#but i do think he would be sooooo foolish once he got jealous

[utterlyazriel]

the green emotion

someone requested jealous!azriel and i... made up a whole plot. i hope it's decent and fulfills the craving ! i'm a firm believer than he's so silly when he gets jealous <3 friends to lovers, about 4k

Azriel was not a jealous Male.

That was what he told himself. Jealousy was something that possessed the likes of Cassian or Rhys, driven to territorial acts that likened them to wild beasts. Fueled by their protectiveness, their senses dulled beyond reason.

Jealousy was a sharp whip with a taunting bite and Azriel was one of few who did not bend beneath it.

He had adopted a strength over millennia, an iron will, that prevented him from harboring such unsavory feelings. He was a stronger male than that, not so easily willed by strong ugly emotions such as jealousy.

That was what he told himself — as he tailed behind you, hanging back far enough you could not detect his presence, his shadows shrouding him.

It was reaching evening in Velaris, the last remnants of the sun's dappled light scattered across the cobblestones. You were clothed in a velvet cloak that reached down to your ankles. Its hood was drawn up, to cover your face.

If Azriel didn’t know you so well, not the weight of your steps and the lithe you carried yourself with, you may have slipped by unnoticed.

But Azriel was the Spymaster for a reason — and you were keeping secrets.

Truly, it itched and picked at him as he turned reason over and over again in his mind as he followed you. What possible reason could you have for skirting around in the dark? To slip from your friends and cloak yourself, wishing to remain unseen on the streets of your home?

It didn’t make sense to him. No thoughts of treason ever breached his mind. You wouldn’t dare, he knew that. You treasured your family as deeply as Azriel did himself, having bled and fought for your space beside them many years ago.

But as Azriel traced the path you walked, knowing you were fully in your right to go about your business however you pleased, it couldn’t be ignored. Logic kept pointing fingers in the same direction.

If he did not suspect you of withholding vital information from your court, then his quiet tailing must be fueled by something else. Something as trivial as an emotion such as…. jealousy.

Azriel bristled at the thought and his wings shook silently behind him, as if shaking off some imaginary snow.

He did not get jealous.

He was simply… ensuring the safety of his court. Which included your own safety. Even the thought made him grimace in the shadows, knowing the smack he would receive from Cassian if his brother ever heard the implication you couldn’t fend for yourself.

You most certainly could. Azriel and Cassian had both spent their fair share of hours battling against you in the fighting ring, training you up.

And it’s hardly likely that the image of you — donned in your fighting leathers, forehead beaded with sweat, chest heaving as you gripped your sword tight and grinned across the ring — was something Azriel would forget anytime soon.

Cauldron boil him if he ever had to admit aloud just how often he thought of that image.

Still, something within him kept his feet moving, footsteps as quiet as the night.

Faelight illuminated across the cobbles, the light of the rising moon, brighter in this court than any other, cast across the doorsteps of the townhouses. You had wound through the streets and ended up two streets stray from the Palace of Threads and Jewels. On a doorstep that Azriel had never seen before.

Your hood fell to your shoulders as you pushed it back gently, revealing the column of your throat and the curve of your shoulders. The faint moonlight glided across your skin, a luminous glow curling up against your collarbones. Azriel swallowed from his place in the shadows.

It was never a surprise to find you beautiful. To revere your enchanting otherworldly beauty — that Azriel was used to. And yet still, even after all these years, he had not managed to master the way it stole the breath from his lungs every time.

A familiar hunger yawned within him. He averted his eyes from you to the door.

He forced himself to take in the details, listening as his shadows whispered things his eyes could not attest. An artist's home. Damaged and rebuilt in the last battle of Velaris. The inhabitant was a Male, living alone.

Something blistered awfully inside Azriel.

Why would you visit a home such as this? Azriel could think of a few reasons that could warrant a visit so late in the evening, with your face concealed and your footsteps light. He felt his stomach turn over. Something foul burned in his gut.

The door before you opened and Azriel turned his face fast, slicing his gaze to the ground before he could see the Fae who greeted you.

Suddenly, this felt too close to an invasion of privacy. If you wished to keep your lovers a secret, as he himself did, this was a direct violation of your wishes.

That was... if this man was, indeed, your lover.

Something vulgar, something ugly reared up in his veins. Azriel clenched his fists at his sides, siphons gleaming, and willed it down.

Jealousy would not become him. Jealousy was not— did not control him.

And yet he could feel it, coursing through his blood, choking up his throat. Azriel tried to push it down, to fight against it with reason, with logic. You were promised to no Male, least of all to him. But...

But he could've sworn.

As quickly as the words appeared in his mind, Azriel stamped them down with an icy fury.

A silent curse followed them, directed at himself for his own foolishness. How many times would he walk this road before he eventually learned?

There had been no heated moments between you, no wandering eyes, no lingering hands; none that he had not imagined. None that his mind had no conjured up in its own twisted hope.

When you sought him out in the night, tormented by your own mind and how it kept you from sleep, you were seeking... a friend, Azriel realised bitterly.

There was nothing deeper to your decision to show up at his door but no one else's. Nothing was hidden in the way you chose a seat next to him at every dinner, nor the way you found a way to be beside him at the tables at Rita's.

Sitting close enough so that he could smell the alluring scent of your perfume. Could see the gleam of your bright eyes as you glanced at him after every joke, almost as if to see what might make him smile.

No. He steeled himself, shutting down every sweet moment of you he had been subconsciously collecting, holding to a greater magnitude than you clearly did.

You were not like Mor or Cassian. You did not warm the sheets of many Fae beds, slipping in and out of them without a care.

You were... alike to himself, Azriel had thought. Dedicated yourself to one.

He scowled at himself in the dark. This— this rendezvous in the dark did not dispel what he knew about you. It did not make it untrue.

It simply meant his feeble hope, that the one, the Fae you might dedicate yourself entirely was him... was just that—a hope.

It did not sway the reality of the world, the matter of truth that you crept out in the night to meet on shadowed doorsteps. Azriel felt his shadows smoking around him, spun into a frenzy at his unwelcome revelation. He snapped in his wings a little tighter.

Coming here tonight, following you, had been a mistake.

—

It seemed perfectly logical after that night for Azriel to take a step back, to rein himself in.

Not that there was not much to rein back — but the small actions reserved just for you, the unrestrained smiles, the inside jokes ribbed back at one another.

The things he had perceived as meaning more. He knew, that if he wanted to protect his heart from further ache, he should stop doing them.

But... maybe the only thing he did better than fighting, he thought grievously, was being utterly lovesick for someone who would never feel the same.

At the very least, he would hold his feelings to secrecy. It began with the smallest retractions, like weaning an addict off their favourite drug.

Azriel knew if he pulled away too quick, it would send him into a sort of withdrawal — and after all these years spent together, he wasn't sure he knew how to live with a deficit of you. Of your brazen smile and sparkling eyes.

Slow and sure. Over the next week, he willed himself to quit bothering you, to empty a space in your life so you could invite in others, those that meant more to you. So, there could be space for your new... lover.

Even the word sounded bitter in his mind.

Azriel opted for longer training in the morning. Let his sparring sessions with Cassian bleed longer and longer, not leaving the blazing hot rooftop even when Cass winds up limping inside.

He had received a halfhearted scowl from the warrior, undoubtedly for how unrelenting he had been in his fighting this week.

The time he usually sets aside for you, to read side by side in the library, to bake, to enjoy each other's company — Azriel swept it aside for you, to free up your schedule.

Noticed how you spend your free time down in Velaris. He doesn't dare tail you again.

The week crawls by slowly, stretching out thick, black tar.

Come Sunday, a day you normally reserved for spending with him, Azriel knows his extra insistence on training isn't enough of an excuse to keep you away. He trains late anyway.

True to his suspicions, it takes less than an hour for you to appear— having come to find him.

Azriel can sense you, even before his shadows murmur sweet things in his ears about the most beautiful Fae watching him through the window.

You're lingering at the door, unusually reserved. He can feel your hesitancy, even as he works his aching muscles through yet another set of exercises. His shadows stay in close, the edge of his body whispering in and out of darkness, his siphons gleaming.

You wait, watching quietly, until the sword he's wielding, a strong, broad Illyrian blade, is placed down to rest. Then, there's the soft pad of your feet as you step out into the training area. He hears you coming but he does not turn to face you.

“I've missed you this week.”

Even with his back turned, Azriel fights to keep his expression neutral, even as his eyes flutter at your admission. There's a tug on his shadows, their desire to wisp across to you proving a challenge to resist. He holds himself still, stern, and doesn't even a ruffle of his wings to indicate he's heard you.

"I—" Azriel begins. He still can't bear to turn to face you. "I'm sorry to hear that."

He can hear the noise of confusion that slips from your throat — evidently, it isn't the response you're expecting.

Azriel focuses on the sword before him, his bicep bulging as he lifts its weight and wanders to the stand of weapons. He pretends to be immersed in the decision of which to train with next, even though he's been out here for hours.

Even with his silent cold shoulder, he can still hear you behind him, your feet dragging softly across the ground in what is surely a hesitant nervous action. But still, you haven't left.

"Well, maybeee…" You continue on, voice still aiming for light and breezy, as if he hasn't been avoiding you. You're still trying.

Azriel's chest tightens up with a familiar ache, one that always lingers around you. Since seeing you that night, on another Male's doorstep, its sting has become particularly cruel. Jealousy has a cold bite.

"If you’re nearly done... I mean, if your somewhat obsessive workout regime is finally complete..."

You're winding on, taking jabs that would normally make him smile. You'd take a gentle rolling of his eyes at this point. Azriel turns to you, his face remaining passive.

"I was wondering if you wanted to come sit with me in the library," You say, voice suddenly softer now that he's facing you. "If you’re not too busy, that is.”

Azriel steels himself, eyes cutting to the ground as he forces himself to not wilt beneath your hopeful gaze. He knew it would be hard to pull himself away from you but this? This is nearing torture.

He clears his throat. “I am.”

He turns and begins to peel off the layers of Illyrian leathers from his torso, remaining diligent at keeping himself from caving to you. He can feel the ugly emotion rolling just beneath the surface, a gruesome green monster that threatens his usual composure.

Behind him, he hears your soft, saddened oh. His wings give a tiny shiver at it, even as he continues the methodical process of unwinding after training.

Piece by piece, his armor comes off, until even his shirt has been shed. His skin glistens under the shine of the afternoon sun, the muscles beneath rippling and sore from exertion.

There's a moment of silence and Azriel keeps his head bowed as he gathers himself, prepared to bathe the sweat and grime off himself. It wasn't a complete lie he had told.

Perhaps, he thinks wistfully, he could wash some of his unjust jealousy away with it. Being so unwound by his feelings is taking its toll on him, considering how unused to it he is. He waits, ears keenly listening for the sign of your departure.

After a minute of quietness, he can only assume you've slipped away silently. He sighs, half in relief and half in his sorrow.

"What are you busy doing?"

Your voice pipes up and Azriel glances behind him, surprised that you haven't left after all. His wings tuck in a little tighter.

"y/n." He murmurs your name and it comes out almost as a plea. Now, faced with you pulling apart his loose lie, Azriel finds he doesn't have it within him to lie to your face. "Please."

You don't say anything.

Azriel's shadows dance around him, agitated and frenzied, and he wills them to calm— though, that had always been an impossible request in your presence. He takes a sharp inhale and walks towards the door, leaving you behind on the rooftop.

He gets halfway down the hallway, heading for his room before your voice calls out again.

"Busy avoiding me?"

You've followed him from the training ring and now you stand at the end of the hallway, your arms crossed firmly across your chest. Your face is contorted into a hard expression, a furrow between your brows.

Azriel sighs and turns back to you. He hadn't been able to keep his secret from Mor — why, oh why did he think that he would have any more luck when it came to you?

You— enigmatic, wonderful you. Maybe, all Azriel hopes to do today is to delay the inevitable rejection for a different day. An easier day.

A day where he isn't feeling so easily undone by his the enormity of his envy. Envious of what he can't have but so desperately desires.

