#I just realized that both of Dick's handles are too long... but fuck it I'm keeping them anyway

[theerurishipper]

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Part 1 <- Part 2 -> Part 3

Masterpost

[seventeenpins]

a slight miscalculation - pt. i

pairing: Joel x F!Reader

word count: 8.3k

summary: Sarah is off to college, and Joel is about to be living in an empty nest. They road trip out together, and as she spends her first night in her new apartment, he's staying in a nearby hotel. Letting go of his inhibitions for the first time in a long time, he tumbles into a one night stand that becomes very complicated, very quickly.

content/warnings: smut, age gap, mycologist!reader, dick sucking, implied pussy eating, fingering, no outbreak au, reader likes to hike, reader also infodumps, joel miller has a big cock, he also has anxiety, reader has anxiety too, and a cat, reader is in early 20s--exact age not established, one (1) use of daddy, alcohol and weed consumption, joel is a diligent condom wearer, set in present day, discussion of girl scout cookies, joel is sweet and soft and hasn't been eviscerated by the death of his daughter

a/n: I'm intending this to be about five parts. This may change, but right now it's looking like five. I've been struggling to write for a while, unable to focus, but I think I'm back at it? as always, your feedback is hugely appreciated, and i'm kissing all likers and commenters and rebloggers deeply and with tongue 🩷

check out pt. ii

For the first time in nineteen years, Joel is completely adrift. Sarah's starting college in just two months.

It's the kind of realization that hits him like a bucket of ice water, a sudden shock and then an unpleasant trickling of anxiety wrapping about him in nasty tendrils. And then he feels guilty, because he's so, so happy for Sarah because he knows that she's thrilled, but fuck she's gonna be two time zones away and now what's Joel meant to do on Thursday movie nights when he's here without her?

It's terrifying, and it's new. And it's not that he's new to anxiety. He's usually anxious, and he has the Sertraline on his bedside stand to prove it. But if his general anxiety baseline usually hovered around a 6.4, where he was at now far surpassed a 10. It felt exponential, and totally exhausting.

When he voices his fears to Tommy, to Joel's horror, Tommy just doubles over in laughter.

"Jesus, Joel," he wheezes, wiping fake tears from his eyes in exaggerated movements, "You looked so serious I thought you were gonna say you'd killed someone."

Joel scowls. "The fuck you laughing for?"

"She's going to college, it's not like she's dying!"

"How'm I gonna be there for her? What if she needs me? What if-"

"Joel-," Tommy pats him gently on the shoulder, "She can always call you, and you can always call her. And we both know she's got a good head on 'er shoulders."

Joel snorts in concession. "Yeah, yeah. Better than yours and mine put together, and then some."

"Exactly." Tommy agrees, "And if there's ever anything that really goes wrong, you got me. We can drive out together and make sure she's okay."

Joel nods and feels the tiniest bit of tension leave him. One step at a time.

Just over nineteen years ago he found out he was about to be a dad. Suddenly, he had a purpose. Having a kid at twenty-two wasn't something he'd ever intended, but somehow he knew he loved his baby girl from the moment he knew she was a possibility. He spent a solid seven months running around, hustling, doing everything he could to get the very best for his kid. He'd take on doubles, working himself to the bone to make sure they had the best crib, and the best stroller, too. He was thrilled and terrified and so, so green.

Now, his heart feels so big he doesn't know how to handle it. His baby girl is an honest-to-god adult, moving out and going to college, and he has no idea what he's gonna do with his time now.

He has work, of course. But beyond that? He's really gotta to widen his circle, he realises, because who's he gonna hang out with? His brother?

He'd only just turned forty-one and had absolutely not come to terms with an empty nest--the few friends from high school he'd kept in touch with were so much further behind than him. The ones that had kids had them later in their twenties and thirties, and now they're raising middle schoolers while Joel's kid is a real fucking person, leaving home and everything. All the scrapping and saving he'd been doing since before Sarah was born–for his little girl to be able to follow any dream she chose–it was finally paying off. The precocious young woman she is, she graduated early and spent nearly a year working retail to save up some cash. She'd applied to colleges all across the country, and a few international ones, too. Joel had been crossing his fingers for months, hoping she'd choose something near Austin, but cheered with her all the same when she got her acceptance letter from Oregon State University. The previous summer, just before she'd started her applications, she and Joel and Tommy spent a miserable, wonderful week hiking round the Pacific Northwest. She fell in love with it, and the university offered a few of the majors she wanted to consider.

Joel didn't know what he'd do with his baby girl so far away, his life, his reason, but he sure as hell wasn't gonna tell her that. He will not clip her wings. His baby's gonna change the world and he's not gonna hold her back. He is, though, gonna require regular phone calls and check-ins and god they grow up so fast.

"Y'all should road trip out there," Tommy suggests one night over the dinner table.

Joel knew the conversation of how Sarah would get to the West Coast would come up, and it oughta be sooner rather than later. He was half afraid that she wanted to head out on her own, that she didn't need her dad anymore. Worried she would say she wanted to get a plane ticket, or take the Amtrak all the way to Corvallis. But he knows he needs to loosen his grip a little, so he braces himself when he turns to her.

"What'dya think, Sarah? You wanna be stuck in a car with your old man for a cross-country trip?"

Sarah rolls her eyes, but her face breaks into a grin. "Can we, Dad?"

This was too good to be true, he knew, but he wasn't gonna give up one last opportunity to spend some time with his girl till winter break.

"Course, baby," he tells her, and that flicker of anxiety quells just the tiniest bit.

The next few weeks fly by, and the knot of anxiety in Joel's chest feels like it's consuming him from the inside out. He's taken some time off, more than Sarah or Tommy can remember, but he's constantly trying to suggest ideas for activities to Sarah. For the most part, she's a good sport, understanding how much it means to her dad. She took pity on him, and let him drag her to places that ideally she would've gone to when she was little, but she humored him and he appreciated her dedication. He did his best to step back when she was heading out to spend time with friends--her time here was limited, after all, and she was always a social butterfly.

There are five weeks till classes start, four weeks, three, two, and in the blink of an eye, they're loading up the truck with all of Sarah's things, and Tommy is hugging Sarah goodbye, teary eyed. He gives Joel a hug, too. Joel would never admit it, but fuck he had really needed that hug.

They would take the scenic route. Make a memorable trip of it. Joel would make sure she settles in safe and sound, and then he'd head home.

6am Sunday.

You wake with a start. It's just over a week before term starts and your entire body aches. Fuck, you think to yourself, definitely overdid it with that last hike.

(The hiking part wasn't itself a problem, but one of the trails had washed out. You thought you'd found your way, but the "easy" three and a half mile hike took about five hours, leaving your calves bruised and your heels blistered.)

You roll over in your hotel room bed and, at the sound of a slight yelp followed by a gentle thud, realise with a sudden start that you just catapulted your cat off the corner.

"Shit, sorry goblin," you tell Spatula, who glares up at you with disdain as he licks at his paw. You reach down and, despite your inadvertent cat launch, he immediately rubs up against your fingertips and lets you scratch behind his ears.

"I'm sorry, baby," you soothe.

He meows, loudly. Howls, really. You take it as an apology accepted.

You sit up properly and look at your phone calendar. Nothing immediate. You don't need to get keys to your new apartment till tomorrow, nor do you meet your roommates till then–they're both moving in today, and moving is already horrible without having to navigate around the belongings of two other people. No, thanks. You can afford one more night at the hotel, and it'll make everything go that little bit more smoothly tomorrow. Besides, you have a bit of reading you'd like to get through, maybe stock up on non-perishables till you have a full-sized fridge, and get to know the city just a little.

You move gingerly, testing the ache in your muscles as you unfold yourself from the position you've been sat in and pull yourself from the bed. It hurts, but not something that won't be fixed with a little movement.

A plan forms. First, a walk, to try and loosen up your tight muscles. Then, errands. You have a whole list, with everything categorised by store, but then you enter IKEA and exit fifteen minutes later, only to find that five and a half hours have passed and it's evening now.

How was it that IKEA harnessed such a malicious power. How could anything harness that?

You need a fucking break. And a goddamn drink.

"Hey Dad," Sarah calls from the adjacent bedroom as Joel sweats, hauling another box towards her. The drive has been good, but it has been long. His legs ache. His back aches. There are parts of him that he didn't know existed that now ache.

"Yeah?" he calls back.

"Are you sure you're okay with me staying here tonight?"

Joel lets out a breath. He wants to be okay with it. And there's no way his nineteen year old would want to hang out with her dad when she could be spending the very first night in her brand new apartment. But he also wishes she wanted to spend one last night, hanging out in a hotel room with her dad. They could watch shitty movies together. Make the most of the final night before this cataclysmic shift.

But no.

That'd just be him being selfish. He can handle a night by himself. He's gotta handle a whole lotta them soon enough.

"O'course baby," he nods, hoping the smile he's plastered on his face looks totally genuine. "But we're still doin' breakfast in the morning, right?"

She nods, vigorous, and then waves her phone around. "I was looking up places! There's a diner called Tommy's," she laughs, "Wanna try that? 9:30?"

"Let's do it," he smiles, and this one is a little less forced.

"How much more do we have?" Sarah asks, nodding towards the box Joel's still holding.

"Last box," he grunts, "What else can I help with?"

He places the box down and lets out a slight, almost silent whimper. Sarah catches it, though.

"Maybe you should take it easy the rest of the day, Dad," she tells him, "We both know you have old man back."

He rolls his eyes but nods. "Guess you're right," he shrugs, "That my cue to take off?"

Sarah blushes but turns to him sheepishly. "Yeah, I-"

"No need to explain," Joel assures, "I know you must wanna get unpacked and settle in, get to know your roommates an' all."

She jumps up and, almost startling him, wraps her arms around him in a bear hug.

"Love you, dad," she grins, and she squeezes just a little tighter than usual.

He squeezes back, and they both pretend there aren't tears in his eyes.

As you step through the doors of the hotel bar, you decide you like it. The lighting is comfortably low. It's not loud, but it's not quiet, either. Colorful bottles line the shelves, the light of the filament bulbs glinting off the glass in rainbow prisms.

You take a seat at the bar and give a nod of thanks as the bartender passes you a small menu. It's unsurprisingly extortionate, hotel bar and all, but it'll do.

"Old fashioned, please," you tell the bartender, who nods in response. A minute later, he hands you a glass, delivered with a twist of orange and a cherry on top.

With your first sip, you feel your shoulders start to relax and some of the tension loosen from your body. The warmth of the burn envelops you and your stress starts to unravel, leaving only the buzz feeling good.

You order a second, and as the glass is handed to you, a voice to your right catches your attention.

"This seat taken?" a man asks.

You shake your head and offer a quick smile, gesturing towards it, "All yours."

"Much obliged," he nods, and slips into the backless stool next to yours.

The bartender comes over and passes him the same menu, but without looking at it he asks, "Could I get an old fashioned?"

You smile and catch his eye, tipping your glass towards him. "An excellent choice," you praise, "Though if you don't have a sweet tooth, I'd recommend asking Jeff there if he can go easy on the simple syrup."

"Oh yeah?" He asks, and then he leans in conspiratorially. "T'tell you the truth, I do have a bit of a sweet tooth."

You raise an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

Suddenly, he breaks into a grin and it's dazzling.

"Yeah," he laughs, "I've got cookies stashed in secret locations all through my house."

You raise an eyebrow. "If I keep 'em in my pantry, my brother'll find 'em and eat 'em all," he explains, "But ever since my kid was a girl scout, I always get cravings for girl scout cookies, so I buy an armful o'boxes and try and preserve 'em throughout the year, till I can replenish."

"What's your favorite girl scout cookie?"

"Caramel deLites, hands down."

"Oh yeah?"

"Absolutely," he nods.

The bartender, Jeff, sets the man's drink down with a clink. You catch one another's eye and both erupt into a fit of laughter.

You're not even sure what's funny. Maybe it's just been a long day? Maybe the whiskey was getting to you?

Whatever it is, it feels good.

The man takes a sip of his drink and lets out an aaaahh and it's goofy and charming and then he extends his hand.

"Joel," he tells you, "Joel Miller". You shake his hand, introduce yourself, and then take a sip of your own drink.

"So, tell me about yourself," you smile, "You coming from out of town?"

"Yes ma'am," he nods, "Come up here from Austin."

"Texas?"

Joel nods.

"That's a long trip."

"Yeah," he laughs, "It really is."

"So, you're a nice Southern boy, huh?"

"Well," he swishes his glass and tries to bite back a smile, "I don't know that I'd go quite so far, but my mama did raise me to be a gentleman."

"That so?" you ask and his blush deepens.

"I... have been known to get up to some trouble, but I like to think I've mellowed in my old age." He gestures at the beautiful little smatterings of silver at his temples, and you cackle.

"Okay, that's hot," you tell him and he chokes, but you keep going, "Old age, though? What are you, like, forty?"

He exhales, chagrined. "Forty-one."

You roll your eyes. "That ain't old."

"It feels it sometimes," he smiles, "My kid is grown. My little brother's married with a kid of his own on the way. My back hurts, pretty much all the time."

You snort. You also notice, without trying to look, that he doesn't have a wedding band. Doesn't have a tan line for one, either. Interesting.

"But more than that," he continues, "I guess I feel- I don't know. A little... aimless?"

"Yeah," you nod, and you let the moment sit. "I get that."

He lets out a little breath, and then turns back to you, focused.

"What about you? Where're you from?"

"Oof," you exhale, "All over. Spent a bit of time on the East coast. The Midwest. Lived a few months in the South, even," you tease as you bump your shoulder into his and he laughs. It's a surprisingly familiar gesture, but miraculously comfortable.

"Ever make it to Texas?"

"Naw," you shake your head, "My time in the South was all in Mississippi. After that I moved out to California, and I've been slowly working my way up the West Coast."

"And what have you been enjoying about the West Coast?" Joel asks.

"The mushrooms," you grin, and Joel frowns.

"Like, the kind you get in a little baggy from the dealer down the street, or-?"

"No," you laugh, "Or, well- Okay, sometimes. Gotta say it is great out here for that, too. But I mean fungus as a whole--mushrooms, mold, yeast, lichen. But I'm most interested in mushrooms. They're just really fuckin' cool, and there's so much we don't understand about them. And, they're delicious."

"Huh," Joel ponders, "T'tell you the truth, I've never thought much about mushrooms, besides enjoying 'em as a pizza topping."

