#wanted to mess with filters and whatever

[colacreaturr]

hi vincent nation

[vynnyal]

Turns out Sunlit Trail isn't quite done just yet, so after all that they just send you to a dead end 😂

[lorillee]

im really normal about them <- lie

[almalex24]

im like 2 days late but non-breath oblige and reincarnation apple birthdays are a day apart and i wanted to draw them. Happy birthday to peak music

[ratatatastic]

absolutely cackling at the idiot4idiot of them and poor benny having to deal with this catholic school omega bless his heart!! bobby’s “captain’s nice but not that nice” killed me because like. that’s so correct thank u can’t wait to see him be “not that nice”. in this au, i do also wanna consider lundy with a massive massive heart eyes crush on maffhew bc that’s adorable. and would be hilarious if maffhew catches onto that faster than he catches on to sasha’s end of things. every euro’s eye twitches in judgement

the more that gets added to this au the funnier it fucking gets truly like lets make it sooooooooooo much messier yeah babes lets really ramp it up i love the energy we're creating in the room right now

you spend your heat with your captain ONCE and you know all his secrets is all im saying... something about a terribly sweet man who makes sure not to be overbearing with his status/size/etc who will throw his weight around liberally if he's gone enough... bobby knows a little too well of how not nice cappy can be... or so the tale goes...

i was hoping someone was finally gonna ask about lundy so i can talk about baby alpha lundy in relation to the sashamatthew because oh BOY when i say everyone is fucking everyone i meant it oh god i meant it

lundy's really whipped for the tall bratty omega that pushes him around (luosty) but also have you considered that as a baby alpha new to the league, you've been confronted with the longstanding idea that alphas cannot be in the same pack unless there's bitching involved (which there are other ways to assert dominance that does not involve knotting an alpha like holding them down and biting their neck until they stop fighting would do the trick for most alphas who aren't super territorial but you know hockey league and everything I'm sure its a "this is the quickest and simplest solution lets nip it in the bud before it becomes a problem (insert the many amount of incidents that caused such a consensus to be made)" so it becomes embroiled in tradition but it does have the adverse effect of being a lot of As inadvertent awakenings as hockey is wont to do

anyways walk with me, youre a baby alpha and trying not to psych yourself out about whats about to happen, its your first knot and the only one youll have to take in your life (or so it goes) and then youre home-free. Sasha treats you sweetly because hes been in your position before he doesnt want this to be a terrible experience but somehow that makes it 10 times worse because hes treating you something like a lover when you're literally bent over a table in a random staff room in the bowels of the stadium with your gym shorts by your knees and none of this is supposed to be in anyway tender or sexy its supposed to be practical and methodical, a "lets get it over with and never think about it ever again" but sasha keeps checking in, soothing and gentling you when he notices you tense up as he preps you, warns you when his knot is starting to form and tells you to just breathe through it and when you inevitably start crying at the sheer size of it, of how overwhelming it is—which is already embarrassing enough in the presence of your pack leader—he just starts pressing against you more and you feel the rumble more than you hear it because hes purring and chat is it normal to pop a knot because your captain is fucking his own knot into you and also purring to calm you down like your one one of his omegas. no lundys never living this down. no sasha is also never letting him live it down when he finally realises whats happened because despite his knot finally going down lundy is still a little too eerily still on the table. this is the part where he limps off and nurses his own ego and sasha nudges at him till he finally turns over and well. thats new. and unexpected. and definitely something to nurse your ego over (he likes to bring it up when lundy's being mouthy like he isnt still just a pup because it shuts him up pretty effectively and sasha's favourite activity is bullying lundy yeah)

so you take your first knot, kinda really liked it and also guess what youre living in your pack leaders house (to be mentored, also because fellow countryman) as a double whammy so you can imagine what lundys first week after the knot-ining™ is like... very much a puppy tucking their tail between their legs…

The thing they don’t tell you after being knotted as an Alpha is the after. The after is so much worse than the before and definitely a lot better than the during—but resolutely a pretty resounding worse.

The before is pacing around the sterile staff room, sweat breaking out of every pore of your skin, trying to wrestle down the nervous yipping that’s desperately forming in his chest—Anton’s not a puppy anymore—and listening for the footsteps that are sure to come soon enough down that hall.

The during is when the only thing you have to focus on is the large foreign intrusion that has your hackles rising but your Captain gave you a choice; either you stay still on your own volition or he has to help you out stay still. He said it without a single ounce of judgement, a peace offering if you will—like he’s done it so many times before, holding down big Alphas by the neck while he feeds them his cock, knots them until they become passive again. It’s already enough that Anton was on his stomach because he didn't think he could bear looking Sasha in the eye while he—you know... but it does mean his brain is making all sorts of connections he shouldn't be making at a time like this, and they don’t because before long every single thought just becomes big, big, so big. Anton doesn't have the time or space to even remotely think about the implications that come with it, just that it’s happening. 

The after… 

Not much has changed in the after, there's no new hints to Sasha's scent that Anton can parse out (like so many Omegas have gushed to him about before), there’s no throbbing at his neck because Sasha hasn’t marked him (this wasn’t a romantic throe of passion, it was a simple means to an end, of course Sasha didn’t bite him), and there’s no… bond…

Perhaps that’s the part that has him particularly… off.

He walks through Sasha’s house like he’s haunting it. He’s surrounded by his scent, the cardamom that was overwhelming the first night he came home with Sasha after the… event that has him limping along a lot more than usual… it smells unobtrusive. He knows he should feel skittish being so deep in Sasha’s territory for lack of a better word, but, well, taking a knot does that to a guy. It’s not soothing, not yet at least, but it could be. It’s going to be—because this is his pack leader.

When his pack leader joins him in the kitchen, where Anton has been staring holes into the cabinets for the better part of minutes letting every single thought pass through him in waves, he doesn’t so much as bristle when Sasha brushes past him. When he bumps his shoulder, Anton feels a need to lean into the touch, and he does.

The surprised huff of laughter Sasha makes isn't mean spirited, it’s filled with so much delight it has Anton going practically boneless next to him, trying to get closer to the source of it.

“Move. You’re in the way,” Sasha shoves at him, breathy giggles pouring out of him when Anton doesn’t do that. “I need tea, move.”

Anton decidedly does not grumble but it’s a close thing that he doesn’t when he has to peel off enough Sasha so he can access the tins of tea he has in his cupboard. He’s sure he’s not supposed to be acting like this; the Alpha in him is quiet, still, breathless and waiting. Doesn’t know whether to roll over, wiggling playfully as he shows off his soft underbelly or puff up, snapping his jaws that he’s being herded around, that another Alpha is pushing him around.

It’s a good thing he doesn’t have to think about it though, because Sasha is here—he’s pack leader, he’ll decide whether this’ll become a problem or not. Whether Anton should be acting like this or not.

anyways i need to establish that background because it makes everything else really funny i promise. so congrats your mooning over your captain because he took your knot virginity, and also hes just a great individual you really admire and want to be like, hes taken you under his wing and treats you something like a little brother which is—which makes trying to not think of the knot-ining™ and distancing yourself away from it easier, and you do for the most part and you think you have it under control i mean its been years its fine its very easy to willfully ignore attraction for admiration 

and entering from stage left is the fun flirty omega who clearly has thing for sasha too whos also your stall-mate and whether its because lundy is easily susceptible to gaining huge admiration crushes on anything that breathes (yes obviously) or because maffhew really is just that charming (also yes) he does imprint on him in the same way when you havent realised youre bi yet and you have a crush on this girl and then you find she has boyfriend and then you see her with the boyfriend and realise oh god hes hot too and you end up crushing on them as a couple instead 

And maffhew being maffhew when it doesnt involve his own feelings does notice that the alpha next to him as been giving him looks, stares at his neck when he thinks he can get away with it, turns away quickly in a nervous fluster when matthew gives him a coy smile that says I caught you. Like what you see? 

maffhew love messing with lundy a little too much, likes cooing at him after a good game, likes ruffling his hair messing it up in ways lundy protests about but can’t do much when it’s maffhew doing it. And lundy’s cute of course he is, it’s endearing to have an alpha this obvious in their interest (cue sighing from everyone involved in this clown show) and well maybe matthew doesn’t do anything to stop it either, maybe makes it worse actually. leaves his equipment strewn about so it spills over to lundys stall because he's messy of course theres a nuclear spill of cinnamon on lundy's side and suspiciously not on bennys, maybe he's more obnoxious when he leads warmup stretches in practise, makes sure he's not facing lundy so he can get a good look of the view of him on his knees—it certainly does help lundy is always next to sasha so if they both get a nice look well maffhew considers it killing two birds with one stone, its just efficient.

the euros of course see this and stare at lundy like "you. you are the problem" except when luosty says it hes cackling with delight, losing his absolutely shit at the mess lundy has managed to get himself involved with

and im not saying two giggling omegas is a cause for concern but lundy does start sweating profusely when he sees matthew and luosty getting a little too buddy buddy after practise because luosty knows him a little too well and nothing but trouble can come from that.

And if youre wondering what sasha is feeling about matthew getting cozy with lundy like oh hes feeling jealous—no, its a “I’m so glad matthew has TWO alphas on this team he can turn to if he needs to it makes me happy hes integrating himself so well into our pack even if it means he doesnt turn to me for dynamic reasons because it is not my place to encroach on a omega’s free will to choose how they spend their heats because that’s a dangerous line of thought and as pack leader i respect all members of my pack as long as their decisions dont pose a risk to our pack as a whole :)” 

“Why isn’t he jumping my bones by now!?” Matthew whines out for the millionth time this week it seems.

Sam remains quiet for a bit, watching as Matthew makes a mess of his couch rolling about it like he is, before he opens his mouth, “I feel like you would benefit so much from a college level Introduction to Dynamics Studies class.”

“Yeah, what makes you say that?”

“No reason. Just that there’s a community college downtown that I drove by this morning. They’re offering classes, you know.”

“Hey, man, I appreciate the shout, I do. But can we, like, stay on topic?”

“No, yeah, of course, I get it. Let’s go back to Sasha not being attracted to your very fertile and breedable pheromones you’ve been sending out like a billboard in the middle of the desert that it’s honestly a miracle you haven’t been pupped up by now.”

“Thank you.” Matthew says gratefully before he pauses, eyes narrowing, “I have a feeling you’re being a little bitchy about this.”

“I’m always bitchy.” Sam snorts.

“Correction. More bitchy than usual.” Matthew stares at Sam for a bit before his lips quirk up, the startings of that shit-eating grin he always has on his face making an appearance, “What? Don’t tell me you’re jealous? Aww, Benny! Babe, you’re always my first choice in As. I didn’t think I needed to say it but maybe I should more often if you’re—”

“Matthew. Shut up.”

“No, no, maybe my very fertile and breedable pheromones will soothe your bruised Alpha ego.”

