#Holy fuck Jason knows what I said about him

[oifaaa]

My new theory is that the titans tower fight was actually just a dream Tim had and never actually happened explaining why Jason was so ooc and how he was able to get all the way over to Titans tower when he was meant to be in Gotham

[to-the-batcomputer]

christ almighty. bruce wayne i don't forgive you for anything (<- girl who just watched utrh voice)

[spidernuggets]

im very intrigued and fascinated about the way you write jason! i wonder what would happen next when reader found out the man she has been lusting for is the red hood👀 (if youre up to and feel free to ignore this if you dont) for part 2 jason x reader. thank youuuu

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Part 2 to this.

MDNI

Warning: more of reader's fantasies, Jason losing his self-control, slight biting, fingering

"Ah, you're a bouncer?" You said, leaning your chin against your palm as you talked with Jason. When he asked you out on a proper date at the same place the two of you first met, you were thrilled.

Sure, you didn't want to replace your boy, Red Hood, but he didn't seem like the person who'd reveak his identity to some civilian who would oatch him up every once in a while. Plus, you haven't been dating for a while, so now you got this hunk of beef sitting right in front of you.

"Yeah, yeah.. Not at a set place, though. I move around from time to time." Jason said, sipping on his black coffee. When asking you out, he believed it would've been a breeze.

Well, it has. It wasn't awkward. It seemed like you were having a great time, and he liked that. What he didn't like was now that you told him— Well. Told Red Hood your... 'infatuation' with this newfound civilian, Jason Todd, with every glace you took with each part of his body; his legs, his arms, his hands, his fucking nose, his mind would replay those atrocious but delicious scenes you described to him: Choking you with his biceps, squishing your face with his thighs, your sopping cunt dragging over his crooked nose-

"Do you get a lot of weirdos to deal with?" You suddenly asked, breaking him out of his trance.

He shrugged, pretending that his cock wasn't semi hard right now. "Here and there." He said.

Jason would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about you before you told him about your fantasies. He remembers the ice-cold showers he had to take with his hand grasped around his cock, visualising your mouth and moans as his slick mixed with the water.

He was so ashamed. You were some innocent civilian he met, helping him out with his injuries. But that all changed when you met Jason Todd. He still felt a little humiliation thinking about you naked so easily. He taught himself to be more respectful than that. But, hey. He asked you on a date. Baby steps.

You shrugged. "Shouldn't be a problem for you, huh? With those muscles, I doubt they'd give you much threat."

You bastard.

Why the hell did you have to comment on his muscles? He felt like pouncing on you to satisfy your desire if shoving his tongue dow your throat.

He cleared his throat. "Nothing I can't handle."

"Thanks for asking me out, Jason," you said, looking up at him as the two of you stood outside. "I had fun. We should do it again sometime."

He hated you. You acted all innocent. He knew right now that you were thinking of the most filthiest things. And that's making him think of the most filthiest things. That's your fault he's thinking this way. It's totally your fault. But he wouldn't admit to himsekf that he's definitely coming over to your place as Red Hood to hear what other things you have to say about Jason.

He nodded. "I had fun, too." He lightly smiled back. "I'll see you around, yeah?"

"Mhm. Bye, Jason," you said as you got on your bus.

"Holy. Shit, Red." You groaned, cleaning a small wound on his arm.

"I don't wanna hear it." He gruffs.

Yes. Yes, the hell he does.

"Don't care. You should've thought twice about coming over for me to clean a scratch," you scoffed.

"As if he couldn't get any sexier, he's a goddamn bouncer. Fuuuck, I would literally pay to see him throw around some weirdos."

Red Hood turned to face you. "You know bouncers don't do that, right?"

"Shut up. Don't interrupt me. Anyway. I literally would've let him kiss me there. Slow and soft, hard and wet, who cares, I'd accept either. And if we weren't in a damn cafe, I would've let him bend me over that stulid table."

Jason didn't realise how good his self-control was. If he was alone, he'd be rock hard. Hell, he'd probably already be cumming.

"There. All done." You said, tossing the blood-stained wipes into the bin. "What?" You said when you turned around, seeing Red Hood stare silently at you.

It was stupid, really. Jason Todd and Red Hood are the same person. The same person that you were thinking so dirty of. But you didn't know that. So, you talking about wanting to fuck 'some other guy' instead of him pissed him off. He wanted you to tell him directly.

Ah. Maybe that's why he wasn't hard.

"You literally saw me beat people to a pulp, and you're worked up about this guy being a bouncer? One whose job isn't to toss people around?" He gruffed, a scowl on his face.

"You jealous?" You smirked. "I told you so many times. I'd be interested in you if I knew what you look like. You're hot as fuck... But at the same time I don't know if you're hot as fuck."

"You're really fucking annoying, you know that?" He said, standing up, making you scrunch your brows together.

"What?—"

"How many times do I have to tell you to shut up about your weird sexual desires about this guy you went on ONE date with?" Jason doesn't know what he's doing. Or what he's saying. He wants to do all that shit with you. Make you scream, make you cum, make you feel good. It's not your fault you don't know, but he doesn't want to blame himself for wanting you so much.

You rolled your eyes. "I told you not to come back if you didn't wanna kno—"

Jason tore his helmet off, his eyes blown, and his cheeks flushed. It was just hot under his helmet, he guesses.

"Oh, what the fuck." You said, your shoulders sagging and your jaw dropped as he revealed himself to you. Though your shock quickly changed to embarrassment.

Oh my fucking god, you just told this guy the most horrid things you'd let him do to you.

Jason stormed his way right in front of you, towering over you. "How many times, huh?" He repeated. "I told you to shut up, but you never fucking listen."

His rough voice was supposed to be threatening. But why the hell were your legs clenched together at the way he shadowed over you? Why the hell was his snarled face and gritted teeth making you want to get on your knees.

"Your face.. that face.." He lowly said, pointing his finger between your eyes. "You're doing it again! You're letting that vulgar brain think again! Do you know how hard it was today? Having to take you on a date without wanting you to drag you to an empty aisle and fuck you senseless?" His hands moved to your hips, gripping them tight as his touch sent a wave of heat rushing to your core.

"The fuck- I didn't know!How the hell was I supposed to know you were Red Hood!" You defended yourself, though he ignored it.

"Come here." He demanded, tmdragging you dmto the couch. He sat down, pulling you with him. You stumbled over him, your ass rutting against his crotch, making him groan as your back was flush against his chest.

Jason left one hand resting on your hip, bringing his other arm to wrap around your neck. "This what you wanted, sweetheart?" He said spitefully.

You gasped, your hands instantly holding onto his forearm. Holy shit, it's happening. You don't know whether to be scared or excited.

"Jason.." You squeaked, leaning your head back against his shoulder.

"What? I thought this was what you wanted." He lowly said, giving your hips a squeeze before trailing his hand down to your thigh, rubbing it up and down. He then flexed his other arm, just a bit to put slight strain to your throat.

It was pathetic when you let out a small whine. He barely touched you, yet you can feel your panties soaking up already.

Jason took your chin between his index and thumb, turning your head to look at him. "Is this what you wanted?" He lowly asked as his lips just barely grazed over yours.

"Yes.." You whispered, leaning closer just to feel more of his lips. Jason let out a guttural groan as he pressed his lips against yours, his hand tightly gripping your thigh while you couldn't help but whimper, finally feeling his chapped lips.

As Jason dragged his tongue over your bottom lip, seeking entrance, you made no hesitation giving him what he wanted. And finally, your dreams of him stuffing your mouth with his tongue have been fulfilled.

While his tongue explored every inch of your mouth, his hand was inching up your thigh, tracing the waistband of your sweatpants before his fingers trailed inside, gliding over your soaked panties

"Shit.. Wet already?" Jason muttered against your lips as your hips stuttered among his hold.

"Fuck— Red, I swear if you're gonna spend the next 20 minutes teasing me, I'm kicking you out and finishing this off myself," you hissed impatiently.

"Needy, needy, needy," Jason shook his head and clicked his tongue as his fingers moved in circular motions over your clothes cunt, making you whine and throw your head back over his shoulder.

"Oh.. Yes, just like that.." You muttered, grasping onto his bicep.

Jason's ego skyrocketed at your cute moans as his hand found its way under your panties, feeling your sopping sex as your breath shuddered, begging for more.

He groaned at your pleas, his fingers pinching at your clit as you whined, turning your head as you sunk your teeth just barely into his arm while Jason let out a whispered curse.

He let two of his fingers find their way into your cunt, pumping in and out, the lewd, squelching sounds and moans filling up your living room.

"Fuck! Faster— Please!" You whined as your hips bucked against his hand, making Jason oblige to your begging as he quickened the pace.

You felt your stomach knotting up as your breath was caught in your throat, your other hand reaching up behind you, grasping at Jason's hair. He knew you were close as he continued to pump his thick fingers inside of your pussy while his thumb rubbed against your throbbing clit, his lips pressing soft, reassuring kisses to your neck.

Your back arched as you felt yourself let go, your cum soaking both his fingers and your panties. Jason moved his arm from your neck to your waist, supporting you up while you panted, turning your head to face him while he pressed a kiss to your forhead.

"Fuck.. Jason.. I—" Before you could get up, Jason grabbed your waist, pushing you down to lie on the couch while he hovered over you, pressing his knee between your legs.

"Hold on, sweet thing. Did you think we were finished?" He muttered. "No, no... there's so much that you wanted me to do to you... And I'm gonna make sure you don't miss out.."

i'll personally pay for everyone's therapy after reading this, I'm so sorry, writing smut isn't my forte

@little-miss-naill @viylikescats @jasontoddsthunderthigh @bizarresuperflaw @927roses-and-stuff @myromanempiree @heylosers06 @doorflameburnt @kurai-hono-blog @linasymphonia @blacksiren777 @diamondnightsky23 @lizzyk137

[brucewaynehater101]

Tim with hannaki disease

spending his childhood choking on flowers

Barely able to breathe rejection after rejection

Jason is attacking him at the tower and he can’t stop coughing out flowers

when dick gives Damian Robin, Tim leaves the cave spitting out petals

imagine if he died of suffocation during the Bruce quest

Fuck. I love hanahaki disease.

Tw: death, blood, asphyxiation, fictional disease, dead body description, gore

For those of y'all unaware, it's a completely fictional disease where having unrequited love results in the person growing flowers in their chest. It's usually romantic, but I prefer the platonic versons (especially child-parent angst, holy fuck).

I've seen two types of hanahaki:

The love is actually unrequited

The person only perceives the love as being unrequited

Either way, the progression is as follows:

Person coughs up one petal

They start coughing up more and usually blood

They cough up an entire blossom

They die trying to cough up the entire flower (blossom and stem)

There are four outcomes to hanahaki disease, depending on what rules you are working with:

Love becomes requited

Person dies

They have a surgery to remove their ability to have feelings

They lose (voluntarily or not) their memories about their unrequited love

Some people play with flower meanings of the petals being coughed up. I fucking love those versions so much.

