Foolish

Old enough

[thecorefrisk]

Damian restraining himself from actual murder whenever he randomly sees one of his friends in the kitchen with you (they think you’re crazy hot and now Damian has to deal with random ass ‘study sessions’ and made up projects)

[thecorefrisk]

Batfam all having to deal with it (oldest sibling reader) and you just think their friends are SO nice for being so interested in your crochet skills.

(They’re not, they want to rock the bed with you.

Get out of there ❗️❗️they freaked out in here)

[thecorefrisk]

Damian restraining himself from actual murder whenever he randomly sees one of his friends in the kitchen with you (they think you’re crazy hot and now Damian has to deal with random ass ‘study sessions’ and made up projects)

[nyxnell]

one of the best tropes, oblivious reader being flirted with and violently overprotective batfam

[thecorefrisk]

Thanks for finally not making me look freaking insane for once

[thecorefrisk]

Warning: pseudocest/incest, forced feminization, male reader, etc.

Dick when his brother-wife (wife because this man is getting bred by him some way or another and also feminized to Dick’s viewing pleasure) isn’t trying to melt their bodies and souls into one:

Reader, lowkey trying to stop himself from throwing Dick off the balcony because, no, they are NOT married, who told everyone that, was it Dick, yes it was, oh my fucking god:

[thecorefrisk]

Reader quickly learning not to cry to Bruce not because he won’t care but because he will overreact.

[thecorefrisk]

Warning: pseudocest/incest, daddy kink, etc.

Reader and Jason being in a secret relationship and having to sneak around and be quiet about it but reader keeps using Jason’s daddy kink against him to get whatever the hell they want and also just to tease him whenever he makes them mad.

[1nsignia]

18+ mdni, tim drake

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at the beginning of your relationship, tim drake tried to be quiet during sex— keyword, tried

he’d swallow moans and just let out a gasp of your name whenever he was balls deep inside you, feeling the walls of your pussy give him such a warm welcome that tim swore he was gonna cum right that instant

and whenever tim felt like a sound was gonna slip from his mouth, he would capture your lips with his to muffle a sound and swallow some of your own

but as time in your relationship passed on, so did his attempts to be ‘quiet’

and by quiet, im talking about tim sitting on his chair and full on moaning your name while you deepthroated him under the desk of his monitors, on your knees and holding his inner thighs as you looked up at him with those pretty wide eyes of yours he would stare at for hours

and god, was he singing like a fucking canary

“shit, baby” he let out another whimper, closing his eyes shut and knocking his head back to the headrest of his chair as he kept blabbering to himself. “so good, so good, so good—"

you just let out a hum, and the vibrations of your voice made his thighs in your grasp tremble for a second and a choked gasp leave his lips. it was so so hard for tim to focus on anything but the way your tongue swirled around the length of his cock and how warm your throat felt

oh, and you took him by the fucking hilt, mind you. so much so that your chin was hitting his balls and resting on the chair.

beads of sweat were forming on his face, his breath narrowing by the second. tim opened his eyes to look back down at you with that blown-out look on his face, heavy pants leaving his mouth.

and you were able to see his mouth open for a loud whimper to drag out of his fully parted lips from your tongue flattening on his tip, causing a small grin to form on your lips before your head slowly began to bob and drag his cock so much deeper in your throat that saliva started to seep from the corner of your lips

oh boy, when i tell you tim couldn’t keep his eyes off you— and his mouth shut too

“oh my god, ohhhh my god, you feel so good. takin’ me like a fucking goddess”

“don’t stop, please— hah— dont stop” “fuck, im close. wanna cum in your mouth so bad”

“please baby im so close— god, i wanna cum. pleasepleasepleaseplease—”

hey, at least he stopped trying to be quiet

————————————————————————— main taglist: @sweetpeasosweet @lcvgty-4929 @fratbrochrisgf @wrldbloom @arabellas-barbarella-swimsuit12 @vianawaits @edawgz @hottubnda @onlyfeng @lucky-clover13 @tragicfiend @nyx-of-night @missmontiopath @bloomfaery @booksrcool @jaydennicole @gglouise23 @sicklyhana @klauvy @pocket-fish0 @romancedawn333 @sashadonat @uxavity @batslilwhore @oh-sheetcake @boo-123456 @ydivine @the-star-rover @slutfordpr @advline @arfemiz @freakkay09 @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger @hernersworld @starrydustedwinter @inejskywalker @seeker2028 @ksiazkowaxx-blog @kh4dij7 @vanillakirstein @lillie1320 @scissorhvnds @branchesofmagic @devilslittlehelper @starr-jazz @nightwingblvd @yukimaniac @freddiweasly @devorator666 @dadump @ftkats @starl1ghtgr4yson @st4rstuddedreblogs @em12021 @heleneae

@darkxwolfsstuff @imintoomanyfandoms14 @littlelightbearer @th3d1nOr3ad3r @psychopompsblog @wwolfsca @kaiiii1009 @century-eggg @tvhore @chickenchickenpie @fanofthebatfam @sillygayfreak @tskdeion @potatoheartsyou @faepoetry @theall-seeingone @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @goobfeels (tags are open)

©1nsignia— please do not steal, repost or reuse my work

[dontyouworrydaddy]

Kiss Land!

Superbat x fem!Reader

summary: A night with your two boyfriends.

warning: MDNI 18+, smut, threesome, oral (m!receiving), teasing, overstimulation, polyamory relationship, not proofread, might have a few mistakes lol I wrote this with a high fever LMAO, also my first time writing a threesome so go easy on me.

Bruce is sitting on your couch, you are on your knees in front of him while Clark is standing behind you. The heat radiating from both of them is starting to feel like physical weight. And suddenly, it feels like your living room is way too small to fit both of your boyfriends inside. 

“Are you going to keep staring, or are you going to do something about this problem I have?” Bruce asks you, pointing down to where his hard cock which is almost touching his lower stomach. 

“How about you solve his little problem while I make you feel good, mhm sweetheart?” Clark offers with a big smile on his face. You physically feel the heat rise inside your body, and the need to be between them grows almost instantly. 

You slowly lower your head while keeping eye contact with Bruce. His legs part a little wider for you, and his breath hitches at the sight in front of you. 

Wrapping one firm hand around the base of his cock while your other hand is stroking him gently. His one hand immediately tangles inside your hair, and he pushes your head lower gently. You swirl your tongue around his sensitive tip while you keep looking at him with your hungry graze. Slowly, you start taking him inch by inch. A low and ragged groan escapes his throat as soon as he feels his whole length inside your mouth. With a steady rhythm, you start sucking him while stroking him at the same time. 

“Look at her, isn’t she just beautiful?” you hear Clark say behind you. 

“So fucking beautiful.” Bruce groans and rests his head against the back of the couch while your mouth is still working on his cock. 

Clark, who is now on his knees, has his hands resting on each side of your hip, his fingers digging into your skin, and you feel his cock slowly entering your wet pussy from behind. A low groan escapes from him as he feels your warm walls stretch around him. 

