#hot dud

[godsentforever]

GOD☆★☆SENT me

#arab #hot dud #godsent

[dudethatsmyundeaduncle]

Tim Drake's Mom is actually Lara Croft! AU

After getting pregnant Lara Croft disappears off the face of the earth, takes up a shell company in Gotham left to her by her father, and assumes the identity Janet Drake.

(DC made Timmy's parents archeologists! so Sis it was between Indiana Jones or the Tomb Raider and well here we are!)

___________________________________________________________

Lara Croft has a daring archeological adventure/world saving mission with a dashing man she only knows as N. Drake (if u know u know) and finds out she's pregnant weeks after.

Lara Croft did not expect to be Pregnant. Lara knows that she shouldn't have a baby. She knows this intellectually and emotionally, she doesn't have any family left and after nearly 10 years of traveling the globe and putting herself in life or death situations she knows her life can't accommodate children. Lara knows the responsible thing to do, she makes an appointment with NHS/MSI and focuses on her next project. (TW: Discussion of Abortion)

Lara never gets her appointment. She misses her abortion date in London when she gets caught up in another mad expedition that takes her half way across the world.

On this mission she nearly looses everything, her friends, her own life, what's left of her father's legacy, all for a semi cursed magical artifact that nearly blows up the South American Coast.

Lara's tired, scared, she's been running from Trinity (evil org) for nearly a decade now . She's 29, she's 5 months pregnant, and she's stuck floating on her back in the middle of the South Atlantic sea watching the sky burn.

Lara's rich she could always get the abortion, legally or otherwise, her father left her a billionaire and the souvenirs she'd collected from her travels do nothing but add to that wealth.

Trinity wants Lara Croft dead, they'll never stop chasing, and Lara just wants respite. She wants her quaint childhood in the English countryside with her father, she wants to curl up and sleep for a thousand years. She wants to be someone else, just for a moment.

Her heart beats wildly in her chest and she can almost feel another heart beating alongside it.

Lara Croft makes a decision. She sinks into the sea and doesn't come back up for air even when it burns.

On the shore a nameless woman washes up, water logged and looking for passage to America.

The Croft's have had shell companies for years, one can't be a billionaire these days without at least a few, Medi-industries is an unassuming medical supplier located in Gotham, New Jersey the crime capital of North America. It's the perfect place to disappear.

Janet Drake Lands in Gotham on a gloomy morning in March, she's got enough money to throw around that people forget to ask what family she's from, this is Gotham new money is nearly unheard of.

By mid April Janet has reestablished control of Medi-Industries, Now Drake Industries, and purchased an old English style mansion in Bristol, which the real-estate agent has assured her is a great neighborhood.

Timothy Jackson Drake is born July 19th at nearly 3 in the morning squalling high into the night like a banshee. He is perfectly healthy and perfectly safe in Janet's arms.

It is only in the safety of their home, in the house Janet picked, because it was high on a hill for tactical advantage and had bullet proof glass nestled between quaint wood paneled windows, It is only in the heart of Drake Manor that Lara dares to Whisper her son's name

"Timothy Jackson Croft"

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

AU ALSO INCLUDES!

Badass Lara Croft being the cool mom TM

A family portrait of the Drakes, Including Janet, baby Tim, and a mysterious Jack Drake (who was a very discreet and well paid member of Gotham's theatre society, and who was also more then happy to pose as a rich ladies dead husband for a day)

A Socttish Nanny/Housekeeper with a very keen eye and discreet mouth who will not tell a soul that she is fairly sure she's employed by Lord Richard Croft's, eccentric billionares, missing daughter.

precocious and slightly British accented baby Tim who gets to have his Mom with him for 10 whole years! before she inevitably runs back off to save the world

Tim being unaware of his mother's past life beyond her name until the age of 13 when he becomes Robin and is able to actually find out what his mom's been protecting him from his whole life.

I imagine in this AU that eventually Trinity finally catches wind of where Lara is hiding and she has a big confrontation with them in New Jersey. It's way too close to Gotham and Tim for her comfort, she knows this is the only chance she'll get to control the chaos.

So she packs Tim up to move him into the dorms at Gotham Academy and promises she'll write and be home for his birthday in the summer. After she's finished her "company" business first of course.

Tim's confused but he trusts his mom, he gets unsigned postcards from all over the world and pins them above his bed in the dorm and goes to sleep trying to guess what country she's in every night.

The move to the dorm is kind of cool to Tim as well because it means he can start his plan to follow Batman and Robin in the city! (in this AU there's no way Lara wouldn't have noticed him sneaking out at 9, but Gotham academy security? totally oblivious)

Tim celebrates his 10th birthday with his mom at home, he has so many freaking questions about where she was! and she tells him outlandish stories about daring fights and cursed artifacts that he rolls his eyes at but enjoys none the less.

it isn't till he's 15 that his Robin work and his mom's adventures cross paths.

After so many years of close calls, of hiding bruises from his mom with same concealer she uses to hide her own wounds, of wondering if it was selfish to wish his Mom cared a little bit less about the world and would stay with him for more then a few weeks at a time. Finally it all comes to a head in the worst way. Lara Croft's latest adventure puts her right in the middle of a Bat Level investigation. It has Tim near loosing his mind with worry hoping his mom is alive and Lara having the worst freakout/Blow up of her life realizing her son has been putting himself in Danger every night she thought he was safe.

The Drake/Crofts are messy! Bad at communicating! And unfortunately the exact same kind of reckless and self sacrificing!

Fun food for thought:

Lara canonically is a killer, if you've played any of the reboot Tomb Raider series she can be pretty gruesome and efficient! Very cool! Jason would stan! Tim is kind of appalled! Lara is glad Tim's never killed, that he's never had to.

Lara still dies in this AU but it's in a big Trinity X Obeah Man X Captain Boomerang Cluster fuck where Lara finishes off Trinity and Obeah Man for good but looses her own life in the process. Tim is devastated, he feels like they were just starting to really be 100% transparent with each other before her death. Que Tim's not good very bad year!

if you've made it this far in my rambles here's a treat! I actually wrote a lil fuckin blurb for this!

preface: This the first time Robin and Lara Croft have ever met/are on the same mission.

___________

" mom!" Tim shouts, running before Bruce can even properly land the BatJet.

The old temple is ablaze, the ancient structure already half crumbled in on itself with what's left of it is spewing out clouds of jet black smoke.

Tim's mother limps out what was once the front entrance clutching at her ribs.

She's filthy, covered in a thick layer of dirt and grime. but she's got on a triumphant smile like the cat who got the cream.

" Mom!" Tim yells again watching as she does a double take at his choice of moniker.

Her mouth twists in a grimace as she stumbles and Tim dives under her arm quickly moving to support her left side.

Lara Croft meets the white lenses of Red Robin's eyes in confusion

" What'd you call me?" She slurs trying to blink away the smoke inhalation that makes it hard to focus and leaves her lightheaded.

Lara's right ankle which took the brunt of a very nasty dive from a very high perch, not 20 minutes earlier as she raced out of the Dead Kings Tomb, finally gives up the ghost and she pitches forward taking Red Robin with her.

He's young, she thinks, he's very young.

Before either of them can hit the ground Batman intercepts their fall hefting Lara into a secure hold.

Red Robin catches himself and latches onto Lara's hand.

He yanks off one of his gloves and tries to wipe some of the grime out of her eyes.

" Mum" he croaks this time, voice breaking nearly in half on the last syllable.

Lara furrows her brow, the cowl covers so much of this young man's face, from his nose too his brow bone, but his chin is startlingly familiar as is his absolutely atrocious British accent.

He reminds her terribly of Timothy.

" Tim" she says deliriously, Lara tries to smile but her eyes start to droop and her head lolls slack against Bruce's arm. She's clean out.

Tim makes an odd lunge and jerk movement pressing his fingers into her carotid artery to feel her pulse.

