#it was good to see dick acting on his own again

[bat-mom-writer]

Impulses

Bruce Wayne(Husband) X Reader(Wife)

Summery: you can be very quick to act on your impulse, usually being done with a kind heart. But can sometimes lead to you and some others being hurt.

Note: Something tells me Bruce wouldn't go to therapy, but this isn't real so...

Rate: Loving Bruce, the very small almost of angst

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"So, tell me Bruce, are you happily married?"

"Of course."

"Then why are you here?"

"Well," Bruce pauses, thinking over his words carefully, "it's not exactly that simple."

The therapist's office was quiet, the kind of silence that felt like it was holding its breath. Bruce Wayne sat in a chair that was a little too small for his broad shoulders, his eyes darting to the clock on the wall. It was a simple room, with a few plants scattered around and a faint scent of lavender in the air, but it was the last place he ever thought he'd be. He was a man who dealt with Gotham's problems from the shadows, not one who talked about his own in a well-lit space with a box of tissues within arm's reach.

"How so?" the therapist asked again, her voice gentle but firm, bringing Bruce back to the present.

He sighed. "Well, my wife… she's incredible. She's kind and she's the glue that holds our family together."

The therapist nodded, her expression neutral. "But?"

Bruce leaned back, rubbing his temples. "But she's… impulsive. She does things without considering the consequences, especially when it comes to the boys."

The therapist made a note in her pad. "Could you give me an example?"

Bruce sighed heavily, his mind racing with instances. "Once we went hiking, and she found a baby wolf, injured and alone. She insisted on bringing it back to the manor to care for it herself. Most of my sons thought it would be a great idea—until we realized it had a pack out there looking for it, and suddenly we had a bunch of very unhappy wolves on our backs."

The therapist looked up, raising an eyebrow. "I see. And how did that situation resolve?"

Bruce chuckled, a bit nervously. "Let's just say there were a lot of stitches involved. And I haven't heard anyone wanting to go camping again ever since."

The therapist's eyes widened, but she remained calm. "It seems she has a heart of gold, but maybe a bit of an overactive sense of adventure."

Bruce nodded. "Exactly. And it's not just with animals. She once tried to organize a surprise street carnival in the middle of Gotham because she thought the city needed more joy. You can imagine the chaos that ensued with all the traffic rerouting and permits she didn't bother to get."

The therapist's pen stopped mid-stroke. "Ah, so her intentions are good, but the execution could use some work."

Bruce nodded emphatically. "You have no idea. She's the love of my life, but sometimes I worry she's going to get us all into trouble. The boys look up to her, especially Dick and Damian."

The therapist leaned in slightly. "How do Dick and Damian react to her impulsive nature?"

"Dick tries to be the voice of reason, but he's young and still learning the ropes of being a responsible older brother. And Damian," Bruce sighed, "he's more like me—he's intrigued by the chaos she creates, but he's also the one who ends up getting hurt when things go awry."

The therapist nodded understandingly. "It's natural for children to look up to their parents, especially when they see the love and good intentions behind their actions. But it's also important for them to learn about boundaries and the potential consequences of impulsivity. How does your wife react when you bring this up with her?"

Bruce leaned forward, his expression a mix of affection and exasperation. "She's… well, she's stubborn. She sees the world as a place full of possibilities, and she wants to experience all of them. I get that, I do. But we can't live our lives on the edge like that, especially with the kind of enemies I've made over the years."

The therapist nodded, her gaze thoughtful. "It's a delicate balance, isn't it? Wanting to keep your family safe and also allowing them the freedom to live their lives fully. How have you been managing this?"

Bruce's smile grew a bit wistful. "Well, my wife is also the lively part of our lives. Without her, the manor would be just a fortress, not a home. She brings laughter and light to every room she enters. She's the one who convinced me to let Tim build a skateboard ramp in the garage, and even though it's a hazard to my cars, I can't help but smile when I hear them all out there, having fun."

The therapist nodded, understanding the complexity of the situation. "It sounds like you appreciate her spirit, but it's important to establish boundaries to ensure everyone's safety. Have you tried discussing the potential dangers with her?"

Bruce leaned back, his eyes drifting to the floor. "I've tried," he admitted. "But she's… she's like a tornado of love and enthusiasm. It's hard to say no to her."

The therapist nodded, her expression understanding. "It's clear you care deeply for her and the boys. Perhaps it's time to find a way to channel that enthusiasm into safer outlets."

"I know," Bruce said, running a hand through his hair. "But she's so… so alive. It's like trying to cage a butterfly."

The therapist nodded. "It's not about caging her, Bruce. It's about guiding her. Teaching her and the boys to weigh risks and rewards. To channel their energy into something positive without endangering themselves or others."

Bruce sat in silence, contemplating her words. He knew she was right, but it was easier said than done when it came to his vibrant wife. Her zest for life was both infectious and overwhelming at times. He thought back to the street carnival she had organized. The look of joy on the citizens' faces as they played games and ate cotton candy was something he hadn't seen in Gotham in a long time.

"There not all bad," he murmured, a small smile playing on his lips. "Her impulses have led to some amazing moments, too."

"Like what?" the therapist prompted, her curiosity piqued.

Bruce's smile grew as he recalled a recent incident. "Last week, she found out about a fundraising event for an underfunded children's hospital. Without asking, she decided to host a masquerade ball at the manor. She convinced Alfred to help, and together they transformed the place into a fairy tale. The kids had the time of their lives, and we ended up raising a fortune for those kids."

The therapist returned his smile. "That does sound wonderful. It seems her spontaneity has its benefits."

Bruce nodded. "It does. But it's also a double-edged sword. I want to support her, but I also need to keep everyone safe."

The therapist leaned back in her chair. "Communication is key, Bruce. It's about expressing your concerns without squashing her spirit. Have you tried talking to her about how her impulsiveness affects you?"

Bruce sighed, his eyes reflecting the weight of his words. "I've tried, but she takes it personally. She thinks I'm trying to control her."

The therapist nodded, her expression empathetic. "It's a common misconception. Setting boundaries isn't about control; it's about care and safety. Have you framed it that way?"

Bruce furrowed his brow. "I'm not sure. I've usually approached it from the perspective of the danger it could pose to the boys."

"It's important to express your feelings," the therapist said. "Tell her how her actions affect you and why you worry. It might help her understand your perspective better."

Bruce nodded slowly, considering her advice. It was true; he hadn't shared his own fears with her, only the potential risks to the boys. Perhaps that was where he was going wrong.

"Thank you, doctor," he said, rising from his chair. "I'll think about what you've said."

The therapist stood and offered a warm smile. "Remember, Bruce, it's about balance. And sometimes, that means taking a risk to find it."

Bruce nodded, her words echoing in his mind as he left the office and stepped into the Gotham night. The city was alive with the pulse of its inhabitants, a stark contrast to the calmness he'd just left behind. His thoughts were racing, trying to find a way to bridge the gap between his need for security and his wife's boundless spirit.

As he drove back to Wayne Manor, the grandeur of the estate came into view, the gothic architecture a stark contrast to the chaos of the city beyond its gates. The manor was more than just a home; it was a bastion of hope in a city that desperately needed it. The lights were on in the windows, a warm glow that promised sanctuary from the cold outside.

When he walked in, the smell of freshly baked cookies filled the air. You was in the kitchen, humming to yourself as you pulled a tray out of the oven. You turned to him, your face lighting up with a smile that never failed to melt his heart. "Hi, honey! How was your day?"

Bruce took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation he knew he had to have. "It was… interesting," he said, trying to keep his tone light. "How about yours?"

"Oh, you know," you replied with a shrug, placing the cookies on a rack to cool. "Just the usual—keeping the boys out of trouble, planning the next big surprise for them." you winked at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Bruce felt a twinge of both fondness and dread. He knew that look all too well. It was the look you got when she had another harebrained scheme up your sleeve. He walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into an embrace. "How about we talk about these surprises together from now on?"

You tilted your head back, your smile fading a bit. "What do you mean?"

Bruce took a deep breath. "I mean, I know you love surprising the boys, and I love that about you. But sometimes, your surprises have… unintended consequences. I want to be there to support you, but I also need to make sure everyone is safe."

You leaned back, looking up at him with a slightly defensive expression. "Not all of my surprises turn out bad," you said, your voice a bit softer than before.

Bruce felt his heart squeeze at the sight of you, flour smudged on your cheek and apron, looking so earnest. He gave a tight smile, trying to ease the tension. But his face was screaming, "Are you sure?"

You took a step back, "Okay, okay, maybe most of them," you conceded. "But the good ones make up for it, right?"

Bruce sighed, his arms dropping to his sides. "They do," he agreed. "But it's the potential for danger that I can't ignore. And not just for the boys, but for you too."

You rolled your eyes, brushing off the flour on your apron. "Me? I'm fine. I can handle myself."

Bruce's grip on your shoulders tightened slightly. "You know what I mean," he said, his voice serious. "How many times have you ended up in the hospital because of one of your… adventures?"

You winced, remembering the last time you had tried to rescue a cat stuck in a tree, only to end up with a broken arm and a bruised ego. "Okay, okay," you repeated, holding up your hands in surrender. "I get it. I can be a bit… much."

Bruce's expression softened, his eyes searching yours. "You're not 'much', you're amazing. I just don't want to lose you."

You took a deep breath, the weight of his words settling in. "I know," you said, your voice small. "But what about you? You're not much different, Bruce. Maybe even worse. You go out every night as Batman, risking your life."

He stepped back, his expression unreadable. "That's different," he said firmly. "That's for the city."

"Is it?" you asked, looking up at him with a hint of challenge in your eyes. "Or is it because you've convinced yourself that it's your duty? That you're the only one who can do it?"

Bruce's jaw tightened at your question. It was a fair point, one he'd wrestled with in the quiet moments of his life. He knew that his crusade as Batman was driven by his own fears and the need to keep the city that had taken his parents safe. But he also knew that the stakes were higher for him than they were for you.

"I've been trained for that," he said finally. "You… you have the biggest heart in the world, but sometimes you don't think about the risks."

You nodded, looking down at the cookies cooling on the rack. "I know," you murmured. "But it's just so hard to resist when I see something that could bring joy to people, especially the boys."

Bruce stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on your cheek. "I know your heart's in the right place," he said. "But we can't keep playing Russian roulette with our lives, not when we have so much to lose. I don't want to lose you. Or see you get hurt. I'm just asking, please, consider the risks before you act. And come to me, talk to me, let's find a way to make this work."

You searched his eyes, the gravity of his words sinking in. You knew he wasn't trying to stifle you; he was just worried. "Okay," you whispered, leaning into his touch. "I'll try."

Bruce's expression relaxed a bit, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Thank you," he said softly. "Now, how about we sit down and talk about what's been on your mind? Maybe we can come up with some ideas together."

You nodded, swiping a strand of hair from your forehead. "Alright, I'll finish up on the cookies and then we can talk. Until then, want to help? Just to make sure I don't hurt myself?"

Bruce couldn't help but chuckle at your attempt to lighten the mood. "Sure," he said, taking the spatula from your hand. "Let's do this together."

As you both worked side by side in the kitchen, the tension began to ease. You chatted about the different flavors of cookies and which ones the boys would like best, while Bruce carefully placed the finished ones on a plate. The rhythm of your conversation was soothing, and it reminded him of the first time he had met you—how your laugh had filled a room and made him feel alive again.

[rei-ismyname]

Giant-Size Wolverine retcons

Marvel, famously, loves having Wolverine as a cash cow, to the point it has its own entry on TVTropes. This manifests as a LOT of Wolverine #1s being released as well as the clawed-one showing up on deceitful covers and guest starring anywhere they think they can justify it. Less common (but still frequent enough) is Forrest Gumping him into historical events or rewriting events he was there for as a character study cynical profiteering.

Sunfire is still great - 'banal prattle.' You tell em

This is the latter, foregrounding Logan in Giant-Size X-Men to the detriment of almost everyone else. In the original Giant-Size X-Men, Logan sits at the back and says very little. Here he takes charge and uncharacteristically identifies that the new squad lacks synergy and a sense of teamwork. He opens with 'it's your first day as new X-Men, people. I'm going to show you how this works.' Uh, isn't it yours too? Did I miss a meeting?

Poor Kurt. Eddie Munster is just mean

So he starts a fight, telling everyone there's one too many people. Colossus objects for sexist reasons (not objection to killing lol) and Storm puts him in his place. Sunfire and Thunderbird both have little patience for white people or bullshit and Logan catches a fireball...

... and an elbow to the spine. Ororo goes off with electricity and Kurt just doesn't want to die, so he BAMFs behind her and starts choking Storm from behind. Logan turns the tables on Proudstar and drops a one liner about metal conducting electricity. I'm no wizard, but I don't think it interacts well with human flesh, either, especially if they have a metal skeleton. Obviously he takes everyone down and has the biggest dick in the world.

Yeah... about Thunderbird.

Banshee bursts in and reveals Logan is acting against Chuck's wishes. I'm generally in favour of that but I'm not fond of its narrative function at all . He has an open shirt, a toothpick in his mouth, and looks oh so pleased with himself. I'm not some reactionary purist who worships the sacred texts and pushes back against retcons. Quite the opposite, in fact. Additive retcons are fantastic when done well - Magneto being a Holocaust survivor stands as one of the best in fiction.

I don't think that's what this is, or at least it's not successful. In Giant-Size X-Men #1 there's no time for this pissing contest because all the other X-Men need rescuing ASAP. Chuck rounds them up and handles the basics then defers to Cyclops, the field leader of many years. They leave immediately and nobody is getting along. Sunfire leaves then comes back. Scott is all business because he's worried about the folks on Krakoa and there just isn't time. If they respect the chain of command in the field that's good enough. Team building can come later.

What's achieved here besides sidelining everyone to centre edge lord Logan? Not a lot, in fact I'd say it minimises Logan's character arc most of all. He was a grumpy loner who eventually learnt to trust people, came to see the X-Men as family, and committed to the team. Logan knowing half this stuff already and having this degree of social confidence just undermines that, as well as Cyclops' leadership of this ragged band. Not sure what Whedon was thinking tbh.

That wasn't the end of it, though. Interestingly, this is Chris Claremont writing here. Again, I'm not a purist and I'm under no illusion about CC's later X-Men work. He'd worked with these characters for a long time but Giant-Size was Wein & Cockrum, so he's choosing to expand the origin story. Thunderbird is still alive so they're still pretty new here. Anyway, Cyke is running a danger room training session - Storm vs Thunderbird.

After some kinda bizarre ethnic posturing Ororo is pinned.

Unsurprisingly, she starts to wig out due to her claustrophobia. Logan picks it up with his advanced senses and jumps in. Scott owns the mistake and ends the training session.

I find it hard to buy Scott would feel like his authority was undermined here. Logan is being as paternalistic as ever, but Scott blames himself for failures. He doesn't externalise it and he understands he's not leading children anymore. It's Chuck who has difficulty adapting to this specific dynamic. Also, Logan had zero interest in leadership. None. It was Ororo who was a friendly rival to him and ended up succeeding him as leader. He also didn't especially trust or show respect to anyone. Everyone else has problems but the focus and Charles' confidant is Wolverine. That's silly as hell.