Let's get into the AU! The timeline is mine to fuck around with, so excuse any non-canon progressions.

~~~~

Tim has chronic hanahaki disease from his parents. They visit often enough to quell the worst symptoms and mitigate the damage, but they don't stick around enough (or show enough constant attention) for the petals to go away.

Janet once asked Tim if he'd like to get the surgery. Tim said no. Janet respected that choice and never asked again even though Tim was like nine at the time. It also becomes a fear of his. He wakes up in cold sweat at the phantom idea of just not being able to love anyone. It terrifies him, even if the feeling of asphyxiation is the only other option.

When Janet dies and Tim becomes Robin, he does his best to hide his condition from Bruce. It worsens, from the way Tim adores and loves the Bats, but Tim manages.

It's a rough few years, but slowly, the ice begins to melt. The Waynes show Tim more and more affection. YJ also shower him in so much care to the point that Tim has days of uninterrupted breathing.

It's a novel but welcome feeling.

Jack waking up from the coma complicates shit. His condition worsens again, but it's manageable.

Until Tim's sixteenth birthday.

The teen will never admit, but that test nearly fucking killed him. Bruce never finds out how close he was to killing his Robin, but Tim knows. He'll never forget how thorns scraped along his throat at the idea that he can't trust anyone. He'll never rid himself of the intimate knowledge of how blossoms taste in his mouth and the sickly sweet smell of blood mixed with flower petals.

Tim has to quit Robin, for his safety, health, and as a "fuck you" to Bruce, but realizes he can't keep in contact with Dick, Alfred, or Barbara without it. He can't contact his team.

He has to go back, so he does.

Tim's not sure if it's better or worse that Bruce didn't know about the hanahaki. If the man did, would he still have done the test? Due to him never showing remorse or guilt for his actions, the teen doesn't know.

The question pesters him even when his dad finds out about Robin.

It plagues him through Steph becoming Robin and dying.

It festers into his bones when, while wearing those same damn colors, he hears his father die.

That is one or many reasons "Uncle Eddie" was created.

Tim can't quite trust Bruce, but he finds himself still loving the father-like figure in his life. He finds himself forgiving him. He leans into the hair ruffles, shoulder pats, and gruff words of affection. He lets himself be loved.

Then, an undead asshole in a gleaming red bucket comes to kick Tim's ass. The teen can't help but laugh at the way his life bounces between breathing and dying at the drop of a hat.

He's just barely able to hide the flowers from both Red Hood and the Titans.

A little assassin appears, and each attack brings a petal.

Each new death hampers Tim's ability to breathe. Tim tries, but it's so fucking hard. How is he supposed to live without them?

With the ticklish scrape of petals, Tim doesn't think he's supposed to.

Bruce isn't dead. Tim knows, with every fiber of his being, that Bruce can't be dead. Tim won't survive if he is.

Even if Tim loses everything, even if these damn fucking flowers consume him, at least his death will have a purpose.

That's what he tells himself as he lies in a pool of blood beneath the stars. The sand at his back is soft in comparison to the stem piercing his throat and tongue. The sound of his choking is joined by the bubbling wheezing of Pru.

Ra's peers down at the body already set with rigor mortis. Tim's jaw is pried apart by a bouquet of yellow carnations dripping in blood.

The demon head hums at the sight, a dangerous gleam to his eyes. With the flick of a hand, two assassins grab the young detective's corpse. The other three bodies are taken as well.

Tim's eyes fling open as the teen gasps for air.

It's wrong. It's wrong. It's all wrong. He's empty.

He's surrounded in green.

Oh fuck.

For awhile, Tim just soaks in the soft expansion of his lungs. He marvels at their capability.

He can't remember a time when he's been able to breathe so easily. It's enchanting and allots the teen a giddy sort of relief.

Through the destruction of both the Spiders and the LoA, he finds himself taking small moments to just breathe. It's a simple joy he can't help but partake in.

Tim logically knows there's a price. His breaths cost him, though he doesn't know their price. He should be dead and buried within the flowers.

He is neither.

He is alive. He is free (from the petals. It takes him a little bit to become free of Ra's).

Tim brushes aside these valid and alarming concerns to focus on his goals: escape, take down Ra's, and derail whatever retaliation occurs.

So that's what Tim does. He ignores the insistent sense of wrongness and focuses on the task at hand. He coordinates his friends and family. He faces down Ra's. He gets kicked out of a window.

With a grim smile, his body goes lax and his eyes flutter shut

He's done.

When Tim springs up from unconsciousness, Steph's voice reassures him he's safe. She tells him he's in the batcave.

The tension to bleeds from his body as Damian mutters a demand. Tim's eyes dart from Robin to Batgirl to Batman (Dick) to Alfred.

That sinking feeling of wrongness returns.

Dick's eyes are trained on the teen as he asks Tim, "How did you know I'll be there to save you?"

It's obvious the man is worried. It's obvious he's so fucking glad he caught his younger brother.

The lie falls from Tim's lips as smooth as any truth, "You're my brother, Dick. You'll always be there for me."

Dick's face brightens with fond relief.

Tim watches. He observes the reactions of his older brother. He catalogs the effect of his words on the man he's admired and loved for thirteen years.

He notes all of this.

And he feels nothing.

[papaya-twinks]

ok so what abt a lando one where there’s an age gap and he’s always been obsessed with her and like stalkers her, does research on the guys she brings home and goes out with basically totally dark stalker vibes. But the thing is she knows she has a stalker but no idea who it is bc whenever he confronts her he is wearing his racing helmet, and they always do even more each time they meet, liek first time they met he just caressed her but then like the 3rd time fingers her and 4th fucks her. THEN SOMEWEAR IN IT PLSSS. Lando has a sex tape of them and jerks off to it and thinks ‘fuck I can’t do this anymore’ kidnaps her and now she’s kinda like his toy but sugar daddy vibes bc he treats her well. And this is all consensual bc the reader wants an adventure as her ex bf was so vanilla ( which lando knows allll abt and explains in detail to her what she used to do with him) THATS ALOT IM SRRY U DONT HAVE TO DO IT

Warnings: Five year age gap (sorry, large age gaps make me squeamish), stalker, dark fic, 18+ kidnapping, sex, smut, 18+, consensual, sex tape, fingering, abusive partner (not Lando), sugar daddy, swearing

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - I’m adding some biker!lando into this coz his F1 helmet is just cutsies but a black biker one? dark dark shit right there.

Lando had met you at an F1 race, where you’d been in the garage. Something about how darn innocent you looked with your pretty little dress, all young and…wow. And with the help of Oscar (who simply thought his teammate just had an interest in some girl), he found out about you.

Y/N Y/L/N. You were 19 years old, your favourite colour was pink, you were cute and innocent and sweet, and you loved bows and ribbons. How adorable. And so it began, Lando followed you on a burner account, and watched all your stories, pinpointing your exact location to be in Monaco.

Oh how perfect, you were in the same country as him and, conveniently, he had the whole summer break to play around with the information.

y/n

caption: spending this day alone but with a great cafe to make up for it :)

friend3: oooo, have fun 💗💗💗

-> y/n: will do, thank you x

friend2: looking chic, y/n!

friend1: enjoy yourself and try the chocolate cake 👀

user1: café can’t be as gorgeous as you are 😉

-> y/n: oh, thank you?

You had just brushed off whoever ‘user1’ was, not really paying much mind to unusual flirty message, and continued with your day at the cafe. However, you couldn’t shake the slightly unsettling feeling that you were being watched.

You’d seen this happen in movies, and you couldn’t deny that the slight tingle of adrenaline coursing through your body wasn’t enjoyable. And so you looked behind you, from your cake and your phone, your eyes locking with someone else’s.

Well, more you found yourself staring back at a helmet. A plain, slick black helmet, the person wearing it adorned in a leather black jacket and light blue jeans. You couldn’t see any features to help show you who it was, but it was kind of…interesting.

Did you confront the person? No, you’d seem desperate or stupid. So you went back to your food, and never once did it cross your mind that perhaps, user1 was your stalker. But you didn’t see the stalker anymore. And you were a little disappointed they’d moved on so quickly, but you too moved on, going on your dates, looking for love, as girls your age did.

“Jason? What the fuck?” Lando said, eyeing the new name at the bottom of your followers. He’d skimmed through them, making a note of each and every person on your Instagram list, but seeing a guy? He couldn’t deny the feeling of annoyance in his stomach.

And thankfully, he’d made note of the guy’s instagram enough to see where the date would take place. Foolish, foolish move. And once again, you were sitting at a chair opposite this man, Jason, when your eyes fell on the same, sleek black helmet once more. Holy shit. And quicker than it had come, it was gone. For fucks’ sake.

*1 month later*

You and Jason were dating now, and to say he was toxic was an understatement. “Jason, I’m just gonna go out with my friends,” you said, picking up your purse as he scowled from the sofa, still in his sleeping clothes. “Why? So you can see some guy under the guise of friends? Likely,” Jason scoffed.

He was frustrating. “I’m not seeing another guy, I’m going with my friends,” you said, repeating your words as he groaned. “For fucks’ sake, Y/N, no means no!” he yelled, his words making you flinch as you sighed and dropped your purse back down.

“Fine, if you’re gonna be a brat, fucking go!” Jason seethed, pushing you to the door. Well, at least you’d get to go. The meet up with your friends ended a few minutes later, and just as you were leaving..,the helmet. This time, you would confront him. Or her.

“Uh, hi,” you said, walking slowly towards the helmet-man. He was definitely muscular. You were standing in the middle of an alleyway, the darkness flooding round you as the helmet stared down at you from his spot. “Uh, I’m Y/N,” you said, holding your hand out for him to shake.

He didn’t shake it.

You watched as he placed a hand in your shoulder, still not having said anything, and interlocked your other hand in his. He pushed a bit of paper into your hand, your eyes on the words. A phone number. Interesting. As soon as you looked back up, he was gone.

unknown user

y/n: hello

user: Hello.

y/n: who is this?

user: you don’t need to know.

user: come to the boulevard tomorrow at 9pm. leave jason behind. tell him your seeing a friend.

Holy shit x2. The air of mystique around whoever this was…was somewhat unsettling but at the same time, it was kinda a turn on. And wait, how did he know who Jason was? Oh, he’d done his research. Nice one.

And so you did what he said, managing to wriggle out of Jason’s possessive gaze, and you found yourself, waiting where this stalker had said. And there he was, in the same jacket and the same helmet, looking back at you. And perfectly on time, as well. Either he was desperate or…well, you didn’t know.

It was dark all round you, no one around and the streets unlit in this area. You watched as he reached out a gloved hand, taking your hand in his and pulling you between the trees, the mask of the night shielding you. He had strong hands.

You didn’t truly care what he’d do next, as he sat you down, the dry earth coating the back of your dress as he pushed it up, your thighs visibly shaking. A soft gasp left your lips as he trailed his hand over your core. You hadn’t worn panties. Good.

