#dick goes to bed without looking in the mirror

[frownyalfred]

Re: eldritch bludhaven

Gotham and Fortress AI are Bludhavens proud co-parents (potentially divorced). Like yes baby you did such a good job making Nightwings eyes as blue as his suit, no of course the fact that he has white lenses doesn't matter you did great

I’m fucking sobbing 🤣

[mahgyu]

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓 ──── 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Gojo’s aftercare is a chaotic mix of overwhelming affection and genuine tenderness. He’ll kiss every inch of your body like he’s blessing it, whispering filthy praise between laughter and teasing. He insists on carrying you to the shower—even if you can walk—and stays glued to your side afterward, feeding you snacks in bed and stroking your hair like he just saved your life with his dick. And honestly? He kind of did.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

Gojo’s obsessed with your thighs. He grabs, squeezes, bites—treats them like his personal stress relief. He loves burying his face between them, overstimulating you until your legs tremble. On himself, he’s cocky about his hands. He knows exactly how to use them—whether it’s choking you lightly, holding you down, or fingering you with obscene precision.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He cums a lot. Like, a lot. It’s thick, hot, and he loves making a mess with it. Seeing you dripping with his cum, struggling to catch your breath, is the highest form of satisfaction for him. He’ll paint your stomach, your boobs, your back—or fill you up and make you stay like that. He gets off hard on the idea of you walking around with him still inside you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s definitely jerked off to your voice memos or texts when you’re away—sometimes in risky places, like the Jujutsu High rooftop or a meeting room. He also has a video of you sucking him off, saved in a hidden folder on his phone. He watches it way more often than he admits.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Oh, he knows what he’s doing. Gojo has confidence for a reason—he’s had his share of partners, but no one’s ever driven him crazy like you. He reads your body like a damn book, adapts on the fly, and always, always makes you come first. He’s a god in bed, and he knows it.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He’s a sucker for doggy style, watching your ass bounce as he pounds into you makes him feral. But he also loves reverse cowgirl, just to lean back and enjoy the view while his hands roam all over your body.

G=Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s playful as hell. Sex with Gojo always has moments of teasing, smug grins, and cocky comments. He’ll crack a joke mid-thrust just to make you roll your eyes—then fuck you hard enough to make you forget how to speak.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Despite his chaotic energy, Gojo is deeply affectionate. His kisses are desperate, his touches linger, and he holds you like you’re the only thing grounding him. He might joke around, but you feel how serious he is in the way he worships your body like a temple.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He jerks off often, especially if you're not around. He’ll use your panties, your pics, or even replay voice notes of you moaning. He doesn’t hide it—he gets off on being shameless. If you catch him, he’ll smirk and invite you to join in.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Gojo’s kinks are wild: he’s into teasing, power play, public risk, praise mixed with degradation, and especially overstimulation. He loves watching you cry from too much pleasure, telling you how good you look ruined on his cock.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Everywhere. Literally. A classroom late at night? Done. His office desk? Absolutely. The back of a car? Why not. But his favorite? Against the mirror, so he can see your face and whisper in your ear how wrecked you look.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your voice, your scent, the way you look at him with need—everything turns him on. But what really pushes him over the edge is your confidence when you take control. Climb on top, talk dirty, show him how much you want him—and you’ll see Gojo beg.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

He’s adventurous, but he draws the line at anything degrading or cruel in a way that feels disrespectful. He’ll call you names in bed, sure—but if you ever looked genuinely hurt or uncomfortable, he’d shut everything down immediately.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving? He adores it. He’ll eat you out for hours, smirking while you shake. Receiving? He’ll make a show of it—head thrown back, groaning loud, praising your mouth like you’re divine. He’s loud, filthy, and always holds your hair gently.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Gojo’s pace depends on the mood. He can be slow and sensual, drawing it out just to watch you beg, or fast and brutal, fucking you like he’s starved. Either way, he always keeps you on edge, never letting you fully know what’s coming next.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s obsessed with quickies. Before a mission, during breaks, even in hallways—he gets off on the adrenaline. He’s fast, rough, and cocky, whispering "this’ll hold you over" before disappearing again, leaving you trembling.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He lives for the thrill. Gojo will absolutely finger you under the table or pull you into a hidden hallway to fuck you. Public teasing? Constant. He wants to get caught, just to see you bite your lip trying to stay quiet.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Insane. He can go for hours, back to back. Three, four rounds minimum. He doesn’t stop until you’re crying from overstimulation, legs shaking, brain fogged—and even then, he’ll ask, “One more?”

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He owns a small collection—vibrators, plugs, even a remote-controlled toy he loves using on you in public. He’ll watch you squirm, completely innocent on the outside, while you beg for mercy in his ear.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s the king of teasing. Gojo will edge you until you’re sobbing, fingers deep but refusing to let you cum until you beg properly. He whispers the filthiest things, licks you until you're right there—then stops, smirking. Pure evil.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Loud. Moaning, groaning, breathy curses—Gojo lets it all out. He wants you to hear how good you’re making him feel. And he’ll talk through it, too: filthy praise, cocky comments, and shameless begging for more.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s into recording your sex tapes. Nothing fancy, just his phone propped up somewhere. He loves rewatching them when he’s alone, especially the ones where you’re on top, riding him like you own him.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Off the charts. Gojo is needy. He craves sex often, but it’s not just physical—he needs to feel you, to connect through touch, skin, heat. When he wants you, it consumes him. He’ll drop everything for you. Every time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’s clingy afterward. He won’t sleep unless you’re curled up on his chest or spooning you tightly. He hums soft little sounds, kisses your shoulder, and whispers dumb shit until he finally passes out with a stupid smile on his face.

Did someone ask for another one?! 🤭 Give me suggestions for who should be next. Here’s Nanami’s version

©mahgyu | I do not allow adaptations, translations, or copies of my work.

[ceramini]

more of loser jake omgg idkk i find it so cute😭😭

⁺𝅄 𓊆 ❀ 𓊇 ahh engene yearn for loser!jake (we’re engene) hehe here’s something I cooked up :3 it’s supposed to be cute might be a little TOO cute, but YOU ASKED FOR IT SO IM DELIVERING!!

pair loser!jake x hot!reader ͡ ͘◡ ꫶᳝᳜᳝᳜᳝᳜৯ tags fluff, fluff & fluff.. like nothing bad here ✿ scene It’s stupidly domestic, aggressively soft, and just a little feral. You bully him, he worships you, and somewhere between waffles and way too many food metaphors, you start thinking maybe you’re kind of obsessed with him too. A morning where his love is loud ────── library ⊹ ࣪

like + reblog appreciated <3 click to join taglist

Jake wakes up mouth-first on your collarbone.

Which wouldn’t be a big deal, you’re warm and smell good and your arm is draped around his waist in a way that makes his dumb little heart squeeze, except…

“Don’t,” you mumble without opening your eyes. “You haven’t brushed.”

He freezes.

You crack one eye open and glare.

“No morning kisses,” you warn. “We’ve talked about this.”

Jake whines and buries his face in your shirt.

“I’ll be nice about everything else,” you murmur, “but I draw the line at morning breath.”

“I wasn’t gonna kiss you,” he mumbles into your collar. “I was just breathing your air. Like a lil parasite.”

You thump the top of his head. “Romantic.”

He grins.

Your nails scratch lightly through his hair, half-asleep. Jake goes completely limp. He’s never met a more perfect woman. Hot, mean, and still willing to give him head scratches like a golden retriever. He’s living the dream.

He nuzzles closer. “I like when you let me stay over.”

“You stayed over on accident,” you yawn. “You cried about a documentary and passed out on my lap.”

“Because the turtle made it back to the ocean. And the music was really emotional.”

You sigh. “And then you got hard and didn’t know what to do with it.”

He lifts his head, affronted. “That was private.”

“That was embarrassing.”

“You kissed me after that!”

“Yeah, and I regret it. You haven’t brushed.”

Jake groans dramatically. “It’s so cruel how hot you are and how much you hate germs. How’s a guy supposed to romance his gorgeous girlfriend when she refuses to be kissed awake?”

“By your decomposing tongue?”

“I was gonna do it tenderly.”

“You were gonna do it nastily.”

Jake sulks into your chest.

You stretch with a little hum and reach for your phone, lazily scrolling while he makes himself at home in the safety of your cleavage. You’re not wearing a bra. Jake’s entire sense of self is hanging by a thread.

“You smell so good,” he mumbles. “Is that your lotion? I think my dick got hard out of, like, scent memory.”

“You are genuinely disgusting.”

“You’re the one with tits out and legs warm and thighs all plush and soft like this.” He rubs his cheek against your side like a sleepy cat. “You’re asking for trouble.”

“You’re asking for gingivitis.”

Jake groans. “Just one kiss. I’ll aim for, like, the general cheek region.”

“You just admitted you’d miss.”

“Let me worship you.”

“You can worship me after toothpaste.”

You push him off and climb out of bed in your tiny shorts and tank top, and Jake genuinely feels like he’s watching a goddess float through a foggy dream sequence. Your ass jiggles once and he whimpers like a kicked dog.

“I’m brushing,” he calls out after you. “I swear. I’m gonna be so minty.”

“Better be,” you call back from the bathroom. “Or I’m cutting you off for a week.”

Jake trips over the blanket trying to get to your toothbrush cup.

He does a full 60-second swish with Listerine while making eye contact with himself in the mirror, like he’s psyching up for a championship game.

You’re tying your hair up when he comes up behind you, all dopey grin and freshly washed mouth.

“I’m ready for smooching,” he declares.

You give him a long, judgmental look. “Show me your tongue.”

He sticks it out obediently. You nod.

Jake places a hand over his heart, solemn. “I’m pure.”

“Barely.”

But you kiss him anyway.

It’s sweet. A little goofy. A little slow. Jake makes a satisfied noise in the back of his throat, like he’s being fed for the first time in days.

You break away and he’s already chasing after your lips like he forgot how to breathe. You roll your eyes and tilt your head back as he kisses your jaw, your throat, your shoulder.

“God,” he breathes, “you’re so fucking hot. Like, evolutionary advantage hot. Like, statistically impossible hot. Like, if we were in a zombie movie, people would sacrifice themselves to save you.”

“You are so weird in the mornings.”

“You made me brush,” he says, lifting you up to sit on the sink. “Now you have to deal with the consequences.”

You let him stand between your legs, your fingers threading into his hair again, soft and slow.

Jake stares at you with big eyes, overwhelmed.

“You’re so pretty like this,” he whispers. “All sleepy and soft. I wish I could take a picture.”

“Your camera roll is already 90% me.”

“Not enough.”

You kiss his forehead. “Brush again after breakfast and you can put your head between my legs.”

He salutes. “It’s an honor to serve.”

You make waffles.

Jake watches you do it like it’s a TED Talk. He’s sitting backwards in a chair, shirtless, chin propped on his arms, just staring.

You’re pouring the batter into the waffle iron when he says:

“You’d taste so good with syrup.”

You pause.

“You mean these waffles,” you say slowly.

Jake blinks. “Huh? Yeah.”

You raise an eyebrow.

He blinks again. Then turns red.

“I didn’t—I meant the food,” he says quickly, backpedaling so hard the chair squeaks. “Like, if you were, uh, eating it? Not if I was—like—eating you, you know? Like if I was just. Consuming your—”

“Stop.”

Jake’s face is in his hands.

“Do you hear yourself?” you ask.

“No! That’s the problem!”

You sigh.

He groans. “I swear I wasn’t trying to be nasty.”

“You never are,” you mutter, flipping the waffle.

“That sounds like slander.”

“You’re too stupid to be nasty on purpose.”

He brightens. “Thanks, baby.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

But Jake is already up and wrapping his arms around your waist, all warm and clingy and way too comfortable resting his cheek on your shoulder like it belongs there.

He smells like mint and laundry detergent. You should not be soft for this man. And yet.

You serve the waffles on a plate, hand him one, and watch him absolutely inhale it. He’s shirtless in your kitchen, hair messy, syrup on his knuckle.

He licks it off with a little hum and goes, “Wanna know something?”

“No.”

