nappycherub

[nappycherub]

Asking Toji to take your virginity was probably a mistake.

Everybody you knew and that knew Toji told you it’d be a mistake, especially since you knew you wanted your first time to be memorable, but now you’re just beginning to believe that maybe you’ll never find the one, but the urges of having sex have made you relentless.

Granted…all the other close guy friends you had was already in a relationship and Toji was pretty much the last of your choosing, but you didn’t care anymore.

You wanted to experience your first orgasm from penetration.

You wanted sex.

You wanted to feel what it’s like to cum undone from a man.

Gojo said you’d regret it.

Geto said you should keep looking.

Even Shiu tried hooking you up with somebody else. Was Toji THAT BAD??

They were wrong though.

“You sure?….You wanna have sex?”

The years you’ve known Toji he never sounded so…hesitant. Maybe you weren’t his type—-

“I mean shit I have thought about fucking you a few times but…”

Okay maybe not that.

When you explain to him how you just wanted to rid of your virginity he actually tried to convince you to reconsider.

Not, because he didn’t want you, but he believed you deserved a better candidate for your first time. Though, you could see by his actions deep down he really wanted to take it.

He tells you how scummy some men can be with virgins, how rough they are.

Yet his lips trailed down your neck so softly it felt as if a ghost kissed you. His scar just grazing against your skin, giving it a little texture.

Toji mentions how most men are creeps that hunt for virgins to ruin, to slut out, and break their hearts afterwards.

Yet he takes it slow when it came to taking off your clothing, kissing each piece of exposed skin from your shoulders, to your cheeks, to the valley of your breast, your hips, your tummy, your arms. Everywhere.

He tells you how you should be with a man that wants to worship your body, make your first time memorable. Sweet, fun.

Yet here he is, landing a few light hearted jokes to lighten the mood when you felt yourself close in and nervous, your naked body out and exposed for his sharp green eyes to see only. He was the first man to ever see the way your nipples hardened when he cupped the bottom of your breast. His calloused thumb rubbing over your cute nub before attaching his lips around it. His mouth was surprisingly cold.

He was the first man to make you whimper so pathetically, making you realize how sensitive you were. Toji found it so cute. So sexy. He was eager to teach you anything you wanted.

Your voice was so loud and whiney to Toji, and that wasn’t an insult either, no fucking way you actually was his new favorite noise to listen to. The way his name dragged off your toji, so syrupy sweet and slutty, as he ate your pussy, he began to groan inside you while pressing down on your lower tummy.

“To—-ji!” You hiccuped, body squirming to move away from his mouth, but he was obviously much stronger than you, he felt your cunt flutter around his tongue, the pulse on your clit beating bashfully against his lips he attached them to suckle and shake his head a little, maybe you will squirt on his fingers for the first time?

“Toji! Toji! Toji!” Your hips moved with each cry of his name up and down and Toji’s mouth followed it not letting go like a beast that finally caught its prey, “Close! Clo—!”

You just kept babbling, the bottom of your tummy was tight and knotted, he kept pressing on your bladder which in turn made you cry in pleasure and panic, but Toji looked at your fucked out face and smiled, his middle and ring finger scissoring you until your body spoke for itself and realized such a mess on his face and hands,

Covering your face, he snatched away your hands to kiss you, but it wasn’t just a hungry capture of the lips, it was deliberate. Passionate…..romantic almost? He swallowed your gentle whimpers while he helped you ride out your orgasm on his thumb,

“You’re beautiful.”

It was all he said to make you snap out of your daze and feel your chest warm. He don’t know why he said it, maybe you won’t think too much of it.

When you mentioned you always wanted to learn how to do a blowjob , he didn’t let you. Not tonight, Toji for the first time in a long time wanted to focus on your pleasure.

“Okay….can next time you teach me?”

He smirks, leaving your question in the air as his lips kept exploring new parts of your body, because the thought of you both having a next time seemed unrealistic, after this you will probably end up finding another man.

Even if in the back of his mind he might not want you to.

Toji was overbearing, his figure at least 4 times bigger than yours he hovered over you and practically covered your entire body, his silver chain dangling in between the small gap, that he eventually closes to kiss you again, distracting you from his cock head prodding at the entrance of your so sensitive and indescribably wet pussy.

You press against his lips harder, his free hand cupping the back of your head when hes only 4 inches deep inside you and you already feel so full.

“Look at me.” His voice choked out a breathy laugh above you, “Just relax, okay? Breathe. Inhale.”

You did so and mimicked him, “Exhale.”