It was almost like he was complimenting you as he gave you a small smack on your thigh, before he removed his glove, dipping his finger between your folds as you moaned, eyes wide. “Shit…” you trailed off, your eyes wide as he added another, your knot building up. Fucking weeks of faked orgasms, and this one felt real.

He didn’t say anything, simply moving his hand faster, the tan skin of his fingers curling as he rubbed at your clit with his thumb. Who was this fucking angel? A loud moan left your lips as your orgasm flooded over you, his hand moving from between your legs, the remnants of your pleasure on his hand as he wiped it down his jacket, watching you for a second, before he left.

Part 1 of his plan: complete.

And the next day, you received yet another message from the same user, your eyes lighting up. It was an address.

user: [address], 10pm. no panties either.

And you arrived at the surprisingly grand hotel, showing the receptionist the room number and she gestured the way. You paused outside the door, thoughts of everything flashing through your head. Who was this man? Was he safe? Was he dangerous? Fuck it, you just needed another orgasm.

As you walked in, you failed to notice the little camera set up on the desk behind a bottle of lotion, your eyes on the man standing in the doorway of the en-suite bathroom. You didn’t say anything, neither did he, as he walked to you, lifting your dress once more and laying you down on the bed.

With one hand, he dipped his fingers into your core, the other hand undoing his belt as he dropped his trousers, taking your hand and wrapping it round the base of his (surprisingly large) cock. You heard the small sound of a groan, not enough to identify who it was, but you pumped his slowly, his own hand toying with your core.

Still, he’d didn’t remove his helmet. You gasped as he pressed his cock against you, one hand pressing down on your throat gently, the restriction of your airways adding to the pleasure, as his other hand pressed your stomach down to stop you from arching. You whined as he tugged your jaw forwards, forcing you to look at the small bump in your stomach.

Holy shit x3.

You gasped as he started moved, your lips parting as he moved his head down, lifting the visor and pressing immediately to your neck, so you couldn’t see anything but his lips as he licked at the supple, sweet skin of your collarbone. His hips picked up pace as you moaned, his fangs nipping at your skin as he peppered kisses to your neck.

You could feel the pleasure build up in both of you as he held you down, his hand moving from your neck to massage you clit in soft, slow circles, his other hand kneading the skin of your breasts. “Shit,” you muttered as he sped up, the knot in your stomach building faster and faster as you suppressed your moans, your eyes rolling.

He pulled out before he came, spilling the liquid onto your thighs as he bit down once onto your neck, sucking the hickey under your coat and out of sight, before fixing you up. And then he pushed you out the room. Oh god.

“What the fuck?!” Jason snapped, stepping into the shower with you. “Where did you get a hickey from?” he asked, your eyes wide. You’d totally forgotten about it. “You gave it to me last time we fucked,” you said coolly, trying to play it off. “Oh…right,” Jason muttered. Wow, he was stupid.

“Fuck,” Lando gasped, his eyes rolling as he tried to keep his attention on the video of the night before, his hand desperately trying to recreate the sensation of your tight cunt, how good it had felt having your warmth clenching round him. “For fucks’ sake,” Lando muttered staring down at the menial drops of cum coating his hand.

And there was only one way he could have you all of himself. Kidnapping. But, how? You were walking down the boulevard once more, trying not to stare at the spot where you’d been fingered by the mystery man, clutching your bag as you walked down to a bakery, where you wanted to pick up your cakes.

And then, a hand on your mouth, followed by a cloth, and out you went.

……….…………………………

Your lashes fluttered open as a piercing yellow light hung over you, your eyes returning to usual as you looked round the room. You had an itch under your nose, and you reached your hand up, only to find your wrists tied together and to a radiator. What the fuck?!

And then you saw it, the pieces falling into place. A laptop placed perfectly so you could see it, with the video of the mystery man fucking you playing on. The helmet placed onto the side cabinet. A phone with ‘user1’ and the list of all your images he’d saved. What was this?

“Hello sweetheart,” a voice said, the second word dripping with almost condescending sarcasm as you looked up, your eyes locking on a pair of greenish-blue ones. He was the stalker? He was hot, though. “What are you doing, who are you?” you writhed against the ties as he scoffed.

“Fight all you want, then,” he shrugged, “I know you want this,”. You shook your head at his words, making him roll his eyes, before he bent down, untying the tie on your wrists and kneeling to your height. “Don’t wanna be here, is that what you want me to believe?” he smirked. “Then go on,” he gestured to the bedroom door.

“Run, then,”.

But you didn’t. You didn’t run. Though you knew you should, that this wasn’t right, but you didn’t move. “Exactly,” he leaned down to whisper into your ear, running his tongue over the mark he’d left, a shiver rushing up your spine. “Get on the bed, then,” he said with a little sinister smile, but you obeyed.

“On your back, lift your dress,” the man said, directing you with a firm voice as you did what he said, your back against the mattress, your hands tugging the material of your dress upwards. “Good,” he eyed your body, “think a little introduction is in need,”.

“I’m Lando,” he said, his lips brushing your ear as he removed his jeans, “you’re Y/N. I know that,” he said, pumping himself a few times before aligning with your entrance as you gasped. “I know how Jason was a dick,” he continued, “I watched you fake those orgasms,” Lando mused, “and how that cunt of a ‘boyfriend’ never once gifted his perfect little girl anything,”.

You whimpered as he took your chin in his fingers, pressing his lips to your jaw, before sliding into you, his other hand taking a little box from behind you, sliding the ring onto your index finger as he rocked his hips. “Oh, god,” you gasped as he sped up, your hands digging into his shoulders.

“I watched how that cunt couldn’t even make you cum, Y/N,” Lando smirked, “such a pretty girl and he couldn’t even make you cum,”. You whined at his words, your body bouncing a little as the lewd sounds of your skin hitting his as he slammed into you, your eyes rolling in pleasure.

“Cum for me,” he said, his teeth bared against your neck as you gasped, your whimpers filling his ears as he carried on. Oh what he fun he’d have with you.

A/N - I love this.

[redflagshipwriter]

Check Yes Chapter 6

masterpost

“Have you experienced events that could be described as fatal?” Danny read from his notebook. Before Jason could answer he continued, “Do you know the name and species of all your progenitors? Have you ever wondered if you are-” 

Jason held a hand up to ask for silence. He was in the zone on a training module that Barbie had sent to the whole team. He was not going to get any more shit from fucking Tim and Stephanie about being an out of touch old man like Bruce who ran code directly from the 90s.

Danny cut himself off to wait. Without looking up, Jason could see some kind of bouncing movement that had to be Danny fidgeting. “You’re early,” Jason eventually said. He shut the program that he’d been running and then blinked his full attention over to his date. “It’s not- is it 5 already?” He blinked away the gumminess in his eyes and checked the time. 

Danny flushed a little green. His freckles glowed a little whiter in contrast. “No, it’s 4:30,” he admitted sheepishly. “I, uh, left work a little early.” He floated up and then abruptly over into a flip. Like an antsy mermaid. Jason leaned back and watched, fascinated by how easy movement looked on Danny. It was the way he’d used to see Dick, but now he knew how hard Dick’s easy mobility was earned.

“You don’t feel gravity at all, do you?” He confirmed, envious and charmed. 

“Uhh.. Can’t say that I do,” Danny admitted. He shrugged. “Not like this, anyway. I do in my human body, obviously.”

“Is that literally-” Jason cut himself off with a mortified flush. Holy shit. You can’t just ask someone if they have a magical transformation into their own corpse. Insensitive much?

Danny gave him a knowing look but gracefully ignored the question. “Anyway. Do you remember what I asked earlier?” He cocked his head to the side and full body wiggled. “I had Frostbite help me write them out. Undead health isn’t really my area, but he knows everything that’s ever been known, which is pretty cool.”

“Uh…” Jason thought back. “I told you when we were eating that I died once,” he reminded Danny with a raised eyebrow. “So that’s an easy yes.”

Danny shrugged helplessly. “I didn’t know how serious you were or if you were describing something extremely short term like needing afib or something longer term-”

“Dead, buried, in the ground for months,” Jason admitted. “Presumably rotted, but I came back to myself with living human physiology, if extremely damaged from what killed me.” It was really gross to think about. It was also impossible to totally avoid. There should have been no coming back from all the blood drying up and shit.

Danny stared at him with an open mouth for a few seconds. Long enough that Jason fidgeted, uncomfortable.

“That’s the most metal shit I’ve ever heard in my life,” Danny said reverentially. “That’s so nasty, man. You rotted? Does this make me more of a necrophiliac than you?”

Jason choked on his own spit.

Danny did another flip.

“My parents were definitely human,” Jason managed, voice strangled. Best to get this back on topic. “I know for sure. I’ve met them both.”

Danny blew a raspberry. “It’s not always obvious,” he pointed out 

“Anything that would show up on Batman’s DNA analysis can be ruled out,” Jason corrected himself. “And neither of them had any non-human capabilities. Died from things that a Tamaraean or Kryptonian would be able to get out of.” 

“...Oddly specific species mentions,” Danny said. A line formed between his brows. His toes touched down to earth and he crossed his arms. “You… I wasn’t thinking of that type of non-human.” He cleared his throat. “It’s just that, you touched Wolf.”

“And a Kryptonisn wouldn’t be able to?” Jason asked a bit dryly. He didn’t understand the logic.

“Not unless they were really juicy with death,” Danny said in a weirdly mellow tone for such a disgusting sentence.

Jason gagged a little. He couldn’t help it. Oh, christ. Yeah, bodies got wet and shit after a while, but characterizing that as juicy? That was out of line.

“Not like- not like that!” Danny fluttered his hands at Jason, torn between horror and cackling. “I don’t mean like, dead and rotting. I mean dead and reanimated with ectoplasm. Souped with the sweet nectar of the afterlife. Wolf is a ghost, man.” He snickered.

“Wolf is a ghost,” Jason repeated.

Danny frowned. “Wolf,” he said. “Not Wolf.”

“What?” They sounded the same.

“You’re saying it wrong,” Danny said, saying the name the exact same way that Jason had been. “It’s Wolf, not Wolf.”

Jason stared at him warily. “...Spell it for me.”

“W-U-L-F,”  Danny rattled.

Ah. Ok. Jason took that onboard. “Wulf is a ghost,” he said again. “And therefore I ought not be able to touch him. I can touch you.”

“Like this? For sure.” Danny went through his flashbang light-show and shook out his newly black hair. “I’m a physical being. In my ghost form, I can consciously let you touch me. But Wulf was actively in the Ghost Zone when you hit him. You put your hand into the Ghost Zone and smacked him. The living have ghostly properties in the Ghost Zone. He’s tangible there but you should have been intangible.”

“...Maybe I’m a ghost?” Jason posited, cocking his head slightly as he said it. Danny was the expert. “I never found any answer for why I just woke up in my grave one day.”

“You just woke up?” Danny repeated, delighted. He put his hands on his face, breathed into them heavily, and then ran both hands through his hair. “That’s sick. That’s fucking sick, man. Did you have to dig yourself out like a zombie?”

