#like you know damn well while he was still in his 'if I keep trying he'll eventually have to acknowledge my existence' phase with nico

[kaisentine]

is the mikage corp’s heir trying to steal your man? you know that he probably is.

purple is a unique color, purple is a noticeable hair color, purple is a striking eye color, purple is the color you can see from your peripheral vision when nagi is snuggling up against your side.

“sei . . . did you invite mikage?” you lean down to whisper in his ear—referring to reo as mikage because you aren’t at all close at him nor do you think he likes you. anyway, nagi didn’t mention anything about inviting his best friend today.

he’s too lazy to look at you to respond but you see the way his head just barely moves when he opens his mouth, “nope.” he matches the volume of your voice. so was this considered a break in or . . ?

you fight the urge to cling onto nagi like a koala because reo just keeps . . . staring. “sei, he’s literally in your apartment.” you deadpan as quietly as possible whilst trying to keep audible for him to hear because you know damn well he’s about to fall asleep right on you shoulder.

this time, he moves his head to look up at you. then his eyes start wandering off to the side—did he finally see him? you get the answer when he starts speaking. “reo? why’re you here?” he asks the purple haired male—not bothering to mention how he got in because nagi was the one who gave him the keys.

finally, he actually steps out of the shadows. he looks scary like this, giving you a deadly glare. “sorry, did i interrupt? i was just going to check in on you.” he quickly switches up when answering your boyfriend. obviously he interrupted something . . . but to your dismay, nagi only shakes his head.

the night ends with nagi sandwiched by two people: his very lovely amazing partner and reo.

it feels like you’re in a constant competition with mikage reo. the way you lowkey have to fight with him to snag the place beside nagi.

you and reo glare at each other as soon as you guys see the vacant spot on nagi’s left side. it’s gonna be a race that reo wins, you know that for sure—you’re not even gonna try to win against a freaking scary 6’1 soccer player.

so while he is fast walking to his best friend’s side, you’re taking slow strides to catch up. it’s only a matter of seconds before he sits his ass down triumphantly in victory—you roll your eyes at him. when you do get to the destination, you’re giving him the “i��m gonna win in the end anyway” type of glare.

nagi obviously doesn’t care,he probably doesn’t even know what just transpired because he’s still on his phone playing some video game.

“sei, you’re still on that game?” you ask, standing on the other side beside him. he hums as a little yes to your question, you let out a fake chuckle. “you’ve been playing for too long, i wanted to show you something.” you pout and almost direct an evil grin to reo but stop because nagi pauses his game to look at you, grey eyes lazily staring back at you. “what’d you wanna show me?” he’s interested now, he hates surprises because it’s too much of a hassle to think about what it could be. “it’s in your bedroom,” you put an innocent smile at the end and he’s already jumping out of his chair. when you’re both leaving reo to sulk on the counter, you turn back to flash him a devious smile—the one you intended to give him the first time.

“we’ll be right back,” said nagi.

you guys were in-fact not right back.

reo later found you guys sleeping on nagi’s bed, bodies all up against each other.

i don’t think nagi understands the phrase “bros before hoes” nor does he understand “hoes before bros”. . . he doesn’t really care—he’s too lazy to give a fuck.

sticky note. i feel like nagi is lowkey a red flag or probably a yellow ( beige??? ) flag . . .

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

Magical Misguided

{Song Jinwoo / Reader}

{Magical Girl AU. Aight so, ya’ll know magical girl genre? Cool now add Solo Leveling and here’s where i’m going with this.}

-

Placing the heart shaped sticker on the envelope, you hold it close. Nervously glancing back at where Sung Jinwoo sat as he nibbles at his lunch. Trying to find your confidence in the desolate halls on the campus grounds. You fiddle with the uniform before a voice calls out to you. 

“Miss (L/N).”

A familiar voice calls out, you pause in your stewing. Glancing over at the male that stood a few feet in front of you. You blink, before smiling politely. “M-Mister Fairy! I m-mean, um Mister Woo Jinchul… Is there something wrong?”

The male, dressed in a professional suit and glasses stood out like swore thumb. You felt sweat on your brow as he nodded. “We’ve detected a strong presence near by, another gate we assume. Were not sure when it will open, but soon. The Shadow Monarch never makes his presence this well known, keep an eye out.”

You freeze, “w..wha?” You blink, knowing that The Shadow Monarch often sends out his generals. You didn’t know what they were searching for, but they follow their kings command.

Mister Fairy- Er Woo Jinchul sighs, “I trust that you will be alert? We already informed-”

“Yes, I… Understand.”

Mister Fairy- Er Woo Jinchul sighs, nodding to you as he walks away. 

While you understood, you were more focused on the task at hand!

“Everytime I try to confess, something always pops up! But not this time!”

Determined, you straighten up. Closing your eyes, you give a small peck to the letter for good-luck, head held high, you march forward into the classroom. “SUNG JINW-wooo…?” Opening your eyes, you stumble when realizing the boy wasn’t even in the damn room!

“Oh, you’re looking for Sung?” The class representative, questions. His glasses glinting in the light, smile teasing. “He just left, why, did you… NEED him for something? I’ll happily relay the message. Even after you disrupted our class lunch period…”

You tearfully eye the other students looking at you like a huge dunce..

“N-No… Um, I’ll go!”

Rushing out of the room, you run into the girls bathroom. Panting like a dog as you hold back your humiliated whines. Noticing the open window, you get closer. Hoping the sunny breeze will clear your mind.  

“I swear he was just there! Did I miss? Augh… “

Envelope still clutched in your hand, had half the mind to rip it apart…

FWOOSH-!

“KYAAAA!!!”

“AHHHH! WHAT IS THAT THING!!?”

Gasping, you watch as a blue and black portal opens in the middle of the sports field. Gapping at the creature, you shove the envelope away calling out your phrase as glitter and sparkles envelope you.

-

Falling onto your knees, you wince at the cuts littering your legs. Eyeing the creature shrouded in darkness, weapon holding you up as your teeth grind together in exhaustion. 

Frills and ribbons barely held together on your costume, you watch it slow down it’s pace. Now standing still..?

After each battle you tried to offer words of reassurance to each general before they slinked away back into the shadows. But something felt… Off.

Ignoring the feeling, you watch as the general moves forward again. Raising it’s weapon about to land a strike-!

“Cease.”

Standing proud and tall, shrouded in a cloak and fine attire. He stalks forward, shadows whipping around him protectively. “And here I thought I told you all to go easy on them…” 

Paying the small shadows no mind, he leans- no kneels like a gentleman. Holding out a gloved hand out towards you, he places his free hand above his heart. 

He tests out your name with ease,  his eyes glowing a bright blue. Grinning almost kindly as he patiently waits for you to take his hand.

You frown, not entranced by his kind demeanor. You were not someone who could be tricked easily. Your heart won’t be swayed from Sung Jinwoo! 

Already imagining his messy hair and sweet grin as you walk with him to his class. Helping him carry his books to his next class.. His body rather small and often labeled as the weakest student on campus! As if! Sung Jinwoo was strong in his way,he didn’t need muscles to prove it! 

You glare at him, but not want to be rude. You take his hand, gripping it tightly in a firm handshake. You don’t release your gaze as he smiles. “Hmm… It seems I’ll have to cut our conversation short..” Bringing up your knuckles his lips, he gently presses a soft kiss. 

He releases you, standing to his full height as moves away. Summoning his general back, he doesn’t look back as the portal swallows him whole.

-

Wincing at the ointment applied to your skin, a bandaged was applied over the cut. Jinwoo gulps as he frets over your. “S-sorry..” He mumbles. “I-I’ll be more gentle, promise.” 

“I-IT’s.. Uhm, FiNE!” Dabbing more ointment on your other cuts, he sighs. “ W-what exactly happened? My class rep said that you were looking for me… D-did you.. Need something?”

This was your chance!!

“Yeah! Y-yes.. Just a bit of your time!” Digging through your pockets, you tap them once, twice… They were still empty.

“...” 

Jinwoo tilts his head curiously, confused.

“I… Uh.. Left it somewhere. B-but.. I might as well tell you now.”

Gazing deeply into his sapphire blue eyes, you steel your nerves. “Sung Jinwoo…” You speak seriously, his attention solely focused on you.

“Y..Yes?”

“Will you-”

A phone call rings between you two, Jinwoo yelps. His hands flying towards his pockets, fumbling over his phone as he picks up.

“Y-yes? Song speaking!”

Soft murmurs were on the other line as Jinwoo nods, even if the caller couldn’t even see him. He hangs up right after. Eyeing you with a guilty look. “I have to go.. Jinah needs me-”

“YEAH- No, I understand.” You cough, scooting away from him as you hop off the chair. Not daring to meet his eyes, “I’ll see you later! Song!"

You run out of the room, the only piece left of you to show you where in the room at all was the cotton swab that had a bit of your blood on it. You… Didn’t think it’d be best to confess quite yet.But there's always another chance!

Throwing away the used items, Jinwoo cleans up the area before leaving, the sunset reflecting from his eyes. As if they glowed a bright blue…

-

(ANOTHER Silly idea I had! If anyone wants to add on or have idea for this small Au. I’m open to suggestions!)

