ameri-blog

[ameri-blog]

Tags: [mlw][mdni][ex-husband!Roy][missionary][fingering][squirting][don't even asking][oral m! receiving][anal fingering][snowballing][hair pulling][he's a desperate man][look at the the new divider. so demure][breeding][daddy kink?][creampie][msub?][idk she says do it, and he does it][i don't make the rules, i just write them:3]

Roy watches Lian settle into the backseat, her backpack tossed haphazardly in Jason's lap as he rifles through the bag, eagerly searching for snacks that he knows you packed in.

"You ransacking my kid now, Todd?"

Roy questions, muscular arms crossing over his broad chest, the T-shirt he's wearing stretched taut across his muscular torso, vibrant red fabric a contrast to his sunkissed, alabaster flesh. The tattoo on his bicep peeks out, green ink swirled marring his skin.

"When you bring perfectly cut watermelon with no seeds to work, I'll ransack you instead." Jason retorts, opening up the clear Tupperware and setting it down on the centre console, between Lian and himself.

Her inky strands are tied back into pigtails, a fuzzy red jumper to fight the slight chill in the air and a pair of daisy dukes, with those red Mary Jane's you insist on buying her in every colour.

She looks nothing like you. Her mother's eyes and hair, she doesn't even look like Roy.

But she looks like you. The fond expression as she munches on the watermelon you packed in, the snort that leaves her when Jason swallows the one singular pit that you've managed to miss and his expression screws up in distaste.

"Mommy says if you swallow a seed, a tree's gonna grow in your tummy, Uncle Jay." Lian hums, reaching into her backpack and pulling out a wet wipe, wiping the red and sticky juice from her hands and from Jason's long fingers, the action almost innately.

The action makes the men soften, because they can see just how much you've rubbed off on Lian.

Her sweet nature, the quirky things she randomly spouts.

"Then your mommy should have a bunch of trees in her belly." Jason hums, his fingers spread out for Lian to keep cleaning his hands.

Roy's stature stiffens, green eyes widening to land on Jason and he mouths, 'why would you say that?'

"Because of all the fruit she eats!" Jason defends but Roy knows.

He knows.

When Roy steps over the threshold of your house, the familiar scent of vanilla and coffee hits him like a freight train and he swallows, taking a deep breath to welcome the scent he's known as 'home'.

He can hear the dishes clanging slightly in the kitchen, the soft hum of music to tinkling alongside the splashes of soapy water and Roy remains quiet, grabbing one of the dishcloths and beginning to dry the dishes.

His gaze remains lowered, eyes trained on the way his hands dry porcelain plates and handmade clay bowls, green pools occasionally flitting to where your manicured hands remain submerged in steaming water.

And he clears his throat.

"I—...uh... Are these new curtains?"

Roy's voice is quiet, his head lifting only enough for him to look up at the curtains that cover the kitchen window.

Mostly white. White lace with a dark brown ruffled edge that matches with the teddy bears printed onto the main part of the curtain.

"Yeah." You answer with a hum. "Lian picked those out." The corners of you mouth twitch at the memory, and Roy notices.

He always notices.

"You're a good mom." Roy murmurs softly, continuing to dry off and pack the dishes into the designated spots. "Would you... Want another? Like.... One of your own?"

It's a question you don't want to answer. Especially not when Roy's asking.

Emerald eyes watch you pensively as you move around the kitchen, your attention on everywhere except Roy because you can't look at him.

And you shrug your shoulders.

"Yeah, I would." You hum softly.

"But you wouldn't want your kid's dad's to be different guys?" Roy states and without thinking much of it, you nod your head.

"I'll give you a baby." Roy states. "A healthy baby. A real chubby bastard too."

"Roy...." You sigh softly, "I don't think...—"

"Don't think." Roy interjects. "Let Daddy do the thinking."

Muscular fingers dig into the daisy-printed cushions of the sofa, and Roy lets out a low groan, head tipping back as he watches you slobber around his aching cock. Half-lidded eyes, a hand threading through your hair and gripping the strands as he feels the way your throat tightens around him, his flushed tip nodding against your oesophagus.

"Fuck, baby, just like that. Just like that..."

He whines, muscular thighs tensing and straining against the fabric of his jeans, feeling the way your nails drag against the material, and the way your soft, pouty lips wrap around his veiny shaft.

He watches the way your cheeks hollow when you suck him, your hands moving up his broad thighs and settling on his tightly toned abdomen.

Only to find out that it's... Not as tightly toned.

A slight pudginess has your eyes widening, your head lifting until his cock slips from your lips with a wet 'pop!' and you stare up at Roy.

"Did you gain weight?" You question with a surprised squeak, eyes widened with surprise and he swallows, the blood rushing through his ears making it difficult to hear you properly.

And it takes Roy a second or two to realise what you're asking and his ears tint red.

"Uh.... Just a few pounds but, I'm gonna start cutting next week ag— oh shit."

Roy gasps, hands gripping the sofa cushion so hard that his knuckles turn white and all he sees are fucking stars. Speckled against his eyelids as an orgasm crashes over him like a fucking tsunami and he gasps, a shaky breath that turns into a high pitched whine when you don't stop sucking.

The taste of cum fills your mouth and you know better than to swallow it immediately, instead milking him with soft, spittle-covered lips before you rise, standing between his thighs.

Your knee digs into the sofa beside his hip, your lips pressed against his and the taste of his own cum filling his mouth nearly has Roy proposing again.

Shaky hands bracket your hips, and he's forcing your skirt towards your waist, fingers pulling your panties to the side as two digits instantly bully their way into your cunt.

Your nails dig into either side of his face, your brows creasing as you struggle to adjust to the intrusion that's been just... Too long.

"Oh, you're so fucking tight." Roy groans, his face moving to nestle in the curve of your neck, inhaling that scent he's missed.

Misses the way it'd cling to his clothes, to his pillows, to his car seat, to his suit.

"You're not fucking anyone, baby?" Roy questions and you meekly shake your head, your hips bucking when he presses his thumb against your clit, and leaves you to your own devices to roll your hips just the way you like to.

"Awh, poor baby." He coos. "Let me take care of that pretty pussy, okay?"

You don't know how long it's been.

Your nails grabbing at the armrests, a heavy hand entangled in your hair and tugging you everytime you lose that arch for even a second.

Roy's beefy hips snap mercilessly, the lewd sound of your squelchy pussy rings out in the quietness of your home, drool dribbling down your cheek and soaking into the throw pillow beneath your head.

"That's it, baby. Fucking take it."

Roy groans, a muscular hand moving to rest on your hip, an iron grip pulling you back against him and with each movement, his cock jams against your cervix in a mixture of painful and pleasurable sensations, and your eyes water.

Your ass is stinging, the sensation only getting worse with each unforgiving thrust of his carved hips, heavy balls slapping against your clit with each movement and it's overstimulating. You don't know how many orgasms you've gotten but goddamn, you're feeling that coiling knot slowly start to build behind your navel.

"Play with your pussy, baby. Play with it." Roy breathes out, his hand leaving your hip and dragging along your plump thigh, giving you a sharp squeeze before guiding the limb to rest on the back of the sofa.

You're not that flexible.

But before you can even object, he's pummeling into you and your vision is getting hazier with each messy circle you make over your clit.

You're uncoordinated, you're sloppy and each time, you feel that thick globs of saliva trickle down the cleft of your ass and trickling down around your stretched out hole.

It's a burning stretch.

The kind that comes after a good workout and your body's bent in almost uncomfortable positions, and you gasp when you come.

Squirting onto the surface of the couch cushions beneath you, gushing so hard that you push Roy out of you but instead of pushing himself back in, his flushed tip swipes across your folds.

And the stimulation is too much, your body going limp and your hips twitch with every weak gush that trickles down your thighs, pooling at the spot where your knees dig into the sofa.

And Roy hums, hips moving to rest, and he leans over you, pressing a kiss to your back just as he pushes back into you, feeling the way your soaked walls attempt to pull him deeper.

To pull him closer.

And he rolls his hips, pressing a sweet kiss to the curve of your neck.

"I'm gonna come back tonight, and give you that baby, okay?" Roy breathes out softly, arms wrapping around your waist and you meekly nod your head, muttering a lazy 'mkay'.

The sound of Roy leaving, and closing the door behind him has you snapping back to reality and you perk up, lashes fluttering and heavy with unshed tears.

—♱—

"What's with the smile?" Jason questions, although, the twinkle in his emerald pools already say he knows.

A drink in his hand as he reclines against the park bench, eyes flitting between Roy's face and where Lian is playing with some lady's chihuahua.

Roy stares at Lian, watching the way her expression lights up when the dog jumps into her lap, tail wagging excitedly.

"I learnt something about myself." Roy answers softly and Jason lets out a hum, silently urging Roy to keep talking.

And a grin creeps onto Roy's face, million dollar smile gleaming in the sunlight.

"I'm not above a good, old fashioned baby trap."

[ameri-blog]

Fantasy Guide to Addressing Nobility

It can be hard to remember how to properly address your noble or royal characters when writing a fantasy court. Here is a quick guide:

1. King/Queen:

Usually addressed as either “Your Grace” or “Your Majesty”. Consort (married to a ruler and not reigning in their own right) can be addressed the same. Sire or Madam can be used also.

2. Prince/Princess:

They are addressed as “Your Highness”. They are NEVER addressed the same as a King or Queen

3. Duke/Duchess:

These are addressed with “Your Grace”. This was a common term also used by royalty before Henry VIII got to big for his codpiece.

4. Earl (Count)/Countess:

Are almost never referred as the “Earl of Narnia” but “Lord Narnia”.

5. Lord/Lady:

An easy one. They are called “My Lord” or “My Lady”.

6. Emperor/Empress:

These may be equal to a King/Queen for status but the have a grander title. They are only addressed as “Your Imperial Highness/Majesty”

I hope this helps when writing your court or fantasy novel.