“Don’t stop baby, keep sucking.” Bruce utters under his breath as soon as he notices you stopping.

And you try your best to focus on Bruce, but fuck, Clark is hitting all the right angles behind you which makes it harder for you to stay focused. 

“Focus on Bruce, sweetheart. Not on me.” 

Both of your holes are feeling full, your pussy stretching tight, and you clench around his cock. At the same time, you feel Bruce’s tip softly gently touch the back of your throat. The wet and heavy sounds of suction echo blend together with the sounds of the collision of skin and hips. The feeling of having four pairs of hands everywhere on your body at once makes you feel so intense.

“Look at us. Taking us so well.” Bruce vocalizes. 

At that moment, the heat of the room is at its peak when all you can hear is the grunts and moans of both men. The low, and oh so sexy groans escaping from them is enough to make your legs feel a little uneasy. 

“mhmmm fuck.” you mumble. Clark is hitting all the right angles from behind you which makes you roll your eyes back so hard that for a moment it feels like your eyes are facing the parietal region of your skull.

You stop your head movements for a moment and just let yourself feel the way Clark is sending deep thrusts inside your pussy. 

“Oh? A little sensitive there, aren’t you?” Clark says with a grin on his face, and his fingertips start tracing up and down your spine. The contact alone makes you ache your back inward, skin flushed, and brain switched off. His hands immediately travel down to your thighs, keeping them open for him to keep sending deep thrusts inside, and preventing them from closing. 

Bruce, on the other hand, starts feeling annoyed at how good Clark makes you feel to the point your mouth isn’t working around his cock anymore. All he can feel right now is how your drool is pooling at the base of his cock and around his balls. 

“Need my help, love?” you hear him whisper right next to your ear. “Let me guide you through this, what do you say?”  

You only nod once before Bruce's hand that is tangled in your hair starts moving your head up and down his cock again. The feeling makes him open his mouth, and only a hitched breath escapes from him. 

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me.” Bruce whispers, his voice hoarse.

Bruce lets his head fall back, and he closes his eyes. The pleasure makes him feel euphoric, and god, he swears he can feel the exact moment where oxytocin and dopamine are released in his bloodstream.

There is no wonder why they call oxytocin the love hormone, because right now all he feels is relaxation, trust, and the reduction of stress. And most importantly, he feels loved in ways that almost feels like a sin. Because not only is he loved and wanted by one person… but he’s loved and wanted by two. 

“So good,” a soft whine leaves from Clark. “I love you both.” 

“I love you both even more.” Bruce replies with his eyes closed. 

And you wish you could reply, but it’s literally impossible for you. After all, you still have Bruce’s big cock inside your mouth. So instead, all they can hear is a wet moan from you with closely following a whimper. 

Eventually, you feel a familiar knot form in your lower stomach which automatically makes you clench around Clark. 

“Hmph– you’re so tight.” a sob follows right after from Clark. 

“Isn’t it too early to cum, sweetheart?” Bruce questions.

“I don’t think so, baby. Look at her, I think she hmph- deserves to cum.” Clark argues with a grunt following right after. 

Bruce, Clark, and you are breathing heavily in the low dimmed room which smells like sex. 

“Alright, then make a mess all over Clark, mh?” 

A shockwave of pleasure washes over you while Clark was midthrust. You cum almost hard enough to push his cock out of you.

Only a few seconds later, you feel the warm release of Bruce taking over your tastingbuds, and you swallow every single drop of him, not daring it to go to waste.

Clark sends in a few thrusts inside your swollen pussy until he finally cums inside you. You remove your lips from Bruce’s cock, and let your head rest on his thigh. 

“Fuck.” Bruce sighs at what just happened. It sure is not the first time you three slept together. After all, you’re in a polyamory relationship. But god, everytime feels like one step closer to heaven. 

“So… is anyone hungry?” Clark asks as he slowly removes himself from your pussy. 

taglist: @calzone-d @sillygayfreak @bat1nsignia @cherryvvave @lil-cinn @scissorhvnds

[kissesforkent]

When Did You Get Hot? - CK x Reader

╭────-·-ˋˏ-༻༺-ˎˊ·-────╮

Summary - Returning to Smallville after years away, you expect to find the same awkward farm boy who was once your best friend. What you don't expect is realizing somewhere along the way, Clark Kent got… really hot.

Warnings - Smut (Unprotected PIV, praise kink kinda, perv!reader, hyperspermia), Bulky farm boy Clark, fem!reader, a lil oblivious!Clark, pre-Superman | WC: 4.3k!

A/N: Thank you, everybody, for all the support. My other hcs are blowing up, and I'm so so grateful. I'm like two followers away from 200, and I want to write something special, so give me any ideas or requests! Roommate!Clark full fic coming soon, enjoy, I used lots of the Birthright comic book while writing this! <3

╰────-·-ˋˏ-༻༺-ˎˊ·-────╯

Back in the day in the little town of Smallville, nothing but childish games, laughter, and running through the fields during summer mattered. When you visited your aunt’s house for the summer, befriending the shy little boy across the way, who always offered you his coolest toys and helped you climb trees. Back then, nothing could break the inseparable bond you both had, despite not seeing each other for months at a time. 

Every time he knew you were coming back to Smallville, Ma Kent helped him put together a little bouquet for you. He’d jog—or maybe dash like a blur—over to your aunt's home. He’d say hi to the old border collie, whose fur around the eyes was only getting grayer and grayer by the day. Then, he knocked on the front door, holding the pretty flowers to his chest hopefully. His advanced eyes would focus on the pollen-filled air as he gave a big smile, his front tooth missing and big blue eyes eager to play. When your aunt answered the door, she grinned. “What do I owe you for this pleasure?” she asked, a warm laugh bubbling from her chest as she stepped aside to let him in. “Is she here? Can she play?” Clark asked excitedly, holding the flowers out to your aunt. “I brought these for her; Ma helped me make them!” Your aunt's heart melted at this eager little boy, giving him a nod. “In her room.”

The summer stayed like that. Where you’d sneak into his room after you’d been strictly told not to, making shadow puppets with a flashlight; sometimes he’d even bring you on a small fly. Of course you knew about his powers; you were his best friend. His favorite friend. You’d cling to his back as he flew into the trees, listening to you giggle as the birds scattered away from their perches.

 At least, summer stayed like that until you both hit freshman year of high school, when you moved away from Kansas to a bigger city with more opportunities. No more 3-hour car rides down to the farm. It was the end of a lifelong era. Saying goodbye to everything you’d ever known, Kansas was a big difference compared to Metropolis. Everything there was frozen in time—at least in your mind. Clark would still be the same scrawny kid, with big blue eyes and nerdy. Someone who faded into the background. 

Life went on.