When you did he used the moment to fully bottom out inside you, the skin on his back now torn by your nails, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle, he stilled inside you, peppering your face with kisses before asking you if he could move, when you gave the green light it wasn’t long before you felt trickles of warm blood and his precum oozing out of your cunt to falter a mess between you both.

You were such a good girl for him and he reminded you with every stroke, Toji wasn’t really a words of affirmation kinda guy, but he was drunk off you as much as you were of him so he really couldn’t shut up.

Before this evening ended with a sweaty, hot mess, and you sleep in his arms, Toji could’ve sworn you’ll never have a moment like this with each other again, but now he’s reconsidering.

Just for a moment though.

[nappycherub]

for @kurroomii <3 | event masterpost

you notice it when he’s reaching for his drink — arms outstretched, shirt discarded somewhere in the sand.

“wait,” you say, sitting up on your towel. “what is that.”

kuroo looks down at himself, then blinks. there, just under his ribs, is a soft pale shape. the rest of his skin’s gone golden from the sun, but right in the middle—oval, ridged edges, unmistakably seashell-shaped—is a perfect little mark.

he snorts. “oh. huh.”

“you fell asleep with a seashell on your stomach?”

“apparently.” he grabs his glass and takes a sip of the vanilla and peach mojito you’d ordered earlier, half-melted ice clinking gently against the rim. “could’ve been worse. could’ve been a crab.”

you laugh, flopping back down. “you’re going to be walking around with that thing for a week.”

“good.” he shifts closer, leans over you on one elbow. “means i’ve got you with me even when you’re not around.”

you squint up at him. “because of a tan line?”

he shrugs, grinning. “symbolism, baby.”

you shake your head, but your smile gives you away. he leans down, presses a kiss just beside your cheek, his skin still warm from the sun.

“besides,” he adds, voice lower, “you’re the one who gave me the drink, set up the umbrella, and picked the playlist. you're the reason i was knocked out cold under the sound of the waves. it was a good nap.”

you hum. “still ridiculous.”

“romantic,” he corrects. “ridiculously romantic.”

the wind shifts. the sun keeps burning steady above you both. and somewhere in the sand is a little shell that’s officially made its mark.

© everything here is written with care — please don’t repost, copy, or alter my work without permission.

[nappycherub]

Bed side drawer - Peter Parker

summary: when Tony finds a box of condoms in Peter's bed side drawer, he doesn't expect Peter's girlfriend to walk into the room, causing an awkward interaction. a/n: my toxic trait is that i always imagine tasm!peter even tho it's in the avengers universe 0.6k wc

When Peter walks into his bedroom, the first thing his eyes lay on is the box of condoms in his mentor's hand. Tony Stark smirks from where he sits on his mentee's bed, drinking the cup of coffee Aunt May had so graciously prepared him. Peter's eyes go wide, flickering between his open bed side drawer and his mentor, and he dives across the room to get the box from him. Peter nearly hits his head against the wall when Tony tosses the box in the air, catching it in his hand when it falls down again. Peter's face flushes red as he scrambles back up, straightening his bed sheets where he haphazardly landed on them, mouth gaping open. Peter can hear you laughing with his Aunt May in the living room about another one of May's stories. She always had to tell you about the stories of how smitten he was with you, an attempt for your relationship to last forever. He needs to get that box before you walk in because that was not the situation he imagined you'd meet Mr. Stark in. He refused to let it happen.

Peter tilts his head to the side with desperate eyes, begging "Please give me those Mr. Stark." Tony grins teasingly, saying "You know these only work when there are two people involved, right?" Peter doesn't have time to react before the door to his room opens again and you walk in, saying something about the story Aunt May had told you before your eyes land on the older man in the room, prompting you to go silent. Oh no, Peter thinks. Tony quickly's eyes quickly scan you where you awkwardly stand in the doorway, and the obvious mortification that settles on your face at the realisation of who he is.

"Oh."

"Oh." Tony's tone is suggestive, and completely different from yours. He stands up from Peter's bed, slowly making his way across the room to you. His eyes flicker between you and Peter, the box of condoms still in his hands as you shoot a hand out in front of you, smiling nervously and saying "Hi, I'm y/n." in a lowsy attempt to ignore the box laying in the man's hand, eyes glancing down to it a couple of times. Tony shakes your hand, introducing himself, before asking "And who might you be y/n?" Gulping, you glance between your boyfriend, whose face has flushed a dark shade of red, and the avenger standing in front of you. "I'm Peter's girlfriend." You state, eyes widening as Tony puts the box of condoms in your hand.