He's shaking, more wrong footed and anxious then Bruce has ever seen him.

Batman is extremely grateful when Nightwing comes up behind him and gently pulls his younger brother's hands away from his mother's comatose body.

" She's fine Red. We need to get her on board so we can get her some oxygen though, the smoke inhalation is getting to her. "

" Right" Tim says, still frozen in place. He shakes it off quickly " Right." he repeats pivoting in place and leading their small party through the remains of the ruins and back to the jet.

" I'll prep the med bay."

--------

pics or it didn't happen! (ps, if u wanna write, draw, or HC anything for this AU feel free my lads)

#Lol hikey don't know how to tag this #DC #batman #tim drake #batfam #robin #red robin #Bruce Wayne #Lara Croft #Janet Drake #Tomb raider #DC x Tomb Raider #Lara Croft is Tim Drake's Mom AU #Nightwing makes the tiniest appearance #I see everyone's Tim has bad parents HCs and I raise you Tim has a single british mum #Tim has the Hot Parents TM between Bruce and Lara in this AU everyone is like??? cuz timmy grows up into the blandest looking NPC white dud #sorry couldn't make one post without making fun of tim #Lara calls Tim Poppet #he's just her little guy #he has the same weird accent bruce has new jersey with some british inflections #Alfred is subtely impressed when he meets Tim and the lil guy can do a perfect London inflection #Thoughts LMAO #tw: discussion of abortion

[avarkriss]

Out of context spoilers below:

#so why did they put the actual premiere during the book of boba fett #jon talking about the real timeline or whatever was him bracing us for this dud of an episode #was he hot- yes #could this episode have been so much better- also yes #the mandalorian #the mandalorian season 3 spoilers #out of context spoilers #the mandalorian season 3 #genuinely the first season of this show was so good wtf was this

[4trackcassette]

forgot to post my final verdict. didn't enjoy either/or. don't particularly understand how it got such good reviews. don't recommend reading. the idiot at least gave me something to chew on....hard to tell what either/or was except worse. I'm not sure it gave me anything at all, except passing familiarity with a few works of literature to put on my list. blegh. 4/10

#Genuinely the most annoying book I've read in a hot sec #Didn't particularly love the idiot either but I found it worth reading more or less #Sorry ik this one is actually popular with tumblr ppl who I do respect their taste overall... Just a dud for me #But I also didn't like the Goldfinch when I read it so... Perhaps that alienates the other half... #I read books I like guys. I do. #I've even read books I like THIS YEAR! #Four or five of em!

[if-i-say-to-you-tomorrow]

just need to announce that this is a pro-ITTOD blog. anti-ITTODers dni tbh

#the only real dud for me on ITTOD is Hot Dog. which like. obviously. #i don't hate it. it's fun but kinda embarrassing to be on that album #Fool in the Rain is a masterpiece #Carouselambra is... an epic of sorts. it is what it is. but the bridge (?) is one of the best moments on the whole album #people are so harsh. i don't expect it to be people's favorite lz album (it's far from mine) but it's really good #also Coda has some good moments omg. hello? Bonzo's Montreux??? #alright that's all. just wanted to rant :)

[lord-radish]

Tens of thousands of people have been fired in the tech sector in the last six months alone. With the economy the way it is, and with people who are already unable to get a job, I wonder how an extra 20,000+ jobseekers are going to have any luck finding work.

#i just want to point out that this isn't just automation. it's different for every company but a lot of it comes down to profiteering imo #the video game industry made disgusting amounts of money during the pandemic. best three years of sales in history #but that momentum was never going to keep up forever. even when the momentum was at full swing people were getting laid off #Activision-Blizzard laid off over a hundred people just before christmas while bobby kotick got a $250 million bonus #thst might have even been before the pandemic #but you're seeing it with microsoft and ubisoft. wouldn't surprise me if sony and nintendo were following suit in a less public manner #microsoft - arguably the biggest tech conglomerate in the world (next to tencent) - laid off 10 thousand workers alone #i live in a town with just over 10 thousand people. in my entire fucking town. in my perspective that's more or less the world around me #all of those people - jobless #facebook - didn't like 7k people just get fired? that's hot on the heels of john carmack leaving too #john carmack is probably one of the top 100 people in the tech industry. his tech improvements helped aging PC hardware keep up for years #DOOM might be a meme but it ran that well because id software under john carmack revolutionised rendering techniques and scrolling #and stuff like that. john carmack has been at the forefront of graphical technology and game development for 30+ years #that's resulted in a couple duds like RAGE. he was also all-in on voxel technology before he moved into VR #all of that was context for this: john carmack left meta (who bought oculus) and lambasted the company for poor management on the way out #saying that he'd never seen such unnecessary and wanton expenditure in his career. meta were throwing their money at things thay don't work #here's john carmack trying to lay the groundwork of a successful game for meta's metaverse. here's meta chasing superfluous buzzwords #meta spent almost $14 BILLION on buzzwords and marketing at the behest of the actual tech. and then they FIRED 7000 PEOPLE!!!!!! #they had a HAIL MARY working on their game - because metaverse IS A GAME - and they prioritised SELLING THE PRODUCT BEFORE BUILDING IT #IT COST THEM $14 BILLION + THEIR HAIL MARY - AND THEN THEY FIRED THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE!!!!!! #Ubisoft and Activision-Blizzard have been facing mass resignations after years of abusive and toxic workplaces #and on top of that they're firing people too. google stadia just went under. it wouldn't surprise me if 2k and rockstar were firing people #I don't know how many other unemployed people there are in america - hundreds of thousands? but 20k more is even worse for everyone #keep in mind that even with a $14 billion loss - meta still makes billions. Microsoft is in no financial danger #tech is more lucrative now than ever. i genuinely believe that these cuts are to keep record profits at record heights #because the pandemic boom is ending and their ALREADY OBSCENELY LUCRATIVE revenue flows are going back to normal #so 20k+ tech workers are losing their jobs to keep $80 billion instead of $79 billion. all of those people - jobless #that's 20 thousand people with individual lives and families and expenses. lost their jobs in the last six months #that example i gave - $80 billion instead of $79 billion. that's not revenue. that's profit. #all of those people out of work due to incompetence at best and rank orofiteering at worst. their salaries and benefits come under revenue

[betty-burnout]

spent 20 minutes putting my hair in perfect messy buns bc sorry i actually can't clean unless i look right (◡ ‿ ◡ ✿)

#this was also a ''try all the lipstick to find the duds'' type cleaning so im also wearing hot pink lipstick #which then also couldn't be the ~only~ facial adornment #im just cleaning the bathroom lol whatever gets u motivated ig

[theghostofashton]

.

#i don't talk about glee very much anymore but i think a probably hot take i still have is that blaming rib/ryan specifically for everything #isn't really accurate at all? #like.... the first two seasons which are widely considered the best were solely written by them #s3 is pretty disliked on here and that's when they brought in more of a writing staff #and obv i'm not saying the first two seasons are perfect i have plenty of issues w them lol #but i think the criticism toward rib in particular is weird considering a lot of ryan eps are beloved #madonna laryngitis silly love songs original song new new york homecoming etc #ryan has written his fair share of duds imo but the writing on this show as a whole was real fucking strange #i have a lot of thoughts on the shift from satire to seriousness that really did a lot of damage maybe i'll write about them sometime lol

[shakecup]

What candy you buy from me at concessions says about you

Swedish fish: you have unaddressed antisocial and narcissistic traits. People in your life are afraid to tell you how they really feel about you

Hot tamales: you’re just plain fucked up. You were never quite young as much as you were just pre-old

Snickers bar: you’re hungry. Your kids made you see this movie

Haribo goldbears: Manchild/womanchild

Milk duds: you’re normal

Sour patch kids: You lack impulse control

Reese’s cups: You lack dignity

Plain m&ms: You’re an “old soul”

Peanut m&ms: you’re deluding yourself

[godsentforever]

GOD♡LOVE♡ me

#hot dud #arab #latino #pretty boy swag #godsent

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

When Robin couldn't get a hold of Steve, she immediately started biking over to his house. He was still homing a newly turned vampire Eddie, and while she trusted Eddie not to hurt him, she also knew that accidents happened. So, when she walked into his living room and found Eddie's mouth attached to Steve’s neck. she immediately thought the worst. Robin shrieked, causing Eddie to pull away, and she tackled him. She raised the stake she had made and moved to stab him when Steve screamed.

