Cas

21 years old She/Her Blog should be considered 18+ due to reblogs Second account for writing: @cassiecaswrites

[lanadelreyylover]

Born Again

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Reader Rating: Explicit Summary: Your past sexual experiences have been unsavory, to say the least, and without anyone to change your mind, you have long decided that sex is terrible. That is, until you let your very convincing boyfriend try to change your mind. Word Count: 2.3k

based on this request

You remember the first time you thought about sex–like really, truly pondered the act. Twelve years old, bored to the marrow in your bones listening to Mrs. Wilson drone on and on about some cliff-notes interpretation of Hamlet’s soliloquy. 

As though the flesh constructed in the four corners of your mind was tangible, you could feel the phantom touch of a man on your skin. His lips on yours. His fingertips grazing your bare body from breast to core. Twelve years old and the floodgates broke open. It crept into your waking thought at least once a day, every day since then. 

You watched porn, read the naughty books tucked away in the outermost aisle of the grocery store. Spent hours in the mirror practicing a seductive mug you’d pull out when the time was right. Humped your pillow to perfect your rhythm. Made out with your fist. Deepthroated a banana. You studied it.

So of course sex had to be great. It just had to be. For you. 

You had been obsessed with it since you first saw your favorite actor on the silver screen, and he played a recurring role in your hypnagogic fantasies. Missionary, cowgirl, doggy, all the numbers to infinity and every letter in the alphabet. 

It had to be. 

And then it wasn’t. 

The first time was mediocre. But then again, isn’t it for everyone? Perhaps you couldn’t judge the very thing that has kept humans on this earth for six million years based on ten awkward seconds on an air mattress in someone’s dad’s basement with who knows what species of rat sneaking behind the moldy walls.

The second time was alright. You were just getting used to the feeling of someone being inside you, and the fact that it happened in a hot tub, jets blowing bubbles up your ass cheeks while a man’s unlubricated fingers poked and prodded at you, didn’t help. 

The third time was terrible. A balcony on a hot, summer night beneath an endless southern sun. Why did you keep choosing the worst places on earth to fuck? That one was on you. Mosquito wings in places no insect should ever be. And an ant bite on your ankle. No thanks. 

Fourth, fifth, sixth. One man. A different man. The same man who couldn’t get it up the first time but he begged for a second chance. An older man. A younger man. Two men? Hotel, bar, living room, car. Your sexual past was beginning to sound like Dr. Seuss slam poetry. 

Scratch. Veto. Eehhh. 

“It’s not you,” you promise sweetly, looking up at Leon. His wide, puppy-dog eyes hold blown pupils and oceanic irises that could stop a blind man in his tracks. You were completely starstruck when you saw him for the first time, shaggy blonde hair and lines carved by Michaelangelo himself. 

“Don’t give me the whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ thing, alright? If you’re not interested, just put me out of my misery.” He sighs, gaze faulting to the floor between his feet, shoulders falling in defeat. 

You place a hand on his back, pivoting your hips on the sofa cushion to turn toward him. 

“Leon, no,” you croon, garnering his attention once more. He glances up and to the side, meeting your eyeline. “I am so interested. Like really, really interested.” 

The hottest man you’ve ever seen grace the planet was sitting in your living room, not even a foot away. And you were touching him!

Of course you were interested. 

“Really?” He asks, lifting his dark brows, as though he can’t believe that a woman would be interested in pursuing something deeper with him. 

‘Really.” Releasing your bottom lip from its prison between your teeth, you cut the bullshit, and ignore the ferocious flush rising to your cheeks. “It’s just that, I’ve had some really unsavory experiences in the past, and what you and I have now is so perfect. I don’t want to…I don’t know? Mess it up?” 

He blinks hard, and you could hit yourself for doing the very thing you were afraid of. 

“Gosh, that sounded bad. I don’t know how to explain it any better. I’m sorry if I offended you, I just…geez.” 

The two of you chuckle at your idiotic rambling, and you take another jab at trying to explain yourself. “Sex just hasn’t been great for me, no matter who I do it with or what we do. It’s just…bad. And every time I’ve made that leap with partners in the past, it ends up souring things between us. I really like you, Leon, and I don’t want to risk that. Not yet.” 

He raises a hand to cup your cheek, steadying your trembling chin. “Hey,” he coos. “Look at me.” How could you pass up an opportunity like that? The look in his eyes is tender and sweet, and the corner of his lips perks up into a half-smile. “I like you too. A lot. And as much as I’d love to take the next step with you, I understand.” He flexes his jaw and tears his gaze away from you for a moment before letting it return. “Although I’d really like to show you how good sex can be…with the right person.” 

You scoff, incredulous, though you wish you could stuff the sound back in your mouth and swallow it. To rectify the gesture, you arch a brow and smile. “Are you the right person, Leon?” 

He huffs a breathy sound through a big, pearly smile. “I like to think so. Will you let me? Show you?” 

Will you? Let him? Are you ready to be disappointed once again? To let your hopes fly high like a kite, only to be shot down once more? 

With Leon, yes. 

“Yes,” you say, the word more like a sigh on your tongue. 

“Lead the way.” 

Your bedroom is shrouded in shadows, only illuminated by the orange gleam of the street below as the rain-mottled window lets in the light from passing cars and the streetlamps that line the avenue. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, cupping your face, as if that isn’t exactly what the two of you had been doing all evening. You nod anyway, and his lips return to yours, meeting in a marriage of plump skin and tooth. He tastes like the bourbon he had at dinner, the mint he popped in his mouth after. Cinnamon and spice. 

He’s an amazing kisser, knowing exactly when to invite his tongue, where to swirl it around, when to bite and nibble, and how to touch your body as he does it. 

His hands find your waist, fingers splayed across your ribs like digits on the keys of a piano. Just the touch is enough to send electric eels coursing through your veins, shocks radiating from limb to limb. 

You can already feel a gush of arousal pool on the crotch of your panties, and your stomach feels hot with anticipation. 

“Still okay?” He asks, pulling away to tug at the hem of your shirt. 

“Still okay,” you repeat, helping him peel off each article of clothing keeping your body from him. Once you’re completely bare and reclined on the mattress, he remains standing above you, starting with his shirt. 

You watch intently as he gingerly unlatches the buttons, slowly revealing more and more skin, beautiful in its pale translucence. Taut muscles tense and release beneath it as he pulls the sleeves off his arms. Although you had already gotten a sneak peek at his biceps when he wore a short-sleeve tee, it’s as though you’re seeing them for the first time. Bulging balls of muscle. Virile veins. You salivate like a dog sitting for a bone, and your teeth ache, longing to bite. 