The “Fuck off,” levels at Matthew doesn’t have the effect it should because he’s laughing, the words chased by giggles. It doesn’t help that Matthew’s already trying to wriggle onto his lap while Sam halfheartedly tries to shove him off.

“Let me soothe you, Alpha!” Matthew’s moaning it in the same way those cheesy 80s VHS pornos think is remotely sexy and not just a boner killer. He’s making his voice reedy and saccharine sweet to really sell the image all while he’s grabbing at the back of Sam’s head to push it into his neck.

“You’re such a dick.” It’s mumbled as shoved into his neck as Sam is.

“Yeah, well, you are too.” Matthew chirps like it's a complement. And to him—to both of them it is.

…

“You know I love you, right?”

Sam sighs, “Yeah. Love you too.”

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

Theyre going to think I like canon and purely canon if I keep going on like this

[bmpmp3]

style savvy styling star went OFF with the fact that you could replay the idol music sequences with your own character and outfit lipsyncing to it. every game with character customization and in-engine music videos NEEDS to let you do this

[mostly-imagines]

La Vie en Rose

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason wildly preferring you over everyone else

4 in 1 blurbs

warnings: standard batfam arguing etc.

You sit curled up embarrassingly close to Jason on the couch, head on his shoulder. The team is still in their gear as they filter into the living room, masks and helmets discarded in scattered locations between here and the cave. The mission had been fairly simple and with all of them together it only took a couple hours to finish up.

As you waited, Alfred had kept your mind busy in the kitchen while he taught you how he makes his famous ice cream from scratch.

The clamor of the heroic party’s return had made itself known sooner than later, and you think your face must have displayed your emotions nicely because Alfred nodded you away with a small smile and no second thought.

You’d walked into the living room, weaving through the mess of siblings until a hand snuck out on your left and grabbed your wrist. You barely had time to look at him before Jason pulled you down to sit next him on the sofa. He wrapped an arm over your shoulder, pulling you in and leaving virtually no space between you. His armor sits heavy against you, but a welcome weight on your shoulders.

Tim plops down on the couch across from you and you can just make out a bit of blood on the side of his head, aptly accompanied by an irritated look sprawled across his face. It’s not enough blood to be concerned about—not for them—but you can venture a guess that whatever they were up to shouldn’t have called for any injuries and his pique is likely directly related to that.

Though Dick’s goading aura might have something to do with it too, as he comes crashing down next to him a second later, partially sitting on Tim’s cape and pulling him into an awkward angle. 

Nightwing doesn’t seem too perturbed by the younger vigilante’s agitation and curt manner of pushing him off.

The others are too caught up in chatter to pay much attention to you, and you can be certain that’s why Jason takes that moment to press a kiss to the side of your head. He lets his lips linger there for just a second as you lean into him.

Alfred’s own entrance is the only thing able to subside the flurry of conversations skirting around the room.

“A job well done,” he commends with a nod. “A selection of ice creams awaits you in the kitchen.”

He gives you a sly wink before retreating back through the swinging door, leaving Stephanie and Cass to practically trip over themselves trying to beat each other to the kitchen. Robin follows after unhurried, mask still on, with his hands behind his back.

Jason kneads your thigh before pushing himself up to stand. He turns back, looking down to you. “What do you want?” he asks softly.

You hum, "Just strawberry's good."

Tim sits up, "Can I—”

"No, you've got legs,” Jason grumbles, stalking off to the kitchen.

Dick barks out a laugh and you bite back a smile.

Tim looks absolutely aghast. 

“That’s such bullshit. You know, he used to be nice.”

“No he didn’t,” Dick laughs, shaking his head. “Not since you’ve known him.”

Stephanie stumbles out of the kitchen then, the door hitting her back on the way, as she mutters a curse behind her. You can vaguely makeout Jason grunting something back before she rolls her eyes.

Steph looks at you, shaking her head as she returns to her seat, “You live like this?”

You shrug, “He’s nice to me.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Tim grumbles.

Jason returns after Cass a minute later with a bowl of strawberry ice cream and two spoons. He expertly ignores Tim’s unwavering glare as he resituates himself beside you.

He scoops your legs up over his lap and positions the bowl in between you, wrapping the sleeve of his jacket around it so that the cold porcelain doesn’t make contact with your skin.

The others have set themselves up so that the four of them are stuffed up against each other on the sofa adjacent to you, very obviously examining you both. 

And while you’re willing to acknowledge the amused stares and singular glare, Jason only sighs heavily, rolling his eyes as he glares at the coffee table.

Only a few seconds of this are allowed to go by before he pulls over a throw pillow and sets it over your knees, so that it rests atop your heads like a mini-fort, successfully blocking out his siblings' view of the two of you.

You smile and press a light kiss to his shoulder as he simmers.

Regrettably, you miss the way Damian side-eyes the pillow above you as he re-enters the room, perching himself atop the back of the couch behind the others.

“This is so nice,” Dick preens. “He used to just leave the room when too many of us gathered in one place. Now he has to stay.”

Stephanie watches the makeshift fort with wary eyes, scooping ice cream into her mouth. “Yeah…I don’t wanna freak you guys out but, uh…”

It’s quiet for a moment and you guess Cass is speaking. 

You’re proven right when Stephanie starts up again, “My thoughts exactly.” Her voice drops into a raspy whisper that isn’t really meant to go unheard, “I don’t know who the hell that is, but it is not Jason.” 

“This is unprecedented,” Damian mumbles, dipping into his own chocolate cup.

“Do they always talk about you like you’re not here?” you ask Jason quietly. 

“Yes,” he grumbles with a scornful look directed at the bowl.

A low hiss can be heard immediately after, “I’ve never heard him whisper before, what the fuck?”

You can’t hide your laugh as well as you mean to, but you know Jason’s light swat to your thigh is nothing more than a rib.

Mumbles continue along the other couch, mostly going unacknowledged, until Tim busts out, “He doesn’t even like strawberry!”

Jason snaps the pillow out of the way, “The fuck do you know about what I like?”

Tim resets his posture with one hell of an attitude, snarking, “Well I can name one thing you really seem to fucking—”

Jason grabs the pillow harshly and chucks it at Tims head which connects with a loud thwack.

Damian swats it away before it can knock him off balance, though his scowl is only half worth what Tim’s is. 

“You’re unbelievable,” he says with a sneer. “This is why you don’t get invited to movie night anymore.”

Jason doubles back at him, “Sorry, is this not your own fucking house?”

Tim huffs, “Yes, which i—”

“Then get your own goddamn ice cream!”

Tim huffs as he stands, sending Jason a pointed look. “I’m going because I want to.”

Jason barely gives him a sardonic nod as he stomps off.

“Get me some too!” Dick calls back, only for the back of his head to be met with a sideways grimace from Tim.

As he leaves, the focus of the room seems to shift towards Damian dripping chocolate onto his cape and it fades away from there.

You turn to Jason, lowering your voice to just below a whisper, “If you don’t like strawberry—”

“I like it,” he tells you, leaving no room to argue as he takes a bite.

Voicemail. 

Voicemail.

Voicemail. 

Voicemail.

Declined.

Voicemail.

Declined.

Declined. 

“I swear to God, he better be dead,” Stephanie mutters to herself.

She shuts her phone off and tosses it into the passenger seat with a huff. Her fingers drum against the steering wheel as she scans the sidewalk across from her car.

The night before the majority of the team had been involved in a less-than-successful plan, which some have called “a display of complete idiocy and inability to circumspect.”

Then Tim had to go and make a joke about that word choice in what was apparently a bad moment. This gave way to a harsher punishment of the team being forced to clean the batcave foot by square foot—notably, an impossible task.

So naturally, they had to retaliate.

The plan was to dismantle the batmobile piece by piece and leave it a collection of parts for Bruce to find. Problem being, the group as it stood didn’t possess the capability to do so without doing a great deal of damage to the parts. Damage, that the family was not willing to face extra retribution for.

Fortunately, they knew just the man for the job. 

Unfortunately, said man has devoted his life to ignoring their messages, favoring to live peacefully and distantly from them. And because that peace and distance does come with an add-on of borderline complete secrecy from his family, no one had any idea where to look for him.

So, Stephanie decided to do the next most rational thing and track down your location. She’d hoped he would be with you like he always is, but for seemingly the first time in the last year—he’s nowhere to be found.

Now, was revenge for a minor-slight by Bruce so important that it required Stephanie to take all of these steps to get a hold of Jason? No, absolutely not. She’s pretty sure that the others have already given up on it by now and started cleaning. But it’s about the principal. And also, she does not want to clean the floors of a cave.

She jumps up in her seat when she spots you exiting a store, scurrying to unbuckle and pry the car door open.

She’s across the street in half a second, running directly into your line of sight. It actually would’ve been very difficult for her to miss your line of sight, considering she’d landed only a good six inches in front of your face. “Hey!”   

“Oh, fuck—” you jump, grabbing your chest. You take a breath when you realize who it is, less surprised now by the theatrics of the introduction. “Hey Steph.”

“Hey,” she smiles casually, like she didn’t do what she just did. “So Jason’s been ignoring us and I need to get a hold of him,” she tells you.

You nod, still collecting yourself. “Oh. I don’t know where he is—”

She shakes her head, “That’s fine. Can I use your phone to call him?”

You frown, “Is something wrong?”

“With him, yeah,” she snarks. “I called him, Tim called him, Dick called him, Cass called him, Damian called him, we used Bruce’s phone to call him—that was a bit of a long shot, but still. This is our last option. Well, not our last option, if this doesn’t work I could get really invasive, but—” She shakes the thought from her head, “Nevermind.”

You nod blankly, taking in the mountain of information she’d just handed you. “How’d you know I was here?”

She scans your eyes back and forth for a second before her own widen in realization and she’s shaking her head. “No, no, don’t worry we’re not tracking you! I just hacked into the traffic cameras to find you.”

“Oh!” you exclaim, nodding some more. “Okay.”

You hand her your phone without any further questions—for your own sake—and she happily accepts. 

“You know I texted him 115 times?” she tells you as she scrolls through your contacts.

You furrow your eyebrows, watching her click his name and press the phone to her ear. “Did you count?”

“Well, I had the time, di—you son of a bitch! One ring?” Stephanie scorns into the phone.

You can hear Jason groan on the other end of the line. 

He says something to Stephanie that she follows up with a firm shake of her head.

“No,” she says defiantly. “She let me use it.”

Stephanie rolls her eyes, not pleased with his response. “What if it was an emergency?”

She listens for a second, skeptical look on her face.

She gasps suddenly, “I am not overstepping, we thought you were dead!”

Over the course of about ten seconds the shock on her face drops into just-been-caught guilt. “Well, I mean we considered it.”

You imagine Jason’s telling her to give you your phone back as she stands her ground, pushing, “If you promise to text me back.”

A short response on his end.

