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coochiequeens · 1 year

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In news that will shock no one…

William Thomas, known to the world as Lia Thomas, made headline news when he was permitted to swim on University of Pennsylvania's women's team, break records, and win competitions. After some investigation of his social media accounts, it's highly suspected that he suffers from an abnormal sexual desire called autogynephilia.

William Thomas was ranked 462nd on the men's swim team before he decided to identify as a woman and call himself Lia Thomas. Soon enough, he was the fastest swimmer on the women's swim team at University of Pennsylvania and was even allowed to compete at women's meets, where he broke records and stole medals from hard-working female athletes. At the Ivy League championships, Thomas won the 500 free final by over 7 seconds. At University of Akron's Zippy International, he beat his teammate by more than 12 seconds in the 500 race. Later, in the 1650 freestyle, he beat a female opponent by 38 seconds.

The more medals he won, the more attention he gained from the media and the more he was praised by trans activists everywhere. Thomas was even nominated for the 2022 NCAA Woman of the Year Award (he was denied the award in the end). But the more that people dive deep into Thomas' social media use, the more it becomes clear to them that he suffers from an abnormal sexual desire called autogynephilia.

What Is Autogynephilia?

The simplest way to explain autogynephilia is when a man gets sexually aroused when he himself embodies a woman's characteristics, appearance, outfits, etc. YouTuber Red Moon RADio: Redfem Radio interviewed Masha Jagasdottir, an expert in childhood development and social services. Masha helped explain what an autogynephilic male is.

"First of all, it's a paraphilia. So that category of mental illness, mental distress—it's basically like a mapping error of internally experienced desire," she says. "To cut all the nuance away, it's basically a male-bodied individual who's mapped his entire sexual desire onto himself as a female. And the draw in that comes from the fact that it's the only woman that he'll ever be able to control completely, is his own body. So he wants the embodied feeling of suppressing and humiliating a woman."

"It's really important for them to go out in public, in female spaces, because part of the thrill is watching other women have to swallow their disgust. It's a paraphilia that is absolutely in the same category as zoophilia and pedophilia," Masha continues. "These are actually deeply distressing antisocial paraphilias. It's dangerous for the self and dangerous for society."

This fetish has resulted in many men coming forward as trans, presenting themselves as women to the world, and insisting that they be accepted as normal members of society. It's impossible to know just how many men who call themselves trans women are actually struggling with autogynephilia. It's safe to say that many of these men are not actually trans but rather autogynephilic, and they find sick sexual pleasure in pretending to be women. Walt Heyer, a man who detransitioned after living as a woman for several years, suspects that the umbrella term "transgender" has inadvertently included many individuals who wrestle with autogynephilia, which he describes as "a condition where a man will dress up, look at himself in the mirror as a female, and the female he sees in the mirror becomes the object of his sexual affection."

Lia Thomas Is Suspected to Have Autogynephilia

Nicole Wawro, also known as @feministrecovery_ on Instagram, shared a wide range of information from Thomas' private Instagram account @liathimas, revealing that he has some very disturbing interests that all point to his autogynephilia (also referred to as AGP). She posted a 4-minute reel on Instagram sharing that Thomas announced on his private Instagram that he opted in for a surgery to castrate himself. Naturally, he waited until after the swim season at UPenn and after the FINA ruling said he wasn't able to compete on the women's team to get this procedure done. Thomas made the announcement using 2 cherry emojis next to a pair of scissors, clearly joking about (and even celebrating) the fact that he chopped his testicles off. However, while Nicole was working on the veracity of this story, she also found a lot of other information about Thomas that was greatly disturbing.

"Lia is smart. All the photos he posts of himself are squeaky clean," Nicole says. "However, the photos he likes, the photos he is tagged in by friends, and the accounts he associates with tell a very different story about a very different Lia."

His online activity strongly suggests that he gets sexually aroused by dressing up as a woman, which is a very common characteristic of autogynephilia. Nicole points out that he often likes photos about sexual fetishes of cross dressing, people getting together for trans orgies, and women getting beat up by men who identify as trans females. For example, Fallon Fox, the male MMA fighter who called himself a trans woman and broke open a female fighter's skull in the ring, bragged about it on Instagram, "Me on crushing women skulls." Thomas liked the post, along with another Fallon Fox post where he is doubling down on the fact that he beat another women to a pulp.

Thomas also is seen liking posts about AGP, including a cartoon of an "AGP trans" person who is dressed up as a girl in a pink dress, and has an erection as he looks at himself in the mirror. This furthers the suspicion that he gets some kind of sexual arousal from cross-dressing. Thomas has also liked many other photos of men cross-dressing as women, as well as posts about "sexploration."

Nicole even found that Thomas liked posts of his friends practicing paganism and Satanism, as well as pictures of crass pornographic cartoons. Apparently, Thomas has even shared photos of his own sex dungeon that he built with his boyfriend, complete with a wall of BDSM toys and kinks.

"If this was just about his personal life and his preference as a gay man and his fetishes, we would have just left it there," Nicole says. "But it's not. Lia represents what it means to be all-American. He has lobbied to be in the women's locker room on the basis that he feels like a woman, not because he has any sexual arousal. He presents himself as a squeaky clean athlete with no ulterior motive. But parents deserve to know there is a darkness about allowing any man into the locker room that claims that they just feel like they should be there."

Perhaps even more disturbing is the fact that less than 4 years ago, Thomas seemed to be living a normal life as a young man. He proclaimed he was in love with his girlfriend and he dressed and acted like a male.

And now just a few years later, he shows a completely different story on Instagram, even if it's kept fairly private. But it's important to understand that autogynephilia is an abnormal sexual desire that manifests into a darkness that has infiltrated women's spaces, all under the guise of trans acceptance and compassion.

#William Thomas #AGP #university of pennsylvania #men in women’s sports #TIMs and kink

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sophiethewitch1 · 2 months

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Sparring sessions with Damian would be the worst. He's constantly mocking you, trying to make you lose your edge. And he's quick too, dancing around any punches or kicks you throw. Even when it's obvious you won't win the spar, he still doesn't take you down. He'll let you keep going. Keep struggling till you're a sweaty and exhausted mess.

That's when he'll pounce. Pins you down to the sparring mats, his body straddling yours. You try to buck him off. He just thrusts his hips back down into yours. The bulge in his sweats pressing against you has the fight in you disappearing like smoke. You look up at him, confused, and he merely smirks back down at you.

"Not going to tap out?"

You do, hand tapping the training mat, even as you stare into his emerald green eyes. You don't think you could look away even if you tried.

"Hm, but I think I've earned my reward, don't you?"

It doesn't really matter what your answer is, does it? He likes it when you struggle, after all.

#yandere batfam #damian wayne x reader #first thing in the morning but i read yuns new post an #it was inspiring #tw nsft #tw dubcon #tw noncon #damian has a predator/prey kink and i will not be silenced #so does tim. and jay. and dick too if you piss him off #okay so I have a predator/prey kink but that means nothing alright

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shipsdoishipidk · 5 months

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Jason: Dick isn’t really Daddy material when it comes to the bedroom but holy Lazarus he’s a really fucking good mommy. Mommy kinks with him are a one way trip to a blackout orgasm.

Tim, forever scarred and knowing he’ll never look at Dick the same way again: I never wanted to know.