“You’d be so good with powdered sugar. Like those soft little peaches. You’re kind of like a peach. Sweet and round and juicy and—”

“Jake.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re doing it again.”

He stares at you mid-bite. Mouth full. Eyes wide. Confused.

“I literally don’t know what I said wrong,” he mumbles.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You cannot keep comparing me to edible things with adjectives like wet and ripe and juicy and soft.”

“But that’s how you are.”

You glare.

Jake tries again. “You’re like a really beautiful fruit that I wanna keep in a glass box so nobody else can touch it—”

“Still sounds like you want to eat me.”

“Okay, yes, but not in, like, the nasty way—”

You shove a piece of waffle into his mouth.

Jake chews happily.

You sit across from him and eat in peace for approximately thirty-eight seconds before he tries again.

“You know when you cut open a honeycomb and it drips all golden and perfect and sticky—”

“Oh my god.”

“—and you just know it’s gonna taste sweet and natural and good for your soul—”

“Jake, enough.”

He giggles and leans over to kiss your cheek. “Sorry. I just love you so much. It leaks out.”

“You’re leaking unfiltered brainrot.”

Jake looks deeply pleased. “You called it brainrot. You’ve been spending too much time with me.”

You snort. “Tragically.”

He beams.

You lean your head in your hand, watching him. Syrup on his chin. Waffle crumbs near his collarbone. Hair falling into his eyes. A little sun-dazed and stupid-looking.

You sigh.

“You’re like a dog who learned to speak just enough to say weird things.”

Jake gasps. “You think I’m magical.”

You rub your temple. “I think you’re mentally unwell.”

He just grins wider.

You finish eating while Jake tells you about a dream he had where you two lived in a cabin and he made jam. You don’t ask why he was making jam, or what that has to do with anything, but he gets real serious when he says:

“And in the dream you came in wearing one of those oversized knit sweaters, and I just knew I was gonna marry you.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Because of a sweater?”

“No,” he says dreamily. “Because you licked jam off your thumb and it was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You throw a napkin at him.

Jake giggles and catches it midair. “Seriously, though. I think I’d die for you.”

“You’d die from salmonella if I let you cook unsupervised.”

“Let’s live in a tiny house and you can hold me hostage with your sexiness.”

“That’s called marriage.”

“Perfect.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart is glowing.

Jake grabs the dishes before you can move, rinses them badly, and then turns to lean against the sink and say, very earnestly:

“I love mornings with you. Even if you bully me. Even if you ban my kisses. Even if I’m, like, two dumb thoughts away from getting sprayed with a water bottle.”

You squint at him. “Are you gonna say something gross again?”

“No.”

You stare.

He fidgets.

Then: “You’re like the cinnamon glaze on my cinnamon roll heart—”

“Jake.”

“Wait! Wait! That one was cute—”

“TOOTHBRUSH. NOW.”

He stumbles laughing all the way to the bathroom.

And you follow, shaking your head, heart full, already thinking of ways to kiss him speechless later.

🪷 ─── @gxwesn @gyarumindd @somuchdard @ssanhwatto (join the taglist guys..)

[eleu22]

What Task Force 141’s Houses Would Look Like

John Price

- he lives in a cabin I cannot be convinced otherwise.

- very rustic, defo goes fishing or hunting for fun in his spare time

- likes to be away from the city

- its maximalist in kind of an organised chaos way he can find whatever he need’s immediately but to anyone else it looks kind of insane

- he’d be cleaner if he lived with someone - but yaknow #singledad

- very homey, warm vibes

- if the apocalypse ever hit you’d wanna be here, it’s decked out, secluded, he’s a bit of a doomsday prepper

- has once pissed outside to ‘mark his territory’ but you couldn’t torture that information out of him

- defo has that one room that is mysteriously locked and refuses to elaborate on when asked about it (Gaz secretly thinks it’s really cool) (it probably just has his fishing gear)

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

- very chic, cool tones

- screams “I did economy as an A-Level but I use pinterest”

- probably has had some type of dinner party with the 141 just to subtly flex to them that “in another life I was an interior designer”

- also defo cooks something with wine just, again to subtly flex his culture capital (he just wants some approval guys bless him)

- plant father - cannot be convinced otherwise

- very organised, keeps it pretty clean unless he’s feeling lazy which isn’t very often

- definitely has a record player - do not mention it or he will go on about how it “just sounds better” (with Price in the background nodding in agreement - but in an old man way)

- somewhere has a box of stuff that doesn’t fit his aesthetic but it’s shit he needs to keep anyways

John “Soap Mactavish

- messy as fuck, no rhyme or reason to it he just puts stuff down, forgets its there and thats just where it lives now COUGH man-child COUGH

- puts some of his drawings up on his walls

- defo has a comic book collection and some action figures

- bunch of childhood shit he refuses to throw away - criminal hoarder

- he likes the messy kind of boyish charm it has, every time his mom comes over she scolds him for it

- a bunch of stuff he’s collected from different places he’s gone, he’ll usually grab some stuff while on deployment if he has any free time, like snow globes or whatever

- went to Greece once and got one of those wooden dicks and finds it so funny, he says it’s the living room’s ‘conversation piece’

- he’s pretty clean when on base aswell, it’s just without the millitary’s structure or someone literally forcing him to clean up he doesn’t really care - it’s his house anyways

Simon “Ghost” Riley

- um

- yikes

- yeah you can tell he doesn’t really like spending time at home on leave

- the singular chair infront of the tv is so sad

- king of minimalism - if that’s what you wanna call it ig

- doesn’t bother decorating or getting anything past the bare essentials because what’s the point?

- doesn’t care it’s a shithole, he can afford a better house, but it kind of reminds him of home back in Manchester (crying)

- definitely chain smokes in his bathroom

- he’s got a treadmill there somewhere

- has a box full of his family’s belongings under his bed (crying again)

- no mirrors, only a small one in the bathroom to shave

- only item of decoration is a snow globe Soap gave him once, it sits next to his bed

[glamourscat]

It was 3am and you were supposed to be asleep, but after dating TIM DRAKE for almost two years now, you picked up on his weird sleeping patterns. Tonight in particular your brain won’t rest. Not until you will receive his usual post patrol message.

2am, then 2:30, 3 and 3:30am rolls around and your lack of sleep was slowly turning into anxiety. Why hadn’t he texted yet? Did something happened? You try to make sense of the situation, but your brain is refusing from making you think logically. And just as you were about to message him, his message comes through.

“sorry for the late message. had to run in the shower immediately after i arrived home cause i was covered in blood” he texts 

“not mine btw” he follows up, knowing already to clarify. 

“good, good. im glad you’re ok love, i was beginning to worry. what are you doing now then?” you text back, eyes fluttering at the screen waiting for those three dots to appear. But they don’t. In their place a picture appears. 

Him. In front of the mirror. His face covered by his phone, one arm on the sink leaning a bit to flex his muscles and that towel dangerously low, enough to see his v-line and the outline of his hardness against it. Oh….

“damn, drop the towel? 🙂‍↕️🙏🏻”  “for scientific purposes obviously…” you add in two consecutive texts. 

You know it’s unlikely he would do it, but teasing him comes naturally to y— he did it. You cannot even continue your train of thoughts because suddenly his next picture comes through. The towel gone, his pretty cock— and that damn blushy pink tip— staring right back at ya, hard against his stomach. 

You can’t even begin to form a coherent thought  as another picture comes through. 

This time he is on his bed, on his knees— which are open to show the view between his legs— His hungry, leaking, cock is begging to be touched; while his face now—no longer covered by the phone— looks at his phone through the mirror reflection with a knowingly devilish grin. And your mind goes to one thought, and one only, how desperately you wish to have a dick. Because he looks so damn breedable right now. 

“cause I don’t feel like I did it right the first time ;)” he texts back within seconds from sending that second picture. 

“hey…? you still there lol?” he texts back after 10,  long minutes without a reply from you. Did he overstep? Was it too much…?  But then the outdoor camera alerts him of a movement outside his front door. 

“im outside. open me up.”  ________________________________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

A/N: I wrote this at 5AM and had the sudden, horny, urge of writing for Tim. Nothing else to add lmao. Also this is not proofread :(

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[purple-obsidian]

appearances (18+, dick grayson x fem reader) wc 6.7k

⭓ this post contains sexual content and is not suitable for minors. special shoutout to @janybabyy for helping me edit this monstrosity. reader is a member of the titans, afab, uses she/her pronouns, and has an established friendship with dick.

Dick's arm is draped around your waist, holding your body close while his enchanting laughter rings in your ear, reacting to a story being told by the other couple sharing the elevator.

"I'm telling the truth! Swear on my life, he actually said that!" The man across from you says, grinning and chuckling. A soft ding grabs your attention, and you clear your throat, looking up at Dick with a soft smile.

"Well, this is our floor. We'll see you in the morning!" You promise, letting Dick pick up your suitcase for you and lead the way. You make your way down the hallway, reading the room numbers as you get closer to the one the receptionist scribbled on your key card. You feel exhausted, and after a long day of pretending to be a happy couple with your teammate, you're happy that it's finally time to rest. You retrieve the room key from your pocket when you finally reach your door, and open it wide for Dick so he can carry your bags in.

You flick the light switch on, taking in the cheap carpeting, generic artwork, and a single queen bed centered on the far wall. "Um... Dick?"

"Hm?" He turns to you, looking just as tired as you feel, no longer fronting as an excited newly-wed. "What is it?"

"Didn't you request a room with two beds?"

His bright blue eyes dart to the singular bed, shoulders slumping in defeat when he realizes there was a mix up in your reservation. "Shit. Lemme call the front desk."

"They're probably full," you comment, letting yourself fall into one of the chairs by the window, sinking down with a tired sigh and kicking off your heels, "Between the convention and the concert this weekend, I'll be shocked if they have any other rooms free."

Dick ignores you, setting down your luggage and walking over to the corded phone on the bedside table. He picks up the receiver, punches the button for guest services, and waits patiently for them to answer. You take a deep breath, relaxing and letting your mind wander as he speaks with the operator, who confirms that there are no more rooms available.

Dick hangs up the phone with a grumble, glancing behind him to look at you.

"Told you so." You chide, a playful grin on your lips.

"I'm sorry," Dick plops himself down on the side of the bed and groans. "There isn't even a pull-out couch."

"We'll be fine," You tell him dismissively, yawning and stretching your hands over your head, "It's only a few nights."

"I can sleep on the floor if you'd be more comfortable that way," He offers, rubbing his eyes.

"As long as you keep your hands to yourself, we'll be fine."

The first night you share a bed, Dick does keep his hands to himself. You're both so exhausted that you fall into a deep sleep almost immediately, making your proximity less awkward. You toss and turn here and there, but otherwise, the night goes on without issue.

The second night is another story.

After another long day of working undercover as newlyweds attending a couples conference, you and Dick are at each other's throats over a disagreement regarding the innocence of the man leading it. You both act your part all day. You kiss his cheek when others are looking. Dick makes an pointed effort to be handsy, ensuring he's touching you in some way whenever appropriate. But once you're in the privacy of the hotel room, the masks come down, and you are at each other's throats, arguing in hushed tones and bickering over what you observed today.

"Why the fuck did you invite me along on this mission if you didn't want my opinion?" You ask harshly, fumbling with the clasp of your necklace as you stand in front of the bathroom mirror, attempting to remove it so you can shower.

"I couldn't have come alone! It would have been suspicious, and Donna was busy, so you were my only option!"

"Gee, thanks Dick. That makes me feel real good about myself." You hiss, fumbling again with the tiny clasp, "Why couldn't you bring Wally?"

"You know our suspect is homophobic, if I showed up with a man as my partner there's no way I'd be able to get close enough to him!" Dick notices you struggling with your necklace. He sighs, and runs his fingers through his hair in frustration, "Need some help with that?"

"Fuck off," You mumble dismissively, giving up your efforts, "Screw it, I'll just leave it on."

You reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, throwing it angrily to the ground. Dick watches, eyes widening a little, unable to stop himself from checking you out and admiring the lacy bra you're wearing, his anger diffusing.

