#it would have hit so good and you can't tell me otherwise

[kittymoonclover]

Blossick was the first ship I liked as a kid. And it also introduced me to whole "enemies to lovers" and the whole opposite attract streets mart x Booksmart debacle. I personally like them but as teenagers.

It kind of sucks that Majority of the Fandom's interpretation of Brick is him being booksmart and not streetsmart. Because Blossick gives me such "English please?" Energy. (The joke where the smart character says something and the dumb character doesn't get it so they ask the smart character to speak "english". To dumb it down in a way they can understand.

Playing Devil's Advocate:

The Fandom tend to think that RRB have the same personalities as their counterparts even though they Don't. If anything they are opposites personality wise.

Brick is rude, aggressive and Brash while Blossom is more cool headed and calm and polite, but Brick still the leader of the rowdyruff boys. He is just a different type of leader. Canon wise, Brick is the most self aware than Boomer and Butch. And Brick is probably in a lot of pressure Just like How Blossom is in alot of pressure in protecting the city.

Brick and Blossom maybe different people but their experiences can be similar to each other. (I mean who says that Boomer and Butch won't cut off Brick's hair one day.)

The most obvious example is Boomubbles. Boomer is airhead but he is also very aggressive, Snippy and considers Bubbles to be weak. He isn't the type to like Cuteness at all. He often times overcompensates for manly. While Bubbles is Sweet and Sugary, Boomer is a lil mean and snippy.

He may be airhead but doesn't mean he is the nicest (if anything he is shown to be the opposites.) But both him Bubbles are in the same roles. Being "youngest" and getting teased by their siblings. Boomer isn't a crybaby, He Broods more than cries.

(But the Fandom just interprets him as bubbles no.2.)

And Butch For some reason people cannot accept the fact he is the least aggressive out of 3. Like come on, Butch is literally only who doesn't hit his brothers. (Muiltiverse doesn't count because it's a mix of canon and headcanon). But if go buy the comics and Episodes from the Canon, You clearly that he isn't aggressive. Him being Buttercup's counterpart does not imply that he is. He is just a goofball who chooses to blindly follow and trust Brick rather than disagree with him like Buttercup does with Blossom.

Butch is a yes man, There isn't much evidence proving otherwise and Butch doesn't hit his brothers. He is actually just chill kid who enjoys the simpler things in life and is a goofball when Brick cues him to be one. (But the Fandom categorize him as unstable because he twitches.)

And it sucks because I think canon Butch and Buttercup would have interesting dynamic. They could learn from each other. But they still have same roles. (Butch is second in command).

They have both differences and similarities to their counterparts.

Brick/Blossom (Personality wise: Opposites) but they are both leaders and smart. I can't believe I'm saying this, But Compare to Boomer and Butch, Brick is the smartest one.

He may not be Booksmart level like Blossom but Brick is very good at reading people hence why he is the only who could tell that Blossom was being sarcastic in episode TBAIT, while Butch and Boomer took the hair comment as a compliment. He was angry because he is the only who could tell they didn't mean it. (Plus he remembered Boomer isn't afraid roaches.)

In the Octi, Episodes, Buttercup was trying to tell Blossom that her plan wasn't working and Blossom just straight up ignores her and suggested new plans. I honestly think Brick would be the opposite of that because there are moments where Brick genuinely compliments Boomer when he has good idea.(one was in bubble boy and the other is in one of the Action Pack comics) showing that Brick may not be as a commanding as he looks.

Bubbles/Boomer - (personality wise: Opposites) Like I said he is just as mean and Aggressive as Brick. And he isn't afraid to speak up. Even though it will get him hit by Brick. Yes, He is airhead but that doesn't mean he is sweet. (But he also gets picked on by his siblings)

Butch/Buttercup - (personality wise : Opposites) Butch is energetic and complains when he is bored. But, He isn't physically aggressive as Buttercup. Butch isn't Buttercup. He is just goofball, Who is more of a yesman to Brick who likes and enjoys the simple things in life. (If anything he is more of a go with flow type guy) . (And is also the second in command)

And that makes color code interesting. Both PPG and RRB are very different in terms of personality. But they have the same roles and experiences. That's the common ground.

They are on the same boat but with different flags.

(Also, I am not trying to convince OP otherwise. I just wanted to share my own opinion of them.

Tbh, When I rejoined the Fandom, I was surprised to find out that Blossick was the most popular. I always they thought they were the least popular XD)

i don’t like blossick

that ship is overrated

[fandoms-are-my-lifestyle]

The one hill I'll die on for YR s3

When Kristina said "it's hard to be your mom and your boss" I really just wanted Wille to say I didn't need you to be my boss I needed you to be my MOM

[suguann]

Possessive!Gojo who makes you wear his jersey when you go to parties at his fraternity after games, openly admiring the way you dwarf inside his clothes. He leans forward on the edge of the bed to get a better look, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes raking over every inch of you from head to toe. 

"Toru, it's too big," you pout, checking out your reflection in the floor-length mirror on his closet door. “I look silly.”

The tent growing in his sweats says otherwise—all the blood in his body rushing from one head to the other just from seeing two things that are his coexisting—and he gives you another once-over, thinking of several ways to describe you, silly not being one of them.

"You’re so pretty, baby.” He swears he’s a little drunk from the sight of you, but he means it.

Possessive!Gojo who pushes you up against the door inside the locker room before a game—slightly jealous from the guys looking at you as they filed out into the hall, and equally turned on because he knows they can’t have you—telling you he can't play with a hard-on before he's pressing into you from behind.

He can feel your tummy quivering under his hand where he holds you close, feels how his cock is carving its way inside of you, and you both moan when he presses down lightly. It makes him dizzy how tight and small you are; pulsing, wet, and swollen-soft velvet that gives every time he buries himself into you.

"You gonna hold all of my cum in this cute cunt until after the game, y-yeah?" he sucks the question into your neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll lick it out of you afterward. Just keep it warm for me, ’kay?”

You answer him with a high-pitched whine as you clench down hard around him, cumming with a muffled scream against his palm and nearly pushing him out of your warm, fluttering heat.

Possessive!Gojo makes sure to stuff his cum back into your drooling cunt with two thick fingers, curling them into your front wall to pull another soft orgasm out of you—just a little more, ah, there you go, always so good for me—before he helps you fix your panties to trap it there.

His arms wrap around you before he presses a tender kiss to your temple. “Don’t forget to cheer for me.”

Possessive!Gojo whose smirk from watching you squirm in the stands, melts into a glare when a guy takes the empty seat beside you, sitting almost too close for his liking.

“Stop staring at your girlfriend and hit the fucking puck already,” Sukuna grumbles, leaning against his stick.

Possessive!Gojo who makes sure to fuck you in the backseat of his car afterward with the windows cracked in hopes that the guy from the stands would walk by to you moaning Gojo’s name, and he eats you out just like he promised—bending you over the center console, smiling to himself at how shy and squirmy you get—only to fill you up again.

Possessive!Gojo who pouts whenever Nanami manages to steal your attention with something sciency and nerdy (something entirely up your alley) whenever you come over on weeknights. 

“That’s so neat, Nanami,” you smile, hearts practically in your eyes as you listen to him talk about his latest research. “Maybe I can stop by the lab and check it out sometime.”

Possessive!Gojo who doesn’t miss the way Nanami’s ears turn a shade of red from your praise—color high in his cheeks—how he gives a sheepish smile whenever you talk to him.

“Toru,” you say, finally bringing your soft, pretty gaze on him again. “Are you even studying?”

Yeah, he is, but something else entirely, he thinks as he watches how your shorts hug your ass while you walk around the house’s common room—and he’s not the only one staring.

Possessive!Gojo who slaps your thigh, making you jolt in his lap. "Did I tell you to stop, huh, baby?"

You shake your head, biting your lip and avoiding the pair of eyes watching both of you (intently) from across the room—especially you—a quiet observer as you slowly sink onto your boyfriend’s cock while Nanami thrusts his own into his fist. 

"Ah, fuck—b-but–"

Your words break off into a choked moan when Gojo thrusts his hips up underneath you, pressed as deep inside as he can get, and when he looks down, he swears he can see the imprint of himself pressing against your stomach. 

"Tell me what I said,” he says through gritted teeth as he starts bouncing you, the couch continuing its steady squeaking under your knees.

Possessive!Gojo who can tell that it's hard for you to concentrate with the way his cock moves inside you, and you’re unable to answer with anything other than babbling nonsense. He decides to take mercy on you and stops to grind you in his lap instead.

He kisses your cheek, your neck, anywhere he can get his mouth on. "I said, don't stop until you cum, and you’re going to let Nanami see how fucking pretty you look when you do."

The next sound out of your mouth is a squeal when he holds your inner thighs to keep you open as he thrusts up into you again and again—letting Nanami see what can never be his.

“That’s it, baby,” he growls. “So good for me. Go on, show him how my good girl takes cock.”

Possessive!Gojo who locks eyes with Nanami just as he’s about to cum, burying his groans of pleasure into your neck as white-hot sparks shudder up his spine and heat pools in his gut.

Mine, he tries to say, but Gojo thinks his frat brother gets it when Gojo’s the one cumming inside you and Nanami’s spilling all over his fist.

Masterlist

[shrimpybbq]

rafe in bed

synopsis: rafe loves his precious girlfriend so so much, but the one thing he loves slightly more is fucking her

i feel like (controversially) when rafe is deeply in love with his partner and in a committed relationship, i don’t think the sex is that rough or kinky

sure, they get down and dirty but there’s always lots of hand holding, and rafe loves the feeling of his girlfriend’s body pressed up against his

rafe likes to feel connected and close to his girlfriend and sex is no different for him

i think he really likes any position where he can see her face, and the expressions that he draws out of her. he loves missionary for that reason, and he’s always nuzzling his face into her neck as he cums

rafe is absolutely obsessed with eye contact - he needs to see how good he makes her feel, and vice versa

if it's not missionary, he probably has his girl on her stomach, his hovering body pressed up against her so tightly she can barely breathe as he hits it from the back, his hips slamming against hers

rafe has stamina and he can easily go two or three rounds in one night, though they’re often interrupted by the sound of their son crying in the nursery, but otherwise that man would go allllll night if he could

when he and high school gf were actually in high school, i picture lots of sneaky sex: think car sex, sex in rafe’s room at tannyhill while everyone else is sleeping, sex in unoccupied classrooms at the academy. they were both so desperate for each other that it didn’t really matter when or where

while I don’t think he’s super kinky, I do think he still loves control, and he loves to exert his power in bed

she can be on top, but only if he’s controlling the movements

delayed gratification and not letting her cum until he tells her to!!

rafe loves affirmations in bed too, needing to be reassured how well he’s doing and how much gf loves him

“Tell me how good I’m making you feel, baby.”

“You wanna cum? Yeah? Beg for it.”

“Look at me - who’s making you feel this good, huh baby? Who? Hmm - me, yeah - I thought so.”

“C’mon baby, you can give me another one.”

rafe is mostly a grunter. he lets out low, strained groans when he feels her warm pussy clench around him, echoing fill the room with each thrust he makes. it’s only when he’s about to cum does he let out a few moans, his voice rising in volume as he tilts his head back

rafe wandering around the house with his shirt off, forgetting about the red scratch marks down his back - he just makes her feel so good she can't help it. he only smirks if anyone comments

after high school gf falls pregnant with charlie, rafe is scared for a bit and uses condoms every time they have sex, but after his son is a little older, i think rafe goes in raw - it's his favourite state and he just feels so close to her. his gf began taking birth control so he feels more comfortable now, and it’s not like he’s sleeping with anyone else

(part of him isn’t opposed to knocking his girl up again either, but he doesn’t say that just yet…)

i think rafe loves to have his girl trapped under him, unable to run away from the pleasure he’s giving her. he likes to cage her in, keeping her pressed against the bed as he thrusts harshly over and over again, her body writhing and wriggling against him. he likes to know he’s making her feel good

sloppy making out as he fucks - nuff said. there's so much tongue its almost embarrassing, but its so so hot (gimme gimme plssssss)

also bathtub sex!

rafe wants to feel wanted, especially in bed

rafe who loves to hold hands as much as possible. eating her out holding hands, entering her holding hands, and most definitely cumming inside of her holding hands. he wants to feel loved, and to him, sex with his person is intimate and important

basically moral of the story is that rafe fucks good, a little nasty sometimes, but so good

[tokiiwonz]

best friend anton thoughts

tw: jealous anton, car sex, unprotected sex (don't), exhibitionism, allusions to manipulation, infidelity xD, eunseok was punched (i'm so sorry)

thinking about best friend!anton walking in on you touching yourself while moaning his name ♡ like damn, you just can't help yourself; you grew up together, laughed with each other, even cried with each other—you're not going to just let any other person have their way with your man, not by any chance and fortunately for you, anton thinks the same

best friend!anton who knows you have feelings for him and decided to get a girlfriend for himself just to mess with your head. he swears it's nothing romantic, and that he just wants to see you get jealous over someone else.

best friend!anton who gets mad jealous after finding out that you're in a relationship with someone in his friend group. he's known for being usually a chill laid-back type of guy but the moment the news broke out, he didn't hesitate to punch eunseok for taking what's supposed to be his.

best friend!anton who recklessly drags you to his car before roughly kissing you in the backseat. he never thought that his silly little plan would backfire at him, and to him, it's all your fault. you need to be put to your place for getting back at him.

he never hid his liking for your strawberry-flavored chapstick. one could argue that he has used more of your chapstick than you did, and he never imagined how good it would taste when he's tasting it on your lips.

best friend!anton who is a shameless manwhore. given everything that had happened, he takes his phone out before recording you both making out in his car. a documentation, at least according to him. he shows off how he makes your pretty lips bleed with the way he bites it; all swollen and needy for whatever he's about to give you, taking lots of pictures and clips of all the hickeys and bite marks he left before sending it to their group chat.

best friend!anton who has you bouncing on his lap, tearing up as you struggle to take his fat cock. god, he loves the way you cry for some dick. no ones supposed to make you cry like this but him, and as he was thinking that, he couldn't help himself but to clench his jaw and drag his cock deeper into your warmth.

you felt so full, on a high if you will, having his cock bulging your stomach with every thrust. it doesn't help you much that you could feel him drag every inch of his cock deeper and deeper. neither did having you wrapped so tightly around him helped anton—he feels so lightheaded with how tight and small you feel against him—he’s got you all stuffed up, soaked and quivering, riding him as he hits the softest spot inside you.

anton has always taken pride in his work, and your vulnerability under his control right now has only fed his already-big ego.

he's shameless on where he puts his kiss marks on; on your cheeks, neck, shoulders, anywhere he finds enticing, really. “i didn't say stop, did i? i said don't you fucking dare stop riding this fat cock. you're going to show & tell eunseok who fucks you this good.”

and before you could even give a proper response, a whimper escaped your lips as you felt anton’s harsh thrusts up into you repeatedly. he hit your prostate in many ways he could—your toes curled up as anton let everyone hear your moans.

“thaaat’s it, doll,” he groaned as he throws his head back in pleasure. “riding so good for me. go make a show, show how my pretty boy rides tonnie's cock.”

best friend!anton who likes to humiliate and make you feel small ♡. rumors has it that it's hard to deal with a mad anton due to how annoying he could be, but you think otherwise. you're very much willing to do everything to get his hands all over your body, even if it means to anger this mad man (which pretty much explains how poor eunseok was dragged into this mess)

"who told you to act like some kind of street whore, hm? i'm giving you just enough attention, aren't i? am i not enough for you to get a boyfriend? fuckass slut.”

best friend!anton who's temperamental. one moment he's splitting your hole open, the next he's making you his pillow prince (it counts, even if you're at the back of his car). he's just so obsessed with messing with your head even when he's fucking you—he wants you to be dependent on him, because you're his and his only ♡ kiss your forehead while his hands were wrapped around your neck? you got it. making you cry with his thick cock while cuddling you? you got it.

anton may seem like some kind of playboy, even a fuckboy, to other people, but he has never slept with anyone but you. his cum stained fleshlights and self clips were his testaments. he just loves you so much, ok? ♡

"got what you needed, doll face? a good dick down from me? yeah, that's it... anyway, wanna come over later?” he pecked your lips as he cummed inside you and smiled. “keep my cum inside you, alright? i’ll eat you out later when we get home.” you giggled as he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead before preparing to drive.

[mind-intheclouds342]

Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly (Mouthwash)

Part 1

(This gonna be a mini serie)

"What do you mean I can't see him? It's my husband we're talking about."

You crossed your arms but tried to maintain a relaxed posture, you didn't want to get defensive, you knew well that Anya wasn't the one to blame, you were just too anxious after that crash.

Anya: "I'm so sorry (Y/n), but the captain himself has told me that he doesn't want you to see him... He doesn't feel capable of seeing you in the state he is"

"Oh, I understand now. But you know that if he is incapacitated to perform his tasks and give instructions, then that makes me the captain."

You said firmly, putting your hands on your waist and puffing your chest, making the woman feeling so little. 

Anya: "I know, but he... Give him time, please... He is in pain."

"Anya please- it's been a week already. I need to see him" 

You ran your hand over your face, pressing your brow for a few seconds, trying to relax. 

You had been working with Curly as her co-captain for years, and less than a year ago, you had even gotten married.

Many questioned your position since they said that in case you had to be promoted to captain if something happened to Curly, your judgment would be influenced by your husband. 

You weren't going to give them rigth to keep saying that. You worked too hard for that and you now that the situation has come up you will show them.

"You are right, the captain's last orders must be respected, but please, tell me if at any moment he feel ready to see me." 