"Most people don't," you agree, "But fuck, like-- Okay, so we know there are over five million types of fungi on Earth, but we've identified less than two percent of them. Some fungus aids decomposition. Some fungus is bioluminescent. Some are known worldwide for their delicious flavours, and others are known by the slow, horrible ways they kill you."

Joel raises his eyebrows, and suddenly you feel a little self conscious.

"Sorry, I do this," you laugh, rubbing at the back of your neck, "I get very excited about fungus and manage to alienate everyone around me."

You half expect him to stand up and walk away.

Instead, though, he leans in closer. "Don't apologise," he tells you, "I'm learning something new. Tell me more?"

"No, I should stop. Otherwise I'll never stop talking," you wince.

"How about just one more fungus fact?"

You sit for a minute, pondering. "This is- well, I guess this is one of the reasons I find fungus so fascinating. So, fungus can't photosynthesise the way that plants do--they can't produce their own food from sunshine, and water, and carbon dioxide. Instead, their mycelium-- they're these thread-like networks--they branch out beneath the earth, seeking out food, growing in the direction where it can find the nutrients it needs and breaking down organic material all around them, sometimes living organisms, as a parasite, and sometimes dead organisms as a decomposer, or both. And it's just- It's this hidden world, that exists right beneath the surface even in some of the extreme places on earth, temperature-wise. And most days, we don't even think about it."

You punctuate your thought with a large swallow of your drink, which is half-watered down now that the ice is melted, and doesn't hit quite as hard as you'd hoped, but then you look up at Joel and he's smiling at you, pensive, and--

"That's- That's actually really interesting."

Before you can respond, though, Joel glances at his watch and balks. It is getting late. "Shit," he shakes his head, "I think I oughta call it a night," he says, pulling back. "Early morning tomorrow, and if I stay at the bar I'll just keep drinkin'."

Fuck. That's a dismissal. Of course you went on too much about mushrooms. You'd fucked this up. You'd thought this was going well, but now it felt like a bucket of cold water was dumped over you. "Oh," you nod, matching his posture, and try to swallow down the sudden wave of disappointment. "Of course. Have a good night, Joel."

Joel stands up and then looks you up and down, considering. It's not brazen, but it isn't shy, either. And then understanding flashes across his face.

"Wait- Sorry, that's not how I meant it." He reaches out towards you and you melt into his touch. "I'm messin' this up." He chuckles, but it sounds pained. "Now look, I don't wanna make any presumptions. And I'm really hopin' I'm not coming off as some--dirty old man. Jesus, I haven't done this in a while. But I'm in room 308."

Your eyebrows shoot up. What you'd taken for disinterest was just--nerves?

"I reckon I'll be awake for a while yet. You're welcome to... drop by."

The disappointment melts, making way for a fluttering in your stomach.

"Twenty minutes," you assure him, "308?"

He nods and he brakes into a sheepish grin, shedding what you now realise had been something of an anxious wince. "308."

You watch him leave. When he's out of sight, you toss back the rest of your watery drink and go to pay your tab, but Jeff tells you it was already settled. You thank him and tuck your shaking hands in your pockets. You feel an electricity running through you as you take the elevator up.

When you get back to your room, you hop into the shower, just to freshen up--you keep your hair dry but scrub your body. Once you're clean, you brush your teeth.

Stepping back out of the en suite, you survey the hotel room. Spatula is lounging on the corner of the bed, entirely uninterested in your movements. You top up his dry food bowl and place a kiss between his ears before slipping out.

When you knock at Joel's door, you hear a slight rustle and clatter and then the door swings open, Joel's staring a little wide-eyed, like he didn't actually expect you to show. He's wearing grey sweats and a Johnny Cash t-shirt that looks like it's been around nearly as long as you have. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, an anxious tell that's desperately endearing.

"C'mon in," he smiles, and you step in, closing the door behind you.

You reach out to cup his face, delighting in the feeling of coarse stubble beneath your fingertips. Your first kiss is chaste. You both lean forward and press your lips to one another gently, exploring.

Then, you let out a little moan and Joel shudders. Heat surges between you, and his hands are cradling your head and brushing your cheek and he's pinning you against the closed door. You're kissing again, nothing chaste remaining, learning the taste of him, his rhythm, the crashing waves of give and take between you.

You wrap one leg around him and smirk when he lets out a throaty groan as you grind against his hard cock. You're pretty sure he's not wearing underwear, the thick bulge seemingly unconstrained in his grey sweats, the whole length pressing against your thigh.

Your head falls back and you let out soft, breathy noises as his lips trace along your collarbone, up your throat, and against that tender little spot behind your ear. When he puts your earlobe between his lips and presses his teeth gently against the skin, your knees go weak and he chuckles, strong arms wrapping around you, holding you up.

"Bed?" he asks, and you breathe yes and then, with a yelp and a throaty chuckle, you're lifted up and spun around and both tumbling into the duvet.

You're grasping at each other, desperate to keep your hands on one another. The only times you part is when you undress, and even then, you're helping each other--pulling the hem of his shirt over his lifted arms, pressing into him as he reaches around and moves to unhook your bra, but then he realises you're not wearing one and lets out a groan, his thumbs brushing alongside the tender skin along your ribs, moving gently as if to cup your breasts, but then he pulls back.

Normally you might wait, do this part slowly, draw out the tease just a little bit longer.

Tonight, though, you're ravenous.

As you fiddle with the buttons of your pants, you tug at the drawstring keeping Joel's sweats on his hips. The bow comes loose in one smooth motion, and he lifts his hips and you pull the sweats down.

Your mouth immediately waters seeing him bare, laid out for you. You watch a bead of precum drip down the head and pool on his belly. The coarse hair of his happy trail glistens with it. He's thick, uncut, and looks painfully hard, his cock head ruddy. "Fuck, you're beautiful," you tell him, and his cheeks redden but he grins. It's boyish, the way he grins, and devastatingly charming.

And, what you're saying is true. His body is gorgeous, something you wish you could sketch. Soft flesh over hard muscle, visible tan lines where his chest and shoulders are noticeably lighter than his arms. The muscles and veins along his throat are driving you absolutely fucking insane as he swallows and looks up at you.

He's got freckles on his shoulders, too, and without thinking, you lower yourself down to kiss at his shoulder. He shakes, just a little, and lets out the most beautiful gasp. It's addictive, pulling these noises from him. You follow the curve of him, giving him a taste of his own medicine--tracing feather-light kisses along his collarbone, up the tendons of his neck, behind his ear. You can feel the blood pulse in his veins as your lips brush along him. Joel goes from panting lightly to full on groaning, rutting his hips up towards you and, frustrated, meeting only air.

"Can I taste you?", you ask, and Joel lets out a half-strangled sound and nods, vigorous.

You scoot back, lower yourself, poke out your tongue and, without any preamble, lick at the slit of his head, tasting the salty, tangy precum.

Joel tips his head back and groans and you decide to be kind. You grasp onto his hips and take him in your mouth, slowly sinking down, inch by inch by inch and now you can feel him at the back of your throat, your saliva dripping down the shaft and collecting in the hair between his thighs.

You bob your head up and down, taking him deeper with each thrust, but your throat is full and there are still inches to go. You relax, doing everything you can to take him deeper, and he starts to thrust up gently.

You let him fuck into your mouth but release one of his hips, allowing him to move as freely as he needs and freeing up your hand, which you shove into your underwear, rubbing furiously at your clit.

It doesn't take much to lose yourself in it, to focus only on the sensation. You're so wet, slick coating your fingers, making the glide that much smoother as you touch yourself. Joel tastes so good, too, the intrusion of his cock the most delicious thing, feeling the way he shudders when you moan, the way he moans when you shudder.

"Fuck-" Joel gasps, and then there's a hand guiding you gently off of him.

You raise an eyebrow. "You okay?"

He swallows, hard, and nods. "More than okay. Felt too fuckin' good."

"Oh yeah?" and you lean down, as if to take him back in your mouth, but he chuckles and pulls you back again.

"It's been... a while. For me. And-" He drags his palm down his face, wearing an almost pained expression. "Christ, you just look too fuckin' good down there, mouth stretched 'round me while you touch yourself. An' it feels too fuckin' good, too. I ain't ready for this to be over yet but if you keep lettin' me fuck your throat like that it's gonna be over real quick. And I wanna feel that pretty pussy myself."

You sit back up and he pulls you towards him so you're straddling him.

"You gonna fuck me, Joel?"

"Yes," he breathes, "Yes, baby, please-"

You do an awkward wobble and then stand up, shedding your pants and letting your panties drop, stepping out of them, one foot and then the other, and the way he's watching you is addictive. He watches you with beautiful eyes, drinking all of you in, and suddenly the moment has changed into one of those quiet, intimate moments where you both exhale a laugh.

You straddle him again, and lean down to kiss him, and the electric current surges up. He grabs you by the jaw, meeting your desperation. His lips on yours are exactly the balm you need and you can taste the whiskey on his breath.

"Feels fucking good," you tell Joel as you slide up and down his length. He's not penetrating you, not yet, but the lips of your pussy are spread and you're gliding along him, feeling his head at your clit and thrusting back till you're nearly seated on his balls.

He watches you, nearly unblinking, drinking it all in. Then, he lets out a groan, and half-sits up, suddenly focused.

"Shit," he closes his eyes in frustration, "I don't have any condoms. Shit shit shit-"

You push him back down and kiss him again. Then, you hop off the bed and sift around in your jean pockets.

"Ah-ha!," you exclaim, once you've found your treasure. Joel raises and eyebrow and you wink. "Saw they were selling them in the lobby. Figured it might be a good idea."

"Shit," Joel laughs, and presses his lips just to the side of your mouth. "Clever girl," he tells you, and a shiver goes up your spine.

He leans to help, but you shoo him away and he watches, entranced, as you neatly open the condom wrapper and, with a small amount of difficulty, roll it down his cock.

"Feeling okay?" You ask him, "Shit, I shoulda gotten the Magnums. Is your dick okay? It's not being choked to death by an inappropriately sized rubber, is it?"

Joel snorts. "We'll manage," he says, and then he grips you by the hips, lines himself up. He draws his knuckles along your cunt and groans, "Fuck, so goddamn wet for me-" and, the moment you look at him and nod, he holds the head of his cock against your drooling lips and presses into you.

It's a big stretch as he lowers you down onto him, the intrusion almost painful, but before you can even take a breath, it melts into absolute pleasure. You've fucked people with longer cocks before, and you've fucked people with girthier cocks before, but never have you fucked someone with a cock that's both this long and thick and it feels like you're being split in two and it's perfect and you realise, with a sudden flip of your stomach, he isn't even fully seated inside you yet.

Then, you manage to focus on the words Joel is saying-that had really just been background noise for the past ten seconds or so-and suddenly you're tuning back in for "Tha's it," his voice low and hoarse, surprisingly gentle, "Good girl, takin' this cock so well, look at you."

His brow is furrowed and he's looking at you with such dark eyes, nearly black, the pupils are so blown. "Just a little more, that's it, just one more inch, you can do it, christ, look at you, takin' all of me."

His tone is reverent and it sets a fire through you. You can feel more slickness build and drip out of you, and from the way he moans, you're certain he can feel it too despite the condom.

"So fuckin' wet," he groans, "Soakin' my cock- grippin' me so nice-Fuck--"

He leans towards you and cradles your head in his hand, kissing you hard.

When you both pull back, you know your lips must be kiss swollen and red. His are--they're soft and bright, and you want to eat him whole.

"You're gonna be the death of me, woman."

He's thrusting into you lazily, holding you in place, but you need more, you need all of him.

You push forward and move his hand from your waist to your clit. As you manoeuvre him, his nostrils flare, and you'd wonder if he was angry, if not for the way you felt his cock stiffen even further inside of you. You start to move your hips, to rub up against the thumb on your clit, and to feel every fucking inch of him.

Urged on by the way he groans, you start to ride him, properly. Holding each other close, you fuck down onto him and he leans back, awed.

"Enjoying the show?" you ask.

"Damn- right- I- am-," Joel breathes, every word punctuated with a shuddering breath after you drive back down onto his cock, "Jesus- you- look- so- good- like- that."

You like being watched. Being admired. It sent an extra thrill through you, and your hips stutter, just a little, and now you're following a new, faster rhythm.

"Fuck, that's it, baby-" he praises, "Shit, yes- bounce on it."

You lean forward and kiss his throat, and then he makes this noise, half-strangled and beautiful.

"Shit, honey-- honey, honey, hold on-," he holds you still and you're glad he has, because your brain hadn't quite processed his words.

He's looking at you so earnestly.

"Baby, if you keep ridin' me like this I am gonna blow my load in the next twenty seconds and I don't wanna end this quite so soon."

You hum, a moment of consideration. You stare into his eyes, and part of it is calculated seduction, but another part is getting genuinely lost in the way he looks at you. The crinkles round his eyes. The way he seems able to focus on you, in a way that feels as frightening as it is exhilarating.

"How about this," You smile, "You get yours, and then you can eat me out till I get mine. And if you're ready to go again by the time I've come, we can see where we're at then. Hmm?"

You see a bead of sweat trickle down his temple, and take a moment to appreciate how much he's clearly trying to control himself.

After a moments of avoiding your eye, he looks at you again and he looks utterly wrecked. "You- talkin' like that?" He shakes his head and tries to even his breath. "Fuck, I nearly came right there."

"It's okay," you soothe, and you cup his jaw and resume you movements, riding him like you had before. "You can come if you need to-" your fingertips stroke the stubble of his chin, "You're close, huh? It's okay, daddy, you can let go."

Joel lets out a strangled noise and busts immediately.

You savor the way it feels, the pulse of his cock as he spills into you. No, into the condom, you correct yourself, but you can always pretend-

After his balls relax and you can feel him start to get soft, you hold the condom down as you pull yourself off, and you're nearly unseated when there's a sudden squelch noise that sends you both into tumbles of laughter.

It takes a while to calm down, and you find yourselves heaving, tangled in the sheets, and wrapped up in each other. The condom is hanging limply on Joel's now-soft cock and it's oddly cold and gooey as you accidentally roll against it, and that sends you both off again.

"Fuck," Joel snorts, and tugs at the condom, starting to roll it off his length, "I'd almost forgotten the weird texture of a used condom. Fuckin'... Slug-like."

"That-" you declare, "Is visceral. And I hate it. Thanks."

He snorts, and you suddenly have a question.

"Condoms not making too many appearances in your life?"

"Not many, no."

"What, you usually fuck raw?"

"Just haven't been sleepin' with anyone," he shrugs, nonplussed.

"Well, I gotta say, the good people of Austin have been missing out."

