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#justice for spinning out
locallepidoptera · 10 months
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We’ll rebirth. Second earth. I’m awakened. Their forsaken. Meant to be. Don't you see. I guarantee. Please believe me.
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visceravalentines · 28 days
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this is a post scribbled angrily in glitter pen in my diary pls ignore <3
#this is so insecure and bullshit but like#sometimes writing fics is. no fun#bc you feel like you can't keep up with other writers just churning out fics and they're all so good and nuanced and better than yours#or bc you can't keep up with your own brain and all the ideas and you don't have the time to do them all justice#or bc you just can't get a spark of a conversation with other fans to catch fire the way you want to so you're just.#spinning wheels in your own head wishing you were better faster friendlier less alone#and let's not forget the fucking commodification of fandom#getting messages in your inbox only to find it's people harping for more content for a fandom on the back burner or a fic you've left behin#i love that you love my work like that but. it makes me feel like i'm at a family reunion and my aunt is asking me about the job i had#two jobs ago#and somehow you keep getting those messages even tho your current work is sparse on comments and reblogs#so you spend your slivers of free time writing something you hope is good for these characters you love only to feel like you're standing#alone in the street hawking a mediocre finished product and everyone is walking past you disinterested#it's fucking isolating. it's draining#you can only write “for yourself” so much before it's not worth the time and effort#obviously i will keep writing. but like. it's fucking frustrating. and i feel like a petulant child about it but i just can't shake it#anyway. here's wonderwall or whatever
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darken-hollow · 1 month
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Should have the first chapter of this Adam and the batfam crossover shit done either today or tommorow yippie!
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valleydean · 1 year
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stressing because i just wrote one of the sexiest fighting combos of my career for my boxing au and there is no way i can use the limited english language to translate how cool and sick and epic it looks in real life
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novadreii · 2 years
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Honestly the only remake I'd gladly pay money to see right now would be Twilight. The whole thing. Twist: ALL of it directed by Catherine Hardwicke. Soundtrack is 95% Muse with Iron & Wine thrown in for sappy moments. Casting? Honestly? Kristen Stewart has to come back as Bella, nobody else works for her lmao. Everyone else? Shuffle. There's a permanent blue filter and cloud cover. The camera angles are tight and disorienting the entire time. Jacob is played by someone who can maybe actually act and animate his expressions without scrunching up his face like he's shitting?
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herbofgraceandpeace · 15 days
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NOT the Abraham v. God over Sodom and Gomorrah reference, this book is KILLING me
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uzurakis · 20 days
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can u do how jjk boys (include megumi PLEASE) would react to you getting all pretty and dolled up to go out (and u just look soooooooooo good)
TOO PRETTY TO BE TRUE!
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featuring: fushiguro megumi. gojo satoru. geto suguru. nanami kento. itadori yuuji.
n. your wish is my command nonnie, and ya don’t need to say megs cause i’ll ALWAYS include him in every shit that i write (he comes in one package okay) and.. I WENT OVERBOARD WRITING THIS HELPLEP i usually limit to 4 charas every post but yours made my creative space going and I HAD TO DO 5.. so thank you for that. i looooveee the idea mwah mwah i hope the writing makes justice for your cute hc <3
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FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. you were running late; a girl's usual problem before a date. your hands fumbled with the clasp of your earrings, and shit, you cursed softly under your breath. outside, you knew your boyfriend was waiting patiently, or so you hoped. the idea of keeping him waiting made you anxious, but you wanted everything to be perfect.
just as you finished adjusting your hair, you heard the front door creak open. fushiguro’s soft footsteps echoed through the hallway, and you felt a twinge of panic. he never liked to intrude, but his curiosity had gotten the best of him. "hey, what’s taking so long?" you heard him mutter.
you turned around just as he reached the doorway to your room. his eyes widened, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. fushiguro's usual stoic expression melted into one of pure surprise. his cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink, and his mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.
"is everything okay?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the sudden flutter in your chest.
megumi blinked, finally finding his voice. "a-ah, yeah, everything’s fine," his eyes remained locked on the ground while he stammered. how in the hell did this place get so hot? he thought to himself as he fiddled with his shirt collar.
"you look… um, really pretty."
"no, i mean, don't get me wrong though! you're al-"
you blushed at his earnestness, but you also smiled. "you too, gumi."
the guy scratched the back of his neck awkwardly but managed a small smile in return. "sorry i kinda barged in,” gently, he reached his hand to you and said, “next time, take all the time you need. i’ll wait.”
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GOJO SATORU. "well, well, look at you," someone called out, sauntering over with an exaggerated attitude. "you really went all out for our little date, huh?"
you couldn't help but smile as you rolled your eyes. "aand you didn't even bother to dress up," you teased back, gesturing to his usual attire. “so lame for the gojo satoru, boo-hoo.”
"why would i need to dress up when i have the most gorgeous person in the world right here?" the guy stepped closer, taking your hand and spinning you around playfully. "you look soo good, i kind of want to take you home right now. can’t have everyone else stealing glances at my date."
a giggle managed to escape your lips, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "you're ridiculous, toru," shaking your head at him.
then he leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, one that could captivate a soul. "but seriously, you look amazing. i'm the luckiest guy here."
you swatted at his arm playfully, but your heart swelled from his words. "alright, mr. smooth talker, where are we going?"
gojo straightened up, still holding your hand. "anywhere you want, as long as i get to show you off. but maybe we’ll head home a bit early, just in case," and of course, he didn’t forget to wink.
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ITADORI YUUJI. a knock on your door sent a jolt of excitement through you. you had taken extra time to get ready for your date with itadori tonight in the hopes of surprising him. he was standing there with an enormous smile on his face as you opened the door.
“bless me!” his pink eyes widened with admiration. “you look beautiful as always, baby.”
your cheeks heated beneath his surprising compliment. "nah, baby, that’s too much."
his enthusiasm contagious, he practically bounced on his toes. “i’m serious! you’re soo pretty that i might die from your prettiness��is that an actual word—but look at me, i'm serious!”
as you stepped outside, itadori kept showering you with compliments. "that outfit is perfect on you. and your hair! you’re always cute, but.. you really shine tonight."
“you’re too sweet, yuu,”
"i mean it! you deserve to hear it every day baby!”
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NANAMI KENTO. you were putting the finishing touches on your makeup when you heard a firm knock at the door. taking a deep breath, you walked over and opened it to find nanami standing there, his usual composed demeanor softened by a warm smile.
his eyes swept over you, taking in every detail. "you look beautiful, sweetheart." he said simply, sincere and direct. the compliment made your heart skip a beat.
"thank you, kento," goddamn, a gentleman is always a gentleman.
he stepped closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "i appreciate the effort you put into this. it means a lot to me." his smile widened just a fraction, but the warmth in his eyes spoke more than his words could.
you smiled back, touched by his straightforwardness. "it’s because i’m excited to spend time with you."
nanami nodded, offering his hand. "shall we go?"
you sensed serenity and joy as soon as you held his hand. "i’m glad you liked it," you said softly as you both made your way down the street.
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GETO SUGURU. “fucking hell, you look so pretty,” he swore under his breath, emerald orbs wide as he took in your appearance. “too pretty to be true.”
“hmm, you think so, suguru?” a little teasing might not hurt, right? his usually calm and composed expression shifting to one of pure astonishment the moment he saw you. and there it is again, his usual up-to-no-good grin.
he stepped closer, his gaze intense and cocky with that smile of his. “oh, you’re mine,” he declared, voice firm yet filled with a protective tenderness. “definitely mine.”
your heart skipped a beat at his sudden possessiveness, yet you couldn't help but feel a rush of delight at his words. “i’m yours,” you confirmed softly, tippy toeing to peck his cheeks.
he pulled your waist gently into his hook, grip both protective and warm. “i just… i don’t want anyone else looking at you like this,” the words were murmured, his lips brushing against your hair. “you’re too beautiful.”
you leaned into him, feeling safe and cherished in his embrace. “i only want you to look at me like this, suguru.”
he smiled, a rare and genuine expression that lit up his face. “good. because i’m not letting you go.” he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes. “let’s go, princess."
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@uzurakis
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azel98 · 1 year
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@docgold13 Cyclone Spins Out !
I Think Maxine Might Loses Her Spinning Powers For the First Time !
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pathologicalreid · 2 months
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could you write fem!BAU!reader x spencer, where reader finds out she’s pregnant while they’re on a case, like maybe she takes a test when she’s at the hotel and spencer hasn’t come back yet
(lack of) convenience | S.R.
who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader category: fluff content warnings: pregnancy, nausea, vomiting, spencer reid is unfortunately perfect. vertigo. fun pregnancy symptoms. word count: 2.04k a/n: and so, the spencer reid dilf agenda continues. this is my legacy.
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It came over you just after Spencer and Rossi had left to investigate a lead. This case was going nowhere fast, and the morale in the FBI field office clearly displayed it. “Are you alright?” JJ asked from right next to you, blonde hair curtaining around her face.
You nodded tightly, enough to show the newly minted profiler that you were, in fact, not alright. Nonetheless, you were motivated to push through. People were being murdered, you could brave a little vertigo to bring their killer to justice, right?
“Hey, you look a little pale,” Emily said, walking into the conference room with Hotch trailing close behind her. “Are you feeling okay?”
Rolling your eyes dramatically, you huffed at both of your coworkers. “I’m fine,” you insisted while your head was spinning. You lowered yourself down into an office chair, hoping that being sedentary would prevent your dinner from coming up.
Emily looked over at Hotch before saying, “Maybe you should head back to the hotel, it’s been a long day for all of us.”