[dollyzdaydreamz]

Arthur Morgan x Reader:

A Clearer View

Description: High Honor Arthur Morgan x Dutch's daughter Reader Turns out, you’re not a terrible shot: you’re just blind. After Dutch chews you out for missing targets during a train heist, Arthur takes it upon himself to ‘fix’ the problem which brings a whole lot of unsolicited observations about Arthur Morgan. ⚠️Warnings: guns, knives, humor, fluff, Dutch being stubborn, John being annoying (✿◕‿◕✿)

i don't own any of the rdr2 characters, they belong to Rockstar (≧▽≦)

inspired by this fanfic I stumbled across. it is a masterpiece 🤌🏻

The first time you miss a shot in the middle of a train heist, you tell yourself it’s the high winds drafting over the area (it is elevated terrain, after all). The second time, you blame the gun. You haven’t cleaned it in a while (seeing as gun oil has been sold out lately). But by the third time, when your bullet strays wide and Dutch’s expression hardens as he turns to you amidst the gunfire, there’s no excuse to be made other than the fact that you simply cannot see from that far. Instead, you opt for pulling out your knife and taking down the gunmen from behind.

After the men have been cleared out, your father gathers everyone, giving each person instructions. Lenny, Arthur, and Micah are to search the train cars for valuables: money, jewelry, bonds. Even Bill has a task. As the group separates, you turn to your father.

“Well, what can I do?”

Dutch scoffs. “Well, exactly! What can you do?”

Ouch.

“If Arthur didn’t have you covered, you’d be dead!”

Your stomach knots as you lower your head.

He falters, his tone softening just slightly. “What is going on with you, Y/N?”

“I don’t know. I-”

“You don’t know?” His voice sharpens again, and suddenly, he’s right in front of you, eyes filled with something between disappointment and frustration. “Y/n, we don’t get to ‘not know’ in this life, do you understand?”

You swallow and nod.

He shakes his head, turning away. “Sort yourself out. Go back to camp and get some rest.”

As he stalks off, you exhale shakily, jaw clenching to keep the sting of frustration at bay.

Arthur leans against the crate he's just finished looting, arms crossed, watching, but unlike Dutch, his expression isn’t one of disappointment. After a few more days of watching you squint at distant things, tilting your head like a damn lost dog, he finally decides to do something.

A week later, he rides back into camp from Saint Denis as the sunsets over camp. You’re busy sitting at the little table outside your tent, cleaning your revolver, when a small bundle is tossed into your lap.

“Here.”

You catch it instinctively, looking down to see a rectangular box wrapped in blue velvet cloth. Frowning, you glance up. “What’s this?”

“Glasses.”

You blink. “Glasses?”

“Yeah. For seein" he clarifies, "y’know, that thing you ain’t been doin’ so well lately.”

You smile, about to thank him, but you falter when a warning finger meets your face “Now, I—I stole ‘em on that train, so don’t go thinkin’ I’m soft or nothin."

You huff a laugh but unwrap the bundle carefully. Inside, several pairs of frames sit nestled in their case, "That' why these are all marked with Sam's Spectacle Shop, Saint Denis?" you ask, feigning ignorance.

"Shut up." he huffs half-heartedly, sitting down beside you as you pick up the first pair and slide them on, only to immediately grimace at how the world bends strangely around you.

Arthur watches as you try another, then another, until finally-

You still.

Everything kind of sharpens. The blurred greens of the trees become distinct leaves, each serrated edge visible. The grass at your feet is no longer just a vague smear of green but individual blades, shifting with the evening wind. And when you turn your gaze to Arthur-

You hesitate.

For the first time, you notice things you hadn’t before. The speckle of green in his otherwise blue eyes, and the white strands in his hair underneath all the brown locks, something you find oddly charming. His face flushes slightly under the brim of his hat, clearly flustered at you studying him the way one might examine a painting in better light.

“You know, you’ve got some white hairs,” you blurt out, motioning to the side of his head.

Arthur furrows his brows at the uncalled-for observation before you begin to backtrack, realizing that might sound offensive.

“No, I mean-” you sputter. “It looks nice. Makes you look...uhm-mature, seasoned.” You gesture vaguely with a sarcastic grin.

He scoffs, reminded of the way Dutch sells him on some awfully thought-out, spur-of-the-moment plan, letting his body language do the work.

Arthur shakes his head, "Well, you sure are an odd girl," he says, getting up. But you catch a peak of that small smile tugging at his lips as he walks off, muttering something about those “Damned Van der Linde's."

Just as you’re about to head to your father’s tent, John, still recovering from his facial injuries, ambles over with Abigail.

“Well, ain’t this something? You look even more like a dork now,” he chuckles, pushing your glasses up further on your nose, a bit rougher than intended, making your head snap back. Abigail smacks his hand away, "John Marston, you rotten man! I think you look just fine, honey."

"Why thank you, Abigail," you say, shooting John a glare, "I can see a lot more clearly now."

Before John can utter another word, you speak up again, “And you’re uglier than I thought. Damn shame, really.”

John snorts out a laugh, “Tell me somethin’ I don’t know,” he hollers as he walks away with a giggling Abigail, waving you goodbye as they head towards their tent for the night.

You push open the lapels of your father’s tent with a mockingly stern expression, letting your framed eyes peruse the space. He’s busy looking over a map with Hosea, likely discussing a new lead. Dutch lifts his head, and for a fleeting moment, an almost imperceptible flash of guilt for scolding you earlier in the week crosses his face when he realizes it’s you.

“What’s this? Some new fashion trend?” he chuckles, motioning vaguely to your eyes.

“No,” you huff, taking a few steps closer. “Apparently, I’m not incapable of shooting-I’m just… somewhat blind.”

Dutch turns his head back to the map, unwilling to apologize just yet. “A damn shame.”

Hosea lifts his head up and flashes you a familiar, warm smile amidst the chill of the tent, "Those suit you! Where'd you buy them?" "I didn't, Arthur said he 'stole 'em for me'" you say with air quotes and Hosea chuckles,

"Terrible liar that brute is, their clearly brand new," he muses. You hand them over to him so he can inspect them more closely, before he gingerly puts them back on your face.

"I’m hoping you can get back to being one of our sharpest shooters.” he grins, nudging the revolver strapped to your waist,

“And I’m sure some people will regret doubting your abilities,” he adds, giving Dutch a pointed look to which he waves off with an inaudible murmur as he stares at the map.

“Ahh, come on, Father. I know that apology’s coming around eventually,” you say, giving him a rough pat on his hunched back. Beside him, you take notice to the oil lamp illuminating his makeshift library shelf.

“It better,” you hear Hosea say as you snatch one of the neatly organized books, knowing your father hates when you do that.

“Y/N!” Dutch finally yells, getting up from his seat, as you scurry out of his tent and back into your own with some new reading material to share with Mary-Beth.

The next morning, you and Arthur ride out after turning a bounty into the sheriffs office just for the heck of it, the sun casting long shadows over the valley. You glance at him sideways, noticing the faint freckles dusting his nose and cheeks, barely visible beneath all the dirt.

"You know… you have freckles," you mutter, getting a better look at them.

Arthur lets out a breath of laughter, leaning away from your pressing gaze. "Jesus. We doin’ this again?"

"I'm just sayin" you raise your hands in defense, "I never saw ‘em before."

A little sign marked in white paint comes into view a few meters ahead, and you realize that, without Arthur’s gift, you wouldn’t have been able to read it.

“First one to that sign wins!” you blurt out, not giving Arthur a chance to react before spurring your horse into a sprint.

“Wha—hey! Get back here, woman!” Arthur hollers before tugging his reins. “Shoulda left her blind,” he mutters.

But behind all his grumbling, he doesn’t seem to mind your new discoveries one bit.

dividers by @enchanthings-as on tumblr:) images found on pinterest but collaged by me

[thezombieprostitute]

how does domestic lloyd do valentine's day?

Summary: You and Lloyd on Valentine's Day.

Warnings: Smut. Please let me know if I missed any!

Series Masterlist

Lloyd wakes up slowly. His brain takes its time registering the bright the room is. As soon as he does, he startles awake. You must have slept through your alarms! He's gotta get you up and get into the kitchen to make you breakfast!

As he turns to wake you up he's stopped in his tracks but the sight before him. You're laying on your side, head propped up on your arm, wearing a red sheer lace lingerie set that had hearts barely covering your nipples.

"'Bout time you woke up, handsome," you tease. "Decided to surprise you by taking the day off, letting you sleep in. You didn't even stir when I got out of bed to change into this."

"You sexy vixen," Lloyd purrs. He goes to roll on top of you but you push him onto his back and straddle him.

"Nuh uh, sexy," you giggle. "You take such good care of my every day. Today, I'm gonna take care of you."

"So long as you promise to put this mustache to good use," he smirks.

"Why on earth would I deny myself your second greatest feature?" you exclaim as your hips over crotch.