Okay, private insecurity and self-doubt, totally Scott's thing. I'm just going to ignore literally everything else that's happening, especially 'damaged goods.' Ugh.

The second story came out in 2005 in Giant-Size X-Men #4. Aside from the Wolverine oversaturation and other weird shit I've pointed out, I feel like there was a concerted effort to bring certain characters closer to their FOX movies counterparts. Chuck started looking like Captain Picard, Scott was Flanderised a bit but moreso deemphasized, and Logan started to look and act more like Hugh Jackman. He joined more teams, regressed in social growth yet became way more important to the X-Men. More important to the very fabric of the Marvel universe.

I get why it happened (capitalism) but I think it was executed poorly in many instances. These are particularly egregious, but Wolverine was and is fucking everywhere - under many different writers. There's always going to be a sense of asynchronicity under those circumstances. I've actually come to really dislike Logan lately. Obviously it's an issue for most long running characters, but his particular regression to the mean every new book bores the shit out of me. He's not growing at all, even when everything around him changes. On Krakoa he was mostly just gruff and stabby, monologuing about hell, beer, time, nature, poison, and being the best he is at what he does. 🙄

He'll usually find someone worse than him to point at and call out with transparency he never applies to himself. Magneto, Scott, Beast, Scott, Chuck, teenage Scott, Sabertooth, Omega Red, Beast, Chuck, and Scott again. Someone please deconstruct this guy! Send him to therapy, break him down to his base components and examine them. Fuck his moping or running naked with wolves or fighting the W-digo - give him a messy boyfriend and force him to get the fuck over Jean Grey.

He can still fight ninjas and mentor troubled teens and sulk about whatever his latest thing is - just have him grow! His books will still sell, people will still cheer when he says bub, and snikt isn't going away. Hire Al Ewing to do it like he did with Loki, Hulk, Magneto, Sunspot, etc. Some of those changes actually stuck and the characters are more popular than ever! Is that too much to hope for? Almost certainly, but one can hope.

Boy I got carried away on that outro, lol.

[robinsegghead]

Danny's Daycare Part 18

Masterlist

“What the fuck was that?” Jason hissed the second Danny was out of earshot, looking around the table at everyone who’d questioned Danny after his obvious flashback. A few minutes after dessert had arrived Danny excused himself to find the bathroom which Alfred offered to show him too and Jason took the opportunity to thoroughly reprimand his family.

Duke nodded in agreement. “You guys need to chill out. I know we all want answers but cornering and interrogating him isn’t going to get the answers.”

“That was a flashback, right?” Tim looked to Jason for answers which made him feel like shit cause, yeah it was a flashback but why did Tim seem convinced Jason would know much more than they did? He’d never seen Danny like that before.

Bruce had the decency to look abashed. “He’s clearly hiding something, Jaylad-”

“So are we!” Jason hissed venomously. Dick startled at Jason’s tone but he didn’t care. “We all have secrets that’s all this fucking family is! Just because someone else has secrets does not mean you get to know them all! Besides, he doesn’t know ours so he’s not likely to tell us anything of value!”

“Scared.” Cass said, shutting everyone up to look at her. She frowned. “Don’t bring up parents.”

Jason nodded. “Yes- thank you Cass. As a family of people with crazy and traumatic relationships with our parents- do you think we could have a bit more- I don’t know- TACT?” When his family nodded, sheepishly, he sighed. ���Let’s hope you didn’t scare off the only friends Demon Brat has outside of Jon.”

A few minutes of uncomfortable silence and glaring later Danny returned and retook his seat.

“I’ve gotta say, your house puts the mansions I’m used to shame.” He chuckled, taking a sip of water. “Like, I cannot wait to rub in the Mansons faces that their house is practically rundown in comparison.”

Bruce smiled back, one of those fake smiles that no one but his family seemed to be able to see through. Jason was pretty sure Danny had seen through it from the start. “You know the Mansons?”

“Yeah, their daughter is one of my closest friends. They hate me.” He tacked the last part on with a mischievous grin that earned a laugh out of Steph and Jason. 

Things weren’t so bad from there. Danny told some story about his best friend’s parents and how they hated him and did their damn best to break him and their daughter up when they’d dated only for her to end up dating their other best friend who her parents hate just as much as him. It was nice and Jason noticed Danny untensing as the story went on and nobody tried to interrogate him again.

Good.

Dick jumped in and started telling his own story- something about Wally probably- while Jason zoned out. Last night he’d gone to the cave to tell B everything Phantom had told him about the GIW, ectoplasm, and the Anti-Ecto-Acts, and, like Jason’d predicted, he was pissed. Most of the family were off doing their own things, on their own cases, out of town, etc. so he, Damian, Bruce, and Babs had spent the night researching.

When Jason finally admitted what Phantom had said about Danny (omitting any information Danny had given Red Hood in confidence), Damian had immediately suggested inviting him and his kids over for dinner to see what they could learn. Jason had protested but Bruce liked the idea, and once Bruce was set on something, nothing would stop him.

So Jason had agreed to come over as well, also omitting the part where he- as Jason- was acquainted with Danny and the boys. Thinking back on their three interactions so far Jason wasn’t sure ‘acquainted’ was a strong enough word for them. He didn’t think they were best friends or anything, but you don’t just call someone sweetheart and flirt as suggestively as Danny had and then call them an acquaintance.

Hopefully.

God, Jason, snap the fuck out of it. He’s GOT a boyfriend.

Then why was he flirting with you?

An uproarious laugh took him by surprise and brought him back to the scene in front of him. Danny was cracking up at something Tim had said, a smug look on Tim’s face confirmed Jason’s guess, and everyone else at the table was laughing along. Jason smiled, watching as Danny wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and admiring how pretty his laugh was and how good he looked in a cardigan and how -

Stop.

Nope. Stop it.

Straightening up, Jason tried to reintegrate into the conversation. 

“I’m glad I’m not the only person who's friends with some crazy theorist who thinks he’s got all the answers!” Danny finally managed to curb his laughter. 

Tim nodded with a smile. “Bernard once told me he thought Lex Luthor was secretly Batman because ‘the butts match’.”

Danny snorted. “Wes works at the Daily Planet and he’s convinced the guy who always writes about Superman- Clark… something- is Superman! Worse- he’s pretty sure Superboy isn’t his son, but his clone!”

The forced laughter around the table was, hopefully, only obvious to the family. Danny didn’t seem to realize the sharp look Bruce gave Cass, then Jason, then Danny, trying to analyze the situation and figure out if he needed to do some kind of damage control. He came to the same conclusion all of them had already come to though and that was- Danny really thought Wes was wrong.

They were saved from the awkward interaction when Santi ran into the room shouting.

“Danny Danny! You have to come see Damian’s cow! And he has a turkey! You’ve gotta come see ‘em! You ever seen a cow in real life before, Danny?” 

Being dragged out of his seat and shooting an apologetic look towards the table, Danny followed Santi out of the room. “You know I’m from the middle of nowhere Illinois, right? I’ve seen cows before…”

Once again out of earshot, Bruce started talking. “I want everything you can find on this Wes who works at the Daily Planet.” Tim nodded, already typing something on his phone. “Jason why don’t you go with them, keep an eye on Danny and the boys.”

“And you’ll be..?” Jason asked accusatorially.

Raising his hands in surrender, Bruce sighed. “We’ll be around, I don’t want to… overwhelm him again.”

“You mean send him into a flashback about his traumatic childhood?” Jason scoffed.

“You never mentioned he had a traumatic childhood.” Bruce pointed out.

Shrugging, Jason stood to escape the conversation. “There’s a lot about Danny I haven’t told you, but I think we can all agree the way he reacted to being asked about his parents and hometown wasn’t the reaction of someone with fond memories.”

He could hear his family trying to excuse themselves from what had happened as he left. At least they hadn’t ALL bombarded him. Duke had been pretty quiet at dinner, Cass obviously hadn’t said much, happier to observe and analyze, and Tim had mostly talked to him about Kon and Bernard.

Danny had seemed rather interested in Tim and his boyfriends which threw him for a loop. Jason would never claim to be a detective. He wasn’t like Bruce and Tim, hell he wasn’t even as good as Damian, Dick, or Steph when it came to detective shit, but he wasn’t a complete idiot! Except Danny’s interest in Tim’s relationship really had confused him. He’d asked how Tim’s boyfriends were, what they did, how they’d all met, how they got together, and while Jason had put together that Danny and Tim somehow already knew each other, he couldn’t figure out what Danny’s fascination with Tim’s boyfriends was.

Catching up to Danny and Santiago didn’t take long. He found them outside, still on their way to the barn where he assumed Miguel and Damian were, and jogged up beside them.

“Hey guys, checkin’ out the barn?”

Santi smiled. “I’m showin’ Danny Batcow!”

“Batcow?” Danny asked, furrowing his brow in a way that made Jason want to hold his face and smooth away his confusion-

“Batcow!” Santi agreed, hurrying inside the barn with Danny in tow.

Damian and Miguel seemed to be deep in conversation, both crouched down and petting Alfred. Santi led Danny and Jason past the boys and towards the cow. Jason hadn’t ever really seen Batcow. He’d heard the story of how they’d gotten her and ended up keeping her and it was often brought up when Damian asked for a new pet or animal of some kind as a way for Bruce to say ‘you already have a cow, what more could you want?’ but he was never actually around the manor this much.

It was an odd feeling.

To know that his family had large parts of their lives he never witnessed because he was rarely around them as civilians. He heard bits and pieces, Dick taught acrobatics, Cass taught ballet, Damian had a cow, Duke got a job, Steph and Tim were going to GU, but he didn’t know the details. Why would he? Why would he care?

 What age group did Dick teach? Had Cass ever taken her ballerinas to a competition? Did they win? How many animals did Damian really have? Why did Duke get a job at the daycare specifically? What classes was Steph taking? What was Tim’s major? 

Why did he care? He’d never cared before.

But looking at Batcow was like looking at a picture of his entire family that he’d been cropped out of. It left a bad taste in his mouth, to realize he was barely part of the family he’d been part of longer than almost anyone. Isn’t that what he’d wanted? To work alone? To distance himself from the bats and be his own person, neither hero nor villain? 

And yet… He’d been spending a bit more time at the manor recently. He’d been less angry and when the anger receded he saw it for what it really was; hurt, loneliness, insecurity. He didn’t like to think too much about it. He was the Red Hood, feared crime lord, murderer, monster- he was the monster in the closet parents warned their kids about. Who cared if he had no one to go home to? Why did it matter if he had to stitch up his own wounds? He was fine with lonely birthdays and even lonelier death days and he didn’t need them to check in on him he was fine-

“Jason?” A cold hand brushed against his jerking him right out of his downward spiral.

“Huh?” He asked, plastering on an unconcerned face.

Squinting, Danny grabbed his wrist. “Come on, Damian says you’ve never met Batcow.” He didn’t let go of Jason’s wrist until they stood right in front of the cows stall. Immediately, Jason missed the cool feeling of Danny’s hand against his skin. “It really does look like the Batman symbol.” Danny confirmed.

“Tt. I didn’t name her Batcow for nothing.” Damian cut in.

Miguel was eyeing Jason in a manner he thought was subtle. It was not. It made his skin itch. Why did Miguel hate him so much again? Something about flirting with his dad?

Leaning closer to Danny until their shoulders were touching, Jason hoped Miguel would stop staring at him like he’d killed his dad- well. He had. But Miguel didn’t know that- actually wait- did they know Hood had killed their dad? Danny told them, right? Was that why Miguel seemed to like him so much?

“You’re doing it again.” Danny muttered only loud enough for him to hear.

Snapping out of it, Jason looked over to see everyone else had left. “Where-”

“Damian mentioned his dog Titus and I convinced the boys to go play with him. You okay?”

Jason nodded. “Uh, yeah, sorry. I- I don’t usually spend this much time around the manor. Brought up some feelings I wasn’t… prepared for.”

Danny nodded in understanding. “I know what that’s like.”

“Yeah?”

Biting his bottom lip, Danny seemed to debate his next words carefully. “A lot of people contacted me after the attack. Some people I… don’t want to talk to anymore.”

Jason let the silence hang over them for a moment. “Your parents?” Danny shook his head, watching Batcow instead of looking at him. “Good.”

“Yeah. Anyway, I know what it’s like to be… reminded of things you don’t want to think about or… of who you used to be.” 

Swallowing, Jason decided to take the plunge. “When I… died…” Danny tensed. “Things changed. I changed. And I can’t stand being reminded of that. That I was… a better person- a better son- before. Sometimes I… I wonder what it’d be like if I’d stayed the optimistic kid I’d been but… death…” He trailed off, feeling himself getting choked up.

“It changes you.” Danny nodded solemnly. “And no one understands. Even the people who don’t care that you’re different, the people who love you, they don't get it.” He whispered.

Jason nodded.

They stood there, looking at Batcow, shoulders pressed against each other but not daring to move closer, silent, for minutes. Jason tried not to think about how Danny having died meant he could probably understand what Jason had gone through- he couldn’t burden Danny with his fucked up feelings on the matter anymore.

But Danny didn’t seem to share those feelings.

Thank god.

“I understand.” He breathed, finally looking away from the cow they’d been staring at for way too long. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to but… But I understand. I know what it’s like for everyone to look at you differently, like you’re broken, or volatile, or a time bomb waiting to go off, and I know what it’s like for them to want the person who died back and I know that you’re still that same optimistic kid deep down but it’s also impossible to be him anymore and I know that because I’m the same.”

Jason let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding (he had no idea when it started but he’d been able to hold his breath for a really long time recently and sometimes he wondered if he even needed to breathe) and met Danny’s eyes.

“You’re the same person as before but you’re also not and no one understands because that doesn’t make any sense but it does, Jason.” It was at the moment Danny said his name that he realized how close they were. “And it’s fine if you have complicated feelings about your childhood home or your family or anything else because it IS complicated. You don’t have to apologize to me for spacing out or needing space or not knowing what’s wrong because I do that all too.”

Fuck.

He couldn’t breathe. (He wasn’t sure he needed to) When was the last time someone had said something so… tender to him? When was the last time someone had looked him in the eyes for this long? His family usually looked away when they sensed his feelings getting too big, when they saw a hint of green, when they couldn’t take looking at the scarred remnants of the child they’d loved anymore.

Danny kept staring.

Danny held his gaze.

“I… sorry-” Jason’s voice stopped working. He looked down, unable to stare directly into the sun any longer, his eyes burning. 

Cool hands hesitantly grabbed his and squeezed. “You have nothing to apologize for, Jason.”

“This is dumb.” Jason scoffed, pulling one hand away to swipe the tears off his face before Danny could see them. “It happened so long ago.”

Danny shrugged. “I died nine years ago and it still bothers me.”

Jason’s head whips up so fast he almost headbutts Danny. “That’s- that’s so-”

“Young?” Danny guesses with a sad smile. “Yeah, but it is what it is. Besides, sounds like you were pretty young too.”

“Fifteen.” Jason admits.

“Fourteen.” Danny adds. “But it doesn’t matter if you were fifteen, twenty five, fifty five, that shit stays with you. Whether it was for a few seconds, minutes, or much longer, death holds on. It changes you and no one can understand it if they haven’t been through it too. They just can’t.”