Next, his belt. The metal of the buckle clinks in the near-silence of the room, followed by the sound of zipper teeth being pulled apart. You swallow hard as he hooks his fingers under the band of his briefs, shoving them, along with his dress pants, down his thighs, fully revealing himself to you. 

You bite your lip to keep your jaw from dropping at the sight of his cock. The prettiest one you’ve ever seen. A perfect ratio of length to girth, a head already weeping with lubrication. A thick vein trailing up the shaft. 

He climbs onto bed with you, kissing the curve of your neck, trailing wet lips down to your breasts. His fingers play with one of your nipples while his teeth nibble gingerly at the other. You hiss, back arching off the mattress as a wave of pleasure rolls from your chest to your core. An itching sensation follows, and if you weren’t planning on letting him take his time, you’d beg the man to enter you right now. 

The point of his tongue flicks across the hardening bud of one breast as his hand palms the fat of the other, kneading the flesh. Mouth still latched onto your nipple, he moans, and the vibration elicits an embarrassing sound from your throat. It seems to goad him on even more, and he treks down your abdomen, planting chaste kisses down the line of your stomach, on the bones of your hips. 

Then, he presses your legs apart, hands wrapped around your waist as he dives into your pussy. Without any warning, he begins to devour you as though you’re the manna welcoming him after forty years in the desert. His tongue alternates between heavy, flat laps from seam to clit, and pointed licks that draw long lines up and down your inner lips, hitting either side of your throbbing bud. 

You mewl and yelp and whine. Fingers find his hair and tug. The muscles in your abdomen contract uncontrollably, and the sensation you have only ever felt when you are resigned to your room, alone except for the company of a battery-operated device, begins to grow inside you. 

He adds two fingers, stretching your hole, crooking them until you whimper and he knows he has found your sweet spot. 

It doesn’t take long for your climax to wash over you–no, this one hits you like a truck and backs up over your limb body for good measure. He doesn’t stop eating, even after you finish all over his face. Not until you physically push him off of you, too sensitive and sore to manage another touch. 

A grin appears on his face, and this is the most smug you’ve ever seen him look. You weren’t even sure you’d seen him so happy before. 

He wipes your juices off his chin and mouth with the back of his hand, rising to his knees before he comes onto his fists and crawls up your body to plant a wet kiss on your lips, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“You sure?”

As if he didn’t just give you the best orgasm of your life. Did he think you’d want to stop there?

“I’m sure, Leon,” you say in a gasping breath.

Still between your legs, kneeling, Leon nods, the gesture punctuated by a slight chuckle as he takes himself into his palm, pumping his cock to its full stiffness. 

His forearms bracket your head, one leaving for just a moment, maneuvering between your bodies to help glide the head of his cock into your dripping pussy. The stretch is delicious, and leaves you craving more. 

“‘S this okay?” 

Like it’s your first time. Maybe it is. 

“Very.” 

And he slides the rest of his length into you, his face contorting, head falling into the crook of your neck. A long, heaving growl leaves his chest, and for a moment, you’re not sure who is experiencing the most ecstasy. You or the man who is whimpering like a puppy above you. 

“Move, please,” you plea, hands coming to either of his cheeks as if to manually thrust his hips into you. He begins on his own, however, and you drink up the strangled noises he sings into your ear. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight, holy shit.” His voice is weak, breath hitched. “I’m not gonna last.” 

“Harder,” you cry out, wanting more of him. You’re not sure exactly what you need, you just need more of his cock inside you, his hands all over your body, his groans loud, and his breath hot at your neck. 

Faster. Harder. More, more, more. 

“Harder?” He asks in confirmation, the heads of his brows cinched. “I don’t know if I can–fuck–last if I go harder.” 

“I don’t care,” you sigh, holding his sweaty face in your hands. 

“Okay, shit, hold on.” He adjusts your body on the mattress, removing your legs from his waist, pressing your knees into your chest. As he pounds into you, his shaft rubbing against your front wall, and the new angle has you crying out for every name in your contacts. 

“I’m gonna come,” he groans, palms still digging into the backs of your thighs. “Fuck, fuck. I’m coming. Shit.”

After a few more seconds, a second orgasm shatters your body into a million shooting stars, and you clench around him in a staccato rhythm, practically milking him dry as he finishes inside. Aftershocks flicker like live wires through your body, starting in your toes, traveling up and down your legs, your arms. 

Leon collapses onto the bed beside you, his chest coated in a sweet film of sweat that catches the light with each labored breath he takes. 

When you trust that your voice won’t crack like a split log when you speak, words you never thought you’d say in a situation like this leave your lips. 

“Can we do that again?”

taglist: @cakeofhorrors @rainyxie

[onlyasteelmancanbealover]

can you do a fic where reader works at the planet and she’s a formula one reporter so she knows a lot about the sport and one day clark asks her out and he asks her one question about the sport and spends most the date rambling about f1 and he’s just impressed at how much she knows?

this one was a little intimidating i won’t lie bc i know absolutely nothing about f1 but i thought maybe if i did a blurb i could make up for it… i think it came out really sweet. i hope you enjoy !!! forgive me for having lamer hobbies than than you f1 fans HEHE. oh and peep the ryan cameo :') giving him a second life

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Fast Wins

clark kent x fem!F1reporter!reader drabble

WC: approx 1k | AO3

Contains: fluff, flirting, first date, f1 lingo!

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“So, what exactly is the reason that they have to change the tires so often?”

“Oh! That one’s easy. It’s because the rubber needs to be a certain softness so it'll have maximum grip and traction the road, but because of that texture it breaks down pretty quickly, usually around ten or fifteen laps, and so they can only give the tires so much time before it becomes dangerous and they have to switch them out.”

“But why do they have to do it within seconds?”

“Fast wins,” you smirked.

Clark wondered if driving a racecar would give him the same stomach-dropping feeling and talking with you did. He highly doubted it. Not even flying made him feel this weightless.

This date was a shock, even to him, and he was the one who set it up. You were so beyond his league it was embarrassing, and that’s including his secret double-identity. Perry had opened up a special spot for you at the Planet to be a Formula One reporter on retainer; with the sport’s ever-growing fanbase, citizens wanted the best news, and Metropolis’ popularity and involvement was on the rise now that they had a homegrown driver on the Haas team. You were a freelancer for a while, slumming it with the pit crews and any managers that would take you across the world on the basis you’d cover their guys, but when Perry offered you a steady job with a fund to bring you to every race with a team and a stake in the actual coverage of your own team, you took it. 