"ROBIN! STOP! STOP! HE WAS KISSING MY NECK!" Steve yelled.

Robin froze, her knee still pressed to Eddie's chest.

"What?!"

"He was kissing my neck, Robin," Steve said. "We were making out."

"You like women!" Robin exclaimed.

"And men!" Steve exclaimed.

"Since when?!"

"Robin! I told you!"

"The hell you did!"

"Robin, I told you that I thought Tom Cruise and Eddie Van Halen were hot!" Steve exclaimed. "I said I like both!"

"I thought you meant like, objectively!" Robin shrieked. "I missed my best friend coming out to me! Oh my God, it's me. I've been calling other people dinguses this whole time when it's been me. I'm the dingus."

"Well, when you think about it, aren't we all a little bit of a dingus?" Eddie asked. "By the way, you're still on top of me and pointing that stake at me."

"Shit, sorry," Robin said and helped him up. "I'm sorry about, you know, trying to kill you."

"To be fair, what were you supposed to think?" Eddie asked. "I think it was so metal of you that you were willing to kill me to save your best friend. That was a perfect tackle. By the way, can I keep the stake?"

"Oh, yeah," Robin said and handed it to him. "The least I can do. I have nothing against you! I actually really like you, and I think you guys are super cute. Maybe I wouldn't have tried to kill you if someone answered their phone."

"No worries, Buckley. We are all good," Eddie said as he pointed the stake around the living room like a sword.

"I took it off the hook," Steve shrugged. "I didn't want any interruptions."

"Hm. That worked out well," Robin said. "And really, Eddie Munson? He's such a dud. He even looks like a muppet."

"Okay, I feel like that's in reference to something that I wasn't there for, so I'm just going to ignore that," Eddie said and proceeded to trip over his own feet then over the coffee table. "Shit! Goddamnit! Steve! Steve! The stake is stuck in a place where it shouldn't be! It doesn't feel like what we did last night! Take it out so I can heal! Steve! This doesn't feel good! STEVE!"

"Coming, baby," Steve said, struggling not to laugh.

Robin sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose as she closed her eyes against the sight. She burst into laughter.

"Eddie Munson, the hero of Hawkins."

#stranger things #stranger things s4 #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson lives #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #robin buckley #lesbian robin buckley #robin & steve #platonic stobin #platonic soulmates #platonic with a capital p #robin & eddie #platonic reddie #bisexual steve harrington #bisexual eddie munson #bi4bi #vampire!eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #rueleigh writes

[5ueckers]

pretty girls

pairing : azzi fudd x reader

warnings : smut.

notes : azzi 😍💞💓🌸💗💗🪷💖🥰💝💘🌼🌺🌺❣️💞💞💞 thats all.

words : 1898

you and azzi collapse onto the couch in the dorm, exhausted. drunk. annoyed.

tonight was a dud, to say the least. you’ve barely had any time to go out and have fun, like you should as college students, because of basketball and junior year being the absolute worst when it comes to your workload. and then, on the one night you do have off, free of practice for the next couple days and all your homework turned in, both the guys you planned on spending it with turned out to be absolute dicks.

yours had seemed nice enough, in the beginning. he’d been the one ask you out after over a week of staring you down in your shared econ class, take you, azzi, and the football player she’s been talking to out to some club in hartford, and then back to his place after a couple hours of dancing and taking shots. but just as he’d gotten you back to his dorm and out of your clothes, he’d said something so boyishly disgusting, it’d taken real reserve for you to not to slap him before pushing him off of you, re–dressing, collecting your things, and getting the hell out of there.

it’d been pure coincidence that azzi texted asking if you could meet with her as you’d stumbled out of werth tower, phone in one hand and your heels in clutched in the other. you’re not sure what happened with her and her football player— it couldn’t have been good, judging by how her makeup was running. you’d felt bad, and held her hand the whole uber ride back to the dorm, the pad of your thumb caressing the back of her hand.

“want a water?” you ask the girl, tiredly. you’re still very much inebriated and standing could result in a pretty embarrassing fall.

she nods, though, and so you decide to risk it, stumbling into the kitchen and at one point using the wall for support. you grab two bottled waters and pad back into the living room, handing one to azzi and sighing as you sit back down next to her, close. you can feel the heat from her body radiating onto you.

“that fucking sucked,” you gripe, recalling the night, earning a weak, drunken laugh from azzi.

“dudes…” she says, rolling her eyes and taking a sip of her water, eliciting giggles from yourself. a single word is enough to get her point across; men fucking suck.

“ugh, and i’m still wet,” you murmur to yourself, the alcohol in your system removing any filter you’d have otherwise. you and azzi are close, so this is probably the least provocative thing you’ve said to her tonight; you both laugh at the statement. you shift uncomfortably and tug at the end of your dress. you need to get out of this chiffon and take a long, hot shower.

azzi turns to look at you, one of her curls falling out of place. she still looks so pretty, even though her makeup had gotten messy. her big brown eyes and perfect, clear skin and full lips. how could anyone fumble her and live with themselves?

“what?” she giggles at how long you’ve been looking at her.

“nothin’,” you smile back. “you’re just too pretty to be crying over some guy.”

then, azzi leans in and kisses you. she pulls back to assess your reaction, before kissing you again when you don’t look petrified or disgusted. you let her slip her tongue into your mouth this time, and surprise yourself with the little moan that comes with it, eyes fluttering closed. your back naturally arches to push up against her.

you lose track of how long you make out before azzi’s hand finds it way to your knee, resting there gingerly, “can i…?”

“like, finger me?” you ask dumbly, because fingering is definitely a step above kissing. plenty of girls that are straight and just friends kiss each other, even make out. but you and azzi are crossing into the territory of actually having sex.

seeing as you play basketball, the conversation of sexuality has obviously come up before, often. every other morning, actually, as paige feels the need to recount her sexcapades to you all. you hadn’t really thought about yours until you got to uconn, and then decided to quietly give yourself the title of unlabeled, while still just hooking up with guys because that’s all you knew. you didn’t think azzi…

“it doesn’t have to mean anything, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she assures you, her tone surprisingly casual, like she’s trying to convince you to try a new drink at the bar or attempt a shot you haven’t tried before at practice, not breach the basis of your close but purely platonic relationship. “we’re just having fun.”

you consider your position— on the couch, in the dorm, basically out in the open. the other girls had gone out, too, to ted’s, of course. but knowing them, with a schedule this clear, they won’t be home any time soon. and wet is an understatement; you’re practically aching down there, you need to be touched so bad. what could it possibly hurt?

“okay,” you say, finally, a smile slowly spreading over your features. azzi pecks your lips once more before sliding her hand further up your leg.

never having done this before, you’re nervous as you part your thighs, just slightly, still confined by the tight dress, but then her hand is there, warm palms caressing your skin and inching closer and closer towards your core. you gasp when her fingers finally graze the thong you’d put on, feeling a rush of wetness between your folds at the small contact.

“is this still okay?” your friend asks, voice barely above a whisper, and you nod, almost embarrassingly quickly. so she keeps going, experimentally rubbing you through your underwear and you keep gasping, bordering on whimpering with every touch.