Joel shrugs again, and it comes off as casual, but you notice the way his ears tint pink. "Just- not been something I did. But now, I guess, I can. And with way less guilt."

"Why guilt? Are-" you venture, dread pooling in your stomach, "Are you married?"

His eyes flit up to you sharply, and then soften immediately. He lets out a breath and shakes his head. "No. Nothin' like that. I was married, but I've been divorced nearly twenty years now."

The tightness immediately uncoils and you realise how tense you were only a moment ago. I am not a cog in the machine of a collapsing marriage. Thank fuck.

But now your curiosity is piqued. "So... why the guilt?"

"Sorry, I- I really didn't mean to get into it. I'd rather not get into it. It's- complicated."

"Of course," you shrug, and it isn't a problem because this is just a hot fantasy hookup that you'll remember fondly, and it'll be wonderful masturbation fuel for probably the rest of your life, but you don't wanna make the poor guy go into his life's trauma, especially when he's looking at you so fucking earnestly and you are actually really fucking fascinated but no, you would not let this become a problem.

"Thanks," he says, and then steps out of the room. You hear the clang of the bin as he steps on the pedal, then drops the condom, takes a piss and washes his hands.

"You hungry?" He asks, and you realize very suddenly, you're absolutely famished.

"Yes," you jump up and he laughs when you run, bare-assed and shameless, over to the corner of the room filled with brochures and traveller info and finally, you raise it in triumph when you find it, the list of nearby takeaways.

"Okay," you look at the list, "There's one place at the top of the list here that's apparently highly rated, but I actually have plans there soon and I wanna wait till then to eat there. Hope that's okay."

Joel comes over to you and rests his head on your shoulder. "No problem."

"But... alright," you continue. "There's pizza. Or... more pizza. Or, look--there's a Southern-style place, that'll make you feel right at home!" Joel pokes you in the side and you swat at him as he grunts a laugh.

Suddenly, a warning sound starts playing on loop in your brain. It was dreadfully domestic, wasn't it? This was an absolute stranger you'd just met in a hotel bar? But... it also felt... nice? And it felt nice in ways that you'd never found yourself enjoying before. Even with long-term partners. Maybe because this was so low-stakes, you reasoned, such an inevitably temporary situation, so you weren't putting the same kind of pressure on yourself.

As soon as you think that, the eternal curse of overthinking shows itself and you suddenly feel desperately self conscious. Before you can pull away and make some excuse, though, Joel's arm wraps around you and his thumb starts rubbing little circles into a tender bit of skin between your hip and your tummy. The anxiety spiral you'd been teetering on the edge of suddenly vanishes.

"How about-," he nods at the list, "Pizza?"

After Joel calls in your order, the pizza delivery service tells you to expect your food in about thirty minutes. You remember you have a little box of edibles. You ask Joel if he minds if you take one, and he doesn't. You offer him one, and he automatically declines, but then as he starts to explain, he pauses and pivots, goes "Wait, actually. Yeah. Why not?"

A freckled kid who looks no more than sixteen pulls up with a short stack of pizza boxes and a two liter bottle of root beer. He raps awkwardly on the door after exactly thirty five minutes, and it swings open.

The room looks utterly wrecked, clothing strewn along every surface. Joel answers the door wearing a robe, his entire face smelling of sex, and his moustache still shining with the slick of your release.

"Thanks, kid," Joel nods, and hands him a small wad of cash. The kid eyes him and shrugs. "Keep the change," he tells him, and the door swings back shut.

The edibles have hit beautifully. You're both blissed out, comfortably hazy, lost in the sensation of bare limbs on bedsheets and the flavors of the pizza and it's assorted sauces. You lay together on the bed, paper plates strewn between you. In the background, an X-Files rerun plays.

"Ooh!" You sit up as you catch the premise of the episode, "I love this one! See the goo? There's a giant fungal... entity.. that's working on digesting them, and giving them hallucinations as they die."

"You and mushrooms, huh?" Joel laughs, but then looks back at the episode and contemplates the viscous yellow goo. "Jesus christ," he frowns, and sniffs, now contemplating the mushrooms on his pizza slice.

You spot his glare and snort. "I think you're safe."

He takes another bite and shakes his head as if to clear it.

"I'm getting tired," he admits.

"Me too," you agree.

"No pressure, but in case it wasn't clear, you're welcome to stay the night here."

"That's sweet," you tell him, and think it over. "If I took you up on that, would you be offended if I slip out early?"

Joel raises a brow.

"I have a cat," you explain, "And I'm working on moving into a new place, and meeting a friend for breakfast, and then I need to check out after breakfast because I won't be able to get my keys for the new place until the breakfast but I can't take my cat to a diner-"

You take a breath.

"Basically, I've got a bunch of things I need to do in the morning, but if you don't mind me slipping out around, maybe, 5-ish, then I'd love to stay."

He stares at you.

You regret saying as much as you said. You don't need to over-explain yourself to this actual stranger. He doesn't care. There's no reason for him to care. He's probably in it just for the fuck, and it was fun and if you stay then there's a chance the two of you will wake up at some point in the night, still horny and lustful and you might fuck again and you'd be lying if you said that wasn't part of the draw. You realise, though, you'd also be lying if you said you didn't care what he thought of you. All of a sudden, you are overwhelmed with caring what this man thinks of you.

How fucking inconvenient.

"I wouldn't be offended at all," Joel chews, swallows, wipes the corner of his mouth with a napkin and speaks again. "What's your cat's name?"

You don't know what you'd expected he'd say, but it wasn't that. You buffer for a moment. "It's- Spatula."

"Spatula?"

"Yep." You feel foolish.

"Huh. Spatula."

A silent moment between you.

"Got any pictures?"

You weren't expecting that, either. "I... do? Do you want to see them?" He nods. You pull out your phone to scroll through.

Joel, suddenly scrambled around for his phone, too. It was late and he hadn't checked it for hours. Had it been on silent? What if Sarah had called and he'd missed it?

His panic eased when he saw he had only two notifications. Both from Sarah, but neither were bad. He hadn't been neglecting any crises. The first text was a selfie of Sarah and an unfamiliar person, which she'd texted to him with the caption New roomie!! The second contained an address to the place they'd have breakfast tomorrow along with Just wanted you to know I've invited a friend to join us tomorrow morning! Is that okay? Realized I should maybe have checked with you? 😬

There was an ache in his chest. He wanted to keep her to himself, get to spend one last day, just the two of them. It was the start of a whole new chapter, but more than anything, he wished he could hold onto the moment for just a second longer.

But Sarah was stressed, he knew this, so he wasn't gonna make it worse and put this burden on her. He could handle it. He had to handle it. He typed back- No problem, baby. Can't wait to meet your friend.

After a moment, he followed up with another text. Gonna turn in now. Good nite!

The less he texted right now, the better. He did not want Sarah to know anything about the night he was having.

His screen lit up a moment later. Night Dad! He takes a deep breath and wills some of the tension away.

He slips his phone aside and you scoot into bed next to him.

"This," you announce, "Is Spatula."

Joel scrolls thru, his brows raising higher with each image.

With a single nod, he opens his mouth and instead of speaking, he collapses into laughter. It comes out a wheeze- "I-- I know this won't make any sense, but your cat looks just like my goddamn brother."

You're laughing now too, both of you almost hysterical, even though you have no frame of reference. You cherish the absurdity.

Then, Joel pulls up a picture on his phone and shows you, and now you're doubling over again because his brother looks exactly like Spatula.

You don't remember falling asleep. You curse your body's internal clock because you wake up right at 5am, and even though you know you should get up and leave, you wish you could have just a little bit longer.

It's such a comfortable way to wake up. One arm is folded under your pillow, and the other is slung over Joel's hip. He's asleep, snoring softly, and strands of his hair are mussed along his forehead. Your hand is holding his tummy, but you realise there's something pressing against the heel of your hand, and then realise, with a delicious jolt, that he's hard and straining against his boxers.

It's so fucking hard to get out of that bed, but with enough barely-effective reminders--you're gonna fuck up your whole day if you're late, gotta make a good impression, Spatula's gonna be so disappointed if you're late with his breakfast--you manage to bully yourself out of the warm and wonderful bed containing blankets and absolutely fantastic dick, and you tiptoe through the room, dress quickly, and, after making a note and leaving it on his bedside stand, you slip out.

Joel wakes up with a jolt, and then rolls over to see that the alarm clock (which he dared not contemplate the number of times he must have snoozed) was telling him it was 9:13.

He was late. Really fucking late. And then the panic made his brain spin faster and that's when he noticed the note on his bedside table.

I had a really good time If you're in town for a little longer, don't be a stranger?

It's followed with your name and phone number, and a rather detailed mushroom sketch across the page. He wasn't sure what kind of mushroom it was, but it was beautiful, and clearly hand-drawn, and for whatever reason you'd decided to tear it out of, presumably, your sketchbook? And you gave it to him, and he's gonna read that note and replay last night for the rest of his fucking life. It felt incredibly precious. He placed it in a book so it wouldn't get creased or folded. Made sure it was all contained and neat, totally flat in between the pages.

Then, he dragged himself out of bed and into the shower.

After scrubbing the smell of sex off of his entire body, he dresses quickly and checks his watch again. 9:28.

He texts Sarah and lets her know he's a few minutes behind. She responds with an eye roll emoji.

Joel settles in his truck and pulls up directions. It's only a few minutes away. He won't be too late.

When Joel steps into the diner, he's charmed by it. It's old school, with a checkerboard floor and bright red vinyl seats. He scans the room till he spots Sarah in a booth in the corner. She's laughing over a hot chocolate, and her friend must be in the seat opposite her.

He catches Sarah's eye and she grins at him, waving him over.

You've been at the diner about fifteen minutes, and you and Sarah are already getting along beautifully.

You'd met on a university message board and had become fast friends, but meeting someone in person was always a little terrifying. On top of that, you'd already committed to spending at least one (academic) year with this person, so you were damn sure gonna make it work.

Sarah waves over her dad. You can't see him yet, the back of the booth too high.

But then he's standing right there.

You already have a hand outstretched, but when he sees you and you see him, your stomach flips and dread runs through you. All the color drains from his face. He looks like a deer in headlights, and you'd be surprised if you didn't look the same.

Sarah looks between you, not quite concerned, but definitely confused. Sarah smiles and tries to diffuse the situation.

"Hi dad!" She grins, "This is my new roommate! Well, the other new roommate--the one in the picture, their name is Ellie, they weren't able to make it this morning. BUT. Breakfast seemed like a great time to hand off keys!"

Joel is still frozen and white-faced. Your brain whirs, and you know you've just fucking catapulted yourself into a disastrous mess, but you do your very best to save face.

Reaching your hand out further so he can't possibly miss it, he gives into some familiar social instinct, takes it and you shake. You think of his hands, how they dragged along your body last night, touched you, felt you, wrecked you.

You introduce yourself. He nods, avoiding eye contact.

"Joel." He grunts. "Miller."

Sarah frowns at him, but turns back to the menu.

This- was unexpected. Problematic. Arguably, really fucked up. All of those things and more. But it'll be fine.

All throughout breakfast, you repeat that to yourself, letting the words bounce around your head. It will be fine, you repeat your mantra, it will be fine, and you try not to feel too hurt at the way Joel's avoiding eye contact as if simply looking at you will cause him unimaginable disgust.

Everything will be fine.

Note: The fic's premise is loosely based on the book Mistakes Were Made which is a fucking excellent sapphic romance novel that utilises this trope. Would strongly recommend the book if you're into smutty queer stories.

[msjaeger]

Whipped Like A Motherfu- (Older!Damian Wayne x Reader)

Description: The boys never thought it was possible for their youngest brother to have a soft spot for a woman. Or a soft spot in general. So how will they react when they witness their brother being lovey-dovey first-hand?

This was requested by @beatriceshadowmarvel2 so enjoy!!!

The only warning I got for this is that it has explicit language.

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Damian could be hot-headed. And very irritable. Also not to mention annoying at times. Overall he was a complete dick to almost everyone around him. Keyword: Almost. There was one person he would never and could never show any harsh emotions towards. The love of his life, the one he'd die for, the one he'd kill for. You.

The two of you had met during an attempted robbery. But not in the way one would probably assume. It was Damian who was getting robbed, not you. For obvious reasons, Damian could handle himself in these situations. But also for obvious reasons, Damian is the one who usually initiates the attack. It's been a while since he's been jumped out of nowhere. So he was a bit rusty on his reflexes.

You, on the other, had grown up on the rough side of Gotham so you had gotten a headstart on having your reflexes in tip-top shape. At the time of the incident, you had a fresh can of mace. You were walking past when you noticed the man get struck on the back of the head and were taken aback by surprise. On instinct, you reached into your purse and whipped out the black can. Then the rest was history.

That was approximately two years, six months, five weeks, and twenty-two days ago. It was that long ago since Damian realized that he could never love and long someone as much as he did you. But somehow, after all this time, you're finally meeting the infamous Wayne. His family.

And he was not excited.

"Of course, I'm not going to be excited, sweetheart. You didn't have to live with them for eight years of your life and for another two, having to meet up with them for every fucking holiday to exist." Damian scowled as you flipped his eggs onto a plate. He had just entered the kitchen and sat down at the bar of your shared apartment.

You turned around, one hand on your hip and the other lying his plate in front of him.

"C'mon Dami. They can't be that bad if you didn't run away." You offered, running your hands through your boyfriend's messy hair. He picked up his black coffee and muttered:

"Trust me. I tried."

You sighed and kissed his cheek, his freshly shaved jaw still having shaving cream in random areas of his face. "Did your father ever teach you how to shave?" You chuckled, wiping a smidge of cream off his face. You walked out of the kitchen and stood next to him, silently urging him to eat.

He grumbled something Arabic before grabbing your hips and pulling you down to his level. He started rubbing his cheek against yours, which usually you would be fine with. If shaving cream still wasn't on Damian's face.

"Damian! I was finally ready to go and now my makeup is ruined! I think you got some on my sweater, too!" You whined as he let out a laugh. He pulled away and stared into your eyes, his hands on both sides of your face. His green eyes kept observing each little feature you had on your face. The confused posture on your lips. The twitch of your nose as words came out of your mouth but he could only focus on your face.

"You don't need makeup, my love. You don't need anything to change how you look. You're already the most beautiful thing to bless this Earth." Damian said mindlessly, staring into your eyes.