…Did Danny think this was like, hot, and not disturbing? “Tore off my fingernails on the coffin splinters,” Jason confirmed, fascinated with what a little freak this guy was. Danny’s pupil dilated at the words. Jason could almost have been offended because that shit was traumatic, but hey. 

If he really thought about it. It was sick as fuck.

“I think yes, by the way,” Jason decided. He waited for Danny to give him a questioning look  before he elaborated. “You’re a monsterfucker, my guy. I’m attracted to you, but not because you’re dead. Whereas you’re clearly into the fact that I’m a dead guy.” 

Danny opened his mouth. He shut it. He put a hand over his mouth. “Huh,” he said. “Huh.” His brow furrowed. “If I said it was scientific curiosity and that passion for death runs in my family- no, I hear it.” He flapped a hand at Jason to cut off the laugh he couldn’t stop. “Hush. Okay. Fine.” He stood up a little straighter. “I’m a necrophiliac and I’m proud.”

A window banged shut in the kitchen and there was a clatter as someone’s shitty little brother fell into the sink.

“...Hi, Duke!” Danny called.

Jason put his hand over his face.

“Hi, Danny!” Duke called back, voice choked. “Good to hear from you, man.”

“You can’t fucking be here!” Jason said between his fingers. “I have plans, you shitty Zebra mussel.”

Danny looked at him.

“...What?” Duke asked. He came into the room to frown at Jason.

Jason rolled his eyes. “New Zealand mud snail.” They still didn’t get it. “Spotted lantern fly.” 

Blank stares.

“Fucksake,” said Jason. “I’m calling you an invasive species.”

Danny laughed. Duke made a loud pffft sound and unlocked his phone. He held it up and showed them the screen. “Would the New Zealand zebra lantern fly have this?” He triumphantly brandished his phone screen, which was a screenshot of his chat with Jason where he’d confirmed that he had permission to come over.

“New Zealand zebra lantern fly,” Jason repeated, vexed as fuck. “You know damn well-”

“It checks out, boss,” Danny reported, leaning back from Duke’s phone. “Looks like he’s allowed in. Let ‘im use your TV while we go out.”

“Yeah, let me use your TV while you go on a date,” Duke echoed, clearly enjoying this a lot.

“...I’ll get my coat,” Jason said sullenly. “Don’t get too comfortable.”

“We’ll bring you back dinner,” Danny told Duke.

Jason stalked away into his bedroom, wondering when he’d lost the plot to his own life.

[spicy-apple-pie]

I WANNA HEAR ABOUT THE COMIC >:))))))

I did warn you…

Okay so idk if a lot of people know this, but Damian was originally given up for adoption right after he was born before his story was reconned.

So in this comic, Damian is 9 years old and in the foster system in Gotham, unknowing who his parents are. He’s never stays long in a home because he’s very aggressive. He’s smart though, so he orders a DNA testing kit to hopefully find a relative to take him. Imagine his shock when he finds out his father is Bruce Wayne.

So this 9 year old walks into WE by himself, toddles up to the secretary, and asks to see Bruce Wayne. The secretary is like “haha okay, let me help you find your parents.” And Damian is like “you can. My dad is Bruce Wayne.”

And then Tim shows up!! And he’s like, “who’s your dad?”

And Damian is suddenly really nervous and shyly passes Tim the DNA test results. Tim looks them over, and Damian thinks he’s going to get turned away. But then Tim smiles at him and asks him if he has time for a drink.

Damian basically explains his life story over a cup of hot chocolate to Tim. Tim listens and tells him that he’ll make sure Bruce sees it and gives him his number if he has any questions (Damian doesn’t have a phone). Damian gets up to throw out his cup but Tim is like “oh I can throw that out for you. Talk to you soon!”

Cut to the BatCave where Bruce is staring at the DNA test results. Showing him and Talia as the parents. Tim stands behind him. “I doubled and tripled checked.” He says. “Not to mention he’s the spitting image of you.” He mumbles under his breath, knowing that Bruce isn’t in the mood for jokes right now. Alfred places some Tylenol beside Bruce using his butler powers to sense his on coming headache.

“And you said he walked into the lobby by self?” Bruce asked.

“Yeah, he said he took the bus.”

“Oh dear,” Alfred comments, “that is certainly not safe for a boy his age in Gotham. I wonder if his social worker knows about that…”

So the next morning, Damian finds that he’s out of custody from his foster parents. And he’s like “but I didn’t do anything this time!” And his social workers like “no, they’re getting charged with child endangerment. We already have a place lined up for you.”

Lo and behold, his new foster home is Wayne Manor. And he meets Bruce for the first time and he’s really nervous. And Bruce has to turn away because he almost starts crying. And Damian asks Alfred if he did something wrong and Alfred’s like “no, he’s just very happy to see you.”

And that’s basically it. But I also have this idea of how he discovers his Dad is Batman.

He comes downstairs in the early morning for a snack before going back to sleep to find Red Hood raiding their fridge. He runs to Bruce and he’s freaking because fucking RED HOOD broke into their house.

And Bruce groans and is mildly annoyed about and Damian is like “???? Does this happen often????” Bruce brings him downstairs and Red Hood is still there, but making a grilled cheese with his helmet off.

“Jay, how many times do we need to tell you know masks in the house?”

“I dunno. How many fucking children are you going to adopt?” He gestures to Damian hiding behind Bruce.

“He doesn’t know yet, Jay. I was going to wait until he was more comfortable.”

Jason is a little sheepish because he did give the kid a bit of a fright, so he turns around to apologize and introduce himself. And instantly is like “holy shit, that’s a bio kid.”

“Language, Jay…”

“Don’t language me, where the fuck did he come from???”

“What is happening??!!” Damian finally yells.

And then Bruce shows him the BatCave.

I did warn you I’d talk your ear off. I came up with this circa. 2018 - 2019 but I feel like I finally have the skill to draw it. And I honestly fell in love with it again, so I might lol.

Edit: I did it

[sanguineterrain]

THE PT2 OF REPORTER! READER AND JASON OH.MY.GOD I LOVEEEED IT could you pleaaase do a pt3? 🙏 i need them to kiss already 😩 maybe someone from the batfam or even roy go to jason's house and be like ??????who are you????? to reader please💕 i love your writing, i hope you have a nice day💖

here it is! hope y'all enjoy :) part 1 | part 2

jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. tw: gunshot wounds, injured jason, nightwing cameo, patching up, kissing. almost 2.2k

****

You're being a snoop.

In your defense, you're a reporter with too much time on your hands in the Red Hood's apartment. It's impossible not to snoop.

It's also been four days since you moved in. You kind of feel like a crazy ex, hunting for proof that Hood's cheating on you.

So far, you've found nothing except for a worrying amount of hidden firearms. There's a handgun in the toaster. What the hell.

You've been trying to work on the case, but it's hard to investigate when you're in witness protection. Hood is out right now chasing a lead. He had said not to worry about it, but how can you not? How can you not worry about him?

You glance at the clock. 9:24. Hood was supposed to be home half an hour ago. He said he was chasing a lead. You didn't want him to go alone, but you're also pretty shit at avoiding assassins, so.

You've ordered Chinese food from the select list of restaurants Hood said you can order from. He left a wad of cash for you to use. When you paid, you had a moment's pause.

Is the Red Hood your sugar vigilante?

Hm. Not something you're willing to explore right now.

You chew a nail and pick at a crab rangoon. Hood miraculously (or, maybe not so much, considering his stalker tendencies) chose your favorite Chinese restaurant. Usually, you'd have gobbled up your dinner by now. But you can't stop looking at the clock.

The floorboards in the hall creak. You're up instantly, and you go to the door. You wait for Hood's confirmation text that it's him outside. It doesn't come.

There's hushed voices. You run back to the toaster and grab the gun. You have no idea how to use it, but it can't be that hard, right? Point and shoot?

The door opens. You aim the gun. Right in Nightwing's face.

"Whoa," he says, lifting his free arm. His other holds up Hood, who's bleeding from his shoulder and thigh. Holy fuck.

"Safety's on, smarty," Hood slurs, more than a little out of it. "We gotta fix y'posture."

"Oh my God," you say, dropping the gun and racing to help Hood.

Nightwing takes a step back. Hood grunts as he's dragged along.

"Uh, who are you?" Nightwing asks.

"Gotham Gazette," you say on instinct.

"They're w'me," Hood mumbles. "Pu' me down, Wing."

"Why do you have a civilian in your apartment?" Nightwing asks, helping Hood onto the couch.

You run into your bedroom and return with two pillows to support Hood's head.

"You got shot?" you ask, voice going high. "What the actual fuck, Red?!"

"Hood, why do you have a civilian in your apartment?"

Hood groans. "Can we save questions for th'end?"

"Jesus," Nightwing says. "You're ridiculous."

"That's what I said," you grumble, removing Hood's equipment.

"Great. There's two 'f ya. This is why I didn't wanna come here," Hood says. "My reporter gets nervous, Dickface."

"You coming home shot would make any reasonable person nervous, you jerk," you say, scowling.

"Oh my God," you whisper. "God, Red, what did you—"

You peel back Hood's jacket. His undershirt is sticky with blood and singed skin. Your first real, live gunshot wound.

"Wing's got it, sweet," Hood says. "Go on, y'don't gotta see this. 'S gross, I know."

"I'm not going anywhere," you say firmly. You look at Nightwing. "Do you have a problem with me being here?"

"Well, a civilian shouldn't—"

"Good. What do you need from me?"

"Go have a cup'a tea," Hood says.

You glare. "I wasn't talking to you, Helmet Boy."

"Ever hear'a bedside manner?"

"No. Hence why I'm a reporter."

Hood slumps against the couch. That worries you more—if he doesn't have the energy to fight back, his injuries must be bad.

Anxiously, you look at Nightwing. He presses his lips together and then makes a decision.

"Okay. I need hot water and the first aid kit under the microwave."

You nod. "Got it."

You fetch his requests and return. Nightwing gets to work on Hood's thigh first. You hover, finally settling near Hood's head. He's in his undershirt, his tactical pants, and his boots. You touch the side of his helmet. He turns his head to you.

"Didn't I tell ya t'beat it?" he asks.

"Can't get rid of me that easily." You look at Nightwing. "Is it bad?"

"His thigh isn't bad. Bullet missed anything major and went clean through. I'm just patching him up. Gave him some painkillers. Gonna be a bit before they kick in."

You watch Nightwing pull a needle through Hood's skin for half a second before you turn away. Hood grunts.

"Don't gotta stay," he says quietly. "Lotta blood."

"You're hurt," you say. You don't know what else to say, how to put your urgency into words. Physically, you can't leave Hood's side.

"'M tough," he mumbles. "Toughest guy on the block."

"Dumbest too," Nightwing says, cutting the thread.

"Look who's talkin'."

Their dynamic is odd. Not what you expected, considering how empty the outside of Hood's fridge is. You couldn't find any other photos of friends or family.

"Alright." Nightwing sighs and shifts over. "Now the shoulder. Hood, did it go through?"

"'Fraid not, Blue. Gonna hafta deep dive."

You make a weak noise in your throat. Nightwing pinches Hood's side. Hood winces.

"No, no. I was jokin'. Stupid joke. Sorry."

"I should've never let you go out alone," you say.

"Let me? 'M a stubborn man. Even the Bat can't make me do shit."

"Understatement of the century," Nightwing says, studying the wounds. "You're gonna need to take off your helmet for this one."

They both look at you. You puff up.

"I'm not—"

"Look," Nightwing says gently. "I know you're—"

"Blindfold! You can blindfold me." You get up and look around. "What can we use for a..."

"I think I have a black tie in the top middle drawer," Hood says.

You race to his room and race back with the tie. It smells like the same lavender detergent as your sheets. Nightwing and Hood are whispering when you return; they stop talking as soon as you enter. You pretend not to notice.