"You mind? I need to shower, give me some privacy," You snap, waving your hand at him dismissively.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good,” Dick growls, coming up behind you, sandwiching your body between him and the vanity, “Hold still.”

You huff, but relax and accept his help remove the chain. His hands are warm against your neck, quickly unclasping the lock and setting the necklace down next to you. You choose to ignore the way his eyes wander, admiring your reflection in the mirror.

“Thanks,” You grumble, your annoyance quickly subsiding, but you keep your eyes narrowed at him.

Maybe you are a bit stubborn.

“Yeah, yeah. Just hurry up, okay? I gotta shower too,” He reminds you before leaving the bathrrom, stealing one last glance at your half naked body and closing the door behind him.

Feeling bitter, you take your time with an extra long, extra hot shower, shaving your legs, exfoliating, deep conditioning your hair, not caring if you’re being petty. You linger, too, lotioning your whole body and applying your hair products, not missing a single step in your routine.

When you finally exit the steamy bathroom, Dick is sitting at the small desk in your room, doing something on his laptop. You walk out in your robe, smoothing your freshly washed hair and making your way over to your suitcase.

“Took you long enough,” Dick comments, giving you a pointed side-eye.

“Sorry,” You mumble, rummaging around for your sleep clothes, “All yours now.”

Waiting until he finishes up and locks himself in the bathroom, you quickly change and crawl into your side of the bed, cozying up to the pillow that smells faintly of bleach. You relax, listening to the muffled sound of running water coming from the bathroom. He's quick enough that you're still awake when he's done. Dick exits the bathroom, hair dripping wet, wearing nothing but his boxers.

"You used all the hot water."

You peek an eye open to glare at him, resenting his accusation, "It's a hotel, Dick. It's going to take a lot more than my twenty minute shower to make the whole building run out of hot water. Maybe you just don't know how to work the faucet."

You notice him shivering, and a pang of guilt eats away at you. But you stand by what you said.

"You took at least 30 minutes. And are you kidding me? You think I'm the type of guy that can't figure out a faucet?"

"Well, no, before this little trip of ours, I didn't think that. But seeing as you can't figure out our guy is guilty when the evidence is laid out in front of you like Thanksgiving dinner, my opinion on your intelligence might be changing."

He grinds his teeth, popping his jaw and clenching his fists at his side until his knuckles crack, "Shoulda brought Wally."

You lift your head so you can glare at him with both eyes, but Dick is already grabbing the comforter and sheet to yank them off the bed, leaving you shivering and exposed.

"Whatthefuck?!" You shriek, pulling your knees to your chest reflexively at the rush of cold air.

Dick jumps onto the bed, pulling the blankets over both of you, and with little effort he pulls your body against his, "I'm fucking freezing." He hisses through gritted teeth, "And I'm about to make it your problem.”

The chill radiating off of his stone-cold chest and body quickly seeps through the thin cotton of your t-shirt and sleep shorts. Flinching, you shiver and claw at the edge of the bed to pull yourself away from him. "Dick! G-Get off of me! This isn't f-funny!" You stammer in desperation.

"No, it isn't."

You long for the satisfaction of smacking the smirk off of him. You can't even see his face since your back is to him, but when you hear his taunting, you just know the cocky bastard is smiling. His strong, cold arms force your back to go flush with his chest again as he wrestles with you, utilizing his jiu-jitsu skills to pin you under him and prevent you from escaping his grasp.

"GET. OFF!!" You yell again.

Dick promptly slaps his right hand over your mouth, bringing his lips to your ear and shushing you. "Remember, we're in a hotel. People could hear you if you screamed. Last thing we need to do is blow our cover."

You groan and struggle to shake your head free of his hand, which is fruitless, but Dick takes pity on you and removes his hand after watching you struggle for a moment.

"This is assault, you know," You growl at him angrily, "You're h-holding me against my will."

"Oh please, I've done worse to you during training. You're fine. Just let me hold you for a minute until I can warm up. You owe me that much," Dick holds you closer to him, and he isn't lying, He really is as cold as an ice cube. Keeping you pinned against the bed, he holds you, fearful that you'll shy away and refuse to share your body heat. But you know when you're beat. The soft spot you have for him trumps your annoyance, and you accept your fate.

You really didn't mean to make him suffer, you just took a tad longer washing yourself than normal. Could it really be your fault that there was no hot water? You take these next few minutes of discomfort to ponder the specifics of hotel plumbing, doing anything to distract yourself from the chill.

Dick notices the subtle shift as you try to relax your body and regulate your breathing. There's something in the way you feel, your body going from tense and combative to calm and still under him, that makes his heartbeat stay elevated, even after he finally starts to warm up.

'She trusts me.' He thinks to himself, 'Or at least, she knows when to give up.'

Several minutes pass by, neither of you asleep, but not speaking. Only the sounds of your breathing are audible in the stillness of the hotel room. Dick starts to feel guilty, now that his body temperature is back to normal, and lifts himself off of you to lay on his back.

"I'm sorry," He says quietly, brows furrowed in thought, "I shouldn't have done that."

Now it's your turn to seek body heat. You let out an involuntary whimper, so soft that you're hoping Dick didn't hear it. "Wait," Your hand finds his chest in the dark, and you pull yourself up so your head is laying directly over his heart, "You might be all warmed up, but I'm still cold."

Your feet, which weren't touching him before, are particularly chilly, so you take this opportunity to press them against his bare leg. Dick tenses in response, but he doesn't push you off of him.

"I deserve this," He whispers in a tone of defeat.

"You're so dramatic," You whisper back.

"And you're more stubborn than the Bat."

"Ouch."

"Am I wrong?"

"I'm not answering that."

"Exactly," He says with a hint of pride.

"Just shut up and warm up, I'm tired," You try to sound firm, but despite your best efforts, your voice sounds sleepy and content.

"You know, maybe I should keep a hold of you all night, to stop you from tossing and turning."

"M'not that bad," You grumble, "You'll survive."

But you soon fall asleep on his chest. Your breathing gets slower and deeper, and you finally relax into a pleasant slumber. Dick isn't far behind you. He is scared to admit to himself how good it feels to have you in his arms. He chalks it up to the fact that he's been pretending to be your husband since you got here, denying anything deeper, and lets his mind shut down and rest, falling asleep to the soft sound of your breathing.

Several hours later, you wake with a start, eyes popping open as you suck in a deep breath. You were having a bizarre dream, but thankfully your less-than-graceful awakening hasn’t seemed to of bothered your teammate, who you realize has shifted in the night. He’s now spooning you, his arm around your waist and his face nuzzled against your neck.

A heat creeps into your cheeks as you hazily register the intimacy of the position you’re in. You carefully attempt to untangle yourself from him, but you quickly realize your arm is asleep, and you curse to yourself as the uncomfortable pins-and-needles sensation prickle your nerves.

You wiggle your arm, the blood flow slowly returning, not noticing how your movement is making your ass bump against the man behind you.

Dick’s eyes flutter open, awakened by the soft swaying of your body as you struggle to get your arm functioning like normal. He mutters your name groggily, and you curse yourself for waking him.

"Sorry, Dick. I'm warm now, you can let go of me," You say softly.

In his half-asleep state, Dick exhales an audible groan, moving his arm so he can stretch out. You think you're free, but he quickly replaces it back over your waist before he pulls you snug against his body. "Could we stay like this? Feels nice." His voice is hoarse and gravely from sleep, which triggers a dangerous shift in your thoughts. His strong arms feel good wrapped around you. He smells good. You're comfortable, now that your arm is awake, and you notice something poking at your lower back when he pulls you even closer to him.

The heat you felt in your cheeks travels down to pool in your belly, and you resist the urge to squeeze your thighs together to relieve the ache you feel.

'Stop it. This won't end well. He's hot, but he's your friend. Just your friend...'

You capture your lip between your bottom teeth and close your eyes, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, we can stay like this," You finally say, "But you need to tell your little friend to calm down."

"Hm?" Dick perks up at your comment, trying to make sense of what you said while his brain is still not fully awake.

"You're hard. It's distracting."

"Woah, hey. Who are you calling little? That's a low blow, you wouldn't even have any way of knowing that."

"I can feel you right now Dick. S'gross. We can cuddle if you want but I don't want your hard-on stabbing me while-"

"This feel little to you?" He interrupts, shifting you higher so he can grind his boner against your ass, with only his boxers and your silky sleep shorts separating you.

It doesn't. Now that he's doing it intentionally, you realize how much he's packing down there, which makes you stammer a little as you squirm against him, trying to quell the arousal building in your abdomen. "Jeez- okay, point taken. Now quit it," You chide, hoping you sound firm.

"Sure you want me to quit?" He's fully awake now. You can tell by the confidence in his tone when he taunts you, "Something tells me you're enjoying this. I've seen the way you've been looking at me."

His lips are merely an inch from your ear as he whispers to you, making your heart beat faster in your chest and your brain starts to panic. "Of course I've been looking at you differently. We're pretending to be a couple. We're undercover. It's called acting."

"Can I tell you a secret?" His hand starts to play with the hem of your shirt, rough hands barely brushing the small bit of exposed skin as the fabric bunches up on your waist.

"W-what?" You ask, briefly wondering if you're dreaming.

"Donna wasn't busy," He murmurs, running the tip of his nose up and down your neck slowly as he tries to entice you. "I wanted you here with me."

"That's a lie," You chide back without much thought. You know Dick and Donna are best friends, there's no way he would choose you over her for a mission like this, right?

Right?

He ignores your accusation like he didn't hear it. "You really want me to stop?" Dick presses his hand against your stomach, caressing your soft skin and nudging his nose against the shell of your ear, his breath fanning over your neck and making you shiver. "Tell me to fuck off and I'll let you have the bed to yourself."

"I... I mean...y-you don't need to, I don't want... don't sleep on the floor, please."

"Because you like this? Don't you?" His hand sneaks further up your torso, until his fingertips brush against the underside of your breast. "Don't tell me these past few days haven't felt right to you. I barely feel like I've had to act."

"Are you kidding? We've been bickering every moment we're alone!" You argue back. You're grateful for the dark, which hides how wide your eyes are from how he's touching you.

"Don't mean about the mission. I meant you and me. Having you on my arm. Calling you mine. The way you kiss me- I wish you'd kiss me like that when we're alone, instead of fighting," He admits, tentatively grinding his hips into your ass as he speaks. "You looked so pretty in that dress, earlier. That color looks amazing on you."

This is a lot for you to process. Sure, Dick is attractive. You'd be stupid to deny it. But he's your friend, has been for a while. You work together, and you've tried to not let your mind go down that path, not wanting to mess up the opportunity of a lifetime, to be a hero and work alongside him and the other Titans. But when he talks about how right these past couple days have felt, you have a hard time denying it. Yeah, you were acting, but it did come easy. His smile is heart-warming. His touch feels safe. And having him wait on you hand and foot has made you feel pretty special, even if you were under the impression that it was all performative.

Dick pauses his movements when you take a while to respond to him, second-guessing himself. He says your name softly, before asking, "Am I making you uncomfortable? Do you want me to stop?"

The answer is no.

So why is it so hard to say out loud?

Nervous, Dick shifts away from you and retracts his hand, guiding you onto your back so he can see you properly. The look of uncertainty on him is rare. The man's confidence is nearly impenetrable, but now he's got a sinking feeling in his stomach, worried that he just crossed a line that you didn't want him to cross.

"Dick..." You mutter, shifting around to help him so you're face-to-face. His features are barely visible, illuminated only by the soft red glow of the digital clock on the bedside table. But you don't need the light to see him. His face is permanently etched into your mind, handsome and chiseled, your brain filling in the gaps left by the darkness.

You're running out of time. You can make out his expression fall, sense the change in energy each moment you leave him hanging. Deciding to take the future implications out of the picture, like how it will affect your dynamic on the team, how awkward this might make things in the future- you ignore all of that, and ask yourself, 'Do I want to sleep with him? Right Now? In this moment?'

The vigilante's confidence returns when you finally lean in to capture his mouth in a kiss. You bump your nose against his, and he chuckles, relieved as his hand finds your cheek to guide your mouth to his again.

