yaz

Damian Wayne is the clingiest sleepy boyfriend imaginable. though, he'd never admit that. every night he is practically your body guard.

Follow me for more <3

The manor was quiet in the way only deep nights could be — the kind of silence that made every creak of the old floorboards feel louder than it should. You woke up slowly, blinking against the darkness, your throat dry and your mind fuzzy from a half-remembered dream. The clock on the nightstand read 3:42am. You’d only been asleep for a few hours, but your body was already demanding water.

You tried to slip out of bed quietly, careful not to wake Damian. He was curled up beside you, one arm draped possessively over your waist even in sleep, his breathing deep and even. His dark hair was messy against the pillow, his face relaxed in a way it rarely was during the day. You smiled softly, brushing a stray strand from his forehead before easing out from under his arm.

The second your feet touched the floor, he stirred.

“Mm… where are you going?” His voice was thick with sleep, rough and low, but his hand reached out immediately, fingers brushing your wrist.

“Just getting water,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be right back.”

The Italian coast glittered around you. The sun turning the white cliffs and water to diamonds.

The sea was impossibly blue, bright enough to burn through your closed eyelids. You had melted bonelessly into the vinyl cushions at the bow with no intention of moving. Not from the overwhelming heat. The sun was warming its way through your skin to the marrow of you, turning your body loose and golden and heavy.

You were too hot. Overheated, definitely. Your breathing had gone shallow from it.

But it felt so good.

Eventually, you would roll off the side of the anchored yacht like some dramatic, half-dead thing and crash into the water to cool yourself down.

For now, you were content to sun like a spoiled lizard.

Till a shadow fell over you.

You did not open your eyes.

“You’re going to burn,” Damian said. “When’s the last time you applied sunscreen or drank water?”

“Mm.”

There was a disapproving sound above you. A click of his tongue. The sound your long-suffering husband always made when you were being unreasonable on purpose.

Then his hands were on you.

You whined, immediately going limp in protest. “Nooo, ’m all sweaty.”

He ignored you, of course. Gathered you to him with appalling ease, as if you were not a grown woman but some indignant cat. You made yourself dead weight just to be difficult, and he handled you anyway. He settled against the cushioned backrest and arranged you so you were lying atop him, front to his bare chest. His heartbeat slow under your squished cheek.

You huffed but made no attempt to move.

He tugged the strings of your bikini top, tossing the pesky thing away so he could run his broad hand lazily up and down the length of your spine uninterrupted.

“Open, beloved.”

You opened your mouth without opening your eyes to see what it was.

Blood orange burst over your tongue, sharply sweet and cold. Juice ran down the corner of your mouth before you could catch it.

Damian simply ducked his head, licking the red trail clean for you.

“Greedy,” you mumbled. Your eyes opened halfway to look up at him.

“My wife makes restraint difficult.” He placed another slice between his teeth and leaned close enough to make you lift your head for it. You took it from his mouth, licking your lips.  

You inspected the plate that sat beside you. Washed fruit, cut neat and pretty because he had no capacity to do anything carelessly. “Cherries next.” You demanded, because you had him wrapped around your finger and you both knew it.

And next came black cherries, dark and glossy as polished stones and already pitted. He hand-fed them to you one by one, letting your lips brush his fingertips every time. Crisp pears, cold and pale. Then blood orange again, peeled and segmented, ruby-bright and dripping between his fingers. He ate what you did not, had you lick the juice from his now sticky fingers, and kept his other possessive hand spread across the bare, sun-hot skin of your back.

Waves licked at the sides of the yacht and the whole world smelled like salt, sweat, citrus, and him.

You were still too hot. Still drowsy with it. Half-planning your escape to slip into the water.

But Damian’s chest rose and fell beneath you, steady and hot. His mouth pressed once to the crown of your head. His muscular arms wrapped around you, as if he had all the time in the world to keep you exactly where he wanted you.

So, you closed your eyes again.

DC Masterlist

WC: 619 (drabble)

Sae x F!reader

Family reunions are complicated for most people. The Itoshis weren’t an exception, as everyone knows.

You love Sae’s family, even if your boyfriend has a difficult relationship with every member, but family reunions with them are one of your least favorite things.

Not really because of his parents, who have put way too much pressure on Sae from a very young age or because of Rin, no.