"There are two people involved then..." You hear him mutter under his breath, but it's nothing as embarrassing as Aunt May walking into the busy room and observing the situation, attention immediately caught by the box of condoms that you throw at your boyfriend in a panic. The box hits Peter's chest and falls on the floor, and neither of you make a move to pick it up whilst you smile awkwardly at May, who follows Tony out of the room. You huff when they walk out, turning around to dig your head into Peter's chest in humiliation. Your boyfriend hugs you close, rubbing a hand on your back, and he's happy you can't hear Tony say "That girl seems too sweet to be having sex with your nephew." or his Aunt May's scoff of "Yeah until you come back home after a night with your friends and hear everything through those walls. She really knows how to talk dirty."

[nappycherub]

────୨ৎ────

I love very casual dominance. It’s always the smallest things, too. It’s one thing to be intentionally dominate in bed, but when they’re doing it out of pure instinct it’s almost sexier. They don’t even realize how attractive it is. Like today, for whatever reason you’re nervous and it’s obvious if not by the way your leg is shaking under the coffee table. And as always, he’s found his spot besides you- maybe his hair is messy because it’s early and you’ve slept in. He nurses a hot black coffee with one hand, and he may tell you twice to stop bouncing your leg but you won’t hear it a third time. He won’t even look away from whatever’s got his attention before you feel the pressure of his hand on your knee. Pressing down until your knee can no longer bounce back up, his grip almost bruising. But his thumb moves to rubs gentle circles on the area, a silent apology.

Other times, yeah, it does show up in bed. Like when he’s hitting that spot so good, too good, that you stop breathing for a few seconds. He’s literally taken your breath away, folded you in half and he’s nasty with it. You don’t even realize it’s happening but he’s so in tune with your body that he picks up on every little thing. He won’t stop his movements either, still feeding you deep strokes, hand behind your head to soften the blow of the headboard. And when he notices, he’ll place his hand on your cheek so gently - a stark contrast to how he’s fucking you- and say, “Breathe, baby.”

────୨ৎ────

[nappycherub]

best friend’s brother kuroo

kuroo didn’t know how he ended up on his bed with you between his legs. it was just supposed to be his sister’s pool party for her birthday.

it was you… your fault. your stupid navy bikini that was too tight. maybe it was the way the sun glistened off of your skin. or the water dripping off of you?

he didn’t know. all that he knew was the fact that you were in his room. it was dimly lit from his lava lamp. you kiss his leaking tip as your boobs work up and down his cock.

he whines as he stares down at you, “f—fuck.. i can’t,” he whimpers. you giggle softly, “i got you.. you wanted this. staring at my boobs like you always do. what? you wanna sniff my bikini bottoms too?” you fake pout.

he shakes his head, “oh my gosh… i— shit.” he curses over and over again. you take his cock from in between your boobs, pumping it up and down. your french tips decorating it.

“such a big dick… perfect for a big guy, huh?” you smile. your smile felt shameful in this moment for him, why did it though? he looks at photos of you on your instagram… late nights of his hand cramping up because of how much he jerked off.

you slap his cock on your warm cheek before putting it in your warm mouth. he groans softly.

he still heard the music outside. the laughter near the pool. partynextdoor played in the large speakers, almost like they knew you two were sneaking off.

you bob your head up and down, your spit dripping down your chin. he licks his lips at the sight of you. messy. your back arched deep as your nipples stayed hard.

“so beautiful,” he mutters. his hand finding your hair and tugging on it.

it was soon after and you kissed him like he didn’t just cum in your mouth, some on your face. he watches as you walk back out.

you switched into some jean shorts so he can keep your swim bottoms. he shakes his head as he stares down at them. you were just as perverted as he was.

[nappycherub]

⚝ DAY 9 — HE'S A VIRGIN

kinktober 2024. — masterlist | ao3

— including. — diluc, capitano, xiao, alhaitham

— warnings. — fem! reader, virgin genshin men, inexperienced af, pussy drunk, established relationship, they're kinda whiny

⚝ — DILUC

diluc's desire to feel you for the first time became a confession, touched by a form of surrender— you see, he wasn't simply aroused— no, he was devastated by wanting, exiled from himself by the unbearable mercy of being allowed to want at all and now, wow, as you laid on top of him with his dick tightly pressed between your soaked folds, his dreams of losing his virginity to you may finally come true.