“here,” azzi climbs off of the couch and positions herself between your knees, encourages you to push yourself forward by grabbing onto your hips and finally pushing up that dress. when she finally gets you out of your thong, carelessly tossing the garment aside, it’s less like she’s actually trying to get you off and more like curious touching, unknowingly sending you closer and closer to the edge as she spreads your lips open, drags her index finger up from your slit to your clit. “you are really wet,” she muses, pulling her hand away, bringing her thumb and index finger together just to pull them apart and watch as a thin string of your arousal connects them. you blush, suddenly embarrassed, thighs twitching. “it’s okay, just relax for me.”

she smiles up at you so sweetly, and you’re trying to, throwing your head back and closing your eyes and trying to even out your breathing, but then she’s bringing her face toward your cunt, flattening her tongue against you and licking upward, sending shockwaves up your spine, and you can’t help but squirm and whine. “open your legs a little wider, y/n… good girl,” she instructs, and your head practically feels like it’s swimming at the words, unbelievably sexy in her voice.

“a–az,” you want desperately to grasp at her hair, but know how long it took for her to style her curls, so you opt to just fist your hands into the sofa and cry out when she sucks your clit into her mouth.

the way azzi’s using her mouth so well and holding your legs open with a firm grip on your thighs makes you wonder if this is her first time with another girl, too. she doesn’t look grossed out by the taste or confused on how to make you feel good. if anything, when she drags her tongue down from your clit to your entrance, licking into you, she seems all too happy to responsible for the long, drawn out moan it elicits from you, and repeats the motion until you’re practically crying. when you feel your heart start to hammer against your chest, you know you’re not going to last much longer.

azzi removes her mouth from your pussy, but quickly replaces it with a pair of fingers, working over your clit at high speed while she presses wet kisses to your thighs. all it takes is a few more flicks of her wrist to make you cum, thighs trembling and toes curling into the carpet. she doesn’t stop playing with your clit until your moans turn into winces, signaling that you’re being overstimulated.

you feel almost delirious as azzi climbs into your lap, arms looping around your neck. it feels almost natural for you to place your hands on her waist, looking up at her like she hung the moon. “was i good?”

“i can’t feel my legs, i think,” you rasp in response, earning laughter from the girl, before she leans down to kiss you, the taste of your own cum potent on her lips and tongue.

as the kiss intensifies, you just go with the flow, letting your hands slip past the hem of the crop top azzi had worn. you push the fabric up until its bunched up at her chest, glad to find she went braless, and, tentatively, take her breasts into your hands, fondling them gently. azzi chuckles at your obvious nervousness and lack of experience, but her laughter quickly melts into soft moans as you take one into your mouth, sucking firmly— you don’t think you’ve ever heard a prettier sound. you don’t think you’re going to be able to just go without ever hearing that sound again.

releasing her nipple, you let your free hand travel down to the button on azzi’s shorts, popping it open, and pulling down the zipper with haste. despite the constricting denim, your hand still fits into the opening, past the hem of her panties. you figure it can’t be much different than getting yourself off with your own fingers, so you just go by what you’d do if you were on your own, rubbing slow circles into azzi’s clit to work her up before quickening the pace.

she buries her face into your neck, moans muffled as her hold on you tightens— you take that, and how wet she is, as a sign that you’re doing it right, and continue until you feel her physically shaking in your arms. “fuck, y/n, i’m gonna—” she cuts herself off with a high–pitched moan, and you continue to rub her clit through her orgasm until she stops grinding down against your hand. you rub her back, also, feeling that you’re actually kind of good at this. that you could get used to it.

the exhaustion from the night seems to hit you both like a brick, all of a sudden, and you both just sort of slump over in that position, limbs tangled and all.

#fic : pretty girls. #uconn wbb #azzi fudd #azzi fudd x reader #wlw smut #i was going to write more of an ending to this #like smth funny or yk actually conclusive #but then i was like nah lol so just have this as it is #i just got a spinal fusion too so yall not allowed to call it bad either 😝

[elliewlums]

Hello ♡ if you're taking requests for drabbles then could I please request Eddie and Shy!reader who maybe gets a little anxious around his friends (dustin, mike, lucas, etc) and sorta clings to him? If not then it's totally okay and I love your work !

content warnings; all the fluff, just so much fluff. eddie reassures anxious reader. allusions to some anxiety.

your manicured hand clasps eddie’s own ring clad one tightly, baby pink nails drawing circles across his calloused skin. eddie’s preoccupied in a heated debate with dustin and you use the distraction to worm your way further into his arms, twiddling the bottom of his hellfire shirt anxiously. you don’t mean to be clingy, but the close proximity with all of eddie’s friends causes you oftentimes to retreat back into yourself; you’re not really a people person, and you’re always concerned that they don’t like you. eddie understands and does his best to alleviate your almost constant worry.

he absentmindedly wraps a wiry arm around to waist, tugging you into his lap; you exhale in relief and rest your head against his shoulder. his head dips to come level with yours.

“y’alright?” he murmurs. you nod. his hand grabs your thigh, pulling you even closer. “sure?”

“i’m okay, eds.” your voice is meek and quiet. he presses a kiss to your jaw and then one to your forehead. you circle his neck with loose arms and press your face to his neck, breathing in his oddly comforting scent of cigarettes and awfully cheap cologne; you told him you hated it when he first bought it but you’ve grown to adore it. it’s so him.

“y’know, there’s nothing to be worried about,” he says, not meanly. “promise.” you attempt a smile, lips pulled tight, and the subtle tremble in your hands has eddie stroking over your knuckles and pressing a kiss to each one.

“i know,” you whisper. “you know what i’m like. i get nervous. i’m a total dud.” eddie’s brows shoot up.

“no way!” he exclaims. “seriously, no way are you a dud. you’re just not a people person and that’s okay. doesn’t matter to me.”

you smile for real this time.

“sorry for being so clingy, though.”

“you’re not.” he smooths a hand over your head. “you just like to be close. i like you here, close, as well.” he smiles, pointed canines protruding from his plush lips. you peck him once, twice, thrice. dustin fax gags.

“ugh, get a room!”

eddie grabs an empty water bottle and hurls it in his direction.

“fuck off, henderson. you’re just jealous my girlfriend is so hot.”

“have you seen suzie?”

“shut up, like i believe your fake girlfriend is as hot as my real one!”

“i’m right here,” you laugh, swiping at his chest.

“what? you are hot…”

“oh, give it a rest!”

#eddie my love #eddie x you #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x afab reader #eddie munson x shy!reader #eddie munson x girly!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson oneshot #fem!reader #fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #writer #writers on tumblr #stranger things x you #stranger things fic #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #stranger things x fem!reader #stranger things x y/n

[katyawriteswhump]

Livin’ the dream (steddielovemonth day 3)

After High School, Eddie and Steve’s lives don’t exactly go as planned… For @steddielovemonth day 3 prompt: Love is being terrified but not letting that stop you from taking a leap (@unclewaynemunson) Thank you <3

Rating: M. CW: Unhealthy/abusive relationship (NOT steddie!) Tags: No Upside Down AU, angst. WC: 2,225

…

“I’d never have dreamed,” said Eddie one morning, during his daily stop at Dave’s Diner, “that Steve Harrington pouring my coffee would become the highlight of my day.”

Steve smirked. “Wasn’t exactly how I saw my future either, Munson.”

While Steve poured, Eddie left his hand on his coffee cup. He always did—even if the cup got too hot. Even if it scalded him. He’d not miss a chance to have Steve that close. Nor to enjoy staring at those lickable arms, today exposed to the shoulders by a snug-fitting vest top.

“I guess you really dig lousy weak coffee, man,” said Steve.

“Sets me up for a busy day fulfilling my childhood ambition of hauling bricks, darlin’.” He’d gotten away with ‘darlin’’ last week. Steve didn’t chew his head off today, either, so… “Living the dream, huh?”

Steve sighed hard, started wiping the counter near Eddie, over and over, as he always did. “How’s your pay?” asked Steve quietly.

“It’s a day rate. Not stellar, not the pits. Why? You looking for other work?” Panic rocked through Eddie. “You’re not leaving this place?” Though it would be awesome if we worked together. Eddie was already fantasising about those hot summer days on the construction site, when Steve might strip his shirt off.