It's after noon by the time you and Lloyd get out of bed. Well, "crawl out of bed" might be more accurate. You and Lloyd are always insatiable for each other. If it weren't for your stomachs growling you'd likely stay in bed all day.

Lloyd puts on his apron and smiles the whole time he cooks you up a little something. You enjoy the show, watching his muscles as he moves, enjoying how his butt cheeks jiggle just right. You want to smack them so bad but you have to refrain while he's cooking.

"You are such a tease," you comment.

"Damn right," he snickers as he moves almost close enough to where you could grab his butt. "And you love it."

"I love you," you retort.

"And I love you, too," he winks before getting back to cooking. "So did you have any other surprises for me today?"

"Well, only if you're up for it," you goad.

Lloyd turns off the burners and plates the food. Taking off the apron, you give a whistle as he turns to face you. He's only got one plate for the food so you know what's going to happen. He sits on his favorite chair and pulls you to sit on his lap.

"Pretty sure I'll be up for a lot of things by the time we're done eating," he quips in your ear. You take a bite and moan while melting into him. "Especially if you keep acting like that."

"Not my fault you're such a good cook," you gently poke him. "Almost a better cook than you are a lover. Almost."

You alternate bites for you and Lloyd as his hands gently massage your legs, sore from the morning's activities. Despite going at it all morning, you feel Lloyd harden underneath you, making you wet. Occasionally you'll grind your hips against him, making him moan and groan for you. Once or twice he nips at your neck, calling you out on your teasing.

When the food is gone Lloyd follows up on your conversation from the kitchen. "What was the other stuff you had in mind?"

"You mean besides you stuffing me in multiple ways?" you wink. "I was thinking we could go to Amelia's and I'd try on anything and everything you chose."

Lloyd's hands freeze and he growls softly in your ear, "anything and everything?"

"I'm not saying I'll buy any of it," you amend. "I still say it's high priced stripper clothes. But I'll be happy to put on a show for you."

"Fuck, you're trying to kill me. But what a way to go." Lloyd forces you up on your feet as he bends you over the table. "Gotta work out a few more before we go or else I'm taking you in the changing room."

"Wouldn't be the first time," you chuckle.

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @kmc1989; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[juullllssss]

Selected

prev Part 2

TW: Kidnapping, Manipulation

The next time the door opens another man enters. Were the other was handsome in a rough, boyish way this one is straight up beautiful. More like a model then a kidnapper. Again everyone receives their food portion. For all that it's worth the food is delicious, in another situation you would have been thankful for a home made meal.

The other women don't talk to you, seemingly stuck in their own thoughts but you don't mind that much. Your mind is working overtime, trying to find a way out of this situation. There is not much else to do anyway. For now you are to exhausted to put up a fight. You will try to bid your time. Maybe even gain the trust of one of the men.

The next time both men step in, right behind them another men. First you didn't even register what you saw. In the dim light he appeared like a shadow, he was even taller then the other two men. They step in front of the three of you, opening your chains. And as luck would have it, the man with the mohawk is the one in front of you.

"Ye must 'ave been scared, bonnie, be'ave an we will take care of ya, aye?" You stay silent, looking at him like a prey at a predator, trying to figure out what will happen to you all. His hands are calloused again confirming your suspicion that he must have some kind of job which requires a lot of hard labor.

The men bring you up the stairs. In front of you, you can hear one of the women crying. Maybe the red head, you had heard her before. You had played with the thought of talking to her, she seemed so scared the past days. But her gaze never swayed in your direction. You wondered if someone from your friends was already searching for you. How many days had it been? Was your family worried? Shit you didn't tell anyone where you were going.

It seems the room you were staying in was in reality a basement, connected to a huge house. The men guided you through a kitchen passing into a hallway. Dragging you into the room on the other side, which seemed to be the living room. And there on a big couch sat another men. You were scared of the others before but seeing the man sitting on the couch, waiting for your arrival, did something else to you. You could not make out if you were in awe or stuck in terror. He waited, like a king would wait on his subjects. Gaze firm, with a air around him that screamed authority. He was leaning forward his elbows resting on his thick thighs. The other Men lined you up, you held your breath waiting what would happen next.

The eyes of the older man drifted over the three of you, studying, judging. the red haired women was still crying but not saying anything, not wanting to repeat what happend to the first women. The black haired women was silent, looking down, you could swear her jaw would break if she clenched any harder. Then the man on the couch spoke up. "You must be wondering what you are doing here, i 'm Captain John Price, these are my men, Johnny, Kyle and Simon." He gestured to the men behind you, in the order of their names. "you were picked by us, we wanted.. to know more about you...." He seems to keep his words wage, trailing of in the end. For a moment you think you heard him wrong, what did that even mean? With a quick look to the other women you made up your mind, he told them his and his men names, that must mean something right?

"You are not trafficker's? What does all this mean?" You try to keep your words steady, strong. You nearly apologize when 'Johns' Gaze lands on you. Lucky for you he doesn't seem to take offense to your questions, a small smile on his face. "No, we won't give you away and it means that you will live here for a while... until everything is decided." Again some wage answer in the end. Why did that sound so threatening? But for now it doesn't sound like they would hurt you, well not all of them. With a quick look back you can see this 'Johnny' smiling back at you. Damn if you didn't know what he can do you could be fooled by that killer smile.

John emphasized that nothing would happen as long as you all behaved, promising to take care of every need. Well every need except freedom of course. A 'Hypocrite' floods through your mind at that. This time it is the model 'Kyle' taking you by the arm and guiding you towards the stairs upwards. How big was this house? You tried being discreet while looking around, mapping out the house inside your head. Apparently not discreet enough, a press on your arm makes you look up to Kyle, "Don't even think about it, lovie. Believe me we are faster." His gaze is nearly pleading, mixed with his soft brown eyes it gives you the feeling he was disappointed in you. for a moment you feel guilt bubble in you, before giving yourself a imaginary pinch. Is this what Stockholm Syndrom is?

Your mood is already a lot better after a long, hot shower. Scrubbing the dirt away makes you feel like a brand new women. You could nearly ignore this whole situation, but a knock from your "bodyguard" brings you back. When you step out in your new clothes, Kyles eyes drag over you appreciatively. "Looking good in our clothes, they suit you." Suddenly you had the urge to strip everything of again.

He guides you towards the end of the hallway. With a apologetic smile he turns towards you, "For now you will all stay together, try to get some sleep, must have been a hard time" His words sound so sweet and again you have to remind yourself that this is on of your captors. Then he closes the door behind you. With the sound of a lock you are again captive.

[hammerhead-jpg]

Lazy ahh doodles of some of the other pjo characters cuz they need some love too

[imblocking-you]

As a Kaleidoscope of Death enjoyer, I'm really having fun with the vibes the Dreadful Night world is offering

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Ring of Rage? More Like Ring of Engage

The thing is, Tim didn't mean to put it on. He was just kind of playing with it to keep his hands busy while he was thinking about the recent murder case. GCPD had their hands full with the serial robbers that didn't rank high enough to catch Batman's attention, and Tim never had a problem with helping the police if he had time.

And the ring was a perfect fidget toy, if he is being honest. Small and plain enough not to distract him, but the round stone in the middle was loosely attached, making it able to spin inside the frame. Which is what he did, again and again, like those fidget spinners.

Of course, he was just destined to drop it sooner or later. And then, when he reached under the table to pick it up, his finger caught inside the ring, and, well.

The ring was now firmly on his finger.

The problem was that he couldn't take it off.

It wasn't stuck, at least not in the general sense of it - Tim could easily spin it around, and it wasn't tight. But it wasn't loose either, and as soon as he tried to move it past the knuckle, the ring heavily disagreed, almost like shrinking down and absolutely refusing to be detached.

Barbara suggested soap, which didn't work. Dick tried for a more mechanical approach, first with pliers and then with a laser, which the ring resisted with no effort. Cass, who was actually the one who brought the damned thing into the Cave after one of her adventures in Hong Kong, just smiled and shrugged, which was of no help either. Damian offered to cut the finger off, which probably would have helped, but Tim rather liked all his limbs attached.

Bruce called Constantine. The magician took one look at the ring, barked a humorless laugh, and pat Tim on the shoulder sympathetically.

"Congrats, mate," he said, a wry smile on his lips, "I hope you file for divorce."

Although, while all the rest of the Bats and Birds devolved into fits of hysterical laughter (Steph), indignant sputtering (Damian), and cries of outrage (everyone else sans Alfred, who was pointedly unimpressed), Tim couldn't even bring himself to be surprised. Really, his life had been a shitshow since he was around ten. It's not like he didn't expect himself to be accidentally married to some otherworldly magical creature by this point.

The worst part - worse than the actual engagement, that is - was that Constantine couldn't exactly tell them who the spouse was.

What he did say was that the Ring belonged to the King of Infinite Realms, Keeper of Unseen Worlds, and Eyes of Universe. But those were only titles, and, as John Constantine begrudgingly admitted, there has been a change in the management recently, so no one really knew what the new almighty monarch looked like or what they were, much less their whereabouts.