#dick definitely plays the mommy in the bedroom #stan Mommy Dick Grayson and Daddy Jason Todd #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #jaydick #does this count as timdick??? maybe Jason awakened an unknown kink in him #incorrect batfamily quotes

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jjkyaoi · 7 months

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i love hot jon but specifically the part where he’s not appealing to anyone and yet he’s appealing to. everyone . like season one is the most put together he looks and even that’s a stretch because she’s prematurely graying and wears little grandma glasses and big sweaters that make him look stick skinny (he is). and then season two hits him like a bullet train and he s so stressed out of his mind that he doesn’t even comb his hair . veins popping in his eyes wearing the same cardigan that he wore three days ago because he’s been sleeping in his office carrying a tape recorder everywhere and he has this odd little creature magnetism about her. her brown eyes turn green in season three and nobody knows what to say to him about that. he grows out his hair to mad scientist unbrushed length most of her shirts have been stained three times over LIKE THIS IS NOT AN APPEALING LOOK. but by god is he wanted by the masses

#melanie: i thought jonathan sims was a gorgeous butch woman but turns out he’s that stupid TWINK from the magnus institute !!#martin was fighting for his life trying to defend his weird professor kink when it came to jon in the earlier seasons #s2 tim: well. turns out he wasn’t as put together as u thought he was. he’s actually pretty fucking insane. like the craziest person #s2 martin: he has this aura about him #s2 tim: the aura of an unhealthy work environment ?? PLEASE do not start this shit again .#tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #jmart #jonathan sims #the archivist #jontim #this is mostly me just trying to avoid tmagp spoilers LAWL

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comic-art-showcase · 4 months

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Batman and Robin by Eduardo Pansica

#eduardo pansica #batman #robin #tim drake #batman and robin #the dynamic duo #dc #batc*st shippers DO NOT INTERACT #kink/fetish blogs DO NOT INTERACT #bats tw #tw bats #bats cw #cw bats #chiroptophobia tw #tw chiroptophobia #chiroptophobia cw #cw chiroptophobia #chiroptophobia

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sister-lucifer · 2 months

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Talk About a Mind Fuck

Tim Wright/Masky x Ticci Toby

A COLLAB WITH @cryptidcircuswrites ! PLEASE CHECK OUT HIS VERSION HERE!

Genre: Gore smut

Summary: A mission goes awry and Toby is shot straight through the skull. Tim decides to take the new hole for a spin, and Toby is more than happy to let him have it.

Content/warnings: OHHH MY GOOOOD DONT FUCKING READ THIS IF YOU HAVE A WEAK STOMACH, Toby literally gets his brain fucked, bullet hole wound fucking, explicit gore, I cannot emphasize this enough STRAIGHT UP PENIS IN BRAIN SEX, brain creampie, guns/shooting/etc, age gap but everyone is a consenting adult, fake out death, Toby vomits a little at the end, cum leaking out of face holes it should never be in, mirror sex, rough dom top Tim, Tim bullies Toby for his trauma regarding his physically abusive father, use of homophobic language/slurs, degradation, just general nastiness, very mean spirited. NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. THIS IS AS DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT AS IT GETS.

A/N: if you skipped the warnings on this one or didn’t read them all the way, go back and fucking look at all of them, otherwise don’t read.

Breaking and entering.

It’s a routine for Tim and Toby at this point.

Tim can brute force open any door, Toby can pick any lock, and both of them have long since shaken off any qualms about taking a life. They’re skilled at it now, neither of them ever leaving the cabin without their weapon of choice. In a line of work like this one, after all, you can never be too prepared.

This was supposed to be easy.

Three people in the house, a couple and their third wheel squatting in an abandoned vacation home. Bare bones interior, probably no weapons.

Probably.

A lot of good ‘probably’ had done them.

Toby had gone in while Tim stood watch in the doorway, just in case one of their targets tried to run out. His revolver fit into his palm like a glove, his grip confident and ready. He’s done this a million times before.

Tim can only hear the altercation going on in the back rooms of the house, but he has a good idea of what’s happening.

The sound of a hatchet coming down onto a throat.

One down.

A woman screams. Something knocks over, a shelf or a table. A splatter. Silence.

Two down.

A man cries out. Something hits the wall. Rogers swears. There’s a struggle. A gunshot rings out.

…A gunshot.

A gunshot?!

Footsteps.

Fast, frantic footsteps coming down the hallway.

Tim readies himself, aiming towards the dark hall with a hand that is far too steady. He’s holding his breath. The steps are getting closer.

In a split second’s time the last target emerges from the shadows, Tim’s gaze zeroes in on the whites of his eyes and the trigger of his revolver is pulled by a swift finger one, two, then three times.

The shots ring in his ears as the body falls limply to the floor, devoid of life in an instant.

Three down.

But still one bullet unaccounted for.

“Rogers?” Tim calls into the hallway, stepping over the body without looking down.

No answer.

“Rogers!” He says again, with more authority this time.

Nothing.

That little fucker runs his mouth like an engine at all hours of the day, but now he’s quiet?

A stabbing pain of fear twists in Tim’s gut.

Their ‘boss’ won’t let them die, he knows that. The pseudo immortality they’ve been given keeps their bodies functioning and regenerating even after some of the worst injuries one could imagine; he knows that, he’s felt it, and yet…

This silence is sickening.

He can’t stop himself from rushing into the makeshift bedroom, heavy boots on the creaky wood floor announcing his presence before he calls for his partner again.

“Answer me, dammit, Rogers!”

He looks around the room, scanning the blood splattered walls. Two bodies are slumped against them, opposite to each other, one with its neck severed and the head hanging on by a thread of viscera, and the other with half of its innards thrown to the floor. Neither are Toby, he knows that in an instant.

Then his gaze trails to the center of the floor.

The cold washes over him so suddenly he feels faint. He can feel the color draining from his face as he lays eyes on his partner, face down on the ground, a thick splatter of blood painting a moonlit halo around his head.

Or what’s left of it, anyways.

A hastily fired bullet has carved a path through the boy’s skull and out the other side.

Clean through.

Tim’s body seizes with shock, disgust, grief, and everything in between, tensing so suddenly and so harshly he nearly passes out. A hand clamps over his mouth as it opens in a silent scream, a gasp that can’t escape because he can’t breathe. He rushes to the body before he can stop himself.

“Rogers?! Rogers, get up!” He demands, but the way his voice cracks and trembles shows his true fear. He shakes his partner’s still body harshly, desperate to jar him into consciousness.

There’s no movement.

Not a sound.

Tim’s eyes start to wet behind his mask. He shakes harder, even bringing a fist down on his shoulder blade.

Nothing.

“This isn’t fucking funny, Toby!” Tim screams, landing a few more punches on his back, “I’ve seen you take worse than this, get up!”

Not even a twitch.

The realization settles in like splinters under Tim’s skin.

He backs away from the body, the room spinning around him. He grasps at his face under his mask, his lungs starting to expand and restrict so fast it’s painful. There’s a searing panic burning the back of his skull and threatening to engulf his entire body. He stumbles back and falls onto one of the now bloodied mattresses their targets had been sleeping on.

This isn’t happening.

He’s not really gone.

He’s not really gone he’s not really gone he’s not really gone he’s not really gone he’s not really gone—

A sudden noise makes Tim jump out of his skin, his eyes shooting up to find the source of the sound.

Was that a…cough?

He looks down at Toby’s body.

It hasn’t moved.

Maybe it was just air escaping, or some other weird thing bodies do after death. If he didn’t get up already, then he must be…

Tim nearly screams when Toby suddenly splutters and hacks, his body jerking as he fights for air. Tim is frozen in place as he watches the partner he thought was dead slowly struggle to get up, managing to get on his hands and knees. He coughs again, spitting onto the ground and groaning at the unpleasant but not unfamiliar sight of blood.

