Warnings: Angst, obsessive/possessive behavior, manipulative family dynamics, forced confinement (golden cage), isolation from the outside world, blood consumption (unspecified/fresh), loss of autonomy.
English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammar or punctuation mistakes.
Part Five
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When Dick and Damian’s shift ended, even the cold air of the cave seemed to grow heavier with their departure. The duo that replaced them, however, brought a completely different energy: Stephanie’s frantic, "fix it all" cheerfulness and Jason’s searing commentary.
Stephanie hopped over to my side, a Monopoly set clutched in her arms. "Hey, I hope Dick hasn't drowned you in sorrow yet," she said, but her voice was an octave higher and more tense than usual. "Look, I brought Monopoly. And I swear not to cheat at least, not too much!"
As she set up the board on the table, Jason leaned against a distant desk, tossing and catching a small, dark glass vial, watching us silently.
"Come on, Jason, don't just stand there like a statue scouting us," Steph said, shaking the dice box. "Come and join us. Our sibling needs to get back to some kind of normal."
"Normal?" Jason approached mockingly and sat backward in the chair next to us. "Our sibling explodes like a firework in sunlight, Steph. I think the 'normal' ship sailed from the harbor a long time ago."
"Shut up, Jason!" Steph snapped, then immediately smiled at me. "It’s just... an adjustment period. Look, I’ll give you all the properties in Monopoly. Heck, you can even be the bank if you want."
We started the game, but the atmosphere was strained. Every time I rolled the dice, Steph checked my hands, while Jason scrutinized my every move as if analyzing a predator. After a while, Steph suddenly stood up.
"I should pop some popcorn before the movie! Alfred must have some of that special buttery corn left in the kitchen," she said. She leaned in and ruffled my hair. "I’ll be right back; don’t let Jason bore you with his depressing stories."
The moment Steph ran toward the elevator cheerfully, or at least trying to look the part the air in the cave shifted instantly. I was alone with Jason. He placed that small vial on the table, right in front of me.
"Don't fall for her 'everything is fine' act," Jason said, his voice turning dead serious. "Bruce and Tim are upstairs turning your room into a dungeon. Yeah, an ultra-luxury, UV-filtered dungeon. But at the end of the day, the key to that door won't be in your hand."
I picked up the vial. "What is this?"
"A special gift I brought you. Not from that frozen stock Alfred serves. This is... fresher. I 'procured' it personally for you," Jason said, leaning in and whispering. "The others pity you because they think you're a victim. I see what you've become. If you want to survive in this world, you don't need their compassion; you need my realism. You need to drink what I bring, too, understand? The stuff they offer won't keep you strong."
I swallowed as I locked eyes with Jason. I didn't want to think about how he had filled that vial. The possessive glint in his eyes was much darker than Dick’s affection. "When I find the one who did this to you, I'll handle them myself."
Just then, the elevator doors opened, and Steph returned with a giant bowl of popcorn. Jason pulled back and leaned into his chair as if the previous conversation had never happened.
"I'm back! Let the movie begin," Steph said, settling in front of the television. The movie she brought was an old vampire classic.
As the film started, the three of us sat side by side. Steph made a face at the vampire on the screen while eating her popcorn. "Oh, come on! Isn't it ridiculous that the guy runs away from garlic? How are you with garlic?"
"It tastes gross, but it doesn't kill me, Steph," I said with a slight smile.
"See?" Jason said, throwing his arm over the back of the sofa, right behind my head. "Hollywood failed again. Look, that vampire sleeps in a coffin. Do you have an instinct to sleep in a coffin?"
"No, too claustrophobic."
Steph leaned in closer to me. "We just want you to be safe. That vampire in the movie was alone; he had no one. But you have us. You're with us. We will never leave you alone in those dark streets again."
Throughout the movie, Stephanie clung to my hand during every scary scene, though I'm certain she wasn't actually afraid. Jason watched me from the other side like a silent shadow. We mocked the vampire’s mistakes on the screen, and I took all of Jason’s money in Monopoly. But with every laugh, I felt the walls around me rising a little higher. While they told me they were "protecting" me, they were actually slowly erasing me from the world.
English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammar or punctuation mistakes.
Part Four
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The Batcave had never been this crowded, this "alive." Normally, this was Batman’s sanctuary of solitude, but now whispers echoed in every corner, and every step I took was silently tracked by at least two pairs of eyes. Sitting on the wide sofa in the med-bay, wrapped in a thick blanket, I felt like both the world’s most precious treasure and its most dangerous bomb.
Dick was perched right next to me on the edge of the sofa. Holding a silver tray, he offered me a crystal glass filled with a crimson liquid kept at exact body temperature, a forced, awkward smile plastered on his face.
"You should drink a bit more," Dick said, his voice softening. He reached out with his free hand to stroke my hair. "Your body needs to recover. It makes my heart ache just thinking about how you tried to survive on... those disgusting things for a week. But it’s over now, okay? From now on, you’ll have only the freshest of everything."
"Dick, I’m fine. Really," I said, setting the glass down on the table. "It’s just... a little weird, all of you watching me like this."