You took the woman's hands firmly, almost pleadingly, to which she nodded. 

You needed to stay calm to keep everything in order on the ship. 

"The cockpit is completely destroyed... the corridor to it was automatically sealed with safety foam so that space wouldn't absorb us, we are floating aimlessly, and we don't have a radio to call for rescue..."

You murmured while attentively examining the ship's blueprints along with Swansea and Daisuke. 

"Are the suits still available?" 

Swansea: "The room where they are stored has foam that has sealed the door, but it is not a very thick layer."

"Then I'll use one and exit through the hatch to check the cockpit damage, maybe there's something that can still work."

Daisuke: "Woah... The covkpit was blown up... It's a miracle that the explosion allowed the captain to reach the corridor before it was sealed with foam, otherwise he would be floating in the-"

He fell silent when he saw Swansea's look, gesturing towards you. 

"Yes... the truth is that it was a miracle that he's still alive, I'm grateful for it... Let's stick to the plan."

You stood up, ready to go to the room where the spacesuits were.

At that moment, Swansea took the opportunity to hit Daisuke on the head. 

After managing to get in and take the suit, you headed to the exit room, equipped yourself before leaving through the hatch. 

You observed in detail the void around you, a dark sea full of stars and debris floating around you. 

You held on to the ship, trying to reach the cockpit.

Swansea: "(T/n), can you hear me? Can you see anything?"

You smiled upon realizing that the suit communicator was intact, happy to feel that you weren't alone on that walk. 

"Loud and clear Swansea, I'm approaching the cockpit, the foam has spread outside the ship, it seems that it has prevented the fire from spreading."

You responded and went down to the cockpit, there was almost nothing, the only thing found there was the floor and half of the control panel. 

You sighed in resignation upon seeing that there was nothing salvageable left, everything too broken and burned. 

Until you got scared when something hit your helmet. 

Swansea: "All good?? Your pulse has accelerated too much."

"Yeah... I'm sorry... Something scared me."

You mentioned seeing Curly's ring floating near you, and soon you took it before it drifted away and kept it. 

You returned to the ship and took off the suit, and upon seeing Swansea, you shook your head, assuring him that there was nothing there that you can use to get out of there.  

Daisuke: "How did it feel to be in space??"

Swansea: "Child!"

"No, no, it's fine Swansea," you raised your hand, interrupting the man before he could scold the boy. "You never get used to that feeling, I've gone out many times for different reasons but each one is unique."

Daisuke: "Did you see an alien?? Was that what scared you?"

"Oh yeah, it had enormous eyes and tentacles on its arms, giant and ponty teeth, ready to devour interns!"

You and Swansea started laughing when Daisuke hid behind the older one. 

When they stopped laughing, you looked at both of them with a smile. 

"We're going to find a way out of here, I promise you." 

Swansea: "Sure, captain," he nodded at your words. 

It felt so strange to finally be called that way, but you maintained your stance, nodding and leaving that place to head to the reserve depot. 

You started organizing the remaining food supplies, it seemed like they were going to have to ration a bit, so you began separating and counting everything to maintain an inventory. 

You locked the storage room with a key so there wouldn't be any food thefts. 

You rested your head against the door and sighed. 

You searched in your pocket and took out the ring you had found, noticing how it was slightly deformed by the heat and cold it had been exposed to, but it still retained its circular shape. 

You placed it on your ring finger, next to your wedding ring.

You were sure that his ring was way bigger than yours, but the explosion for sure make it smaller now for you to use it.

After looking at it for a while, you pressed your lips against the two rings. 

"We're going to get through this, no matter what it costs me."

[lowkeyerror]

Help With The Curriculum pt3

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Notes: Smut, Strap-on sex, throat fucking with strap, cunnulingus, dirty talk, one failed attempt of face slapping, dacryphilia, praise, degradation, let me know if I forgot something, kind of fluff end, professor!Agatha Professor!Reader

Summary: Agatha gets rewarded for the way she behaved for you earlier today. It's everything that both of you could want and maybe more.

An: Your honor its filth. Can't believe a month ago I was questioning if I'd ever write smut again... now we at 3 in a row. Also, Chat tell me how we feel about face slapping for next time... 🫣

Previous part | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Something about class seems to drag on after the encounters you had today. You were lucky that it was only a review day otherwise you were pretty sure you’d be fucking up the new material.

When your last class is over, you walk out with the students. You send out a quick email saying that there would be no office hours today on the way to your car.

As soon as you get home you begin cleaning up. You aren't necessarily a junkie individual, things just get cluttered sometimes. It takes no time to turn the clutter into a cleaned and presentable space.

You decide to cook for the two of you. You aren’t sure if it’d be before or after the sex but you knew that you’d be starving at some point. You shower and change into something more appropriate for the home, the suit starting to feel out of place now that you're alone.

The only remnant of your workday is the strap-on that you opt to keep for Agatha’s sake. She seemed to be just dripping at the thought of you wearing it.

It's nothing super fancy when you’re in the kitchen. You feel that pasta is good enough and pairing it with a nice wine will make it appear better than it really is.

You’re nearly done when the doorbell rings. You wipe your hands on your apron and head to the door. As expected, Agatha stands on your front porch.

“Well don’t you look good enough to eat,” she playfully teases, noticing the apron you’re sporting.

“All part of the plan,” you say letting her in.

“Whatever it is smells like heaven,” she replies, as the aroma hits her.

You get a little shy at her praise, “It’s almost done. I figured we’d get hungry at some point. So it made sense to have something ready.”

Agatha follows you to the kitchen and watches you silently as you finish up the meal. You can feel her eyes watching your every movement almost as if she would miss something if she blinked.

“Ok, food’s ready, but this is your reward so, tell me; are we having dinner first or do we need to work up our appetite?”

“The food can wait, I need you now.”

You make simple actions of taking your apron off and washing your hands. You follow them up by grabbing Agatha’s hand and leading her to your bedroom.

Once in the room you drop her hand, leaving her standing in the middle of the room. You continue on, until you’re sitting on the bed. Your legs are spread wide just like in her lecture. The palms of your hands are face down on the bed and your head is cocked to the side a little.

“So, what kind of reward did you have in mind, Ags? You want the control? You want me to be in control? I want to give you everything you need,” you keep eye contact with her as you speak.

Her eyes drop to scale your body, “Do you remember some of things you told me Friday or was your head to fuzzy from having my fingers inside of you?”

You smile slyly, “Remind me, professor.”

She takes a few steps closer to you, “I recall there was something about me riding you.”

She doesn’t hesitate to climb on to your waist. Agatha flips her hair to one side. Your hands come up to hold her in place.

“You want to start there?” You lick your lips as you peer up to her.

“Could you last, if we started there baby?” She rests her forehead against yours.

Your breath hitches as it mingles with hers, “Yes professor.”

You try to close the gap to kiss her, but Agatha moves back. Her eyes twinkle at the confusion on your face.

“Beg for me,” Agatha says.

Internally you want to challenge her, but you also recognize that you put the ball in her court. This is her reward and if she wants to be dominant, you’d let her. You saw some shades of it on Friday, but you wonder just how dominant she could be. Especially having dealt with someone like Rio. The potential of it all excited you.

“Professor please, I need to kiss you. To feel you. Your lips on my lips, your skin on my skin. I need to see you ride me, please,” your eyes are hooded as you speak to her.

Agatha surges forward placing her lips against yours. Her pace is teasing, it gets your heart rate up fairly quickly. It’s as if she’s slowly devouring you. Her tongue slips into your mouth and you suck on it, enthralled with the sensation.

Your hands climb under her shirt unable to resist the need to feel her skin properly. It’s more familiar than the first time and you move more certainly. You expect meet the fabric of her bra, but you gasp lightly into the kiss when you realize she’s not wearing one.

The palms of your hands are tentative as they massage her breast. Her back arches and she moans deeply into your mouth. This kiss breaks just enough for you both to slide your shirts off. The space doesn’t last long before she’s pulling you back to her lips.

You follow her lead as the kiss becomes sloppier as you both begin to fight for air. The moans become guttural, nearly primal as there is an unwillingness to part.

“I don’t ever want your hands to stop touching me,” Agatha breathes out as she begins pushing your back flat onto the bed.

Her hands are steady as she pulls your pants down your legs. You don’t take your eyes off of her when the strap springs free. She’s hovering over you before you can reply to her.

You can see strings of her glory hanging from her cunt. The sight is mouthwatering, you want her to sit on your face, but she has different plans. She swipes through her folds, gathering her wetness before rubbing it on the cock.

“Please,” you feel yourself becoming needier by the second.

She smirks as she sinks down onto you. The weight of her in your lap, the newly added pressure against your clit, the friction you were getting from the harness. It’s all just so fucking hot.

Agatha’s hands dig into your abdomen as she gets acclimated with the feeling of you inside of her. Her eyes are closed and her head is thrown back. You are mesmerized just by watching the cock disappear into her. The small sheen that began to highlight her forehead was getting to you.

Your hands rest somewhere on her lower back threatening to grab her ass and push her all the way down.

Slowly, she begins to rise up and drop back down into your lap. The movements are torturous at first. You could feel yourself getting a little restless. Yet, you waited patiently for Agatha to find her bearings.

“Fuck, you fill me up so good baby,” she whines out as her movements begin to speed up.

“Let me make you feel good, professor,” you state with a plea in your voice.

Her eyes lock onto yours and she nods, “Fuck me “

That’s all it takes for your hands to travel down to her ass and squeeze firmly. You keep her in place and start snapping your hips up to bury yourself inside of her. Your movements start off tame, but you soon find yourself unable to hold back.

You start fucking her quickly and just like in your fantasy. She reaches out to steady herself by grabbing your shoulders. Her nails dig into your skin, but it’s all a blur as the sound of your skin hitting takes precedent in the room. The only other sound is Agatha’s creamy pussy, damn near gushing all over the fake cock.

“You were so good for me in class, professor. Taking what I gave you, with hardly any complaints. If I would’ve pulled this out in class, we’d both would’ve canceling all courses for the day. I wanted to see you open up for me on that desk more than anything. I thought about it all day.”

You keep up the speed, stamina not being an issue for you. Nothing would be stopping you from making Agatha feel good.

“I need, more-"

Your body reacts faster than your brain and you grab a fistful of her hair. You wrap it around your knuckles, pulling her down while simultaneously sitting up. You smash your lips against her’s harshly. Right when you’re both getting lost in movement you yank her hair away from you. You place hot opened mouth kisses on her neck, bucking the best that you can.

Her nails claw at your back as the new position pushes the dildo further into her. Your teeth sink into her collarbone. She’s taken aback as you pick her up. You carry her over to a bedroom wall and place her back against it. Her legs instinctively wrap around your body.

“Fuck yourself on my cock,” your head rests on the wall next to her.

She follows your orders with loud whine. She’s close, you can tell by her erratic movements. You begin whispering in her ear.

“I can almost feel your walls clenching against me, ready to milk this cock as if it were real. I’m surprised it’s still in you, professor. I bet they could hear your wet cunt from down the street. So eager to be fucked out hmm? Got tired of taming brats, needed someone to give you what you need for once.���

Her arms try to pull you closer, but you’re as close as you can be to her, “Fuck yes, yes, I needed to be fucked out. Needed your cock inside me. Can I cum, please? I need to-”

“You can cum whenever you want baby, it’s a reward.”

She cums hard, moaning huskily in your ear. You help her slowly ride it out. Her head slumps against your shoulder.

“You done, love?” You ask her softly.

You feel her shake her head ‘no' against your shoulder.

You laugh a bit, “Can you stand?”

Wordless she removes the toy from inside of her, then carefully unhooks her legs from around you. Her legs shake as her feet touch the floor. You keep your hands on her in case her legs do give up.

“Gagging on you until I get teary eyed,” with much effort she lifts her head to meet your eyes.

“You think you can handle that?” You ask her, not in a condescending way, but with genuine care.

She answers you by moving to kneel on your floor. Her hands sit on the back of your thighs. She looks up at you through her eyelashes.

“I want it,” Agatha bounces on her heels.

“You can have it baby. You tap me once to let me know you’re ok and twice if we need to stop, alright?”

Agatha nods eagerly. You smile at her, grabbing her hair once again. You take a moment to appreciate the imagery in front of you.

“Fuck, I wish you could see how you look for me. I’ll get a mirror so you can see how you look when I fuck you. Open your mouth for me pretty girl.”

She obeys and you push the toy into her mouth. Her lips suction around it, and she begins to bob her head the length the attachment.

You’re becoming addicted to the image alone. Knowing that just a few minutes ago the toy had been inside of her, it was coated in her essence; and now it’s down her throat. You let out a low hum of approval at the thought of her tasting herself.

You reposition her a bit so you can plant your hands against the wall, to get some leverage. She opens her mouth wider anticipating what is going to happen next.

You make a few testing strokes, figuring out just how deep you could go into Agatha’s throat. She could take it pretty good, you made a mental note to get something a little bigger for next time.

“Eyes on me, I want to see you cry,” you say to her, before thrusting into her mouth.

Per your orders she maintains eye contact with you. You hold both sides of her head, guiding her roughly. Hearing the sounds coming from her throat, turned you on even more. The gagging, the sound of toy hitting her throat, the gargling of her spit. Drool was beginning to fall down her chin.

“You like it when I use your throat?” You ask her, she taps the back of your thigh to answer. “Good, me too.”

She moves one of her hands from the back of her thighs to hold one yours that was against her face. You look at her curiously. She moves the hand and then places it back on her face.

“You want me to slap you?”

She put the hand back under your thigh and taps once. Your eyes roll back at the thought.

“You’re such a fucking dirty whore,” you say, pushing her head down to your crotch and holding it there.

She gags, but you keep her there for a few seconds. When you let go, she comes fully off of the toy and that’s when you slap her lightly. Not in a harsh way, but teasingly.

Instead of pulling her up, you get on your knees too. You look into her teary eyes before lightly gripping her chin.

“You’re so pretty when you cry for me Agatha,” your thumb pulls at her bottom lip for a split second before you place your lips on hers. You can taste her through the kiss, evoking a raw moan from you.

You can feel her undoing your harness as you kiss. When it’s off, her fingers walk down your abdomen and go straight for your clit. It was swollen and sensitive due to all of the friction.

You whimper into her mouth as her fingers circle your clit.

“Lay down,” she whispers against your lips.

You follow her instructions, she climbs on top of you. Her face is aligned with your pussy, while her’s was in your face.

“If your tongue touches my cunt, I might just explode,” you tell her truthfully.

It’s finally her turn to laugh tonight, “I look forward to it.”

She submerges her face into your cunt. Your back arches off of the floor, placing your face right into her pussy. You wrap your arms securely over her ass. Your tongues swipes through her folds mercilessly. Not a care in the world as your nose inhales her intoxicating aroma.

The only thing pulling you out of your focus is the pleasure you feel from Agatha. You can tell she’s teasing you with her broad, deliberately relaxed licks. It’s when she latches onto your clit that you begin to crumble.

You try to form a coherent sentence, but you fail. Instead you let out labored breaths against Agatha’s pussy. She increases the force that she sucks your clit with, causing you to do the same to her. Both of you cum, within a minute or two of each other.

Her name the only thing falling from her lips. You don’t know how many times it tumbles out of your mouth. It’s the only word you can seem to remember. She places tiny kisses on your cunt and the sides of your thighs.

You turn her around so that you can kiss her again. This kiss much more innocent than any that you had shared that night. You wipe at the tear stains on her cheeks. She laughs at the quick contrast in your behavior.

“Agatha,” still the only word you can manage to say.

She smirks, “You’re adorable.”

You look away from before mumbling, “I fucked your brains out.”

Her nails scratch softly against the middle of your chest. She kisses your collarbone, “And I loved it. I do wish you’d have slapped me a little harder.”

“Hey I compromised, I didn’t know you were going to ask me to do that,” You defended your actions.

“No face-slapping?” Agatha asks not judging.

You shake your head, “It’s not something I’m used to, didn’t want to hurt you. If you like it, I want to learn how to do it safely.”

Agatha kisses your cheek, “You’re something else, sweetheart.”

You sit in silence for a few minutes. After you get yourself to your feet, you help Agatha.

“So, shower, food, and cuddles?”

She smiles softly, “Like last time.”

You nod kissing the top of her head, “If it ain’t broke, no need to fix it.”

After your shower, you find yourselves eating plates of pasta, on your couch. You scroll through Netflix trying to find something to watch. You settle on Arcane.

“I didn’t expect you to mention Rio, if I’m being honest. Jealousy is kind of hot on you,” Agatha looks at you.

“I’m not jealous,” you refute.

She quirks an eyebrow, “Oh really?”

You cross your arms over your chest, “She’s just a brat. We will straighten her out.”

“We?”

You nod curtly, “I could tell by your tone that you wanted her earlier.”

“She was all over you,” Agatha gets defensive this time.

“And I bet you liked the way it looked,” you toss back at her.

She sighs, “Rio, is so infuriating. She likes games, the chase, being broken, she gets off on it. It can drive you crazy in a good way and a bad way.”

You scoot closer to her, “Don’t worry, brat tamer of the year is on the case.”

She laughs, “Fine, but whatever happens… I like what we have. More than just the sex. I like these parts, the tv, the sharing meals, the cuddling. I know we’re moving at super gay speed, but I just thought I’d let you know it’s just more than physical for me.”

You let your head fall on her shoulder, “Me too.”

Now it’s her kissing the top of your head. Her arm wraps around you, pulling you flush against her. You let of a sigh of content, comfortable with Agatha.