“Yeugh…god, it’s in m-my nose,” Toby mumbles with a sniffle, wiping his face with his sleeve. He doesn’t notice Tim as he sits up on his knees, inspecting himself in a way that is far too casual.

…He has no idea what just happened.

Tim can feel his eye twitching as he stands up slowly, his frenzied gaze trained on the younger man as he approaches. Toby looks up at the sound of the footsteps, and Tim has to stop himself from reacting to the sight. His body trembles as he forces himself to stay still.

Toby’s right eye is completely gone. There’s not even a shred of the eyeball left, only a pulsing, bloody cavity he instantly recognizes as the entry hole of a bullet.

Toby blinks up at Tim with his remaining eye.

“S-Shit, I must’ve passed out when—bitch!—when h-he hit me, heh. What, you-you thought I was—grrrk!—d-dead for real?” Toby asks with a head tilt and an amused giggle. Tim’s eyes narrow.

Slowly Tim turns his head, following the imaginary trail the bullet would have made based on where Toby fell.

Right there, lodged into the decrepit wall right next to the doorway.

The first bullet.

Clean through, and out the back.

Toby follows his gaze, squinting in the dark to see whatever it is his senior partner is seeing.

“…O-Oh shit,” He mutters, “Talk about a-a close—don’t listen!—a close call—c-call—call me!—hehe…”

Tim stares back at him with a look in his eyes that says ‘You have no fucking idea.’

“…W-Why are you looking at me— a-at me like that?”

Tim looks around. For some reason, he’s not sure how to answer that.

That is, until he lays eyes on a conspicuously mirror shaped object draped in a sheet and pushed into the corner.

Yeah, it’s easier to just show him.

Tim shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he walks over to the mirror, trying not to rush. He’s annoyed with Toby for scaring him like that and nearly bringing him to tears, even if it’s not really his fault. Maybe startling him a bit will take the edge off that embarrassment.

Toby’s eye follows him closely as he walks, then watches as his hand slowly raises to grasp the sheet obscuring the mirror. His brow raises, curiosity piqued.

The sheet is pulled away in an instant. The cloud of dust that results makes Toby cough, trying to wave it away from his face. He squints through the grimy mist, struggling to make out his own reflection in the mirror.

“L-Look, Tim, I don’t know what it-it is that you n-need me to—suck it! fuck you!—see, but I-I don’t— Oh my fucking God?!”

There it is.

Toby crawls closer to the mirror, his remaining eye wider than Tim had ever seen it and the hole where the matching one would’ve been stretching gruesomely.

Tim winces. Toby can’t feel it, even if he could feel pain normally all that nerve damage would make it numb, but Tim can’t stop imagining what it would feel like.

“…Jesus Christ…” Is all Toby can manage as he looks at what remains of his face. He feels around the wound, getting far too close to touching the exposed insides for Tim’s comfort. Toby stares at himself for a long few moments. Tim can’t tell what he’s thinking.

Then Toby turns to his partner, and to Tim’s surprise, he’s sporting the widest, most lopsided grin he’s ever seen, his crooked teeth stained with blood on one side where it runs down his cheek from the wound. Tim holds back a shudder.

“The fuck you cheesin’ for?” Tim growls, walking around behind Toby to see him in the mirror, “You nearly got half your damn face blown off!”

“Relax, o-old man!” Toby replies without missing a beat, “In a-a few days there won’t e-even be a— b-be a mark…”

Tim rolls his eyes behind his mask. That’s true, yes. An injury this extensive will take a bit to regenerate, but it’ll grow back like nothing happened. Still, Toby doesn’t even seem mildly disturbed. He practically saw himself die, and here he is giggling to himself and moving his face in odd ways just to see the horrid wound contort in the mirror. The quiet squelching noises it makes nearly bring Tim to vomit.

“…You’re not even a little put off by the fact that…you know. You’re missing half your fuckin’ face?!”

Toby lets out a sharp laugh at Tim’s outburst, amused by his clear discomfort.

“Don’t be s-such a—bitch! bastard!— baby, I-I think it’s—asshole!—I think it’s k-kinda cool. Besides…”

He turns to look up at Tim, yellow teeth glowing in the moonlight that leaks in through the busted windows.

“…I-I got a brand new hole f-for you to try out.”

Tim gasps in disgust. Before he can think a hand comes up to smack Toby upside the head, though he immediately regrets it when a splatter of blood is thrown to the floor as Toby rocks forward.

“Don’t say shit like that, you dirty fuckin’ pervert!”

Toby nearly breaks out into hysterics at that, grabbing his sides as he laughs like a maniac. His tics increase tenfold at the sudden rush of energy, his fingers flexing unnaturally and tearing at his sweatshirt.

“H-How can I not?! You m-make it so f-fucking—fuck! funny!— fun, haha!” Toby replies, his voice cracking as his head jerks involuntarily in all directions.

Tim crosses his arms, huffing in annoyance but not sure what to say. He can feel his cheeks getting warm under his mask. He hates when Toby laughs at him. It pisses him off like nothing else.

He stares daggers into Toby’s restless reflection as he leans into the mirror to inspect his wound again, mumbling to himself endlessly and doing his best to stay still.

Toby’s rambling starts to fade out as Tim glares at his mirror image. He can feel something dark bubbling up inside of him, its vines sprawling out and over his body as he marinates in his thoughts.

He thought he was gone.

For a second there, he really thought he’d lost Toby for good.

And now here he is, without a care in the world, looking at his own fucking gunshot wound like it’s a new tattoo.

Someone oughta teach this kid a lesson.

Tim’s not sure what comes over him, but something, a nagging little thought has settled into his brain and taken root there. It thumps in the back of his skull like a heartbeat under the floorboards. He pulls one of his hands from its glove, looking down at his bare palm.

“…You think this is all some joke, don’t you?” Tim mutters, forcing the words through gritted teeth. Toby doesn’t even turn to look at him.

“W-Why are so damn u-uptight, old man? It’s not—grrrk!—it’s not like I d-died. Psuedo-immortality, r-remember?”

“But you could’ve. You know at the end of the day you can’t really trust anything that monster gives you. It would kill you in an instant if it felt threatened or betrayed.”

“T-The fuck is your— i-is your problem?!”

Suddenly Toby isn’t all smiles anymore. His head jerks to the side violently, pulling a sickening pop from his neck. Tim is used to these mood swings, but that doesn’t stop the heavy tension that settles over the room.

“Y-You’re always on my back about something, a-aren’t you old man?!” Toby hisses. Tim’s ungloved hand squeezes and flexes at his side.

“You a-always got something to say about m-me, or what I—fucker! shit!—what I-I think, you can never j-just let me—“

Toby is cut off as a high pitched cry is violently forced from his throat, making his body spasm as it dissolves into an animalistic moan like neither of them have ever heard. It feels like every nerve in his body is seizing, splitting apart and contorting under his skin. He almost screams at the feeling, but he can’t manage it. He’s choking on nothing.

There’s a sickening squelch as something is ripped from the back of his skull, and he falls forward onto his hands, dizzy and struggling to breathe.

“W-What…what the f-fuck…was…”

He can’t even finish the sentence between his inability to process the unnatural sensation that just overtook him and the indescribable feeling still rippling through his body.

Slowly he cranes his neck to look back up into the mirror. Instantly his eye is locked onto Tim’s, but he isn’t looking back. He’s staring at something else.

