#YOU CAN PUT YOUR CREDIT CARD IN YOUR DICK

[cyber333angel]

being shysorority!reader but dating drugdealer!rafe.. you got dared by some of your sisters to ask rafe to buy you these dior heels that you've had been wanting since forever but feeling bad anytime you ask him to buy you something. putting it off and avoiding the dare, rafe asks you what has been bothering you “it’s nothing really, rafey!” but him having perseverance, he gets it out of you “really? some pink heels is what has been bothering you all week? baby you know you can ask me for anything.” you start to feel bad for doubting his kindness but he adds on “I’ll get you the heels and pick three other things you want, but you have return the favor.” relived by him being willing to buy you the shoes you still didnt know what the favor was . “favor?”

..that’s how you end up on your knees, kneeling below rafe with his cock in your mouth, gurgling on his length . moans heard all around the room and rafes hand holding the back of your head guiding you back and forth from the base of his dick where he holds your head there for a moment..choking, and all the way back to the pink tip to let you gasp and breathe but repeat the same action like a routine. “there you fuckin go..shit” you can hear a little bit of a groan whenever he talks you through it “fuck, your mouth feels so good baby..so fucking wet.” being inexperienced with sucking guys off you just let him use your mouth while you sit on the rough carpet, occasionally putting your hands on his thighs whenever he reaches a deep part of your throat. when he gets close to finishing he holds your head at the base of his pelvis and adds a few more thrust “oh f- fuck “ he stutters from the the intense orgasm and releases in your mouth, filling it with his sperm you cough, “you better fucking swallow it all, m’serious.” you swallow the load and look up at him, satisfied with the view of cum trickling down your mouth he pats the top of your head and rubs the mess off your cheek “go grab my credit card sweetheart, I’ll buy your fuckin- clothes cart or whatever it is.” you get up, pat your knees off and trudge away to get his wallet .

[sluttywonwoo]

cheol telling you that you should trade - he holds out his credit card to keep in your wallet in exchange for a polaroid of you to keep in his. he didn't expect the photo to be so spicy, but you can both be generous 💋🤑

you were hesitant but seungcheol insisted. he wanted you to have it just in case you ever needed it. for emergencies! (for treating yourself too but he knew he’d have to work on getting you to do that one).

you obliged, finally, but only after promising to give him something in return.

“what is it?” he asks, trying to peek behind your fingers at your wallet.

“close your eyes!”

“what? baby-”

“close ‘em! and hold out your hand.”

“just one?”

he can hear the mischievous smile in your voice when you giddily say, “yeah, just the one.”

he sighs but does as he’s asked. he owes you this much, after all. and he loves you or whatever.

his face scrunches up in confusion when he feels you place something plasticky in his palm. it feels thin enough to be paper but the texture is wrong. is it… what he thinks it is?

“open!”

it’s a polaroid lying face down in his hand. he had guessed right. this was way better than a credit card and a million times more valuable. he’d always wanted to keep a picture of you in his wallet like everyone used to do. he thought the idea was romantic.

“turn it over!”

he does, eyes almost popping out of his skull when he sees that it’s a mostly naked picture of you. he rushes to cover it before remembering you’re at home, alone, and settling on placing it gingerly on the counter in front of him.

“do you like it?” you ask. you sound nervous but seungcheol has no idea why.

“you’re joking, right?”

“well, you haven’t said anything.”

“all the blood in my head went straight to my dick. there are no thoughts up there, babe.” you snort. “i’m serious. this is so hot, you’re so hot. come here…”

he turns away from the picture to kiss you, using both hands to cup your face so that he can be the one in control. you melt into him easily, letting him lead until you have to pull away to breathe.

“i don’t know how i’m going to keep that in my wallet,” he admits breathlessly.

“just put it behind your license where no one will see it.”

“that’s not what i’m worried about.”

“then what?”

“i’m worried that i’ll get hard every time i pull it out to pay for something, just knowing it’s in there.”

“would that be the end of the world?”

“well, i don’t want people to think i’m getting it up over dry cleaning or lottery tickets or something.”

“if you’re so worried about it, i can always take it back…” you trail off as you reach for the picture but seungcheol snatches it off the counter before you can get a finger on it.

“nope, no take-backs. it’s mine.”

“but you said-”

he clears his throat unsubtly. “i’ll learn to manage.”

you put a hand over your heart in faux-surprise. “you’re so brave.”

[lazycats-stuff]

Hello can you please do more baby or toddler reader x batfamily if you can😭i just love them

Oh sure can. I kind of love them too. I'll do baby reader, since we didn't have those in a while. Also, look at this adorable little penguin. Baby animals are cute.

Summary: First time that (Y/N) came to the manor.

Warnings: mentions of death during birth, but it's not (Y/N), a lot of fluff, angst(?), I don't know at this point.

Bruce was silently sitting at the dining table, looking at the phone, not sure how to feel at this moment. He had a one night stand 9 months ago and the woman he was with was carrying his child. Bruce asked her what she wanted to do, did she want to get rid of the baby or keep it?

Bruce was secretly hoping she would keep the baby, but he couldn't tell her what to do with her body. That would be wrong in his opinion. Thankfully, she choose to keep the baby. Thank God. Bruce was happy and he told his other sons about the incoming baby. None of them were surprised, but worried. A baby in their lifestyle?

They were all worried to say the least. Even Damian. Not about the fact that a biological child of Bruce was coming into the family, but worried about the fact that it's a baby. All of them were hoping for a girl, because who wouldn't want a little sister at their hands? Once they found out it was a boy, they were a tad disappointed, but didn't mind another boy.

The more the merrier was the joke.

The pregnancy was going smoothly... Until the time of labor came. He thought that it would go smoothly. He really did. However, it didn't. (Y/N)'s mom didn't make it, but (Y/N) did. That was the call he just got.

She passed away during birth. The nurse who called assured Bruce that the baby was okay. At the moment, Bruce was trying to collect himself before he broke the news to everyone. He looked up from the phone as his sons came in, all confused as to what has happened.

" What happened Bruce? " Dick asked as he sat down and Bruce rubbed his eyes.

" Anna, the one night stand gave birth today. She didn't make it, " Bruce announced and everyone froze.

Damian was left worried for the baby, Tim's mouth dropped and Jason was left speechless. Dick had to sit down.

" Are you serious? " Tim asked, eyes widening at the news. This was huge.

" Just got the call Tim. She passed away. Right now, I need to get some baby stuff. And that means furniture, clothes, diapers, damn formula too... " Bruce rubbed his eyes again, feeling overwhelmed by everything.

" We'll deal with that, " Damian declared and the other 3 nodded in agreement. " We'll just need your credit card. You need to make sure that the baby is taken care of. And we do need to think of a name. "

" I thought we agreed on (Y/N). And so did Anna, no? " Dick asked, rubbing his chin.

" Yes, we'll name the boy (Y/N). Also, don't go overboard. " Bruce warned and Dick chuckled.

" You shouldn't worry about money, since you are rich, " Dick mumbled as his face turned solemn.

" I know Dick. I trust you all. First and foremost, we need a list of what we need for the room. Create a list of furniture and then just make sure to get enough clothes for now. We'll think about that later. But formula is something that he needs, so make sure to get about a week's worth... Is that too much? " Bruce wondered out loud, sighing quietly.

" We'll get a week's worth, don't worry father. We'll go furniture shopping today, so that it'll be ready when (Y/N) is discharged from the hospital, " Damian said, looking Bruce in the eyes.

" (Y/N) will be okay here. " Tim put his right elbow on the table, then rested his chin in his hand. " We may be chaotic, but we'll take good care of him. He won't lack anything, " Tim said with a firm voice and everyone nodded.

" Oh hell yeah. We'll all step up for this baby. And we'll take care of him. We'll make a list of duties and try to do our best. " Jason crossed his arms as he leaned back into his chair.

" I agree Jason. "

They all looked at each other, clearly determined to make sure that (Y/N) is taken care of.

Bruce went to the hospital right after the conversation, nervous beyond belief to meet his son. He entered the hospital, where he asked the nurse for directions. The nurse gently led him where (Y/N) was and Bruce saw him through the glass, with other newborns. Bruce tried to not cry, tried to not tear up.

But he couldn't stop the tears that came up. He wiped them quickly and the nurse gently patted his shoulder.

" (Y/N) is healthy, mister Wayne. A good weight too. But sleeps most of the time, which is normal. The only thing you need to do right now is sign the paperwork for that adorable baby, " She said, gently smiling at (Y/N), then turned to Bruce.

" And I know that you are a single father and that a baby is different than teens, but you'll get the hang of it. And I know you must feel overwhelmed and not prepared, but no one is prepared for a baby. There's no manual to get ready, " She told him and Bruce chuckled.

" I know. But I've been reading books on how to take care of newborns. What to do and what not to do. But I feel like it's not enough, " Bruce explained and she nodded.

" Do not sell yourself short. You got this. And I think the little guy would love to live with you. Do you want to hold him? "

Bruce nodded. " But I need to sit down first. "

" Of course. " She gently led him to a room where he could sit down and then she left to go get (Y/N). Bruce has never felt so nervous and anxious in his life. He tried to calm down, but his nerves got the better of him. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves down.

He got ready as the nurse entered with (Y/N), who was swaddled and sleeping.

" Alright, are we ready dad? " The nurse asked and Bruce nodded. He knew he was ready.

The nurse gently put (Y/N) into Bruce's arms and Bruce smiled at his baby boy. (Y/N) opened his eyes and Bruce smiled even more.

" Hello (Y/N). It's dad, " Bruce said and (Y/N) seemed to scan him before letting out soft sounds.

The nurse adjusted his hold, warning him about the neck and head. Bruce listened intently, adjusting his hold accordingly.

" You have 4 brothers and you wrapped them around your little finger. They'll do anything for you, " Bruce said gently to his son, who seemingly smacked his little lips together. Bruce chuckled at that.

" I'll make sure you are never lack love. Never, " Bruce muttered, smiling at his baby boy. " Oh they'll love you. "

Bruce turned his head towards the nurse. " When can I take him home? "

The nurse thought for a moment. " Normally, we would discharge him with the mother, but since she passed and he's fine, you could take him today. "

So Bruce did just that. After he talked to all the appropriate people, signed a shit ton of documents in Bruce's words. Afterwards, he made his way to find a baby car seat. He quickly put it together in the parking lot. Being Batman is a perk of it's own. He put it together and went to the hospital to pick his son up and go home with him.

He could only hope that the boys have put together a crib. However, he didn't doubt that they bought it, they are all quick and efficient, but... He's worried. He can only hope that they didn't kill one another while putting together the cribs. He'll be happy if he he finds two of his sons unconscious. And without any broken bones.

Which Bruce knew was unlikely, but one can hope. He gently strapped (Y/N) in and drove home, making sure to be vigilant on the road and to make sure that both him and (Y/N) made it home safely. After a while, he parked the car in the yard and got out, taking (Y/N) with him, making sure he is swaddled and calm.

He opened the door quietly and he could hear voices upstairs, probably where they were putting together the furniture. He slowly walked upstairs, being quiet on purpose to see what was going on.

And was that a sight to see.

Damian and Tim were putting together a changing table and Dick and Jason have put some toys into the crib, making it comfortable for their brother.

Bruce cleared his throat and everyone turned their heads to look at him, before their eyes fell down on a little bundle of joy in (Y/N)'s arms. They all froze and melted a tiny bit.

" Aw, he's so cute, " Dick came closer, watching (Y/N) who was awake at the moment, looking around at the new faces and voices.

Jason peaked over Tim's shoulder. " My, my. He is cute. " Jason said quietly as he gently reached out to touch (Y/N)'s cheek.

" Before any of you touch him, " Bruce said, making Jason pause mid air, " I want you all to wash your hands. So go to the bathroom and wash your hands.

[angel5ofp0rn]

just a thought ! will prob delete 🫡

bodyguard!ghost x f!reader

(the beach episode)

It’s your annual family trip to Bora-Bora. Normally your boyfriend and his family comes along, but for some reason that you don't actually care about, they're not coming.

It's just you, your parents and Ghost the bodyguard.

While at the airport for a layover, you’re at some little airport gift shop with the bodyguard behind you, as your parents wait in the exclusive airport lounge.

Ghost is currently behind you, watching over you as you peruse the store. He's just standing there in silence, keeping a close eye on you.

Every now and then he keeps glancing over at you, his eyes taking every inch of you in as you look around.

You give him a little smirk before turning back to what you were looking at.

You’re excited to get to our destination; your parents don't really do anything as a family, it's mostly a vacation for themselves. That just means Ghost and you will have a lot of free time together...

You grab two little pink and purple string bracelets and pay for them with your dad's credit card. When Ghost and you step out of the gift shop you hand him one. "Here."

"Hm?" He looks down at the bracelet and examines it. "What's this for?" he asks as he looks back up at you.

"They’re friendship bracelets." You shrug, putting yours on. You just think it's funny to have matching friendship bracelets with a big, scary bodyguard.

He gives you a roll of his eyes at this. “Do we really ‘ave the sor’ of relationship where we can call each other ‘friends’?" he asks, stuffing the bracelet into his pocket.

"Fine... They're matching bodyguard-client fuck-buddy bracelets." you shrug as if it makes no difference to you.

"Bloody hell..." He grumbles.

About 5 hours later, Ghost and you are lying on the beach at the resort.

You’re in a little white bikini, your belly button piercing visible even if Ghost is blatantly avoiding looking at it.

The bodyguard currently lying on your oversized beach blanket next to you, with his legs bent and his hands behind his head as he watches the water.

He's in his usual attire of a black t-shirt, jeans and his balaclava.

While he's relaxing and everything, his eyes still keep glancing over at you here and there in the corner of his eye so that you don’t notice.

"I can't believe you're wearing jeans at the beach." you mumble, your eyes closed behind your sunglasses.

"I'm always on duty..." He responds. “Can't exactly wear a speedo f’r my work attire.”

"Your giant Johnson wouldn't even fit in a speedo."

The second you say that, his cheeks burn at the mention of his big dick.

"I'm gonna get you some trunks from the gift shop." You announce as you stand up. "Watch my stuff."