"You can't blame me for not being keen to find out, though," John said, wincing, "The last one was a bloody tyrant, and the Realms operate under the right of conquest rule."

At least, the mage assured them that since the being had not yet come to collect their shiny new spouse, they might never show up at all. The Ring has been lost for ages after all, so maybe the King didn't even remember having one. Or, the previous King didn't, and the new one didn't know about or didn't care.

The first week after the incident, they spent anxiously researching and worrying. Bruce even went as far as making Tim wear a tracker at all times, which was not great, but he did appreciate the gesture. Kind of.

After the first month with no sign of any changes, the worry started to abate. In half a year, most of the family stopped trying to keep an eye on Tim at all times lest he suddenly disappeared. Two years later, even Tim himself treated the Ring as a natural part of his daily life. The stone inside was still a great fidget toy, engagement or not.

Three years, one month, and five days after Tim first put the Ring on his finger, when the world was falling apart and breaking in front of him and there was not a single thing he could do to stop it anymore, Tim pressed his lips to the cold, dark strip of unknown metal on his finger.

"Whoever you are, I don't even care, please," he whispered in a useless prayer, his voice hoarse and his throat dry, "please, help."

And the world came to a stop with a short, amused chuckle.

"Oh, I thought you'd never ask."

[part 2 ->]

[fmhobeus]

so, nerdy loser college boy choso *sighs* *opens legs*

a/n: just so you know, this man is gonna make you do all the hard work for a piece of that loser boy dick 😮‍💨 so... um so at some point around 2000 words in i realised this is way more than a hc post :3 eat it up if you will!

nerdy!choso who borderline has no friends except his gaming buddies who doesnt meet irl like ever. he doesnt like going to classes, especially this one. he doesnt need it but it's a requirement for all first years. and boy is glad it is when he sees you come in.

nerdy!choso who only listens to discussions when you're talking. suddenly he needs to put down his headphones and nod at every word you're saying. his eyes follow every gesture of your hand, every sway of your ass, every single time you fix your hair.

nerdy!choso who is starting to get a bit enamored with you, your style, your way of speaking. he loses track of time gawking at you in class from the last benches as you prettily do all the work in the class. he hates how beautifully your hair falls on your face, how nicely your clothes fit you despite being pretty modest for college. he hates how he can see the silhouette of your tits when you turn to the side. but he's too much of a gentleman to keep looking.

nerdy!choso who ends a game early when he remembers you, lying and saying that he had promised someone to meet them somewhere. the place is his bathroom and the person was you. god, you really shouldn't wear those tight jeans to class y'know? how will he continue to be a gentleman if you do?

nerdy!choso who despises groupwork but prays to dear god this class has some reason to pair you two together. he's getting so desperate to talk to you knowing damn well he too pussy to do it on his own. and the lord answers his prayers, the teacher assigns groups of three for a presentation. it's you, him and some slacking trust fund baby.

nerdy!choso who is about to combust and have a full blown panic attack when he sees you approach him after class with that smile on your face that would make the angels swoon. you're going on about distributing the work equally and what not while he is trying his fucking hardest to not accidently make eye contact with you and piss his pants : (

nerdy!choso who now has your name, your number and your email and he feels like the happiest man on earth. his hands are literally shaking as he responds to your request to call. he's overthinking every word he types.

choso: yeah i can do wednesday. choso: i'll be okay with whatever day you want.

nerdy!choso who hops on video call and short circuits with a view of you in an oversized band tee and a brief view of your room. why did you have to be this pretty? why did you have to video call him when you couldve done the work on text? why did you have to put your hair up like that? why oh why did you have you say "choso? hey, you there?" so seductively to bring him back to the present?

nerdy!choso who gets like no work done in a 30 minute call which felt like three hours. he knew he would hardly be paying attention so decided to record the call with your consent, saying he'd need the notes you were typing out on screen only to play it back and stroke his dick to you for what might've have been the twentieth time this week. his strokes only getting faster as you say his name in that voice he imagines sounds way better moaning and screaming it instead.

nerdy!choso who, after the presentation, is on greeting terms with you when he sees you studying in the library. he sits as far away from you as he can while still being able to see you. occupying the coziest corner of the library to stare at you study right when you come up to him.

"can i join you, choso? i'm all alone and your space seems comfy" you say with a smile, "of course, i dont mean to disturb you, is saw you were on your own too, so..."

uh oh, uh oh, uh oh. god no. please no. please dont say yes. please dont be staring at her like some dumb idiot (too late) please.

"uh... yeah sure why not?" he awkwardly says as he makes room for you to keep your things. he was such an idiot for thinking he could say no to your pretty face in the first place.

nerdy!choso who is absolutely drunk on your scent. it feels way better than any alcohol he's ever had. he feels like an animal in heat when he smells your sugary perfume mixed with the styrofoam-y air conditioned smell of the library. you're gonna kill him, yknow? how is he supposed to respond to this? what is one to do when their stupid college crush sits next to them? he gives you a half smile before furiously typing away on reddit, the only place with answers for losers like him.

nerdy!choso whose hands. oh his hands. (can be i a big whore for a second?) his long hands that feel like they're the size of your face. his kempt, beautiful and trimmed nails. his lengthy fingers that seem to yearn for something more to foddle with than just the keyboard or controller. he typed as such an insane pace it made your pussy ache. he was going so fast, jesus. those hands were meant to do more than just ask "how to talk to girls" on reddit.

nerdy!choso who (on the advice of reddit) asks if you would want him to order something for you. you tell you had a frappuccino not too long ago and that it was quite sweet and filling. and he hates himself for thinking that he could give you something much sweeter and filling than that like a horny fourteen year old.

nerdy!choso who is now determined to not come off as a creep so he does his work with the focus of four adderalls. he is typing as fast as his heartbeat, not realising he got two classes worth of work done in just an hour. he looks over at you, blissfully unaware of the absolute war in his mind.

nerdy!choso who feels as though if he doesn't muster up the courage to ask you out right then and there, he'll probably be the biggest loser on the planet. (as if he wasn't already)

nerdy! pathetic! choso who stutters a million times and barely gets the job done then too. his eyes are scanning your entire being (trying his best to not gawk at your tits) for any sign of discomfort.

"so- uhh so ummm... wo-would you, like, uh... like to do this again? sometime?... i got a.. a lot of work done today, so.."

oh heavens, the sheer nervousness in his tone makes you want to pull his pants down and show him how to really get work done.

you agree with a smile, even suggesting a better, more ambient (more romantic) cafe to study in. choso's heart is about to burst and flood the fucking library with his blood the way it is beating at an alarming rate.

"umm yeah uh 5 sounds... awesome... i hope it isn't a-a bother to you?" "no way, choso. i loved today," you offer him a smile as you gather your things, "i really like your hair, by the way" "i like your hair too, y-y-you smell very nice", he gulps.

fuck. why did he say that? what? you smell nice? who says that? is he like ten? you can't help but giggle at the sheer embarassment on his face.

he feels as though he's gonna melt into a puddle and turn to stone and throw up all at the same time.

nerdy!choso who is the most stupidly hot guy you've ever met, you think as you go giggling back to your dorm. mental note: pick a skimpy outfit for 5pm ;)

[buckyalpine]

40s Sergeant Barnes with a nurse and a Sergeant kink (and breeding and house wife kink, virginity loss). This was supposed to be a pure smutty drabble but then I got in my feelings and added some fluff and angst but I promise Bucky is still a dirty, nasty little fuck in this. Just with a sweeter ending. The one he deserves.

Listen just imagine what a cute, sexy menace Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes would be just waking up from an injury when his eyes flutter open to the pretty nurse he’s been eyeing from the day he started. You’re not a shy, dainty little thing, nope. Not at all.

You bark out orders like a drill Sergeant and one glare from you is all it takes to get everyone in line and on task without a second thought. Even his superiors are scared of you, biting their tongue when you stitch them up and send them on their way before running off to your next patient.

Bucky was in love.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” he rasps, throwing you a charming smirk while you roll your eyes in response, shaking your head. "How'd I get so lucky, got a my little angel tendin' to me"

“I see your injury hasn’t stopped hurt that mouth of yours Sergeant" You quirk an eyebrow while he playfully huffs as you change the dressing covering a gash on his abdomen. You swab the area clean and he doesn't flinch even though you know it must burn like hell, his muscles tensed while he continues to watch you with heart eyes. "Now you know I'm not your little angel, I got 20 other men to fix up, you better be out of this bed as soon as you're all healed up"

“C’mon sugar, you're breakin' my heart" Bucky gives you a little pout with those perfect lips and you catch the twinkle in his eye as he looks over your form with complete admiration. He loved your sassy, take no shit attitude and it's taking everything in him to calm himself down so he doesn't get a hard on right there in front of you.

"You'd tell that to a cat with three legs if it was in a nurses outfit" You try your best to not give into his flirty comments and puppy eyes, knowing damn well he's a heart breaker but he makes it so difficult when he continues to woo you with his boyish charm.

He can't help but chase after you; catching the way your eyes always dart around with anxiety when his group returns from an operation, relief flooding them when you finally spot him. He loves your indifferent attitude, patting him down to make sure he's uninjured but your furrowed brows and the tiny pout on your lips give away that you're worried.