He follows Tim’s gaze down slowly, swallowing thickly with a sudden nervousness. His eye widens as it falls on the thing that has captivated Tim‘s gaze:

His ungloved hand, the middle and ring fingers now dripping with blood and viscera not his own.

No. Fucking. Way.

“Did…d-did you just…”

Tim doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t have to.

For the first time in a long time, Toby is still. His twitching and jerking ceases, his face halts its uncomfortable wrenching; He’s still, and soundless.

There’s a beat of silence where they both just stare at Tim’s bloodied hand, neither of them moving an inch. It’s like time has stopped in this instant. Toby can feel his heartbeat throbbing in his brain. Something in his chest is twisting and turning with a burning emotion he can’t quite place yet.

He doesn’t even have time to process the sudden movement before Tim has plunged his fingers into the wound once again.

This time Toby is forced to watch his reflection in the mirror as Tim violates the gorey cavity, thick digits rooting around inside his head and shooting a new sensation through him with every touch. His entire body stiffens, his mouth falling open involuntarily as he loses control of it. He can feel his senses being reduced to mush as he groans, the endless sound falling from his lips in unintelligible waves. It’s mindless, desperate babbling, but he can’t do anything else.

Toby watches the depraved scene in the mirror until his eye starts to roll back in his head, further than it should be able to. Tim watches the hazel iris recede until only white is left. Only then does he finally give some reprieve, yanking his hand back and shaking off the chunks that come with it.

Toby’s head bows towards the ground as he catches his breath, his entire body rocking as he heaves desperately for air. He’s too preoccupied to notice the way Tim is leering down at him, his breathing now hot and labored.

“…How did that feel?”

Toby sneers at the question, not looking up.

“H-How did it feel?! You’re d-digging around—shhhh!— in m-my fucking brain, d-dipshit, how do you— d-do you think it f-feels?!”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking. I know it doesn’t hurt, so how does it feel?”

For some reason, Toby doesn’t have an answer to that. He wants to snap back with something witty and biting, to tell him it feels like Hell and back and if he doesn’t stop he’ll scatter his brains next, but…

That wouldn’t be the total truth.

“…It…I-It feels…” He stammers, unable to find the words. He sits back up on his knees, locking eyes with his partner in the mirror. Tim is silent. He’s anticipating the rest of that sentence. Toby thinks for a moment, a series of tongue clicks in an odd rhythm sounding as he pauses.

“…It…I-It wasn’t bad, if that’s w-what you’re looking for.”

Tim’s breath hitches.

Only Toby could hear a sound so small, yet so telling.

He has to push this further.

“A-Actually it was kind of…k-kind of good, y-you know? I-I don’t know—rrrngh!—how to explain it, but i-it just…it’s like n-nothing I’ve ever f-felt or imagined, I-I—“

Toby cuts himself off with a gasp as Tim grasps his hair tightly. His other hand moves to his belt. The sound of the metal buckle makes Toby shiver.

Tim leans down a bit, speaking lowly to his partner.

“Keep talking.”

Toby’s stomach flips.

Tim’s not giving him a choice.

“I-It’s like…fuck, it’s l-like every muscle in my— in my b-body is spasming like c-crazy,” Toby continues, watching with crazed eyes as Tim slides the belt from its loops. He grits his teeth as it clatters to the ground.

He doesn’t want this to stop.

He has to keep going.

“I-It’s like f-fire under my skin, b-but I can’t feel t-the burn…”

Tim’s hand moves to the fly of his jeans.

“…I-I lose all control of m-my body, I can’t—fuck off!—I-I can’t even think, i-it just all turns i-into gibberish…”

Tim tugs down his zipper, and Toby can see his twitching bulge straining against his boxers.

“…It’s l-like I can feel myself l-losing my mind, and I c-can’t do anything— d-do anything about it, I c-can’t even p-put—put it back! put it back!—put together a sentence…”

Tim hooks a thumb under the waistband of his boxers. He starts to push them down.

“…F-Fuck, Tim, I-I wanna feel it again.”

Toby clamps a hand over his mouth to stifle the moan that threatens to break free as he watches Tim’s erection spring free from the confines of his clothes. He’s thick and uncut, throbbing with rabid need. Toby shudders as his partner lets out a relieved groan, breathing hard under his mask.

“S-Shit, Tim…y-your—your cock! your cock!—n-no! I mean you’re—your cock! your cock! fat cock!—dammit! I-I didn’t mean to s-say that—!”

“I’m taking you up on your offer, Rogers…” Tim growls, cutting off Toby’s attempt to explain himself. He grabs Toby’s head with both hands, fingers digging into the front of his wound on one side and the gash in his cheek on the other. This time Toby doesn’t bother to stop the moan that crawls up his throat as he feels Tim’s cock rut against the back of his head.

“…I wanna give this new hole of yours a proper fucking. What do you say?”

Toby can’t see Tim’s mouth, but he can tell he’s smiling from the way his eyes crinkle at the corners behind his mask. Toby groans at the thought. He can’t stop the crooked grin that spreads across his pale face like butter on a hot pan.

“P…P-Please, Tim,” He whispers, and he knows he’s hit a nerve when he feels Tim‘s grip tighten for a moment.

“…Please what, Rogers?”

He figured he wouldn’t get it that easy.

“Please, Tim,” Toby continues, sucking in a breath and swallowing his pride, “I-I want you t-to fuck me, please—“

Tim ruts against the back of his head again, barely brushing his wound. He wants more.

“P-Please, fuck, I-I’m—need! give it!—I’m begging you! I need it, I-I need you to fuck m-my brains out, please!”

Tim shifts his hips. He’s lining up at the opening.

It’s working.

“Please, please, p-please, Tim, I-I want you to f-fuck my brain! I n-need to—fffuck! fuck! fuck!—I need t-to feel it! Please, dammit, j-just fucking—!”

Toby doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence.

Tim shoves himself inside the bloody cavity without warning, forcing Toby’s brain out of the way as his cock enters. The scream that rocks Toby’s body is as lustful as it is carnal and gruesome. He reaches up on instinct and grabs Tim’s wrists, not trying to pull his hands away but holding on for dear life before he loses the ability to move at all.

“You broke so easy,” Tim sneers as he bottoms out, talking over Toby’s uncontrollable moaning, “What would the others think if they saw you begging for dick like a whore on the street? Huh?!”

He punctuates his sentence with a sudden rut of his hips, making Toby yelp and his body jerk. His nails dig into Tim’s arms, and the pain is delicious.

Tim studies the scene before him in the mirror.

It’s disgusting. It’s horrid. He can see the tip of his leaking cock resting inside his partner’s skull.

He doesn’t want this to end.

He’s going to relish this opportunity, every sickening moment of it.

“What would they think…”

Tim starts to pull back, breath trembling at the slick noises from the movement.

“…If they knew I had you whining for me like a dirty fuckin’ sissy?!”

He pushes back in with even more force than before. Blood is forced out the front of the wound, dripping down Toby’s face and onto the floor, leaving a red trail on his skin. His meaningless babbling is music to Tim’s ears.

Again Tim pulls back, faster this time, and pushes in again. He watches Toby’s face in the mirror as he finds his rhythm, completely enamored as it contorts with overwhelming sensations that no human should ever experience. His mouth is hanging completely open, his tongue limp and lying against his chin as he pants and wails desperately like a dog in heat. He’s starting to drool from the lack of muscle control.

There’s something about watching Toby quite literally lose his mind at his hand that makes Tim feel like God.

“You know, I like you a lot better when you can’t run your mouth,” Tim says with a chuckle. He digs his fingers into the front of the wound, groping around in the cavity and feeling the pulsing meat shift under the pads of his fingertips.