Furrowing your brow, you frowned at your colleague. “I’ll make it through, we have work to do,” you insisted, flipping open a file as your stomach churned.
“You’re no help to anyone if you’re sick,” Hotch told you authoritatively, and you knew from his tone that he was going to send you back to the hotel. “Get some rest, we’ll start taking breaks in shifts,” he instructed, turning back to the evidence board.
It didn’t feel like shifts, especially considering you were the only one being cast off. You mumbled an acknowledgment while you stuffed your things in your bag. JJ offered to drive you, so the two of you exited the field office.
The two of you spent most of the ride in silence, just the fuzz of the SUV’s radio as background noise while you tried not to hurl in the government vehicle.
Once you were in the hotel parking lot, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to get your bearings before heading inside. “You know, I used to get sick in the evening when I was pregnant with Henry,” she said offhandedly.
It felt like a pointed comment, even if she didn’t mean it like that. You started fishing in your pocket for your room card, “But I’m not pregnant.”
“Are things good with you and Spencer?” She asked, looking for details on your relationship like an older sister. JJ killed the engine before turning to face you.
Sighing, you looked at her, “Things are great with Spencer.” You wanted to scold her for prying, but you knew it was an occupational hazard. It had been seven months, and all you had been telling anyone was “great” or “nice.”
The both of you knew that the more details you gave them, the more they’d want to pry. Penelope especially. “You know he wants kids, right?” She pushed.
You frowned at her, “Jennifer.” She put her hands up in surrender as you hauled yourself out of the SUV, “I just want to go to sleep, I feel awful.” That much was true, as you stood up outside the car, your stomach started to roil again.
“I’ll check in on you later,” she said, recognizing that she had begun to pry. “Let me know if you need anything,” she urged you, the mom in her coming into play.
Nodding, you shut the door before poking your head in the open window, “Thanks, JJ.” You said, turning around and walking to your hotel room.
Luckily, the team was already checked in, so you didn’t need to waste time trying to explain the whole ‘I’m an FBI agent’ thing to the front desk. Once you got into your room, you immediately dropped to your knees in front of the toilet, eyes burning as you upchucked into the toilet.
While you were digging through your go-bag for your toothbrush, you found yourself thinking about what JJ had said to you in the car. You couldn’t be pregnant. Well, you supposed you very well could be pregnant.
Sighing, you returned to the bathroom and started brushing your teeth, having needed to take the toothpaste out of Spencer’s bag. You made a mental note to buy more for your bag – you had been using his for the last four cases.
You silently cursed JJ for planting the thought of a baby in your head as you stared out the hotel window to a convenience store on the corner. At the very least, you could get some saltines and a Gatorade. At the very most, you could get a test.
Begrudgingly, you changed into more comfortable clothes and walked across the street to the convenience store. Grabbing a sleeve of crackers and a drink before stopping in the family planning section.
Why were there so many options?
Not wanting to draw any attention to yourself, you grabbed a digital test off of the shelf and tossed it into your basket. Your shoes squeaked on the linoleum floors as you elected to use the self-checkout, not needing to provide anyone with a front seat to your misery.
Other than the nausea, your trip back to the hotel was uneventful, and thankfully it didn’t look like anyone else on the team had made the trip to your lodging.
After you took the test, you set a timer on your phone, tossing it onto the bed before you sat on the edge of the mattress, sitting on your freshly washed hands. The timer scared you when it went off, not expecting the two minutes to go by so quickly before you returned to the bathroom.
Flipping the test over, the wind was knocked out of you as you read the results.
Yes +
You didn’t know how long you had stared at the test, but the sound of the lock on your door engaging pulled you out of your stupor. Thankfully, you had done the latch on the door, so you had a few extra minutes to toss the test in your go-bag before you went up to the door and let Spencer in.
“Hey, love,” he greeted you, dropping a kiss on your forehead. “How are you feeling?” He asked caringly, someone must’ve told him you weren’t well. You hoped that was all they had told him.
Humming, you leaned into his touch for a moment before he herded you to the bed. “A bit better, but not much,” you were slightly less nauseous now, possibly because there was nothing left in your stomach. There was a dull ache in your chest though, likely a result of the information you were now aware of.
He hooked a finger under your chin and studied your features for a moment, “Were you crying?” He whispered with concern-filled eyes.
You shook your head, “I threw up.” You informed him, the lack of oxygen had caused your eyes to water – similar to a yawn. Meanwhile, your head was spinning as the words balanced precariously on your tongue, I’m pregnant.
Spencer pouted sympathetically, smoothing your hair away from your face before he felt your forehead, checking for a fever. “I’m going to take a shower,” he announced softly, “do you need anything?”
Pathetically, you gestured over to your Gatorade and saltines, silently letting him know that you were all good for the night. It was only about eight in the evening, but you were exhausted. Letting your head flop onto the pillows, you sighed before shutting your eyes.
“Hey, Y/N,” Spencer spoke up in an unfamiliar tone. “What is this?”
Crinkling your nose in frustration, you propped yourself up on your elbows, looking over at Spencer as he held up your test. Your positive pregnancy test. “Would you believe me if I told you it wasn’t mine?” Clearly, in your panic to hide the test, you had tossed the blue stick in Spencer’s bag. Your subconscious must’ve recalled that you had gotten the toothpaste out of that bag, so you thought it was yours.
Any confusion fell from his face, and in that instant, he knew exactly what was going on. “You’re pregnant?”
You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, you couldn’t tell how he was feeling. “I-“ you swallowed thickly, the roiling in your stomach picking back up again. “Yes,” you answered in a small voice.
“When were you going to tell me?” He asked, there was no accusation in his voice, just pure curiosity and wonder. When you stayed silent, his eyes narrowed, “You were going to tell me, weren’t you?” He said, his volume raising from a whisper to a normal speaking level.
Pulling yourself up into a sitting position, you protectively crossed your arms in front of your stomach. “Oh my god, yes, I was going to tell you,” you clarified quickly. He didn’t seriously think you were going to hide this from him, did he?
He shook his head in confusion, “Then why hide it, angel?”
Shrugging, you thumbed the soft fabric of your sweatshirt, “I wanted time to think about it.” The admission hung in the thick tension of the hotel room.
“Okay,” he said slowly, walking over and sitting across from you on the mattress. It was clear to you that he was dealing with this situation delicately. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you about this, but I excel in thinking,” he told you.
His implications were clear to you, he wanted you to talk it out with him. “I want kids, you know I want kids. I know you want kids,” you blurted. It was something you had talked about early on in your relationship. Spencer had been very upfront with you about wanting children, he told you he needed to be with someone who also wanted that.
Spencer tilted his head to the side, “but?” He said gently, taking both of your hands in his, holding on to you.
“It’s too soon,” you whispered, feeling vulnerable on the bed with him.
He smiled at you softly, “Have I ever told you about the first time I knew that I was in love with you?”
The question left you understandably confused, “What?” You breathed, silently pleading for clarification.
Spencer nodded, “We were on a case in North Dakota, and there was this little girl who had just lost both of her parents.” The case did sound familiar, the more brutal ones involving children tended to stick with you. “We were waiting for a social worker to come stay with her, but they were stuck in a snowbank across town. Instead of working on the case, you sat down with her and taught her how to play cat’s cradle.” His voice was soft, almost placating you.
You hadn’t even realized you were crying until tears fell onto your intertwined hands, “Spence, that was years ago.”
“Two years, nine months, and thirteen days ago. I fell in love with you while watching you put a smile on her face despite the fact that it was the worst day of her life,” he said, skimming the pads of his thumbs over the backs of your hands. “I fell in love with your ability to make people feel good when the world is against them,” he murmured.
Taking a shaky breath, you looked up at him through bleary eyes, “What if we can’t protect them?”
Gathering you in his arms, Spencer let you tuck your face in the crook of his neck, “I’ll do whatever you want, Y/N. We can leave, I could be a professor and you could be a stay-at-home mom. If you want, I could stay with the BAU and you could stay home, or you can stay with the team, and I’ll stay home. Whatever you want, Y/N.”
Silently, you absorbed his words as you caught your breath, “I’m scared” you whispered.
“I know,” he murmured, “that’s okay. It’s okay to be scared.” He tightened his arms around you and rocked back and forth.
Allowing yourself to lean into him, you breathed him in, “You’re going to be such a good dad.”
He dropped a soft kiss on the crown of your head, “You’re already such a good mom.”
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sluts4matt · 3 months
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chris fucking the silent treatment out of you?! like hello?! need it rnnnnn
SILENT TREATMENT
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pairing: dom!chris x latina!reader
summary: you were known to be a bit petty, so giving your boyfriend the silent treatment wasn't out of your comfort zone. chis, however, decides he can't go more than a day without hearing your voice. no matter the way he's hearing it.
warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (female receiving), spanking, slight choking, praising, pet names
word count: 978
author's note: might honestly be one of my favorites. class project is all time at the moment though. i hope i did your request justice. don't be afraid to request more 🫶
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"really, we're still doing this shit ma?" chris asks, walking into his bathroom as you were doing your skin care. you looked at him, pressing your lips in a thin line before going back to your face. "oh c'mon, i apologized already."
you didn't respond, only continuing to lather your face with a cleanser. chris rolled his eyes, watching you through the mirror. you were supposed to have a small date, nothing too big. he promised since he had been busy recently.
but once again, he had to cancel because he was needed at the warehouse. it was a stupid reason not to be talking to chris. you knew that nick told you that last night. but you didn't care.
chris huffed, "so what, i can't do anything to get you to talk to me again?"
you put down the product in your hand, turning to look at him. chris' face brightened up, expecting a response. but fell again when you pushed past him to grab a rag from the rack.
he shook his head, "so you're gonna keep playing like this? not responding or looking at me." again, no answer. you were going to continue your routine as if he wasn't in the room with you.