How can he just let you go. Every time you check over him, he needs you closer.

So much closer.

-

"Ms. y/l/n, Sergeant Barnes is requesting you in his tent, he says it's urgent"

You shake your head looking over at the time, quietly making your way over to the tent he's stationed at, thankful that a number of troops were sleeping so you wouldn't be seen as you quickly slip inside.

“And what hurts now” you sass with your hands on your hips seeing the soldier in perfect health, doing your best to assess him without letting him know.

"Always checkin' over me" Bucky chuckles, seeing what you're doing; his words making your cheeks heat up, "Knew you cared about me sugar"

"Well what am I doin' here" You give him an unconvincing huff, struggling to keep your voice steady, refusing to meet his eyes, keeping your gaze on his silver dog tags instead. It doesn't help that he's handsome as hell with a light dusting of scruff covering his cheeks. Bucky's never seen you flustered before and it evokes something in him, all the blood in his body rushing south seeing your fingers twitch.

All he wanted to do was kiss you but now-

“Help your Sergeant out doll” He whispers, taking another step forward till his chest brushes against yours, his hand coming to tilt your chin up, "Will you?"

You gasp feeling his hardness press against your thigh, your heart fluttering wildly as his thumb traces your lips, any semblance of control you had slipping away feeling the warmth of his skin.

“Y-yes Sergeant Barnes”

His lips press against yours, soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the way his body was screaming for him to pick you up and toss you onto his cot.

"Sweet like sugar" He lets his hands fall to your waist, pulling you flush against his body while your arms drape on top of his shoulders. You stand on your toes chasing more of his lips and he chuckles at the needy whine you let out when he pulls away for air.

Now let's say your first night together was actually quite tame. He kisses you again and you swoon when he repeatedly checks in with you before going any further. His hand slips under your skirt, letting his fingers toy with places no on else has touched. With each night, he needs you more and more until he can't hold off any longer and neither can you.

-

You sneak into his tent and this time he doesn't hesitate to undress you completely, not when he needs you bare with nothing separating you both. You feel your heart race as he lies on top of you, draping a thin sheet over himself when you shiver at the chill night air. You feel his body heat instantly warm you up, his heavy cock resting between your soaked folds.

"Are you sure, sugar?" He asks, his hand cupping your cheek and stroking your skin.

"Please Sergeant" You whisper and the way you say his title makes his cock twitch. There's something so different about you when you're in his bed, a sweet little bunny giving herself to him completely. It drives him feral with a need to make you feel good, make you cry for his cock and his cock only, to keep you nice and full of him.

You don't look twice at anyone else and here you are completely naked in his tent with your tight little virgin cunt, your legs spread open so he can put his dick in you; there was no way he was ever going to let you go.

"You tell me if it's too much, alright?" His lips tickle your neck as kisses your skin while rubbing his heavy cock through your folds, coating it in your slick, "Breathe for me"

He slips his tags into your mouth as he starts to press in, the initial sting making you bite down hard onto the metal feeling a mix of pleasure and pain. You whine at the way he stretches you open, your thighs squeezing around his waist, nails digging into his shoulders.

"Shhh, that's it love, doin' so good for me so good for your Sergeant, look how you're takin' all of me baby" He looks down to where you're both connected as he continues to slowly push himself in till hes fully sheathed inside you. He gives you time to adjust, slipping his tags out of your lips and letting his tongue lace with yours instead, his balls already throbbing with how tightly you were squeezing his cock.

"Please-Sergeant" your heels press into his ass desperate for him to move, gasping when he starts to slowly roll his hips, barely pulling out.

"I got you love-don't worry" Bucky moves as slowly as he could not wanting to hurt you, taking just as much care of you as you had with him countless of times.

But he can only keep up at that pace for so long. Your muffled whines and moans don't help the way his mind is already spiraling. His pretty little nurse all spread out just for him, taking his raw, bare cock in her soaking pussy, squeezing him so tight, he was only a few strokes from cumming.

If it were up to him he would've proposed on the spot, thinking about making love to you on your wedding night, seeing you all shy and sweet wrapped up in soft white lace. If you were his wife, he'd take you apart every which way, not giving a fuck about traditions, taking you right on the dining room table.

You'd be the prettiest little thing for him to come home to, such a good wife all dirty just for her husband. Only he'd know the way your mouth would slobber all over his cock like your life depended on it. The way you'd moan at the taste of his cum. Bucky's eyes rolled back at the thought of you with nothing but some heels and a string of pearls he'd put around your neck while he stuffed you with cum and emptied his balls in you.

"S-Sergeant-I-oh god" You whimpered feeling his cock grow harder, your pussy pulling him right back in, feeling the coil low in your belly pull tighter and tighter as he hit that spot.

Meanwhile Bucky's jaw clenched as he felt his balls pull tight to his body, the tip leaking steadily in your pussy. His mind spiraled into places he didn't think would exist before he met you, rogue thoughts he only entertained when he had his dick in his hand. The harder he fucked you the more he thought about how gorgeous you'd look with a swollen belly.

Fuck, imagine if he got you pregnant right then and there. That nurses uniform would no longer fit you. Everyone would know he knocked you up, your perfectly round tummy carrying Sergeant James Barnes' baby, breasts heavy with milk, God, he wasn't going to last-

“Gonna let your Sergeant pump you full of cum?” He pants, letting his hands grip onto your hips like his life depends on it, the wiry hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit.

“Yes!!” You sob, biting down onto his shoulder to keep your cries down while he continues to fuck you into oblivion. You don't understand how such filth can spew from that pink, pouty little mouth of his. "Please-please-need-youI-I'm gonna-"

"M'yours sweet girl, m'all yours, go on, cum for me love, cum on my cock, it's all yours" He gazed into your eyes, cooing at your parted lips and sweat slicked skin. It didn't take long for you to shatter around him his lips smashing against yours to swallow your moans.

"Want your cum Sergeant" You beg , desperate to have him claim you from the inside.

"Oh fuck baby, y-you can't say that, m-gonna, oh fuckkk" Your words throw Bucky right off the edge as he lets out a deep groan stilling his hips and shooting endless ropes of his spend into you. You both lay in comfortable silence, your fingers playing with his hair; his usual kempt brown locks now disheveled .

“Y’know m’gonna marry you” his scruffy cheek nuzzles into your neck as he continues to stay deep inside you as his cock softens, “after all this is over. Gonna put a ring on that finger”

His words send a different wave of emotions over you, feeling more safe than ever, clinging onto him as tightly as possible. You let a whimper slip out and he pulls away from your neck with an expression of concern.

“What is it love” Bucky coos, wiping away the tears that slip you, stroking your cheek while you bite back a sniffle.

“Do you mean it? After this is all over?” You weren't sure what Bucky would want-there was still a war going on. Anything could happen. Perhaps this was just to keep his bed warm. Something to keep him calm, you were just someone to-

"Of course sugar" Bucky presses a firm kiss to your forehead, silencing the thoughts that tried to run wild. "You're mine"

-

And of course he gets his happy ending. Because when it's all over, he gets the ring for the girl he loves. He's on one knee, proposing to you with the sweetest words. He treats you like a princess on your wedding night, making love all night long until the sun is up.

There isn't a surface in the house he's left untouched. Nothing makes him more feral than moaning for his pretty wife, constantly taking her hand and wrapping it around his cock, watching that diamond glint with each stroke.

It doesn't take long for you to feel a little squeamish, knowing all the tell tale signs.

The day you tell him he's going to be a dad is one of the happiest days of his life. There isn't a single night that goes by where he isn't nuzzling his face into your tummy, talking to your little one.

Everything was perfecttt.

[st7rnioioss]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“come on, pretty.. we gotta go pee,”

more bsf!chris x inexperienced!reader

𝜗𝜚˚࿔ notes: none:3

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© ST7RNIOIOSS est. 2023

[ghostsandmirrors]

He listened silently, focused on the hand in his hair, the feeling of Steve in his arms, the exhaustion now that he'd stopped fighting himself. He wasn't tired enough not to argue, though, to not pick holes in his reasonings until they were more like a net than anything solid, because he knew how to do it. His brain had taught him, so well, how to pick and pick and pick until something fell apart, and taught him how to be precise with it through doing it to him.

A part of him hated that it was a skill he'd acquired, but it could be useful.

"I was picked 'cause I survived, " he said quietly, not continuing the thought, not telling him that it was because the experiments in Azzano had succeeded, because they were testing on the prisoners who were too tired and too weak to keep working, because they'd expected him to die like the others and he hadn't, because Zola had seen him when they'd escaped and Zola knew.

Because scientists like that man weren't interested in people, only results, and he'd been the result, bruised but still walking, still able to glare over the flames of the factory.

"Did you even know what they were testin'? At Azzano?"

That spiral was still there, and all he could do was watch it come closer, acutely aware that it wasn't exactly the same as before. There were the doubts, the little hints of the past that would keep nudging him back in, and frustration that pulled at the edges of his dissociation, not enough to break through but enough for him realize it was there. All of it, together, was enough for him to realize that he wanted nothing to do with it.