"What’s weird is that we weren't watching before," Damian interjected. His voice was as sharp as a sword strike echoing against the cold walls of the med-bay. He let his dog down from his lap, stood up, and walked directly in front of me. His gaze flickered between the security screens at the entrance and me. "Our mission is to ensure you never fall into such vulnerability again. Tim is upstairs redesigning every single inch of the manor for you. UV-filtered glass, automatic shutter systems... The sun will no longer be an enemy to you, because they are turning the entire house into a fortress for your sake."
Dick nodded in agreement. "Yes, Tim is currently calibrating the manor's security protocols based on your biological data. You’ll never have to experience that horrible accident in the garden again. We’re in control now; everything is for your safety and comfort."
I turned my eyes toward the giant monitors. I could see the frantic activity upstairs. I knew Bruce was scouring every inch of Gotham on a massive map, hunting for the vampire that attacked me that night. While Alfred prepared special, nutrient-rich supplements in the kitchen, Jason and Stephanie were getting ready for the next watch—or perhaps, under Bruce’s orders, to track down the creature in the streets of Gotham. Everyone was doing something; some were physically closing off the house, while others were building a spiritual wall around me.
"So, does this mean I can't go out anymore?" I asked, unable to hide the tremor in my voice.
Damian turned to me, and for the first time, I saw an almost submissive softness in his eyes. "The outside world failed to protect you. We will. Until Bruce finds that creature and the city is 100% safe for you... your place is here. With us."
Dick took my hand, pulling my ice-cold fingers into his warm palms. "We can't risk losing you again," he whispered. "Do you know how heavy this guilt is? We were right beside you, but we didn't see you. But now... it's impossible for me to take my eyes off you."
"Incompetence," Damian said, spitting the word out like it was a sin. "This family’s greatest sin was incompetence. While you were dying in that alley that night, we were swallowing Gotham's dust chasing imaginary criminals. We allowed my sibling to be harmed by such a pathetic vampire."
"Damian, it wasn't your fault," I murmured, but he didn't even hear me.
Damian placed a hand on my shoulder. Unlike Dick’s gentle touch, his fingers were as tight as a claw. "That creature thought he stole you from us. He thought he made you free by turning you into a 'thing.' But he was wrong. Now, you are more with us than ever. While Tim transforms the manor into a sanctuary for you, I will personally take charge of your training and security."
"Training? Damian, I’m a vampire, not a ninja," I said with a mocking tone.
A dark glint flashed in Damian’s eyes. "Now, you are both. As a newly turned vampire, I cannot risk you losing control and hurting yourself or someone else. Therefore, I will not leave your side for even a second. When you are hungry, I will be here. When you are afraid, I will be here. Tim will monitor that new rhythm inside you every second with the sensors he’s installed in your room. And Bruce will not allow the sun to rise in Gotham until he finds and destroys whatever touched you that night."
Dick stepped in, placing a hand on Damian’s shoulder. "Damian is right, kiddo. There’s a lot of work going on upstairs right now. No one will neglect you again. No one will ever be able to ignore you."
That desire to be noticed, which I had craved for years, was now collapsing over me like an avalanche. Damian’s possessive stares, Dick’s hand stroking my hair... they were all like an apology, but also like chains I couldn't escape. I knew Bruce was building a "livable" world for me upstairs, but they were the ones drawing the borders of that world. I had become a "keepsake" that only they could see, only they could feed, and only they could protect. It was an "apology" operation, but it felt a lot like a life sentence with no end in sight.
Warnings: Vampirism reveal, angst, medical setting, graphic description of injuries, intense guilt, themes of neglect, overprotective/possessive behavior, confinement
English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammar or punctuation mistakes.
Part Three
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Normally, the sterile and cold air of the Batcave would relax me. But right now, lying on the medical table under those massive, blinding spotlights, I felt like an autopsy victim. Technically, I suppose I was.
"This... isn't rational," Bruce muttered. His voice sounded like the mechanical glitch of a computer just before it crashes. He held the scanner over the blistered, charred burns on my neck. "Sunburn shouldn't cause this level of tissue loss. At least, not from a few seconds of contact."
"Bruce, the data doesn't lie," Tim said, showing the biological analysis on his tablet with trembling hands. His voice lacked its usual confident tone. "Body temperature is below room temperature. Cell regeneration is... incredibly fast, but only in the shade. This isn't a disease, Bruce. It matches the cases of vampirism in literature perfectly."
Stephanie was in the corner of the med-bay, trying to stay calm, trying not to let her guilt override her logic. "I just wanted to cheer you up. I was joking. I thought you were dying. There was actual smoke coming off you!"
Cass walked over to Stephanie and put a hand on her shoulder, but her eyes never left me. This time, Cass didn't speak in riddles. Her eyes were tearing up, a sight I rarely saw. "I saw you," she said clearly. "Your body slowed down, frozen. But I only thought you were 'tired.' I didn't look. I didn't truly look. I’m sorry."
The cave’s elevator opened with a loud roar. When Dick and Damian burst in, the heavy scent of guilt in the air was almost nauseating.
"What's going on?" Dick lunged toward me, but he froze in his tracks when he saw the burns and the terrifying, lifeless pallor of my skin. "God... Your neck... what is this?"
I couldn't take it anymore. I sat up on the table. Moving was pure agony because of the burns, but I couldn't stay silent.