"no fucking way," chris said, grabbing you by the wrist and spinning you around. "stop being a brat and talk to me ma, wanna hear that pretty fucking voice," he says, bringing your hand up to his mouth.
he places a kiss on your wrist, keeping his eyes on yours. you swallowed the lump in your throat, trying to remain unbothered. "really, no words?" he questions. you shake your head, moving your hand back.
"that's okay, i got ways to make you speak," he smirks. next thing you know you were being turned around, and your pajama pants and underwear were being tugged down. your heart dropped, and your legs were pressed together.
chris' hands gripped your hips, pushing you against the sink. "spread for me, ma," he says, slapping the inside of your thigh.
you did as you were told, biting your lip to silence yourself. his hands gripped your ass, kneading the flesh in his hands as he stood behind you. one of his hands worked at his sweats while the other pushed your cheek against the cool, marble counter top.
your ass was in the air, and chris was admiring the view. "i know you got a voice in there, so don't hold back on me baby," he says, lining his cock up to your pussy. the tip nudged your clit, causing you to shudder.
one of your arms goes near your mouth, you teeth latching onto the flesh as he pushes himself in, stretching you out. "shit, so fuckin' tight for me," chris grunts, bottoming out. his pelvis was pressed against your ass, his body was leaning over yours.
"don't even need lube for you, huh?" he chuckled mockingly, "always so fucking wet for me," he adds. his hand reaches for your hair, fisting it before yanking your head up.
you gasp at the pain, feeling his tip push further into you. "now, let me hear that voice," he growls, pulling out and slamming back into you. you shake your head the best you can as you bite down on your lips. the familiar metallic taste filling your senses.
"so, that's how it's gonna be," chris chuckles, "okay." his hips begin to pick up the pace, his other hand digging into the skin of your left leg as he lifts it onto the counter. the new angle having him hit a different part of you that hasn't been hit before.
a muffled moan slips through, but chris still caught it. "there she is," he grins, pulling your hair more as his hips slap against your ass. the lewd sound of his hips meeting yours along with the squelch of your pussy fills the room.
his hand that was holding your leg leaves, landing a hard slap on your ass. the sudden sting made you cry out. "sound so pretty," chris praised, "let me hear it all, ma."
with a nod of your head, he begins to pound into you, making your head bounce as he slams his cock into you. your eyes begin to water, the pleasure and pain mixing together. "fuck, fuck so good," you babble, feeling the familiar coil in your stomach.
chris chuckles, "look so pretty, taking my cock like this. think you can take it harder baby?" he asks, and you quickly nod. his grip on your hair loosens, and his other hand grabs your shoulder as his hips begin to snap against yours harder than before.
tears streamed down your cheeks as you cried out, nothing but loud whines and pornographic moans leaving your lips. his grip was sure to leave bruises, and your scalp was throbbing.
the coil was becoming too much, and you felt yourself coming undone. "c-chris," you cry, "i'm cumming, shit i'm cumming." the words left your lips in a babble, your cunt clenching around him. "cum on my dick, baby. fuck yes," he grunts, his hips never faltering.
your body went limp in his hold, you eyes rolling back as your mouth fell open. he fucked you through the orgasm, his own not far behind. a few more thrusts and he was pulling out, stroking his dick as he released on your ass.
your knees buckled, but his arm held you up. "gonna talk to me now, ma?" he breathed, his chest heaving as the two of you caught your breath. you nodded your head, a smile tugging on your lips.
"good, let's go get you cleaned up," he says, spinning around and lifting you up. you wrapped your legs around his waist, your head resting on his shoulder as he carried you to the shower.
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tag list:
@hysteria-things @tillies33ssss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @sturniolossss @freshsturns @lily-strnlo @etvar12 @iloveurgf @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloa @chrryclouds @sturniolho @mayhem-72 @nicksmainbitch @sturniolowhore
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schrijverr · 6 months
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We’re Adopted?!?
When Bruce’s kids end up on the Watchtower due to a set of unforeseen circumstances, Jason first tries to get the League to believe that they’re all biologically related to Bruce. He tries to avoid having Jason give everyone a sex talk by reminding him that he’s adopted. This leads to all his kids pretending that this is the first time they’ve heard of it, much to the horror of the League and the exasperation of Bruce.
Based on this post.
On AO3.
Ships: none
Warnings: none
~~~~
It finally happened. After years of successfully keeping the League from finding out about all the kids he has, they’ve finally met. And in the most dramatic way too. In a way it’s very suited for their family, but that is a detail Bruce had hoped to keep from the League.
However, it happens anyway and now his two teams have met.
They’re sitting in the common area of the Watchtower when the Zeta-Tube suddenly whirs to life and the Batmobile comes crashing into the area. It spins to a stop as if it had been in the middle of a chase, before the teleporter snatched them off the streets.
Bruce gets out of his chair and makes his way over. He isn’t too worried about them, since they’re here and while that might have meant danger before, they are safe with him now. If one of them had been terribly injured or left behind, they would be screaming and yelling already and that isn’t happening yet.
His eyes meet Tim’s, who is standing next to the car, his costume a little singed, hair askew and looking a little worse for wear. Apologetically he greets: “Hi, Justice League, promise we have a good reason to be here.”
For Bruce, this is quite normal chaos and these are his kids, but he notices that the Justice League has formed a defensive barrier around the Batmobile. They perceive his kids as a threat. It’s so absurd that he is quiet for a moment.
In that moment, Superman steps forward and demands to know: “Who are you and how did you get up here?”
“With a car no less,” Hal adds, sounding a little impressed, which doesn’t make Bruce smug in the slightest, no sir.
He is about to tell everyone to stand down when the doors of the car open and his kids come spilling out. It’s a bit of a car clown moment with how many vigilantes fit inside.
Dick nearly falls out of the side, with Damian following after him. Both of them have soot in their hair and scratches on their faces.
A singed Jason stumbling out on the other side as he loudly complains: “This is the last time we’re letting Spoiler drive.”
Steph’s costume is a little flame tattered too as she swings open the driving side and says: “I’d like to see you do better, asshole. At least it wasn’t like Signal’s first driving attempt.”
“Hey,” Duke exclaims, coming out of the car after Jason, looking a little banged up. “Just because I didn’t know where the missiles were, doesn’t mean it was terrible.”
“I didn’t eject anyone,” Steph pouts.
“Yes, you did!” Duke exclaims. “You very much did.”
“Well, not by accident,” Steph argues. “It was part of the plan.”
The other front door is now open and Cass is next to him. He puts an arm around her and pulls her into his cape. Then he decides to step in, because it seems the League doesn’t know what to do when they’re not viewed as an authority.
“What happened?” he asks.
Six heads snap his way, as if his kids had forgotten where they were. It wouldn’t be the first time, so he doesn’t even bother rolling his eyes.
Tim reports: “The Riddler broke out of Arkham, along with like a bunch of b-rate villains. They caused havoc, but we rounded them all up. Riddler took the time it took us to round them up to set up his trap. He went with a fire theme.”
“Is he contained now?” Bruce asks, a little concerned.
“Yeah, no problem, B, we got ‘em,” Steph assures him casually with a thumbs up.
“Sorry, uhm, excuse me, Batman, do you know these people?” Clark asks in that awkward, polite way of his.
Bruce contemplates for a second what he should answer. Then decides that he wants to know what happened and doesn’t want to deal with questions. So he just says: “My associates. Now report, how did you end up here?”
“Associates,” Jason snorts.
However, he is ignored by his siblings as Damian reports: “We have caught the Riddler, however we did so without solving the last of his riddles. So, he sprang his trap after we took him down and we became the target of some missiles.”
“Oh my god, are you okay?” one of the League members exclaims under their breath.
“Tt, of course we’re okay,” Damian spits back. “Unlike you, we have been trained.”
“And we learned our lesson; always solve all of Riddler’s riddles,” Steph grins, giving them all a thumbs up.
“I already said that, but who listens to Red Robin? Nobody,” Tim complains.
Before it can turn into a squabble fest again, Bruce clears his throat and Dick jumps in to get them back on track, explaining: “We tried to get away in the Batmobile, but we couldn’t outrun it forever. So we decided the best way to escape was to use the Zeta-Tube connection.”
“It was great, Spoiler sent replacement flying so he could put in the code,” Jason laughs.
“I wanted to beam us to the Cave, but with the amount of time we had, just taking us to the most recently used coordinates was smarter,” Tim explains. He checks his arm computer then says: “The chatter on the police coms is that the missile made impact where we disappeared. No one was in the area when it went off, but there is property damage. And a few of the new recruits are convinced we’re supernatural, since none of our remains are being found.”
That last bit gets a few laughs from the assembled vigilantes. Most of Gotham PD have resigned themselves to the fact that the protectors of Gotham are humans, who seemingly pull of the impossible from time to time.
However, there are always newer members, who come up with great conspiracies about how they aren’t human and that’s why they pull it off. Bruce knows that it’s a bit of a game between his kids to see who can get them to believe the weirdest shit about them.
So, he just lets them have the moment of amusement after what must have been a highly tense moment.
Then he asks: “Where is Bluebird?” since he hasn’t seen Harper among the crowd, which is weird, because she’s on the night shift, while Duke is on the day shift.