“Promise to text me back!”

There’s a brief lull before she’s giving a self-satisfied nod and jostling your phone back into your hands. “Here ya go. Thanks, babe!” She smiles wide at you before jogging back across the street, not waiting for the cars.

You smile as you watch her go, putting the phone up to your ear, “Hey Jay.”

You can hear the relief on the other end of the line. “Hey sweetheart. You know if you see Steph in public, you can just walk away?”

“I’m not going to walk away from your family.” You look again across the street, “Also I don’t think that was an option for me this time.”

“That thing is fucking scary.”

Cass smiles fondly, signing, “I think he’s cute.”

Tim eyes the way Salem traipses around his feet, yellow eyes staring up at him. “Why’s it even here?”

Jason rolls his eyes, continuing to scroll on his phone. “He’s hers. Deal with it.”

Tim scrunches up his mouth. “She knows I hate it. And she, unlike you, wouldn’t subject me to this just for the hell of it. So again I ask: why is it here?”

Jason huffs, looking up from his phone. “What do you want me to say? He wants to be.”

Tim scoffs at that, “‘It wants to be’? You’re the one who put it in the car.”

“No, I didn’t,” Jason says factually.

Tim looks at him sideways as Salem leaps onto Jason’s lap and nudges his hand up. Jason follows along as requested, petting the top of Salem’s head with an open palm. 

Tim squirms to the other side of the couch with a look of disgust on his face. Salem watches him the whole time.  

A smile adorns Cass’ face as she signs, “She says he can read people’s energy.”

Tim huffs, resting his head against his fist. “What does that even mean?”

The conversation is cut off by the clatter of you and Dick stumbling into the room, carrying a freshly painted headboard. Blue paint coats both of your hands and has no doubt stained your clothes.

You’re clearly struggling a bit to keep your grip on your end, the weight of the wooden frame dragging your arms down.

Jason stands and Salem flows along with his movements easily, leaping down onto the hardwood. He comes over and helps you lift your end of the frame with a stupid amount of ease, to the point that you’re not even holding any of the weight up anymore. The three of you—less so you—move the headboard and lean it up against the wall. After it's set down Jason steps back and looks over it gingerly.

“It looks good,” he murmurs to you, quiet enough to not give his brother the satisfaction of his approval.

Dick had asked you over to help him paint Damian’s bed frame as a surprise for him for not getting in any “altercations” at school this semester. You’d decided on coating it with his favorite color first and then fill it in with a collection of what Dick has “on good authority” are his favorite animals. It’s a fairly random assortment that you’re not sure adds to or disproves Dick’s credibility. You’d spent the better half of the afternoon googling animals you’d never heard of just to make sure you projected their likenesses accurately. Dick had been very clear that you had to be precise on the details because Damian would know if he was really looking at a komodo dragon painting or if it was “some common lizard.”

You sigh, “I hope he likes it. I’m worried we did it too childish for him.”

“He is a child,” Jason says plainly.

“But he is not childish,” you counter. And he sure isn’t. You’d had a hard enough time convincing Damian to watch cartoons, adding a colorful animal mural to his bedroom might be one step too far. You’re still trying to figure him out.

“He’ll like it,” he says firmly.

You smile, slipping around under his arm and tucking yourself into his side.

Not a moment later, Dick slings an arm around Jason's shoulder, grinning as he pulls his brother in close.

Jason’s immediately louring. "No, get away from me."

Dick, unfazed and still smiling, removes his arm and takes a big step to the right. You do the same, figuring he needs his space, but you get caught by the wrist before you can do more than sway to the side. 

“Not you.” 

He pulls you back under his arm, wrapping it around the front of your shoulders. You hook your fingers around his forearm, letting your hand hang.

You hear a double-clap from the other side of the room that has you both turning around to face Cass. 

She signs something to Jason with a fond smile on her face. 

You look back and forth between them as Jason waves her off. “What?”

He shakes his head, “It’s nothing. She said—she said we’re cute.”

You smile up at him and he deflects—not so subtly—and starts nudging you back towards where the group is gathered, now all standing. 

Dick’s quick to start bragging off to the room about how great of a job the two of you did and how really complex and daunting it actually is painting animals for a child.

As he talks, your eyes find Jason, who’s definitely about to roll his eyes any second now. A bit subconsciously, your hand comes up to brush Jason’s white streak of hair back, away from tickling his forehead. 

On the other side of Jason, Tim does the same, sweeping Jason’s hair back in a much more mocking manner. 

This gives way to Jason smacking his hand away, harder than he needed to.

"Wha—You let her do it!" Tim protests, overplaying how much the slap hurt.

Jason scowls, "She can do whatever she wants."

Tim drops his shoulders, looking at Jason as if he’d been scandalized. “Oh but I can’t?”

“Not if it involves touching me,” Jason grumbles.

Tim steps closer, putting a finger to Jason’s chest. “You’re such a—”

From the floor, Salem hisses up at Tim, successfully startling the teenager. “Auahh—”

He stumbles backwards, grimacing at the cat. 

“Fucking demon,” he hisses, walking away.

When Tim’s far enough away and Salem’s seemingly satisfied, he brushes up against your leg, purring. 

You peer down at him with a furrowed brow. 

“What’s Salem doing here?”

“I’m not doing this shit with you.”

“No, come on, 9 out of 10 times is what you said. How ‘bout just once? Beat me one time at anything, Jaybird.”

“Anything?” Jason asks like he knows damn well Dick can’t swear on that word.

Rightly so, Dick backtracks. “Something agreed upon.”

Jason throws his hands up, partially in exasperation, partially relenting.

Dick smoothly turns his back to him, announcing, “Opening up the room for ideas.”

Damian’s eye roll is almost audible from the corner armchair, where his attention is unmoved from intently sharpening a blade he’d recently come into possession of.

Bruce similarly remains unbothered in his seat, trying to read despite the distractions. 

“Ooh, okay. Okay.” Stephanie wiggles up a little on the couch. “You could race!”

Dick shakes his head negatively, “I literally just busted my knee up two days ago, Steph.”

“Convenient,” Jason mumbles.

“You were there!” Dick exclaims with an open mouth.

Steph continues, “Um…”

Cass waves to the room from her position upside down on the couch, head hanging down next to Stephanie’s legs. Attention successfully acquired, she signs, “Staring contest.”

Jason grimaces, “That sounds like a nightmare.”

Dick gives him a faux-smile.

“You should play chicken,” Damian chimes in, holding up his knife.

“No,” Bruce drones monotonously as he flips a page. 

“Tic tac toe?” Steph suggests.

Cass is already shaking her head as she scrunches up her mouth in thought.  

Jason rolls his eyes, “What are we, five?”

Dick nods, cracking his knuckles as he thinks. “No, we need something that really proves our worth.”

Bruce looks up from his book, staring numbly through his brow, but remains silent.

“You could arm wrestle,” Steph suggests.

The elder brother twitches at that, “Uh, no.”

Cass moves past that before a joke has the chance to be made. “Handstand contest?” she suggests.

Jason shrugs, “Yeah, sure.”

The elder brother looks at him incredulously. “You’ll do a handstand contest with me?”

“That’s what I just said.”

Dick scoffs, “Jaybird, I’m an acrobat, you’re just some guy.”

Jason, not giving him the courtesy of eye contact, pulls his sweatshirt off from his back. “Well, you’re a lot of things, aren’t you?”

Dick throws his head back with a squint.

Jason fishes his phone out of his pocket and Dick follows suit, offended stare maintaining all the while. 

No exchange is required as they both toss their phones across the room, landing together with a rough clatter on Damian’s lap. Damian’s resulting glare is borderline disgusted.

Dick starts them off, “Alright, go. One…two…”

Both men push up onto their hands, muscles flexing as they find their balance. Dick’s form is better, of course, but Jason looks to have a stronger foundation.   

They both hold strong as several minutes go by with the brothers only maintaining the attention of some of the room, and the interest of none of it.

Stephanie huffs and tilts her head, thoroughly unentertained with the consistency they’re both managing. 

“Starting to wish they’d picked something that moved along a little faster,” she murmurs to Cass.

Dick glances over at the younger brother, clearly displeased with his lack of trouble keeping up with him. He shuffles closer one hand at a time, using the decreased distance to poke at Jason with his foot, trying to knock him over.

Jason kicks him back harder, “Hey! Don’t be a dick—”

“Very funny,” Dick leers.

They both end up finding a struggle to keep balance and are forced to mind their own.  

A chime rings out from the corner that has heads turning briefly in his direction before coming back to the competition. 

“Whose was that?” Dick calls out.

Damian leans over and inspects the screens with disinterest. “Todd’s.”

Jason adjusts his position, “Who is it?”

Damian responds with your name. 

“And?”

He picks up the phone shrugging like he couldn’t care less, “She wants to know if you want to go see some movie.”

There’s a brief silence before Jason drops out of the handstand, standing up. 

Dick’s blood-flushed face peers up at him, bewildered. “Wait, what?”

The family watches with wide eyes as Jason picks his sweatshirt up off the floor and tugs it back on.

Stephanie gawks, bordering on laughing. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” he says simply.

Dick lets himself fall into a kneeling position with a huff, “You would rather go to some movie you don’t even know the name of than win a bet?”

Jason moues at him, “Uh, yeah.”

He tosses a twenty at Dick, and plucks his phone from Damian’s hand as he strolls past him, typing out a reply.

Cass sits up a bit and signs up to Stephanie, “Does he even like movies?” 

Bruce, now attention now fully removed from his book, watches Jason exit with the slightest hint of a smile. Dick sits dumbly on the floor, staring after him with an open-mouth. 

Damian twists the knife in his hands around contemplatively before rising to stand. 

“I will go,” he announces, dropping his blade onto the seat of the chair. Jason grumbles a no but Damian follows after him just the same.

you know what happened to the last guy that didn’t reblog? … 🔪🧨💥😵⚰️🪦

[dollishmehrayan]

# “THE WOMAN WAS TOO STUNNED TO SPEAK…” ── .✦ ( batboys w an unhinged!reader and blunt!reader )

a/n: this is from my little brain of mine , and I like to honor it for @kyriakis anywhoo I’m back and omg 1k?! Alsoo guys dw! I’m gonna do the event tomorrow && I’m gonna pick out some prompts I have organized, so i didn't forget okay but i just got a lot of DMs asking when I’m gonna do it for you guyss so yeah it’s gonna be tomorrow since I’m gonna re-edit + add some ideas of your guys votes!! Tags: (batboys x unhinged!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

He’s always caught off guard but loves it. Your bluntness is a breath of fresh air for Dick, who’s so used to diplomatic conversations. You say whatever’s on your mind with zero filter, and he’s like, “Oh, wow. Okay. I respect it.”

Hates it when you don’t hold back with him. He’s used to being the charming, funny guy who makes everyone laugh, but you hit him with a “That was dumb, don’t do that again” and his brain short circuits for a second. “You can’t just say that!” “Why not?”