You’re already walking away before he can protest.

You return with a pair of black trunks and two cold beers.

"Here ya go." You grin as you hand him one of the bottles and the shorts.

Ghost shakes his head, but does accept the drink.

"Get those trunks on." You urge him after taking a small sip of your own beer. "And lose the mask, too."

"Christ,” He groans. “Why?”

"So you can finally get some color." You tease him with a little grin.

"I'm fine with th’ way I look..." he mumbles.

"C'mon." You whine a little, your lips pouting. "You don't have to be on duty right now. You can just be on vacation... With me."

He takes another small sip of his beer before finishing up his thoughts. He can't seem to find the words to say in protest. Eventually he sighs. "Fine..."

You smile triumphantly as Ghost stands up and walks towards one of the little changing booths along the beach. He comes back a while later with his jacked upper body visible now that he's wearing the trunks.

"There... happy?" he says with a roll of his eyes as he returns to his spot next to you.

He sits down beside you again and sips on his beer again.

You sit up and straddle his lap, facing him. "I wanna see you." You slowly lift up his balaclava, revealing his whole face, scars and all, when you toss it towards your beach bag.

His cheeks grow quite a bit red as he looks over towards you, and as you remove his balaclava, he seems a bit breathless as you keep his full face exposed like this.

You cup his face and plant a kiss on his now-exposed cheek, unfazed by his features since you’ve been privileged enough to see them from time to time already.

He lets out another small groan as you plant a kiss on his face, and he wraps his hands around your waist as he dodges your attempt for a kiss on the lips.

He keeps a hold of your waist as you sit on his lap, though. His eyes just staring up at you, watching you carefully.

"You know better." He finally speaks, his voice dark and husky.

"Still worth a shot." You grin cheekily.

He’s meant to protect you, not be intimate with you. You just make it hard to resist.

But right now, to anyone else on the beach, you’re just a regular couple enjoying vacation together.

After a bit you get off of his lap and lay out on the beach blanket so you can get a tan.

He seems to be observing you as you apply tanning oil and lay out again, and he doesn't seem to realize that you can see him just looking out at your body as you relax.

"I'm so glad that Corey's family decided not to come this year." You yawn a bit.

His gaze just continues to wander over your body, from your thighs to your hips to your bellybutton piercing and finally your nipple piercings that are visible beneath your triangle-shaped bikini top.

"I think he's cheating on me." You mention casually. Boredly. "Or planning on dumping me."

His gaze stops moving over you once you mention that, and he seems confused by you mentioning that.

"Huh?" he murmurrs, finally speaking back up. “Wha’ makes you say tha’?”

"Well, he's not here." You state like that was an obvious factor.

"..." he sighs. "And you immediately jus’ assume he's cheating or is going to dump you because of this?"

"Well, yeah." You shrug. “Plus we didn’t have sex last time we were together.”

"Wha’ if he jus’ wasn't in the mood?" Ghost snorts.

"He's a twenty five year old guy. He's always in the mood."

"... Fair point." He mumbles as a response.

"Plus, he always flirts with other girls..." You sit up and take a sip of your beer. "Not like I care."

"You don’ care that your boyfriend flirts with other girls?" He sounds somewhat curious about your reasoning when he asks this.

"Well, I'm fucking my bodyguard."

He lets out a heavy sigh when you say this, as he puts the beer up to his mouth to sip on it. He's... not sure how he expected you to answer, but this answer definitely wasn't it.

"You’ve gotta stop blurtin’ it out like that." he finally responds after taking a small sip of his beer again.

You just shrug with a small smirk.

"Such a fuckin’ brat.” He takes another sip of his bottle of beer, but he does keep a hand on your thigh during this.

"You're gonna give me a weird tan line." You frown, swatting his hand away.

"I can't help it..." he mumbles back, before quickly grabbing your hand before your swatted hand can go too far away.

He lets go of your hand and puts his own hand back on your plushy thigh, squeezing it a bit.

You sit up and swat some sand at him.

Ghost simply sighs as some of the sand hits him, and he lets go of your thigh for a moment in order to cover his eyes with his hand.

"Stop that." He warns you as some of the sand falls down from his fingers.

"Or what?" You tilt your head to the side in mock-oblivion.

You squeal when he swats sand back at you. "Hey! I’m so going to get you back-“

"Or, I could always just do this." He says, before putting his hands back around your waist once more, and using his other hand to grab your thigh again as he pulls you back so that you're sitting back in his lap. “There... much better."

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his jawline.

Ghost lets out a soft groan as he keeps you in his arms, his hands feeling up your thick thighs as if he's just re-affirming the fact that he has you on his lap now.

His hands slowly start moving up your thighs again, getting closer to your ass, just barely giving you a squeeze.

"Y’r so fuckin’ gorgeous..." he finally mumbles under his breath. “Your boyfriend doesn’t deserve you anyway…”

"Hmm... the nose job helped." You murmur, rubbing your hands over the front of his chest and his shoulders.

He lets out a soft groan as you run your hands over his chest, but he still just lets you do it. "Nose job?"

"Mhmm." You nod.

"Price let you get a nose job?" he asks, still sounding surprised as he stares at you.

“Daddy paid for my nose job.” You confirm with a nod.

Ghost snorts; it makes sense. Your father, John Price, has always spoilt you and would bend over backwards to make you happy.

He then raises one of his eyebrows as he speaks again. "Did it hurt getting it done?"

"Soo much." You pout your lips. "Kiss it better."

He smirks before he leans in, giving the tip of your nose gentle little kisses. “Better?"

"Mm... I might need a few more."

Surprisingly to you, Ghost actually chuckles a little bit. He leans in once more. "Well... I can't deny a pretty girl's request..." he says with another smirk, before he proceeds to go right back to kissing on your nose, then your cheek, then your neck.

It's so different, being with Ghost instead of Corey...

Your boyfriend comes off as a nice, well-mannered, well off guy, that your dad would be proud to call his future son-in-law… But in reality he's just a spoiled, rich fuck boy.

Ghost seems like this big, scary, rugged tough guy... and he is, but when it's just him and you…

Everything feels right, despite how wrong it really is.

[incorrectbatfam]

Bruce broke his foot (again) and now someone needs to fill in as Batman. Who's donning the cowl and who's making calls to get off the planet so they don't have to do it?

Bruce: Casting calls are now live.

Duke, nervously getting onstage: Hi.

*microphone squeaks*

Duke: M-my name is Duke Thomas and I'm auditioning for the role of Batman.

Bruce: Show me what you got.

Duke: *clears his throat*

Duke, reading from a script: "Stop right there, Joker! Your days of evildoing have come to a—"

Duke: Actually, I have some notes. From a writer's standpoint, this reads less like the Dark Knight and more like a 60s sitcom.

Bruce: Next!

Selina: What better person to be Batman than the woman who has him wrapped around her finger?

Bruce: You know that's not how it works.

Selina: I've been practicing my quick change so I can be both of us in one fight. Come on, Bat. Can't bend the rules for the love of your life?

Bruce: I love you, but next!

Tim: I'm auditioning for the non-dictator Batman.

Bruce: Not taking any chances. Next!

Cassandra: *flips onstage in a series of elaborate acrobatics*

Cassandra: *beats the training dummy*

Bruce: Impressive. Now, I'll give you a scenario and you act it out as if you're Batman, okay?

Cassandra: *nods*

Bruce: A lost child walks up to you. What's the first thing you say?

Cassandra: You will make an excellent Robin.

Bruce: Yes—I mean, no. No. Next person, please.

Dick: I don't get why I have to audition. I mean, I was Batman.

Bruce: Hm, you're right. Let's give someone else a turn. Next!

Jason, in an improvised costume: I am the darkness. I am the night. I am...

Jason: *whips out guns*

*BANG BANG BANG*

Bruce: Next!

Stephanie: Can I try out?

Bruce: Sure, why not. Let's say you're negotiating a hostage situation. What do you say?

Stephanie: I'll give you Bruce Wayne's credit card if you let these people go.

Bruce: Next!

Barbara: I have programmed an advanced speaker system that will project your grunt from every gargoyle in the city.

Bruce: Grunting doesn't send people to Arkham. Next!

Damian: *walks in*

Bruce: No.

Bruce: Last one left is Kate.

Kate: Don't look at me, I'm just trying to find my keys.

Bruce, groaning: Patrol's in an hour. How am I gonna find a replacement?

Alfred: Master Bruce, perhaps I can substitute for you on the field.

Bruce: Thanks for offering, but I can't let you put yourself in danger like that.

Alfred: Then might I suggest, as Ms. Kyle said, bending one of your rules?

Bruce: Hm...

[later]

Joker: With a push of a button, I'm going to send this entire street sky high!

Clark dressed as Batman: Not if I can help it.

Joker: What is this, some sort of flying device?

Clark: Some changes were made.

Joker: Like what?

Diana, dressed as Batman: Like this.

Diana: *lassoes the Joker*

Joker: There's two of you?!?

Ollie, dressed as Batman, perched on a gargoyle: A little more than that.

Dinah, dressed as Batman: And we have some new tricks up our sleeve. Like this.

Dinah: *screams*

Arthur, dressed as Batman, bursting from the sewer: And this.

Arthur: *catches Joker in a whirlpool*

Hal, dressed as Batman, pointing his ring: And this.

Hal: *traps Joker in a ball*

J'onn, dressed as Batman: May I?

Zatanna, dressed as Batman: I want in too.

Hal: Okay, all of us on the count of three.

Everyone: *bounces Joker back to Arkham*

Barry, dressed as Batman: *runs in late*

Barry: Aw man, I missed it!

[l0vem41l]

something's wrong with the morning.

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited 2 the max, potentially ooc but WHO GAF (me. igaf), he misreads tone over text and it's totally not me projecting, bros just a little anxious and its totally not me projecting, richard "acts of service" grayson in the real, pretty heavily romantic implied but it can be interpreted as platonic becuz we fw that here!!!!! 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. richard "dick" grayson/nightwing

author's note: yes i am uh. doing More dc stuff. guys im really sorry but its literally leeching off my brain like a parasite i fear. enjoy!!!!!!! ♪(´▽｀) <3 the lyric below is what i based this off of but as usual, GENDER NEUTRAL READER!!!

"and how something's wrong with the morning / when he doesn't phone to say he loves me"

dick has been staring at the text since the minute he received it.

“gm.”

you sent two letters. and a period at the end.

immediately, there's a weird feeling he gets— a pit forming in the depths of his stomach as he reads it over and over again, as if he expects it to magically change in front of his eyes.

you usually send something… more in the morning. you greet him happily and use a silly nickname, he greets you and uses a silly nickname back. it's sort of tradition for the two of you, mainly built on the fact that him being a vigilante leaves very little time for the two of you.

so what the hell happened to that tradition? where’s his “good morning pookie!” or “hope you slept well, sunshine :]” that he's grown so accustomed to?

of course, he has to go on with his day like usual. at least, he's trying his best. to his credit, he does pretty well. after all, dick grayson is a performer at heart! even if it secretly feels like a part of his world just collapsed in on itself, he does not sulk about it.

but to the observant, there's obviously been a shift.

the slightly irritable mood he’s been in? definitely normal. the fact that he’s been swiping away every notification with disinterest if it’s not you? totally nothing.

more astute criminals in blüdhaven are a little off put by the fact that nightwing is still at full quip capacity while hitting just a little harder and being just a teeny bit more bitchy.

there nervous speculation going around that next week he'll be in the discowing fit

nightwing notices that his mask is slipping a bit. but does he care? well... not really. what's more important to him is what's going on inside his head. and he's been thinking— hardcore reflecting on every single recent previous interaction with you, looking back to everything that must’ve made things go wrong.

maybe he should’ve let you win that one argument last monday, even though he’d been pretty certain he was right because you really aren't supposed to stack cards in uno that way.

or maybe “anything’s fine” as a response to you asking what he wanted for dinner was the wrong move— he knew you hated when he didn’t help your indecisiveness.

was it the movie he picked for movie night on your hangout? fuck, that might've been it, you totally hate the main actor. how could he have forgotten?

either way, he’s dead set on the fact he did something to piss you off and now you won’t even greet him good morning.

later in the afternoon, you find a cute little basket on your doorstep containing your favorite flowers, your favorite snacks… and an apology note??

“dick,” you message, “what’s going on?”

he doesn’t reply back. instead, he calls you.

before you can even greet him, his voice chimes in with a whole spiel you didn't expect to be hit with.

“i messed up. i know i did and i should've done better. and i’m so sorry, i wanna make this work and i just— from the bottom of my heart— i really, truly apologize—”

you blink several times at your phone before interrupting. “oookay, woah, woah, woah. let's slow down. the fuck are you apologizing for?”

“...your message this morning.” he mumbles out, barely audible. you can hear the pout in his voice somehow.

“what? the one i typed up while rushing to work?” it’s hard to stifle your laughter. “dude, i just woke up a little late. i promise i still love you.”

he doesn't know whether to feel more relieved that you're not actually upset with him or embarrassed about the drastic, immediate measures he took to make things right. things being absolutely nothing, because obviously you weren't gonna be petty over uno rules, nondecisions, or movies.

"you should come over. we can share the snacks if you get here in time." click.

he'll be at your door the minute patrol is done. not for the snacks though it is a nice bonus but to see you. lord knows you need the time together.

— reblogs always appreciated!

[doctorbitchcrxft]

What Is and What Never Should Be | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ? ;) )

Warnings: Dean's an alcoholic dick, coping with trauma from a sexual assault, mentions of parental abuse, mentions of suicide but like not really cause it’s in a dream, canon violence, canon gore (take care of yourselves, as always. Love you guys.)

Word Count: 5281

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About two weeks had passed since you’d left Deacon’s prison. You were convinced it was the hardest two weeks of your life. You couldn’t quite decide if you wanted Dean hugging you all the time, or if you never wanted anyone to touch you again. It felt like every time you looked in the mirror, you were in that disheveled prison guard outfit again, tears streaming down your face with fresh scrapes trailing down your arm. You felt like you were never going to leave the prison’s parking lot.