The feeling is surreal, kissing him. You feel like you knew him pretty well before this trip. You know how he likes his tea. You know his favorite places, and understand his subtle, snarky humor. You're even familiar with his scent, after many missions and even more training sessions, physical contact is not anything new between the two of you.

His taste is new. His lips are foreign, but gentle, skilled, like he knows exactly what he's doing when his kisses you, relishing in the feeling, slow and sensual as his tongue slides across your bottom lip, teasing you until your part your lips and allow him deeper. Dick pulls you on top of him, relaxing on his back, his hands holding you by the waist, itching to trail lower and grip your plush ass that's been teasing him all night.

The needy almost-moan that escapes his throat as he exhales is new, too. You've heard him express pain and discomfort, you know what sounds he makes when he's hurt, recognize his brash grunts while fighting, able to judge how badly he's hurt by the sounds he makes. But the noises he's making now aren't like those. They seem more raw, more intense, and he's doing a good job of making you swoon.

His taste, his noises, being the object of his desire, this is all new territory. The surreal feeling doesn't go away, even as his kisses get more intense and his hands start to wander. You're straddling him, forearms resting against his chest while you two make out. He laps at your mouth, tongue against yours, encouraged by every little sigh and broken whimper that you make.

You're grateful for the darkness. It helps quell your insecurities, and you push the doubts about your decision far away. With your hands against his bare chest, you're able to feel his heart beat, strong and even, solidifying the feeling of closeness between you.

"You're so soft," He whispers between greedy kisses. His fingertips caress the exposed skin of your lower back, becoming increasingly more annoyed by the clothing that's keeping your skin from him.

A brief feeling of guilt plagues your mind, knowing your skin is extra soft because of the long shower you took earlier, with the goal of annoying him. Who knew that taking the time to exfoliate and use lotion would end up doing the opposite, spurring him on, making your skin that much more enticing.

You sink your hips down, rubbing yourself against the tent in his boxers. "You're so hard." You say back to him. You meant to sound teasing, but his all-encompassing kisses have you breathless and panting.

Dick chuckles at you, also breathless, finally letting his hands grip the silky material of your sleep shorts, squeezing and massaging your ass. You push yourself up a bit to look down at him. The red numbers of the alarm clock cast an eerie glow over the side of his face, the other half dark in shadow. But you still detect the obvious lust in his gaze. He squeezes you, grabby hands slipping under your shorts to feel you better and force your clothed cunt to grind against his throbbing erection.

"You have no idea how hot you are," He blurts out, bucking his hips up to drive the point home. "You in that dress this morning, fuck, if you were mine for real... I wouldn't have let you leave this room before fucking you senseless in it."

His low, urgent tone, gravely and strained, sends a jolt of heat to your cunt, your arousal soaking through your underwear. Hearing him, Dick Grayson, NIghtwing, say such things about you? And you can tell he means it. He's a good liar, but you know him well enough by know to tell he's being sincere. You open your mouth, unsure what to say, but he's already rambling on, hands traveling from your ass back up to your waist, easing your shirt up and over your head, careful not to mess up your hair.

"The neckline is what did it, I think," he continues. His pupils dilate when he drinks you in, straining to see as much of you as possible. You're sitting up now, shuddering when his warm hands cup your breasts, handling them like you're made of glass. "I couldn't stop staring. I wasn't the only one, either."

"Dick-"

"I've been thinking about this ever since. All evening. Been going crazy." His thumbs brush over your nipples, which are already hard from the arousal you feel building inside. "Got me all worked up. Like a teenager with a crush."

You bring your hands to his, resting over them as he fondles your chest. The gentle squeeze you offer encourages him to keep going, moving your hips to rub against him, searching for some friction to satisfy your need.

"I doubt the dress did all that," You challenge.

"Yet here we are."

"You pleased with yourself?" You yelp as soon as the question leaves your mouth. Dick chose that moment to pinch your hardened buds between his thumb and pointer fingers, squeezing and toying with them, moving his hips against you when your grinding falters.

"Yeah, I am."

Dick removes his hands from your chest to pull you flush against him, grabbing your left leg to help flip you over so you're on your back, settling on his knees between your legs. This shift in control has your mind racing, still wondering if this is all just a dream. If it is, you aren't ready to wake up.

Dick's sitting straight up, smirking down at you, reaching for your ankle. He guides your leg up so your foot is next to his head, and places a slow, wet kiss against your ankle bone.

"Let's get these off of you." He takes your other leg, lifting it in the same manner, so he's able to remove your shorts. You raise your hips to help, allowing him to take your remaining clothes off and toss them to the other end of the bed. He kisses the same spot on your other ankle and rests your legs on either side of his head while his strong hands caress your calves. It almost feels like he's showing you a new martial arts technique, the way he moves and is so at ease manipulating your body. You're used to it, to humbling yourself around him and letting him share his skills, never too proud to learn from a friend and mentor. You swear you've actually been in a very similar position with him before, too, just with more clothing. And also, several spectators.

His warm, fervent kisses continue down towards your knee, slowly savoring every inch of skin he can reach, and adjusting his position once he cannot. Your chest rises and falls quickly in anticipation, nervous but excited to see this new side of him.

This isn't something you were expecting to happen this trip.

You stifle a needy moan when he reaches your inner thighs. Muscular body now flush against the bed, he licks at the sensitive skin there, just inches from your pussy that's dripping for him, aching for attention.

"H-Holy shit..." You curse, moving your hips to try and get his mouth closer to where you need him most. If him kissing your leg feels this sensuous, you're weak over the idea of having his mouth on your core.

Dick hums in satisfaction at how worked up you're getting. Peeling his lips away from the soft skin of your thigh, he purses his lips into a small 'o' to blow a breath over your slick, feverish skin.

You're mortified at the loud whine that departs your lips, shivering in both chill and embarrassment. Your legs tense, squeezing together reflexively around his head.

Dick mutters your name, cursing under his breath at your reaction. He carefully pries your legs apart again, holding them in place, kissing your inner thigh again.

"Huh. You liked that?"

"Please, Dick, you're teasing me."

You feel his lips curve into a smile against you, leaving your thigh and licking a slow, long stripe along your pussy, catching some of your slick on his tongue. Your breathing hitches, eyes closing again, moaning his name with your hands on either side of your head gripping the pillow.

The tip of his nose nudges against your clit before he kisses you there, the same way he was kissing your mouth a minute earlier. Slow at first, building up to using more tongue, testing different movements until he feels your legs quiver. The heat you felt before has grown to a roaring fire, your lower body sensitized from his attention and aching for more.

His tongue flicks over your sensitive nub over and over in a steady rhythm. It becomes harder and harder not to wiggle against him. He's still keeping you in place, but his grip isn't harsh, at least not until he finds just the right angle. Your hips jerk almost violently when he presses his skilled tongue harder against your core, your hands flying to his head to grip his hair. "Oh fuck... please... shit shit sh....." You tremble, words fading away to nothing while your teammate keeps eating your cunt like its his favorite dessert.

Muffled hums and moans are mingled with your sighs and gasps. His tongue dips down to lap languidly at your entrance. You feel painfully empty at this point, ignoring the bewilderment you feel deep down about how easily Dick has reduced you to a whining mess. Fingernails scratching his scalp, your inner muscles convulse and tense, nerves alive with every touch and heated kiss.

Dick is a curious guy. He always has been. It's what makes him such a good detective, and an even better hero. And right now? He's curious about you, making a mental note of what noises and gasps he can coax from you when he moves his tongue faster or slower. He experiments with quick, feather light licks to tease you, then uses more pressure, rubbing his tongue flat against your soft skin and moving in circles, noting your reactions to each technique. His saliva drips from his mouth to mix with your slick, which he greedily licks back up, no shame in his enthusiasm.

After several torturous minutes of him working you, he's got your legs quivering and your mind fuzzy, your pride long forgotten, unable to resist the urge to plead for more.

"Please?" You beg him, "I just want... fuck, please, Dick, I need it."

His hands grip you tight for a beat before he releases you. "I need you too, baby, fuck, feel how wet you are." You offer no resistance when his hand takes yours and places it between your legs. "Touch yourself, yeah... there you go... play with that pretty pussy for me, hm?" His deep voice vibrates in your head, sending a fresh rush of lust through your veins.

Pushing himself up, Dick reaches over you towards the bedside table to retrieve the goodie bag that the front desk was handing out for the couples retreat.

"Glad we can actually put this stuff to use," He mumbles, face better illuminated now that he's next to the alarm clock. He retrieves a condom and a single-use lube sample from the deep red gift bag, and you groan in embarrassment again.

"Shhh, hey, just keep touching yourself. It's fine, unless you brought other condoms?" He asks, already guessing your answer.

"Why would I bring condoms? I wasn't expecting this to happen," You reply, watching him rip the foil wrapper.

"Huh. Me either." He slips his boxers down his thighs, letting his cock spring free. You squint, trying to see the outline of his junk in the dark. He looks big. Big enough that when he slides the rubber over his shaft, it only makes it about 3/4th of the way down.

"It's kind of tight," He informs you, now opening up the lube sample and working the viscous liquid over himself. "But I'm pretty good about making big things fit in tight spaces."

The grin on your face is instant, cringing at his joke and shaking your head. "Would you shut up and fuck me, already?"

"Gods, yes."

His reply sounds pained, filled with longing, enough that you briefly question how long he's wanted this. You want to ask, but Dick is a man of his word, and before you can utter your question out loud, his hands are pressing your legs against your chest, knees over his shoulders, positioning you so he can slap his heavy cock against your clit.

Rubbing his tip against your wet folds of skin, you angle your hips a little better and guide him inside. Your slick heat swallows him up greedily, his cock bottoming out in one swift thrust.

You cry out at the sudden sting of him stretching your aching cunt. Hands gripping the sheets to ground yourself, your eyes water and your mouth hangs open, the feeling enough to wipe your mind clear of anything other than him and how he's making you feel.

He offers a brief kiss to your whimpering lips, "Shhhh, I know, babe, I know, feels good... fuck... feels too good.”

Nestling closer to you, Dick settles so he has access to your neck. His hips are still, giving your body time to adjust from the abrupt intrusion. His warm breath tickles your ear between the sweet love pecks he presses into your skin. “You know, if we really wanna sell ourselves as a couple, maybe I should give you some hickies, mark up that pretty neck of yours.”

The muscles in the back of your legs burn from the stretch. The position you’re in doesn’t accommodate deep breathing, so your voice is weak when you warn him, “Can we not talk about work right now?”

“Right. We’ll talk about it tomorrow, when you’re pissed at me again.” He latches his lips onto your neck, withdrawing himself from you halfway before easing back in, slower this time, pausing again once he's fully buried.

"H-h-how... mm...d-dude, you're huge," You gasp, feeling his tip kiss your cervix, pushing your body to its limit.

Dick tenses, his solid body going rigid. His next statement seem imbued with an undertone of challenge, "Don't call me dude while I'm inside of you."

"Sorry I- shiiiit...." you lose your words when he starts moving again, pumping into you slowly, rolling his hips into yours while he sucks on your neck, leaving your skin damp with his saliva. Finding them again takes a minute. "M'sorry I didn't c-come up with a list... I mean, why would I be prompted...to... write out the things that are... are off limits when we're fucking?"

The words are forgotten as soon as you say it. His memorizing pace has you feeling alive with warm tingles, concentrated most where your bodies meet. You clench down on his thick cock, more arousal dripping out around him. You can feel your body release more wetness again, doing its best to accept what's being given as his soft raven hair tickles your cheek.

"We can make that list together, babe." His promise is murmured against your throat, "Maybe during our one-on-one counseling session tomorrow with the alleged con artist himself."

"W-wh...huh? What, oh... mmmm.... fuck, Dick.... what list?" You flex your feet and curl your toes, babbling and whimpering at him. You can't move much with how he's pinning you, completely at his mercy. Even though you've never slept together before now, you have complete trust in him, having put your life in his hands more times than you can count. Nightwing has never failed you as a teammate. And Dick certainly has never failed you as a friend. So even now, as he ruts himself into you with purpose, pushing your body to its brink, leaving dark bruises over your neck, you know he doesn't plan to fail you as a lover. If only for one night.