“Nah, not really,” said Steve, “I’m kinda tied to this job.” He ran his free hand distractedly across his eyes. Tied to this job—what the heck did that mean? Steve often seemed world-weary and withdrawn. Incongruously so, given the confident guy he used to be. But that was adult life, so it seemed. It sucked.

All the same, Eddie experienced an uneasy urge to probe deeper. Steve got in first: “Hey, how’s the band?”

Eddie beamed. Yeah, there was one other thing, other than coffee with Steve, that he lived for: “We got a gig Saturday night.”

“Let me guess—the super bowl came begging?”

“Haha, just you wait, big guy. It’s at that new bar in town. You wanna come?”

Steve paused his scrubbing. Something sparked in the depths of those big, beguiling eyes that made Eddie’s throat tighten, and his pulse beat faster. “I’m working,” said Steve. I’ll try and get away aft—”

“Hey, kid! You gone blind or you really this lazy?” That was Steve’s boss, Dave, who’d gotten the biggest arms Eddie had ever seen. “There’s more than one punter in this place. If you can count that high?”

“Jesus, he can be such an a-hole,” mumbled Steve. He shot off, even as Eddie bleated: 

“See you tomorrow?”

…

Only seven people turn up for Corroded Coffin’s gig. It was a total dud, and Eddie didn’t give a shit. 

Among the seven, was Steve. 

The crappy too-bright venue lighting revealed Steve undressing Eddie with his eyes, as surely as Eddie undressed Steve. Eddie was so blown away, he almost messed up the finger work on his most bodacious solo.

After the final number, Eddie placed down his guitar and made a beeline for Steve: “Hey, you made it.”

“Figured I might as well. Jon Bon Jovi wasn’t returning my calls.” Steve snickered, and Eddie literally drooled. Metal thrummed through his every vein, and his blood rushed madly—most of it heading south. Steve Harrington CAME TO MY GIG AND STAYED FOR THE NON-EXISTENT AFTER-PARTY. Steve’s vest top was sadly missed, but his tight t-shirt still afforded Eddie a glimpse of that tasty chest hair, and the skin-tight jeans were… Gnnng! And as for the touch of eyeliner? 

Slayed Eddie dead.

“You wanna come backstage?” Eddie’s voice came out embarrassingly high-pitched.

“I’d like a drink. Preferably something stronger than coffee, and that I don’t have to pour.”

After his sixth shot, Eddie went in for the kill: “You are literally the hottest fucking thing I have ever goddamn seen.”

“Not exactly slick.” Steve leaned close, and Eddie inhaled his fast, bourbon-spiced breaths. “But I guess it’s a step up on ‘do you come here often.’” 

Eddie silenced him with a blockbuster kiss, which Steve returned instantly. Within moments, Eddie was up off his barstool, hands roving wildly over Steve’s delicious torso. Okay, also wandering around to pry under his tight t-shirt, and to grope that mega-hot denim-clad ass. Steve pawed Eddie with equal enthusiasm, setting his barstool rocking till it toppled back. 

He jumped off, straight into Eddie’s arms. Wow! There was nothing better than kissing somebody roughly your own height. Back at school, he’d figured Steve was a lot taller than him—like most jocks, he’d had that early spurt of growth, Eddie guessed. Then Eddie had more of less caught up, and now..? Yeah, everything had changed, all his preconceptions thrown to the winds. Best of all, Steve had turned out to be a good dude.

Also, the best kisser ever.

They made out like their lives depended on it, tongues sliding together, slickly and keenly. Meanwhile, despite the hotness, all those sweet moments over coffee crammed together in Eddie’s head.

You are the highlight of my life… The light of my goddamn life! How come this took so long?

Then, as abruptly as it started, Steve broke the kiss. He staggered back into his stool, setting it rocking again. “Shit!”

“Oooookay.” Eddie felt like he’d been punched. “Used to that in gig write-ups, but—”

“Oh God, no… It’s not you. It’s so not about you. This was a terrible idea.” He knocked Eddie’s fingers from where they lingered on his hip, and sidestepped, placing the barstool between them.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s about me, Munson, so you can quit the goddamn kicked-puppy-dog eyes.” Erm, back at ya, Harrington. “I’m with another guy, okay?” He laughed, and somehow, it was one of the most miserable sounds Eddie had ever heard. “I didn’t think we’d… Look, I really shouldn’t have come.” 

With that, he bolted.

…

Eddie got to the diner super-early on Monday morning. He’d barely thought of anything other than Steve, who was no longer simply his secret crush. Or even the light of his life. 

Without exactly knowing why, Eddie was pretty much dying with worry for him.

Steve didn’t pour Eddie’s coffee. He dumped the pot on the counter, emoted unwelcomingly with hard-set features, and hurried off to take a table order. Which he then headed out back to prepare.

Eddie waited. He was gonna be late for work, and his boss would give him an earful, and he really couldn’t give a crap.

The diner emptied out, and eventually, Steve emerged from the back, mouthing:

“What the Hell?”

“I needed to see you, Steve.” Steve glared at him, and Eddie did a double take. Steve looked more exhausted than ever, shadows stark as bruises around his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Saturday was a big mistake. Huge. Had an argument with my boyfriend about it, that’s all. Scram, will you?”

Steve’s boss came out from the back. Steve emoted wildly again, shooed Eddie, and the truth dawned. And was slammed home when Dave slapped Steve’s butt—scowling at Eddie, as he did so—then grabbed Steve’s shoulders, spiralled him about, and shoved him off in the direction of another table awaiting service.

“Either you place another order, or get lost,” said Dave to Eddie.

Eddie ordered pancakes and waited.

“Dave? Seriously?” hissed Eddie, when he finally got Steve’s attention again. He begrudgingly admitted Dave was okay looking. All the same: “He’s a dick! And he’s gotta be old enough to be your dad.”

Steve edged close, talking so fast and hushed Eddie strained to follow. “My parents threw me out. I was on the streets! Dave was… good to me, took me in, and now… I’m kinda stuck. He takes my rent out of my wages, and there’s never anything left, and—”

“You need to get away from him, man.” Eddie felt sick. Somehow, he burbled it out: “Leave the son-of-a-bitch. Right now. You can crash with me.”

“You live in your uncle’s trailer! He’d be beyond thrilled, I’m sure, and Dave would…” Steve’s mouth hung open a moment. He’d what? Come after you? “Look, I’m okay. Dave’s all right, really. Gets grouchy sometimes, that’s all.”

Eddie spouts the next question before he can stop himself. “Do you love him?”

Steve tossed his arms up in despair: “What kinda dumbass question is that?” Yeah, Eddie wants to facepalm. In retrospect, it was truly dumb! “Look, he doesn’t know who I saw on Saturday, but he’s already bitching about you hanging around too much. Just fucking go already!”

Eddie didn’t drive on to the construction site. Instead, as his brain screamed, You’re batshit crazy, he pawned all his meagre possessions, even his beloved Warlock. His plan only faltered when Wayne caught wind of him going to a loan shark. His uncle literally dragged him from their office and insisted on lending Eddie all his scant savings.

Eddie refused. Wayne refused harder. They headed to the second-hand dealership and purchased the cheapest RV in the yard.

Next morning, Eddie trundled his rusty 1960s Volkswagen into the forecourt of Dave’s Diner. He gritted his teeth, squared his shoulders, and moseyed through the door like a gunslinger and about to unleash hell. One that was also trembling like jello, packing zero heat, and practically pissing himself.

“Got my own place now,” he said to Steve.

Steve looked mad, refused him even a coffee cup, though Dave didn’t seem to be around. Yet. “This isn’t happening, Eddie.”

“My place has got wheels, darlin’.” Eddie motioned to the RV outside, dropped his voice to an undertone. “It’s a big country. We can go anywhere. I’ll park up half-a-mile along the road. Wait all day. All night, if you need.”