The situation felt ridiculous. Jason and Danny, who’d only met a few times (in his civvies anyways), holding hands in his adoptive dads barn, staring at his little brother's cow, crying about their teenage deaths. It was too much. Jason let out a pitiful laugh. “This is the dumbest place to have this conversation.”

Danny smirked. “Well I think it’s fine, but if you want to continue this conversation sometime over, say, dinner, I’d be more than happy to do that.” Jason stared- was that? Was he asking Jason on a- “I mean, I do think you mentioned getting dinner before and I’d certainly like the chance to get to know you better.”

“Are you-”

“Asking you on a date? Yes.” 

Oh. Holy fuck. Either Danny and Phantom were in some kind of open relationship or he’d read the situation very wrong. Either way he didn’t care. “Yes. I’d like that.”

“Yessss!” Someone hissed from the other side of the barn.

Peaking over Danny’s shoulder, Jason spotted Santi crouched behind a stack of hay. Danny also turned around, letting go of Jason’s hands (he tried not to think about how disappointed that made him), and put his hands on his hips (also tried not to think about that or how good his hips would feel in his hands-). “Santi?” Danny said with the patience of a saint.

“Uh… noooo?” Santiago responded.

Danny sighed loudly. “Santi, I thought you were going to play with Damian’s dog?”

The boy, realizing he’d been caught, stepped out shyly. “I was but I- uh, I wanted to see Batcow again?”

“Nice try, kid.” Danny deadpanned. “Come on, let’s go find your brother. I don’t want to leave you alone and I think I’ve been a terrible guest.”

Jason tilted his head. “How so?”

With a smirk, Danny crossed his arms. “Well it was rude to leave mid-interrogation. I’m sure there are many more questions your family would like answered before I leave, wouldn’t you agree?” Then he walked away with Santi, and Jason had only one thought.

Fuck.

He’s in love with that twink.

~~~~~~~

By the time Danny and Jason had made it back inside the house, Danny had calmed down and prepared himself for more insensitive questions. He wasn’t exactly angry about the questioning, he kind of found it hilarious, but he wasn’t sure how to explain the whole ‘dead ghost king who’d been vivisected by his parents’ thing so he just didn’t explain anything.

He and Jason came back to what seemed to be a mario kart tournament that Tim, Dick, Steph, and Duke were all competing in. Cass watched from the sidelines, she’d apparently been banned from playing in the tournaments because she always won. They offered Danny a slot but he was happier to watch than to play.

At that point they’d been there for a couple of hours and he was starting to get tired. Life had been crazy recently and even though you’d think getting some actual sleep recently would mean he wasn’t tired all of the time, it had the opposite effect. Like his body had realized how it was supposed to feel after getting a full night’s rest and had started a revolt in protest of the last two months of power naps.

Santi, Miguel, and Damian had gone to Damian’s room to hang out (although Danny couldn’t shake the feeling that Damian was keeping the boys occupied so that the rest of his family could get Danny alone for questioning) after it had gotten too dark to continue playing with Titus outside.

When the tournament finally wrapped up it was almost nine and Danny decided that was long enough for their first time coming over. He sent a text to Miguel to finish up and meet him in the Foyer in the next ten minutes so they could head home.

“Aww, come on Danny, just one match!” Steph whined.

He chuckled. “I don’t need to be demolished in mario kart tonight, thank you very much.” He was actually fairly certain he’d give most of them a run for their money, but he didn’t want to issue a challenge and get caught up in the game. “Next time.” He said without thinking.

“Ha! You owe me fifty bucks!” Dick shouted at Tim.

Tim grumbled, reaching for his pocket. “Come on man, couldn’t have hated my ridiculous family like a normal person?”

“What just happened?” Danny asked, looking between Jason and Cass. Jason shrugged, Cass gave them a knowing smile, and Danny remained in the dark. “All right, well. It was nice to meet you, Steph, Cass, and nice to re-meet everyone else. Duke- no work next week, seriously- take the week off.” He waved to everyone, following Jason to the foyer.

The boys were already there when he arrived and Damian said something about how they were already on their way downstairs when Miguel received his message. Before they could say their goodbyes, a pair of footsteps was rushing towards them. Tim turned the corner, almost slamming into Danny before stopping himself.

“Where’s the fire, Timbers?” Jason raised an eyebrow.

Tim rolled his eyes. “Kon just told me he was on his way with Ma’s pie.”

“I will accept that excuse for the small small price of one piece of pie.” Jason grinned.

“No way! Ma’s pie is like liquid gold- no way I’m giving you any of it!” Tim retorted just as the door opened.

A man, probably about Danny’s age, wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses (it was night?) walked in holding what appeared to be a pie. “Hey guys- I brought-” He cut himself off, immediately freezing and dropping the pie. Tim and Jason shouted as the so-called liquid gold crashed into the ground, pie pan shattering and red liquid seeping onto the floor. Must have been cherry. 

That wasn’t what startled Danny. What startled Danny was the way that Kon stared at him, like he was seeing more than what Danny showed on the surface. Like he was peering past the barriers and barbed wire disguised as jokes and seeing something he shouldn’t.

“Sorry!” Kon squeaked, ripping his eyes away from Danny and kneeling to pick up the ruined pie. Danny heard the quiet ‘what the fuck is wrong with his heart’ whispered under Kon’s breath and immediately felt his pulse quicken. Kon froze again and Danny decided to try something. Something he didn’t do often but his body did on its own whenever it felt like it.

Or rather- whenever his body didn’t feel like it. He stopped his heart.

“Oh my god are you okay!?” Kon shot up, grabbing Danny’s shoulders and looking him over.

Pulling away, slightly startled by Kon’s intensity, Danny’s theory was confirmed. Kon had super hearing. He must have been startled by Danny’s slow heartbeat and panicked. Then he realized Danny was fine and tried to cover it up. Danny stopping his heartbeat would scare anyone with super hearing- it had scared him a few times until he’d gotten used to the on and off heartbeat.

“Kon?” Tim asked, placing a firm hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “You okay?”

The man nodded slowly, hearing Danny’s heartbeat return. “Uh- yeah, I’m- I’m good. Sorry, I- I’ll clean this all up, just… gonna use the bathroom first.” And then he was gone, faster than Danny thought was completely human but, well, he’d kind of already confirmed Kon was a meta.

The foyer was completely silent at that point, confusion laced through the room and Danny decided the best course of action was to shrug it off. “Well that was strange- Tim, your boyfriend is odd, but seems nice. Sorry about your pie guys.”

“Uh- I’m just- I’m going to check on him. Nice seeing you again, Danny!” Tim rushed off, leaving the destroyed pie behind.

“That was weird as fuck.” Miguel muttered.

“Language.” Danny said. Really, he didn’t care if the boys swore, but maybe not in the fucking Wayne’s manor? “We’ve got to get going, but thank you for inviting us over, Damian, it was nice to see you again.” Turning to Jason he smirked and spoke so no one else could hear him. “I’ll text you, doll.”

His smirk grew wider as Jason’s face grew pink and felt victory settle in his bones. Despite some of the weirdness, it was a really nice night. At least he’d gotten a date with Jason out of all the interrogating.

~~~~~~

“Kon what the fuck was that?” Tim demanded, barging into his bedroom where Kon had chosen to hide out until Danny left.

Kon turned to face Tim slowly. “He- god Tim he’s covered in scars he-” The man ran a hand through his hair and met Tim’s eyes. “He had an autopsy scar like Jason.”

Tim had noticed Danny’s scars before. He had one on his hand the looked like the beginning of a Lichtenberg scar which didn’t make any sense because those were supposed to fade after a few days, he had another on the back of his neck which he seemed to try and hide with hoodies and collared shirts, his fingers on his right hand had varying degrees of scarring like a ring around each one, but he’d obviously never seen more than that.

An autopsy scar was… well it was another clue, somehow. He didn’t know how Danny dying and having an autopsy and coming back to life like Jason had connected to anything else but it had to be why Danny and Phantom- King of Ghosts- had some kind of connection. Was- Was Phantom the ‘friend’ who’d asked Danny to come to Gotham in the first place?

“That’s not all- I mean, that’s why I dropped the pie but- Tim his heart stopped.”

“What?!” Tim hissed, jerking out of his thoughts. “What do you mean-”

“His heartbeat was really slow, it was concerning but then it just- it just STOPPED. Altogether. And then it started again after I’d already freaked out on him.”

What the fuck did that mean? “I have to talk to B- what the fuck, Danny?”

Prev. Next

[beuxwhoyouare]

Raised You Better

My son Jasper was a good kid. He was a star soccer player in school and got a scholarship to play in college, so I only saw him on holidays. I missed him so much and looked forward to our quarterly reunions.

Well that was until his most recent visit. He was being so distant and when I finally inquired why he was acting differently, he finally admitted he actually dropped out to pursue being a personal trainer.

I was shocked. He's always been a model child and did all me and my husband expected of him. Maybe it was all our time away working? Maybe I should've been home more instead of being at the lab. It felt like a punch in the gut. I mean sure he knew what he was doing thanks to all his time training for soccer but that's not a way to build a life?

My husband and I did it right. We met in college and supported each other through our advanced degrees and worked our way up in an international pharmaceutical company. Personal training is just so...surface level. He's supposed to be better than us. That's what you want for your children. No no no this is no good. I'll have to set him on the right path.

I knew of a special program at work that was rooted in natural medicine and meditation with a mad science twist. I set up Jasper with the "Sports Nutrition" department at work but it was actually our new experiment. It looked like a TENS muscle stimulator on crack. Several wires shot out of a relatively large dark grey box with a screen and several sliders on one side. I sat connected on the other side of the wall connected with the pads all over the top of my head. All I had to do was wait for Jasper to get hooked up. We sold it to him as a scientific way to curb cravings for sweets and unhealthy things, like an ozempic shot for the brain. In reality, I was told that the machine would take positive attributes from one source and strengthen them in the weaker mind.

I saw the lights flicker and anticipated that he had already been hooked up to the machine. I just laid back and rested while focusing on the importance of getting a quality education. Eventually, I must have dozed off because when I opened my eyes again it was all so groggy. But I was sitting facing the opposite direction. I lifted my arms to wipe my eyes and gasped when I looked down. My boobs were gone and replaced with sizable mounds of muscle escaping a tiny white tank top. My arms and thick thighs now filled with tattoos....no?! This isn't supposed to be how it works

I told the lab techs who I am and that I was actually Meredith. They both looked at each other spooked but judiciously jotting down notes. After answering a few security questions, they agreed to believe that I was indeed not Jasper and it must be an unforseen side effect from the treatment.

That's when they explained the problem....When my body woke up, it also said it was Meredith. Could the experiment have basically overwritten the memory of my son with my own? I felt like I basically killed my own child. Grief swept over me. But then so did a bravado, a confidence, a giddiness? The two lab techs handed me a towel as they shyly avoided looking down at a tent forming in my shorts. Oh I guess the excitement led to a physical response.

In theory I get it as a scientist. I did in fact instill positive traits on my son. Granted, that also erased him seemingly. But also it's a chance at a new life full of new experiences. I'm a man now. And what a man indeed. I walked into the shower facility at the lab. I took off the outfit Jasper donned to the lab, if I was still a woman it'd be called skimpy and slutty. Tiny shorts with underwear built in and a virtually see through tank top. In two swift moves, I had taken everything off. I had seen my son naked as a child but this is different. He looked so much like his father....well I guess I looked so much like MY dad now. His genetics graced me well as I placed one hand on my pecs and another on my new dick. I squeezed both recoiling from the newfound pleasure. This was wrong right? Like I shouldn't be doing this....I felt disgusted with myself. No. This is for the betterment of Jasper's life. I'm going to let go of my past life....I'm Jasper now.

And what a life it will be. Years of playing sport and training, whew. I wasn't going to let him throw it away, I'll let it be a side job, maybe I'll own a business with a bunch of trainers under me but I won't be hustling like that. Not yet. I gotta learn the new me. I used my hands to trace the curves of each new tattoo, then moved on to each muscle. I poked and prodded before squeezing, then I remembered I had business to attend to. I took one hand and gently took hold of the warm fleshy rod under the steamy water pulsing down onto me. I pumped back and forth for a few minutes. Jasper was not sensitive at all...I shoved aside my reservations and gripped myself firmer and began jerking harder and faster. Eventually I introduced my other hand....oh he was girthy in the best way. I mean I am thick in the best ways. Harder and faster, it felt like I was floating outside of myself as my muscles took over almost like autopilot.

The steam radiated off my new musculature when it felt like I saw a flash of light. Shot after shot came out of my new rod. The lab walls had likely never seen a show like this but I was happy to christen them. The autopilot kinky thoughts continued to take over my new mind and body. I squatted down an licked the nearest wall as my cum dripped down. I knew Jasper was queer but I didn't know how he would respond to this kind of kink. I think he was a little freak because there was not one single butterfly in my stomach from this action. I quickly toweled off and headed to my apartment. I figured "Meredith" could find her way home.

The apartment smelled like a young male in college. A musk twirled around sweat and strong cologne. Foreign to me, but familiar to my new body. I couldn't control myself and ripped my clothes off...literally. My strength made it obscenely easy to tear them off in ways they weren't intended to. I wanted to try on all my new clothes. This body made everything look good.

My phone buzzed. It was one of "my" bros asking if I was coming down to the shoot. I played it off like I forgot and asked him to send me the "deets" again.

I threw on the nearest random shirt and bottoms and made my way to the warehouse address given. I guess "I" had agreed to help with the photoshoot to launch "our" new clothing line. A nearby table had Jasper's name on it and I quickly assumed the position taking off all my clothes and putting the skimpy clothing on. I channeled my new swagger as my bros began taking pics.

Oh I think I'm gonna like this. Hopefully I can find a cute twink or something soon. I really wanna put these thighs to work plowing someone's son or two.

[hood-ex]

Thoughts on Nightwing #119?

[acid-ixx]

ch.1: again &. again (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)

directory: preq, chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four

read until the end for an author's note.

if there was one thing you hated more than the crime-filled streets of gotham, it would be empty promises.

when was the last time they attended your birthday? or your school ceremonies? or any special event that meant for you to be the center of attention?

plot twist, there was no last time, or a time before that or any day that they were there for you.

not your eldest brother, dick, not your dead brother, jason, of course tim wouldn't be there for you, damian's absence is a given, not even your sisters would come, and most especially not your father, bruce wayne.

you never wrote wayne as your last name. in every test, it would always be your mother's last name. in every document that you had to fill, you would violently scratch in the name of your father, wishing it wasn't required at all so you wouldn't have to hang your head in shame everytime someone looks at you incredulously for having the bruce wayne as your father but never once appearing to be with you.

you can't recall a time you had called him your dad, or even considered him as one.

if you could count the times you have seen him in person, it wouldn't even fill ten fingers. even interviewers and paparazzi have more luck in coming across him than you would, his child.

it sucks, really, how despite having nearly sharing the same age as tim, you never once saw him outside of his room. you thought you would've been the closest to him, but the most you have seen him was when you were watching the news with the "new" robin popping up, or worse; when bruce would be seen guiding tim through the paparazzi and not you. alfred had to drag you away from the tv that day because you were already suffering through a panic attack just seeing those two act so close; ripping your hair out just from watching the news wasn't a good way to cope.

you remember being so jealous of him, of how bruce would always spend time with him and not you. it made you wonder, were you special enough? tim is so brilliant, you could admit. and you were, too, having enough comprehensibility as a child to find out they were vigilantes a year or two after living in the manor— but you weren't good enough like tim. you weren't cut out to be like a detective or a fighter.

it was no wonder why bruce chose them over you.

it came to you in the form of talking to tim that had you discovering that no one ever mentions your name inside the house, proving it to be true when tim had hesitated calling your name and even stuttered through pronouncing it. and then he left after finding you were of no use to help him. alfred had to stifle your sobbing after tim left the room, allowing you to cry on his chest whilst you sat beside him.