“She the one, who figured out where Riddler was and caught him,” Dick says proudly. “She was escorting him to Arkham when she noticed he was being off. Without her we would’ve never made it to the Batmobile on time.”
Bruce makes a mental note to thank her for saving his other kids when he sees her.
“We also let Oracle know we’re okay, so she can inform her and Batwoman when she gets back from her mission, just in case she saw the news,” Dick goes on.
“Wait,” they get interrupted by Hal. “How many more heroes are you going to pull out of your sleeve? What happened to Mr. I Work alone? Am I being crazy here? Why are you all just standing there?”
Clark says: “Well, it’s obvious Batman knows these people and they do not seem like a threat to us, so I was going to wait until they’d given a report before demanding answers.”
“And we will demand answers, Batman,” Diana adds, making Bruce swallow a little. “We are your friends, we hoped there would be some trust there. You seem to have a whole different team of warriors. That is something you share.”
“Don’t mind, B, he just comes with permanently built in paranoia, it’s nothing against you,” Dick tells them.
In the background, Jason snorts: “Did you hear that guys? We’re his team of warriors. His associates.”
Damian huffs at that: “These imbeciles obviously do not know what they are on about and I refuse to be referred to as such, when I am the blood son.”
“I don’t know, Robin,” Steph laughs. “It almost starts to feel like he cares. I mean, he obviously has been bragging about us.”
“He has not spoken a word about us,” Damian exclaims.
In the background, Bruce can feel a headache coming. He has tried to keep his kids away from the League for their own safety. They can’t use his kids against him, should they become compromised, if they don’t know they exist.
However, they do know now and not only that, it seems like his kids are here to cause trouble on purpose now that they finally get to meet, who they refer to as, ‘his work friends AKA the only friends he has’. Delightful.
Indeed, the League has picked up on the words Jason set Damian up for, because Hal repeats: “Blood son?”
And Clark frowns: “They do seem quite young.”
“Batman, are you employing babes to protect Gotham with you?” Diana exclaims in horror.
“I am highly trained, who dares to call me a baby,” Damian protests immediately and while his siblings would usually laugh at him, they now also feel offended.
All of them have had to defend their age to people, including Bruce. They don’t like being questioned. So all of them are falling over themselves to defend their position as protectors of Gotham.
Bruce decides to help them, explaining: “There are more teen heroes, most of you have or had a sidekick. These vigilantes keep each other safe, they have the safety of back up and I also provide good gear. They’re not running around without a clue of what to do.”
“Ahww, I knew you cared, old man,” Steph coos, while Cass taps a genuine thank you in Morse code on his arm.
“Batman, I appreciate that you look out of them, but most sidekicks have had superpowers that are related to one of the heroes and sought out a mentor to help,” Clark says gently. “You have no powers, where did you get these kids?”
And in hindsight, he should have known better than to hesitate. However, at the times, he does, because the circus, the streets, the neighbor’s and some villains, are not really good answers to that question, no matter how true. And he doesn’t know if he wants to explain.
Still, he has to admit that he melts slightly when Cass speaks up to say: “His kids.”
Plus, it’s kind of funny how most League member jump out of their skin at the sudden voice, since none of them had spotted Cass before. Not even those with superhuman senses. His daughter is so talented.
Arguably the funniest reaction is Hal, who shrieks: “Where the fuck did you get these kids, Spooky!” as he violently startles backwards.
However, Jason jumps on the opportunity, sending Bruce a shit eating grin before he does (he might still be wearing the helmet, but Bruce knows him). He says: “Well, when two people love each other very much, they-”
No, just no. Absolutely not.
The League already thinks him to be a bit of a weirdo, who is steeped in paranoia. They respect him, but they’re always a little wary of him too (which is good in a way, he doesn’t want them close to his secret identity with the threat they could pose). Still, he doesn’t want them to think he practically bred an army of shadow-y vigilantes to protect Gotham. He’d never live it down.
“Hood,” he quickly cuts Jason off, before he can continue with his nonsense. Then he tiredly reminds him: “You’re adopted.”
“WHAT!” Jason shrieks, ripping his helmet off to reveal a shocked and betrayed face even with his domino mask. “How could you keep that from me?”
It seems like everyone needs a second to recover and process after the outburst. However, Jason is gaining steam and dramatically barrels on: “For years. Years! I lived with you, you fed me, you cared for me. You are my dad. At least you were. Was that all a lie? Some ruse? How- Why- I deserved to know.”
Bruce is shocked, unable to form words. His relationship with Jason has been rough, though getting better. It’s still tentative, though, so to hear Jason refer to him as dad throws him off in one of the best ways. Until he realizes Jason is fucking with him.
Even then, it is kind of nice that Jason is messing with him. When he looks, he sees that Jason is having fun under the mask of betrayal. It doesn’t have a bitter undertone, like it would have a few months ago. Instead, it feels a little like all the times Jason messed with him in front of Commissioner Gordon, back when he was Robin.
So, later Bruce will cut himself some slack for basking in that feeling for long enough that the others catch on and join in.
It starts with Steph, who has never claimed him as her father a day in his life, but will always be committed to a bit. She sniffles: “I can’t believe you’d lie to our brother like that. Soon you’ll tell us we’re all adopted.”
“Spoiler,” Bruce warns, hoping to deter anyone else from joining in.
That doesn’t happen, instead, Dick pulls Duke into a hug and exclaims: “Yeah, next you’ll tell us Signal here isn’t our half brother, like you didn’t leave his mother at the altar.” He narrows his eyes and adds: “I was the flower boy too, I can’t believe you did that to her.”
He sees Duke’s calculating gaze, flitting between Dick and himself and knows it’s only a matter of time before he picks a side, so he grunts: “Signal, don’t-”
“She talked about it until her death. Don’t tell me she made it up,” Duke suddenly says, picking the side of his siblings. Bruce would be more glad about him getting along with them, if it weren’t for the fact that in joining him, he left Bruce.
“You monster,” Jason butts back in again, not having had the spotlight in too long. “Look what you’ve done. You can’t just drop something like that on us. You can’t just pull the rug out from under us. Adopted. Or am I the only one? Huh? Is that it? Are all of them your real kids except for me?”
It’s a little too close to home, so Bruce stumbles: “No, of course, you’re always my kid. But this isn’t news to you. To any of you.”
“So we are all adopted?” Tim shrieks, stumbling forwards to clutch Bruce’s arm. “Those people you took me away from, were they my real parents? Did you lie to me?”
And this is just unfair. They’re not allowed to gang up on him like this and be dramatic. They know he doesn’t know what to do when they get like this. He gave them a home, he kept them as safe as he could, he loves them. What has he done to deserve this?
Dick and Duke are still embracing each other and Bruce is pretty sure Dick is weeping. Steph is definitely fake crying, while Jason is consoling her. Tim is still clutching his one arm, babbling about being taken from his parents.
Cass is his favorite right now, because she isn’t playing along with her sibling, just quietly huddling into his side. Damian would share the spot, but Bruce knows that the only reason he isn’t playing along, is because he doesn’t know what their game is and how he can use it to his advantage.
Indeed, he joins in – though not entirely purposefully – because he asks: “Father, I am your true son right? I am the blood son, not these imbeciles.”
Jason is definitely hiding a snort as a sob and in that moment, Bruce is tempted to disown Damian, just so he doesn’t have to deal with all this.
He can see how shocked the Justice League is, their eyes wide with horror, none of them having truly recovered at the sudden appearance at a gaggle of kids, who are now seemingly breaking down over the surprise news of being adopted.
He should’ve just let Jason give the League a sex talk.
So, he is tempted to not recognize Damian as his own, however, he knows how much Damian values his heritage and how insecure he is about his spot in the family. And he does look genuinely worried about what’s happening. So, Bruce has to sigh and reward the vulnerability that he shows with compassion, saying: “Yes, Robin.”
Jason lets out a pained groan and says: “So it is true? We really are adopted?” then breaks down crying. It’s almost impressive how well he can sob on demand. How well all of them can, Bruce wonders when they learned that and who taught them that.
The League, meanwhile has also apparently reached their limits and Hal suddenly explodes: “Fucking hell, Bats. Is that how you’re telling them that? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Around him all the others start to nod in agreement and Bruce knows that some of those shaking shoulders of his kids aren’t sobs but laughter at this point. He wonders if it’s wrong to return any of them, despite knowing that he would never give any of them up, even with all the gray hairs they’re giving him.
He does think about it though, especially when Clark cautiously says: “It seems unnecessarily cruel, Batman. They’ve just been chased through the streets by missiles. You could have waited.”
“Yes, it is very cruel,” Diana agrees. “And I do not know you to be cruel.”
Usually, Bruce has an image to maintain, but that image includes him working alone and having no sense of humor or humanity, so obviously it’s incorrect. Besides, any reputation he might have had has just been ruined by his kids. He doesn’t have to take this judgment from his friends.
So, he throws his hands up and, bordering on a whine, says: “I’m not cruel. They all know they’re adopted. All of them were over nine when it happened. Hell, not even all of them are adopted. Not all of them wanted to be. They know! They’re just messing with me.”
It’s quiet after his outburst.
Both the League and his kids blink for a few times. It’s clear that the League doesn’t know what to believe, but his kids are luckily done with the chaos. Though, Bruce doesn’t know if he’s happy with that when he sees some of their faces morph into grins.
Dick decides to put him out of his misery first, letting go of Duke to skip forwards and sling an arm around Bruce, which he grudgingly allows. He never says no to hugs from his kids, no matter what stunt they’ve just pulled.