"c-can i touch you there?" but he's nervous, very much so, and slightly embarrassed too, he asks it like a man asking for absolution, his voice a faltering ruin, each word shuddering out of him as if it were a sin to be spoken aloud, "here?" you coo back as you silently wiggle your hips against his erection while slanting down so your tits would squeeze against his exposed, glistening chest.

"y-yeah, fuuck— right there," his breath staggers in his chest, a rhythm broken and uneven, the shame of his own desire rolling through him like a sickness, and yet he wants, archons, he wants.

not with the wildness of instinct, but with the slow, torturous need of someone who has denied himself for too long— someone who thinks he might disintegrate if he were to feel your sopping cunt for the first time tonight, how you'd clench around him might make him lose his mind or if you were to tighten up and trap him in a torturous, yet equally delirious milking compression until you've sucked him dry of all he had.

you willfully grant diluc's wish as you let his tip in for the first time, to test the waters, yes, to see how he'd react the moment your wet heat would finally engulf his head in endless lust and love.

he’s never been touched like that before, not like this, not skin to skin, not soul to soul.

and now, he's got his dick halfway in like a temptation draped in warmth, the presence of your walls melting around him unbearable in its mercy as the nearness of your slippery warmth feels obscene, or, somewhat, divine.

perhaps even both.

you guide his hand to your hips as you move up and down up and down, your pussy squelching as he gasps out in realization— quiet, strangled— and when he finally makes contact with your sweet spots deep inside, something in him fractures.

not the lust that was exploding within him, something older, something buried, yet his eyes squeeze shut at last as his lips part with a sound that might be relief, or might be agony due to the fact that in all honesty— if it wasn't for his immense self control, he would've already emptied his seed into the deepest depths of your cunt.

you begin to ride him crueler, obscene sounds of wetness accentuating the room as diluc's face exposes the truth— and fuck, his angel face and thick dick made it impossible for you not to become simply flustered while looking at his slacked jaw— it’s a battlefield between restraint and longing, a map of a man quietly coming undone.

and it's your fault, your doing.

his lips were parted, soft and wet from breathing too hard as his throat works visibly when you ride him harder, greedier, grinding your pussy back and forth his pretty dick as your hands comfort his face, allowing him to melt into your touch.

he's slowly adjusting and becoming better at this, stealing a couple thrusts from you as he fucks into you like a madman, his brows drawing tight in a furrow of helplessness when he couldn't stop his hips from pounding into your pussy over and over— being entranced by how good you felt, how warm and wet and soft your pussy felt and fuck, please make this never stop, okay? you must promise diluc for it to never stop.

⚝ — CAPITANO

capitano wasn't a wordy man, nor was he showy man either— but the weight of him was unbearable, his memories and his past— and in the way he touches you, it's like he's memorizing ruin, "tell me if this is too much for you," you tease him while adjusting his cock head with your hole.

he towers above you wide and manly, with his breathing barely cutting through the air— it's low, raw, "you better tell me," and capitano responds with this not because he doubts your inability to tell him if he'd accidentally hurt you, rather because he does not trust himself.

not with the way you feel under him already, not with how tightly he's gripping the sheets beneath his gloves like they’re the only things keeping him from sinning even more. your legs are wrapped around his waist as you urge him to make him move inside with the heels of your feet digging into his back.

but the harbinger doesn't move, he hasn’t even touched you yet— not even your pretty tits which were so deliciously splayed out for him to play with, maybe fondle and even suckle on.

not yet, at least.

because you see, capitano waits, suffers, he sits in silence, body thrumming with a thousand restrained urges, every muscle in him coiling like a beast biting down on its own tongue as for the first time, his mask was off in front of another human— for once, it's off— and his face was a furnace with sweat trailing down his temples, sliding into the strong line of his jaw, vanishing into the shadows of his throat.

his lips were parted, breathing shallow, chest rising too fast when he finally moves himself inside, his eyes closed at the pleasure surging through his body, the tightness of your cunt squeezing him and fuck— you see it now, all of it in his eyes, and how they do not flicker, they devour.

he eats your soul and frame with his manliness— like you feel so good he can’t believe you’re actually real and that your pussy feels so soft and warm around his girthy cock and how easy it was for him to slip himself into your leaky hole, pushing through the tight constriction and even worse?

he’s allowed to look, touch and kiss you, fuck you the entire night, because you just trust him like that.

when his hips roll forward, just once, the low sounds he made were nearly silent— but you feel it, vibrating in your own chest as his hands twitched where they lied useless, heavy on the bed when he took your wrists to press his palms into your skin.

capitano clutches to you as he fucks you harder, his touch being impossibly gentle in clear contrast with his cock being undeniably ruthless on your cunt, moving his hips in a fast rhythm with yours as his chest grinds against your erected nipples. 

he lowers his head and presses his forehead to your sternum, his breathing hot and shaking— and when he finally speaks to you while being balls deep inside, it wasn't a plea, no, instead it was a confession carved out of his own ribs.