"Stop examining me like a lab rat," I said, my exhaustion echoing up to the cave's ceiling. "You all know the answer. You’re just afraid to admit it."
"Explain," Damian said, his arms crossed, clearly trying to stay patient. "Who did this to you?"
"A week ago," I began, choosing every word like a blow to their heads. "You were all on patrol at the docks. I was coming back to the manor. I knew I shouldn't have been out that late, but I was bored, lonely, and careless. A man jumped me. He bit me. I felt the venom start to crawl through my veins... felt almost all my blood being drained. My whole body went cold. I died there, next to those filthy trash containers. Then I woke up again. I’ve been wandering this house like a zombie for a week, and not one of you even asked, 'Hey, are you sick?'"
Dick buried his face in his hands. "A week... You’ve been suffering for a week and we just talked about the weather with you at dinner. We didn't even notice you weren't breathing."
"I pretended to breathe," I said with a mocking smile. "No one was looking at my face anyway." No one was truly interested in me. They were busy with their cases, with Joker, with Penguin. I was just like a piece of furniture in the house.
Bruce gripped the scanner in his hand so hard his knuckles turned white. Batman, the man who watches every corner of Gotham, had missed his own child dying in his own home. Seeing the devastation in his eyes actually surprised me.
"I should have protected you," Bruce said, his voice coming from a place so deep it sounded like his soul was tearing apart. "I neglected you. I left you alone in our own home."
"What are you going to do now?" I asked, stepping off the table. I could feel the burns healing with vampire speed—the skin was peeling away, revealing a smooth but cold layer underneath. "Are you going to lock me in a cell because I’m dangerous?"
"Never," Jason said. His voice was strangely calm, but there was a flicker in his eyes—as if I were the only thing in the world worth focusing on. It wasn't just curiosity. "No one is locking you up. But you aren't taking a single step without us anymore."
"Jason’s right," Dick said, quickly coming to my side and grabbing my hands. The ice of my skin made him shiver, but he didn't let go. Instead, he gripped tighter. "We’re sorry. We will never leave you alone again. You aren't invisible anymore. I promise, you're all we're going to see now."
Bruce turned to the main computer and typed in several commands. The massive exit doors of the cave locked with a heavy thud. It didn't look like a prison sentence; it was more like the panic of someone who had found something they lost and was now obsessing over it to make sure they never lost it again.
"Tim, outfit their room with UV-protected glass," Bruce said, his authoritative voice returning, though there was a hidden tremor in it. "Alfred, prepare the freshest... supplements. Damian, stay with your sibling and make sure they're alright. You won't leave the cave until the house is suitable for you and you’ve fully healed."
The heavy feeling of being neglected was suddenly replaced by an overwhelming, almost suffocating wave of attention. They were all around me. They were all watching me. This was the attention I had wanted for years, but now, under their guilt-ridden, possessive stares, I began to feel like I was in a cage that was slowly closing. I wasn't free anymore; I was the family's "most precious mistake that had to be saved."
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A/N: Writing this part was such an emotional rollercoaster for me. That line about being "invisible furniture" in your own home... it really hurts when you think about it. Now that the secret is out, the dynamic in the manor is going to change forever. From total neglect to total obsession.
Warnings: Blood consumption, body horror (skin burning/smoking), physical pain, injury description, family neglect, secret identity revealed (partially)
English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammar or punctuation mistakes.
Part Two
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The most ironic thing about being a vampire was that once you turned into a "monster," living under the same roof as the world’s greatest detectives actually became easier. Why? Because no one was looking for you. Batman expected alien invasions or the Joker’s latest gag; he didn't expect his overlooked child to be straining raw meat juice in the kitchen. Invisibility was my greatest superpower. Or so I thought.
It was around two in the morning. The manor’s kitchen looked like a silvery graveyard under the moonlight. I controlled every tiny click my feet made against the floor. I opened the refrigerator door slowly. From the neatly arranged packages Alfred kept, I picked the bloodiest one—a steak. My fingers trembled slightly as I unscrewed the cap of my shaker. I pierced the corner of the package with a small knife and watched the dark, thick crimson fill the bottle. To a normal person, this sight would be nauseating, but for me, it was like plugging in a phone that was about to die.
"Your protein diet is... surprisingly disciplined."
I didn’t jump. Thanks to vampire reflexes, I simply froze. Jason was perched on one of the bar stools in the dark corner of the kitchen, watching me with a cup of coffee in his hand.
"Jason. Couldn't sleep?" I said, quickly capping the bottle and hiding it under the counter.
"Sleep in Gotham? Good joke," Jason said, his eyes never leaving mine. "The smell of that mix reached all the way over here. Seems like it’s got a lot of iron in it, kid?"
"For the anemia," I said, masking the tremor in my voice. "You know I've been looking pretty pale lately."
Jason didn't say a word; he just studied me with those eyes that glowed in the dark. There was something in that look—like he was putting the pieces together, but couldn't see the whole picture just yet. I brushed past him and fled to my room.
The next morning, I woke up to that cheerful voice—the harbinger of disaster. When Stephanie Brown threw my curtains open in one swift motion, I thanked whatever luck was left that I had moved my bed away from the morning sun.