Steve eked tight words from between gritted teeth: “Look, I don’t wanna sound ungrateful. It’s still a ‘no,’ man. You must have gone cuckoo. I mean, what about your band?”

Yeah, that brought a pang to Eddie’s chest: “Honestly? The rest of the guys are losing interest fast. I can fly solo. As long as you’ll fly with me?”

Dave strode out from the back. The flash of fear in Steve’s eyes cut Eddie to the quick, because it also hollered, You’re making things worse!

Oh God, what’ve I done?

“You’re barred,” yelled Dave at Eddie. “I see your long-haired loony mug one more time, you can kiss my fist.”

“Subtle you ain’t, asshat.”  Eddie retreated, literally a mangy, kicked dog. He drove the RV that half-a-mile along the road and waited. And waited. By midnight, he felt like his heart had been wrung dry, and eventually, he fell asleep.

A loud thudding roused him. He sat up, blinked at his unfamiliar surroundings and then… Shiiiit! He dashed to the door.

Steve perched on the step, his wide eyes glowing with something… unfamiliar. Some sparkle that might just be hope. He’d gotten a very small bundle slung over his shoulder.

“I hope you were serious?” asked Steve.

“Deadly serious, darlin’.”

Steve took Eddie’s face in his hands, and kissed him, briefly, almost chastely. Totally mind blowing. “So good to do that without feeling guilty,” he murmured, smoothing kiss-wetted lips together.

Eddie grinned; he wasn’t even quite sure if this was real: “Let’s get the Hell out of Dodge,” he said.

They hit the road, and they never looked back.

…

Three months later

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” cooed Eddie, as the Hawkins pawn shop owner handed his Warlock back across the counter. “I missed you soooo much.”

“Ugh, seriously?” bitched Steve, as soon as they exited the store. He blocked Eddie’s path along the sidewalk, planted his hands on his hips: “Should I be jealous?”

“Nah. We’re a proper family now.” With his guitar safely stowed in its case, he slung an arm around Steve, and they walked on toward where they’d parked the RV. “Tho’ when we get to Wayne’s, I might have a moment with my long-lost beloved. While you two watch the game.”

“No funny business, Sweetcheeks, or I’m absconding with a second-hand Yamaha keyboard.”

Eddie beamed broadly. It felt so weird, being back in Hawkins, and with hope, at least, for a better future. Not even having to worry about… “You know, I kinda want to thank Chief Hopper in person for arresting your douchebag ex.”

“Yeah, well, he put a guy in the hospital.” Steve shuddered. “They’ve charged him with attempted homicide.”

God, I’m so relieved it wasn’t you, thinks Eddie.

Steve rattled out a joyless laugh that Eddie hadn’t heard for some time, and said, “Jesus, I’m so happy it wasn’t you.”

Suddenly, Eddie’s eyes brimmed with tears. It’s too much. He can’t bear to think of what might have been. “Love you so much,” he blurted, fumbling for the keys for the RV. He couldn’t get up the steps and inside with Steve fast enough

“Love you too,” whispered Steve, once the door was closed, and sounding slightly choked, also. Which isn’t like him.

They clasped each other tighter than ever, and did their darndest to kiss the bad memories away.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddielovemonth #steve x eddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington whump #eddie x steve #eddie munson #steddie fanfiction

[makethatelevenrings]

Fuck up the Friendship // D. Grayson x AFAB!reader

Requested? Yes!

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ only!! Dacryphilia, consensual photos, slight degradation, sex toys, multiple orgasms

Summary: It’s just two friends helping each other get some frustration out. Until it isn’t. (Not titans!verse. He’s just hot.)

“Ah, shit.” The curse slipped out of your mouth just as your phone slipped out of your hand and clattered to the floor. You shot the offending object a withering glare and shifted the grocery bags in your arms. Maybe if you kicked it towards your door…

The door to the stairwell opened behind you and you looked up to find your neighbor and friend, Dick Grayson, staring down at your phone as well. He raised his gaze to yours and smirked at the sight of you drowning under Trader Joe’s bags.

“Need some help?” He didn’t wait to hear your answer and swooped down to grab your phone. He then grabbed the bag that was doing a balancing act in the crook of your elbow and caught your keys with his other hand just as they tumbled out of your loose grip.

“Thanks.” You took a chance to admire the flex in his shoulders as he raised your keys and unlocked your door. Clad in only a tank top and some shorts, Dick’s very well-proportioned physique was on full display and you gladly soaked in the sight of all that tanned skin and toned muscles.

He pushed open your door and waved you in, following close behind as you headed towards the kitchen to drop the bags off on the counter. Dick dropped your stuff onto the counter next to your stuff and immediately grabbed a water out of the fridge.

“Are you going to help me with this or are you going to just sit on the counter and look pretty?” you teased. He batted his lashes at you and grinned, leaning back against the fridge. Dick took a long drink from his water, tipping his head back and exposing the length of his throat. Your eyes strayed to the smooth skin there before you tore your gaze away and focused on pulling out your groceries for the week.

Who could blame you? The past five folks you had gone on dates with turned out to be duds, including the guy you had met for coffee earlier today. Just once, you wanted someone who didn’t make you want to cry tears of boredom or question if this was a safe decision as you made a hasty escape out of the bar. You could only work the edge off so much before your fingers started to lose efficacy.

And Dick Grayson was hot so sue you.

But he was also unattainable. I mean, as far as you were aware, he was single but he was also the son of Gotham’s billionaire bachelor. Dick had a face for the big screens and a body that anyone would want under or over them. He was just your neighbor and friend. That’s all.

“Didn’t you have that date today? How’d it go?”

Your response was holding up a frozen pizza and a bottle of wine. He winced and joined you in unpacking the groceries.

“That’s…what, five in four weeks?”

“At this rate, I’m never getting laid.”

He let out a low cough and then shook his head as if to clear his mind. You hid your smirk by facing the pantry to add some pasta and pancake mixes to the boxes cluttered there. Giving him an out, you changed the line of questioning.

“Go for a run?”

“Yeah.” He ran a hand through his dark hair and the locks fell effortlessly around his face like some fucking model. “Figured I could get some pent up energy out, y’know?”

“Mhm. Want a few slices?” You set the oven to preheat and loaded the pizza onto a tray. Dick considered it for a moment and then nodded. It was normal for the two of you to share dinner. Dick moved into the apartment next door three months after you did and after a series of run ins and one instance of borrowing sugar for cookies, the two of you struck up an easy friendship.

And then he had landed in your apartment in a skintight body armor suit and a stab wound in his thigh. Not much changed with the whole Nightwing revelation except the fact that you two grew much closer.

“Any plans tonight?” he asked as he poured you a glass of wine. He didn’t pour one for himself, something about not drinking and grappling. You snagged the glass and took a long sip before shrugging.

“Well, it’s just me and my rabbit vibrator tonight,” you joked. “I’ll probably catch up on Real Housewives or something. Just patrol tonight or do you have a target?”

“Just patrol,” he murmured. His bright blue eyes darkened slightly as you raised the glass to your lips and took a small sip. “I’ll probably be in earlier than normal tonight.”

“That’s good. Shoot me a text when you’re home, okay?”

True to his word, your phone buzzed at two in the morning when you were crawling into bed after a late night of shitty reality television and stress knitting. You shot off a text in response to Dick and set your phone on the nightstand, not thinking any more of it.

A knock sounded on the door.

Frowning, you stepped carefully to the door and peered through the peephole, finding Dick standing on the other side with damp hair and low hanging sweats. You yanked the door open and came face to face with his shirtless torso.

“Are you okay?” you asked. He stared at you for a moment and then let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head.

“This is stupid. Never mind.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, fully aware of the fact that you were only wearing panties and one of his old t-shirts that had gotten into your laundry somehow. Dick’s chest heaved with his next big breath and then suddenly he was kissing you.