“He’s right,” Dick smiles at everyone. Then he jokingly tugs on one of the ears on his cowl – something he has done since his early days as Robin – as he teases: “He didn’t mind. Right, B? You are a softie under there.”
“Who cares if he minds,” Jason says loudly. “That was hilarious, did you see everyone’s faces when replacement told them he’d stolen him out of his home. Golden. I’m gonna ask O for that footage the second we get back.”
Now the League is looking at them with even more confusion. Unsure of what to do now.
Bruce wants to let them suffer, but he also doesn’t want to give his kids room to do something else to embarrass him. So, he takes the reigns saying: “Just to clear it all up; this is Nightwing, my oldest.”
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” Dick gives the League a bright smile.
“My second or third oldest – we’re not sure – Red Hood,” Bruce continues on, gesturing to Jason, who just gives them a salute. “And, again, the second or third oldest, Black Bat.” She waves at them, startling some again, since they’d forgotten she was there. Hm, they might have to do another stealth and awareness training day.
“This is Spoiler, she is not one of mine technically,” he continues on introducing everyone there.
Steph grins at all of them and says: “I eat his food and steal his money, but I’m not having him sign shit. All of the perks, none of the accountability.”
“And how you remind me of that,” Bruce sighs, before gesturing to Tim and saying: “This is Red Robin, my fourth kid. He is adopted, but also emancipated. And I did not steal him away from his parents.”
“Technically, he did, because they were kinda shitty, but only legally when they died,” Tim corrects, which is not necessary and Bruce will be answering questions about that for months. Judging by the smug look on his face, Tim knows.
Deciding not to engage for now, he moves on to Duke. “This is Signal, he is my ward. He normally works the day shift.”
“Hello,” Duke squeaks awkwardly.
“And this is Robin, he is the youngest,” Bruce finishes his introductions.
“I am the blood son of the Bat and the one true heir,” Damian exclaims proudly.
“Yeah, yeah, we know, brat,” Jason rolls his eyes. “You were once B’s sperm. Whoop-die-doo.”
Multiple faces contort at that, with Tim and Steph both exclaiming how gross that is and how he didn’t have to phrase it like that and how they never want to hear about Bruce’s sex life ever again in any way, shape, or form.
Hal comments: “Wait, you actually have a kid?”
Bruce fights the urge to facepalm as he deadpans: “Just a second ago, you were willing to believe I had seven or more, why do you seem surprised?”
That renders Hal speechless, which is good, because Bruce doesn’t want to be here anymore. He wants to check up properly on his kids, check up on Gotham, and be as far away from the League and their questions as he can.
So, he uses the silence to says: “Now, as interesting as this has all been, we are going home. I have a city to check on and kids to ground.”
All around him protests start up about how he either has no power over them and can’t ground them or that they’re too mature and well trained fro childish things such as grounding. But Bruce is great at tuning them out when needs must, so he types in the last of the Batcave coordinates and lets the Zeta-Tube take them home.
~~
A/N:
I love coming up with convoluted reasons of why the batfam would be in the Watchtower lmao
Also Alfred totally taught them to cry on command, knowing they would use it for evil <3
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radiance1 · 5 months
Text
inspired by this wonderful art made by @puppetmaster13u
So, Danny, cemented king and practically father of the Blob Ghosts and certified little shit.
Has found something new to play with.
For you see, despite his various kidnappings by the GIW Danny was never aware of there being a League of Earth's mightiest heroes at all. He off-handily mentioned them to Henry, who was now genuinely jobless because even though he never got told he knew he was jobless for helping Danny escape and Henry?
Henry did not want any part of this, he's just a civilian he doesn't want to meet the Justice League of all people!
Sadly, Danny did not care at all in the slightest.
Henry was then reminded of why Danny was valued by the GIW and why he also king class ghost entity (the only other known king class was the Ghost King who they barely have any information of). Because he easily, cleared the distance between Amity Park and Metropolis.
Henry, unfortunately, was not used to traveling at such speeds and was left hanging limply in Danny's arm as everything started spinning and thinking he might puke.
Danny, being the child that he is at heart, immediately starts calling out Superman's name. Superman, predictably and unsurprisingly, hears this and comes over questioning who was calling him.
Danny decides to be even more of a little shit by speaking in ghost speak even though just earlier he called out Superman's name in clear English. Henry, the de-facto translator, is out of commission right now so Superman is really just left guessing here.
Unless, you go with the fact that Kyrptonian is a dead language, and since Superman can speak and knows Kyrptonian, Danny's ghost speak is automatically translated to Kyrptonian.
Superman is, understandably, stumped by this occurrence and he may or may not form the idea that Danny might be a Kyrptonian.
Danny then gently places Henry down on the roof, pats him on the head, tells a few blob ghosts to keep an eye on their new littlest sibling while Dad has fun.
Then he turns to Superman, with the most feral, shit eating grin on his face. Cracks his knuckles, and then tells Superman that they're going to have a fight.
He wasn't asking, and before Superman could say anything he's already been punched through the air. Not that it hurt, really, mostly took him by surprise, but now Superman is now in a fight with what may or may not be a Kryptonian.
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corroded-hellfire · 6 months
Note
I am humbly requesting Eddie wearing a shirt that says “nerds make the best lovers” and then proving it to bookworm!Reader.
Your request is my command. I hope I have done your idea justice!
Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral f!receiving, slight choking, soft dom!eddie, public sex (kinda?)
Words: 2.2k
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Eddie struts into your first period English class with Ms. O’Donell, late as usual, and she doesn’t even glance away from the chalkboard she’s scribbling vocabulary words on to acknowledge his tardiness. On instinct, you smile at your boyfriend as he makes his way to his seat near you, but as your eyes scan over his shirt, heat blooms in your cheeks.
“Nerds Make the Best Lovers” his t-shirt claims in bold, gothic-style red lettering on the black tee. Eddie gives you a brazen wink and by the sound of all the snickering coming from students around you, you know other people have read the clothing’s pronouncement as well. Mortified, you bury your face in your hands, only peeking out to see if O’Donnell caught a glimpse of her least favorite student’s shirt. Luckily, O’Donnell gave up reading whatever shit his t-shirts said after her twentieth time or so sending Eddie to the front office for dress code violations. 
Eddie plops down in the seat next to yours and he shoots you another wink as if you hadn’t seen the first one he gave you when he walked in. Refusing to encourage any of this behavior, you don’t look your boyfriend’s way once the entirety of the class.
Once the period ends, however, Eddie won’t let you get away from him that easily. He jogs down the hallway to catch up with you and drapes a heavy arm over your shoulders.
“Where’s the fire, baby?” he asks. “Where ya headed in such a hurry?”
You shake your head in non-response and keep walking down the hallway, not sparing him a glance. Eventually, you come to a section of hallway that’s mostly emptied of people and you turn to face him, your shoes squeaking against the white linoleum floor beneath you at the tenacity of your spin.
“What is with that shirt, Eddie? Are you trying to embarrass me?”
“Embarrass you?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows. “Baby, I’m just stating a fact. Nerds do make the best lovers. And I’m more than happy to give you a reminder…”
He trails a finger up your arm, and it sends a thrilling shiver down your spine. Any irritation or annoyance instantly melts away at his touch. Your resistance was already futile but Eddie putting his hands on you always seems to shut off any coherent part of your brain.
“A reminder, huh?” you coo, ensnared by his flirtations. 
“That’s right. I’ll show just how good this nerd can make you feel.” 
You decide to hell with it; there’s nothing particularly important going on today. Nothing that you couldn’t afford to miss, anyway. And even if there was? Eddie’s body pressed up against yours is worth a detention or a missed test.
“Should we head out to your van for this demonstration?” you ask. The number of times his old, beat down van has been out in the school parking lot, rocking back and forth from the two of you, is too high to count. Most of the times being while school is still in session.
“No, I’ve got somewhere better in mind.” Eddie tugs you by the wrist, leading you down the hall in the opposite direction. He comes to a halt in front of a familiar door and pulls you into the drama room. It’s abandoned and quiet as Eddie locks the door behind you. There’s some D&D paraphernalia scattered around the room, a few D20s that were left out on the table.
“Hmm, so the ultimate symbolism of your nerdiness, huh?” You tease as you sit yourself down on his throne at the head of the table. The seat is cold beneath you, but you refuse to let it show. 
Eddie stalks over to stand before you and rests a hand on either arm rest of the throne. He lowers his head to meet your gaze with his own challenging one.
“I suppose you think I’m going to kick you out,” he says, referring to the seat. “Not today, my lady. Today…” he lowers himself down to his knees. “Today you just sit back and enjoy my throne while I make you feel good.”
He makes quick work of yanking your jeans and panties off and tosses them somewhere behind him. A strong hand grips each of your calves and spreads your legs wide open, Eddie wasting no time before he’s licking a stripe up your folds.
“Oh, fuck,” you whine, fingers digging into the sturdy arm rests at your sides. 
Eddie smirks against your pussy as he begins to flick his tongue against your clit. He knows every one of your little tells and knows just the right speeds and pressures to apply to your bundle of nerves to get you just where he wants you to go.
Your fingers scramble to find purchase on the chair as pleasure floods your body, so Eddie laces one of his hands with yours to ground you. His mouth keeps working against your pussy and you do your best not to grind your hips up to meet his tongue. It’s so tempting but you know it will only draw out Eddie’s teasing in the long run. 
With his free hand, Eddie delicately trails one ringed finger around your entrance, going round and round, never breaching it though. The delicious whines spilling from your lips only encourage him on.
