Ugh do you ever think about how season 3 tried to make Jamie’s greatness on the pitch a product of spite and rage when it’s canon, from Jamie’s own lips, that his love of footie comes from his mom and how much she loves him?! Like, they tried to make my boy an obsessive fighter when in reality he’s an obsessive lover. All of Jamie’s motivations come from loving and wanting to be loved. And I love that he’s soft, and when he’s allowed to be, when his softness leads to acceptance, he just gets softer? With no shame? I just….ugh
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DC X DP PROMT #12
HELLO MY MINIONS! New promt.
Jason was confused, tired, and so done.
It all started like this. Jason, was of course dealing with the gangs on patrol, handling a drug trafficking ring, and keeping the alley in order, as usual.
However, throughout all that, he felt eyes watching him, but everytime he looked back, he saw nothing.
So, jason was probably hallucinating, or Bruce's paranoia about everything was affecting him (god damn you bruce).
Jason sighed, trudging back to his safe house. Maybe if he got some sleep the odd feeling of constantly being watched would go away.
He head inside, throwing off his helmet and boots, tossing his belt onto the counter. Just as he was about to open the fridge for a 'light' snack (Alfred's lasagna), he spotted a strange, eerie green light floating midair behind him.
Jason dropped the lasagna.
"What the fuck."
"Oh- wait you can see me!?! Sup dude!"
-------------------------------------------------------
... Jason now has a new roommate. And a weird green light in the shape of a boy clinging to him.
...
Yeah. He needs some sleep.
Feel free to use or add on!
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snow w a breeding kink!!!
ayy you get it!! sorry it took me long to respond im not used to checking my inbox. listened to freak by lana del rey while writing this!
coriolanus is rutting into you like its his will to live, his thrusts are hard and calculated, and you know you’ve never felt anything like it.
his senses are amplified, he can smell your juices as they seep out of you. he can hear your whines and incoherent mumbles.
you can’t form a sentence, your brain mush as he fucks you stupid on his cock.
he smirks lazily, his own head clouded by the hazy feeling of your walls clenching tightly around him.
he’s rough but he makes sure your head is propped up above a pillow and your hands have something to grip onto - his biceps -.
he likes the way it stings, like standing to close to a fire, or turning the tap on too hot before washing your hands.
there will for sure be marks next morning but he doesn’t mind.
at this point he doesn’t mind anything you do, as long as you’re tits keep bouncing with every thrust of his hips.
he reaches out slowly. grasping at the soft plushy skin that dangles in front of him like he’s in some sort of hypnosis.
the feeling of his rough and big hands against your soft glowy skin sparks something in him.
he imagines the way they’ll fill up a tank top perfectly, the way they sit perfectly while you cook or clean or do any normal house activities.
then he imagines what it would be like with a baby around.
how your after-birth body would leave your tits swelled and nipples a dark red.
how you would look with a baby in arms. hands cradled around its head.
his baby.
his very own creation.
something as perfect as you.
he can’t help it, the idea of your belly full of his own. his own dna, his own blood.
it has him humping against you faster than ever.
he’s desperate, so much so that he can’t hold in the little whimpers and whines that fall out of from his parted lips.
the sound of skin against skin, the smell of your absolutely abused cunt, the feeling of your ankles wrapped around his hips, the taste of blood on this tongue as he bites down.
it all has him cumming into you, hot and thick.
and the feeling of him shooting inside of you has you squirting all over him, liquid manages its way out of you and he looks down.
curses fall from his lips as he fucks into you again, not letting any of his cum spill out of you.
“you’re gonna take it.” he grunts out as he pushes against your cervix, wiping the tears that pool in your eyes.
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