Tilting your head up into his touch, you moaned into the kiss. It was gentle and hesitant, but once you began reciprocating, he increased the pressure. The kiss became more teeth than lips as the two of you fought for dominance.

Dick pushed you back as his calloused hands settled on your hips and held you steady. He kicked the door shut behind you and fumbled with the lock, all without breaking the kiss. You ran your hand up the ridges of his torso and pulled away from his lips as he mouthed at your jaw and the column of your throat.

“Fucking hell, Dick,” you gasped. He grinned against your skin and nipped at the junction between your neck and collar. He was having too much fun torturing you, you decided, and you shoved your hand down the front of his sweatpants, finding him commando underneath. A throaty groan escaped him as your hand enclosed around his hard cock.

“Two can play that game, birdy,” you taunted. His head fell back, lips parted in a silent moan as you stroked your fist up and down his length. Dick shuddered as cupped his balls and rolled them. 

He grunted and caught your wrist to stop your movement. His other hand grabbed your jaw, forcing your lips to part in an “o”. He spat onto your tongue and then crashed his lips against yours, licking your mouth clean. His hot tongue caressed yours, causing drool to pool at the corner of your lips as slick built between the folds of your cunt.

“Can we,” you panted as he finally relented from tongue fucking your mouth. “Can we at least move to the bed?”

Dick grabbed your thighs and hauled you up closer to the firm lines of his body. You shrieked and wrapped your arms around his neck as he settled a hand on your ass and squeezed. He carried you into the bedroom with ease and you were suddenly reminded that he was a fucking vigilante that wore skin tight spandex on the regular. How did he hide his cock in the suit?

You didn’t have time to think as you yanked your shirt over your head and tossed it into the corner of your room before latching your lips onto his once more. He tasted like mint toothpaste and you shuddered at the thought. Was he about to climb into bed when he saw your text and came over? Had he been fucking his fist, imagining it was the tight heat of a cunt wrapped around him?

“Tell me if you don’t want this.” Dick’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. He turned around so his back was to the bed and then he sat down, settling you on his lap. You bounced slightly and caught yourself by planting one hand on the headboard. He sucked in a sharp breath as the thin fabric of your panties ghosted along his shaft.

“I need to know,” you murmured. “Is this a one time thing?”

He gazed up at you with those crystalline blue eyes and you reached up to brush some of his raven locks out of his face. Dick pursed his kiss swollen lips and then sighed.

“I can’t do a relationship. Not with the life I live. It wouldn’t be fair to the other person.”

Your heart fell just a little, but you wouldn’t let that stop you from getting an orgasm or two. “So, I’m horny, you’re horny. The hookup scene in Bludhaven sucks. We’re just two friends helping each other.”

“Just two friends.”

“Who give each other orgasms.”

“We can even go get STI tests together.”

“Well now that’s starting to sound like a date.”

He grinned and tilted his chin up to kiss you, softer and slower than the heated rush in the kitchen. His rough and calloused hands, strengthened from years of acrobatics and crime fighting, ghosted along the soft flesh of your breasts. Dick bent his head and pressed a delicate kiss to each nipple. You gasped and thrust your chest up further as sparks shot through you. With a grin, he applied kitten licks along your tits as you fisted your hands in his hair.

“Either shit or get off the pot, Grayson,” you snarled, tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants. He raised his hips and let you slide them off.

“Condom,” he blurted out. You leaned over and ripped open the drawer to your nightstand where you kept condoms, lube, and your old friend, the vibrator. Dick smirked and reached back, grabbing the vibrator and a condom before you could argue.

“What’s the record number you’ve had on this thing?” he asked.

“Dunno. Two? Three? My wrist starts getting all cramped.”

A devilish grin flickered across his face and your breath caught in your throat. This was Nightwing, the first Robin. This was the vigilante that taunted mercenaries, crime lords, and intergalactic threats. This was the Gothamite who grew up with numerous siblings who all fought crime in their own way. This was the guy that saw a challenge and instead of running away, he faced it with a smirk.

Your chest rose and fell with heaving, gasping breaths as he pulled you down so he was lying on his back and then rolled you over so he was on top. Your legs parted without thinking and he sat back, his eyes studying carefully.

The first vibration shot through your clit and down your spine. You threw your head back with a soundless cry and he lowered the vibration until it brought you to the edge and kept you there. Your eyes burned with unshed tears as the waves of pleasure mixed with the frustrating realization that no matter what, you couldn’t come. You whined and bucked your hips against the tremors of the toy, but he held your hips down in place.

“Please, Dick,” you cried. Your cunt ached with want and your core was impossibly tight. He hummed and raised the setting just once. The growing knot in your stomach snapped and a tide of pleasure washed over you, setting your nerves on fire. Tears dripped down the corner of your eyes when you came down from your high and realized that he wasn’t pulling the vibrator away.

“That’s one,” he cooed.

“Sa-” your words were cut off with a breathy moan. “Sadist.”

“Oh, you’re just now finding this out?”

Your second orgasm built quickly and you clenched your teeth together as a high pitched whine tore past your throat. Dick watched in amazement as your pussy fluttered and clenched around nothing. Your entire body seized up as he titled the vibrator just a little to the right and it collided with the most sensitive part of your clit. Dick pulled the orgasm out of you with quick, coaxing movements that had your vision blurring. You were so fucking oversensitive that it felt like your first orgasm had barely finished when the second one started. He shut the vibrator off and gave you a chance to recover while he tugged off his pants.

“I gotta know what that pretty little pussy feels like wrapped around my cock,” he hummed, sliding his fingers along your slit and gathering the slick that pooled there. You laid boneless and sated on the bed, but didn’t protest when he manhandled you onto his lap and thrust up into you in one quick stroke. Broken moans escaped both of you in sync and you buried your face against his shoulder as he settled you on his cock.

“You feel just as good as I was hoping,” Dick growled.

“Shut up and fuck me, pretty boy,” you spat. “Or do you just leave every person high and dry?”

“You’re crying, you pathetic baby.” He brushed the tears off of your cheeks and then slid his thumb between your parted lips. You could taste him on his thumb and you obediently licked it clean before wrapping your lips around it and sucking. He watched in rapt attention, his eyes never leaving the sight of your glassy eyes, tear stained cheeks, and puffy lips wrapped around him.

You pulled off with a grin. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Can I? Seriously. I won’t show it to anyone else and I’ll keep it encrypted so only I can access it.” The thought of him in his apartment, on patrol, or somewhere on a mission with the Titans with his fist wrapped around his throbbing cock as he fucked himself to the sight of his control over you…

Your walls clenched around him and he grunted, rocking up into you instinctively. You grabbed his shoulders and nodded. Dick grabbed your phone off of the nightstand and grabbed your jaw with the other hand. Your lips parted once more and he shoved two fingers in your mouth. You blinked up at him from under your lashes, tears clinging to the bottom.

As he took photos, Dick fucked up into you in short thrusts, striking that one particular spot in you that had you gasping and clutching his wrists. He let his hand fall from your mouth and you collapsed forward, your forehead pressing against his shoulder as he fucked you open.

“Third time’s the charm, huh?” he rasped in your ear. “Next time, I’ll hold you down and spread you open. Play with you until you’re practically begging me. And then I’ll make you come on that vibe until you’re screaming my name.”

“God, you’re just as talkative in bed as you are out of it,” you groaned. He chuckled and started at a brutal pace. You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back as you took his continued thrusts with pure bliss. The rising tide of pleasure was building again and, thanks to the last two orgasms, was feeling like it would steal all the air from your lungs. Choking sobs poured from your lips as he grabbed your ass and pulled you deeper onto him.

“Dick, please. Dick, oh god, I can’t take it anymore. Please make me come. Please.”

“Shhh. Shhh, I gotcha, honey. I gotcha. You can come anytime you want. You’ll be a good girl and come, won’t you?”