As he turns to face you, it's impossible to miss the way your eyes dart down to his bare chest. You stare for a moment too long and it looks like it takes an effort to drag your eyes up. You swallow heavily, the bob of your throat unmissable. Even from afar, Azriel swears there's a glow to your cheeks.

No. No, he wasn't doing that to himself anymore! He wouldn't— he couldn't be having those thoughts about you anymore. You had a lover for Mother's sake.

"I'm not—"

"Oh my Gods, don't even try to say you're not avoiding me." You interrupt him sharply. You begin to stamp your way down the hallway, eyes narrowed, your annoyance clear to see.

A door in the hallway opens. Distracted by something over his shoulder, Cassian takes a blundering loud step out into the hallway before he freezes.

He spots you first, eyes widening and wings bunching up at your obvious fury. His head turns, finding Azriel down the other end of the hallway.

"Oh... Mother, this is happening now, huh? I'm just gonna— uh, get food later." He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, quickly turning and disappearing back into his room. His door closes with a quiet snip.

In the moment of distraction, you don't notice how Azriel has moved away stealthily— his shadows aiding his quiet getaway. He's not entirely sure what his plan is; he doubts he can avoid this argument by simply shutting himself in his room. Turns out, he's selfish enough to be willing to try.

Sure enough, it takes another moment before his wings twitch, his shadows reporting on your incoming footsteps moments before he hears them himself.

He busies himself with digging through his drawers and sends a silent request to the House, praying it might keep the door locked against you.

He can do this— he can swallow down his burning heart and keep your friendship he values so dearly, he swears he can. Just not today.

He hears the door open.

Glancing up, he narrows his eyes at the House and calls it a foul word in his mind. The Faelights of his room seem to twinkle mischievously in response.

"Az," You breathe softly.

His name sounds unbearably tender coming from your lips. His wings give a little rustle, curling closer around himself.

Despite his lack of reply, you aren't deterred. He can hear your footsteps, gentle and not at all like your prior furious stomps down the hallway, as they wind around his bed.

Chest stirring with an old ache, he keeps himself facing away. He slips a shirt on and prays you give him one more day to rein in his treacherous heart. One more day. He just can't do it today.

"Did I... Did I do something?"

Your voice is suddenly a lot smaller.

Azriel softens instantly at the sound of it, feeling his resolve begin to crumble. He crushes his eyes closed and thinks of what he had seen down in Velaris — forces himself to imagine you with another Male, in his arms, in his bed.

But even if his jealousy is so terribly unwarranted, he cannot bring himself to lie to you.

"No," The word grates out his throat roughly.

Because it's the truth. You hadn't done anything wrong and— and Azriel refused to hurt you just because he couldn't contain a few rampant feelings.

"Really?" The tinge of annoyance is back in your words and Azriel can't even blame you.

"Because then why it is that you have been avoiding me since— since the day I was-"

You cut your own words off and Azriel fills in the blank on his own. Since the day down in the city—where I saw you entering another Male's home, hidden in your cloak, like you were meeting a lover— and even though you're completely allowed to do that, I am like every other gods forsaken jealous Male in Prythian, getting upset over this, even if you are not truly mine.

He turns to you finally, his hands clenched at his side and he wills the next sentence out.

"What or who you choose to spend your free time with—" He inhales a long breath, forcing his face to remain neutral even as he feels his teeth grit together. "—is none of my concern."

Your face scrunches up, confused. Then the furrow between your eyebrows is back and Azriel feels a tad nervous. You aren't often angry, least of all with him.

"Cauldron boil me," You bury your face into your hands for a second. Then you drag them down languidly with a groan, peeking up at him over your hands.

"Did you follow me?"

Azriel feels a bit off-guard. His voice isn't as sure when he says, "It is my duty to survey my court."

You bristle a little at that and the nervousness within him grows a little bigger.

"'Who I choose to spend my time with?'" You repeat his words back to him with a tone of incredulity, your hands motioning wildly before you. Faintly, Azriel begins to sense the feeling of foolishness rising within him.

"For Mother's sake, Az, I was buying you a birthday gift, not sleeping with him!"

The moment the words burst from your lips, two things happen. Azriel stiffens, the true nature of your stealthy endeavor through Velaris making a fool of him indeed.

You were... cloaked and hidden because you had been planning a surprise. For him. For his birthday. Something he hadn't even considered was around the corner as it held no high merit with him. His eyes widen and his lips part an inch.

And you — you straighten up, eyes wide, looking as though you've been struck by lightning.

"You were jealous." You gasp.

Not a question, a statement.

"No," Azriel denies, without thinking. His heart rabbits in his chest. The irony of acting out the way he did, because jealousy had blinded him in the first place, is not lost on him.

Suddenly, all his envy is washed away, replaced quickly by a bumbling foolish embarrassment. He wishes he could winnow out of the House. He considers the window behind him for a moment, if only to spare himself from revealing his true feelings to you.

One glance back at your face, your expression edging towards crestfallen, and any thoughts of running away vanishes.

"Yes." He quickly amends, voice meek.

His wings give a little shudder, twisting in closer as he realises what he's admitted aloud. How there was no coming back from this.

No one had ever made him as loose-tongued as you do. Azriel is embarrassed to be caught stumbling over his words.

"I realise..." He croaks out, suddenly finding the slats of the floorboards immensely more interesting. His shadows have slowed from their nervous frenzy, making lazy motions instead, as if to soothe him. "That may not be ideal. My feelings, that is."

A beat of silence. Azriel studies a spot on the floor intently. His heart flounders wildly behind his ribs. His embarrassment seeps something closer to mortification.

Your shoes peek into the edge of his vision and Azriel's head shifts up slowly, his hazel eyes finding yours and burning into them.

His shadows whisper a thousand things to him — but all of them are dulled, quietened, as he simply stares at you. Feels something between the pair of you hang in the balance, just a breeze from unraveling.

Your eyes are bright. Acutely, he realises he can smell relief rolling off you in heavy waves. Amongst it, too, is a hint of... happiness. Happiness.

“Oh, you big Illyrian baby,” You coo, a teasing lilt to your tone.

His cheeks grow warm. Something white-hot tips down his spine as you step in closer, swaying into his space. He can smell the alluring scent of you and his heart thrums in his chest at your nearness, aching to be closer.

"Some spymaster you are, huh?" You say, voice barely above a whisper.

Azriel stays silent but his head tilts to the side just an inch in his puzzlement, his eyebrows knitting together. Hazel eyes peer at you with such an intensity that it sends goosebumps crawling across your skin— his eyes searching your face for answers to his thousand questions.

"Knowing everything except for this." You continue, words feather-soft.

You don’t say what this is but Azriel thinks he knows. Hopes he knows. His hands at his sides clench tighter, his fingers curled up into fists, and the motion catches your attention.

Moving so slowly, you reach out and gingerly take his wrist between your delicate fingers. Azriel lets you. A whine crawls up in the back of his throat and his swallows it back down.

He watches closely as you pull his hand up, forward, cradling it with your own two. His fingers twitch, so unfamiliar with such tender touches.

The shadows scouring around his shoulders burst into a frenzy, circling down his arms and twirling around your intertwined hands. It's as though they're... dancing, Azriel thinks.

"I... hoped." He admits quietly, his voice full of longing.

You shift his mottled hand, turning it gently so his palm is facing yours. Then you hold your own up against it, like you're comparing hand sizes.

Azriel can barely tear his eyes off where your hand presses into his to look up at you. Something molten hot begins to scorch through his veins. A realisation. A dream that may be finally answered. It feels like pure starlight.

Your hand is dwarfed against his own scarred one — and when Azriel curls his fingers, they hug the top of yours gently. You press back against his hand, like the smallest hug back.

You murmur back. "You don't need hope."

Your gaze skirts up from your joined hands, your lips twitching into a nervous smile.

Your eyebrows have drawn together in the middle, just a bit, as though what's happening is something you find devastatingly beautiful. As though you think that way about him. About the two of you, together.

Azriel finds himself thinking of all he would give in the world —all the mountains he'd move and dragons he'd slay— for you to keep looking at him that way.

"You already have me."

#i'm so on the fence on whether i like this one ! >.< #but i do think he would be sooooo foolish once he got jealous #esp if u were nearly a thing but not quite #and i do think he wouldn't have a kiss. just a handhold #when u two finally come together :") #azriel x you #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger x you #acotar

[uncouth-the-fifth]

imagine damian and the reader at the wayne gala. he gets jealous when he sees her flirting with someone else. he ends up pulling her into a bathroom and fucking her in front of a mirror while saying that other person can’t treat her like he does

and that’s how the reader finds out damian has feelings for her. all this time he acted like he hates her because he’s in denial

Title: More Than They Ever Said

Paring: Robin!Damian (18+) / Canary!Reader

Tags/Warnings: semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, bathroom sex, slight underage drinking (reader is like 20 lol), mentions of golf.

Word Count: 7150

Notes: sooooo.... this def evolved beyond a drabble lol. the way gala sex kills me every time 😭 I was a little mushy w Dami here bc I miss his sweet side. This also sounded a lot like goldenspecs12's request from Wattpad, so I hope you don't mind that I meshed the two together 😚 I leaned toward Damian liking the reader more than being in denial, but that’s the only thing I sacrificed between the two requests. This one is my fluffiest and most romantic yet 💖

"can I request Damian w a Queen reader, like she's Oliver and Dinah's child? say the reader is a hero but not very active, like she comes in when her parents can't. so when she and Damian meet, they hit it off. The main request is that they sneak away at a gala held by Oliver and the reader and Damian have sex."

Ask to be added to my taglist for future posts!

The party was more fun than you thought it would be.

Benefits were usually chalk-full of old, wealthy people that thought they made good conversationalists. The board members of Queen Industries were tired of Oliver trying to escape their claws, so you’d been recruited in his place. While your dad got to play minigolf in the penthouse’s massive party floor, you were confined to the lounge, playing up what an intelligent, capable business partner you’d be when you were CEO. Fellow businessmen gruffed about their plans with you while their wives cooed and drank, pinching your cheeks.

You thought that you’d hate it, but the attention and the praise was nice. It made you feel like you were helping your dad and your family’s company, which was constantly criticized and judged for it’s choice in CEO. Everyone called your father a lazy silver-spooned idiot, but he was one of the only men in Star City who actually cared. By the time you had Q.I’s biggest donors laughing out of their seats, Dinah’s hands slipped over your shoulders and you were kissed on the side of the face. Thank you, she mouthed, and your position as family support-beam was covered.

Since most of the benefit-goers were at least forty years your senior, you gravitated to your dad. From the penthouse’s upper balcony, you could see his friends circling around the tiny green mats they were using as a makeshift golf course. Usually, Ollie made sure his public persona’s aim was as garbage as his taste in drink was. But tonight, he played as Green Arrow, who never missed. Not once. Especially when it came to Bruce Wayne, who’s golf game was abysmal at best.

But like Oliver, Bruce was a new man tonight. It looked like he was ready to break out the batarangs any minute now. The two men were barely civil about the viciousness of their competition, and if the view of the game from the balcony was interesting, then from below it must’ve been the greatest show of fragile masculinity ever displayed. You had to make fun of them.

The only opening in the circle of men, who all had their hands on their chins as Bruce lined up his next shot, was by the floor-to-ceiling windows to one side of the game. Just one man stood there, hands in his pockets. You slid next to him, unbothered, and squinted at the game.

Everyone in the crowd was dead silent. Bruce was lining up his golf ball so it would roll into a mug a couple of feet away, so you helpfully provided, “A little to the left, Mr. Wayne.”

Your words overlapped with someone else’s. Where you had said Mr. Wayne, they had said Father. Then the man next to you was his son, but...

You would have never guessed it would be him.

Reasonably, you knew that Robin was Damian Wayne. Oliver could be a little loose-lipped at times, and by his judgment you’d been a teenager just a year ago - what could a twenty year old do to Batman’s secret identity? Not much.

Until you saw Robin without his mask.