Things were moving fast, but for some reason it felt well-paced. The chemistry between you and Agatha felt oddly familiar. The nerves were almost nowhere to be found. It was as if you had casually come across a missing piece of you. For some reason the fiery, disobedient, irritating presences of Rio Vidal pulled you a similar way. Maybe, she was another piece to the puzzle, something that you’d figure out in time.

Next part

[daenysx]

hiiii I’m not sure if you take nsfw requests but I was thinking about if modern aemond’s gf was too stressed that it was taking longer for her to finish and she fakes her climax, how aemond would react? If you don’t do nsfw just maybe something similar where she is so stressed but won’t communicate it and his reaction when she hides it from him?

soft!aemond is back!! i mean kind of lol. i really hope you like this, i'm taking nsfw requests if you have any, thank you for requesting! <333 (title is from a lana del rey song, the pics aren't mine i got them from pinterest)

wc: 2.9k

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, smut ♡ (also fluff, tiny tiny bit of angst?)

burning desire

aemond is in a good mood this evening.

the summer rain hits the window, you kiss your boyfriend to the sound of rain. aemond's body is a nice weight against your body. he kisses you calmly, long fingers rub the soft skin of your waist.

your head is full of things these days. you try to stop overthinking, you're unable to sleep at nights, mindlessly scrolling your phone for hours just because you can't solve any problems. there's not much to solve, not really, you only have to wait to settle down with everything that keeps your mind busy. it's not so easy, though, you're impatient, sometimes eager to doubt yourself and every little decision you made. the stress weighs down on you. you focus on aemond's lips instead.

he's been out of town for the past week. now, he's on your bed with you laying under him. he doesn't say how much he missed you but the kisses are the proof of it. he makes little sounds, doesn't stop until you are desperate for breathing. he looks at you through a hazy eye, his pretty lips swollen and pinkish.

"i missed you." you mumble. "it's hard to deal with things without you."

aemond looks at you with an unreadable expression. you think he likes what you say, he enjoys how much you want him with you. he smiles slyly, fucking attractive, he's gonna test all your patience.

he holds the back of your neck without saying anything, fingers curled in your hair to pull your head back. your entire neck is exposed, you moan when he presses his lips on your pulse point. he gives you a big kiss, the kind of kiss you could lose your mind over. he doesn't leave a mark but it's still nice. his lips draw a line on your collarbone.

"i missed you, too." he says, quietly. "pretty girl."

his fingers play with the waistband of your shorts. the sound of thunderstorm is louder when you're both quiet. aemond pushes your tank top to your breasts, he kisses your belly. you push yourself against his mouth, feeling him loving on you is so nice. he plays with you until you arch your back, you look at him with widened eyes.

"please." you say. he kisses your hipbone.

"gotta tell me what you want." he says. "you know you won't get it otherwise."

his devilish smirk makes your thighs clench. you take a deep breath, your mind feels like it's full of empty bubbles. his touch is cool against your bare skin, he rubs the back of your thighs with his huge hands.

"i'm waiting." he says, gets on his knees on bed. "tell me."

you lift your hips to show what you want. "can you take it off?" you ask. you take your tank top off without asking him. his eye shines when he sees your bare chest.

"of course." he tells you, his fingers move on your shorts. "such a nice girl."

you get more and more impatient with each second. aemond takes off his shirt, your hands touch all the way on his chest to his happy trail. his hipbones are sharp against the fabric of his pants, your breathing quickens to the image of his defined muscles. you can see the outline of his half hard cock, aemond tilts his head back and groans when you touch him through his pants.

"wait." he says. "i'm not gonna last if you keep touching me like that."

you just squeeze him gently one last time. "you didn't even take your clothes off." you say cheekily. "i wanna touch you without them." you whisper.

aemond smiles. it's a perfect smile, his lips curved because of your obvious desire. he sees how hard your nipples get with chilly air of the room, your panties getting wetter as you touch him, your eyes have the look of want and something different in them. he is quick to get rid of his clothes as you wish. you don't move until he gets back on top of you, only the thin fabric of your panties separates you from his cock.

he kisses you for a good minute. you cup his cheeks, happy to hide from the world with his long hair falling around your face. he presses himself to your center, it feels different than it used to. you don't know the reason, maybe you missed him too much, maybe your body tries to remember how his touch affects you. he's more patient than you, even though it's clear how much he needs to release.

"aemond." you mumble, wrapping your legs around his waist at the same time.

"hmm?" he sucks your jawline softly. he's so pretty, you think you'll lose your mind.

"i feel like-" you start, unable to finish any thought. your mind is too full these days. "can you please do something?"

you press yourself harder against him with the last piece of strength you could find. aemond pushes your panties aside. your cunt glints with the wetness but he still wants to prepare you. "it's okay." he reassures you. your eyes are closed, like you're trying to focus. "you just gotta be patient for me, okay?"

you nod. aemond thinks you might be the sweetest thing in his world. he pushes a finger inside you gently with his thumb on your clit. you moan silently, your body needs to relieve the tension, it keeps you awake every night. aemond moves his finger slowly, getting as many sounds from you as he can to guide himself. you part your legs for him, he settles down.

you feel like you're lost in the feelings he gives you. it's weird for a second then it's not. he pushes a second finger in, the stretch is tight but he likes it very much when you clench around him. "aemond, hmm-" you make incoherent sounds. you hold his face to kiss him as his fingers work inside you.

"do you feel good?" he asks. "is it good, baby?"

fuck, you love it so much when he calls you baby. you nod, saying yes three times. his touch is fire, you don't escape. he is hard against your leg, so hard, so bold. you moan again, your brain goes through a haze.

aemond keeps fingering you, his thumb rubs your clit with circles. the touch is nice to feel, you tilt your head back when it gets unbearable. he smiles wickedly as you keep saying his name. you look like you're lost in him.

"are you gonna come for me?" he asks with slow words against your ear. you think you will. "gonna be my nice girl and come around my fingers?"

his words feel wonderful and for a second you really believe you'll come against his hand. you try to open your eyes, aemond keeps moving his fingers quicker. you think you need to push yourself against him to make your body relax. it'll work. it always does.

but then it doesn't. your body doesn't relax, it's still too tense, too tight. you make a sound as if you're coming, aemond's eye is closed. you don't know why it happens, you feel like somethin's wrong. it's never happened before. your voice is too real to him, for a second he actually believes you orgasmed. you don't say anything.

it feels like you'll disappoint him if you say it was fake. you didn't do it on purpose and your body surprised even you, you faked an orgasm for the first time with aemond. you feel upset for a moment, his fingers get still inside you. you put your poor body on bed, quit arching your back. your mind places walls between you and your pleasure.

your boyfriend opens his eye to your tired face. he pulls his fingers, giving you a smile. he's still undeniably hard but he doesn't move, waiting for you to say something.

"what-" he begins, you reach for his hand. "are you okay?"

you think he'll be upset to find out you faked your pleasure. he definitely would understand if you tell him but you still feel tired. you feel hungry for his touch, hungry for a piece of relief. you don't know how to control your mind, how to ease off your worries and all the stress you've been carrying.

"i'm okay." you say. you squeeze his fingers.

"i don't believe it." he says, sitting on bed. "you don't look okay, did i- did i hurt you?"

you shake your head quickly. "no, of course not. i would tell you, you know it."

"then what?" he asks. he pushes his hair back. "you never look like this after you come, i'm sure of it. you should tell me if something's wrong."

you force yourself to sit next to him. your hand is still holding his. "nothing's wrong." you begin, trying to find words. "it's just-"

aemond holds your cheek in his hand. "tell me." he demands softly.

"i was sure, i was gonna finish." you say. it's the truth. "but i couldn't, not really. i mean it felt good but-"

"you didn't finish." he completes. "but you sounded like-"

"i didn't mean to fake it, i promise." you say. "i thought it would be okay, like it always is but- it didn't, but i'd never fake it with you."

aemond's face is strange, like he's embarrassed. he's thinking. is it his fault? did he fail to take care of you? did you need to fake it to finish early? he likes giving you pleasure, he likes giving what you ask of him. he knows you trust him enough to let him take care of you, and he likes it so much when you take care of him. the bond between you two is something precious, it upsets him to see you unsure and sad about it.

"i should've prepared you better." he says. "maybe you weren't ready. i was fast."

"no." you say, kissing his cheek to get closer. "it's probably because i'm too much in my head these days. it's nothing to do with you, baby, you know stress can have these kind of effects."

"what's bothering you?" aemond asks gently. "why are you so stressed?"

"i don't know." you answer honestly. "i really don't. it's too many things about the school and other stuff, and you weren't here. it's easy to get lost in problems when you're not around."

he pulls you to his lap. rain hits harder on windows. "you know- you know you can tell me anything. i'd never force you to have sex with me if you're not in the mood. if i'd known-"

"no!" you stop him. it's far from what happened and this time he gets in his head. "i wanted it so much. i still want it, aemond, i promise. i need you, i need to relax. i just don't know how to do it- how to get out of my head."

"do you still want it?" he asks, just to be sure. "do you want me to make you come?"

you nod, taking a breath to relax the tension on your shoulders. "please."

"i can talk you through it." he says, putting your body on bed under him. "if you can only focus on my voice and nothing else, i can help you relax."

"but what if i-"

"it's okay if you can't finish." he interrupts you. "don't go hard on yourself. you just gotta tell me when it does and doesn't feel good."

"okay." you say, desperate to feel his hands all over you again. it feels good to ask for his help.

"good." he says, with a deep voice. "i'll make you feel better." he promises.

your head goes back to let him kiss your neck, he kisses the same spots as he did minutes ago. you hold his hand, it doesn't take too much for him to get hard again. it's been a week since you last had sex. aemond doesn't like touching himself without you ever since you first made him come. it's addicting to feel your softness against his cock, he feels poorly when he tries to do it himself.

"i need it." you say, numbly. "please."

he holds your waist, kissing the top of your cunt softly. "trust me." he says. "don't worry."

he kisses your swollen clit. it aches with want, you want to have him so much, it hurts your head. he sucks to relieve a bit of tension. "yes." you whisper. "more, please."

he sucks for a nice minute. you part your legs, your wetness mixes with his spit. he's never been ashamed with his intentions but he feels bolder this time. pressing his cock to soft bed under him, he grunts against your cunt.

"i can't take it." you cry. "you need to do something, i feel like i'm losing my mind."

he kisses your belly. "sweetheart." he speaks softer than he ever does. "you're not losing your mind. you just need to be patient with yourself."

you feel a teardrop roll on your cheek out of pleasure. "okay." you say, pulling him back on his spot between your legs.

when he's sure you're wet enough, aemond strokes his cock. the tip of it is dark pink, so sensitive, so needy. he knows he'll feel good when he gets inside of you, he rubs himself nicely before placing himself properly against your hole.

"are you okay?" he asks against your ear. you nod, he relaxes. his back arching towards you gracefully, his cock finally getting what it wants as he pushes himself inside slowly.

you moan, tilting your head back. it's so sweet, you sound wet when he pushes a bit more. he moves his hips carefully, grunts softly when he can breathe against your chest.

"you feel so good, you know that?" he asks, almost begging. "i missed having you like this, all mine, all needy for me."

"i missed you, too." you cry out. the pleasure is blinding when he presses his fingers on your wet clit. "i missed you so much." you hug him, it's more intimate than it ever has been. rain sounds cover your little whispers, you kiss the skin beneath his ear.

"never gonna leave you again." he promises. he keeps moving, pushing himself fully inside. "never gonna leave you lost in your pretty head."

"please." you say. "please, baby, help."

you're too sweet on him, calling him baby when he's desperate to get you come. he feels himself getting closer to his peak but that's not his priority right now.

he hits your g-spot for the first time that evening and you moan loudly. he smiles, kissing your forehead. "relax." he says. "i got you."

"right there." you mumble. "so- so good."

he moves gracefully, hitting the same spot over and over again, his stamina helps him delaying his own climax. you're all spread out under him, he sucks one of your nipples when your chest gets heavy with deep breaths. he holds your hands on top of your head, fucking into you sweetly with hard motions.

"i can feel it." he says. "you're so close, right? so pretty, you should see yourself."

"close." you murmur. "i need it."

he keeps fucking you until you finally snap. your mind goes blank, it's all him. his scent overwhelmes you, surrounds you and there's nothing else. aemond targaryen is everywhere, he doesn't stop until the tightness disappears. arching your back for the last time, your wetness stains the sheets.

aemond can't keep himself any longer. "come for me." you beg. "please, come for me, i need to feel you."

who's he to deny your wishes? he comes hard, grunting, moaning your name. your thighs, your cunt, the sheets, all covered in white cum. he lets out a breath, shaken up by your cunt. "fuck." he whispers, putting his head on your chest. he's spent.

it takes a few minutes for you to get back to yourself. your fingers in his hair, his hands around you, his head on your chest. you stay like this until your mind feels like you again. you are exhausted, finally feel like you'll get a good night sleep.

"that felt pretty real to me." aemond teases when he lifts his head to see you.

"it was." you smile. "it felt so good."

aemond leaves the bed to get a clean towel from the bathroom. he comes back, cleans you up as good as he can. "help me, sweetheart." he says. "can you lift your hips?"

you do as he says, he leaves again. you feel good, your muscles spent for him, your head in that hazy space. you have a lovesick smile on your face when aemond comes back, wearing a clean pair of boxers.

"you'll get cold." he says, helping you wear one of his shirts and clean panties. "it's still raining."

"it's nice." you whisper. "can we sleep now?"

aemond kisses the side of your head. "yes. after you drink this."

he hands you a glass of water, you take three sips. aemond joins you under the covers, you wrap yourself around him instantly. he rubs your shoulder softly, you kiss his neck before burying yourself against him.

"thank you." you whisper. "for taking care of me."

"you think i could leave my girl alone when she needs me?" he says with a low voice. "i'm glad you never need to fake anything with me."

"i trust you." you say, finally falling asleep on him. three words aemond has barely heard before he met you. he thinks it's a nice weight to carry someone's trust. especially yours. you trust him with your body, with your mind. he kisses your head. your hand twitch against his waist in your sleep. he holds your hand through the night.

♡

[beenbaanbuun]

the pool w/ choi jongho

words - 3k

genre - suggestive

warnings - fem!bodied reader, bikini, internalised slut shaming (kind of but not really?), public undressing (again, kind of but not really), size kink, awkward!jongho, bff!wooyoung, lifeguard!san, massage, nipple piercings, i thing that’s it

Wooyoung holds a smug look on his face as he drops onto the sunbed next to you. You have to admit that he looks pretty good with the sun bouncing from his wet skin, but you'd never tell him that. You'd say your friendship resembled something more akin to siblings than anything else, and why would you ever have anything nice to say about your brother?

“What’s the shit-eating grin for?” you say as you toss him the sunscreen and lean forwards; an open invitation for him to massage some into your spine. The quiet scoff he passes in your direction doesn’t go unnoticed, but you can’t comment on it before you hear the click of the cap opening and an ice cold drip of sunscreen hits your back. You wince as your friend massages it in with delicate hands, your body not quite getting used to the temperature quick enough for it not to be uncomfortable as he spreads it all over. Wooyoung only laughs, taking great pleasure in the quiet hums of dissatisfaction you make.

But it only takes about 10 seconds from his hands to pull away from your back and the click of the sunscreen bottle closing to hit your ears. You spare him a glare over your shoulder, watching as he rubs the excess from his hands onto his chest knowing full well that he can't possibly have rubbed it on correctly.

“I don't have a shit eating grin,” he lies through his teeth as he takes great care rubbing the cream into his chest—a lot more than he took with your back. You almost want to push him back in the pool to wash it all off again, but that would be petty, even for you. Instead you simply roll your eyes in dismay and shift to a more comfortable position. Your book lies on the table next to you so you grab it, open it and crack the spine. You don’t start reading quite yet, though; you can’t concentrate when wooyoung looks like he’s planning something devious.

“Yes, you do,” you argue. “Tell me what you’re doing!”

“I'm not doing anything!” he fights back, tone defensive and not at all matching the gleeful smile on his face.

“Well, then tell me what you know!”

His eyes flicker to the pool for just a moment before returning to you. Maybe he thinks you didn’t see it, but you did, and so your gaze follows his only to land on him. The same man from the pool yesterday, and the restaurant last night, and breakfast this morning. The very same man you’ve been obsessing over the last few days. You squeak in something akin to terror and immediately look back to a smirking Wooyoung. Your eyes stay firmly locked on his for one, maybe two seconds before some strange magnetic force pulls your eyes back to him.

He leans against the edge of the pool with one arm up on the side, allowing you to see the soft flesh of his arms. The skin is tan and smooth and good god if you don’t get a chance to dig your nails into it by the end of the holiday then you’ll have worn nothing but your skimpiest of bikinis for nothing. The uncomfortable wedgies and uneven tan lines will have been a waste, nothing more than a study in the art of hassle and discomfort, and that really would put a damper on what has been an otherwise enjoyable holiday.

You crane your neck further to get a glance at his face. Those plush lips that look so incredibly soft, the sparkling eyes that turn a deep honey colour when the sun shines down on them. There's something beautiful about him in the same way a bear is beautiful; intimidating and graceful yet somehow sweet at the same time. Perhaps the strange duality is just one of the reasons you can’t seem to take your mind off of him. His hair is pushed back in a way that has you drooling, and not just at the mouth. You can’t help but let your eyes linger for just a second or two before they move a little further south landing upon that mole on his neck; the one you so desperately want to press your lips to…

You’re ripped from your trance when Wooyoung snaps his fingers impatiently in front of your face. With an unsurprising degree of reluctance, you tear your gaze away from him and return it to your best friend who’s smug smile seems to have grown. You’d wipe it from his face if you could, but he’s too far away and it’s far too hot to exert the energy needed to move. You scowl at him instead, tossing up a middle finger in displeasure.

