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you've affixed it there, it seems, with some kind of weak suction

he liked smart, simple human designs like these. Pretend willies, lactose-free cheese, electronic books. All good ideas.

Another good idea he'd been meaning to try was the atom-jumping technology that allowed high-sentient beings to embody cells of Earth without invading the life forms. He decided you would never know the difference, so he used the chip to vaporize himself and reanimate within your shower walls.

His pleasure center embedded in the toy you bounced on, and he cried out as you threw yourself back on him. He bit his forked tongue, watching the water cascade on your tits as you massaged them with desperate hands. His alien cock felt every twitch like he was inside you. He embodied the wall as you fucked it.

You felt no difference, the average-inchage of silicon helped take the edge off, but it wasn't the impact you were looking for. And the tile wall was cold in a way that didn't do it for you.

The alien heard you sigh and make a remark about 'size mattering after all.' He must acquire larger silicon cock technology and return to satisfy you. Determined and drained, he blew kisses to you from his alien side of the veil and vowed to find a big enough toy for you. And also to climb inside and embody it using alien technology and pretend to cum like crazy in your sweet human pussy.

---

alien surveillance bf???? hmmmm i likeyit

like for more

Right off the bat I'm going to say he's a tame yandere behavior-wise.

Yet those who know Superman probably expected that.

The way Superman is portrayed is indeed the definition of a good person.

When you don't look at the evil variants obviously....

He's optimistic, compassionate, selfless, and chooses to believe in the good in people.

He's an alien who is incredibly strong, downright invincible...

Yet he chooses to protect others rather than control them.

That's why I feel like he'd actually be a tame yandere despite the overwhelming power he has.

For once... someone as strong as him doesn't want to control anyone.

If anything he'd be as loyal as a guard dog to the one he loves.

Superman also has a 'no kill' rule... So while he could eviscerate rivals...

It's a nice change to see him not.

Superman is another yandere who has the potential of being a horrifying yandere if he ever snapped.

But most of the time?

Superman... or more specifically Clark Kent... is going to be a puppy with you.

I have not read too many Superman comics... but I've seen him in media and researched his personality to make these long overdue HCs.

Even if he's jealous I can't see Superman killing anyone.

He doesn't believe in such a thing and again, despite his strength, would prefer to just redirect your attention back to him.

As Clark Kent I feel like he tries his best to spoil you.

He's a sweetheart who only wants to keep an eye on you, giving you gifts and earning your praise.

He uses all of his powers to keep you safe... especially since he's such a target to threats.

I also feel like he stalks... he just feels bad saying it that way.

To him it's genuinely not creepy.

A man like him has no malicious intentions.

Even as a yandere he has a heart of gold... it's hard to even call him one honestly.

He views his actions as purely keeping you safe.

Maybe it's a little creepy, sure... but he isn't trying to be.

He uses his powers to keep an eye on you, like his enhanced vision and hearing.

He likes to listen to your heartbeat and watches you to make sure you're safe in your home.

If you're changing though he looks away of course... He's not a creep.

As Clark Kent he tries to be a supportive reporter friend, especially if you're also a journalist or something.

He's kind and just seems to relax when you're around.

It's actually a bit cute... him, a being capable of leveling entire cities, so close to you.

As Clark Kent he's usually interacting with you, wanting to relate to you as much as possible.

He's careful when he touches you, as though scared he'll squeeze too hard or accidentally hurt you in some other way.

He's learned a lot of restraint throughout the years.

He always wants you in capable hands and never wants you afraid of him.

As Clark Kent he watches out for those around you.

He's protective more than possessive... yet I can definitely see him getting irritated if someone makes you uncomfortable.

I can also see him decking someone... just enough to injure but not obliterate them when they crash through a wall.

It's more of a lesson then....

One of the reasons he usually interacts with you as Clark Kent is the fact it doesn't draw attention.

Because he knows if he acted like a lovesick puppy with you as Superman... He'll really be putting you in danger.

Plus... He's probably less overwhelming to his obsession if he shows most of his love as his reporter persona.

I can definitely see him being a devoted worship yandere.

He's so sweet with the one he loves... often wanting to just give kisses and cuddles.

He wants to provide for you yet lets you work if you want.

As said before, not intense.

He's the kind of guy you could probably naturally fall for due to him looking out for you.

Plus... it's Superman.

He's going to do everything he can to keep you out of harm's way.

But even if you had a partner before him... He'd probably just use his love for you to protect you.

He wouldn't kill your partner... that's petty... and he'd never want you scared of him.

Due to all of this... Yandere! Superman feels barely like a yandere to me.

Perhaps it's just the way I see/write him.

It takes a lot to make him snap... and he's mostly just your loyal puppy dog boyfriend/husband.

You could easily fall for the lovable Clark Kent and no one has to get hurt.

He'll hold you close, watch over you, essentially be your guardian angel.

Nothing will touch you... not when he's here to tend to your every need.

Even when he's jealous he probably hides it... or is a bit grumpy.

Yet you can usually tell and ease his worries.

The prime Superman/Clark Kent is your sweetheart... the one who wouldn't kidnap, the one who wouldn't murder, he's just... smothering if anything.

Yet... there's stories where we've seen Superman snap....

The once lovable hero usually snaps when something happens to the ones he loves.

So imagine if you ended up getting caught up in some villain scheme... kidnapped... scared....

Imagine if you're injured, in pain....

Not much makes Superman snap... but when it does?

When you're hurt due to being dragged into something you had no reason to be involved in?

That's when Superman snaps... That's when all restraints are off....

That would be when you get something akin to Injustice! Superman.

That's when he drops the morals at the sight of you nearly taken from him....

Blood would spill, he'd see red, and he'd only realize you're scared of him after it all becomes clear again.

But... he'd still never hurt you...

Not when he'd cause bloodshed just to keep you safe if he had to.

He'll just pull you close, give you a kiss, and murmur about how you're safe now...

You'll always be safe now...

He'll never leave your side.

Overall, Superman isn't a bad yandere to have, he isn't much of a yandere at all originally...

Yet the second a man like him snaps for his beloved...?

Behind the rain roughly rattling the windows, beneath the blankets legs tangled together, you were trying to warm your newly arrived lover with your own heat.

Dick was buried peacefully between your breast, rising and falling with the soft breaths you gave. His mouth had lazily sucked the same spot on your bare skin just above your bra, leaving a dark bruise behind.

These were the lips of a man who had sought and found comfort rather than anything sexual. They were things you would never hesitate to carry on you. But most of all, it was his cock—pulsing inside you, washed in need despite the peace he found in your warmth.

Dick's cold numbed fingertips clung tightly to you while they stroked and explored your body as if he had all the time in the world. As though he had sworn an oath to find the warmest spot on your skin. He couldn't stay in one place,and in the meantime he was tickling you.

You buried your face in his hair, and with the pleasure of being filled you wrapped yourself even tighter around your lover—completely bare before you—shielding him from the outside world. "Fuck, I want to die in your arms…" Dick breathed out in a muffled hoarse voice, burying his face even deeper into your chest.

His warm breath tickled your skin and stirred a familiar ache in your heart. It made you believe you could hold him like this in your arms and protect him from everything.

"Ah, I'm absolutely denying your wish to die," you giggled, your hips squirming seeking more contact. You threw one leg over Dick's hip and snuggled in even closer. But his hands came down roughly on your hips and held you still. The coldness of them touching your skin sent a burning sensation through you.

"Maybe you should start wearing some winter things over your suit, Dick. Otherwise, I don't think I can be much more of a space heater for you." your hands traveled to the softness of his cold frozen ass and squeezed it playfully.

Dick grumbled against your skin at your touch, sending a shiver through you. "Behave. I'm a tired man, love."

As your hands slowly drifted away from his ass and scratched along the side of his stomach and his thighs, a shiver ran down Dick's back.

You blew provocatively into his ear in response to him not letting you relieve the ache in your pussy. In return, he rubbed his face roughly against your skin as if he could somehow bury himself even deeper. "Damn it, Dick. You're stubborn as a goat."

"Respect my name and let Dick stay where it belongs, baby." his palm traced circular motions along your spine. As he found peace in your warmth, he was also trying to lull you to sleep.

And maybe tonight, you simply decided to savor that intense, burning heat inside you.

This is my first work for himm and DC muehehehehh. And and ignore my eng and how terribly I write smut lol—I just wanted to write something like this on a rainy night

You stopped him before he could rip the IV out, holding his wrists down.

"Stop it." You hissed out, trying to prevent him struggling but he was relentless, body writhing despite the pain that flared at each attempt. "You're going to rip your stitches open."

He let out a noise — half whimper, half groan, all weakness. He looked ashamed that he allowed the noise to escape, cheeks tinging pink as he continued to glare at you. You were unsure if his rouged cheeks were sourced from embarrassment or the suspected fever. He repeated the question, this time the words coming out clearer.