You came into work every day in a leather café racer and jeans, and somehow looked more professional (and certainly cooler) than anybody in the entire building. You knew carspeak, you knew cultures, and your stories came back with zero red pen from the chief, which created you quite a reputation. You were confident and immovable, suave and charming. You had the it factor, to say the least– that quality that made people see you and your job, and think, Yeah, that’s right. Clark, on the other hand, counted himself lucky if he could still see a word or two under the red ink on his articles. Clark usually spilled coffee on his shirt and stumbled his way through interviews. In all universes, he would not be close to your type, or your standards. But he had beat the odds somehow.

He had been pining after you for a few weeks– since you started, really– before Perry put him and Jimmy on your reporting team for a race. He was supposed to fly out to Las Vegas for the Grand Prix and help you cover the Haas team and their Metropolis-born driver, Ryan James. Clark, who usually never did a travel piece, went for the kid– he saved his hide a few times, back in the day– and for you. You were just so enigmatic, always asking the right questions, smiling, flipping your hair, making him feel stupid. He couldn’t get enough of you. And despite Jimmy’s jabs, you seemed to like him! You teased and prodded, and you gave him the pen holding your hair up when he fumbled his and lost it down a grate at the track. You even blushed when he stuttered a Thank you, and to him, that was cause enough to try. Foolish, he knew, but he had to believe in something. 

He asked you out as you were boarding the plane home. It was sort of an accident, actually. You were in front of him, struggling to shove your luggage into the overheard compartment, and he happily hoisted it up with one hand. You smirked and asked, “Got some muscle under that big suit, huh, Kent?”

He shrugged and nudged his glasses up. “Guess so.”

“Well, good for you,” you chuckled, sliding into the row of seats. Clark took the middle and Jimmy took the end, who was trying to hide his expression of amusement, as well as his anticipation of Clark making a usual fool of himself. 

“Your article is great,” Clark complimented, “Perry will love it.”

“Thanks. That means a lot, you know.”

“Sure,” he hummed, scratching his neck. “You know, maybe we could celebrate when we get back.” By this he meant bring everyone out, get a round, cheers to your Grand Prix break. But your eyes sparkled in a way he hadn’t seen before, and for a second he wondered if the plane was taking off, or if that was just him.

“Like a date?”

Clark nearly choked on his own spit. “I– well– you– um– if–”

You bloomed a springtime shade and tilted your head. “I’d really like that, actually. You’ll take me out, won’t you?”

Clark’s lips turned up. Always asking the right questions, he thought. “Y-yeah. Um, yeah, sure, I’ll… take you out. When we get to Metropolis.”

“Good.”

And so he did, and here you were. He was sure it was a fluke, and maybe he’d knock something over or say something dumb and lose it all by the end of the night. But for now, you seemed entertained enough answering all his beginner-level questions about Formula One. He inquired after the creation of the car bodies, what alterations must be made, why are they so low to the ground, how are even they safe. He asked you about the physical condition of the drivers, how it’s possible they can drive so long and not pass out or get dizzy. You indulged him all night, chewing on the straw in your margarita and smiling like front-page news.

“I didn’t know you were so curious about racing,” you grinned, nails tapping the table. 

Clark stared at them and shrugged. “I didn’t used to be.”

“Until you met me, you mean,” you pushed, and turned your palm up. 

Confident, he reminded himself, and when you wiggled your fingers as if to hurry him along, he recalled, and immovable. He slipped his palm into yours and squeezed. 

“Until I met you.”

“You’re cute, Kent,” you blushed, playing with his paw. “I might even let you take me on a second date. If you can keep up, that is. Racing’s a little fast.”

At that, Clark quirked a hopeful brow. If only you knew how fast he could go. Fast wins.

[spin-the-wheel-polls]

You've been turned into a mythical creature, spin the wheel to see which one!

Are you happy with it?

^^^^^^

https://wheelofnames.com/5k9-xsu

Are you happy with it?

yes!! I love it

yes!

It's okay I guess

no

NO.

results/other

Remaining time: 8 hours 53 minutes

(if you don't consider some of these mythical creatures please don't come for me)

[cassiecasluciluce]

[mentally-homeless]

[the-spoopy-ghost-of-raejin99]

Obligatory

[urluviskillingme]

damian wayne x fem!reader (college age)

Damian Wayne who paints your nails if you ask. He has a steady hand from years of training and his experience as an artist, maybe adding small designs. You could possibly even convince him to let you paint his in return (matching colour, of course).

Damian Wayne who uses you to help study for classes. He steals your liquid eyeliner to write the names of body parts on your skin in his neat, curled handwriting. Helps wash it all off afterwards, too.

Damian Wayne who, when you can't come, spends half his time at "important" gala's tucked away in a corner, still on his first glass of champagne, texting you.

Damian Wayne who doesn't talk to you like you're an idiot. His voice will go just that little bit softer, and he'll slow down and lower the volume, but only so as to know that you're the only one listening.

Damian Wayne who leans down until his ear is level with your lips when he's stood behind you and you're talking to him. He's not necessarily holding onto you or stood with his arms around your waist. But you can feel the heat radiating off him on your back and you can feel the slight tickle of his hair on your temple.

Damian Wayne who holds eye contact even when you can't.

Damian Wayne who knows when something is wrong before you can even tell him, or when you don't want to tell him. Sometimes even before you know there's something wrong

[ciricearts]

omg the ttk guy!!

[cassiecasluciluce]

MY BOY

[capricornluna-deactivated201810]

this blog hates donald trump

[pearlmarley]

Look how many people hate him. I’m pretty damn happy about that 😁😁😁😁😁😁

[brinawing]

in life and in death

dick grayson x reader fluff, slice of life, suggestive :P

Dick Grayson was a very particular man. He had a routine that he followed –which included going for regular weekly brunches at the manor. He drove for two hours every Sunday with you to see his family.

This time however, the brunch was shifted to a Thursday because Bruce had people coming in for a meeting and he wanted the whole family to be present. Naturally you couldn’t go with Dick because you had work.

Dick woke up before his alarm even went off due to the chill morning air hitting his bare body. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and glanced at the lack of blankets covering him. Thanks to his girlfriend who always ran cold.

You clung to Dick at night when you went to sleep because he was basically a human furnace with how warm he was but each morning you drifted away from him and hogged the blankets in a deathly grip where he couldn’t reach. Which caused him to wake up.

Yet he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

He turned sideways to look at your sleeping frame. Your hair sprawled all over your pillow with a small pout prominent on your lips as you stayed cocooned in the warm blankets.

Dick smiled gently and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead before getting out of bed. He turned his alarm off to let you sleep in for a bit because yours was set thirty minutes after his.