You clenched desperately around him as he bucked wildly, finishing in the condom. Pressing your cheek against his shoulder, you hid your face in the column of his throat and sucked a hickey on his jaw as the orgasm subsided. Your walls were so sensitive that you whined in pain when he started to pull out and Dick froze before settling you down on him again.

“Jus’ give me a few minutes,” you slurred. He muffled a laugh against the top of your head.

“Alright, honey. Take all the time you need.”

It was just two friends helping each other out, that’s all. Dick Grayson gave mind blowing, leg shaking orgasms and received plenty in return. He also refused to leave you right after sex and insisted on staying until after he was content with your mental and physical state. It was just sex. Just the absolute best sex of your life with a Greek god.

After four months of some of the greatest sex ever, you woke up with a pit in your stomach as you realized that you were falling for your friend with benefits. You needed a fix and fast. Rolling over to grab your phone, you texted one of your old booty calls in the hopes that he would be interested in catching up. An hour later, you had plans to meet him at a bar that night.

Good. Great. Awesome. A distraction. A distraction and an orgasm or two that didn’t come from Bludhaven’s resident vigilante who was also incredibly flexible and profoundly giving. Also the same guy who was standing outside his apartment next door when you left to meet up with your date for the night.

“Hey,” you greeted as you locked the door. His eyes drifted over your body and he grinned.

“What time are you gonna be home tonight?” he asked, leaning his shoulder up against the door. You ignored the bulging muscles under the thin shirt he wore. The strong, very capable muscles.

“I’m actually meeting a, uh, a friend. I don’t know what time I’ll be back but um…don’t wait up, y’know?”

“Oh.” There was something strange in his voice, but you didn’t have the time to stick around and ask what was wrong. You were already running late as is.

“I’ll be sure to use a condom and get tested again,” you explained. “No worries there.”

“Right, right. Of course. Hey, if you want to leave or you need to walk home alone or something, let me know. And text me when you get home, okay?” He shoved his hands in his pockets and offered you a tight smile.

“For sure. Hey, is everything okay? You seem off.”

He laughed and shrugged once again. “Nah, I’m fine. Have fun.”

“Thanks, Dick.” You dropped your voice lower. “Stay safe tonight.”

He watched you as you disappeared behind the elevator doors. Dick watched the numbers descend before he dropped his forehead against his door.

Rule number one of friends with benefits: don’t fall in love with your friend.

He was never good with following the rules.

“Way to fucking go, Grayson.”

#dick grayson smut #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x reader #nightwing imagine #nightwing x reader #nightwing smut

[qveerthe0ry]

Misfire

Summary: Dieter gets waxed for a role and gets a little too excited. Word Count: 966 Pairing: Dieter Bravo x GN! Reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, dubious consent, body hair waxing, pain kink, humiliation kink (kinda), subby!Dieter, ruined orgasm, coming untouched, hands-free orgasm, reader does not engage in sex acts, mentions of alcohol, mentions of drug use, accidental exhibitionism, accidental voyeurism Note: I'm hoping this will be part of a long series of one-shots where I write Dieter as a pathetic little subby, desperate, whimpering mess. As of right now I don't have any big plans for what to write next, but I'm always down for suggestions ;) - Also, I had a hard time with the warnings on this one, don't hesitate to let me know if I missed something that needs tagged.

Dieter Bravo does not feel shame.

His entire schtick is doing whatever the fuck he wants, unapologetically. He hasn’t batted an eye at a tabloid headline in decades. 

But now… Now he feels like a fool. He’s gone and landed himself a really stupid part in a low-budget film about a bunch of old guys on an Olympic diving team. 

Which, first of all, ouch. He knows he has some years under his belt, but he wasn’t ready to be typecast into old guy roles this early on. 

But second of all, ouch again, because he’s gotta get a full body wax for this dud of a movie that’s inevitably going to sink anyway. 

And not ouch in a bad way, per se. But ouch as in he’s kind of really into the sting, and he’s ass naked on this cold table covered in paper, hard as a rock. 

Which was fine when he was turned onto his stomach. He was able to squish his cock in a not-so-pleasant way to stave off the desperation. 

But now you’re telling him to flip over, and he doesn’t want to move. Any other time he’d be dying to get his cock out and swing it around. But you’re just trying to do your job, and here he is, leaking onto your poor little waxing table, soiling it.

With a heaved sigh, he rolls onto his back, clambering all awkward on the small space. You’re turned away from him, preparing the next glob of hot wax, and his cock throbs. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, quiet and shameful, and you barely hear him.

“What’s that?”

Dieter can’t say it again. He just grumbles and covers his eyes with his arm as you fiddle with your waxing supplies and glance at him.

“Oh. It’s fine, happens all the time. I’ve seen worse.” 

That at least gets him to huff out a laugh. You sound unbothered, and it eases him a bit. 

“I’d hate to see worse,” he tries to joke.

You just hum in response. 

You start on his chest, though there’s not much to wax there. His armpits are ticklish, which makes him even harder. His cock bobs in the air, angry and red and neglected. He’s afraid to move, he’s afraid to breathe, he’s such a hair trigger. 

He starts thinking about all the directors he hates. He goes down the line, from his earliest project he can remember, and he’s about halfway through when you finally finish his shins and knees but it doesn’t help.

Your hand taps the inside of his thigh, prompting him to spread and bend, and the movement sends his cock lolling onto his stomach. It makes him jolt and suck in a deep breath. He can tell you’re trying to ignore it. He wishes he could. 

And fuck, he hasn’t gotten off in like, a week and a half, caught up between traveling and getting whiskey dick at that party and leaving his Cialis at his friends with benefits’ apartment. 

He jolts every time you wax the sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs. And every time he jolts, his cockhead rubs against his now smooth stomach. His dick is drooling. 

When you get to the well groomed, thank you very much hair at the base of his dick, you have to wipe away the obscene amount of pre-cum that’s pooled there. 

“Sorry,” he breathes again. 

“It’s okay,” you tell him, swiping the taut skin. 

It tugs on his dick. He whimpers. 

His knuckles are white now, gripping the edge of the table so hard he’s sure there will be permanent nail marks on the pleather. He’s biting his bottom lip, a metallic taste blooms inside his mouth. 

He’s lightheaded, between holding his breath and the fact that all his blood is in his dick, and his vision starts to tunnel a bit. Those tell-tale, fuzzy stars begin dancing around in the edges of his vision but promptly disappear when you grab his dick. 

The sound he makes is pitiful, a pathetic plea to his own body to stop betraying him. 

He chances a look down to see what you’re doing. One of your gloved hands holds his dick with just your thumb and forefinger, as professional as can be, while you spread wax across the wiry hairs just above it. 

He’s on the edge, his cock is jerking and pulsing between your two fingers, and if he can just make it past these next few minutes he can spill into his own hand as soon as you leave the room to let him dress. 

If only. 

You rip the wax from his skin, and it tugs on his cock and it hurts and it feels so fucking good. The pleasure shoots down his spine and he cries out a pathetic little whine. He’s barely able to push your hand away in time, breathing out an apology just as his prick jumps and releases a long, thick rope of cum. 

“I’m so sorry, fuck, s-sorry,” he pants. 

Tears prickle behind his eyeballs as he just keeps coming. There’s so much it’s almost comical, spraying the tender, reddened skin of his chest and belly.  You’re just staring too, completely emotionless, waiting for it to end so you can complete your job. 

Dieter whimpers again, biting his fist as he watches the last of his release dribble down his traitorous cock, then squeezes his eyes shut. A tear slips free, and he lets out a shuddering breath. This is the worst orgasm of his entire life, and that includes all the times he couldn’t help but rub one out with a UTI. 

You clear your throat, and you’re handing him a box of tissues. 

“I’ll let you clean yourself, then I’ll finish up.” 

He hears your impatient sigh as you leave the room.  Apparently Dieter Bravo can feel shame.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo fic #sub!dieter bravo #dieter bravo whimpering #I am going to put this man through the TRENCHES