He breathed, because he wasn't going back into that spiral, and if Steve was falling into his own then he'd drag him out, too; he couldn't be what Steve deserved, but he could take Steve's weight. Steve was never too heavy for him to carry, for him to grab and start pulling, and he would never let Steve think he was.

"'sides," he said, running his hands over Steve's back gently, "I followed 'cause we're a team," and because he hadn't wanted to leave him in the war, hadn't wanted to even face the possibility of returning home without him. They'd been together for years, years of pining and protecting with the decision that Steve would survive anything. How could he have abandoned him?

How could he have looked this man--this incredible man with a heart of pure gold, who'd always been his inspiration to do a little better--in the eye and said 'no, I'm not coming with you'? How could he have looked at this man, who'd agreed to the serum just to be able to fight, and not stayed with him?

"Neither of us knew I'd survive. M'not gonna blame you for not seein' the future, Steve." He nuzzled into his neck, eyes closed while breathing him in, settled in that space with the comfort from his existence. "If I'd thought you'd die from that fall, I'd've done the same damn thin'." He paused, reconsidering what he was going to say before deciding that he was going to do it. He was sure it'd be argued with, but it didn't matter. "Never been as brave as you."

It was true, as far as he was concerned; he'd never been brave enough to stand up for others, never been brave enough to volunteer for the army, never been brave enough to do anything but react, and that spiral was coming back faster than he expected, filled with anger towards himself because how dare he cling to Steve and make excuses for his own hypothetical inaction? How dare he compare them? How dare that prickling start behind his eyelids and that tightness return to his throat? How dare he hold any amount of sadness for himself when he'd had chances to prove he was worth something and had avoided every single one?

He breathed, because he didn't deserve this sympathy, because weapons didn't weep, because Steve didn't deserve this. He breathed, because that spiral had thorns and he couldn't help Steve if he was trying to avoid them. He breathed, because the smells that made up Steve Rogers could quiet his thoughts for long enough, could hold back the inevitable until he was alone, could help him avoid an audience. He breathed, because this was a rollercoaster and the alternative was to scream, but his throat was too painfully tight and Steve deserved better.

He breathed before he said, "they didn't plan fuckin' anythin'." His voice was torn, a rag of a curtain blowing in the breeze from a broken window, but it was audible, and that was enough.

Stop. Bucky was telling him to do something. He was giving an order. If that wasn't a sign of his anatomy nothing was but still Steve didn't expose the fact that Bucky was telling him to do something. He didn't want him to retreat backward or become so melancholy and apologetic again. Still the order itself wasn't something Steve wanted to do.

He didn't want to give up the blame. He would have been whole and happy if he wasn't chasing after Steve and his antics. He would have settled down and raised a family maybe. Well, Steve was pretty sure the straight agenda would have stolen Bucky because it was just the time even if the two of them pined for each other.

He kept his fingers in his hair, combing through his locks and looked at him as he all out telling him to stop blaming himself.

"You were following me. The reason this all happened was because you were following me into war. They targeted you because I was your best friend. They chose you. You were picked because of who I am. How is it not my fault? How is it not my fault that I didn't go looking for you? That I didn't even consider you'd been alive. You would have looked for me if it was reversed. And I just went chasing after Red Skull instead."

"You can tell me it's not my fault. You can tell me what happened to you wasn't planned but they knew who they wanted and they planned on you."

[classyrbf]

ᯓ★ YOU TURN ME ON! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...what turns the jjk men on? Don’t worry, I’m here to tell you!

INFO...jjk men (geto, gojo, nanami, toji, choso, higuruma, sukuna) x fem!reader, sexual and non sexual turn ons (kinda), whispering, eye contact, tight clothing, shower sex, p in v, hair pulling, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), pheromones (?), mention of glasses (sukuna), facial (sukuna), not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

GOJO

gojo loves when you whisper in his ear. Something about you being so close to him, feeling your breath on his skin just does something to him. He gets immediate chills up his body and a small little smirk on his face. It doesn’t even have to be sexual either, you could whisper the most basic shit and he’d be giggling like a school girl cause he just loves hearing your voice in that tone. Now, when it is sexual…that man will nut inside of you without warning. You’re moaning and whispering in his ear? He’s a goner, quite literally on another planet. Nibble on his ear a little and his eyes will roll back. Sometimes you’ll do it in purpose while you two are out in public and he gives you the biggest pout ever. “Baby, don’t do that to me c’mon,” he whines. He damn near dragged you to the car and fucked you in the backseat…

NANAMI

nanami loves eyes contact a little too much. Sometimes it’s intimidating because he’s such a stoic man and doesn’t show very much emotion in his face, so he will just stare at you. But overtime you’ve grown to be comfortable with making eye contact with him, just staring lovingly while he talks about work or whatever. He stares into your eyes so much that he can tell what you’re thinking and feeling. More specifically, he knows when you’re in the mood, the little glint in your eye while you smile at him, looking at him up and down like he’s a piece of meat. In that case, expect eye contact during sex! Nanami loves missionary just looking at you, forehead pressed against yours, and he can’t get over that pleading look, batting your pretty lashes at him while you moan his name. “Yes, right here, baby. Keep looking at me. There’s my girl,” he softly sighs.

TOJI

toji loves tight clothes (no surprise). He genuinely thinks you look good in anything, but something about seeing the outline of your body makes him a crazed man. He will nonstop be touching you, handing on your ass, waist, titties, thighs…he does not give a damn. You could be wearing your pajamas and he will still find you sexy. You bend over in something tight? He’s now hard and has to fix the problem, not that he minds. He bends you over right there on the couch with your shorts around your ankles. It’s date night? He’s excited because you’re gonna wear that new dress he bought you—the one that hugs your body so well, showing off all your curves. Wandering eyes follow your every movement while you get ready and be chews on his bottom lip while he thinks of everything he wants to do to you. “Yeah, doll, I don’t think we’ll be making it to dinner tonight,” he chuckles.

GETO

geto loves soapy titties. Now I know that’s like very specific…but I just see him getting turned on by soapy tits for some reason (I don’t make the rules). He doesn’t care what size they are, what they look like, just throw some soap and water on them bad boys and he’s a satisfied man. Bonus points if you send him an unexpected photo in the shower while he’s away. He almost drops his phone while waiting in line for food because he can’t believe his eyes—your perky nipples and soap cascading down your entire body. Expect shower sex…a lot of shower sex. He will go out of his way to help you wash up, trying to be all nice and polite but minutes later his hands are groping your chest and playing with your nipples, soap running between his fingers while he fucks you against the shower wall. “They look so pretty in my hands, baby. I love ‘em.” He lazily smiles.

CHOSO

choso loves when his hair gets pulled or when you play with his hair. He only discovered this when you were doing his hair and accidentally pulled it and to his surprise (and yours) he let out a small whimper. Now you go out of your way to tease him, tugging at his hair whenever you walk by, giggling when he huffs in annoyance. He likes laying on your chest and you just run your fingers through his hair, he immediately melts into your touch. Oh but Choso definitely likes it when you tug at his hair when he’s eating you out…why wouldn’t he? It makes him so hard when he feels your fingers entangle in his hair, pulling and tugging at it while you basically ride his face for your pleasure. You only tug harder when you get closer and closer to your orgasm and his dick is throbbing. “Yes, yes, pull on my hair, please, please,” he begs.

HIGURUMA

higuruma gets turned on when you smell good, whether it’s your natural smell or your perfume, conditioner, lotion, whatever you use. You’d walk by him one day in the kitchen, greeting him when came home from work and he stops in his tracks and sniffs the air a couple of times because you smell so good…??? Like really good to the point he just wants to devour you, hold you, do whatever to you. He’ll hold you close and just smell your hair, your skin, kissing you over and over while his hands roam your body. And if you wear a scent that evokes memories of you two, like a first date or something like that…he pounces on you like a tiger. “How do you smell so fucking good? God, I could just eat you up right now…would you let me?”

SUKUNA

sukuna loves glasses. Yes I said it. Modern sukuna more specifically cause yk…But he will see a woman with glasses and think about how cute her face looks, how smart she looks…the innocent thoughts at first, and then his evil, horny ass would think about what they would look like when he’s fucking you. He can never be wholesome. Will they fog up? Will you let him cum on them? Do you even keep them on? Will they break if he fucks you too hard? All questions that need to be answered. So yes, he eventually fucks a woman with glasses and god does he love it. He finds it adorable when you push up your glasses every ten seconds cause he’s pounding into you too hard. He loves it when you look over them while giving him head. And yes, they do fog up. “Gonna let me cum all over your face? Yeah..? No, no, keep them on for me,” he devilishly smirks, licking his lips.

taglist (comment to be added):

@valleydoli @zxnxy @screechingbasementprincess @lexluthorbutnotbald @lynxslokley @briyah0 @levisjinchuriki @maiiluvs @levizonlywife @xllizs @sm8th0p @waterfal-ling @bonneyzsk @ventila98

[rafey-baby]

clumsy!reader is still bad at yoga and yoga instructor!rafe wants to keep her all to himself...

c/w: rafe being touchy & blatantly flirting w her, him getting jealous, slightly suggestive, reader being oblivious, 18+ mdni!

wc: 1.9k

idk if anyone missed him but he's back & better than ever !! (after a small vacation that ended up being almost 3 months :D)

some parts are more or less inspired by this, this, this & this ask

part 1

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

Rafe is in the midst of helping someone fix their posture when he hears the gates of heaven opening in the form of a melodious giggle chiming from the back of the room. He lifts his head in order to detect the source of such a vibrant sound; noticing that his favorite client is currently directing her attention towards some guy next to her.  