You chuckled, confused about what made Damian come to those words or thoughts. "I'm not too sure what you mean by that, Dami. But I love you as well.". You stood up to your full height and tried removing the shaving cream from your sweater. "But not as much as I love looking presentable for your family so they don't think I'm a South Side junkie." You announced while walking back to your bedroom.

After your little situation was fixed, the two of you left the penthouse and started your thirty-minute journey to Wayne Manor. The drive gave you time to publicise your concerns.

"Dami, what if they think I'm not good enough for you? Or what if they think I'm using you for money? It doesn't help that I'm from the poorest side of Gotham and possibly the entire fucking country. Should I swear in front of them? I know they're all guys and probably swear worse than me but they-" Your rambling was cut off when your boyfriend kissed you right on the lips.

"Damian! You're driving, from the last time I checked. That's how people crash and die from a cell stroke or something." You reprimanded. Damian only chuckled and removed his hand from the wheel of his favorite Corvette.

"One: This is the car that was partnered with Wayne Enterprises to create the first self-driving sports car. It was in Hands-Off mode, sweetheart. Two: You can't die from a cell stroke because there is no such thing. Three: They'll love you I promise. Because if they don't, I can guarantee they will die a slow and pai-".

"That's enough, love. I'll stick to them not liking me." You compromised, knowing it was the best option as you were aware of Damian's threats becoming a reality.

"That's the thing, Y/n. There shouldn't be a reason for them not to like you. You're beautiful, both book and street smart, and the kindest person to ever walk this Earth." Damian was about to continue his rant about how much you were worth when he noticed he was already parked outside the place he too wasn't sure how to feel about.

A part of him wanted to walk in and reminisce on the memories of his youth. The other part of him wanted to drive his car into the side of the house (without you in it, of course), put it in self-destruct mode, and blow the house into pieces.

"I'm gonna fucking kill myself." Damian groaned as he put the car in park. You glanced at him as his face contorted into one of horror as he stared at the now wide-open door.

Four grown men walked out of the door, a prideful aura radiating off them. Damian's eye twitched as he swung the car door open and flicked them off before they even got the chance to utter a word to him. He made his way to your side of the car and opened the door for you.

He reached his hand out to you and helped you out of the car. You readjusted your skirt and reassess your outfit choice.

'Does this make me look like a hooker?' You wondered to yourself as the group approached your boyfriend and yourself.

"Wow. Little demon managed to find a girl that will put up with his attitude. And he... opened the door for her?" The one who you knew was Dick Grayson and your boyfriend's oldest brother. Only because he was on the best terms with Damian that he actually talked about him. But not in the brotherly way people would consider.

"Fucking Grayson. He's always showing off."

"Dick? Just assume the name comes with the job"

"I will not talk to him. Just because he's my brother and helped me out when I was younger doesn't mean I forgot he threw up all over me when he got shitfaced the last time I saw him."

"Guys, don't tell me the spawn of Satan himself actually learned manners and pulled a good-looking chick. I think I'm gonna cry." The one next to Dick wiped fake tears from his eyes. Damian's scowl deepened.

"Here's an idea, Jason. Go fuck yourself." Damian retorted. The new speaker, Jason, rolled his eyes and chuckled. He was the first to approach you formally and stuck his hand out.

"Hey, I'm Jason, Damian's older, hotter, and smarter brother so if he fucks up, you know where to find me," Jason smirked while you shook his hand.

"I'm Y/n. I would gladly take your offer if I didn't know Damian would never fuck up." You replied back, silently wincing at your use of vulgar language.

But instead of sneering at you or commenting your foul language was 'unladylike', Jason howled in laughter and shrugged.

"Offer still stands. Your accent. You grow up on South Side?" He asked, crossing his arms after you dropped his hand. You nervously glanced at Damian, who nodded in affirmation.

"Yep. Born and raised. How'd you figure it out? I'm usually pretty good at hiding it. That and I don't go around at night, begging for a cigarette and three cents in change."

"I'm from there too. At least before Buck-for-Fuck here adopted me. Grew up on Crack row or whatever it's called by the rich." Jason shifted his gaze to his brother. "You got a good one, Demon. You already know how we turn out." He gestured to himself with up and down hand motions.

"It's a good thing she got out before you, then."

"Fuck you, man."

Jason whimpered in fake pain before being shoved out of the way by Dick and the other brother. Dick introduced himself to you in a very formal way, starting it off by kissing your hands.

Damian did not take it well. He pushed Dick's cheek away from your knuckles. "At least ask her first. Don't you have any self-dignity?" Dick frowned but backed off nonetheless. "My bad, little man. I-", the first thing you've picked up from this family is they don't seem to let each other finish as you watched Dick get shoved by his father, who was clearly embarrassed.

You didn't need an introduction from Bruce motherfucking Wayne. 1. He owns the biggest technology company in the world. 2: It's Bruce Wayne. He's probably the one person on the planet who doesn't need to introduce himself. And he knew that too.

But he introduced himself anyways.

"Hello, Y/n. I'm Damian's father, Bruce. I've heard a lot of things about you." Bruce held his hand out as you shook it respectfully. You glanced at Damian, who scoffed at his father.

"All good things I hope, Mr Wayne." Bruce grimaced when you spoke. "Please call me Bruce, dear. Mr Wayne makes me feel as if I was alive when the Civil War was still being considered." Jason snickered before saying, "You probably were. You'd think with the amount of money you earn, you could afford getting rid of those crow's feet." Damian rolled his eyes at his family's antics before pointing at the last brother that wasn't introduced.

"The emo one who hasn't said a word is Tim. He's a bit odd and stays in his room jacking off or playing with Father's computers." Damian wrapped an arm around you as he explained his brother's habits. Tim's face became stoic as Damian shrugged.

"I hope all your stocks drop completely," Tim grumbled, brushing the hair out of his eyes. Damian's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to send a comeback towards his brother before Bruce chuckled nervously.

"Why don't we all go inside and catch up? Also so we don't embarrass ourselves even more in front of Y/n." The boys seemed to all agree and Damian and yourself followed the rest of the family inside.

After settling down inside the manor's living room, Bruce poured you a cup of tea and sat down in between Jason and Dick, Tim sat on the floor, and Damian and yourself sat on the couch.

"So Y/n. Tell us more about yourself. You didn't seem to have any time to do to certain people in the family. You said you were from South Side, right?" Jason clapped his hands and hollered. Bruce gave him a nasty side-eye while Dick slapped his chest.

"I think the more important question is... how the fuck someone like Damian ended up with a sweet little angel like yourself," Tim spoke while drinking something that obviously wasn't tea. Your boyfriend's frown deepened.

"I wouldn't call her a little angel, Timmy. We met because she maced a guy trying to rob me." Jason jumped out of his seat and started a handshake that was created for South Siders to identify each other with. Surprisingly, you still remember the whole thing.

"That's what I'm fucking talking about! You make everyone who still lives in Shitville proud!" Damian pushed Jason back into his seat before pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Please refrain from tainting her with your filthy hands." Damian had little spurts where he would switch from casually talking to someone to as if he was talking to the president. Of course, Jason had a knack for making fun of it.

"My dearest apologies, my lord. May I offer my condolences for my idiotic acts?" Jason bowed from his seat.

"Okay, we can try this again. Please don't fucking touch her with your nasty ass hands that we all know you 'forget' to wash. The next time any one of you touches her without her permission, I'll be sure the Lazarus pit can't bring you back to life." Damian snapped. It suddenly became quiet despite the conversation being between two people.

Although it was only two sentences, it was enough to leave the family of undercover heroes speechless. Not about the fact that the youngest member snapped at them. No, they've gotten used to that.

It's the fact he snapped at them over a girl, let alone anyone else in general.

Jason's jaw was slacked and his eyes were wide in surprise. Tim had lost all his secret stash of alcohol as he not only spit out the liquor in his mouth but his water bottle dropped onto the shiny floors. Dick's face was stoic as he processed the fact that his baby brother could actually care about someone as much as he cared about himself. Maybe more.

Bruce's expression was possibly the hardest not to laugh at. His eyes were wide, an eyebrow was arched, and overall just looked weirded out.

Damian groaned in irritation and his fingers twitched in annoyance. He tapped your thigh a few times and stood up with your hand in his. "We're gonna head to my room and sleep off the bullshit from today. Don't bother us." Damian dragged you along like a lost puppy up one of the many staircases throughout the mansion and disappeared behind the thick walls of the hall. Not before hearing:

"Use protection, please! We don't need any more demon spawns running around when we have Damian and Jason!" "Fuck you, Bruce!"

Bonus:

You laid on Damian's bare chest, his pecs acting like a pillow for your head. Your legs intertwined with his and your hands were in the pockets of his black sweatpants.

You were fast asleep, the warmth from his upper body acting as a sedative for comfort. But Damian wasn't asleep. He couldn't fall asleep. Not while admiring the beautiful soul on his chest.

He ran his calloused fingers through your hair, dismissing the tangles in your hair by prying his fingers apart at the ends of each strand. He knew you'd be pissed about the sudden frizziness when you woke up but he didn't care. Not when he'd at least hear your voice.

"Words cannot describe how much I love you, Y/n. You saved me more than the day we met with your can of mace. You changed me and I will always be grateful for your love and affection towards someone like me." He whispered into your ear. He kept whispering poetic words into your sleeping ears. He suddenly stopped when he heard a creak from the corner of the room.

His vision sharpened to see into the darkness of his old room and immediately reached over to his nightstand and switched his lamp on. It illuminated the room just enough to see his family in the corner of his room, recording the scene in front of them.

Damian wrapped his arms around your waist and gave the nastiest glare possible towards the boys. Tim was about to say something, maybe lighten up the approaching argument but Damian brought a finger up to his pursed lips.

"If you wake her up, I will play tic-tac-toe on your throats with my katana." He blankly threatened.

Dick realized there wasn't any bluffing behind his brother's threat, as he had doubted threats from Damian before and that's how he ended up with thumbtacks in his ass and tried to escape the impending doom.

Jason, on the other hand, wanted to see the world burn and tripped his older brother, causing him to trip and eat shit. A thud echoed throughout the room, causing you to stir in your sleep.

"Dami? What was that?" A dagger was whipped out of the nightstand and held by Damian in a way with the intent to throw it at an unsuspecting victim. "Nothing, sweetheart. Just go back to sleep, okay beautiful?" You drifted back to sleep as if under a spell, your hands now on his defined chest.

There was a brief moment of silence that gave Damian time to admire the love of his life. That was until Jason decided to open his mouth.

"Dude, you're whipped like a motherfu-"

A knife flew across the room and landed right next to Jason's head.

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This is the first thing I've written in almost a year so lmk if it's ass or gas. BUT KEEP SENDING IN REQUESTS I LOVE HEARING OTHER PEOPLE'S IDEAS!!!

[scoonsaliciousupdates]

5.1 Major*

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, explicit sexual content (hand stuff, protected PIV).

Word Count: 1k

Previously On...: You want Bucky, he wants you-- neither one of you can wait to get back to your place.

A/N: Car sex! Huzzah!

I feel like I wrote "cock" too many times...

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

It was a tight fit, but so worth it. The sports car didn’t have a back seat, so Bucky had pushed the driver’s seat back as far as it could go so you could straddle him as you kissed each other and ground your pelvises together. 

You moaned into Bucky’s mouth. Even through the fabric of his pants and your panties, he felt so good, hitting almost all the right spots. “Pants,” you grunted. 

Bucky chuckled into your lips as he reached down and started unworking his belt and fly. “So needy,” he murmured, moving to suck beautiful bruises into your skin. 

“Yes,” you agreed, your breath coming out in gasps. “Desperate.” You reached over into the passenger’s seat, grabbing your clutch. Opening it up, you pulled out a handful of condoms.

At the sight of them, Bucky chuckled. “Were you a Girl Scout growing up, doll? Cause you sure came prepared.”

“Let’s just say,” you paused to rip the foil packet open with your teeth, “I had high hopes for tonight.” 

“Well, far be it for me to disa–” Bucky sucked in a breath as you rolled the condom down on his exposed member, taking the liberty to start stroking it with both hands. “Fuck, sugar, just like that.”

“Look at this big cock,” you cooed as you looked down at where you were working him. “So big and thick, I can’t even get my little fingers to fit around it.”

You couldn’t even identify the sound Bucky made at your words, but you were fairly confident he liked them, so you went on: “How’s this giant, beefy cock going to fit in my tiny, tight pussy, Sergeant?” you asked, your voice coming out in a purr. “Gonna tear me in half with this monster dick. Split me right in two ‘til I’m screaming.”

Bucky’s mouth was hanging open, his head lolled against the headrest and his eyes closed. “Keep talking, sugar,” he panted. “I’m so fucking close.”

You grinned. “Think I can take it, Sarge?” you asked as you jerked him. “Think I can be a good girl for you? Take every inch you have to give me? Let you stretch my pretty pussy wide open? Gonna make me choke on this dick?”

With a growl, Bucky gripped the back of your head with one hand, pulling your mouth to his in a brutal kiss. His other hand slid between your bodies, under the skirt of your dress. Skillfully, he slid the gusset of your sopped panties aside, then grabbed his cock from you, guiding it into your entrance.

You gasped at the intrusion, luxuriating in the feel of him as he pressed fully into you. Then you began to move, riding his cock, the both of you now silent as you stared into each other’s eyes. His hands moved to your hips, helping you as he fucked up into you, handling you as though you weighed nothing. You grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket for purchase, pulling him to you and capturing his lips with your own.

The windows of the car were long fogged over, encasing the two of you in a private cocoon of lust and heat as you bounced on top of Bucky’s cock. “You feel so good, sugar,” he moaned. “So tight, so perfect.”

You reached behind your head and pulled at the ties behind your neck that held the top of your dress up, letting the front of it fall down your chest to your waist, exposing yourself to him. Bucky’s eyes followed your movements, and when your breasts were revealed, he let out a low groan. He took one hand off your hip and brought it to your tit, palming the flesh until your nipple pebbled beneath his touch. Leaning down, he brought his mouth to the other, sucking and biting at the hard nub.

You threw your head back, lost in the sensations he was giving you. Grabbing the back of his head, you pressed it against your skin, never wanting him to take his mouth off of you. He switched, moving to your other breast to give it the same loving attention. 

“Bucky,” you gasped, pulling his hair so that he had to look at you, “Bucky, I’m close. Cum with me, baby, please,” you begged. 

Bucky nodded vigorously, taking the hand that had been paying homage to your breast and moving it down to your clit, where he began to rub it furiously. “I’mma get you there, doll,” he said, voice husky with his own impending release. “I’ll be right with you.”