"Alright! House arrest is over!" Steph hopped onto the edge of my bed. "Alfred says you’ve been spending too much time in your room. And Cass thinks you look... how should I put it? 'Frozen'."
I peeked my head out from under the pillow. Cass was standing in the doorway. Her arms were crossed, her eyes scanning the slump of my shoulders, the way my pupils reacted to the light.
"I'm fine. Just a little tired," I whispered.
"You're not tired, you're practically translucent!" Steph grabbed my hand. She paused for a moment. "God, why are your hands so cold? You’re like ice."
Cass took a step forward. "No rhythm at all," she said simply. I knew she meant my pulse, but her voice sounded like a warning. "You need air."
"See? Even Cass agrees!" Steph started dragging me out of bed. "We’re going to the garden. Alfred prepped an amazing picnic. Sun, fresh air, and lots of gossip. No excuses, or I’ll carry you myself."
There was no escape. If I refused, their suspicions would only grow. "Fine," I said, taking a deep (but fake) breath. "Just give me five minutes to get ready."
As soon as they left, I ran to the bathroom. I pulled out the highest SPF sunscreens from my bag. My face, my neck, my hands... I slathered it on until my skin was covered in a thick, white layer. I looked tragic in the mirror, but this cream was my armor.
When we got outside, the weather was perfect. For a normal human. For me, it was like walking into an oven. Stephanie cheerfully took my arm and led me toward the picnic blanket on the grass.
"So, tell us," Steph said, taking a bite of her sandwich. "Why have you been acting so mysterious lately? Trouble at school? Or did Bruce get under your skin again?"
"I just... feel a bit left out," I said, which was partially true. "Everyone has their own thing. I’m just filling the gaps in between."
Steph paused, her gaze softening. "Oh... Don't feel that way. I know we neglect you sometimes, but look, we're here today."
Cass sat right next to me, her eyes never leaving me for a second. "Why so much cream?" she asked suddenly.
"I burn easily, Cass," I said with a forced smile. "I'm very sensitive."
Cass reached out slowly and touched some of the cream on my arm. She frowned. She was watching my movements, my tension under the sun, my urge to bolt for the shadows. She knew something was wrong. Even Steph didn't look so cheerful anymore; she kept checking my face.
"Oh come on, don't be so serious!" Steph suddenly stood up. "Let's have some fun! Come here!"
Steph grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the middle of the garden, near the sprinklers. "You know, sometimes we need to break that serious attitude of yours."
"Steph, no, the sprinklers—" Before I could finish, she pushed me toward the spray with a mischievous laugh.
At that moment, the automatic sprinklers hissed to life with a loud burst. Cold water hit my face, my neck, everywhere. "A little water won't hurt!" she shouted, running toward the spray herself.
But within seconds, the water began to dissolve and wash away the thick layer of sunscreen on my face and neck. The moment the protection vanished, the midday sun hit my bare skin directly.
"AH! DAMN IT!"
My scream cut through Steph’s laughter like a blade. I saw a thin, gray wisp of smoke rising from my skin. It was an agony like someone was pouring boiling oil over my face. I covered my face with my hands and sprinted toward the shade of the veranda.
"My god, what happened? It was just water!" Steph followed me in horror. Cass had already reached my side, trying to pull me deeper into the shade, but she too froze at the sight of the smoke.
Once in the shadows, I could see the skin on my neck and hands turning red, blistering, and charring in patches. The pain was so intense I was on the verge of losing consciousness.
I looked up and saw Jason leaning against the balcony railing, watching us. But the look on his face wasn't "curious" anymore. His eyes focused first on the sprinklers, then on the white residue on the ground, and finally on the faint smoke still drifting from my skin.
Jason didn't wait for an explanation. The blood-drained bodies in Gotham, my "protein" sessions in the kitchen, Cass’s warnings about my "empty rhythm," and now... a kid who washed off with water and burned in the sun.
Jason slowly set his cup down. He said nothing, but his gaze screamed, "I caught you." The pieces had clicked. I was no longer just the neglected sibling. Jason Todd had found the monster in the house.
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A/N: Can we talk about the irony of Jason being the one to connect the dots? The man who literally crawled out of his own grave is the first one to recognize the scent of death on his own sibling. I’m so sorry for the "sunscreen" incident, but I had to do it for the plot!
Jason knows. Cass knows. The "invisible sibling" isn't so invisible anymore. Are you ready for the confrontation in Part 3?
Warnings: Blood consumption, major injury (implied/mentioned), body horror (mild), family neglect, secret identity, vampirism.
English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammar or punctuation mistakes.
Part One
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There are thousands of ways to die in Gotham City. You could be gassed by a clown, digested by a giant plant, or simply shot because you bumped into the wrong person in the wrong alley. But my luck? I got the outdated, foul-smelling variety—a vampire who probably last took a bath during the Industrial Revolution.
To be honest, a week ago, when he lunged at me in that dark alley, I wasn't so much afraid of the pain as I was of the lecture Bruce would give me. “Why were you out this late?” “Why was your situational awareness so low?” But as his teeth sank into my throat, those thoughts evaporated. I was going to die because of some filthy man’s teeth tearing into my neck.
But I didn’t die. At least, not entirely.