“Stop being weird, Woo, nothing is going to happen,” you say through gritted teeth because god, you desperately hope that statement isn’t true.

“You want it to, though,” he seemingly reads your mind. “You should do something about it!”

“What, like you’re doing with that lifeguard?” You point to the shirtless man across the pool who has absolutely zoned out when he should really be watching the water instead. You can only hope no one has an emergency whilst he’s busy gawping at your friend who has been endlessly peacocking–not that you can say anything–since the day you arrived at this hotel. Wooyoung sends a wink in his direction before turning his attention back to you, just in time to see you fake gag.

“See; I am doing something about the lifeguard,” he grins at you.

“A wink and a smile isn’t going to get you laid.”

“Well it’s more than you’re doing with your man,” he counters, “creepily staring at him isn’t going to get you laid either.”

With a groan you toss your face down into the soft cushion of the sun bed. Wooyoung is right as much as it pains you to admit that to yourself. You want the pool guy so bad and yet all you’ve even attempted to do to seduce him is wear tiny little bikinis that haven’t seemed to catch his attention even once. At least wooyoung has some form of communication with the man he wants to fuck, even if it is just mentally undressing each other from opposite ends of the pool. Knowing your luck, by the end of the holiday wooyoung will have bagged himself the hot lifeguard and you’ll be alone… again.

Wooyoung sighs at your dramatic performance before grabbing your coin purse from the bag. “I'm going to get you some liquid courage,” he says as he stands up, “don’t ever tell me I don’t ever do anything nice for you.”

“But that’s my purs—” he puts a finger to your lip to shush you.

“Thank you is all you have to say.”

And then he’s gone, swinging his hips with each step he takes. If you were to look over to the lifeguard you’re almost sure you’d be able to see him licking his lips with desire. Almost like you when you immediately turn your head to sneak another look at him.

Only he’s not where he was when your eyes last left him. In fact, when you give the pool a scan, he doesn’t seem to be anywhere at all. Did he leave? You question yourself as you less-than-subtly scan the pool over and over again. It would probably be the best thing for your own sake if he did and yet your heart still aches at the prospect. It's not like you were going to speak to him–you absolutely, unequivocally weren’t–too shy and anxious to put yourself up for that rejection, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t want to pine for a little while longer.

Feeling nothing but dejected ,your eyes shift across to where Wooyoung stands at the bar, top half leaning over the counter slightly, pert ass pointed in the direction of his beau. You’d call him a slut if you hadn’t been doing the exact same for the last week; putting your body on display as some sort of mating ritual in the hopes of a man fucking you halfway to oblivion. At least one of you seems to be having some success in his tiny little swim shorts that definitely show more off than they need to. It’s a good job he has a nice ass, you think to yourself just as a shadow passes over you, blocking the warmth of the sun beating down on your back. It’s just someone walking past a little too close, you tell yourself as you keep your vision on your friend, it’ll be gone in a moment or two.

Except a moment passes, and then another, and the shadow doesn’t move. You’re about to turn your head in the direction of the obstruction to see what’s so important for you to get a them-shaped tan line on your back, when you hear a voice. “Your boyfriend didn’t rub your sunscreen in too well, did he?” It’s pretty, musical and sweet just like a little songbird. Somehow that’s all you need to know exactly who it belongs to. Call it intuition or something but you know it’s him blocking the sun right now.

Your heart beats out of control for just a second before you manage to rein it in. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you respond, turning your head to gaze upon his damp body in all its glory…

Perhaps you’re no better than a man since the first things your eyes focus on are his tits. They’re soft and beautifully tan with little moles dotted here and there to match the one on his neck. You dart your eyes between them like you’re playing your own little game of join the dots. It takes you on a tour of his chest, pupils darting from one pec to the other until your eyes land on something you never expected to see.

Two metal bars…

On either side of his chest…

Right through his nipples…

Holy fuck…

Your jaw goes slack, and so, it seems, does your hand. Thankfully the sound on your book thumping against the less than dry ground is enough to break you free from the stupor his nipple piercings had put you in. Your vision shifts in an instant, settling instead on the pages of your book that more and more water seeps into with each passing second. “Shit,” you mutter, bending down and wrapping your fingertips around the now sodden paper.

“You got it?” he asks, clearly not too put off by your strange behaviour. You hum affirmatively as you lift the book and place it on the table beside your sunbed. He makes a similar sound, although his sounds more thoughtful; more like he’s trying to come up with something to say. It takes a while but eventually he seems to finally land on something, pulling in a deep breath before opening his mouth. “I could've grabbed it for you if you wanted,” he’s kind too? Well that’s horrible news for your crippling obsession with the stranger, “if you’d, you know… asked me to or something.”

You can’t help but let out a laugh at how unsure he sounds. It’s as if his words aren’t his own, dropping from his lips before he’s even had time to realise what he’s saying. There’s a grin on your face as you twist your head back around to see him, only this time your eyes focus on his face. He’s even sweeter looking up close, his wide eyes and round cheeks making him look something more akin to a little cub than an intimidating killer. Perhaps his face would kid you into thinking he’s innocent if it weren’t for the bars glinting at you just a foot further south.

“I shouldn't have to ask,” you grin, trying your hardest to sound seductive. To your own ears it sounds more like a petulant child; you can only hope that he doesn’t hear it too. “Not if you’re a gentleman, anyway.

“But what about consent?” he says as a pretty shade of peach covers his cheeks. You want to bite them, as if they’d give you the same sweet juice as the fruit they so clearly resemble. You wonder if his lips taste that sweet; you bet they do. “I didn't want to overstep.”

Your grin splits your face in two as he shuffles awkwardly from foot to foot. Upon first glance, you were half expecting him to be some suave, smooth talker. He'd say a few flirty pick up lines before taking you to his room for a one-and-done. This, though—this is much more dangerous. This is feelings territory.

“You’re not overstepping by picking my book up,” you say, “that’s simply courteous—gentlemanly, like i said!”

“Courteous,” he repeats slowly as if it’s a new word to him. there’s a ponderous look on his face that quickly morphs into a shy smirk. It seems to transform into something much more confident in the matter of a few seconds. It's almost cocky, and yet there remains to be that sweet, unsure look in his eyes. It's adorable, really. “Well,” he pauses to take stock of his next few words, “would it be courteous to offer to finish rubbing in the sunscreen your boyfriend missed?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you repeat.

“Well–”

“Just rub it in, will you?” you cut him off with an exasperated sigh. As much fun as you’re having playing this little game of cat and mouse, the need to have his hands on your back far outweighs any amusement you’re getting from his pitiful attempt at flirting. He listens, placing one hand on your calf to support himself as he perches himself on the edge of your sunbed. It inches its way up to your inner thigh, stopping just before it gets dangerously close to your core. His thumb barely brushes against the exposed crease where your ass meets your thigh as he softly grazes his fingertips over the back of your leg. They shift to the side, gracefully slipping over the thin string of your bikini bottoms that rests upon your hip. They catch against it, tugging ever so slightly on the bow that holds the flimsy garment together.

It's a promise, that much is crystal clear.

His palm is warm when it first comes into contact with your lower back, yet it still manages to send a shiver up your spine. It’s big too, covering just enough area for you to realise how small you are compared to him. You could see it in his broad shoulders and his thick arms, but feeling it is just… different. He’s barely even touched you yet there’s already a moan on the tip of your tongue. God only knows what’ll happen when his hands get a little more adventurous.

“Can I undo your top?” he approaches the question with about as much grace as a baby giraffe, clumsy yet endearing with the way he blurts it out. It’s impossible to hold in your giggle, your heart swelling with just how awkwardly adorable he is. But then his fingers tug dangerously upon the little bow at your spine and your breath suddenly hitches in your throat. You feel it loosen, but not quite enough for it to fall completely open. It’s not quite clear if he’s just clumsy or if he knows exactly what he’s doing, but either way the simple action has you shifting your slick thighs against each other. “Well?” he softly purrs, and by the tone of his voice you have to assume he's so blissfully unaware of everything he’s doing to you.

“If you think it’ll help,” your voice sounds strained but he doesn’t mention it. He doesn’t tease you about how much he’s affecting you, or do something unprovoked to force you deeper into this pit of unadulterated arousal you’ve found yourself in. Instead he just tugs open your bikini, just like he said he would, and then his hands are on you again.

The first moan you let out as he grazes his hands up and down the plane if your back can be passed off as one of enjoyment. The massage you’re receiving from the big strong hands of an unbearably handsome man is just good and the sound you let out is simply one of appreciation. No one can blame you for wanting to show how much you’re enjoying it, right? The second moan, however, is almost impossible to pass off as anything other than a plea for more. As his fingers dip down your sides, hands cupping your waist and making you feel so small and malleable beneath him, you can’t help but groan as you sink your teeth into your bottom lip.

His fingers pause, hands tensing a little as the grip they have upon your waist intensifies. Although you haven’t exactly tried to hide it, you know that this is the exact moment that just how badly you need him really sinks into his adorably awkward brain. You’re not entirely sure what else he was hoping to get out of giving you the world's horniest massage, but it’s clear that he wasn’t expecting to get this far. Maybe he’s just a pervert who just wanted an opportunity to feel you up before going to furiously masterbate in the comfort of his room, or maybe he really did just want to come and talk. It doesn’t really matter either way, now; you still need his cock buried deep inside of your walls.

He leans in, grip intensifying as his torso comes to rest against your spine. The metal bars that you nearly almost forgot about feel like ice against your spine as he pushed you down into the bed with his body. Small; you feel so incredibly small, like it would take him no effort at all to pick you up and put you anywhere he deems he wants you. You hope he wants you sitting on his dick, if that really is the case.

“Do you want to come back to my room?” he whispers in your ear like a child passing a message in the middle of class. Nothing about his voice reads sexy, and yet you know if you were standing it would have your knees buckling. you nod silently, not trusting your voice to come out in a way that doesn’t make you seem pathetically desperate. He hums in appreciation. “good,” his lips connect with the side of your head, “the names Jongho, by the way. just in case you need something to moan.”

[ifangirlalot]

if ur still taking requests i would love to see submissive miles fairchild or sal fisher, the thought of either writhing under u, whiny and needy is just too good

˗ˏˋ 𝐓𝐎𝐏!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐱 𝐒𝐔𝐁!𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 ˎˊ˗ | starring miles fairchild & sal fisher

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

*~smut!~* [𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘]: sub boyfriend, dom reader, tip rubbing, edging, degradition, orgasm denial, dick riding, face sitting

OMG! FINALLY I WAS HOPING I'D GET A SAL REQUEST! nnnnyahhh

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

┊ ˚➶ ｡Miles Fairchild ˚ ☁️

Miles is sputtering beneath me, his eyelids fluttering almost helplessly as he babbles incoherently with every up and down motion of my body. Despite how controlling and demanding he is, how intimidating he is, it surprisingly wasn't very hard to turn into a whimpering, stuttering mess. Turns out, it's a lot easier to do so when he isn't actually in the house. Quint's influence can't touch him if he's not on the property.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love Miles fucking me into submission and degrading me to the fullest, but it's so amazing that I could reduce a headstrong, controlling, dominant force into nothing more than a pile of whimpering, begging filth.

Slowly, I reach my hand down and wrap it around his throbbing cock, pressing my thumb against his clothed tip. In response, Miles let out a surprisingly high pitched whine, his back arching slightly. "A-ah.. oh no, Mistress.. n-no, not there, I don't wanna cum yet.. n-no please.." he begs softly, eyes still squeezed shut as though he's afraid of he looks at me his cock will explode with cum.

"Hush." I say gently, yet firmly. I've quickly discovered that Miles prefers to be praised, which fits well with the person that he is. Miles normally doesn't like to be told he's doing something wrong. It wounds his otherwise enormous ego. Which is what I want. Ignoring him, I go back to rubbing his leaking tip through his boxers.

"No, Miss! P-pleaseeeee..! Oh please, I'll do anything just please don't make me cum.. I want your pussy, I want your boobs, please.. oh GOD please!" Miles continues to beg. I roll my eyes like it's a chore for me and slowly pull his boxers down to his knees, allowing his fully erect dick to bounce out, almost hitting his stomach. For such a skinny guy, Miles is packing some heat down there. If Miles were in charge, he'd be making me tell him how big it is. Except now, I'm the one in charge, and that brings a smirk to my face.

Miles let out another tiny whimper, and I can feel him watching my face, trying to gauge my reaction to his cock, so hard and ready for me. But I keep my face blank and impassive on purpose, just to beat his ego a little.

"I-it's big.. right Mistress?.." Miles finally asks, tentatively.

It is big. It's really big, actually. But the point of this whole scenario is to humble him, so I shrug, which damn near brings Miles to tears, based on his hurt look. But he very noticeably doesn't use the safe word I gave him, so... Maybe he kinda likes being put in his place?

"Size doesn't matter, my love. Now shut up and I'm gonna ride you, okay?" I smirk and reach for the pack of condoms in Miles's nightstand. Miles doesn't like to use condoms, he says he doesn't like the feel of latex on his cock. But, just tonight, I'm going to make him wear a condom. In all seriousness, if he's going to accidentally knock me up, I'd rather it be on one of the nights he's railing me straight into his bed.

When he sees where my hand is going, he whines in protest and starts to squirm. "Oh no.. n-no, ma'am, please no condom, y-you know I don't like them, please.."

"You'll wear it and you'll fucking like it or you'll have to use your hand." I say firmly, my jaw set.

Miles whimpers and squirms more, begging a little more feebly now. "B-but.. you like t-to.. f-feel my.. my cum.." He gulps as I pull out a single packet and rip it open. He whimpers again, knowing that he's lost.

"Shut up, or I'll stuff my underwear into your mouth to shut you up myself." I say, my voice low and commanding.

Miles's face goes bright red and he moans lowly, a shudder ripping through his body.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

┊ ˚➶ ｡Sal Fisher ˚ ☁️

"Pleasepleaseplease, just.. just let me.. please I want to, I-I want.." Sal's words are coated with a whimper. Drool pooling out of his heavily scarred mouth. His prosthetic lays on the bedside table, the straps hanging limply over the edge. Without his mask, he can't stop drooling, due to the hole torn into the side of his cheek. Most people would think his face is grotesque, but to me it's weirdly beautiful.

Sal's hands are tied together to the bedframe, his lean body squirming underneath mine.

"Shh.. shh.. not right now, we're only just starting, baby.." I say softly, cupping his cheek as my thumb caresses his cheek. My affection makes him whine quietly as he pushes his face against my hand, seeking more. I smile and slowly pull my hand away. I put my hands on his sides to hold him steady as I slowly start to ride him a little harder. He writhes under me and moans out loudly, pushing his hips quickly against mine.

"Mommy.. mommy.. pleasepleasepleasepleaseee.. Gonna.. gonna cum.. m-mm.. I g-gotta.." Sal's adorably pathetic whines almost make me want to give in... but no. That would be too kind. I can see his hands struggling against the restraints, trying to reach out to touch me. His one real eye is glazed over with tears, like he's trying to coax me into untying his hands so he can grab me and hold me against him while he fucks himself into me.

I wrap my hand around his wrists and hold them tight while I bounce my hips quickly. "Don't you cum, Sally. If you cum we'll have to keep going until I want to stop."

He moans loudly and shakes his head in a somewhat lazy way. "N-nuh.. nuh.. oh please no, c-can't take it.."

Eventually, I slowly pull myself off him. His cock is so coated with fluids, both his and mine, that it's shiny with it. I smirk and grab a handful of his electric blue hair and hold his head down as I slowly sink onto his face.

Sal is really good at having his face ridden.

His tongue immediately gets to work swirling around. I moan quietly and tilt my head back, my mouth dropping open in pleasure. "Oh yeah.. that's my good boy.."

His tongue is coated with moisture and it's cold, which makes it all the more better. I rock my hips quicker, clutching his hair harder, causing him to whimper muffledly against my pussy.

Oh, this is going to be an incredibly fun night for me.

[savanir]

DP x DC ficlet

is it even a ficlet anymore, this thing has gotten incredibly out of hand...

So a while back I saw this

and I picked the Green Lantern one and then just kinda wrote a full fic so...

It had been a good party, official yes but despite that still festive enough and with just a bittersweet hint. as all good meaningful parties should be like, unless you’re looking to get absolutely shitfaced.

But hey Rowan deserved a proper sendoff for making it to this point and not dying in the process. Hal is going to miss the old pilot though.

"Hal, I got something for you, before I forget"

"Hm, what is it"

The old man puts a small intricate glass model of a f16 fighter in his hand.

"Back when I started I was given this for good luck and protection"

Rowan presses it down firmly and stands there all official like "may it grant you both as it did for me"

They both stand there for a second before laughing.

“Feel free to shelf the whole luck thing, what’s really important is skill and experience. Still, knowing you, you can definitely use the protection ”

Hal grins, "Thanks, I'll keep close"

"You better, the sentimental value is sky high" Rowan slaps his shoulder with another laugh.

Good lord what a dork.

The old retiring pilot wasn't paying attention, too caught up in everything else but Hal saw the faint and brief green hue coming from his hand.

In a panic he slammed his other hand over top. Completely missing the quietly whispered "protect"

Too busy cussing out his ring in his head, he swears that thing is trying to out him on purpose sometimes.

This time it wasn't the ring though, so it's a good thing it's an inanimate object and can't be upset at how wrong Hal is being right now.

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah! Let's get back to the others"

The evening ends uneventfully.

---

It's really only until quite a bit later that things start to happen.