“You’re lucky I’m not gonna tell anyone about this, not gonna tell the others you’re a nasty fuckin’ faggot who’s so desperate for dick you’d take it in your brain…at least someone’s finally making use of the lump of meat in your head, eh?!”

He pulls Toby’s skull back on his cock hard and fast, fucking into the hole with more fervor than he thought possible. His arms are bleeding now from where Toby’s nails are digging in, his knuckles locked up as his motor function is ripped to shreds.

Tim’s eyes trail down the reflection as he thrusts, down to Toby’s body and stopping at the tent in his pants. There’s a painfully obvious stain on his groin now where his erection is straining against the denim of his jeans with wretched need. His precum is leaking through the material in viscous waves, a constant stream of shameful arousal. It looks like it hurts, like his zipper is about to burst, but Tim has no interest in granting him even that small mercy of freeing his hard-on.

“Damn,” He mumbles to himself, watching the liquid pool where the tip of his partner’s cock pushes against his pants, “You really are enjoying this, aren’t you? You’re not just tolerating it to see how far I’ll go, you’re getting off on this shit! You’re a dirty fuckin’ boy slut!”

He’s getting mean, meaner than he really needs to be, but he doesn’t care. Toby might not even be able to hear him, and even if he can, Tim’s not going to waste this chance while his partner can’t snap back.

He ruts his hips more intentionally, trying to hit every spot he can. He’s catching on to patterns, that certain touches here or there make Toby twitch or jerk or yelp involuntarily. His eye has rolled back in his head almost completely. It looks agonizing, and it only makes Tim thrust faster.

“Then again, in that messed up little mind of yours I bet this is nothing. You’re so used to gettin’ beat on this practically soft to you, ain’t it?! Or did your old man slam your head into the concrete too many times for you to know the damn difference?!”

Tim’s practically screaming at him now, drool running down his chin and neck as he loses himself to the pleasure. It’s unbearably hot under his mask, but he can’t bring himself to release his death grip on Toby’s head to take it off.

“I should’ve put you in your place a long time ago, lord knows you’ve needed it for who knows how long!”

Tim angles his hips upward a bit, brushing against a certain spot that makes Toby tense and cry out suddenly. The thing Tim notices most, though, is the way Toby’s cock twitches in his pants. It spurts just a bit, not climaxing yet but getting dangerously close. The stain on the front of his pants is only growing with each passing second that Tim violates his brain.

“Oh, you really are disgusting,” Tim huffs, “You’re really about to cum in your pants, and I haven’t even touched your cock? That’s pathetic, Rogers.”

Tim angles his hips up again just to watch the precum gush from his partner’s tip, his stomach flipping in his gut at the thought that Toby is so, so damn close, but he can’t beg for more or touch himself or even move at all.

“Nngh…Like hell I’m gonna let a little bitch boy like you cum first, though.”

He takes a moment to adjust his grip. He’s preparing for the last stretch.

The speed of his thrusting increases tenfold, completely losing all sense of rhythm. He can feel the pleasure taking him over, melting his resolve and screaming at him to go, go, go, just keeping going, go until you can’t anymore, and that’s exactly what he intends to do.

“You better take all of my cum, Rogers,” Tim growls through gritted teeth, “Though I ain’t exactly giving you a choice, am I? You’ll take it whether you like it or not…”

He hasn’t looked away from Toby’s face in the mirror. The sight of it twitching and frozen in a state of screaming ecstasy is like a horrific work of art. Tim’s never going to forget it. He won’t forget any of this. Every second is burned into his brain, and he’s more than happy to keep it that way.

The gory cavity is carved into the shape of Tim’s cock by now, each thrust only feeding the growing puddle of blood and viscera on the ground below Toby. That stain will stay there forever, Tim thinks. A permanent reminder of the debauchery the two of them are so gleefully partaking in. The idea of someone else finding this old house scattered with bodies, walking around and not even knowing the half of what these walls have been subjected to…

God, that’s good.

The knot in Tim’s stomach starts to tighten.

He can’t hold on for much longer. Neither can Toby.

Tim angles his hips in that special way again, hitting that sensitive spot over and over and over again with each frenzied thrust. Toby’s practically soaking himself now, so close to the edge but not quite close enough to fall off, though he runs the risk with each passing second. It’s barely a matter of time.

Faster, faster, faster, that’s the only thing Tim can think.

More, more, more, that’s all he can think about.

Faster, faster, faster, more, more, more, more, more more more moremoremore—

“Shit!”

Suddenly Tim throws his head back with a wild noise, his cock releasing without warning into the bloody cavity he’s been so graciously desecrating. At the same time he brushes that spot again, and it’s finally enough to give Toby his release, too, only a second later. His cum soaks the front of his now completely ruined jeans, the shameful stain running down his groin and thighs. The scream he lets out as his climax rocks his body will haunt Tim’s dreams.

Tim’s thrusting doesn’t slow to a stop until it feels like his balls are empty. Only then does he finally go still, allowing himself to breathe. He looks up at the ceiling as he pants, letting his eyes flutter closed for a moment as his orgasm gradually washes away.

Finally Tim allows his fingers to unfurl, releasing Toby as he pulls his cock from his ruined skull. It comes back soaked in blood and sticky with viscera, taking a few chunks with it. He tries to step back, but Toby’s still gripping his wrists.

He manages to shake him off, only for Toby’s body to go completely limp and fall forward, face first onto the dusty wood floor and into the puddle of mixed bodily fluids. He twitches a bit, but doesn’t move or show any signs of life beyond that. Anyone else would think he’s dead.

“I’m not falling for that again,” Tim mumbles with an eye roll, using his discarded glove to wipe off his now flaccid cock before tucking it back into his boxers and zipping up his pants.

He crouches over Toby, grabbing his hair and forcing him up from the floor back onto his knees. All Toby can manage is a pathetic groan. Tim studies his partner’s fucked-out face in the mirror for a moment, watching as the blood and seed lazily roll down his cheek and chin. He can’t help but chuckle to himself.

“…Anything to say for yourself?” Tim asks teasingly, shaking him a bit.

The only response he gets is the sound of gagging as Toby retches. Tim barely moves back in time to watch him cough up a horrible concoction of blood, cum, and God knows what else without being in the splash zone.

“Goddammit, watch it!” Tim scolds cruelly, “If you hurl on my new boots I’m leaving you like this.”

He at least has the decency to let Toby finish before scooping up his limp, helpless body. He carries him under his arm like a log, not taking any care to be gentle.

“I’ll get you back home to Eyeless,” Tim mutters, “He doesn’t ask too many questions, and he’ll patch you up good ‘til you’re all healed…”

Tim tries not to think too hard as he carries his partner out of the house, away from the crime scene and into the endless wooded darkness.

All is quiet for a moment, save for the sound of Tim’s heavy steps on the dry leaves. That is, until what Tim thinks is a muffled giggle sounds from his partner. He stops and looks back, but there’s no more noise.

Dammit, he thinks.

Neither of us are going to be forgetting this.

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

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p0ssym1lker · 1 year

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Danny bites kon and somehow manages to actually hurt him, like barely but there are intends and very little blood

He apologizes Profously

Meanwhile both Tim and Kon just stare at it, stare at each other and have the "is this a kink" look

#dc x dp #dc #danny fenton #dp x dc #danny phantom #kon el #kon el kent #tim drake wayne #tim drake #biting kink #polyamory

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katareyoudrilling · 3 days

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Evidence ✂️ (Tim Rockford One-shot)

Pairing: Tim Rockford x Female Reader

Summary: Tim knows a lot about vasectomies

Word count: ~1.8k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: Vasectomy kink (aka the opposite of breeding kink), unprotected PIV, vague detective work (don’t worry about it), destruction of important documents?