You’re embarrassed how your boyfriend behaves around his little brother. Even after years of not talking to each other frequently, Sae still doesn’t understand that Rin is seriously hurt from his actions and keeps on nagging him, in this cold, autistic Sae-way.

It’s been getting on your nerves since a long while but every time you wanted to talk to Sae about it, he didn’t take you seriously.

‘Rin’s just a teenage mess’,

‘He’ll come to his senses when he turns eighteen’,

‘His hormonal changes are none of my business and whatever emotions he feels aren’t either,’ were usually the explanation for Rin’s homicidal tendencies.

This year for Rin’s birthday, you just couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

After hours and hours of Rin and Sae spitting insults at each other over dinner or extremely uncomfortable silence, you pull Sae into his old childhood bedroom.

The door bangs behind you two, your hand on his collar, pulling him down to you. “Listen up, you trash can of a brother; if you don’t stop being a giant dick to your little brother, I’m gonna put you on a 12 month sex ban. I’m sick and tired of you hurting a child, that obviously idolizes you. You’re an adult and you have to act like one.”

You look and are furious. Seeing Rin getting hurt really does something to you, maybe it’s your maternal instinct, maybe you’re just siding with Rin because you are also frequently a victim of Sae’s untreated stupidness.

Sae is pressed against the wall, your finger in his face, your hand still on his collar.

You expected him to be his usual nonchalant, cold self, but he’s…different. His eyes are big and he looks at you with a mix of anger, awe and…need?

Now that you got your anger out, you realize how close you are and that something hard presses against you…

What a pathetic excuse of a man.

a/n: english isn’t my first language, criticism is welcomed but please be nice. Likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! Do not steal or copy my work.

Thinking about Dick Grayson finding your old diary. Specifically the page where you made a checklist of all of the things your ideal boyfriend should be and have.

Snooping wasn't his initial intention. He just happened to find it while helping you move into your new shared apartment.

When it fell from a secluded shelf in your closet, a moral dilemma took place in his mind. Clearly, you didn't want anyone to find it, but it was luring him in like a siren song.

After thinking about it carefully — and making sure you were still in the kitchen, packing your extensive mug collection — he decided to quickly leaf though it, trying not to actually read anything.

His intentions were good, he swears, but he can't help but linger on a particular page titled, in bold, pink glittery letters 'dream boyfriend'.

A smirk appears on his face as he reads some of the items.

- nice biceps

- obsessed with me

- puppy dog eyes

- makes me laugh

- dark hair light eyes combo

"What are you doing?"

Your horrified voice startles Dick, but he recovers fast as you try to snatch your diary from his hands. Like the annoying boyfriend he is, he quickly moves it behind his back, forcing you to step closer to him.

"Wow," he teases, "looks like you won the lottery, sweetheart."

The way he says the pet name is condescending, infuriatingly so, and after an initial moment of confusion, you remember the silly list you made when you were in highschool.

"Give it back!" you order, struggling to pry the damn thing from his hands.

"No need to be embarrassed about it. I'm glad to know I'm your type. It's actually kinda creepy how accurate this is."

Embarrassment floods your face, but you don't give up on trying to retrieve the diary — to later burn it, of course. You place your hands on his strong shoulders, using them as leverage to try and reach for his raised hand holding it.

The new position brings your face closer to his, and his eyes immediately fall to your lips. Without thinking about it too much, he starts kissing you, and slowly, he moves both of his hands to your hips, desperate to hold you.

Taking advantage of the distraction, you snatch the diary form his hand and run to the other end of the room. Dick lets out a groan, more annoyed about you interrupting the kiss than anything else.

"Glad to know you're obsessed with me. I can check that off the list," you state triumphantly.

A/N: Found my own list in my notes app and here we are.

“WEAR. THE. FUCKING. GLASSES.”

pairings — Tim Drake x reader

summary — men in glasses are so hot. And you’re sure Tim would look even hotter in them. If only he’d take a fucking hint…

You could only leave so many hints.

For the smartest person you knew, Tim Drake sure was acting like a clueless idiot. You did everything! And by everything, I mean everything!!

All you wanted was for him to wear glasses. No I mean seriously, your brain short circuited at the thought of Tim in glasses. Cause we can all agree, men in glasses is the hottest thing ever.

You started by leaving a pair of reading glasses you bought him next to his bedside table every morning, and somehow the most observant guy ever didn’t observe them. It went on for three days before you decided to switch their location.