Clark thought about you a lot, but the letters between you started to fizzle as you both grew into different people. He was the nerdier type, not a lot of friends, but that was nothing new to you. You prospered in the city, finding solace in socializing, babysitting events, and trying new things around the city. Like the world was your oyster. In many ways it was. 

He still saw your aunt a lot; Ma and her had kept in touch, having dinner together once a week. Clark was still deciding his future, where he should go, studying at a nearby university as he helped do all the farm work at home. He’d ask about you sometimes, only to get vague, unfulfilling answers. 

In the comfort of your own room after long days of studying and working, you’d let your mind wander to him. Wonder about what he was doing. Had he picked up on journalism? Writing? Astronomy? He could do anything if he really set his mind to it.

After long semesters of studying, your parents surprised you with a trip to your aunts for the summer. Ditch the city life and hang out in the quiet for 3 months; allow your brain to relax. 

You stepped out of the car, stretching your legs after the 2-hour car ride from the airport to the farmhouse. You took in a deep breath as you stretched your arms above your head, the sweet smell of freshly cut grass and flowers, and then the unavoidable tinge of cow manure blowing in the wind. Your uncle grabbed your suitcase from the trunk, your thick tote bag slung over your shoulder as you walked up the creaky steps.

Everything was just as you suspected—frozen in time. The mailbox had a small lean to it, the old dog sleeping on the porch, dwindling to his last year or so. The porch paint was peeling, but the house was well painted. Your uncle had hurt his back, so you wondered who did it. “Looks good…” You comment, stepping in and slipping off your shoes. Your aunt gives small thanks as she wraps you in a tight hug. “Thank you, been getting some help on the farm. Polishing it. I miss you,” she said, pressing her face into your hair before releasing you. “Your room is the same. Go freshen up; we have dinner at the Kents tonight,” she said, arms crossed. 

You couldn’t help but perk up at the last name, the idea of Clark flashing your mind before you could stop it, and your aunt gave a knowing smile. “Yes, Clark is there. He’s still studying, helping Jonathan out since his back's starting to get like your uncles. We didn’t tell him you were coming.” The proud smirk on her face gave you all you needed to know. They had been planning this for weeks, keeping it just hush enough to dodge his superhearing. 

So you freshened up, excited to see your forever friend. You milled over the minor details, wondering if his hair was still dark and if his eyes were still bright. Then you wondered if he still looked through his telescope every night or if he spent his nights flying among the stars when he couldn’t sleep. The image you had of him was meek, still imagining the sweet and shy Clark Kent who needed a night light to sleep even though he had ten times the strength of an average man. 

You wore a pretty spring dress that went to your mid-thigh, one that showed off your smooth skin, showing old birthmarks you used to cover. Wherever they might be. You wore your hair nice and simple, making sure to do some light make-up before stepping down into the mudroom of the house. You held a casserole in a blue dish with a top lid, waiting for your aunt to be ready. 

The wait got too boring, so you went for the door. “I’m gonna start walking over!” you yelled, stepping out onto the familiar path that led up to the Kents' house. Your cowgirl boots crunched in the gravel beneath your feet as you watched the sun start to dip in the sky. It was your favorite walk, a short 5 minutes but beautiful. Unless you were in hot weather—then it was miserable. Tonight was nice, slowly cooling down.

You walked up the dirt path, hearing two voices discussing a car's engine, one you recognized as Pa Kent, and the other… well, you weren’t sure. It was deeper, soft and reassuring. Soothing. Pa Kent was under the car, and a tall man was standing, holding the car with one hand like it was nothing, his tight t-shirt doing nothing to conceal the strain of his bicep in the fabric. It made you dizzy when you noticed it. You could see the print of his abs through his shirt, his shoulders bulky, making him all the more a local beefy Kansan. He was tall, nearly casting a shadow. It wasn’t until he quickly turned his head to look at you that you realized who this boy—no, man—was.

You saw the thick, silky black head of hair, curled and wild on his head. The laughter bubbling from his chest at his father's rambling. Lethally blue eyes, ones that displayed every emotion inside them.

Clark Kent was standing in front of you with the piercing blue eyes, making your stomach turn into knots as you tried to keep your jaw off the floor and the casserole in your arms all at once. He wasn’t scrawny or loser-ish. He was handsome. Alluring. Hot. When had this happened? It was making your head spin, your heart stutter, and his super hearing picked up on every miscalculated beat. 

“Golly, long time no see!” he exclaimed, the excitement flooding his tone like it used to. Clark still had that sweet boy deep in there. The big puppy Kansas boy overflowed from his big heart that was being protected by his massive pecs—maybe that’s what they were for. To protect his big heart. “Hi…” You say shyly, watching his eyes run over you. Were you drooling?

He couldn’t imagine you looking this good; he knew you were pretty, but he was just taking guesses at what he remembered. Clark remembered your sparkling eyes and big smile, but now you were everything he had imagined and more. A dream in front of him. Pa made a grunt of irritation as Clark was slowly lowering the car, too distracted by you to remember what he was doing. “Son.” Clark did not answer, the car lowering another inch. “Clark!” Jonathan reminds. “Oh!” You gave a small giggle as Clark raised it again.

“Sorry, Pa. Can we do this after dinner?” His dad stood up slowly with a grunt and raised a weary eyebrow. “I won’t be able to see later.” Clark gave a quick reply, “I can see in the dark, Pa.” The older man shrugged, shaking his head and grinning at you. Jonathan pulled you into one of his familiar bear hugs before heading inside. Some people just seemed to be immune to time.

You heard the thud of the old truck hitting the ground again, and before you could blink, Clark quickly took the hot casserole dish away from you, talking away as he went inside. He told you all about what you’d missed. Or he tried. It had been four years after all. Clark wasn’t very shy anymore, or maybe he was just eager for your attention after being away from you for so long. This was going to be a long summer. That’s for sure.

Dinner was filled with familial chatter, old friends catching up. They told you embarrassing stories of Clark, watching his cheeks burn red. You watched as his forearms flexed as his knife glided through the baked potato on his plate. How his Ma told a corny joke, and he still threw his head back in laughter. How focused his eyes were, sweet with a pleading undertone when he asked for the salt, or the vegetables. You've got to tell your city stories, about all the chaos that contrasted the Kansas tranquility. 

The night ended with a blackberry pie and vanilla ice cream that everyone ate too much of. Clark was first to thank his mother for the food, his hands in his lap and grinning. His dimples were working overtime, and you felt your stomach tingle. Had he always had dimples? Surely they had just appeared out of nowhere…

—------------------------------

The summer was filled with much fun, and you and Clark’s prospering friendship. You guys spent hours together, walking your old stomping grounds like no time had passed at all. He still stole vegetables off your plate, called you nicknames, and tugged on your braids gently. Clark was gentlemanly too. Fixing your necklace for you, helped you rebraid your hair, unaware how it made your gut stir and flustered you. 

How could he be so attractive and sweet all at once? You just wanted to repay him in… inappropriate ways. Clark just kept flirting like it was nothing, and he was oblivious to how his southern drawl and kind smile could make anyone weak in the knees.