It was your turn to nod, desperately, as you locked eyes with him. You kept up the eye contact through your individual orgasms, cumming within moments of one another. You cried out as you came, his name a garbled prayer on your lips, and you couldn’t believe you’d known this man for just over 24 hours, yet he already knew how to work your body so well, as though by pure instinct, or as if you were made for one another. 

As you both came down from your highs, you rested your head against his chest, breathing heavy as you listened to the sound of his rapid heartbeat. Lazily, you brought a hand to his chest, wanting to feel the pounding beneath his skin.

You felt Bucky’s hands come up around you and caress your bare back, now slick with sweat. “You’re fucking perfect, sugar,” he said, and you had to laugh when you could feel the husky rumble of his words inside of him.

“Pretty sure you’re the perfect one,” you said, feeling blissfully fucked out. “I think I’m becoming addicted to Bucky Barnes-induced orgasms.”

“Well,” he said, kissing the top of your head, “I am more than happy to keep you well supplied, doll. So long as you don’t mind returning the favor.”

You let out a laugh. “Not even a little bit,” you said. 

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[bigenergy777]

Get A Clue~Liam Dunbar

Warring- Cussing, Unprotected sex

"Liam, I don't see the maps! I thought you said you hid them!" You scoffed.

"I did! I know I'm new to this whole Werewolf Pack thing, okay, but I know what I'm doing!" He scoffed back.

"Oh, really, then where is it?” You stared at him while he searched vigorously through the books and papers on the table. His body looked so fit. His expression was concentrated.

 You’ve always had a crush on Liam, ever since he joined the pack. You imagined romantic and dirty thoughts about Liam as you stared.

 You pictured Liam standing there, staring at you with his beautiful blue eyes. Getting lost in his sparkling blue orbs Then you realized you weren't daydreaming, and Liam was actually staring at you.

 "Did you find them?" He asked with a hint of amusement and annoyance.

 "Wh-no. I didn't."

 "Well, if you actually looked, then you probably would have by now," Liam said, turning back to search.

 He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. You watched his every move, checking him out from head to toe. "You know what? I'll look!" He decided. He moved behind you and stopped.

 He stared into your eyes for a minute.You could feel your heart beating quickly, not knowing what to do. You know he could hear the beat of your heart just pumping like crazy.Even you could hear your own breathing without werewolf hearing.

 Liam slowly moved his left hand onto your waist, then snaked it down to your bottom. You could feel his hand grab your butt and his right hand move on your back. He slightly pushed you closer, making you lean in.

In a second, you could feel his soft lips on yours. You moved in sync. His tongue swiping against your bottom lip, and you happily accepted. You made out for quite a while.

Finally, he picked you up and set you down on the table. Slipping your shirt off kissing your neck. You throw your head back, moaning.

 Your fingers run through his soft hair. Liam left kisses down your chest, unclipping your bra, staring at your chest.

 You're gorgeous." He smiled at you. You kissed him, ripping off his shirt. Finally, you both had gotten undressed. You got off the table and got on your knees. You positioned your mouth at the height of Liam’s length.

 You stopped and looked at him. He nodded for you to continue. You took his dick in all the way.

 "Y/N," he breathed.

 His breathing was heavy, and he let out some small moans, pulling your hair back out of your face so you’re able to do it better. You felt him twitch, letting you know that he was ready to cum. You stopped immediately.

 He looked at you, confused. You gave him a smirk. Liam grabbed your upper arm and forced you to back up.

 "You're going to pay for that," he whispered huskily in your ear.

 Chills went down your spine. Your stomach churned. You loved that he wanted to take full control now. You let him turn you around so that you were against the table and your butt was at his waist level.

 You felt some pain as he slammed into you. The pain didn't last long. Pleasure takes over almost instantly.

"Liam!" You moaned.

"Shh!" He told you.

 He covered your mouth with his hands to make sure you wouldn't let out any uncontrollable and loud moans. You tried hard not to shout or make any loud noises so nobody would come in.

 Liam was banging on you like no one else. You wanted to scream so badly. This pleasure was almost too difficult to handle.

 “Liam, I’m so close. Please don’t stop,” you begged.

 He turned and placed you on the table, putting your legs on his shoulders and thrusting into you harder. You put your hand over your mouth this time.

 Your breathing was outrageous and heavy. Surprisingly, the pain was so good you began to cry.

 Liam's breath was making it worse, turning you on even more. You were very close to cumming, and you could feel him getting there, too.

 "Fuck, I'm close! Uh," he moaned quietly.

 A few more hard thrusts, and you two were all over each other. You let out a breath of relief so that you could finally relax. Liam gave you a few more kisses down your body before getting dressed.

 You got dressed fast because, at any minute, someone could come down there.

 Just then, you hear someone put a key in the keyhole. Your head snaps in the direction of the door. Your eyes widen in shock. You looked at Liam, and you both exchanged scared looks.

 "Hurry!" he says.

 "What about the maps?" You say back.

 Liam takes out some old-looking papers from under a book.

"Oh look. I found them," he smirked.

#teen wolf #teen wolf smut #liam dunbar #liam dunabr imagine #liam dunbar smut #liam Dunbar teen #teen wolf imagine

[yowyowyaoi]

Deidara's Daily Texts from the Akatsuki, Part Two

From Itachi:

I swear I'm not mad just give it back

You're STILL not over that?!

What are you even shaving? You don't have a single hair on your face!

Not my business who you date, just keep them from fighting all the time!

That's funny because Hidan said it was you, asshole.

I never ask you questions like that about Sasori, do I?!

You better hide, Kakuzu's going around collecting rent

God you're a worse gossip than Tobi!

I know it was you my whole room smells like clay!

That's a really lewd thing to say ... are you really hitting on me or are you just drunk off your ass?

Yeah but considering I use nothing in mine and you use like 200 products in yours, I'd say mine is better.

Stop it. You're not a pet person.

Okay can you just come with me? I don't ever ask you for favors do I?!

Pay me back what you owe me first.

From Hidan:

Yeah but I'm hotter. Like WAY hotter.

He loves to say stupid shit like that, he's not being serious.

Bet his dick is bigger tho.

That's literally the most stupid shit I've ever heard. We're MEANT to eat meat, fucker!

Yeah but if shark dick catches us he'll beat our asses and Kakuzu already said he's not putting me back together if it happens again!

I'll pray to Jashin for you, you pathetic atheist.

Let's get the fuck out of here and get something to eat. Kakuzu's sleeping I can swipe his wallet!

Me and you? In your DREAMS, kid. You couldn't handle this immortal dick.

Why tf would I care about that? Tits or not me and you are brothers, man.

Crablegs.

No, steak. Rare-rare. Still mooing.

Fuck a vegetable. Load it up with meat.

No wait corn is good but make sure it's seasoned with the meat blood.

That cunt did not beat my ass he caught me by surprise! I'll kill him next time I see his ugly face!

From Konan:

I don't remember my siblings so you all are it for me.

When a girl asks how old you think she is always answer like 10 years younger than you actually think! But seriously, 40?! FORTY??

Did you always know or did it take you a little bit to figure it out?

Rose petal or honeysuckle. Sometimes lilac if it's not too overwhelming.

It's a complicated situation for sure. They both feel something strongly for you but if my opinion counts? I'd stay with Sasori. At least you know what to expect from him, and I think he genuinely loves you.

I've narrowed it down to you or Hidan. If you confess I'll go easy on you. :-)

Please be gentler with him. He may hide it but he's gotten really fragile these last few months and he's in pain almost constantly.

Threatening to "beat people's asses" isn't my style. I go for the silent kill.

Wow, HE did that for YOU? That's interesting.

Take it up with Kakuzu. He's supposed to provide you all with extra money for exactly these types of things.

I would just do it, Dei. Be grateful your punishment is so light compared to what you did.

Are you two serious? You realize we're all trying our hardest NOT to attract negative attention?!

Perkier if it's chilly out ;)

I thought about it but I've had it this length for forever. It'd probably look weird long.

Only if you promise to sit still this time. I'm not gonna have you complain if it gets smudged again.

From Kakuzu

Brat. Stop.

I don't give a shit if you don't like him. He's valuable and this organization can't afford to lose him. So SUCK IT UP.

The waxing poetic was one thing but the actual poetry was nauseating.

That's coming out of your paycheck.

How is that an "emergency expense"?!

I don't care what you feel it is, "unfair" or not EVERYONE is expected to contribute to the bills. You use the lights? You pay. You take showers? You pay. You eat the food? You. PAY.

I know you two are friends. You have fairly good ideas about what he likes. Help me and I'll take off that debt you owe me from last month.

Sasori can do that for you, can't he??

Nice try, kid, but you still owe me. And you couldn’t handle my immortal love anyway.

From Tobi

I'd ask you to come with but Itachi thinks you'll try and blow him up while he's asleep.

Diabetes was just made up by assholes who don't want us to eat all the good sugar!

He's really so selfish he wouldn't let me borrow you for one night?

Hidan said it was you ...

I KNOW you like older men! Hey what if I told you I was 31, what then??

Of all the things that could be under this mask, why would "sharingan" be one of your guesses? That's ridiculous Senpai!

Come on Senpai! Leader would be mad at first but I think everyone would like a puppy!

Just tell him that you were only home 10 days this month so you should only have to pay 1/3 of the rent

If you want to but Hidan would probably call you a lot of names for wearing it

Marry me and I'll carry you everywhere all the time. It's a good deal!

Let's see if one of the others will trade with us, I hate going to really cold places

Try if you want to but Konan hit me so hard last time I saw stars for three days

Can you make me a bomb shaped like a scythe? Hidan is getting on my nerves.

From Zetsu

It's complicated, but everybody's blood has a distinct scent. Your's smells like lava and ash. It's very unique.

"Love" or not I'd watch my back, child. You'd make a prettier puppet for him than anyone else.

The years don't go by but centuries do.

Come now, you could have left SOME of those bodies in-tact for me!

I can't imagine that it would matter in the long run.

If you three don't stop attracting so much attention we'll have to pick up and move yet again!

I can tolerate human food but it doesn't compare to humans as food.

Neither. Neither of them is a suitable match for you. I'd run as far as I could from both of them.

Thank you for the offer but I don't believe your moisturizer would be effective on my plant skin.

No, not especially. Things are much the same to me.

If Kakuzu said no then there's no point in asking Leader. Kakuzu holds the money with an iron fist and Nagato has never once interfered with his decisions.

A bit more rest and some decent food would do you a world of good.

From Nagato

Then I must not understand true art because all I can see is property damage and unwanted negative attention being drawn towards our organization.

I understand your frustration but please continue to work with him. I need Sasori to stay here and you're the only one Tobi will listen to.

Oh? It seems it may be time I had a talk with you young ones then.

I see no need for further recruits.

Yes, thank you. Konan used it on my hair and it worked wonderfully.

I'm aware you don't like him but please endeavor to coexist in this group with him. Also remember how precarious his health is before you pull another stunt like the one you and Hidan did yesterday.

I won't stand in the way of your personal goals but surely you realize how extreme self-detonation sounds?

I got you all these phones as a way to communicate efficiently with your partners and with the entire group over long distances. NOT to play games. Kakuzu tells me the phone bill is $200 over it's usual amount due to unathorized games and extra features. If this keeps up I'll take them back.

Next time please be sure you're checking who you're sending explicit pictures to. I assume that was meant only for Sasori's eyes? Now I have Tobi and two others ready to kill him to be your partner.

From Kisame

I shouldn't admit it but it WAS very funny.

But what would be the purpose? Samehada steals chakra, aesthetics don't matter.

I can't tell the future but I can guess that if he's stayed this long, then he probably means to stay with you for life.

Yeah well if one more "accidentally" goes off under his window while he's napping I'm going to make a sandwich of your fingers, kid.

I suppose that would be fun but good luck getting the money from Kakuzu.

I can't even imagine the lives they live. It's really more merciful for them that we extract their demon and send them to the afterlife.

Our relationship is so much more than that but all you immature brats ever ask about is the sex aspect. Shameful.

There's no way he bought that fresh, I can smell it all the way back in my room!

Wear your cloak and perhaps borrow Sasori's as well, it's extremely windy and chilly.

Have you considered a haircut, maybe? Or to dye it black like my Itachi's?

Lol relax it was a joke, no need for threats.

From Sasori

I did get them. Beautiful, but Kakuzu would kill you if he knew you were using these phones for such lewd purposes.

A "magic cure" doesn't beat eating right, going to bed at a decent hour, and exercising once in a while, brat.

Funny how they all think I'M the pervert here when YOU'RE the one who came at ME so aggressively. Brat.

I can think of a much better use for all of those pretty mouths of yours, Dei. Come see me and I'll show you what I mean.

Maybe I need to get you a dictionary for Christmas. Because you STILL don't seem to understand what "covert" and "stealth" mean.

Yeah well you nearly dying because of your own carelessness isn't what I'd call fun. So stop it before I end you myself.

I would never.

"<3" is not a heart. I don't care what idiots say. A real human heart is NOT shaped like that. I'll bring you one of my anatomy textbooks so you can see for yourself.

Yes, I suppose. But don't make it a habit please.

Your breathing sounded strange. Come see me for a checkup. Now.

I don't care for when he sends us on missions to cold places. Bad for you and puts a lot of wear on Hiroku.

Trust me, you DO snore. Like a steam engine.

Why you can't simply ignore him, I'll never understand.

Your eating habits are atrocious, brat.

You're quite the silly one, aren't you?

Mm. You know it's not in me to be jealous. But. If I *ever* see him touch you like that again it'll be the last time his fucking hand is attached to his body. You're MINE.

It's just baffling to me that you won't do it. You'd be the centerpiece of the entire collection! Come on I KNOW you love attention!

I wouldn't trust Hidan around something like that.

Goodnight, my sweet prince. See you in the morning ... if the poison doesn't take you out :-)

As per the Inbox request of @tulipunainenruusu 😊

[ladytauria]

Hello! Idk if you're still taking quick prompts but if you are jaytim with fanboy tim and dadbod Jason? (If you are no longer taking ty even so!!)

i always welcome prompts ❤️

i'm SO sorry for how long this took ^^; i've been working on it since you sent me the prompt, but i had too many ideas that just didn't end up going anywhere. to tell you the truth, i'm not sure this one really captures what you want ^^; if it doesn't, just lemme know~

AO3

“You’re not as sneaky as you think you are, replacement.” Jason’s shadow falls over Tim; a not-so-subtle menace in his set jaw, the coil and flex of his muscles.