It definitely didn’t help that you were also having to deal with being fugitives simultaneously. Sam and Dean were waiting for you back at the motel. You put the two of them on a strict lockdown given their mugshots would be everywhere, and the feds hadn’t seemed to find a clear enough image of you to post yours. You drove the Impala around the area of your newest hunt searching for a potential location the victims could have been brought to while the boys researched back in their motel room. 

You knew Dean could tell you were pulling away from him, and you knew it was hurting him. You didn’t want to, but you couldn’t let him in right now. You didn’t want to burden him with your problems given Sam was supposed to be the main concern right now and evading federal agents was a huge priority. You needed to deal with your issues in silence in order to keep yourself from completely breaking down in front of the boys and pulling focus away from what you believed were more pressing issues.

Your phone rang and broke you out of your thoughts. It was Sam’s number. “Hello?” you said into the phone.

“Hey. Got you on speaker,” he replied. “There’s a cop car outside.”

“You think it’s for us?” you questioned.

“I don't know.”

“I don't see how,” Dean jumped in, his voice a little distant. “I mean we ditched the plates, the credit cards.”

Sam breathed out suddenly. “They're leaving. False alarm.”

“Well, see. Nothing to worry about,” Dean jested.

“Yeah, being fugitives? Friggin’ dance party,” Sam deadpanned.

“Hey, man, chicks dig the danger vibe,” Dean commented.

You scoffed. “Got anything yet?” you asked the boys.

“Just one thing. I'm pretty sure of it now. We're hunting a Djinn,” Sam answered.

“Really? How do you know?” you questioned.

“A freaking genie?” Dean asked simultaneously. “What? You think these suckers can really grant wishes?”

“I don’t know,” Sam said. “I guess they're powerful enough. But not exactly like Barbara Eden in harem pants. I mean, Djinn have been feeding off people for centuries. They're all over the Quran.”

“And where do these guys shack up?” you asked. 

“Ruins usually. Uh, bigger the better; more places to hide,” Sam replied.

Something struck you. “Y’know, I think I saw a place a couple miles back. I'm gonna go check it out.”

“Hell no, (Y/N),” Dean stated, voice suddenly much closer to the phone. “You’re not goin’ without us.”

“Dean, I’ll be fine. I’m sure it’s nothing. I just wanna take a look around,” you argued. 

“I’ll call you guys when I’m headed back.” Despite the voices of the Winchesters protesting, you hung up the phone and turned the Impala around. 

Minutes later, you came upon a decaying factory. Doors squeaked on their hinges as you pushed through them and decades-old papers crunched beneath your feet like fallen leaves. Everything seemed very empty and very abandoned, but you weren’t quite convinced. You headed deeper into the factory past several offices with smashed windows on their doors and blinds hanging crookedly. 

Suddenly, something grabbed you and pinned you to the wall behind you. You dropped the flashlight you were holding as the Djinn pinned your hand above your head. You got a clear look at the monster in front of you; a bald man with curling blue tattoos detailing his face and body. You struggled against him, trying to get your knife through his chest with your free hand, but he pinned that one as well. The eyes before you began to glow an electric blue, and your entire body went numb.

*** The next time you woke up, you were alone in a comfortable bed. You jerked up, turned on the lamp next to you, and took in the room around you. There were scrubs tossed on the back of a rocking chair in the corner of the room and a picture of you and Dean hung on the far wall. 

‘What the fu—’ you thought. 

Suddenly, a shirtless Dean entered the room wearing sweatpants hanging low on his hips. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Dean!” you exclaimed. “What the fuck is goin’ on?”

He eyed you strangely and snorted. “Wha— What do you mean?”

“Where are we?” you asked.

Dean paused, still standing in the doorway and taken aback. “Uh, our house?”

“What?” you questioned.

“Babe, are you feeling okay?” he questioned, sitting on the bed next to you. “I knew your shift at the hospital was bad, but—”

“Wait, what? I don’t work in a hospital, I was hunting a Djinn—” 

Dean cut you off. “You were probably just having a bad dream, sweetheart. Let’s go back to bed, okay?”

You weren’t quite sure what Dean was talking about or if this was even Dean. Maybe  he’d been possessed, maybe you’d been— ‘Wait,’ you thought. ‘The Djinn. Maybe he did this to me.’

Dean climbed into bed next to you, and you noticed he wasn’t wearing the amulet he quite literally never took off. You were apparently eyeing him strangely, because he chuckled, “What?”

“Nothing,” you shook your head, “Just, uh— where’s your necklace?”

Dean laughed, almost sounding relieved. “Oh, I took it off to shower.” He put a silver chain with dog tags hanging from it around his neck. He opened his arm for you to settle into. 

Hesitantly, you laid down on Dean’s chest. You didn’t get much sleep the remainder of that night, though; incredibly uneasy about what was going on around you. 

Around three in the morning, you slipped out of Dean’s arms and began to explore the house around you. You peeked through the bedroom window to see a neighborhood outside that screamed Middle America. You crept down the hallway to the living room and kitchen area. 

Along the walls of the den, there were photos hanging of what looked like you as a teenager and a child, but you couldn’t be sure. You didn’t think photos of you existed of that time in your life. And if they did exist, they definitely were not of you at your third birthday with a pink frilly party hat stuffing cake in your face or of you in a cap and gown graduating high school and college. The next thing that caught your eye was a picture of you hugging Steven tightly. Your hand flew to your mouth at the sight. However, it wasn’t your Steven. This one was older and a lot happier than the Steven you once knew. 

Then, there were pictures of you and your mother. Your father was nowhere to be seen, much to your surprise. You nearly wept at the sight of your mom. Then, there were pictures of a young Sam and Dean. One was Dean hugging his mother. He looked much older than four which was the age you knew his mother died at. 

“Holy shit,” you breathed out. 

You took out your phone and checked the time. You considered for a moment, but decided to call Sam figuring he would likely be up soon anyway. 

“Sam?” you asked when the call was answered. 

“(Y/N)?” His voice sounded raspy and tired. 

“Hey, yeah, what the hell’s goin’ on, man?” you demanded.

“(Y/N), what are you—”

“Oh, god, not you, too.” You hung up the phone and ran a hand through your hair. No one but you seemed to understand that this wasn’t right. You noticed something laying on the coffee table at your feet. An envelope addressed to you with Lawrence, Kansas written on one of the address lines. 

“Lawrence? Why the fuck am I in Lawrence?” you breathed out. 

You noticed a computer sitting a distance away and immediately hurried to it. You typed in your password; no luck. You tried Sam’s password for his and Dean’s shared laptop; no luck either. Frustrated, you sat back in the desk chair. You weren’t sure where the idea came from, but you suddenly had the thought to type in Steven’s name and birthday. Somehow, it worked. You remembered how that was your original idea for a computer password when you first bought yourself a laptop in your real life, but the reminder of Steven was too painful to do so. 

You then set to work researching the Djinn. You learned that they’re not so much genies as they are wielders of godlike power. They could alter reality to their whims however they want in the past, present, and future. 

Then, the thought hit you. ‘What if this is just my life now? What if I never see my Dean again? Am I even a hunter wherever this is?’ Your breath hitched as you realized something else. ‘Was I ever raped? Are my parents alive? Where’s Stevie?’

You typed “whitepages” into the search bar and put in your father’s full name; no results. You tried your mother’s and actually got a hit. She lived in Lawrence, too. 

‘What the fuck?’

You then tried Steven’s. Surprisingly, his name generated results, too. He also lived in Lawrence. 

You hurriedly wrote their addresses down on a sticky note beside you on the desk. When you returned to your room, it was around five in the morning. Creeping around the room, you discovered the clothes in your closet were nothing like you wore in the real world: flowing skirts, cardigans, and lots of different colored scrubs. You almost smiled at the sight of the clothes hanging in your closet. 

‘In another life, I definitely would’ve worn all this,’ you thought. You’d always wanted Carrie Bradshaw’s closet; Sex and the City was one of your guilty pleasure shows in the real world.

Your outfit of choice consisted of a pair of low-rise jeans, a halter top with a plunging neckline, and… ‘Oh.’ The only shoes this version of you had in her closet were heels. Admittedly, you’d never been great at wearing them, but always wanted to try. And so, you did. 

Dean still slept peacefully, and you carefully clacked your heels back down the hallway. You headed outside to find the Impala in the driveway, and for that, you were grateful. 

“Hey, sweet girl,” you grinned. You remembered seeing car keys on a hook next to the door of the house and quickly grabbed them. You popped open the trunk of the Impala secretly hoping to find something useful in it. However, old playboy magazines and paper cups were all you found.

‘Ew, Dean, clean out your car.’

You moved around to the driver’s side of the car. Before you could sit down in it, though, something caught your eye. A girl with a gaunt face and billowing white clothing was standing across the street on one of the neighbor’s lawns. A car blew past, and she was suddenly gone. 

***

You rolled to a stop in front of the first address you had written down: your mother’s. You tried to keep your composure as you walked up to her front door. Hesitantly, you rapped your knuckles against it. 

The door opened to reveal your beautiful mother who you’d missed so much. She looked a little older than she did the last time you saw her, and it was all you could do to keep yourself from throwing your arms around her.

“Mom?” you breathed out.

“What is it, hon?” she asked. “C’mon, come inside.”

The sound of her voice made tears spring to your eyes. You followed her into the living room where pictures of you and Steven lined the walls between crucifixes.

“Hey, Mom?” you started. “What song did you sing to me before you used to put me to bed?”

She looked confused, but humored you anyway. “The, uh, ‘The Long to Be’ song by the Carpenters.”

You smiled, partially in relief that this seemed to really be her and not just a figment of your imagination and partially at the fact that she knew. You rushed to her and hugged her tightly. Your mother seemed taken aback once more, but didn’t say anything to let on that she was.

“You okay? Everything alright with Dean?” your mother asked you. 

“Oh, yeah, everything’s— everything’s great. Just, uh, it was a rough day at the hospital, ‘s all,” you said.

“How’s the garage?” 

You tilted your head. “The garage?”

She seemed confused, too. “Dean’s? How’s work going for him?”

“Oh, oh. The garage, of course,” you laughed awkwardly. ‘Smooth, (Y/N),’ you mentally berated yourself. “Yeah, it’s fine, it’s great.”

“Really? Last time we talked, he was too busy drinking to focus on fixing a car,” she said.

You felt stunned. The Dean you knew was bordering on becoming an alcoholic, sure, but he wouldn’t let that get in the way of his job.

“Baby, I’m glad to see you, but why are you here at six in the morning?” your mom questioned.

“I just— I just couldn’t sleep. Needed to see my mom,” you replied. It was a half-truthful response.

Your mother offered a small, thoughtful smile. “Oh,” she suddenly said. “What time are you and Dean going to dinner tonight?”

You tilted your head. “Uh—”

“For Mary’s birthday?” she prompted. 

“Oh, oh,” you said. “Right.”

“Did he not tell you?” she asked. “(Y/N), I’ve been telling you that boy isn’t right for you for a while now.”

“Mom—” you protested.

“No, (Y/N). You’re a fantastic nurse. You’re dating a drunkard mechanic. Why couldn’t you have dated Sam?”

“Ew, mom, no. Sam’s my best friend,” you said.

She seemed stunned. “What? That’s new. Last we talked, you hadn’t heard from Sam in months. Neither had Dean.”

It was your turn for your eyes to widen. “Right, right, yeah. Sorry. I’m just—”

“Have you been drinking? Dean’s rubbing off on you, (Y/N). You should have listened to me when I warned you about him,” your mother sighed. 

“Jesus, Mom—”

“Don’t take his name in vain!” she scolded.

You scoffed. “I forgot that you’re like this.” You crossed your arms and turned away from her. 

“Like what?” your mother pressed, voice rising. 

“So incredibly judgmental of me. I’ve never been good enough for you or Dad, Mom!”

“How dare you bring up your father!” your mother cut you off.

“What?!”

“Wow, you really are drunk, (Y/N),” she replied. “He’s been dead almost your whole life. You barely even knew him. How could you say that about him?”

You felt like you’d been punched in the chest. ‘So that means he never hit us.’ “Mom, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“Just leave, (Y/N). Please. I’ll call you tomorrow,” she sighed.

You turned and slammed the door behind you. You sat in the Impala with your head on the steering wheel just trying to process everything that was going on. Even in this fantasy land or new reality or wherever this place was, your mother was harshly critical of you. Granted, you’d rather her harshly criticize you and be alive than dead, but this version of your mother perfectly mirrored the true version of her. It truly freaked you out. 

‘Well, scratch that off the list, I guess,’ you thought.

***

You hesitantly knocked on the door of your little brother’s home. 

“(Y/N)?” he asked upon opening the door.

Tears sprang to your eyes. “Steve?” you breathed out.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong?” he asked.

You smiled as a tear slipped down your cheek. “Uh, just a hard day at work ‘s all,” you replied. You threw yourself into his arms; a hug he responded to immediately. 

“Hey, seriously, what happened?” he asked when you pulled away. “Was it Dean again? The hospital never gets to you like that.”

“Wait, what? No,” you shook your head. “Why does everybody keep saying he treats me poorly?”

Steven looked at you as if it was obvious. “Uh, ‘cause he does. He’s an alcoholic playboy asshole that you’re way too good for.”

“What?!” you questioned. “No, he isn’t.”

He sighed. “Listen, (Y/N), I don’t wanna keep having this fight with you.”

“Yeah, me neither,” you replied. You stopped for a moment. “Stevie, I’m really happy to see you.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I’m glad to see you, too.”

A small voice piped up from behind your brother. “Daddy?”

Steven stepped back to reveal a staggering toddler in pigtails. He picked her up and grinned down at her. “What’s up, kiddo?”

‘He’s a dad?’ Your shock only increased, and you smiled at the sight of them interacting. Another tear slipped down your cheek. 

“Why’s Minnie crying?” the toddler asked her father.

You grinned. “She calls me ‘Minnie’?” 

Steven nodded. “Yeah, just like I used to.”

You laughed. “Can I hold her?”

“Duh,” he replied, handing his daughter to you.