If there was one place Tim’s eyes were guaranteed to focus on in the morning, it was the espresso machine. You set the stylish, sleek black frames right on top of his favorite mug. Surely he couldn't miss them now. You sat at the kitchen island, sipping your tea, waiting for the exact moment his brain registered the object.

Tim stumbled into the kitchen at 6:00 AM, lHe reached out, picked up the glasses with two fingers, set them gently on the counter next to the sugar bowl, poured his coffee, and walked away.

He didn't even look at them.

You stared at his retreating back, your mouth slightly agape. Are you actual bullshitting me right now, Timothy?

Okay, subtle wasn't working. It was time to invade his sacred space.

While he was out on patrol, you snuck down to the Batcave and laid the glasses directly in front of his central monitor, resting right on his keyboard. There was zero chance he could type a single line of code without touching them.

When he finally returned, cowl pulled down around his neck, hair sticking up in endearing chaotic waves, he sat down at the console. He picked up the glasses, frowned at them for a fraction of a second, moved them six inches to the left, and immediately began typing furiously about a cold case in the East End.

You, watching from the top of the stairs, nearly pulled your own hair out. He was literally a master detective. He tracked international assassins for fun. But a pair of glasses sitting on his keyboard? Completely invisible.

By day nine, you had lost your mind.

You were currently sitting on the couch in his apartment, watching him hunched over a stack of reports that were about who knows what. His eyes were bloodshot, squinting heavily at the fine print under the dim lamp light.

You stood up, picked up the glasses—which had been sitting on his desk as a paperweight for the last two days—and walked over.

"Do your eyes hurt?" you asked, leaning over his chair.

"No," Tim mumbled, rubbing his temples, not looking up from the page.

You held out the sleek frames right in front of his nose. "Glasses. In case."

"No," he grunted, gently pushing your hand aside to keep staring at a spreadsheet. "I don't need them."

Your remaining sanity snapped in half. You slammed your other hand onto the desk, shoving the glasses right into his grip.

“WEAR. THE. FUCKING. GLASSES.”

Tim flinched, blinking at you in utter shock as your sudden shout shattered the quiet room. "What? Wait—why do you keep moving those around anyway? I thought Dick was leaving his stuff here again."

You choked on air. "Dick's stuff?!"

"Yeah," Tim said innocently, holding the frames up to inspect them. "I thought someone left them behind. Wait did you get these ?

"Tim. Put. Them. On." You pointed a finger inches from his face, your tone leaving zero room for negotiation. "I swear Timothy you better put them on NOW or ELSE I swear I’m throwing all your shit out the window. I’m not playing around."

Tim blinked, realizing you were dead serious and dangerously close to executing that threat. "Okay, okay! Chill, I'm putting them on!"

He unfolded the arms of the glasses and slipped them over his ears, adjusting them slightly on the bridge of his nose. He looked back up at you, his blue eyes suddenly framed perfectly by the sharp, dark rims, making him look unfairly handsome, sophisticated, and ridiculous all at once.

Your brain instantly flatlined.

The silence in the room stretched for five long seconds.

"What?" Tim asked, suddenly self-conscious, reaching up to take them off. "Do I look ridiculous? Are they blurry? They're non-prescription, right—"

"Don't you fucking touch them," you choked out, slapping his hand away from his face.

Tim froze, his hand hovering in mid-air. "Huh?"

"Tim, what the fuck," you whispered, taking a step back and grabbing your own face in sheer disbelief. You paced back and forth in front of his desk. "What the fuck. You look—oh my God."

"I... look good?" Tim asked, a slow, hesitant smirk starting to tug at the corner of his lips as he realized what was actually happening.

"You look absurd. You look illegal. NEVER take those off," you demanded, pointing at him accusingly. "I am placing a court order on your face. Those stay on forever. You're sleeping in them. You're patrolling in them."

Tim chuckled, leaning back in his chair, his eyes crinkling behind the lenses as he crossed his arms. "So... all those random places you left them..."

"I was trying to be romantic and subtle, you idiot!"

"Right," Tim said, his smirk widening as he reached up to lightly tap the frame. "Well. Guess I'm wearing glasses now."

summary: What happens when they get a call that their beloved partner is out drunk?

warnings: mentions of vomiting and drinking, gn!reader (I think?) pet names, a lil angsty in Tim’s part, but overall just fluff and crack lol

a/n: Hellooo I hope everyone’s doing well<33 I’ve been kinda out of it mentally but I’m back!