(name) wayne was so, so lonely.

you would've accepted their absence long ago, but you were a stupid child who needed care and reassurance because your mother left you for good at the age of five. you were too naive into thinking you would receive the same love from your family just like the other kids in elementary would. you were a child who expected too highly of your father, thinking that he would pick you up from school with that picture perfect photographed smile of his and kiss your forehead and tell you that you did a great job at school today.

it was your teachers who would be the one having to walk you up the stage whenever you achieved an award. alfred would be too busy sometimes to attend your school ceremonies because he had to assist bruce with missions. of course, you understood his priorities. after all, he tried his hardest to make you feel less lonely inside the mansion, it wasn't enough but he was there at least.

it was long ago that you stopped praying for your family to attend at least one of your birthdays.

it's ironic, really, for a child to prep and plan for their own celebration just to hope that a single member of their family to even walk by the kitchen and join them in on their already lonesome celebration.

too bad everybody only goes to the kitchen when alfred cooks for them. who would want to taste sadness in a sloppily made birthday cake, right? nobody, not even you would have the appetite to eat your cake with the knowledge that it was you who had to put all the effort to bake it because you didn't want alfred to feel obligated to. knowing nobody would celebrate birthdays with you, save for alfred, it was expected that you started to prefer cupcakes.

because then you wouldn't be scolded for making such a mess.

you never cooked family meals after the incident where nobody came and to not waste food, you had to bring in large containers to bring to school so you could celebrate your birthday there.

it was there that you find more solace in your small group of friends compared to the desolate rooms of the mansion. your family celebrates holidays together as a whole, but you never once attended after that one time where everybody had forgotten to get you a gift for christmas, save for alfred who gave you a bracelet (one that you cherished deeply). you only smiled weakly and hopelessly, sneaking into your room before the family dinner.

it was alfred again who bought you leftovers and sat on your bed for an hour to encourage you that there's still more christmas's to go.

you never believed what he said. not anymore.

there was a period of time where you hated them more than anything, blamed them for everything and became more rebellious, purposely failing tests, fighting your classmates and disrespecting teachers in hopes that for once your father would bat an eye on you. that only resulted in you being taken out of the school and being transferred into another, for a behavioral reform is what alfred stated to you when you annoyed him for answers.

damian started to bully you a bit more harder after that incident, calling you immature and childish, a weakling, an attention seeker. how someone at your age should've known better. you were convinced that he was relishing in the heartbroken glare you gave him, ignoring the way his eyes widened momentarily at your reaction before sneering and walking away.

alfred gently scolded you, but you were too choked up and instead you almost tripped running inside your bedroom, locking yourself in for what seems like hours.

you don't want to remember the immense breakdown you had that evening too, screaming on your blankets and destroying your things and hurting yourself because... because you had lost your old friends for nothing! your caring teachers, your academic progress, everything! every single thing for an ounce of attention! because he didn't have enough energy to come with you to the guidance counselor and he only had you transfer out so you wouldn't ruin the wayne's reputation!

you hate him, you hate bruce fucking wayne so much and you hate clinging onto their empty promises and sorry's to make it up for you. you hate how their promises were never even said directly to you, you hate how alfred was your only source of hope for a medium of communication.

you hate them all.

and worst of all, you hate yourself for drowning in hope. for wishing you were physically stronger so you could at least bond with them through training. for dreaming about a day where they could surprise you and told you they were just testing you and that you actually had worth inside this manor. for praying nightly that they'll smile at you like the heroes you see in tv rather than that of pity.

you wished there was a universe where gotham was safer, more protected with no criminals littering the streets. maybe then they would have more time to notice you crying every night, writing self destructive entries in your diary, sketching what would've been a happy family. they wouldn't have to wear their silly costumes to fight crime and instead would save you from your own demons.

if...

if you were brutally tortured and killed by the joker, or forced to choke on the fear toxin by the scarecrow— hell, even beaten to near death by some random goons; would they have given you a sliver of their love? would they finally look at you and save you from yourself?

because despite your resentment, you would never lie and say you didn't feel blessed that you were thrown to a family of talented individuals.

your drawings of a complete and happy family holding hands together and a diary filled with rants and fantasies of spending time with them proved just that.

you were blessed with them yet cursed at the same time to never reach the same level to be even considered part of their lives.

you were hopeless. you never amounted to anything. you were just, you.

thirteen years have passed by then, and in those years you were proud to say your development as a person, albeit slow, transformed you from a child that succumbed to neglect to an independent person who managed to maintain a comfortable circle of friends, a scholarship for a college far away from gotham, and an apartment of your own (you were a bit in debt due to having to pay for your own because no way in hell would you ask for your father for financial support).

allowance was scarce, your food supplies weren't infinite compared to back when you were living at the wayne manor, and you weren't greeted to michelin star restaurant meals cooked by alfred— but you were content, and that was enough.

though content translated to nightly breakdowns whilst finishing projects or writing essays, the point still stands! at least you had celebrated your eighteenth birthday with drunk smiles and your friends spoiling you to death when you had opened up about your first lonely years of life. everything was going well for you, truly.

you were so, so happy for the nice turn of events. and you wouldn't have made it so far if you hadn't slapped yourself out of the delusion that they actually cared for you.

look at you now! independent and with a life of your own! you'd give yourself a pat in the back.

you hadn't blocked them at all, but their contacts were empty (save for a few desperate messages that date back years ago) and you were fine with that. it's not like tim or bruce or barbara considered you important enough to be stalked. hah, as if!

alfred communicates with you time to time, reminding you to eat a complete meal rather than those one dollar priced noodles that tasted like pure salt. he told you he misses you a lot, you and your annoying, daily rants about life and school. he misses your awkward smile and when you would help him cook whenever the others aren't around. he misses it when you imitate his posh accent when you taste test his food and give commentary about it.

you miss him, too. growing up, you realized just how much effort alfred would exert just to spend a lot of his time on you.

now, he told you that you are still welcome to the manor whenever, and how he cleans your room weekly in case you'll visit him.

whenever you audio call with him, you'd tear up just a bit at the realization that alfred was more of a father figure than your own biological father. because he at least attended your graduation to make up for the other times he was unable to join you.

what's even better was that he gifted you something you had always wanted for your birthday. despite it being delivered to your door rather than him giving it to you face to face (since you had refused to give him your location and him respecting that decision at least), the heartfelt letter he left you was more than enough to let you cling onto pieces of your past. after all, it was him who greeted you by the door when you were first introduced into the family, bruce being too busy with paperwork that day when you were a measly five year old.

you had started to teasingly call him 'alfie' and a few more nickname after that, which results with a chuckle over the phone every time you had come up with a cheesy name for him whenever you get a wee bit irritated at his own way of making fun of you.

if only this was your life years ago, then maybe you wouldn't have been jealous of all your other friends and pushed them away that day, maybe you would learn that sometimes, family comes in the form of the people outside of your house rather than inside.

that reminds you, maybe you should reconnect with your old friends back in elementary and apologized for your sudden explosive behavior.

you were laying on your bed, phone in hand and opened your inst*gram app to stalk through the names you could remember. well... that was what you should've done, if not for the fact that a notification popped up the very moment you pressed on the search bar and you had accidentally opened a chat with your oldest brother, dick.

you would've ignored the desperate messages you have sent him from the past which all varied from inviting him to eat dinner with you or to at least join you to play in an arcade or anything to convince him to talk to you, all of which were unseen, if not for the fact that it was him who sent you a sudden "hey baby bird!!! <333 long time no see! how are you?!" message, alongside a few more replies that spammed through your phone...

oh!

... that was enough to make you sit up and want to hurl.

dick grayson was a man of many talents. the mature eldest child, the ideal good leader despite his anger issues from time to time, and the same guy who set the standards high for the future robins. he is bruce's greatest achievement.

it was safe to say that if not for the support of many, then he would've suffered so many falls and would've never been strong enough to stand up despite the pain and continue his fights. nightwing was what many superheroes strive to be, an image of light in a grove of darkness such as gotham.

so why was it that he felt like he has failed so deeply right now?

inside your room, dick stands with furrowed brows. it felt too clean to look used. your furniture was polished and look untouched, the lights were too bright and the windows were bolted shut. there were no signs of life other than the notebooks and sketchbooks that were neatly tucked on the middle of the bed and the trinkets that scatter through your desk.

dick stalks through the room, careful to not make a noise as he walks over to the closet, opening it and finding nothing.

he bites his lips at the implication that this was probably the second time he visited your room and how it was also the longest time he remained here. compared to his other siblings, you were the one he noticed the least and... now he feels bad for dismissing you.

didn't he promise to take you out for dinner months ago?

damn it, he was way too focused on his mission that night and ended up ditching and forgetting you! oh god, dick facepalmed and clenched his teeth, seething in some air because no fucking way did he actually remember to feed damian's dog, titus, the same day but forgot to take you out for an important event...

it occurred to him that that was the same day you scored a perfect on "the hardest test of my life!" you had bragged to him awkwardly when he wasn't listening nor looking and you, wanting to celebrate what was a small achievement for dick, chose him to spend time with you!

dick had to carefully breath through his mouth then gulp down the shame he feels right now. he- he has no time to focus on the past but rather the present. he has to find out why the hell is your room so lifeless, yeah... then he'll make it up to you today, definitely.

huh?

is it just him, but why does the room seem so small? it looked like it was meant to be for a kid. clearly, there wasn't enough space for a growing individual like you... did bruce not provide you with a bigger bedroom? ah, dick would definitely tell bruce to relocate you to a bigger room, the current one is too small for even a dog in a manor to sleep in.

dick doesn't want to admit it at all, but... he hasn't seen you for the past few months, or not all, really. sure, he had only recently visited the manor since he's bludhaven's vigilante now, but even through his time in gotham he had never seen you other than the times you pulled his sleeves from back when you were a child.

back when you were a child.

how old are you now? you were so small back then, innocent too. he can recall your curious eyes, your chubby cheeks and the way you stutter through your words as you try to talk to him.

you were significantly younger than jason, and was adopted a week before tim was introduced to the family. he remembers you peeking through alfred's back, gleaming with curiousity and whispering to the butler if it was really the dick grayson. he smiled fondly at your dumbfounded expression, the way your mouth shaped into an "ohh," when he was the one who answered that, yes, it was him. then you whispered again if you can take have an autograph from him, to which he chuckled and told alfred that he'll help accompany you to your room.

when your five year old body tried to waddle closer to his body for an ounce of warmth when he had been guiding you up the stairs, that was also the first time he called you baby bird, with the way you coddled him so closely. his hands find itself patting your head, ruffling your hair and grinning as you both make your path through the halls.

he comes to immediately regret leaving you alone after he had introduced you to your room, remembering his duties as a vigilante than that of a brother.

but despite his early memories of you, he wants to see his baby sibling all grown up now.

had it really been years?

when was the last time you ever had a full-on conversation with him?

was there even a time that he had approached you by himself?

he had always called you baby bird after the first time you meet because of the age gap you two shared. the rare times he acknowledges you, you gave him that look filled with such adoration, like you were proud of him for being your older brother. why did he not notice you?

oh, his baby bird...

dick gulped, trying to ease his shivering by sitting on your neatly folded blankets and taking a worn diary in his hand, one at the bottom stack of books. well, if it was a personal diary then maybe you would've hidden it better, right? he figures since it was all placed on the center of the bed like a piece of treasure that... it would be alright to take just a glimpse.

to confirm if you still see him as your favorite brother.

dick's heartbeat spiked, hoping your entries would be filled with, he doesn't know, anything that didn't implicate some sort of hatred for the family, for him. hoping that despite his lack of attention towards you, that there would still be a spark of love for him. if what he thinks was actually true then... he doesn't know what to do with himself.

he flips through the first page, noting how it was bulkier than the others. the paper was filled with glittery decorations, sequence beads and cheap stickers sparkling at every angle the light hits. it was meant to be a design for the 'front cover' of the notebook, colors blended in a cacophony of rainbows and butterflies and flowers beyond the messy calligraphy that merely states "(name)'s diary!"

dick stifles a grin just from skimming through at the amount of mistakes and erasures, clearly written by the the younger version of you; naive to the world and its cruelty. he commends your creativity, his eyes softening at the few doodles that were written on the corners of the pages.

you're just too adorable for your own good, so much so that the thumping in dick's heart beats louder and louder, ears wringing uncomfortable inside your unventilated bedroom. but he just couldn't rip his eyes away from the diary, daydreaming about how proud you must've been when designing your own diary. he could picture your wide eyes, shy and harmless, and your feet kicking back and forth whilst you decorate your stuff.

everything was what he expected it to be on the first few pages of the diary. all your little rants about your daily life, your eargerness to meet your entire family from your father's side, and the hurt you experienced from your mother's sudden abandonment.

he would've skipped through another diary, one that lacked design and color, save for the name plastered on the front, if not for the grim undertones at every end of your entries despite the child-like manner it was written in.

it all started with "i wish to see my father soon and my big brother dick again!", "alfred told me my father can't come to the parent-teacher conference, he says he's in a veryyy important meeting :( but alfred would come!", "dick told me he can't help me with my science project but he promise he'll help me with something else later!" which halfway through the diary, your style fluctuates and lesser effort was exhausted on the writing.

one entry in particular, written on the last page of your diary, shattered a sliver of hope within dick, his breathing momentarily ceased from reading through your sentences; uncharacteristic of you, too mature for someone at the age of ten to write.

"XX/XX/XXXX.

dear diary, it's my tenth birthday today. i celebrated with my friends at school. they told me i always look down whenever it's my birthday. they think that bruce would throw a fancy celebration for me. i tried to hide my laughter from them. it's a really funny joke. i haven't seen him for months. i told dick that he was invited but i don't think he remembers it's my birthday today. alfred told me to come out of my room, he said he cooked my favorite dinner, that he's sorry he got my present late, but i don't want get out of my room. i heard dick is gonna watch a movie with tim later. i don't feel so good, my chest hurts, but i don't want to get out right now.

i'll eat the cupcake tomorrow."

it had been nearly two hours since dick had sat on your bed, eyes dilating whilst reading through your first diary. the cold season had already pricked his skin, but his entire body felt so unnaturally warm, a warmth that scorches him, searing deep into flesh. a lump had form in his throat, accompanying the hellish throbbing of his heart.