He stretched his body and cracked a few joints before making his way towards the bathroom. He splashed cold water on his face to wake him up before grabbing his electric toothbrush from the little Batman and Robin holder you had gotten as a joke.

He smiled at the memory as he mindlessly brushed his teeth, mind drifting back to you like it always did. Dick’s wildest fantasy involved you two quitting your jobs so you could stay in bed forever cuddling and having endless sex. He pictured your giggly face last night as he moved inside you, a matching look of giddiness on his face due to the wine you two had.

His eyes landed on the single love bite you had left just below his collarbone as payback for the twenty he left littered across your chest.

He had half a mind to cancel on Bruce but he was a man of his word so he spit the toothpaste out and hopped into the shower.

Twenty minutes later as Dick was standing in front of the sink in just a towel wrapped around his waist, he heard the bathroom door open as you strolled inside in one of his t shirts.

He gave you a quick peck on the forehead and you nudged him aside to grab your toothbrush. Dick had just been applying hair gel in his hair when your eyes met his through the mirror.

You began lazily brushing your teeth when Dick chuckled fondly at your puffy face. He picked up the hairdryer next and began styling his hair like he usually did each morning.

“You still had fifteen more minutes baby, why are you up?” Dick asked gently, afraid to disrupt the morning quiet.

You spit your toothpaste out before glaring at him through the mirror. “Someone left the bed and I was cold.”

“Oh you were cold?” Dick challenged and poked the side of your stomach, causing you to yelp. “You stole all the blankets you little thief.”

“I did not!” You protested.

“Yes you did and you rolled away from me I couldn’t even hold you,” he huffed dramatically as he continued fixing his hair.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised through mouthful of toothpaste, suddenly feeling bad for your boyfriend who was probably cold the whole night.

“It’s fine pretty. No need to apologise,” Dick smiled and wrapped his left arm around your stomach, resting his chin on your head.

You gave him a crooked smile before leaning down to spit the toothpaste out and rinse your mouth before finally turning around to look at your boyfriend.

“Hi,” you smiled, grabbing his face.

“Hello,” Dick chirped.

“Don’t you look dashing,” you commented, rubbing your palms over the coarse hair on his face.

“Well thank you m’lady,” he grinned and finally connected your lips.

“Dick that tickles!” You giggled, pushing him away. “Shave your beard.”

“I’ll do it tomorrow, I’m not going to work today,” Dick simply shrugged and grabbed the hair dryer again.

“You are going to Wayne Enterprises though,” you frowned, rubbing your palms over his face again.

“Baby it’s fine, Tim the CEO has to worry about that not me,” he gave you a quick peck on the cheek.

“You’re Bruce’s son too, you should look put together not like a rockstar who doesn’t know what a shower is.”

“What?” Dick snickered.

“I’m serious!”

“Just say you hate it.”

“I don’t hate it,” you replied. “I just don’t like it a lot.”

“Wow,” Dick muttered.

“Let me do it,” you offered, hopping on the counter.

“Yeah right,” Dick scoffed.

“Please!” You protested. “I shave my legs I know how to do it.”

“I think my face is a bit different than your legs angel, I do love them a lot don’t get me wrong,” as if to prove his point, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your bare thigh before resting his hand there.

“Dick!” You whined.

“No,” he said firmly.

You huffed and grabbed the shaving can from the sink along with his razor before spraying the shaving cream onto your fingers. You grabbed his wrist next and rubbed the cream over the hairy skin and before he could say anything, you swiped the razor across it.

“See?” You beamed up at him as you continued shaving the cream off his wrist.

Dick chewed on his bottom lip for a couple of seconds before finally rolling his eyes.

“Fine,” he sighed, slotting his hips between your thighs.

“Yay!” You cheered and clapped your hands, momentarily forgetting that the razor was in your hand with the plastic cap off and you were waving it in front of Dick’s eye.

“Yeah nevermind,” he said and began pulling away but you tightened your thighs around his waist.

“Sorry!” You said quickly.

“If I die, just know that I loved you dearly and I leave my motorcycle to Jason.”

“And nothing for me?” You dramatically gasped.

“I’m not dying alone am I? In life and death and all that?”

“Thats in sickness and in health you dork and we’re not married,” you pointed out.

“Yet,” Dick reiterated, planting a kiss on your nose.

“Enough stalling Nightwing,” you narrowed your eyes at him before grabbing the shaving can.

You shook it for a second before spraying a good amount on your palm before rubbing it across Dick’s bearded face. He closed his eyes and hummed lowly as he felt your soft hands rub against his coarse skin.

You put your thumb on his chin to tilt his head back carefully as you began gliding the razor across his skin. You worked in silence for a good few minutes in complete concentration with your eyebrows furrowed and your tongue peeking out from between your lips.

Dick smiled at the sight as his hands came to rest on your waist. He earned a harsh “shh! don’t move” from you when you felt his cheeks move due to his smile.

You worked your way up his throat towards the easier part of the face which were his cheeks. When you finally got to his cupid’s bow, you sat up straight and grabbed his face in your hands almost knocking your forehead against his with how close you were but you managed to gently glide the razor against his moustache.

Dick had to tap your waist once to make you stop long enough for him to press a kiss to your forehead, causing some shaving cream to linger before he asked you to continue.

You shook your head lightly at him but the smile breaking out on your face was enough to show him that you weren’t actually irritated by his antics.

Few more quick yet careful swipes of razor across his face and he was done, looking fresh with a clean shaven face.

He tapped your thigh to get out of the grip you had on his hips and washed his face with water to get rid of any remaining cream on his face. You watched him intently as he grabbed the razor from your hand and made a quick swipe across the corner of his mouth to get the patch of hair you had missed.

He washed the razor under the sink and wiped his face with a towel and before he even had the chance to put the towel back, you pulled him back between your thighs with your elbows resting on his shoulders.

“Hello handsome,” you grinned and touched your cheek to his.

“Wow,” Dick mused. “You really hate my beard huh?”

“I just like seeing your whole face,” you replied and before he could utter another word, you cupped his face in your hands and began pecking his face, causing him to let out a laugh.

“Okay!” Dick protested but you didn’t relent as your lips reached his adam’s apple. “If you keep this up I’ll cancel my meeting and you’ll have to miss work because I’ll keep you in bed all day.”

“Sorry,” you apologised, planting one last kiss on his nose. “I forgot it’s a crime to love on your boyfriend. You should punish me Nightwing,” you finished, giving him a playful smirk.

Dick closed his eyes for a beat and sucked in a harsh breath before he leaned forward to connect your lips in a searing kiss that lasted only for a beat.