Starring: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne

Dick Grayson

The phone rung at about 3 am, waking Dick from his slumber.

He grunted as he rolled over to the side of his bed, reaching his arm out to grab the telephone.

“Hello?” Dick said groggily.

His mind snapped out of his sleepy state the minute he heard your voice.

And by the way you were slurring your words, you were definitely drunk.

“Ok baby just tell me where you are and I’ll come pick you up.” He hastily said, already putting his coat and shoes on.

You struggled to get the name of the bar you were at. But when you finally did, Dick wasted no time and immediately drove over to your location.

He got out of the car and immediately spotted you, sitting on the curb and looking up at god knows what.

Dick slowly approached you, trying not to startle you.

You were in your own world, admiring the night sky up above in your intoxicated state.

“[name]? You okay?” He called out to you.

You looked over to him, smile widening immediately.

“Dick!” You squealed.

Of course, jumping from your position so suddenly was a bad idea, especially when you had just inhaled 4 rounds of vodka shots earlier.

You stumbled backward, your balance completely lost.

Dick quickly caught your wrist and pulled you toward him before you could hurt yourself.

“Careful there.” He flashed a grin at you.

“Hello boyfriend.” You giggled hazily as you burrowed your face into his neck.

He chuckled as one of his arms slipped beneath your knees to pick you up.

“What are you doing out so late baby?”

You groaned into his shoulder, sliding one arm behind his neck.

“M’friends left me alone.”

Dick scoffed at that, kissing the top of your head as he began walking off to his car.

“You should’ve called me earlier.”

Dick’s touch was the only familiar thing to you right now. You couldn’t help yourself as you hummed against him and closed your eyes.

When he finally arrived to the car, Dick carefully opened the backseat door with his elbow.

“Cmon hon, we’re here.” He brushed a hair from your face before noticing you had already drifted off to sleep.

Dick smiled softly as he gently lowered you onto the car seats, your body already curling up the moment you touched the smooth leather.

He later drove you back to his apartment, making sure you were okay before tucking you into bed, your soft snores later blending into his as he held you while the both of you slept.

Oh, and he WILL take care of you during your hangover in the morning.

Jason Todd

When you called him suddenly in the middle of the night, drunk, he swears he felt his heart stop beating.

He was always prepared for the worst situation possible, and for some reason he was blaming himself already if anything had happened to you.

You were blabbering on about some random dude at the bar while Jason rushed out of his apartment, holding the phone by his ear tightly.

He quickly revved up his motorcycle and rushed over to the bar you were at, his mind clouded with worry as the cold Gotham wind blew against his skin.

Jason arrived at the location you mention you were at in a hurry, yanking his helmet away immediately.

The door bust wide open, making everyone’s heads bar turn towards the tall muscular man standing at the entrance. He ignored everyone’s stares and immediately marched over to you.

You were giggling hysterically at a joke a guy you met earlier told you when Jason tapped your shoulder and said your name.

As soon as you spotted your boyfriend, your smile grew impossibly wide and you got up to clumsily wrap your arms around his neck.

When he noticed you weren’t hurt or in any real danger, any tension from his shoulders released.

“It’s dangerous to be out so late, doll.” He said, hugging you tightly.

“Stop bossing me around, Jay.” You murmured.

He scoffed and threw you over his shoulder as you yelped at the sudden action.

Jason shot one last dirty look at the man you were talking to before walking out the door.

His boots clanked as he strut to his bike, setting you down on the seat swiftly.

“You’re gonna have to hold on tight yeah?” He said, handing you a helmet.

“Hm.” You huffed.

Jason made sure you were okay before also stepping onto the motorcycle and turning it on.

Your fingers clutched at his jacket before he drove off into the night.

He wakes up in the morning with you clinging onto him like a koala, then has to hold your hair up while you throw up the alcohol from the earlier night.

Tim Drake:

Tim was hunched over at the batcomputer, typing away for a case he was working on for weeks when he finally looked at the clock.

He immediately woke up from his sleepy state, remembering you were supposed to be here ages ago. It was now 3:16 am, way too late for you to still be out.

Tim immediately checked his phone, seeing a couple missed calls from you.