"'Kay. Nightwing?" You hand him the tie. "Would you like to do the honors?"

"Weirdest patching up I've ever done," Nightwing says.

"I've had weirder," Hood says.

Nightwing ties the tie around your head. "Okay?"

You nod. "Good."

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Hood asks.

You roll your eyes. "I don't know, Red."

"Don' roll ya eyes a'me."

You raise your brows. "How did you—"

"Magic. Do it, Wing."

There's some rustling, a click, and then you can hear Hood's breathing, just like you did a few nights ago.

"This is gonna hurt," Nightwing warns.

Hood hums. "Nothing I can't handle."

The sound of a bullet being dug out of flesh is one you never want to hear again. Hood's strangled groan is a million times worse.

"Almost done, Little Wing," Nightwing whispers. "I'm sorry. Almost done."

"Red?" You inch forward, searching for his hand. He takes it and squeezes.

"'M fi–ine," he says, sounding very much not fine. "Ah, shit. Ha-hate shoulder wounds."

You move closer, cradling his whole arm. Hood grunts. He strokes your knuckles with his thumb.

"'S okay," he says. "'M okay."

His breathing returns to normal after several minutes. You hold his hand the entire time. There's some rustling, and you hear Nightwing stand.

"He'll be okay. He just needs to rest."

"What can I do?" you ask, blindfold still on.

"Well—"

"Nothin'," Hood says. "I'm peachy. Just needa sleep it off."

You whip your head around. "You got shot!"

"Not my first bullet and won't be my last. Here, lemme put on my helmet—"

"Hood, no! My God, you're insane."

"You're realizing this now?" he asks. "'S fine, I can do it—"

"Okay!" Nightwing says loudly. "I'm gonna go. It was nice to meet you. I'm glad Hood has a..."

"Reporter," Hood finishes.

"...Right. A reporter who... cares so much about him. Uh-huh."

It's quiet for a moment. You know they're having a conversation, but you can't see them.

"Don't tell B," Hood says.

Nightwing laughs. "Oh, you're in the shit. A reporter in your apartment and two bullet wounds? You owe me big."

"We're working a case together, and I'm not trying to expose Hood," you say. "I don't even care who you two are."

That is a lie, but whatever. Vigilantes are a paranoid breed. You can relate.

Nightwing sighs. "Alright, okay. I won't say anything. Make sure he doesn't bleed out. If anything changes, call me on his phone."

"I will. Thank you for helping him."

"What I'm here for," Nightwing says, and he sounds like he means it. "Hood?"

"'M fine, Wing. Go home to your girl."

"Ahem. Right. Good night."

The window creaks and then it's just you and Hood. You make yourself comfortable on the floor next to the couch, blindfold still on. You don't mind the dark. Touching Hood, you feel safe.

"Red?"

"Hmm?"

"Oh. Thought you were asleep."

"No, but Wing's lecture had me gettin' there." He squeezes your hand. "Y'okay?"

"Yes."

You lace your fingers together. Hood's hand is cold. You hold it close and try to warm it up.

"Take that off," he says. "I'll put the helmet on."

"Don't be an idiot. You'll jostle your stitches."

"Bossy, bossy..."

You sigh. "Red, whatever you did tonight—"

"Y'know I won't let anything happen to you, right?" he says. "Right?"

"What if you'd died tonight, Hood?"

You eyes are damp. He squeezes your hand again.

"I wouldn't. Not goin' anywhere."

"You have no control over that, and making such promises is outrageous. Why wouldn't you get proper medical attention?" you ask.

"'Cause that requires Batman, and he and I had a tiff."

"A tiff."

"Mmhm."

It sounds like more than that, but you drop it.

"Red, I was so worried."

"Smarty, th' others would take care of ya if anything hap—"

"I was worried about you! I was worried you weren't coming back, Red."

Silence.

"I... I care about you. I mean, yeah, I care about the case, and I wanna bring in the bad guys, but shit, Red. Not at your expense."

He lets go of your hand. Then, a finger dances across your cheek. You gasp.

"Y'really trust me, huh?" he asks quietly.

"Of course." You swallow. "Hood, of course I trust you."

"Shit." A thumb on your lip. "Shit, smarty pie. Why y'trust me so easy?"

His accent is thick with exhaustion. You love it.

"You have a nice voice," you say unthinkingly.

"Goddamnit." He huffs. "You gotta go t'bed, sweetheart."

Your heart pounds. "Why?"

"'Cause otherwise I'm gonna kiss ya. And this whole thing is gonna go t'shit. And you're my favorite reporter."

You lean in. "Red—"

"No." He catches your cheek with his hand. "Bad reporter. Breach a' ethics."

"I'll let you," you say. "Do it, I won't stop you."

"This is the adrenaline talkin'. You were scared, that's why."

You shake your head. You've never been more sure of anything. But you have to make sure that he's sure.

You grab his wrist. "Are you thinking clearly? Are you high?"

"Wing gave me one painkiller, sweet. Takes at least three t'knock me out."

And that weighs you down for a moment, remembering that Hood isn't what you thought he was. He isn't a villain. He's a man who's known unfathomable amounts of pain. He's a man who's killed men. Who'd kill for you.

A man made of flesh and blood and scars and dark curls and a warm, warm neck and... and...

"Shit," Hood says.

And then he kisses you. For a second. Then he pulls back.

"Sorry," he whispers against your mouth. "Sorry, I—"

"No."

You pull him back, cupping the back of his neck. He makes a tiny noise. You start to speak, to worry, but Hood keeps you still with a hand on your arm.

His mouth is hot, a little uncoordinated, but sweet all the same. You're careful to follow his lead. His lips are chapped. He has a little scruff; you stroke his face. It suits him. Anything would.

You cannot turn away from this. From him. That is certain.

You pull away for breath and so you don't undo Nightwing's hard work. You listen to Hood's harsh breathing, pleased that you're the reason for it.

"Wait," he says. "Wait, l-lemme—"

Hood starts to pull off your blindfold. You grab it instantly.

"Red, no. Don't show me just because we kissed."

"But y'don't-don't even know what I look like. How d'you know I'm somebody y'wanna kiss?"

"Because I do. And I will kiss you in the dark for as long as you want me to. Don't do it just because you're afraid of losing me otherwise."

He draws circles on your cheek with his thumb. "Trusting me like that 's crazier than anything I've done, smarty."

"Well, don't we make quite the pair?"

"What, crazy?"

You smile. "I was thinking brave. But it is a fine line."

[loveinhawkins]

When Lucas Sinclair starts to apologise for missing The Cult of Vecna, Eddie initially thinks that he’s hearing things.

Well, actually, the first thing he thinks is something along the lines of ‘what the fuck are you talking about?’

It takes him almost a solid thirty seconds to even vaguely remember his campaign; the last day of school before Spring Break feels dreamlike, as if it happened to someone else, as if he just watched everything through a fogged-up window.

“Jesus, Sinclair. I’ve got an ongoing list of folks who owe me an apology since, like, sixth grade, and trust me, your name’s not on there. Can pretty confidently say it never will, okay?”

Eddie sees Steve tilt his head ever so slightly from where he’s walking just ahead of them, like he’s listening in. Spots his faint nod of approval.

Eddie can’t decide if he resents it or finds it endearing—kind of gets the ridiculous feeling that Steve’s vetting him on behalf of the kids.

“Okay,” Lucas says, and he’s smiling, but there’s a sort of sombreness to it, too. “Still, I should’ve—”

“Hey, hindsight’s twenty-twenty,” Eddie says, firmly cutting off whatever self-critical bullshit he was about to hear. He knocks his shoulder against Lucas’s, adds a dry, “Like, I would’ve been a dick about it no matter what.”

Lucas laughs, but it’s muted. Then he takes a deep breath, and Eddie suddenly realises that he must’ve been using the apology to get himself started, to work himself up to what he really wanted to say.

“I’m… I’m sorry about… about Jason and… I thought I’d thrown them all off the trail, but—”

“Oh, don’t—don’t worry about it, man,” Eddie says faintly.

There’s a flash of Jason in his mind’s eye, the savage twist of his lip as he ran into the lake; he thinks of Lucas lying to his face, the danger of him being found out, and feels sick.

“Seriously, you could’ve told them… y’know. Wouldn’t have held it against you.”

Eddie doesn’t mention that him getting caught still feels inevitable, like he’s just waiting for the walls to close in.

But right now, at least, he can breathe a little easier. The shire might be burning, but there’s people leading him through it. He’s not alone.

Lucas looks appalled. “What? No, I couldn’t—I couldn’t do that to you.”

It’s said with such conviction that Eddie has to fight through a sudden tightness in his throat—doesn’t really know what to do in the face of such undeserved loyalty.

He settles on saying, “So, how was the game?” which is embarrassingly inadequate, but a genuine question nevertheless; the past few… Jesus, however long it’s been, he’s been in permanent need of a distraction.

Steve slows his walking pace—to anyone else it might’ve seemed subtle, but Eddie’s used to noticing such things. He somehow gets the feeling that Steve is no longer scrutinising him, not exactly; his posture’s relaxed and open, his forehead free of frown lines.

It’s more like he’s simply curious about Eddie’s behaviour. The way his eyes drift over, then down to the forest floor, then back again silently seems to say what are you thinking?

Or maybe Eddie’s projecting because he asks the very same question whenever a muscle jumps in Steve’s jaw.

“Oh, um…” Lucas says hesitantly. “I was on the bench for most of it, so—”

“Quit being modest.” The quiet whir of a tape being rewound; Max Mayfield comes up to Lucas’s side. “He made the winning shot,” she tells Eddie pointedly. “It was a buzzer-beater.”

“Oh, holy shit. Well done, dude.”

From the way Lucas is staring at Max with wide eyes, it’s obvious that he’s barely registered what Eddie’s said.

“How do you know that?” he asks. “You… you weren’t at the game.”

“I, uh.” Max looks down for a moment, fiddling with the headphones around her neck. “I listened to it on the radio.”

Lucas smiles so brightly. There’s an earnestness to him; Eddie spotted it a mile away, ever since that first day back at school, when all the new freshmen were anxiously lining up to get lunch.

Max softens—her arms are still folded, but she drifts a little closer to Lucas as they walk, all studied casualness.

(Oh, Eddie’s been there before: forced to run track in middle school Phys Ed, and the only saving grace was ‘just so happening’ to run at the same pace as any boy who’d smile at him.)

Eddie catches Steve’s eye, and this time Steve gives him a very deliberate expression, nodding fondly at Max and Lucas.

Look at them, he’s saying with his eyes, as if he and Eddie are on the same team, as if Eddie at all deserves to be let in on whatever shared history Steve has with these kids.

Eddie kicks at a stray twig. You’re not going to get a lump in your throat about this, damn it, don’t be stupid.

“S’gonna be historic, Sinclair,” he says. “Last time the Tigers won a championship was, uh, lemme think… twenty-two years ago.”

Lucas stops in his tracks.

“I know that,” he says, eyes shrewd, “but why do you know?”

Eddie raises his hands with a grin, it wasn’t me, officer. “What, I can’t repeat a few years without retaining a little school knowledge?”

“Oh,” Lucas says, and it’s like Eddie can see him mentally replaying every cafeteria speech. He grins back. “So you’re a hypocrite.”

“Maybe,” Eddie says. He glances further afield, where Dustin is animatedly explaining something to Robin and Nancy. “I know you’re not gonna give me shit for it, though.”

“Huh, guess you don’t really know me,” Lucas says, and Max snorts.

Eddie smirks. “And it’s, like, doubly historic since the last person to score a buzzer-beater was—”

He cuts himself off, because Steve abruptly turns to him, like they’re in alliance, and draws a hand sharply across his neck.

But Lucas is already hooked. “What? Who was it?”

Eddie gives Steve a helpless shrug. Sorry, man.

“I’m looking right at him,” he says.

Lucas rounds on Steve. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because,” Steve says, flustered, “that was your thing, Lucas, I didn’t wanna be all…”