When I woke up the next morning, my room in the manor was as silent as ever. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, but the light that usually felt warm now triggered a sickening itch on my skin. Fortunately, it hadn't touched me long enough to actually burn. No one knocked on my door to ask, “Are you okay? You came home late.” Why would they? Bruce probably thought I was still on that school field trip.
For a week now, looking in the mirror has felt like staring at a Victorian-era painting. Pale, haggard, with two purple punctures on my neck that even concealer can barely hide. Sneaking into the kitchen at midnight has become a covert operation. Making it through Alfred’s legendary professional kitchen without a sound is harder than evading Batman himself. I’d drain the blood from raw meat packages at the back of the fridge, mix it with frozen strawberries to mask the scent, and label my shaker: "Protein Blend - Do Not Touch!" It tasted like rusty metal and stale fruit, but for me, it was perfect. My stomach finally stopped growling.
When I headed downstairs, Alfred was in the kitchen as usual, polishing the silver. He set a bowl of fruit and crepes in front of me. The sweet aroma made my stomach drop into a void. Realizing I could no longer eat them was perhaps the worst part of being a vampire.
"You look a bit peaked this morning," Alfred said, eyes scanning me. "A new fitness regimen, perhaps? I don't recall seeing you prepare that... beverage in your hand."
"Yeah, Alfred. Heavy training," I said, surprised by how hollow and monotonous my voice sounded. "The body needs to adapt. You know the Wayne genes... we all go a little crazy at some point."
Alfred offered a thin smile, but he had that look—the one where he weighs everything he sees. He didn't press further, though. In this house, everyone had strange obsessions, hidden wounds, and unexplained habits. I hoped mine would just be recorded as "a bit too much pallor" and "a weird drink."
On my way out, I ran into Cass. She was the silent shadow of the manor, reading people like books without needing a single word. She stopped as I passed. She tilted her head, giving me one of those piercing looks. Cass didn’t listen for heartbeats; she saw the posture of your shoulders, your center of gravity, every micro-movement of your muscles.
She hesitated. Her expression was that of someone looking at a puzzle they couldn't quite solve. My movements, usually fluid and alive, were now stiff and mechanical, like a marionette's. The "life energy" in my body had vanished as if someone had pulled the plug. Her gaze flickered to my hands, then to my shaker. She said nothing, but I saw her shoulders tense. My "body language" was now written in a language foreign to her.
In the Batcave, Jason Todd slammed his helmet onto the desk near the main computer. He had just returned from his patrol in the East Side, soaked to the bone from the rain. Bruce was analyzing crime maps on the giant screens while Jason tore off his leather jacket and tossed it aside.
"I'm telling you, Bruce, those bodies in the docks... there's something wrong with them," Jason said, unravelling the bandages on his injured hand. "No tissue loss, no gunshot wounds. Just drained of blood. Are Gotham’s old urban legends coming back or what?"
Bruce frowned, reviewing the reports. "Vampirism claims trend in Gotham every decade, Jason. Usually, it's a cult or a new narcotic effect."
"This time is different," Jason grunted. "Some of the victims' bodies are starting to change. Like... they're turning into something else."
Finishing the conversation, Jason headed for the elevator to leave the cave. He needed a stiff cup of coffee and a shower. When the elevator stopped at the hallway near the kitchen, he saw you walking toward your room.
Jason froze. Your shoulders were slumped, and there was a strange, heavy air to your gait. What caught his attention most was the whiteness. Jason was a man who had returned from the dead; he knew the difference between a sickly pallor and "true death-white." You looked as lifeless as a scrap of paper.
Moreover, you were gripping that black shaker as if your life depended on it. As you passed, you gave him a brief, vacant look.
Jason narrowed his eyes. "You look like a ghoul."
"Just tired, Jason," you whispered. Your voice sounded like it was coming from a great distance.
As you hurried away into your room, Jason stood rooted to the spot. Coffee and a shower were the last things on his mind. His eyes drifted to the floor where you had just walked. Cass was standing further down the hall, still watching your back with a look of profound unease.
Jason noticed her distress. Cass was never wrong. If she sensed something "off" in someone, there was a reason. Jason thought of the blood-drained bodies in the city, then of your lifeless walk. For now, he just thought it was "weird." He figured you were depressed or hiding a secret illness. Vampirism? No, that was still just an urban legend. But Jason was going to keep tracking that legend until he found the truth.
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A/N: This has been living rent-free in my head for a while. The thought of them being so busy with Gotham that they don't even notice their own sibling literally dying and turning into a creature of the night... it hurts, right? Cass and Jason are already suspicious, but how long can you keep this "protein shake" excuse going?
I wasn’t fully satisfied with this piece, but since I promised @anabebea that I’d write it and I’ve kept you waiting I decided to post it anyway.
Dick's breath hitched for a second, eyes darting as if trying to find the right words in a storm of thoughts. "You never said a thing before? And here I thought I was just bad at noticing." He shook his head with a nervous chuckle. "Okay maybe I'm freaking out a little, but don’t worry I'm not about to run."
He took a shaky step closer, voice dropping into something softer. "This stuff's complicated. I'm not expecting you to have it all figured out. Hell, I'm still learning how to not screw it up." His hand hovered near yours but didn’t touch, like he was scared to overstep. "We'll take this slow, however slow you want. And if you need to stop? Just say it. I'll listen. No questions, no judgment." Then with a crooked grin, he added "Though if you keep making that face, I'm gonna need a cold shower after."