A/N: It has been a while since I wrote one of these! Big thanks to @veryprairieberry for sparking the idea and for patience while I pondered it for a very long time. Also, thanks to @burntheedges for the beta and assuring me I was not crazy lol. All my vasectomy kinks are marked with “✂️” and linked on my new Vasectomy Kink Masterlist!

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

Vasectomy Kink Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist – link in my bio or ask me to add you!

“Think,” Tim admonishes himself, staring at the board filled with crime scene photographs and bits of evidence. “What are we missing?”

“We’ve been staring at it for days.” You pull at your neck, trying to relieve the tension, a habit you likely picked up from your partner. Sharing an office with someone will do that. You sigh and sit down at your desk, leafing through pages of witness testimony you’ve gone over a hundred times already. “Maybe we should call it a night. Look again in the morning?”

A knock at the door interrupts you. “Excuse me, detectives, the medical records you requested arrived. Thought I’d drop them off on my way out.” A lackey from the records office holds out a manilla envelope in Tim’s direction.

“Thanks,” Tim stands up from the chair he had been straddling and takes the envelope. He pulls out the stack of papers and begins to scan them one by one.

“I don’t know what you expect to find in there.” Your frustration over this case has made you pessimistic.

“You never know,” Tim mumbles under his breath as he continues reading page after page. You go back to your testimony, looking for anything you could have missed. Apparently, you’re not done for the evening.

“Got it!” Tim exclaims making his way over to you and dropping the stack of papers on top of your desk with a thud.

You read the top page. “He had a vasectomy?”

“He had a vasectomy,” Tim repeats back to you. “Five years ago. He isn’t the father.”

“You don’t know that. Vasectomies fail.” It’s compelling, but not the slam dunk Tim seems to think.

“No, they don’t, not if…” He shuffles through the papers some more. “There,” he points to a test result a few pages later, “he gave a follow up sample and no sperm was detected. The chance of a vasectomy failing after that point is basically zero. Men just say that to get out of having it done.”

“How do you know so much about vasectomies?”

“Well, I had one.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, long time ago,” he says distractedly as he makes his way back to the board of evidence, rearranging things in light of this new discovery. He picks up his mug of, what has to be by now, very cold coffee and takes a sip.

You, on the other hand, are frozen at your desk. Tim had a vasectomy? Tim is shooting blanks?

This information is eliciting a strong reaction in your body.

It’s swooping through your gut.

It’s making your palms sweat and your skin prickle.

It’s…

Rage.

Burning rage floods your system, heating your skin and making your heart pound.

“You had a vasectomy?” you ask him again, trying to keep your tone even.

“Yeah, are you… angry?” Tim turns to face you, looking confused. Maybe your voice wasn’t as neutral as you hoped.

“I’ll be asking the questions, Detective Rockford.” You push back from your desk and stand up slowly. You take a deep breath in and exhale through your nose, keeping your voice deadly calm, as if you’re interrogating a suspect. His forehead creases in confusion, but he waits for you to speak. “When did you have it done?”

“Twelve years ago now, I guess.”

“Why?”

“I decided kids weren’t something I was interested in, seemed like the right thing to do.”

“I see,” you pace across the room, tapping your finger to your lips, rage still simmering below the surface of your skin.

His eyes follow you as you go.

“You made this decision on your own?”

“Well, yeah. I wasn’t in a relationship at the time. I don’t und….” You hold up a finger to silence him mid-sentence.

“You found the doctor, scheduled it, all of that?”

“Of course.”

“So, you are telling me…” You turn to face him as he takes another sip of his coffee, “that I could have had you bare these past six months?”

Tim chokes.

When he finally stops coughing, he wipes his hand across his mouth. “Is that why you’re upset?”

“Yes! We’ve been using condoms when we didn’t need to!”

“There are other reasons to wear a condom.”

“Do I need to be worried about any of those reasons with you?”

“Well, no.”

“You don’t need to be worried about them with me either.”

“I never thought I did.”

“You’re so fucking responsible.” The words come out angry, but there’s a new heat growing in your core. Responsibility is fucking hot.

“I’m… sorry?” Tim apologizes as you make your way to the office door and lock it.

“You should be sorry.” You stalk towards him until you’re close enough to grab him by the holsters. You watch as his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. You pull yourself flush with his front, noting the bulge pressing against your thigh.

“How can I make it up to you?” he rasps.

“Fuck me on your desk, Detective. Bare.”

“You’re so fucking sexy when you’re angry,” he growls, pulling you into a searing kiss. His tongue invades your mouth as you both scramble with belts, buttons, and clasps. You’ve come to love the taste of bitter coffee and Chinese takeout on Tim’s tongue. Tastes you will forever associate with him as it’s never been very long since he’s had either.

Your clothes come off quickly in between frantic kisses, but you stop him as he moves to remove his shirt and holsters. “Don’t… I need something to hold on to.”

“Fuck, baby, when you say things like that…” his fingers dig into your bare hips as you set your ass at the edge of the desk and lean back on your elbows, opening yourself up for him with a smirk.

Tim’s cock bobs eagerly in front of you, framed by his open shirt. He takes it in his hand, stroking slowly up and down the thick length.

Pages of documents crinkle underneath you, but you can’t care. Right now, all that matters is the beautiful man looking down at you with lust blown eyes.

“I want your cock, Tim. Now.”

He steps into the space between your open legs, cock in hand, and guides the tip through your wet pussy. You both groan as he nudges at your clit and drags back through your folds.

“So wet,” he whispers, reverently. He repeats his path several times, coating his cock in your slick before notching the head at your entrance. “You sure you don’t want my fingers first?”

You vehemently shake your head and bite your lip as you look down between your legs. He nudges at your entrance gently and you whimper.

“I know baby, I know,” he soothes you, and probably himself, from how completely wrecked he looks – slack jawed and panting. With a guttural groan, he breaches your entrance.

You both watch as his bare length disappears into your wet heat.

“Oh god, fuck,” your eyes roll back in your head as he enters you slowly, stretching your sensitive pussy around his cock, working his way in inch by inch. You feel the thick ridge of his head drag along your walls as your body gives way. Without any barrier between you, the sensation is divine.

“Fuck, baby,” Tim breathes as he bottoms out inside you. “I need a second. You feel so good.” He closes his eyes, overcome with the feeling of you. His hands flex against your bare thighs as he takes deep, centering breaths.

After a few moments, he opens his eyes, locking his gaze with yours and, slowly, starts to move.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whine with each slow thrust and drag of his cock. Sex with Tim has been good, great even, but this… this is heaven. You glance down to watch his clock slide in and out of you. The sight of him veiny and glistening is almost too much to bear. Your pussy begins to flutter.

Tim leans over you, pressing your knees into your chest. “Fuck, you’re amazing. So wet and hot and tight. It’s been…. oh god… so long…”

The new angle hits just right and you can feel your orgasm building.

“Yes, just like that,” you throw your head back. “Fuck, your cock feels good.”

Tim licks his thumb and finds your clit between your bodies, speeding up your impending release.

“Are you going to come on my cock, baby?”

“Oh god, yes, please,” you beg, feeling the telltale pressure deep in your core.