He cursed under his breath, trying to call you back yet getting no response.

Thankfully, he never went anywhere without knowing your location, even if you might not know that he had it yourself.

Tim hastily pulled your location out and made his way to you, scurrying over with one of the cars from the manor.

You were supposed to be at some frat party your friend had invited you to, and knowing you, you probably had one too many drinks.

He slammed the car door shut, immediately walking into the house whose front door was unlocked. In Gotham??

The loud music baring from the stereos and the colourful lights hit him like a bullet to his head, covering his ears and making his only mission finding you.

He searched high and low, upstairs, downstairs, in the basement, before he heard your voice shouting from the kitchen.

You were crawling on the marble countertop, drinking up a couple shots effortlessly.

His eyes widened as he pushed through a crowd of people to get to you, gaze locked on your form the whole time.

“Baby?” He brushed his hand against your arm.

You looked over to see his your boyfriend, your face displaying a shocked expression.

That shocked expression soon turned into an annoyed one.

You slowly got down from the countertop, tripping over to him.

“What’r you doing here Tim?” You slurred.

His brows furrowed, “What do you mean? You called me?”

You groaned, because of him or the alcohol, you don’t know.

“You were supposed to be here 2 hours ago! You promised you’d pick me up! But I guess your stupid work is more important than me.” Your body stumbled backwards before you clutched onto the countertop.

His face changed into something completely different, a guilty look in his eyes.

“Fuck. I forgot about that. Sorry.”

You rolled your eyes, walking away from him and back to the discarded shots.

“Doesn’t matter, I have a new boyfriend now!” You laughed giddily.

Hu huffed, “What?!”

You gestured to the half empty vodka bottle you were holding, fingers already reaching over to pour some in a glass. His brows furrowed.

He swore you lost your mind when you started talking to the bottle.

“-Isn’t that right? You’d never leave me like Tim.” You cooed at the glass bottle, clutching it against your chest like a madwoman.

“Alright. That’s it.” Tim spoke up, prying the bottle away from your hands and picking you up over his shoulder.

“Hey! Put me down!” You yelled.

He ignored your demand, fighting through the crowd of people in an attempt to get through the front door.

When he finally made it, you were slumped over his shoulder, body finally giving in to your tiredness.

He brought his car keys out of his pocket, unlocking the door and placing you into the passenger seat.

“You’re mean.” You murmured.

“I love you too.” He smiled, before driving back to the manor.

Tim tucked you into bed and before he could think about leaving to go deprive himself of more sleep, you pulled at his wrist harshly and he fell into the white sheets next to you.

“You owe me an apology tomorrow. And breakfast.” You whispered drunkenly against his raven hair.

He gave into your touch, arms engulfing your body.

“Whatever you say, baby.”

Bruce Wayne

Bruce had finally made it home from patrol, ready to fall asleep in his bed.

Though when he saw your contact ringing on his phone, he immediately snapped out of his tired trance.

It was one of your colleagues who called him, saying that you might have had a little bit too much to drink at the company gala tonight.

Bruce wasted no time before getting dressed, heading out of the manor doors.

He declined Alfred’s offer to drive him and immediately got into his car, speeding off in a second.

Bruce pulled into the parking lot ten minutes later. Hastily getting out of the vehicle, he straightened his posture and headed into the tall fancy building.

He immediately spotted you, loud warm laugh vibrating against the walls of the ballroom. You slammed a hand down onto your table, making it shake a little.

Your trusted colleague, on the other hand, made all efforts to try to keep you from knocking over anything and also to keep you from drinking any more champagne.

She let out the biggest exhale ever when she saw Bruce standing in the middle of the room, helping you get up immediately and leading you toward him.

“Please take her home.”

She gave you a small smile before letting you stumble forward to his chest.

You looked up, eyes widening in shock as he slid a hand around your waist.

“What’s wrong honey, had a little too much to drink?” He smiled.

“Huh-wha? Honey?” You blushed.

“Hm?” He chuckled in confusion.

“Who… who are you?” You tilted your head as you slurred your words.

“Your husband.” He gave you an honest look.

Your eyes widened even wider when the word “husband” left his mouth.

You gasped softly, “I have… a husband?”

Bruce laughed as he took your hand into his, bringing it up to your face.

“See?” He gestured to your wedding ring.

“Oh my god.” You ogled the shiny piece of metal.