Tim’s shoulders tighten. He doesn’t look up from the schematics of his bo staff. Instead, he brings up the taser module, making a (likely nonsense) note in the margins. Idly, he says, “Oh?”

Peripherally, he sees Jason cross his arms. “Cut the shit, Drake. You’ve been watching me. I want to know why.”

Fuck.

Tim knew it was only a matter of time, but… he’d still been hoping for more of it. “I watch everyone,” he says, because he does. He makes another note.

Jason huffs. He snatches the tablet from Tim and tosses it aside, ignoring Tim’s protest.

“I was working on that!”

“Bullshit,” Jason snaps. “You were—spying.”

Tim wrinkles his nose. Without the tablet to focus on, he’s forced to look up and meet the full force of Jason’s glare. It, unfortunately, does not make the man any less attractive. Especially when combined with his tight work out top and low hanging sweatpants. Especially, especially when his face is still flushed from exertion; curls a tangled mess and sweat glistening on his skin. Tim’s throat is dry. He forces himself to swallow. “I wasn’t.”

Spying sounds so—illicit.

He was just…

Observing.

Jason in action is a beautiful thing. The way he moves—silent, even in his heaviest boots. Graceful, despite the sheer bulk of him. Every blow is precise. Every movement sure. He’s aware of his body, keenly, in a way that lets him make deadly use of every inch of it.

It’s captivating.

Tim doesn’t get to see it often. Both of them have their own bases of operation, and on patrol, he usually has his own opponents. But sometimes, if he’s lucky, Jason will stop by the Cave to take advantage of Bruce’s combat simulators at the same time Tim is there.

Tim is never low on projects. It’s not hard to linger; keeping his hands busy and his head lowered, while he watches Jason train.

Unfortunately, Jason is just as attuned to his surroundings as the rest of them. Maybe even moreso, considering. He was bound to feel eyes on him, bound to connect them to Tim.

Maybe it could have gone on longer if that was the only time Tim watched him. Maybe he would have chalked it up to professional curiosity, or research.

But no. Tim’s old crush had to resurface, and now he’s hyperaware of Jason’s presence whenever they’re in the same room, drawn to him unconsciously, thoughtlessly. He catches himself when he can, but it only takes a second for his attention to slip back Jason’s way.

It’s all Dick’s fault. Dick and that stupid photo. He hadn’t even meant to take it! He’d just been sitting in the cave, going through the memory card when Dick twisted into some feat of acrobatic flexibility while mid-conversation. Tim had snapped the photo on a whim.

He hadn’t realized Jason was in the background, finishing his weights routine. Hadn’t realized the camera had captured, perfectly, the moment he wiped his brow with the hem of his tank. Not until he was getting ready to print the photos, and that one popped on his computer screen. Jason’s presence had been obvious, then, and Tim’s eyes has been drawn to his midriff. To the plushness of his relaxed muscles, the way his belly sat over the waistband of his sweats. The trail of dark hair starting at his belly button, the pink stretch marks at his hips and stomach. The faded autopsy scar, barely visible. His love handles.

Tim’s mouth had gone dry. He’d wanted, very much, to get his hands, his mouth on that warm, soft flesh. Sink his teeth into the fat on his hips; drag his nose through the trail of dark curls; follow the lines of his scar with his tongue.

He’d snapped his laptop shut and buried his burning face in his pillow until he had no other choice but to get up and take a cold shower.

That should have been it.

Jason was hardly the first attractive man Tim had met, let alone worked in close quarters with. (Hello? His embarrassing pre-teen crush on Kon? Not that he’d known that for what it was, then.) But for some reason—Jason tripped him up. He just couldn’t stop noticing him.

His body, first. The softness of his muscles at rest. The curve of his bicep. The broadness of his shoulders. The way his shirts always seemed to hug his pecs. His thighs.

The hard line of his jaw; the way he never lets his stubble get very far. The plush bow of his lips. The bump in his nose; the way it was a little crooked, broken one too many times. The way certain curls always, without fail, fall in his face.

His hands. Large palms. Scarred knuckles. Long, broad fingers. His nails are always clean and well trimmed.

Then the way he moves, in and out of costume. Going from a predator, violence incarnate, to something softer, but no less steady. No less sure.

It was awful. Horrible. Embarrassing. Especially since he thought he’d left behind all of this years ago. Yeah, his crush on Robin-Jason had been far worse than his crush on Robin-Dick—but he’d been older, and Jason had been… closer to earth. Grounded in a way that felt like Tim had a chance of maybe, one day, reaching him.

Then he’d come back as Hood, and. Well. Thinking he was hot wasn’t new, but sometime between all the murder attempts and the reconciliation…, Tim had put it behind him. Jason was Jason. Annoying, delighting in finding just the right buttons to push. The kind of mother hen Dick could only dream of being, but without Alfred’s subtlety.

He delighted in toying with Tim. Confiscating his caffeine, dangling it above his head with a smug smirk until Tim reminded him (with a well-placed jab) that he had bat-training too. Chucking granola bars at his head whenever he felt Tim needed them—which was any time he came in the Cave and found Tim working. Dragging him off mid-patrol to stop at a food cart, because Tim just had to try something they offered. Bantering with Tim long after Bruce lost patience with them both. He’d quickly become one of Tim’s favorite people to work with. They just… clicked.

It—

Maybe wasn’t surprising, that he’d fallen again.

Not that it mattered. He’d fallen terribly hard once again, and now Jason had noticed. Because of course he had. Tim might be subtle, but the entire family lived for untangling subtleties. And, again. Situational awareness. Jason had it in spades, beaten only by Cass. Maybe Alfred.

He’s going to kick Tim’s ass. Again.

Jason narrows his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, Drake, but I haven’t done shit, okay? I’ve been playing by all Daddy’s precious rules—“

Tim’s eyes widen. “What—“

“So whatever you think I did, or I’m gonna do, you can stop.” He pauses. “I thought we were—okay.”

Tim stares at him. Now that he’s looking at him—really looking, instead of bracing for shouting—he can see the hurt hidden under the anger. His body language is aggressive, sure, but isn’t that always Jason’s first line of defense? He rushes to assure him.

“We are. Jason, we’re fine. I’m not—I know you’re not planning anything. I���m not worried about you going back to crime lording, I promise.” Though, ‘following all Daddy’s rules’ is a stretch. Tim is pretty sure Bruce didn’t approve of liberating weapons from illegal shipments, or child predators conveniently disappearing. But Tim isn’t going to say anything, now or… ever, probably. As long as Jason isn’t threatening any of them, or setting proverbial (and literal) fires all over Gotham, Tim doesn’t care if some of his methods were a little more severe, a little more permanent, than Bruce’s.

He does, however, care that Jason thinks Tim believes he’s going to betray them.

Jason falters. He looks… unsteady, in a way Tim hasn’t seen since the early days of their reconciliation. “Really.”

“Really,” Tim promises.

Jason’s brow knits, then smooths, dogged determination replacing surprise. “Then why the fuck are you always watching me?”

Tim can’t fight the blush in time. It spreads over his cheeks—a slow, creeping warmth his pale skin does nothing to hide. “…no reason?” he tries.

Jason raises an eyebrow, cocking his head in a near perfect imitation of Alfred.

Tim’s mind races, forming and discarding half a dozen plans in minutes. He can see no way out of this that doesn’t damage their relationship. A distraction, maybe—but Jason will be back.

Maybe it’s better to come clean, then. Just—get it out there, and over with, if he’s going to ruin things anyway.

So Tim sighs, long and loud, and covers his face with his hands. “You’re really hot, okay?” he says into his palms, half hoping they’re enough to muffle him, distort his words so that Jason hears something different. Less damning.

Silence.

It stretches on for long enough that Tim dares to peek up at him through his fingers. Jason is staring back at him. His arms have fallen to his sides now, and the flush on his face is no longer just from his earlier workout. His mouth is parted, just slightly.

Tim’s movement, however, seems to jolt him back into himself. He shuts his mouth. The blush darkens. Spreads. He pushes a hand through his hair. “I, um.”

“Sorry,” Tim adds quickly. “I don’t— I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Um. I’ll stop…” He gestures, vaguely. “And, um, I’m just… gonna… go.”

Jason swallows hard. He grabs Tim’s arm before he can skirt around him to go—somewhere. Smother himself with a pillow, maybe. “You, uh. I don’t…” He clears his throat. “Do you really think…” He uses his free hand to gesture broadly at himself.

“Yes,” Tim says, immediately.

“Oh.”

Jason visibly flounders. He doesn’t release Tim’s arm. He also doesn’t look away, scrutinizing Tim’s face intently as Tim’s stomach flips and flutters. This isn’t going the way he expected. At all. He’s good at thinking on his feet in the field, but when it comes to people… he’s always done better with a script to follow. A part to play. He doesn’t know his role here, what Jason wants from him.

Finally, Jason seems to gather himself. He straightens, meeting Tim’s gaze evenly, despite the lingering pink.

“You think I’m hot. Is that—all, or…?”

Tim’s first impulse is to deny it. But… in for a penny, in for a pound. It’s not like it can get much worse. He hopes. “No. It’s, um. More than that.”

“Oh.”

They stare at each other. Tim is redder than Jason—he can feel it—but neither one of them is unaffected.

“Do… would…” Jason clears his throat. “Would you like to get coffee, sometime?”

The question is a lifeline, and Tim grabs on desperately. He knows how to do this part. “I never turn down coffee. There’s a place near mine that also makes really good tea?”

Jason smiles at him, eyes crinkling at the corners, and fuck— Tim is so gone for him it’s pathetic. “I’ve been. Tomorrow, at… five?”

“Perfect.” If it wasn’t, Tim would clear his schedule.

“Great.” Jason nods, and then they stare at each other. The moment drags. Tim feels his face burn hotter; sees the flush on Jason’s face grow darker. Awkwardness sits like a stone on his chest.

His throat works once. Twice. Then he managed, “I’m just gonna…” He gestures vaguely, with his free arm, toward the stares.

Jason nods, “Oh—yeah. Right. And I’m going to—shower.” His hand stays on Tim’s arm; the heat of his skin burning like a brand. Tim waits, but Jason doesn’t let go. Finally, he flicks his gaze toward it, prompting Jason’s to follow. He jerks away as if burnt, leaving Tim almost too cold.

“Ah—sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Tim assures. “I’ll, um. See you to— later.” Tomorrow, definitely, but also probably at dinner, given the time. Maybe on patrol, too.

“Mhm. Have— uh. Have a good night.” Jason almost seems to wince as he says it, but Tim smiles.

“You too.”

And then he makes for the stairs—not quite running, but close.

He needs—a minute. Or two. Or, you know. A few hundred. First to mourn that absolutely terrible bit of social interaction, but— also.

He has a date with Jason Todd!

The urge to pump his fist is strong, but he resists. He can’t, however, do anything to stop the giddy smile from spreading across his face.

[woodsfae]

B5 s04e03 The Summoning previous episode - table of contents

OK. I saw a spoiler saying that Lyta blew up a planet with her mind. And now every episode I'm like "IS SHE GOING TO BLOW UP A PLANET NOW" and she hasn't done it. This episode title isn't exactly planet-explosion material to me. And also, planet-exploding sounds like season finale type of shit to me. But I'm getting very impatient for the planetary explosions.

Love Susan's new mission, but am worried that she's going to get picked off out there alone, like G'Kar. 

And she taught herself Minbari uh. To a degree. lol!! Assigned translator politely, but firmly. 

"Tell the crew: anyone who laughs answers to me personally."

I am personally impressed that Delenn and Marcus both contained themselves. 

Wow, G'Kar is not having a good time. Ooof. fuckin. Too tragic! Give G'Kar a few wins to balance out the entire lifetime of extreme shit. 

Delenn voiceover after the credits. They are leaning hard on recapping every character's whereabouts at the beginning of each episode. I am assuming they didn't want the audience to be too lost if they missed an episode or two as it aired? 

Zack Allen is feeling authoritative! Telling Delenn what must be done. An unfortunately for my dislike of him, he is right, and they ought to go look for G'Kar. 

Londo got a haircut, looks like. That crest is definitely shorter. I find Londo and his storyline to be sad and tired. 

Torturers are unionized on Centauri, lovely. 

And this is an excessively awful fate for anyone, let alone one of my long-term faves like G'Kar. 

Vir: Emperor Cartagia needs to be stopped, but I don't know about regicide. Cartagia: Tried to chop G'Kar's hands off, lol. Vir: Londo, you have my murder blessing.

Zack Allen vs a rogue faction of PsiCorps? A Shadows-collaborating wing? 

not-Kosh has robbed Lyta of all but one of her belongings! Did he even let her keep a change of clothes? Everyone's got such unique problems. Lyta's is that she's being terrorized by a god having a meltdown over realizing mortality is a thing that applies to themself.

introducing the one, the only, psipuppet!Garibaldi. He has had repeated interest in PsiCorps and has investigated them, has contacts in them. I wonder if that's going to help him resist or anything.

Dang Lyta. I don't remember seeing the gills before. not-Kosh is a dick. 

Partner: "Dark Garibaldi! Dark Kotch!"

His memory of B5 is imperfect. 

fuck off, Londo. 

G'Kar won't oblige their oppressors...and he doesn't let a single hitch hit his voice when speaking with Londo, either. Speaks volumes. 

"I hope she appreciates it," & "Me too, *glances at Susan*" is toooo funny. 

There is no end to the drama Cartagia is into. 

The torture is gratuitous. The way G'Kar's story and later writing is handled is definitely my most major gripe. I don't find it to be well done for a lot of reasons I might write an essay about one of these days.

I'm afraid I don't have any theories about who was able to override B5's security. Sheridan? And reveal his escape in a dramatic flashback later? 

lol, yes. And to disprove Delenn's naysayers so immediately and firmly. 

Protester: "Captain we thought you were dead." Sheridan: "I was. I'm better now." 

Sheridan's plotline on the other hand really tickles my fancy. His legend is fucking wild, and now he's bartered for his life with the eldest of the elder gods, and returned from the dead and promised Delenn he'd do it again. 

Lorien is there! On B5! lmfao. I guess when you've hung out with two gods, fought and killed other gods, it ain't no thing to have the elder god hanging out. 

Oh fuck, the Vorlons destroyed an entire planet and it's 4 million inhabitants in order to remove the Shadows and their influence. That is an extreme position and escalation. It kinda just makes sense to me that this is an ideological struggle between the Vorlons and Shadows. That's a lot of lower order races caught in a really big vice. 