Damian was achingly beautiful. He was your age, but he stood and talked like he was much older. There was an angle to his shoulder that made him seem astute and sexy. His eyes fixed on you when you spoke at the same time, and they were a surprising mossy color that jumped out against his tan skin, like plants flourishing out of rich soil. There was just enough blue in them to make him seem haunting. Any moment, you felt like he was going to corner you and whisper your future throatily in your ear.

Looking into them, those piercing eyes, for longer than a second made you want to blurt, “You’re much prettier without your mask.”

But that would expose his secret to every golf-loving idiot in earshot, so Oliver had been wrong. A twenty-year-old like you could do fatal damage to Batman’s secret identity, but for Damian, the short-tempered, snappish leader of the Teen Titans, you would risk anything.

Damian stared, and you stared. He squinted, wet his lips, then turned back to the game. This was your only acknowledgment that he recognised you. His voice was deeper, smoother, than you remember it. “Queen.”

You shifted in your shoes, almost laughing in shock. “...Wayne.”

The game grew boring and Damian didn’t say anything else, so you said nothing too, sneaking glances at him. The last time you’d spoken to Robin had been in costume, when he’d thanked you for assisting with a mission. He’d really been thanking you for standing up for him. You didn’t team up often with the Titans, but when you did, you found that they were unusually snappy and mean with their leader. Not necessary on purpose, but you could tell that Damian couldn’t take as many bites as he pretended to. Standing up for him had been a simple thing. The good thing to do. Now, with that look in his eyes, it almost felt like he still thought about it.

He must have, because the kiss you shared at the end of that mission had glowed with heat. To be fair, you both may have believed you were going to die (before the team pulled through and saved you), so it could’ve been a heat-of-the-moment thing. But this was Robin - if he didn't want to kiss you, he wouldn't. And yet he did.

You’d kissed. And the energy of that kiss lingered between you now, drawing you closer together, putting tiny smiles on your faces. He was cute. Cuter without that mask on.

You stood in the stupid golf silence, feeling foolish. Flirting with boys was much easier in fishnets. It didn’t help how fine Damian’s profile was. He had soft, feathery lashes that occasionally touched down on beauty marked cheeks. His lips were even fuller from the side, forever drawn in a curious line. And those eyes, when they caught yours and danced away again, were much too nice to hide behind a mask. You couldn’t get that thought out of your mind.

When Bruce finally made his move, you leaned in to whisper something to each other at the same time, accidentally knocking shoulders.

“I - apologies,” Damian flushed.

“Oh, um, my bad,” you rubbed awkwardly at the spot where you’d collided. “...You were going to say something?”

Damian’s eyes flicked to your fathers, then to you, unimpressed. He lowered his voice so only you could hear. “They’re awfully hypocritical, don’t you think? Father snaps at me everytime I use my skills in public, and yet he’s putting with perfect aim like it’s not the very same.”

Chuckling, you rolled your eyes and scooted closer, ducking your voice into the bubble between your bodies. “My dad’s the same way. Don’t aim in the house, he says, unless it’s him trying to beat Bruce Wayne.”

Your company’s shoulders turned sideways, leaning into you. His breath ghosted the hair on your neck, standing it on end, and again that silky voice sent tingles down your spine. Damian must change his voice as Robin, because he never spoke like this then. So huskily, so low.

He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

You watched him. He watched you. You ran your tongue over your teeth, and Damian subtly adjusted his slacks from his pockets.

At the same time, you asked each other, “Would you like to get a drink?”

_

Your hiding place was a loveseat in the lounge, between more businessmen and their ditzy heirs. The bartender was your family’s, so he smiled and turned down your request for a drink, courtesy of your dad’s strictness. Luckily, he didn’t recognise Damian. You watched him order it at the bar, his rings catching the light, the muscle in his arms peeking out from under his blazer.

“I think he suspected I wasn’t of age, so he only gave me one.” He took the place next to you, propping his ankle on one knee and lounging out like a panther. Damian offered the cocktail to you, once he’d decided the coast was clear. It was a cute gesture. “Is that acceptable?”

You fished a five dollar bill out of your purse. “Only if you take this for paying. Don’t think I didn’t see you try and sneakily get that past me.”

Damian scrutinized the bill, then you, somehow managing to be a smartass without opening his mouth. Instead of thinking about how nice it would feel to kiss the slight crease between his brows, you traded hands with him so the bill was in his and the drink was in yours. The gentle brush of you palm to his knuckles put way too many butterflies in your belly.

You talked about everything and anything. About home, family life, your cities. The best of it was when Damian dipped his head so only you could hear him, keeping your secrets close and your bodies closer. This was the only way he talked about Robin, so you circled back to any vigilante subject you could think of just so Damian would keep purring into your ear like that. Better yet, he was smart. Talking to him was engaging, and within minutes he'd entranced you, so you sat there talking for more than an hour. Around you, the party rotated and went on.

At one point, you took a drink of the cocktail and passed it to him to share. Damian placed his lips right where yours had been, licking up the cocktail salt and gulping it down slow, adam’s apple bobbing, like it wasn’t the taste of the vodka he was savoring.

Eventually, your bliss was broken. Damian was called over to his father, again, to discuss business, and he left you with your remaining cocktail and the memory of that mission. You couldn’t find a reason to move from your seat. When you’d realized that you and Robin had been led into a trap on that mission, it’d been too late, and your efforts to escape became more and more futile. All you could do was pray the Titans got to you on time. Robin had offered you his glove as the walls closed in, and you’d watched up-close as he assumed you were both about to die. The fear in his eyes was strange - like it was familiar to him. At the same time, you cupped his neck and he held your upper back, and you’d kissed fervently, sweetly.

Damian had put his forehead to yours, and promised even as the trap shrunk around you, “You were excellent. More excellent than they ever said.”

In the big picture, it was a strange last remark to make, and afterwards you’d been too happy about surviving to think about it. But in the moment, you understood. You were understood. Somehow, Damian had reached into your soul and gouged out the words you’d been dying to hear, from your parents, from anyone, and uttered them to you with burning conviction. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe he meant it. Damian found you excellent. Someone, somewhere, didn’t think you were a failure.

Odd, how you’d never seen the face of the man you thought you’d die with (until now), and yet he saw you so easily. You watched him follow his father into the party crowd now, wondering. The Titans had saved you before you could ask what he’d meant. More importantly, before you could tell him the same. He was excellent.

_

Once you’d finished off your drink, you left it at the bar and grinned evilly at your family bartender. He rolled his eyes and slyly delivered you another, which, on your superhero schedule, would not have you drunk yet. Another heir to some big company was seated at your right, ignored by his father enough to look for some small talk with you.

He was one of the cute, nerdy types that were usually in awe of you. Girls, available girls, were typically rare at these kinds of parties, so he took you not having a boyfriend as permission to flirt with you. Unfortunately for him, your seat gave a perfect angle on Damian across the party floor. He was impressing the wives of Wayne business partners, who flocked around him like they’d flocked around you, pinching his cheeks. You could almost read their lips enough to guess what they were saying. What a handsome young man you are! Oh, Bruce must be so proud.

“...and then my father flipped over his kayak! Would you believe it? Two thousand dollars, thrown right in our family’s lake.” Your company snickered, howling at his own story.

You circled the rim of your glass, watching how Damian tried to teach some of the women phrases in Arabic. Unknown to them, they were some pretty funny swear words. It threw you into a bout of giggles, and the man next to you kept talking, spurred on by the noise.

The flock of hens around Damian receded, and his shoulders slouched in relief. That was cute, too. It wasn’t often that people understood how draining these parties were, but for people like you and Damian, it was a racetrack of endless, boring circles. Everything was a formality. Few things were genuine. Damian turned, and you caught his eye to let him know you were going to meet him. He nodded toward a side hall, his mouth a curious line again. If you looked at it long enough, it felt like a smile when he mouthed, escape?

Your company was still talking. He stopped when you grabbed his tie and planted a pity-kiss on his cheek, waving to him as you bounced away. “Sorry, kid. Not my type.”

_

You planned to bring Damian to the secluded balcony on the second floor to unwind, but instead, you were taken by the wrist and maneuvered into an empty powder room. It was colder than the steaming party air and smelled like champagne, with couches to sit on and mirrors to powder at. For a bathroom, the lights were warm and low. The noise of the party went quiet the instant the door was shut, like you and Damian had entered your own little world. No more circles. No more back and forth.

“Here,” Damian said, noting the mirrors. He tilted his head as he asked, like he was nervous, “Is this acceptable?”

“It is the ladies powder room, but I’ll give you a pass, since you’re cute.” You joked. Damian didn’t make a move to relax on one of the couches yet, hanging in front of you like there was more he wanted to say. There was more you wanted to say, too, but no good words came to mind.

But the silence wasn’t awkward. Again, Damian stared, and you stared. The glass he brought with him was set down. He put one fist on the counter beside the door, and like honey had been poured on your nerves, you realized how easy it would be for him to push you up against it. Kiss you senseless. Heat drooled off of him this close, and you wondered if he’d still lean in to whisper to you even if you were alone.

The lack of words drew to a point where something had to be said, anything, but his eyes felt so good on your skin and it was interesting to see him nervous. Something strange told you that Damian liked the silence, too.

You wet your lips with your tongue. Damian cleared his throat, and took a sip from his glass. “Was I interrupting something?”

“Between me and that guy?” You smiled gently, like you were reassuring him, and laughed to yourself. “Oh, man, you should’ve seen it, Damian. Poor kid really thought I was flirting with him. He’d totally convinced himself, it was hilarious.”

His profile was tense in the mirror, which you stole glances at to watch how the amber light played on his handsome skin. When Damian swallowed his drink, his throat rolled in the sexiest way, and immediately your mind fed you with visions of suckling, kissing, tonguing his neck.

“Why’d you ask?” Your eyes sparkled. Damian drew a step closer, and you used the opportunity to swipe a drop of alcohol from the corner of his lip with your thumb. “You jealous?”

It was the touch or the suggestion that made Damian pause. He didn’t stutter, but lagged over what to say, eyes vast and wanting as they raked over your face. “I don’t get jealous,” he clarified, “but… I do intend to be the only man to kiss you tonight.”

Damian’s hand took your chin. Your belly exploded with instant arousal, hitting you like a bullet of liquid lust. “You’re the only man who’s kissed me like that,” you whispered, taking his tie in hand. “I hope that’s always true.”

His voice had gone throaty. “May I kiss you again?”

Again, he reminded you.The two of you had kissed before, and it had been spectacular, terrifying, and excellent.

“Please,” you said, and Damian rushed to your aid.

Not a moment more was wasted. Curling his tie into your fist, you drew him in, slow and deep and wonderfully. Damian’s cologne hit you before his lips did, and both made your core throb for friction. Two broad hands slammed your hips into the door. His fingertips smoothed up the fabric of your dress, pressing you back and squeezing you in until you could feel his belt buckle against your belly. Damian was a sweet, magnetic kisser, chasing your lips like he was on a crusade to save them. Each time they met, he swam deeper. The point of his nose bumped against your cheek. You hummed your laugh against his lips, and Damian groaned as he pulled away, readjusting, twisting, testing the limits of the kiss. And you followed him at every step or more, revelling in his taste.

You didn’t want him to think you wanted the kiss to end, so you drew the hands braced under his blazer around his neck. Soon, that didn’t feel close enough, so you cupped each side of his face and pecked Damian until you were breathless. He brought you in until your arms were flat to his chest, the kiss almost vertical in its intensity.

He groaned when you parted, gasping and blinking just inches from your face. Your mouths were still connected by a thick string of drool, which hung until it split and clung to Damian’s chin and fell, marking a wet strip down into his collar. You panted, watching it go.

Damian left your waist to hold your wrists, keeping your hands around his face. He settled warmly into your touch, basking in it, and the pure enjoyment on his face made you smile. You wondered if anyone else had cared for him like this. If Damian had ever felt someone hold his face and treasure it. The thought gave you a strange urge, so you followed it.

You brought Damian’s brow level with your mouth and sweetly kissed his forehead. Then his nose bridge, then his temples. His face was so quickly warm that you giggled. In the most unsubtle way possible, Damian drew back his hips so you couldn’t feel the heat there, and closed his eyes, begging you to continue.