"Fucking shit—" He groaned out, the swears spitting out of his mouth as another wave of pain rippled through his body. "Who are you?"

He had stopped moving now, his fingers curling into the garnet silk as he tried suppressing another wince. He wasn't successful, his face screwing up. Everything just hurted so much — his chest, his ribs, his lungs, everything. Especially his abdomen, the skin prickled there, the pain was deeper, crueler.

You muttered a reply. His mind went blank when he heard it, trying to decipher the meaning behind it until he finally recognised it for what it was. A name. Your name. It was pretty, suited you well, but it meant nothing to him.

"That's not what I asked." He mumbled, the consonants slurring, softening. He continued to glare at you, or at least tried to. You were moving too fast, making him dizzy as you rounded the side of the bed going to something he was unable to see from his laying position.

"Someone your family kidnapped." You responded, not bothering to sugarcoat the truth as you grabbed the stethoscope once more, lifting the neckline of his shirt as you let the chest piece settle where his heart was, counting the beats. It was thrumming steadily, quickening for a moment when the cold metal kissed his hot skin, his body involuntarily shuddering at the sudden contact, but his heart beat settled once more. It was still faster than what it should have been.

He was quiet, unsure if you were lying to him or just making a weird joke, but the deadpan stare you gave him confirmed that you weren't.

You moved it lower, aiming for his lungs this time.

"Slow, deep breaths." You instructed, focusing on the sounds — it sounded mainly normal, except for the slight wheezing sound you could hear each time he inhaled.

You removed the stethoscope, moving to scribble your result onto a new page, ensuring to include a note about the patient being awake.

"You Blackfyre?" He finally asked, voice strained, his mouth feeling strangely dry.

You hummed softly at his question. You had heard that name far too many times in the past day, being mumbled like a curse. And even now when Aerion had said it, it was dripping in vitriol. You vaguely recognised it; you had seen it many times during your late night research, the name seeming to follow House Targaryen like a shadow, lingering on the sidelines. Far enough that you did not truly know much about the Blackfyres, but close enough that you knew there was history there. Hatred, to be exact.

It was deeper than simple animosity, harsher than just business ventures going wrong; there was shared blood, a certain permanence forged through relation. And that hatred seemed to never waver.

Maekar cursed it with anger, Aerion announced it with disgust — it was clear that this was an ancestral loathing that was being passed down generation to generation, and would certainly be inherited by the next.

"You're more stupid than I expected." You answered, keeping your gaze focused on the neat, equally spaced lines of your notebook, the ink swirling in the space between as you continued to write your observations. Clammy skin, looks pale. "Why would I be allowed to care for you if I was?"

You noticed his breathing becoming shallow, as if the very task of breathing was becoming difficult for him. You frowned slightly, shit. Was he getting worse?

He was quiet for a moment, and you could almost see the thoughts rattle in his skull, desperately trying to find a reason as to why you were at fault for being abducted. You suppose you were, in some sick twisted way. You should have never helped.

"Peake, then?" Aerion tried again, brows furrowing as he felt pain ripple through his chest with each breath he took.

"No."

"Then why the fuck would they take you?"

"No idea." You muttered exasperated, grabbing for the oral thermometer in the hopes that it would shut him up. Just for a few minutes at least. "Open your mouth."

He screwed his lips shut, forcing them into a tight line as he watched you with weariness, as if you were holding a dagger rather than a thermometer.

You were going to scream.

You closed your eyes, breathing in deeply, exhaling — repeating the motions once, twice. But still your head ached, and still you felt your anger flare once more. You just had to take care of him, ensure he wouldn't drop dead, and then you could leave. And now this loser wasn't even letting you do what you were abducted for? What you were being forced into doing?

He was pissing you off.

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying desperately to not swear at him (and to not hit him either, which was becoming an extremely tempting thought).

"You were shot." You stated, your finger curling around the cool plastic of the thermometer as you forced your voice to remain stable. You pulled his shirt up, exposing pale skin and his bandaged abdomen as you poked at the very spot where the injury was. He flinched. "And I dug the bullet out. I cut your middle open to check if your organs had been blasted through. And I then stitched you up. If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it then. Open your mouth."

He just watched you, eyes squinting as he tried to judge the weight of your words, to discover whether they held any truth. But thinking just made the room spin more violently, and he already felt sick.

Slowly his lips pried open, his gaze darting away from you as he allowed you to put the thermometer into his mouth, as if by denying you his attention he was not truly accepting defeat. The metal nudged against his tongue as you gently pushed it underneath the pink muscle. You held it there for ten seconds, the time seeming to drag as all you could hear was his shallow breathing.

You already knew the result before you had even seen the small digital screen, the square flashing numbers just confirming what you feared. 39°C. His temperature had jumped since the last time you had checked, and before you could control yourself, the back of your hand was resting gently against his forehead, gauging the temperature as if the thermometer had lied to you.

He moved his head at the contact, trying and failing to escape your hand (but he couldn't move much, and soon gave up).

"What's wrong?" He questioned, voice coming out hoarse.

You didn't answer him, instead turning to Dunk who had been lingering at the entrance the entire time, quietly observing you.

"I need paracetamol." You stated, ripping out a page in your notebook as you began to write the name of the antibiotics you needed, hesitating for a moment as you tried to recall the exact names and dosages. You offered the piece of paper to the tall man. "And, um, these antibiotics."

You had ensured your handwriting was legible, that each inked letter was clear and unable to be misread, but even then Dunk just stared at you blankly, his gaze darting from the piece of paper in his hand, to you, and then back to the paper.

"Ceftriaxone and metronidazole." You recited, your brows furrowing as you watched him repeat it back.

"Paracetamol, ceftriaxone, metronidazole." Dunk muttered to himself over and over, trying not to stumble over the syllables, turning to leave as he folded the piece of paper once, twice, placing it neatly in his blazer pocket. It had been written, so why was he determined to commit it to memory? It made no sense.

You turned to Aerion.

He had already been staring at you.

Observing you with a wary quietness, not truly trusting you. He didn't have to, the sentiment was shared.

"Am I dying?" He mumbled pathetically, and you rolled your eyes at him.

You wanted to reply sarcastically, to be cruel and mock him, but it was hard to be a bitch when he was watching you with genuine fear, his skin all pale and sweaty as he waited for your response with baited breath. It must've felt like he was dying, pain coursing through his body each time he tried to do something as little as breathing.

So you showed him some mercy, unable to find it in you to be mean.

"No. You have a fever."

You didn't explain what a fever could mean, that it hinted at another issue. That you prayed that you hadn't missed something during the surgery. You hadn't, right? You were certain that everything went well, but you could barely remember.

It seemed to have comforted him at least.

"Just a fever?" He repeated, letting you help him sit up, his back hitting the ornate headboard. Despite your gentleness, he still hissed in pain, a stabbing ache throbbing through his full abdomen, the air escaping his lungs. "Don't need meds then. Dragons don't take meds."

You stared.

One second passed, and then another. And you just sighed, choosing to ignore his words. It was the fever talking, it had to be.

(But with three separate dragon heads facing your direction, and numerous other examples of dragon paraphernalia dotted around the room, you weren't entirely sure. Was this dude a furry? You'd rather not know.)

'Mother Above, give me patience.' The silent prayer repeating in your mind as you began to lift his shirt, fingers ghosting his skin as you helped him out of it. The prayer had no value to you, and you felt slightly silly for resorting to muttering words you had not even recited since your father had died. But you were desperate and they helped distract your mind, even if it were only for a moment.

He grunted lowly as he allowed you to pull the cotton over his head, dropping the t-shirt on the end of his bed, the branded label flashing at you slightly as the fabric pooled by his feet. You would have to get him a new shirt, this one having the scent of iron and sweat clinging to the fibres.

You unwound his bandages, gathering the loose material as you disposed of it, your attention returning to Aerion's abdomen.

"Like the view, Angel?"

You frowned at his words, gaze flickering up to meet his only to find him smirking at you, his eyes sharpened with amusement.

"Oh definitely." You replied sarcastically, not even hiding the harsh eye roll you offered him. "The sight of deathly pale skin and blood really gets me going."

His smirk twitched slightly at your response, eyes narrowing. He didn't appreciate your sarcasm. But you didn't care, you weren't going to offer him sincerity, not when you hadn't slept in more than 24 hours, not when you didn't even want to be here. You preferred him when he was unconscious, when his brain was blurred with pain. When he was unable to speak.

He remained quiet as you cleaned his wound once more, your hands gentle as the skin twitched beneath your touch, watching as he tried to restrain his flinches. You noticed his sharp inhales, the way his fingers curled into themselves. You said nothing, but ensured your touch was lighter.