"fuck..." he brought his fingers to his head, carefully massaging his forehead but it relieves nothing. he wants to see you right now— he needs to talk to you. god, he has to apologize, he needs to see what you look like right now, needs to know if you're alright.

you're clearly not.

he has to oppress the urge to punch the walls, reminding himself that it's your room he's in and if he damages your already delicate property, then he's proving himself worse than he already is.

he rushes to grab another diary, the one at the top of the pile, skipping to the end of the page.

nothing. all the entries were months ago, all written in vague detail like you were starting to hide secrets. his teeth grinds against each other, frustration seeping through his veins.

he needs to— shit, he needs to find you right now. he needs to find his baby bird and make up for the all bullshit him and his family had done. if you were gone for months, even years; he doesn't even want to think about it.

but how?!

there were no signs of you. anything written your diary, your drawings, the trinkets on your bedside table— they signal no clues whatsoever, all dating back to months, even years. it's not possible at all, for nobody to notice your disappearance. dick would've noticed sooner. he should've noticed sooner. oh, he doesn't even want to think about the dangers that await you outside the mansion. with how naive you were about the outside world, you wouldn't last at all.

his baby bird wouldn't survive gotham's streets, especially not when winter was nearing.

think, grayson, think...

his phone!

he immediately reaches into his pockets to grab his phone, clammy fingers swifly encoding his password and opening his contacts.

your number was the quickest to find, it was the only one without an icon of you and an endearing nickname. he makes a mental note to change that soon and replaced your default name to your nickname.

then, without hesitation, he typed, "hey baby bird!!! <333 long time no see! how are you?!" sending the message without rereading, foot tapping impatiently against the floor as he scrolls through all your previous messages.

messages that he should've replied to with the same level of enthusiasm as you. skimming through the past, unseen texts as your motivation began to dwindle the further he refused to reply back. he promises he'll never make you feel invisible again.

seconds feel like hours for him, as he blows raspberries to pass the time, too concentrated an ounce of a reply to even notice the entirely new presence inside the room.

it's alright to call you, yes? after all, dick just wanted to check in with his baby bird and see if you're doing swell and dandy and... safe without him...!

his thumbs pressed on the call button before he could think through his actions, his other hand runs through his hair, sweat running down his forehead as if he had ran a marathon.

he waited, and waited, and waited until the call beeped and provided its automated response. he calls you again but the line immediately cuts off, he tries to spam you with more messages but they weren't delivered.

you blocked him.

fuck, he messed up big time. he needs to get to the batcave. he needs to find your fucking location before it's too late. dick needs to see you again before he loses it.

but before he could carefully place your sketchbooks back to its rightful place, he sees a silhouette at the corner of his eyes; short figure, arms crossed, and a sneer on his eyes already tells him who it was.

damian wayne.

he forgot to train with damian today.

but it doesn't matter, damian has to see it for himself— what made dick so disheveled, so delirious. damian has to finally see just how much of a wonderful sibling you are.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: this was 4,600+ words and it drained the energy out of me. it was supposed to be posted tomorrow but i was too motivated !! i'm also quite proud of this chapter. it was a pain characterizing dick grayson and the reader. i really hope this is as good as the prequel because it's 3am right now and writing dick's part was a pain in the ass ^^' as always, please do comment or send asks if you like it for quicker updates!!!

taglist: @lilyalone, @secretomelettetroops, @earlqurl, @simpingfor-wakasa, @amber-content, @alishii, @ruiroku, @okaybutfullhomo, @trasshy-artist, @obsessedwithromance, @deadinside-09, @jjsmeowthie, @fairy-lenaa (shoutout to her specifically because i got motivated from their comment!)

[screampied]

i have an idea :]

ok so i always see people asking for gentle/needy/desperate choso. and i love it, but…

what about unassumingly ruthless choso? reader doesn’t know what she’s getting into? reader is cocky and gets humbled FAST? idk i just…

👉👈

❤︎ ໋𓈒 choso who puts his cute bratty gf in her place

warnings. fem! reader, attempted brat taming, doggystyle, big dick choso, unprotected.

you’ve always been one to push his buttons, mainly because he always made it so easy.

choso was as intimidating as a kitten, whenever you’d tease him he’d always keep composure or restrain himself.

briefly smiling nervously, kissing your wrist and telling you to be a good girl and wait until you each return home.

but one day, he kind of just snaps…

he takes you home from shopping nearly all day with you, and you were enthusiastically ecstatic. you wondered what he’d do this time, but your thoughts were no match for what he had initially planned. to put it brief, choso had you laid on the bed on all fours. he’s drilling ruthlessly into your pussy and you’re just…speechless. choso’s so handsy, every few seconds he’d spank your ass to hear you whine out his name—in such two slutty syllables.

“c-choso..” you’d moan, the left side of your cheek attached practically to the silk bed sheets as if it was velcro.

“shh, no talkin, princess,” he grunts, and you could hear the slight whine picking up his voice before he stops himself. “i-i have to be more stern with you it seems. can’t always be so nice, gotta humble you just a little bit, fuck.”

if it was a word to perfectly describe you right now, at this particular moment…it would for sure be…dumbfounded.

you couldn’t see yourself but you’d bet money you looked stupid.

choso’s dick was so lengthy, appetizing and hitting every spot with just the tiniest amount of pressures his thrusts had you gnawing on the inside of your cheek with your toes curling tightly.

“what’s the matter? no more attitude?” he huffs, tilting his head to move some remaining strands that were starting to occlude his vision.

“i-if you’re gonna be rough, at least go h—”

“…oh, baby, you’re jus’ asking for it by this point.” he murmurs, wiping his forehead with the back of his palm.

your eyes rolls at feeling the very tips the curve of choso’s cock kiss against your folds. so deep, his thrusts were sloppy. purely responsible for the squelched that continuously sang throughout the room.

choso grabs onto both of your waist, and you moan once he’s just dragging your hips back and forth against him, making sure you feel every thick inch of his.

“do me a favor ‘n arch your back more,” immensely, you do—your body responds to choso with such a quickness it was simply humiliating. “good girl….now,” and you barely recognize choso’s voice. usually it’s so sweet and tender, now it was rough and a bit husky, a rasp hidden underneath each sentence he spoke.

needless to say, you found this version of choso to be quite hot.

“wait,” he pauses, pausing the mood with his own cute stammer in his voice, back to normal. “not goin' to rough, am i? i want you to be comfortable and-”

“baby, ‘m fine. keep fucking me please.” you pleaded, feeling his hips stutter as he was in the middle of talking. even trying to keep up a act, he still wanted to make sure you were okay—choso simpers to himself, caressing your ass before spanking it yet another time.

“okay okay,” he hums. his hips pick up again and you’re basically being pounded into the bed. the grip he had on your hips wasn’t too rough but just the perfect amount.

choso’s breathing starts to pick up, and he enjoys the view of you more than he thought he would. his head goes back, along with his let down hair before he pivots his hips a certain way. your pussy clamped down against him and you hear his jaw clench in pleasure. “…shit.”

your legs quavered beneath him, and he then used a hand to bring both of your wrists behind your back. “j-just like that choso, please, please.”

“baby, you’re not supposed to be praising me,” he pouts, and you giggle before moaning again — a sudden moment occurs where you thickly swallow, only to continue your sweet whimpers. “this was s-supposed to be a punishment.”

“so punish me then.” you mewled, your cunt easily hugs him like a vice, the noise it makes, a wet pop and you’re just soaked. choso’s ears grows hot from the feeling and he knows you can feel it too.

he sighs, shoving you further into the bed. “you’re something else.” and his voice grows low and pitched again—yet choso does the unexpected. he leans right into you, and you instantaneously feel the heel of his foot press against the very back of your head.

he wore socks, the soft padded wool brushes against your neck, and he’s roughly driving into your pussy now to where you can’t even saying anything.

all that came out of your dumb mouth was a squeal, this angle…

“let me have you,” he grunts, balls deep, his base was thick and repeatedly thwacked against your entrance. you were dizzy…drunk, but not that kind of drunk. the good kind where all you could think about was how good you were getting stuffed by your boyfriend’s hefty cock. “yeah, just lie down and let me—fuck.”

you’re panting, and it felt so good.

choso was always used to being gentle and tender with you, although if you wanted him to be a little rougher, he was more than happy to oblige.

“i-i’m gonna cum, choso… gonna make me cum.”

“don’t think you deserve it, he utters, and your lips part, jaw dropping, plethora of sweetened moans only escaping as a subtle response. “you’ve been teasing me all day. even started to stroke me in the dressing room.”

“s-sorry.” you moaned.

choso remains with his foot near the back of your head before pursing his eyebrows together. “you’re not sorry are you, baby? be honest.”

“n—no,” you whined, the thickness of his shaft twitching inside of you felt so heavenly. you could have sworn you felt a vein that ran down his length pulse inside of your tight cunt. “you’re right, you’re right, ‘m not s-sorry.”

he chuckles. “you could have just lied, you know?”

choso’s angle and thrusts against you were so pivotal inside you, so astonishingly deep that not even moments later you end up cumming hard. leaving a ring around his base. your breathing was irregular and heavy, eyes half-lidded and just convulsing underneath him.

“messy girl,” he whispers, pulling out, not even caring that he didn’t finish, all that matters was that you did. choso turns you over before planting a kiss on your lips—you pull him in for another, and another, before you make him trample onto you. “did you learn your lesson?”

“no,” you moaned, sitting up before lightly shoving him down on his back, straddling his lap now. “i want more.”

choso smirks, sliding a hand down your waist, fully disregarding his flustered face at seeing you attempt to take control. “of course you do, brat.”

[mysicklove]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐃

DAY 16: PILLOW HUMPING + PHONE SEX

With: Tamaki Amajiki

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Sub! Top! Tamaki, bottom! gn! reader, praise kink, slight breeding kink, reader is a slight tease and tamaki is trying not to pass out from embaressment, fantasies, creampie in fantasy Y/N? does that need a tag?

A/N: another fic i STRUGGLED with. idk whyyyy.

Tamaki knows he shouldn't be doing this. He knows that if anyone ever saw him, he would be deemed a weirdo, a pervert, really. But it was just so hard. 

It's not fair that you left him alone. Its not fair that you made him miss you until his heart ached. It's not fair that you havent touched him in longer than three weeks. Its not fair that he is here, straddling a pillow, while you probably aren't even thinking of him at all.

The whole thing makes him fume red. Humping a pillow was as desperate as it gets. His hand wasnt doing it for him anymore, he needs to move his hips, pretend he is fucking something. It was bound to give him more satisfaction. Or he hoped it did, but it doesnt change the fact that it was embarrassing.

The pillow was soft, but sturdy, and held a bit of stability. It wouldn't crumble against the sheets with each thrust, nor be too feathery to really feel anything. A good pillow – it will work fine.

He wears one of your shirts. An oversized one, that seems to drown him with the fabric. It smelled like you, and he has to refrain from pressing the collar of it against his nose. It would only turn him on more, and thats not what he needed right now.

Tamaki's hands tremble as he adjusts himself. He flips the hem of your shirt upward to give himself a view of his thin cock. Its red, and pulsing, ready for him to begin moving. He brings his hands up to his face, covering it with the back of his palm. “So embarrassing,” He whines into the empty room, but not moving from his position on top of the pillow.

He stables himself, and then very hesitantly drags his hips forward. The bottom of his dick grazes against the pillow and he takes a deep breath. Its soft, slightly cold from the lack of human contact with it, but he doesnt mind warming it up. He grinds himself forward again, his two hands gripping at the front of the pillow to slightly pull it up, giving him more area to brush himself on.

He whimpers, closing his eyes and falling into a steady pace. It's not as pleasurable as he wanted it to be, and it was driving him insane. But he liked the feeling of riding something, and he pretended the pillow was you. The thought spurs him on, and his pace begins to pick up. The movements of his hips are short, quick, and he slightly bounces on it. Tamakis breath becomes short, and he sighs into the open air, throwing his head back and humping whatever surface of the soft fabric he could. 

A couple minutes go by and he was on the verge of crying from frustration. It barely made him feel any better, and he was going to have to be here for awhile if he wanted to cum. He grabs onto your shirt and brings it up to his nose, inhaling your scent and groaning into the fabric. It made him feel a bit better.

Suddenly, he hears the familiar vibrations from his phone. He was getting a call, and the last thing he wanted to do was talk to someone. But, he wasn't one to ignore something that could be important. So, he leans forward and flips over the phone. When he sees your name with an abundance of heart emojis that you typed in for your own contant info, his eyes light up.

He inches toward the answer button, but pauses for a second, realizing the position he is in. It was definitely not appropriate to talk to you like this, but he wanted desperately to hear your voice. It was gross and pathetic, but didnt you say you like when he acts pathetic? Besides, you could definitely fix his problem. You know exactly what to do to make him feel good.

So he answers the phone, and waits for you to speak. 

“Hey love,” You hum through his phone, and he almost whines out from that alone. He glances back down at his cock, a glob of precum dripping down pathetically onto the pillow. He covers his face in embarrassment.

“Hi Y/N,” He mumbles into the mic, staring at his fingers, and doing anything he can to ignore his cock. He wants to ask you for help, but how? Even after all this time of being together, he has never voiced his sexual wants and needs. It was just too hard to, and besides you always seemed to find out his desires one way or another.

“Whatcha up to?”

Tamaki pauses. Lying was definitely not one of his specialties, and to you? He was a goner for sure. He goes silent for longer than 30 seconds. “Tamaki?”

“Something I shouldn't be doing,” He whispers, falling forward to rest his cheek on the mattress. He still lays straddling the pillow, but now his cock was trapped between his stomach, and the pillow. 

A slight giggle comes from the phone, and he gulps, ignoring the way his dick twitches. “Are you doing something naughty?”

Naughty. Such a childish word, but it was the perfect adjective to describe his situation. It made him feel small, and strangely it brought comfort to him. He nods into the mattress, his hips moving without his permission, and continuing their grinding movements.

“You've gotta speak up for me, love.”

He may be shy, but he would never dare to not listen to a command. “Yes. Sorry.” 

“Yes what?”

He lets out a small whimper, barely audible over the phone. “‘m doing something…naughty.”

The dark haired boy squirms on the bed, listening to the way you inhale sharply. His hands begin to travel downward, but he stops himself before he could start stroking himself off. “What are you doing, love?”

He goes silent for a couple seconds, and he continues to shift around the bed. He gulps and looks down at his leaking cock, and then away. “I’m….I’m humping a…pillow?”

You let out a dramatic, slightly teasing gasp. “So dirty, Tamaki!”

He wants to curl up into a ball and die from embarrassment. He knows you are just poking fun at him, but truly everything about this was so humiliating. “I-I know! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I just miss you so much!” He warbles into the mic, wiping away a stray tear before it could fall.

He was so unbelievably cute, and his plea made your heart throb. “S’alright, relax, love. I miss you so much. So so much,” You reassure, closing your eyes to listen to his breathing. ‘

You hear a sniffle on the other end of the phone. “Why are you crying?”

You expected to hear a response declaring how much he missed seeing you, or having you around. Or maybe how lonely he felt. What you didn't expect was for him to say, “‘m not crying! Im frustrated because I cant cum!”