Finds it hilarious when you wreck other people’s egos. You have zero time for anyone’s nonsense, and when someone messes up, you let them know. Dick’s in the background, trying not to laugh. “Do you not think before you speak?!…” He’s always acts so shocked but hey, he’s kinda enjoying it unless it’s aimed at him. (He can’t fight verbally for the life of him without saying some cringe shit)

Doesn’t even try to change you. Dick knows what he’s getting into, and he loves you for it. He’s never going to ask you to ‘tone it down.’ He actually finds your unapologetic attitude pretty hot.

He’s 50% worried you’ll get into trouble, 50% impressed. But in the end, he’ll always back you up, saying, “She’s just honest. Get used to it.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Finally, someone who speaks his language. Jason lives for the fact that you don’t care what people think. He loves how blunt you are, especially when you cut through the BS with the precision of a sharp knife.

Gets protective when people try to push your boundaries. If someone dares disrespect you, Jason’s the first one to step in. “You’ve got a problem with her? You’ve got a problem with me.”, “Jason that was so fucking cringey..”

Appreciates that you don't sugarcoat things for him. You’ll tell him exactly how it is, whether it’s about his attitude or a bad decision he made, and he respects it, it’s like the tt sound where “that’s when it hit me, it was the best idea I ever had..” but like this: “Not gonna lie, that was a terrible plan, Jay,” and he’ll just nod. “Fair.”

You guys have the most chaotic, weirdest conversations. It’s a mix of witty banter, ridiculous one-liners, and deadpan sarcasm. Other people can’t even keep up with the energy.

The idea of dating a ‘good girl’ never appealed to him anyway. He thrives off your unhinged energy. You’re unpredictable, and it keeps him on his toes, which he loves. “Yeah, you’re definitely not boring.” (Although the thing is he does love innocent people, like if you’re like gen clueless he wants preserve your innocence.)

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Tim’s brain can’t keep up with you. Your blunt, no-nonsense attitude constantly makes him blink in confusion. One minute you’re casually roasting someone, and the next, you’re giving a straight-up critique of his latest plan. He’s learning that he can’t outthink you.

He admires your unapologetic honesty. Tim has a lot of internalized doubts, so watching you casually reject anyone’s judgment is a nice contrast. You don’t apologize for your thoughts, and it’s something he secretly admires.

Constantly second-guesses himself around you. Your sharp tongue makes him want to be as confident as you. He gets nervous about saying anything that might sound soft, so when he stumbles, you’re like, “What was that? I swear you just whispered something.” And he’ll blush hard, muttering an apology.

You both have a sarcastic sense of humor that others don’t quite get. You say something outrageous, and Tim will respond with the driest remark possible. People in the room often wonder if you two are joking or just genuinely a bit rude.

Not scared to call him out. When Tim’s too nice, you’ll be like, “You need to stop letting people walk all over you. Grow some teeth.” Tim won’t admit it, but that does motivate him to be a little bolder.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Damian is a bit taken aback at first. He’s used to people being respectful or like seeing him as kinda a role model, so when you come out with a “That’s dumb, don’t even talk to me right now,” he’s not sure how to handle it. He will stand there, blinking, while processing your bluntness. (He’s too stunned to speak 😞)

Genuinely respects your forthrightness, though. “I’ll admit, I have never met someone so… honest.” He starts respecting you even more, thinking you’re someone he can’t manipulate or charm easily.

Loves that you’re as stubborn as he is. If you’re determined about something, there’s no changing your mind. You’ll fight for your opinions even if it gets you into a heated debate. And Damian’s right there with you, arguing like it’s the most fun thing in the world.

Tries to match your bluntness. “You talk too much,” he says one day, and you immediately reply, “And yet, here you are, listening to every word I say.” Damian actually pauses for a second, impressed. “Right..”

Loves how you’ll shut down his critics with zero hesitation. Someone says something disrespectful to him, and you’ll be the first to shoot back, “He doesn’t need your advice, trust me.” He’ll give you a proud little smirk. “I like the way you handle things.”

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

At first, Bruce is a bit disconcerted by your bluntness. Bruce’s the kind of guy who expects people to be formal and classy, and you just come in with “This entire meeting is a waste of my time. I don’t care about any of this.” He blinks, then quietly admires your bravery.

Totally respects your unfiltered honesty. Bruce has had enough of the world’s games, so when you don’t bother to pretend or hold anything back, it’s like a breath of fresh air for him.

Secretly loves when you don’t play nice." He knows you're not afraid of saying what you think, and when you call him out on his brooding or overly protective behavior, he listens. “You’re right. I’m sorry for not trusting you more.” (He totally doesn’t have a tracker on your hair clip..🥰)

You both have moments of pure savage honesty that no one else gets. There’s no need for filters, and you’ll both exchange one-liners so dry that it leaves everyone else in the room confused.

Finds it endearing when you make his plans more interesting. “This is ridiculous. Why are we doing this again?” You snap at him in a room full of his board members, and he just gives you a look that says, “I’m never apologizing for you.”

[cursedyuri]

a/n: surprise! here’s a little somethin’ while i work on my next fics. mwah mwah happy saturday!

cw: 18+ as always, minors dni. sub!ellie, dom!reader, oral sex (e receiving), choking, tribbing, some…controlling aspects, multiple orgasms

ellie’s got it bad for you.

so bad, she doesn’t have it in her to be embarrassed when jesse and dina catch her staring at you in the middle of band practice, eyes glazed over, nodding along with whatever they’re saying even when she’s got nothing in her head but you you you.

it’s frustrating sometimes, what you do to her. she’s less efficient as a songwriter and guitar player—always casting glances at you in the middle of practice, chewing her lip till it damn near bleeds because it’ll keep her from making a mess of her boxer briefs. always picturing your pretty lips around her strap, you kneeling before her while she face-fucks you till you gag and choke. always tilting her head when you stand up from your seat beside her, going off to rifle through your purse for something, just praying she’ll get a glimpse at your panties when your skirt rides up.

when the rest of the band filters out and it’s just you two, she gets you in her lap, kissing you silly. you’re so perfect in her arms, smiling shyly when she pulls back and covers your face in chaste, adoring kisses.

“we should go,” you say, glancing at the clock on the wall. she frowns and you catch it, adding, “i really need to study, finals are next week.”

“you’re gonna kill ‘em, babe,” she assures you, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. your cheeks go pink. she could eat you whole. “smartest girl i know. smartest person, actually.”

you giggle, a sound that makes ellie’s stomach flip. and then your expression shifts from carefree to hesitant, and she furrows her brows. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing, i’m sorry—i was gonna ask if you wanted to help me study? i have flash cards.”

ellie grins. “i can do flash cards.”

it’s not the first time ellie’s been at your house, but it is the first time she’s pulled into the driveway and noticed that your parents aren’t home. she casts a glance at you in the passenger’s seat while she pulls the keys from the ignition, but if you notice that she’s wondering about the lack of two mercedes in the driveway, you don’t let on. you give her one of those sickeningly sweet smiles and her heart hammers.

inside, you stop in the kitchen to fix a couple glasses of pink lemonade with twisty straws and fresh lemon slices, then lead her up the stairs to your bedroom. ellie tries (and fails) to avert her eyes from the place where your thigh-highs squish into the meat of your legs, the skin pooling out of the fabric good enough to eat. she has to think about the worst things to keep her cunt from throbbing. dead puppies, shit like that.

“i’m so stressed,” you confess as you open the door to your bedroom, ellie striding in behind you.

“why, princess? you’ll do great.” she takes her glass of lemonade when you offer it, sips from the straw and beams at you.

your room suits you perfectly. all shades of white and pink, floral print everywhere, heart-shaped pillows, cute bunny plushies organized carefully on the bed. it smells like sugar cookies and your perfume. ellie watches you locate your study materials, then sort through them till you find the necessary flash cards. she starts looking through them while you climb onto the bed, your skirt riding up to expose a new sliver of your thighs. if there is a god, he’s got it out for ellie today.

“come here, el,” you pout, holding out your hands for her.

“don’t be impatient, now.” she joins you on the bed despite her better judgment. looks down at the flash cards and struggles to read the first one because her blood is rushing south at a dizzying rate.

“uh—eukaryotic cells.”

“cells which have a nucleus enclosed within the nuclear membrane.”

ellie gapes at you. “okay, smarty pants, you got it. prokaryotic cells?”

you answer and she shuffles through to the next card, continuing to prompt your spot-on definitions until it becomes clear that you’re more than ready for your final. it only takes five minutes to make it through the entire stack of cards. and then you’re asking her to kiss you.

“baby,” she mutters, leaning over the side of the bed to set the flash cards onto the floor, “i’ve been waiting for you to ask.”

just like every other time, your mouth tastes like heaven. sweet from the pink lemonade, your tongue dances over hers, soft moans leaving your lips for her to swallow eagerly. the two of you have made out more times than ellie can count on both hands, but it never leads any further. something always comes up—you have to get to bed, dinner’s ready downstairs, things like that. more often than not, you stop because ellie feels like she’s going to lose control of herself and scare you away.

but this time, it’s different.

your hands, soft and warm, skate up ellie’s tattooed arms. your perfectly manicured nails rake through her hair. your eyes are blown nearly black with lust when you pull away, staring up at ellie like you’re silently begging to be fucked.

“ellie,” you whisper, frustrated by the sliver of mattress that separates the two of you.

“yeah, yeah, angel, i’ve got you.” she closes the gap, climbing between your spread legs until she’s hovering over you. she nudges her nose against your cheekbone. “so pretty underneath me.”

and god, you are so pretty underneath her. white off-the-shoulder top skewed from her touches, lips swollen, soft locks of hair splayed around your head. that look in your eyes that says i’m yours, please take me. she wants to hear you scream her name.

the lewd, wet sounds of your make-out sesh go right to her cunt; she doesn’t even realize she’s grinding down against you until she feels your hips move in response, in search of friction. the sensation draws a ragged moan from her, and then she’s grabbing at your thighs with a touch that will certainly bruise. you won’t be wearing a skirt this short tomorrow.

“take this off,” you breathe when you pull back from the heated kiss. you’re tugging at her tattered band tee. “and your pants.”

a surprised huff of laughter leaves her lips. “whoa there, sweetheart. you sure?”

her eyes find yours. she’s just as turned on as you are, but she can still stop while she’s ahead. now, if you get her down to her boxers? that might not be so easy to come back from.

you stare back at her, unblinking. “i’m sure.”

sitting back on her heels, ellie keeps her eyes on you while she works her shirt up over her head. she revels in the way your eyes leave hers, only to admire the sight of her naked torso, her ample tits with dusty rose nipples. your tongue swipes over your lips. her clit twitches.

she has to get up to take her pants off, and when she does, she notices that you’re not making any efforts to undress yourself. she stops with her belt unbuckled, button undone, zipper pulled down. “what, i don’t get to see my girl naked?”