The speculation on whether this heated exchange will be a one-time thing or the start of something more is a worry for later on, not for right now. Right now, this god-like man is fucking himself into you harder and deeper, being much less gentle than how he handled you earlier.

"Feels s'good, tight little pussy is squeezing me, bet you haven't been fucked this good before," He rasps, giving your tender neck a break and resting his forehead against yours while he flexes and undulates, putting his abs, back, entire body into it, hitting spots deep inside of you that you didn't think were even there.

Your cries of pleasure get louder as the minutes pass. Keeping his pace steady, Dick moves his hand over your mouth for the second time this evening to muffle your desperate please for release.. "Shhhh... remember what I said," He taunts, "We can't blow our cover. People come to retreats like this because their marriage is failing. No one here is having sex as good as this."

If you were more aware, you'd point out to him that he just went against his whole justification for giving you love marks. But he might as well be speaking an alien language. The deep timbre of his words do, however, send a chill down your spine, pushing you over the precipice, your orgasm crashing over you hard.

Your eyes water even more and blur your already limited vision. Convulsing under the weight of him, you gasp against his palm, tasting yourself, eyes wide in the glow of the dim red light.

"That's it.... shii-iii-iit..." His body stills, and he closes his eyes, struggling desperately to stay off his own orgasm. You welcome the break, pleasure still pulsing in your core, flexing and wiggling your legs to alleviate the stiffness from the prolonged time in such an intense position you aren't used to.

Dick moans your name and shudders, "I need more."

"M-more?" You stutter, intoxicated from the post-orgasm haze.

Pushing himself up and off of you, he sits back on his knees again, cock slipping from your swollen cunt. Dick graciously lowers your legs, guiding them around his waist before leaning over you again, carefully slipping his arms under yours against your back to cradle you closer to him. You cling to him with trembling limbs, letting him move you how he sees fit.

"What, you think I was going to stop at one?" He whispers to you, low and eager. He slips his length back inside of you, the lewd squelching noise sounding absolutely filthy, your thighs damp from his sweat and your fluids. "I'm not wasting this opportunity to show you a good time.'"

Your pussy is so sensitive now, every thrust of his hips earning a small pant from you, feeling him fill you up, over and over, making room for himself inside your body with each tantalizing rut of his hips.

You mumble something incoherent, and Dick chuckles, proud to have you in such a state. "What's that, babe? I'm the best you've ever had?" He kisses your forehead, fucking you a little faster, his heavy balls smacking against your ass with each rut.

"This is... just to keep up appearances, right?" You ask, unsure if you want him to agree or not.

Probably not.

Definitely not.

"Of course." Dick promises, knowing full well that he will not be satisfied until he has you creaming around his cock like this every night. Not now. Not after tonight. Being here with you has opened his eyes, and helped him reflect on why he got so intensely jealous when you were turning heads earlier. "It's all for appearances, babe."

if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment!

please don’t steal my work. don't upload it to another site, use it to train ai, or claim it as your own.

⭓ masterlist ⭓

[buckyalpine]

I need a feral and unhinged, touch starved Bucky to ruin me.

He’s selfish in giving and taking.

He's gone years without touching his cock, no orgasm, no relief, nothing. Any experience he has had has been long forgotten. The man loves getting his cock sucked. There’s something so filthy about the way he goes feral for it, torn between throwing his head back in pleasure and watching his cock disappear into your mouth.

He used to be such a gentleman but he can’t anymore.

He's a fucking menace because he loves how dirty it is, having his dick in your mouth of all places, letting you slobber and drool all over his length, getting his balls wet in the process.

He doesn't give a fuck who hears either, letting anyone and everyone know his cock is in your mouth, that he's getting the best head of his life.

"Fuck, suck me princess, just-yeah just like that, sucking my cock so good babydoll, makin' me so hard"

You let out a muffled whine in response, still on your knees, tears streaking down your face while he holds your face, his thumbs swiping your wet cheeks. He bites his lip while thrusting his hips forward, pushing his length down your throat. You claw at his thighs, gagging and he lets out a delicious moan seeing your arousal starting to drip with how turned on you are.

"You're makin' me feel so good sugar, you know that? Y'have any idea how good my dick feels right now, how much cum there is in my balls?" He takes a a hand off his thigh and makes you cup his heavy sack, guiding you to squeeze him while you suck, the combined feeling making his eyes roll back.

"C'mon princess, suck my balls next, never had them sucked before-oh fuck-yeah-just like that baby shit-oh fuck feels so good-" His abs tense as he moans loudly again, jerking himself while you move to lap and suck at his sack, precum dribbling down, making a mess everywhere.

He might as well be addicted to the feeling. On more than one occasion, he's missed morning training because you decided to wake him up with head and he loses himself to you, not giving a shit who is waiting for him at the door.

He hears the knocks, hears them calling for him and he'll let them know what's keeping him so busy.

"Buck, you coming-?"

"Oh Fuck yes! Suck my cock, yes, yes, yes, gonna cum, drink it up baby, c'mon, swallow, fuck yes, m'gonna cum again-don't stop princess"

"Well...technically he's coming" Sam snorted, hearing every filthy word the super soldier spewed out while Steve bit back a smirk, "I think your best friend is busy"

Steve couldn't help the proud smile that made it's way onto his face, shaking his head, quickly walking away before round two started.

Tony occasionally goes as far as cheering outside of Bucky's bedroom, especially when the steady thump of the headboard banging against the wall can be heard from downstairs.

No point hiding anything from Tony, especially when he's the one who had to install the xl mirror in the bedroom Bucky requested and god knows he didn't ask for it because he's into fashion.

He's gonna put you in positions that are unholy as it gets. He wants to watch every detail. He's gonna throw your legs all the way back till your knees hit the bed. He wants to watch his cock stretch you open. He's gonna experimentally flick that little button between your legs, using it as his own personal play toy, rubbing and pinching it to his delight just to hear you squeal.

“That’s-that’s your spot, huh princess-take my fat cock baby, doin' so good, moaning for me" He growls, watching he way you take his cock. His favorite thing to do is lock eyes with you in the mirror while your on your hands and knees watching you watch him while he fucks your brains out. Your breasts bounce with each thrust and he doesn't know what he loves to watch more. God forbid your eyes roll back, he spanks you till you focus again.

"Look at me when you take my cock baby, look at how pretty you are when you're all stretched open"

"Sargent-I-fuck-can't-

"Yeah, can't even speak huh, that how good your pussy feels baby? You wanna cum? Want me to make you cum?"

"Please!" You wail and he grabs your hair and pulls you till your back is flush against his chest. He forces your thighs apart as wide as they'll go before grabbing his phone and positioning it under, getting a perfect video of his cock pumping you full of cum while his fingers reach around to rub your swollen button.

"Go on and cum baby, cum with me, together, make your Sargent proud princess, make me dick feel good, fuck, gonna fill you till it spills out, mother fucker-FUCKK" He moans loudly with you, letting your convulsing pussy milk him dry, his veins throbbing as he shoots ropes of cum into you. The end of the video is blurry after all his cum drips onto the screen but it makes it so much filthier.

He's going to record all of this along with taking pictures, always getting you to spread your legs for him, laying on his bed after he's poured load after load into you. I want him to be the dirtiest fuck, looking at all the pictures and videos he's taken, jerking himself off afterwards when you're away for a mission. He can't have you but he's gonna take what he can get. He loves how you moan and scream, how cock drunk you get. A part of him almost feels like a pervert, tugging at his dick like a horny teenager but he can't keep his hands off when he thinks of you.

He's fucking feral even when he jerks off. Legs spread wide apart, no clothes on, back arched off the bed, fucking his hips up into his fist. He doesn't care if you walk in anymore. He was shy at first but now he just smirks while continuing to lazily touch himself, using his own spend to palm himself, the other arm propped behind his head. He knows you love the sight, planting his feet onto the bed to give you a better view while you take your clothes off-

Anyway, my bad, this was sitting in the drafts for long enough, you can go about your day now.

[retroaria]

♱ sinner! ♱

⛧ college!au michael kaiser x fem!reader

summary: kaiser finds himself swallowed up by guilt as he struggles to maintain composure around his oh so sweet girlfriend, a task which would be simple if his mind wasn't in the gutter...

cw: MDNI nsfw 18+ content, virgin/celibate!reader implied, virgin!kaiser as well, this is pretty nasty i won't lie, religious referencing and dialogue, yearning, wet dreams, masturbation, edging, groping, no p-in-v sorry y'all, proofreading goes against my religion.

⛧blue lock m.list x as always, reblogs are appreciated!

"Lord, please guide me once again into your light, for I have allowed myself to be led astray. I woke up this morning in a pool of my own filth, I have let the forces of darkness take over my will in the night..." 

A pool of filth is exactly what it was. His body shivered as the morning blue began to creep in through the windows, reminding him that he was no longer alone with the dull light of his phone beside him, your face smiling on the screen. A photo of you in a pretty white dress, a dress that kept you modest, yet cute. The hem fell just above your knees, teasing the skin of your supple thighs, the sleeves hugging your arms, showing only a sliver of your shoulders. You looked adorable, a kind and innocent young woman, adorned as such.

Tonight, it only took that one photo. It kept him wired until morning, until he could barely move without a spike of sensitivity running through his lower half. Michael slowly sat up on his bed, looking down at the mess before him in disgust. His face twisted and his stomach churned. His mouth slightly open as he groaned, forcing himself up and off the bed. His cock hung between his thighs, soft and wet, his tip still slightly leaking. His eyes darted over to the clock on his nightstand, it read "6:52 A.M.", and he had two hours before you were to arrive. he needed to clean up this mess, clean up his dick, recenter his mind, and hot iron his church clothes before you got here.

It's been awhile since Michael made a mess like this, for a moment, he found himself feeling pleased, satisfied with the pleasure he brought to himself. As he stripped the sheets from his mattress he let the memory of each release playback in his mind.

The first one, where he focused his gaze to the dresses ruffles that laid across your chest, cupping your breasts in a way that feigned between the line of sultry and slutty. He let his fingers only graze up his length, imagining the feeling of the fabric on his skin, the feeling of your skin on his skin. His cock fitting perfectly between the gap of your tits squeezed together around him. He grabbed his cock in a gentle hold, stroking lightly as looked up at your smiling face on the screen, thinking of how your eyes would glaze over as you watched him fall apart above you. Your hands pushing your tits together to milk him for all he's got. He closed his eyes when he came, so he didn't have to see it spurting out all over his comforter, envisioning the hot ropes of cum dripping down your smiling face instead. He repeated this three more times, until the tip of his cock was red and swollen, leaking out on its own.

The sheets made it to the washing machine and Michael made it to the bathroom. His hands gripped the edges of the sink as he wearily scanned his reflection in the mirror. He looked at his face as if it were unrecognizable, quickly falling down to his knees and clasping his hands in front of him.

"...Allow me to face this new day a better man than I was yesterday. It is the knowing of your love and compassion that brings me to my knees to confess…”

Fresh, clean, composed, and just in the knick of time. Michael opened the door to your shining face, smiling at him. He let his hands gently grip your waist as he leaned down to place a chaste kiss to your cheek. He let his arms snake around you gently as he pulled you flush against him. He breathed in the scent of your hair and firmed his grip to feel the outline of your skin beneath your dress. He held you there a few strung moments, just long enough for your warmth to beginning trickling over him.

When he pulled back his eyes roamed your body. They widened as they took in your figure, your body draped elegantly in that god for forsaken white dress. He felt his mind begin to wander, but you looked at him expectantly and he did his best to remain calm.

“Good morning, Liebe…”

“Good morning, Micha!” by the time you words made their way around his spinning mind they sounded almost taunting, yet you gazed up at him with a sickeningly sweet smile, unbeknownst to his inner turmoil. His eyes searched your face for a few moments before wandering south.

“Michael…?” your tender voice pushing aside the silk white distraction tickling his brain.

His eyes flew up to meet yours, his body stiffened. “S-sorry, are you ready to go?”