The joyful expression she’s sporting makes a scowl paint over his features. Why is this random man making her laugh like that?  

“Yeah, you got it. Just keep workin’ on it though,” he quickly dismisses the person he was helping before stomping over to find her practically lying on the floor with the guy’s hands on her calf, along with his mat pulled far too close to hers for Rafe’s liking.   

“I think you should bend it more here, right? I’m honestly not too sure,” the guy chuckles as he tries to figure out what she’s doing wrong.  

“No cause I have no idea how everyone else makes it seem so easy. It’s so hard to get it right, I feel so stupid half the time,” she complains with a huff, not even noticing Rafe looming within earshot.  

“Seriously, I thought this was a beginner’s class but it feels like some of these poses are meant for like literal pros,” he continues with a shake of his head. 

“I know, right?” another peal of laughter bubbles from her throat as she shifts into a seated position, giving up altogether.  

“Everything alright?” Rafe doesn’t mean for his tone to come out so clipped but there’s something in the way the guy’s touching her so freely that makes his hands curl into fists. 

He keeps reminding himself over and over again that this is a client, which means that he can’t just smash his face in— no matter how severely his fingers are itching for it right about now.  

“Oh, I was just trying to help her with this,” the guy explains in tandem with her head turning to look at Rafe. She seems startled.  

“Well, why don’t you focus on your own form for a change? I mean, s’kinda my job to help her, yeah?” he scoffs, making the guy halt his movements in a state of surprise before he's lifting his hands up in apology.  

“Damn, sorry dude,” he mutters out from under his breath while Rafe merely glares at him with the words stay professional bouncing around his skull.  

A tense silence follows, making her grow quiet while she takes slow sips from her water bottle as a distraction; wondering why he seems so bothered to see her talking to someone else.  

However, when he finally turns his attention towards her, she shrugs it off as him merely having a bad day because it seems like the only logical explanation to her. Because at the end of the day, him being jealous makes as much sense to her as her math homework in high school.

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

Rafe is convinced that the universe is purposefully trying to poke and prod at his limits, giving his carefully curated facade opportunities to crack— allowing for the borderline psychotic aspects of his personality to breathe through the crevices. Because only a week later, Rafe sees her entering the gym with another guy she seems to be awfully friendly with. 

“That’s crazy, I don’t even wanna know what Kie said to that,” she rolls her eyes jokingly while he’s showing her something on his phone.  

”Yeeeah, guess you could say she wasn’t the biggest fan,” he laughs in a carefree manner, raking a hand through his disheveled, sand-colored hair.  

“For some reason I’m not surprised,” she mutters out before she notices Rafe standing in the hallway leading to the yoga class. “Oh, gotta go so I’m not late. See you after?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be here. Think Pope said he’s gonna join me for leg day, so we’ll see if I’m still standing when you get back. But you have fun,” he offers her a wave before walking away towards the locker rooms. 

And at last, her warm eyes meet Rafe’s. “Hi,” her voice is soft, nearly shy; a stark contrast to her demeanor only a few seconds ago.  

“Hey,” he greets her in a casual manner, although his mind is somewhere else entirely. “So, that your boyfriend or?” he tries to approach the subject with nonchalance because it’s not necessarily any of his business.  

He’s not even sure why he’s asking— keeps telling himself that he’s just curious and tries to appear friendly by making small talk. After all, some clients have given him feedback on his apparently intimidating aura, claiming they don’t always have the courage to ask for his help because they get anxious he’ll judge them. Therefore, it's something he’s been trying to work on.  

“What? Oh, JJ? No, he’s just a friend. He goes to the gym here, so I usually just tag along with him. Free ride, right?” she answers with a lighthearted tone.  

“Right. Yeah,” he scratches at the back of his neck, contemplating whether or not to ask the next question since he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries. However, there’s something deep in his stomach that grumbles at the prospect of her being in a relationship, makes him feel nearly insane and ultimately, makes the decision for him. 

“You, uh, you got one?”  

“What?” she asks, features coated in confusion. 

“A boyfriend, I mean,” his gaze is unwavering, eager.  

“Oh, um— no, I don’t. Why?” her puzzled eyes flit over the lines of his countenance, seemingly trying to grasp onto his motives. 

“Just, uh…wondering. I mean, he’d be kind of a dick if he’s not drivin’ you here himself,” he shrugs, a strange sort of relief making his shoulders feather-light when she lets out an airy giggle in response.  

“Yeah, honestly sometimes wish I had one just so he could drive me around and stuff,” she jokes while they begin to pad over to the class. 

“You don’t have your license yet?” he raises his brows in surprise.  

“No, I do. I just don’t really like driving. I don’t know why but it’s so stressful to me. Usually try to avoid it as much as I can,” she elaborates while gathering her hair away from her face and securing the strands into a ponytail.   

“Oh yeah? Well, if you ever need a ride home just let me know, alright?” he says, fighting the urge to tuck a loose tendril that has managed to escape the restraints of her hair tie back behind her ear.  

“Really? That’s so sweet of you! But, um, wouldn’t wanna be a bother,” the hesitation is present in her voice.  

“Nah, couldn’t bother me if you tried,” he promises, wishing they could talk for longer. However, the ocean of people flooding inside the room behind them cuts their conversation short.  

“You’re just saying that,” she dismisses him with a playful scoff. 

“M’being for real. You’re my favorite face around here. Plus, makes my job more fun when you’re always stumblin' on your feet,” he can’t help his mouth from twisting upwards at the way her eyes round out in response to his words. 

“Shut up. I’m gonna go set down my mat now, before there’s only space right in front of you,” she offers him a giddy smile that makes him grin like an idiot. Then, she’s tiptoeing away from him in order to locate a vacant spot. 

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

Rafe has become awfully familiar with these newfound feelings of fondness for the girl who’s by far the most helpless little bambi he’s ever encountered. He thinks she should honestly pick another hobby at this point, because maybe yoga just isn’t meant for her. However, he’d never say any of that out loud because even the thought of not seeing her getting all flustered while she loses her balance whenever he’s near makes him feel physically unwell.  

He’s not entirely sure whether her apparently oblivious brain simply hasn’t caught onto the fact that he so clearly has a thing for her, or if she’s well aware and merely chooses to be a tease about it. Nonetheless, the moment she walked into the class today, he could feel his workout shorts tightening and all she’d offered him was a simple smile.  

And now she’s right in front of him, all tangled limbs and pretty eyes blinking up at him— practically begging for his guidance and for him to put his hands all over her (something she doesn’t seem to mind all that much).  

“You put this cute little set on just for me, huh?” he rasps out while his thumb smooths over the bubblegum pink fabric; feeling it out as he pinches the stretchy fabric between his fingertips, making her breath get caught in her throat in the process.  

“Oh, um— just wanted to…try out some new stuff I ordered. You think it’s cute?” she stares at him with something bashful glimmering in her eyes. 

“Mhm. Fits you nice,” he mumbles out as his gaze lingers on the way the tight material wraps around her figure, not leaving much to the (his) imagination. He bets it’d be so easy to just rip right through these cute yoga pants and pull her closer with a firm grip on her hips before burying his face between her plush thighs.

“Thanks,” she peeps out, flustered.  

He tries to shake off the improper, filthy thoughts with a clear of his throat when he gets caught staring at her for a little too long.  

“So, you actually wanna bend your leg on the other side of your body on the mat and support your foot with your left arm not the right one. Easy to get them confused,” he chuckles as she shifts her position according to his instructions as best as she can. 

“Like this?” she seeks reassurance with a soft tone.  

“Yeah, just like that, Bambi. Good job,” his mouth quirks up some while her mind begins to cloud over in response to his low cadence. She’s not entirely sure what exactly it is about him that makes her feel so fuzzy on the inside, but she thinks it’s nice, thinks she wants to always have him this close to her— wants him even closer.

She doesn’t remember the last time she’s had such an intense crush on someone— slowly turning into a crazy person by each second of not knowing whether he’s merely flirting with her for his own amusement or because he’s actually into her. However, she thinks she’s embarrassed herself in front of him far too many times for the latter to be true in any reality.  

“Then need you to move your right hand here,” he adjusts her form with a grip on her wrist while he maneuvers her to his liking; tingles erupting all over the skin he skims over with his fingertips.  

Her head is spinning.  

“See? Knew you could do it. Feels nice, hm?” he rumbles out, letting his hands rest on her shoulders for support, despite the position not really requiring it.  