“I want you,” you whispered against his jaw.

Damian shivered. “You have me.”

You shifted one hand to his shoulder, giving yourself more room to nuzzle and kiss his neck. The line of drool was still there, so you cupped his skin and tilted his jaw up, and in one stroke, licked all the way to his earlobe. Damian’s moan poured from his mouth like a growing flood. You even felt his thighs press together between you, and pleasure tingled in your throat when he choked at the glide of your tongue.

He released your wrists, reached beside you, and locked the door with an audible click.

Then, Damian devoured you. Both hands hooked around your back, arching your chest into his, and finally, bringing his bulge between your hips. You clung to him for dear life, helpless as his teeth pressed into your neck like a vampire. Damian fed like one, too, suckling the skin there like he was starved. Your panties were so wet that you were desperate to get out of them, grinding your core against his.

Damian retreated, gasping. He licked the spit off of his lips and glared into your eyes. Bluntly, he said, “I want to eat you out.”

Once more, you kissed him, delirious with excitement. Your lungs burned for air, but your core burned harder for him. “Take off that suit and you can do whatever you want to me.”

His eyes gleamed. “I plan to.”

Quickly, you shoved your hands into his sleeves and pushed them off his shoulders, giving you a crisp glimpse at his carved shoulders. Damian's fingers blurred from button to button, but he saved the last for you on purpose. You worked in tandem and with little thought. If he could, Damian would steal a kiss, and you would bite his lip and chase him into more. When that last button was popped, his white button-down parted for a gorgeous plane of hard-earned muscle. His abs, ribs and pecs were pockmarked with scars, shrapnel marks and in some places, bullet holes. You stopped.

At your staring, Damian pressed his lips together.

“It's.. not appealing, I know,” he monotoned.

“No,” you disagreed, palming his stomach, “it’s impressive. All these do is show how strong you are, how long you've survived. You're so… built...” you didn't hide your thorough examination of him, “...I mean, we have to be to do what we do, but still… It suits you. It's sexy.”

You worried you'd ruined the moment with your babbling, but he glimmered under your praise. Damian brightened in the way only Damian could, smirking devilishly and towering over you like a supervillain.

“Sexy?” He pressed his naked chest into yours, whispering hotly in your ear. You could feel his silk tie pinned between you. “Does that mean I'm your type?”

You rolled your eyes. “Eavesdropper.”

“Temptress,” Damian replied, just as easily.

To claim your title, you found Damian's belt and pulled on it until the clasp gave. It made a satisfying whipping noise as you ripped it off of him, shouldered into his space to grab his waist in one hand, and cupped his throbbing boxers in the other. Damian's sigh came hoarsely and wanton from his mouth.

“Fuck me,” you demanded, grinning with delight.

Instead of wasting time on a response, Damian fell to his knees, a faithful worshipper. He did the gentlemanly thing and helped you kick off your heels. The tile was icy on your bare feet, but it only mattered until Damian ran his hands up your thighs. Sliding his fingers underneath the fabric, he bunched it up your middle, peering up at you smugly through his lashes. You could feel the debauchery of it - Damian, on his knees, tie hanging still from his neck, pinning you to the door. You, your legs spread and wanting.

Damian sucked in a breath. Your panties had an obvious wet patch, put there by him. He thumbed it carefully, watching your brows tense and your eyes close, basking in your initial whine. All of it enchanted him. You were soaking because of him, trembling because of him, marked because of him. There was not one place he would rather be than here.

Damian collected your sweetness and sampled the taste on his thumb, trapping it behind his smug smile. He ran his tongue over his teeth, spreading the flavor around his mouth, savoring it. As Damian rolled your underwear down your legs, his cock twitched in his open fly. You were beautiful. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

“Put your leg over my shoulder,” Damian ordered, smirking, “I want to taste you.”

Warmth exploded in your cheeks. “G-go ahead.”

Gradually, you situated your leg across his back, pussy tensing at the touch of the cooler air. This didn't matter for long. Damian's warm lips nuzzled and kissed the thigh closest to him, painting messy reflective circles on your skin with his kiss. Even that made your legs tense wildly, so Damian shoving his wet, blazing tongue into the folds of you cunt pumped moan after moan from your mouth.

“Damian!” You yelped.

Oh, he definitely liked that. Damian pinched your ass and used his mouth so passionately that his head shook back and forth. He darted right for your clit, sucking it until his cheeks were hollow and humming smugly between your legs with every squeal. Parting your folds with one hand, Damian kissed your core just as dirtily as he'd kissed you. The dangerous glint in his eye never faded. He plunges his tongue inside you in earnest, slurping obscenely, purposefully. There's no need for Damian to shoot you cute looks or put on a show - his skill was the performance, because that skill was unbeatable. Your pussy was already tender, fucked nerveless by Damian's filthy mouth. He vibrated your cunt with a deep groan before he drew away, face dripping with slick like a pornstar’s.

“You're suitably wet,” he said, matter-of-factly, “would you like me to use my fingers?”

All the strength you had went into a weak, pleading nod.

Damian was polite enough to grant you your bearings first, letting you grip his hair and squeeze the counter before he resumes. You give him the sweetest, most precious whine when Damian licks you open again. He wisely starts with one finger and builds from there, earning you with pumps and curls of his digits. Damian's talents quickly become a currency, one that you exchange with mewls and pants of praise.

“So good,” you whine, “oh, fuck - fuck, just like that…”

Damian smirks between your legs, jamming his fingers faster into your sore pussy. Lust sizzles low in your gut, ramped up again and again by his thrusting. It’s so powerful that you roll and buck off the door, your hips in his face. You want him - want him more than you want anything.

“You're ravaging,” Damian hums between licks. His eyes are closed, but that only gives the way he touches you more meaning.

It’s so surprising from his mouth that your hold on his hair slips, setting Damian free. He pants, catching his breath, and it’s easily the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. The effort has slouched him from his knees to his calves, further spreading his legs and opening up the fly of his pants. A solid bulge has formed and spilled out there, straining to escape his briefs like an arm in a sling that’s too small, way too small, for someone of his size. Three of Damian’s fingers are still twisting inside of you.

Slowly, Damian tipped back his head and hung down, arranging himself beneath your cunt. “So beautiful.” His free hand splayed where your leg met your hip. “May I touch you?”

“I-I get it’s the gentleman thing to do, to - to keep asking, but fuck, Damian,” you cursed, “you can do whatever you want to me.”

Damian’s intense jade eyes were so dilated that you could barely make out the color. He dragged his cheek against your thigh, fingers still circling inside you, and grinned like a shark. It was probably a bad idea to give the heir to the Demon’s Head that much power over you.

His other hand squeezed your skin, slow to passionate, from your belly to your breasts beneath your dress. It’s clear by the way Damian looks at you that he loves what he sees. The texture of his veiny, calloused hands feels good on your waist and ass, dragging you closer to him. He chuckles when your back arches, when your nails press into his hands, his back muscles, throwing himself into his task. Damian’s nose prods your folds as he licks you clean, tongue dipping and sliding against your sore clit. It’s like he’s done this for you before, in this exact way. Though he utilizes his tongue the most, his lips too are brutal, matched perfectly to fit your pussy lips.

But that tongue - how Damian’s jaw isn’t tired, you don’t know. He parts your folds and latches onto your clit, flicking his tongue at superspeed until drool and cum bubbles from your sensitive core. Your back winds tighter at every vibrating lick, paralyzing the muscles in your legs with glorious pleasure. It’s so exquisite you start to melt to the floor like warm clay, only to be bolstered back up by Damian, both hands viciously squeezing your ass. He keeps going not for you, but himself, sucking down every last drop of your juices.

Shattered, you twist hopelessly into his mouth, chasing the strained feeling like it’s the last you’ll ever glimpse. “Fuck, fuck - D-Damian, ah…”

“Did it feel good when I made you cum?” He teases, “It certainly tastes good. All those filthy little noises you make for me…” Damian shakes his head at himself, like it’s too fantastic to indulge again. He leaves your clit with a satisfied kiss. “Beautiful.”

Once more, the words are surprising to hear from him. You always considered Damian the prude type, but here he is, on his knees for you, mouth and chin glittering with your juices while he teases you in low, sexy tones. At your surprised look, Damian has the gall to blush.

With his ring finger in his mouth, he ponders, “If a man has never said that to you before...” pop, “consider me surprised.”

“Never while finger-fucking me, at least,” you admited, legs still trembelling. “It was sweet. You… you meant that?”

It was hard to imagine Damian Wayne finding anything beautiful. Even you, who was pretty enamored with him, figured he would judge by quality or skill, not beauty. The words tasted new on his tongue.

Slowly, Damian stood and stretched, his shoulders tight after staying in the strange position for so long. Lifting his arms coincidentally let his waistband sit lower on his hips, flashing his green boxers your way while showing off the huge, carved muscles of his arms. Truly, Damian’s subtlety was unmatched. You didn’t mind his miniature bragging fest - not when he had so much to brag about. Eating you out had put an excited shimmer in his skin, so the gold-toned lights of the room reflected sexily off his sweat, already accenting his kissable tan.

“I did,” he told you, moving on to his sucking middle finger. His other hand played on your thigh, stroking it. “I’ve always been… drawn to you. Every mission we’ve had together. I have a profound feeling that we are very similar.”

You laughed. Not at what he said, but the timing of it. “Would you believe me if I said I felt the same way?”

Damian made a face like his heart was doing jumping jacks. “A few hours ago? No. But now…” he barricaded you against the door, first with his hands and then his hips, closed in so tightly that you had to look past your nose to meet his eyes. “Your crush is adorably obvious. I’m annoyed that I didn’t see it before.”

Your rounded your hands against Damian’s shoulders, then his tie. It twisted nicely around your fingers, silky and cold in comparison to your flushed skin. You were tempted to fix your dress, but nothing, not even the world ending, could make you leave this room.

“My crush is obvious? Damian, all you’ve done for the last two hours is sneak me drinks and imply how much easier it is to be around me.” You grinned, “What’d you say earlier? There you are, Queen. Finally, someone intelligent enough to speak to me.”

Damian shrugged. “It’s true. Your knowledge of bioluminescent ocean life is fascinating.”

“I can’t believe you said that after giving me head for ten minutes.”

“It’s actually been closer to twelve,” Damian smirked.

Playfully, you pinched Damian’s cheek, then pulled him by the tie into a starved, energetic kiss. He must’ve been praying for your permission to continue, because the plan he’d been forming is quickly put into action. You’re hugged, arms scooped under your back as you kiss him. Damian surrenders his mouth to a bit of revenge tonguing while undoing your dress. No amount of kissing will pull him from his task, but your hand is a special case - it smooths down the front of his boxers and Damian melts.

“Y/N,” he groans.

Damian petulantly resists the temptation to close his eyes, but your touch is soft and sweet, demanding him to yield. Your lips suckle on his neck and Damian’s knees buckle. If getting his mouth between your legs didn’t turn him on, then this will finish him for sure.

“I missed you. Kissing you.” You purr into his throat. “One could never be enough for me.”

Is this what it’s like to be wanted? Damian asked himself. The only possible answer thrilled him, and he found himself pouring even more passion into the kiss, into you, wanting to share that rush of affection. You respond to his every touch with vigor. Damian’s heart stalls each time your thumb strokes his face, each time the other strokes him through his slacks.

“Me either,” he rasped, and helped you out of your dress. His tone was shy, but his words held too much depth to be meaningless. I want a wealth of them. I always want to kiss you, was what he wanted to say, but Damian was too embarrassed to raise the words. This moment was too special to ruin with his hopeless romanticism. He kissed you again and again, and to his amazement, you kissed him right back.

“Fuck me,” you begged him between breaths. “Right here. I don’t care if we’re caught.”

I don’t care if we’re seen together. I want to be seen with you, I’m not ashamed of you.

Damian cupped your face and almost knocked you both over with the strength of his kiss. Nose-to-nose, eyes closed, he commanded, “Bend over the fucking counter.”