And the League knows much less about Vorlons and their weaknesses than the Shadows and theirs. 

epic! It is continually impressive how much this sci-fi feels like high fantasy, and how correct and exciting it is for the main characters to create their own great deeds that rival the gods and all their powers. 

Also....I cannot believe I was excited about planets blowing up at the beginning of the episode. I didn't mean blow up planets like that!"

and another!

[yanderelovlies]

I mean- giving Bo head and him pounding you aint a bad idea tho 👀 if you dont mind ofc- take ur time gurl

god i want Bo to breed me lowkey........anyway i got you love

🔪THIS FIC IS 18+ AGELESS AND BLANK BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED 🔪

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You've learned many things while sleeping with Bo, and one of them was to always make sure you were not going into work the next day when you wanted to suck on his dick. Something about the act drove him feral, and by the end of it you could barely move. Since you had tomorrow off you decided on your way home that you didn't want to walk tomorrow either.

Walking into your apartment you see bo sitting on the couch, head tilted back as soft snores come from him. Ah he was asleep…even better.

You quietly put your things down then snuck your way to him. Once in front of him you got down on your knees so you were staring hungrily at his dick straight on.  No longer able to wait, you undone his pants, and pulled both his pants and boxers down allowing his semi hard cock come out. He must be dreaming of you…might as well make it a reality. You began by kissing up his shaft till you got to the tip.  You then licked down his shaft continuing the process till his dick was fully hard. 

Since Bo has always been too big for you to handle on your own you slowly took what you could in your mouth, and once you started a pace you had a hand come up and wrap around what you couldnt fit. You could hear the whines that left him as he shifted a bit as your pace began to pick up.You could feel pride bubble in your chest knowing that you were making me like this, but that was slightly replaced by fear when you felt something on the back of your head pushing it down making you take more of him in your mouth.

“A-aah! Puppy….i need to feel more of you.”

You relaxed realizing it was just Bo finally waking up from your mistrastions. You scooted up closer to him, your hands finding themselves gripping on to his jeans as you head came closer and closer to his hips, and his further further down your sweet tight throat. You felt the hand on the back of your head grab a fist full of your hair. Using that grip to pull you off his cock, looking up at him. His usual cheery demeanor no longer visible as pure lust, and need took over.

“Couldn't wait huh puppy….You needed a good fucking that bad?”

You whimpered as you nodded your head the best you could. Bo smirked down at you pleased by how truthful you were.

“Dont worry puppy……Ill fuck you so hard you wont be able to THINK of anything else.”

He kept that promise that night. Once your mouth was around his dick again he used his grip on your hair to move at a pace he wanted. Sometimes he would keep your face squished to his pelvis, while his cock was down your throat. It felt so nice to have his dick wrapped around your warm tight throat. He would pull you off to allow you to breath for a bit before face fucking you once again. 

“G-God puppy! Your throat is so fucking..t-tight!”

“Im gonna..paint you white…so everyone knows who..you belong to!”

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!”

Due to his knot he can't cum down your pretty throat like he wants to, but that just makes him quick to take you off his cock, into his arms, and throw you onto your bed. He takes off his clothes on his way to you, then all but rips off your clothes throwing them somewhere.

“I'm gonna fill you up so much puppy!” 

he takes his dick and lines it up with your entrance slowly pushing himself into you.

“We are gonna have so many litters after this.”  

This was the last time he was soft with you that night . Once he was fully seated in you he fully pulled himself out once again before slamming into you making you back arch moaning his name. His long thick cock hitting every sweet spot with every thrust making you see stars. You could hear the bed creak and crack with each powerful thrust. He was making sure to fuck you into the bed. Making sure you will only be thinking about him.making sure you NEED him. 

“F-fuck take it! Take it all, p-puppy!”

“I-I can't wait to see you full with my pups.”

“F-ffuuucck!...so tightttttt.”

When you started to feel like you were ready to cum Bo stops making you cry out.

“N-now now…be patient puppy…you might like this.”

Bo moves back a bit before grabbing the back of your knees, and folds you in half. Once he enters you again you could feel every inch until it hit your cervix. Tears began to stream down your face as he began thrusting into you again. As each thrust became harder and more rough you could feel your eyes cross, and tongue hang out as drool dripped down and slid between your bodies. As he watched the drool go down he noticed a bulge in your stomach right where his dick would be. He pressed down on the bulge making you squirm, arch your back, and moan loudly.

“God look at you….already a slut for my cock.”

“Your insides will be in the shape of my cock. Now and forever!”

As much as he would love to keep this going he needs to cum in you so bad. He NEEDED to see you full of his cum. Full of his pups. Full of HIM. Not long after that his thrust became quicker and sloppier and his hand reached between your bodies rubbing sloppy circles on your clit.

“Cum with me p-puppy Cum…With…MMMEEEE”

Feeling his knot inside you causing white hot pleasure to course through you as you could feel yourself cum alongside him.

Bo collapsed on top of you still buried inside you due to his knot. You couldn't feel anything but the pleasure still coursing through your veins. This was exactly what you needed, and it made you excited for the next 10 rounds of that night.

[cartoonscientist]

this has probably been touched on before but so much of fionna and cake ties into the theme of self-value and self care by making references to (what is traditionally viewed as female-centered) fan culture and specifically the debate around whether fanfiction should have “some basic level of quality” or whether it should be considered an unbridled form of self expression closer to art therapy than writing a professional novel (it obviously comes down on the side of the latter)

the theme of Simon not wanting to discuss his “old stuff” that he finds embarrassing and painful because he wrote it in a very bad place mentally, what he sees as mediocre, emotionally masturbatory wish fulfillment that says way too much about his psyche, although it’s shown that other people get a lot out of the Fionna and Cake series, suggesting that it’s a versatile work of fiction which readers can interpret to fit their own emotional needs even if it’s not exactly “high art”

or Scarab’s ultimately self-destructive obsession with wiping out what he considers a “mediocre” “abomination”, even though everyone around him is telling him to chill and let it go and focus on more important things because it doesn't really matter. for years, and even today, fandom has been plagued with (usually cishet male these days, but women used to make up a far larger portion of the snark/anti-fan community) fans who don't only dislike shipping and original characters, they actively seek out creators who do enjoy these things to harass them. or, I'm sure you've seen those people on twitter who get really mad about the fact that leaving long critical notes on ao3 fics (when not prompted or specifically requested not to) is widely considered Pretty Fucking Mean

both Simon and Scarab are basically being told by the narrative to take it easy, to not care so hard about like, the ontological definitions of "art" and "quality". Simon learns to value Fionna and her world, realizing that they have a life beyond the circumstances he believed he created them under. (but when he again tries to assume control, to sacrifice his own well-being for people he feels are more deserving of love than him, his space god girlfriend basically slaps him and says "you are so special and amazing on your own simon, you don't need to hurt yourself, you don't need to try to handle everything by yourself, and actually sacrificing yourself when you don't need to is kind of a dick move, and yes I know from experience because I'm omniscient now" [which ties into what's kind of the thesis statement of the show, Simon and Fionna both feeling like they're not special and don't deserve to exist or receive care and affection because they aren't exceptional, ie don't have magical abilities/live in an adventurous fantasy world; basically, you don't NEED to be super talented and amazing and saintlike to deserve to be happy, you just need to BE, and do your best as a human])

FOOTNOTE: when Scarab told Fionna that what she did wrong was exist, it was painfully reminiscent of transphobic (and anti-ND) harassment (and ultimately added another layer of satisfaction and validation to his defeat) and tbh it's hard for me to believe the writers didn't intend that at least subconsciously

[iamthecomet]

-starts building a pillow fort in your askbox because I'm in here so often-

This one requires a bit of set up, but here goes; RainDrop roommates scenario.

The church is doing some renovations, and that means shifting the ghouls around a bit temporarily and putting them into whatever available space they have.

Somehow Rain and Dew wind up sharing the tiniest room out of the lot.

It's big enough that they can fit their beds in there, and there's an attached bathroom, but they have to share, and, "For fuck's sake why do you have so much stuff?!" "Just because you have two shirts-" "Could you stop fucking farting?!" "I HAVE IBS YOU BITCH-"

It's not going well at all.

They're basically at each other's throats despite normally getting along very well.

And then one morning, they come out of their room and all of the other ghouls are like, "Something happened."

The whole morning is tense and awkward, and then Cumulus, poor, dear sweet Cumulus, accidentally offers Dew some cookies and he basically shrieks, "I SAW HIS PENIS!" like he just realized what happened, and, well, now at least Cumulus knows, too.

Elsewhere, Rain is having an existential crisis, because he got out of the shower, realized he left his towel on his bed, fresh from the laundry, and figured he could just grab it, because Dew was asleep and-

Dew was not asleep.

Never mind that Dew had woken up because he was gonna jack off thinking Rain had already left the room.

So they were both in the room with their dicks at and, well, "Oh, it kind bends a little to the left, huh?"

Suffice to say things from then on are just, yeah.

-placing stuffed animals around-

I didn't mean to sit on this one so long, Lamp but it makes me giggle EVERY SINGLE TIME I read it. These fucking guys, you know? Rain and Dew both strike me as ghouls who need their alone time. They're both too much like cats. They'll come find you when they want attention but until they leave them alone. So it's no wonder that they want to kill each other when forced into a small space. I'm just dying over Dew's trauma. Poor Dew. Not expecting an eye-full of Rain dick. Unable to handle it. Bet they get along better after that though.

[sureuncertainty]

okay so like how do you set boundaries with an internet friend that you don't wanna be friends with anymore? this is no one here, this is someone i know via instagram and I kinda just realized is actually a dick to me? all the time? and i don't wanna talk to them anymore much less have them edit my book (which they offered to do and I stupidly already said yes)

I don't wanna block them without saying anything, i literally have trauma around being blocked for no reason BUT like is that worse than like? just ghosting them forever? cause that's what I've been kinda doing already

this person CLAIMS to like my book but they've also given me stupid super nit-picky and mean spirited criticisms on it that make no sense that are literally like suspension of disbelief things (also they tried to say that it was "unrealistic" for Cain to not be arrested for tax fraud, which like. buddy you're european and you have no fucking idea what CEO billionaires in the US are fucking capable of getting away with apparently lol)

These criticisms were basically unprompted btw. they were like oh can i make some comments and I said yeah sure thinking it'd be something small and then they proceeded to tell me that my entire story makes no sense and kinda mock it and make fun of it and make me feel dumb

so they made me really insecure about my writing and also literally none of my headmates like them and we get that we can't stop them from reading our book when it's published BUT we just don't want to talk to them about it or have them read it for free

i asked a friend about it and they think they're jealous of me and that's why they say they like my book but are also picking it apart and idk if that's true but I don't think they're like... PURPOSEFULLY being an asshole they just are. i literally dread every message I get from them. OH also they called one of my headmates an ableist slur which like okay fine, it's a common slur that people throw around but it was still hmmmm not great (we are not out as a system on instagram btw)

they send me videos that are completely irrelevant to my interests, they've been BUGGING me about when i'll send them the chapters of silence agenda I told them they could edit (which now will not be happening lol). also our very first conversation was them trying to tell me that studying titanic history doesn't matter WHEN I WAS LITERALLY GRIEVING AFTER THE SUBMERSIBLE DISASTER LAST SUMMER AND VENTING MY FRUSTRATIONS ABOUT IT. and i did snap at them that time and we worked it out and both apologized for making assumptions which was fine but still. like i almost blocked them the moment they sent me that message and now i really really really wish I had bc I feel like i'm in too deep

we also have several mutuals in common and i would worry that if I blocked them on everything, they'd ask one of our common mutuals about it (or a mutual would share my art or something) and they'd realize that I have them blocked, and then i'd have to like. explain myself. and i don't feel comfortable telling those mutuals about it bc i DO NOT want to be that person that's like 'hey jsyk you're following this person who is Problematique' bc i DESPISE when people do that

anyway yeah i just don't know how to handle it and any advice would be appreciated. idk how i've been putting up with this person's bullshit for so long like dear lord i kinda felt like i yanked the wool off my eyes today and realized how fucking awful they are to me

[mrwoeful]

monster Augustine and Henri thoughts

NSFW!!!

shenji. I blame you so much for this. You are fucking immaculate. You plagued my mind with mid transformation Lambert I must fucking write about him. Erm. It gets a bit possessive!!!

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Oh my god ok.

A scenario were Augustine is always in a state of mid transformation, looking like himself but having a few features like his full monster body.

And I recently found out that ghouls get HORNY?

Chefs kiss.

The lovely Lambert we know was so fucking pent up. Imagine him jerking himself off as he strained any growls and moans. He's thinking of his wife and Henri. Bicon.

But when he found out that Henri was alive, awake, and roaming the bunker Lambert fucking had to drag him to his nest.

Augustine didn't mind getting shot by Henri a few times, Henri doesn't know who he was at first, but after kidnapping Henri safe and soundly to the chapel...

Yeah.

Personal headcanons of these guys. Augustine is 6'2. Not terribly tall. But mid transformation Augustine is a 6'10. Meanwhile Henri is quite an average sized man.

Henri was so fucking confused and nearly cried when he realized that this was Augustine, hugging him immediately and started to cry out in tears.

These two had to comfort eachother.

Now Augustine couldn't transform to his middle stage, not after a long while. After almost everyone was dead. Not until his animalistic bloodthirsty fades away into an intelligent creature who had to bear the guilt of killing his comrades. He's just glad that Henri was a good bunker princess and not die to him.

But after emotions where settled, Augustine told him the real reason why he brought Henri there. Oh, the reddened, embarrassed bbg face Henri had was priceless.

Augustine would lead Henri to the bunker showers. They both need to be clean. Stinky bastards.

but after that, it was cum-dumping time.

Nothing but pure, primal lust that he would (consensually) push and put into Henri, his body certainly grew larger, something Henri knew immediately.

Shenji gave me this thought (damn you/lh) Augustine would roughly push Henri into the mating nest, all pent up as he spouted filthy words about how much he just wanted to do nothing but claim Henri, mark him, show that this human was his and only his.

I dunno know man if ghouls had a thing for claiming Augustine surely shows this behavior.

OUGH

Thank god Henri has a full suit so he can hide any mating marks on his body. He'd probably steal Augustine's scarf too.

Don't get me started on the pure animosity of Augustine when he goes full ghoul on henri's ass. Literally. Henri gets USED.

oh my god Henri felt like a whore in every good way possible.

Something between these two started off so sweet, tender and attentive to feral, rough and careless.

Henri sure loves getting man handled though.

Even in mid stage, lamby can certainly pick up Henri and use him like a Fleshlight.

