#or a body shiftin ghost dog

[ghostbsuter]

Sometimes.

Just sometimes.

Bruce, tired father of too many children, wished for a small break.

Just a tiny one.

He pinched his nose, cowl covering his head and expression and glared.

"I can't believe you snitched on me!" Billy batson, freshly revealed teen and sitting on his usual spot during meetings, hisses.

"If I have to get parented, so do you!" Danny fenton, also freshly revealed teenager, glared right back.

"Boys." Both their attention snapped to wonder woman, still tense and warry.

"Do you two have adult supervision, at least." Batman asks, feeling slightly more drained than before, he can feel Nightwing's stare at the back of his head, coming closer.

"Do the voices count?" Danny asks, to which Billy nodded. "Yeah, do they? Zeus has strong opinions, and many kids. He probably can parent, somewhat."

They shrugged both, like they hadn't just opened another whole can of questions.

"Wait!" Danny snapped his fingers, "what about clocky? He sends us on time missions, has his own lair, and lets us hang around. That counts? Right?"

The other teen nods in agreement.

(Knowing both are black haired and blue-eyed teens, he already knows Dick will never let him live this down. Deceived by children, for YEARS.)

(So much for being the greatest detective.)

(The text he sent to Alfred is between him and his butler dad.)

"Or—"

In the end, the two agreed reluctantly to stay around for a while. The Kents, the Allens, Diana, and the Waynes have opened up their homes to house them permanently.

Much their amusement, they declared, that to make no one jealous, they'd switch homes every other week or so.

That alone smelled like chaos.

Whatever, it was Diana's first week.

(And if the house of mysteries appeared in front of them sometimes, that's also between them and a very suffering John constantine.)

.・゜-: ✧ :-

A continuation

[shadowycupcakewitch]

"Euphoria"

I've decided to try a therapeutic series that is purely self-indulgent, but might resonate with some other peeps. This series is going to be very emotional and highly descriptive. Whilst containing a fair amount of smut, relates more to concepts of intimacy and self-loathing so please proceed at your own risk.

Triggers: 18+, smut, female reader, oral s@x, difficulty w/ orgasm, self-hatred, pic is a mood board only, attempt at Spanglish...

Accepting gentle feedback and requests :) Excited to take this series in an interesting, healing direction...

It had been about a month. You looked in the mirror, pouting as you ran your hands over your body. Failure. A month of sexy-time operations and you felt dry as a bone. Your friends had recommended all the latest literature, toys, lube and more, but the problem was you. You were always the problem. Not your dreamy boyfriend. If anything, he was the bright spot in a dark horizon of frustration. Endlessly patient, supportive and emotionally available, you were starting to wonder what you did to deserve him. Almost on cue, you caught a puppy dog expression nosing his way into the slightly ajar bathroom door.

“Occupied?” he mused, lightly drifting his fingers over your waist and eventually draping himself around you in a bear hug. You continued pouting at your reflection in the mirror. “That’s a lot of heavy sighing for a Saturday” he pondered, setting his chin on your shoulder teasingly.

He broke into a bit of a smirk, poking your rib, “Do we get to continue our weekend explorations? I know what an academic you are, and I’ve been doing some research…”

Your eyebrows raised quizzically as you twisted mid-hug to rest your hands on his chest. “Is there any way to make that NOT sound like porn?” you joked, resting your forehead on his sternum. You heard a soft rumble, breathing in a scent of cologne, nicotine and mint.  “I mean, that’s not the WORST idea I ever heard, but what do I need with porn when I’ve got such a beautiful guinea pig here in my bathroom?” You smiled into his chest, starting to sway together absentmindedly. 

“I know I’m not supposed to be apologizing…” you began, but didn’t get very far, before he gently lifted your chin up, coaxing your eyes to meet his. He ghosted his lips over yours and moved lower to nibbling your chin and dragging his lips over your neck. “Unless you’re sorry for making me miss the new episode of Euphoria, I’m not sure what we’re doing here…” he mumbled into your clavicle.

You gently pulled his face up with both hands to get a better look. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately, it doesn’t have anything to do with you.” He huffed in comical frustration, widening his stance so he could get nose to nose with you, “Nina impaciente…good things cum to those who wait…” You forced a tight lipped smile. 

“Honestly, I know I’ve said so before, but it’s not a race. It’s not like washing the dishes, hermosa.” You snorted into your hands, covering your face with embarrassment.  “Maybe if we took a little break, and just enjoyed ourselves? Movie? Cuddle?” he started swaying again, lulling you into submission. You brightened slightly at the suggestion. His eyes twinkled with recognition, “Snacks?” Sold.

Ten minutes later, you were piled up on the coach, in your pjs, popcorn in hand. “Thank God! I’ve been thinking about Euphoria for like a WEEK!” Pedro teased, as you tossed a handful of popcorn at his face. Somehow this man was forcing you to relax despite your own insecurities. How did he do that? You settled your feet on his lap, as he immediately began a gentle massage. “Let the suffering BEGIN!” he noted, grabbing the remote, eyes alight with interest. Your mouth began to twist in amusement at his golden retriever-like optimism. The lights of the tv flashed across his attentive expression. Such a nice profile, and his shoulders were so ridiculously broad. You felt a light throbbing as your womanhood tried to communicate through Morris Code. Shifting under the blankets, you pinched your legs together in protestation. 