"Green lantern" its batman's business voice.

Both Hal and John look up.

"Jordan" ah shit.

"I'll catch you up later" and he leaves Hal behind, traitor.

"What's up spooky"

"You need to update your file, it is missing critical information, and on that note I wasn’t aware that the lantern suits grant you intangibility now"

"I... what..? It doesn't? What are you talking about spooks"

"Hrn" Batman pulls up a screen and shows him footage of the latest fight, in it you can clearly see something was supposed to hit Hal but went right through him "You're telling me you didn't know or notice this?"

Hal just looks kinda sick. That would have been a bad hit and he just straight up didn't even notice.

Batman just kind of silently looks at him and he must have come to some conclusion because the next thing Hal knows this comes out of his mouth.

"I've already ran your blood through the lab, it's not a sudden emergence of a meta gene so it's either from the lantern corps or you've otherwise externally been affected by something that's causing this"

Hal closes his eyes and internally counts to ten, it doesn't help.

Batman takes his silence to mean he can keep talking. The man is on an unusual roll. Hal would have been ecstatic if he didn't hate the topic quite so much.

"It would have been best if it had something to do with your ring however you seem to be completely unaware and I've also noted that the green of your ring and the green glow that comes with the density shifting are different"

He has examples with corresponding color codes, Hal is so tired.

“let's set a time frame…” Batman pulls up some documents and graph on the screen “seeing as you are unaware of this development I will set the starting point of this potential change as of now to right after the last time you have been known to be hit in a fight and before the first known instance of you being able to density shift, that leaves us with a full month.”

Hal really, really does not want to be here anymore.

“In this month you have not gone off planet so whatever caused this is on Earth” Batman pauses for a moment, “has anything significant happened during that time that springs to mind now?”

“no, nothing significant has happened during that time, frankly it’s been a very pleasant uneventful four weeks in which I finally managed to catch a break and it figures something crazy has apparently happened anyway”

Hal rubs his face with both hands, “but right now I couldn’t tell you what, anyway, does this have to be a bad thing? I for one am very glad that hit didn’t actually land”

“So far only Superman has had the privilege of having sudden emergence of new powers work out for him” Batman huffs, “it would be best to monitor this carefully, if anything springs to mind do not hesitate to inform me, the sooner this is figured out the better”

“awww you do care” Hal is using humor cope, sadly it’s Batman, so it’s not very effective.

“Jordan” now Batman sounds tired, he’s not the one with random surprise density shifting, Hal understand that Spooky’s crippling chronic paranoia must be exhausting but right now he’s the one freaking out considering this is apparently not a meta gene related development, it would have been so much easier if it was, oh and about that, just how and when did Batman get his blood exactly? he would like to know now.

---

sadly he does not get to know now. or anytime soon (or ever). it’s chaos right after, because of course it is.

knocked out of the sky and lying amongst the rubble, if their enemy spots him he’s in bigger shit than he already is, but he can’t fucking move and the next thing he knows he’s invisible.

and there is just nothing enjoyable about it.

Barry doesn’t know that though, “that was something else, just one moment and schwup and you were just gone, some sort of green lantern light bending? he looked right through you, thank god he did too” 

shit shit, “no that was..." it was like he just ceased to exist, movies and books and whatever other media always depicts it as such a cool thing but frankly it was terrifying. And he would prefer things that are terrifying not to happen to him, for obvious reasons, “honestly actually it’s complicated, stealth tech” Grade A bullshit.

“well it’s awesome”

“it was useful just now but not really my style you know” 

Barry slings his arm over Hal’s shoulder and gives him a one armed hug, “everything worked out” Hal can feel some tension flow out of his friend, “well! better get busy cleaning this mess up” and with a blink he’s gone.

Hal does not want to talk about this with Batman, but knowing him, he probably already knows anyway, it would be less of a headache to go to him than have him go to Hal. 

Hal wants to enjoy whatever this is, he really does, but he doesn’t know what caused this, he doesn’t know what triggers the new abilities or whatever they are, he doesn’t know what effects this shit is going to have in the future, he just doesn’t know anything, normally he doesn’t mind not knowing some things, he’s fine leaving the knowing to the people better suited for the more complicated knowing, but he would very much like to know more about this please.

---

Then they face off against an enemy and in the process Hal drains his ring completely and the next hit is going to be bad, so what will happen? Will he somehow go intangible again? Turn invisible and use the confusion to evade and attack?

No

Apparently this time he just gets a glowing green dome shield. Something very normal for him to have and use, if only it came out of his ring that is.

Nobody notices that something is wrong, nobody besides Batman that is.

"That's three new abilities that only appear during life threatening situations"

Hal has actually seriously gone over that month by now, but nothing, no answers. He's physically fine, mentally a little damaged but nothing new there, they all are. Every test he begrudgingly went through answered nothing. He was fine. Whatever was going on actually had nothing to do with him.

And at the same time it had everything to do with him because this is only happening to him.

As usual (by now) he takes out his little glass fighter jet and runs his thumb over the wings. It is soothing strangely enough. Like a stim toy.

"The last thing to try is a thorough examination by someone from the justice league dark"

Hal groans, magic, ok then, "Alright let's get this over with. Who knows maybe I'm just haunted"

It turns out he’s not haunted, this is a good thing... supposedly, Well let’s just say that Hal would have not minded being haunted or something if that meant it could be fixed, or just explained.

It doesn’t really need to be fixed, whatever this is has been very helpful after all, but he would do basically anything for an explanation right about now.

“you are not haunted or otherwise magically compromised, but I do sense faint traces of energy from the infinite realms” Zatanna is a godsent, finally something to work with.

“from the who whats?” Hal is worried, the occult field is definitely not his area of expertise. He's a space cop, not a space demonhunter… oh that would be pretty cool though, with like a hood and twin cyber crossbows, maybe he should incorporate that somehow.

“the infinite realms… have you recently been in touch with any death related realities?”

Well there was that time when he got booted to the death universe and he died and then he was a black lantern but he got better, that’s all very much very behind him.

She better not be about to tell him that stuff still has lingering consequences.

oh god dammit that’s exactly what is going on isn’t it?

"How recently?"

"In the past week?"

"Oh, no" Hal would have known if that was the case, death stuff tends to be hard to ignore.

Zatanna frowns, that's probably not a good sign.

"But you said I'm not compromised right?" Right now what Hal wants to know the most is if this is changing him. Cause it tends to be bad for him when that's the case.

"No this is just lingering traces of something or someone else using their powers near you"

???!!??!?

"What are the infinite realms?" oh hey there Batman, was wondering when you would show up again.

"It's the afterlife, or... more like a collection of all afterlives. The infinite realms is very literal in their naming. It is home to powerful dead entities. As a general rule magic users are discouraged from interacting with it.

"Hrn"

"What did you say happened to you so far Hal?"

"Uhm, density shifting, invisibility and then a green dome-like shield, a lot like my own energy constructs"

"that sounds like pretty standard stuff for a realms being"

"Soooo what, did one leave the afterlife and decide to follow me around or something?"

"I cannot conclusively say, I can only say that you've been close to one using its abilities"

Batman folds his arms over his chest, "We shouldn’t form theories on these findings alone, Zatanna are these realm beings dangerous?"

"Hard to say, they come in all manner of forms, some small and harmless and others on the level of world destroying gods."

Great great great, awesome, well it’s probably safe to say that whatever decided to stick around Hal isn’t small and harmless, cause small and harmless doesn’t sound strong enough to casually turn him intangible or invisible… he could be wrong though.

“I do advise caution, beings from the infinite realms also have the ability to possess someone, they call it overshadowing”

Batman’s lips thin and Hal tenses up, mind control of any kind is always awful.

“I’ll place a ward on you, as a precaution” energy starts to gather in her hands.

Batman moves for the door, “we might need to look into a way to force this being to reveal itself, it would be best if we could convince it to return to their realm”

“Well I mean-” Hal starts, “like I get that, but they have been a great help so far” 

“they are a security risk”

“I’m just saying, I am grateful that they kept me from being confined to the medical wing for who even knows how long, who knows they might just be shy, wouldn’t it be better to convince them to become our ally, like Deadman. instead of telling them to leave. just cause we don’t understand how they work yet doesn’t mean they are bad and should be booted out of our reality”

Batman narrows his eyes at Hal and turns to Zatanna who is finished with placing the ward on Hal, “Zatanna please send me all you have on the infinite realms, I will do my own research” and with that he sweeps out of the room, very dramatic.

“Ass” Hal whispers under his breath.

“He’s worried”

“well he’s being a dick about it, as usual” Hal’s fingers find his little plane once again “... hey do you think they could communicate through one of those oejah boards?”

Zatanna snorts, “it’s Ouija- and please don’t”

---

No information from the JLD has been useful so far in coaxing the realms being to reveal themselves and for the most part things just go on as usual.

“Whoever they are, they followed me when I went off planet and it might just be my imagination but I had a feeling that their stuff was a lot more… potent? out there? I don’t know it was kinda strange, it just felt stronger”

“but they didn’t reveal themselves to you?”

“nope, they must know that I know now too, so they have decided to just… go on as they always have I guess”

“hrn” Batman is leafing through files, because of this whole mess he’s uncovered hidden government organizations targeting occult entities as well as inhumane laws that stand directly opposed to the meta protection acts.

Why is he working with paper regarding this matter? Well it turns out there is a infinite realms being that can possess electronica and it was only because of the protections the JLD had put in place on the Watchtower that the entity didn’t overtake it in its entirety.

Watching Constantine freak out had been mildly entertaining but Zatanna had once again reminded Batman to be very careful, Batman had begrudgingly admitted he had made a slight misstep while digging for answers… in his head, not out loud, god forbid.

“this whole thing is turning out a lot bigger than we thought huh, good thing we are dealing with it now” Hal stretches his arms above his head, “anyway I am going to go grab something to eat”

“the rapport-” Batman doesn’t bother looking at him.

“yeah yeah” Hal doesn’t either while walking out of the room, dismissively flicking his hand, “don’t worry about it spooky”

Hal takes his little plane out on the way to the cafeteria and fiddles with it in his hand, once there he puts it on the table next to Barry before getting himself something to eat.

They catch up, Hal complains (bitches) about Batman, others come and go, Zatanna quickly checks up on the ward she placed which makes Barry raise an eyebrow at Hal, “Ghost protection”

“... no such thing”

Zatanna glares.

Hal can see them both gearing up to start the magic is just science we haven’t fully scienced out yet argument again, “alright! I’m full” he stands up, “if you need me I’ll be writing that rapport, later” and gets the hell out of there.

It’s when he has just reached his preferred spot to work on the boring paperwork stuff when the alarms go off throughout what he can only imagine must probably be the entire Watchtower.

It seems like something triggered all of the JLD’s defenses in one go.

Impressive, but also very worrying.

The rapport is going to have to wait.

People are gathering in the meeting room and Batman is already taking the lead, “status”

“as of a couple minutes ago there was a build up of as of yet unknown energy which then burst in the cafeteria knocking out Flash” Martian Manhunter says, “Zatanna says we are most likely dealing with another being from the infinite realms”

Superman groans, this means he’s out.

It’s a good thing they now have defenses against overshadowing though. Being effectively trapped in a space station (because currently the thing is on lockdown) where literally anyone could suddenly actually be the enemy is the kind of situation a whole slew of horror movies like to be about.

“We will need to be extremely careful while finding and then dealing with this entity”

It has certainly been quite some time since the Watchtower got directly hit like this.

Hal pulls out his little plane.

or, he would, if he still had it.

thoroughly distracted now he suddenly realizes it’s no longer on his person.

Spooky is probably not going to like it if during the infinite realms attacker hunt he takes the opportunity to look around for his missing little fighter jet.

well what he doesn’t know won’t harm him.

His plan of looking for the plane while looking for the ghost is working out well enough.

In fact it is working out so good that he finds both at the same time.

At that point Hal had started wondering if maybe Barry had picked it up for him at the cafeteria before the attack happened and that the little thing was now in the medical wing with him. 

That turned out to clearly not be the case once he found the tiny thing glowing green and floating in the middle of the hallway.

“alright ghosty, that’s really important to me and I would like it back undamaged”

the tiny plane turned to now point directly at him, hmm, yeah that's not creepy at all.

 “... please don’t launch yourself at me” he foolishly says which of course means that’s exactly what it does next.

He uses his ring to construct a net with a pillow inside to catch the tiny jet, completely forgetting that it’s overshadowed and can thus easily just go intangible and right through his creations.

Instead it hits him square in the chest, rather painfully he might add and then just stops glowing and drops, making Hal scramble to not have it fall and shatter in a million tiny pieces on the ground.

immediately all the sensors stop detecting the presence of a realms being and the alarms die down.

Whatever was in the Watchtower has left the building.

or…

Hal looks down at the tiny plane in his hands, his talisman of protection and has a sinking feeling in his gut.

“Hey there little guy, might want to explain yourself?” he says to the tiny jet.

It vibrates in his hands.

“... yeah I figured, shit”

---

“I say just smash the bloody thing and be done with it, preferably that takes care of it once and for all” Constantine glares down at the tiny jet.

Hal is almost halfway over the table to shield the little thing, covering it from Constantine’s sight with his hand, “don’t you dare” he growls.

“it would be best for everyone involved, for all we known you could have gone full liminal what with how long you’ve been carrying the blasted thing around”

Zatanna is going over the little thing with her own magic, “it’s trapped”

“In that case just straight up trying to murder it would be the worst thing to do” Hal glares at Constantine some more. Who clearly doesn’t give a shit, figures, all stressed out about dealing with things from the infinite realms but whenever he feels he has the upper hand he’s more than happy to go full nuclear.

“it would be best if we had a way of figuring out their intentions” Batman looks down at the tiny jet impassively.

“Well, another reason to just carefully release this creature instead” Hal responds.

Zatanna’s magic fades away, “I would say that the fact it’s been protecting Hal for as long as he has it is a positive sign”

“hrn, but now it has gone and knocked Flash out, so what does that say” Batman huffs, “it’s too risky”

“Constantine and I will set up everything we can so it won’t be able to escape or try anything dangerous” Zatanna stops looking at Batman and turns back to the tiny plane, “if it turns out to be malicious we could simply banish it back to the realms, killing it would be rather stupid, we do not know what kind of connections it might have within the realms, we might accidentally anger something far worse with such a rash act”

Constantine groans but accepts Zatanna’s reasoning, Batman nods as well.

It’s only then that Hal moves out of the way.

Any plans of attack or banishment fly right out of the window once the two magic users are done and a young boy manifests from the tiny fighter jet.

Hal pushes Constantine aside to get to the boy’s side.

“Jordan, are you insane! Get back here!” 

“Hey, kid, can you hear me? please open your eyes, slowly, take your time” 

Batman has also moved forward much to Constantine’s frustration. Don't these two morons get that their protections won’t do shit if you just casually stroll into the circle?

Batman is mostly concerned in being able to step in should the boy prove to be a hostile entity anyway, but at the same time… well, that’s a child.

The boy kind of dazedly opens his eyes, looks at Hal and then seems to become aware of his own arms and hands, after opening and closing those a couple times he looks back at Hal and lets out a breath that can only be described as relieved and promptly passes out into him.

Well, Hal figures that settles it then. He doesn’t know shit about looking after a kid, and definitely not one who is probably quite dead, but this one is his, back off Batman.

they all startle rather violently when rings of blinding white light pass over the boy and suddenly the kid in Hal’s arms is a bit warmer and seems to have a sluggish pulse and also his clothes are different and his hair is now black and-

Hal is up and moving towards the medical wing before his mind catches back up with him. He can hear Batman behind him, it seems like Constantine and Zatanna aren’t moving after him as fast.

Well anyway his life is already so goddamn weird, this might as well happen.

[atrwriting]

rivalry — blackwood and bracken arranged marriage au

pt. 2 my luvs

so i wasn't an aeron girly and then a few people requested him and i was like shii maybe y'all are onto something

ok full disclosure i genuinely didn't think i would be able to write for him and then suddenly i think i wrote the dirtiest thing i've ever written in my life (like ok maybe im exaggerating but fr i was quaking in my boots)

as always, warnings: enemies to loves, smut smut smutty smut smut, blowjob, p in v sex, hate fucking, he's so pretty i cried writing this, dom!aeron, swearing, bit of pre-sex violence in an ok way, anal play, rough sex, arranged marriage, heavy on the sexism, aeron is a consent king u can't convince me otherwise

don't tell me if this sucks lmao actually please tell me im a whore for validation and critiques

_____

he did not know how he found himself in this mess.

genuinely, he did not.

when aeron bracken was a man grown, he understood duty and how he needed to uphold it. he understood that duty and tradition needed to be put over his own wants and needs, for it was for the greater good for his house.

...until that greater good came in the form of two marriages between brackens and blackwoods. his younger sister would marry a blackwood, and he would marry the younger sister of his new brother in-law. he bit his tongue at the idea — aghast at how a feud that is so engrained in their bones could be thrown away with two simple marriage pacts. how could a wound so deep, so festered — be expected to heal so fast, let alone at all?

despite the fact that it left him aghast — he would not show it on his face. his face was that of stone throughout the entire ordeal; the ceremony, the feast, the dancing — all of it. he hadn’t even had a proper look at his bride — because what would it do? it wouldn’t matter. he would bed whoever it was once or twice a month, and hope for the best.

that was until the wedding night.

there was no bedding ceremony, thank the gods — but there was throwing of cups.

lots of cups.

aeron had never had so many silver and gold chalices thrown at him in his entire life — especially not by a woman.

there the pair of you were — in your nightwear, behind a locked bedroom door, and you were throwing cups at your new husband.

aeron hadn’t even stepped within ten feet of you. he had simply sauntered into the room, greeted you, and began taking of his clothes as you were already dressed for the occasion.