Dinners at the Kents’ led to bonfires that Clark conjured up with his… heat vision? He said he was working on the names for all of it; you giggled, watching him gently blow on the fire to get the flame crackling in the pit. “So, Clark. Besides school, what have you been up to?” you asked, watching him set logs into the pit, little pieces of saved newspaper in the bottom. He shrugged, looking up at you from his spot on the ground. “Helping Pa on the farm, exploring. I’ve been writing too! I flew up to Africa, kinda exploring their roots and connecting with their heritage,” he explained, totally nerding out. 

You watched as he talked with his hands, getting distracted from the fire that had now sputtered out. His lower lip jutted out in a pout, and you giggled, making a smile break loose on his face. He just couldn’t help it when it came to you. “Very admirable, Clark,” you said. Your praise made him straighten and smile. 

Clark noticed a change not long after that. Suddenly, he found himself fixing his hair before coming to your place. The other day, he had struggled for ten minutes alone to pick a shirt. This had never happened before! Sure, he had crushes, big ones even. But this one was different; he felt the need to impress you, be bold. Oblivious to how you were already drooling over how he looked.

Every time you smiled or laughed, he felt the air get kicked from his lungs. He felt his stomach twist in knots every time you wore a pretty dress. Clark had also remembered you with dirty knees and missing teeth, and to see you dancing by the fire to an old country song, or licking the batter of a spatula in the kitchen with his Ma, he felt warm. Different. 

He looked up from milking the cows, his eyes landing on you through the big window over the kitchen sink. Clark saw his mother, then you. The whole conversation buzzing in his ears. Martha saw you look out the window, and she had seen Clark look at you across the dinner table a thousand times now. “Funny, isn’t it?” Martha asked, turning to look at you lick the spatula again. The dough melting into your tongue. Your head tilted to the side and your nose scrunched in confusion—the motion reminded Clark of a bunny, and it made his heart warm upon seeing it. “Growing up, I mean.” You looked at Martha, then out the window at Clark, who quickly pretended to be milking the cows. You understood what she meant, giving her a nod and then a knowing smile. Martha returned it, kissing your cheek and heading to the porch. 

It wasn’t long before you and Clark were in tune with each other’s bodies again. It was like you knew when he entered the room, and he could pick out your heartbeat again. It was a little quicker than it used to be when you were kids. You looked at each other when laughing, and late nights were spent in your quilts as you told stories like you were kids. Some nights it was down by the pond, the moonlight bathing it. 

“Jump in with me, Clark,” you begged, eyes big and sweet. He hesitated, tilting his head. Gosh, he was so cute. “It’s cold, and we don’t have any clothes,” Clark replied, rubbing the back of his neck, his arm stretching and showing his muscle. “It’s not cold! You're immune to cold, aren’t you? Just get in!” You said, not giving him a chance to protest as you wiggled out of your jean shirts, jumping off the creaky dock in your oversized t-shirt and silly polka dot underwear. Before he could think any better, he was tugging his shirt off, letting his jeans fall to the ground as he jumped in, clad in only his boxers. The quick glimpse you got of his abs (and the hard-to-ignore imprint through the fabric) was enough to make the cold water worth it. 

That night you stumbled into your aunt's kitchen, giggling like school kids again. You popped open a bottle of wine; Clark just watched as you brought it to your lips, soaking all over the kitchen floor. He couldn’t bring his eyes off of you as you swayed, humming along to your own tune. The giggle was the sound of your soul, and maybe his too. 

All this time with you made him realize just how much he liked you. And now, with the wet t-shirt sticking to your skin, your hair damp over your face, and getting tipsier by the second, he pressed his lips to yours. He laughed against your mouth as you hummed into the kiss. Your body was electric, as you had been waiting for the moment. His overgrown stubble was brushing your slick skin. 

Maybe this is what dreams were made of. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while…” You whispered into the kiss, pressing the wine to your lips again. You offered it to him, and he shook his head. His hands finally reached your hips, firm yet gentle palms keeping you in place. His back leaned on the counter, looking down at your smug smirk. He was enamoured by your drunk smile. The alcohol hadn’t hit your system yet, just drunk on the kiss alone. “Would you believe me if I said I had been too?” he asked, eyes full of adoration as he searched your eyes. A grin spread across your lips, shaking your head. “No, you’re so nice to everyone, and you always have that dopey look in your eyes. I thought I was just another girl…” You admit, taking a final gulp from the big bottle. 

Clark takes it from you, setting it on the counter behind him. He tugged you in, leaning in closer to your lips. His eyes flicked down to them, licking his own lips as he prepared for another kiss. “And the whole time I was just wondering when you got so good-looking… and how you could be so devastatingly hot and be so oblivious to it!” He closed his eyes, wishing his lips were on yours instead. “I was in turmoil too, scared to feel these things about my best friend. Couldn’t stand how pretty you were,” he admits. A small kiss to your lips, before diving in for another.

You let your hands roam his skin, the abs on his stomach that you had been dreaming about for weeks. You felt the undeniable outline of his excitement for you under his wet boxers. His hands were pulling up your wet shirt, tossing it somewhere into the kitchen. Your heartbeat was the only thing in his ear, other than your whiny noises of desperation. 

The familiar scent of your sweet arousal washed over his senses, everything in his mind clicking. For weeks he had been smelling it, mistaking the rich smell for your perfume. It had been your telltale sign of how turned on you were. Now he realized how you were wet, watching him do mundane tasks around the farm or his subtle attempts at flirting. “Oh, sweetheart,” he moans into the kiss, your lips leaving no mercy.

“Smell so good…” he adds, opening his eyes to take in your everyday bra and those polka-dot underwear. Had you known you were gonna get laid, maybe you’d picked something different. But now it didn’t matter. “Smell?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as you move your lips to his neck, the tough Kryptonian skin taking no damage as you sucked and kiss. “I can smell you… when you’re aroused,” Clark whispered. His hand went to your hair, tugging you away from his skin. 

Your face flushed, and you gave a guilty grin. “I wish I was more embarrassed than I am right now…” You mumble, unhooking your bra, letting him take in your breasts, how they sit on your chest without the confines of your bra. He was getting harder and harder by the second. “No need to be embarrassed. It’s sweet; thought it was your perfume.” His eyes devour you like you're something ethereal, a higher being. 

He picked you, pressing his hard-on against your throbbing cunt. It fluttered at the idea of taking his alien dick. You could feel the heft of it, and his thick, beefy thighs against yours. “I need you…” You begged, hands grasping at his sloppy curls. “In your aunt's kitchen?” he asked, apprehensive at first as he slowly lowered you to the ground. The tile was cold on the skin of your back, making you gasp. The alcohol was catching up to your system, making your stomach warm and bubbly. You nodded quickly, “Full circle…” 

That made him laugh, shaking his head as he hooked his fingers onto your panties, tugging them down and allowing the cold air to hit your pussy. His boxers were next to leave before he grabbed your hips, the hard floor the last thing on your mind as you took in his length. 10 inches with a thick base, precum leaked at the tip, and he throbbed from how hard he was. Everything about him was big as you had expected. In the mornings, you had tried not to peek as he bulged through his sweatpants in the mornings, trying to hide it with blankets or pillows.