“I’m calling Bruce, he doesn’t need me that bad,” he murmured against your lips.

You giggled and tugged at his styled hair to push him off you. “Go, I made coffee.”

“M’kay,” Dick hummed, pressing another kiss to your mouth before he helped you hop off the counter. “I’ll make you some toast before leaving and don’t forget your vitamins.”

“Yes daddy!” You said with a dramatic salute.

“Oh you’re done now,” Dick warned before lunging towards you.

You yelped as he scooped you up in his arms and turned around to go to the bedroom. He fell backwards on the bed with you still in his hold.

“Dick!” You giggled as you tried to wiggle out of his iron grip.

He flipped you two over with practiced ease, causing you to lie flat on your back under him. You smiled up at him when his fingers came down to your face to brush your hair away so he could see your face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.

“You say that every day,” you scrunched your nose as a wave of shyness washed over you.

“You look pretty every day,” he simply shrugged.

“Stop!” You whined playfully before covering your face with your hands. “I haven’t even washed my face yet it’s puffy and dry.”

“Look at me,” Dick urged and pried your fingers away from your face, pinning both of your hands in his over your head.

You pouted in response when he managed to make you look at him.

“I love you and your puffy face,” he smiled and leaned down enough so your noses were touching but he didn’t kiss you yet. “And your perfect tits,” he murmured and finally kissed you.

You giggled against his mouth as he brought his free hand to your chest to really send his message.

No matter how many years you and Dick spent together and how many ways he fucked you, he still managed to make you blush with one simple look. His blue eyes always looked at you with so much love and relief especially in mornings when he could just be Dick Grayson and stay in bed with you. When he didn’t have to put on a mask.

His tongue glided against your bottom lip before let his teeth bite lightly at your mouth, causing you to moan and squirm in his hold. His hips came down to hold you still and you realised your panties and Dick’s towel were the only things separating you both.

He pulled away and trailed his lips down to your jaw, slowly kissing over the marks he left last night as if to revisit them. Your shirt was swiftly pulled over your head by the hem as Dick sat back on his knees to admire your bare body and when a smirk appeared on his lips, you knew he was feeling proud of the love bites and hickeys he left all over and below your chest.

Before Dick could attach his mouth to your breasts, his phone began ringing but he didn’t budge as he began planting hot open mouthed kisses between the valley of your breasts.

“Dick your phone,” you panted.

“Leave it,” he mumbled.

“It could be important,” you reasoned but your fingers tangled themselves in his silky black hair.

“It’s not,” he replied.

A few seconds later his phone finally stopped ringing but Dick’s movements didn’t relent. He kissed a path down to the waistband of your flimsy panties and when he pulled them up by his teeth, the ringing came again.

“Dick!” You said, louder this time and pushed him away to grab his phone from the nightstand. “It’s Jason,” you informed him but he shook his head and continued planting kisses on your thighs.

You rolled your eyes and picked up the call, bringing the phone to your ear. “Hey Jason.”

“Oh hey,” Jason said your name so casually like you picking up Dick’s phone was normal for him. “Just wanted to check in and see Dick is coming to the meeting right?”

“Yeah he is,” you said the same time Dick yelled “No he’s not!”

“Ignore him, he is,” you huffed and tried pushing Dick away again but he didn’t move, still holding on to your calves as he planted stray kisses to your thighs and knees.

“Dude,” Jason said and you put the phone on speaker.

“What?” Dick sighed.

“You’re coming or I’m not going either and then Tim won’t go,” Jason added.

“Fine,” Dick groaned. “I’m leaving in a bit.”

“Good,” Jason replied.

“You just cockblocked me by the way.”

Jason snickered in response before hanging up.

Dick reached for you again but this time you were quicker than him. You stood up from the bed and ran towards the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

“Seriously?” Dick groaned. “Not even a bye kiss?”

You ducked your head out of the bathroom door and gestured for him to come closer with your finger which he obliged and within seconds, he was in front of you.

You quickly gave him a peck and before he could deepen the kiss, you pulled away.

“Bye! Good luck!” You beamed, shutting the door again.

one of my favs ive written so far which was also inspired by a harry fic i read back in like 2019 soo if i find it again i’ll tag it!

likes comments and reblogs appreciated, hope you enjoy <3

[patientofarkhamasylum]

buffering dick grayson x reader | fluff, suggestive

summary: aftercare with dick after a long night that leaves you a little out of it and him very smug (wc: 0.9k).

Dick says something, and you know this because his mouth moves, sound comes out, and he's looking at you with that patient little tilt of his head. The words themselves, however, fail to make it through the pleasant static filling your skull.

"Hm?" you manage.

"Do you want water?"

You blink at him. This time, the question filters through the haze in scrambled pieces, but you decide you’ve got the general idea and answer with complete sincerity.

"Tomorrow."

There’s a beat of silence, and Dick goes very still.

You frown. Something about his expression isn't right. He's staring at you with his mouth pressed shut and eyes wide, like he's holding something in. You can't figure out what, because your brain is still running at half speed and—

Dick breaks. He folds forward laughing, one hand braced on the mattress, the other covering his mouth, trying and failing to be kind about this. His shoulders shake helplessly, head dropping as the sound spills out of him bright and full and impossible not to love.

Then it clicks.

Oh no.

"No, because I meant yes," you say quickly. "I meant yes now. Right now."

"Right now?" he asks. "You sure? Don't want to sleep on it?"

“Stop,” you groan, covering your face with your hands.

He’s still laughing when he gently pulls them away, eyes shining.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says. “I’m never letting that go.”

"That was a vulnerable moment for me."

"It was a historic moment for me."

You glare at him, but it isn't as intimidating as you think, because his grin only sharpens.

"Okay, okay," he says, holding up three fingers. "How many?"

You stare at him. "You're not serious."

"I asked you a yes or no question and you said tomorrow. I'm doing my due diligence.”

"Three, you absolute—"

"Good. What's your name?"

You tell him, flatly.

"What year is it?"

"The year I become single if you keep this up."

He ignores that completely. "Who's the mayor of Blüdhaven?"

You open your mouth, but pause for just a fraction too long.

Dick doesn't say a word. He doesn't have to.

"I know the answer," you insist. "I was going to say it."

"Sure you were."

"You did this to me." You point at him, accusatory. "This is your fault."

"I accept full responsibility." He bites down on his lip, voice strained with the effort of keeping a straight face. "I am genuinely so proud right now."

You exhale, sinking deeper into the mattress, and your exhaustion must show, because he quiets at once and his expression softens.

He leans in close enough that his breath brushes your cheek. “C’mere, beautiful.”