You wrapped his abdomen again, fresh bandages spanning around his waist, flush against the lean muscle, your arms wrapping around him in an awkward half hug each time the bandages circled his person. You were close, too close — he was able to smell the scents of your soap, something floral, something sweet, he was unable to pinpoint the exact notes.

He could only swallow harshly when you were at this distance, half sat upon the edge of his bed as you secured his bandages, ensuring they were tight enough. His gaze traced the contours of your face, the slope of your nose, the curve of your cheek. Brows pinched in concentration, a small wrinkle forming in the middle of them. The plush of your lips set in a tight line. His gaze lingered there the longest.

But you pulled back all too soon, mind distant as you advanced towards the large mahogany armoire, rifling through it until you had found exactly what you were looking for. It was a strangely difficult task, to find an old shirt that would be baggy on his frame, it seemed like the silver-haired Targaryen dared not repeat his outfits, all clothing items appearing as if they had only even been worn a maximum of three times. You had only wanted to find something that wouldn't cling to him, that would have minimal opportunity to disturb his bandages, yet it felt as though you had searched through his entire closet just to find one that had been bunched up into the corner — the soft cotton now a faded grey, suggesting that it had once been dyed black but age had bleached its fibres.

It was slightly wrinkled, evidence of being neglected and forgotten (yet its very presence suggested the opposite — why would this remain when it simply did not fit the evident pattern of his wardrobe? Why was this not discarded also?) The typography was simple, white peeling vinyl simply stating VSC below the minimalistic image of an anvil.

Aerion did not bother speaking to you after that, his mind going blank as he allowed you to manipulate his limbs, dragging the old shirt over his upper body, your touch ghosting along his skin, causing goosebumps to rise. He was unsure of what to even say, all he knew was that he wanted to speak more yet his mind was not allowing him to do so. And soon he yielded to the temptations of sleep once more, falling into the clutches of slumber, the thought of you drifting across his mind as he began to have hazy dreams of gunpowder and arsenic.

You watched as he slept once more, kicking off the slippers that Dunk had brought you last night, busying yourself with cleaning any scratches that marred your skin, evidence of your failed escape. You wouldn't be able to leave through impulsivity, that was what you had quickly deduced. And you could not appear irrational to the Targaryens either, yet that was easier said than done.

You could argue that you were the most rational individual within the premises, yet they still outnumbered you.

Fucking Targaryens.

You were not entirely sure how you were meant to handle this situation. Your mind wandered, what would Rowan do?

Well, firstly your best friend would never be in such a situation. She would have had the sense to ignore strange noises in the middle of the night. Yet if she were to ever give you advice for this situation (which unfortunately you could not ask, nor would you ever seek for you knew that it would be truly stupid to involve her), she would laugh and remind you that you were surrounded by men.

Men were simple, as she would often say. She would have been able to manipulate them all, with a flutter of her lashes and a pleasing smile, she would have softened Maekar's brutish nature and convinced the otherwise unwavering Baelor to allow her to leave.

But you were not Rowan, and it seemed as though these men did not care for your anger or your tears. Yet you could still try.

It was easier than you believed — it was not in your nature to soften yourself. Yet when you offered Dunk a hesitant smile accompanied with a gentle 'thanks' as he handed you the very antibiotics you had requested (the doses correct, the names matching the very ones you had provided), you watched with gleeful triumph as his eyes widened slightly, cheeks tinged pink as he stumbled over a reply. Yet despite the slight pride that ignited within you, you found yourself not even focusing on the man before you.

Would you be able to have such an effect on Baelor? A small voice in your head whispered that you wouldn't. That even if you fluttered your lashes at him and appeared meek, the brunet Targaryen would most likely quickly deduce your intentions. Your heart fell at the thought; he certainly would not be rendered weak by your attempts.

Dunk lingered near you after that small interaction, watching silently as you began to administer the antibiotics into his IV, his gaze fluttering over you when he believed you would not notice. You did notice, it was hard not to when the half-giant was hovering beside you, his lips parting slightly as he tried to will himself to speak to you, before dissuading himself.

You decided to rescue him from his indecision, forcing him to reply to you as you began talking half-mindedly, your gaze returning to his momentarily as you allowed idle conversation to fill the air while you settled once more into the seat by Aerion's bed.

He would avoid your gaze as he muttered hesitant responses, only allowing himself to look at you when he believed that your attention returned to Aerion, who was blissfully unaware of his surroundings.

"Egg did that?" You giggled, lips stretching into a smile that felt too real (it seemed as if you were manipulating yourself more than him, and you just tried to excuse it with your own exhaustion — surely you would be more clearheaded once you slept), watching as Dunk offered a soft smile as he recounted the story of how he met the young Targaryen.

"The boy's far more clever than me, and I hadn't even realised what had happened." Dunk complained, yet the way his eyes crinkled exposed his fond pride as he recounted how Egg had conned him into believing that he was just another Smallfolk boy. "Just that he needed help, and I gave it."

You hummed softly, tone teasing as you leaned towards him. "Yet you benefited from his scheming in the end."

"I suppose…" He mumbled as you referenced how he got his job as a Kingsguard, blush violently remaining on his face as cracked his knuckles, the room beginning to lull into an even silence once more. He wanted the conversation to continue, yet he was unsure of how to do so. He was never good with his words. He was simply glad that your anger seemed to have dulled.

Your gaze flickered down to his hands, tracing the scars and callouses that were peppered across his skin, accompanied by the very grazes you had scratched into his skin the night before. The skin still appeared raw, angry red lines that had scabbed over slightly, the skin slightly torn. Silence stretched as your gaze remained unwavering from his hands.

"I think…" You began slowly, forcing your gaze to drag from his hands, returning to his blue irises. "I think I need to speak to Baelor again, especially now that…" Your voice trailed off, watching as Dunk began to shake his head, your brows furrowing as he motioned a wordless refusal.

You interrupted your own trail of thought, slightly confused.

"No?" You questioned.

He had the decency to appear sheepish as he confirmed that no, you could not speak to Baelor. "He's returned to King's Landing, along with Maekar."

You nodded gently, steeling your expression as you tried to not react to the word return. They returned to King's Landing, meaning that where you were, where they had taken you, was certainly not still in King's Landing. Where in the Seven Hells were you then?

"Oh, okay." You replied, voice hesitant as thoughts began to whizz through your mind, only furthering the headache that plagued you. "Dunk, could you do me a favour?"

He visibly stilled at those words, his eyes widening slightly as his brain began to malfunction, stumblings of a reply exiting his lips.

"Um—" He stalled, his gaze fluttering away from you as you watches as his focus darted around the room. "Maybe— depends? Why?"

You forced the smile to remain on your lips, hoping that it appeared more fond than strained. "I just need to make a call."

"I don't—"

"Come on." You urged, your gaze chasing his as you leaned towards him. "You do owe me, Dunk. I'll forget about the full thing if you just let me."

You watched his expression with avid curiosity, observing through your lashes as his lips tightened, his gaze unsteady, fluttering to you, then towards a sleeping Aerion, and then towards the flying dragons carved into the bedframe. You watched as indecision wavered on his features, brows tightening as he prepared himself to refuse you once more. You interrupted him before he could utter those dreaded words.

"I'm not stupid, Dunk." You quickly interjected, trying to hide the nervousness that began to seep into your features, keeping your tone teasing as you stood up, grabbing his hand gently. He flinched slightly at your sudden touch, yet still allowed you to grasp his hand, "I'm not going to tell them about what's happened, I just need to make sure my family won't worry about me."

He bit his lip slightly, a small frown dawning on his features. "You're not going to mention any of this?"

"Of course not." You responded, immediately latching onto the semblance of an offer, intertwining your pinky with his. "I promise."

His gaze dipped to where your fingers were linked, and immediately you knew you had won.

This would quickly be evidenced by the fact that within the next second he was fishing his phone out of his pocket, offering it to you with slight hesitancy as your pinkies remained connected by your side as you snatched the phone out of his hands. You weren't able to discern whether Dunk regretted his decision, your attention mainly focused on remembering Rowan's phone number, each digit quickly filling the top half of the screen as you pressed the green call button, the device vibrating slightly as you waited. There was one buzz, and then another, before the familiar melodic tones of Rowan's voice disturbed the silence.

"Hello?"

Your heart soared at the sound of her voice, a part of you almost wishing to just begin sobbing, airing each and every complaint that had festered within you. But you couldn't.

Her voice called out again, the vowels dragging as her questioning tone filled the air once more.

"Helloooo?" She repeated, and you could hear the murmurings of a male voice in the background urging her to hang up. "I don't know, I don't think—"

"Rowan." You interrupted, your voice coming out more breathless than you had anticipated. "Hi, sorry, I just needed to call you."

She uttered your name in that same questioning tone, and you could hear her fumbling with her phone, no doubt checking the number that had called her.

"Babes, what— what's going on? Whose phone are you calling me on?" Her voice was laced with confusion, words stumbling over themselves only for your voice to interrupt her once more.