Soon he was pushing into you, skin to skin as he took you on your aunt’s kitchen floor, not caring about the risks. Right now it was just you and him in the moment. You squeezed tight as he glided into you, the stretch making you cry out—you’ve never taken something so big. Even toys didn’t compare to this. Tears pricked your eyes as your wet folds accepted him greedily, your stomach bulging with his size. Small gasps and moans slipped from your lips, sounding like heaven.

When he bottomed out, he caged you with his arms, each hand on either side of your head. Clark paused. Your breathing mingled, and his chest heaved. “Please… Tell me how good I’m doing,” he whined. You clenched around him in surprise, but somehow more aroused at the thought. This big, broad-shouldered man needed to be praised for being the good boy he is. Just a puppy at heart. “You're doing so good, baby. Move your hips for me,” you insist, throwing your head back as he gave a slow thrust. You felt every good spot inside you being hit by his massive dick. 

A whine broke free from his lips, surprising you again. Clark started to rut into you like a dog in heat, each roll of his hips even greedier than the last as he took in your sweet praise like music to his ears. He can’t believe he’s finally living out his wet dreams with you. “O… Oh! Clark! Right there, please! Such a good boy, filling me up better than anybody!” Another broken whine broke from his lips as he continued to drag his cock in and out of you, occasionally dipping his head down to take your nipple into his mouth. 

He nudged the sweet spot inside you, repeatedly as slurred words of appreciation slide from your mouth. Your sweaty bodies move against each other, your hips starting to move with the rhythm of his as he tries to find your sweet spot. “Feel good?” he rasped, reaching a hand down to rub your sensitive clit, your pussy sensitive and puffy from how he was bullying it. You nodded, a quiet moan slipping from your lips as he buries himself in you before pulling almost all the way out, crashing back in again.

Your eyes roll back as he rubs circles into your bundle of nerves, feeling you clench around him. “That feels so good, Clark! Please, harder!” You insist, forgetting to keep your voice down. His hips begin to move faster, the slap of skin on skin filling the kitchen. It wasn’t long before you were going over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you, making your body shake as he continued to bully that spot, his lips catching your moans. His stomach burned with the familiar bubbling feeling, knowing his orgasm was approaching rapidly.

“Where do you want it?” Clark asked, trying not to spill inside you from how hard your clenching him, your fluids building a ring around the base of his cock. You bumble incoherent words before blurting, “Stomach!” 

Quickly, he pulled out, his cum shooting over your stomach, even your breasts, breathy moans escaping him. It just kept coming; you hadn’t ever seen someone cum so much. He was a mess above you, his hair messed up, his tip leaking with the aftermath, and sweat on his temple. Clark was the most beautiful man you had ever seen, so impossibly human and vulnerable. Even when he wasn’t human.

“Oh thank you, baby,” he whispered, your name following as he ducked down and gave you a kiss. Clark gathered your clothes, then you from the kitchen floor before starting the tub inside your small bathroom in your room. Where you laid against his chest as he ran a hot soapy rag over your body. The wine sat warm in your belly, and your legs were a perfect amount of shaky from the results of you and Clark’s love making. “Who knew all it took was a night swim?” 

You shook your head slowly, a small giggle bubbling from your lips. “It was more than that and you know it. Your irresistible,” you teased, closing your eyes as you leaned back. Clark shook his head, a blush creeping up his ears. The hot water steamed from your skin, and the bubbles were up to your chin. He spent the next 20 minutes drying you, rubbing lotion on your body, then tucking you into his chest as you packed his 6’4” and 240 pound frame on your full bed, your face buried in the crevices of his chest.

The next morning it was painfully obvious what you had done to both your families. You were both more touchy, the looks lingered, and your walk was a bit off-kilter despite your efforts to hide it. Martha and Jonathan of course gave him a firm talking to about the consequences and all that stuff, making him protest and squim in his seat.

It wasn’t long before he was packing up his stuf to move to Metropolis with you—beginning his Superman debut, his reporter job and his first big relationship with you.

[i-lovewallywest]

Ridiculous

batfam x daddy's girl batsis! reader (also wally west x reader bc we love him)

"c'mon bruce, this is SO unfair!"

bruce wayne didn't do favourites. he tried his best to make that very known amongst the family... but having 5 boys and 2 girls made it a bit hard. especially since they were much nicer to him than his sons.

and with that meant that you and cass got whatever you wanted! which brings us to now.

dick shoved his phone in bruce's face with furrowed brows and a pout. on the screen was a picture of you and wally in swimsuits laying on a beach in hawaii, your arms wrapped around his neck as you both smiled into the camera. very much not the training reserve you said you were going to.

"you'd NEVER let me go on a romantic vacation with kori!" he argued. bruce just sighed, pushing the device away from his face. "your sister isn't on vacation, she's training with wally. she deserves a break."

dick just crossed his arms. "that's bull and you know it! you literally let her use the bat-copter! i'm not even allowed to touch the BATMOBILE!" "well, that's because you crashed the batmobile last time. your sister is always very safe on the helicopter."

jason, from the other side of the room, looked at bruce in disbelief. "SHE CRASHED MY MOTORCYCLE!" "she merely forgot to put it in park, she had a long night. sprained her wrist." before the boys could retort, bruce's phone started ringing your favourite song. of course he had a custom ringtone for you.

he pressed accept, holding his phone up to his ear with a gentle smile. "hi sweetheart, did you need something? oh, of course you can use my card. sushi? sounds delicious. well, have fun, okay? see you tomorrow. bye baby, i love you. stay safe."

as soon as he hung up, his two sons deadpanned at him. he just rose a brow in response. "...what?"

"this is fucking ridiculous.

meanwhile...

"you're so fucking cute wally" you cooed at your boyfriend's sleepy face, ginger hair pointing every which way. you were both still in your swimsuits, cuddling in the king sized bed at the beach side house your dad had rented specifically for you.

wally grinned up at you, kissing your jawline. "and you're so pretty, baby... but i think your brothers might kill me when we get back."

[thecorefrisk]

Warning: kinda fucked up, perceived non-con/dub-con (CNC as perceived by an outside party who DOES NOT KNOW WHAT IS HAPPENING), pseudocest/incest, sex tape, reader is a FREAK, Tim is also a freak, reader also has a vagina, your boyfriend/partner with penis refers to your vagina as ‘she’ for a second there, etc.

Something something Tim accidentally finding the video your boyfriend recorded of you (that you had ASKED HIM to take) whilst pounding your shit in.