You looked back at him, scanning his face intently.

“If you’re my husband, what’s your name?”

His hand brought yours up to place a small kiss upon your knuckles, grinning at your question.

“It’s Bruce, darling. You really don’t remember me?”

You shook your head, oblivious as ever.

He sighed, leading you out the building slowly.

When you got to his car. You stopped him before he could usher you into the backseat.

“Bruce?” You whispered.

“Yes?” He curiously said.

“Can I give you a kiss?” You pleaded with your eyes.

He laughed softly as he lowered his head to make it easier for you to access his lips.

You laughed giddily as you placed a small peck on his cheek, then immediately crawled into the backseat.

“I think I like having a husband.” You muttered to yourself, loud enough for Bruce to hear it.

He will definitely make fun of you for this in the morning.

Tysm for reading! Reblogs & comments are appreciated <3

!do not plagiarise my work or feed it to AI!

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 SUMMARY: having soft morning sex with HUSBAND! DICK GRAYSON instead of going to work!

ⓘ CONTENT WARNINGS: husband! dick grayson, mommy kink, choking (dick receiving)! MINORS DNI -> fashion magazine editor in chief! fem! reader ノ vaginal sex ノ unprotected sex ノ praise kink ノ size kink ノ morning + soft sex ノ sloppy kissing ノ masochist! dick!

AUTHOR’S NOTE: mhmmmm, the idea of fashion editor in chief! reader x husband! dick in this dynamic ate me up so good, im a sucker for strong women being treated well by their love interests, plus… dick calling you mommy was always in the works— might make this it’s own separate au, idk yet, but i have other ideas in my mind so…

the morning light comes through the curtains without issue.

normally, at this hour, you’d be in your office, talking to whatever new employee one of your assistants brought in or talk to an executive about a new fashion brand collaboration you had lined up for the runway section of the upcoming issue… and that’s the thing; you should be in your office right now.

it’s ten am after all, your shift as editor in chief at one of the most popular fashion magazines in the world starts at ten… but the thing that also starts at ten? your husband’s sex drive.

which is why; instead of being in your cushy office chair, you were sitting in the lap of dick grayson…

well… kind of? because you weren’t exactly sitting in his lap but rather, bouncing on his dick… and he was helping you.

the thing about dick? he knows he ain’t the power in this relationship; you’re the breadwinner, the fashion editor-in-chief, the one with magazines with your name on them, awards lining the shelves of your shared penthouse… he ain’t the important one in the relationship (besides being nightwing but still; dick grayson? ain’t the popular one) so obviously, he fixes that with being remarkably charming and incredible in bed!

“f-fuck! dick!” you cry out, your nightie pushed up on your body as his big hands push up on your hips, fingers pressing in to your pretty skin. “so- so good.”

dick smiled, sleepiness still lingering in his system— you could see it in his blue eyes, but the sight of you on his morning wood woke him up faster than anything— and just the sound of your moans ruin him further. “yeah baby, keep moaning for me… ain’t gotta do anything, hun, i know that brain gets worked like crazy by those damn employees of yours… let your husband ruin you…”

and typically? he’d be earning a slap on the chest for such words… but his cock was just pushing in and out of you too good that you couldn’t respond with words.

only nodding your head, your fingers dug deep into dick’s broad chest, feeling his hands stroke up and down your back, fingers tingling and making you shiver.

he smiled at your inability to talk back, his left hand going down to your thigh, touching the bare skin as his right hand sneaks up your nightie and touching your bare back. "good girl... let me take care of you." he whispers, feeling your hands drag up his chest. "take all you can get, mama, i'll be right down here."

his cock drags up and down your walls as you ride him, head retracted back as pleasure seeps into every vein in your body, feeling your mind scramble at his touch not only on the outside but the inside as well.

and before you could stop your hands; they wrap around his throat, not hard— you know he can take you choking him like a champ— but you don't wrap 'em around his throat hard simply because you're in too deep of pleasure to care to squeeze.

both of your thumbs on his adam's apple as your fingers wrap around 'till they hit the back of his neck.

he laughs as you wrap your fingers around his neck, feeling the cold metal of your wedding band on his neck in the same way you felt the cold metal of his wedding band on your back as his hand trailed upwards. "oh fuck yeah, mommy, fuckin' wrap those pretty hands around me... i can take it."