“Shit, you taste so good, baby. God, I love your pussy,” he murmurs from between your legs.
“Eddie,” you whimper desperately, eager for him to use his fingers already. Being a nerd might not necessarily make him the best lover, but being a guitar player does make for a magical experience when he fingers you.
“Mm?” he hums against your core.
“N-Need your f-fing—holy shit, yes.”
Eddie knew what you needed before you even said it. The two of you work so well together, both mind and body, that you’re like separate pieces of the same machine, headed towards the same goal.
Two thick fingers stretch you out, at your request, as Eddie raises his head slightly to suck on your clit. He curls his fingers up and gently brushes over the spot that he knows makes you see stars. Your own fingers tighten on the arms of the throne and your legs tense around Eddie’s head.
“Shit! Fuck, fuck, I’m coming!”
Eddie smirks against your clit as he helps you ride it out, with both his fingers and mouth. He loves watching you as you come down from your high; all out of breath and dewy from a thin layer of sweat. 
The loss of his fingers as he slips them out of you is quickly made okay as you watch him pop them in his mouth as you try and catch your breath. His cocky facial expressions would annoy you if you weren’t feeling so amazing from his damn mouth.
Once he’s licked you from his fingers, he reaches down and fumbles with the handcuff buckle on his belt.
“Made you feel so good and didn’t even take my cock out yet.”
“Wipe that…smirk off your face.” You try to sound assertive, but it falls flat in your blissed out state.
Eddie chuckles and leans in, wrapping one hand around your throat; not tight enough to restrict air, just enough for you to feel the pressure.
“I don’t think you’re in a position to be making demands here, sweetheart,” he whispers in your ear. “Pretty sure you’d let me do whatever the hell I want to you right now, won’t you?” Both of you know the answer to that, but when you don’t give a verbal response, Eddie tightens his grip on your throat just slightly. “I said, won’t you?” he growls.
“Y-Yes,” you squeak out.
The sound pleases Eddie, and he smiles deviously as he releases your throat. He presses a sweet kiss to your cheek that’s a stark contrast to how he was just handling you.
“That’s what I thought,” he says, smugness clear in his tone.
He grabs your hands and yanks you up out of the throne. An involuntary yelp passes through your lips as he spins the two of you around and backs you up until your bare thighs bump into the table.
“Shirt off. Bra too,” Eddie orders.
You do as he says, Eddie’s eyes taking you in like the prey that you are to him with every move that you make.
Once you’re completely naked, Eddie presses his index finger right in the middle of your chest and gives just enough force for you to get the hint that he wants you to lie back.
The moment you get your ass on the table, large strong hands grab behind your knees and pull you towards the edge, so your back falls flat against the surface and your legs are able to wrap around your boyfriend’s lithe body. He pushes down his black jeans and boxers enough to line himself up with your entrance. But he doesn’t push in just yet.
“Say my fucking name, sweetheart,” he says as he leans over you.
“E-Eddie.”
“Louder. I want anyone walking by to know who’s in here making you feel so good.”
“Eddie!”
The man’s grip tightens on your legs and his cock just barely slips into you.
“I said louder. Are you going to be a good girl and listen to me or what?”
“Fuck, Eddie!”
He smirks in triumph at the way you scream his name.
“That’s my girl.”
He finally pushes inside of you, agonizingly slowly, his body towering over yours as he thrusts. Each time, he goes a little deeper, his eyes boring right into yours as he moves his hips. 
Your jaw drops open and small gasps escape your lips. You’re not sure what’s hotter: how Eddie’s pounding into you or how he’s staring into your eyes, not once breaking contact. 
Eddie groans as he finally bottoms out.
“Jesus Christ,” he swears. “Your pussy’s so fucking tight.”
No words whatsoever fill your mind as you lose yourself in the feeling of Eddie inside your walls. Your boyfriend notices this as well and another arrogant smirk grows on his lips while he stares down at you.
“Aw, already cock drunk, princess? Not a thought in that pretty little head of yours?”
You want so badly to refute it, but you don’t have the words to do so–only further proving his point.
The cool table feels nice against your back as your skin becomes sticky with sweat. Your hands slide from Eddie’s arms and your fingers grip the edge of the table.
Eddie notices the movement and doesn’t want you holding on to anything that isn’t him, though. His hands slide up your body and he grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head.
“Eddie,” you whine.
“Oh, she can speak,” Eddie coos.
“Eddie.”
“What is it, my love?”
“C-Close.”
Eddie holds both of your wrists in one hand while the other one snakes down and presses his thumb against your clit.
“Come on, baby,” Eddie goads. “Be my good girl and cum for me.”
“W-Want you to…with me,” you pant out between labored breaths. 
“Don’t worry,” Eddie says with a wry chuckle. “I’m right there with you.”
Eddie might be a complete menace sometimes, knowing exactly how to drive you crazy, but you know him just as well and know how to bring him to the brink. 
“I-Inside,” you pant. “Need you to cum inside me.”
“Jesus,” Eddie groans, squeezing his eyes closed and clenching his teeth as he tries to hold back.
“Please,” you beg.
“Well,” Eddie huffs with a laugh, “since you asked so nicely. Come on, princess. Let go.”
The twitch of Eddie inside of you and the feeling of him filling you up has you arching your back as sparks fly behind your eyelids and ecstasy radiates up your body.
“Eddie, yes.”
“Louder,” Eddie manages as he fucks his load into you.
“Eddie!”
The blissed out feeling from his orgasm and your shouting of his name puts a big, dopey grin on Eddie’s face.
“Shit, princess,” he says with a chuckle as he buries his head in your neck. You giggle as he presses kisses and nips at the skin there.
Eddie doesn’t make a move to get off of you, which you don’t mind one bit. You tangle your fingers in his frizzy locks and press kisses to the side of his head.
“So?” he eventually mumbles against your skin.
“So what?”
Eddie picks his head up and looks at you.
“Do nerds make the best lovers or what?” he asks, eyebrows waggling.
You can’t help but laugh as you nod your head in affirmation.
“Yes, Eddie. You have proven it to me.”
“Mmm, good,” he hums before he goes back to kissing your neck.
“What’re you doing?” you ask as the kisses become more and more intense.
He pulls back to look at you again.
“You really think the best lover is only going for one round?” He scoffs and goes back to kissing your neck.
“Thank God for nerds,” you mumble as your eyes slip closed.
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accidental eavesdropping (steddie ficlet)
based on this post by @imjust-that-shy. i hope i did this vision justice <3
The doors to the bathroom burst open, and - on some pure, inexplicable instinct and with nearly inhuman speed - Eddie darts back into the stall he'd just been about to come out of and leaps to perch on top of the toilet seat, crouched there like some sort of creature. 
He hears the sound of retching and the stench of vomit fills the air. He holds his breath, wrinkling his nose and trying to imagine what possible context could be behind Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley bursting in here together to puke their guts out. Eddie knows the two of them work together, he’s seen them sharing shifts at Scoops Ahoy when he's walked by. (Not that he often intentionally passes by the ice cream parlor and slows down just to catch a glimpse of Steve or anything… Although who could really blame him if he did? Like, come on, Steve in that uniform? Hello, sailor.) His mind is busy spinning stories of possible explanations, ranging from spoiled ice cream to sneaking alcohol and getting too drunk during their break. 
Eddie's leaning towards the 'drinking on the job' explanation, especially when the retching finally ceases and Robin says something about the room no longer spinning. Those little rebels, Eddie thinks approvingly.
“When’s the last time you, uh…peed your pants,” Steve is asking Robin now, in response to her telling him in a Russian accent to interrogate her. 
Eddie curls over his knees, tilting his head to try to peer through the gap between the stalls and the floor to put an image to his eavesdropping. Might as well, he’s kind of stuck here and there’s really not much else he can do right now. He can see Steve’s legs, one bent and the other stretched out in front of him, and Robin in the stall past him laying on the floor with her legs up against the stall wall as she answers, “Today…” 
“What?” Steve questions.
“When the Russian doctor took out the bone saw!” Robin says. 
Okay…what? Russian doctors and bone saws? Eddie’s now thoroughly intrigued, if a little (okay, a lot) confused. Maybe they’re talking about a movie they watched or something.
Steve’s legs shake with his laughter. “Oh my god.” 
“It was just a little bit, though.” Robin pinches her fingers together as she twists her body in Steve’s direction while he laughs again and mutters that whatever it is they took is still in her system. She pushes her feet off the stall and slides to sit against the opposite wall. Eddie can only see her legs now. “Okay, my turn. Have you…ever been in love?” 
Steve answers that he has, with Nancy, and makes a sound mimicking an explosion. Eddie remembers that, remembers seeing Steve and Nancy being all touchy and cute in the hallways at school while he was trying his damndest to convince himself that he absolutely definitely did not wish he was in Nancy’s place. It didn’t work very well. And it’s not working very well now either as Steve starts to go on about some new girl he likes now instead - some girl who’s funny and smart and can crack secret Russian codes (okay, seriously, what is it with these two and Russians?) and oh shit, he’s talking about Robin. 
Eddie very suddenly feels like he should not be here listening to this, eavesdropping on Steve confessing his feelings for someone. Not only is that, like, a private and personal thing, but also what if Robin likes him back and they start kissing or something right here in this bathroom where Eddie has to sit here and listen to it and that would just be horrible for him for so many reasons and- Eddie’s getting ahead of himself. Robin hasn’t even said anything yet, and her knees are pulled up to her chest and her voice shakes when she confirms she’s still alive after Steve asks if she’s OD’d there in the silence and she uncurls with a deep sigh. All signs that she doesn’t actually like Steve back. 