[ameri-blog]

✶⋆.˚ MDNI, 18+ ONLY

✶⋆.˚ dick grayson x female reader

✶⋆.˚ sending nudes, male masturbation, dirty talk (??), both reader and dick are down bad, beta read by kali ml @silkentrigger ♡

✶⋆.˚ 1.3k words

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You and Dick were friends. Good friends, best friends. From bumbling around with your newfound freedom when he made the Titans, to the still as chaotic but much more manageable life of adulthood, you and Dick have stayed friends. Even being miles away from each other, you both find time to keep in touch. Even if it’s only you sending a quick photo of what you’ve bought at the local patisserie or Dick sending a snap of the Blüdhaven skyline during a full moon.

You pretend not to notice the fluttering in your chest everytime you see Dick’s name light up on your phone screen. You’ve been friends too long for that.

You’re ignoring that feeling right now, in fact, as Dick’s text has you smiling already, you haven’t even read it yet.

‘Look at Haley!!!!’

You open your phone excitedly, expecting another photo of Haley to grace your screen.

What greets you is not an adorable photo of the lovable pooch, but something that makes your brain screech to a halt. All thoughts promptly leave your brain, and your mouth feels dry.

The image currently gracing your phone screen is probably the most artistic nude you’ve ever seen.

Dick sent you a dick pic.

Holy shit.

Dick is laid out across his white sheets, winking into the camera. His other hand, the one not holding his phone is- holy shit. You’re pretty sure your eyes are bulging out of your head like an old cartoon character. Dick’s fingers are wrapped around the base of his cock, the tip is flushed pink, precum smeared over the slit, his abdomen and the coarse hairs leading from his navel to the base. You squint slightly as you try to work out if he’d even fit inside you, he has to be an inch above average at least.

Dick’s illuminated by what you’re assuming is the sunset, the golden light making him look ethereal.

Your hands are shaky as you stare at the masterpiece that is your naked best friend.

What do you even do now? This was obviously not meant for your eyes. But you’ve seen it. You’ve seen your best friends’ nudes. The best friend you’re absolutely not secretly in love with, no, sir.

Do you send one back? Do you pretend you never saw it? What’s the etiquette here? You certainly don’t know.

It could be funny, right? To send Dick a photo back. Then you could both laugh at this and move on. Pretend it never happened. Yeah, that’s a really smart idea.

Dick is pulling on his Nightwing suit as his phone buzzes. He figures it’s you, replying to the adorable photo of Haley presenting her tummy to him for tummy rubs.

It is not.

Dick feels like someone’s sucker punched him, the air leaves his lungs so quickly.

There you are, knelt in front of your mirror on the carpet of your bedroom floor, knees spread just enough that Dick can see the lacy blue- Nightwing blue- panties hiding your pussy from view. Your phone is covering your face, but there’s absolutely nothing covering your tits. Dick’s eyes zero in on them, just staring. Suddenly he’s imagining how your tits would feel in his hands, how you’d react if he squeezed them.

Why did you send him this? Was it meant for someone else? Who is Dick kidding, of course it was. There’s no other reason for you to have sent him a photo like this. He’d sent you a photo of Haley for- oh.

That is not a photo of Haley. Not at all.

You were replying to him. To the nude he’d sent instead of the photo of Haley.

Dick’s all too aware of the interest his cock is taking in this photo, so he promptly turns off his phone, throws it onto the couch and tells himself he’ll deal with it after patrol.

You’re half asleep when your phone buzzes on your pillow. You paw around for it lazily, fingers grasping the cool metal and pulling it to your face. The brightness makes you squint, blinking rapidly as you’re met with a shirtless selfie of Dick in bed.

“Just finished patrol.”

Your eyes trail down to the V of his hips, sheets bunched just below the coarse hairs at the base of his cock. His hair is damp, probably from the post patrol shower Dick claims he has to have. Your cheeks flush as you imagine running your fingers through the soft, damp strands, placing kisses down his toned abdomen, licking down that V line and to his cock.

Holy fucking shit.

You expected Dick to laugh, make a joke. You sent that photo to make it even, to make Dick feel better about sending you a photo of his, well… dick. Not that you’re going to complain about this turn of events. Not at all.

You ruck your sheets down your body, flick the bedside lamp on and lift your phone, trying to get a good angle. You hum once you’re satisfied with the end result, immediately sending it to Dick with no explanation.

This isn’t fair. It just isn’t fair. Dick swears his mouth is watering as you send a photo back. You’re laid on you messy bed (Dick’s always said you had too many pillows), sleep shirt pulled up so Dick gets a tiny peek of your tits. The best part? The blue panties- the Nightwing blue panties, his brain unhelpfully adds- on full display.

The miles between the two of you have never been more apparent. Dick is pretty sure there’s nothing he wouldn’t give up (maybe except Haley, but even then he’s so down bad he’s not even sure of that) to be able to fuck you right now. The need he’s feeling to press you into the mattress, fuck you until the only thing you remember is his name is overwhelming. It’s embarrassing how hard he is, and he hasn’t even laid eyes on your cunt yet.

Dick’s breathing is laboured as he wraps a hand around himself, stroking himself slowly to take the edge off. Is this wrong? Getting off to your best friend that Dick absolutely doesn’t have feelings for. With fumbling fingers, Dick reaches for his phone.

You’ve died. You’ve died and gone to heaven because there’s no way in hell this is real.

On your phone screen is a video of Dick Grayson, desperately jerking off, the camera shaking slightly due to the movements of his wrist. He’s staring up at the camera with big, pleading eyes, soft moans escaping his lips, flush on his cheekbones. He’s a vision. A dream.

A whine escapes Dick’s lips as you watch the video, completely mesmerized. He smears the precum leaking out of his slit over his cock.

“Please let me fuck you, dove,” Dick’s voice escapes your speakers. It’s too hot in your bed, your skin feels like it’s on fire. “Please, dove. You’d let me fuck you, right?”

Dick moans, eyes screwing shut as his hips buck into his hand.

“You’d let me fuck your pretty pussy, right? You’d let me ruin you?”

You’ve never pressed the call button so quick in your life.

“Hello?” Dick answers immediately, he’s breathless, the sound of his laboured breathing goes straight to your cunt.

“Yes.”

“What?” Dick sounds so confused, moaning softly. You can hear some rustling, he must still be touching yourself.

“Yes, I’ll let you fuck me.”

Dick keens into the phone, choking on a moan. “Oh, holy fuck.”

Your face feels too warm, your panties sticking to you, you’re so wet. You don’t think you’ve felt this aroused in your life. “Did you just…”

“Yeah,” Dick breathes.

Your phone buzzes, a photo.

There’s a pretty flush on Dick’s cheekbones, his lips parted due to breathlessness. His abdomen is streaked in pearly white cum, his cock softening against his abdomen. Dick’s never looked so pretty, he’s just so wrecked.

You’re still not sure what this means for your friendship, the lines are blurred. But that can wait, because you’re horny as fuck and your clit is aching for attention.

You prop your phone up on your pillows, making sure the angle is good, before grabbing your vibrator. It’s Dick’s turn for a show.

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aaaaa, holy shit this has been a long time coming (literally)

thank you so much kali for putting up with me rambling about this and helping beta read it and feed the downright sinful thoughts in my head. like, this is what she woke up to lol

don't worry, i'm already working on a part two

also my asks are open pls yap at me

[ameri-blog]

MDNI 18+

degrading things simon riley would say during sex

simon had your head shoved down on the mattress with your ass up in the air. your back arched whilst his cock splits your cunt in half, plunging deep inside your gummy walls as you clenched around him, milking him dry. you had spent the whole day riling him with your bratty attitude, and now he finally had you at his mercy. “sweet lil thing can’t even take some discipline?” he taunted as he gently rubbed his calloused thumb over your squished cheek, “what a pathetic little mess.” his voice mocking as he took the sight of your runny mascara and hair all tangled as you sobbed from the pleasure. “spoiled lil thing aren’t ya? gettin’ wot yer want with my cock.”

“bet you like it when i treat you like this hm? gettin’ fucked like my personal flesh light.” simon grunted as he watched the way your cunt seemed to accomodate his length, stretching around his girth obscenely as it made the most lewd noises as he went back in, a white creamy ring formed around the base of his cock. he loved the way you moaned, he could hear the dryness in your throat as he continued to abuse your cunt.

gently he pushed the hair that was clung onto your skin covering your face, but you shyly pulled back, muttering a small sentence that didn’t quite reach simon’s ears. “aw luvie, don’t pretend you’re so shy now.” he cooed softly as his other hand gently rubbed your back, “got yer screamin’ just a few seconds ago and now you chose to be shy?”

he smacked your ass, the sound filling up the room paired with the sound of the bed creaking, his tatted hand fisted your hair, pulling you up right with your back against his chest. “look me in the eyes yer lil brat, give sum respect to the man fucking you.”

[ameri-blog]

spreading the papa frank agenda on this day

papa frank who likes to have your legs on his shoulders, only wearing those cute cotton candy lace panties you bought a few weeks back.

he’s face level with your cunt, thick finger tracing your slit watching how the damp patch in the middle gets darker and trailing it back up to where your clit would be, rubbing light circles around it as you whine above him, “frankie-” you try but you’re met with a hard slap to your inner thigh causing you to jump and cry.

your teary eyes meet with Frank’s unbothered steely gaze from below as he glares at you, “told you none of that beggin’ shit.” he states with no room to argue before the pads of his fingers come back to your clothed clit earning him a weak whimper, “you either get this or nothing at all. i warned you to stop bein’ a fucking brat.”

[ameri-blog]

✶⋆.˚ MDNI, 18+ ONLY

✶⋆.˚ mark grayson x female cosplayer reader

✶⋆.˚ mark’s teenage fantasies come alive (I know he had this exact fantasy fr), unprotected p in v, cumming inside, oral male receiving, from behind, mark bends reader over his desk (is there a name for that position? idk), mark calls reader baby a lot, not beta read

✶⋆.˚ 1188 words

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“Okay, babe, I got the con passes and the list of panels and signings we want to- oh wow,” Mark stops in his bedroom doorway, staring at you unashamed.

It’s like all of his dirty teenage fantasies come to life. Is he dead? Is this heaven? Mark can’t believe it. You look… perfect. Beautiful. Fuckable.

Mark knew he had struck gold when he found a girl as beautiful as you, who actually liked him, and who was also a nerd, just like him. He loved staying up late, watching anime, reading comic books, creating fan theories and just generally nerding out together. It’s bliss, total bliss.