"i’ve dreamt of this," he admits bluntly, voice hoarse, almost ruined, "but not even my mind was cruel enough to make it feel like this." he groans out when you squeeze him tight and kiss his lips soft—and you feel his mouth against you fully now, lips trembling, as if even kissing you here was more than he deserved.

⚝ — XIAO

xiao wasn't comfortable with showing his need, more so was he terrified of softness between him and another person, no matter how long you two have been dating already— so when he lets himself feel it for the first time— when he asks, of course— it felt corrupting.

and still, he wanted it.

you could feel the tremble in him, in not just his limbs, but in the whole frame of his as the man was coming apart under the weight of your gentleness.

he touches your hips first, then slowly slides over your chest to cradle your tits like he doesn’t believe he’s actually allowed to do all of this— and by the way he worships you, it's like xiao believed your skin might vanish if he didn't fondle you enough.

"are you sure about this xiao?" the question wasn't bold nor pleading, you didn't want to overstep any of his boundaries or make him uncomfortable with anything which was going on tonight.

he retorts back almost immediately, "are you sure?" and it slips from his mouth barely formed, half-crushed under the weight of shame— was he taking it too fast now? why was he suddenly so excited about it, even more than before.

truth was— sometimes when you weren't looking, he would imagine it, you know, whether he wanted to touch you, or to be touched by you, or simply to be allowed between your legs with his face squeezed beyond oblivion, all of it, maybe, all at once.

xiao's face was feverish with color— high, unnatural blotches of red across his pale skin, as though desire itself offended him, as though it’s a sickness he’s been taught to fear and when you lower your hand to palm his tip, his lips immediately part— wet with shallow breathing and a fine sheen of sweat collected at his temples, sliding in fragile lines down the slope of his throat.

you reach for his length as he flinches— not away, but inward, like the gesture hurts, like the touch was too intimate to survive, and still, he lets you guide him with your hand slowly stroking his cock while his tip hovers over your pussy and leaks of pre, smearing the white slick over your glossy hole.

he breathes your name, once, twice— once more, like it’s a sin and a salvation, yet his eyes remain closed, brows drawn in quiet agony and when his hips involuntarily move against your hole— just barely— his body jerks into you, overcome by the intimacy, by the unbearable knowledge that this was real.

that you are real, beneath him, within reach.

his jaw clenches and he looks at you inexperienced and dewy-eyed— shame and hunger woven together as you kiss along his jaw, telling him to please not stop and fuck, he doesn’t want to stop either, doesn't want this to end but he's so scared of hurting you that it was slowly occupying his mind and soul.

but with you, it was different because you gave him reassurance, with you this wasn't just touch— this was permission, and it's undoing him as he slides himself in, his thick erection being swallowed by your needy hole as the proximity of your pussy engulfs around his dick when he pushes himself in entirely.

"don't…" he whispers nervously as he hides his face in the nook of your neck, eyes still shut tight, voice almost voiceless, "i don’t know what to do with this," he admits and you feel his fingers tighten in your hair, "it's okay xiao aah—" you whine and caress his back;

"i trust you," and archons, he needs you so bad, fuck, he doesn’t even give a damn about how embarrassing he might look or sound right now but this— oh, baby, you shouldn't have said this because now, a lewd mewl rumbles from deep inside his chest when he completely rocks into you with a rough roll of his hips— turning your walls sticky with cum, your slick sticking on his pubes and the movements of his hips which practically screamed insatiable desire.

⚝ — ALHAITHAM

everything alhaitham did was calculated— except this.