“only if you’re good,” you say with a wicked smile. it catches her off guard, hearing a comment like that from you, but it does encourage her to push her jeans down to her ankles.

when she gets back on the bed and kisses you again, you’re not as soft. not as pliable, like putty in her hands. no, you’re insistent—your tongue breaches her mouth almost instantly and you lick into her until he’s nearly panting. you’re sitting up in your disheveled clothing, holding her face and kissing her like you’re going to swallow her whole. given the fact that you’re usually the one on the receiving end of kisses like this, ellie’s surprised. she breaks the kiss and gives you a look - one you feign ignorance to.

“i’m—sorry, am i reading this wrong? i thought… aren’t you a virgin?”

you smile at her, eyes heavy-lidded. “oh, ellie, baby.”

the way you sound makes her go dizzy for a second. sultry, raspy, sexy. your voice must’ve dropped a couple octaves. you’re not a virgin, she suddenly realizes, not even close. not when you’re dipping your head into her neck and smothering her with hot, wet kisses, your hand moving to grope at the wet spot soaking through the thin fabric of her boxers, fingertips tracing heavy over the outline of her pussy. a moan leaves her lips before she can think to stifle it. worse, she bucks her hips up to chase your touch.

you suck your teeth. disapproving.

“eager, aren’t you?” you move to climb off the bed, kneeling beside it. the sensation of your fingers, skating right over the waistband of her boxers, makes her whimper. she whimpers.

“baby, you’re killing me,” she chokes out. you run a french-tipped nail over her sparse happy trail. she bites her lip.

“i know,” you respond, and your voice is still sickly sweet. “but i’ll take care of you, el. don’t you want that?”

she’s not sure what that means exactly, but she finds herself nodding quickly.

turns out that it means eating her pussy like a fucking porn star.

you’d ripped off her boxers in one swift motion, then spit a glob of saliva onto her flushed, aching clit. wasting no time at all, you’d slid your fingers through her cunt with the lubrication of your own spit, and finally, when she didn’t think it could get better, you’d put your mouth on her. and that’s what it’s been like for the past few minutes. you’re tongue-fucking her now, face buried so deep between her legs she can’t imagine how you’re not gasping and sputtering for air.

“jesus christ, babe,” she gasps, involuntarily thrusting her hips up. your tongue pushes further into the constricting heat of her cunt and she throws her head back, overcome with bliss. but then you’re pulling back, mouth leaving her soaked pussy. the loss makes her whine again.

“wh—what happened?” she’s dazed.

“you’re being a fucking brat,” you respond as you rub a hand over your mouth to wipe away the wetness. “can’t just let me eat you out, huh? have to push it. god, ellie.”

you sound genuinely pissed off, so she flushes red with embarrassment and gives you an apologetic look. “i’m so sorry, i couldn’t—”

“—couldn’t control yourself?”

she stares, mouth hanging open. you laugh, a humorless chuckle. and then you’re standing up, reaching under your skirt to slide your panties down your thighs.

“listen, baby,” you say as you step out of your underwear and move to straddle your girlfriend’s thighs. “if we’re gonna fuck, you need to learn how to control yourself. be a good girl for me. can you do that?”

in all of her daydreams about your first time having sex as a couple, she’d never imagined this.

“yes,” she hears herself say. “i can do that.”

“do what?”

“i can…” ellie’s cunt weeps another rush of wetness. “i can be a good girl.”

satisfied, you reach down to swipe your fingers through her folds—still sticky and wet from your unfinished head. “when i ride you, i don’t want to hear a sound. okay?”

“o-okay.” she’d agree to anything at this point. she’s under a trance. your rose-scented, strawberry-flavored hypnotism.

when you finally slide into a comfortable position, bare, soaked cunts sliding against one another, she bites her tongue so hard she swears she tastes blood. a strangled, ragged sigh leaves her nose, nostrils flaring as you lift your hips and move them back again. you’re wet, soft, and skilled with your hips. everything she’s dreamed of and more. she wants to moan your name, but the way you’re looking at her, like a siren ready to drag her underwater, it keeps her from making a single fucking peep. she lets you take what you need, content to stare in awe as your tits bounce beneath your pristine white shirt.

“doing so well for me,” you praise, hips circulating in a good rhythm now. “you can talk, baby—tell me, how’s my pussy feel?”

“fuuuuck,” she practically wails, “you’re so good, god, feels s’fucking good.”

“mm,” you hum. you’ve found a rotation to hit a spot that fills you with white-hot pleasure, and each time you lift your hips and rub against her again, you feel yourself getting closer and closer to an orgasm. “your cunt feels good, el. might come soon, would you like that?”

she nods. you can feel her hips twitch, like she’s dying to fuck herself up against you, but you’re so close to the edge that you don’t have it in you to chastise her. you do, however, have it in you to tell her, “beg for my cum, then. be a good girl, you said you’d be a good girl.”

“please,” she gasps, feeling your cunt twitch against hers, “please, baby, need your cum.”

she’s getting close too, so she doesn’t feel embarrassed that you’ve got her whining, desperate for you to cream all over her. it’s hot, actually, the fact that she’s begging for you. her sweet, innocent little girlfriend, giving her the ride of her life and making her beg for you. she’d never considered this. stupid of her.

emboldened by her impending orgasm, ellie reaches for one of your hands and moves it from her shoulder to her throat. her eyes are wide and pleading when you look down at her. relief overcomes her features when you adjust your grip and then squeeze, her pulse thudding beneath your fingertips.

this is new for her. it’s all new for her. but when you come with your hand around her throat and your cunt sliding, drenched, against hers, she can’t help but scold herself internally for not doing this sooner. you don’t whimper or cry when you come, but you do say her name, drawing it out in that low, gravelly voice of yours that she hadn’t heard until today. and that’s enough for her to reach her own high, coming with a ragged groan. a mistake that she doesn’t process until she’s spent, panting, still dizzy with the fading pleasure that leaves her in waves.

you’ve gone still on top of her.

she looks at you and finds your expression displeased.

“i’m—shit, i’m so sorry. i’m so sorry, sweetheart, I really wasn’t thinking.”

“i can tell,” you say, voice flat. she moves to lift you from her lap, intending to get up and clean you both up, but you swat her hands away. “did i say we’re done?”

she stutters for a second before she can get out real words. “no, you…didn’t.”

“i can tell you’re going to be a tough one,” you sigh, “but you’ll learn.”

and with that, you start moving your hips again. the overstimulation on ellie’s still-sensitive clit makes her jolt, but one pointed look from you has her going still again. your hips form slow, narrow circles. cum seeps out of your cunt and leaks down onto hers.

after an agonizing minute or two, the pain of overstimulation melts into pleasure. you notice ellie’s expression change, a wrinkle forming between her brows again.

“there’s a good girl.” your praise is music to her ears. her lips open to allow her to breathe as heavy as she needs to, heaving gasps that go straight to your sopping cunt. you gush even wetter.

“mmph, fuck,” ellie groans. she shoots a worried glance up at your domineering face, but when she finds that you’re gazing down at her with unbridled lust in your eyes, she relaxes again.

“you can make as much noise as you want now, pretty girl,” you assure her. “i wanna hear how good i make you feel. even when you’ve—mm, even when you’ve been a bad girl. and you don’t deserve it.”

if she weren’t already turned on again, she is now. you start to ride her in earnest again, fucking down onto her in a rhythm that has the entire room ringing out with sounds of skin slapping against skin. she grabs your hips to hold herself steady, but then you push her shoulders until she falls back onto the mattress. your hands grab her wrists, and she’s entirely unsurprised when you pin them above her head and ride her faster, harder—she’s unsurprised, but it still makes her cry out in pleasure.

“baby, i need you to apologize,” you coo down at ellie as you continue your relentless riding.

“h-huh?”

“apologize for coming without permission,” you clarify, voice just a little strained.

“oh,” ellie says. her brows are pulled together; her face is all twisted up in an absolutely sinful expression, one that makes your cunt feel impossibly wetter. “i’m sorry, babe, i already said sorry.”

“then say it again, if i tell you to.” you lift your hips until you’re barely touching her, and when she starts to sputter pathetic, whiny apologies in an endless stream, you drop your greedy cunt back onto hers.

“you really are a brat,” you tell her. it’s getting harder to talk to her like this, straight-faced and patronizing, because you’re getting close again. but you steel yourself and go on. “such a bad girl, what should i do with you, hm?”

“anything,” ellie blabbers, wrists flexing in your grasp, “i’ll do anything—i’ll let you do anything to me.”

“oh?” you smile, still gasping lungfuls of air, exhausted but chasing your second climax. you lean forward and lick along the angle of ellie’s jaw, up up up to her ear. she shivers violently as you whisper, “you’d let me fuck your tight little hole?”

you can’t see her face with your mouth against her neck, kissing and sucking and biting at her sensitive skin, but you imagine that she looks shocked. and you don’t blame her. you’ve got your good girl act down, you have for years. and ellie fell for it, bless her heart. she probably thought this would go differently; probably imagined she’d be the one overstimulating you and making you whine and beg and whimper, shaking like a leaf as you near another orgasm. but here you are.

and you’re glad she so obviously likes it.

“yes,” ellie hisses through her teeth. “yes, yes, i’d—you could fuck me, whatever you want.”

“bet you’d love it,” you tell her honestly. “you’d love having your pretty pussy stuffed with my cock, wouldn’t you?”

you’re practically dripping sweat at this point from the exertion of tribbing, clothes clinging to your body with perspiration. under your skirt, ellie’s pelvis is drenched with sex.

“yessssss,” she cries out, eyes squeezing shut. “i’d l-love it, yes, fuck…”

“are you gonna come for me, pretty girl? you can—you’ve already made such a mess.”

she’s nodding, gasping. crying, even. you don’t notice until she sniffles, drawing your attention to her reddened face. her cheeks shine with tears. you coo a gentle good girl at her and she lets a high moan loose.

“come, el. come for me.”

she doesn’t need much encouragement, she really doesn’t, but your command pushes her over the edge. coming with a cry that nearly tears her throat apart, she shakes and shivers in your hold until you finally let up and slow your rolling hips. ellie looks so beautiful when she comes, and right after, too. dazed, pussy drunk, eyes foggy. lips chewed raw. tears still wet at the corners of her eyes.

“you didn’t come again,” she points out. she sounds so small.

“i know,” you agree. “but you can fix that, sweet girl.”

finally releasing her wrists from your grip, you roll onto the bed beside her on your back. you reach a hand between your legs and swipe your fingers through the puffy folds of your cunt, releasing a satisfied hum when you feel how soaked you are.

you’re surprised when you look up and find her already making her way between your legs, eyes glued to your pussy.

“i can fix it,” she repeats. “can i taste you?”