But the icing on the cake, the best part, the part Mark is finding out right now. You’re a cosplayer. And right now, you’re decked out in the most detailed outfit he’s ever seen, the wig is styled perfectly, and the makeup you’re applying makes you look even more like his favourite comic book character (behind Senace Dog, obviously).

His fictional crush is stood in his bedroom.

You smile at Mark, a faint blush on your cheeks at his obvious ogling.

“You look…” Mark can’t find the words. “Just wow.”

“We’re not skipping this con, Mark.”

“Fuck.”

This is torture. Mark loves comic con as much as the next nerd. Artists alley, the meet and greets, the signings, the cosplayers.

But this?

Mark doesn’t love this. Except he does, maybe. He’s not too sure.

He watches as people approach the two of you. Random people compliment your cosplay, ask to take photos. Random people check you out. Is he invisible? He’s right there, it’s so obvious you’re together, right? Right?

It doesn’t help that Mark is desperate to pounce on you. The thoughts bouncing around his skull of the many ways he wants to ravish you are getting out of control. Too often today, Mark has had to tear his gaze away from how your chest looks. The strapless bra he’d helped you put on this morning accentuates your cleavage. Mark swears he can see your nipples through the fabric of the cosplay in the cool air when you both step outside for a breather.

“Did you find everything on your list?” You ask, peering at Mark curiously.

“Huh?” It takes a moment for Mark to realise what you’re talking about. “Yeah, and then some.”

You laugh at that. Mark had been adamant he would only buy what was on his list, no less, no more. In true nerd at comic con fashion, Mark had bought way more than he had planned to buy, and spent way more than he planned to spend.

“Yeah, I can see that,” you tease, nudging Mark with your shoulder. “Those prints, though, that art was insane, I could’ve bought them all.”

“The one with the cool nineties style, right?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” You turn as a group of other con goers approach, asking for a photo, complimenting your cosplay. You take it all in stride with a friendly smile, posing with them, chatting and laughing.

Mark watches, simply admiring you. He’s still wondering how he got so lucky. He’s also wondering how opposed you’ll be to wearing that cosplay in bed.

You’re not opposed at all, it turns out. You’re a vision, looking up at Mark through your lashes, lips red and slick with spit as your mouth sinks down his cock. Your tongue presses against the underside as you come back up, suckling the head, making Mark squirm. He wants to bury his hands into the wig, tug you closer, until your nose is pressed against the coarse hairs on his pelvis. But you’d been specific, don’t fuck up the wig.

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” Mark groans as you take him in again, the tip hitting the back of your throat. You hold him there before pulling off completely. You smile up at him, and Mark groans again. This is all of Mark’s dirty teenage fantasies come alive. Mark is no longer jerking off to fanart on the internet, he’s got the (almost) real thing on her knees in front of him.

“Shit baby, you look like a dream,” Mark murmurs. “Come here.”

He’s pulling you up, leaning down to press kisses across your face before finding your lips. Mark’s tongue fucks into your mouth, hands flexing against your hips as he grasps at the flesh. His cock brushes against the fabric of the cosplay, smearing precum over the fabric.

“You like the cosplay, then?” you giggle, hands combing through Mark’s hair as he walks you backwards towards his desk.

“Do you even have to ask?”

You don’t get to respond, because Mark is turning you around, bending you over the desk, palm resting between your shoulder blades to hold you there.

“Look at you,” Mark is pulling at the fabric of your cosplay, exposing you. “Fuck, look at you.”

Mark takes his cock in hand, pushing forward, rubbing the head through your slick folds.

Your hips wiggle, pushing back, encouraging Mark, needing him inside you.

“I got you, I got you,” Mark mumbles, pressing against your entrance. He groans as the tip breaches your cunt. Your walls squeeze around him, and Mark is worried he’s gonna blow his load too soon. Because you feel way too good around him.

Mark takes a moment, and then he’s slamming his hips forward, causing you to choke on a gasp. Your hands press against his desk, lips parted, back arching as Mark’s hands bracket your hips. He moans at the slapping sound from his hips connecting with the fat of your ass.

“Mark, oh god,” you press your forehead to the cool surface of the desk, grounding yourself. “You really like the cosplay.”

Mark grins, a hand leaving your hip to squeeze your ass cheek, massaging it. He really does like the cosplay.

“Touch yourself for me, baby,” Mark’s hips stutter. He’s close, but he also doesn’t want to disappoint. Not that Mark has ever disappointed you. “Play with your clit.”

It’s a little uncomfortable, but you manage to squish your hand under your body, fingers pinching at your clit. You whimper, cunt clenching around Mark as your fingers toy with the bundle of nerves.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, grunting as your cunt clenches again. “That’s my girl, that’s- oh shit- my girl.”

You can feel heat coil in your abdomen, rubbing tight circles against your clit as Mark’s cock brushes against that spot inside of you that makes your knees weak.

Mark’s thrusts get shallow, quick, his breathing heavy as his hips still, pelvis pressed flush against your ass. He groans, head falling forward as he spills inside you.

You gasp, the tension in your core snapping as your pussy spasms around Mark’s cock, milking him as you follow him over the edge.

Your breathing is laboured, Mark’s head rests between your shoulders, and you can feel his warm breath on your skin.

“Will you cosplay for me again?” Mark asks, you can feel his lips curl into a grin against your back.

“Only if you let me do you in the suit.”

“Deal.”

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i’m alive lol

i have had the worst writers block of my existence and omg this took too long to write

there are too many wips on my laptop, hopefully o get to them, maybe one day

dear lord i need to find a beta reader to confirm the smut doesn’t read like a bad porno

[ameri-blog]

"You mad? Wanna sit on my face?" With jason todd....

warnings. read the prompt from smut prompt list

He wasn’t sure what he’d done to piss you off, or if you were pissed at him at all but damn was he going to use it to his advantage. Angry sex was always one of Jason’s favourites, but usually it was him that was angry so this was a little happy twist. Maybe he could get you to take it out on him.

“Hi baby,” Jason grins smugly at you, tilting his head at you from the doorway. You merely huffed in response to him, clearly not in the mood as he lifts you up like a cat to sit you on his lap.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you grumble.

“Tired?” He asks, nuzzling into your neck. “Something else?” His hand runs down your tummy, “you mad?”

He doesn’t stop there, as he tugs your pants open. “Wanna sit on my face?”

You do, just to wipe that smug look off his stupidly perfect face. So instead of responding you push him onto his back, your lips meeting his when you press yourself down on top of him.

Jason groans when you do, nearly whining when you shed yourself of you clothes. And he just stares up at you like you’re his goddess with the most perfect body he could ever wish for. His hands immediately move to your breast once they’re freed, pinching your nipples much to your pleasure.

His eyes drop as you shed your panties, mouth watering as you push his hands away, moving yourself to hover over his face.

He doesn’t wait a second longer before he’s dragging you down to sit on his face, mouth opening to taste you. He groans as the taste of you, sweet and a little bitter just the way he loves you. His tongue drags up, through your folds and he groans when you whine softly into the quiet room.

Your fingers slip into his hair, gripping tightly as you use him to get off. Honestly this had to be one of Jason’s dreams, you using him to get what you want, to take your frustrations out on him.

“Just like that baby,” you whisper when he grips your thighs and presses his face into your pussy further.

He could die here, he thinks, happily right where he belongs under you.

Jason whines now, helplessly and pathetically when you roll your hips, clit bumping against his nose as you grind down trying to stimulate your pretty little bud.

When he realises he not getting you there all the way, his lips latch onto your clit to suck and he groans when your hips move erratically and your grip on his hair tightens.

He’ll get you there, as many times as it takes for you to let your anger out.

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

[ameri-blog]

fire fighter! simon riley x single mom! reader

simon being completely enamoured by the pretty single mom that volunteered at the fire station with free lunch every friday.

pure fluff, mentions of burns and scars - might do a part 2 and not proof read teehee

he was a man of discipline - of routine, and hard work and yet he was currently staring at you moving around swiftly as she handed out cookies like a love sick boy. his eyes seemed to follow your every move, how you seamlessly interacted with his coworkers and even the other parents and children.

of course, his interest didn’t go unnoticed by his captain, price who gave him a sly smile before nudging him slightly.

“she’s single for if you want to make a move and stop ogling her.”

if looks could kill price would be six feet underground.

he couldn’t make a move, not when you were the complete opposite of him. you were the like sun, beaming no matter what as you platted each meal, you were always so positive, so selfless no matter what.

simon was convinced that someone as dark and troubled as him would dim your light, scars and burns on his body that were so ugly and gruesome it almost felt blasphemous to touch you.

“si? want some lunch?” your soft melodic voice breaking him out of his trance, you always had a way of making him spell bound, like a siren.

he shook his head with a small attempted smile. “‘m not that hungry.”

but he was really fucking hungry. though he was convinced that if he ate your food he would be addicted, begging for more.

“but fire fighters need energy!” a small high pitch voice spoke up, your daughter. “mama makes good food, try it pretty please?” her eyes wide and pleading, her small lips jutted out in a determined pout.

simon cleared his throat, “i guess a little bit won’t hurt.”

oh it wasn’t just a little bit. he came back for seconds, thirds, fourth.

simon ate like a man starved, his fork scraping against the plate as he finished it again. “told you mama’s food is the best!” your daughter beamed as she perched herself up on the step next to him, her feet swinging in the air whilst simon’s were extended out. the size difference was comical.

her gaze drifted over his uniform, her eyes wide and curious. “what’s this?” her small chubby finger pointing to his scarred hand. instinctively, he pulled his sleeves over them, shielding something so dark and ugly from her innocent eyes. “‘s nothing, kid.”

“does it hurt?” she asked, completely oblivious to simon’s insecurity. he shook his head “doesn’t hurt anymore

white lie. god, it hurts so bad not physically but emotionally. sometimes he couldn’t even stand staring at his hands, purposely trying to cover them up with gloves but it irritated the uneven skin which made it even worse.

“hey, you shouldn’t be asking questions like that missy,” you playfully narrowing your eyes at your daughter who smiled sheepishly. “thought i’d taught you better than to pry into peoples personal lives.” you raised a brow at the smaller girl whose eyes were crinkling due to her cheesy smile. “gotta go get food!” she giggled as she ran, well stumbled away.