“You have to be quiet for me,” he rumbles under his breath. You’re not new to sneaking around at work, but until now you had saved the fucking for outside the office. “Look at us,” he murmurs, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts.

You look down and gasp at the sight of his thick cock entering your pussy. The last of your control snaps and you’re pulsing around him as you try not to scream his name and announce your relationship to the entire precinct.

When you come back to yourself, Tim is still slowly dragging himself through your sensitive walls, nostrils flared, clearly fighting to delay his own release.

Aftershocks zing through your body and you clench around him.

He hisses and pauses, “Baby, if you squeeze me like that, I’m going to come.”

You smile to yourself as he picks up his rhythm again, then squeeze as he pulls most of the way out.

He gasps and pulls out the rest of the way, pressing a kiss to your knee and laughing, “You have to stop that.”

“What if I don’t want to stop that?” You reach between your legs with one arm and grab his holster, pulling him to you for a sloppy kiss. “I want you to come. Fill me up, Detective.”

Tim practically growls as he lines himself back up with your entrance and slides in fast and deep. You bring your other hand up to grab the holster on the other side, balancing on your ass and holding on for dear life as he thrusts into you. His strong arms cage you in and support you as he pants into your neck.

“You feel so good, what was I thinking not fucking you bare this whole time? Oh god… oh fuck…” he stutters as he empties himself inside you.

You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, nuzzling into his neck and his scruff as he catches his breath.

“Who would have thought… responsible Detective Rockford fucking in his office.”

Tim chuckles into your shoulder. “Can’t be responsible all the time.”

You smile and pull his lips to yours for a soft kiss. “Let’s get out of here.” You peel your ass off the papers on the desk and turn to survey the crinkled mess you’ve left behind. “That’s going to be a problem.”

Tim wraps his arms around your waist and kisses your shoulder, “Eh, I’ll just spill some coffee on it, no one will know the difference.”

You laugh, “Tim Rockford, you are just full of surprises.”

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

Vasectomy Kink Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist – in reblog

#tim rockford #tim rockford x reader #vasectomy kink #vasectomy kink club #pedro pascal characters

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thymbyll · 6 months

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doctorjackdaw · 4 months

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tim and sasha were winning the poll when i started drawing this SO. have some sweet archival assistants before anybody gets... well <3

#tmpreg #mpreg #belly k!nk #do not archive #tma mpreg #preg kink #listen tim is handsome #but looking at this in its entirety this is the hottest sasha i've drawn #theyre both trans t4t lets go

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muuuumin · 1 day

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Halloween twist where a magic spell gave Jason some big (and nice) canines.

Dick: please don't start ripping out the limbs of criminals with your teeth.

Tim: please bite me with your teeth.

#tim drake #maybe he has a kink #jason todd #JayTim #red robin #red hood

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punkeropercyjackson · 1 month

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Every single person i've seen saying underaged x way older and incest dynamics are inherently lgbt culture has been white...........Yeah okay okay,i think i get it now

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promiseyouwillwrite · 4 months

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a Fellow Travelers prompt fest 🍆leave a prompt

🍑fill a prompt

👏everywhere a prompt prompt👏

tracking tag #promiseyouwillwrite

#not (just) for kink #you can prompt like. stories too #post your fics and tag us so we can rb!#promiseyouwillwrite #fellow travelers #hawk x tim #tim x hawk #fandom event

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comic-art-showcase · 4 months

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Bat Family by Damion Scott

#damion scott #batman #robin #stephanie brown #damian wayne #red robin #tim drake #batgirl #cassandra cain #batwing #david zavimbe #bat family #dc #batc*st shippers DO NOT INTERACT #kink/fetish blogs DO NOT INTERACT

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sister-lucifer · 1 month

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Tim x reader with scent kink and the monster in rut reader x proxies I can’t fucking wait for

so the scent kink one is slightly gross just be aware, there’s like explicit mentions of sweat and stuff

tim comes home after a long day and he’s exhausted. he pushes laundry duty onto reader, shoving his dirty clothes into their chest and telling them to just do it for him this once. reader begrudgingly agrees, deciding not to fight.

when they actually go to do the laundry, though, the catch a whiff of tim’s scent still clinging to his clothes and god, it’s good. better than it should be. normally they’d be disgusted by dirty, sweaty laundry still permeated with musk, but something about this is different. they cant stop themself from smelling his laundry, even rubbing themself through their pants. tim catches sight of the scene as he walks by the laundry room to get a drink, but choose not to say anything. not yet, anyways

a few days later when tim comes home, he catches reader red handed, wrist deep in his dirty laundry. they quickly try to throw together a story about getting his clothes to do a quick load, but he sees right through it. he wraps an arm around their neck and pulls them in close, and the smell of him is almost overwhelming.

“i tell you what,” he says with a chuckle, speaking lowly into reader’s ear, “if you like way i smell so much, why don’t i give you somewhere else to stick your nose, you needy mutt?”

monster reader is always a fun one.

basically reader has a rut cycle and the proxies have to take turns caring for them in order to keep them from losing their mind and possibly fucking anything that moves. it’s a three parter that explores the different ways toby, tim and brian handle such a task.

and of course, needy reader is always a good time

[if you wanna see more ideas like this you can find the list here]

#i’ve got mail!#marble hornets #fic idea #fic ideas #tim wright #masky #masky x reader #tim wright x reader #masky x reader smut #monster reader #scent kink

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suzukiblu · 5 months

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Expanded version of the "the Core Four gangs up on Kon's objectification kink" WIP, including a read-more because it's up to like 2k now, hah.

It's nice to all be alive and in the same reality and time period with the guys, which should really be easier to arrange than it actually is. Cassie had an easier time getting Cissie and Greta and Anita all together for a two-week road trip last summer than she has ever had getting Tim and Kon and Bart all alive and local and not replaced by a clone with fucked-up ethics for five fucking minutes.

Last time she'd thought she'd managed that, Match and Thad had shown up, plus Tim'd had to cancel last-minute for an Arkham breakout anyway.

It was so annoying that she hadn't even bothered telling Match and Thad that she'd known they were them until they'd both let her get to second base. Like, she wasn't actually gonna fuck them, obviously, they're supervillains and also she doesn't want to give either Kon or Bart any weird complexes or anything like that, but second base had seemed fair. Just for the inconvenience and all.

Also they'd both clearly needed more practice at making time anyway. Like–definitely. So really she'd figured she was doing them a favor.

They'd been hilariously shy about touching each other, for guys who'd been pretending to be Conner "No Regrets" Kent and Bart "No Restraint" Allen. Cassie had politely pretended not to find it adorable, because supervillains, and had just given some helpful tips disguised as voyeuristic requests.

And like, well, third base had been fine for them, she'd reasoned, since they were both supervillains.

They both blush way, way more easily than Kon and Bart do, she has learned.

Also if they're dating now, that's her bad and she probably owes the superhero community some very serious apologies for it? But like, she's not gonna be the one to bring it up. So as long as Cissie doesn't break the Sis Code about their last dish session, it'll be fine.

Though she does expect invited to that particular wedding, if it ever comes up.

Anyway. Off-topic.

Cassie spent three full days and a favor from both Oracle and Supergirl arranging this date night, so she has no intention of it going to waste or getting interrupted. She was not fool enough to plan an event or activity outside where criminals and idiots and idiot criminals and, worse, people they know abound; she'd just told the boys all when to be at her apartment and then very theatrically locked the door once she'd gotten them all inside.

Said lock is made of promethium and also full of godly magic, because fuck interruptions.

Aphrodite understands when a girl just really needs to get some with her sort-of boyfriends/ride-or-die teammates, thankfully.