"Just using a friend's, but that doesn't matter. Just needed to—" You exhaled a sigh, taking a moment to recollect yourself as you tried to not stutter over your words. "Just having a family emergency, you know? Could you take care of the practice for a while? Message Alys to cover my shifts please?"

Your voice came out in a myriad of questions, trying to force your tone to remain even, to not expose any evidence of the nerves that were haunting you.

"Friend? Emergency?" She repeated the words back incredulously and you suppressed the urge to wince. She could tell you weren't telling the entire truth. "Babes, I don't understand, what's going on?"

"Ro, I am so sorry, but I can't talk right now." You avoided her question, instead choosing to feign urgency. "I'll explain the next time I see you, yeah? Love you."

You hung up before she could reciprocate any farewells, the phone emitting a definitive click as you abruptly pressed the red button, watching as the screen returned to Dunk's homescreen, a picture of a sunhat-wearing Egg sat upon his shoulders.

You let go of his hand, letting his pinky fall out of your grasp.

"Thanks." You muttered weakly, offering him his phone and a tight-lipped smile.

"Go to the kitchen." He blurted out, his voice surprising you slightly. "I just mean, you should go eat something, I can watch him."

"I'm not hungry."

"You should still have a break." He insisted. You hesitated for a moment, your gaze drifting over Aerion. Dunk noticed. "I'll call for you if anything happens."

"Maybe just for a bit?"

"Just for a bit." He encouraged, offering you a soft smile as he moved out of your way.

You quickly regretted accepting his offer of a break, immediately feeling disoriented the moment you left the room, feeling almost blinded by the stark marble that shone at you from every direction. You felt dizzy seeing something other than bloody crimson and ornate dragon heads.

The rest of the manor appeared foreign to you in the daylight, unable to discern which direction you were truly heading in. You were almost certain you had not travelled these same corridors the night prior, however, by some miracle, you somehow managed to stumble upon the kitchen.

Which had been filled by the rest of Maekar's brood.

They all stared at you as you entered, watching you wide-eyed as you tried to blend into the walls, pretending as if you had not noticed their obvious attention. You instead directed your focus towards the actual room (how enthralling, you were now being entertained by furniture), unable to ignore how it appeared awfully clinical.

Stainless steel and glimmering marble; it was truly a gorgeous kitchen, yet it appeared so sterile you were certain you could have performed Aerion's surgery here without having concerns of cleanliness or a lack there of. It appeared more industrial rather than familial, like the kitchen of an upscale Reach restaurant rather than a family home.

And like everything within the manor, it appeared unused.

Daeron broke the silence as he watched you inspect the double doored enormous fridge (yet despite the appliance being so large, it's contents were so bare, with only a few random items on each shelf).

"Made you toast." He offered, pushing the plate in your direction as he leaned against the ivory marble island. "Would ask if you want something else, but unfortunately this is where my culinary prowess ends."

You turned slightly, observing the two sad pieces of sourdough bread he offered. Slightly charred at the edges, yet the middle appeared strangely untoasted. Gods, why did you feel kinship with the toast. Just another thing the Targaryens managed to fuck up.

You grabbed the jar of raspberry jam, letting the fridge doors swing shut as you mumbled a soft 'thank you'.

You weren't exactly well-versed on abductee etiquette, instead choosing to abandon any attempt at small talk as you allowed awkward silence to fill the air, the only sound being your stainless steel table knife dragging against your toast, smearing the vivid tart jam across its surface.

And clearly the Anvil's children's were unsure of how to handle such a situation either. But seeing as they were the abductors, or rather related to the abductors, it only made sense for them to take the role of interrogators.

"Are you really a doctor?"

"You're so pretty—"

"—Can you look at Meraxes now—"

"—Are you going to be our new Mummy?"

You choked at the last question, the toast feeling as if it had impaled itself into your pharynx as you struggled to breath, unable to look at the little girl.

Daeron did not help, immediately falling into a fit of giggles at Rhae's question. But the young Targaryen did not see the humour within her question, and instead repeated it with increased urgency.

"Well? Are you?"

"No." You wheezed out, your face feeling as if it were burning. Seven Hells, fuck your fucking life.

"Why not? You're taking care of Aerion, even though he's mean. And you're really nice, and pretty. Do you not like my Daddy?" Rhae interrogated, head tilting as she peered up at you through her pale lashes.

Darling girl, I don't think anyone in their right mind would like your Daddy.

Yet you found yourself wholly and truly dumbfounded, unable to respond. Speechless as you could only just stare at her.

"Think she's a bit young for Dad, Sun-Rhae." Daella interrupted, immediately noting how shocked you appeared as she watched unimpressed, flipping though her magazine (the front page boasted the title 'The Maidenvault' and you quickly recognised the image of Kiera of Tyrosh pictured).

"So? Auntie Dany is younger than Uncle Maron?"

"I just—" You cleared your throat, immediately noticing how strained your voice sounded. "I don't know your dad, and…"

And you couldn't believe that you were even bothering to explain why you would never marry the man who aided in your kidnapping???

"—And she's just here to help Aerion." Daeron finally explained once he stopped laughing, yet that stupid smirk remained on his face. At least someone was enjoying this interaction. You certainly weren't.

And you were so tired that you couldn't find it in you to correct him. Sure, you suppose you were here to help Aerion, despite it being unwilling.

"Okay…" Rhae mumbled, her voice trailing off as she continued to watch you, her soft lilac gaze observing you as she looked unconvinced by the explanations offered.

"Okay." You parroted, voice weak as you tried to focus on finishing the toast before you, yet it felt as if your appetite had suddenly abandoned you. You were going crazy, surely that was what was occurring. Sleep deprivation did that to a person.

"Pleaaasssseeeee, can you look at Meraxes now, pleasepleaseplease—" Egg's voice caused you to jump slightly as you finally noticed that the bald Targaryen had managed to sneak up behind you. You gasped sharply, spinning to face him as his hands grasped at the hem of your shirt, tugging at it slightly.

"Sure! Why not!" You exclaimed, finally relenting to Egg's pleas, more so excited to finally escape the kitchen. You were certain that if you remained there any longer you would truly become insane. "Just bring her to—"

And before you could even finish your sentence, Egg ran off, darting out of the kitchen with such speed that you found your head spinning.

You just took another bite of toast.

Maybe you had already become insane.

♤♡◇♧

Taglist

You nod. "I will. I'm just going to watch a movie then go to bed," you say, smiling softly at your boyfriend. "Go fight bad guys, or whatever."

He laughs, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. His hands cup your cheeks as he admires your face in the dark room one last time before his departure. "I love you, doll. Be safe."

With a final ruffle of your hair, Jason heads out the window of the apartment. You watch him go before shutting the window and curtains and leaving to your bedroom.

"What's B want?" Jason frowns as he walks alongside Dick—well, alongside Nightwing—toward the manor.

Dick only shrugs. "Dunno. But we gotta answer to the old man."

The moment they enter the manor, Jason removes his helmet, shaking out his hair. "What'd you need, B?"

"What the fuck?!" Dick exclaims, removing his domino mask. Jason frowns, watching as his older brother erupts into laughter.

"Oh, my god," another voice murmurs. It's only then that Jason realizes the rest of the batfam is in the room. The voice had been Tim's.

Jason scowls down at Dick, who's doubled over. "What?" he asks. "What the hell is so funny?"

"Never thought I'd see the day." Damian.

Another giggle sounds from beside Jason. "You got a little something," he teases, gesturing to his entire face.

A frown tugs at Jason's lips. Tim chuckles. "That pink is so your color, man."

"You look ridiculous." Damian again.

Jason lets out a low grumble, "is someone going to tell me what's goign on?" he demands.

Bruce only cracks the smallest grin. "Check the mirror."

With the attitude of a stubborn toddler, Jason stomps over to the nearest, full-body mirror, and...oh.

He blinks at his reflection, eyes darting across his whole face. Eight prints total. Eight pink marks the shape of your pretty little lips, scattered across his face like a branding.

"That little brat," he groans under his breath, wetting his thumb and rubbing profusely at one of the marks.

It won't budge.

"Damn good lipstick, I'll give you that, baby," he sighs, accepting his defeat as he rejoins his family.

Dick, who seems to have calmed down, lets out another laugh when he sees Jason. Tim is smiling like the cat that got the cream. Damian is...being Damian, staring into Jason's soul with a look akin to disgust on his face. Bruce only smirks.

"Wanna explain?"

Jason sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Do I need to?"

"Yes!" Dick exclaims.

"You can't imply anything from...this?" Jason asks in annoyance.

"We never know, brother. You could've had a hookup before patrol. You could be married. It could be a bunch of things."

In Jason's mind, he's hurling a bazillion insults at Dick...and the rest of his brothers for laughing.