"i should be… studying this instead," the words leave him before he could even breath properly— he's a little sharp-edged, half-ironic, mostly desperate, yeah, he's right under you too, propped on his elbows, shirt open at the throat, that brilliant, infuriating mind of his faltering under the weight of your body above his— and yet he tries to keep it, in control, that last thread of composure, fraying faster than he can pretend to hold it.

his eyes— usually so piercing, clinical— are glassy now, narrowed not in skepticism but in helpless focus, fixed somewhere between your lips and the movement of your hips above him, not to mention your pussy slobbering all over his desperately hard dick. he's never felt something like this before and fuck, the moment he did, he's greedy and high on your cunt, more so from sheer overstimulation of what you've been doing to him.

or maybe from thinking too much, too fast, about all the things he's never let himself want.

a bead of sweat trails from his temple down into his hairline, absorbed by already-damp strands as his hand lifts to feel up your beautiful body— hesitant, not because he doesn't know what he’s doing, but because you’re not an equation, you're not a text he can analyze and understand.

you're unpredictable, yes and archons, it terrifies him.

you feel his hands guide you up and down, forcing his dick deeper than before and pretending like he knows what he's doing as his breath stutters almost imperceptible— almost, as small rolls of hips rock into your cunt which were precise first, yes— clinical, also yes, as if trying to learn you by feel, you know? by pressure and reaction.

yet his precision collapses quickly when you watch his mouth fall open just slightly as you squeeze him agonizingly hard, watch the corner of his lips twitch like he's suppressing a groan, smirk deviously when his brows knit as the sensation of your sticky walls began to override his understanding.

"i don't know what this is doing to me, fuck," he mutters— not to you, not even to himself to be honest, just aloud.

his voice began to turn strained due to excessive groaning, foreign in his throat as his fingers dig into the bouncy flesh of your ass— just a bit harder now, helping you bounce up and down his large erection as he studies you like he's drowning in you.

and when you shift your weight down, just enough for him to feel the heat of you flush and align, you see it, the unraveling, the moment alhaitham's intellect gave out and something primal began to move behind his eyes.

he's so pretty, ugh, it's unfair! and his dick being pressed into you so fucking deliciously was a feeling you got addicted to now— one that had saliva dribble through the sides of your lips, one that had your eyes glazed over in love and clit aching in need to be played with too.

everything was written across his face now, the sweat shining in the hollow of his throat, the part of his lips, the way he looks at you as you ride him hard, the smell in the air potent with the scent of his musk and sweat and cum— yet ah, alhaitham looked at you like you were the experiment and the thesis and the collapse of meaning altogether.

and at last, he abandons the hypothesis entirely.

©2025 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[nappycherub]

Clark The Munch God

Masterlist  

Summary: Clark is King of munch. Superman is the god of munch.

Warnings: Adult Situations, 18+ only, Smut, oral fem receiving, swearing.

A/N: so I decided to write this little oneshot? Drabble? To make up for getting you all horny…

Taglist:  @emyearns​  @wendimydarling​ @angryschnauzer​  @killjoy-assbutt-1112​  @two-unbeatable-beaters​ @magdelen69​ @iloveyouyen​   @isitmine​ @tinabean37​  @agniavateira​   @wolfieash​ @eldarwen333​ @princesssterek​ @mom2000aggie​ @sofiebstar​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @thefangirlsblog​ @loserrlauraa​ @littlegirl1196​ @henrythickcavill​ @plainbrunettelbl​ @toomanyfandomsshreya​ @dummiesshort​ @cynic-spirit​ @pandaxnienke​ @libbymouse​

Keep reading

[nappycherub]

SAE BF HEADCANONS MNDI

boyfriend!Sae is the type to hold eye contact during everything. Like everything, talking, staring, eating (you) and even during mid matches.

boyfriend!Sae is the kinda guy to be into backshots.. OKAY LISTEN. He would be so into seeing your back, and the way your ass slaps into him. His eyes would stay there, I mean don’t get me wrong, he’s also the type to be like ‘have you ever tried this one?’ But mostly back shots <3

boyfriend!Sae would walk around the house with his choppy ass bangs but it’s cute.

boyfriend!Sae likes it when you disturb him while he’s working out but says it’s annoying. He would love it when you crawl under him while he’s doing push-ups.

boyfriend!Sae proudly wears your scratch marks on him like a medal. He wants others to see them while he’s in the locker room, he wants them to ask about it. He’s super nonchalant about it though.

©kettleinuse4now | please do not translate, repost, refer without permission | don’t steal and say it’s your own (ahole behavior)

[nappycherub]

Spider-man/Deadpool #69

[nappycherub]

Bite me.