“sorry about that, she’s a curious little thing,” your eyes glued to her as she asked another volunteer for more food. simon chuckled lowly, “‘s alright, got good intentions.”

simon’s heart felt like it was going to explode, it was never heated this fast, not even during the missions where he thought he was going to die. he felt so aware of everything, secretly hoping you didn’t notice how he was hiding his scars.

you cleared your throat, pulling something out of your pockets. “i got you something,” your tone soft and shy, completely different to what simon was used to.

gloves.

“i heard cotton is good for sensitive skin, so i thought it would be appropriate for you.”

god, what did he do to deserve you?

“if you don’t want it it’s fine, i don’t want to cross any boundaries-“

but before you could even finish he took them from your hands, putting them on. “they’re amazing,” his hands flexing under the material as he tried them on. he felt like a school boy who was talking to a girl the first time, his mind completely blank.

“do yer wanna grab sum coffee with me?”

tag list:

@happysmappy @mydickishuge560 @dolli333 @madebyyicarus @l-otti @butlerslut @vampwifee @i-wanabe-yours @bluebarrybubblez @cinnamongrl2006 @akkahelenaa @yanfeiiiiii @actualpoppy @lilyalone @other-fandoms-reblogs @goonette6969 @doubledizzy22 @lucienofthelakes @arabellatreaty @tessakate @kayden666 @ghostsd8s @ama-eve @webmvie @your-internet-tenshi @novthewolf @1ilo @simpingreader @angeldoll1e @avgdestitute @anonymouse1807 @chaieanne @i-live-in-spite

[ameri-blog]

vintage medical glass needle / 1950

[ameri-blog]

little house in the woods | jason todd

masterlist | taglist

cw: shy! reader, threats, angry jason, fingering, cum eating, smut, unprotected sex, corruption kink, pussy eating, feral jason, not beta'd MDNI

synopsis: You're a sweet recluse who allows her home to be Jason's safe house. What happens when he starts to get too close to her?

The screen door creaks open late one evening. Jason Todd steps inside your little kitchen like it's a habit, almost as though he's lived here all his life. In truth, you'd only known Jason for about two months now since he came stumbling to your doorstep one stormy evening. Things seemed to pass in a blur since then.

Jason's shoulders are tense beneath the fabric of his jacket, bruised from the constant fights he participates in. His jaw is sore and his knuckles are split from punching again. He's already in one of his moods.

He kicks off his boots by the door without looking, the way he always does, listening to the familiar sound of dirty soles thunking against the wood floor. Then, he heads straight to the sink like he's on autopilot, having memorized the layout of your house like it's his own. He doesn't even need to look down to where the fluffy hand towels are as he dries his hands.

There's a plate of dinner waiting on the table that's still hot and steaming, and you're standing near the counter, looking at him like he didn't just come home covered in bruises and blood. You're smiling in the cutesy, innocent way you always do. The way that boils Jason's blood in both a bad, and really good way.

"Hi, Jay," you say, your voice smooth like honey as you look up at him with big, sparkly eyes, like he's just your husband coming home late from work.

Jason swears under his breath and marches through the kitchen, hovering around you for a moment, before muttering a gruff "Hello." in return, slumping down into his usual seat at the dinner table, looking down at tonight's dinner.

The plate's got roast chicken, buttery mashed potatoes, and a pile of vegetables on the side. It's very balanced. It looks like food you'd see in a magazine with a recipe underneath. You cooked. Again. Like you do every night.

"Thought you might be hungry," you say, cheeks all pink from the stove's heat, or maybe just from looking at him. You get so bashful when he stares. "You want me to get you a knife or anything else?"

"No. S' fine." he grumbles, picking up a fork to start stabbing at his vegetables. You nod, still smiling all cute as you take out a jug of lemonade for him and pour him a class without asking, setting it down beside his plate, right before leaning down to press the softest, most innocent kiss to his cheek. Right near the cut on his jaw, his sweet spot. "Glad you're home safe."

Jason goes still at the feeling, a little grunt leaving him involuntarily. The second your lips brush over him, it's as though every muscle in his body tenses. His eyes flick to you, but you're already walking away, humming to yourself like you didn't screw him over with that little gesture.

What the hell are you doing, letting a guy like him into your house? Letting him sleep in the extra bedroom you cleaned just for him and eat off your table without asking for compensation? What kind of sweet, naive girl lets a man with knives and guns in his duffel bag and scars up his back and shoulders stay in her house like he's not dangerous?

"You shouldn't do that," he grumbles as you have your back turned to him, a deep scowl on his face. You blink, turning back toward him, confusion soft in your eyes. "Do what?"

"You know what I mean. The kissin'. The..." his voice gets tight, jaw ticking, "...the 'Jay' with your little giggle. Don't."

"Don't act like we're friends?' you ask, so innocently, head tilted in a way that makes him want to pounce on you. "We are friends."

Jason clenches his jaw. His fingers curl around the fork, knuckles white. "You should be more wary, is all" he mutters, frowning as you respond with a little huff and a playful eye roll, going over to check on the pies you made for dessert that are cooling on a rack.

He stares at the curves of your body, gaze panning from your hips, down to your thighs, and back up to your ass, plump in the cute little nightgown you're wearing, with the hem riding up your thighs enough to show your panties if you bent over. He can't take his eyes off of you, not for a second. He's looking at you to figure out how someone like you could possibly be real, let alone a part of his life. You feed him. You made him a safe house with gingham curtains and a soft bed and dinner waiting on the table every night without fail.

He's coiled so tight it feels like his skin doesn't fit right, seeing you flutter around the kitchen like everything's fine, apron tied snugly around your waist. You turn and meet his gaze again as he continues.

"Why aren't you scared of me?" Jason mutters all gruff, pushing back his chair and standing. His eyes are all dark and stormy. "You let a guy like me in your house. You give me food, a bed, clothes. You let me walk around your kitchen like I belong here." He steps forward slowly. "You don't even lock your fucking door."

Your throat bobs as you swallow, but your expression doesn't change. That soft, quiet sweetness still on your face like you've never even heard a threat before.

"I don't have to lock it because the only person who comes around here is you, and I know you."

Jason's frown deepens, and he crowds your space, hissing at you coldly. "You don't know shit about me." He stares down at you, jaw clenched, breathing through his nose. He keeps coming closer and closer to you, all while you don't even realize what you're doing to him, standing there in your cozy little kitchen, smelling like a dessert.

His body pushes you back into the counter, his jaw is clenched and lips twisted in a snarl. You open your mouth, but he cuts you off, his voice rising. "You let me in here. You open your house up to someone like me and think I'm not gonna hurt you? You think I'm just gonna be your lil' prince charming?"

He shoves his hand against the counter beside you, trapping you in place. His face is inches from yours, but this time, you don't see the same tired, frustrated guy you've been taking care of. This time, all you see is the threat, the dangerous man who doesn't think you should have trusted him at all.

"I could strangle you, you know," he says all soft. His hand shoots out, quick and brutal, grabbing your neck just below your chin. "You think I wouldn't do it? You think I wouldn't snap your neck like a twig if I wanted to?"

Your pulse spikes. His grip isn't tight enough to suffocate you, enough to make your heart pound harder. "Or what if I wanted to cut you?" His thumb presses into the soft skin of your neck, a reminder of how fragile you really are in his hands. "What if I wanted to steal everything in your house and leave you with nothing?"

You look up at him, whimpering softly at the feeling of his huge hand wrapping around your throat. Your smaller one grabs at his wrist, staring up at him with big, glassy brown eyes. "J-jason..."

"What if I wanted to tear off one of those flimsy lil' dresses you wear around me and fuck you?" He lets out a low mumble, tipping your head up and rubbing his thumb over your lower lip. "You think they're cute, huh? You think I don't notice the way you dress like 'm not gonna want to tear you apart?"

Your breath hitches, and for a second, you can't find your words. He's crowding you now, pinning you to the counter so you have no way out. His thumb pushes harder on your lower lip.

You stare at him, your face flushed. Your chest is rising fast now, like you're trying to keep calm, like your body's betraying you even if your voice hasn't cracked yet. You're not saying anything, but your fear's loud enough without words.

Jason's still holding onto your throat, the heel of his hand digging into your pressure point while his thumb smushes against your soft lips. His chest heaves with each breath, his face twisted up even though deep down, he's thoroughly enjoying himself. He relishes in the slight tremble your body gives and the way you look up at him like you're starting to realize he's not savable.

He leans down to your level. "You scared now, sweetheart?" he mutters. You try to speak, but it catches in your throat. He can feel it under his hand, that flutter in your pulse. "Yeah," he breathes. "That's what I thought."

He tilts his head, leaning down to slot his mouth over your cheek, mocking the little kisses you always give him when he's home. He moans against your skin, starting to press sloppy kisses down to your jaw. He's done holding back, finally indulging in the terrible, heinous thoughts he's had about you since you let him into your home.

His hands roam under your dress, hiking it up to squeeze the plush globes of your ass, all while you moan softly, eyes fluttering shut.

He kisses up the side of your throat and up to your ear, huffing low inside so you hear every bit of how hot he is for you. "Lemme show you what bad men do to pretty girls who play house with 'em."

His grip on your throat stays steady, firm but not cruel. His other hand drags up the back of your thigh, slow like he's savoring it, slipping beneath the hem of your nightgown until his rough fingers find bare skin. His breathing is ragged now, lips pressed to the curve of your neck like he's trying to inhale you.

"You smell s'sweet," he growls, nose brushing the soft skin beneath your jaw. "Always smell so fuckin' sweet."

He's spreading you apart before your brain can comprehend it, lifting you up with his free hand to guide you up onto the counter, manhandling you like you weigh nothing. Slotting his body between your legs, he looks down at your pretty cotton panties. Just as adorable as you, all lacy and pastel like you didn't have a clue what they'd do to him.

Jason huffs a breath through his nose, low and unsteady, staring at the soaked little patch in the middle. "Fuck," he mutters, dragging his thumb over the wet spot slowly and teasingly. "Look at this. You want me like this." His hand grips your thigh to keep you open, his gaze locked on your panties as he takes two fingers and pushes them up against your panties so he can trace your plump little pussy through the fabric, firm enough to make you twitch.