Tamaki being blunt about his needs was unheard of, and the shock of it made you bark a laugh. He shakes his head into the mattress, but begins his humping again. You already knew at this point what he was doing, and he was already as embarrassed as it gets, so he rather search for more pleasure than wither is his own misery. 

“Well are you doing it right?”

He pauses his movements. Was there a right or wrong way to do it? His horny brain was screaming at him to just get any sort of friction from the white item, but was there a better way to do it? To feel more pleasurable? “I-I dont know…”

“Aren't you pretending that I'm the pillow?” Your words make him yelp, and you hold back a snicker. You were right of course, but the fact that you knew about it made him want to dig himself a hole to hide in.

But nevertheless, his hips havent stopped their movements. Its a slow pace, just enough to make his breaths heavier. “Yeah,” He breathes into the mic, so quite that you almost missed it.

You hum to yourself, hand traveling over your own body to get yourself in the mood. “Then you need a hole to fuck, dont you, pretty boy?”

The statement causes him to lose his breath and he can't think quick enough to find a response. You continue on, “Put two pillows together so that you can get friction on both sides of your pretty little cock. It will feel so much better,” You encourage, and his eyes instantly travel to the extra pillow just inches away from him. He gulps, but grabs onto it, and places it under his lower stomach and on top of his dick.

“N-Now what?”

“It's not rocket science, silly. Fuck it now. But make sure to keep the pillow beneath your stomach, so that the hole is tighter.”

He blushes at his stupid words, but instead focuses on your advice. He pulls out, and then pushes himself back into the two soft cushions. He groans out, and sets the phone on speaker and places it next to his face. This was way better, and he needed to focus.

You hear his breaths get quicker and you smile. “There ya are. Does it feel better, Tamaki?”

He uses his hands to push the pillows together, creating a even smaller hole. But he nods at your words, staring at your profile picture with tears in his eyes. “W-Wish it was you. Not as tight…Warm.”

You hands travel toward your pants at the words. “Yeah? Use your imagination, love. Pretend that's me, what do you want to do with me?”

His whole body caves over on himself, and he bucks his hips frantically. His face is a bright shade of pink, and he wears a wobbly, but content smile. “Wanna—Wanna….You to tell me what to do,” He whines out, fingers dragging along the beds sheets, wishing it was your back.

You snicker at him, not surprised by his words. “You are hopeless, Tamaki. So submissive, its so cute, you know that? You know how cute you are?”

He covers his face with his arm, moaning and whining into the soft skin. “Stop it…” He mumbles half heartedly, loving every drop of praise from your mouth.

“You love it,” You tease, and he secretly nods into the bedsheets, but not daring to tell you. “Alright, let's have you cum, hmm? Can you close your eyes for me?”

His eyes flutter shut before you could even finish your sentence. “‘kay.” 

“Good job,” You murmur, and he gulps, nuzzling his face into the bed, pretending it’s your chest. “Now move your hips for me. In and out, yeah?.”

He doesn’t have to do much, considering that he has been doing this exact same movement for the past couple minutes now. He doesn’t say anything, afraid you may poke fun at him again. “Tamakiiiii,” You purr, “I need to hear a response.”

“Sorry. Yes, yes, I‘m doing it. Promise!” He splutters, trying to maintain a steady pace of breathing. It was feeling so much better with both sides hugging him, but your voice was definitely helping as well.

You let out a breath, and smile. “Good boy. Now, tell me, what are you imagining. Wanna hear the specifics, love.”

He whines at this. He didnt want to expose his thoughts; you would definitely think he was weird. A pervert who cant go a couple weeks without cumming. “Nooooo,” He whimpers, eyes still shut. “So embarrassing.”

Your voice turns commanding in an instant. “Oh? Stop moving then.”

Unwillingly he listens, his body so used to listening to your commands, that he doesn't even process what you said until he stopped his hips. He groans into the sheets, and feels his cock twitch within the pillows. It doesn't want to stop. “Noooo,” He complains once more, hating the way tears begin to build up, and threaten to spill over his closed eyes.

Your heart throbs at the small whimpers he lets out, and your strict tone seems to melt away. “You have to listen if you want to cum, baby. I know its embarrassing, but I want you to feel good. Dont be shy, I won't judge you.”

You hear a sniffle from the other end of the phone. “Okay. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. C-Can I move now? I'll tell you my…my fantasy.” 

You hum encouragingly at him, and he takes it as a yes, slowly beginning to move his hips again. He sighs at the softness, nodding his head to himself. But, he doesn't get too lost in his pleasure, he has to hold up the end of the bargain. “I-Im pretended the pillow is you.”

You roll your eyes slightly, a grin on your face. He was obviously nervous if he was stating the obvious. “Yeah? Are you fucking me nice and hard?”

Your words are so lewd and he fumes red at them. “U-Um…Yeah. Y-You feel so good.” Referring to the makeshift hole as you, makes him feel slightly bad. He knows you are may more than that to him. But it was obvious that you were trying to initiate some sort of phone sex, and he didn't want to ruin the moment.

Your fingers travel down to your pants, and you finally get comfortable. You begin to touch yourself, trying to imagine yourself into his fantasy. “So deep Tamaki,” You purr, sighing into the mic.

His eyes widen for a split second, but he quickly shuts them again. At your words, he finds himself thrusting himself deeper into the hole, mewling out as pre covers the soft fabric. He finds himself imagining you beneath him, grinning up at him with a flushed out, but cocky grin. 

“Fuck,” He whispers gently to the image of you. “I missed you so much. So so much.”

“Missed you too,” You murmur, throwing your head back slightly. “Doing so well for me.”

His hips stutters at the praise, and he gulps. Whenever you praise him, it sends his head spinning, and he loves it more than anything. “F-For you. Only for you!”

The position he was in was so lewd. His mouth slightly gnawing on his hand, his hips thrusting into two pillows, and his body a bright shade of pink. The bed was even creaking from his intense movements, but he didnt seem to care. “P-Praise me…More, please?”

“You're doing so good. Making me feel so good, Tamaki. Are you going to make me cum?”

He nods his head frantically, loving the idea more than anything. To make himself cum was one thing, but making you feel good enough to cum was a whole other thing. It made the service sub in him preen, and his thrusts are more desperate now. He imagines you shivering, and moaning into his neck, maybe even leaving scratch marks down his back. “Yes. Yes, I'll make you cum. I'll make you feel so good, please!”

You smile lazily at the wall. “Such a good boy. I'm so lucky to have such a pretty and obedient boyfriend.”

A wobbly smile is tugging at his face, and he feels like a schoolgirl. Giddy, and nervous around you and your voice. He swears the fantasy becomes more surreal. The pillow seems to be hugging him just how you would, and in the back of his mind he can hear the slapping of skin upon skin. “I love you. I love you so much, you feel so good. I can't hold it much longer!”

“Aw are you going to cum already?” You tease, feeling your own high approaching rapidly.

At the words he lets out a dramatic whine, feeling guilty. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Y-You just…oh god. Feel so good!” He warbles, shaking hands gripping onto the phone. He spreads his legs out wider, finding a new position to thrust his hips. His hair begins to stick to his head, and with every breath, a moan slips past his lips.

You are on the same page, hands moving quicker to hopefully match his high. “Its alright. Im going to cum to. Are you going to cum inside me? Wanna fill me up?”

He heaves at your words, hearts in his eyes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. He did desperately. It was way better than pulling out, or cumming into the condom. “Please! Please!”

His moans are high in pitch now, and his pace is sporatic. They are frantic though, and the entire bed shakes with his fierce movements. 

“Good boy. Cum inside me then,” You purr directly into the mic, and his eyes fly open when he cums. He lets out a high pitched scream, and bites his hand to try and stay quite. The boys hips ram into the pillow, and his thoughts are cloudy, thinking about how deep he must be cumming in you. His whole body is shivering in pleasure, and he wears a small smile.

You cum a moment later, shaking and sighing, but not making as much noise as your beloved. You didnt mind, his high pitched moans and screams were cute, you just wished he got over that stupid need to bite his hand whenever he cums. It muffles them way too much for your liking.

Post nut clarity hits Tamaki like a truck and his face turns a bright shade of red. Asking you to praise him, and even begging to cum “inside” you? Humiliating.

“I know what you are thinking, love. Dont be embarrassed. It was fun. Good. What lovers do,” You reassure, knowing his anxiety gets the better of him. 

He takes comfort in your words immediately, slightly nodding to himself and trying to think of something else to hopefully die down the embaressment. He feels exhausted, and instead focuses on that. He pulls out of the pillows with a sigh and brings the phone to his face to begin wishing you goodnight.

His eyes widen when he realizes something, and he lets out a dramatic gasp.

The sound makes you perk up, and you are on immediate alert. “Whats wrong?”

“Oh no. This is bad. What do I do now?” He begins to mumble, eyes scanning across the bed.

“What? What happened?” You question more frantically now, pulling the phone closer to your ear.

It goes silent on the other end for about thirty seconds. He pulls away the two pillows and gulps as his stares at his own product. This was bad. Truly a problem.

“What am I supposed to sleep on tonight?”

It takes everything in you to not hang up on him.

PREV POST | MASTERLIST | NEXT POST

[rafesangelita]

rafe + overstim

warnings: overstimulation, unprotected sex

“don’t close your legs now, you were just begging for this shit.” rafe yanked you towards the edge of the bed by your ankles, a soft protest leaving your lips once he lined himself up with your entrance. “wait, y-you can’t,” you were still trembling from the aftershocks of your previous orgasm, “m’too sensitive, ‘hurts rafe.” you nearly cried when he started stroking your clit with the throbbing head of his cock. “it hurts?” he taunted, “did you think about it hurting when you were acting like a fucking brat in front of my family earlier?” rafe pushed the tip in, your body jolting in response.

“wanna grab my dick under the table but act all sweet and innocent like you’re some kind of saint. if only everyone knew how much of a cock slut you really are.” he shook his head, slamming into your cunt with a groan. you yelped, hands flying out to grab ahold of his wrists. this wasn’t the first time rafe fucked you when you were overstimulated, but the feeling was still unbearable, your hips moving in an attempt to pull away from him. he grabbed you by the curves of your waist, holding you down as you writhed in both pleasure and pain. “fuck- please, i won’t do it again.” tears were running down your cheeks now.

rafe scoffed. “of course you are, you know why?” he leaned down, “because you love this, ‘love being manhandled and forced to cum even though you whine and say no.” you let out a shaky breath, your mouth falling open in a silent moan when you felt his fingers circle your clit. “is that not true?” he planted a kiss on the tip of your nose, waiting for you to give him the green light to keep up his ministrations. as soon as a ‘yes.’ slipped past your lips, rafe was merciless on your cunt, torturing your bundle of nerves as he fucked into you like there was no tomorrow.

you lost all ability to hold yourself up, your elbows collapsing from underneath you. “you’re doing so good, baby. ‘think you can give me three more?” he smiled down at the dazed expression on your face. three more? surely you’d pass out by then. when you felt your second orgasm of the night approaching, you couldn’t help your thighs from shaking around his waist. “rafe, i-i’m gonna cum..” spots dotted your vision as you fell over the edge, your eyes screwing shut when you felt that band in your stomach snap. rafe shushed you, still holding you in place when your thighs threatened to close around his hand.

“try to move away again and i’ll make the next one so much worse.” he said through gritted teeth. even though rafe was close himself, he enjoyed seeing just how fucked-out he could make you. “too much!” you squeaked. taking your lips with his own, he stopped working on your clit, slowly thrusting into you so you could feel a small sense of relief. “are you okay?” he met your starry gaze. blinking slowly, you nodded. “good, because we’re not done yet.”

[jjsbaby]

imagine recording a sex tape with boyfriend!rafe 😮‍💨🤭 he'd be so smug about it too

i love your mind. i also think just the act of recording would make him slightly feral.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

honestly i think he’d be so mean about it. he’s already kind of a bully during sex and i think that you letting him record you both would drive it over the edge. he’d start off real nice, using one hand to record while teasing your clit with the other. making sure he’s capturing how pretty you look as you moan underneath him, he’d press harder. “gotta give the camera a show, huh? show me how much of a whore you are, letting me record you like this.” his voice dripping in lust and his eyes hungry as they bore into yours. all you can do is whine back at you as he slips two fingers inside of you to prove his point.

after you finish at least once on his hand, he switches it around so you can give him head. rafe has you sit there for a moment, dirty talking you as he slaps his tip against your lips. “such a fucking slut, kid. want everyone to see how well you swallow my dick?” as you put him into your mouth, he puts the phone down at an angle where you can still see anything and gathers your hair into one hand and starts thrusting into your mouth. “takin’ it so fuckin well. choking on this dick for daddy.” he grunts, giving a few harder thrusts before pulling out to let you breathe. he wipes the spit that’s fallen on your chin across your face, before slapping you twice. they aren’t necessarily hard hits but they’re just enough to put you in a daze as he shoves his cock back into your mouth.

he fucks into your throat at an animalistic pace, holding your head still with his hand as he grabs his phone again. you moan around him, brain hazy and dumb. “wanna say hi to the camera baby?” he says as he slows down, putting the camera closer to your face to capture the mess he’s made of you. lines of mascara have travelled down your cheeks with his cock still stuffed in your mouth and he swears you’ve never looked better. “c’mon kid, on the bed.” he demands, pulling out of your mouth and tapping your cheek gently. “needa fuck your pretty pussy.” he lines himself up with you, using one hand to lift your leg onto his shoulder and record as he teases his head along your slit.

“ ‘s fuckin wet. you like this shit huh? like it when i record you being a dumb slut?” he teases as he glides through your slit with ease. without warning, he pushes into you and starts pounding into you. you let out a loud moan, grabbing onto him. you can see him smirk slightly, grabbing onto your hip to give himself more leverage to reach deeper inside of you. as he hits deeper, your eyes get hazy and you squeeze them shut. practically panting as he drills in and out, you begin to clench around him. “f-fuck rafe, ‘m gonna cum! you’re so deep god.” you whine, too fucked out to care. “cum for me dollface. show me how good it feels.” he groans, his own release steadily approaching. you spasm around him, letting out pornagraphic moans your release gushing out of you as you clench down even tighter around him.

he finishes after you, painting your insides white as his hips stutter and slow to a stop. he slowly pulls out of you while pointing the camera towards your cunt to see his cum spill out of you. “fuck baby, look at you messy you are. letting me drip out like that.” he teases, using a finger to collect some and push it back inside of you. as your leg twitches from the stimulation, he pulls back out and puts it in your mouth allowing you to taste the mixture of both of your release. “that’s my girl, always so good f’me.” he praises, cutting the camera off and leaning down to kiss you. “such a good camwhore for daddy.”