“will you stop it?!” he hollered, bending to avoid the goblet hitting him in the temple. “i command you to stop!”

“you think that because we are married i will obey you?” you spat, throwing anything in your line of sight to keep him from you.

“i would hope that you would refrain from pelting me with objects until i have at least done something to fucking deserve it!”

“you’re a fucking bracken!” you spat.

aeron couldn’t believe the mouth on you, his new wife — but he could believe such atrocities came from the mouth of a blackwood.

“trust me,” he spat, dodging the next object. “i would rather be anywhere else than here!”

“you think me ugly, husband?” you responded curtly. “that i am not fit to share your bedchamber?”

“not when you’re trying to maim me — no, wife!”

“or that i am beneath you?” you spat.

suddenly you were out of objects to throw at him — but that relief was clouded by his sheer realization that your bark was just as bad as your bite.

“i never said that —" he said, trying to catch his breath. “if i recall correctly — it was your brother who referred to me as craven, and then agreed to the marriage pact. your brother began with the insults —“

“but not until you —“

“wife!” aeron suddenly hollered, his fists balled at his sides as his skin began to turn pink. he was a few feet away from you, keeping his distance. when you did not flinch at his volume or tone, he kept going, “am i bedding you — or your brother, hmm?”

“i wouldn’t be surprised —“

he couldn’t take it anymore. he stomped over to where you stood. his tall height forced him to lean down so his face was only a few inches from yours.

“whether you like it or not — you’re a bracken now,” he spat. his eyes were blown wide above you — consumed with an anger that appeared to be foreign to him. as you studied him, he continued, “we can either get this over with, or we tell our families we would not perform our duties. is that what you want?”

“you think i’d scoff at duty?” you demanded. “i refuse to be any man’s triumph — let alone a maiden on my wedding night!”

the admission caught him by surprise — but the look of fear that cross your eyes threw him much more by surprise. you weren’t a maiden, but what did that matter now? he could've scoffed at your admission. just like a blackwood to make a decision they regret.

“look,” he sighed, shaking his head. “that doesn’t matter now — and it would ruin both of us if anyone knew that. it does not bother me that you’ve been with someone else, nor will i force you to be with me. however, i will not be subjected to hatred from my wife when this is the first time we’ve spoken. if you wish —“

“get on the bed,” you spoke, sighing.

his brow furrowed in confusion.

“get on the bed,” you repeated.

he looked over you once before he pulled his shirt above his head, discarding it. as he turned, he began to unlace his pants — but he did not take them off. he let them hang loose on his hips before he laid down on the bed.

he returned his eyes to you as soon as he had laid down. when he set his eyes upon you, he realized you were bare. bare in all of your glory. he had never seen a woman so perfect in all of his life. skin as soft silk bed sheets, hair cascading down your back like that of the most coveted mare, and a figure that even the king himself would ask your hand in marriage for.

but he did not say that. any of that. his eyes were trained on you in the way any man would be on a woman as beautiful as you. and when his mouth parted slightly, his lips falling open in awe — you knew you had him and that no words would’ve been as good as the look on his face.

you fought the urge to smirk, but that did not stop you from walking towards him. you straddled his hips, letting your cunt fall right on top of where his pants hid his bulge.

“i prefer to be on top, husband,” you spoke.

he raised his eyebrows, silently conveying that he was impressed. “you’ll find no quarrel from me, wife.”

aeron bracken wouldn’t say that he was inexperienced, but he definitely did not have the confidence his lady wife had. he also never thought he would like a woman taking control… but the prospect of hurting a woman made him so nervous. he never saw he would actually see the day — him, a bracken, afraid to hurt a blackwood.

“but i must ask you one thing,” he spoke, refusing to touch her just yet. “this is of your own volition? — because i don’t want to do this if you do not wish it.”

you quirked an eyebrow at him, wrapping your arms around his neck in a loose embrace. “what of duty?”

“if duty comes in the form of forcing your wife in the bedroom — ” he spoke softly, and then continued, “i want no part in it.”

you couldn’t believe your ears. you didn’t think he would be aggressive or ruthless, but you never thought aeron bracken would want your consent — of all things! you didn’t think any man would ever understand the concept — and yet here was your husband, sitting below you and not touching you until he had your consent.

a small pool of wetness collected between your folds, and then slipped onto the laces of his pants. you didn’t think he’d notice — but you did.

he was looking at you intently — studying your face, but also waiting for your reply. you couldn’t help but give a knowing smile.

“are you pleased with the wife you received, husband?” you asked, gesturing to your naked body.

“i consider myself very lucky, wife,” he spoke, a slight smile coming to his lips. “but no one had ever conveyed to me how pretty of a face my wife had.”

“did they convey how poor my attitude is?”

“i already knew that, my lady.”

you swatted him lightly and playfully — both of you smiling.

“i want to do this with you,” you spoke, taking his hand and putting it on one of your breasts. “do you want this to be with me, husband?”

his hands were greedy with what he had been granted access to. his large hand grasped at your breast before he rolled your nipple in between his index and thumb finger. your hips jerked forward then at the sensitivity while your mouth parted slightly. aeron couldn’t help but watch as a blush rose to your cheeks, and he realized then that he wanted this very much.

“very much, wife,” he spoke, suddenly realizing he should at least try not to sound too eager.

he’d never know, but you didn’t mind his eagerness. you took it for candor, and that you appreciated.

you grabbed his other hand, and place it on your other breast. you witnessed his gaze flicker between your breasts and your face, almost like a silent question. when you bit your lip and smiled, aeron bracken did not waste any time.

his perfect lips wrapped around your nipple, which looked too good to aeron not to get a taste. his teeth had found the bud, lightly grazing it as he sucked at it. with his other arm, he wrapped it around your back with a focus on your waist. he began to thrust his hips slightly upward as he pushed and pulled you forward and backward onto his bulge.

“tell me what you like,” aeron ordered, still pinching your nipple.

you gasped at the feeling — surprised at aeron’s confident nature. you ground your cunt down harder onto his bulge, enjoying the friction from the laces of his pants. you grew worried at the prospect of soaking his pants, wondering how he would react.

“i want your cock inside me,” you mused. “and in my mouth.”

he moaned against your breast, the vibrations sending ripples throughout your entire body. he replied, “more, wife.”

you laughed, threading your fingers through his hair. “i like to be taken from behind — and i want your arm around my neck. i like it rough, husband."

for a mere instant, he thought about how other men would respond to her admission and use of coarse language. within that same moment, the thought vanquished from his mind. he realized how lucky he was to have a wife seemingly as experienced as you — for what trouble would there be now? you would tell him if he was hurting you, and you would be able to tell him what you like.

“and what do you like, husband?” you asked, running a few fingers up and down his upper arm.

he moved his hands down to your knees, running his large palms up and down your thighs. you watched his shoulder and bicep muscles tense and release as his arms extended and retracted, rubbing your soft skin. “i want to make you finish on my cock.”

you raised your eye brows at him as you blushed, laughing. “is that so, husband? i was led to believe that brackens were selfish — but now i see they're just ambitious."

you watched him as he appeared to turn over words in his head, contemplating what to say. you realized then how different aeron already was from what your family was like, and what your family believed him to be like. “can i ask you for something?”

“what, husband?”

“just allow me one night.”

you quirked an eyebrow at him. “what… do you mean?”

“allow me one night to prove that i am not what your family believes me to be.”

“my family?” you asked, stunned.

“nor you, wife,” aeron stated with a knowing grin. “just one night — for me to prove that this does not have to be a union consumed by hatred.”

you did not answer. you simply leaned down, and connected your lips with his. with both hands cupping the sides of his face, you kissed him with only sweetness and curiosity. aeron was so… different than you had ever thought he would be. he intrigued you. he honestly did. maybe it was the feud, maybe it was something else… because it didn’t matter. all you wanted to know what was the extent of his sweetness.

when he had finally discarded his pants, you marveled at his cock. it was bigger than you had ever seen, and your eyes told that. aeron smiled when he saw your surprised reaction, and couldn’t help but feel more confident at the prospect of an experienced woman being pleased with what he could offer.

you couldn’t help yourself — you immediately took him into your mouth.

aeron had received blowjobs before, sure — but not like this. oh… definitely not like this. with your hollowed out cheeks, you took him deep into your mouth and down your throat. the warmth from your mouth made him shiver, but not before his muscles tensed at the same time his mind relaxed. he had never known bliss like this. how could his pretty wife ever think he would scorn her for her experience, especially when he benefitted from it so sweetly? few hairs fell down to cover your face as you sucked on his cock, and he couldn’t help but think about how fucking lucky he was.

so lucky. so fucking lucky.

that was until you pulled off.

“does etiquette escape you, husband?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

he raised an eyebrow. “no — but your meaning does. why have you stopped?”

“because you should be holding my hair out of my face!” you snapped, eyeing him.

you didn’t let him respond. you took him back into your mouth before one of his hands picked up all of your hair and piled it on the back of your head — away, and out of your face.

good, you thought. he can take directions.

that was until you felt him begin to push down on the back of your head, causing the tip of his cock to nudge further and further down your throat. you wanted to scold him — reminding him you’re the one in charge when his cock is down your throat — but you didn’t. you didn’t because when you snapped your eyes up and saw the look on your husband’s face, you would’ve gasped if you could.

his cheeks were tinted a light pink as his eyes had drifted closed. with his mouth slightly parted, falling open in pleasure, he fought back the urge to let small moans escape his throat. with his adam’s apple bobbing — all you wanted to do was keep him teetering on the edge of not enough of and the perfect amount of pleasure.

you should’ve scolded him for pushing down on your head without asking, but you realized suddenly that it ate at your womb like the hunger for his big member inside of you. your realization occurred at the same time aeron noticed you watching him.

he smiled.

wickedly.

“are you enjoying yourself, wife?” he asked, holding your head up so you were only sucking the tip.

you narrowed your eyes at him, unwilling to give him what he wanted.

he threw his head back in laughter. you went to tell him off, but he pushed your head down again. you gagged around him, fighting the urge to cough and cry. you were growing irritated with his actions — wondering where in the seven hells he got the fucking nerve.

he noticed your anger the instant your brow began to knit together.

“you’re so pretty, wife —“ he spoke, relishing in the pleasure you granted him with a wicked smile on his face. “but you are so much prettier when your cock is down my throat and that attitude escapes you.”

he pushed your head down again, causing you to gag and a tear spring to your eye. you wanted to tell him off — but when the warmth in your womb curled with the anger in your chest, you couldn’t. you just couldn’t. you couldn’t bring yourself to scold him, because what if he stopped? what if he stopped the delicious, bittersweet feeling that he was giving you without even touching you?

“i can see it by the way you’re rubbing your thighs together,” he spoke, eyes on the backs of your legs. “can’t help it, i see. all that blackwood attitude, 's too much for you, isn't it? — all you needed was for a bracken to put you in your place.”

he wasn’t choking you, no — but the surprise attacks on the back of your head and into your throat threw you for loops. you didn’t like to be out of control, and didn’t think you ever would — but you couldn’t deny the slick that had fell from your folds and was now collecting between your thighs. you grew insecure at the thought — that if the flames from the fire or the lanterns caught the shadows just right, aeron would see your slick glisten in the light. the realization was embarrassing and exhilarating all at the same time — but you couldn’t deny you wanted more.

“that’s it, wife,” he cooed condescendingly above you. “take that bracken cock down your pathetic fucking throat.”

you did. oh gods, you did. your throat was hoarse with the bittersweet attack on its inside. you were fighting back coughs and gasps, wanting to wipe away every bit of saliva from around your mouth but you couldn’t. you were stroking the bottom of his cock and bracing yourself with your other hand — working him as fast and as hard as he wanted you to.

and then he pulled you off when you reached the tip of his cock.

you were hazy — lost in lust. he pulled you off of his cock with your mouth still open, saliva beginning to run down your chin. you were gasping for air once aeron let go of your hair, only to replace his hand around your throat.

you immediately grabbed his wrist — you weren’t sure why. to brace yourself, maybe — but that was all you could do as aeron held you before him with your back arched towards him while he sat upright.

you weren’t sure what you looked like — probably a mess; spit, tears, and messy hair. but aeron? fuck, aeron — he was himself. completely himself. confidence and pleasure and arrogance formed to make a look of power on aeron, and you couldn’t help but want him more. the pink hue of his cheeks and lips did not suggest innocence, no — but exertion of a man’s power. at that moment, all you wanted was your bracken husband inside you.

“you hate that you liked that, don’t you?” he asked, a small wicked grin playing at his lips.

you couldn’t answer. you could only gasp for air in response, throat still dry from his cock.

“cock keeps you quiet, wife?” he laughed then.

your eyes narrowed at him, even through your tears. that set you off.

“well, when you shove your craven cock down my throat —“

he chuckled then, and you were too weak to protest. “craven cock, that right?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “well, maybe i should let my reputation precede me — i guess i don’t care about fucking my wife the way she needs me to.”

“i don’t need you to,” you spat, lying through your teeth.

“you don’t?”

he held you upright then, leaving you on your knees with your back arched. he towered over you on your own knees as you felt a hand of his slip down your abdomen, and in between your thighs.

he laughed once more. “you don’t?”

you went to hit him, but he caught your hand. your cheeks were beginning to sting with want, need, and embarrassment. when his fingers began to rub circles on your clit, the fucking center of the ache — you almost doubled over onto him, hoping to catch yourself on his chest. you fought against his fingers, forcing yourself not to show any sign of enjoyment.

he chuckled darkly. “i’m going to have to fuck that blackwood attitude out of you, aren’t i?”

“as if you could,” you replied, glaring.

he raised his eyebrows at you then — a dare. you were feeling weak, and definitely weren’t able to match him — but you couldn’t let that show.

“i was going to be nice and let my pretty wife ride me,” he ordered, sighing. "get on your stomach."

he let go of your throat with a slight push on the release. your muscles were wound so tight that the abrupt action caused you to lose your balance, and fall. with a huff, you rolled over onto your stomach.

aeron couldn’t believe the sight before his eyes. the flames and the moonlight from the window caused shadows to ripple across your perfect hourglass shape and ass. aeron pushed your soft, long hair off of your back and onto the bed so that his fingers could trace the length of your spine from your neck to your tailbone.

you shivered at the feeling. you were about to scoff at him when he smacked your ass.

“bracken!” you spat. “how dare —“

he chuckled before he pulled you up the hips. you caught yourself on your knees and hands, trying to keep your balance. a blush rose to your cheeks as you realized you were… completely exposed to your husband. you felt his hand come up to the fleshy part of your ass, kneading the thick skin. you froze.

“my perfect wife…” he mused, massaging your skin.

you wriggled in his hold, and he held you still — spreading your cheeks. you gasped at the further exposure — every private area of your body now visible.

“husband…” you spoke.

his tone mocked you. “you’re still soaking, my lady — do you really want your lord husband to stop?”

“piss off — !”

he smacked your ass again, causing you to yelp.

“can’t expect better from a blackwood…” he sighed. he spat on the puckered hole of your ass, and you froze. he let the spit drop from your ass to your cunt, mixing with the juices collecting on your folds. “are you going to lose your mouth?”

“i swear —“

you felt his finger circle your puckered hole, and before you could protest — he slipped his thumb into you.

you gasped, leaning forward. his laugh vibrated through him, and you felt it against the backs of your thighs. it was only his thumb — but you had never been touched in such a way. you had never had anyone, nor anyone breach such a private area of yours. you felt it bury itself to the last knuckle, all of your muscles tightening around it. you should’ve felt violated, dirty, something of the sort… but you didn’t. all you could register was how empty your cunt felt in comparison.

“have you ever been touched here before?”

you didn’t answer, still speechless.

he smacked your ass once more. “you will answer when your lord husband speaks to you.”

“no, husband…” you whispered. “please, husband… i want your cock…”

“…i could give you my cock, couldn’t i?” he spoke, slipping his thumb in and out of you gently. a sharp intake of break was involuntary from your throat. “i could, but what would that teach you? my greedy blackwood wife would continue to think so little of her bracken husband.”

“don’t make me beg,” you whined. “i want you so bad, please…”

you couldn’t see it — but you could imagine the smirk on his face at your words. he slipped a finger inside your soaking cunt and aching clit, and couldn’t help but let out a sigh at the feeling. your cunt clamped down around his finger like you had never had someone inside you before, needing him so desperately. his circles on your clit were agonizingly slow, and soon the relief from his minuscule touch was turning into desperation.

he realized this at the same moment you did.

“who knew my lady wife could be such a whore for her husband,” he spoke lowly. your hips began to rock against his hand, wanting and needing more. so much more. “do you wish me to stop? tell me.”

“no —“ you cried. “you can’t stop, i’ll… i’ll…”

your body felt like it had pins and needles everywhere. you had been pushed and pulled toward an orgasm, over and over, but never fully brought to the peak. you were warm, cold, hot, freezing — all at once and it smashed your resolve to pieces. you were a pathetic, drooling, sopping mess that needed her husband to quell this ache; to put it to rest so that you may rest.

he ripped his hands from you, and you sobbed. you actually sobbed. you bent your hips back to meet his, but met nothing. you bit back a sigh of frustration as tears threatened to overflow from your eyes.

“seven hells…” you sighed, shoving your face into the bed cover.

then, you felt your hips being pushed down as your knees flattened. you went to turn around to question it, but then you felt your husband spread your thighs. the cool air hit your cunt like lightening and you whimpered at the feeling. you felt an arm snake around your throat as a weight settled on top of you.

you felt aeron’s lips press against your jaw — pushing your head to the side as his touch calmed you. you let your head be supported by his strong arm, whimpering when you felt the tip of his cock at your entrance.