You jolt, grabbing onto his shoulder while your tummy flips. "Mmh... i-its good... b-but 'm sensitive..." you warn softly, trying to fight against his grip ever so slightly, but he keeps you spread for him with his firm hand. Your breath catches when he starts tugging your panties to the side, baring the warm air of the kitchen onto your even warmer hole.

His hand grips your hip, anchoring you in place while he teases your entrance with the pads of his fingers, just barely pressing in. You let out a strangled little sound, back arching as he slowly presses a finger inside you with a low groan. Your body clenches around him and it makes him twitch, a guttural sound leaving his chest. "Fuck, you're tight," he mutters, nose nuzzling yours. "So fuckin' warm. This pussy's been waiting for me, hasn't she?" You nod helplessly, eyes wide, lips parted as he pumps his finger inside you slow and filthy. He watches you fall apart for him, cheeks flushed and pretty little moans leaving your mouth with every curl of his finger.

His thick digit curls just right inside you, slow and deep, while his thumb rubs circles around your clit, not too quick, just firm and steady like he's testing how fast he can get you to fall apart. You whimper again, your hips rolling into his hand without thinking.

He watches the little faces you make while you're in heat like this, as well as the way your body reacts to his touch. His eyes are locked on the place where his finger disappears inside you with that delicious squelch, and once you're relaxed, he slides in a second to fill you up even more. You jerk, nightgown bunching up more at your waist as he shoves his fingers deep inside you, wanting to see how tight you can squeeze around them.

"Damn," he mumbles, "You're squeezin' the fuck outta me." His free hand grabs your thigh harder when you flinch back, nails digging just a little into your flesh to keep you still and wide open for him. He leans in, breathing heavy against your cheek as he grinds the heel of his palm against your clit while his fingers keep stroking inside you, that slow, steady rhythm that's driving you crazy because it's just enough to have you trembling, but not enough to tip you over.

You whine out a soft "Jay," all desperate and teary eyed, your grip on his shoulders tightening as your legs start to shake. You don't even realize you're grinding down onto his hand until he growls, "Yeah… that's it. Use your words. You need it that bad, don't you?"

He keeps his face close to yours, eyes flicking between your mouth and your eyes, watching how dazed you look already, lips all swollen and wet from how much you've been panting. "Feels 's good! M-more..." You whine, your body starting to move on its own, hips rolling into his hand, trying to chase the pressure that's curling in your gut.

Jason doesn't let up. He just keeps fucking you with his fingers, deep and slow, his thumb pressed firm to your clit, working you in tight little circles until your legs are twitching and your mouth is open like you're gasping for air.

"You're already gonna cum, huh?" he murmurs, voice low and thick. "Already cryin' on my fingers like a needy little thing." You nod, head falling back against the cabinet behind you, your breath coming in short, desperate little bursts. " 'M gonna...Jay, I...I'm gonna..."

"Come, then," he orders, eyes locked on yours. "Cum on my fingers like a good girl. Show me how sweet this fuckin' pussy is."

You shatter around him body locking up tight before it all melts down at once, your orgasm crashing over you so hard you can't even stay upright without holding onto him. Your whole body trembles and he watches it all, jaw clenched, eyes dark and blown wide with how fucked he is for you.

He keeps his fingers inside you even after, not pulling out until you're twitching too much to take it, and even then, he pulls back slow, glancing down at the mess he made of you. He brings his fingers to his mouth without even thinking, licking them clean while he keeps his eyes on your face.

Then he leans in, mumbling in your ear. "You made a mess on my hand,"

Jason's gaze drops down to the tent in his jeans, thick and straining against the zipper, and he lets out a breath that sounds more like a growl.

"Take my cock out," he says roughly, eyes never leaving yours. Your fingers tremble a little as they reach for his belt, heart hammering in your chest while you work it loose, the clink of the buckle loud in the quiet kitchen. Jason's eyes are burning into your face the whole time, watching the way you fumble a little, the way your lips part and your breathing gets uneven while you tug his belt free, then pop open the button on his jeans.

You slide the zipper down slow, hands shaking just the tiniest bit, but you don't stop.

He helps you just enough to shove his jeans down his hips, groaning softly when you reach into his briefs and wrap your fingers around him. He's thick and hot and already leaking against your palm, and the second you touch him, his whole body stiffens.

"Jesus," he mumbles, chest rising and falling hard. You glance up at him through your lashes, a little dazed and shy, but your hand stays wrapped around him as you stroke him once, then twice, making his head fall forward, forehead bumping into yours while he groans.

He looks into your eyes, his voice all rough and shaking with how close he is to snapping. "You're gonna do it, alright? Not me." he says, jaw clenched. "You're gonna show me how dirty you are, and take me in your hand, and you're gonna line me up with that sweet little pussy like this was your fuckin' idea."

You nod even though you're buzzing and feel your body burning, and he watches you slowly wrap your hand snugly around his cock, his face close to yours as you guide him between your legs.

"Yeah," he mumbles, watching your face. "Just like that." You whimper when the head of his cock bumps against your entrance, slick and warm, and Jason moans low in his throat at the feel of you, the head of him just barely pushing inside.

Your fingers tremble as you line the head of him up with your entrance, glancing up at him as you press him against your folds. "It's so hard," you whisper, all breathless. "Your cock..."

"I know," He responds, watching you continue to guide him, soaked folds parting around the flushed head, barely nudging it in just enough for both of you to feel that first slide. " 's... fuck... c-cause I want you s'bad." He hunches over you a little, mouth hanging open as you finally line him up just right. His tip catches on your soaked entrance and he groans deeply, forehead pressing to yours again like he's trying to stay tethered to something.

He pants, grinding the head against you, not pushing in all the way yet, smearing your wetness all over the flared head of his cock while your thighs twitch around his hips. You make a tiny noise, all high and breathy, and he grins against your cheek. His nose brushes your temple while he shifts his hips just enough for his tip to nudge inside, slow and heavy. "Fuck... there we go, sweetness. 'S suckin me in now."

He grabs your thigh with his free hand, pushing it up until your knee's hooked over his forearm, giving him more room, more access, more of you. He doesn't push all the way in yet, just slides in a few inches, slow and aching, just enough to make your mouth drop open and your nails bite into his shoulders.

"Keep lookin' at me," he hisses. "Don't you dare look away. You let me in, shit... now you're gonna watch what I do to you."

Your eyes flutter open again, all teary and glassy and overwhelmed, and he groans and thrusts in deeper, hips jerking forward like he can't help it anymore, burying himself with a low, breathless curse. Both hands grab your thighs to hold you wide open while his cock sinks alllll the way inside, thick and throbbing inside you.

He sinks in all the way, slow but deliberate, forcing your body to stretch and take every thick inch, and the second he bottoms out, he stays there, buried deep inside you, breathing hard through his nose like he's trying to stay composed, but he's not even close. His hands grip your thighs so tight it makes your skin dimple, holding you still like he's afraid you'll run, like he knows you're not ready for how far he's about to take this.

"Fuck, it's good," he mutters, voice wrecked as he stares down at where you're joined. "Look at that. Fuckin' swallowed me whole, didn't you?" He gives a rough roll of his hips, just enough to make you jerk and gasp under him. "Tight little pussy- already squeezin' like she wants to keep me."

Your head tips back as a choked little moan slips out, your hands clinging to his shoulders now, nails dragging across his back without thinking. He groans, fucking into you harder now, faster. Your body jerks with the impact of his rough thrust, and he moans, loud and low against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin before he bites down like an animal.

He keeps fucking into you with rapid, punishing thrusts, his body bracketed over yours, your legs forced wide apart so he can get deeper. You moan loudly, not bothering to hold back on being responsive. You're slicing into his back with your nails, mewling and panting his name harshly.

He growls at the pleasure pain you give him, rutting into you harder, like the sound of his name like that flipped some switch in him. "Say it again," he pants. "Say my fuckin' name."

You do, a little louder this time, all breathless and shaking. "Jason, mmh! please!"

"Fuck," he bites, his whole body shuddering as he pounds into you now, hips snapping forward again and again. "You're gonna let me ruin you, huh? That what you want, sweet girl? Gonna let me fuck the good right outta you?" You nod, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes, not even sure if it's from how good it feels or how deep he's inside you, but it makes him groan, deep and ragged, like he's never seen anything more perfect.

His voice is nothing but a harsh whisper now. "I ever catch you lettin' another man in this house, I swear to god-"

You cut him off with a soft little moan, too blissed out to process the threat, and Jason grunts, cock pulsing inside of you as he scrapes against your gummy inner walls. You let out a loud, high whine, clenching tight around him, and he curses under his breath, leaning forward to kiss you rough and messy, dragging his tongue across your bottom lip.

The taste of you is too much for him, and he groans loudly, grabbing onto the back of your head so he can fully suck your tongue into his mouth and buck into you faster, like a dog in a rut. "Gonna cum f'you, sweetness." He grunts, tearing out of you suddenly.

You whine at the loss of the full feeling inside your belly. and he grabs onto your plush thighs again, squeezing his throbbing, flushed cock and pumping it a few times before splurting all over your pussy. You pant, heart pounding in your chest.

He cums load after load on you, before dropping onto his knees and stuffing his face into your cunt, needing you to cum for him too. He doesn't want to wait for your sensitivity or that coil to fade away, and so he thrusts his tongue deep inside your sopping hole, eating out your cunt like it's the only dessert he needs.

You scream, ecstasy washing over you so suddenly that you can't even warn him when you cum into his hot mouth, watching him eagerly drink it all up and tongue fucking you through your orgasm.

He groans at your taste once again, unable to get over how sweet you taste. He stands and scoops some of the cum off his thighs and pushes his fingers lightly to your mouth. "Open f'me, sweetness." He mutters, watching you oblige with a dazed look in your eyes. He feels his cock twitch to life once more at the sight of you tasting him and looking into his eyes like he's just ruined you, which he has. Your hair is a mess and your lips are swollen, and your lower half is soaked with his cum.

"That's my sweet girl."