In a blink, Damian turned and there you were, open and waiting for him. The sink was hip-level, so the bend was nothing but perfect - Damian could fuck you from behind and watch your lust-blown reflection without issue. Your perfect pussy drooled leftover cum down your legs, making your sex shine in the light.

In the mirror, you watched Damian’s eyes darken in delight. His pupils followed the line of your ass to your back, appreciating it like an artist would, like he intended to paint you later and needed to memorize the greatest shapes of your figure. The marble was icy against your hard nipples, which Damian had exposed when he’d impatiently shoved down your bra. Now, he cupped one of your breasts as he bent over you, kissing and suckling his way down your back.

“Perfect,” Damian hissed.

Shyly pressing your butt back against him, you buried your face in your arms and bit your lip, waiting for him to open you up. Damian’s shadow came to hover over you, and in the mirror his eyes were vicious, pools of circling sharks. “Are you ready?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Take your time.”

Though you weren’t being sarcastic, Damian took it that way and pinched one cheek of your ass. “With you? I will.” Then, with the same smoothness, Damian asked, “Condom?”

“Pill,” you replied, and Damian nodded his approval.

His pants rustled as they fell down his legs. Where you couldn’t see, Damian committed the sight to memory - his cock in hand, your pussy spread open, all for him. You squeaked when his hot tip touched your cooling clit, and squeaked again when it glided down your pussy and tested your opening. He knew he’d found the way when you winced.

In an unsurprising moment of compassion (for those who truly knew him), Damian kissed the top of your head and offered you his hand. “Would you like to hold it while I…?”

You took his hand and squeezed it to your chest, squeezing him closer in the process, too. “Thank you. Go slow, for this part…”

Damian complied. His sweat-sticky chest hovered warmly over your back. Even if Damian was big, you were wetter than you’d ever been in your entire life - any pain would quickly slide into pleasure. He braced himself with a deep inhale, and a hot, sharp sensation told you that he’d entered you. Where you choked in a needy gasp, Damian poured out his version of a whimper. You both held it. Then, breath by breath, you were struck with the realization that you’d been dying to feel this for weeks, for months, and only now was that heat being satisfied. Damian’s tongue and fingers had come close, but this is what would cure that aching emptiness - his big, girthy cock.

The deathgrip you had on Damian’s hand loosened. “You look perfect,” he murmured into your hair, instantly making your core flutter. “Oh,” he chuckled filthily, “you like that? Funny, how badly that idiot at the bar wanted to be in my place right now…but it’s me who gets to pound into—”

“Damian,” you warned.

He smiled smugly against your neck. “Nothing.”

Dutifully, Damian withdrew his hips, taking all of the heat with him. When he rolled back in, a hot, tingling sensation roared over all of your senses, and you let the moan at the top of that tsunami loose. It was clear that he couldn’t fuck you like he wanted to with one hand fished down at your side, so he glued both to the base of your back and started to thrust in earnest.

“So full...” You mewled, and Damian became a human pile-driver.

Your head seemed to roll off your shoulders with every crazed, rhythmic slam, so you grabbed the faucet and held on for dear life. Every slap was so loud, so powerful, that you prayed this one random bathroom in the penthouse was soundproofed. Anyone walking past would know you were getting railed out of your mind. You tried to compensate by moaning and squeaking quietly, but with force came volume. It didn’t matter how silent you were, Damian’s hips, your ass, the squelch of him inside you - each noise filled the bathroom, echoing off the tile.

The only way you could think to describe him was filling. First, there was the hot, cinching tension of his hands fused to your waist. Then there was his cock, which begged to be squeezed more and more with every pass. You responded to each throb with a mighty clench, which bent Damian over you like an animal, gasping for breath. His balls were painted with your slick. The closer you came to orgasm together, the closer Damian came to you. His hands migrated to higher on your sides, then up by your shoulders, then around you, where Damian kissed your back and rubbed your belly while he made love to you. He talked more than he moaned. Your ear was filled with sweet nothings, with vicious promises of what he would do with a whole night alone with you.

Damian’s reflection was wild with lust. He met your eyes as he fucked you, whispering how beautiful you are, how good you take his dick. His deep green eyes were so dark you couldn’t make out the brown in them anymore. The long muscles on his arms drew taut with each thrust, making his biceps bulge and pin your hips to the sink. Soon enough, a bruise would form from the pressure. One of many treasures from tonight - you would be thinking about Damian in his crisp suit for months to come, and the mess he’d become with you now even longer. Your pleasure built and built and built, like a nail struck further into the ground with a hammer. A very, very big hammer.

“M’ cumming,” Damian husked, slowing his plowing to a sloppy glide. Even his endurance was spent, and you were glad he’d spent it all on you. “Where d’ you…?”

You braced your hands on the counter, then on one of Damian’s. Together, you smoothed his digits down your stomach and between your soft, abused folds. “Inside me, please, please please—” you begged him, “fuck, a-as deep as you can go.”

As a test of your flexibility, Damian turned in and kissed you. Just as he parted your lips with his tongue, he parted your folds with his fingertips, overriding your clit as his cock throbbed inside you to the hilt. He took the invitation as a command. Damian pressed in until you could feel his abs mold to your ass, then stuttered his hips in quick, agonized dips to get himself there. With his fingers and his cock putting stars in your eyes, you finished first.

The white marble counter fizzed in your vision, until all you could see was that powerful, endless white, humming in your mind’s eye. Still, Damian wasn’t finished yet. You bumped your temple against his chin and hummed, “Cum for me, baby… fuck, a-ah!”

Your pussy’s throb raced and raced until it spilled over, pulling Damian right under the current. One clench and he was done for, so the velvety, periodic squeeze of your cunt emptied his store. You hung there, spasming in unison, until that overwhelming heat spurted in a ring around Damian’s cock and flooded out of you. Only then did his fingers stop on your clit, and you settled warmly in each other's arms and tried to remember your names and who you were.

Damian pulled out, then snuggled back in. He would’ve been nervous any other time, but he’d just put his dick inside you, so a little instinctive cuddling could be forgiven. On shaky legs, you turned around and sunk into him. You could tell by how he was eyeing the sink that he was desperate to get clean again, so with one kiss (on the cheek), you set Damian loose.

In companionable silence, Damian cleaned up and you collected the clothes abandoned on the floor. Staring at the corner where you’d just had the best sex of your life put an embarassingly pleasant warmth in your chest. Interesting, how one terrifying moment could become something as special as this. Fascinating, how you’d felt like you’d known him all your life.

“You know… I think you’re excellent, too.” You told him, finishing off the knot for his tie.

Damian dipped his head to hide his smile, but something so bright was impossible to hide.

#damian wayne smut #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x reader smut #damian wayne x you #robin smut #robin #dc smut #dc comics #dc #user uncouth

[seanfalco]

Your Secret’s Safe with Me | Nathan Young x Reader

Word count: 2.4k Warnings: Smut/Pegging, Language a/n: tbh I struggled with this, and I’m not sure if I’m exactly happy with it, but I wanted to get it out before Thursday was over.  Just some consensual pegging.  I wanted Nathan’s first time to be comfortable for him with healthy communication. A huge thank you to @midnightseance​ for the gif >:3

“Whoa!  What’re y’doin’?” Nathan yelped, jerking away from your hand as it traveled lower still, the pad of your finger circling his hole.

“Sorry, I got a little carried away,” you replied breathlessly, glancing at him apologetically.  “Did it feel good at all?” you wondered and Nathan frowned, a conflicted look crossing his face as he thought about it.

“Do it again,” he said hesitantly and you slowly resumed your exploration, watching his expression.

“Does that feel good?”

“...Maybe,” he relented reluctantly and a small grin tugged at your lips.

“Maybe, huh?  Would you like me to make you feel good?” you asked between kisses, your tongue teasing his nipple as your finger pressed against him.  “I’ve heard it can be quite pleasurable, and I’ve always wanted to peg someone,” you mused, and Nathan looked thoughtful, conflicted. 

“Alright, I s’pose,” he relented begrudgingly, “but not... right now, I need some time t’mentally prepare,” he murmured, pulling you back up to his face, meeting your kisses with fervor.  “I’ll let yeh peg me properly, but first, I think it’s time for me to take advantage of you.”  

“It’s not taking advantage if I want you to,” you laughed, but Nathan merely shrugged, rolling you to your back. 

“Now you’re just splittin’ hairs.”

——

For the remainder of the week neither you nor Nathan spoke of what had happened or your tentative plans, in fact you half wondered if Nathan had already changed his mind.  You wouldn’t hold it against him if he had, though you’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited to try it with him, the thought of fucking your boyfriend into the mattress, and the sounds he might make aroused you more than you cared to admit.

Your afternoon off, you decided to leave your boyfriend a little gift, hoping he’d find it as sexy as you did -- a little sneak peek to hopefully get him in the mood.

While Nathan was at work, you pulled out the camcorder and tripod to record a short video, sporting your sexiest pair of lingerie and wearing the strap, posing seductively on the bed, hoping you didn’t look completely foolish.

Purposefully leaving the camcorder set up, you dressed and got to work on dinner, waiting for Nathan to get home.

“Hey!” he called as he came through the door, toeing his trainers off to leave in the middle of the hall before joining you in the kitchen.

“Hey,” you replied, grinning as he embraced you from behind.  “How was work?”

“Way too fuckin’ long,” he complained, dropping his face to your shoulder.  “What’re you makin’?” he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him as he sniffed the air moments later, work already forgotten.

“Frozen pizza, but it's one of those fancy ones and I added a few things,” you answered, turning in Nathan’s embrace to face him as he hummed delightedly.

“No one told me I was datin’ a chef,” he exclaimed with a cheesy smile that made you laugh.

“You’re such an ass,” you exclaimed, poking him in the ribs.

“Hey, that was a genuine compliment!” he whined and you relented, smirking as you pulled him forward by the collar for a kiss.

“Aren’t you sweet?” you murmured against his lips and you felt him grin.

“The sweetest,” he replied cheekily, kissing you back.  

After dinner Nathan followed you into the kitchen to deposit his empty plate in the sink, once more trapping you in his arms, his hands already wandering.  “Sooooo, what d’ya wanna do now?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows, full of insinuation, and you rolled your eyes.

“Actually, I have something for you in the bedroom,” you said, attempting to keep a straight face, steering him where you wanted him.

“Oh?” he asked, his eyebrows climbing, a mixture of intrigue and genuine confusion on his face.

“Mhmm,” you answered, nudging him toward the door.  

Before entering, Nathan leaned in curiously, and catching sight of the camcorder still set up his face brightened and he glanced back at you over his shoulder. 

“Oh, I see,” he exclaimed, knowing what that meant and rubbing his hands together excitedly as he hurried to go watch the recording you’d left him.

Though you wanted to see his reaction, you busied yourself with cleaning up dinner, waiting for his answer to the question you’d posed in the video.  Several minutes later Nathan cleared his throat from the door and you spun to face him. 

“Yes?” you asked, excitement coursing through you and you fought against the urge to rub your thighs together against your building arousal.

“I’m uh, I’m gunna take a quick shower,” Nathan announced, a little awkwardly, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb, but you could see in his eyes he was as excited as you were, if not a little nervous too.

This was your sign he wanted this.

“Alright,” you replied, unable to keep the small grin from your face.  “I’ll see you soon,” you murmured, pushing off the counter to press a kiss to his lips as you slipped past him to the bedroom to get ready yourself.

Watching you for a moment, Nathan shook himself, already undressing on his way to the bathroom and soon you heard the water turn on.  By the time he stepped back into the bedroom, towel around his waist and his usually poofy curls plastered wetly to his face, you were waiting on the edge of the bed in the same lingerie as before and you didn’t miss the way Nathan’s gaze traveled hungrily over you as he moved closer.  

“You look --” he paused to whistle as he stopped in front of you and you gazed up at him through your eyelashes, a smirk twisting your lips as your eyes traveled down his damp chest to his hips, his erection already tenting the towel wrapped round his waist.