“Yup, let’s go!” so sweet, so innocently eager - you grabbed his hand in yours and pulled him from the doorway. He trailed behind you, eyes glued to the subtle sway of your hips, the fabric of the dress flowing in the gentle breeze, revealing parts of your thighs that lived further up. He imagined his hand gliding against the skin of your thigh, slowly pushing the fabric up until it revealed to him what laid between your legs. Then he imagined tugging at the dress with his teeth, tearing it off you like a wild animal. His mouth so close to your skin, he wondered what you tasted like.

Before he could conjure up a full fantasy, the two of you had reached his car. He quickly jogged to the passenger side, opening the door for you with a charming smile. He took note of how quickly the car filled up with the scent of your perfume. At every red light he’d take a moment to glance over at you as you rambled on about your week, laser focusing on the parting of your lips - the subtle strings of lip gloss and saliva connecting them almost sent him into a frenzy. He thanked the lord the guy behind him had honked just in time so he could focus back on driving.

Pulling into the parking lot - he parked the car and got out of his seat, swinging around the back to open the door for you. Michael uses his unprecedented chivalry to remind himself you’re a respectable woman, one whom he loves deeply. He’d hate to admit that he’s hoping it’ll get him brownie points. Maybe one day you’ll appear before him in his room; “I don’t want to wait anymore Micha~ I want you now.”. You’d tell him he deserves it, he’s proven his worth - every opened door and every doting action inching his face closer and closer to the flowered heaven between your legs.

He reached out his hand for you to grab as you swing said legs out of the car and stand before him. Is he truly so depraved that the way your knees flex and the muscles of your thighs and calves clench in this subtle motion makes his cock twitch? Absolutely. He guides you, your hand in his, as you step out of the car. The door shuts behind you and you both make your way towards the entrance.

Michael never was a church goer before meeting you. He’d gone on the occasion holiday with his family growing up, slugging through the long hours and asking god for much simpler things than he does now. You’ve been a loyal member of this specific church for a long time, your family as well. You handed out your greetings as you crossed paths with familiar faces on the way to the entrance. Michael had only become your Sunday morning plus one within the last few months, so he always opted for a smile and an awkward wave.

The two of you made your way inside, sitting in the pews. You mingled with the people around you for a bit before the pastor took to the chancel and began the mass. The both of you shifted your attention to the front of the church. Michael let his body rest a bit, slugging slightly in his seat and let his weight fall to your side a bit. You leaned into his as well, crossing your legs and placing your hand on his left thigh. Michael noted that you’d never done that before, it was an innocent gesture of course, but it made danger signals go off in his head at a time like this.

You’ve been together for five months and not once has any part of you been this close to his groin. As he went through the motions of his internal reaction, he was also faced with the self awareness of his own insanity for feeling aroused by something so minuscule. It felt as though he could feel the short distance between your fingers and his cock, like strings of electricity.

He took a deep breath and attempted to relax himself. It was unfortunate that he never truly did pay much attention to the pastor, he’d usually spend these few hours lost in his own thoughts, but he’d like to refrain from that at this moment. He thought about the colors he could see around him, the way his chest heaved up and down, anything to distract him. He tried to think about the way the church smelled, but could only pick up notes of you beside him. Thinking about the way his body felt would only worsen things. The memory crept up like a serpent slipping through the cracks of a tarnished wall - Michael unfortunately recalled a dream he’d had about this once.

Just after the crowd makes their way out of the church, Michael holds your body still in front of him pushing you roughly over the pew in front of you. Your moans and pretty sounds bouncing off the pillars and mosaic tiles, bringing him to the point of sensory overload. His hips rammed into you like a filthy dog in heat, thrusting in and out of you with primal need. His hair laid buried in your neck, which adorned his grasp like a rosary as he held you up against him. With every slap of his hips against your ass he felt a flame inside him burning through every inch of his nervous system. Just as that flame was about to make its way out through his cock, he woke up, sore and sweaty.

You could feel him stiffen next to you. He let out a nervous cough before leaning towards you a bit to whisper in your ear. “E-excuse me…” he spoke frantically, standing from the pews and quietly making his way to the stairwell leading him down into the basement of the church and towards the bathroom. Without even getting in a stall - sure that no one else would enter - he pulled down his pants and let one of his hands fly over his bulging cock. Just a swipe of your skin against his had it struggling against the fabric of his dress pants. He rubbed over it a bit, taking deep breaths and imagining the damning face of his lord and savior as he fell into the arms of unholy desires - in a place of worship at that. Pulling his pants back up, he glanced at himself in the mirror, a disgusted look already painted his face.

The walk back up the corridor to the main hall was an opportunity for him to recenter himself. He quickly shuffled himself back over to you in the pews, sitting down a bit awkwardly. You beamed a bit as you saw him return, only to be met with a look of sternness you hadn’t seen in him before. His jaw clenched slightly as he felt your eyes on him - he looked straight ahead, building up the strength to meet your eyes. When he did, it was with a smile. One you hadn’t seen coming, or seen forming at all, but it was the Michael you know and love with that sweet, handsome smile.

As you recall, Michael spent the rest of that day chauffeuring you around to miscellaneous errands. He carried your bags for you, opened every door for you, his gentle hand on the small of your back guiding you about. Then, he dropped you off at home, a soft peck to your lips, a smile, and a small wave as he watched you enter your home before driving off.

He crawled into his bed, his right hand slithering under the covers, tugging the waistband of his own boxers teasingly as he scrolled his camera roll. You, everywhere, so much fuel for his fire, so much build up for his desire. His fingers slip past the fabric. Michael knew no matter how hard he prayed, or how honestly he’d repent, he couldn’t fight what he needed the most. When the room is lit only by the light from his phone and the sheer twilight beam through the window. When he lies next to no one, alone, desperate. He’ll fall to the sight of you every single time. The cycle repeats.

“….please, be merciful to me, a sinner.”

i should probably add that i have never been to church other than for a funeral once and i lowkey blocked that out so i am not a credible source for catholic practices (not that it’s ever that serious)

thank you for reading and i hope you enjoyed!

networks: @bllk-tv + @pixelcafe-network

dividerz: @toastray

[k1mbe3rly]

i absolutely love your writing!

can i request an nsfw alphabet for namgyu?

omg thank yewww🩷🩷

Nam-gyu NSFW alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Nam-gyu is def the type to just lay there after sex, maybe a towel or two but after that he’s so done for, so tired.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part about you is your thighs, he likes to grip (especially when he’s eating you out) and lay on your thighs a lot

His favorite body part about him would prob be his hands, he knows you like them especially with the rings on😩

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

When nam-gyu cums his favorite place to cum is inside you or on your ass, he loves getting messy with cum, either your cum all over the place or his

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

His dirty secret is wanting a threesome with thanos, or just watch you get fucked by him

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He is experienced, lowkey feel like he was that player type so he knows what he’s doing

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

def doggy style, he loves to see his hips crash against your ass and likes to watch his dick go in and out of you, but he also does like to see your face so maybe a mirror or missionary

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I’ll say in the beginning of sex he’ll maybe just do one joke than get into it

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Maybe just small hairs not completely shaved but mot TOO hairy as well

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Nam-gyu is very INTO the moment he honestly takes sex very serious for him cause that’s like his addiction besides drugs.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon

He does jack off every once awhile but obviously when you’re not there to help him with his boner

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

he def likes to pull hair, degrade you, and spank you maybe even light slapping on the face

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

the bed, the bathroom, the floor, the living room, the kitchen, the walls, honestly anywhere

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

just by looking at you he can get hard by imagining things and also by you trying to tease him

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

probably like hard core hitting, or like gun play

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he loves receiving head a lot but he would also eat you out anywhere

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Nam-gyu IS NEVERRR gentle. It’s always fast, rough, hard.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he is SO down for quickies, he loves fucking you anywhere, he just loves the thrill of maybe getting caught, and also has an excuse to go even rougher, “I’m just trying to hurry up”

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He does take risk, honestly doesn’t care where yall are, he would take the risk just for a quick fuck

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

OOF hunni.. he can all day and all night, this man doe NOT stop or wants to stop, but originally 5-6 rounds

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he doesn’t really use toys but he does own a vibrator

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he does tease a LOT, especially in public

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he’s not very vocal but maybe just groans and growl

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He would wake you up to fuck you

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s about 6 inches..? 7 when he’s hard

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

ermmm high enough, he does fuck you a lot so he does crave more sex than NORMAL people

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he’s fr into a deep sleep, right after he pulls out he’s already half asleep.

[princessbrunette]

rafe had been trying to pick a fight with bunny!reader all day due to his bad mood. however, due to her being a little ray of pink glittery sunshine — it just wasn’t happening.

first, the problem was the pink glittery dildo in your dresser that he found whilst snooping due to boredom, waiting for you to be done in the shower. he argues with himself whilst you sit at your vanity, giggling and happily doing your makeup.

“you tellin’ me you need that shit? ‘cus… ‘cus if that’s the case, don’t come begging for dick every thirty minutes when clearly you could be fixing your own problems.” he rants, huffing as you carefully brush mascara through your eyelashes.

“its not the same! pluuuus, i haven’t used that thing in ages. dont even know where you found it, daddy.” you’re clearly amused and it’s making things worse, locking eyes with your boyfriend through the mirror as he stands with his hands on his hips.

“think i’m stupid, right? if you weren’t still using this thing you would have thrown it in the trash.”

you spin on your stool, giving him a convincing pout. “i only use it when you go away on business trips with your dad, ‘cos i just miss you so much.”

he blinks, clearly not out of juice.

“you need to learn a little patience and self discipline, alright — you’ll appreciate this dick more without the fuckin’ silicone version.” he drawls and you giggle again at his word choice before bringing your manicured fingers to your lips to stop yourself.

“m’attached to it rafey. i like it. its pink and glittery and i’m not throwing it away.” you stand your ground, and his jaw ticks, looking around once more at the toy laying on your bed.

“cant do all the shit i do n’you know it… right? you call me when that toy fuckin’ chokes you out how you like it or spits in your damn asshole and shoves its thumb in there. yeah?” he mouths off before leaving the room, caring less and less about the argument as time goes on. now you really couldn’t fight him — he was playing dirty, and that made you horny.

his fighting spirit is given a new lease of life downstairs in the kitchen, when you accidentally blurt out the wrong name whilst speaking to him.

you’re giggling uncontrollably once more, grabbing at his shirt in the kitchen attempting to pull you closer as he holds his hands up, pretending to be totally disgusted.

“nah, who the fuck is that — huh? nate?”

“gosh, rafey — he’s from gossip girl! i was just thinkin’ about the show and your names sound similar! was an accident!” the fact you don’t sound sorry in the slightest is grinding his gears, not hugging you back when you manage to wrap your arms around him. “daddy hug me back.” you pout, and he peels you back with his hands on your shoulders.

“on thin fuckin’ ice today… alright?” he raises his eyebrows. you smile and nod, earrings jangling like there wasn’t a thought in your head.

it’s on the way to the country club that he’s really had enough, insisting on playing your music in the car, constantly winding down the volume to ask questions that didn’t need to be asked. your delicate hand reaches out for the volume toggle once more and he smacks it away.

“if you’re going to ask me if i’d still love you as a worm, or whatever bullshit you’ve conjured up — i suggest staying quiet, yeah? already told you that you’re pushing it today.”

he doesn’t have to look at you to know your smile is spreading.

“that wasn’t my question, but would you?”

the car pulls over to the side of the road with a swiftness, and he turns his body in his seat. you look unbothered as ever.

“why’d we stop?”

“you’re uh, you’re goin’ in the trunk. okay?” he rasps slowly, nodding his head like it would hypnotise you into agreeing. somehow, it worked — because your grin remains.

“okay!”

he marches over to your side and yanks you out before walking you round the back and opening the trunk. “i’m serious. get in.”

you do with no complaints — and by the time he is back in the drivers seat, he believes he’s taken it too far. however there’s no banging around, no crying, no screaming for him to let you out — so he drives away. the silence is rewarding, but he doesn’t feel great about it.

when he pulls up to the country club, he’s quick to walk around the backside of his truck and open up the trunk, relieved to see you happy as a clam — and lifts you out from under your arms. “that was fun! it was like you were a kidnapper, but also my boyfriend.” your eyes have a twinkle to them as he marches you towards his group of friends, gawking with questioning gazes.