“oh, ellie,” you say, “i knew you’d be a good girl. go ahead.”

[pathologicalreid]

card trick | s.r.

in which you broach a subject with Spencer that you're sure will be a dealbreaker - you don't want kids

margovember

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: flangst content warnings: child-free by choice, magic tricks, selfishness (like. reader thinks she's selfish), chemist!reader word count: 1.08k a/n: this was lowkey hard to write because i do in fact want kids myself and i'm such a dad!spencer truther. but there was some fun within the challenge!!! ily <3

“Do you want to talk about it?” Spencer asked, watching as you braced yourself against the wall and kicked off your shoes, nudging them in the hallway until they were in place.

You hummed in response, “About what?” You inquired casually, proceeding to hand your coat on the rack and pull the sleeves of your sweater down. Avoiding his gaze, you bulldozed through to the kitchen, searching through the cabinets for an appropriate mug to make tea in.

He followed you to the kitchen, grabbing a mug and holding it out for you to take. You didn’t live here, but you knew your way around so well that someone might’ve gotten that idea. “Whatever it is that made you get so quiet tonight,” Spencer prodded, leaning over the kitchen counter and propping himself up.

Filtering through his tea collection, you faltered for a moment before continuing, picking a chamomile tea bag and flicking on the electric kettle. The two of you had just gotten back from dinner at Rossi’s, your second one since you and Spencer had started dating, where you watched Spencer spend hours doing magic tricks with Henry and Jack. You shook your head, watching the water in the kettle as it began to boil.

“Are you feeling alright?” Spencer asked, wondering if you had a physical ailment that was causing you to shut down. He had picked you up straight from work, maybe you were just exhausted.

This time you nodded, opening the wrapper for the tea bag and tossing the foil in the bin, “Yeah, long day,” you admitted, “Did you want tea?”

Spencer was quiet for a moment, watching as you instinctively grabbed another mug and prepared a cup of tea for him as well. It was starting to get chilly outside, so a warm tea was likely to have healing properties, “Have I done something?”

Now, you ignored his question, grabbing the mugs and bringing them over to the coffee table. You sat on the couch, nestling yourself into the corner and pulling a knit blanket over your lap. In your periphery, you watched him sit on the opposite side of the couch, and it was beyond your control when you finally spoke up, “Do you want kids?”

“I’ve never really given it much thought,” he responded, and you nearly flinched at his answer, convinced he was lying to save your feelings.

You shifted on the couch, staring down into the murkiness of your tea, “What does that mean?”

He pressed his lips in a thin white line for a moment as if he were considering his options, “I’ve never really been in a relationship where that was a discussion to have, so I’ve never done an in-depth evaluation of whether or not I want kids of my own.” He set his mug down on the coffee table and turned to you, “But I take it you have.”

Slowly, you nodded, skimming the handle of your mug with the pad of your thumb, “I don’t want kids,” you whispered, closing your eyes as soon as the words were out there.

Spencer was quiet, and you were afraid that the finality in your voice would be the reason you lost him forever. No more BAU family dinners at Rossi’s. No more phone calls seeking help on a case. No more whispering nonsensical science puns to each other in the middle of the night when you should be asleep. You were surprised when he answered, “That’s okay with me.”

You lifted your head, craning your neck to the side so you could determine whether or not he was messing with you. Instead, earnest brown eyes stared back at you, “It is?”

He shrugged lightly, “Admittedly, I’m not too fond of the idea of choosing between a family and the BAU. I’ve seen enough wedges driven and bridges burned to know that that’s not something I want to experience first-hand.”

“It’s just never felt like the right thing for me,” you elaborated on your own feelings, still not convinced of his. “Sometimes I… I think I’m too selfish to be a mother,” you confessed, setting your mug down and pulling your knees to your chest. “I see people around me and the things they sacrifice for their children, and I don’t think that could ever be something I do, Spence. It’s not in the cards for me.”

Cocking his head at you, Spencer studied you for a moment, “If you don’t want to be a mother, then you don’t have to.”

Your eyes burned fiercely at his words, so shocked by his response to what had sent previous boyfriends running for the hills. “I think maybe you should take some time to think about this because you said you never have before,” you advised him cautiously, setting your chin on your knee.

He shook his head dismissively, “I don’t need to think about it. If it’s a choice between you and some hypothetical children, then it’s really no choice at all.”

Closing your eyes, you let tears fall freely down your cheeks, “I just don’t want you to wake up someday and resent me for not giving you children. I don’t want you to roll over in bed and think about how I’ve somehow failed you.”

It was that statement that prompted Spencer to reach out to you, he tenderly looped an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your temple. “I could never resent you for making a decision about yourself like that, do you understand?”

“You’re just so good with them,” you bemoaned, recalling the flashing images of Spencer doing card tricks for the kids and refusing to reveal his secrets to them.

Spencer smiled softly at you, “It’s easy when you don’t actually have to do the raising of the children. I’m more than comfortable with my title of godfather and uncle.”

“But what if you need more?” You asked desperately, still horrified by your hypothetical day where Spencer wakes up with hate in his heart.

His other arm looped around you, pulling you closer to him, “Trust me when I say this: you are more than enough for me.” He squeezed you gently, “I can be good with kids and be perfectly content with never having any of my own. Those two things can coexist.”

Nodding absentmindedly, you leaned your head onto his shoulder, “Thank you,” you breathed, silent tears still streaming down your cheeks only to be swept away by your boyfriend’s deft fingers.

[moonlight-prose]

HEART MADE OF GLASS

a/n: this is totally not to make myself feel better. totally not self indulgent cause i couldn't finish cooking my dinner last night. that gif is also self indulgent. but also hopefully a distraction from how angsty this kind of is. divider as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics.

summary: you couldn't control when they could come. the waves of nothingness - of battling with your body and mind in the hopes it would cause a shift. you wanted to control it. he simply wanted to help.

word count: 1.1k

pairing: logan howlett x reader

warnings: angst, fluff, disassociating, depression isn't outright stated but that's what it is, meat eating (sorry i'm an iron anemic bitch), logan's love language being acts of service.

The fire alarm never went off when you were in the kitchen. So he felt his heart jump at the sound of it blaring through the small apartment. Even down the hall and in the bathroom he smelled the bitter smoke as it rose from the pan you were currently staring at. A blank expression on your face and hand gripping the handle.

He meant to grab his flannel and join you for dinner. What he didn't expect was the emptiness of a silent kitchen not filled with your usual music. Your soft hums as you try to keep in tune with the song.

Logan's favorite pastime was standing in the doorway watching you cook whatever creation came to mind. Whether it tasted good or positively vile, he'd eat it one way or another. He'd swallow happily with a grin simply to see that smile bloom across your face. A look he did everything possible to keep right where it was meant to be.

"Bub?"

You startled, flinching at the sound of the alarm as you shoved the pan away from the burner. "Shit. Sorry."

A frown etched onto his face at your quick apology—your eyes never quite meeting him. "Everythin' okay?"

"Yeah," you said, lying right through your teeth. "I just got distracted."

Logan could hear the bullshit louder than the alarm. He knew something was wrong, because he'd seen it before. The silence that filled a once loud household. How you slowed down during the day, unable to finish simple tasks without pushing yourself over the edge. He watched you dwindle down to the barest bones your body had to offer and yet you never asked him for help.

You never explained why it occurred.

This wasn't in part because you didn't want to. You did. You simply held no real reason for why your body—your mind—chose to betray you at the oddest of times. At first you figured it was the lack of sleep. The restlessness that ate away at your body each night—keeping you up and active until finally you wore yourself out.

But this wasn't that.

This came from deep inside your chest, lingering beneath the surface—waiting for something good to happen before it struck with a vengeance. This protruded out of your very nightmares.

"Need some help?" He knew the answer before it came. No.

What could he possibly do that you hadn't tried a million times over? There was no easy fix for something this brutal. Silently, you begged him to leave the kitchen and find something else to occupy his time. He stubbornly stood behind you, watching over your shoulder as you dumped the now burned pan in the sink. What might have been a delicious steak now looked like a charred brick.

The sight of it still smoking only seemed to dampen your mood further.

You fought to keep yourself there, in the moment. But the dazed expression from earlier began to slowly trail its way back up your face. Until you could do nothing but stare at the mess you made, exhaustion slicing down to your bones.

His looming presence became an afterthought to all that filtered through your head. All the brittle and vile thoughts you tried to keep at bay. Some days they managed to weasel their way past your infinite walls. Some days...they found joy in tearing you up inside little by little.

Voicing it aloud though would never be an option to the havoc you tried to tame.

"C'mon," he muttered, his hands pulling at your hips to move you. "Out of the kitchen."

"I can finish–"

His glare was devastating.

Most of the time you'd ask him to tell you what he was thinking. Tonight you understood his demand. Get out of the kitchen before you hurt yourself. Let him do what you often did for everyone else.

Give him the chance to put you first.

He points to the chair originally pulled out for him. "Sit down."

But unlike other people he encountered, you were far more stubborn. "I don't–"

"Sit on the chair bub. Or I'll tie you to it." The grin he gives you is filled with sarcasm, but you can see the truth shining in his eyes. He wouldn't hesitate to follow through on a promise like that. He wouldn't even blink. "Your choice."

There was no argument left to throw at him, because his attention was elsewhere. So you sat. You allowed yourself to rest as he stumbled his way through the kitchen. Logan couldn't really cook. He picked up what he could through the life he lived, but nothing came out exactly perfect. That wasn't what warmed your heart at the sight of him standing there intent on delivering a meal worth eating.

He didn't shy away when you tried to push. When the horror that you needed someone to help was no longer a fact you could ignore. No matter how hard you shoved and bit and did what you could to scare him off. Logan pushed back. He quelled your bite with a stature of resolute stoicism.

With an exhale, he flipped the burner off and slid whatever he'd made onto a clean plate. Watching him move felt as if you were being placed in a trance. You almost told him that once in your first week of dating. Something told you he already knew by the way your eyes tracked him from the kitchen to the table.

"Steak," he said, sitting with a grunt.

A quick glance told you one thing. Logan didn't know shit about cooking steak.

You grinned nonetheless.

"There's..." Red spilled down the side, pooling on the plate as steam hit your face. "How long did you cook it?"

He shrugged, slicing it with ease and plopping a piece into his mouth. "Tastes fine to me."

"I'm sure it does."

"Watch it bub," he muttered mid chew, his lips curled into a smirk.

Making a show of zipping your lips shut, you took the piece he offered you. And as he did each time before, you ate it with a grin simply to watch his smirk turn into a smile. There may have been no salt, no extra flavor, and strangely a charred sensation with each bite. But you could taste the love spreading across your tongue with ease.

"Delicious," you garbled in the hopes he'd understand how much you loved him.