“maybe brackens are mean…” he whispered against your ear. “an honorable husband would right that mistake, wouldn’t he?”

he didn’t wait for you to respond. he thrusted his cock into your wet cunt. once his cock filled you, a gasp left your lips on reflex. you could feel a groan rumbling in his chest as he bit down on your neck. your husband had complete control over your body, and you gave in to his thrusts as his hips snapped against yours.

“that’s what you needed,” he stated with a wicked grin against your cheek. “cunt so warm and wet — just wanted to be fucked so bad.”

“you fucking bastard —" you cried. “it feels so good —"

with a groan, he spoke, "i know it does — didn't i promise i'd make the ache go away?"

your cunt sucked him in — refusing to let him go as he thrusted inside of you. he slid his hand underneath your stomach and let his fingers find your clit and roughly rub shapes on it. you reflexively bit down on his forearm, crying into his skin. your hips wanted to move with him, or against him, fucking anything — you weren't really sure, as they had a mind of their own. the pleasure was too much — and way too much for your mind. aeron was fucking you dumb into the bed without anywhere to go.

you felt his lips by your ear, "that's it. take it for me. ungrateful cunt — can't get enough of craven bracken cock."

nothing that left your lips was coherent. you were gasping onto his forearm for dear life as his sword hand drew the greatest weapon of all — forcing the sobbing, strong woman to become clay in his fucking hands. with his own hips and arm, he held your hips down as they tried to fight against them. try they did, but they were no match for a man like aeron bracken.

"tell me you can't get enough wife — " he grit against your ear. "tell me you can't get enough of craven bracken cock."

"don't make me — "

he stilled not only his hips, but his hand.

he held your still with his forearm, locking you in place. you fought against him, trying to buck your hips back against his cock for anything you could get. with malice, he replied, "i could use my hand and hold you down on this bed as i finish all over your back. would you prefer that, wife? spilling over you like a common whore? or will you listen?"

"fucking —" you spat, consumed by frustration. "aeron, please —"

"are those words too dirty for you, my lady?" he asked condescendingly, softly and slowly moving his finger against your clit. not enough to satisfy you — but definitely enough to frustrate you further. "you want me to fuck you like other lords fuck their new wives? slow, and shallow? maybe three thrusts before they fall asleep? barely caring if their wife feels good?"

"no..." you whimpered.

"then say it."

"please, husband..." your mind going numb with frustration. "please — i need your craven bracken cock."

"that's is, love," he spoke, sheathing his long cock inside you once more. "that's all i needed. such a good little wife for me."

his fingers immediately continued their assault on your clit, and you gasped at the feeling. you could feel and hear aeron's laugh behind you as your hips jerked once, twice, thrice before you let out a cry. it filled the room and would fill the ears of anyone walking by your room. you dug your nails into his forearm as he pulled you closer against him, closer, closer, closer — kissing your forehead as you came. you came, and you came, and you came. there was nothing like it. there was nothing left of you. you had never experienced an orgasm that was so fucking earth shattering. it pushed and pulled you like nothing ever before. with each aftershock, aeron sucked on your neck and hummed at the taste. he wanted to swallow you whole, and leave nothing left for you. you were clay — barely crumbs in his hand, but only his to mold.

when you went limp, aeron let out a hearty, earthy grunt. he pushed you down onto the mattress as you lay flat on your stomach. on his knees and between your thighs, he grasped the flesh of your ass in both hands and fucked your cunt straight into that perfect spot that you had only found once or twice in your life. he was like an animal behind you; predator and prey, with the carnal need to breed you dumb. when aeron delivered his final thrust, his hips snapped against you and you could feel him against your cervix. it hurt in the most delicious way possible — almost like you could feel your hips, cervix, womb, fucking everything open for him and swallow him whole.

he collapsed next to you before he pulled you into his arms. he placed a single kiss on your forehead, long and hard and you sighed, content.

"did i prove myself to you?" he whispered as the flames from the fire begin to die down, cloaking you both in darkness.

you scoffed, nuzzling further into him as you kissed the skin of his chest.

"no need to admit it, wife," he laughed, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "i already accomplished tonight's ambition."

you swatted him — and he laughed, not fearing you in the slightest.

____

lmk what u think ;)))) -L

[rootspiral]

AGATHA ALL ALONG DEEP DIVE: episode 1 part 1

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7])

IT'S TIME TO REWATCH AGATHA ALL ALONG, WITCHES! And as usual, spoilers below.

episode 1, Seekest Thou The Road

Wanda is dead (no she ain't). As a result, her spell is weakened and Agatha has changed from her nosy neighbor character to detective Agnes (or caught the true crime bug, as Herb will put it.)

Stinky grimy Agnes, so serious and depressed. As soon as she appears onscreen she's humming the Ballad.

Detective Agnes has just been recalled to action after being off duty for a while. She was punished for "punching a suspect", which is code for going after Wanda. Agnes points out that now the suspect is a convicted felon, i.e. that she was right after all and Wanda is dangerous and evil. "I can't be right and wrong" she says. "Yes, you can" says Herb, because both Agatha and Wanda are villain and victim. And lol at the police tape symbolizing Herb's fence. You know the poor guy is in his garden looking down at Agnes in her Bonher family tshirt, wondering what the hell is going on.

oh that's a seriously good shot

Agatha looks heartbroken when she sees Wanda's body, doesn't she? She looks so sorry.

Herb (the real Herb behind the illusion) confirms that Agatha is acting different than usual.

THIRD TIME SHE DISCREETLY DRIES HER TEARS

There is nothing funny about Detective Agnes. Or rather, it's funny to watch her because she's so intense, but we laugh at her, she's not being a clown on purpose like Agatha usually is. And Agatha right now is in a lot of pain, even more than usual having completely lost her agency. This character so unkempt, so sad, so doggedly searching for answers, is more true to Agatha's real self than what she usually lets people see. Deep down she's just a tragic lesbian wet rat.

Somebody called in to have the body found, and I think that somebody was Rio. Why would the body be next to the water otherwise? It's like the River of Life laid her gently where Agatha could find her. In other words, Wanda's death brought her to Agatha. I'm curious about these woods too, we know they don't actually exist as this is all in Agatha's head, but where did the idea come from? Are these the woods where she killed the Salemites? Where she gave birth to Nicky? Or where she buried him?

Agatha's victims from the finale flashing throughout the opening. Wherever it may bend, I'll see you at the end.

"based on the danish series WANDAVISDYEN" never fails to destroy me. and it's so clever too, it's like they're telling first time watchers that yes, this seems like a grim detective show, but you clever audiences know that things are not as they seem and this is a parody, right?? this is not serious at all, it's funny! Laugh! Except. It's not funny. It's not funny at all. And you're going to realize only when it's too late. It's the same thing they do with Sharon/Mrs. Hart, they lure you in with laughs only to hit you with heartbreak. This show is not a comedy at all. It's at its very core a senseless tragedy.

Sarah/Dottie lives next door too, was Agatha talking to her through a window, or does the library desk symbolize another fence? This poor woman, hasn't she suffered enough? But they all more or less try to help Agnes, that's sweet. Has anyone from SWORD or whomever dropped in to talk to them, did the Avengers just decide to leave Agatha there? Did Monica (or Ralph) even explain to the poor people of Westview that she's a witch, or do they just think she's a random neighbor who couldn't be saved from Wanda's Hex?

THE MAILMAN CONTINUES BEING SUSPICIOUS. Is Agatha putting words in his mouth, or was he (the "messanger") sent by someone to warn her about the Darkhold being destroyed???

her FACE when she sees Rio

and the way Rio just stares and stares. When you rewatch this scene knowing that this is the first time she gets to see Agatha in centuries... and she has to be cool and she has to be gentle. I think it's deliberate that they put Phil/Harold/Ross Geller in here, because he's one of the funniest people in Westview and it's suggesting a first time viewer to read this scene as a comedy. Except it's a cosmic tale of tragedy and heartbreak, but you're not supposed to notice yet, even if it's right there under your nose.

Stop being such a lone wolf, Agnes. Or rather, stop being such a sad and lonely covenless witch, Agatha.

Rio laughs her delighted little laugh, licks her lips, looks out the window for a moment as if overwhelmed, then goes back looking at Agatha and basically devouring her with her eyes. ("te veo.") (thank you for my life aubrey plaza.) Agatha stares daggers back, but her body language stars getting defensive. She feels very vulnerable.

Yep, defensive. And wistful.

She is doing her job, like always. But she's also going above and beyond. There is technically no need for her to wake Agatha up, but here she is, dropping gentle clues, guiding her with such patience and care.

"If you wanna be in control you can be" is said in such a kind tone, but it's also sexy?? I think Rio really likes for Agatha to take control, in a lot of ways. Her body language is the opposite of what Agatha is doing too.

Oh noes she's making herself so small now. She's like, intrigued and angry and happy and scared to see Rio. They're both being so tentative!! And she doesn't actually know who Rio is because she's under the damn spell, so her body language and feelings are pure instinct. They come from somewhere very very true and deep. (and LOL that mug says "get a clue")

Is this who you are now, Agatha? the intense but lonely detective? she's genuinely interested, because Rio investigates Agatha just as Agatha investigates everybody else. Rio simply cannot get enough of her. and she keeps talking with this gentle, warm, understated tone.

Gains personal space. Keeps staring and staring.

oh now we're leaning. they do this every scene they are together, they keep getting closer and closer even if they don't mean to, like magnets.

Agatha literally bolts to the door and tells her to leave. Rio's presence is so overwhelming in so many different and complicated ways, and she doesn't even understand why that is at the moment. Kathryn Hahn is playing this perfectly straight (no pun intended), there is genuine pain in her voice.

"Te veo", which is not "see you," but I see you, I'm always looking for you, I'm always watching. And I finally see you, after all this time.

Oh, honey.

I'm running out of space again, but I promise I'll continue this tomorrow. Thank you for all the notes you guys, I was not expecting so many! I'm doing this mostly to amuse myself, but it's nice to know that the brainrot is collective 🙃🙃🙃

go to the next entry

[whatcannotbesaid-shallbewept]

Why The Genderswap Is The Best Thing About Warriors

Here's another post on The Warriors genderswap because I’m still not over how good it was!!!

You've got to understand that changing the Warriors to women was a sacrifice. No matter how good a choice it was, it alienated a lot of the people who would otherwise be obsessed with it.

Warriors is already a cult 70s movie - it doesn't have a huge fanbase. Making the main characters women basically alienated that entire fanbase. Because Warriors is very much a movie about masculinity.

The fans liked it because it was about masculinity, and masculine themes (courage, honour) done masculine-y.

You can find megafans of the movie on reddit or tumblr, who are very much annoyed that the story is no longer about men being men. The story isn't the same anymore, and they aren't interested.

But the change wasn't made without reason.

Lin Manuel Miranda previously thought it was impossible to turn the Warriors into a musical, despite it being one of his favourite movies. The thing that changed his mind? The genderswap.

The Warriors album was made because of the genderswap. Lin thought it was the only interesting way to tell the story in the modern age - and you know what? He was right.

Everything just hits harder when they're women.

Orphan Town and We Got You are hilarious because they're women.

Turning a male/female seductions on their head. Male seduction is a k-pop Ballad about being a nice guy? Genius.

Moments like Call Me Mercy and Park At Night are empowering and emotionally charged because they're women.

Mercy looks at the Warriors and for the first time in her life sees women that have empowered themselves, and drops everything in her life to join them, because she wants to feel like that too.

Ajax sees a catcaller sexually harassing all of her friends and thinks "I need to teach this guy a lesson, because no one else in the world will ever do that"

The story feels more intense - it feels scarier.

On some level, every women is afraid to walk home at night, and Warriors is just that feeling elevated to a musical. The threat doesn't just feel more real - it feels intimately relatable.

The genderswap was heavily inspired by gamergate. Warriors is now a story about women not being believed, being falsely accused and taken advantage of.

But the story's moral still ends up being that these women need to keep their pride, need to keep pushing on. Through everything they still hold their heads high.

God it just works so well.

Re-intepreting Luther into an incel-type villian who wants the women out of his "space"? Brilliant. Turning the controversial Swan/Mercy romance into a lesbian love story? Fantastic! Shifting the story from being about courage, to being about the courage to hold your head high even after being attacked with gender-charged abuse? Life-changing.

The emotions just... work better when they're women. Reversing the genderswap now would be taking the story's teeth away.

You can't reverse time now guys!

Much like Warriors evolved the book - the musical evolved the movie. The dudebros are scratching their heads - angry they can't relate to the musical, without realising that they aren't supposed to.

Warriors is no longer a story about masculinity. It's about femininity now and I couldn't be happier.

[thebibliosphere]

Whenever I get a particularly nasty message, I always check to see if they're following me first. Nine times out of ten, they're not. But they're also, unfortunately, the same people who feel entitled to send me multiple messages in a row, most of them heavily steeped in the language of moralization and purity.

Like whenever I talk about painkillers or pain management, I always get a handful of well-meaning people who are maybe new to my blog or are just young, asking me if I've tried diet/exercise/meditation, etc.

Sometimes I'll respond to them. Other times I'll just ignore them because I get those kinds of messages so often it's like white noise, and maybe part of me hopes if they stick around on my blog, they'll learn it through exposure via my incessant bitching.

When you see me responding to someone offering that kind of advice, it's either because I'm at my fucking limit or because I'm hoping it's a teachable moment and an otherwise seemingly nice person might unlearn some harmful biases.

The people who don't follow me are not interested in any kind of conversation on the subject. They do, however, feel the most qualified to tell me, someone they didn't know existed until one of my posts crossed their dash, how to manage my life, everything I'm doing wrong, and why I'm a bad person.

And for them, my disability is proof that I am a bad person because they view health as a moral issue.

If you're sick, it's because you don't exercise enough, don't eat the right foods, don't pray enough, don't do enough. They genuinely believe that if they say and do all the right things, like a Good Person, they'll never get sick.

It's their security blanket against the harsh reality that anyone is one bad day away from disability. One faulty gene, one bad infection, one bad accident away from a life-long diagnosis. And if they do get sick, it's a test. A challenge to be overcome with Willpower as they learn the True Meaning of Life.

It can never just be a simple fact of life that sickness happens. That disability exists without a moral reason.

And it's suffocating.

Day in, day out. Folks who don't know me from fucking Eve telling me I'm being punished. Not always as outright as that. They don't always use that word. But sometimes I appreciate it when they do because at least then they're being honest. They're not couching it in the softer language of leftist circles. Not hiding it behind concern.

Because the truth is, there are just as many folks who think they're liberal and enlightened who'd be happy if disabled people just stopped existing. They don't like thinking about us because it makes them think about themselves. About their own fragility and mortality, and they hate that. They hate that there's something they can't control with their thoughts and actions. That they can't moralize their way out of.

Honestly, it's a relief when people are just cunts about it because I can hit the block button, safe in the knowledge that they were never the kind of person who would see me as a person. But when it's some 20yo kid with their pronouns, orientation, and "ACAB" in their profile spouting the same kind of moralization, sometimes even with the language of eugenics, it feels like such a betrayal. Like a loss.

And perhaps if I wasn't multiply disabled, I'd have the energy to pull them back. To tell them why they're wrong and hope like hell they realize what they're doing is harmful. But then, if I wasn't disabled, they wouldn't be messaging me, so I wouldn't be dealing with it.

I wouldn't be expected to use my existence as a teachable moment to spoon-feed them compassion. But I am, and I do. When I can. Not always with the grace that's warranted. Not always with the thought and compassion I ought to. (And I don't; I acknowledge that. I'm prone to anger and off-the-cuff remarks that are hurtful too. Though I try to keep most of it to myself or save it for therapy.)

Basically, if you've made it this far through the TED talk, don't be fucking cunts to disabled people. Don't tell chronically ill people to try yoga. Don't moralize pain relief. Suffering is not noble.

You need to kill the cop and the priest in your head telling you otherwise.

And also if you're the nice people sending me nice messages. Thank you. It helps cushion all of *gestures* this.

[grimdarling69]

Another Deaged Dan and Ellie or otherwise known as Crack pt7

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4 Pt5 Pt6

Diana of Themyscura had met many evil men, but few had reached the evil of Lex Luthor. He had kidnaped batmans son, tortured him in numerous ways, and forced him to create a portal? They weren't completely sure about the specifics of the machine. It was obviously a portal, but to where?

Batman had called them in after taking heavy fire when they marched on Luthor previously, and the Justice League founders were currently investigating the area.

Superman especially. He's currently in the medbay recovering from emergency surgery. His sons were sticking near him after the very near death from Luthors' new powers. Last she heard, Lois had arrived on base to support him as well.

"I already told you. They are as safe as they can be." Luthor repeated under her lassos effect. He was tied up on the floor because it was the only thing that was able to stop him from using his powers.

Zatanna and her contact were currently working on a cell for him based on the mystics. Hopefully it was soon.

"Fine. Let's try another question. How do we work the portal?" She tightened to ropes.

"I don't know. My... little badger did most of the...work."

"Don't you dare call him that!" The Red Hood stomped over, picking him up by the lapels on his suit.

"You have no right to call him anything after what you've done. You're so goaddamned lucky I ain't running this mission cause if I was, I'd have ground you to dust underneath my feet and served your head to him." He growled green reflected weirdly in Luthors eyes.

"Red Hood. Back down." Jason growled but roughly dropped him hard enough he heaved as he hit the ground and curled over.