She hums her response because she doesn’t trust for any coherent words to stumble out of her mouth at the moment, all the while Rafe is desperately trying to not pay attention to the nearly painful situation in his pants.

[ill0usainte]

Had to tell her that dick off limits I hop on it at night, I'm a menace.

pairings: rafayel x possessive!reader

cw: unprotected sex, cowgirl, overstimulation, whiny!rafayel, crying, dom!reader, cum play, sub!rafayel, playing with paint, needy!rafayel (come on, it's him we're talking about), possessiveness, jealousy (sorta), he loves possessive women sm

You can't convince me that Rafayel isn't a whiny sub while you're riding him.

You didn't like the way women were so touchy and flirty towards him during his art exhibition earlier. But you know damn well, that Rafayel is still going to be the one crying later.

His back was laid against the floor of his studio. He panted heavily, trying to catch his breath. His white-collared shirt fell off his shoulders, buttons not in place. He whined against your touch-- body reacting to every move you make.

He flutters his lashes, eyes glassy as he looked at you with his blue orbs, his gaze filled with love and lust-- face flustered as he whimpered.

His lips quivered, feeling his gritty cock inside your warm pussy. Just right after Rafayel entered your tight hole, he immediately came.

Can't resist how it sucks his whole cock so good--your walls clenching him inside.

Resting his head against your bare chest, whimpering like a puppy, apologizing to you like a blabbing mess.

You did this to him.

This man will let you; use him, make you do everything to him-- just to please you.

Oh god, what would the sea even react if they found out how freely and unhesitantly their sea god submits himself to a mere human?

You can't help but grin, adoring his pitiful state. Feeling his cum leaking out of your throbbing hole, dripping down to his cock. You leaned over and pulled him into a heated kiss, earning a moan from him between.

Hot tongues dancing inside as he savors the taste of your plump lips.

You pulled back from the sloppy kiss, his lips swollen as he looked at you with his lustful eyes. Saliva connected your lips and his-- the look on his face was begging for more. You caressed his cheek with your hand; Rafayel leaned into your touch as he placed his hand over yours, moving his head and placed a soft kiss on your palm.

You leaned back, the way your tight hole swallowed his whole cock, the way it clung to it-- makes it hardened more as it twitches inside of you.

Your soft hands resting over his pelvis-- soothing it circles with your thumb as you smeared his cum and your juices together.

"Mon amour, p-please... 'lease, use me as you please." He begged, as if he were pleading you to take control over him. His mind went hazy; he was in pure ecstasy. Keeping his pace-- pounding his cum deep inside your womb.

He's so desperate-- to feel you, touch you, and be inside you.

Trying to catch your breath, you placed one hand on his chest while the other reached out for the brush with wet paint. Holding it, you positioned it against his pelvis, which was already smeared with his cum and your juices.

Fuck, he finds it hot when you're in control-- dominating him as you please. And most especially-- how possessive you are.

As you ran the brush against it, you wrote something with bold, capital letters. Rafayel pursed his lips, his body quivering with every stroke of the brush.

After finishing, you threw the brush away. He leaned in to see what you had written:

"MY PROPERTY. ♥"

He loves possessive women!

masterlist

[greenglowinspooks]

To be honest. DCxDP where the reason Danny meets the bats is Ace the Bat-hound

Like, just think about it for a second. Danny is in Gotham for college, or maybe he just moved out to find a city where having mad scientist parents isn’t actually that unusual.

He can see ghosts.

The ghosts know this.

Now he’s getting harassed left and right by spirits trying to get closure. Fine, whatever, most of them are a one-and-done type deal, and the amount of ghosts trying to get his help steadily decreases.

Except for this one very stubborn dog.

It just keeps showing up and leading him to crime scenes! He doesn’t know how many “anonymous tips” he can call in to the cops before they trace his phone! And this dog, this incredibly good boy, will not stop trying to help the city. He’s never met anyone with such a strong sense of justice, let alone a dog. Can dogs even have a moral compass?

And so Danny just accepts the fact that Ace isn’t going anywhere and becomes his reluctant sidekick/dedicated medium. He leans into the whole thing, dressing up in a mix of traditional magic-user attire and accessories that pay homage to the ghost dog.

He becomes somewhat well known. The psychopomp detective following around the shadowy figure of a German Shepard? That’s unusual! That’s weird! I mean, it’s not the weirdest thing in Gotham, sure, but he’s a new vigilante and he’s got a ghost dog that people can only see when it’s around him. Someone’s gonna notice.

Damian, as Robin, is the first to reach out to him.

Ace doesn’t know Damian but he does know a Robin, and while this isn’t his Robin, he’s still friendlier than usual. Danny’s panicking because oh god the bats are here and also is this kid gonna steal my ghost dog, Damian is absolutely delighted by Ace, and Ace is just happy to see a Robin again.

Damian decides that the psychopomp isn’t a danger to anyone, and there’s no reason to put this encounter into his reports, really, and perhaps Danny can help with some of his cases in the future.

Danny is sweating bullets because Damian basically tells him that he’ll keep him secret as long as he gets to play with Ace. Ace is happy that he’s finally getting some bat affiliated crime-fighting assistance.

And so, Danny is now both Ace AND Damian’s reluctant assistant. At least whenever he’s in trouble, he can always call a middle schooler to help him.

(Is Robin even in school? He’s out patrolling damn near every night, and he stays out late as hell. Does he have a bedtime? He should.)

Eventually it gets to the point where Damian is going over to Danny’s house. When he first sees it, he has a damn bitch you live like this moment, to which Danny responds that not everyone has the money to afford a nice place. Damian counters that he could at least take the time to clean up, and Danny replies that he’s working, going to school, and being a vigilante assistant to a ghost dog, something’s got to give.

Danny nearly has a heart attack when he checks his bank account the next day and sees that someone transferred him 10,000 dollars.

And so they get into a routine. Danny and Damian fight crime with Ace at night, and occasionally Damian stops by during the day to play with Ace and have Danny help with his homework.

(Damian is smart enough to do it on his own, but some of the instructions are written incredibly confusingly, and he would never admit to needing help to his family. Danny is just glad that the kid is in school and cares about his education, blissfully unaware that he’s basically emotionally adopted him.)

Damian is used to being in Danny’s company.

Eventually, when going over a case with the family, Damian absentmindedly remarks that he’ll have to ask Danny about some of the clues that they might be missing. Nightwing asks who he means and Damian makes a face like he just swallowed a lemon.

Cue shitstorm.

Who is “Danny?” Why is Damian willing to ask for help from anyone, much less someone outside of the family? Does he know who Damian is? Has Damian been compromised? What the hell is going on?

Damian now has to explain that Danny is the psychopomp with the ghost dog who he might have met hunted down while on patrol and conveniently not mentioned, but he’s not a bad person, really, and he lets him play with Ace, and he’s been quite helpful on certain cases due to his ability to talk to ghosts.

Bruce insists that the family meet Danny. Damian, hoping that he won’t just skip town the second he hears the news, relents.

Danny is surprisingly eager to meet the bats, considering his earlier fears.

Damian, blissfully unaware of what’s coming, sets a time and place to meet.

Once everyone is there, he gives Bruce the earful of a lifetime.

Robin is in middle school! Danny knows that there’s no way to stop the boy from going on patrol, but you could at least shift his schedule so he gets enough sleep on school nights! Does the Bat even know where he is half the time?! (No) And why isn’t he comfortable asking his family for help with both cases and homework? Did they ever even notice how much time he was spending at Danny’s house? If Danny was a bad person, he could have seriously hurt the poor boy! Shame on you!

Nightwing is mortified that Damian didn’t trust him enough to tell him about any of this. Red Hood is laughing his ass off, because yeah Danny is making good points but he’s also chewing out the literal Batman. Tim is recording the whole thing. Steph is delighted by the absolute gall of this Danger Twink™️, and already planning to add him to several groupchats. Damian is more embarrassed than he’s ever been in his entire life.

You, he points to Nightwing, did your academic life feel supported when you were a Robin? Nightwing is too stunned to speak. Red Hood, eternal shit-stirrer, says that oh, we all prioritized patrol over our education, that’s just how it is. Red Robin actually dropped out of high school to avoid distractions, did you know that?

Danny honest-to-god shrieks at this.

He finishes his angry rant and leaves, everyone too stunned to stop him.

And as it turns out, Tim wasn’t the only person recording the whole thing.

The entire internet is blowing up with Psychopomp The Danger Twink™️’s rant. People are taking sides. Things are getting messy. Red Hood literally admitting on-camera to previously being a Robin is somehow not the main focus here.

Eventually someone connects some dots from the video, as well as stories circling the internet about the psychopomp. A ghost dog named Ace, who is the literal only reason that the psychopomp is fighting crime at all, which seems incredibly fond of Nightwing and Robin.

A crime-fighting dog who wants constant attention from both the current and original Robin.

Oh my god, Ace the Bat-hound died and became a crime-fighting ghost.

And, somehow, that’s still not the strangest thing going on in Gotham.