He snorted, shoving the plate to the center of the table. His thumb swiped at the juice that leaked from the corner of your mouth, causing your heart to jump erratically in your chest. Even on your bad days he managed to flip the switch in your mind with simple touches and soft looks.

"'M gonna order a pizza."

Leaning into his hand, you pressed a kiss to his wrist. "Thank you."

[koolades-world]

there was never a boring moment with the brothers, and roadtrips were arguably the most interesting.

to start, the car was barely large enough for all of you. the back row technically only had two seats, but you crammed and made it work. however, that was only the beginning of your problems.

you might have been able to (barely) for the entire family in the car, but that left little to no space for bags. you, levi, lucifer, and beel essential played a huge game of tetris, slotting in luggage where you could, and as much as you could. some of the luggage did have to go on the roof, but it was a necessary sacrifice.

the next issue that always rose inevitably was the seating arrangements.

lucifer and mammon were the only two who drove. you could, but were usually needed to help break up bickering, even if mammon was supposed to be busy with driving.

something that didn't change, regardless of the driver, was the levi was happy sitting in the back row. he had his own set up, no matter where in the row he was. belphie was also happy in the very back, as long as he had his cow spot pillow and blanket. beel also always sat in the middle row, because he needed the space.

when lucifer drove, while he'd prefer to have you on the passengers side, it usually went to asmo. he and mammon were the two biggest instigators, and mammon was more likely to cause issues up front. asmo was actually helpful, and helped lucifer with whatever he needed. this left satan, you, and mammon. of course, everyone wanted you to sit next to them. because of this, the three of you rotated where you sat. when mammon got too rambunctious with asmo, he'd be banished to the back row. when satan got too worked up with being in the same car as lucifer for too long, he went to the back to unwind. and when you were tired, you curled up with belphie in the back.

when mammon drove, asmo couldn't sit up front, so lucifer would instead. this left asmo, satan, and you to rotate through the car, so you did so in a similar way when lucifer drove.

whoever sat on the passengers side had to help with navigating, and collecting the consensus from the rest of the car for breaks and food. it was a job both lucifer and asmo excelled at for very different reasons. stops didn't happen often when lucifer drove, but mammon seemed willing to stop every half hour if nobody stopped him.

depending on where you sat in the car, what you'd spend your time doing varied. if you were in the back row, you were usually slumped against belphie, fast asleep. somehow, he made it comfortable. if you happened to be awake, levi would be telling you all about what he happened to be playing. if you were in the middle row, you were welcome to help yourself to whatever beel was munching on. if asmo was next to you, the two of you spent most of your time messing around with filters. there were hundreds, and some were better than others, so you always ended up with at least a couple silly photos to help you remember the trip by. if you were next to satan, you were guaranteed a quiet seat mate. the only thing he wanted was to hold your hand while he silently read <3. if you were next to mammon, the complete opposite was true. he was constantly flapping his gums, whether than be arguing with one of his brothers, or rambling to you about his last ear modeling gig. either way though, you still enjoyed his comforting presence. his voice could never become grating to you. if, for whatever reason, you happened to find yourself in the passengers seat, you were treated like the passenger princess you deserved to be. you got to control the music, and you were always treated to whatever amenities you wanted.

however chaotic the trip might be, you always enjoyed it. part of the journey was the road you took to get there, not just the final destination. the brothers probably would’ve ripped each other apart without you in the car anyways. what was a family vacation without the newest member?

[monstersholygrail]

Rewarding Bad Behavior

Puppy Hybrid bf x fem!reader— pet play, tail plug, double penetration (plug), leashing to the wall, breath play, body worship

You had been bad recently whenever your Puppy Hybrid bf left you alone at the house. You would get into get into the pillows, shredding them up until feathers were everywhere, you’d break vases running around, and you’d always leave such a mess for him to come home to.

But you couldn’t help it. You missed him. He always seemed to be going out lately, leaving you home alone and bored. He taught you how to be a good pet for him, but he never taught you how to handle missing him. So you acted out.

You hated disappointing him and seeing him all upset at you. You hated being called a bad girl even more. You wanted to be good for him, you wanted it more than anything. If only he was around more then you’d get to show him that.

But he wasn’t and you can’t seem to get over that fact as you pace throughout the house. You swallow your moans as the pup tail plug snugly sunk into your bottom brushes along your walls with every step. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction even when he isn’t here to see it or feel how soaked your panties are.

As you walk down the hall your eyes catch onto the framed photos on the wall. Dozens of photos lined up of you and your Puppy Hybrid bf. You pout at them, growing more upset by the second. Wondering why he didn’t do fun stuff with you anymore. You tried your best to be good and he couldn’t see that.

The only time you truly get his attention is when you’re bad…

You hesitantly reach out toward one of the frames, lifting it off the wall. Your fingers trace the happy expressions on you and your Puppy Hybrid bf’s face. With a big ole huff you swing your arm up and throw the frame onto the floor. The shattering glass giving a satisfying crunch.

The rest is honestly all a blur. Your body moving on its own, your mind empty. All you could focus on is the crunch of glass.

A loud whistle pierces through the air, stopping your movements instantly. You pant heavily, your vision clearing as you meet your bfs livid eye. You shrink back at the fury in his gaze and the way his dog ears stand up all alert. Small whimpers leave you as you’re caught in the act.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Your bf growls. The sight of your broken memories pinching at his heart.

You didn’t know what you expected. All you wanted was his attention. You didn’t really think about getting in trouble. In the lesson he might have to teach you.

Despite your nervousness, you can’t help but feel a flicker of arousal shoot through you. Your thoughts filtering through exactly what kind of pleasure your lesson could bring. You scurry around the glass left behind and sink down to all fours. Crawling over to him you sit at his feet, looking up at him through your lashes.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you whine, nuzzling the puppy-dog ears you’re wearing into his thigh. His gaze bores into you, making you squirm.

You quickly avert your gaze, unable to look at him anymore. You try your hardest not to lean in closer to him and hump on his leg to get you out of trouble. Knowing you could turn on the cuteness and be out of this in a flash. But you craved whatever attention he was going to give you. You needed his hands on you, to be surrounded by his touch and his scent.

His hand gently falls on your head, petting you softly. You immediately nuzzle into the embrace. His tail wags behind him, giving away some of just how much he’s enjoying this. The growing bulge in front of your face also gives him away. Your own bottom subconsciously shakes and you moan as the tail plug moves inside you.

“What made you do such a thing, pup?” He asks firmly. The disappointment laced in his tone has you cuddling closer against his leg. Seeking his comfort even now.

“Y-you haven’t been here very much. Only ever around when I’m bad. I-I didn’t know what else to do,” you admit, voice small.

His hand stills on your head and for a second so does your heart. You wait for his reaction with bated breath. After a second his fingers weave into your hair and he sharply tugs back your head. You cry out at the delicious sting on your scalp and instantly meet his eye. Your heart flutters at the softness in them.

“Have I not been giving my baby enough attention?” He coos at you a little condescendingly.

You whimper, giving him your best puppy dog eyes as you nod along to his question. A dark chuckle falls past his lips as lust sparks through his eyes.

“Aww, hunny. Well we’ll fix that right up, don’t worry.”

With a single snap of his fingers you stand up off the ground. He gives your bum a little slap and nods toward the bedroom. Your expression brightens and you hop over the mess of glass to head into the bedroom. Not worrying about it a bit. You know he’ll clean up and take care of you. It’s what he loves to do more than anything.

His laughter rings through the air, living to see his good girl so happy. He follows you into the bedroom but detours to the closet. He snatches up your special leash and attaches it to the wall above your headboard.

A series of whistles ring through the air and you immediately catch the signal. Hopping onto the bed you kneel on all fours. Staying perfectly still as your Puppy Hybrid bf connects the leash to the wall and to your very pretty collar.

He growls lowly in his throat, seeing you all posed and in position for him. He runs his hand up and down the plush curves of your naked body like you’re some kind of show dog, his cock aching in his pants and begging to ruin you.

“Gonna give my girl some extra special attention,” he rumbles lowly in a way that sends shivers up your spine.

You arch your back prettily for him as his hand moves down your back. His eyes flash with need and you relish in the reactions you can get for him. No matter how much control you appear to give him. He’s just as much putty in your hands.

In an instant he rolls onto the bed, kneeling right behind you. Grabbing hold of your wide hips he squeezes handfuls of flesh in his palms, moaning and grinding his clothed cock against your pussy. You mewl loudly, leaning back into him, desperate for more friction.

“Sh, sh, sh. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. I always take care of you, don’t I, sweetheart?” He practically purrs.

The clinking of a metal buckle has your body gushing with anticipation. You’re an absolute mess for him. The apex of your thighs dripping with your need.

“Let me make it up to you, baby. Again and again and again.”

Without any warning your Puppy Hybrid bf thrust into you in one solid stroke. Your wetness making him glide in with ease. He growls loudly, realizing just how much you’ve needed him. And he’s ready to give you it all.

Puppy Hybrid bf groans in pleasure as he pounds his cock deep inside your eager fat cunt. You match his nosies of pleasure, not bothering to hold back in just how good he feels. His length igniting your every nerve.

The double penetration of his cock and the plug have them both feeling even bigger. You can’t stop your eyes from rolling back into your head. The sensation sending you to unimaginable heights of pleasure you never fail to reach with him.

His hands grab at you like you’re the most precious thing on earth and your heart soars. You cry out, jerking back and meeting each of his thrusts. Desperate to have him inside of you as deeply as possible.

As you go to thrust back once more, you go too far, and the chain keeping you attached to the wall is quick to stop you. A small yelp leaves you but a moan quickly replaces it as your collar tightens. You clench around his cock and your bf chuckles darkly.

“Careful, sweet pup, wouldn’t want you getting hurt.”

His hands hold onto your plump hips tighter, using his hold to slam you back down on his cock. A fierce scream echos through the air but it’s quickly cut off as the collar grows tighter once more. You know what he’s doing and it turns you on to no end, your sopping pussy fluttering around his length.

With the collar slowly restricting your breathing and your holes being stuffed full to the brim you can’t contain the power of your orgasm. A strangled gasp tears forces its way past your lips as your orgasm rolls through you. Your vision flashes white and you go limp, letting your bf help work you through such ecstasy.

Puppy Hybrid bf buries himself inside you, all the way to the hilt before finally giving in and coming. Thick ropes of cum shoot deep inside your pussy and you weakly moan, trying to milk him for everything he can give you.

When he tries to pull out you immediately clench down, trying to keep him connected to you. Whimpers spill from your lips, your heart aching with need. Your bf shushes you softly, rubbing his hands along your curves and gently soothing you.

You can’t help but wince as he pulls out. But the brief ache is long forgotten the moment he gathers you up in his arms. Unlocking the leash and bringing you both down onto the bed. He molds your body to his, petting you and kissing you. Giving you all the affection you’ve been begging for in all your own ways.