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

[hoejosatoru]

Skill Set - blue lock men

What body part they use best. All aged up and yes I’m reusing blurbs from the skull set posts of different anime bc, again, there’s only so many ways you can describe sex acts generically enough that it applies to multiple people lol

Can finger you like no one else. One of the few men who has not lost the fine art of fingering. His fingers are long and slender but so strong. His hands are rough and scarred from years of getting into fights, but it feels so good. He finds your g spot easily, pressing into it until you’re soaked and needy. “Hmm, you like when I touch you like that, angel?” He toys with your clit until you’re right at the edge before plunging his fingers back into your throbbing pussy. Loves how easy it is to tease you like that. How fully in control he is over your pleasure with just a few touches. It’s such an ordinary part of the body, the hands, and yet his can pull the sweetest moans out of you like it’s nothing. “Go on and cum all over my fingers, baby. Wanna feel you squeeze ‘em real good.” Will literally play with your pussy for hours and absolutely will.

Sae (edges you like crazy), Reo, Aryu (ngl I lowkey think he's gay but I'll play along)

Loves eating pussy so much. Does it for his own pleasure as much as yours. Does it in all different positions - missionary, face sitting, from the back. Literally doesn’t care as long as he gets to eat you out. He presses his tongue into your tight hole, wiggling the warm, soft muscle inside you. “Mmm, tastes so fucking sweet.” Sucks on your clit until you’re squirming away from him. But don’t think you’re going anywhere. He’ll grip your hips tight, flicking his tongue over your aching clit until you’re gasping and shaking. He loves when you get lost in it, rutting your pussy against his tongue. “Yeah, baby, fuck my tongue just like that.” He’s not happy until his face is covered in your slick cum.

Nagi (specifically lovesss face sitting, will jerk himself off as he does it), Chigiri (please play w his hair while he does it), Otoya

Gives the best dick. He’s nice and big, making your pussy stretch pleasurable every time. He knows exactly where to angle himself to get you seeing stars. Loves pressing your knees up to your chest and getting himself so deep inside you. “Feel that baby? Feel me in your tummy?” A weaker man would bust when he felt your pussy squeezing him like a vice, but he has unrivaled restraint. He knows how to perfectly work you up with, slow, long thrusts, then finishes you off fast and hard snaps of his hips. He’s so strong and can put the most delicious weight behind each pounding thrust. “Fuck princess, feel so good cumming on my cock.” Expect to go multiple rounds.

Barou (this man is fucking plowing you), Isagi, Kunigami, Rin, Karasu

BONUS - The men who can literally do it all. Can finger you senseless, will eat your pussy for hours, and will fuck you until you can barely walk. All above applies to them

Bachira (he knows what he's doing idc), Shidou (bro is a freak on all fronts), Oliver (this man is fucking HUNG I just know it), Kaiser (I've literally not even met this man in the manga yet but w the way y'all talk about him imma go ahead and put him here)

[xoheewon]

first time

heeseung x virgin f!reader genre: smut, fluff warnings: cursing, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, fellatio, fingering wc: 2.2k

Being a virgin in college has never been an issue for you. You don't feel embarrassed or ashamed, but you do feel left out.

All your friends constantly talk about their hookups and how amazing sex is.

At first, you figured it couldn't be that great, but as time continued you couldn't help but feel like you were missing out on something good.

“Don't feel left out Y/N, sex isn't always great,” Giselle says, putting her hand on your shoulder.

You and the girls were in your room, studying together.

“But you guys always talk about how great it is!”

“Well, it can be, with a person who knows what they're doing. We've all had our dud hookups with a guy who didn't know jack,” Karina adds. 

Winter butt's in, nodding her head, “I once had sex with this guy who was so quick to cum, I hadn't even taken my panties off yet. Then when he actually got his dick in me, he finished and didn't even get me off, I had to fake it.”

“Well how do you know if a guy knows what to do?” You ask, looking at Ningning who clears her throat. 

“You can't really tell just by looking at them, it usually comes down to how they act in the bedroom. If they worry about your pleasure as much as your own, I'd say they're pretty alright,” she says.

The girls all nod, agreeing. Karina pats your knee, “When the time comes and you feel like you're ready, the right person will be there.”

After they left, you thought about their words and they're right. When it's the right time and the right person, you'll be ready. You decide to shower and put pajamas on as it gets later.

Afterwards, you can hear the doorknob of the front door opening, your roommate must be home.

Heeseung is a nice guy. He's a year older, a senior who had been looking for a roommate to replace his old one. You, at the time, had been looking to move out of your parents house. 

You had a mutual friend, Sunghoon, who introduced you and within a week you had moved in. 

It's been a year now and living with Heeseung has been great. 

He's sweet, clean and respectful.

Unfortunately, he's also very hot.

You can't lie and say you haven't had a wet dream or two about him. 

Waking up with arousal pooling in your underwear is not the most comfortable feeling.

He comes in as you're sitting on the couch, greeting you cheerfully, “Hey Y/N!”

“Hi! It's late, what have you been up to?”

“I was just with the hottest girl, I was in heaven.”

“Oh, good for you,” you say, your smile faltering. 

“What about you, what did you do?”

You wave your hand, “The girls just came over to study.”

He nods, “I'm gonna go shower, you wanna watch a movie? Order dinner?”

You nod, watching as he retreats to the bathroom.

You sigh as the door closes.

Heeseung has probably had sex with a number of girls. He wouldn't want someone like you who's never done anything sexual.

15 minutes pass and you've been scrolling on the phone when the bathroom door opens again.

Heeseung comes out but he's not clothed.

His towel hangs around his hips, dangerously low.

You can't help the heat rising to your cheeks.

“What do you want for dinner? I'll order on my phone now,” you say, looking back down at your phone quickly.

His footsteps approach you as he hums, “You wanna get chinese?”

You see his feet in front of you as you look up.

He's right in front of you, water dripping on his body. His lean but toned chest glistens in the light of the living room.

“Or,” his hand comes up to cup your chin, “I could give you something else for dinner.”

“What are you implying?” You ask, stopping yourself from nuzzling into his hand.

“Come on, you know what I'm talking about. I've heard your pretty little whimpers and moans in your sleep when you're dreaming about me, waking up with your underwear soaked.”

You gulp, “I'm sorry.”

“What are you sorry for,” he says, “If anything I should be honored to have a pretty girl dream about me.”

You look down but he raises your chin back up. “Heeseung, you don't want anything to do with me. The farthest I've ever gone with a guy was making out. I can’t offer you anything.”

He smiles, “That's even better, means I get to show you what real pleasure feels like. Do you want that?”

Maybe this is your right person and right time.

You nod, “Can I..?” You trail off, gesturing to his towel.

He undoes the towel and his cock springs up.

His tip is red and you can't help how your mouth begins to salivate. 

“You wanna suck my cock, pretty girl?”

You nod your head and he chuckles.

He takes his hand and places it in front of your mouth, “Spit.”

You gather all the spit in your mouth before depositing it in his hand.

He begins to lather his cock, and you feel yourself begin to salivate even more.

“Hold it with your hand like this,” he says, guiding your hand to hold him.

He's warm in your hand and he guides you up and down his cock. 

“Now, start with the tip.”

You lay your tongue flat against the tip, licking around it albeit apprehensively.

Now, you may have never done this before but you've done your fair share of research.

You dip your tongue into his slit before swirling it around, collecting his pre-cum.

Heeseung groans from above you, bringing a hang up to wrap it in your hair.

You pull away for a moment before placing a delicate kiss on the tip which makes him chuckle.

“Start putting some of the length in your mouth, don't rush.”

You do as he says, using your tongue to lick the underside of his cock.

Once you become comfortable, you take more of him into your mouth, placing your hand where you can't take him.

“Now start bobbing your head and hollow your cheeks, that's all there is to it, pretty girl.”

You start sucking him off eagerly, whining as you feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

Heeseung moans from above you, “That's it, you're a natural.”

You go at him until your jaw begins to hurt and by then, Heeseung is tightening his grip on your hair. 

“I'm gonna cum, where do you want it?”

You pull off his cock with a pop, lolling your tongue out and continuing to jerk him off.

He smiles, “You're driving me crazy, pretty girl.”

Then, he's coming in your mouth, it's almost too much.

You swallow, not minding the taste. If anything you're proud that you made him cum.

He takes over jerking his cock to get himself hard again. 

“Can I do something?” He asks, and you nod.

“Lay back on the couch,” he says, “Gonna make you feel good.”

You do as you're told, getting comfortable. 

Heeseung gets on the couch facing you, trailing his fingers up your legs.

His hands reach your pajama top, “Can I take this off?” 

You nod, throwing your arms above your head as he begins to slide it off.

Your bare tits present themselves to him and his hands immediately come up to grope them.

His head dips, mouth coming to suck on your left nipple. 

You moan in pleasure, your hands coming to run themselves through his hair.

He twirls your other nipple between his fingers before switching.

“Such perfect tits, can't believe you've been hiding these from me.”

His mouth drops lower, kissing his way down your stomach before his lips reach the waistband of your shorts.

He looks up at you for permission and you give it to him.

Heeseung pulls your shorts and panties down, gazing at your dripping cunt.

“Such a pretty pussy, I never thought I'd get to see it.”

You blush, hands coming up to cover your face.

“Don't hide from me, I wanna see your beautiful face,” he says, pulling them away.

He lowers his face parallel to your cunt, blowing hot air on it, making you shiver.

“Heeseung-” You gasp as his tongue makes contact with your folds. 

He starts eating you out like a starved man.

His tongue finds you clit, massaging the nub, sucking on it.

Your back arches, your hands finding his hair once again.

“Oh my god, Heeseung!”

Finding your hole, he tenses his tongue, fucking it inside.

You've never felt pleasure like this.

Sure, you've masturbated, but this is a whole new world.

Heeseung switching between tongue fucking you and sucking your clit.

He brings a long, slender finger to your hole, letting your arousal coat it before slipping it inside. After a few minutes, he adds another finger, using them to open you up along with his tongue.

You can feel warmth pooling in your stomach, you know you're close.

“I'm gonna cum, Seungie,” you whine, bucking your hips up against his face.

“Cum for me,” he says, sighing as your release coats his tongue, face and fingers.

The lewd slurping sounds make your face hot as he inhales everything you give him.

As he pulls away, the lower part of his face is wet with your release and he doesn't hesitate to collect it on his fingers, sucking them into his mouth.

“You taste amazing, I could stay in that pussy for hours.”

“I've never felt anything like that before,” you say, breathing heavily.

“Do you wanna stop here? We don't have to continue if you're not ready,” he says, caressing your face.

You shake your head, “Want your cock, Seungie.”

He groans at your words, “Fuck, you're driving me crazy.”

You giggle, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer.

He takes his cock into his hand, rubbing it up and down your folds, making you whine as his tip continuously hits your puffy clit.

He saturates himself with your juices, before positioning himself at your entrance.

You nod at him and he slowly begins to enter you.

Inch by inch you feel the stretch, wincing slightly.

Once he bottoms out, he gives you time to adjust.

You take in the full feeling in your belly, like he's all the way inside your stomach.

You buck your hips, “Move, please.”

He starts off slow, pulling all the way out before pushing back in. He rolls his hips in a way that makes it feel like there's even more cock to take.

After he sees you're comfortable, he picks up the pace to a relentless thrust.

His balls hit your ass, the lewd slapping sound making you even more wet.

“Fuck, you're taking me so well pretty.”

You whine, nodding, “Love your cock, Seungie.”

His pace turns animalistic, fucking you into the couch as you moan louder and louder.

“Fuck, Heeseung!”

He lifts one of your legs, bringing it over his shoulder to change the angle and you arch as he hits a new spot inside you.

“Oh my god!” You scream, jaw dropping as he groans above you.

“Fuck, I love this pussy. Never want another one after this,” he says, kissing your thigh beside his head.

“I'm gonna cum again, Seungie please.” You don't even know what you're begging for. 

“Me too baby, fuck where do you want me to cum?”

“Inside,” you plead, “Want it in me.”

Heeseung curses up a storm as you clench around him, milking his cock as he finally cums, with you following right after.

His warm cum fills you up, making your cunt and belly feel full. 

He releases your leg, putting it down as he slowly pulls out.

Heeseung watches his cum drip out of you, before leaning down to kiss you.

You taste yourself on him as he slides his tongue inside your mouth.

The kiss is sweet, slow.

As he pulls away, he leaves kisses all over your face, making you giggle.

“Heeseung, that was amazing. Thank you.”

He smiles, “I was honored to be your first, pretty girl, and hopefully your last?” 

“Do you like me, Lee Heeseung?” You taunt him with a wide smile on your face.

“Maybe I do. Would you be mine if I asked you?”

You nod, “I'd love nothing more.”

After resting for a few minutes, Heeseung gets off the couch, putting his arm under your things while the other finds your shoulders, lifting you up bridal style.

He brings you to the bathroom, getting a warm rag to clean you both up.

“You wanna cuddle? My room or yours?” He asks, holding your face in his hands, using his thumbs to caress your cheeks.

“Yours,” you reply, “I like your room.”

He lifts you again, bringing you to his room, putting one of his shirts on you and bringing you to his bed.

Your head rests on his chest as his arms come to wrap around you. 

“I'd like to take you out on a date tomorrow, I meant what I said about making you mine,” Heeseung whispers into your ear.

“I'd like that,” you respond, lifting your head to give him a kiss on the lips.

note: this is my second time writing smut, my apologies if it's ass 😭 don't hesitate to give constructive criticism! also pls ignore any typos/grammar mistakes and the formatting im too lazy to fix it.

[weremonsterteeth]

Werewolf boyfriend breeding you in your sleep.

The scent of your arousal coaxes him awake, blinking into consciousness with his snout resting atop your head as he softly squeezes your body which his arms have encaged against his. He noses your hair, breathing in deeply.

So fucking good.

You always smell great to him, but something about this is new. His hold around you tightens, pressing you closer to his chest. He doesn’t know when his hips began rutting slightly upwards into you, grinding his bare cock against your ass as it swells from its sheath. His hand seems to move with its own will, trailing down your body until he feels your wetness coating his digits and clinging to his fur. A sleepy, appreciative sigh leaves your parted lips at the contact.

How are you already this wet, little love?

His chest begins to rise and fall heavily, fanning warm huffs of air over your sleeping face. You look so peaceful. Free of this world, your mind was elsewhere and your body was left here with him. His to protect and to care for. His. Before he can think better of it, he’s slipping a finger into you, whimpering at the way your soft warmth takes him in.

You recently confessed your long-held fantasy about a scenario similar to the one currently playing out in your bed. He had asked for a bit of time to get used to the idea and you agreed excitedly, leaning in to tell him he can let you know when he’s ready by having you wake up covered in his cum. He’d sensed your sexual frustration building over the days.

Truthfully, he feels a bit embarrassed by what this is doing to him. Having you pliant and vulnerable to use as he pleases. He always makes sure to be careful with you, putting your pleasure before his own. He knows what it means for you to be with him and he isn’t sure how he would feel if you saw him like this: helplessly driven on by your scent, lapping the juices from his finger with a low growl before sinking it slowly back into your dripping cunt.

Not wanting to wake you, he watches your expression with half-lidded eyes as he pushes another digit into your entrance, carefully stretching you. Your brows turn up and your mouth falls slack, blissed out from whatever you’re dreaming while both his fingers curl up into you. He takes his time, completely hypnotized by the sight of you opening up just for him, taking everything he gives, loving the feeling of your wetness soaking into his fur. Your cunt squeezes around his fingers so sweetly. You nearly send him into an early rut when you start grinding your clit against his palm, easy breaths becoming labored as you unconsciously fuck yourself on his hand.