He trails off with a vague hand gesture, and Eddie thinks he somehow gets what he means—smiles at the thoughtfulness of it.

“That makes, like, no sense,” Lucas says vehemently. His eyes practically have stars in them. “Damn it, we shoulda got a photo.”

Steve laughs in surprise. “All right, noted.”

“I mean, Wheeler works for the school paper, right?” Eddie says. “They’ve probably got old issues. Hey, Sinclair, you could have, y’know, side-by-side photos. Yours and then…” He waves a hand at Steve. “Ancient history.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Ancient, sure.”

“Oh, Lucas,” Max says, batting her eyes excessively, “I’d frame a picture of you. Pray to it every night.”

Lucas blushes. “Shut up,” he says, elbowing her gently; Eddie thinks that it’s the first time he’s heard Max Mayfield laugh.

Steve’s watching over them again, and his eyes go pensive when Lucas mumbles something like, “I wouldn’t mind a frame.”

The expression Steve has is something Eddie’s only seen once before, and it was on Wayne’s face. Eddie had privately dubbed it the ‘found something for your birthday’ look when he’d noticed it: him and Wayne on a road trip, Eddie not so secretly mooning over the secondhand acoustic guitar in the shop window.

“Your picture should be bigger, Sinclair,” Steve says, sounding both teasing and sincere. “My shot didn’t win a Championship Game.” In an undertone, he adds, “As Brenda so helpfully reminded me.”

Oh, Eddie’s not letting that go.

“Do mine ears deceive me? Did you take a date to a high school basketball game?” Eddie cackles. “You sure know how to woo ‘em, Harrington.”

“Hey,” Steve says defensively, “she could only make that day. Told her I had non-negotiable plans: it was either the game or it was a bust.”

Huh, Eddie thinks, that’s actually… really sweet.

Lucas looks torn between being embarrassed or touched. “You didn’t need to do that, Steve.”

“Sure I did. C’mon, you thought I was gonna go to every match and then miss the Championship?” Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “Where was Erica, anyway?”

… Ah.

“Mea culpa,” Eddie says. “She was, uh, at Hellfire.”

Lucas scoffs. “It’s fine,” he says. “Last time she was at a game, she kept shouting that she loved my tactics.” He looks out into the middle distance. “I was on the bench the whole time.”

Steve chuckles. “Yeah, I missed her being there.” He’s sporting a smile that’s somehow the perfect balance of fond and mischievous; it, quite frankly, has no business looking as attractive as it does. “We had, um, alternative commentary for every game. That kid should have a radio show.” He comes closer, adds in another aside, “Would’ve made the date more bearable if she was there.”

Eddie stifles a laugh, has a moment of respectful silence for Brenda.

Max and Lucas cut in front, keep walking until they’re almost out of earshot; Eddie hears Lucas faintly say something that sounds like, “Was I totally tubular?”, soon drowned out by Max’s laughter.

There’s a short silence.

“Thanks, Eddie,” Steve says suddenly.

Eddie blinks at him, quickly turns his genuine confusion into a bit. “What for, Harrington? My devastating wit? Devilish good looks?”

Steve shakes his head. He smiles for a moment, in on the joke, but then he looks over at Lucas and Max again, and… there.

A muscle jumps in his jaw.

“It’s just… they’ve got a lot to carry, y’know? So…” He shrugs. “Thanks.”

It’s said so quietly, so without fanfare.

Eddie’s hit with the realisation between one footstep and the next: that he’s earned Steve Harrington’s trust.

It feels… weighty.

But Eddie doesn’t mind it; he doesn’t think it’s going to crush his ribs. If anything it feels like they’re sharing a load.

“Don’t gotta thank me for that, Harrington.”

Steve smiles, pushing back his hair; Eddie’s brought back to the moment he did the very same on the basketball court, just as the ball sunk through the net, and Eddie decided fuck it, wholeheartedly embracing his hypocrisy as he jumped up and down with the band kids.

I cheered so goddamn loud for you, Eddie thinks.

He doesn’t say it.

But he keeps walking next to Steve. Feels a little young, a little bit like he’s running track—checking his pace just so he could see a boy smile at him.

[deadsetobsessions]

AU of Gotham! Tim Drake! Danny where he doesn’t know the universe he was reincarnated into.

“Robin!” Batman barked. Tim sighed, loudly. Batman twitched.

“What is it, B?”

“Drills. Again.”

Tim rolled his eyes but moved to obey. Speaking to B these days was like speaking to a rather boorish caveman. Simple grunts and single word sentences. It didn't use to be like this but B was loosing his grip on his humanity and it’s Tim’s job to bring it back.

It’s hilarious because he’s the least human of them all. It was odd, juggling his duties as Danny Gotham, his responsibilities as Tim, and his workload as Bruce’s shiny new Robin. Somehow he made it work.

Yeah, sometimes B’s hands are heavy when they’re training. Sometimes he forgets Danny’s name (or at least his human name) and calls for Jason instead. Sometimes, he smells more like booze and less like Bruce.

Danny could handle it. Even if his core quivers with grief. He wished he didn’t have to, but he could and will handle whatever he needs to for his Knight to regain himself. But fuck, that doesn’t mean taking his self destructive habits lying down. He might be Tim right now, but as far as Batman knew, Tim was here on the orders of

“B.”

“Hm.”

Oh, a neutral grunt! I see we’ve upgraded to grunts instead of arm flapping! Holy detective, Batman! Aren’t I glad I learned to speak cave man? Wow! Tim mocked, in his head.

“You’re heading to bed when I’m done with this set,” Tim said.

“This case isn’t done,” Batman growled. Ancients, it was like speaking to a large chihuahua-toddler hybrid. All the barking, all the growling, and all the petulance of a child makes the entirety of how his Knight acted on a good day these days.

“That wasn’t a suggestion,” Tim shot back, sore arms and legs and everything working through the set. Thank the ancients for his healing, or else Tim might actually be dying.

“You don’t give me orders, Robin.”

“No, but Gotham does.” He would know, considering Tim was Gotham.

The head full of greasy- ew, take a shower, B!- hair swiveled towards him.

“You have a direct line to Gotham?”

Tim settled into the final forms of the night. “Gotham sent me. I thought we went over this.”

A beat of silence.

Batman returned to clacking away at the computer. Tim finished his set in relative peace. He moved to the cool down stretches while Batman sulked in front of his computer like a five year old.

“I’m done.” He said, crossing his arms.

“Hm.”

“That means you’re done, too.”

“I’m not tired.”

Tim rolled his eyes so hard, he thinks he saw the light. Oh, wait, that’s just Bruce’s last brain cell dying.

“You’re heading to bed. Good luck finding actual crime tomorrow, if you stay up.”

Batman stilled, because he knows Gotham would back Tim up on the threat. Considering the time sensitivity of some of these cases, Gotham’s anger is not something he could risk.

Tim patted himself on the back for effectively playing the good cop and the bad cop on his own. Except ACAB for life because they’re vigilantes and the GCPD as a whole (with exceptions) sucks ass.

He watched as Batman- as Bruce- reluctantly powered down the Bat-Computer. As he stood up, Tim wrinkled his nose.

“Never mind. You take a shower first. I’ll text Alfred.”

“Not necessary.”

“Okay, then you can explain to Gotham why you’re traipsing through his city looking a starved rat and smelling like you took a joy ride in Killer Croc’s excrement. Oh, wait.” Tim snapped, just about done being patient today. Tim whipped out his phone, texting Alfred with one hand and pointing towards the staircase with the other.

“Shower above ground, you weird little mole rat. No cave water for you.”

Bruce makes a weird offended grunt.

“I literally don’t care if you have to walk up to your room to shower in your boxers, B. Most of Gotham’s people don’t have access to a shower, let alone a million dollar bathroom. Fucking use your actual bathroom instead of hosing off.”

And with that, Batman and Bruce Wayne moved to the tune of a pre-teen, who was also, unknowingly to him, the spirit of his City.

——

“Go home.”

Tim smiled sweetly. Bruce paled. The scary, Gotham loved child patted Bruce’s hand as he sat beside Bruce’s bed.

“Sleep, before I make you.”

Bruce slammed his eyelids shut, anything to not look at Tim’s malicious looking eyes, and allowed himself- nay, forced himself- to rest for the first time in weeks since Jason died.

As Bruce’s dumb self drifted off to dreamland, Tim muttered, “Wuss.”

He settled himself into the chair, napping lightly to make sure Bruce doesn’t sneak out to work when he’s gone.

Alfred snapped a quick picture.

[millyhelp]

Jason having his girlfriend who happens to be a doctor, so he simply has a personal nurse for whenever he gets hurt (and I'm sure he always thanks her with a few kisses and... more)

WOW WOW!! I just love it! Doc reader is just amazing! I think that I will do more of it (It's my dream job, by the way)

warnings: cuts, swearing, injured Jason, doctor reader, cute moments, fluff.

Jason was hurt and tired. He knows he should let you rest because you would have to take a 14-hour shift at the hospital in the morning. But, you woke up to Jason's noise in the living room.

"Fuck." Jason hissed in pain as he cleaned the large gash on his left arm.

"Jace?..." your sleepy voice caught his attention and he turned to look at you.

"Princess? Oh shit, did I wake you up?" He speaks with a worried voice, but you approach him. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Jace. What happend to you?" You looked around and saw several blood-stained cotton balls on the floor, on the living room coffee table and on the sofa. "You know, you should have woken me up"

"I would never. You have to work in the morning." He sighed, still in pain.

"You have a bad cut there, you need stitches." You picked up the needle and stitch thread. "I already told you to wake me up to take care of you. We'll talk about it later, let me take care of you now."

Jason shut up and just watched you do everything. He loves it when you take care of him, he feels loved like that. When the needle came into contact with his skin, Jason cursed under his breath.

"Holy fuck-" A shaky sigh left his lips.

"Do you want me to stop? I can try to get local anesthesia for there" you said affectionately and Jason felt his heart melt.

Every time you ask the same question, but the reality is that Jason is already used to the pain after broken bones and horrible cuts and finally death.

"No, angel. I'm fine, keep going" he smiled at you and looked at your sweet, focused face.

While you were sewing, Jason let out sighs but never stopped looking at your face. He felt lucky. Dating a doctor, intelligent and very sweet and beautiful. He didn't deserve you.

"I love you." He said when you finished.

You looked at him and smiled.

"I love you too." You said in a sweet tone. Jason gently pulled you to him by your waist. He placed kisses on your stomach and sat you on his lap.

"I'm happy to know that I have a private doctor." he joked. "I should pay you for that, right?"

"I do charity work too, I don't need to be paid." You giggle and Jason steals a kiss from your lips. "But if you want too..."

"Oh. I want too." Jason smiles and kiss you again. "But now, you gotta sleep. When you return from duty tomorrow, I will reward you"

"hmmm promise?" Jason picked you up and lifted you up bridal style.

"I promise." You snuggled into his chest and he carried you to the bed.

Jason felt like the luckiest man in the world when he looked at you. He really was.

JASON IS SO CUTE AAAAH

[spacedace]

Yo here have this dp x dc snippet from ages ago I forgot I wrote until I found it just now lol:

Joker had died just after sunset, when darkness had settled fully on Gotham. Beaten horribly with a blunt, metal object of sickeningly familiar description, then finally killed in the concussive force of an explosion from the various bombs the warehouse had been filled with.

It felt obvious who it had to be.

Except, of course, that Dick was looking at cctv footage and official court documents showing just how fucking impossible it was for Jason to have finally taken the clown out for good.