“Someone’s excited,” you pointed out, your hands tugging at the towel and Nathan let it fall unabashed to the floor before shimmying his hips, making his cock swing enticingly.

“How can I not be when y’look like that?” he exclaimed and you reached out, sliding your hand over his length, gripping him as you stood and switched him spots, releasing his cock to push him to his back.

As he hit the bed, Nathan gaped up at you, his jaw falling open as you knelt before him, positioning yourself between his knees.  

“Are you nervous?” you asked, stroking him again and a soft moan left his lips.

“Me, nervous?” he exclaimed, lifting his head to peer down at you, forcing a laugh.  “I don’t even know th’meanin’ of the word!  I’ve got nerves of steel, baby!” 

Leveling him a skeptical look, you dipped your head to run your tongue along the underside of his cock, coaxing forth another breathy moan.

“It’s okay if you are… nervous,” you murmured, pausing to kiss the side of his length and then the other side.

Nathan groaned, squirming slightly at your ministrations before speaking up again.

“Have you… ever done this… before?” he asked hesitantly and you once more lifted your face to regard him.

“Technically you’re the first,” you answered slowly and Nathan’s brows raised.  “Well, first guy, at least.  I’ve fucked some girls with a strap on before,” you continued and his face fell slightly.

“Well now I’m kinda jealous,” he muttered and you snorted a laugh.

“Oh c’mon, you’re the only one I wanna rail now, babe.  I’ll show you you have nothin’ to be jealous about,” you murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to the tip of his cock before swirling your tongue around it.

Nathan let out a strangled sigh as his head fell back, and as you lavished his cock with attention you reached for the bottle of lube you’d set out on the bedside table.

Pulling his cock from your mouth for a moment to concentrate, you squirted some of the lube into your hand, coating your finger generously.  

“If you want me to stop at any time, just say so,” you said as you gently ran your slick finger around the rim of his hole, and you could practically feel him tense, clenching.  “I need t’get you ready for the toy,” you murmured, rubbing your finger in slow circles now.  “So try to relax, Nathan, focus on how good it feels.”

“Right.  Yeah,” he answered disjointedly and you smiled to yourself as you took his length back into your mouth while you worked his hole, feeling him start to finally relax.

When you began to push your finger into him he let out a sharp whine, but you kept bobbing your head as you pushed deeper, slowly inserting your finger to the second knuckle, relishing the noises he made.

When you added a second finger you felt him tense once more, but soon he was baring down on you, almost eager.  

Working his ass til you felt he was ready you gave his cock one last good suck before standing and adjusting the harness around your waist.  Quickly lubing up the silicone dildo, Nathan watched, strangely silent for once, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“Do I hadta turn over and stick my ass in th’air or anythin’?” he asked, a small tremor to his voice and you looked up from your task to look him in the eye.

“Not unless you want to.  I can fuck you on your back if you want.”

Nathan looked thoughtful, his gaze traveling down to your hand still gripping the dildo.  “I think I wanna watch,” he decided.  “It’d be a shame not to see you when y’look so hot.”

Grinning at his praise you ran your free hand down thigh, giving his leg a squeeze.  “Good, cuz I wanna see the faces you make, how good I make you feel as I fuck you,” you admitted, enjoying the soft flush that rose to his face.  “Are y’ready?” you asked.

“Actually, if I might make a request?  Can y’take the bra off?  I really wanna see those glorious tits o’ yours,” he exclaimed and you rolled your eyes, unsurprised as you reached behind you to unclasp the garment, easing it down so he could get a good look at you. 

“There, better?”

“Much better.”

“Are y’ready now?” you asked, with amusement.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he muttered.  “Is it weird that I find you incredibly fuckin’ sexy with that thing on?” he added, taking you by surprise.

“I think it’s sexy that you find it sexy,” you purred, aligning yourself, holding the tip of the toy at his entrance.  “Now prepare t’have your world rocked, Nathan Young,” you announced, turning his own words on him.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut  as you pressed into him, slowly repeating what you’d done with your fingers, using shallow thrusts before sliding deeper.  

When you finally sheathed the toy completely, your hips flush with his ass, you paused, Nathan’s mouth falling open as a cross between and moan and a whine fell from his lips and you weren’t exactly sure if it was one of pain or pleasure, but it sent a shiver through you, leaving you very much wanting.

“Babe, you okay?” you asked, checking in, giving him a moment to adjust and he breathed heavily through his nose.

“I think?” he replied, opening one eye to squint up at you.

“You think?” you repeated, slowly pulling out to slide back into him and this time he gasped, throwing his head back.

“Okay, yeah.  Yeah, that-that might feel — fuckkk,” he groaned, the word punctuating your hips coming flush against him again, rocking into him.  “Oh fuck, [y/n],” he exclaimed and you couldn’t help but smirk, carefully watching his face as you began to speed up.

When you grabbed his cock, gliding your fist down his length in time with your thrusts he breathed in sharply, his hips jerking.

“Ahh!” he gasped, his hands balling in the sheets, his face scrunching up in pleasure.  “Ooh yeah.  Yeah, just like that,” he babbled.  “Fuck me sideways with a tire iron, Jay-sus Christ,” he muttered.

“Faster?” you purred, and he shook his head frantically, his mussed curls bouncing eagerly.

“God, you’re so cute like this,” you murmured as you began thrusting faster, swiping your thumb over the tip of his cock, teasing him.

Though the faces he was making weren’t exactly what you’d call sexy, it was cute seeing him begin to unravel, writhing atop the sheets because of your actions and soon you were pounding into him harder, the slap of skin on skin filling the room while Nathan’s wanton cries and needy whines grew louder as well.

“Do you like being fucked like this, babe?” you asked, panting slightly, feeling sweat begin to cover your forehead as you watched him squirm, his toes curling.

“Oh Jay-sus, yes!” he cried, his voice cracking amid the deep groan that followed. 

“Then come for me, Nathan,” you urged, your muscles beginning to cramp while your arousal coated the inside of your thighs, your cunt throbbing.  Each time you ground against the harness you felt yourself growing a little more desperate. 

God how you wanted to see him come undone before you.

Suddenly a strangled cry, louder than the others left your boyfriend’s throat and you could feel his muscles tense as his cock swelled in your grip, but you didn’t relent, over stimulating him as he came in your hand, spilling his seed over his own stomach in spurts, harder than he’d came before, as you continued to ram into him.

“Oh God!  Oh [y/n]!” he whined and you finally slowed, pulling out of him as you released his softening cock.

As Nathan collapsed back you unbuckled the harness from your waist, letting it fall to the floor before crawling atop the bed next to him.  Propping yourself up on your elbow you ran your fingers down his cheek and his eyes fluttered open to gaze up at you, taking a moment to focus on your face.

“Hey,” you murmured, grinning softly at him.

“Hey,” he croaked, turning toward you.

“So?  What did you think?” you asked, curious.  It sure seemed like he enjoyed himself, but you knew how stubborn Nathan could be and you wouldn’t be surprised if he denied it anyway.

“That was… I mean… yeah, I liked it, okay,” he admitted with a huff, his eyes holding a challenge.

“Yeah?” you asked, a giddy grin tugging at your lips.

“Yeah,” he repeated, “but y’can’t tell anyone okay?  I wanna keep my pride, yeah?” he whined and you silenced him with a kiss.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Nathan.”  

Your answer seemed to please him and he sighed contentedly, snuggling closer.

“Does that mean I can peg you again some time?” you ventured, pushing his hair from his forehead and he cracked an eye to peer up at you, chewing his lip.

“Yeah, alright,” he finally relented.  “I still like bein’ the one in charge, but… I wouldn’t mind it if we did this again... sometime,” he confessed haltingly.

“Sounds good to me,” you murmured, pulling him closer, your breath catching as he nuzzled against your neck only to start nipping at you, his hand delving between your thighs.

“Fuck, you’re wet!” he exclaimed abruptly, his head jerking up, eyes wide.  “Is that all just from peggin’ me?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah,” you answered, feeling your face warm, “it was really hot.  You were really hot.”

“Okay, I changed my mind,” he exclaimed with a giggle, “I’ll let yeh have your way with me me more often if this is the result,” he exclaimed, pushing you eagerly to your back.

“Oh, yeah?” you murmured, laughter tinging your voice as he crawled atop you, his lips moving against your neck.

“Oh yeah,” he repeated, smirking as he pulled back to waggle his eyebrows at you.  “Now it’s my turn to return th’favour.”

--------------------

Nathan tag list: @magic-multicolored-miracle​ @midnightseance​ @etherealsxnder​ @iamsexytrash​ @orions-nebula​ @sokkasdarling​ @itsametaphorbriansblog​ @slutforrobbiebro​

#misfits #nathan young #nathan young smut #nathan young x reader #thirsty thursday #my writing #pegging tw

[deidaratheartboi]

A Day In Life With The Akatsuki Pt 2

A/N Before I go into this I just wanna say thank you guys for reblogging and liking my posts I didn't know it would blow up so fast so thank you guys and enjoy!!

-------------------------------------------------

10 Minutes Before ✨chaos✨

Akatsuki Group Chat

Konan: Ok everyone Deidara, Sasori, Hidan, Kakuzu

Deidara: What did I do?

Konan: Nothing yet. Now listen we are going on live tv I expect you to act like it. Don't argue, try to kill each other, booby trap each other's rooms, steal cats or anything other thing that could make us look bad, understood?

Sasori: Yes ma'am

Deidara: Yeah yeah

Hidan: Okkkkiiii

Kakuzu: Hmph

Itachi has went online.

Kisame has went online.

Itachi: So when are we going on?

Pain has went online

Pain: 5 minutes use the time to prep.

Everyone has gone offline.

-------------------------------------------------

Kevin: Now everyone only 3 minutes left all you have to do is act natural and let the cameras do their job. You all will get pulled everyone once in while for what we call "confessionals". Now we are rolling NOW!

-----------------------------------------------------------

Deidara,Sasori And Tobi

Deidara: Now what?

Sasori: I guess we do what we normally do?

Deidara proceeds to showoff in front of the camera.

Sasori: -_-

Tobi: YAY SENPAI

Sasori: Don't encourage him damnit

------------------------------------------------------------

Kisame And Itachi

Itachi: I don't see why boss wasted our time with this pointless show.

Kisame: I guess it's a way to promote our group and get more members. Deidara is enjoying it.

Itachi: Hmph of course he is. I'm going to make a sandwhich

Kisame: Ok

The camera follows Itachi

Itachi: Stop following me with that thing

Continues to follow him

Itachi proceeds to roundhouse kick the camera

Kisame: Damn-

------------------------------------------------------------

Hidan And Kakuzu

Hidan: Sooooo what are we gonna do???

Kakuzu: You are going to leave me alone

Hidan: Hmmmm nah I don't want to

Kakuzu: Leave

Hidan : No

Kakuzu goes to his room and locks the door

Hidan: Awww come on Kakuzu

--------------------------------------------------------------

Pain, Konan And Zetsu

Pain: I wonder how the boys are holding up

Zetsu: I heard a crash in Itachi's room so I went to check it out. He either punched it or kicked it.

Konan: Doesn't seem like something he would do but, he was against this whole thing to begin with

Pain: Guess he needs his space

----------------------------------------------------------

Sasori Confessional

Sasori: Man Deidara is annoying

Interviewer Person: Oh really? Well I think he is too. What do you think about Tobi?

Sasori: Don't even get me started he encourages his bad behavior and as I try to fix it he does it again. Half the time he's hanging with Deidara and not me. I'M HIS PARTNER NOT HIM!

Interviewer Person: So you don't think they should be together?

Sasori: For the sake of my sanity and the group no.

Interviewer Person: Are you sure your not just jealous?

Sasori: This conversation is over.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Deidara Confessional

Deidara: Wow this show is nuts thanks for having me.

Interviewer Person: Heh no proble. Say what do you think about Sasori?

Deidara: Oh danna? Yeah he's cool I kinda admire him but, don't tell him that. He's always been there for me ya know? Kinda like a brother.

Interviewer Person: Now what about Tobi?