He can’t help it. He presses every bit of himself to you that he can, lining his dick up at your entrance. He needs more of you, needs to feel you, needs to be closer.

He slowly enters you with his length — inch by tortuous inch — until the knot near the base of his shaft nestles against you.

He tells himself he isn’t going to fuck you like this. It would be too selfish of him. He wants to be so good for you. He wants to see your eyes rolling when he's pounding into that spot that makes your speech slur, wants to tell you how perfect your pussy feels choking his knot and milking him for everything he's worth when he finally lets himself enter you completely.

You stir slightly, hips rolling in languid circles as you sigh contentedly and adjust your position. Just a few small movements have him gripping at the bedsheets and hoping you won't be too upset about having to replace them for a second time this month.

You're moving again, shifting back into him and securing your heat even more tightly against his knot. The friction elicits a loud groan from your lover.

Oh. Fuck.

Even like this, you’re acting so needy for him. Nose trailing up the back of your neck, held flush to the skin, breathing in your overwhelming scent again and again. It’s far too much. He grasps your hips and presses himself into you with a snarl.

Oh god. You smell like his fucking mate. It can't be his rut, the timing is way off. It's you.

Weeks worth of sex spent training you to take his full length and the stretch of his knot, cumming in you over and over to prepare your womb for his pups. As predicted, his little human took some time to adjust to the anatomy of their werewolf partner. However, he wasn’t expecting to be woken in the night by your empty cunt begging to be filled by him.

He has to hold himself back from fucking you awake when you start whining softly at his knot nudging your entrance, growling lowly as your wetness begins to cover the bulge at his base. All resolve dissipates with the realization that you crave him the same way he craves you. You were ready to be bred. To be his.

One arm encircles your middle, cradling you against his chest while the other keeps its  grip on your hip for leverage as he ruts into you. Your soft moans of pleasure intensify as he fucks you in a hurried rhythm.

You start to wake, surrounded by soft fur and dripping over your boyfriend’s cock. He knows he’s getting close when he feels himself throbbing inside of you as you curl your fingers into his fur and say his name with a sleepy, blissful sigh.

You’re so ready to be bred by him. He feels it in the way you clench around his cock, hears it when his knot bullies your entrance with every thrust - smacking and sucking against your wetness.

“Need to breed you. Just need to breed you.” 

He feels your cunt squeeze his cock in response. He cums hard with a brutal thrust, losing himself a bit as he empties his seed into you. A wide tongue leaves several drooling kisses over your cheek as the two of you share the post-sex warmth.

He looks down at his cum starting to spill out of you and whimpers pathetically, rubbing his muzzle along your jaw as you take careful, shaky breaths. You turn your worried gaze over your shoulder, searching for clues as to his distress. He thrusts into you once with a bit of force, panting as his knot pummels into you and rests halfway buried in your cunt.

“Please, I can’t. I-I mean — Fuck, baby I have to make sure it takes.”

Your cries are muffled as he presses you into the pillows and begins lapping at the back of your neck. “My love. My mate,” he pants out between licks, the feeling of his tongue soothing you through the sensation of being stuffed so much fuller than you ever thought you could take. He pulls your ass flush with his body as he forces his knot inside.

“Have to give you my pups. Make you so full.”

He bites down on the back of your neck and holds you there in his teeth as he empties more cum into you, fucking it deep. He needs to pound his cum into you until you’re pregnant, not stopping until he smells the change in your body and every bit of you reeks of him.

He has you cumming hard on his knot, still moving his hips back and forth desperately trying to keep fucking into you despite the snug fit of his knot filling you. His teeth leave your neck, but he doesn’t let up in his movements. He can feel you melting right back into honeyed pleasure when you come down and he wants to keep you right here, fuck you through orgasm after fo taking his cum so well. 

“Such a good little mate.”

Neither of you plan on returning to your dreams anytime soon. And you both agree your mate isn’t stopping even if hours of being bred do end up putting you back to sleep.

[mattluvr]

⋆·˚ ༘ * a pure smut matt sturniolo oneshot !

( switch!matt, riding, praise and slight dumbification if you squint )

matt likes to be in control.

he loves to feel your thighs clenching around his head as he eats you out, making you shake from the pleasure he’s invoking. groaning at the sight of his hands gripping your hips, pushing you back onto his dick as he fucks you from behind.

so when you held up a silk blindfold and asked if you could be in control, you were surprised at how easily matt gave in.

which leads you to now, sinking down onto his cock as he gropes at your body blindly, restrained moans spilling out of his mouth.

“fuck, you feel so good.” he whines, the way you clench around him making his head spin.

you hiss in response, throwing your head back as you bottom out; he also feels so fucking good, dick twitching inside you as you still your movements. you want to drag this out, make the boy beneath you cry out your name as he cums, so you simply lean forward and plant a soft kiss to his lips, giggling at his whimpered response.

“god, i need you so bad. move your hips please, baby.”

you raise your eyebrow; he’s still very much in control, which is not what you agreed to, so to tease him with what he’s missing out on seeing, vision obscured by the blindfold, you lean down and press another kiss to his lips, purposely pushing your hair forward so that it brushes matt’s cheeks. this is one of matt’s favourite things to do with you; stare into your eyes as he makes out with you. so his whine into your mouth is expected, but so hot.

and now he’s getting greedy and impatient, his blind hands gripping your hips harshly, beginning to move you up and down. you stop him almost instantly, however, tutting. “ah, ah. thought i was in control, hm?”

“yea-ah.” matt’s words are interrupted by a guttural moan, his own hips thrusting up into you. “i’m sorry, i’ll be good. just hurry up… please.”

for someone who willingly wanted to be in the submissive position, matt isn’t very good at going through with it. but, as much as you want to prolong the act of teasing, forcing him to cockwarm you, there’s a ball of your own ache and need forming in the pit of your stomach already, and you want to move your hips so badly, just to receive that feeling of pleasure that makes your body ascend.

so you give in, placing your hands on matt’s forearms, pinning them down as you move upwards on his dick. he groans in response, muttering obscenities under his breath, which are only amplified as you slam back down onto him again, the sounds rebounding through matt’s room lewd yet unbelievably hot.

you quicken your pace, whining at the white bliss washing over you; matt’s dick is the perfect length, his tip repeatedly brushing your g spot as you bounce, the boy now a moaning mess beneath you. all signs of his usual dominance are out the window, and just the sight of his trying something new and letting you take the ropes is turning you on even further.

he even begins to buck his hips up into you, driving you crazy, and suddenly you feel bad that he’s missing out on witnessing such a sight. without further thought, you’re leaning down and pulling his blindfold off, the coldness of his eyes making you shudder. but this time his expression is different; instead of the usual crease pulling his eyebrows together out of pure concentration, his features are slack, face pulled down into a constant moan.

he looks even sexier than usual.

then, matt meets your gaze, wriggling his arms free of your grasp, which you decide to let slide as the pleasure his dick provides is clouding all other thoughts, his rough hands resting on your bouncing hips.

“oh, you’re so fucking good for me.” he mumbles, pushing you down as he thrusts up. you’re no longer in control, the lack of blindfold instilling confidence in your boyfriend. “look so pretty when you bounce on my cock, yeah?”

“y-yes matt, fuck.”

matt hums, tweaking one of your nipples with his index finger and thumb. you hate how he’s taken control, but then again you like not having to think so hard. you enjoy the way his dick makes your brain turn to mush.

“you gonna cum for me?” he whispers and you nod, lip clenched between teeth. the pleasure is brewing, threatening to spill. he chuckles. “cum for me then, baby. give it to me.”

and you do, your whole body convulsing as you orgasm. matt is quick behind you, shooting spurts of warm cum into you, the liquid immediately overflowing and leaking out down your leg; as much as matt likes to domineer a sexual scenario, the way you made him moan had clearly turned him on enough to make him cum a shed load. you’re pretty proud of yourself.

as you roll off him, sharing his heavy breaths, you caress his cheek with your hand, smiling. “you like when i’m in control?”

“maybe…” matt shrugs, pulling you into his chest. “but next time i’m blindfolding you.”

“deal.”

[stevieschrodinger]

“I’m just saying it’s manipulative.”

“Manipulative? Eddie you can’t be serious.”

“I am, now, where’s the dish? It’s got to be around here somewhere.”

“Maybe in this box, clearly labelled ‘kitchen’?” Dustin snarks, “and I don’t see how you can say behaving in a way that’s been dictated by your very biology is...manipulative. That’s not fair, man.”

Eddie digs in the box, bringing out the baking dish he wants, and then heads back into the kitchen, swerving around clutter and open boxes as he goes, “yeah, I get that a lot of Omega act the way they do because of what they are, alright. I get that, I do. But all this...kind of, 'oh my oh my, can’t the big Alpha come and save me...I just need looking after and...and protecting'. And I get that it works, a lot of Alphas eat that shit right up, I’m just not one of them.” Eddie bangs around in the kitchen fixing Wayne’s famous corned beef hash casserole, “it’s just not for me, you know? I don’t want someone who’s just going to do as they’re told and roll over on everything, I want someone who is equal, not someone who wants looking after all the time. I will not be loosing my head over any Omega, no matter how pretty they are.”

“So you...wouldn’t look after your Omega?” Dustin squints at him.

“Firstly, not happening, not ever, I’m sticking to Beta’s and that is final...but, I mean, yeah, of course I’d look after my partner, but I’d do that for anyone. I don’t want this hormone driven need to...to I don’t know. It’s just not for me Henderson, okay? Now help me with the books.”

Dustin whines, “but there’s like, fifty million of them...and I still don’t agree that it’s manipulative. They’re just...playing to their strengths, or whatever.”

“Right, so an Omega bats their eyelashes and every Alpha in sniffing distance is falling over themselves to do whatever the Omega wants, and that’s not manipulative?”

“Welllll…no, especially since it only works because of the Alphas in the first place, if it’s anyone fault, it’s the Alphas, right?”

“Fucking...just shut up Henderson.”

Eddie’s just put their plates on the table when there’s a knock at the door, “I’m not waiting,” Dustin sits down and starts shoveling, and Eddie mutters curses all the way to the door, he’s absolutely starving-

“Hi, I am so sorry,” it’s an Omega. A ridiculously pretty one. A very, very pregnant one. “I’m from next door,” the very very pretty Omega is on tip toes, trying to look over Eddie’s shoulder. He’s clutching a plate to his chest, “I know you’ve just moved in and, again, I am so so sorry about this, but is there any chance I could try what you’re cooking? Please?”

He smells so good. Even better than a regular Omega; Eddie’s sure it’s because he’s pupped, probably some biological bullshit about protecting pups and whatever. But still, he’s...he’s cute, standing there with his plate, sniffing after Eddie’s cooking.

“I could smell it in the hall. It could just be the tiniest bit, but I just would really like to try it, I’m so sorry for interrupting your dinner but-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Eddie says, taking the guys plate, “just hang there a second.” Eddie goes and...well, if he fills the plate of what was going to be tomorrows dinner, no one needs to know. Eddie might have opinions on gender, but he’s not a dick. The guy is very pregnant, plus he was being super polite about it. He even brought his own plate.

It’s another human being, pregnant and hungry; Eddie would do the same to help anyone out. This is absolutely nothing to do with the guy being the prettiest Omega Eddie’s ever seen in real life.

Eddie delivers the plate back, “oh my goodness,” oh okay, that’s adorable. Eddie’s pretty sure he’s never heard anyone say ‘oh my goodness’ in real life, like, ever. “Thank you so so much, is there anything I can do? I can contribute to the ingredients or-” and that’s when Eddie figures that not only is the guy very pretty, he’s actually a reasonable human being too, lots of people wouldn’t have even thought about that sort of thing.

“No, we’re good just, ah, let me know what you think.”

“I will, I will,” the guy is saying as he turns to leave, carefully carrying his laden plate. He’s big enough that he’s kind of waddling, and Eddie watches him long enough to see him go into the next apartment along the hall.

Eddie shuts the door, turning back to find Dustin watching him, both eyebrows raised, a very accusatory look on his face, “oh shut the fuck up.”

“Just let me know what you think,” Dustin mimics back, like a little bitch.

Part Two

[lolapiastri]

hands | l. norris

warnings: the smuttiest, horniest smut ever bc i'm feeling some type of way, it's complete filth

author's note: absolutely no excuse for this, i will take myself down the stairs to hell

"fuck," he muttered under his breath, eyes widening as he watched his hands wrap around your throat.

your breathing sped up as your airway was slowly cut off, the cold silver of lando's rings pressing against your throat sending shockwaves straight to your core. your pupils were so large they were almost your whole iris, fixed on your boyfriend's hand through batting eyelashes. you were sat on his lap, thighs either side of his hips, pressed against him as his other hand pushed an escaped strand of hair back behind your ear.

he squeezed harder, causing your breath to hitch as you grinded against lando's crotch involuntarily, causing an attempt at a moan to leave your mouth. desperation and lust were the only things on your mind right now, added to as lando's spare hand cupped your jaw.

his index finger traced over your features, sliding over your cheek before swiping on your lips. you let him do whatever he wanted, pulling on your bottom lip until he could see your teeth. he let out a shallow scoff at how willing you were to please, how you were just taking all this. your hips couldn't stop their sporadic movements, moving in tandem with lando's squeezes against your neck.

"you like being choked, huh?" his tone was degrading, with a half laugh behind it.

he took his index finger and pushed past your lips, pressing down on your tongue as he entered your mouth. tongue wrapping around it without thinking, you began to suck, imagining it was his cock instead.

all lando could do was stare. "acting like a slut, aren't you?"

you whined in response as lando added his middle finger, pushing them right to the back of your throat as you choked around them. that wasn't good enough for lando though, as he tutted at your actions.

"i asked you a question, and i expect you to answer," he stated, giving your neck another tight squeeze. "you're a slut, aren't you?"

you attempted to respond to his question, but your answer was incoherent through lando's fingers, instead just a muffle of sounds.

"what was that?" he asked, teasing tone that caused you to almost cry with frustration, trying to answer him again to no avail. "god, not only are you a slut, you're fucking braindead. a braindead cockslut, only good for sucking dick and nothing else, huh?"

you shook your head frantically, but of course, frantic head shakes and whines were not good enough for your boyfriend.

"quiet down, now," he grunted, and you obeyed, staying silent as he removed his fingers from your mouth and dragged them down your face, holding your mouth opening before leaning over you, and spitting in your mouth.

the act was so dirty, so filthy, yet so indescribably attractive and you swallowed immeadiately, earning a slight smile from your boyfriend before both hands removed themselves from your body. you took deep breaths into your lungs, recovering from the restricted airflow you had been receiving, with your eyes never leaving lando's hands.

you grabbed them with your own, and started placing open mouthed kisses down his fingers, wet and sloppy as your mouthed at his skin. his eyes never left you, and blood shot straight to his core, his length growing underneath you.

"god, you love my hands," it was a statement, really, to himself, but you couldn't help but hum against his skin in agreement. "are you a slut for my hands?"

"yes," you mumbled against his skin, finally following his wishes for the first time that night. "want them inside me, please."

and who would he be to deny you such pleasure.