“yeah you like that shit? ‘that turn you on?” he bites back sarcastically, but you nod anyway.

[yeetus-feetus]

one day Tim gets shot in the shoulder. The bullet goes straight through so he doesn't bother anyone about it. He hates bothering people with his injuries when there's people more in need than him. He goes home and collapses in bed, he'll deal with it tomorrow.

When he wakes up though, he finds that someone has already come and fixed him up while he was asleep. The area surrounding the bullet wound has been completely numbed too. What the fuck?

There's a flattened bullet hanging from his neck, and Tim wonders if it's the same bullet that went through him. It must be right? Why else would whoever fixed him up give it to him?

The bullet hangs on a shiny gold chain, and Tim stares at it in the mirror. Rubbing his fingers over it and coming to the conclusion it must be real gold. He'll check, just to make sure.

He also needs to investigate who the fuck has gold and expensive pain relief to waste on him. Why they did it. And how the hell they knew Tim was not only injured, when he told absolutely no one, but also found the bullet used on him.

What the fuck.

But this keeps happening, and Tim continues to be confused. He gets injured badly and tells no one, and the next day he's patched up and gifted gold.

Thing is, he can't really tell anyone without admitting he's been hiding his injuries. He can't stand to see Dick's worried expression, or listen to Bruce's disappointed lecture. There's more important things to worry about in Gotham.

He breaks his hand on patrol and when he wakes up the next morning it's been bandaged and put in a splint. Fuck. That was his dominant hand too!

His other hand feels heavy and when he brings it up to examine it as well, his fingers are adorned in various rings of gold.

A deep cut into his flesh and he passes out on his own floor, only to wake up in bed with perfect stitches and a burning sensation coming from his ears. He looks in the mirror groggily too see he's been completely wiped down off the coagulated blood that was surely clinging to his skin before his mystery nurse came to visit.

Not only is he clean and completely patched up, but there's gold hanging from his ears. Both ears are double pierced with perfect hoops of gold threaded through all four new punctures, well- 2 new punctures and 2 re-punctured.

His ears burn. It stings. But the earnings look so pretty, he looks really nice with them.

He smiles.

Then, his mug breaks. His favorite mug. And it's the cherry on top of a horrible, exhausting week. He'd been so stressed and overwhelmed and all he wanted was something to drink! Why did everything have to go wrong? Why did Bruce have to yell at him for doing what he knew he needed to do!? It wasn't fair... and everything just came crashing down all at once.

Tim crumples to the floor and begins to sob uncontrollably, cradling the broken pieces of his mug in shaking hands.

He wakes up in his bed.

It's odd, because he doesn't remember taking himself to bed last night. He's pretty sure he cried himself to sleep on his less-than-clean kitchen floor.

But he's used to this by now. Passing out somewhere and ending up tucked into bed by some mysterious being that Tim still hasn't managed to figure out.

It's nice.

It's really nice actually. It's comforting to know something is caring for him and keeping him safe and he doesn't have to embarrass himself by asking for it.

Except... the space in the bed next to him is warm. That's-

That hasn't happened before....

When he pads into the kitchen it's been cleaned, top to bottom. And his mug is waiting for him on the counter.

Except it's not broken anymore.

There is his favorite mug, whole again and full of steaming tea. Tim scrunches his nose at that, he'd much prefer coffee. But the aroma is nice, soothing, and he carefully picks it up to run his fingers over the lines of gold that glue the shattered pieces together.

Kintsugi.

And then it hits him.

The hair on his neck stands up, a small shiver running through him.

Someone's been treating Tim as their personal art project. Someone's trying to mend him with gold, trying to piece all that's left of him back together like he's fractured pottery.

He doesn't know how he feels about that...

A conflicting mix of dread and warmth settling heavy in his gut, bordering on the edge of uncomfortable and pleasant fullness.

But it's not like he has the words to describe the odd sensation. ..But he likes it.

[heavenbarnes]

Hiii, I just devoured your older bf!simon posts and I got this one brainworm

So, he hasn't figured out how to make albums yet in his gallery, the first time he passed his phone around to let his team gawk at your photos, he had accidentally left one of HIS photo

Imagine the team scrolling through his gallery, drooling at your photo in skimpy outfits, various state of undress then BAM, the hottest dickpic of their L.t. appeared on screen (courtesy of your instructions ofc)

I just think it'll be A Thing™, like, obviously they know Ghost is hot, probably also know how big his dick is, but seeing it presented like that? Some of them definitely moaned. And I bet Simon noticed, probably will start leaving a few of his own photos in between yours, as a treat for the boys.

(Feel free to ignore this if this isn't sth you're comfortable with 🫶🏻)

this is fucking insane i’m going to wet my pants- thank you for this idea you’re a genius 🫶🏼 | effective continuation of this

the 141 would like to enter your older bf!simon’s phone into the museum of natural history for its significant contributions to peace keeping efforts.

if that phone hadn’t been in this safe house, there would be far more destruction in their wake. it goes without saying, really.

what you will say is, whilst his phone is the metaphor- it’s really you that’s giving the opposition time to breathe (limited, their time will eventually come)

the dining table was small, when you had four hulking great men around it the thing looked minuscule. room temperature beers in front of them, it’d taken at least three bottles each for the first to speak up.

“c’mon mate, put us out our misery”

obviously their captain would take one for the team and go first, eyes locking with simon. without being able to see his mouth, it was hard to tell but price was pretty sure that was a chuckle (he hoped it was)

a quick rustle as simon shoved his hand in the pocket of his tactical trousers, retrieving the battered android and laying it in the centre of the table.

bated breathe, you could’ve heard a fucking pin drop as they all watched him unlock his phone. one long finger hovering over the camera app before he pressed it, an almost collective sigh of relief emanating through the house.

simon couldn’t and wouldn’t organise his phone, apps always open in the background, unorganised on his home screen, not a fucking photo album in sight.

photos heaped together in the one collective mess. it was very possible to be looking at an old receipt one minute and then the small of your back with cum across it the next.

majority of the photos were you, and not always filthy. simon couldn’t take a photo to save his life but the ones of you always looked breathtaking.

if you asked him, that’s just what you always looked like.

however, the 141 weren’t there for photos of you smiling as you pet a friendly dog. they were there for the kind of photo simon was just about to pull up.

sat on the corner of the bed, photo taken in the long mirror against the wall. thighs spread and one hand playing between them as the other held your phone next to your pouting lips.

gaz was the first to state the obvious.

“jesus christ, mate”

simon didn’t even blink, finger swiping through the next photo.

on the bed on your knees with your chest pressed to the mattress. looking back over your shoulder with a fucked out expression as you practically gave your ass to the camera.

the unmistakable sound of johnny shifting in the seat to his left caught simon, adjusting his cock just out the corner of his eye.

photo after photo, full nude, lingerie, simon’s shirts, just the bed sheet. with every one that passed, the beer was soon forgotten about when the buzz they got off you was unmatched.

the sweet glow that seemed to radiate off you filled the otherwise dim place the men had been hold up in. photos beginning to blur into one until-

the photo was taken from mid-thigh, simon somehow looked even bigger from this angle. shirt lifted enough to show his scarred stomach but his balaclava stayed on. exposed eyes staring down at the camera as his large hand wrapped around his equally large cock.

dead silence speared straight down the middle by a moan, pathetically covered with a cough. simon pretended not to notice the accent, left the phone in the centre of the table.

nobody could look away, it was physically impossible to tear their eyes off the sight in front of them. had they ever seen one that big in real life?

“fuckin’ell L.T, what’ya doin’ w’all that?”

they all knew simon had a big cock, you could tell by looking at him- the way he walked. if you’d ended up in the showers with him on base and seen it soft you’d even know.

it was unmissable.

but seeing it like this? looming over the camera at this angle, practically eclipsing the natural light, his thick fingers just closing around the base. this was something else.

you were quite the artistic director.

nobody wanted to be the first to say what the other was thinking. allowing the silence to fill the space only broken by the occasional sound of someone adjusting their trousers.

simon didn’t need anything to be said, he knew what he had and he knew the effect it had on- anyone really. he simply sat back in his seat, spreading his thighs wider and ignoring the occasional glance that fell on him when he did it.

finally cutting them loose, simon swiped to the next photo- back to you with cum streaked across your face. throats clearing and murmurs arising from the group.

“that’s real nice”

“would y’look at the fuckin’ state a’that”

“what i wouldn’t give”

simon grunted in agreement, eyes flickering around the table with a feeling invisible growing in his chest. a feeling that he wasn’t used to but didn’t- mind?

he didn’t think too long, he couldn’t think too long.

those photos would just have to become part of the regular.

[tobesolnelyx]

i just saw ur post that frat boy! jackie is next, but also…. frat boy nat <3 always standing outside the frat house door smoking cigs, checking girls out, telling guys they can’t come in if they look sleazy <33

— a little bit harder now || fratboy and g!p natalie scatorccio headcanons 🕸️

a/n: ahh i have too many headcanons for her. i could make whole ass playlist for her.

summary: people are annoying but turns out you’re the exepction. college modern au. girlfriend!nat.

warnings: NSFW - content - MDNI

★ — the weird part about her is that she knows absolutely everyone around the campus. like, everyone. that’s why frats tell her to stand in front of the house and check who’s coming in. like some stoned bodyguard. not like she’s complaining. she can smoke as much as she can. and there’s pretty girls! coming in and going out, giggling at her, in shorts skirts with messed up make up…she gives them crooked smile, leaning against the cold wall.

★ — it’s her way to choose with who she wants to hook up tonight. if some girl is particularly pretty, she starts flirting and before anyone notice, she drags her to her room for a quickie.

★ — that’s how she met you! she was already a little bit high by that time. she looked at ,you and thought that you’re gorgeous. like, real fucking pretty. and okay, maybe she wasn’t very sober but when she woke up next to you in the morning after heated sex, she was certain it weren’t only drugs. you were still unfairly beautiful.

she didn’t know what to do, obviously. it’s not like nat ever had one meaningful relationship in her entire life. she froze in place when you stirred awake.

“hey” you mumbled. voice thick with sleep, deeper after whole night.

something in her chest fluttered. fucking hell.

“hey” she breathed out, starring at you, ghost of smile played on her lips. a moment of silence passed, and she closed the distance between the two of you again. and you both melted into the kiss.

★ — you learned that she knows everyone cause she’s a campus dealer. it’s not like she’s a druggie. maybe a little bit. but at least she has money, right? and she’s not constantly drugged!

★ — she owns old motorcycle! goes everywhere by it. she even bought you a helmet so you can ride with her without getting hurt. always making sure you’re holding on to her tight. never driving too fast when you’re with her.

★ — and okay, maybe she has idiotic reputation, maybe she’s blunt and doesn’t really likes anyone (maybe besides other frats). she just has trust issues. but for you? oh hell, she’s a softie. not exactly the clingy and sappy type, but always near you. you learned that her small gestures speaks louder than any words.

★ — she ties you shoes, soothes your clothes and gently fixes your make up whenever it gets messed up. always here when you pick up an outfit before going out together.

★ — and once you’re done? she fingers you in front of the mirror. she can watch you squirm in your pretty clothes, riding her long fingers. you have to change your panties after that. they’re completely soaked after all. she discreetly snitch the ones that are dripping with your cum to probably jerk off later. while pressing dirty fabric to her face. freak.

★ — she’s possessive and she’s sure as hell gonna manifest this by grabbing your thighs or ass in public. especially when someone’s trying to hit on you. doesn’t say much about it, but it’s obvious, she will show you later in her bedroom.

★ — natalie is audible. she can get really loud when she’s fucking you really good. not a big fan of smashing cock into your cunt when someone might catch you tho. you’re hers. only she can hear your moans and watch how her dick disappears in your hole.

★ — going back to — she loves to praise you in bed. always telling you how good you are for her. how beautiful you are. and she loves to massage your scalp while you’re sucking her off.

★ — usually so closed off and cold, but once when she’s in the mood and there’s only the two of you, she makes the dumbest jokes on earth. having much more fun with that than you do. i mean, you laugh too, from how stupid she is.