“I’m not going anywhere, love. I won’t leave you again. I’m staying right here where I belong,” he whispers lovingly into your ear. Somehow managing to calm all your worries with just a few simple words.

And you know without a doubt he means all of them, trusting him to care for you in every single way.

[nightingale-prompts]

Godling-DCxDP prompt

Many don't understand what it's like to gaze into the abyss. To truly know the haunting moment it gazes back. Even fewer can see still stand to throw themselves into that abyss.

Tim never understood why cultists worship monstrosities, being that promised the end of everything for nothing in return. He had seen the remnants of human sacrifices, rituals gone wrong, and man-made horrors beyond human comprehension. Part of him regretted agreeing to partner with Constantine to solve these cases. But another wanted to know more.

After searching through another half-destroyed tome he found something. A location to a summoning circle, an ancient one that these cultists were searching for. The one they needed to finally successfully summon their god.

But they got there too late. The cult had finished their ritual and the "god" they had summoned stood before them.

That god was...perfect. Disgustingly perfect, dreadfully beautiful, and horrifyingly enchanting. His mind etched every detail in his memory. It felt like his mind had conjured this person from his dreams, day and night. It was like looking at an illusion. But his eyes were a hellishly bright Lazarus green.

The cultist bowed to him and his smile, his perfect unnaturally white smile was full of soft warmth. Tim understood at that moment why they worshipped him. Their minds couldn't escape this web of divine energy. They were so enraptured by finally seeing prove of the divine.

"You all have done enough. Your souls will come with me. To the abyss." He said calmly as he waved his hand and each cultist dissappeared.

He sighed softly as he turned his gave to Tim and John.

"You offed 'em? I thought they were your followers." Constantine said gruffly.

"I have no followers. These souls have caused so much damage to this world. They can't be allowed to stay here."

"So you decided to rapture them?" Constantine raised an eyebrow.

"It's complicated. Yes, they did horrible things but if they hadn't discovered the tomes of the old king they wouldn't have ended up this way. Have pity on them. They are just mortals scared and confused searching for meaning. Like I was. I have sent them to the abyss. Their souls with dissipate into the void. There will be no pain. No eternal punishment. Just an end. They will be at peace, I promise. It is what they want." The god's voice echoed, his features rippled as he moved showing afterimages of alternate forms he used.

It was odd. Every fiber of Tim's being screamed for him to bow, to worship, and to give himself to this being. Yet, his feet remained stubbornly planted on the ancient dusty floor.

"Don't look directly at it," Constantine whispered hissed.

Right. You probably shouldn't stare at the otherworldy being that likely has mind warping abilities. Especially one that just said he erased his own followers from existence and saying it was a good thing.

"I'm really sorry. I should make it up to you. Clockwork will be pissed enough that I interfereed so I have to do something to at least make up for this mess."

"You can kick off by doing one and buggering off" Constantine said immediately.

"So cold. How about you? What do you want?"

"I think an explanation would help," Tim said only to get elbowed by Constantine.

"You ain't gotta know nothing, mate. The more we know, the dodgier it gets." Constantine said firmly. "Whatever you are, you need to bugger off. You’ll wreck the noggins of everyone around you."

"I don't mean to. I don't ask people to become obsessed with me or worship me. Mortals have such weak minds they cave at my presence. But I can't help it. I lost my human body recently and can't turn this off."

The being groaned but to human ears it was similar to a purr.

"Seriously, everything I do is filtered through some sensory thing that makes you little mortals think its the greatest thing ever no matter how simple. Touching you would probably melt your brain with how good it would feel. So the trench coat man is probably right."

"You said you lost your human body. How?" Tim asked still staring at the floor as he felt the godling came closer.

"A bad fight. My mortal form wasn't indestructible but saving my family made it more than worth it. But...I haven't seen them since. Im still getting used to this while thing. I just wanted to reach out and find some answers so i reached into this universe and well...you can probably tell what happened next. I just wanted to make it right and fix it. The other ancients said this was the best option and..."

Every moment he spoke the less godly he seemed.

Constantine still wasn't willing to help and had to drag Tim away. When Tim actually tried to look up the fodling was gone.

"Never do that again." The brit said sternly. "Now help me clean this mess up."

[loveliluc]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ golden hour ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐

— ft. zhongli

synopsis — there is truly nothing better than waking up to the warm feeling of the morning sun and your lover between your thighs; 1.4k words.

— minors do not interact! some somnophilia there at the beginning but it’s quick. oral. fingering. unprotected sex. soft morning sex. overstim. there’s some size kink sprinkled in there. mentions of previous rounds. fem!reader.

you’re not quite sure what wakes you up first — the warm sun rays filtering in through your bedroom window or the firm press of a hot, wet tongue against your sex.

you’ve barely woken up. your mind is still hazy with sleep and your awareness of the world has just begun to dawn. you don’t register it at first, the way your thighs are split and splayed across the mattress or the way a broad body fills the empty space in between. you don’t even know how you found yourself on your back, but in your sleep riddled state you don’t question it. you do know you’re naked, which that’s easily explained by the activities of the night prior. your lack of a barrier allows for quick access to your cunt, and with your thighs spread, you’re on full display and ready for feasting.

zhongli laps at you with his lithe tongue, humming in delight over both your taste and the way you begin to squirm above him as you awaken. his eyes are set upon you and they do not waver; he adores the way your head lifts up when you look at him, your face still blanketed with a sleepy expression he finds all too precious to handle. he smiles against you and sucks your clit before offering a sweet, “good morning, my dearest.”

the sensation of his mouth on you coupled with the raspy texture lacing his deep voice makes you clench around nothing. he suckles at your bud again and your thighs are quick to close around his head, but they don’t get far with his grasp keeping them in place. “zhongli? what —”

he hushes you with another suctioned kiss over your clit. zhongli adores to hear you talk, to listen to whatever it is you want to say, but this morning he’s much more inclined to hear those sweet little breathy moans. “shhh, it’s quite alright. just relax and i shall make you feel good. lay back while i feast on you.” he’s a man of his word, because feasting on you is exactly what he does. you’re delectable, and he finds your pussy to be the most exquisite breakfast he could have. you just looked too sweet when he awoke this morning, too irresistible as you lied there with your hair a mess and his marks littering your skin from your time together during the night; he just had to have you.

pleasure takes over the sleepiness, and your nerves are set aflame with every flick and suck he offers. you’re definitely awake now, but you still feel hazy, feel like you’re floating as he urges you closer to your release. his motions are not rushed, he is in no hurry, but your sensitivity to him has you spiraling towards an orgasm in an alarming rate regardless. “zhongli.” you feel so good, and all you can offer him is a call of his name as you fall apart. you make a mess on his handsome face, and he’s eager to lap up all you have to give.

“you taste divine, dearest,” zhongli compliments, barely removing his mouth enough to speak. his mouth latches onto your pearl while one finger prods at your entrance. you gush when he pushes it in slightly, and the way you mewl has him smiling against you. “in all my years, i’ve never tasted anything as sweet as you.”

you keen when he pushes his digit through your folds. your walls are quick to wrap around it as it searches for that specific spot nestled within. he’s quick to find it, and you moan loudly when he crooks his finger to graze against it just the way you like. his tongue is still relentless against your clit and you’re going mad with the onslaught of pleasure. “oh, zhongli!”

he hums. another finger joins the first and you’re bowing off the mattress at the stretch. “and to think, i get to savor you forever more.” his fingers churn your insides and fill the room with the most lewd of squelches while his tongue flutters over your sensitive bud.

you can’t handle the pleasure nor the way his amber gaze remains set on you; he’s so overwhelming, almost too much for your poor self to bear. you wiggle as your skin flushes in a blush. you’re so close again and it’s so all consuming you fear you might explode. “zhongli, i — hah — i’m gonna cum again!”

“of course, dearest. go ahead and fall apart for me. let me taste you once more.”

and you’re so obedient to him. with his gentle command, you climax for a second time on his tongue, his fingers working themselves in and out to allow you to ride out every bit of your high. your body wiggles in his hold. you’re overstimulated, and yet your hole clenches and unclenches with a need to be filled again once he removes his fingers from you. you’re quick to reach for his hair when he kisses up your body.

“so beautiful,” zhongli coos just as his face hovers over yours. he presses a sweet kiss against your lips and you hum at the taste of you that lingers. he’s sitting up before you can really deepen the embrace, his large hands tracing the curves of your waist down to your hips. “you make it so hard to resist you when you look so breathtaking like this.”

he’s praising you just as he always does, yet you can’t help but feel as if you should be praising him. as he looks down upon you, the silhouette of him is bathed in the morning sun, the intricate golden designs down his arms glittering in the light. he’s glowing and he looks every bit like the divine being that he is, and you think that he looks the most stunning within this golden hour. “zhongli, i need you.”

zhongli chuckles at your neediness while his hands squeeze your hips affectionately. his smile makes your heart and your pussy flutter. “you have me, my dearest.” he doesn’t miss the way you gaze up at him, eyes alight with desire and adoration. many have looked upon him with awe, with reverence, but none can compare to the way you look at him like he is the center of your entire world.

he’s fisting his erection and you watch with awe, swallowing thickly at the sight of his heavy, leaking girth. your thighs spread further apart when he presses his tip against your clit; you moan helplessly at the action, walls fluttering as you await for that delicious stretch you know is coming. “how do you always fit inside me?” it’s an offhand question, but you can’t help the way it slips out; you’re always so enraptured by the fact he always manages to settle himself so perfectly inside you despite how large he is. every time.

your lover huffs out a breathless laugh as he pushes against your slick opening. he can feel the way you flutter, your walls already so desperate to suck him in. your sweet, tiny little pussy, always the most perfect resting place for his cock. “because you are made for me.”

he pushes himself in and your head lolls against the pillows as you moan at the stretch; it’s so much, he is so much, but your sodden cunt welcomes him inch by incredible inch. he’s halfway in when you start to squirm, hands clambering until you find purchase at his wide shoulders. “s’much, s’good!”

zhongli bends over your form to nuzzle his nose against your cheek. this angle allows him to nestle the rest of himself inside your snug warmth and he sighs out at the way you hug him so perfectly. “precious girl,” he groans as he rolls his hips into yours. “my precious, darling girl.”

your arms interlock around his shoulders as you bring him closer. he’s got you pressed into the mattress as he begins to move in you, his hips gliding to and fro at such a slow pace that you can’t help but feel the graze of every single vein on his thick cock. you’re so warm, everything is warm from the heat between your bodies to the morning sun that fills the room. “i love you, zhongli. i,” you moan, “love you so much.”

he adores the melody of your voice, and the harmony of the wetness as he fills you repeatedly. his lips trail down your face, down your neck. “and i love you, my dearest.”

nat’s notes — was supposed to post this yesterday but i forgot :’)) anyways, enjoy this little bit of zhongli brain rot fic!!