[ameri-blog]

backshots + frank castle. like the man has your hair wrapped around his fist as he fucks you dumb xxx

he’d be sooo mean about it too </3 i fear the frank castle brainrot is terminal.

you’d be a mess splayed out on your hands and knees before him, face contorted into an expression that displayed nothing sheer bliss and absolute pleasure. with one hand tangled in your soft locks, the perfume from your shampoo enough to make frank damn near lightheaded, your cries of ecstasy echoed off of the walls of your shitty little apartment — something you were sure your neighbors would complain about later, but none of that mattered when you had frank castle nine inches deep in your drooling cunt.

“stop your fuckin’ squirming,” frank grunted, yanking your head up enough for him to nose along the column of your throat. despite the gravely tone of his voice, there wasn’t an ounce of malice laced in his addictive words.

had you been squirming? it didn’t seem possible with how those thick digits of his wrapped around your soft tufts of hair with full intentions of keeping you in place, leaving you at the mercy of his powerful hips and well timed thrusts.

it wasn’t until your chest hit the plush of the bed did you realize you had, in fact, been writhing around and slowly inching yourself away. it was entirely subconscious, like your body was aware of the inevitable cockdrunk state you’d be entering sooner rather than later.

frank had used his other hand to bring your arms behind your back, one of his hands large enough to envelop both of your wrists in a grip you knew was practically impossible to escape from.

“theeere we go, sweetheart,” frank crooned, a cocky smirk tugging at his lips when he felt you become impossibly tighter around his cock, “no where to go now. ain’t that right?”

why is coming up with nicknames that frank castle would use so difficult for me.

also ! my inbox is open for thirsts or whatever ! just a thought !

[ameri-blog]

Jason who's favorite position is prone.

Don't get it wrong, he's a complete amateur when it comes to sex, the first time you two fucked he cried. So this little discovery, it was an accident, truly. He didn't mean to get carried away but you were squeezing him so good, and the pretty sounds you were making had his knees giving out.

At first, he had you face down, feeding you those deep strokes, the kind that leaves you breathless. But then he began to move, pushing at the curves of your hips, then your spine, forcing you down until your tummy presses against the soft sheets. And he can't help it, naturally wherever you go, he follows. So he lays himself right on top of you, he's so big too. Big thighs cage around your ass, grinding real deep and slow. It’s downright sinful. Jason Peter Todd in all his 6'1 glory, smothering you against the mattress and it's like something inside him clicks. His mind won’t shut the hell up because suddenly, you’ve gone all soft and pliant from just some good dick.

His mind is so fucked out, he hasn’t realized how good he’s been fucking you until he registers your squirming and soft whining beneath him. Sometimes he forgets how big he is, all of him. Because in this position, he basically kisses your cervix. He’s taking his time, it’s torturous, the slow drag of his hips, and the way he bullies his way back in- pushing up against that sweet spot that makes you cream.

He’s got his lips pressed against your ear, cooing and shushing you so sweetly when you say you can’t take it. One hand pushes past your hips to pet at your sensitive clit, and you paw at his wrist- a weak attempt at pushing him away. It’s too much, he’s too big and he’s talking so fucking nasty in your ear you just can’t take it.

But every time you try to shut your legs in protest, his thighs flex and his ankles lock around yours, easily pushing them back open. Wordlessly saying, “take it, take it, take it”.

And after fucking you through your third orgasm, this man has the audacity to blush. Shoving his face into your neck but at some point, his mind gets all hazy. He latches his canines onto your throat and you cum. Still fucking you through the mattress, he works you up to your fourth. Finally coming down, you sob out a half-hearted “mean”, but he doesn’t budge- just hushes you with a sickly sweet “so good, baby”.

reblogs appreciated! ⋆˙⟡

[ameri-blog]

thinking about an impossibly patient daddy!matt spanking your pussy raw before cumming in it when you act out real bad one day. spanking you with your legs spread until your clit is swollen, glowing crimson, tender and stinging. and you’re whimpering soo loud, body trembling from how sore it feels when he drives into you from behind, fucking you down into the mattress, his legs locking yours so wide that you cry from how humiliating it is. and his beard rasps hot against the shell of your ear as he chuckles lowly, ‘push back, sweetheart. i said—push—back.’ because this isn’t playtime, it’s a lesson, and he’s going to make sure it sticks (˃̣̣̥ᯅ˂̣̣̥)

[ameri-blog]

I can’t stop thinking about dad!Matt with a cry baby reader liek would he be sweet? Condescending? Both? I lowkey think he would love it lol

god i want to be his crybaby. as soon as i get into a relationship i become so needy and emotional and then it always comes back to bite me

matt would fucking love if you were a crybaby. sobbing all over, making a mess of yourself all for him? adorable. it makes him feel so big and strong when he gets to take care of you.

had a bad day? he wants you to sit on his lap and cry it out into his chest while he rubs your back. sad movie? it’s okay, sweetie, you can cry all you want. dad’s here for you.

and crying during sex? he has to hold himself back from cumming too soon. he’ll wipe your tears but instead of being comforting like he usually is, he’ll make fun of you.

“my cock too much for you, baby? awh, that’s okay. you can cry if you need to. i know it’s a lot.”

i need him.

[ameri-blog]

Keep drawing this old Grayson these days

[ameri-blog]

Clark Kent x f!reader x Bruce Wayne

Tags: threesome , poly relationship, breeding kink, kryptonian heat, overstimulation, p in v sex, creampie, jealousy, slight voyeurism, praise + filth, they love you fr, needy clark. possessive bruce, ruined reader, reader is babygirl and we love her

a/n — okay but listen… this started as a what if and turned into a holy shit. clark in a breeding season is something so feral and intense and just? delicious. add possessive, calculating bruce into the mix and now we have a very overwhelmed reader being absolutely ruined by two men who can’t decide if they want to protect her or fuck her senseless.

Clark Kent, mild-mannered, sweet-hearted alien… hits Kryptonian Breeding Season.

It’s instinctual. Biological. A deep, primal shift in his body chemistry that he can’t control. His pupils dilate when he sees you. He can smell your hormones, your arousal, your fertility. And it drives him wild. All he can think about is breeding you. Not just sex—breeding. Stuffing you full. Watching you swell with his child. Claiming you so thoroughly there’s no doubt you’re his.

And poor Bruce?

At first, he’s pissed. Annoyed that Clark can’t keep his hands off you. Jealous, territorial, growling at him across the Watchtower when he sees the way Clark stares at you. But then—he sees what Clark is becoming. The way he trembles with restraint. The way his voice drops when he talks to you. The way he almost loses control when you so much as touch his arm.

And Bruce, being the dark, possessive bastard he is, starts to get off on it.

Because maybe he realizes that no one—not even an alien desperate to breed—can take better care of you than they can, together.

So… what does Bruce do?

He helps.

He pins you down while Clark fucks you full, whispering filth in your ear like,

“You feel how desperate he is? He needs to breed you, baby. Needs to put a baby in you. And I’m gonna make sure he does it right.”

He watches Clark pump into you over and over again, coaxing every drop of Kryptonian seed from him. Bruce kisses your tears away when it’s too much. He strokes your hair while Clark fills you again. And when Clark can’t stop shaking from how badly he needs you again, Bruce wraps an arm around your waist and murmurs,

“Let him. Let him do what he’s built for. You can take it, can’t you, pretty girl?”

And Clark—sweet, gentle Clark—whimpers through it all. Apologizing even as he holds you tighter, begging, “Let me put a baby in you, please—just need to—can’t stop—need you so bad.”

[ameri-blog]

HOW TO GIVE HEAD 101 | jason todd x reader

DC COMICS MASTERLIST | WARNINGS: blowjobs (male receiving oral sex), sexual themes.

Do not repost, translate, or rewrite my work (AI generated or otherwise) without my permission. @mintyys-blog

MINORS DNI

You and Jason lounged lazily on the couch, half-watching a movie, half just basking in each other’s company. You two had been friends forever — the kind of effortless bond built from late nights, too many shared secrets, and just enough mutual bad decisions to trust each other with anything.

You were playing with the hem of your hoodie, mind racing, heart hammering a little faster than you liked. Finally, you blurted out, “There’s this guy I like.”

Jason turned his head lazily toward you, one eyebrow quirked. “Oh yeah? What’s he like?”

You shrugged, a little embarrassed. “He’s… experienced. Like, really experienced.” You avoided Jason’s eyes, choosing instead to pick at a loose thread. “And we’ve been talking, a lot. It’s getting… flirty.”

Jason smirked knowingly, but said nothing.

You swallowed. “The thing is… he really likes—” you lowered your voice, like the apartment walls had suddenly become sentient, “—blow jobs. Like, a lot. And I’m not… super confident about that kind of thing.”

Jason’s expression stayed easy, but there was a flicker of amusement in his blue eyes. You pressed on, cheeks burning.

“I just… I don’t wanna disappoint him, you know?” You fiddled harder with your sleeve. Then, almost too quietly to hear, you added, “So… I was kinda thinking… maybe…”

You turned your head slowly toward Jason, giving him your best wide-eyed, innocent look.

He stared at you blankly for a long beat. Then, deadpan: “Are you asking to suck my dick for experience to impress another guy?”

You grimaced, embarrassed, but forced yourself to nod. “Well… when you say it like that—”

Jason huffed a short laugh, tossing his head back against the couch. Then he looked at you again, more serious this time, something a little more careful in his gaze. “Go ahead,” he said, voice low, a smirk tugging at his lips. Your eyes widened. “Really?”

A grin broke out on your face — you couldn’t even help it — excitement and nerves mixing together in a way that made you buzz. “Yeah,” Jason shrugged, casual, but you could tell he was fighting a real smile. “I wouldn’t mind teaching you. First step, you already got down: sound excited — not like it’s a chore.”

You nodded quickly, trying to tamp down the giddy flutter in your chest. “Should I, uh… take notes or something?”

Jason let out a low chuckle and leaned back, spreading his arms across the back of the couch, legs parted just enough to be cocky without trying. “Nah, baby,” he said smoothly, “you’ll have to learn from some hands-on training.”

Your heart thudded so hard you were sure he could hear it. Hands-on training. With Jason. This night was about to get a lot more interesting.

You shifted nervously onto the floor, settling between Jason’s spread legs, your knees pressing into the carpet. You looked up at him, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nerves twisting in your stomach.

Jason rested his arms lazily on the couch behind him, watching you with that same amused, half-lidded look. His voice was calm when he spoke, almost soothing.