Your head has been forcefully stuffed into the pillows, ass left vulnerable and high in the air as the thick smack of skin against skin echoes loud through what is clearly your room at the manor. You’ve been stripped absolutely bare of everything, bruises around your waist and hips in the shape of your boyfriend’s hands, and Tim’s mouth goes dry when the camera—shaky and shoddily maneuvered as is—pans down to your stuffed cunt, all aching and red and far too wet for what’s coming out of your mouth that has Tim shaking in what could either be fury or terrible arousal.

“Mm- mm! No, no- stop, please- please, that hurts, I’m-“ you plead in a voice that is everything terrified but sounds too sweet to Tim’s ears. “Please-“

The camera man—your boyfriend, that bastard—just chuckles. “Aw, baby, but isn’t this what you wanted?” He slid the hand he had on your hip down to your navel, just centimetres away from your cunt. “Isn’t this what she wants?”

You shake your head, your mind half-gone and thrown into the abyss. “No, no, I didn’t- I didn’t want this..” You give a little sniff, seemingly just barely able to stop yourself from giving a sob. “Please, stop.”

Tim ends up too hard and too angry to do anything more than sit at his desk and shake.

It’s Dick who he ends up turning to. And it’s Dick whom he shamefully admits not only his reaction but who ends up somewhat tearfully admitting what the reaction was to.

But it’s you who has to deal with the consequences. You who sits idly on your couch in your apartment, thinking the world was still right and with a buttload of trauma you never thought someone would make you divulge.

[kissesforkent]

Roommate!Clark who...

Warnings - Smut, perv!Clark, Perv!reader, fluff, Clark is whiny | WC: 1.4k

Roommate!Clark who... signs the lease almost immediately after touring your flat that looks over the streets of Metropolis. You assume it’s because the apartment is affordable. Really, it’s because your smile makes the cramped tenth-floor flat feel warmer than anywhere else he’s looked. You, meanwhile, can’t deny the relief of having someone built like Clark Kent living under the same roof. Just in case.

Roommate!Clark who... slowly warms up to you, a little nervous about how to act around you. He’d never lived with a woman before, other than his Ma. His small ‘hello’ and ‘good morning’ evolved into ‘How’d you sleep?’ and ‘What’s today's agenda?’ You’d watch his cheeks get all rosy as he smiled, his eyes wrinkling in the corners behind his thick glasses. He’d leave small notes on the counter, a breakfast pastry beside it for when he left extra early in the mornings. 

Thought you might be hungry! Have a good day! - Clark Kent

Roommate!Clark who... talked about you so much at work that Lois and Jimmy started to think you had a relationship going on. 

“Last night we watched a movie and had ice cream. I really love this new roommate thing; she’s just so nice!” he explained cheerfully. Lois and Jimmy gave each other knowing looks, smirking at each other. “Are you sure you aren’t attracted to her, Clark?” Lois asked, eyebrow cocked as she sipped from her coffee. His smile faltered, red creeping up to his ears as he shook his head a little too quickly. “No… I mean she’s pretty, but she’s my roommate!” As if that was a reasonable excuse. Jimmy gave a half-laugh, half-scoff at how pathetic Clark could be.

Roommate!Clark who... happily listens to you talk about your day. You take turns making dinner, and tonight had been his choice. Clark has cooked up a Kansas custom while you sat at the island, filing your nails and talking about work. He would prompt you with questions and nod along thoughtfully, tucking things away for later. 

Roommate!Clark who... doesn’t know how thoughtful he is, making everything seem like a pleasure. Doing the dishes? Sure! The trash? Consider it done. A high shelf needs dusting? Why didn’t you say so! 

Roommate!Clark who... carried you to bed after you fell asleep on the couch. He can hear your breathing soften and the slow beat of your heart. He wanders from his room, noticing you sleeping soundly. Your show or movie is still going in the background, or a book is sitting face down on your chest. Carefully, he pauses your show or marks your page before he picks you up. So much care into how he holds you in his big arms, trying not to be too abrupt. After tucking you into your bed, he lingers, watching you sleep so… peacefully before padding back to his room. The slope of your nose and the way your hair fanned on your pillow made his heart flutter just thinking about it. 

Roommate!Clark who... falls asleep during movie night, slumping over until his head rested on your shoulder. When he woke up hours later, his nose was greeted with the sweet nature of your natural scent, and panic washed over him. Had he crossed a line? But he was covered in the throw blanket from the arm of the couch; you curled into his side, fast asleep, like it was the most natural thing in the world. He fell back asleep just like that, not having the heart to move. 

Roommate!Clark who... slowly realizes he’s falling in love with you because of your laugh, how you treat him like he’s somebody—like he doesn’t fade into the background. You ask him about his day, you fix his tie before work, bring him little presents ‘just because’. Clark only had eyes for you. Everyone else blurred into the background.

Roommate!Clark who... obliviously wears his workout shorts around the house, doing chores that accentuate his thighs and butt. Sometimes he stretches, and you can see his shirt come up a little, showing off his abs. His arms nearly bulge out of his shirt, and it drives you up the wall. It’s a wonder he hasn’t caught on yet. Then again, this is the same man who still thinks you’re only being nice because you’re roommates.

Roommate!Clark who... brings you out with his friends, and at work the next day they're all spewing nonsense. “She’s so into you!” Cat explained the telltale signs that he just brushed off. “Don’t be crazy, you guys, she’d never like a… dork, like me!” Jimmy shook his head, “She had big puppy eyes for you… then, when she was a little tipsy, she was drooling over you.

Roommate!Clark who... is oblivious to your attraction, and you're oblivious to his. 

Roommate!Clark who... tucks your hair behind your ear on accident, starting to stutter, and his ears heat up. He was hardly able to look at you afterwards, but he missed the faint blush on your cheeks. His thoughts were too loud to hear your heartbeat flutter from his sweet action. It had felt so natural. 

Roommate!Clark who... notices everything you change about yourself. A new hair color? He noticed. New eyeliner idea? Clark was complimenting it. Once he had noticed you switched your foundation shade. He noticed more than any guy ever had before.

Roommate!Clark who... gets jealous after you go on shitty dates. When he hears you crying in your room, Clark creeps in, carefully bringing you to his chest as he fumed about what these men did to you. He wished it was him—that you’d give him a chance, because he could treat you better than all those sleezy guys you found on dating apps. 

Roommate!Clark who... goes to the laundry room to fold laundry with you and catches sight of your lacy underwear; his ears burn red as he wonders how many guys you’d tried to impress with those. He couldn’t imagine how good you’d look with it on. 

Roommate!Clark who... accidentally walks in on you in the shower. The steam curls through the room, and all he can see is the outline of your body. He stops like a deer in headlights when you hollar, “Clark! Sorry, I forgot to lock the door!” Clark tries to forget your beautiful, beautiful silhouette, begging his body to stay calm. It didn’t work, and he felt like a guilty pervert after rubbing one out to the thought of you, whining into his pillow to muffle his pleasure.