"Never thought you'd be such a killjoy, Wayne." They didn't freeze they were all much to good to freeze, but she could tell it was a near thing.

"That's right. He told me about all of you. He was more than happy enough to tell me everything." Luthor baited them. Batman growled and approached him with a furious snarl.

"Don't let yourself be led astray by anger." Diana advised him. She received the alert that the cell was ready and loaded him up to bring him to the closest zeta. Batman watched her all the while a contrast from everyone else that avoided even looking in her direction.

-----‐----------

"Fuck that hurts." His son complained but didn't shy away from them. Damians never complained before. The giant yeti stood by assorted through what he can only guess as their medical supplies before finding greenish tinted bandages in strange container. He angled his body infront of Damian shielding him from whatever that was soaked in.

"What is that?" He questioned hesitantly."It's fine, Richard, it's just ecto-aids." Damian answered with full confidence. He couldn't take it any longer and pulled the last stitch through gently before rising and starting to pace erratically

"Damian. I promised myself I would take this slow, but I can't. I have no-no! idea where we are, who anyone even is, and why the fuck you're almost a completely different person." He waved his hands around erratically ignoring the yeti placing the 'ecto-aids' on the counter snd leaving.

"We-are in the Far Frozen, in the Infinate Realms where all afterlives exist together. It's the very foundation of the mulitverse."

"What the fuck are even talking about?" His jead was hurting s d he barely restrained him self from screaming in frustration.

" I am...a reincarnation of the High King Phantom, my-his real name was Danny Fenton. He was a superhero."

"I don't-no I don't understand...what- how?"

" I think i should start from the beginning. Maybe you should sit..?" His son asked his voice gentler and almost fragile. Damian wasn't fragile. He'd seen him take out mountains of goons 4 times his size, but for the first time in years, he truly looked all his fourteen years of life. He sat down beside him and bumped his shoulder a silent show of support hopefully.

"In that life my parents were scientists who studied..." For hours he listened as Damian recounted his previous life occasionally telling his own short tales to make him feel better.

"So Lex Luthor is your godfather from another life?"

"Yes, but he prefers Vlad. He doesn't mind, Mr. Luthor, but he hates Lex." Damian winced.

"Well, this is going to take a lot of adjustment. My whole view on life has been fundamentaly been altered." That is a severe understatement. He's met people who've had past lives, but knowing his own son had one was a...adjustment.

"I...understand if you want me to leave."

"What? Damian-"

"It's fine. I understand if you think I'm to..to different..."

"Damian, you are right that you're different, but we're all a little different. The whole family is batshit crazy you know. We would never kick you out."

"But I was difficult before, and now I'll be even worse. I can't even go one day without getting into fights. I'm...wrong-."

"You are perfectly fine just the way you are." He took Damian face between his hands.

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. I am so proud of you. You have come so far in just the short few years I've known you. You overcame your past and you can overcome this to."

"I'm scared. What if-father doesnt-...want me?" His lip wobbled, and his eyes glistened in the warm light.

"Bruce loves you. You're his son. And even if somehow Bruce doesn't, I'll be right here because you're my son too. My Robin. It's okay to be scared. Courage is not the absence of fear -"

"But the triumph over it. Do you know how many times you've told me that? I couldn't count it even if I kept a journal. I would never admit to being afraid to anyone but you." His son finished his quote.

"Then why did you run from me?" He could admit that the question had laid heavily on his mind. There wasn't anybody he trusted more than Damian, and he thought he shared the sentiment.

"I knew that if stayed I'd put them in danger." Damian tried to escape his hold on his head to look away but Dick refused to let him go.

"Who, Dami?"

"My-my...children."

"What? How? You're a-"

"It's more like incubation for ghosts. Dan and ellie, the siblings I told you about. Their bodies were injured and discorpolated to the point they had to retreat to their cores. Because of their pasts, they wouldn't have enough strength to heal, so I am hosting them." Many people have hosted...things before and he's sure ghosts are different, but he's heard of spirits and parasites before.

"Oh. That's a lot but it's not...hurting you is it?"

"Not..typically."

"What do mean?" Please don't make me lose you again.

"I needed to get to Frostbite to check if there are any complications, but because of circumstances, it's complicated." He admitted looking anywhere but his eyes.

"What circumstances? What complications?" He tried to keep the desperation out of his voice but he fears he only made himself sound frustrated.

"The Lazurus Pits. I believe they are corrupted ectoplasm. Frostbite would know more about this than i do. I believe that after I got more pure ecto, the corruption was flushed out, but I need to make sure." He makes a note to ask Frostbite about Jason later.

He opens his mouth to ask again, but Frostbite came back. "Is everything all right? Some of my people heard yelling in here?" Dick goes to speak but is interrupted before he can. Damian shakes his hands off and scoots away from him on the table.

"Everything is fine. We were just about to use the ecto-aids." Damian lied convincingly. The yeti sighed, obviously not believing his less than convincing act.

"You requested a check-up? On the young cores, am I correct?" He questioned, moving on from the subject. Dick didn't remember Damian saying anything about the cores, and he had carried him all the way here. He turned to Damian in question.

"We're ghosts, or I'm a halfa, but we do a lot of emotional speaking and sensing auras. Every core has a special ecto-signal, and most can see ecto-bonds aseell. He's obviously put the dots together. It's not hard." Damian explained. The more he learns, the more concerning it gets. He gives Damian an unimpressed look.

"Quite right. It's a special bond that traverses lifetimes that you two have!"

He turned to damian questioningly but he seemed just as lost.

"I sensed the small ecto-signal that I used to sense from your older sister. I thought you already knew?"

"No, no, I don't sense anything. Everything is diluted. I didn't even sense vlad until he was right in front of me before."

"Hmm, let's come back to this later and get you checked out first to make sure there aren't any immediate problems. I may just be mistaken. Jasmine was always a liminal. She never even reached ecto-contamination levels of a halfa." He pondered.

"Wouldn't i atleadt recognize some things if I was her? Dejavu?"

"I doubt it. You might have the soul of her, but without the ecto, you might never regain the memories."

"And we are not contaminated him just to test a theory. No experiments." Damian said with distant eyes.

"Of course, great one. It was merely a thought." And with that the conversation was over and the examination begun.

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

Stephanie rubbed her eyes with expensive lotion tissues she'd called pointless, but Alfred always kept in stock. The tissue box was blue, and there was another green one beside it. The universe sure had a way of being funny.

"Care for a snack Miss Stephanie?" Alfred asked her with red rimmed eyes, he carried a plate with fancy cheeses and crackers with funny shapes.

"Thanks, Alfie." "Of course,miss." She sighed and ate the lightest cheese with an almost cat-looking shape.

"Do you want one Cass?" Cass was laying on the med bay bed with several bandages crisscrossed on her upper body. She had a heavily wrapped foot and her hair was secured with numerous brightly colored pins to keep it away from the healing scars.

She shakes her head slightly. Steph sighs and stands from the spare bed and takes the tray with her. She spares one last glance to her mourning and benched best friend.

Duke is dressed as signal sans mask bent over the batcomputer. His stance reminds her of Bruce and she can't help but smile. Duke nods his head at her.

"How is she?" He asks, typing and reading several reports. "Sad." She sets the tray on a nearby counter close enough for Duke to snack. He sighs and finally sits down in the chairs.

"Green Lanturn visited the island yesterday. He says it isn't alien."

"Which one?"

"Guy Gardner." She hums thoughtfully. She's met the guy only once before. He seemed a bit hot-headed, but she's heard of good work from him before. Jason's bike sounded out from behind them. He ripped his helmet off and slammed it down on the counter. The tray shakes, and the cheese mixes with the crackers in a pile.

"Amy leads?" She asked him ignoring his anger. He was getting better and now this.

"Do i look it panned out, blondie?" She sighed and pulled herself onto the counter.

"Zatanna had a contact look at the portal. They said it 'reeked' of death. Refused it to get any closer. Deadman is going to check it out today." Duke interupted them.

"What about Constantine?" She took the subject change.

"Still missing. Zatanna found his house yesterday. There was a note of a poker meeting in hell for a piece of his soul. Bruce thinks he lost and pissed of a demon he couldn't escape."

"You've got to be kidding me. How many people are going to go missing?" Jason started ripping off his armor and disappeared into the changing rooms. Hopefully, for a shower, he reeks.

"The Titans went back to the island today."

"How was that?"

"Raven ran into Zatanna and offered to look for Costantine in hell."

"Seriously? That's the worst idea ever."

"Batman said that to. She's probably going to go through with it still, though."

"Obviously."

"Hows your mom?"

"Good. She's worried about me. I keep telling her it's okay, but everyone knows about the cover story kidnappings by now."

" I still think the cover is bad. I'm surprised they even bought it."

"The press will buy anything that makes cops look bad. After that shootout at the mall last week, not a single person got hurt apart from some bruising, but everyone is dumping on the pigs now. Bruce is pissed."

"True. It was just some desperate kids trying to get quick cash anyway. They didn't even have bullets. Now all i get from Bruce is that I should have stopped them from pistal whipping that security guard."

"No shit?" The zeta tube rang out suddenly.

"Spoiler. Signal. Gather the others. We have a lead.

Fucking finally.

------‐---

Dick Grayson was no stranger to restless nights. Being a circus act turned vigilante, he'd been used to working well through midnight. Then he became a cop then Bruce 'died', and he quit. Then he came back and he had to say bye to his son and took a gymnastics training job. Much more flexible hours but just as exhausting. Classes, people, and training all day. It challenged even his extroverted attitude.

The coffee in this dimension wasn't anything like his own. It had an almondy taste to it, and he'd assume it was poisoned if he hadn't already drunken 2 cups a day since he got here.

It never got cold even if he left it out all day in the biting storms outside. It would be a little watery but still hot. He very much enjoyed that. He could drink room temperature coffee, but he still hated it.

They'd been staying at a log cabin in the Far Frozen since they got here four and half weeks ago. He'd questioned just about every yeti and random ghost about raising ghostlings, and hes pretty sure they run in terror when they see him coming by now. He sighed and set down his empty mug.

He spends just about everything day questioning ghosts, Frostbite visits, and spending time with Damian. Rinse and repeat. Don't get him wrong, he loves spending time with damian it was just hard. It's obvious they're running out of time. Bruce will get the portal fixed one way or another and come get them, and damian is scared out of his mind.

His nightmares haven't been this bad in years. It's gotten to the point that Damian starts out the night in his bed. Damian didn't talk in his sleep before it was mainly mumbled. Now it's all he hears.

(Please...I'm alive-im alive-im a real...person)

He gets his own nightmares as well. He sees Danny on the table. Strapped down, his hair, a white dewy halo. His green eyes glow, unseeing. A mix of red and green blood surrounding them. He's struggling with the wounds. Pushing the organs back in. Taking out the rib stretcher. Pushing them back in. Stapling his skin. His hands are covered in blood, both green and red. He thinks they might be a mix of Jazzs memories and his own imagination.

The toaster popping up pulls him from his thoughts. He picks up the burning bread. Swearing loudly and tossing the bread from one hand to the other all the way to the plate. Why didn't he just grab the plate? God he's fucking dumb.

The oven timer beeps, and he grabs his much needed mitt. He pulls out the golden brown biscuits. Alfred would be proud. He's not a bad cook, no matter what the others say. He's just a distracted and experimental one. Alfred often banned him from his experiments growing up trying to cook his parents' meals from memory. Alfred had, of course, pulled up recipes and even made calls. It just didn't taste right it was missing something he'd argue. Now that he was older, he thought maybe the circus was missing things and his parents substituting it the best they could.

He grabs the butter from the fridge and pulls back the wrapping to use the end of the stick on the biscuits. Damian hates when he does it 'unsanitary and gross', but come on, he has to do it as quickly as he can. They're also the only ones who have to eat here! Damians ghostly friends have been bringing back food from the real world for then to eat. He's trying not to wonder where their getting the food.

He grabs the honey jar and uses the fancy stick he can't remember the name of to spread the honey everywhere. He even puts some on his toast. He flips the last few pieces of suspicious looking fake bacon onto the resting plate. The Lunch Lady Ghost had brought for them saying he had to get protein somewhere, but if you ask him, it looks...iffy. He made extra biscuits just in case.

He loads the biscuits and toast on one plate and another for the fakon. He balances two cups of orange juice in one hand and holds the plate with his stomach and forearms. He nudges the slightly open door with his foot. The ghost dog 'Cujo' nips at his ankle and hopps around his feet excitedly.

"Down boy." He jokes half-heartedly. The dog takes his command very seriously and lays on the ground tongue halfway out his mouth. His wagging tail is undeterred by the wood intangiblely sweeping through in wide arcs. Damian is asleep under the covers his body to used to his footsteps to register as a danger anymore. He's trying his best to treat this as a vacation instead of getting used to it, but he can't help but admit he'd love to do this every morning. Making breakfast for them every morning, coming home or driving to pick him up every afternoon, no longer making do with calls and canceled weekends.

"Dami... wakey wakes, eggs, and bakey..." he sings, rubbing his shoulder. He sets the orange juice and plates on their one nightstand next to the baby 101 book they probably all read in Robin training already. He grabs his toast and a biscuit off the plate.

"Five more minutes..."No can do, baby. We've got a busy day today." Dami groans and rubs his face. His hair is much longer than three and a half months ago, no longer under Alfred's tutelage or gels, and now free to curl. He can't resist the temptation and runs his hand through the wild curls. Damian swats his hand away without any real heat, and he jumps on the bed, crawling over Damian and informing his squawk of protest to his side of their bed.

Damian sits up and snatches a biscuit and the baby name book underneath the other book. He pushes the book across the bed without a word.

"Did you find what you wanted? I thought you were going with Dan and Ellie. Like before." He notices a paper sticking out of the book, and he opens to that page. A small paper with Damis fancy scribbling is sticking out.

Dante Jasmine

Eleanor Richard

He sucks in a harsh breath.

"I-I had a rough time deciding on either Dante or Jordan. But I thought he'd like Dante more, you know. Do-do you like it? The names? Is it... okay?" Damian places a hand on his stomach where their cores are resting. They're growing stronger by day. Damian had let him hold his hand there just last night and feel them kicking? Pulsing? It was hard to tell, but Frostbite assured them it was normal and that any day now, they'd phase out. Frostbite had said that ghosts barely incubated for more than a month it only took so long because both the cores and Damian were weaker.

"It would be an honor. To have her named after me. And if Frostbite was right, both of them." Damian smiles and takes a bit of the biscuit. He barely manages to keep the happy tears in.

"I wanted to talk to you about something else as well."

"What Dames?" The last word sounded more like 'duhs' after he started eating his biscuit.

"Tucker stopped by when you were out interagating the yetis yesterday." He blushed and stuffed the rest of the biscuit into his mouth. "He said Constantine was asking around at big leagues poker last week. They invite Tuck all the time, probably to suck up to the Big Guy in charge, you know.

"Since he's been looking after the throne for you?"Yeah, he's been doing a pretty good job. we'll probably revisit it when I'm older, but he said that he was looking for a pair of lost heroes."

"He described us?"

"Yeah, Tucker said it was pretty accurate, too. Even called in some favors. Tucker thinks he suspects something with the dimensions."

"Is he suspicious?"

" I don't think so, but Tuck said he pissed off some demons."

"Enough to go after him?"

"It's John Constantine. What do you think?" Damian said, folding his arms and squinting as if to say 'really?'.

"Fine. You're right. Should we help?"

"I'm sure the league will go after him if anything happens. I'll put some ghosts on the trail. Some cute blob ones, maybe." The league...Bruce.

"We should talk about Bruce." Damian looked away.

"What's there to talk about?" Dick scooted closer, catching a glance at the dog curled below damian on a pillow.

"Bruce loves you damian."

"You already said. God, you're starting to sound like a broke record. Did you know that?" Anger. It's easier to be angrier than admit you're scared. He'd know that well.

"It's true. I know you're worrying about it."

"Do you really think Father will undersrand? Understand them? Leave it alone?"

"You're his son, of course he can!"

"Am i? Am I his son? Or am I just another obligation? A reminder of his mistakes." Uncommon tears threaton to fall from Damians face. Reflecting in the early morning light.

"That's not true. He loves you." God, he was broken record.

"But does he like me? Does he really trust me?" Damian turned to him, fully letting him see the falling tears.

"Of course he likes you. You're his Robin and his son." He reached out a hand to wipe the tears from his face. His heart aches for his son.

Damian threw himself into his arms. His head made his way onto his neck and shoulder. Clutching and gripping his clothes. Dick grabs him and does his best tonadjust him into a healthier position to not hurt either one of them. There's a damp spot on his shoulder, but he ignores it.

"I'm your Robin too..."

"He's your dad, dami." He mutters into his hair. He uses his fingers to soothe the knots in his hair out as gently as he can.

"I wish-wish you were my real dad... not Bruce." Please don't say that. Please, you don't mean it. Damian starts sobbing and shudders against him. Shaking the both of them. He tries to soothe him. Rocking them back and forth.

"Dont say that. Don't do this to me -" He tries his best to get rid of the thoughts. Of them being actual father and son. Of him being able to take Damian home. Of not having to worry about Bruce's reminders that they're brothers. That he's Damians father, not him.

"You're his son." A reminder to himself just as much to Damian that he's Bruce's, not his. Damian just sobs louder. His heart breaks into pieces, and he tries to comfort him, rubbing circles into his shoulder blades. He turns his head and kisses his Baby Bats forehead. This angle allows him to see his face. It was soaked and reddened from the tears. Damian tries to bury himself closer to him.

"No-no..." Damians sobs into his arms. His jacket is drenched.