He groans rather dramatically. "Fine. I...have a girlfriend."

Alas, Damian grins. "When can we meet her?"

Jason scowls. "Never. She doesn't need to be dragged into all...this."

"You just dragged her in, I'm afraid," Bruce chimes in. "She'll join us for dinner next Thursday."

"B—"

"She'll join us, for dinner," he repeats.

Jason could crawl into a hole and die. "Okay. If she agrees."

"Oh, my god, I'm so sorry, Jay!" you exclaim.

It's early the next morning, you're still rocking bedhead and puffy eyes when Jason gives you the rundown of his night.

You groan. "Ugh! I should've realized. How did I forget that I tried that lipstick?"

"Doll, it's not your fault," he reassures, placing a piping hot cup of coffee in front of you. He brushes your hair back soothingly, kissing your temple. "They would've found out eventually. Plus, it was—admittedly—pretty cute. I liked your lil prints all over me."

You look up at Jason, forking at your breakfast and taking a bite. "Aww, that's sweet, baby."

"Don't talk with your mouth full, ma," he chastises, stroking your cheek with his knuckles. "Well, anyways, they've invited you to dinner next week. You don't have to go if you don't want to. I already told them that I refused to force you to come—"

"—Jay! I want to meet your family!" you assure him, bringing a hand up to his on your cheek, holding it there. "I wanna meet the man who created you."

"He didn't create me, baby, you know this."

"Yes, yes," you roll your eyes. "You know what I meant! The man who raised you, the annoying siblings you always talk about. I wanna know them!"

He smiles fondly. "You know I didn't want to get you caught in the mess that is my family."

"Jason," you groan at his density. "I want to be a part of your mess, don't you get it?"

"Doll—"

"—don't try to talk me out of it."

He laughs. "I hate you sometimes," he sighs, arms snaking around your neck as he stands over your chair. He tucks his face into your neck. "Stubborn girl. We can go shopping tomorrow, find you a cute little outfit."

"You just wanna dress me up," you giggle, ruffling his hair that tickles your neck.

"Guilty. And we're finding you a lipstick that's easier to remove while we're out."

Your heart absolutely stopped for a second. What? You can’t even hear your own voice.

He laughs. Nothing serious. He’s just worried you’re hungry.

Huh? Your voice is still raspy from sleep.

Just come.

So now you’re here, climbing the stairs to the VIP lounge. And it’s just your luck that someone is guarding the door.

He scans you up and down, then shuffles a bit closer to block the entrance.

"Hi, um, my friends are inside waiting for me."

He raises a brow. "Sure.”

"Yeah," you insist. "Roy and Jason—"

His face falls. "You’re Jason’s girl?"

"Sorry?" You blink twice. "What do you mean—"

But you’re interrupted for a second time. You frown and check your phone again, to see if there are any missed calls. There’s not.

The man turns around and taps his earpiece. A moment later, he spins back to you, smiling brightly. "You can absolutely come in." He opens the door for you. "Jason’s girl."

You mumble a thanks, still very weirded out by the whole experience.

The second you step inside, all eyes snap to you. Granted, there are only five other people besides Roy and Jason, but it’s still very weird for everyone to be tracking your movements and whispering to each other.

You ignore the stares and make your way to the boys’ table in the corner of the room. Just where Jay would’ve chosen it— away from any potential threats.

"Roy! Jason!" you call.

Jason is rambling to Roy, waving his hands around and smiling brightly. But the second he hears you, his whole body freezes. Even his hands stop mid-gesture. His pretty green eyes immediately start scanning the room until they land on you.

And then he waddles. He waddles toward you. His movements are clumsy as he tries to grab you, nearly walking straight into a decorative plant.

"Baby!"

You catch him just as he’s about to collapse on top of you. Struggling to support his weight, you try to steady him.

He lets you. Then he picks you up.

He kisses you on the nose, and all you can do is blink in confusion before he throws you over his shoulder.

"Jason?" you whisper-yell. "Put me down right now."

"Nuh-uh." He sounds smug. "Can’t."

The world flips again as he plops you down beside him on the velvet couch. Now you’re sandwiched between the two of them.

You look at Roy, raising a brow. "What did you even give him?"

He smirks, raising his hands innocently. "He said he could handle it."

Jason is playing with your hair. He tugs on a strand before curling it around his index finger.

"Why is everyone looking at us?"

Roy laughs, bright and loud. "Jason couldn’t stop telling everyone about you. The cocktail guy, the—"

"Bouncer?"

He snaps his fingers. "Yeah." Roy grins. "You know, I thought he'd eventually run out of facts."

You blink. "Facts?"

"Oh, yeah." He starts counting on his fingers. "You brush your teeth for ten minutes— you’re a psycho for that, by the way. You like your toast overly done. You cry at movies, even if they’re not sad. He’s dissected the meaning of all of your favourite songs...”

You’re too dumbfounded to properly answer. Roy continues.

"You apparently have the prettiest smile in the tri-state area."

Jason nods solemnly. "It's true."

Roy whistles. "He's got it bad."

Jason is still playing with your hair. "You’re so pretty."

You turn to him with a smile, brushing his cheek softly. He immediately nuzzles into your touch. "Not as much as you."

He shakes his head. "No, no. You’re ridiculously pretty. Sometimes"— he drops his voice, as if you’re sharing some great secret—"when you smile, I forget how to think. Or when you do anything, really."

He wraps an arm around your waist until there isn’t even an inch of space between you. You can feel every line of his body, the hard muscle beneath his clothes. "My pretty, pretty girl."

You place a soft kiss on his lips. "I love you, Jay."

"And you also make me really hard."

Roy’s laughter is impossible to ignore. He slams a hand on the table, wheezing as he mumbles something between fits of laughter. You see him fumble for his phone out of the corner of your eye.

"Yesterday, for example, when you—"

"Jason," you say sternly.

His face falls. "Don’t be mad at me." He’s frowning now, his big green eyes glossy and wide.

You cup his face. "I’m not angry, baby."

"Oh, okay." He nods slowly. "I’m sorry I told Roy you snore."

"I do not—"

Roy nudges your shoulder. "According to Jason, you do."

Jason nods matter-of-factly. "When I can’t sleep, I listen to you breathe. So yeah. You snore."

Your heart pounds in your chest, steady and hard. You want to kiss him. Not just his lips. Everywhere.

Because who decided kisses on the lips were the most intimate? You’d kiss every scar, every freckle, every crook of his beautiful body. You want to worship him with kisses.

"And you make me soup," Jason continues, completely oblivious to the look of pure love on your face.

Roy blinks. "Okay?"

Jason sighs dramatically. "Not canned soup. Actual homemade soup she spends time and effort making."

"Congratulations.”

He rolls his eyes. "You don’t get it." Then his eyes find yours, unwavering. "But you do. You get me, and you love me."

"Of course I do, Jay.” You smile softly.

Jason smiles before resting his head in the crook of your neck. His eyes flutter shut as you run your fingers through his hair. "You’re my definition of an angel."

The next morning, Jason wakes up with a killer hangover and his entire body wrapped around you.

Then he bumps into Roy in the kitchen. He dies of embarrassment the second Roy holds up his phone to show him something.

The video shows nothing but the club ceiling, dim lighting, and red velvet. The audio, however, is crystal clear.

What if she’s hungry?

Jason physically cringes at the sound of his own whiny, worried voice. He’s never drinking again. Roy is barely holding in his laughter, the phone slightly shaking.

She’s an adult, man.

She forgets to eat. There’s a frustrated grumble. I can’t unlock my phone. Stupid numbers. A brief shuffle. The password is her birthday. You call her.

The adrenaline rushed through their bodies like fire, burning every single cell and melting their brains into a puddle.

"Poison Ivy." Jason answered nonchalant and with his eyes firmly glued to the road in front of him, his grip on the steering wheel was string enough to leave his knuckles white.

The city passed fast, a mere blur that mixed lights and silhouettes into one before the blown out eyes of the poor vigilantes that got tricked this unfortunate night.

It didn't matter where they looked everything was colliding and pushing them to the limit.

Jason inhaled deeply the humid night air and letting all go in a tired sigh. He could still taste the sickly sweet savor of that damn bomb on his mouth,quite a contrast considering the increasing pain his body was going through.

Thanks to his peripheral vision Jason could see Roy who was barely holding it together and, for some reason, it made him relieved that at least he was doing better than him, at least that's what he wanted to think.

Roy's face was flushed, a pale pink covering those cheeks full of freckles and with the hair sticking to his forehead it made him look sick.

His chest was rising up and down quickly. " How long it has been?" Roy panted, as beads of sweat running down his forehead to get lost on the damped skin underneath his suit.

"I don't know, maybe an hour?"

But even when Jason felt happy that whatever pheromonal cocktail was taking more time to take over his body, he still worried about Roy. What would happen to him if they don't make it?