“You okay over there?” a voice interrupted, now moving his thumb up your leg and resting on your thigh. “Just getting comfortable” you squeaked, confused at your body’s unpredictable reactions. The two of you had all but conjured spells and incantations to reach your now elusive climax, but that didn’t seem to dim your desire or confusion. “Why does she insist on TORTURING herself???” Pedro now exclaimed, throwing a gummy bear at the tv.

Why did she? Why does she? Your lower lip began to tremble involuntarily. It’s my body. Why can’t I force it into submission? Why is it so hard to surrender? A big fat, salty tear dripped down your face, now buttering your popcorn.

“Hey, hey…what’s happening over there? The episode hasn’t even started yet…” Pedro’s eyebrows wrinkled in concern as he reached over to catch the newly falling cascade. It was all too much, as your face distorted in pain, amid squeaks and sniffles. Cupping your face with both hands he pleaded quietly, “Please let me help, hermosa…” grabbing your waist and pulling your hiccuping body close to his. “Can we try things my way, please?” His weight was comfortingly boxing you in and anchoring you down. “I know you want to be a ‘wham bam thank you ma’am' kind of gal, but some of us need a little more coaxing…” he joked as you dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“I just don’t know what’s wrong with me” you acquiesced. 

“There’s nothing wrong with you. What we’re looking for is a different kind of ‘Euphoria’” he chided. Then, honest to God, the man booped you on the nose with his. Reaching over for the remote he silenced the tv, and interlacing his hand in yours, he locked eyes with you, slowly drawing you into the bedroom. “It’s time to take our time”.

This euphoric evening was eventually termed, “The Great Awakening” but it didn’t start out that way. As he seductively removed your oversized sweater you stood slightly shivering, awkwardly covering your breasts.

“Your audience is requesting more VIP access” he teased, dragging his fingers over your collarbone and down your sternum. Rolling your eyes comically you helped pull his white t-shirt up and over his head, revealing his smooth, honeyed skin. Moving his hands lower he pulled at your sweat pants to reveal a red lace thong you had desperately purchased at Victoria’s Secret. His mouth went slack in surprise. “What do we have here?” he rasped, cupping the orbs of your ass and bringing your hips dangerously close to his steadily hardening self.

“Clothes make the woman?” you sniffled, sighing heavily into his chest and resuming your characteristic couple’s sway.

“This time, a LACK of clothes may make the woman…” he joked, wrapping his arm around your waist and taking your hand in his. You felt yourself melt into his body as you swayed in a slow dance at the foot of the bed. Reaching down, you attempted to finger his boxer shorts, but he deftly maneuvered out of the way.

“No hermosa, we’re doing you this evening…all evening.” he whispered, now inches from your ear. Shuddering in his embrace, you tried to slow your breathing, closing your eyes. 

“That’s it…No more racing to the finish line, let the pleasuring begin…” he growled, setting you down on the bed and stroking one finger from the top of your forehead to the soft flesh of your inner thigh, where he started lightly kneading in circles. A shaky breath brought another shudder to your body as he began kissing your knees, thighs, hips and stomach. Drawing your hands above your head, he gently pinned you to the mattress, moving his knee just below your crotch. “I’m going to kiss you now, for an impossibly long time, so get a big breath…” he smiled, and before you could chuckle, he did just that. Tongue. Teeth. Lips. Warmth. Honeyed sweetness and moaning breaths. It was the exposition to a beautiful poem, tumbling verse upon verse. Interlocking lips, stuttering sighs, quick intake of air and hands, hands, hands. Hands everywhere, dripping down your side, feather light touch to your face. Palming your stomach and thumbing your belly button.

Your entire body bucked underneath him as you felt pools of desire gravitate downward. You gasped into his mouth as he massaged your breasts, pinching both nipples in a firm tease. He started licking into your mouth, coaxing moan after moan as you began to lose yourself in the rhythm. White noise. White hot. Searing white heat, as your mind went blank and your body writhed in ecstasy. You mewled like a child as his hands and mouth intentionally moved south, nibbling at your tits and sucking a quick trail from your sternum to your navel. 

Heavy lidded eyes flew open in confused distress as you propped yourself up on your forearms, “Wait, I’m not ready down there! She’s not…uh….trim…” you sputtered, trying to form a coherent sentence. It was nearly comical catching him with tongue poised and eyes wide as saucers. Quickly catching his breath he teased, “The best part of a treasure hunt is when sex marks the spot…”. Eyeing him with incredulity you were about to offer a quick retort until he licked a long stripe from the base of your fourchette all the way up to your clit…and you were gone. 

@talaok @undercoverpena @pedrorascal @bluebeary-jay @lokischocolatefountain @cavillscurls @javiscigarette @pedrostories @punkshort