At the time everything had to have happened his little brother was across the city, in a public place, with official witnesses.

Official, official witnesses. They - one Margaret Tinsel - had signed their name as such, right next to their notary stamp and the date on the marriage license.

Marriage License.

Because Jay had been over at the courthouse next to city hall getting married.

Dick only found out he’d been dating Jasmine Nightingale a couple of weeks ago. He hadn’t even properly met her yet, just saw her from the roof across the street as she and Jay sat on her fire escape sharing a pint of ice cream, laughing and looking stupidly adorable and smitten with each other. And now they’re married.

How in the fuck was he going to explain this? Bruce was already spiraling on the idea that Jay had killed Joker, he’d want specific details on just how tight of an alibi Jason had for the crime. He’d want to see that proof himself.

And then he’d want to talk to Jay. Who hadn’t told any of them what the fuck was going on in his personal life. Who had very purposefully tried to keep Jasmine Nightingale - shit, no she applied for a name change, they both had, they were both Nightingale-Todd now - away from the family and their meddling.

Babs on the other end of the line seemed to share his utter loss over the situation.

“I did some digging.” She said, drawn out enough to let him know that whatever she found - while not bad - sure as shit wasn’t going to make things any easier to explain. “They’ve uh…as best I can tell, they’ve been dating for about three years now.”

Three years.

Jesus Christ. How in the hell is he going to break that news? Did he even break that news? That’s something that Jay should do.

Except Jay just got married less than two hours ago at the same time the Joker was violently - and karmically satisfyingly - murdered and there was absolutely no way that letting Bruce go over there to talk to Jay while all Batman-ed up was going to lead to anything but a fight, which means that he has to break that news or else Jay and his new wife - his wife holy fucking shit - are going to have to deal with a pissed off Batman on their honeymoon and -

“Oh.” Tim said from where he’d come to stand at Dick’s shoulder at some point during his internal freak out. “I guess they decided to do the courthouse thing after all.”

The train wreck of Dick’s thought process, at that point, entirely exploded.

[cocopop-04]

“So not as much of a rule follower as you pretend to be, are you?” Jason said one night, purposely trying to sound more curious than mocking, as if he wanted to keep the peace just as much as Tim did. They hadn’t yet talked about what had happened that first encounter, but it seemed like they would tonight.

Tim snorted out a laugh. “I used to sneak out and follow Batman around on his patrols. I blackmailed him into making me Robin. What part of any of this spelled out ‘rule follower’ to you?”  

Jason laughed, but the sound trailed off into silence.

“You know, I never apologized,” Jason said after a while. “When I came back, my head was all fucked, and then Talia was there telling me everything was all your fault. But you didn’t deserve all that. Sorry.”

“Thanks,” Tim said, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “You know, you were my Robin, growing up. My hero. And so yeah, it hurt, the whole tower thing – more than just getting the shit beaten out of me, anyway,” Tim added with a wry look.

“But I understood, too. You were basically driven insane by the pit – ”

“Still am, too,” Jason interrupted to say.

Tim glared and continued. “I knew you weren’t fully in control of your actions. So, I forgave you. Plus, it’s not like I haven’t done worse to anyone – though I did it to the people who deserved it.”

“How’d you even end up killing someone, anyway?” Jason asked.

Tim grinned and adopted a storytelling tone. “I was ten - ”

Beside him, Jason spluttered in shock. “That is not how you start a murder recount. Holy shit, really?”

Tim playfully glared at the man across from him. “Yes, now quiet. I was ten, and I followed you and Batman into Crime Alley.”

“Fuck.”

“Do you want to hear this or not?” Tim asked.

From my fic Fallen Heroes on ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51847429

[sonicfanthenightfury5099]

Slashers thoughts on Butt Stuff

Minors DNI 18+

Had this idea brewing in my head and wanted to write it down. Also, I have a feeling that RZ Michael is an Ass man

Slashers: Michael Myers (OG and RZ), Jason Voorhees, The Sinclair Twins, Thomas Hewitt, and Brahms Heelshire

CW: Anal sex, Watersport (from RZ Michael), and Near accidents

Michael Myers

You think about Spicing Up you and Michael's relationship

You and Him were on the couch watching a show re-run on TV when you had to ask him about your idea through his ear

WHAT?!!

WHAT THE FUCK?!!

Michael was in shock,"You want me to put my dick in there???" He asked with wide-eyes

He may need time before committing to the idea

Getting into bed, he started to eat you out, Savoring his tongue inside you. "You still want me to fuck your ass?" Michael asked in between eating you out, "What?" You asked as he put his finger in his mouth. "Give you Anal." He said as he sticks his finger into your bum, making you squirm as he fucks you with his hand.

"Oh God yes, please fuck my ass Michael." You said as you flip to your stomach and spread your cheeks as far as you can. Michael had to take it slow, starting to rim you, making you moan from the sensation. Spitting on the entrance to make it wet, easier to slip in. Sliding into your pussy he wanted to use your slick to make it feel good. Lining his tip up with your ass, he slowly pushed in.

You gasps from the stretching of Michael's cock, it was feeling so good. Michael groaned from how tight your ass was around him. It took him a bit before he started thrusting. You squealed from the new form of pleasure, Michael was going at you with his pace he loves to make you feel amazing when having sex.

"Oh God, Michael, I'm going to cum it feels so good." You said as he picked up the pace. "Fuck, I'm not too far either. God your making me cum so soon with ass play." Faster and Harder he wanted to each his climax from the tightening of your ass. You screamed in pleasure as your orgasm ripped through your body, and with Michael not far behind, he felt his legs shaking as cums into your ass.

Taking a breather from how interested both your orgasm were as he lays on top of you. "Holy Fuck, that was incredible." You said, "Fuck my legs are shaking from that intense orgasm. I think busted more than usual." Michael said. "Hun, do you want to quickly clean yourself? I'm so wet from the first round." You said with a smile. Michael nodded as he pulled out. A wet pop was made as his seed leaked out of your ass. "I'll be back." Michael said as he kissed your forehead before making his way to the bathroom.

Jason Voorhees

I'M SORRY WHAT??!

You want me to do that with you??

Are you sure I wouldn't tear your butt-hole? I mean, it's quite big, and you're who ha handles it really well

OK, maybe another day

Jason didn't know how to let you know he wants to do the thing you mentioned a few days ago. You were on top as you kissed his lips as he held your hips. He slipped your pj shorts to start to finger your pussy, you moaned as you felt his finger massaging your walls. He slipped his wet finger and placed it on your other hole before pushing it in.

You knew what he was implying. Your suggestion from a few days ago. "Do you wanna try it?" You asked him, and he nodded in reply.

Get into position on the bed he placed one hand on your hip as he placed his weeping tip above your ass, letting his pre-cum make your butt-hole wet enough. Slowly pushing himself into your hole, the stretch felt so good you couldn't help but shake in pleasure as Jason was completely inside

Being careful as he can, Jason thrusts into you hold as he felt how tight it was, even tighter than your pussy. You moaned in pleasure as Jason pushed in and out of Anal opening. He started to pick up the pace as the fiction was making him close to cumming.

You started to rub at your nub as you felt your orgasm near. Before you know it, you felt your Orgasm came as you squirt, Jason moaned as he released his semen into you. Having a breather from the round, Jason pulled out before something was lurking, not too far behind. "Oh God, Jason. You loosen me up." You said as you bolted to the bathroom holding it in.

Jason just stands in the bedroom, wided-eyed, realizing that you nearly had an accident on bed.

Michael Myers RZ

You want Michael to go all out with your "other hole" so you go on to tell him

What took you so long? "You know I always put my fingers in there to make you squirm on my Cock."

Michael wastes no time in taking you to the bedroom. Getting you naked and going to town on your ass, he stripped down and started rimming. You were already squirming before he's even in. Spitting on your hole, it doesn't take too long to put his finger in while putting is cock in your pussy. "Fuck, Michael." You said as he gives you an appetizer before the main course, "Give me a little sugar to lube me even more." He said as he pulled out.

A mix of drool and pre-cum fell on the sheets as you suck on him. He watched as you took him full without gagging, "Now, time for what you're waiting for." Michael said as he pulled out of your mouth before you got into position. Spreading your ass cheeks, he pushed his heavily lubed up Dick into your anus before pounding away.

You screamed in pleasure as his shaft moved back and forth, making you open up a bit more. Until he pulled out, thinking he was already cumming till you felt something warm landing on you. "MICHAEL WHAT THE FUCK??!!" You Blurted out at your tall man who stopped his waterworks. "Figured you wanted a small golden shower." Michael said with a smirk, "Not at this moment, go to the bathroom geez. And bring a towel before leaving." You said he made his way to the bathroom. This wasn't the first time he had done that nor his last.

"Now, where we." Michael said as he placed you on to his dick before fucking you standing up. "Fuck, I could cum twice in ypur tight ass." He remarked as he pounds away.

Becoming a babbling mess from pleasure, it didn't take too long before you had an Orgasm. Michael continued long till, once, twice, and until finally cumming. After a short period, he started up again, trusting with his semen acting as lube. He wasn't kidding about wanting to cum in your tight ass twice. "Oh fuuuuck, you're so tight. I could cum again any minute." He said as he held your legs.

Once, twice, another Orgasm ripped through your body, and his followed closed behind as he came once again. He fell back into the bed, exhausted and panting Michael, and yourself on the bed. Michael slowly pulled out as his cum leaked out. "Holy Fuck, I'm beat." You said in between breathing, Michael kissed your neck, "You want to have a break before going again?" He asked as he rubbed your tummy.

"Yes." You replied as you both readjust on the bed.

Bo Sinclair

Being with Bo for so long, you want to spice up your sex life

When you're both alone, you tell him your idea

Oh Kinky

You wanna do some Anal, eh?

"Didn't know you're where that experimental like that darlin." He said in remarked of your proposal. "Say, Why don't you make your way into the bedroom, and I'll meet'cha there?" Bo asked with a sneaky grin on his face as you started towards your shared room while Bo started to move off the couch to catch up to you.

After a little wetness was placed in the right spot, Bo slipped in with ease as you shaked as he stretched your anal opening.

Bo groaned as he thrusts, feeling the tight walls around his cock. He could cum any second from how tight you where. You moaned and gasped as he started to pick up the pace. "Fuck, Bo, Fuck me, Fuck my ass." You moaned, "God, your going to make me cum so soon darlin." He groaned.

Just as you're reaching your climax, Bo followed closed by as he released his load into you. You panted as your body fell on the bed when your arms gave out. Feeling his hand smacked your ass as he pulled after finishing. "Such a good girl you are." Bo said as he kissed your back.

Vincent Sinclair

You and Vincent have been together for nearly a year now

You want to make your sexy times a little more

When you both do some foreplay you tell Vincent your idea

Hold on what?

