#let me nom your brain
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good morning angels !! we're grabbing the last of our stuff today, then moving will finally be over ! ᡣ𐭩 i'll be reachable on discord, &. once we're done i fully plan on letting cecily off her leash hehe ᡣ𐭩
#she's like a raccoon with rabies ...#let her nom on your muses today#come plot with me !!!#i have cecily on the brain#ˋ ⁽ 𝔠͢.͢𝓃. ˡ ˡ ˡ ♱ ˡ ˡ ˡ ░ 𝐢 ‚ druid speaks . ₎
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Not me abusing the asks to both share my love for the bioparents AU AND rant about the panels because none of my friends are in the LMK fandom and I'm suffering here so TAKE MY LOVE AND APPRECIATION ABOUT YOUR ART I guess x)
So first of all

I am a SUCKER for that kind of leaning in frames I'm going to print that and plaster it on my wall THEY ARE EVERYTHING /hj
I almost jumped of my chair when this one popped up YOU FED US GOOD its so worth the angst train incoming. Of course the panels before and after were equally as amazing but if I start going about every single panel we're still here in three days AT THE VERY LEAST LOL

Of course this one made me laugh like please their little faces
Using that to point out how much I love ALLLLLLL the silly faces you put in your comics I'm munching on them every single time they're crushy like chips or something just. Nom nom. Yummy.
Poor Nesha (Nesha? Nezha? Neja? I have no idea on how to write his name I already forgor LMAO) needs to be payed more. He tries to save MK and ends up dealing with two lovesick teenagers demons who have no concept of time/place/occasion apparently. Poor him. He gets a pat on the head for his troubles