His hand slides behind your neck as he helps you sit up against him. The movement makes your limbs feel like wet sand, heavy and uncooperative.

"Easy," he murmurs.

He steadies you, one arm around your waist while the other reaches for the water bottle already waiting on the nightstand and brings it to your lips, and you drink obediently. The cold water hits your tongue and you actually sigh.

"There you go,” he says quietly, thumb brushing once at the base of your neck. 

You hum, barely, and he presses a kiss to your temple. He reaches for the nightstand again and grabs a granola bar, unwrapping it and breaking off a piece before holding it up expectantly.

"I can feed myself."

"Can you?"

You open your mouth, and he places the bite on your tongue with a small smirk.

"That's what I thought," he says, but it's gentle.

You lightly flick at his bicep, and he only feeds you another piece.

The room glows amber from the bedside lamp. The sheets are tangled around your legs, the air still warm, the mattress dipping where he sits close beside you. Your body feels pleasantly overused, every muscle loose and humming.

Dick watches your face as you chew slowly, then swallow.

"Sore?" he asks, voice low.

You shake your head. "Just sleepy.”

He studies you for another second anyway, checking for anything you're not saying.

“You sure?”

"Promise," you reply with a little smile.

His expression eases. He sets the granola bar aside and shifts behind you, drawing you fully into him until your back rests against his chest. The blanket comes up around both of you, tucked under your arms with absent practice.

"Proud of you," he murmurs.

You huff out a laugh. "For what?"

"Persevering through adversity."

"You're unbearable."

"And yet," he says, "still your favorite."

You're too tired to deny it properly. His hand slips beneath the blanket to rest on your stomach, palm warm and grounding. The other traces slow shapes against your arm: circles, lines, little absent patterns that make your eyelids heavier by the second.

Beneath your ear, his heartbeat knocks steady and sure.

"You know," you mumble, words starting to slur, "if you tell anyone about this, I'll deny everything."

"Wouldn't dream of it. I'll just treasure the memory forever."

"That's somehow worse."

He tucks his head over yours, and you let your heavy lids fall over your eyes, body sinking deeper into him. His fingers keep moving soothingly over your skin.

Just before sleep takes you, he speaks into your hair.

"Tomorrow," he repeats fondly.

You groan weakly, and his soft laugh follows you under.

navi | m.list | © 2026 patientofarkhamasylum. all rights reserved.

[twentytomidnight]

I’m a vet tech! I’m bi. I really enjoying gaming in my spare time as well as reading and writing. I play a lot of Horror games for someone who’s terrified of everything, I’m a big ol scaredy cat. I like collecting nicknacks, mostly of animals, but I also have a few statuettes of Victorian women. I have a very large Funko collection. I like jewelry, I’m not overly picky about the pieces, it’s mostly the vibe. Kitties are my favorite animal. I HATE bugs, spiders especially.

I would like to take my chances and get matched with someone from Mortal Kombat please! 💖

Joke: Why don’t blind people skydive?

Scares the shit outta their dogs

Bonus points if you can guess where I got it from

The crystal ball has found a match for you....

...It's Johnny Cage!

When he steps out of the mist, there's a notable swagger to his walk as he approaches, his thumbs looped easily into the pockets of his jeans that seem to hang quite low on the muscular slope of his hips.

He takes a moment to appraise you, ducking his head to look past the opaque lenses that hide those dancing eyes; as the cocky smirk grows on his face, it's clear that he's quite happy with what he sees.

"I hear someone was looking for a match," Johnny rolls his neck in luxuriating, casual manner. All the muscles in his neck, his coiled shoulders flex; as he moves, you can see the hint of a tattoo underneath the roguishly crooked collar of his shirt.

"Guess they called the right guy for the job." He grins as he stands before you. "Think you just hit the jackpot, baby."

He continues to look you up and down before a wicked look passes over his face. "You ever been on a movie set, sweetheart? I'd love to give you the tour."

Johnny watches your face for your reaction, but it's clear that the only thing he's expecting is a resounding yes.

The crystal ball has spoken...

[cassiecasluciluce]

Oh my GAHHHHHHHH

THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU

[ciricearts]

i tried to make her look as much like her game model as i could this time<3

[cassiecasluciluce]

CLAIRE BEARRRRRR

[vinnyandthephenomena]

Telling Puppy! Leon to “Slow Down.”

MDNI. Puppy! Leon was driven by sheer instinct and hormones. Asking him to slow down was asking the ridiculous .. the near impossible. (or he didn’t want to.)

tags: knotting, rough p in v, puppy hybrid! leon, breeding kink, established relationship.

Your cheek was smushed into the pillows as Leon rutted into you from behind. “Oh, my pretty owner.” He grasped at your hips, licked a stripe up your neck to the back of your ear. It made you shiver. “I’m sorry.” He whined, ears flat on his head. “It can’t be that bad, feels so good.” He hummed, his hips never stopping their relentless pace. rough and needy.

“Leon! It’s too much.” You managed to choke out, nails digging into the sheets. “You need to slow down.” You panted, bare chest dragging against the mattress with each jerk of your body. You knew it was a stupid idea, giving into your puppy’s whining and begging. He knew how to persuade you, knew how to get exactly what he wanted. It started with wanting to sleep in your bed, and barging in on your bath time to join in. It seemed Leon lacked the concept of personal space. (or boundaries.) Yet you let him get away with it.

“Can’t.” He growled, fingers squishing into the fat of your hips. “S’ close already, gotta fill you up.” His breath was warm on your ear, his tongue running over it. You could only whimper, feeling his drool run down your cheek. “Give you my puppy knot.” He nuzzled into your shoulder, his hips snapping with increased intensity. It was frantic, chasing his high.

“Leon, please slow down. I-I’m serious,” Your words came out in slurred mumbles, the pleasure became hard to resist.

“Fuck, I-I can’t, gonna pop my knot s’ fast.” His chest was pressed to your back, humping you faster with every thrust. It was overstimulating to take him so deep and fast, over and over as his cock teased your cervix. “Gonna give you alll of it, make you a mommy.” He babbled, sliding his hands to grip your tummy.

“Leon,” You moaned, feeling his fluffy ears nudge your skin as he nuzzled close, as if he could rub his scent all over you. Claim you. If he wasn’t so needy, that is. He wasn’t typically the dominant one.

The metal name tag on his collar was cold when it brushed against your shoulder, reminding you of who owned who. Even if Leon acted spoiled and took what he wanted, he was yours. The very name you scolded and whimpered.