“Hi, sweet girl,” you grinned down at her. She tugged on the ends of your hair, babbling happily and singing to herself.

“Look, Minnie, I braid.” The toddler held up a now twisted, knotted mess of your hair. 

You smiled at her. “Awesome job, angel.” 

You sat on the floor playing with your niece and Steven for hours until your phone rang.

“Hey, (Y/N), where ya been?” Dean’s voice came from the other line.

“Steven’s,” you replied. “Why, what’s up?”

“We gotta be at my mom’s in an hour. Meet me there?” he asked.

*** You met Dean on the steps of his mother’s house. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he grinned, pecking your lips. 

Suddenly, a voice came from behind you. “Seriously, Dean?”

“Sam!” you exclaimed, turning around to give him an enthusiastic hug. He hesitated to return it, and the woman next to him cleared her throat. You released him to come face to face with Jessica, a woman you’d only seen in pictures. 

“Hey, Jess,” you said, the name feeling strange on your tongue. You hugged her as well, and she awkwardly laughed.

“Hi, (Y/N),” she said. 

You then noticed the awkward distance between the two brothers and the bags Sam was lugging out of the trunk of the taxi in front of you. 

“Where'd you guys come from?” you asked.

“We just flew in from... Califor—”

“California! Stanford and everything. Right, sorry,” you laughed. “I’m really not with it today.”

Sam nodded somewhat disapprovingly. “I can see that.” He motioned to the beer in Dean’s hand. “I see you started off Mom's birthday with a bang, as usual.”

“Sam—” Dean warned.

Your heart was breaking at the awkward tension between two brothers who were otherwise incredibly close friends. You couldn’t believe there was a universe where Sam and Dean weren’t, well, Sam and Dean.

***

The restaurant you sat in next to Dean was stuffy. Sam and Jessica were dressed equally as stuffy. Nothing felt right at this moment. You were suddenly reminded of the reason why you were here, and that you needed to figure out how to help yourself get out of here. 

“Wow, that... looks awesome,” Dean said, referring to the plate of steak and asparagus that had been placed in front of him.

Sam raised his glass. “All right. To Mom. Happy birthday.”

“Happy birthday,” you, Dean, and Jessica said in unison.

“Thank you,” Mary replied, clinking her glass against yours.

You watched Sam and Jessica peck each other on the lips and you smiled fondly. 

“I was really worried about you last night,” Dean told you.

“Oh, I'm… I'm good. I'm really good,” you nodded.

“For some reason, I don’t believe you,” he smirked. “I know a few ways I can make that a reality, though.”

You recoiled at that comment, slightly dumbfounded by how correct Steven had been about Dean’s behavior in this realm.

“Jess and I actually have another surprise for Mom's birthday. Ah,” Sam turned to Jessica, “you wanna tell 'em?”

“They're your family,” she laughed.

“What? Tell me what?” Mary asked excitedly.

Sam held up Jessica’s left hand to reveal an engagement ring. You laughed happily in surprise. “Holy shit! That’s amazing!” You got up and hugged Sam happily before hugging Jessica. “Congratulations!” you told them.

“I just wish your dad was here,” Mary told Sam.

You suddenly realized John was missing. You searched Sam’s face, whose disappointment mirrored his mother’s.

Dean and Sam awkwardly shook hands which hurt your heart a little to see. Just behind them, though, you noticed the girl from earlier. Her white, flowing clothing was much filthier and torn this time. You brushed past Sam and headed toward the girl, pushing past people mingling in between you and the haunting figure. As you pushed past the final woman, the girl was gone.

Confused, you turned back around to see the equally weirded-out faces of the Winchester family. 

Sheepishly, you grinned and walked back over to them.

*** “You got somethin’ we need to talk about?” Dean asked you. He’d been completely silent since dinner up until this moment. He downed a beer in the kitchen before turning to you. 

“What?” you asked.

“Back there with Sam. What’s going on with you two?” Dean asked. “In fact, you’ve been acting really weird the past two days. There somethin’ you wanna tell me?”

You scoffed. “Dean, I’m not fucking your brother. Look, I’m not feeling like myself right now. ‘S all.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Dean responded mockingly.

“Dude, why are you being such a dick?” you questioned.

“Oh, so we just call each other ‘dude’ now?” he argued.

“Listen, I’m really not enjoying this attitude, okay?” you responded.

Dean cut you off. “I’m not enjoying yours, either. What happened to the sweet little nurse I married?”

“Jesus, we’re married?” you questioned before you could help yourself. 

“(Y/N), what the hell?” Dean replied, his confusion seeming to grow by the minute. 

“I think I’m just… overly tired. I’m gonna… sleep out here tonight,” you said.

Dean scoffed. “Since when are you the childish one?”

“I’m not being childish, Dean, I just wanna sleep on the couch tonight, okay?” you hissed.

“Fine.” He left the room and returned to the bedroom the two of you apparently shared. You heard the door slam a moment later, and you flinched. You settled to the couch and pulled a blanket over yourself. You clicked on the television and began clicking through the channels. Something on the news caught your attention.

“And today marks the anniversary of the crash of United Britannia Flight 424,” the reporter began.

“What the—” you breathed out. 

“Indianapolis residents held a candlelight vigil in memory of the hundred and eight people who lost their lives—”

Your throat clenched. “No, no. We stopped that crash.”

Panicked, you moved to your computer. Every hunt you checked had apparently never happened. “Nine Children Comatose” was the headline describing a “mystery illness” that had swept Dane County Hospital. Then, the brutal homicides from the clown killer after John died. And Taylor from the closing-down-Hoodoo-hotel case had drowned in the hotel pool. As you looked out the front window, you saw the same woman you’d seen twice already flash by the window. You turned around to see several female corpses hanging around you, and you nearly screamed out in surprise. Then, that same woman again flickering in front of you.

This twisted world was completely shocking even you, an experienced hunter. Your mind raced, but you knew what you had to do. A picture of your dad holding you as a baby on the wall of your house caught your attention.

“I’m sorry you’re not here, Dad,” you murmured. “And I know what I need to do. I’m gonna hunt this son of a bitch, but… I don’t know. Stevie’s happy. Mom’s… Mom. And I just— Why do we always have to be the ones to sacrifice something? A part of me is happy to do it, and this is proof that I could never have this. But it’s just… I don’t know. I know you’re tellin’ me to stop whinin’ and just get it done. I’ll make you proud. I promise.”

And with that, you grabbed a silver knife from your china cabinet and headed out to the Impala. You managed to steal lamb’s blood from a butcher’s shop and headed to the factory you’d last seen the Djinn at. 

***

Hours later, you arrived at the factory in Illinois. Running on pure adrenaline, you headed inside. You moved your flashlight around to illuminate different parts of the factory, and you ignored your phone as it began to ring in your back pocket. The ringing silenced, and then rang again. Without thinking, you lifted your phone over your head and slammed it into the ground, shattering and silencing it completely.

Then, you came across a big store room with the same bodies you’d seen hanging in your living room strung up around it. Next, you noticed the woman you’d been seeing all along. She seemed close to death; her cheeks sallow, face pale, and body hanging limply. 

“It’s her,” you breathed out.

Suddenly, you saw the Djinn coming around the corner. You ducked into the shadows as the woman began to cry. “Where's my dad? I won't tell—” she suddenly cut herself off. “Don't. Where's my dad?”

“Sleep,” you heard a soothing male voice say. “Sleep.”

You then saw the woman’s body completely relax, and the Djinn began to drink from the blood bag next to where she was hanging. 

‘So that’s what it does,’ you realized. ‘It doesn’t grant you a wish, it just makes you think it has.’ As the Djinn disappeared, you continued to think. ‘What if I'm like her? What if I'm tied up in here some place? What if all this is in my head?’ You walked up to the woman. “I mean it could, you know, maybe it gives us some kind of supernatural acid, and then just feeds on us slow.’ You nearly scoffed audibly. ‘So, she’s not a spirit, she’s a flash of reality. I’m catatonic. Fucking great.’

Then, you remembered an old wives’ tale. “Listen to me, motherfucker!” you called into the darkness. “I’m gonna slit my fucking throat! I die in a dream, I wake up, right! Come and get me, I dare you!”

“Wait!” Dean’s voice suddenly called. He walked into the room. 

“Why'd you have to keep digging?” Sam asked.“Why couldn't you have left well enough alone? You were happy.”

Your mother walked up to you and put a hand to your cheek. “Put the knife down, honey.”

“You're not real,” you said, tears forming in your eyes. “None of it is.”

“It doesn't matter. It's still better than anything you had,” Steven replied, holding his daughter. 

“What?” you breathed.

“It's everything you want. C’mon, let’s go home,” Dean pleaded. 

“I'll die,” you argued, voice breaking. “The Djinn 'll drain the life out of me in a couple of days.”

“But in here, with us, it'll feel like years. Like a lifetime,” your mother said. “I promise.” She put her hand to your cheek and stroked it with her thumb. “No more pain. Or fear. Just love and comfort. And safety. (Y/N), stay with us. Get some rest.”

“You and Dean don't have to worry about Sam anymore,” Jessica said. “You get to watch him live a full life.”

Dean walked up to you and kissed you fiercely. “We can have a future together. Have our own family. I love you, sweetheart. Please.”

“Why is it our job to save everyone? Haven't we done enough?” Sam tried. “I'm begging you. Give me the knife.”

You looked over to Steven, your lip quivering as you sobbed. “I’m sorry.” You slashed your throat with the knife, and the world went white once more. 

***

“(Y/N)!” you heard someone yelling. “Sweetheart, wake up. (Y/N)!”

‘Dean.’

“Oh, God. Come on,” you heard Sam murmuring. “Hey. Wake up. Wake up, damn it!”

You began to roll your head a little, and your eyes could finally open. “Hey, guys.”

“Jesus, (Y/N),” Dean sighed. “I thought I lost you for a second.” 

One of the two boys yanked out the IV in your arm. 

“You almost did,” you joked half-heartedly.

“Oh, god,” Dean muttered, giving you a once-over. “Let's get you down.”

You winced as the boys helped you down, but you suddenly saw a pair of blue eyes glowing behind the boys. “Boys!”

Sam wheeled around, going at the Djinn with the knife. Dean immediately tried to get you away from the scene and set you down a distance away from the scene. “Stay here!” he ordered.

“Don’t have much of a choice, do I,” you groaned as Dean turned to help his brother. Several yelps and groans later, the two boys staggered over to you after having killed the Djinn. You pushed yourself off the floor, wincing, and immediately moved over to the girl you’d been seeing in your sleep. “She's still alive!” you called to the boys upon feeling a pulse in her neck. 

The two Winchesters helped you cut her down and get her out of the factory to a hospital. 

***

Upon your return to the motel, you found out from the hospital that she was alive and stable. There was a solid chance the girl would pull through.

“How 'bout you? You all right?” Sam asked you.

“Yeah, I’m fine, guys,” you said. “I’m great, actually. I’m just— I’m just glad to be back here again.”

“What was it like?” Dean asked.

“Oh, you were a complete dick,” you replied.

Dean chuckled. “Sounds about right.”

“And Sam— Sam you were such a freak,” you said. “All stuffy and Stanford-y.” You paused for a moment. “But, uh, you guys were really breakin’ my heart, honestly. You couldn’t get along to save your life.”

“I thought it was supposed to be this perfect fantasy,” Sam said.

“Trust me, it wasn’t,” you replied. “I know we’ve lost a lot, but, uh, I wouldn’t trade any of this for the world. Even seeing Stevie again, I— it just wasn’t right. I felt like more of a freak there than I do here. I, uh, I wished what happened to me at the prison never had, but the truth is, that’s always gonna be with me. I can’t just… get rid of it. Nothing can. And that’s not okay, but I’ll learn to live with it.” 

You left the boys to sit with your words and moved to the bathroom. When you looked up at the mirror, an image of you with your mussed-up hair and guard uniform on flashed before you. You ignored the fresh-looking scrapes on your arm and blood streaking down them and shut your eyes. When you opened them once more, you were back to looking at your sunken face and tired eyes. 

Dealing with this was hell. Every day felt like a struggle since what happened to you. But deep down, if you were honest with yourself, you would take dealing with all this with your two boys over your white-picket-fence, Djinn-dream-life any day.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[cassidyandonlycassidy]

no one man should have all that power

miguel o'hara x reader

words: 2k

warnings: 18+ only!!!, smut, NONCON!, RAPE!, size difference (canon, miguel just big as hell), DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, dark!miguel, p in v sex, threats, mentions of anal, cleaning lady!reader, attempted rape by not miguel/attempted mugging

your focus is half on your phone playing the local news through your headphones, and half on scrubbing down the sink in front of you. 

you don't move on until it's spotless. perfectly clean. you're willing to use every tool in your arsenal considering this is your pickiest client.

you are about to spray down the shower and allow the chemicals to soak and do part of the work for you, when the news anchor shifts the conversation.

“and to discuss the issue of spiderman, please welcome nypd captain charleston and queens resident andrea roberts.”

your attention shifts fully to your phone. andrea begins, a sweet looking older lady who explains that spiderman saved her from being mugged. you feel your heart beat faster when they flash images of him on screen, his wide shoulders, dark black and red suit hugging his body and abs.

“and what happens when spiderman begins to ask for something in return? he saves you from being mugged, but then demands a payment. what happens when he starts to use his powers for evil instead of good? we must focus on unmasking him and stopping his crusade of the city. no one man should have all that power.”

you have to reach quickly to shut your phone off, powering down the screen and turning off the captains words as your client enters the bathroom.

“almost done?” she asks, a frown on her overfilled lips, shining with a lipgloss to distract from the fact that her skin is almost painfully stretched.

“yes ma’am.” you nod. “just the shower is left.”

“hmm…” you wait for her to find a critique, even the tiniest speck of dust that you missed, but she's unable to as she sighs dramatically. “i have a party to get to. see yourself out, the door will lock behind you.”

“and payment?” you hate having to ask just from the way her eyes turn dark, clearly annoyed with your questions, and while she may be one of your worst clients, she's also one of your best paying. 