Jason froze for a second, then scoffed softly as he ran a hand through his hair. "Huh. So I was your first. No pressure, right?" he said with a half-smirk, but his voice lacked its usual bite. His eyes searched yours, serious beneath the humor. "You should’ve told me. Not because I'm mad—just... I would’ve done things differently."
He sat down beside you again, elbows on his knees, voice quieter now. "Look, I'm not exactly known for being delicate. But if I'd known what that night meant to you, I would've been more careful. You deserved that." A pause, then his voice dipped just a little lower. "Next time we don't have to rush anything. We’ll do it your way. No need for big speeches just nudge me or punch me in the arm or whatever. I'll get it."
Tim froze for a second, the weight of her words settling in before he exhaled quietly and ran a hand through his hair. "Okay... wow. I didn't realize." He said voice low and a little tight. His eyes darted to hers, full of concern and something bordering on guilt. "Are you okay? I-I didn’t hurt you, did I?" There was a slight tremor in his voice, rare for him, but he couldn't hide how much he cared.
He reached out carefully, fingers brushing her cheek with hesitation. "Thank you for trusting me with something that personal." he said, softer now. "Next time, we go at your pace. No pressure. But if there's anything you didn't like, anything that felt off… I want to know. I want to get this right for you."
Sorry for the mistakes, English is not my native language.
Dick's cockwarming technique is all about sensuality and intimacy. As he pulls you onto his lap, strong arms wrap around you, pulling you close. You feel enveloped in his embrace, cocooned in the warmth of his body. A soft, sensual kiss begins trailing along your neck, his lips brushing teasingly over your sensitive skin. His hands roam your curves, slipping under your shirt to caress the bare skin beneath.
"You feel incredible." Dick murmurs against your throat, his voice low and husky with desire."So beautiful and perfect nestled against me like this." He punctuates his words with a slow, deliberate roll of his hips, letting you feel the hard length of his erection pressing insistently against you.
Dick holds you there, savoring the contact and closeness. But when you start squirming unintentionally, seeking friction from somewhere else, Dick just chuckles softly. "Struggling already?" His hand slips lower, cupping your inner thigh possessively."I think we both know what really needs attention right now..." His other hand continues to massage your shoulder, fingertips tracing circles that gradually become more aggressive.
Jason feigns impatience but secretly thrives on the power he feels during cockwarming. He pulls you onto his lap roughly, his grip on your hips almost bruising as he sheathes himself inside you in one swift motion. The air is charged with tension as he remains still, letting you adjust to his size and heat.
"Stay put." he commands, voice low and gravelly with restrained desire. His breath is hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine as he whispers, "I want to feel every inch of you, all wrapped around my cock."
When you try to move, Jason's response is immediate. He growls, fingers digging into your flesh as he holds you firmly in place."Don't even think about it." he warns, his hard length throbbing inside you. "You're mine now, and I'm not done with you yet."
Tim approaches cockwarming with a serene intensity, his actions deliberate and intimate. As he sits you in his lap, his hands guide yours to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. Then, with a tenderness that borders on reverence, he begins to ease himself inside you.
"You feel so perfect like this." Tim breathes, his words a soft murmur against your temple. "So warm and welcoming, like you were made for me." His arms encircle you, pulling you flush against him until there's no space left between your bodies.
Tim takes his time settling deep inside you, savoring each increment of closeness. When finally seated fully, he exhales a long, contented sigh, as if he's found his way home after a long journey. One hand slides up your back to cup the nape of your neck, while the other rests on your hip, applying the slightest pressure to keep you still.
"How are you feeling?" Tim asks quietly, always attentive to your needs above his own. But there's an undercurrent of tension in his body, a coiled energy waiting to be unleashed. The way he grips you says he's barely holding back from taking what he wants, what you both crave. And when you shift minutely, the low groan that rumbles in his chest suggests how close he is to losing control completely.
Sorry for the mistakes, English is not my native language.
Clark slipped out of you, a trail of slickness glistening on his throbbing cock. He caught your eye, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he admired his handiwork. "Mmm, look at that." he murmured, giving his shaft a few lazy strokes. "We made quite the mess."
He vanished into the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth and tenderly cleaning between your legs. "Sorry about that." he said softly, dabbing gently at your inner thighs. "Got a bit carried away."
After he'd tidied up, Clark pulled you close, cradling you against his chest as you rode out the aftershocks together. His hands roamed your back lazily, soothing any lingering tremors.
"You okay, babe?" he asked after a moment, voice husky from exertion. "I know I can get a little... enthusiastic sometimes."
It wasn't an apology exactly, but more of a genuine inquiry, tinged with affection and a hint of sheepishness. He was checking in, making sure you were good, even as his fingers continued their slow exploration of your skin.
Sorry for the mistakes, English is not my native language.
The sweat slicked your skin together, the lingering tremor in your limbs a testament to the whirlwind you’d just weathered. Jason didn’t immediately launch into a pep talk or reach for a bottle of champagne. No grand gestures. He wasn’t into that. Instead, he simply leaned down, forehead resting against yours, heavy with quiet satisfaction.