[nappycherub]

They are banned from joining Spider Society

[nappycherub]

Some Spideypool yearning

26 pages of them being dump, dramatic, not able to control themselves and some web spinnerets lol

[nappycherub]

Third Insomniac Spider-man game (with Deadpool) be like

[nappycherub]

there was a misunderstanding when Jason came back to life but only bcs he decided that he didn’t want to deal with Bruce and all his shit right then so he made a turn on the way to Gotham and decided to start off small by reuniting with Dick in Bludhaven instead. work his way up.

issue is Dick’s been hallucinating Jason for the past 6 months. not even in a particularly sad way, just in a ‘my little brother mocks me from the corners of the room daily and i can’t even do anything about it bcs he’s DEAD’ way. every time he calls hallucination-Jason an asshole the little prick says ‘ok but you didn’t come to my funeral’ and there’s really no good response to that. so when ALIVE Jason shows up in his apartment and in an emotionally constipated attempt to soften the blow of ‘im not dead, surprise!’ decides to just act casual and brotherly without any big displays or anything, Dick… responds in kind.

Jason: oh thank fuck we’re on the same page. no need for crying or annoying long conversations we can just work on. getting used to being a family again. this is ideal.

Dick: hey the asshole hallucination grew up. my subconscious is getting really creative.

Jason stays at Dick’s place for the next few weeks and they both settle into a comfortable cohabitation in which one brother is really relieved that he can focus on calming the Lazarus rage and being a younger brother without any over-emotional displays he isn’t comfortable with, and the other does not know he is living with a real life other person. it’s honestly the most they’ve ever gotten along before.

the realisation only hits when Jason wakes Dick up at 3 in the morning because he couldn’t sleep and made bbq ribs and wanted to know if he wanted any, and Dick in his barely conscious state was like ‘fuck yeah, hallucination ribs i can TASTE!’ and then the next morning he wakes up with sticky fingers and sauce all over his sheets and the dishes they ate off cleaned and put back in the cupboard, and Dick makes the connection of like. there is no way on earth his half asleep mind would even CONSIDER cleaning up the cutlery after eating. but Jason 100% would. which means Jason cleaned up last night. which means the ribs were real and so was he. which means-

holy fucking shit his brother’s alive

Bruce is not impressed when after the eventual big family reunion he asks Dick why the fuck he didn’t tell anybody else that Jason was alive and Dick goes bright red before mumbling ‘well he didn’t want to share his food until week four of living with me….’

[nappycherub]

what if Damian wasn’t sent to Bruce by Talia and instead decided to do a bit of early child-rebellion by running away to him himself. Talia, pissed off but too busy dealing with uprisings in the league to go track him down herself, calls up the person Damian is most likely to listen to other than her; his brother, who she trusts to keep him safe.

the thing is, Jason is 1: busy with his own missions atm 2: was also once a rebellious little asshole who liked to run away from home. he was Damian’s tutor once, he knows the kid can handle himself and he also knows if he CAN’T handle something he’ll contact Jason for help. he knows this because about a week before Talia called him, Damian called him.

Jason, phone balanced between his ear and shoulder: what do you want, i’m undercover

Damian: i require money for a fake passport.

Jason:

Jason, letting go of the guy he was beating up: alright you have my attention.

Damian: i am running away from home. i wish to do something ‘for the lore’ like the stories you used to tell me as a child.

Jason:

Jason ‘i’m going to ethiopia’ Todd: there’s some stuff in the fake panel under my bed. don’t tell me where you’re going, i don’t want to be complicit when Talia calls. also don’t die, because if you do i’m gonna make you eat dirt once you get out of the pit.

Damian: understood. if i am about to die, i shall call again.

Jason: have fun kiddo.

so Jason tells Talia he’ll ‘keep an eye out for any leads’ and then goes back to his normal business. league missions, his own missions, some outlaw shit, and eventually he ends up crime lording it up in Gotham. he’s a little confused when Tim Drake is seen swinging around as Red Robin rather than just Robin, but he got over his obsession with the Robin shit a while ago, so he ignores it.

until he runs into Batman and Robin. and there isn’t a mask in the fucking world that could hide his kid brother’s face from him.

Red Hood:

Robin:

Red Hood:

Robin:

Batman: why are you two staring at each other like that. what’s happening.

Robin:

Red Hood: *deep sigh*

Robin: are you going to tell mother-

Red Hood: -when you said ‘like the stories i used to tell you’.

Robin: *looks at the floor*

Red Hood: i did NOT think you meant running to a different country to find your birth parent. you fucking COPIER.

Robin:

Robin: …but you made being Robin sound so cool…

Batman: what the fuck are you two talking about?

Red Hood, pointing: you stay out of this, this is family business.

Batman: ????

[nappycherub]

Bruce: *genuinely excited but keeping a neutral expression. Dressed to the absolute nines, holding a large bouquet of flowers* I have a date, I will not be back for dinner

Tim: *looking up from his iPad* ? What do you mean you have a date? I wasn’t aware you were talking to anyone? When did you start talking to them? Who is them?!