Deidara: He's an annoying little shit. Don't get me wrong I love people admiring my glory but, he takes it too far. Taking pictures of me in the shower really? But, I guess he means well

------------------------------------------------------------

Tobi Confessional

Interviewer Person: So what do you think about Sasori and Deidara?

Tobi: TOBI LOVES THEM BOTH

Interviewer Person: Are you sure? Not even an ounce of dislike for one of them?

Tobi: (In A Deep Voice) Your television tricks don't work on me.

Interviewer Person: 0-0

--------------------------------------------------------------

Hidan: Why the hell am I here?

Interviewer Person: Confessionals

Hidan: I have a lot to confess then. Once I ate a battery, I stole Kakuzu's money more then once by the way, I ate one of Dei's clay thingies, I also got a tattoo on my bu-

Interviewer Person: Um these confessionals are more show related.

Hidan: Oh well then is this the part where you make me say mean stuff about the people around me, edit only the bad parts show it to the others and start a whole ass war?

Interviewer Person: Uhhhhhhhh

-----------------------------------------------------------

Kakuzu Confessional

Kakuzu: Why am I here?

Interviewer Person: Confessionals

Kakuzu: But, I have nothing to confess

Interviewer Person: Well you have to

Kakuzu: Why?

Interviewer Person: Ratings

Kakuzu: Why would I confess to people I don't even know?

Interviewer Person: It's called television

Kakuzu: It's called mind your own damn business.

----------------------------------------------------------

Konan ConfessionaL

Konan: Hello

Interviewer Person: Hi how do you think the show is going so far?

Konan: It's wonderful

Interviewer Person: Anything you'd like to say to the camera?

Konan: I don't see the point of talking to inanimate objects

Interviewer Person: But, this camera allows other people to see and hear you.

Konan: Oh in that case if your in the Sound village watching this might wanna watch where you step sometime next week :)

Interviewer Person: I-

-----------------------------------------------------------

Pain Confessional

Pain: I am Pain

Interviewer Person: Yeah I know

Pain: And?

Interviewer Person: And what?

Pain: You said you know

Interviewer Person: Yea because I do

Pain: But, do you really know pain?

Interviewer Person: Yes I know you

Pain: No I mean pain

Interviewer Person: Huh? Wait why are you coming close to me? Hey put the chair down!!!

Pain: You shall know paaaaiiiinn.

Camera fee cuts

-------------------------------------------------------------

Zetsu ConfessionaL

Interviewer Person: So how's the show going?

Zetsu: Fine so far other then the broken camers sorry about that.

Interviewer Person: Yeah it's fine

Zetsu: And sorry about Pain

Interviewer Person: Why did I chose this job?

-------------------------------------------------------------

Kisame Confessional

Interviewer Person: So how do you like the show?

Kisame: It's fine as long as no one records me in the shower.

Interviewer Person: Yeah no one wants to see that

Kisame: So are you saying I'm ugly?

Interviewer Person: No it's just tha-

Kisame: You see me as a monster

Interviewer Person: No not a-

Kisame: No it's fine the only person who saw me as a person was Itachi I was foolish to think other would come to accept me like Itachi did.

Interviewer Person: But, I never said.

Kisame: It all started when I was a mere child-

Interviewer Person: We're done here

-------------------------------------------------------------

Itachi Confessional

Interviewer Person: Why did you kick the camera?

Itachi: I don't like being followed

Interviewer Person: Kisame follows you

Itachi: I know him

Interviewer Person: But, if you don't like being followed wouldn't it apply to everyone?

Itachi: In your mind yes

Interviewer Person: Hm I see. So how do you like the show?

Itachi: How do you think? Strangers coming into your house following your every move. Filming you. Making you look like a fool in front of millions of people. You can answer that yourself.

Interviewer Person: I guess you ha-

Itachi: I Know I do

Interviewer Person: It's rude to interrupt people

Itachi: I'm sorry did you say something? I don't speak bullshit

Interviewer Person: Damn rude.

-----------------------------------------------------------

It won't let me add the konan taaaaaaggggg so I had to put akatsuki in front of it. Anywho hope you guys enjoyed

#akatsuki texts #reality show #konan #pain #zetsu #tobi #deidara #sasori #kisame #itachi #akatsuki konan

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 107 prt 1

107

“Careful! You’ve only just got out of hospital this morning”

Lance rolled his eyes at Keith. He totally hadn’t noticed that at all. He totally hadn’t enjoyed standing in the sun, and feeling the cold wind across his. After a week of tests and monitoring, Lance was sooooo not in a rush to go back to that room again

“I’m fine”

“Here, Let’s get you to the sofa. You should be resting”

Keith looped his arm around his waist as if he thought Lance as some kind of wounded soldier and not 5 weeks pregnant. He was doing so much better for having rested and seen his friends.

They went the half truth. A lie that weighed heavily. Pidge and Hunk had come up with Rieva to see him. Hunk in tears that his best bud had had an accident, Pidge having some not so nice words for not letting them come see him sooner. The first three days all he’d pretty much done was sleep. When Mami came, Keith gave up his position beside him in bed, Lance falling asleep against his mother. When he’d woken again, his Mami was talking to Keith about how he’d been as a child. It was embarrassing. His Mami had come to see him three times, thanks to Coran and Shiro picking her up and dropping her off. Krolia had come by to check on him when he’d sent Keith off to find a decent cup of coffee before VOLTRON wound up burnt to the ground. His friends had come twice. Matt was in tears as he apologised, his, and Rieva’s, scents making Lance’s stomach roll, yet he got to thank both of them which made up for the discomfort. Lance knew he couldn’t put off telling his mother, but Coran wanted to do another ultrasound the following week. Provided things were still okayish, he planned to tell her then. Making her worry needlessly over something they couldn’t control... he didn’t want that, but it was hard not to blurt everything out because she was... she was his guiding light.

Forced to sit on the sofa, Lance patted Kosmo as he climbed into his lap. Keith pulling him off him

“Babe, you’ve got to be careful. You can’t let him climb on you like that”

“Coran wouldn’t have let me out if it wasn’t alright. I feel better. I’m doing better”

They were keeping the baby, but not telling anyone for the time being. He was too tired to tell his Mami, and honestly was avoiding the conversation for now until it’d sunk in

“You still need to take it easy”

“I am. I don’t know how much easier I can take things”

Keith argued that he should take time off work. Lance disagreed. Keith was cranky. Lance stressed. Shiro stepping in to gently pursued Keith that as long as Lance was at VOLTRON he was getting the best care he could. Keith had work throughout the day, suiting Lance fine as it meant cuddles at the end of it. His body was telling him to rest, and he was listening

“Maybe the bed would be better?”

Reaching up, Lance pulled Keith down by his shirt to awkwardly kneel at his level. He didn’t want Keith to leave, still, this wasn’t about him. Keith needed to head to work, the scent of him in the apartment was strong enough to make him feel safe. Pursing his lips, his boyfriend kissed him gently like he’d wanted him to do. Smiling from the kiss, Lance hoped it’d relieved some of Keith’s worries

“Babe, I’m fine. I’ve got the TV and my soap operas to catch up on”

“I should be here”

Lance rolled his eyes again, before kissing Keith

“I’m not going to die from loneliness just because you’ve got to go to work. I’ve got my phone thanks to Rieva, go enjoy being bossed around. I’m just gonna look at some stuff online and watch TV”

“You need to cancel my birthday weekend too”

Lance didn’t want to fight, but that wasn’t happening

“We’re still going”

“You can’t be traipsing across the country side”

“First off, who says “traipsing”. Secondly, I am living for that get away. Coran said if everything stays good, we’ll be able to go. Even if I can’t go, I still want everyone else to have fun”

“But the baby...”

“Isn’t going anywhere if I can help it. I’ll call if anything happens, which it won’t. You’re fussing too much”

“You’re not fussing enough!”

Lance let out a chuckle

“If you’re this bad, I can’t imagine what you’re gonna be like when I pop this baby out. I’m fine, I’ll be fine. You’re only at work until 5, then you’re back home”

“That’s ages”

“Babe, it’s 6 hours”

“Seeeee ages!”

Not for a vampire it wasn’t. But to be without Keith it was. He wasn’t going to be selfish. If it got too much, he’d take himself to bed and sleep until his boyfriend returned

“Time will pass sooner than you think with all your secret Blade work”

“I’d rather be here”

“I know. Look, I won’t even do housework. I’ll be good. Here, bathroom, kitchen or bed. That’s it”

“You’re not supposed to be moving around”

“I’m not going to be running laps of the apartment. Not with this little one to think of. Now give me another kiss”

Keith tried to draw out leaving as long as possible. Lance finding it cute. When his boyfriend finally left, he pulled his phone out as Kosmo jumped up on the sofa for pats. Keith wanted them to work this out together which meant he needed to understand more about what being pregnant entailed so he knew if something was wrong. Having a human baby inside of him, Coran wanted him to graze throughout the day in an attempt to get down as many calories as he could for the little one. Keith had to pick up a few things from the chemist on the way home from work, Lance not reminding him as he seemed sad enough over leaving. His boyfriend was basically an overgrown puppy.

After an hour of reading too much, he dropped his phone at the sound of someone outside the apartment. Kosmo growling, before leaping off the sofa and rushing to the door. Lance felt the need to bolt to safety. To lock himself in Keith’s room. He felt foolish when Shiro unlocked the door. Of course Shiro would be back. He was stuck on night shifts and surveillance, though Lance wasn’t sure if that was related to Honerva or trying to keep the peace. Letting himself in, Shiro went about locking the door again and setting the alarm, before scooping Kosmo up for pats. The hunter jumping as he noticed Lance, Lance flinching momentarily

“Sorry, Lance. I completely forgot you’d be home today. Nice to see you out of that place”

Lance forced himself to relax. Shiro didn’t sound mad. Tired, but not mad. He’d stressed repeatedly that was okay for Lance to stay, but Lance still felt guilty as he couldn’t really contribute anything to the household lest Keith worry

“Hey, Shiro. Uh, how was work?”

“Long. I’m ready for bed. How’s freedom?”

“Better than four white walls... Keith’s made me promise not to do anything”

Shiro chuckled, Kosmo licking at his face as Shiro tried to be out of reach and failed

“I can imagine. Don’t worry about him. He’ll settle down”

“Dude, we both know that’s not true. He doesn’t even want me getting up to use the bathroom”

Keith had to help him use the bathroom more than once thanks to his lack of energy and Lance had felt an all time low over his useless

Shiro chuckled again

“He’s just excited. I’ve already been told I’m not allowed to make your kid lame like me”

A smile formed on the edges of Lance’s lips

“You’re gonna be like the favourite uncle an he’s already jealous. This kid is going to be so confused. A werewolf for uncle. A slightly cursed uncle. A grandmother pushing 90. A hunter for an uncle... I could go on...”

Shiro dropped Kosmo down on the sofa, his fur son giving him a cocky look over his shoulder, before jumping off to trot after Shiro into the kitchen. His love for Lance lost to the slightest chance of a treat from his uncle

“On the plus side I don’t think anyone outside of a royal family has had this much protection. I’m gonna make some coffee, you want one?”

“Nah, I’m good... if you want to watch TV I can move”

“It’s fine. I usually just have it on for background noise until I fall asleep. Besides, I don’t think we’ve been alone like this for a while”

That was true. Keith was like a guard dog when Lance was in VOLTRON’s infirmary

“Not since Keith decided he bitumen needed his skin more than him”

Keith had the scars from the accident. The lighter ones would fade one day, yet Lance would never forget to treasure the darker ones as proof Keith was still alive. His boyfriend a little self conscious, but Lance didn’t mind. Shiro hummed, setting about getting his mug out and his coffee made

“Yeah, that sounds about right. How are you feeling, mother, or is father, to be?”