“Owner, my sweet owner.” He was drooling down your neck again, lapping at your skin and panting as he throbbed inside. Twitching and aching to knot your pussy. “Oh, F-Fuck.” A breathy whimper was spilled against your ear as he felt even thicker and bigger, grinding his hips as he stuffed you full. “Couldn’t help it.” Leon sounded a little embarrassed, panting as he kissed your cheek.

“You just wanted to.” You corrected, eyes fluttering shut. You were helplessly pinned beneath his sweaty body, not going anywhere for a good while.

“I did.” He admitted, fully content with laying top on your back. He was heavy, but didn’t seem to have a care in the world. Typical of your puppy—didn’t seem to have a lot going on in his dumb brain. He was all clingy, making the waiting period not so bad .. at least you were a fan of cockwarming.

[wntersdoe]

18+ mdni

cw: slight dub!con, dbf! leon, leon being a pervy old man, mentions of stealing underwear and sniffing em... oops, unprotected sex (wrap it up people) leon is 49, reader is early 20s, leon being obsessed with your pussy, leon being a tease.

pervy dbf! leon kennedy who’s so busy sliding the fat and leaking head of his cock in and out of your dripping pussy to hear your sweet little pleas, which consists of ''It's too much...Leon.. too much.'' and ''S-Slow...mhm... down.'' He’s so lost in watching how you suck him right back in like the good girl you are.

He’d pull back out almost all the way, before repeating the motion just to see it over and over again. ''Fuck… would you look at that'' he breathed, his voice low and wrecked as his hands grip onto your thighs, spreading you wider for him.

The mattress faintly creaking beneath you as he rocked his hips at a shallow and tortures tempo. ''Greedy little pussy welcoming me back in each time. Isn’t that right, sweet girl?''

You’re a whimpering mess, hands twisted in your bedsheets as you try to be quiet. Easier said than done when your dad's best friend has his cock buried inside you.

''Leon…mphf… my dad could… ah-'' He didn’t even acknowledge your pleas at first, to mesmerized by the way your pussy lips wrapped around him, glistening with your arousal and watching the way you flutter and clench around him so nicely. Like your body was struggling with wanting to let go of him.

''Mhm? What was that?'' he murmured, dark eyes flicking up to look at your flushed face. A cruel little smirk tugged at his lips as he withdrew all the way, hearing the cutest huff leave your lips at the empty feeling. Naughty girl.

He slapped the head of his cock against your clit a couple of times, before rubbing it through your folds just to watch you squirm and attempt to push at his shoulders. ''You sure you want me to stop, hm? Your adorable head might be saying no, but this tight little body is screaming yes.'' he cooed before grabbing at your wrists and pinning them above your head.

The look on your face had to be the prettiest thing he's ever seen. Your cheeks flushed, eyes wide and glassy, lips swollen from his mouth earlier.

''Your dad doesn't have to know about this, if you just keep quiet.'' He reached down with his other hand to grip your chin, ''You'll be good and keep this a secret, right?'' You bit down on your lip, nodding. Leon smirked and gave your cheek a soft pat before reaching down to grip the base of his cock, guiding it back to your entrance. ''Good, now let me get back to feeling this needy pussy around me.''

He fed the fat tip back inside you, shallow fucking motions that had your pussy spasming as you sucked him in. Leon groaned at the feeling, whilst your head tipped back on a soft breathy moan. ''So fucking tight for me. None of the boys your age will ever be able to stretch you out like this. You're molded perfectly for me and just me.''

Your hips twitched, attempting to take more of him as Leon's control was slipping. He leaned over you, one forearm braced beside your head as he sank in deeper, halfway there now, grunting at how tightly you were gripping him.

His free hand covered your mouth as you moaned a little to loud. ''Shhh, I told you to be quiet, baby. Don't want your dad waking up and finding me balls-deep in his daughter.'' he purred as the wet squelching sounds filled the small room, obsecene and loud enough that it was surprising that your dad hadn't woken up by it.

''You know, I've been jerking off to the thought of this for years.'' he confessed in a rough whisper. ''Stealing your panties whenever I'd come over. Not enough to have you wondering, but just so I could smell them while stroking my cock, imagining how tight and nice you'd feel. And you've exceeded my expectations, baby.'' Leon chuckled before finally thrusting all the way in, bottoming out with a low guttural sound. His heavy balls smacking against the underside of your ass.

The stretch was overwhelming in the best way and Leon stayed bruied deep for a moment, grinding slow and filthy, before fucking you in earnest. His strokes were deep, posessive, so much that your bed was protesting by the way it thumped against the wall. Your moans were muffled against his hand as his other was gripping your hip, harshly.

''Your mine. Always has and always will be.'' he growled against your ear, hips snapping harder against your own. ''Doesn't fucking matter whos daughter you are. This pussy belongs to me.''

i'm so down bad for pervy old man leon!!

likes, comments & reblogs are very much appreciated ♡

[tsaescii]

how it feels spending money on something i wanted

[cs-glitch]

thinking about being valeria's sugar baby and seeing something you shouldn't have.... (ALT LINK; AO3)

18+ MDNI !!!

this might classify as DDNE so... aggressively gesturing to the cw: section READ THE WARNINGS ‼️‼️

cw: fem!reader, smut, gun violence, threats of violence & murder (Valeria threatens reader), implied/referenced torture & murder, blood (no gore, just mentions of blood), manipulation, possessive & obsessive behavior, kidnapping (kind of?), sex work/implied sex work, brief slut-shaming, lowkey yandere!valeria tbh, really bad attempt at bird imagery/metaphors, 1.5K word count

You’re not sure what you’re supposed to call Valeria, or what you’d label this specific arrangement. It’s more than sex but less than lovers, it’s something transactional— bordering on ownership. She’d gotten annoyed when you’d referred to yourself as her sugar baby.

​

“Don’t demean yourself, you’re not some cheap whore.” She’d scoffed before pulling you into her lap.

You still laugh at the fact that immediately after she ordered a six-thousand-dollar bottle of champagne just because you glanced at it.

​

You’ve never mentioned her work around her; you know better. It’s not hard to piece an answer together between the burner phones, locked doors, and mysterious income. You pretend you don’t see the flags that drip with red— ignore the metallic scent in the air.

Something’s different about her this time; she’s tense, on edge. Maybe it’s naive, but you just want to help her the same way she’s helped you.

You’re lying in bed with Valeria, your naked bodies pressed together underneath the silk sheet, when you’re finally brave enough to ask. “Rough day at work?”

The air feels thick suddenly, and her gaze burns your skin. You’re not sure what you’re anticipating: silence, shouting, maybe even for her to kick you out.

You’re not prepared for the harsh kiss she pulls you into. Her teeth bite down on your lip, and you can taste iron when she shoves her tongue past your lips.