Eddie watches as Steve shifts and slides under the stall into Robin’s, and catches sight of the nasty bruise marring nearly half of Steve’s otherwise beautiful face as he does so. Now concern has been added to the list of emotions this eavesdropping experience has rollercoastered him through so far. The bruise looks fairly fresh and Eddie can’t help but wonder what the hell gave Steve a black eye like that and if he’s okay. 
After a brief spiral of concern for Steve’s face, Eddie tunes back into reality to find himself staring at Steve’s ass as Steve now sits with his back against the stall wall opposite Robin. Eddie blinks, expands his tunnel vision to include Steve’s lower back and Robin’s legs which are also visible beneath the gap in the stalls. 
“It’s not because I had a crush on you,” Robin is saying. “It’s because…she wouldn’t stop staring at you.”
“Mrs. Click?” Steve sounds confused.
“Tammy Thompson,” Robin clarifies. “I wanted her to look at me.”
Oh. Eddie should really not be listening to this. Robin is trying to come out to Steve, trying to share something deeply personal and vulnerable with him and only him, not knowing that she’s outing herself to an eavesdropping near-stranger as well. Eddie feels violating and intruding. He can’t imagine how he would feel if he found out someone he barely knew had been secretly listening in on him coming out - probably not great, probably terrified. This is something he shouldn’t know, not like this. 
“But Tammy Thompson’s a girl,” Steve says, his tone unreadable, and Eddie’s heart nearly stops, sure his own anticipatory anxiety is likely only just a fraction of what Robin must be feeling right now. 
“Steve…” 
“Yeah?” A pause. “Oh,” Steve’s voice goes soft. “Oh… Holy shit.” 
“Yeah,” Robin sighs. Eddie can see her hands nervously rubbing at her shins. “Holy shit.” 
Steve is silent for a few painfully long moments. Eddie’s hands curl nervously around his own shins. Is Steve going to be homophobic? Should Eddie be worried for Robin now? 
“Steve, did you OD over there?” Robin asks, trying to be light but Eddie can hear the anxiety in her voice. 
“No, I just, uh- just thinking,��� Steve responds. 
“Okay…” Robin’s voice is barely audible. Eddie is holding his breath.
“I mean, yeah,” Steve says finally, “Tammy Thompson’s cute and all, but the only reason I never gave her the time of day was because I was too busy staring at Eddie Munson.” 
The aforementioned Eddie Munson releases the breath he’d been holding with an involuntary squeak and claps a hand over his mouth. Thankfully, neither of them heard him over the sound of Robin shouting. “What?! Eddie Munson?! You liked Eddie Munson?” she squawks, voicing Eddie’s own stunned thoughts perfectly.
“Yeah,” Steve confirms casually, completely unaware that he's throwing an eavesdropping Eddie into an absolute crisis right now. There's a soft thudding sound like Steve's hitting the back of his head against the stall wall. His voice gets kind of wistful, almost dreamy, as he says, “His rings, man. Rings and tattoos…and that long hair and those chains he'd wear… Honestly just his whole punk aesthetic thing had me mesmerized.” 
“Pretty sure he's metal, not punk,” Robin corrects him. 
Thanks, Robin. Also, what the fuck is happening right now? 
“Whatever. Still hot as hell,” Steve says. 
Eddie squeaks again and practically shoves his whole fist in his mouth to keep himself from making any more noise, his teeth knocking against his rings. The rings Steve likes, apparently. He feels like he's going to pass out, his heart beating so erratically it's making him lightheaded. King Steve - the popular, preppy, stupid, gorgeous, dumb jock Eddie's been crushing on since forever - just called him hot????  
“Did you hear that?” Robin asks suddenly, voice low and cautious. 
Shit. 
“Is anyone else in here?” Steve calls out. 
Fuck. 
Eddie bites down hard on his knuckles and holds his breath, going impossibly still. If they get up and search the bathroom, then he’s about to be caught red handed, crouched on top of a toilet seat with his fist in his mouth and his face flushed scarlet, eavesdropping on their private conversation about secret Russians and gay crushes. Eddie contemplates falling into the toilet and attempting to flush himself down it. Every god imaginable is receiving a silent prayer from him right now as he watches apprehensively through the gaps in the stall. One of those gods must've heard and taken pity on this poor gay disaster of a man crouched like a goblin in a bathroom stall, because after a few horrible seconds of silence, all Steve does is lean down to peer beneath the stalls for a moment before sitting back up and saying, “Looks empty. I think the drugs are making us hear things.” 
“Yeah, probably,” Robin says. Then she giggles, knocking her leg against Steve’s. “I still can’t believe you were into Eddie.” 
Steve flicks Robin’s knee. “I can’t believe you were into Tammy.”
“What’s wrong with Tammy?!” Robin protests.
“What’s wrong with Eddie?” Steve counters. “At least he’s actually got talent. Tammy’s a total dud - she wants to be a singer and shit but she can’t even hold a tune.” 
Eddie is going to die. He is actually going to die right here, right now, because Steve Harrington thinks he’s hot and talented. And then Steve starts mimicking Tammy, singing Total Eclipse of the Heart in a ridiculously goofy voice, and now Eddie is going to die because he finds that so stupidly endearing and adorable. Maybe he should just flush himself down the toilet, save himself from this hopelessly pathetic crush of his. Instead, he’s saved by the bathroom doors bursting open again and a new voice shouting at them, “Okay. What the hell?!” 
Steve and Robin collapse into a fit of giggles before being dragged to their feet by the newcomers and led out of the bathroom, leaving Eddie alone and reeling and struggling to process literally everything he’s just overheard. He finally hops down from his toilet perch and exits the stall like he’s in a daze. He’s not sure how long he had been camped out in there - probably only about ten minutes - but it felt like hours, so long that the world outside of that single bathroom stall almost feels foreign and unfamiliar now. 
Eddie grips the bathroom sink and stares at his flustered reflection in the mirror and whispers to himself, “What the actual fuck?” 
---
Later, years later, only after he and Steve are already dating, Eddie tells him all about this experience, and Steve laughs so hard he nearly cries.
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sunseed-fandump · 1 month
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Every good circus needs a Big Top! And this here is the tent used by the Liar's Circus! But don't be fooled by its small size, the interior is guaranteed to blow any circus fan away! All forms of entertainment can be found within!
Nobody can put a price tag on FUN! So everything is free for the taking! Just step through the door!
Eat, drink, be merry! Let your emotions fly as high as the trapeze!
All that energy will soon be put to better use...
More information about the individual areas under the cut!
ARENA
This is the central area where most performances are given. From clowning around to acrobatic feats that boggle the mind, it's all done here! All paths around the circus lead back to this area, so it is also typically considered "the crossroads" of the circus.
The path to the Arena from the entrance runs through a gauntlet of concessions and gift stands. So many wonderful treats on display almost makes it feel like a dream.
Zoo
All manner of strange creatures are kept within the cages. Summoned from the great beyond lie beasts twisted by shadows and kissed by the forbidden reaches. Lions? Tigers? Bears? Those are nothing compared to what lurks behind the steel bars...
Games Square
Up for a challenge? The Games Square is the perfect place to show off one's skills. Tests of strength, dexterity, and intelligence can be found here. And don't worry about losing, everyone is sure to walk away with a wonderful prize! Just.. Be careful not to get lost in the hall of mirrors.
Playground
This area is for those who crave some good old-fashioned fun. The map really doesn't do it justice. A beautiful carousel spins all day long, filling the air with joyous music. Slides, swings, and various other pieces of equipment offer plenty of ways to play, play, play! So run around! Scream and shout! Let out all that pent-up energy!
Theater
Beautiful tear-jerking performances and awe-inspiring tales are spun on this stage. There's never a shortage of stories! All of them were written by the world's finest playwright, poet, director, actor, clown-- Huh? Who is he? Our beloved Ringmaster of course!
Staff Area
This is where Gingerbrave, Strawberry Cookie, and Wizard Cookie stay. Each performer gets their own tent, filled with all the basic comforts a hard-working cookie needs. Of course, they're tailored to the individual interests of each child as well. Wizard has a cozy little tower filled with books. Strawberry has all sorts of games to keep her occupied. As for Gingerbrave, he's got toys, crayons, and even a whole trampoline in there! The kids are certainly comfortable.
Ok, that's all cool but what's ACTUALLY going on in there?
The answer to that is simple, this plane exists to gather energy for Shadow Milk Cookie. Magic is tied to emotion. So the more excited the guests feel, the more life energy Shadow Milk collects from them. Everything here is perfectly harmless (to guests), as the point is to only illicit strong emotions of thrill, excitement, and joy.
Guests are free to come and go as they please, but when they do leave, everyone feels especially drained.
And if the circus faces a tough crowd? Well, fear is also a viably strong emotion to gather energy from.
The only Cookies in the tent who Shadow Milk Cookie does not collect energy from is the kids. As they need their strength to perform and complete whatever tasks are given to them.
Cookies who are labeled as "Intruders" will have a horde of phantoms, animals, and puppets come down on them from all sides, and that's not even counting how Shadow Milk can control everything and anything inside. So it's best not to pick a fight unless one is prepared...
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rinneverse · 1 year
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࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 — honkai star rail hcs ˒ ⊹
— synopsis: random hc’s about the ways the hsr men love you.
— characters: dan heng, blade, jing yuan, && gepard.
— warnings: lots of emotions and love and sappy words!!, f!reader, praise, pet names (baby, good girl), p in v penetration, mating press (blade). very soft and fluffy, i think. :-)
— notes: i did not mean to disappear for like 3 months LMFAOOOO ,, but hi! i’m back and the honkai star rail brainrot is STRONG. i hope i did them justice !!