He wasn’t the first man to be pregnant, though his plumbing was a little unusual

“Father to be. And I know it’s been a week, but it’s still pretty surreal”

“I can’t imagine. I already talked to Keith, and he’s still pretty shocked”

“I don’t blame him. This wasn’t exactly planned”

“Still, it gives you guys hope for the future. I hope we can wrap this case up soon”

That’s be nice. Nice to know Lotor had left and life was returning to normal

“So do I... I know I’m not supposed to be prying, but if you need someone to bounce ideas off, I’m here. Literally. Keith seems pretty keen on me avoiding going home. He really has an issue at the thought of me and stairs”

“I know you couldn’t help it, but you could have been less dramatic about announcing you’re pregnant”

Lance felt himself laugh before he realised his mood had actually picked up. Shiro wasn’t Keith, but having someone in the apartment washed away the loneliness he didn’t know he felt. He’d been so spoilt for attention lately

“Trust me, I would have picked a different time too. Maybe, like, in a few years.... like, when Honerva was dealt with and Keith was in a better place?”

“He’s already in a better place. He worked his arse off for the Blades, and still felt like nothing. Now matter what Adam and I did or said. I’d been with Blades so long that I guess I was used to their...”

Shiro paused as he tried to think of how to word it

“Particular brand of weirdness?”

Shiro snorted, Lance kind of happy he could talk to Shiro like this without pretence or being careful with his words

“Yeah. Pretty much. He’s really come out of his shell”

“He’s still a little anger loaf at heart. He always had it in him”

“He has. Lately he’s come to see that, and as his brother, I’m relieved”

Shiro and Keith were tight. This little one had him wishing he had someone like Shiro

“You’re a good brother to him. I can’t help but be jealous”

“You know what they say, family is what you make it. Blood doesn’t matter when it comes to being there for those you care about”

Lance’s hand drifted to his belly. He didn’t really know why, but rubbing his belly seemed to have some psychosomatic effect on making him feel better

“You okay there?”

Catching Shiro watching, Lance ducked his head

“Yeah. This little one definitely wasn’t planned, I want you to know, I’d never deny Keith access to them, or you. Keith and I are still in the honeymoon phase, despite all that’s happened. Sometimes I can’t help but caught up in all the “what ifs””

“I could say I know what you mean, but I only have a vague idea. Keith was already all grown up when I found him. Things really weren’t great at first”

“How not great are we talking?”

“He stole my car. He eventually came back, but he was so full of anger and confusion. It took a long time to build that trust up”

That actually sounded definitely like something Keith would do. He lashed out something fierce when he was trying to protect himself from developing feelings

“I can’t even imagine. This one has so much love around them already. Shiro, if anything happens, you’ll be there, right?”

“Nothing’s gone to happen. I know what you’re asking, and you don’t need to ask”

“I kind of do. I haven’t told Keith but my anxiety has been pretty whack. Sleeping so much helped keep the thoughts away”

“I’m sure he already knows. He sent me a long list of things I’m not allowed to do or say, and I’m supposed to make sure you eat”

Lance groaned. Food was not his friend. It went down and it came up. At least here he’d have some form of privacy for that bit

“He’s obsessed with that. I don’t think he thought about it when he sentenced me to sitting on the sofa”

“He knows you like Italian, had me pick up some last night. Then he sent me on a chase to find garlic knots too. I know I’ve known you six months now, but I don’t think I can cope with a vampire who eats garlic”

“Which is weirder, that I walk about in the sun, or, that I eat garlic?”

“Definitely the sun. I wasn’t sure you were a vampire to begin with. It’s not like they teach us that vampires are out and about in the sun”

“Coran says it’s because I turned so young. Then again, we don’t really go up in flames until after the third degree burns”

“Did he say anything about the baby?”

“They should be human from what I understand. Lotor already seems to know I’m pregnant. Keith says I’m being paranoid”

The more he thought about the more he was certain Lotor knew, and this body knew too. That’d by why he’d subconsciously tried to protect his belly

“Maybe we can throw Lotor out in the sun?”

Lance laughed again. How he wished

“I don’t think Allura would be too happy. She’s already mad he’s being so useless”

Bringing his cup of coffee over, Lance tried not to smell it. He didn’t know what it was about the scent... it just made him feel gross. Sitting down, Shiro put his feet up on the coffee table, Kosmo half sat on for not moving. It was now a battle of wills

“They used to date, from the sound of it?”

“Yeah. Long before I was born. They were closer thanks to Honerva and the whole fae thing. Then he kicked her heart to the curb by leaving. He didn’t cheat on her. I thought that was it, but it was him making all these plans to leave then leaving without telling her. She’s not so quick to forgive. She’s really making Lotor work for her time”

“Good on her. I did worry she’d let her past feelings sweep her away”

“They did... kind of. She’s kind of a bit like Keith. Really good at not forgiving and forgetting. Not that that’s a bad thing. The pain fucking sucks”

“You know what else sucks? Kosmo. Move it buster, off!”

Kosmo crawled into Lance’s lap, ignoring Shiro telling him to get off. The doggo shooting Shiro a wounded glance as he made himself comfortable on Lance

“Kosmo, off!”

Huffing sadly, Kosmo stood right on Lance’s junk before using him to jump. Lance groaning as he drew his knees up

“Paw to the junk?”

Shiro asked sympathetically, Lance nodding

“He’s best boy, but those paws are no joke”

“He’s good for finding the wrong places to stand. Managed to do it to me and Curtis once...”

“Ugh. I feel your pain. Keith’s been trying to keep him off me. He thinks Kosmo’s going to hurt the baby”

“Kosmo is boisterous”

“Kosmo is best boy, living his best life. Keith brought him to visit and he ended up getting into the cupboards. I think he had the time of his doggy life messing up the room”

“I bet that went well with Keith”

“I slept. Angry Keith can be scary”

“That he can. At least he wasn’t throwing knives”

“This is true. Do you want the remote?”

“Nah. It’s fine. Curtis had been trying to get me into soap operas”

“That’d be my fault. I thought he’d be here”

He missed Curtis. Maybe in some way Curtis was kind of like the cousin he’d lied and said he was. His bluntness wasn’t always comforting, but at least he didn’t hide things

“Matt and him have been hanging out with Sam a lot lately. Whatever the deal with his curse is, it gave Sam some pretty interesting readings”

“Appliances don’t seem Curtis friendly”

“Nope. Keith’s banned him from going near the coffee machine”

“I’m not surprised. These days I’m more surprised when he finds a way to function before coffee”

“You should see him after a mission. He has to have his coffee or he’s a moody bastard”

Lance laughed, he knew that too well

“Yeah. He tells me about it in chat, or calls if it’s around 6 because he knows I usually get up then”

“You’ve got him trained”

A blush appeared in Lance’s cheeks. He could always count on Keith to message him. Now he was thinking about him solely, he really missed him, a small whine escaping before he could stop himself

“What was that?”

“Apparently I do that. I’m putting it down to this whole breeder thing... it kind of happens”

“Because you’re missing Keith?”

“Pretty much”

“I’m not Keith, but if you need a hug...”

Lance very shyly leaned against Shiro who sling his arm over his shoulders

“I’m sorry. He’s spoilt me so much that I feel a little lost when he’s not here”

“You don’t have to explain, kiddo. You’re going through a lot right now”

“I’m freaking the fuck out internally”

“I would be too. But you’ll get through this”

“Yeah... yeah, I know. I want to tell Mami, but I decided to wait until the ultrasound next week”

“You miss her, don’t you?”

“Especially right now. She... she protected me so much growing up. My family say I leach off her... but when I was making enough money, the first thing I did was get us a better house and I never wanted her to go into a home”

“If you want to bring her here, I understand”

“Thanks, but this is your home. It’s like I tried to explain to Keith. You and he need a place you know is safe. Mami doesn’t mean to talk but sometimes it comes out. I don’t want to put you guys in danger”

Shiro ruffled his hair

“It makes helping you hard. I’ve always respected that you respect the people around you. I never should have been so harsh on you when I came back”

“You had a lot going on. You didn’t know how Keith was going to be and you left your whole life behind to come here. You lost a lot thanks fo vampires...”

Still, it felt nice to have Shiro apologise properly. He didn’t blame Shiro at all for worrying over Keith

“Things got really rough after Adam. Keith blamed himself for so long. I should have talked him sooner than I did, but I didn’t... I wasn’t there yet”

“Sometimes it’s like that. Adam was important to you. Plus, your brother doesn’t always phrase things right. It took you to point it out for us to realise he didn’t have a heart condition but a crush”

“Don’t remind me. I swear every grey I have is because of him”

“If you think that’s bad, try looking like a teenager. I’m sick of it”

“Some vampires do seem to age”

“Yeah, I’m still a baby vampire really. I’ve got to be pushing like a century. Then again, look at Lotor. He’s old as fuck and prances around like a college jock-strap wanker”

Shiro chuckled

“I don’t think anyone has ever called him that before”

“If you can’t tell, I have pretty strong opinions on vampires”

“Oh, I can tell. Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink?”

“I’m alright. If I fall asleep, just leave me here. I’ve got most of my strength back, but I still feel really drained”

“Emotional stress will do that. Besides, not to brag or anything, but I’m pretty sure I could lift you up”

“Dude, I’ve totally put muscle on”

“Sure you have”

Lance pouted. His ego annoyed. He’d never been in better shape, other than being fatigued and pregnant. He’d never worked out as much as he had over the last few months, and though undead. He was sure he fitter than ever

“I totally have. And I’ve trained with Matt, Curtis, Keith, and Lotor. I’m deceptively heavy”

“And still Keith manages to carry you around”

Keith made it look easy and it wasn’t fair. His boyfriend wasn’t a muscle meat head, instead he was like deceptively strong

“Is this a sibling rival thing? Who can pick up and carry the vampire around?”

“Maybe?”

Lance groaned at him. He didn’t want to be in the middle of that particular fight

“Please don’t pick me up and carry me around. Let me pretend I’m tough and manly”

“You’re a tuff and manly twig”

Ouch... His gremlin would have laughed herself stupid if she’d heard

“Now you sound like Pidge”

“She’s a smart one. Nah, you’re fine the way you are. I won’t move you if you don’t want to be, but if you need help, let me know”

“Thanks, Shiro. Honestly I’m zonked, but I don’t know if I’m gonna freak out being moved. I don’t want to risk it”

“Alright. Now, what the hell is going on in this show?”

*

Keith was flustered as he left work. Krolia had pulled him aside to ask if he was okay, Keith knew she was trying to ask if he’d read her letter yet. He hadn’t, then he’d been snappy towards her without meaning to. His mother kind of seemed like a different person these days. More human and more approachable... and that had him thinking maybe he’d been unfair to her for a while now. It took Lance getting pregnant to actually fucking get it. He’d never leave Lance like she had, but if he had to live in constant fear of bringing home werewolves or vampires on his tail, he could see how not going home was an option he might be forced to entertain. His dad hadn’t been a loner. Stray feelings of his dad having friends lingered then disappeared when he tried to focus. Maybe if his dad had had friends like his and Lance’s... No. Going down that road only brought up the pain of the past. He’d awkwardly apologised to her in his own way before leaving, calling Shiro as he did.

When Shiro didn’t answer, Keith ran all the way to the apartment. He hadn’t tried Lance’s phone. His lover needed his rest, as tempting and as hard as it was not to message him. Letting himself into the apartment, Keith melted at the sight in front of him. Shiro and Lance were both asleep on the sofa, Kosmo cuddled into Lance’s side, wagging his tail as his tongue lolled out. Yeah. He was kind of ready to yell, and kind of jealous, but Lance had needed comfort from the look of it, and Shiro had stepped up to be there for him. Leaving the alarm too long, Kosmo started howling as the alarm went off. Lance and Shiro both jumping as they were rudely awakened. Hurriedly Keith turned the alarm off, the apartment falling silent after a way too long moment. Damn it. He should have got a photo of Lance and Shiro sleeping. His brother, his dog, and his boyfriend. His little family safe and well... and now wide awake.

Closing the door, Keith dropped his backpack next to it. Lance was rubbing at his ears, Shiro trying to bring Kosmo under control. His poor boy hated the alarm

“Sorry. I didn’t punch the code in in time”

#once bitten twice stupid #oncebittentwicestupid #ashratherose