Roommate!Clark who... was too oblivious to notice your attraction for him. How you’d been leaving the door unlocked on purpose, how your clothes were only getting more revealing, or the way you’d sway your hips a little extra when you walked. He had always seen you as gorgeous, even without all that extra stuff.

Roommate!Clark who... accidentally let a whine slip one night, and you happened to hear as you walked by. You slipped into his room, eyes big and curious. “Clark?” you asked, and he perked up. Hand down his pants down, sweat beading on his forehead as he tried to keep it down. “I’m so sorry! My gosh, I’ll move out no—” you cut him off by slowly walking forward. Settling on the edge of his queen bed, the bed looking little compared to him. “Let me help you…” You whisper, settling next to him as you help him get his pajamas down to his mid-thigh. Big, thick thighs you’d only gotten to admire from afar, his hard cock that you’d only seen through the imprint of his sweatpants. Gently, you help jerk him off until he’s come all over his stomach, his breathing is heavy as he whimpers your name desperately. You help clean him off with a warm rag before settling on his chest.

Roommate!Clark who... walks with more pep in his step, now that you were officially his girlfriend. He had told his Ma and Pa everything; Jimmy and Lois noticed based on how smiley he was. Every day he came home and gave you a deep kiss that made your heart flutter, one packed with more passion than humanly possible. “You look beautiful… How was your day, honey?” he asked, his eyes big and curious.

Roommate!Clark who... still catches himself looking around the apartment sometimes, amazed that this was his home now. Not because of the tenth-floor view or the cheaper rent, but because every morning he gets to wake up next to the person he fell in love with. 

A/N: Would you guys read a full fic of this... cause he's just so perfect. Whoever originally came up with this idea has my life, literally.

[thecorefrisk]

Warning: pseudocest/incest, omega Bruce, Alpha (male) reader, dub-con/non-con, Bruce can run a hand through your hair and tug on it as well, oral sex, etc.

Bruce doesn’t trust many alphas enough to allow them to enter his nest. Especially while he’s in heat.

You, of course, are one of those many. Unfortunately, you also happen to be his oldest son.

—

A loud stream of motor-like purring reverberated through the nesting room. Bruce’s hands were curled into your hair, fingers running over your scalp in all the motherly fashions only being in heat could summon out of him.

Situated between his thighs was you—nose deep in his cunt, hair stuck to your forehead as sweat collected at your brow, and your clothes lost in some corner of the room. Taking care of dear old dad.

It wasn’t like an alpha’s knot, that you knew. So it would only keep him satisfied for an hour or two before he started pawing at your cock again.

But, the reason he trusts you is because of the fact that you have never even tried to knot him. And you won’t be betraying that trust now.

You ever so gently slide your tongue into your dad’s cunt, barely restraining a purr of your own when his hips follow your mouth.

It’s just you and him. You’re not about to ruin that just because your dick is hard.

You nuzzle into his hand, allowing yourself to purr into it, when he slides a hand from your curls down to cup your nape and jawline, spreading his legs further.

Yeah, you’re not about to change it all.

—-

Bruce wants you to knot him REAL bad. Every time he has a heat he literally invites you to take care of him and you think he doesn’t want you to knot him but he’s sitting there like, “Why is my alpha son not making hot sweaty love to me right now this instant?” Like, he’s feeling a little insecure outside of heat brain since he thinks you don’t WANT him and just come out of the kindness of your heart or some shit.

[blondwhxrewrites]

Beach day with Clark and Lois, but the whole time they're checking you out, trying so hard to resist the sight of you in a bikini—all your curves on display for them to drool over.

They take turns rubbing sunscreen into your skin, their hands wandering over your body, trying so hard not to slip under the fabric and take what they want. Unfortunately it's a public beach, so they just have to suffer 😔

And it's so much worse once you get in the water because nobody can see the ways Lois' hands reach under your top nor the way Clark's bulge presses against you when he holds you.

Don't even think about sunbathing, because they will just ogle you the whole time. They're so unashamed about it too. Like if you ask what they're doing, Lois will just answer with, 'We're checking you out, princess,' and Clark will act so scandalized, like she just admitted to them wanting to fuck you right there and then. He won't disagree, though.

You have to bat them away with a stick if you want to come out of this unscathed.

Lois and Clark: Please, just one lick of your sweat.

Reader: BACK, I SAID BACK 🤺🤺🤺

A/N: I wrote this while half-asleep.

[starfishstark]

Thinking about Yandere Tony fingering us while we squirm on his lap like omg….

And like imagine we squirt because he is overstimulating us….👀👀👀

(IM SORRY IF THATS DISGUSTING FOR YOU OMG IM GONNA CRY YOUR YANDERE TONY IS SO RAHHHHHH)

Yah someone take my phone away.

AGH i love this so much. wait. let me find my diary so i can literally type out the thoughts i had about this like a year ago.

tony stark is tall in the comics (6'1 without the suit, and 6'6 with the suit). and everything's proportional, right? so his fingers are also hella longer than yours. they're thicker, reach farther, and all in all, have much better dexterity because they aren't clouded by arousal unlike yours. they're sharp, focused, and mechanical in a way. (don't remind him, he's going to finger you with the suit's hand on later.

i imagine yandere! tony catches you trying to discreetly get yourself off cause your body's constantly around this really hot guy who has no sense of personal space with his captive, and you just gets really turned on.

i imagine it gets him rough, like he knows he can placate you muchhh better than you can by yourself. so he actually pins you down and manhandles you while you're kicking and fighting and trying to deny you were ever turned on, until you're seated in his lap with your legs hooked over his knees and spread apart so you dripping pussy is exposed to the cool air, wayyy wetter ever since he got there and manhandled you into submission. something about his gets you dripping, no matter how much you try to deny it.

he finger fucks you like that, with one arm bulging around your neck. Never enough to seriously harm you, but enough that you panic and try to pry him off, effectively keeping your hands occupied while his starts playing you like a guitar.

like fucckkkkkkkk like being choked by him from his elbow with his biceps? standing no chance in trying to pry him off, so you just resort to pitiful whimpers as he nails the perfect spot inside you, stroking it with insane accuracy? i mean, baby, he's a scientist. he knows how to get results.

he goes until you're wet all over your thighs and panting in exhaustion from back to back orgasms. he said he could settle you, and he's not done, honey, so go ahead and clench up again and ride out that orgasm. he's not stopping anytime soon.

he has this look in his eyes, somewhere between hearts in his pupils and absolute blasphemy in his mind. it's like he's ready to swallow you whole and carve out his name in your collarbone at the same time. he wants you to know that he does this to you. he makes you orgasm until you're so sensitive your nerves feel like they're on fire. he holds you down until you're choking and turned on and want to cry cause every sensation is too much.

there is so much cooing from his side. he wants to praise you until you get light headed and dizzy (or is that cause of the bicep around you neck.) awww baby, was that a lot? it's ok, shhhh, almost, i'm almost done, ok? you're such a good girl for me, hm? taking all of this so well, and staying so still for me, hm? (like you had a choice.)

you learn many things that day.

one, sex is only over when tony says it's over. he makes you repeat it a few times so it sticks in your post-orgasms addled brain, tony decides when it's too much for you. not you.

two, tony does not think tears are too much for you. he thinks they're a starting point. when you cry after your third orgasm and tell him it's enough, he actually chuckles at you, promising to be more gentle as you hiccup that 's too much, too much, tony, but his fingers never leave you, only slowing down. he can go gentle, baby, but he's not gonna stop.

and three, you most definitely can squirt, and you cry afterwards too. you feel so messy and ashamed afterwards that tony cranks up his praise and aftercare afterwards, knowing that he put you through the ringer and that you're so so beautiful and tuckered out now.

then he cleans you up, orders you a nutrient dense dinner, and hand feeds it to you while your favorite TV show plays in the back.