“Gonna make you feel good, birdie,” she mumbles as she pulls away, trailing her lips down your neck and chest.

You spread your legs as her hand makes its way up your thigh. A breathy sigh leaves your mouth as her fingers slide through your wet fold.

“Please,” you whimper, gripping her hips tight.

She places one last kiss on your collarbone before her mouth moves lower and lower. She doesn’t hesitate when her lips engulf your clit.

You gasp, hips jerking up involuntarily, when two of her fingers push past your entrance.

This isn’t about your pleasure or hers– she’s being cruel. Her pace is just a little too slow, and her fingers curl so close but not quite at that perfect spot.

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes when she pulls her mouth away. Her brown eyes glance up at you before she roughly bites your inner thigh. “Don’t be such a crybaby, mi avecilla.”

It stings, and as she pulls away, you can feel the indent marks her teeth have left in your skin– but you can’t deny the way your cunt clenches tighter around her fingers.

“Need more, please, Val, faster,” you whine, attempting to grind your hips against her hand.

She pauses for a moment, her head resting on your thigh, and she stares you down. The way she looks at you is heavy, intense. It's as if she’s trying to memorize every detail of your face– like it's the last time she'll ever see you.

“Tell me you love me.” Her words come out soft and vulnerable. “Tell me you love me, that you need me, that I’m good.” The way her voice cracks makes your chest ache.

“I love you, Valeria. I love you so much, baby. I need you more than you’ll ever fucking now. You’re so good– so good to me.” You whisper sweetly, every word that leaves your lips is nothing but true

Your back arches as her fingers thrust in and out of you, scissoring you open. Her tongue sucking at your clit is all it takes for that familiar pressure to build in your stomach.

“I love you! Please let me cum, please,” you beg with a hand tangled in her hair.

“Cum,” When she finally gives you permission, it feels less like a reward and more like a warning. Your cunt clenches around her fingers as your head falls back and your mouth falls open in a silent gasp.  

You wince as her fingers pull out of you, an empty feeling settling in your hole.

You don’t gag when her digits suddenly push past your lips. You look into her eyes as you taste yourself on her skin.

She falls into bed next to you. Her arm wraps tight– too tight– around your waist. “Don’t ever ask me about my work again, understand?” She whispers, lips pressed against your ear.

The only response you manage to give is a shaky nod.

​

You wake up in the middle of the night, cold, sheets tossed aside. You glance around, but she’s nowhere in sight.

You toss on one of her soft, silk robes before slipping into the hallway.

You hadn’t meant to go into her private office, really; this house is just so big, and it’s too easy to get a little lost.

The man tied to the chair screams at you for help as soon as you open the door. One of Val’s friends— Diego, you later recall— grabs you by the arm and drags you out as you scream.

You can hardly hear over the sound of the gunshots ringing in your ears. You lean against the hallway wall for support.  You try to speak, to say anything, but your mouth feels like a desert.

Valeria’s hand is on your face, and you can feel the traces of sticky blood on her fingertips. She’s cooing at you, whispering soft reassurances, but your mind is too hazy to understand them.

You should run. You should hit, fight, and claw your way out of here– run to somewhere far, far, away.

She’s shouting your name, you realize. You quickly snap your head up and wonder how you didn’t feel the gun pointed at your temple sooner.

“I’m so sorry, mi avecilla, my poor little birdie. You were never supposed to see that.” She coos at you. The gentle touch against your cheek shouldn’t be soothing, but you can feel your heartbeat start to calm down.

“I swear, I didn’t, I didn’t mean to,” you sob.

You’re not sure what’s worse: the gentle kisses she’s placing along your neck or the feeling of cold metal against the side of your head.

“I know, but it happened, princess. Now we have to figure out where to go from here.” Her words are a sharp contrast to the loving look she’s giving you.

You already know her answer, yet you ask the question anyway. “Can’t you just let me go?”

She shakes her head, and your heart drops. “You know I can’t do that. You’ve seen too much, yes, but you’re also too important. Do you know how many people would want to hurt you to try to get to me? Do you have any idea what I’d have to do if they succeeded?”

You feel nauseous at her choice of words. Have to. Not what she would do, but what she’d have to. God, if that isn’t a terrifying thought.  

“I’d torch entire cities if it meant getting you back. I’d murder, I’d torture— I’ve done it before.” It’s supposed to be an admission of guilt. Something you don’t know, but deep down you’ve always suspected who she really was.

“And if something happened to you? I’d do it over and over again, all in your name, mi avecilla,. I’d abandon everything I’ve built just to chase your shadow.” She whispered.

You know then that Valeria may love you, yes, but her version of love is one you don’t know if you’ll survive. The realization weighs heavily in your chest. It sounds less like a confession of love and more like the damning noise of a cage door being locked.

“What if I stay?” you whisper just as she clicks the safety off. You swallow despite the lump in your throat. “What if I just stayed here with you, Val?”

“You’d never be able to leave. You’ll be a bird with clipped wings. It’s a fate far less merciful than the bullet.”

You want to scream at her— to tell her you know. That you understand it’d probably be easier to die here in her arms than to live by her side as a pet. Instead, you nod.

Your body relaxes as the gun hits the floor. Her hand presses against the back of your neck as her lips suddenly melt into yours.

It’s not soft.  There is no kindness behind her touch, but you can feel the pure devotion. Her bloodied hands settle on your hips, squeezing tightly— as if she’s scared you’ll fly away. The red and sticky feeling left on your skin burns like a brand.

You can’t help the whine that escapes as she pulls away. “Tell me you love me, that you need me. Tell me I’m good.” It’s not a request anymore, but a demand.

You swallow the sob that threatens to claw its way out of your throat. “I love you. I need you. You’re… good– so good.” You hate that you still mean every word.

They say a gilded cage is still a cage, but maybe you don't want to be free– at least not from her.  

Yes, she’d clipped your wings, but you’d handed her the shears willingly.

You’d never cared much for flying, anyway.

[snxxceyii]

Damian oh how dear you are to me

Close ups

[twentytomidnight]

In other news this stupid game is finally forcing me to get into Invincible fr

oh stocks are so up for @splodencible right now hehe

[splodencible]

@cassiecasluciluce you will NOT regret this, promise 😇

maybe minus a possible heartbreak but that's on another note

[cassiecasluciluce]

I’m sure I won’t! I’ve been meaning to get into it fr for a while now bc my cousin really likes it so I’ve made plans to watch it with my dad (he has prime I don’t lmao) your blog and fics have been a HUGE part of the decision so tysm for all of your beautiful work 💖