"oh-oh i know you can t-take it." you bite back, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes.

the son of a bitch has a smirk on his face, strands of his black hair falling in front of his face. "clearly you can't take me all too well." he jokes, looking down to see his cock disappear in and out with each bounce mixed with a rock of your hips.

you grunt, digging your nails into the back of his neck on purpose— he doesn't even mention it, but by that moan after you do it? the fucker is turned on. "oh don't tell me that tur-turned you on, dick?"

he nodded. "of course it did, hun, anything you do is sexy to me."

"oh really?"

"anything, mama."

he just has a way with words that melt you from the inside out. no wonder you've been married to him for five years up to this point; good looks and great personality only goes so far for a man who fucks like this.

dick feels his cock twitch right as you feel yourself get closer and closer to your orgasm— he knows this because of the furrow in your brows and the fact that you're bouncing faster, almost to catch up with the feeling as it runs faster and faster.

"you close, hun?" he questions, squeezing your thigh with his left hand. "you're close, aren't you... we can cum together, how does that sound? fill you up real good?"

and you nod your head, not being able to resist him. "y'yes... cum with me dick, cum for me and i'll cum for you..." and with that encouragement, it's no shock that you two finish at the same time.

with one last plunge on his dick and feeling his happy trail tickle your clit at the perfect angle, dick falls over his edge right as you fall over your own edge.

your vision blurs; eye roll back as you press so hard on dick’s throat that you practically white-knuckle it, grinding down hard on his cock as the orgasm flows through you without trouble.

you can feel his hands softly rush up and down your body, soothing you as his own orgasm comes to him, balls squeezing and cock twitching as he unloads inside of you, his hot cum spurting into your pussy, covering your walls as the heat and the sensation of it only drives you further into your pleasure.

“dick… dick… dick… fuck, baby.” you breathlessly moan, closing your eyes to feel the extent in which your body was pushed— not aggressively though, it felt soft despite the filth.

dick smiled up at you, moaning his own way as he unloads his cum. “there you go, mama, take all my cum… takin’ it so good, making you full of me…” he praises under his breath, lifting his body up into a sitting position, both arms wrapping around your waist.

you open your eyes once you feel the tides of your orgasm slowly vanish, slow but your vision is back, seeing dick’s soft gaze in front of you. moving your hands, you cup his face. 

“hey honey… there you go… come back to dick.” he encourages, pressing a soft kiss to your neck, feeling your body against his, boobs pressing against his chest. “you’re so pretty…” 

he’s lost in your beauty, even when your hair is sticking to your head, your eyes half-lidded and taking deep breaths, trying to catch up with your body. his hands touch you gently, helping in bringing you back down to earth. 

you look at him, smiling. “hey, handsome…”

he presses another kiss, this time on your cheek. “hi, wifey… feeling good?”

“what do you think?” you challenge, cocking an eyebrow.

he shrugs. “i think you aren’t going into work today?”

you chuckle, shaking your head and whimpering when you feel him squeeze your hips gently. “you got that right, pretty boy.”

masterlist is here! click here for more!

summary : Hot summer night with your clingy boyfriend

tags : Fluff, just pure fluff

words : 590

a/n : A little something I wrote while unable to sleep in this scorching heat (attic bedrooms are not for the weak)

Summer in Blüdhaven this year around was absolutely agonising. The sun outside heating up the pavement and concrete walls to the point that you felt like a beef roast inside an oven.

The nights weren’t any better. The warmed up interior showing no mercy as you laid in front of your fan in hopes of some type of relief.

You felt like you were in a never ending fever dream. The air is incredibly stuffy and the sheets kept on sticking to your skin. It didn’t help either with an all grown up velcro baby sleeping beside you.

You feel Dick shift beside you for the 3rd time in the last ten minutes, flipping his pillow and kicking the blanket off the end of the Queen sized bed while huffing and puffing like a dog.

“Richard stop moving…”, you murmur against your pillow, eyebrow furrowed, earning you a small scoff from him.

“I can’t sleep when you’re so far away.”, he mumbles, turning around to face your back. You roll your eyes, hearing the inevitable pout in his voice as his hand inches closer to tug at your tank top.

As much as you love him, he’s a human furnace that you would rather stay far away from right now.

You glance over your shoulder sluggishly, eyes crusted up from the little sleep you managed to get before the heat woke you up.