★ — everyone says she’s an asshole. she kinda is. very bold, not scared to tell people what she really thinks about them. she might not getting into fights for you, but sure as hell she’ll be arguing until she win. she makes people feel like idiots for even starting stupid conversations with you. her mouth is really something. really something.

★ — she’s not a cheater but she might be a little too friendly with other girls. she knows many of them. half because of her multiple hook ups, half because of dealing. you get jealous easily because of that. unfortunately, she doesn’t seem to see the problems.

“really? what was that bitch name?” you huff while she’s trying to put on you your motorcycle helmet.

“who?” she asks furrowing her brows. she’s oblivious to that. it’s normal for her to talks with girls on parties like that. besides, she genuinely doesn’t understand. she loves just you, so where’s problem? “oh, c’mon, pretty girl” she says pressing kiss to your nose. “im yours, get over it”

she gently puts helmet on your head. “i love you, stop that.” she murmurs. and god help her, she never loved anyone like that.

★ — when you argue, she’s mad or frustrated, she starts yelling in italian, gesturing so much that her rings are clinking against each other.

★ — right, her hands! always cold, covered in jewellery, fingers tangled with yours. seriously, she always holds your hand. actually she might have a thing for your hands. kissing your knuckles, sucking on your fingers…

★ — tank tops. loose tank tops with band logos and tight jeans. the bulge is extremely visible in them tho. this might be a bad thing, too. her cock is aching inside when she gets hard. (and she gets hard often. girl definitely has massive libido.)

★ — weirdly good at cooking and baking. makes you dinners and breakfasts, saying that going out is too expensive. and she’s better at this anyway. you’re pretty sure it has something to do with her italian roots.

“we could just order food from that—“ you start but she’s already in the kitchen. doing things pretty aggressively. very italian of her.

“no” she says with an accent. and there’s no further discussion. it’s tempting to continue anyway. she likes to shutting your mouth with kisses. or…other things.

★ — shitty at comforting but she always tries to make you laugh! she’s good at that. even if she’s just being silly.

★ — she’s not really good at expressing feelings verbally but sometimes when she’s high she starts making love confessions.

★ — family issues. to this point that when she broke a glass, she was prepared you’re going to tell her how much of a failure she is. poor baby. but she has you, and you’re doing everything to show her how healthy relationship looks like

[flwrkid14]

Ok, you did amazing with the addams family au. Now is it possible to have the batfamily and/or the justice league react to them? Sorry for asking immediately after the last one. Please take your time and no pressure.

tysm anon!! i hope this lives up to ur expectations ! <3

The first time Bruce meets them, he almost doesn't knock.

He stands on the doorstep of the old manor, surrounded by creeping vines and statues that seem to blink when you’re not looking. There’s fog rolling in across the garden, and somewhere deep in the house, something howls.

He’s faced gods. Aliens. The end of the world—twice. But this? This is different.

Because when the door opens, Tim is standing there. Serene. Dressed in black silk and silver rings, with his hair pinned back like a prince preparing for war. He smiles like secrets. He speaks in low tones, carefully enunciated, like every syllable is chosen.

Danny’s behind him, radiant and grinning and barefoot. There's moonlight in his hair and shadow under his nails. He looks like a wish granted wrong and made beautiful anyway. His arm curls around Tim’s waist without thought, possessive and devoted in equal measure.

"Welcome," Tim says. "Please, come in. The house is very excited to meet you."

And that’s not a metaphor. The house creaks in greeting.

---

The children are... something else.

Bart phases in and out of rooms muttering to ghosts only he can hear. Cassie and Anita speak to each other in tongues no one else knows. Kon and Dani keep dueling with enchanted broadswords.

They leave offerings on the windowsills before bed. No one quite knows for who or what. They duel for fun. Their bedtime stories are legends of ancient monsters with names no one else can pronounce. Their laughter sometimes echoes for too long.

“They’re harmless,” Tim says pleasantly, as Dani levitates three feet off the floor, eyes glowing.

Bruce, halfway to calling Zatanna, just nods tightly.

---

The batfamily handles it exactly how you'd expect.

Dick brings muffins and accidentally participates in a blood pact. Jason keeps joking about it—until he finds himself buried up to his neck in rich soil while Dani solemnly explains “we’re helping your roots, Uncle Jason.” Steph loves the vibes. Duke is side-eyeing the ghost in the hallway mirror that only he can see. Cass takes one look at the kids and says, “They fight well,” like it’s the highest compliment.

Damian disappears for two days and returns with a pet spider the size of a basketball and a cryptic smile.

Alfred and Danny become fast friends. They discuss herbal tonics, rare poisons, and long-lost techniques of preservation. “You steep your mandrake root first?” “Only if I want them to remember the dream.”

---

When the Justice League visits, things escalate.

Clark walks in and instantly gets hugged by a disembodied hand. Diana is enchanted. She’s utterly delighted by Tim’s gothic elegance and Danny's over-the-top adoration. She brings a cursed sword as a hostess gift. They keep it in the foyer.

J’onn enjoys the vibes. He sits with Cassie and Bart as they summon something from the other realm. J’onn helps. They succeed. Nobody talks about it afterward.

Hal is terrified. He doesn’t know why. He won’t go near the punch. Barry trips over a summoning circle and ends up in a mirror dimension for twelve minutes. No one is concerned.

---

It feels like an odd arrangement.

And yet.

No one can deny how much Tim smiles now. How still his hands are when Danny touches them. How soft his voice goes when he says, “They’re our children.”

The house may creak. The shadows may whisper. The candles may flicker without wind.

But it’s warm here.

Safe. Loved. A little terrifying.

Very them.

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

Being with different Toman members and they're all sweet and slow with you but you really just want them to twist your guts like a big dog that ate too fuckin' fast. So you try to tell them that you want it to be rougher. You want to be spanked harder, choked a little, knocked around a little and fucked hard.

And they're afraid to at first because you're their baby. Their sweet girl. But they'd do anything for you. At least once.

So without further adieu, they give you what you've been wanting for so long.

Draken holds you in a full nelson in front of the mirror and he fucks up into you until you're a limp, dripping mess in his arms. And he's a teensy bit worried until he sees the faint smile creep across your swollen lips.

*

Mitsuya is usually so slow and sensual with you that it takes a little convincing before he lets you ride him like the two of you fucking like this is going to save the universe from a massive asteroid. He's the one who ends up limp and drooling, though.

*

Chifuyu is just totally out of his element. So you start off small, with spanking. With him spanking you, rather. And he learns that he really likes to see the way your fat ass reverberates against the palm of his hand. He's also really into rubbing and kissing the red splotches when you're done.

*

Baji is like where the fuck do you want me to start? He, of course, goes right for biting you and marking you up with his pearly fangs. He even broke the skin a little when the two of you came together.

*

Kazutora slipped right into his role here with you. He had you flat on your belly on the bed and he was fucking into you so deeply that every hard thrust of his cock was hitting you just so that you'd gone dumb on his dick. He grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled your head straight back 'round so you could look at him as he fucked the intelligence right outta you. He liked it so much that he didn't even ask if it hurt you afterward. (It didn't, anyway)

*

Mikey wastes no time and goes right for your tits. He has always loved them and borderline worshipped them. But now you've given him the green light to just let loose. He sucks so harshly on your nipples that they are actually littered with little red speckles. The way he pinches and kneads at the soft flesh is curious. It's almost like he was planning this the whole time ;).

Taglist ::: @kazutora-kurokawa @arlerts-angel @katkitkats @darkstarlight82 @viburnt

[fashionteahouse]

Now I must have an Embry NSFW

Thank you lovie!! 🌸🌸

i gotchu bb 😽! this was funn hope you enjoy :)

nsfw alphabet hcs - embry call

a ~ aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

it took you by surprise at first, but he’s more touchy and affectionate after the fact. insists showers together even if the cleaning part never gets fully finished, you both are sighing in each others arms in bed regardless. gets hungry and will want to go to sleep and wants you right in his arms.

b ~ body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

when he wakes up in the morning, his shirtless nights remind him of the abs that he possess. whenever he gets out of the shower, he likes to look in the mirror at his body. that’s the thing about shapeshifting that he likes, he didn’t have to exercise to have the nice build that he has.

his favorite body part is his partner’s lips. they’re so soft and moist. open kisses is the thing he enjoys a lot. his warm thumbs can’t help but feel the soft feeling as he swipes them, lucky moments include when you accidentally dart your tongue out and poke his finger due to accidentally licking your lips from instinct.

c ~ cum (anything to do with cum basically)

your cum turns him on more than him cumming. he doesn’t mind at all getting messy with your cum. however, doesn’t want his cum on your body, he feels it’s too messy.

d ~ dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

the times he helped you look for your underwear, were all pretend. he would stick them somewhere for the times you weren’t around and he would miss you, he would cup your underwear around his dick as he jerks off. wants to more of it, but enjoys homemade tapes.

e ~ experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

before phasing, the farthest he went was second base, however he never told anyone. after phasing, his newfound attention made him pay more attention to what feels good and what doesn’t. he has a good idea of what he’s doing but he learns something new each time he does it.

f ~ favorite position (this goes without saying)

he feels it’s underrated, reverse cowgirl, he gets to feel everything. the front and back.

g ~ goofy ( are they more serious in the moment or are they humorous, etc)

in the beginning, a few giggles will come out of you from his humorous remarks, but it’s only to make you feel comfortable. he’s very in tune so he’s pretty intense and it rises as time passes.

h ~ hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes?)

he’s groomed. he trims before getting into the shower, he feels that too much hair carries dirt. the carpet of course match the drapes.

i ~ intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

in the moment, his words are simple but yet poetic. they make you feel good, confident and comfortable. he takes his time and doesn’t rush which adds onto the effect.

j ~ jack off (masturbation head cannon)

he really only did it if he hadn’t gotten any in a very long time which is rare but if his partner isn’t around, he does it but it’s quick. he will send videos if you request.

k ~ kinks (one or more of their kinks)

resuming during an orgasm, he wishes to do it more often, but your hands being restricted as you’re overstimulated.

l ~ location (favorite places to do the do)

wherever it happens, he will adjust. he doesn’t have a favorite but he doesn’t care as long as there’s flat surface. he does enjoy car sex.

m ~ motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

their partner helping him take their clothes off. also them making the first move almost brings him on edge.

n ~ no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

anything degrading. sex for him is utopia in a way, everything about it is good. turn offs is if he feels like he wants it more than you. if his partner is putting little to no effort, it will feel like a chore for him.

o ~ oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

he loves giving oral. he loves the taste, licking at someone’s soul. he doesn’t look for receiving one, but he will happily accept it. his skill is good, almost too good.

p ~ pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual ?)

honestly depends. both are very passionate.

q ~ quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc)

he doesn’t mind them, but preferably, he likes to take his time and soak in the feeling and go on own pace, doesn’t like to feel rushed.

r ~ risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks?)

they’re down to experiment if it’s something that’s on his mind for some time, he won’t do something in the spur of the moment, he likes to think things through. taking risks are done but very rarely, he feels if it’s not broken, don’t try to fix it.

s ~ stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

he can go on and on and on and on. he lasts pretty long, there’s times when you thought he’s finished, but nope.

t ~ toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?

he’s not a fan of them honestly. he would use them if his partner had some but he feels he can pleasure you better than a toy.

u ~ unfair (how much they like to tease)

enjoys it almost more than he should. the trait rubbed off on you, you find yourself teasing him like he does you, he still enjoys it.

v ~ volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

his volume is low, but the sounds in the room helps him concentrate, the sound of your small sighs, bed squeaks, the sound of skin rubbing and slapping against one another. quiet grunts and groans are heard from him.

w ~ wildcard (random head cannon)

one time he made you genuinely cry during climax. he thought he did something wrong until you told him it was due to it being so good. that’s when he started to have an idea of how good he was.

x ~ x-ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

its veiny and hung. it’s heavy. however, he holds himself like he isn’t, but you know better.

y ~ yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

yes.

z ~ zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

since he goes on and on, he gets tired once he sees that his partner is tired. he feels after sex sleep is the best sleep.