“on the kitchen counter.” she says before turning on her bright red heels and stomping away.

you sigh and turn your phone back on, frowning when you realize the spiderman coverage is already over before turning your attention to the shower.

--

you're whistling to yourself as you head home, needing the music to keep you from deciding to just pass out on the nearest bench, and you don't dare put your headphones in after the sun has set.

a full day of cleaning apartments from the elite of the city, and now you have to head back to your tiny one.

you clutch your tote bag further into your side, knowing there's cash from the few clients who refuse to prepay with a credit card until they see the work you've done, despite never leaving a client unsatisfied.

“hey pretty lady.” you're used to the cat calls, so you just keep walking past the man, not acknowledging him even when you hear him push off the wall and follow you, footsteps heavy and far too close for your liking.

“i said hey!” he shouts, voice turning aggressive. you look around, but there's no one else on the empty street but a few distant cars. “bitch, you gonna be nice and say hello back?”

the man grips your shoulder and forces your feet to stop. your eyes widen as you come face to face with him, his eyes furious and breath smelling of alcohol.

“hello.” you whisper out, hoping that's all it will take for him to leave you alone, but of course it's not as he shoves you into the dark alley between two apartment buildings.

“since you wanna be a bitch, you can get on your knees and suck my dick.” he's too strong as he shoves you down onto your knees, roughly hitting the pavement as you cry out, hoping someone hears you.

“and you can give me all your money too, whore.”

“now that's not a way to talk to a woman.” 

the voice makes both of you jump as you turn to see spiderman emerge out of the shadows, even taller than you pictured him.

the drunk man scatters before spiderman can get any closer.

“th-thank you, spiderman.” you know you must sound pathetic right now, voice breathy and still on your knees as he steps closer.

when his hand reaches down, you don't hesitate to place your hand in his and allow him to pull you to your feet.

“are you alright?” his voice is soft and smooth like butter and it makes you swoon even more.

“thanks to you.” you know you're blushing as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, one hand still clasped in his.

“and what about thanks?” spiderman leans down. “would you give me a kiss to thank me?”

“i-yes.” you don't think about what it means as the area around his mouth and chin disintegrates, showing off his strong jaw and plump lips.

despite him being almost bent over, you still have to raise yourself onto your tiptoes to press your lips against his.

the kiss that you meant to be soft and sweet is quickly intensified as he pulls you up, arms wrapping around you to hold you effortlessly in the air as his mouth devours yours.

“wait!” you pull away, eyes widening when you realize that at some point the rest of the disguise covering his face has also been pulled away.

he's even more handsome than you could have imagined. perfect cheekbones leading to a strong nose, his eyes big and brown, showing all the intensity behind them.

“what?” he huffs out, annoyed that the kiss ended so soon.

“i-i don't even know your name.” you admit shyly. while you're alright with giving spiderman a soft kiss as a thank you, you're not sure how you feel about the hot and heavy make out session.

“im spiderman, isn't that enough?” he frowns at you, wishing you would just shut up so he can do as he pleases.

“i-”

spiderman leans back in, attacking your lips with his. you don't know what to do, your feet are so far off the ground, and his arms are holding you so tight to his defined chest.

you relax and just allow it to happen, allow his mouth to press kiss after kiss against yours.

you let out a gasp when spidermans hand grips your chest, shifting your weight to one arm around your waist.

the open mouth allows his tongue to push inside, dominating the kiss in a whole new way as his palm rubs against your boobs.

“i-” you try to pull away, but to no avail as he's not willing to let you out of the kiss. 

spiderman moves until your back is pressed against the brick wall, his other hand dropping to your ass, holding you up that way instead.

his hand is so big, fingers stretching so far that he only has to press a bit more between your thighs to be against your pussy.

“how else are you gonna thank me, pretty?” he asks, finally letting you take a deep breath, his hand still squeezing your tits over your shirt.

“i don't want to do this anymore!” you squeal out now that you're able to talk.

“what?” his voice turns dark. “i saved you and you don't want to thank me?”

“i just want to go home!” you plead. you know there's no point in screaming or trying to run.

“not until you give me a proper thank you.” he growls out. “but since im feeling nice tonight, ill let you choose. should i fuck you or settle just for you sucking me off?”

“you can't do this!” you try to wiggle out of his hold, but he's too strong. 

“i can. who is gonna stop me?” the chuckle that escapes his mouth sounds like pure evil.

“i know what you look like! ill tell everyone. ill go to the news, to the police-”

“you think they'll believe you? im spiderman. i rule this city.” he shakes his head like he's disappointed in you for even mentioning it.

“but-” he continues on. “since you've taken so long to answer, ill just have to fuck you.”

you manage to get out one yell, one shout, one plead for no before spidermans mouth is back on yours.

his hand does move to cup your pussy, thick fingers sliding against your core. you feel your pussy wetten from the movements, traitorous and betraying your true intentions.

you whimper against his lips as your pants are ripped away along with your underwear, literally tearing them easily off your body.

he must have disintegrated or called back part of his suit, you have no idea how the technology works, and you certainly have no interest in figuring it out now as you feel his cock slide through your folds.

spiderman has to pull away to slide you lower, your back moving down the brick wall as his strong hands guide your hips until his cock is against your entrance, poking in.

“you're- you're too big.” you try again to plead with him. “you'll tear me in half.”

he just shrugs, a smirk even twitching at the corner of his lips as he pushes you down, hips rising up to sink you down onto his cock.

you cry out, head falling back as he continues to move, feeling like it's never ending as he continues to split your insides to make room for him.

“shit!” spiderman shouts out. “you're so tight.”

you want to say it's because you're not turned on, that you don't truly want this, but you don't want to anger him even more as his hips begin to thrust up into you.

you cry out, tears beginning to stream down your cheeks. it's not as painful after a minute, your pussy adjusting to his length and girth as he fucks you without abandon.

spiderman steps away from the wall and switches so his back is pressed against it as he begins to move you up and down, using you as he would a toy to pleasure himself, but instead of thrusting into plastic, he's pushing repeatedly into your cunt.

you lean forward, hands balancing against his defined chest, needing the stability as your body is forced into taking his cock.

“please!” you cry out.

“quit crying or it'll get worse.” you're not sure how it could get worse until the hand on his hip moves, moving between your ass cheeks and pressing a finger against your other hole.

“im sorry.” you quickly say, looking up in fear that just spews spiderman faster, pumping you up and down without even breaking a sweat.

“so warm and wet.” he smiles down. “are you sure you don't want this?”

you stay silent, hoping the experience ends soon as you feel his cock swelling inside of you, pushing against your walls.

“you gonna cum with me?” he asks, other hand reaching to swirl around your clit. you wish his rough fingertip didn't feel so good against your sensitive bud.

“i don't want to.” you whimper out, entire body slumping forward as you struggle to remain in control, feeling your hips begin to shake and the way your cunt clenches around his length.

“you're gonna. come on.” the bouncing, the movement of your body up and down and the way you're practically speared onto his cock is all too much as you let out a squeal, cumming hard just as spiderman does as well, shooting his seed inside of you, feeling like it's right into your womb from how deep it is.

“oh, fuck.” he moans out. “now that was a good thank you.”

he pulls you off his cock and places you back onto the ground where your legs instantly crumple, landing in a heap against the concrete.

“don't forget your bag.” spiderman kicks your tote bag that had fallen off your shoulder towards you, spewing the cash all over the ground.

you look up at him, fear no longer in your eyes, replaced with anger and disgust. you know nothing will happen to him, but from this moment on, taking down spiderman will be your only goal.

no one man should have all that power.

[untoldstar]

male!yandere hacker x fem! reader

warnings: reader being watched from their webcam without their knowledge, nsfw content, obsessive behavior and infatuation, stalking, readers privacy being breached.

hey! I'm sure someone will find this hot but this is your reminder to stay safe and be careful. It's super easy for someone to watch you at any time. This might be a silly lil post but this is a real thing that happens so stay safe loves and cover your webcams.

yandere hacker! Who simply stumbled upon your webcam one day having done this a million times before, honestly how do people still allow themselves to be so vulnerable like this? it's laughable.

He doesn't care for their files or their credit card information and he isn't selling the footage on the dark web or anything he's just..bored to put it plainly.

yandere hacker! Who watches you do mundane ordinary things, he sits there for hours watching you listen to music, watching your favorite series, type out your essay that's due for next week, he finds himself focusing on how you bite your lips when you're concentrating on the events unfolding on your screen or how you furrow your eyebrows and don't take your eyes off your screen for a second as the words flow out of you when your typing out you essays.

He hacks into your files to read what you write, sometimes sneaking in a small edit of his own on your work hoping you don't notice.

He accesses your monitor so he can feel like he's a part of your routine, bringing his own snacks as he watches your movies with you, reading your texts with your friends, listening to your playlist with you. He only took notice of his growing obsession for you when he realized he hadn't hacked into a single webcam since seeing you. He felt it was really getting bad when he'd find himself spending hours on end at his desk simply staring at you until his eyes became dry and blood shot.

When you're not doing anything particular on your computer he still keeps your webcam on his screen monitor as he goes about his day so that whenever you use your computer he knows immediately.

yandere hacker! Who never used his skills for perverted reasons, he didn't watch webcams to catch a girl changing or find some dude jacking off to porn. That didn't interest him in the least. But when he glanced at his monitor and caught a glimpse of you lifting your shirt over your head, your back facing him, he just couldn't look away, his eyes were glued to his screen. A small tiny voice in his head prayed that you'd turn around even if just for a moment.

He internally thanked god when a ding sounded from your computer, the notification showing up on the corner of his screen as well and for once he found your friend actually useful.

You turn around and walk to your screen bending down and squinting your eyes slightly to read the message and he feels his dick hardening, a visible tent forming in his pants.

It starts to become a habit. A routine even. Watching you get out of the shower, hair still dripping wet, skin glistening and flushed from the hot water. You remove the towel from around your body and chuck it at a nearby chair, starting with your routine by applying your body lotion and oil and that's when he starts getting comfortable in his desk chair and slowly unzips his pants. His favorite part is just about to start.

Wet lewd sounds and heavy breathing fill both of your rooms, he was pleasantly surprised when he discovered that you occasionally like to take care of yourself after having a shower and soon enough he joined in too.

He pants as his hands move quicker around his cock matching the pace of your fingers moving in and out of you, biting back his moans so he can hear yours clearly. With a shaky hand, he reaches over to his mouse and raises the volume. Your moans and whimpers echo loudly from his monitor.

He finds himself liking being a part of your activity here too, he edges himself waiting until you're close so you can both come together. After the first few times, he started recognizing your body's signals, your whimpers become a pitch higher, your pace becomes more sloppy and desperate than steady, too focused on chasing your high, and your hips start meeting your fingers halfway.

His head falls back and he lets out a loud moan as you both come at the same time. Both your hands slow down and your chests rise and fall as you catch your breaths and he feels a warm twisted feeling bloom inside his chest, the way you're both in sync makes him feel like he's there with you, touching you with his fingers inside you instead of your own.

The fog inside his brain clears up and he looks down at his lap to his cum leaking and covering his hand. He feels perverted like he reached the highest level of intrusion. These feelings always swirl around his chest at moments like this but they always go away as quickly as they come because he knows he can't stop.

You're just too sweet, and you seem to have fallen right into his hands and he's not letting you go.

[ghost-bxrd]

I’ve been getting really into magical stuff recently and also DC so I’m just gonna drop this here:

Fae Dick Grayson

F A E

okay so fae stories are special to me because I grew up on hearing pagan folklore and fairytales about fae and fae adjacent creatures as good night stories so hooo boy yes I adore that trope! (I mean, I made Dick a Banshee in my fic Shuck so… hehe)

Anyway, Fae Dick Grayson! There’s just so many things you can do with it ✨

Robin appears from one day to the next, following in Batman’s shadow like a mischievous sprite, so honestly rumors have been going wild about him since day one. Robin actually being something non-human doesn’t really come as a surprise!

The fae folk are known for being awfully good at blending in with regular humans when they put their mind to it, the only thing that puts them apart (in most stories) is their otherworldly beauty, and Dick Grayson? Well, he’s definitely got that in abundance.

Just sometimes, when the light reflects off a surface in just the right way, when someone pours a glass of water and you happen to look right through the spray, or when you think you catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye and you spin around— but there’s only Dick Grayson, even if a second ago you could have sworn you saw eyes where there weren’t supposed to be any; colors that aren’t supposed to exist; feathers where only skin has any right to be.

And, gods, all the talking. Dick is terrifyingly good at talking to people without actually saying anything, to the point where you walk away from the conversation feeling utterly drained after spilling your entire life story but when you think back on it— you can’t remember him ever telling you anything about himself. You know there were the usual pleasantries of “hi” and “nice to meet you” and “how are you doing?” but anything beyond that just kinda… seemed to spill out of you? It’s very strange. It’s very unnerving. By the end of the evening you other convince yourself you’re overreacting or you simply push the incident out of your mind altogether.

And there’s another thing about Dick. His name.

He only ever introduces himself as Dick Grayson/Robin. Never Richard. Never. Especially not Richard John. Names are sacred for the fae folk, names have power, so while Richard John Grayson may not be Dick’s true name, he treats it as such to honor his parents. None are allowed to use it. None except Bruce or Alfred on special occasion.

Of course, Dick’s “true” name isn’t exactly a secret so when someone does happen to use it… well, Dick may be… other… but he’s still intrinsically good in a way many of his kind don’t have the patience to be. Dick judges on a case by case basis, just like his parents and Bruce taught him. And usually people do not mean it maliciously when they use his name so he kindly corrects them and that’s that. But oh man, if they still insist on calling him “Richard”? Well..

“Oh no, it seems your credit card is being declined, sir!”

“Sheesh, you tripped over a root? In Gotham?!”

“What do you mean ten birds flew into your window last night? You live on floor level!”

“Dude I’m telling you that rash doesn’t look normal.”

“I… don’t think crows are supposed to follow you like that.”

It’s little things (most of the time, unless you really pissed Dick off) but they keep piling up, slowly driving you insane. You feel like you’re being watched, but it’s just a bird sitting on the window sill again. You feel like someone moved all your furniture just slightly to the right even tho you checked all the cameras.