[gloomycatz]

stalker tim x gn reader ?? and they're completely okay with his behavior and even encouraging it 🫶🫶 cutting ties w friends whenever he asks to because he surely knows better right ?? THAT WOULD B AWESOME TO READ

a/n : you already know this is my territory if you’re an og :p and yes part of this is inspired by Those Panels from no man’s land

cw : gn!reader, stalker!tim, yandere themes, slightly ooc tim, obsessive behavior, he spies on you but you’re into it, toxic behavior, unhealthy relationship dynamics, non consensual touching, kissing, sorta? breaking and entering if you want to consider it that, overall BAD STUFF, i don’t condone any of this irl! it’s just fiction. don’t like, don’t read.

it starts off when you’re just friends. he misses you after hanging out so during patrol when he knows you’re asleep, he climbs up high and peeks in through your window.

he merely watches you because he misses you. wishes he could lie beside you. hug and arm around your waist.

when you stir, probably feeling eyes on your back, he’s gone before you blink awake.

then once you’re together he makes it a mission to show up every night. sometimes he slides open your window and comes in.

you’re his and he’s yours, it’s okay if he comes in… right?

he’ll stroke your temple if he knows you’re dead asleep. other times he’ll sit at your desk and watch you breathe.

and now that you two are together officially, he’s become marginally more possessive. to a concerning degree.

hanging out with guys quickly ceased. tim didn’t trust anyone near you, especially the kind of men he sees around gotham.

then it becomes your closest girl friends. he says it’s because they’re bad influences but really it’s because he’s afraid they’ll tell you you’re better off without him.

“you only need me, okay?” he’d stroke your cheek, and this time when you stir in your sleep he doesn’t rush to leave. he stares at you through the white lenses of his domino mask, watching your lashes flutter, listens to you mumble nonsense.

he knows you’re out. you’re deep in dreamland. so he leans down, kisses your forehead.

he can’t stop there. so he lets his lips travel down your cheek, neck, and down your collar bones.

“you’re so soft,” he whispers against your skin. he knows he should get back to patrolling before bruce goes looking for him. it’s just hard to stop. you’re addicting.

he’s kissing down your arms now, watching goosebumps raise on your skin. listening to the sleepy sounds you make. he can’t help but let a gloved hand squeeze your thigh.

he can hear bruce calling him over the radio, so he takes that as his cue to stop, which he probably should. who knows how far he’d take it if he came here on a non-patrol day.

he’s out of your window, thinking he narrowly escaped. but he failed to catch you were awake the entire time.

[honey-snail]

Dick Grayson is such a "spit in my mouth whenever you're sick" kinda guy. Not like he's actually going to take any time off, but he’ll definitely use it as an excuse to cuddle you more later.

[honey-snail]

Warnings: Yandere, delusional behavior, jerking off reference, pregnancy fantasies, implied kidnapping, mdni

Dick Grayson cracks me up with how delusional he can be. I just know that, during his detective era, whether public or private, you must've worked with him at some point. Which means there had to be those awkward little breakroom conversations.

You know, the "Oh, how was your weekend?" or "Did you see that email blah blah blah sent?"

Just basic coworker talk.

Except Detective Grayson has already convinced himself that something is going on between the two of you. I mean, c'mon. You're practically hiding your relationship so nobody reports it to HR.

In his pretty little head, the two of you are taking things slow. You're shy around him. You left your scrunchie on his desk the other day on purpose, obviously. Not because you were cleaning out the desk beside his. That would be stupid. You always take your coffee break at the same time because you love seeing him. Not because that happens to be when the freshest pot of the morning is brewed. Last week, when you passed him a file, your fingers brushed and you looked away with a smile on your face.

You're shy. That's all.

He understands, of course. Some of his siblings lack social skills too, so he's used to being the bigger person.

Dick has always been good with people, which means he naturally knows you're waiting for him to announce your relationship to the workplace. He isn't trying to rush you. He's letting you feel safe. Giving you time to realize on your own that the two of you fit together perfectly.

He's already imagined how you'll decorate his apartment, how he'll make space for your things, and the dog you'll adopt that will play so nicely with Haley. He can practically feel the kiss you'll press to his cheek in the early mornings while wearing one of his old university shirts, your hair still messy as he makes you breakfast.

So imagine his absolute surprise when you start chatting with the other girls in the office about how sweet and considerate your boyfriend has been, making you all these nutrient-dense meals because the two of you are going to start trying for a baby after the wedding.

You're just sharing cute little relationship details with the girls, and Dick wants to chuck his "World's Second-Best Detective" mug across the room.

Because... boyfriend?

You never mentioned a boyfriend.

And now you're marrying him? Trying for a baby with him?

Dick's first thought isn't that he misunderstood you. It's that something is obviously very wrong.

Maybe your boyfriend is pressuring you into this with his breeding kink or whatever. What a pervert. You probably think this is what you're supposed to want. To spend the rest of your life tending to some mediocre man who couldn't possibly understand you the way Dick does.

You're just settling because Dick took too long and made you think he wasn't serious about you.

He feels awful.

You must've been crying yourself silly over this. Feeling rejected. Wondering why he hadn't made things official yet.

You should've just said something.

Then he would've spoken up sooner.

It doesn't help that you've soured his mood so badly that his nightly plans are practically ruined. How is he supposed to go home, wrap the scrunchie you so kindly gifted him for your one-week anniversary around his wrist, and jerk off to the fantasy of getting you pregnant when apparently some random man is planning to touch you instead?

Dick can make you nutrient-dense meals too, y'know. If he gets busy, Alfred knows plenty of recipes.

Gosh, Dick is hurt.

How could you let things get this far with someone else when the two of you already had something?

Sure, the only conversation you've ever had is:

"How's it going?"

"Living the dream!"

But Dick knows what he felt. He may be living in a daydream, but you're going to be living in a nightmare in about two days, once he finishes putting your relationship back on track. :)

@/divinyae

Blaming a few moots for him infecting my brain as of late...