The last time he heard about an incident like this, people needed to be locked up due to their rather violent and inappropriate take on intercourses.

It was chaotic to think about and difficult too now that he could feel his skin burning and bones screeching in pain.

"So that only means the toxins settled in"

Jason nodded, trying to swallow that bitter taste of uncertainity that invaded his mouth and focus that they were getting closer to his place were they could think about how to deal with this damn situation by themselves. "Yeah."

But as they finally reached the final block till his safehouse, Jason couldn't help but think about you, his sweet girlfriend that was staying there for the week.

Jason bite his lower lip with enough force to draw blood, he hated the fact that you were there. It was dangerous for so many reasons and the only thing he wished right now is that you could go away to somewhere safe and hide until he could pick you up again.

But not only that, Jason also hoped you were wearing one of those old shirt of his you loved so much with nothing underneath.You looked so cute like that that it always makes him want to devour you in kisses and claim you as his over and over again or pehaps eat you out until you beg him to stop.

"Wake up, Jaybird! Roy had his whole body pressed against the car's door, with his chest rising and falling heavily. He was dizzy and yet he reached out to shake Jason off his daydream.

The touch made shiver run down their spine and settled deep into their cores, it was relieving even if it was something so little.

They stayed in silence as the subtle relief was taken over by the stings and pain, and with a sharp screech of the wheels, Jason parked in front of the safehouse.

Roy qas the first one to get out of the car and crawl out to the cold night, sweat beads covered his forehead and made the hair stick to it, his cheeks were blushed making his freckles even more noticeable. "You look like shit," he huffed when trying to help Jason stand on his feet.

The blue eyes of his friend meet his green ones and then they went down to Jason's lips, he was talking, maybe saying something like they should hurry up.

"ARSENAL!" Jason screamed, doing his best to not wince in pain." We need to get going."

"Y-yes, you right."

-

Was it the way they were so close? , maybe the fact that his dear pal was holding him with so much care that made Jason's inside to twitch with the same intensity they did when you acted the same towards him?

Those questions were eating up his drugged brain as if everything weren't confusing enough for him to want to vomit.

This night was a mistake, they should've called for backup or made a deal with Poison Ivy herself in order to prevent this madness. It made Jason's blood boil to admit his defeat.

"We're here," Jason heard Roy's raspy voice announce jusy before he dropped him right beside the door. He was between the wall and the redhead who was still holding his weight by using his leg and arms as he looked for the best place to leave him.

Jason breathed slowly, intoxicated by the smell of Roy, a mix of sweat and sickly sweet love hex." Hey," he called weekly," let me go, I need to find the antidote."

Roy nodded albeit his doubts." Okay," that's all he said, but didn't move as he realized how close their were.

Their gaze were set on the other, lips part away as the world slowed down and made the pain fade away and be replaced by a need to take it all out by using each other.

A shaky hand came to rest on Jason's face, he closed his eyes shut, unsure of what's to come and yet accepting the kiss that made his cock twitch with eagerness.

An innocent kiss turned in something more and before they knew it curious hands were roaming each other bodies and taking off clothes in their way.

"This is wrong," Jason said with a breathy moan, unable to stop his hips from grinding against Roy's crotch." (Y/n)…my-my, ah!, my girlfriend is here."

"What?" Roy panted as he battled to take Jason's pants off, but since he was unable to he just decided to stroke him over the fabric. "I don't know if it's safe for her to be here right know."

"I know." Jason sighed in Roy's neck before taking the duty to form a hickey in that sweet spot that made him mewl.

It took a few second before a call that left them both cold." Jason!" The words were stern with tint of hurt and utterly confusion hiding underneath. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Fuck," was the only thing Jason murmured, pressing his head on Roy's shoulder before he pushed him away and revealed himself to you.

The sight made you gasp, taking a few steps back as your eyes scanned up and down your boyfriend. The top part of his suit was gone and even in the dim light of the living room you could notice the tent going on inside his pants.

You opened and closed your mouth a few times unsure of what to say, tears were starting to prick your eyes as you were ready to pack your things and leave." No, no,no" Jason hurried to your side to trap you in his arms and sooth you once he realized that you were about to cry.

Jason peppered your face in kisses as he kept apologizing, ignoring your complains and resistance. "Let me go, Jason." You demanded, trying to push him away to no avail since Jason's grip on you was strong enough to keep you in place.

Hearing you say his name was delightful. "Baby please," and there was the electricity again running through his body and making the knot in his stomach to tighten.

"Don't baby me!" you kicked and his grip tightened around you." Let me go, Jason!"

"I can't" his stubburness made you scream.It pained him to see you like this so distresses and hurt and knowing that he caused all of this will sureley kill him after eveything is done, but it feels so good having you in his arms, sure you're kicking and tossing but if he keeps you close enough he can put all that friction in the place he needed the most.

It was sickening to take advantge of your pain like this, but Jason needed it more than anything.

"How could you?" You sobbed after a while fighting Jason, you sounded tired, defeated and he was attacking your neck with kisses, sucking and nibbling on the tender skin as if you didn't spent the last minutes trying to get him off of you.

"I know this looks bad, but I'll explain everything later. I promise." Jason pushed away lightly from you, making sure to not left you room to run away by grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look at him." But I need your help, we both need it."

and then you felt it: a warm touch on your waist. It made you hold your breath as Roy's fingers sunk in the soft skin covered by a thin t-shirt.

Your heart was beating so hard that it might explode at any second," I wish we could've done this in other way, but we need you." Roy said as he licked your earlobe. You could only whimper in response, lookin up at Jason with pleading eyes.

A knot was caught up in your throat as you did your best to keep yourself firm and say no, Jason wasn't having none of it.

He pushed your legs apart by putting his own in the middle, making you sink in it as grind on you."You know we'd never hurt you,"

Fog was starting to clog your brain as the world started to spin. Jason's words were a mere whisper at this point now that they both were grinding on you.

"please stop" your panties were wet by all the attention you were getting, it was overwhelming.

Your whole body was set on fire and the only way you could save yourself the pain of need crawling into your core was to give in to your captors desire, much to your own dismay.

It was wrong, you were mad at them both for betraying your trust, for using you as a toy. But why did you nod when Jason asked you to be a good girl for them again?

You didn't remember a 'yes' leaving your mouth nor nodding, everything was confusing, but now that you were being pushed down at Roy's hips level the only thing you could do was cry.

"Shhh baby everything is gonna be okay, right Jaybird?" Roy's big hand was stroking your head, you sniffled, not daring to open up your eyes.

The sound of pants unzipping made you shiver, was it excitement or fear? Perhaps a sickening mix of both that made you freeze in the spot.

"Yes, now open up and show Roy how good you are, doll," you were met by Roy's hard cock poking your face, the tip was a furious pink and leaking with pre-cum that Jason forced you to lick.

Trembling hands grabbed his dick, unsure what to do next" ahhh," a groan of pure relief left Roy's lips once you started to bob your head up and down the shaft, even though you were doing it clumsily.

He didn't care, as long as he could fuck something and get the pollen out of his system everything was more than valid on his book.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself," Jason said as he keep pushing your head forward, his gaze burnt with pure, raw lust at the sight in front of him.

He always has been someone rather close when it came to relationships, not daring to share his partner with anyone else but him.

He was greedy and yet he was jacking off to the sight of his pretty princess giving a blowjob to his best friend.

How sinful, how infuriating…he wanted a feel too, to make the pain go away and fuck all night."I am," Roy had his head bent with a sly smirk that could make the most holy man blush.

This was his fault, no, you both were the cause of Jason's hormones to be at the edge right now. The cockiness and innocence mixed together and pumping full of lust that he had to get rid off.

"That's good." You gagged as the little space tou had to do your chore was cut by the eagerness of a kiss shared between your boyfriend and his friend.

You looked up between teary eyes and drool running down your chin how immersed they both were, and it was then how you noticed that the grip they had on you was gone, but even then Roy was fucking your mouth in such way that it was clear you were something like a fleshlight to him.

His moans were drowned in Jason's lips, "fuck yes!" Roy cried in bliss as his warm cum fell down from the tip to your tongue and then drooled down to your chin.

"What's wrong, baby?" Roy cooed in a breathy sight once he dared to look down at you, happy to see how messy you looked underneath them. "You okay?"

Thanks to that Jason looked down too,"You want some attention too, princess?" there was something similar they both shared beyond the plumped lips and the pity in their voices.

They were looking you like prey with their blown out pupils and a appetite for more." Maybe that's why she's been acting so feisty."

Their eyes locked together and you could almost see the light bulbs turning on on top of their head as a mischievous idea appeared.

"(Y/n)?"

"Yeah?" You sniffled not daring to get your eyes off of the ground, it seemed that your obedience was appealing to them.