The fae are kind, but they are also vindictive when crossed.

(Thanks to Bruce, however, I think Dick’s bouts of “vengeance” rarely go much farther than that though.)

Dang ok that ended up being an entire rant… wow. Anyway, yeah. Fae.

[sehodreams]

your headcanon of each riize mmbrs kinks?

Sorry it took so long, I think I wrote too much hahahaha

Riize kinks

TW: idk man, everything seems safe to me but my mind is kinda weird so better read each kink next to the name

Shotaro - anal play, hair pulling

Okay, he's a bit of a soft guy, but that doesn't mean he's not a bit twisted. He likes the usual stuff, a missionary guy and gives his fair share of head. However, of course there had to be something, he dies for anal stuff, and even if you tell him no, sometimes you'll feel his finger playing with that little place when you're too into the moment, and you kinda like it to be honest, so after much begging from him you decide to accept, and oh god, why did you have to accept, now he's too into doggy style and loves to pull your hair and watch his dick fuck that little place, with you ass jiggling every thrust.

Oh, and let's not talk about rimming, after a few weeks he's gonna beg you to let him do that too, fingering your pussy to distract you from his tongue touching that spot.

Sungchan - Size kink, strength kink, breath play

So Sungchan is a big guy, he knows it, everyone knows it, and you kinda liked him for that, he being bigger made you feel protected and safe, who would've thought you would need someone to protect you from him.

He loves being rude with you, and you too of course, you love how he makes you feel small, moving you around as if you weighted nothing, carrying you around, tossing you to the bed without any real effort, or fucking you to the wall, you in the air trying to not fall with your arms around his neck.

Also, choking, god, he loves to see how he can hold your throat with his big hand, making sure you can't breath when you're about to cum.

It was normal for you to find purple and green spots the next day, even in places you had no idea he touched, you could see his marks everywhere, your throat, your legs, hips, even on your tits, you would have to spent a lot more money on makeup because of him and the strength he didn't notice he used on you, or well, at least he says that.

Eunseok - daddy kink, breading kink, pet names

Eunseok likes to control everything, including you, and you like him to control you too, you like to feel someone takes care of you and how important you're for him.

He loves to drive you everywhere, and to buy you anything you need, making sure you always had what you needed and more, rent? Coffee? Clothes? You had his credit card for something. In bed, however, he liked to punish you, he wanted you to beg for him, for you to call him daddy, because he was your daddy, right honey?

He loves to call you pretty names, baby, princess, bunny, you were his everything, but in bed he had to make sure he wasn't spoiling you too much, and like everything in life, you had to earn him, his dick was your prize only if you were a good girl, if you didn't do like he told you that day, why would you think you should cum? You can't, just like he said, he loves you, and he had to do what he had to do for you, he can't let his pretty baby go around acting out without consequences.

And you're his princess, but he loves the way his cum drips out of your used pussy, how pretty you look crying, begging him to put a baby inside you, "oh, so you want a baby? Oh honey, of course you'll have a baby", he just loves to make your wishes come true, so prepare yourself to be filled until you can't anymore.

Seunghan - dumbification, dacryphilia, corruption kink

He's a good guy, everyone thinks he's a sensible and kind boy, always smiling around and giving a hand when needed, that is what made you fall for him, how kind he was to everyone without exceptions.

When you gave him the green light to have sex, he was the most gentle first time you could ever think of, making sure you were always comfortable, telling you how pretty you are and how happy he was to be your first time.

And he was, until he wasn't gentle anymore. It started slowly, making you do more and more, because he was right, you needed to learn how to suck cock, it was the most common think between couples, and of course not being able to breath with the tip of his dick on your throat was normal, you just had to get used to it!

He would make you cum and cum until you cried, or he would push you to the edge but not to the end, he was sorry he didn't noticed you didn't cum, but you just had to try again, and of course, you had to try and try until you cried, begging him to finally let you cum. He just loved to see how desperate you cried, begging to stop or to not stop, but begging at the end.

You were his pretty girl, and of course he had to take care of you, so he would find any possible way to satisfy you, he would make you addicted to orgasms, you calling him embarrassed because you needed him was his favorite thing in the world, and you needed him so bad, how could you not if at the end of every session you couldn't think of anything else? Nothing else mattered if you were together, he fucking you until you couldn't talk, until you were just a bunch of moans and tears and you came so hard you ended passing out the whole night.

He was the best boyfriend!

Sohee - overstimulation, cum play

I think Sohee is tired of being called cute, he doesn't want to be cute, he wants to be handsome and to be strong enough to take care of you, or at least to ruin you.

He's addicted to overstimulating you, making you cum and cum until you have to beg him to stop and the sheets are so wet he has to change them. He loves being messy, using toys to make you cum at least three times, it gives him the feeling he can't have when he's around other people, in bed with you he's not cute at all, he's the one who thinks you're cute, sensitive and crying of pleasure. It's not that he likes to be a dom, he just doesn't like being seen as adorable, and he doesn't make you beg to recieve his attention, nor does he punish you, he lives to pleasure you, he just likes to pleasure you a bit too much.

He also likes to leave traces in your body, cumming over your pussy and smearing it around, or maybe on your tummy, on your tits? Better let him cum everywhere, he likes to see you covered with his cum, he loves when you open your mouth after he cums too, full of his semen, and when you drink it and show him your clean tongue after? You totally deserve a couple more orgasms.

Wonbin - somnophilia, mommy kink

He doesn't sleep that much but he actually loves sleeping, and he also loves having sex, so if you were to wake him up with your mouth on his cock or bouncing over his dick he would fucking thank you, he just loves being used by you so much, and if you're doing the work and letting him enjoy it half asleep he's even happier.

He also likes to see you sleep, when he comes back after practice really late at night and you're just there, beautifully sleeping on one side of his bed, he just wants to fuck you like that, and he does, he pulls down your shorts/pants or he pushes your panties to the side, and he doesn't need to prepare you, he knows you'll easily take him, so he fucks you while you sleep, and when you're waking up he gives you a sweet kiss telling you he almost finishes and you can sleep again.

On the other hand, he also has a bit of mommy kink, there'll be times in which he just wants to beg and be used by you, he wants you to tell him what to do to make you happy, because that'd make him happy. Also loves every time you tell him he's such a good boy for you, your good boy, he deserves a prize right? So can you sit on his face please? Or can he cum inside you? Pretty please?

Anton - drunk sex, oral sex, squirting and pissing kink

He was so shy most of the time, it took you so long for him to finally open to you, and when he got old enough to drink with you he wanted to do it all the time. Listening to some draft songs he had on his computer while drinking was his favorite kind of afternoon with you.

It quickly became a making out session most of the time, too hot because of the alcohol you had drank, both eager and humping each other like crazy, trying to feel as much pleasure as possible. The alcohol really helped him to lose up one time, maybe too much, he practically begged you to sit on his face, and you were to drunk to feel ashamed, so you did it, you took off your panties and sat on his face with your skirt on. He couldn't see anything but did his best to eat you out, desperately licking your sex, bumping his nose to your clit, dying for you to cum on his face. When you did, cumming harder than ever, asfixiating him for a couple seconds until you could move out of his face, when you saw the poor boy's face his mouth was glistening from your juices. You both laughed softly and he moved to kiss you like that, you tasting your own flavor. His hand caressed your legs and then he slipped two fingers inside you, preparing you for his dick, like he usually did every time you fucked. However, he never expected that to happen, you both were so into the moment that when that liquid came out of you with force, he noticed something was different when his hand was dripping to the floor, when you both looked down to the mess you had made, he became obsessed and did everything he could to repeat it again and again, leaving the floor and his bed sheets with wet spots.

He easily became addicted to that feeling, the control he had over your body to make you squirt was everything for him, and he specially liked to do it drunk because you were more relaxed and it was easier to make the kind of mess he liked to clean. Also, that liking for squirting would easily turn into a pissing kink, he liked to make you endure short times of you wanting to piss so he could finger you and see the mess you'd make, or in the shower he would beg you to piss in front of him, he just loves that relieved look on your face and every liquid that comes out of your pussy.

[misseviehyde]

STUDENT BODY

Your girlfriend Natasha was really worried about what was going to happen to your relationship once you started to attend different universities. She'd heard that long distance relationships could be really challenging and difficult.

Sure - it was always possible to communicate online and see each other that way, but without physical intimacy even the healthiest relationships would falter. But Natasha was always full of clever ideas.

"Listen babe. I've had an idea. My family have been guarding a magic scrying mirror for generations. I can use it to astrally project my spirit into another person. It's frowned upon to possess another person, but if it's just so we can talk and touch and stuff, I don't see the harm. Make sure you choose someone who is a real asshole though, that way I'll feel less bad about possessing them.

***

A month later you headed to University and began looking for someone suitable for Natasha to possess. It didn't take you long to find your target. Chanel Grey was the obnoxious, entitled sorority president of the most exclusive sorority on campus and perfect for your needs.

It didn't hurt that you had a huge crush on the busty bitch and the thought of your girlfriend inside that smoking hot body was kind of appealing. Chanel was a total asshole as well, so your girlfriend needn't feel bad about possessing her for a while.

You waited until Chanel was out shopping on her own one day and followed her to the mall. She usually had her team of funkies with her, but today she was flying solo and this was your best chance.

Ringing Natasha you waited patiently as she prepared the mirror in her bedroom. "Okay babe, I'll see you in a moment or two I guess."

You hung up and watched Chanel as she browsed through an expensive rack of designer clothes in one of her favourite stores. Suddenly she put a hand to her head as if she were dizzy. Then with a grunt her eyes rolled up into her head and she swayed on her feet slightly.

Moments later she shivered and her eyes came back into focus... only they seemed different somehow.

Chanel looked around, then spotting you walked confidently over. "Heya babe. What a body you found for me. I wasn't expecting you to pick anyone this hot."

It had worked. It had actually worked. Natasha was now inside Chanel!

She giggled and admired herself in a mirror. "Wow - this bitch is super stacked. She must have boobs three times the size of mine. And how fit is this body? Guess she must work out."

Natasha stretched, clearly enjoying how it felt to be inside Chanel. She then did a cursory check of her body, checking her pockets and her handbag.

"And I'm guessing she's rich too. I would never be able to afford a store like this. I'm guessing this is her Daddy's credit card. I mean I could try accessing her memories to check, but that can be dangerous. It can cause memories to get entwined."

You nodded not really understanding what she was saying but agreeing nonetheless.

"Only problem you've made for us is that someone is bound to notice us talking if we aren't careful. Chanel probably wouldn't be seen dead with someone like you. I wish you'd picked someone a little bit more low key even if they did have smaller boobs."

Natasha grabbed your hand and dragged you into the store. She pulled you into one of the dressing rooms and began fumbling at your belt.

"I know I said no sex, but this body is making me super horny. I don't think Chanel is a virgin, especially if those XXX condoms she is carrying in her handbag are anything to go by."

Giggling Natasha pulled out your cock and she smirked when she saw it was already rock hard. It looked so naughty in Chanel's lightly tanned hands - another woman's hands.

"Wow, guess you like Chanel's body too. Don't try to pretend this isn't what you wanted when you picked her as your target. Guess you now get to be sucked off by little Miss Popular."

With a giggle Natasha slid her pink glossy lips round your dick and began to suck. It felt good... really good and looking down you couldn't believe you were getting a blowjob from the most popular girl at uni. Turning to look at the dressing room mirror, you couldn't believe how hot it looked to see Chanel Grey's pretty head bobbing up and down on your cock. She was so fucking hot and now she was your slut.

Suddenly Natasha hesitated and her eyes went a little wide for a second. A moment later she attacked your dick with a fresh wave of enthusiasm, only this time it felt even better! Natasha was doing something with her tongue you had never felt before and her lips seemed tighter than ever. She was also making eye contact now and little groaning sounds and together it was all too much.

You began to cum and groaning you ejaculated into Natasha's mouth. It felt really good and it was a big heavy load. "Mmmhppphhh," gurgled Natasha happily.

To your surprise, she swallowed all of your load. Normally Natasha hated the taste of cum and would spit it out, but now she was inside Chanel, she seemed to enjoy it. Delicately wiping her pretty lips, she smiled and let go of your cock.

"Mmmh, sorry if I zoned out for a second there baby," she grinned. "I accidentally accessed Chanel's memories on blowjobs. Damn but she knows her stuff and she's sucked some good dick. Bigger than yours I guess."

You felt a sudden irrational jealousy. It wasn't like Natasha had actually sucked someone else's dick, but her having those memories seemed wrong somehow.

"I wish we had time for you to fuck me properly, but we'll get busted if we stay in here any longer. Come on."

Sorting out her hair and makeup Natasha indicated you should wait a moment and she slipped out first.

You waited a few minutes, then slipped out too. Looking around for Natasha you cursed as you saw her with a group of hot looking girls. She'd bumped into Chanel's friends! She made eye contact with you for a second then shrugged. Desperate not to blow her cover she decided to just go with it and helpless you watched her walk away with them - just like the real Chanel would.

****

Hours passed when your phone began to buzz. You weren't expecting a phone call from an unknown number, but you answered and it was Chanel's voice on the other end.

"Sorry about that babe. I couldn't get away from those bitches. I had to access more of my... I mean Chanel's memories just to convince them I was her."

Natasha began to explain how she had spent the rest of the morning with the girls doing hot girl shit. Hair, makeup, nails, coffee, more shopping.

Natasha usually hated all that kind of stuff, so you were surprised to hear genuine enthusiasm in her voice.

"I was pissed off that you chose this body for me at first. But the longer I spend as Chanel, the more I'm starting to enjoy being beautiful and popular. It's a unique experience. I understand how this body possession could get quite addictive. It's said that if you astrally project for too long your soul can bond with the wrong body and you get stuck forever. Imagine that. Imagine if I was Chanel permanently."

Her voice was joking, but also had a strange undertone to it.

"Of course I'm only doing this for a bit at a time so should be safe. I'm gonna hop back to my own body in a second. First though I've been horny all morning and haven't got off yet. Chanel has quite the selection of sex toys and I thought you'd like to listen. Right now I'm lying on her bed playing with myself."