The moonlight illuminates his features, catching a glimpse of his dark, curly hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as he shuffles closer, closing the small gap that has formed between you two - or rather the one you’ve created when trying to get away from him.

You groan the moment his beefy and very warm arm drapes over your waist and his nose meets the crook of the sweet spot where your shoulder and neck meet, kissing his way up to your jugular vein.

“Stop, Dick. I’m going to overheat.”, you murmur, trying to get him off you with a lazy push of your elbow but to no avail, his much bigger and heavier body draping itself over you like a blanket.

“You’ll be fine.”, he snorts into your hair, his leg slipping inbetween yours and arm wrapping around your neck, keeping you in gentle headlock.

“I’m serious. I’m moving to the couch if you don’t stop.”, you push his arm away and sit up, shooting a glare his way.

That made him back off momentarily. You sigh, wiping away his sweat from your skin and relaxing onto your sheets again, Dick sprawled out like a starfish with his eyes focused on the ceiling beside you.

“…Are you sure you don’t want to cuddle?”

You groan, eyebrows furrowing the moment his stupid voice hits your ears, “Richard, go to sleep.”

He huffs and sits up, “But I can’t sleep when I’m not touching you!”

“Hug your pillow and imagine it’s me..”, you sigh and rub your eyes.

“You know that’s not the same..”, Dick mumbles, leaning in once again to pepper your face with kisses with his arm propped up beside your head.

As much as you try, you can’t bite back the smile threatening to appear on your face as he chases after you when you gently push his face away, grinning like an idiot as he steals another kiss.

He pulls away enough to catch a glimpse of your eyes, his hand moving to brush through your thick hair.

“…Can I atleast hold your hand?”

“Are you going to leave me alone if I do?”

focused on murder 🥰

reddit mixtape 📼 !!

ᯓ‎♪ blurb

the bllk boys are undergoing major relationship dilemmas. what better way than to ask for advice on Reddit? well, the girl causing some of these men’s heartbreaks is none other than y/n, and michael kaiser has a biiigggg problem with her!

ᯓ‎♪ content

crack/shitpost // smau // kaiser x fem!reader // swearing // incel humour // suggestive // sexism // crude humour // enemies to luvrs if u squint // EXTREMELY vulgar // kys jokes // everybody bastardized // ongoing

tracklist ᝰ

| 01 nagi posts on r/aita

// 02 hugo posts on r/aita

// 03 shidou posts on r/aita

// 04 rin posts on r/aita

// 05 sae posts on r/aita

// 06 bunny posts on r/aita

// 07 podcaster!kaiser special

// 08 kaiser posts on r/aita

// 09 processing . . .

// 10 processing . . .

— ⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

2k followers event, request no. 14: While cleaning Rin's room, you accidentally discover a hidden folder filled with his childhood photos and suddenly, the cold, intimidating striker becomes the cutest thing you've ever seen.

You were not supposed to find that folder.

Actually according to Rin, it was supposed to stay buried, locked, sealed, burned and thrown off the edge of the earth.

But too bad for him... you were cleaning his drawers. And when you opened a random drawer in his room, you found a neatly labeled USB drive.

Rin 0–10

Your eyes widen.

"...No way," you whisper and plug it in your computer.

A folder pops up.

Inside hundreds, hundreds of baby, toddler, and little kid Rin pictures.

That's when it happens.

You actually clutch your chest like you've been stabbed by cuteness.

"OH. MY. GOD. RIN. ITOSHI. YOU WERE A WHOLE MOCHI BALL—WHAT THE HELL—LOOK AT THIS FACE—LOOK AT YOU—YOU WERE BITEABLE!!!"

On the other hand Rin has just come out of shower, with towel around his neck, totally worried.

"Why are you screaming?"

Then he sees it, the screen, his baby face, and you violently pointing at the monitor like you've just discovered the meaning of life.

Rin freezes.

"No"

You whip around so fast the chair nearly tips over.

"RIN!"

His eye twitches.

You point at the screen with trembling fingers.

"YOU WERE A BABY."

"...Everyone was."

"NOT THIS CUTE."

You click another picture.

Tiny Rin sitting on a blanket in the grass, his cheeks so round they look VERY squeezable. His dark hair sticks up in every direction while he stares into the camera with a confused expression.

You gasp so loudly Rin physically flinches.

"Oh my God. YOU LOOK LIKE A LITTLE DUMPLING."