“Alright, first thing you gotta understand…” he started, letting his legs spread a little wider, making room for you. “A blow job isn’t just about your mouth. It’s about enthusiasm. Pressure. Rhythm. How much you’re into it.”

You swallowed hard, nodding. Your hands rested awkwardly on your thighs, waiting for him to tell you what to do.

He smiled faintly, noticing. “Relax, babe. You’re not gonna hurt me.” He leaned forward slightly. “Start by using your hands first. Tease me a little. Get me hard. It’s not a race.”

You nodded again, hands a little shaky as you reached up and started fumbling with his belt. Jason chuckled low in his throat, reaching down to help you, fingers brushing yours as he undid it and let his jeans hang loose.

“Here.” His voice had dropped a little. “Go slow. Just… touch me. Light at first.”

You swallowed and slipped your hand inside his boxers, fingers grazing against warm skin. Jason sucked in a breath through his teeth, but didn’t rush you.

“Good… now, see, the first few seconds?” he said, tone lazy like he was explaining a game. “It’s about building it up. Light touches, kisses. Make it feel like you’re teasing the hell out of me before you even get serious.”

You blinked up at him again. “Kisses?”

“Yeah.” Jason smirked. “Like you’d kiss someone you really wanted. Start slow. Right at the tip.”

Your face burned hotter, but you leaned in, lips brushing just barely over him. Jason’s breath hitched — barely, but enough that you caught it — and your confidence grew just a little.

“There you go…” he murmured. “See? Already getting the idea.”

You placed another soft kiss, then another, feeling him twitch a little in your hand. Your mouth moved gently over him, just like he said.

Jason leaned his head back against the couch, watching you through half-closed eyes. His voice stayed calm, but rougher now.

“Now… flatten your tongue. Lick up the underside real slow. That spot’s sensitive as hell.”

You obeyed, sliding your tongue along the underside like he said, feeling him grow harder against your hand. His hand twitched like he wanted to touch you, to guide you, but he kept it at the back of the couch, letting you figure it out.

A low groan rumbled from his chest. “Fuck… you’re a quick learner, babe.”

You smiled a little against him, feeling bold now. Jason’s hips shifted just slightly forward, encouraging without saying a word.

“Now… open your mouth. Take just the tip in. Easy,” he coached, voice low and gravelly. “Don’t rush. Use your tongue while you’re sucking, swirl it a little.”

You did as he asked, easing him into your mouth, feeling the weight of him on your tongue. You swirled like he said, cheeks hollowing a little as you sucked carefully, listening to every sound he made, every little twitch of his body.

Jason groaned again, this time not bothering to hide it. His hand finally slid off the back of the couch, fingers brushing lightly through your hair.

“Shit… you’re gonna kill him if you do it like this,” he muttered, his voice thick with lust. “You’re already better than half the girls I’ve been with.”

You pulled back slightly, a little shy at the praise, and Jason laughed breathlessly, thumb brushing lightly over your cheek.

“Don’t stop now, baby,” he murmured. “Lesson’s just getting started.”

You swallowed and leaned back in, lips wrapping around him again, feeling a thrill at how Jason’s body tensed beneath you. His hand stayed light in your hair, barely guiding — just a reassuring presence.

“Good girl…” he rasped, the words slipping out before he could catch them. You flushed at the praise, heart thudding harder.

Jason gave a low chuckle at your reaction, voice rough but still patient.

“Alright. Now use your hand too. Grip the base — yeah, like that. Twist your wrist a little while you move your mouth. Not too tight, just enough to keep the pressure steady.”

You tried it, sliding your hand along the length of him while your mouth worked the tip, feeling him throb under your touch. His breath caught, fingers flexing slightly in your hair.

“Shit, babe, yeah…” he muttered, letting his eyes close for a second before forcing them open again. He wanted to watch you — needed to.

You hollowed your cheeks a little more, moving your mouth and hand together like he said. Jason let out a low, broken groan, hips twitching slightly.

“You’re killing me here, you know that?” he gritted out, voice hoarse. “The way you’re looking up at me, all eager and pretty… fuck.”

You whimpered a little around him, and Jason cursed again under his breath. His thumb brushed your jaw, gently wiping a bit of spit away.

“Alright, next part,” he said, clearing his throat like he needed to get control back. His hand tightened slightly in your hair, but not enough to hurt — just enough to make you focus.

“Breathe through your nose. Try to take me deeper, a little at a time. You don’t have to force it — just let your throat open. If it gets too much, pull back. No shame in it.”

You nodded, determined, and slowly eased your mouth lower. Jason sucked in a sharp breath, the sound raw in the quiet room. You felt him bump the back of your throat and instinctively gagged a little, pulling back immediately.

Jason chuckled low, rubbing your scalp gently.

“That’s normal. Took me a while to get a girl to even try that.” His voice was warm, almost proud. “You’re doing better than you think.”

You tried again, taking him slower, relaxing your throat just like he said. This time you managed to take him a little deeper without gagging right away. Jason’s hips shifted again, this time clearly fighting the urge to thrust deeper into your mouth.

“Jesus, Y/N…” he groaned. His hand gripped your hair more firmly, guiding your pace now — a slow, steady rhythm.

“Fuck, that’s it. Nice and slow. Let me feel your mouth, your tongue, all of it…” His voice was rough, almost shaking.

You felt yourself getting warm all over, your own thighs pressing together as you listened to him fall apart above you. It was addicting — the power of it, the trust he gave you, the way he praised you like you were already the best he’d ever had.

Jason’s breathing was ragged now, a deep flush creeping up his throat.

“Start stroking with your hand at the same time, baby. Mouth and hand together.” His instructions were getting choppier, like it was getting harder for him to think straight.

You followed, hand twisting at the base while you bobbed your head in slow, steady movements, feeling him twitch and pulse inside your mouth.

“F-fuck…” Jason hissed. “If you do that to the guy you like, he’s gonna fall in love on the spot.”

You smiled a little around him, pride blooming in your chest.

Jason’s other hand gripped the couch cushion like he needed to anchor himself, hips twitching again, almost involuntarily.

“You wanna really drive a guy crazy?” he gritted out. “Look up at him while you’re doing it. Let him see how much you love it.”

You glanced up through your lashes, cheeks flushed, mouth full of him — and Jason’s head dropped back against the couch with a broken growl.

“Goddamn it, Y/N…” he groaned, voice wrecked. “You’re too good at this.”

Jason’s breathing was ragged now, every muscle in his body drawn tight. His hand was firm in your hair, but not harsh — grounding you there, keeping you moving at the pace he wanted.

You kept your eyes locked on his, cheeks hollowed around him, hand sliding up and down the base just like he taught you.

“Fuck… Y/N,” he groaned again, head tipping back, veins standing out along his throat. “You’re gonna make me lose it if you keep looking at me like that…”

Your stomach fluttered at the broken edge in his voice. It didn’t sound like he was coaching anymore. It sounded real — desperate.

His fingers tightened just a little more, forcing your mouth to take him a little deeper with each slow thrust of his hips.

“Little more, baby,” he muttered, voice rough and coaxing. “Open your throat, breathe through your nose, yeah? You can do it.”

You nodded as much as you could, letting him guide your rhythm — his hips rocking up slowly into your mouth, pulling back just enough not to overwhelm you. Every slow thrust made your throat burn a little more, but the raw sounds coming out of him made you want to keep going.

Jason’s hand left the couch and grabbed your jaw, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth where spit was starting to drip down your chin.

“So fuckin’ pretty like this,” he growled under his breath. “Such a good girl… letting me teach you.”

Your thighs squeezed together instinctively at the praise. You were supposed to be learning for another guy — but right now, all you could think about was Jason, the way he sounded, the way he looked at you like he wanted to tear you apart and worship you at the same time.

“Move your hand a little faster,” he ordered, voice dark, strained. “Keep your mouth tight around me, fuck—”

You obeyed, hollowing your cheeks again, and Jason let out a broken, guttural moan that sounded like he was barely holding himself together.

“Fuck, Y/N… if you don’t stop, I’m gonna—” He cut himself off, jaw clenching.

You whimpered a little around him, swirling your tongue just like he taught you, determined to see it through. The tension in him snapped — his hips jerked up once, hard, and his grip tightened on your hair as he spilled into your mouth with a strangled groan.

You gasped around him, swallowing instinctively because you didn’t know what else to do — Jason’s whole body was shaking, his head dropped back against the couch, chest heaving.

For a second, the only sound was his ragged breathing, the hum of the city outside the window.

Finally, Jason looked down at you — pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed, chest still rising and falling fast.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, a slow grin curling his lips. “You’re dangerous, baby girl.”

You wiped your mouth shyly, heart hammering, unsure what to say. Part of you still couldn’t believe you actually did that.

Jason reached out, tugging you gently up by the arms until you were straddling his lap, his jeans pushed halfway down his hips. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, his touch unexpectedly soft.

“You still wanna impress that other guy?” he asked, voice low, thumb stroking your jaw.

You blinked at him, mouth parting slightly.

“I…” you hesitated. Your heart twisted, because the way he was looking at you now — like you were the only girl in the world — made you forget why you wanted to impress anyone else to begin with.

Jason chuckled quietly, pressing his forehead lightly against yours.

“Thought so,” he murmured, his breath warm against your lips. “You don’t need anyone else, Y/N. Not when you already got me.”

Jason’s hand was just sliding up your thigh, his mouth brushing along your neck, when you stiffened slightly beneath him. He immediately pulled back, concern flashing across his face. “What’s wrong, doll?” he asked, voice low and careful.

You pressed a hand against his chest, chewing your bottom lip anxiously. “Jay… don’t get me wrong— I do like you, you’re amazing. But… I also really like this other guy, and…”

Jason leaned back the second you said it, smiling a little, though you could see the flash of disappointment he tried to hide.

“It’s okay, doll,” he said easily, lifting you gently off his lap and setting you next to him on the couch. “I get it.”

You grabbed the nearest pillow, hugging it against your chest, guilt washing over you. “I’m sorry if I led you on—” you started, but Jason just laughed, shaking his head.