You felt your cock stiffen as Natasha began to describe what she was doing.

"Mmmmh I'm touching Chanel's big bitchy tits and rubbing her tight pink pussy. Her soft hair is all around me and I feel like such a hot slut. Her pussy and clit are more sensitive than mine, you'd love this tight pussy. I have a finger inside myself. It feels so fucking good. I can't believe how wet I am already. Ooooh fuck yes."

Natasha began to moan and pant, you imagined her arching her back and gasping like a slut as she played with herself. You wished you were there, you were so jealous.

"Yesssss, yessss, I fucking love this body. I'm gonna cum so good in a bit. Mmmmh think I'll try this big thick dildo to help me get there. I want you to imagine it sliding inside my tight cunt, stretching me out baby. Chanel's tight pussy gripping every inch as I begin to pump it in and out. Ooooh fucccckkk."

Wet sounds of pleasure and pants and moans of lust came down the phone and you began to pump your own cock faster. This was so fucking hot.

"Ooooooh fuck, it's never felt THIS good before. Mmmmmh my new body was built for sex. Ooooh shit I can take it deeper than ever before, I feel like such a hot slut. My pussy is gonna explode! Ahhhh ohhhhh fuckkkk."

A screaming gasping squealing squirt of pleasure blasted down the phone as Natasha began to cum and you creamed your own belly with more of your own cum. The thought of her enjoying Chanel's body was just too erotic. That had been so hot.

"Mmmh, think I might play with myself a bit more before leaving her body. She won't properly remember everything she did when I was in control, just the gist. It's her brains own mental defense helping to keep my possession secret. She'll think she did all of this. So long as I don't do anything too out of character - I can have this hot little body whenever I like."

And with that she hung up...

***

For the next week you looked forward to your girlfriends daily possessions of Chanel. As Natasha predicted, the popular girl didn't seem to notice anything amiss and she certainly didn't show any indication she recognised you at uni.

It was strange to see that pretty face look at you blankly. The same face that hours before had been sucking you off or kissing you. To your shame you began to fantasize more and more about Chanel's beautiful features and soft sexy voice than Natasha's body.

But there was frustration too. Mostly the possessions seemed to involve a quick blowjob or handjob, then Natasha would go off with Chanel's friends. There was never anytime to have proper sex. Natasha even refused your offers to eat her out or finger her. You had never actually gotten to see Chanel's pussy.

Her popularity and prestige made it hard for you to spend any time whilst she was Chanel and you began to regret choosing such an exclusive target.

Natasha was acted weird too. She seemed to have accessed more of Chanel's memories for some reason and even when in her own body was acting more aloof and haughty. She'd started working out, stopped wearing her glasses and she sounded like she was starting to treat everyone like a real bitch.

She also seemed to be enjoying hanging out with Chanel's friends and living the life of a popular bitch more than she should. Her stories began to focus more and more on how much she had enjoyed hanging out with her girls and bullying the losers on campus, than the chance to be with you.

You were shocked the first time she described bullying someone. Shocked at how full of glee and enthusiasm she was.

"Some dumb little bitch dared to get in my way in the store. Can you believe it? She walked right out in front of me and when she saw who I was tried to apologise. I pushed the little loser into a clothes rail and knocked her over. She won't dare complain to the Dean, she knows I'd destroy her life. I left her crying in the shop - it was SO funny."

The possessions were supposed to bring you both closer together, not push you further apart, but now you were really starting to worry. Natasha had even insisted you set up a monthly payment to Chanel's bank account so she could buy even more clothes and things - but she never wore them for you.

The first real betrayal came when you found out that Natasha had been possessing Chanel on some days and not even telling you. She accidentally let slip a story about having dinner with her girls and you realised she hadn't told you she was available that day.

"Oh yeah? So? I sometimes slip back into Chanel when you're not around or I just feel like some me time. Her body fits me like a glove these days, I can hop in with no resistance anymore and I enjoy living her pampered life for a bit. What's your problem with that loser?"

You were shocked to hear the venom in her voice.

"Oh did I call you a loser? Sorry babe - that's what Chanel thinks about you. I've been accessing more of her memories and it's hard to fight off her impression of you as a nerdy, worthless, loser. I mean - of course I don't think that about you. Anyway gotta go."

She cut you off abruptly and that was the end of that.

***

The next betrayal happened soon after.

Natasha had stopped giving you blowjobs when she possessed Chanel, saying she was too busy or didn't feel like it. If you were lucky, you'd get a disinterested handjob from her and even that was becoming rarer.

It was like Natasha no longer cared about possessing Chanel to spend time with you, but simply so she could BE Chanel. It was also clear she had pretty much accessed all of Chanel's memories now and it had affected her.

Natasha's old speech patterns were gone. Whether she was inside Chanel or not she now spoke like a bitchy valley girl. Now when she called you 'babe' it was with a hint of mockery and her pretty lips always had a cruel bitchy sneer and her eyes a glint of malice. She held herself with a haughty arrogance and her body language had become like that of a spoiled ballet dancer.

"Just look at me. I'm so fucking PERFECT," purred Natasha as she admired herself in her stolen body. "Sorry 'babe' no time to give that tiny dick of yours a blowie. I have to meet the girls for some shopping. I have a new set of lingerie I'm desperate to try. See you later loooooser."

Despite Natasha's increasing distance, the dirty phonecalls continued and it had become the only source of your sex life. You'd listen to Chanel/Natasha moaning down the phone-line and telling you about fucking herself whilst touching yourself.

Recently though Natasha had told you that you weren't allowed to cum unless she said so. She also would cut off the phone unexpectedly, or sometimes not even ring at all leaving you blue-balled and desperate.

Then out of the blue she contacted you to tell you she had an idea how you could spend more time together.

"I've been telling all my hot friends about my cute sissy male friend... in other words you! If you go along with it and play the part, then I'm sure we can hang out more. All you gotta do is come over and act like a girly gay boy and the sorority will accept you. Maybe you'll even finally get to fuck me."

Natasha took you shopping and made you buy a load of new outfits. They were much tighter and more feminine than you were used to. Skin tight jeans, a crop top that showed off your body. You looked completely different. "There. Now you look more like a twink. We'll get your hair dyed blonde and styled, then get you into some of my panties and no one will believe you're straight."

You couldn't believe you were going along with it, but told yourself it would be worth it to spend more time with your hot girlfriend in her sexy new body.

She led you back to the sorority house and the girls swarmed you. You remembered what Natasha had told you, so you acted as camp as you possibly could. Strangely it came quite naturally, like you'd been putting on a masculine front for years and this was actually who you truly were.

To your surprise you began to have fun - gossiping, giggling, hanging out with the girls. You didn't even feel horny anymore.

Eventually Natasha showed you up to Chanel's amazing bedroom. It was quite a palace - as befitted the head of a sorority.

Lying on expensive silk sheets, she made you strip and try on her panties. You were a bit uncomfortable when she suddenly took some photos of you, but she promised they were just for fun and she'd delete them later.

Soon Natasha had images of you dressed in her bra, panties - wearing her makeup. It was like playing dress up it was fun.

You had hoped that she would now lock the door and offer to sleep with you at last - but to your disapointment she told you that she was tired and that the girls would get suspicious if you didn't come out soon.

Putting on your new outfit, you left the house feeling dejected - and yet strangely satisfied. It was like something was awaking inside you.

You wondered what tonight would bring...

***

After your dress up session, you hadn't been expecting more contact from Natasha, so it was a surprise when your phone rang that evening.

She sounded horny, there was a slutty catch in her voice and an excitement you couldn't quite place.

"Mmmmmh, heya 'babe'. So I'm lying here in some new expensive lingerie and I also picked up a new toy at the Mall. Wanna listen to me get off?"

Without waiting for your permission you heard the rustle of clothing and Natasha's breath catching. "Ohhhh wow, it's like nine inchs long or something. This really is a magnificent 'toy'."

You heard Natasha moan and soon there were sucking, slurping and popping sounds coming down the phone. It was unusual for her to simulate doing a blowjob, you imagined her lying on her back with a dildo in her mouth. She was doing a great job, it almost sounded like a real dick she was sucking.

Then you heard a grunt of pleasure. A male grunt. Did she... was she ACTUALLY sucking another guys cock? You angrily asked her causing her to giggle.

"Of course not babe, you must be hearing things. Mmmmhhh I'm here all on my own and I'm soooo fucking horny right now. Ohhh shit he's, mmmmh I mean I'm putting it inside me and it feels so good."

You heard the sounds of heavy breathing, then a soft wet slapping sound that grew harder and faster till it was soon the hot sound of hard male flesh slapping against soft female buttocks.

"Ooooh fuck YESSSS. You fuck me soooo good, I mean... my dildo fucks me so good. Ahhhhh ohhhh fuck, this feels amazing."

You were sure you could hear grunting and laughing as Natasha's moans of pleasure grew and the sounds of hot heavy fucking filled your ears.

It sounded like she was bent over on all fours now getting railed hard. Her breathing was heavy, you could hear the bed squeaking and shaking.

"Mmmmmh imagine if there really was a guy here fucking me. A big stong Alpha Jock with rippling muscles and a big dick?"

The slapping increased and Natasha let out a gutteral moan of pleasure.

"Making me cum in ways you never could. Ooohhhh fuck, what would you do about it then you fucking loser? You'd probably just jerk off to the thought anyway. You're so pathetic. Isn't he such a fucking cuck baby?"

Male laughter filled the line and the phone slipped out of your numb hands as the screams of ecstasy pumped out of your phone and you jerked off to the sound of your girlfriend getting pumped.

***

"Of course I didn't fuck a guy last night," laughed Natasha as you confronted her later. "It's all in your mind, you're just losing it. You pay me to pretend to be your girlfriend right so that's what I do. It's all make-believe."

You gawped at her in shocked amazement.

"Don't you remember loser? You wanted to pay me regular amounts to roleplay as your girlfriend and pretend she'd possessed me. I've got the monthly payments to prove it."

You shook your head in disbelief. No - this wasn't right. She WAS your girlfriend.

Chanel/Natasha laughed. "Oh come on. I knew you were mentally unstable, but seriously? You actually believe I'm your long distance girlfriend possessing this body? I mean - magic isn't possible loser. Fucking hell, I was worried you were losing your mind, but this is the final straw. Our little arrangement is over. I'm not pretending to be Natasha anymore and don't try to cause any trouble. I have photos of you dressed like a sissy loser I could release at any time, not to mention proof you've been paying me to pretend to be your girlfriend. It's over 'babe'."

Laughing Chanel walked away shaking her head.

***

Picking up the phone you desperately rang Natasha's cellphone. You were so confused. Was Natasha really possessing Chanel or had you invented the whole thing in your head.

No one answered so you called Natasaha's sister. She sounded upset on the phone.

That's when you found out that Natasha had been in a coma for nearly two weeks. Apparantly her family had come home one day to find her slumped over a table, totally unresponsive. It was like she wasn't there anymore - zero brain activity.

"We tried contacting you, but you didn't answer any of our calls or get back to us. What the hell is going on?"

You hung up - stunned.

Running over to the sorority house you banged on the door and demanded to be led to Chanel. You found her in her bedroom dressed in sexy lingerie and looking particularly bratty.

You accused her of abandoning her body, of becoming trapped inside Chanel. You begged her to leave Chanel and go back to her old body before it was too late. How long before her family decided to switch off the incubator and let her old body die. You begged and pleaded.

Chanel just looked at you coldly.

"Listen here you fucking loser. There are two possibilities you are describing. In one, I'm actually your stupid long-distance girlfriend who has become addicted to being a hot popular girl, absorbed all of her memories and replaced her. In this scenario I'm a body thief who loves what I have become and doesn't give a shit about you or anyone else.

In the second scenario, you're a crazy repressed sissy who has gone off the deep end at University due to the shock of his girlfriend falling into a coma. Full of unresolved guilt, you've created an elaborate fantasy pretending that I'm actually her - when in fact I'm Chanel Grey, popular girl and sorority president and that's who I have always been.

What I wanna know is - how in either of these scenarios you think it ends well for you? I know which scenario the police and everyone else will believe. I have photographic evidence that you're a pervert who wishes he was a girl. I have payments into my bank account for role-playing your girlfriend, and I can detail all the times I sucked your dick for money.

You have nothing. No evidence, no proof that any of this is true. You just sound like a fucking crack-pot.

Now why don't you get the fuck out of here before I call my new boyfriend over and get him to beat the shit out of you?"

What choice did you have? You turned and ran.

***

Chanel Grey watched the pathetic sissy loser she had just bullied turn and run with a thrill of sexual pleasure. She enjoyed being mean to people and indulging her cruel whims. Toying with this loser had been really fun.

Walking up to the mirror she examined her perfect reflection.

Who was she?

She was Chanel Grey. She was rich, spoiled and popular. She had a boyfriend with a big dick that was coming over to fuck her.

Nothing else mattered really.