"You alright?" His voice was rough, a little shaky, and definitely not rehearsed. It was genuine concern, born from actually seeing how far he’d pushed you.
He moved then, slow and deliberate, pushing a hand through your hair, fingers tracing the curve of your neck. No sterile wipes or antiseptic sprays. Just the heat of his palm against your skin, absorbing the residual dampness. He felt for the goosebumps crawling across your arms, pressed a soft kiss to each one. "You’re still buzzing."
It wasn't about 'fixing' anything. This wasn’t some clinical recovery protocol. It was about anchoring you back to reality, tethering the explosive energy to the simple comfort of human touch.
Sorry for the mistakes, English is not my native language.
Dick was in this intimate play, he would assume the position of a willing participant. As he begins, his hand gently grasps your hips, his other hand playfully reaching for your breasts. His fingers explore your body with a mix of curiosity and passion, softly squeezing your nipples as his mouth takes on its task. With each gentle graze and exploration, Dick's pleasure grows. His tongue presses into you deeply and firmly, sending shockwaves of sensation through both of you. Meanwhile, his left hand might wander down to your thighs or butt, teasing your skin lightly with his fingers. The sound of his moans fills the air, growing louder as your excitement reaches new heights. Dick seems to revel in your pleasure, his entire being consumed by ensuring your satisfaction. The connection between you deepens further with each breathless moment, an unspoken understanding growing between Dick and you. As Dick works his magic, an air of anticipation builds around his climax, leaving no doubt as to how much he is invested in satisfying you and himself. Yet, the evening has only just begun. In this whirlwind of intimacy, nothing feels more certain than the two of you are embarked on a journey that will soon lead to a profound conclusion.
Sorry for the mistakes, English is not my native language.
Clark Kent, would definitely get off on the idea of having you take control. He’d love the idea of being at your mercy and would want to see you how dominant you can be. When you took your place on his face, he’d hold onto your thighs and kiss your stomach before moving up to your breasts, suckling on them tenderly. Your scent would drive him wild and his fingers would glide over your nipples, teasing and tugging lightly.
He’d never break eye contact with you, always focused on your reactions, feeling your pleasure spike as he pleasured you. If you asked for more, he’d gladly provide it, but would also indulge in some playful teasing as well. Spanking your ass or even pinching your cheeks would bring out your laughter, making him harden even more.
Sorry for the mistakes, English is not my native language.
Hal Jordan, would relish in the opportunity to indulge in such intimate acts. As you leaned into him and settled down onto his face, he'd wrap his arms around your waist, holding you close. His love for pleasing you would be apparent through his enthusiastic efforts.
As you sat there, he'd waste no time in exploring your most intimate regions. His tongue would dance around your clitoris while his hands explored your body. He might fondle your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers, or give your butt a firm, loving smack. The green light from his power ring would envelop the area, creating an light power that would stimulate your nerve endings, amplifying your sensations.
He'd keep up this rhythm, occasionally letting out soft grunts and moans as he feasted on you, his desire for your pleasure mirroring your own. The combination of his oral skills and the green lantern ring's ability to create anything he can imagine would push both of you towards new heights of ecstasy.
Sorry for the mistakes, English is not my native language.
Bruce Wayne, as the billionaire playboy he is, would certainly enjoy the erotic proposition of engaging in such an intimate act. As you moved closer to him and shifted into position, he'd be captivated by the anticipation of what was about to unfold. The desire to possess you would be palpable, his eyes never leaving yours.
When you finally sat down on his face, he'd wrap his arms around your hips, gripping them tightly, and part your legs slightly. His tongue would begin to explore, flicking against your clit, as he savors every bit of your flavor. He wouldn't hesitate to use his hands to caress your breasts, thumbing your nipples gently, to heighten your pleasure. Bruce might softly grope your ass or even give it a smack, eliciting moans from both of you.
As you started to climax, he'd continue to work his magic with his mouth and fingers, adding pressure to your clit, until you could feel the waves of ecstasy washing over you. The sight of your pleasure would be enough to incite his own release.
Sorry for the mistakes, English is not my native language.
Dick would definitely be down to use sex toys during intimate moments with his partner. He's not shy about trying new things that could make both parties feel good. While he wouldn't necessarily pull out the toys every single time, you could expect them to make an appearance pretty frequently – maybe a few times a week, depending on what they're both in the mood for.
When he does decide to incorporate them into playtime, he might reach for a nice thick dildo or vibrator. But really, Dick's open to whatever strikes his fancy; he just wants to have some fun and explore different sensations with his boo. As long as they're on the same page and enjoying themselves, he's game for anything!
Jason is more of a hands-on kinda guy when it comes to getting down and dirty with his partner. While he doesn't mind busting out a toy here and there to spice things up, he prefers to keep things simple and not rely on them too much. He's not opposed to using a vibrator or handcuff every once in a while during foreplay, but these are more occasional treats than regular staples in his intimate repertoire. At the end of the day, Jason derives the most satisfaction from the raw physical connection with his lover—feeling their skin against his, hearing their breathy moans of pleasure, and knowing he's the one driving them wild.