Those puffy red eyes and pouty lips were irresistible" Go lay down." Jason kissed your forehead, the only tender gesture you've received so far.

Walking towards the bed had you paranoid, not because it was too far, the bed was a few steps away from you as it lied in the middle of the living room next to the table were Jason cleaned all his guns.

It was because you could feel their eyes burning in your back with all the pent up expectations they've set on you.

"Good girl," Jason followed you quickly, sitting in front of you and putting his hands on top of your trembling knees." Now spread those legs for me."

"Jason-"

"Shhhh it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you." He kissed your knee with a chaste kiss before he pulled them apart himself. Jason kissed and nibbled at the skin of your inner thighs." I just want you to make you feel good, just like you did Roy. Is that so bad?"

Any word you could've said died in your lips due the feeling of your panties getting pushed aside in order for Jason to be able to play with your slick, paying attention to your clit for a while before putting his mouth to work.

His pace was agonizingly slow and steady, you knew Jason was a tease thanks to all the times you've been together. He liked to put you on edge until you're begging for your release.

"Oh look at her! She's trying hard to not moan." Roy held you from behind; he chuckled at the sight, ruffling your hair as he said." Maybe you like this more than you want to admit, princess. It's okay, not everyone is vocal."

Jason's laugh send vibrations to your core, "Get your ass here and return the favor, Roy." and with that Jason.

The loss of contact made you whimper, why did it hurt to not be touched even though you've been desiring this in the first place? Apparently you weren't the only one who seemed to be in agony.

"On your hands and knees." The hunger was back and it was taking every fiber of Jason to not put you in position himself. It was game: how long can Jason last without losing control?

Putting aside the rather faul situation he and Roy got themselves into, he would like to think he has done far better than what this damn poison could allow him to.

His hand spanked your ass hard enough to make you wail, Jason grabbed a handful of it."Nice, now I want you to eat her out as I fuck her, okay?"

"What?," Roy bickered." I want a feel too, Jason."

"Really?" Jason teased your entrance with his cock, rubbing the head up and down as he didn't moved his gaze from Roy." I've been rather sharing tonight, but I don't want you to forget that she's my girlfriend so I get to fuck her first."

A sharp moan was heard all over the room as Jason thrust into you with a cocky grin to prove Roy is point.

"You're a bitch, Todd."

"You're going to make me cry." Jason without stopping fucking your pussy, his grip on your hips was so strong you were sure it'd leave bruises.

Roy rolled his eyes but still got in his knees to try his best to suck on your clit despite Jason's balls were hitting it.

He sucked with eagerness and without a care to get all messy, Roy's only purpose right now was to serve you both.

"Oh my-" you whimpered as you grabbed the sheets in dear life. You felt full with Jason fucking you and now the sloppy feeling of Roy sucking on your throbbing clit was sending you over the edge.

And when you thought you might get to cum the contact was lost." Who's the bitch now?" You heard Jason snicker with one of his cocky smiles.

Beneath you there was Roy with a mouthful of Jason's sloppy cock, the redhead had to take a while to not gag at the sudden chance, a break cut short by Jason picking up the pace and start fucking his mouth.

Jason grunted, reaching clumsily your breats to play with them as he kept going. Sure it was less satisfying than having him fucking your neglected cunt, but it was something.

As for Roy he seemed to be invested in it, beating his own dick as he sucked his friend's cock like his life dependent on it.

"Wait, wait a moment," Jason panted," I want to finish inside of her."

"I-I'm not on the pill," you warned, turning ado to see Jason's hungry eyes looking back at you. A hin of excitement arose deep inside your abused core." Jason I-"

"We'll resolve that later." After a whine from Roy, Jason didn't wasted time to pick up where he left and put you over the edge again.

He was merciless, only focusing to get himself off and nothing else. Something quite different from the Jason you know, another thing to add in the long list of oddities this night has brought you.

"Fuck!" Jason groaned, grabbing your hair to pull you closer to him and thrust deeper. He was on cloud nine with a face contorted in pleasure and a melody of moans leaving him.

The pain of Poison Ivy's little hex might hurt like bitch, but God he would be lying if didn't admit how good was to fuck when you were high on it.

Waves of pleasure crashed over Jason again and again until he couldn't hold it anymore and let his cum spill deep inside of you with a moan.

Jason was happy, still riding the high as he lied on the bed and pulled your sweaty body on top of him." You were so good to us, princess ," he praised you with a little smile before kissing your forehead.

"Hey Roy!" Jason called, receiving a groan from the redhead who was lying lip at his feet." You wanna taste my cum?"

"What kind of question is that, Todd? Geez, i know we've been acting crazy tonight but-"

"Yes or no."

"Maybe." Roy mumbled with his eyes glued to that fan running slowly on the ceiling, his cheeks were blushed.

"Come here and clean this mess then," Jason patted you thigh and was content with watching Roy crawl to you and get ready to work.

They were small movements but it was enough to make his breath to hitch as exciment grew inside of him and made him crave more. Roy could notice that by the way his hard dick throb against your ass.

He sighed annoyed, You look so peaceful and pretty in your slumber, he doesn't want to bother you by using your limp body to satisfy his lust.

It's selfish and he knows that but fuck it feels so good to play with your bare pussy! He doesn't want to stop.

making sure to not apply much pressure so you won't wake up .

A shaky breath escapes your plumped lips as Roy runs up and down his index finger through your wet core, playing with your clit mindlessly as he grinds against you.

"Go back to sleep, baby. Everything's fine." Roy mumbles as he notices you moving while he was trying to take your panties off

"What?" You groan, stirring softly and turning to see your boyfriend who meets you with a sweet kiss on your temple. He pulls you closer to him, shushing your questions as he rubs his hard cock against your slick folds.

"I'm sorry, baby." Roy continues to mumble between breathy moans and curse words, way too immersed in his own pleasure.

" I need to feel, I need to be inside of you," he whines, grabbing his dick with one hand  and rubbing the tip against your entrance." Please let me fuck you."

He doesn't wait for an answer though, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," that's all Roy says now that's he's completely inside of you, making you feel full in your hazy state.

Roy grabs you by the waist to have better control of his movements, thrusting in a slow pace that makes him groan in pleasure.

"You feel so good," he whines as he hides his face in the crook of your neck, licking and kissing the soft flesh and covering it with hickeys.

The hand that was grabbing your waist goes lower and rubs you throbbing clit, Roy swears he saw heaven when he heard your breath get stuck on your throat followed by such a pretty whimper that made him throb.

" Roy?" He grunted, stopping for a moment when your walls clenched around him.

"Say it again," Roy begged, hips losing control for an instant. The way his name rolled of off your lips was enchanting, sending him over the edge and wanting him to go harder on you.

He stopped himself from doing so, he has taken so much already that the least thing he could do was fucking you slowly  and take his time to enjoy this moment between you two.

" Roy." And that was it took for him to finally release inside of you and paint your cunt with his seed.

With a chuckle you caress the tip with your thumb, using the pre cum as lube to ran your fingers up and down his dick. "You want more?" He nods, arching his back. "No, I need to hear you. Use your words."

"I need more, please." Dick whines defeated, the air getting stuck on his throat once he felt the warm and wet feeling of your tongue licking his shaft, he hissed softly, unable to keep himself steady.

"That's better, good boy." You smile up to him while stroking his thigh before taking his cock in your mouth, swirling your tongue around him.

Dick threw his head back and let out a hitched sigh, "thank you, oh!" He moaned, trusting his hips towards you with need, so much so that after a while of being on cloud nine Dick cums with a cry and his hand tugging on your hair.

A mix of cum and saliva runs down your mouth as you take his soft dick out of your mouth.

" you did so good, baby!" you cherish him, going up to press and soft kiss on his lips that's welcomed and deepened, pulling you in for a hug that makes you both fall down on the bed.

"Let me repay you." Dick pleads with a sweet smile that only grew bigger when you accepted his proposition.

-----

Your head is pressed in the soft pillows, your back is arched and your legs are resting on Dick's shoulders as he eats out your pussy like a starving man.

He went for it fast, not wasting time on games as his only goal was to get to play with that pretty cunt of yours. "Look how wet you are" he chuckled as he took off your soaked panties.

And after that, his lips and tongue were attacking you mercilessly.

"Ah! Dick!" You moaned as his warm tongue flickered against your clit, pumping his fingers into your hole.

Warnings: spoilers for Titans S1, S2, and S3 if you haven’t seen the show before and want to watch it unspoiled, this is set during S3 when the Titans are staying at Wayne Manor, passing mentions of Gar’s trauma (him being killed during Trigon, him being kidnapped by Cadmus, his parents’ death), dom/sub dynamics - Gar is more submissive and the reader is more dominant, the reader calls Gar ‘baby boy’, the reader and Gar have an implied pre-established relationship, Gar (kind of) goes into subspace but it’s not explicitly mentioned or described as such, the reader has a vagina, penis in vagina sex, the reader rides Gar, overstimulation - the reader rides Gar through his orgasm and overstimulates him, possibly dubcon - the reader oversimulates Gar when he is not expecting it and he’s in a murky headspace but he does enjoy it and it’s stated in the narrative that he does not want it to stop (hence, the title), finger sucking (Gar sucks on the reader’s finger), unprotected sex, sloppy sex, hopefully that is everything. Just know that this is in line with my usual brand of filth.