Technically Young Justice is a situationship more than a superhero team these days, but they are just not gonna be explaining that to the Justice League. Like ever.

Maybe at their wedding.

Kon had suggested Netflix. Bart had suggested getting delivery. Tim had suggested a card game.

Cassie had taken her pants off, which had fortunately gotten them all on the same page.

So that’s how they’re here right now, with her straddling a half-naked Tim on the couch in just her shirt and panties and Kon and Bart on the other side of the coffee table and all tangled up together fully naked, because the bastards both have ridiculous amounts of super-speed and can therefore cheat their way out of their clothes and through the prep stage and foreplay without even letting her and Tim get a show, the brats.

And also because Kon can fly, so he doesn't really have to “weigh” all that much.

So that's how he's currently completely wrapped around Bart and being held up in his arms like he doesn't weigh a thing at all so Bart can fuck him standing. Cassie can fly too, obviously, but she doesn't like being held up like that without an anchor point or any contact with the ground or at least a wall–it makes her feel unbalanced, distracted, vulnerable.

Kon, apparently, really likes it.

Well, he was born able to fly, so maybe that's part of that. For her, the ability was a later development. For Kon, it's as natural and normal as walking or running.

Probably more so, actually.

And the visual of Kon's whole big broad body being held up in Bart's lithe, narrow arms like that, of him deliberately making the effort to keep himself there, to keep himself on Bart's cock–well, she likes that.

"Holy Hera," she mutters, and even the direct stimulation of Tim's dick rubbing up just-right against her cunt through their underwear and his hands on her hips pales a little in comparison to the show.

Look, she's just the visual type, okay?

"Don't take this the wrong way, but this feels kinda like I'm just using a toy, not holding a whole person," Bart says distractedly, his voice and hips both practically a blur. Cassie and Tim both bristle reflexively against each other, because that has got to be just about the stupidest possible thing he could've said to–

And Kon–bites his lip, a little, and shudders.

"A–toy?" he repeats unevenly.

"Oh," Bart says, freezing in place and then blinking lightning-fast a few dozen times, or maybe just once or twice. It's hard to tell, with Bart. "I mean, not like–well, yeah? I don't mean I think you're–"

"It's okay if you do," Kon blurts, his face flushing. Cassie kind of forgets she was about to get on Tim's dick and nearly falls off him. Tim nearly falls off the couch, so at least she's not alone there.

Bart's a lot faster on the uptake than any of the rest of them, though, so he just blinks one more time and then tilts his head. And then, casually–

"You would make a pretty good toy," he says. "We could pass you around a lot easier. And maybe you'd stop running off and getting lost on us all the time, too."

"Ngh," Kon says, ducking his head as his face gets even redder.

"I don't really have a toybox, though," Bart muses absentmindedly, watching Kon's face intently. "Might just have to leave you in my bed when we weren't using you. But then you'd be easy-access for playtime anyway, so–"

"Bart," Kon chokes, and Cassie sees the very obvious way his whole body clenches up.

"That setting's too tight. Go back to the last one," Bart says in that same casual, matter-of-fact tone from before, and Kon makes a strangled noise and visibly forces himself to relax again, just barely trembling.

"Well, this is a development," Cassie manages, which is more than Tim's apparently got; he's just staring.

"Kon–" he starts just a little warily, and Kon just shakes his head mutely.

"The off button's 'friction', if you run out of battery," Bart says, stroking up the small of Kon's back. "Got it?"

Kon nods, snapping his eyes shut, and still doesn't say a word.

"Good toy," Bart says, and Kon shudders. Bart stares at him for one last very, very intent microsecond that probably lasts about forty minutes in subjective time, then turns his head to look over at Cassie and Tim instead. And then he goes back to fucking Kon, but this time he isn't moving his own hips at all–just moving Kon by his grip on his, like he really is just holding a toy and using it how he pleases.

Kon lets him.

Cassie is going to spontaneously combust, she's pretty sure, and Tim looks like he might just keel over and die.

"Its hole feels pretty good," Bart tells them instead of Kon, his tone a little breathless but mostly just conversational. Kon digs his teeth into his lip with a strangled noise and his dick twitches sharply; outright spits precome. So apparently Cassie is going to spontaneously combust and Tim is going to keel over and die and Kon is probably going to do both, fucking hell, Bart is trying to kill them all, the little bastard.

"Does it?" Cassie manages only a bit faintly, because if they're doing this they're at least gonna do it right. Generally speaking Kon's the one with the most submissive tendencies, though they've all tried it at least a couple times. Cassie just doesn't really like the way subbing makes her feel and Bart gets restless and Tim gets neurotic, though every now and then one or the other of them is in the mood for a bit of it.

Kon will do it whenever one of them asks, though, and Cassie's pretty sure he'd do it even more often if he felt comfortable asking for it himself. Like–they talk about sex a lot, and Kon has to talk around the things he likes or wants a lot. Even more than Tim does, really. Tim can treat it like a mission report and Bart just has no shame and Cassie–well, it still takes some effort, but she's getting better at it, at least.

Kon just doesn't seem to be able to say the words at all, though, which considering his usual tendency to charge face-first at every single obstacle is . . . notable, maybe.

Cassie's never been sure if it's that he just doesn't feel safe asking for things he thinks he wants "too much", or if it's that he feels comfortable enough with them to not have to demand space and attention, and can just wait for it to come to him.

Kon's only ever full-stop safeworded when he was Domming, though. Never as a sub. He's used "yellow" a few times when he was getting overwhelmed or needed a little reassurance, yeah, but never once called a full stop to a scene.

That's not a thing any of them has ever pointed out, but Cassie's pretty sure they've all noticed it.

Maybe not Kon himself, but . . .

"Yeah," Bart says. "It can take a lot, too. I mean, duh, it's a toy, but still. Sturdy thing, y'know?"

"How much is 'a lot'?" Tim says, sounding not unlike he's been punched in the diaphragm. Cassie was definitely doing something with him a minute or three ago, but fuck if she remembers what it was. They've both got their pants off, that's her only clue here.

"Like, a lot," Bart says. "See?"

Then he tightens his grip on Kon's hips and they blur, electric and barely visible and crackling with the Speed Force's lightning. Faster than he can fuck Tim or even her–much faster than he can fuck Tim or her. Kryptonians are built for super-speed too, after all.

But not quite as much of it as a dedicated speedster is.

Cassie can't imagine how overwhelming that actually feels, come to think of it.

Kon just stutters out the quietest sound she thinks she's ever heard him make. It sounds like a sob, almost.

He doesn't say "friction", though. Doesn't even say "yellow".

He doesn't do anything at all, except keep himself in Bart's arms and keep letting Bart use him.

Cassie is never, ever going to remember what she and Tim were doing.

"That's a lot, yeah," she manages. Bart's the best at doing scenes, really, but he's played a lot of games and thinks very fast and has very little sense of self-consciousness, so no surprise there. But Tim is a Bat-trained–and Pennyworth-trained–natural liar, so he's no slouch either. Cassie usually feels a little awkward getting into a scene herself, especially compared to those two's respective experience and Kon's own eternal teen-idol levels of putting on a show and commitment to literally any bit, but right now, she could not care less about "awkward". She just wants to see Kon get taken apart.

She wants to help take Kon apart.

#core four #young just us #young justice #cassie sandsmark #tim drake #bart allen #kon el #conner kent #wonder girl #dc robin #dc impulse #superboy #not sfw #rinfic #wip: the core four gangs up on kon's objectification kink

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