“You didn’t lead me on. Trust me,” he said, voice warm and teasing. “And anyway, it’s fine. I’m not gonna get butt hurt just because you like some other guy.” He gave you a playful nudge with his shoulder. “Say… what’s his name?”

You brightened immediately, eager to tell him. “Oh! His name is Dick Grayson!”

Jason had just taken a sip of his beer — and immediately choked, spraying it across the room. You panicked, rushing to his side and thumping his back. “Jason! Oh my god, are you okay??” you cried, worried as he coughed and tried to wave you off.

He nodded, clearing his throat with a rough laugh. “Yeah… yeah, I’m fine,” he said, voice hoarse. Then he smirked at you — a sly, almost wicked little look.

You didn’t catch it. You were too busy fretting over him. Jason reached out, ruffling your hair affectionately, and said, “Don’t worry, doll. Just do what you did tonight, and he’ll love it.”

You smiled wide, relief and excitement lighting up your whole face. “Thanks, Jason.”

He leaned back against the couch, tossing an arm around your shoulders in an easy, protective way. “Anytime, sweetheart,” he murmured, still grinning to himself — because you had no idea Dick Grayson was Jason’s older, adoptive brother. And Jason? He couldn’t wait to see how that was gonna play out.

Later that night, after you left — practically skipping with excitement about your crush — Jason was still stretched out on the couch, grinning at the ceiling like a man who just watched fate set a bomb and walk away whistling.

He grabbed his phone off the coffee table, thumbing through his contacts until he found the one labeled:

“Asshole #1”

He smirked and typed quickly:

Jason:

bro… we gotta talk.

it’s about you. and it’s hilarious.

He barely had time to set the phone down before it buzzed angrily.

Dick:

?? what did i do now?

i’m literally just eating cereal rn wtf

Jason barked out a short laugh and leaned back, picturing the look on Dick’s face when he found out who had been practicing just for him tonight.

He tapped another reply:

Jason:

nothing yet. just… be nice when a pretty little thing gets brave enough to flirt with you soon.

she’s special. don’t be a dick, dick.

There was a pause. Then:

Dick:

???

who the hell are you talking about???

JASON ANSWER ME

Jason laughed so hard he nearly dropped the phone. He thought about telling him the full truth — that you, sweet, bright-eyed you, had just spent the evening on your knees for him practicing — but he decided to let it simmer a little longer.

Wouldn’t hurt to make Grayson sweat.

He threw his phone onto the couch and muttered to himself with a grin, “Man… this is gonna be good.” And for the first time in a long time, Jason Todd felt like he had something to look forward to.

It all happened faster than you thought it would.

One minute, you were sitting next to Dick Grayson at a Titans gathering, both of you laughing over something stupid. The next, you were alone together in his room, your heart hammering so loud you could barely hear yourself think.

When you dropped to your knees in front of him — cheeks burning, nerves twisting in your gut — he barely had time to react before your hands were on his belt.

“Y/N—” he started, but the second your mouth wrapped around him, all coherent thought seemed to leave his brain.

He hissed through his teeth, one hand flying to the back of your head automatically — but not pushing, just gripping at your hair like he needed something to hold onto.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he groaned, voice cracking, hips jerking slightly against your mouth. You took him deep, hollowing your cheeks exactly how Jason had taught you, keeping your hand at the base and twisting gently as you moved — slow, purposeful, confident.

Dick almost blacked out.

It wasn’t just good — it was skilled. Way too skilled for someone who, from what he remembered, had said she was “still learning.”

He forced his eyes open, looking down at you — and that’s when the first little seed of suspicion planted itself.

Something about the way you worked him over — the way you squeezed at the base, the way you bobbed your head in rhythm, your tongue teasing just right at the tip — it wasn’t just natural talent. It was training.

You finally pulled off, blinking up at him innocently, a little bit of spit trailing down your chin.

He sucked in a ragged breath, trying to get a grip on himself. “Holy shit, Y/N,” he muttered, wiping his thumb gently across your lips. “That was— I mean, where did you learn to do that?”

You flushed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand shyly. “I mean… I practiced? Once. Before tonight.” You smiled nervously. “I told you I didn’t have a lot of experience… but I wanted to impress you, so…”

Dick’s brows furrowed slightly. “Practiced… with who?” he asked, trying to sound casual — but his voice cracked halfway through.

You shrugged, fidgeting. “Oh— um. Just… my friend Jason helped me.”

Silence. Utter, horrified silence. Dick’s whole face froze — eyes wide, mouth slightly open — like his soul physically left his body for a moment.

“Jason,” he repeated, voice tight.

“Yeah,” you nodded brightly, oblivious to the internal meltdown happening inside him. “He’s really good at explaining stuff. Super patient.”

Dick scrubbed a hand down his face, groaning. “Oh my god,” he muttered under his breath.

He wasn’t mad — not really. He couldn’t be. You didn’t know the full story — you didn’t realize you had literally just given him a blowjob with Jason Todd’s signature techniques. Techniques Dick had, unfortunately, recognized mid-orgasm.

He exhaled sharply, still trying to wrap his head around it.

“Okay,” he said, voice strangled but still kind. He reached down, pulling you into his lap carefully. “Okay. We’re gonna… just… move past that for now.”

You smiled shyly and snuggled against his chest, thinking he was embarrassed because he liked it so much.

Later that night, Dick was stalking down the hall like a man possessed, trying to find Jason. His face was flushed, his hair a mess, and he looked like he’d just been run over by a truck.

(Which, in a way, he kind of had.)

He found Jason exactly where he expected — in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, sipping a beer like he had all the time in the world.

Jason clocked him immediately, eyes glinting with mischief.

“Well, well, well,” Jason drawled, setting his beer down and crossing his arms. “Look who survived his special tutoring session.”

Dick stopped a few feet away, running a hand down his face in pure agony. “You’re a dick, you know that?” he groaned.

Jason barked out a laugh. “Me? I’m the dick?” He pointed at himself, grinning ear to ear. “I’m not the one who got the full Jason Todd patented blowjob experience without even asking.”

Dick made a strangled sound in his throat, visibly dying inside. “You taught her,” he hissed under his breath, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one else was nearby. “You taught her how to— to—”

“—to suck your soul out through your dick?” Jason finished helpfully, smiling so wide it should’ve been illegal. “You’re welcome.”

Dick was halfway between throttling him and bursting into laughter. “Dude, she’s so innocent,” he said, flailing his hands helplessly. “She has no idea— she just— trusted you!”

Jason shrugged, completely unbothered. “Hey, I was a perfect gentleman about it.” He took another sip of his beer, smirking behind the bottle. “She asked for help. I provided a public service.”

Dick pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, groaning. “This is so messed up.”

Jason clapped him on the shoulder, nearly sending him stumbling forward.

“Look at it this way, Big Brother—” Jason said with a teasing grin. “At least you got the rewards without doing any of the work.”

Dick glared at him murderously — but he didn’t argue. Because— God help him… Jason wasn’t wrong.

You padded into the kitchen, still floating on a little high from earlier, only to freeze in the doorway. There stood Jason, casually leaning against the counter — and Dick Grayson, standing stiff as a board like he was caught hiding a dead body.

You blinked, shocked. “Jay! Hi—uh, what are you doing at the Tower?”

Before you could spiral into awkwardness, Jason’s grin stretched wider. He pushed off the counter and pulled you into an easy hug, ruffling your hair affectionately.

Dick just stood there behind him, looking like he was silently begging the universe to strike him dead.

Jason hugged you tight, smirking directly at Dick over your shoulder. “Oh, you know,” Jason said casually, voice dripping with amusement. “Just visiting family.”

You pulled away, frowning slightly. “Family? I thought you said you were adopted?”

Jason chuckled, like he was just remembering a silly little thing he forgot to mention. “Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck like it was no big deal. “Well, funny thing… turns out I kinda forgot to tell you—Dick and I are brothers.”

You stared at him. Then at Dick. Then back at him. The realization hit you like a brick wall. Your face drained of color. Your jaw dropped. “Oh… oh no,” you breathed, stepping back in horror.

Jason just beamed, the most evil, smug, entertained older brother you could ever imagine. Dick, on the other hand, looked like he was about two seconds away from throwing himself out the window.

You covered your mouth, mortified. “I gave head to your—your—!!” you squeaked, unable to even finish the sentence.

Jason patted your head like you were a confused puppy. “Relax, dollface,” he said, winking shamelessly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Actually…” He cocked his head at Dick with a shit-eating grin. “You made my brother a very happy man tonight.”

“JASON!” Dick barked, red-faced, but Jason was already moving toward the door, laughing under his breath.

Before he left the kitchen, he turned back, tossed you a wink so quick Dick didn’t catch it — and said, “Good job, sweetheart. Proud of you.”

And with that, he disappeared down the hallway, whistling innocently.

You stood there frozen, absolutely mortified. Dick dragged a hand down his face, groaning like his soul had physically left his body.

“Well,” you mumbled, cheeks burning hotter than the sun, “at least now I know why it felt like he was weirdly good at teaching…” Dick just let out a helpless little noise of pain, looking at you like he had no idea whether to laugh or cry.

Later that night, Dick lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling like a man at war with his soul. He had been tossing and turning for an hour, replaying every agonizing second from earlier — your mortified face, Jason’s shit-eating grin, the way Jason had said “proud of you” like he was handing out a damn scouting badge—

His phone buzzed on the nightstand. He groaned, rolling over to check it, praying it wasn’t who he thought it was. It was.

Jason Todd:

Hey big bro.

How’s my favorite little student?

Dick glared at the screen, feeling his blood pressure spike.

Before he could even respond, another text came in:

Jason Todd:

Did she use the twist?

Be honest.

Dick threw the phone onto the bed like it had personally insulted him, running both hands through his hair. “damn it, Jason,” he muttered, pacing the room.

The phone buzzed again.

Jason Todd:

You can thank me later.

Or name your first kid after me.

Your call.

Dick actually let out a strangled, painful laugh — half from genuine amusement, half from the soul-crushing secondhand embarrassment that was now his permanent companion.

He snatched the phone back up, thumbs flying across the screen.

Dick Grayson:

I’m going to kill you.

Slowly.

A second later:

Jason Todd:

You’re welcome.

<3

Dick groaned again, collapsing face-first onto the mattress. This was his life now.