THE END

[love-toxin]

yes pls tell me all ur thoughts on blade, luocha, gepard, jingyuan and kafka 😳 the eng va and trailers for jingyuan and kafka in particular got me acting up—just smthing about jingyuan’s lil smirk and laid bk countenance and how i know he can fuck the daylights out of anyone effortlessly—and kafka? yes ma’am anything for u pls slam ur foot against the wall behind me 🙏🏻

god bless im literally in love w/ all of them anon. would give my left nut for blade, luocha or jing yuan, gepard and kafka carry my team so hard. also bc i want them to step on my face.

also i wanna be toxic rn so under the cut ⬇️⬇️

blade -> prrrrrrrrr. big daddy. idk why but he gives me discord kitten daddy dom vibes. he manspreads. he gets pussy. he probably doesn't shower as often as he should. he's unapologetically a rude bitch. he absolutely girlbosses you into being his baby, he pulls out the "i feel nothing but you give me a taste of life" and keeps you so close you're basically part of him. handsy and off-putting in public for passersby but you can't get his hands off you, it's a losing battle babe. nd he's nasty freaky slimy and rubs his cock against you as a sign he wants to go home or just find someplace quiet. he doesn't like fucking you out in the open but he'll do it if the need arises--like if you "forget" that your body & soul belongs to him and need a harsh reminder. you're just his delicate little kitty after all, so if anyone's gonna break you it should be someone you love unconditionally. right?

kafka -> gatekeep. gaslight. girldaddy. beats you up and makes you say thank you. you're her pet so get used to it, but she'll feed you once in a while so you should be glad, puppy. she's the mean tall girlfriend who babies you and then spits in your mouth for a treat. her & blade treat you like a pet and if she's feeling extra mean she strips you down and makes you kneel between them with nothing to cover yourself. if you're good and give them a lil show they'll let you go early, they promise (lie). humping kafka's pillow to get your scent all over it becomes a nightly ritual to help her sleep, no it is non-negotiable, it is in your spouses' contract that she signed with your hand while you slept. it also states that your face may be used in any and all leisure activities at her discretion--mainly for her to push your head between her legs and lazily give you an order as she sifts through documents. you might be her pet, but that doesn't mean she doesn't love you. at least as far as you can tell.

luocha -> ngl idk that much about him yet but he's immediately unhinged bf-shaped. stupid and drunk on thoughts of you & gives you his credit card details on the first date. he's gross and wants to bite your thighs. begging to be drowned in pussy/choked with cock. you're so pretty and he's so dirty by comparison. he can't blame you for not wanting his gross dick anywhere near you, guess all he can do is eat you out <33 oh noooooo! what a tragedy! sike. he loves that shit. he's got meds to make you squirt too. ik he's not that kinda healer but don't tell me unhinged luocha wouldn't have a ball drugging you both up and taking you for a ride. he wouldn't even know his name once the high dies down, just the feeling of your lips leaving stray kisses all down his face as you try to stay awake.

jing yuan -> daddy 2.0. a dilf with no kids. 1000% goes into husband mode the second you're within reach. chill & soft & uwu until everyone's outta the office, then he becomes a menace to society and your underwear. he cums in them before you leave for the day so you don't forget him <3 you can have a cheeky one in your mouth on his lunch break if you're good. ♀️ he beats your pussy up cock-first for hurting his bbg with your period. he still doesn't get enough of you in the day so he creeps on you at night, rubs one out on your thighs while you sleep and flips over to go right back to snoring afterwards. you can never have too much cum on you--that's his wisdom and as your superior general you should probably believe it, no? don't worry, he can fuck with your job and your life and your friends and your money and your heart until you find it within yourself to agree.

gepard -> dummy boy goody-two-shoes. he likes fuckin in the uniform and being called "captain" i am not taking criticism at this time. dumb little captured stellaron hunter & horny silvermane captain roleplay. moans in your ear during sex. he moans like a girl and he hates it but it's hot and he cums 10x faster if you tell him just how hot it is. he's so big & tall he just makes you feel like a little bunch of grapes when he picks you up, nd he's self-conscious about how weird it is that he likes seeing your face scrunch up in pain when he eases you on his cock but it's just too big. the gravity makes it all feel too much when he sits you on his lap like that but you just wiggle around on it rather than get off, and he's a fiend for it. also consider clean, prim, missionary-lover gepard falling in love with rimming you & feeling like a dirty mutt for enjoying it so much & begging you for it when he's in need. asking him to take a shower with you turns into code for "let's do anal against the tile please" real quick.

[apoptoses]

Armand lived in Venice during the absolute sluttiest period for mens’ clothes and I gotta talk about it.

Anne constantly used Botticelli as a reference for clothes (who was at his peak in the 1470s/1480s) but Armand was in Florence when Savonarola died, which puts him in Venice the late 1490′s. Fashion was moving fast, there was a big moral panic over society falling apart and becoming too secular, and in Venice it was time to let your inner ho out.

The look: Short. Tight. Made of as many expensive scraps as possible.

Let’s get into it.

The words used to describe clothes in TVA have zero basis in reality but were probably chosen because the average reader can picture a tunic easier than they can suss out what a cioppa was. So for quick reference:

Shift: a shirt (made out of linen, unless you want Armand to be the stinkiest boy in Italy. Shirts needed to be white, which meant they were bleached with piss, and ammonia eats away silk. So he could not have worn a silk shirt unless it was never going to be washed and he was happy to run around with pit stains, which would have been horrible). Considered an underwear layer.

Doublet: the renaissance equivalent of your shirt. Wool or silk, either is fine.

Cioppa: a pleated ‘tunic’ worn over your doublet, always sleeveless. Wool or silk.

Gamurra: your coat. Wool or silk.

Hose: pants, always made of wool flannel

So most folks reading probably picture Armand in something like this, ala Botticelli’s time:

Long cioppa, down mid thigh or to the knee, puffy sleeved doublet, not too risque. But this is like 25 years out of date by Armand’s time, and when he goes shopping it’s with a bunch of teenage boys with Daddy’s credit card. Marius, with his ever present Botticelli hard on, might have had them wear this stuff sometimes but this is not what a fashionable boy at the time would go out and buy himself.

Now the dude on the right here:

This is the look.

Doublet? Tight

Cioppa? Short

Ass? Out.

The entire point of the style was to show off your snatched waist and manly thighs and boy did the Venetians do just that.

Also doublets by this period were basically scraps of fabric tied together to show as much shirt as possible. Which was scandalous because your shirt is your underwear, so running around like this was the renaissance equivalent of wearing a sheer shirt with your bright pink bra exposed.

As a little rich boy and Master’s favorite, Armand would have been able to afford the finest linen, so sheer it would have been nearly see-through. Which makes a helluva statement when your doublet was split down the front like this:

His hose would be bias cut wool flannel for maximum stretch and maximum ass sculpting. Until the later 15th century hose were just thigh high stockings, and your doublet had to be long enough to cover your underwear. Now that doublets were being worn cut off at the waist hose had to be joined like modern pants. But how did you keep your junk safely in the trunk?

Enter the pre-cursor to the codpiece, which I mentally refer to as The Dick Flap:

This was a little triangle of fabric, shaped to hold your goods. It tied to the waist at each upper corner. Hose were so tight you couldn’t wear underwear (!) so you just had to tie your flap tight and go about your day. Like the modern zipper, it made for easy access (do with that info what you will)

This was the first time in European history that men just ran around with their full crotch emphasized and on display, so having your doublet so short it just all hangs out was both sexy and shocking to people.

But how did these pants stay up, you wonder?

Your pants would be tied to the hem of your doublet. Which meant that every day, Armand had to have someone lace him into his super tight clothes. I personally headcanon that he and Riccardo helped each other get dressed every day while he was mortal but you can feel your own fantasy on that one.

Another fun trend during the period was having your family emblem or a symbol of your trade embroidered on the sleeve of your gamurra:

Which Marius would have taken full advantage of, and put his fleur de lis in pure gold thread on every gamurra Armand had.

Here’s some more fashion fit pics just for fun:

Fleur de lis branding on the gamurra and the hose? Marius would have been into it.

The tied on sleeves! The shift pulled out of every seam! The renaissance man ass everywhere!

A plump and juicy young man indeed.

Anyways I hope this was useful or inspirational, or at least makes your next reread of the Vampire Armand more fun. Because the clothing descriptions in there don’t even begin to touch the painted on fashion fantasy that was going on in 1490s Venice.

(also if anyone really, really wants to see details on what Armand would have seen when he put on his clothes, I’m making a 1490s fit with all historically correct methods right now and I can post some of that if there’s interest)

[incorrectbatfam]

how would bruce be at the retail jobs?

Previous: Margie | Batfam | Rogues | Justice League | Batkids in training

[clothing store]

Steph: Bruce, you're on menswear. 

Bruce: Yes ma'am. 

Bruce: Need help with anything?

Dick, pulling a shirt off the rack: How does this look? 

Bruce: It's very flattering, chum.

Dick: You think? 'Cause I'm really looking forward to this weekend at Wally's and I wanna impress his folks. 

Bruce: Never mind, it's all wrong. 

———————

[furniture store]

Steph: I'm gonna take inventory. Why don't you help that guy over there?

Bruce: Sure. 

Bruce: You've been looking at that recliner for a long time.

Jason: Yeah, it's pretty nice. 

Bruce: You thinking of buying it?

Jason: Nah, I'll just take my dad's. 

———————

[coffee shop]

Steph: Remember to write their names, especially since it's the morning rush. We don't wanna get the orders mixed up. 

Bruce: Don't worry, I have it all taken care of. 

Tim: One espresso, please. 

Bruce, writing on a cup: You got it. That'll be $3.25.

*5 minutes later*

Bruce: Espresso for Dick– I mean, Jason– I mean, Damian– I mean– oh, you know who you are, get over here. 

———————

[call center] 

Steph: I'm taking a break. Cover for me. 

*phone rings*

Bruce: Wayne Enterprises account support, how can I help you?

Damian: I would like to purchase the Horror and Slasher movie bundle. 

Bruce: Sorry, you have to be at least 18 for that. 

Damian: This is an outrage! Do you know who I am? I am the son of the CEO himself. I demand you put him on the line right now. 

Bruce: As you wish.

Bruce: *spins around in his chair*

Bruce: CEO of Wayne Enterprises here. I'm afraid we can't get that for you. To make up for your troubles, though, I've given you a free trial of our Goodnight Gotham children's bedtime audiobooks. 

———————

[grocery store]

Bruce: That'll be $50.36.

Duke: Shoot, I only brought forty. 

Bruce: Wait, I can give you the friends and family discount. 

Bruce: *swipes his credit card*

Duke: Sweet, thanks!

Bruce: Steph?

Steph: Yeah?

Bruce: Did I just buy my son fifty dollars worth of applesauce? 

———————

[drive-thru]

Cass: Just a water. 

Bruce: Alright, please go to the next window. 

Bruce: *hands her an ice cream cone*

Bruce: You sound like you need this. 

Cass: *smiles*

Steph: How did you—

Bruce: *pulls out his Girl Dad badge*

———————

[restaurant] 

Steph: Here's a menu and your server will be with you shortly. 

Barbara: Thank you. 

Bruce: Good evening. I'll be your server tonight. Have we decided on what we're going with?

Barbara: Yeah, I'll have the chicken. 

Bruce: And would you like a soup or salad with that?

Barbara: Depends. Do you spin the salad in front of me? 

Bruce: Yes. 

Barbara: Then I'll do the soup.

———————

[at home]

Bruce: *face down on his bed*

Steph: Lemme guess, long week? 

Bruce: *grunts* 

Steph: Me too. Hope you don't mind if I take a nap here. 

Steph: *curls up in the blanket*

Bruce: *grunts and pats her head* 

[leiawritesstories]

PROMPT:

leia my love i DARE you

I LEGIT LAUGHED SO HARD MARIA BAHAHA here you go love <3 ;)

word count: 611

warnings: swearing, innuendo, artistic depiction of 🍆

let's add this to the @throneofglassmicrofics March challenge! using the prompts "Accident" and "Chaos" hehe enjoyyyy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Snatching a few seconds to gasp in a breath as the madness of the morning rush died down, Aelin wiped her hands on her apron and brushed loose strands of hair away from her face. She washed her hands quickly and returned to the coffee bar just as Lysandra stuck her head into the back room and hollered for her.

"Calm down, Lyssie!" Aelin yelled back, laughing. "I'm right here."

"Someone asked for you," Lys singsonged, wiggling her brows aggressively.

Aelin rolled her eyes. "You'd think we were fifteen, not twenty-three."

"We're so mature." Lys smirked and bumped her hip into Aelin's. "Now go take your man's order."

Aelin strolled up to the counter, grinning as she met Rowan's bright, amused gaze. "Hey. What can I get you?"

"Well, since you aren't on the menu, I'll take a cappuccino." The slow wink he gave her did bad, bad things to her heartbeat.

She lowered her lashes and peeked up, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth the way she knew drove her boyfriend wild. "I'm all up for grabs at four, you know."

"Oh, I know." He smirked as he pulled his credit card from his wallet. She tapped in his order, and he paid and sauntered down to wait by the pick-up window.

"You should put special art on his cappuccino," Lys said as she finished up the iced lattes she was working on.

"Like a heart? Bitch, please."

"Oh no." Lys's smirk turned positively wicked. "A dick."

"Lysandra Ennar!" Aelin yelped, swatting the brunette with a towel. "What the hell?!"

"Bitch, you know you want to." Lys's eyebrow wiggle returned, even more aggressive than earlier. "You could even draw it to scale."

Aelin laughed so hard she had to brace her hands on the countertop to keep herself upright. "Holy shit, Lys!" She wheezed as she caught her breath. "Alright. Watch this." She sped through the motions of pulling the espresso shot and steaming up some milk, and then she carefully cradled the ceramic cup in her left hand and began pouring the steamed milk with her right.

When the foam rose to the top, she carefully turned the mug, made a sort of sideways heart shape, and dragged the point of the heart downwards. Then she rotated the mug, and, starting from the point of the upside-down heart, poured a careful pattern of foam in a precise, nearly straight line with a slight wobble. She finished off the crown with a little blob, artfully smearing it so it looked like, well...

"Someone's happy to see you," Lys snickered.

Aelin cackled as she set down the cappuccino. "Ro, love, here's your drink." She spun the cup so that the thick, long dick painted in white foam stood erect.

"Thanks, Ae--what the fuck?!" Rowan spluttered, gaping at the drink. His tan face flushed an endearingly bright shade of crimson, his eyes darting rapidly between the dick-uccino and Aelin's bright, wicked grin.

"Not quite large enough for you, love?"

"Aelin," he groaned, dropping his head into his hands and scrubbing at his blushing face. "No, it's the perfect size."

She snickered. "Good to know. I have quite the model." Her gaze flicked south.

He laughed as he grabbed a stir stick and stirred his cappuccino, dissolving her work of art. "Don't think you've heard the last of this, love." Heat simmered in his eyes.

"Is that a promise?"

Rowan's stare, blazingly hot, snapped to hers. "When you're begging me to let you come, love, just remember this--you got me hard in a very public place." He strolled off to a table, leaving her flushed and speechless behind the bar.

Well.

Damn.

~~~

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