Vincent had to process the idea, Anal sex? You want to do that instead of the normal routine?

Vincent wasn't sure if he was going to like anal sex, but being a man who changes his mediums in his art, he may try it out of curiosity.

Using lube, you bought a few months ago to make it easy for him to slip in. He put a little more on his finger before slipping it in. Curling his fingers as he was fingering you before slipping in his other finger. Starting to fuck you with his fingers, "Oh Vince." You said as you held the pillow on his bed.

Slipping his fingers out before lining himself up, leaning down towards your ear, he said a hush tone, "Just breathe." Vincent slipped in your Anus

You moaned as Vincent started to slowly trust, being gentle as he does. A throaty groan as he kisses your shoulder. Vincent started to move a little faster, the sounds of skin smacking against skin is always intoxicating when you both have sex. Vincent felt how tight your ass is, feeling every inch going back and forth as he started to pick up the pace.

"Oh God, Vincent." You said as you held on tight to pillow as he held tight. He was getting closer and closer to orgasm. You pushed back into him to push his dick further in till your legs shake as you came. Vincent continued thrusting, back and forth, and paused as his orgasm came. Pulling out before he could finish, letting the rest of his semen land on your legs.

Kissing your cheek before he went to go grab a towel before continuing your night.

Thomas Hewitt

Him being a big guy he can get pussy drunk, he always keep the special time feel like the first time

When it's just you and him, you tell him about your idea for spicing up the bedroom

HUH??!

Tommy is so confused about it

You want to have sex in your butt??

"Come on, Tommy. Let's do something new while we're alone for a month." You said as you gently yanked on his tie. His cheeks got red from that comment. He knows that his mama, Charlie and Monty, are gone for a month to visit family in North Texas. Oh what the hell I guess we should experiment, he thought.

Leading upstairs to your share room to get down and dirty.

He definitely needs a good release. He had a hard on that hurt like crazy.

Stripped down to your bare skin, he decided to eat you out to have your wetness dripping to your other hole. He was a bit scared of hurting you, so he has to use as much slick as he can. Using one of his thick fingers to insert your anus to add more wetness. You got into place as he rubbed his cock before he started to insert himself into you.

Thomas, being a big guy he was staring to have trouble getting in. "Oh jeez." You said as you hear your husband trying and failing in trying to enter. A frustrated huff as he spits above your anus as he tried again. You decide to help by pushing him inside before you both know it. His tip finally slipped in.

You gasps as the fiery stretch continues as Thomas finally pushes all the way in. He had to pause from your whimpering. He felt how tight your ass was around his shaft, but he had to wait till you gotten used to his size. When you were ready, he started to thrust, slowly and carefully.

You felt his dick moving back and forth as you moaned and groaned from the new sensation. "Tommy." You said as he started to pick up the pace, he moaned in pleasure as he rubbed your sides. Leaning down, he kissed at the crook of your neck as being careful not to hurt or tear anything while experimenting.

An hour passed by the time you and Thomas finished having your new experience. His semen leaking out of your now expanded anus on to the sheets. Thomas rubbed your sore bum as your head on his chest.

"I think we should do this not too often, so I'm not sore afterwards." You said, Thomas grunt as in agreement with that.

I think you're going to need a pillow before sitting.

Brahms Heelshire

He's taken a back from what you asked him

"You want me to do what??"

It's it supposed to be where you know what comes out of??

People like doing that?? I didn't like it when you tried to stick your fingers up where the sun doesn't shine.. 😖

"I don't know if I'll like it compared to you." He said underneath his mask.

"Come on, Brahmsy. Don't you always get curious about how the other hole can bring pleasure?" You asked him as you lightly squish his jaw line with one hand. "What if it will hurt??" He asked. "Unless you lube it up really well." You replied.

Later

After a bit of trial and error, Brahms managed to get inside your anus as he thrusts in your large intestine so quickly from the new sensation.

"Bloody hell, feels really good." He said through shakey breaths. You moaned from his quick thrusts. At one point, he slipped out, but he quickly pushed himself back in before continuing thrusting

"Oh Hell, Y/N, Im going to cum." Brahms said as he picked up the pace under he pulled out and painted your back with his semen as your orgasm came to an end. "Oh Crap." You said as you quickly bolted to the bathroom. Confused, Brahms went to the door where you were in. "You alright love?" He asked.

"Yeah, you just loosen me up a bit." You replied

Brahms realized what you meant by that.

===============================

Didn't know how to finish up with Brahms part, but I went quick cause my right hand has been hurting for a week now. Anyways

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Discovered Disowned!Verse today and I’m absolutely feral about it. Holy shit it’s so good. Another crumb of the story please whenever you can? I can’t get enough.

"Let's go-"

"I think the fuck not," Dick snorted."

"Why not?" Bruce demanded.

"One, you're lucky she let you in her house. Two, let's NOT antagonize Jason's wife AT WORK. I don't think it will help. Especially not after we kept her from getting laid on her lunch break."

"Hn."

"How else was she gonna put him to work?" Dick said rolling his eyes. "He would have had a hand full of her ass if you weren't there and they were probably going to fuck until right before the kids got home" It was a crude. And he was being mean. Bruce was never super comfortable with any of them growing up. But he deserved to squirm a little... and he wanted to call and tell you about it.

Anything to be a fun uncle. Especially now that there's gonna be a baby to buy Nightwing merch for. He's never been anyone's favorite and if he starts this one really early... he can annoy his little brother AND get a new crew of little buddies. He also had a new appreciation for you. You'd been cold before, but- he'd understood then and he understood better now.

And he'd be lying if he said watching you tell Bruce to sit down and shut the fuck up talking to you without saying that- glaring at him until he sat there and drank sweet tea and nibbled shortbread without fumbling for contrition- wasn't immensely gratifying.

"Hn."

"We're going home," Dick said, "You have a date or something tonight anyway." And, Dick added silently, Alfred wants to know what happened.

[redflagshipwriter]

Red Hot Ghouls

Chapter 12 part 2/2

masterpost

Danny leaned forward. “I am listening.” His grip tightened on his drink unintentionally until the plastic creaked. He withdrew his other hand from the bag of chips fragments and rolled the top of the bag shut.

She lifted a finger. “Option one is pretty selfish, in my opinion. But it would work. You could banish him from the Infinite Realms. Assuming he either never dies or dies and does not become a ghost, there are no consequences for this!” She made a cheerful gesture and crinkled her eyes shut along with a grin.

‘She’s so scary sometimes.’

“Assuming he never dies,” Danny repeated incredulously. He put his hands in his hair without even thinking of how he was seasoning himself with salt and vinegar. “Jazz- bestie, I don’t think we should bet on that one. I guess I could ask him if he feels like he’d be really good at not dying?” His voice lilted up. He touched the phone in his pocket, thinking about texting just that. Then he remembered that he was annoyed with Jason for hunting him down as Danny Fenton. He didn't know how Jason did that, but it was rude!

‘Should I tell her that he knows that?’ Danny absently wondered. ‘I don't know what he thinks. It can't be the right thing. Maybe he thinks I'm possessed or something. Maybe disguised, like Sinestra.’

She shrugged unrepentantly. “I said it was kinda selfish. It would totally solve your issue. No connection to the Infinite Realms would mean no channel for the bond between your souls-”

“Ew!”

“Or- okay, how are souls gross?” Jazz demanded.

Danny exaggerated his disgusted face even harder. “Uh, I don’t know, that’s a romantic and unscientific concept that I don’t believe in and feel offended by.” He crossed his arms across his chest to distance himself from that yucky shit. Ugh. Nasty.

“Soul is the literal term used in the reference books, so.” Jazz said dryly, as if that proved a point. Danny rolled his eyes but let it go. “My preferred option is that you marry him properly.”

Danny inhaled once. He steepled his fingers in front of his face.

His sister waited him out patiently, but he could tell that she was internally laughing at him.

“I wouldn't say that's a solution,” Danny finally managed to get out calmly. “Do you see how marrying the guy might be considered an escalation of the unwanted engagement?”

Jazz snickered and held up a hand. “See, that's the thing, you're not engaged. You're fully settled into your current relationship.”

His jaw dropped. “I’m what now?” His stomach lurched violently.

Jazz gave him a little bit of pity but she kept going. “You technically accepted the offering when you took him into your custody.”

Right. He got there and invited Jason into the Specter Speeder. He even took him into the castle. Shit.

‘This is my fault. How can I tell him that?’

He closed his eyes. He took another deep breath and put his hands over his face. “I need a minute,” he managed to get out through his fingers.

‘If I had just left him the fuck alone, I wouldn't have had to deal with this at all. I could have minded my own business. Maybe he would have gotten out of the Ghost Zone on his own, I don't know. I'm not his keeper.’

Oh. Danny winced again and drew his knees up so that he could think his head against it.

He was Jason's keeper. Holy fuckin crap. That weird sacrifice ritual had put Danny in a very real position of both power and stewardship over Jason.

‘I’m missing something,’ Danny realized, and felt like he might throw up. ‘It has to have an impact I don't know about. There's always a catch. But the catch isn't at my expense. What did I do to Jason?’

“Danny?” Jazz had switched to her softest voice. She put a hand on his shoulder. “You've been turtling for a while. What are you thinking?”

Danny bit his lip for a second. He lifted his face a little to watch her face. “There's no way something this messed up doesn't have a serious drawback for Jason. His consent wasn't required at any point. I've got some kind of leverage over him.” He felt a cold dread crawling up his back.

Saying it aloud made him feel like he had a literal rock in his stomach, and he would know! He'd eaten a moon rock before just to see what it was like, and then a few Earth rocks so he could make a useful comparison.

“Oh, Danny.” Jazz tugged him in for a half hug. “Yeah. I know. Do you wanna know the details?”

He drew his shoulders in closer. His chest felt tight. He should say yes. He was a coward for wanting to avoid knowing the details.

“We can come back to that later.” Jazz rubbed at his back. “It's okay.”

“Ahuh,” Danny choked out, thinking about Ember using her hypnotism to make him obsessed with Sam. Thinking about Sam made him think about Freakshow.

He clutched at his chest. It hurt, it felt tight. He swallowed hard. His heart rate started to climb. “I can't do this, Jazz,” he bit out. “I can't- I can't have control over another person like that-”

“Right, right, of course. That's what I mean.” Jazz fully folded him into a hug and pressed hard. He clung to the physical distraction, grounding himself in here and now. “That's what I mean. If you marry him, ghost wise or human side, that upgrades the relationship to one on equal footing. From there, you can dissolve it.”

Danny let out a humorless laugh. “And all I gotta do is get him to marry me, when what he wants is to get away.” He felt a headache coming on. “I think that if I was him, I'd think that was a trick or a trap.”

Jazz winced. “Yeah. Maybe so.”