A/N: One of my favourite smut tropes (kinks?) is riding a guy through his orgasm and overstimulating him - vastly underutilized. And I randomly got thinking about this + Gar this morning, so have this. I missed my green haired boyfriend, so there will definitely be more smut with him coming soon (I am thinking some stuff with virgin!Gar maybe? let me know what you think of that idea lmao)

...

Gar was someone who had experienced a lot of hardship in his life. 

His parents dying when he was still so young, him suddenly having a set of metahuman powers that he wasn’t prepared for - powers that he was kind of terrified of and definitely didn’t know how to use responsibly. Him literally being murdered by his dearest friends while they were under mind control, and then being brought back again and having to heal from the mental and physical injuries. The severe medical torture and resulting mental shitshow that Cadmus had put him through. 

It was a lot to have to push down during everyday life, having to pretend he was okay - having to put up a front for everyone else when they simply assumed that he was. 

But there were a lot of times when he could forget about all that. Times when he wasn’t actively suppressing his trauma because you made things okay - because you distracted him in the absolute best ways. Times when he thought that literally everything in life was just perfect. And most of those times were when you were on top of him like this. 

He would consider this nothing short of literal heaven. 

The feeling of your sweet, wet cunt clenching down on him as he laid flat on his back, splayed out on one of the many luxurious beds of Wayne Manor. 

(“You need to relax.” You had told him, taking him by the hand and dragging him into the random bedroom. “You’re worrying way too much about everyone else right now. Someone needs to take care of you.”) 

And while he had not at all put up any physical resistance against you, pliant under your touch as usual, that conversation had originally started out as him protesting against your thesis. He had told you that: no, he was worrying just the right amount about everyone else, that they needed him. But his protests had quickly died down when you shoved him back onto the bed and drowned out his voice with your tongue. 

Gar always had a very hard time saying no to you. 

He wasn’t sure if it was selfishly motivated. From the outside looking in, others probably say that it was. Considering that he was a guy, and you were just as horny as him - he never felt the need to say no to you. Especially considering the fact that he had never felt a greater sensation than that of your wet pussy surrounding his cock. 

And usually with the promise of that dangling over his head, you had gotten him to do a great number of compromising things, both minuscule and potentially life changing. Or perhaps it was because you were the sweetest little vixen that had captured his heart. And any time you batted your eyes and asked him to do something in that sweet voice, you might as well have been casting a spell on him. 

And he knew that it wasn’t just a weak spot he had for you. 

You had worked that magic on Conner and Jason before. Gar was actively working under the firm belief that if you simply approached Jason and asked him to stop killing people nicely please, then he would take off the Red Hood mask and surrender himself politely, no questions asked. 

But all of that was the farthest thing from his mind as you bounced on his cock. 

With your hands sitting on his shoulders, your nails digging into his bare skin. His shirt had been lost at some point while his pants were shucked off around his ankles and caught up against his shoes. But he could barely even focus on his lack of nakedness or your own because he was obsessively caught in the feeling of your cunt warmly hugging around his hard cock. 

Though he was slightly wishing that your shirt was off, but far too pussy drunk to simply reach out and lift it off so he could enjoy the sway of your tits in his face without obstruction. 

You were a perfect wet vice around him, leaking wetness down over his heavy balls and smearing it up over his stomach as you bounced. And all Gar could really do was take a gentle hold on your hips and appreciate the ride. His face was absolutely knit with pleasure in a way that made you giggle with delight, watching his almost caveman-like expression of tight brows and a heavy set jaw as he stared at the place where you were joined with utterly intense concentration. 

You had never seen a prettier man in all your days - those big brown eyes entirely rapt with pleasure, soft lips and a glisten of sweat across his skin that made you even more intent on ruining him. 

“You gonna cum for me, baby boy?” Your voice laced around the words, breathy yet so commanding, so strong, holding the power over him as you always did. 

It was enough to send a rumble through Gar’s chest, a sharp echo of pleasure from your words. 

That was the sacred question. 

Of course, Gar never wanted it to end. Ultimately, he just wanted to stay like this forever - buried deep in your sweet cunt, feeling that intense warmth hugging him, having your perfect scent surrounding him and having every worry in the world pushed out of his brain. 

But he did feel all the telltale signs - that almost painful tingle in his balls and that deep twisting in his gut that told him it was going to he over too soon. He was going to cum for you, just like he always did. 

All he could gather in response was a choked off grunt. But you knew his language well enough by now - you knew him when he was swimming this deep in pleasure, and you certainly didn’t need words. You knew it just by the expression on his face, the growing look of tight-knit desperation, the gentle whimpers that began to escape his lips. 

Something so enticing that it caused you to run a thumb along his bottom lip, finding the curve of his mouth to be all too pretty when he let out those sweet little sounds. Naturally, he drew the digit inside and began sucking on it, enjoying the tang of your natural skin oils, something that only pushed him closer to the edge. 

Feeling that that sharp whine punched out of his chest, vibrating around your finger only caused you to double down. You bucked your hips harder, riding him with an almost vengeful kick, as though you were trying to push his entire body down through the bed. It was something that caused a loud, pornographic wet smacking to echo through the room - a blatant signal to anyone walking by that the two of you were going at it like rabbits. 

If Gar had any sense left between his ears, he would have been thankful for it being such a large house. He would have been thankful for some sense of privacy. 

Instead, he was totally brainless as the feeling of orgasm overtook his body. His mouth went wide around your thumb as he released a litany of almost pathetic moans and whimpers and he arched back into the bed, a pure exorcism of pleasure overtaking him. He mindlessly endowed his animal strength onto you - digging his fingers into your hips and forcing you down onto his cock for a few moments, forcing you to still on top of him as he shot his load of hot cum inside of you. 

This caused a few hot moans from your lips, nothing but pure enjoyment as you watched the radical pleasure rock him. 

It was such an intense orgasm that it made his muscles seize and jump, it easily made his balls ache. By the time his cock had spurted those last bits of cum into you, he thought that his dick would willfully go limp and fall out of you, being just as tired as he was as he collapsed back onto the bed. But he was still semi-hard and throbbing inside your pussy, tingling with overstimulation as you unconsciously clenched around him. 

You leaned down to his panting lips, sealing him in a hot kiss. 

Gar let out a strangled shriek when you began bouncing your hips again. 

A shockwave of hot pin needles flew up his body from the point where you were joined, erratic hot overstimulation overtaking him. His cock forcefully filled with blood again as you clenched down on him harder. Clearly, you were gaining some thrill out of feeling the extra slickness of his cum sliding between the two of you, out of hearing just how wet your thrusts were now. 

Gar let out another sharp whine and moved his very limp hands back to your hips. In his mind, it was an attempt to shove you off him, to take a fucking breath. But his fingers only dug into your flesh harder and pulled you down onto his cock with force when he felt a particular hot streak of pleasure flare up through his gut. It was almost against his will - but your pussy was just too fucking good. 

“Too much.” He moaned out weakly, a hot puff against your lips, the first thing he had said in an hour of more. “‘s too much.” 

You found the way he slurred the words to be entirely adorable - as though he was quite literally drunk on your pussy. The wide gape of his mouth, trying to draw in breath as you continued to punch it out of him, and the tears pricking the edges of his eyes only made it more beautiful. 

“Do you want me to stop?” You asked, slightly breathless yourself. 

You continued to slam your hips down on his cock, over and over again planting yourself in that filthy puddle of your mixed cum. 

It was a traitorous question. 

It was too much of a strain on his body, but it was everything he wanted. He was breathless and brainless and nothing else in the world existed except for your wet cunt squeezing his aching cock, your natural smell filling the world around him, the hot press of your tits against his chest. 

The word ‘stop’ didn’t seem to be in his vocabulary. 

He let out a strained choking sound, and found himself unconsciously bucking up into you - he found himself enjoying the painful sting that ran through him. Tears leaked from his eyes, and when you reached up to wipe them away, you gave him one last thoughtful sentiment. 

“Tell me to stop and I will.” You whispered quietly against his cheek. 

But it seemed that you already knew what his answer would be. 

Gar put a hand on your back, cradling you close, shoving his face in your neck and breathing in that perfect aroma of your sweat. 

Stop? 

You ground your hips down into him, creating nothing but a filthy wet ache. He choked on a moan and found himself holding you still once again so he could fuck up into you harder.