MINORS DNI - 18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT.
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✧˚ · . 𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆. ༉‧₊˚.**
→ dan heng is cautious, at first, when it comes to the relationship budding between the two of you. he’s deeply afraid of hurting you, losing you, driving you away.
→ he’s afraid of the intensity in which he loves you—a fire that consumes his very being. his every thought is plagued with you, and it’s something that scares him. but he wants to brave it. for you.
→ your smile, the tilt of your head, the way you carry yourself; he finds himself falling for you harder every day. like he’s been thrown off of a cliff, left to freefall, but the ground is nowhere to be seen.
→ and when he finally gets his hands on you, it’s like a supernova in his chest, an explosion spreading stardust across the whole galaxy. it’s ridiculous, really, how it’s like a giant weight has been lifted off of his shoulders as he holds you in his arms, his lips melding against yours. it’s perfect; two pieces of a puzzle slotting perfectly together.
→ and when he takes you for the first time, in the comfort of your silken sheets, hands intertwined with yours, he finds himself complete—like he doesn’t have to run anymore.
♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡
“baby,” dan heng groans into the crook of your neck. his hips stutter a little as he bottoms out, and the feeling of your heat surrounding him sends a violent shiver down his spine. you lay there below him, staring up at him with nothing but adoration in your eyes, and dan heng thinks to himself that he’s never seen anything more ethereal.
“heng,” you sigh, legs wrapping around his lean waist. “you feel so good.”
he can feel his heart hammering in his ribcage, pressing impossibly closer to you as you whisper sweet praises in his ear. he needs you. he needs all of you, and in return, he’ll give you all of him.
when he pulls out, the drag of his heavy cock against your walls has you keening, breath hitching in your throat as just the blunt head is left—and then he’s slamming back in, and you feel like you’re falling, head light and spinning with pleasure as dan heng sets a steady pace.
“please, please, please,” you plead with a sob of his name. dan heng can feel his cock throb with desire at the sound of his name falling from your lips.
“again,” he grunts, rolling his hips so deliciously that it has your lips parting in a silent moan. “say my name again.”
“dan—dan heng!”
he slips a hand between your sweaty bodies, quickly seeking out your aching clit. the moment he’s touching you there, your back is arching and you think that you’re seeing stars behind your eyelids. you cum with another cry of his name and that sends him right along with you, hastily jerking his hips away as his cum spurts all over your navel.
and as he lays there with you, coming down from his high, he thinks that he’s finally found a place he can call home.
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✧˚ · . 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄. ༉‧₊˚.
→ it’s not often you draw verbal affirmations of love from blade. in fact, it’s scarce, and something you’ve come to terms with. rarely do you ever hear the man utter the words, ‘i love you.’
→ instead, you’ve learned to read between the lines with him—the gentle way in which he treats you, the softening of his gaze as it lands on you, the way he protects you with every ounce of his being.
→ blade is not a man who speaks reverent poems, love songs, or otherwise to you. he shows his love through his actions, through his subtle body language, and especially through the way he worships your body. not one inch is left untouched by him, and you are left trembling and dizzy and full of the love that drifts unsaid between the two of you.
→ even as he ravages your body on those rougher nights, you still feel the adoration that overflows from him, in the way he leaves a blazing trail of kisses down the length of your spine, grunts and groans spilling from his lips as he pulls you ever closer.
♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡
“blade, wait— please, s’too much,” you sob as blade pistons into you mercilessly. he’s got you folded in half, his mouth hot on the sensitive flesh of your neck as he bites—ripping a sob from deep in your chest.
he doesn’t respond, even as your hands tug at the silky length of his hair—pulling a guttural groan from him. and as he lifts his head to look down at you, tears streaking down your cheeks and drool forming at the corner of your lips; something animalistic, something feral glints in his eyes.
“oh, fuck. you like this, yeah? you like when i use you like this? you’re clenching so good around me. takin’ me so good.” he’s breathless as he speaks, lips swooping down to capture yours in a heated kiss. he’s right—you’re clenching so tightly around him, toes curling as he hits just the right spot inside of you.
you’re floating, weightless and utterly exhausted by the time he’s done with you. blade lays beside you, an arm wrapped around your waist as the two of you take a minute to catch your breath.
“… stay here. i’ll be right back.”
you suppress a laugh as blade rolls out of your bed—as if you were going to move anywhere anytime soon. after a few moments of silence, you hear the bathtub faucet start running. a warm feeling blossoms in your chest as blade returns.
he doesn’t say anything as he scoops you up in his arms. you sluggishly throw your arms around him and plant a wet kiss on his cheek.
“love you, bladie. ♡”
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✧˚ · . 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍. ༉‧₊˚.
→ jing yuan is confident. sly. a renowned general of the cloud knights.
→ so why is it that he’s reduced to a fumbling mess around you? he doesn’t understand. it’s something he struggles to wrap his head around—how one second, he’s thinking of all the ways he’d like to woo you, and the next, he’s flushing, stuttering dumbly as you stare up at him with those damned eyes of yours.
→ maybe that was it. the way your eyes seem to pierce through the essence of his very being; if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you one of fu xuan’s assistants in the divination commission. but he does know better, and it’s something that he’s grateful for—he’s not sure how you would view him had you been under fu xuan’s influence. maybe as a scoundrel, since she’s so insistent on viewing him as one.
→ but enough of that. he’s sick of the way he seems to lose all his swagger around you, so one day he sucks it up, puts his big boy general pants on, and asks you out on a dinner date. the way you tilt your head at him has his heart seizing in his chest—until you laugh so gently, a smile gracing your lips as you nod your head.
→ a melodic sound: that’s what your laugh was to him. he’d like to hear that over and over and over again. perhaps he’d like to draw other melodies out of you, play you like an instrument—but for now, he’s content with this.
♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡
there’s electricity in the air, a tension on the verge of snapping as jing yuan guides you to your bed. hickeys litter the vast expanse of your neck and collar, something that makes his chest swell with pride. with desire.
he’s the one doing this to you—the one causing that foggy daze in your eyes as you look at him with such adoration, pupils blown wide. he can feel the lust in your gaze; he’s returning it tenfold with his own golden ones. he grins down at you.
“baby,” he says. “spread your legs for me. there you go—good girl.”
he hums, pleased, as you listen obediently. he flips up the fabric of your skirt, pausing at the sight of the lacy white panties you wore. his tongue flicks out to wet his lips.
oh, he was going to devour you. whole.
you thread a hand through his soft hair as he lowers himself to the apex of your thighs, breath ghosting over the most sensitive part of you—you’re so worked up that even the fabric in between barely does anything to separate you from him.
“sweetheart,” jing yuan speaks lowly. his voice is a deep rumble, and your thighs would’ve clenched together if it weren’t for his strong hands holding you open.
“i want to absolutely ruin you.”
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✧˚ · . 𝐆𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐃. ༉‧₊˚.
→ gepard’s large stature is juxtaposed by the gentle way he treats you. as if you were fragile glass, or perhaps a beautiful statue made of ice, his every touch is.. not quite hesitant, but calculated, made to only treat you with reverence. he worships you, your very soul, everything that you are. he adores you.
→ he is a protector at his core. he would do anything for you. he is always sure to take care of you before himself - your pleasure comes first. in fact, he thinks that he gets off when he makes you feel good. it makes his chest swell with pride and his cock twitch with desire.
→ often, he’s occupied on the frontlines, protecting belobog with all of his might. that just makes the time spent together with you even more precious. it’s not something he takes for granted—whatever time you get together, you best believe all of his attention is on you.
→ he’s treating you to a candlelit dinner, buying you flowers, taking you shopping, the whole package. he’s got a captain’s salary, after all—and he’s using it all to spoil you. he buys you promise rings and a necklace with his initial on it, pretty earrings and bracelets and other trinkets to remind you of him when he’s away. he leaves you his clothes, sprayed with his cologne, when he knows he’ll be gone for longer than he wants to be.
♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡
“gepard,” you say gently, running a hand through his hair as he holds your hips tight. you straddle him, plush thighs pressed against his stronger ones as he ruts up against you. “slow down, baby, we have time..”
time. time was something that was becoming increasingly more scarce—more precious. he’d like to spend all his time with you, but duty calls; and so he treats this time he can spend with you as sacred, and he’d like to not waste a single second.
“i know, i know,” he says, voice strained with want. “it’s been so long. i need you.”
you’re not used to gepard being so forward like this—but it wasn’t something you were particularly against, either; the way he guides your hips down against his cock has a soft moan bubbling up in your throat.
“let me show you how much i love you.” he says, running strong hands along your sides. it sends a shiver up your spine, your heart hammering in your chest as he pulls you close.
you nod your head, heart full with adoration and want and everything that is gepard. “please.”
and he does, undressing you carefully and unravelling you at the core. and when he deems you ready, he’s sliding his heavy cock along your folds, drawing a whine from your throat. he only smiles as you desperately rut your hips to no avail, held down by his large hands.
he doesn’t tease for long, though—he never does, not when he values your pleasure above everything else. you let out a sob of relief as you feel him slowly slide in, cunt spasming around his thick girth as he inches in slowly. he’s always so careful with you—knows that he’s bigger than average, so he has to take his time. he doesn’t mind; never once has.
he holds you close as he makes love to you, bodies melding together perfectly. if the warmth and love between you two was something physical, he thinks that it could melt the eternal freeze that plagues belobog.
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please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!
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