Tim approaches intimacy with a thoughtful, analytical mind, and that extends to incorporating sex toys. He wouldn’t be someone who randomly pulls them out, but he is definitely interested in exploring them as tools to enhance pleasure and deepen understanding with his partner. He’d research different options beforehand - maybe a sophisticated couples' massager for targeted stimulation or a discreet bullet vibrator for experimentation. Tim would likely suggest trying something new after a while, framing it as an opportunity to learn more about each other's desires. Expect plenty of questions and discussion beforehand, and a careful, measured approach to ensuring everyone feels comfortable and enjoys the experience. It’s less about the toy itself and more about the shared discovery and communication it facilitates.
Sorry for the mistakes, English is not my native language.
Warning: Smut (and this is my first work that I have shared)
You reach behind your back, undoing your bra and letting it fall to the floor. Your breasts spill out, bouncing slightly with the motion. You cup them in your hands, thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. "Like what you see baby?" You ask coyly, looking back at him over your shoulder.
Jason groans, his cock twitching at the sight. He sits up, grabbing your hips and pulling you against his chest. His hands roam your curves possessively. "Fuck doll, you are so gorgeous like this." He growls, leaning down to capture one of your nipples between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to make you gasp. His other hand slides down your stomach, cupping your mound through your panties. "So wet already, dirty girl. You want my cock that badly huh?"
You whimper needily, rocking your hips against his hand. The damp fabric rubs deliciously against your sensitive folds. "Yes Jason, please! I need it so bad!" You plead desperately, fumbling with his belt buckle. Once he frees his thick shaft, you hook your leg around him, opening yourself up fully. "Fuck me Jason!"
His eyes light up as he sees your eagerness, grasping your hips tighter to bring you closer. With a swift thrust, he pushes into your drenched entrance. You moan loudly as he starts to move, driving himself deeper inside. His hot skin slick with sweat as he pummels in and out of you, the sound of wet flesh meeting echoing around the room.
Your walls start to ripple around him, squeezing tighter with each thrust, almost making him come. But he holds off, wanting to savor the moment. He can't get enough of you, and the thought of those marks on your body is all he can think about now. So he stops for a second, taking a few deep breaths before resuming, but not quite as vigorously this time.
He leans forward, biting gently into the muscle above your breast, sending pleasure coursing through you. When he pulls back he looks at you, watching you closely. "We're far from being done." he says, smiling wickedly. "I'm going to enjoy every moment of this."
His hand reaches down, spreading your lips open wide, exposing the glistening wet entrance to his cock.
"Please Jason..." You whimper needily, spreading your legs wider in invitation. Your hole twitches hungrily around his thick girth as it tries to draw him in deeper.
Jason chuckles darkly, giving you one last sharp thrust before pulling nearly all the way out. His eyes rake over your exposed sex hungrily. "Patience, sweet thing. You'll get what you need." He purrs, trailing the tip of his hard shaft up and down your slit teasingly. You shudder and let out a desperate keen, trying to grind yourself onto him.
"Come on baby, give me that pretty pussy." Jason urges in a gravelly tone, pushing past your rim and notching himself at your entrance once more. With one powerful snap of his hips, he drives balls deep into your tight channel, stretching you deliciously around his massive cock. A guttural moan escapes him at the exquisite sensation.
You cry out sharply, fingers scrabbling at his shoulders as you adjust to his impressive size. The burn of the initial stretch is quickly drowned out by waves of pleasure radiating from where them are so intimately joined. "F-fuck! So big." You manage to gasp out between panting breaths, clenching rhythmically around him.
"Yes, just like that! Take all of that huge dick doll!" He encourage. You wrapping your legs tighter around his waist and using the heels of your foots to dig into his lower back. Your nails scrape lightly against his skin, providing delicious stimulation for both of you. You feel Jason start to move again, sawing his thick length in and out of your clinging heat, fucking you with long strokes that have you seeing stars. Each time he bottoms out inside you, your cervix kisses the head of his cock and you can't help but let out a silent scream. Fuck, it feels amazing! He's hitting depths you didn't even know existed!
You tilt your head to look up at him through half-lidded eyes, biting your bottom lip coyly as you feel yourself being split open on his massive member over and over again. "Mmmh you fill me up so good, Jay! Like you were made just for me." you purr, relishing in how perfectly you fit together. His heavy sack slaps obscenely against your sensitive clit with each thrust, making you see stars.
Jason groans deeply into your neck, giving an extra firm squeeze before starting to piston faster, chasing his release.
Jason's thrusts become more erratic, his hips snapping wildly against yours. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, muffling his animalistic grunts. You can feel his cock throbbing inside you, the telltale sign he's close. Your own orgasm builds rapidly, your walls fluttering and squeezing down on him desperately.
"Cum for me doll." Jason growls urgently, slamming into you one last time. You shatter, screaming your ecstasy as wave after wave crashes over you. Your pussy spasms almost violently around him, milking his cock for all its worth. With a guttural groan, Jason follows you over the edge. His hot seed floods your insides, painting your walls white with his essence.
He collapses on top of you, both of you panting heavily as you come down from your highs. The feeling of his softening cock still buried deep inside you makes you tremble slightly. You can feel his cum slowly leaking out around him, trickling down between your ass cheeks.
Sorry for the mistakes, English is not my native language.