Imagine the growls and moans coming from lamb oh my god 😻😻😻😻

And don't get me started on the noises from Henri. He screams in nothing but bliss and cries from the lovely overstimulation. It hurts in such a good way.

imagine the size difference if Henri was on top riding him 🙏 he'd be so embarrassed,,, augh,,

They do this all in the chapel. God has left us and them. But they are happily sinning.

Should Augustine get a canid dick or normal dick in mid transformation just so we get some knotting 🤔

Knowing what monster fuckers we are, probably canid dick. In knotting we trust.

Let these two have fun.

Im losing ideas but AHHHHH

I'm not normal

[defiantsuggestions]

The thing is, I don't think they were intentionally lying

I think they honistly thought I was too sensitive

I've seen them interact with each other. Huge explosive arguments, constantly trying to rip each other apart at the drop of a hat.

And every time I voiced a complaint, they brushed me off as naive.

"People argue! This is normal!"

Screaming, swearing, fights that last for days. They got onto it over a fork in the sink once and it resulted into a two week blow up that resulted in one of them taking me out of the house to live with a neighbor.

And the only reason we moved back is because the one that dragged me off to a neighbor ended up getting into a fight with that neighbor over how to put groceries away. This neighbor was a abuse survivor themself and when they wouldn't roll over at my parent's threats my parent turned around and dragged me out into the street, raving about how selfish and intolerable our neighbor was.

You know. The neighbor that was helping us when we would otherwise be homeless. The neighbor whose only crime was wanting the groceries put away in specific locations, in THEIR kitchen, in THEIR HOUSE, which they had kindly offered us.

It took my parent TWO WEEKS to ruin things with this poor neighbor who was just trying to help.

Family moved back together again, and kinda shrugged the entire ordeal off. Used the story to justify their idiotic "family is everything, anyone outside our bubble is evil and wants to use us" nonsense when it was them who caused the entire fucking escapade.

I think that, because they do this, because they constantly start fights with anyone who dares to stay around them too long, they just...think that's what the world is. When someone realizes they're abusive, toxic assholes, they leave. Of course they do! No one wants to be hurt!

But instead of realizing they were being dicks and trying to be better, my family decides it's on the other people for leaving. "Oh, they weren't REALLY friends! Friends accept you for who you are, they don't leave! Anyone who cares wouldn't give a shit about what we say!"

They make themselves into the victim.

And so, they chase away anyone who thinks this is wrong. The only people who stay are either the ones who also think screaming is normal, or the ones who are physically incapable of leaving.

Which put me in the position where I was simultaneously everyone's favorite, and everyone's go-to for punishment.

I was quiet. Understanding, I didn't argue, the perfect people pleaser, they could project anything they wanted onto me, and they could get endless emotional support from me, and then they could hurt me when they were upset at someone else, and it never resulted in an argument because I didn't scream back.

They adored me. They had no idea who the fuck I was as a person.

But I think they truly believed what they were saying, because to them, if someone claims to live a life without screaming death threats at their loved ones, well that person has to be lying, or trying to sell them something. They do not understand, they refuse to comprehend, that they are causing their own problems by acting like this.

I do not have screaming matches with my friends. My family refuses to believe this. They insist that I'm having these blow up fights and just don't want to admit it because I'm too sensitive and naive and can't handle the real world.

Well. Guess what. I've been in the real world for a while, and I've been doing fine, and I haven't had a blow up argument once.

And it's not like I didn't try to make things better. I've tried and tried and tried for so long to communicate. I've begged them to just talk to me, to give me their expectations without screaming, and they have always, always made the choice to hurt me instead.

Because that's what they want in their relationships. They want someone to hurt. They want to have a punching bag and they want an emotional confidant to give them unconditional love, and when they can't have both they wallow in their own misery and tell themselves it's everyone else's fault.

I don't doubt they loved me. I think, if the situation called for it, they would have willingly suffered for me, to the point of death.

But they loved me for the wrong reasons. They loved me in ways that were torture. They loved me without actually caring about me as a person. They loved me, but they weren't willing to listen, and if I was ever unhappy with the pain then it was on me for not loving them enough to forgive them.

They think that the presence of love is enough to make them a good family, because they think all other families just hate each other and abandon each other, so if they show kindness every now and then, then that's what makes them healthy.

And that's wrong. They are wrong.

Love isn't enough. Good moments aren't enough. Declarations of affection aren't enough.

You can't beat someone into the ground and expect them to forget it happened. You can't terrorize them and then buy ice cream and tell them they're your whole world and expect everything to be okay.

You have to want me to be safe and unharmed even when we disagree on something. Being mad because I've done something stupid doesn't give you the right to threaten me or hit me.

Disagreements are going to happen. Discussions can get heated, especially if it's something both people care about.

But a disagreement shouldn't lead to people doing everything they can to hurt the other person.

If you're mad and me for something and want to discuss it, if I do something wrong and it needs to be corrected, it should be a discussion. It shouldn't feel like you don't love me anymore and you just want me to suffer. That's not healthy. And I am perfectly within my rights to not want to spend my time with people who wish me harm.

And that's why I left the first chance I could.

They're never going to understand. They don't want to understand. They're angry and they think the world owes them a punching bag, and they don't care to learn any better.

They had so many chances. I reached out so many times.

That's the difference between someone who wants to get better and improve the relationship and someone who doesn't.

I would have given them my whole world if they could have put in the effort to not ruin as much of my life as they could.

It still hurts. I know them so well. I spent decades with them. I know their secrets. I'm their favorite. I'm convinced they're truthful when they express their love.

But they have no desire or intention of making their love hurt any less.

And it's their loss, because I'm not going to spend my life as their punching bag.

Love alone is not enough.

[casspurrjoybell-18]

The Vanilla Scented Rogue

*Warning Adult Content*

Chapter 30: Bloodied Fists

B E N E D I C T - S T A P L E T O N

I grinned at him, watching as his face drained of all color

"You thought you would win this fight? Think again."

I watched as he tried to cower away from me, his eyes afraid as he tried to get away from me.

My eyes scanned over the blood and the dirt that was stained to his oversized shirt, my right hand soon falling from the fabric so I could witness more of the dried blood that reeked of my sister.

My eyes darted up to Ambrose's face after I examined every single drop of blood that was stained to his shirt, his expression bringing me joy because it was set to look scared.

My left hand was still gripping onto the fabric of his shirt tightly, pushing him against the wall as my right hand continued to lay limply at my side.

"I smell her blood on you," I stated as I looked at him, my eyes glowing out of rage.

"Yeah, she started bleeding after the second I slammed into her. She just couldn't take a guy's dick the right way, fucking her reminded me of fucking a virgin."

He tried to joke, my blood boiling as he talked of her.

"T-Then I cut her a few times and it rubbed off on me."

My right hand was raised in a matter of seconds after he finished his speech, my fingers bent into a fist as I swung my hand directly into the man's face.

He groaned as I continued hitting, a grin appearing on my face when I heard a crack come from his nose.

My fists were bloodied as I continued slamming my fist into Ambrose's face.

Small cries left his lips when my fist migrated towards his stomach, all of his air leaving his lungs when my fist slammed into his clearly filled stomach.

He gasped as I continued to hit him there, incoherent words leaving his lips as his legs weakened.

He fell when his legs couldn't hold him up anymore, both of us falling to floor when he couldn't stand anymore because I wasn't done with him yet.

Groans and shouts continued to leave his lips as I held onto his shirt, straddling his hips as I hit him again and again.

My vision was red as I hit, not noticing my knuckles were bleeding as I punched him.

My skin was covered in blood, my mind not being able to decipher whose blood was running down from my knuckles because I was too busy trying to make Ambrose bleed like how he made Beatrix bleed.

My knuckles started to ache, the skin covering the bone starting to peel away as I hit the miserable man lying beneath me.

I was panting when a thought popped into my head, my wolf prancing around in my head waiting for me to actually complete the task I thought of.

He was howling in my head, causing a headache to form instantly as he jumped around impatiently.

I let go of Ambrose's shirt, my breathing heavy as I stopped my fist from connecting with his stomach once again.

My hands ran down his body, patting his pockets as I scooted my body further down his.

I was straddling his legs, Ambrose too tired and too filled with pain from his beating to move.

I grinned with I felt his knife in his pocket, sticking my hand into the pocket before wrapping my fingers around the handle of the blade.

My grin was large, my teeth on show as my grin was spread from one ear to the other.

I pulled it out of his pants pocket, holding it up so he could see it through his pain filled eyes.

"Oh God," he groaned when he saw it, trying to move away from me but failing miserably when every movement he made filled him with pain.

I chuckled when I heard his sentence, soon realizing that he thought I was going to cut him like how he did to her.

'No, that was too easy, too... painless.'

'No, I was going to do something much worse and I wasn't going to regret it at all.'

I was going to grin and laugh at the pain he will soon receive because he deserved every ounce of pain I was going to give him.

"I changed my mind. I'm not going to make thick or even long scares cover your body. I'm not going to cut a stripe up your arm or down your thigh. I'm not going to stab you over and over again as you cry out for help. I'm not going to push this knife into you as tears run down your cheeks. I'm going to do something much much worse and I'm going to enjoy watching as you slowly die from my torture."

I smiled, my voice holding not an ounce of sarcasm or uncertainty because I was going to enjoy this.

He let out a sigh of relief when he heard me say I wasn't going to cut him, a smile appearing on his face for a split second before terror filled his eyes.

A gasp left his disgusting mouth when he heard my last sentence, his eyes staring at me like he already knew what I was going to do to him.

I doubt it.

"Can you guess what I'm going to do to you?" I asked with a smile, a chuckle soon leaving my lips when he didn't answer.

"I'm going to cut off the piece of meat that tortured my sister," I grinned, holding up the blade he cut my sister with as he stared at me in absolute horror.

I let go of his shirt as he continued to lay there, unable to move from his position on the hardwood flooring.

My eyes darted down to the button on his jeans, my right hand working on unbuttoning the blood stained jeans as I moved to press the knife against his neck.

He was breathing heavily as I unbuttoned his jeans, my fingers working to pull down the zipper before pushing down his boxers.

His cock was limp as I pulled it out of his boxers, gripping it so tightly that he winced.

The knife was still pressed against his neck, some of his blood dripping from his neck out from under the blade.

I unwrapped my hand around his dick before moving it up his body, wrapping my hand around his neck soon after I had removed the knife.

His blood laid beneath my fingers that were wrapped around the part of his body that connected his useless head to his shoulders, the blood smudging against my fingertips.

I listened to the way his heart started to beat faster, a smile present on my face as I moved the blade to his balls first.

My need to see him bleed was strong as I started to cut through the saggy skin that laid beneath his cock, his cries strong but his screams even stronger.

He was panting when I finally detached the skin from his body, laying the knife on his stomach before squeezing the two balls of saggy skin in my hand, his useless sperm flowing out.

I laughed as I wiped my hand off on his shirt, Ambrose's breathing heavy as I tossed the two balls coated with blood to the side.

He was kicking and screaming, desperately trying to get out from under me but was ultimately too weak to escape as I picked up the knife again.

My hand was wrapped around his neck tightly, cutting off most of his ability to breathe as he squirmed beneath me.

He was staring at me with pleading eyes filled with tears, a smile still set on my face as I gripped the knife in my hand.

I pressed the blade against the base of his dick next, enjoying the way his screams were even louder than before when I started to cut through the flesh.

[wetbloodworm]

doing a merripen run in bg3 so some notes on that. not spoiler-free!!

technically i started a run and lost it to patch/mod fuckery so i had to start over but i'm not too mad about that. i used a masc body and voice for him in the first run before realizing i don't have to do that just because he's a man. body 1 and one of the fem voices fit him better. he doesn't have to look or sound any particular way to unequivocally be a man. this is so freeing and when i remade him i was like YES this is IT that's MY BOY!! and ty larian for just letting me select his gender separately from these factors, unlike some games [makes direct eye contact with cp77]

went with great old one for his pact bc fathomless isn't an option. there's one on nexus but from what i can tell it doesn't utilize any dialogue tags, so great old one is good enough. they've both got tentacles it's fine

i'm gonna do something fun with this, which is decide when beul would be likely to try to take over and then use their lvl 10 character sheets to do a wisdom contest to see who wins. if beul wins, i'm playing it either until it would decide to pull back or at the start of the next long rest. this could have... consequences, considering beul is deeply homicidal. it's most likely to take over if it feels like the body is in danger and merri isn't handling the situation to its satisfaction, or if there’s an opportunity to gain power, or if there's an irresistible opportunity to kill people that merri isn't acting on. also if there's water nearby that it wants to jump into. the two can negotiate sometimes so it won't be EVERY time, but the two also don't get along great and beul can be spiteful. so we'll see how it goes.

merri really won't care about the tiefling/druid situation, like he gets feeling anxious about outsiders considering his upbringing but he also thinks the druids are being dicks. but it's also so not his problem. please just tell me where your healer is my brain is getting so crowded. since he's there he'll relay some info back and forth but he's not interested until zevlor implies someone should get rid of kagha. merri like well hang on now, THIS i can help with, if you can pay. i just have to figure out if merri would do his research first to minimize damage or if he's gonna just go after her immediately. might uh. might wait to level up some first if i'm turning the whole grove against me. because merri was not trained to minimize damage.

during the first run i was really not expecting him to go for laezel, but it turns out he really likes how direct and intense she is! when you agree to hook up she says something like 'i will come to your tent tonight and take you' and merri was just like

during her sex scene she also directs you and if you follow you're referred to as a lapdog and, yeah. yeah. merri's into being bossed around apparently.

i made a joke later on about him worrying about taking credit for something laezel did and wondering if she'd beat him up over it, but also is that actually a deterrent for him

i don't know if he'll do the full romance but we'll see

he does let astarion bite him though he makes him stop quick, and there's a war in his head because beul HATES this while merri is just yelling WE NEED HIM WE NEED HIM THERE'S A WORM IN MY BRAIN WE NEED OUR ALLIES DO NOT STAKE OUR ALLY!!!

merri is interested in power but not as much as beul. for instance, he would be on the fence about letting the hag take mayrina but beul might try to shove forward and agree to the deal. merri has NO interest in becoming the absolute but beul is super down for it. stuff like that. it'll be fun to see who wins out.

i just want wyll and merri to have warlock chats. oh your patron fucking sucks and took advantage of you in a dire situation? bro same. like the magic's great, but oof! the cost!

that's all i got for now except for this: a boy

tattoos are the closest i'm getting lmao. he should be bluer tbh i'll tweak that