Jason: Wow, way to not sound stalkerish Timmers. Going back to your roots I see

Dick: Shut up, both of you. Anyways, Bruce we’re super happy for you! Aren’t we? *glaring at his brothers*

Damian: I do not approve Baba

Bruce: Didn’t expect you to *ruffles Damian’s hair to annoy him*

Tim: But seriously though, who is it?

Bruce: *glancing down at his watch* Oops, looks like I gotta jet. Don’t wait up!

Jason: … but seriously who is it?

- 5 minutes later -

Batboys are hunched over Tim’s computer as they frantically try to dig up information on Bruce’s date

Bruce: *slams front door shut and throws flowers in the fireplace* Love is dead and evil. Cheating bitches should die. I hate everything

Batboys: *blinking in surprise*

Bruce: *stomping up the stairs, yelling* Alfred! Where’s the key for the liquor cabinet?

Dick: So… Dames I heard you recently sharpened your sword?

Damian: *nods enthusiastically* Indeed

Jason: Great! I need some target practice anyways. You coming Tim?

Tim: Yeah one sec I gotta text Cass and Duke, they’ll want a piece of the action *texting furiously on his phone*

Dick: *on the phone* Hey Aunt Harley, would you happen to be free right about now?

[nappycherub]

Another dream lol, I’ve been sitting on this one trying to put it into words

——

Something terrible happens on patrol. It’s one of the rare nights that Bruce is completely alone, the rest of the family too angry to even be in the same room as him. Bruce understands, he really does. He hates himself too.

So, instead of sitting his family down and risking the inevitable fumble of his words, which would ultimately just make things worse, he does what he always does. He dons his cowl and he roams the streets, looking for someone to save, even if he can’t save himself.

It rough. It’s like all the petty criminal somehow got the memo that Bats was going at it alone. Bruce hardly had a moment to breathe as he jumped from alley to alley, just doing what he could.

Whether or not Bruce gets distracted by trying to protect an innocent civilian, overwhelmed by sheer number of perps surrounding him, a flashback of intense trauma, or another reason; Bruce gets shot.

Batman takes down the criminal who shot him with ease, pretending that the bullet missed or was deflected by his cape.

Bruce stumbles into an empty and desolate alley, bleeding severally from his side as he slumps down against a wall. He can’t help but remember his parents in a ln alleyway so similar to the one he was in now.

And fuck, if that doesn’t make him want to see his family. So, he calls them. The rapid blood loss making his hands shake and his vision swim with every movement.

Dick first. His first baby that he made so many mistakes with, but they still love each other. Dick is a constant in his life that he can always rely on for joy and to see the brighter side of things. Bruce is sure that if he never got involved Dick still would have grown into the wonderful and impressive adult that he was currently.

He goes straight to voicemail

Jason next. He’s not technically supposed to have his number but he’s Batman so it wasn’t that hard to find. Letting Jason down has always been Bruce’s greatest regret. He’s happy where they are now in their relationship, but he can’t help but think of the what-ifs. He wonders if Jason truly knows how much he loves him and never regrets taking him in.

He goes straight to voicemail

Tim pulled him out of the most depressive time of his life when not even Alfred or Dick could. No matter what Tim thought, he would always be his little boy, not just the neighbor’s son. He’s so intelligent and kind that Bruce feels his hearts swell every time he sees him

He goes straight to voicemail

He wishes with everything in his being that he had been in Damian’s life since the beginning. He wishes that he could connect with him now. Damian is so sweet and kind, not only with animals despite what he and a lot of people think. Bruce loves seeing him grow and learn away from the League of Assassins.

He goes straight to voicemail

Alfred has taken care of Bruce since the very beginning, even before his parents died. Even if Alfred would never acknowledge it, he knows that the three of them were in love with each other. Alfred took the place where his father would be if he was still alive. He’s always been there to set him straight or encourage him. Alfred promised him, when he was just a boy in a world of unknown, that he would always answer when he called.

…

Bruce finally calls the Batmobile and has the car auto drive to his location. He limps into the front seat and watches his city fly by.

When he gets to the cave he collapses in a cot, shivering slightly, wondering why that cave suddenly feels so cold and why he feels so tired.

Bruce doesn’t have any time for that. He patches himself up, extracting the bullet from his side and stitching up his wound. He writes his report, keeping it simple and void of an unnecessary actions and emotions.

If anyone asks him, Bruce will tell them that nothing happened. It was a quiet night.

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