And of course just the "NOPE I'M KEEPING HIM" mode and honestly we should have seen it coming- Red son was planning to courtnap him and didn't sleep in the past 5 days so he's not having any bullshit YOU'RE NOT TAKING HIS NOODLE BOY AWAY-
Could bet he spent so long thinking about the cournapping in the 5 past days his brain just cannot process that yeah maybe you need to let him down you're just going to drag him in more troubles- Either that or he's just going full protective mode. Both options are good anyways sooooo :)
We stan a protective boyfriend in this house.
---
And finally I'm SOOOOO hyped about whatever is coming next like I know that technically we're supposed to suffer but please I climbed up the angst train so many times now I'm just enjoying it by that point lol. It'll just make the following fluff even more worth it
Also I cannot wait to see MK's plan about the contract I'm so curious I'm dying I love you boys but I really want the plot to progress you can go back to kissing later lol
Finally, thank you for creating this AU. It's stumbling randomly upon it on my tik tok fyp that dragged me into watching Lego Monkie Kid and really THANK YOU FOR THAT. It's such an amazing show I CANNOT BELIEVE I didn't discovered it sooner so really thank for having created this comic because else I could have missed LMK and that would be just saaaad
Fun fact: since I had never interacted with LMK the first time I read your comic, I for some reason thought Macaque was a female (and I probably would have thought the same of Wukong if he wasn't called... well, Wukong because I randomly stumbled upon the myth's Wikipedia page at some point in my life XD). The shock I felt when I heard Macaque for the first time in the show because his voice was soooooo not what I expected x) I'm still laughing at myself to this day
So yeah, from the bottom of my heart, thank you, and I can't wait to see what you're going to pull next :D Wish you allllll the best <3
(I can totally wait, of course, it's just a figure of speech. Take your time, I could wait forever for the next chapter)
ahaha thank you for such a lovely comment!! Glad the scene gived "MINE" vibes as I was planning ahah.
Youu're welcome! It's an honor to serve this fandom. *bows*
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—❝GIDDY FEELING❞
𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 damian wayne x fem!reader, youtuber!reader au, fluff, 2.6k+ wc.
𝑠𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠 reader and damian finally connect on instagram, leading to a sweet, slightly awkward chat that ends with damian inviting her to gotham-and her saying yes. pt. 5 of "unexpected crush?!" 2 3 4
Was this guy dense or something?!
It had been well over an hour since Damian and ___ had followed each other on Instagram. So why hadn’t he texted her yet?
Was he waiting on her to make the first move?
Did he fall asleep?
Could he smell her breath through the phone and got scared off when she followed him?
—Okay, that sounded ridiculous. Ugh! She couldn’t help but be ridiculous, though.
This guy was literally stunning. And rich, too—like, everything he sent her? $$$ >>>
And don’t even get her started on his abs—nom nom nom—
What did he train for? Olympic godhood? Being blessed by the divine?
‘Come on.’
‘Come on.’
‘Come onnnn, pleaseeee.’
From pacing around her room to collapsing on her vanity like a grouchy cryptid, ___ was not doing well.
With a loud sigh, she slid off and faceplanted onto the soft mattress of her bed.
‘Welp. That’s it. Just a cruel joke—’
Ding
Her heart leapt into her throat. Her eyes darted to her screen:
Damian sent you a message.
“Thank you LORD!”
She scrambled for her phone, hands shaking with excitement, a warm blush spreading fast over her cheeks. Giddiness buzzed through her.
"Hello. I'm Damian Wayne. You may call me Damian. I just wanted to let you know I like your content."
Oh wow. He sounded a bit... snobby.
Then again, he was rich.
Her giddiness dipped—but not her hope.
‘So... he’s a fan. I mean duh. He said that in his letter…’
.
.
.
‘THE LETTER! That’s it! You, dear Damian, can be as nonchalant as you want, but I have proof you’re smitten with me. Hehehehehe... Muahahahahaha—’
She tapped out a reply:
"Why the nonchalance, Dami? Don’t seem so in the letter you sent me. wink wink"
She immediately screamed into her pillow after sending it. Was she really flirting with the literal cutest guy ever—who also happened to live oceans away? Yes.
Did she care?
Yeah. She was terrified. But she had to be LeBron James and shoot her shot. Because right now, all he was being was Franz Kafka, writing letters with no action.
"Ah. You read it. I mean, of course you have. I'm sorry for being so... brass."
"Quite the opposite. You were romantic. And I liked it. A lot."
Minutes passed without a reply. Her knee bounced impatiently.
Then a small GIF popped up in the chat: a blushing kitty with "thanks" written underneath.
OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG
He was so... freaking cute.
"I'm flattered. I hope you liked the present as well. A small token of appreciation. Your videos bring me peace. I hope my present gave you as much happiness as you’ve given me peace."
She almost blacked out from the short-circuiting of her heart, brain—her entire existence.
His words... the way he typed...
His modesty. His gentleness. His respectfulness.
‘Okay... I need to chill.’
She got up, went to the mirror, and stared at her tomato-red face. Then shuffled into the bathroom, running cold water over her hands and pressing them to her cheeks, then her neck.
How could she respond? She wanted to sound respectful, but still flirt—just a little.
Ding
Her phone lit up again.
She rushed over.
"I was wondering if… you’d be interested in coming to the U.S.? More specifically—here. Gotham. Where I live. I’d love it if we could meet. Maybe for coffee?"
Oh wow.
She blinked.
She was flattered... but—
How was she supposed to explain that she couldn’t afford to travel? That she was broke broke?
Like—“sorry dudez, me no money, me brokey”???
Then another message came in:
"I’ll pay for it. For everything. I want to meet you. It doesn’t have to be now. But… hopefully in the future? We can see each other through video in the meantime. Get to know each other."
And then, as if reading her mind:
"I promise I’m not a creep. You saw my account, yeah? I... just want to... get to know you. In a... more romantic manner, if possible."
Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum
Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum
Her heartbeat thundered. She felt lightheaded.
He was being direct. With her.
But still... respectful. Thoughtful.
Her fingers trembled slightly as they hovered over the keyboard. She kept glancing back up to make sure his messages were still there, that she wasn’t hallucinating.
She reread her message before sending it.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
"Sure. I’d love that, Damian. I’d love to meet you."
In that moment, ___ felt like they were both leaning closer to their screens. Trying to close the distance. Trying to feel near, even though they were far.
Did he feel it too?
All she said was that she’d like to meet him—but somehow, it felt like a confession.
Sure. I’d love that, Damian. I’d love to meet you.
I’d love that, Damian. I love you.
She flopped back on the bed, letting her phone rest on her chest and an arm fall over her eyes.
‘What are you doing to me, Damian Wayne…?’
▬▬ι═══════ﺤ
𝑏𝑢𝑏𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑔𝑢𝑚444©
𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 <𝟑
╭────────────────────.★..─╮
🏷️;
@liabiamiakiawia @jason-todd-fangirl-14
@shirp-collector-of-fixations @1abi
@nervousalpacalady @silverklaus
@riaaavm @queenofviolenceandnerds
@noecyan @theonlyjuggernaut @iiriam5
★
author's note 1: pov: reader waiting 4 dami to message her
╰─..★.────────────────────╯
#𝑔𝑔𝑢𝑚𝑖'𝑠 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𓇢𓆸#dc comics#dc comics x reader#dc x reader#x reader#dcu#damian al ghul#damian wayne#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne x female reader#damian wayne x you#damian wayne fluff
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˚₊‧꒰ა 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 ໒꒱‧₊˚
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⟡ Dieter Bravo x F!Reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⟡ 5064
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⟡ It's Emmy night. And your infamous ex-boyfriend is stirring up all kinds of trouble for you.
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ⟡ Hi ho, everyone!! This piece is for Gin's ( @wannab-urs ) Dom That Middle Aged Man Campaign 2025!! I'm cutting it incredibly close but I actually ended up having a lot of fun with this one. It started as a smaller oneshot but quickly grew bigger and bigger until hey, whaddya know, Roman Roy is making a little cameo. Blame @strang3lov3 for that lol. Her writing for Roman has made that brain rot really settle in and I needed an asshole boyfriend for this one soooo uhhhh yeah. He is in there!! Anyhoo, here is the full masterlist for the event!! Hope y'all enjoy!!
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⟡ smut (minors, do not interact), minimally edited lol, a tiny bit of angst, no reader description given aside from reader wearing makeup and being able-bodied, one minor suicide joke, toxic relationships, shaky descriptions of the goings on of award shows (sorry, I do not keep up with them well enough to know everything <3), mentions of addiction, infidelity (reader is in a PR relationship, shoutout to Roman Roy lmao), oral, heavy mommy kink lol, pegging, some fluffy aftercare, reader is a fucking mess, dieter is a fucking mess, it's all chaos, nothing else I can think of but feel free to let me know if anything else should be added!!
“Sure you’re going to be ready in time?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Roman pops his head into the hotel bathroom. “I dunno, isn’t that a woman thing?”
“It is if you’re a misogynist.” You say before blotting your lipstick.
“Or a realist. Veeeery fine line, babe.”
You roll your eyes. Part of you wishes Roman had never been nominated.
Outstanding Lead Actor In A Drama.
When you were younger, awards shows always seemed so exciting and glamorous. Sometimes they still are. But as you built up your career and were invited to more of them you had come to realize that they were little more than glorified circle jerks. Sadly, being Roman Roy’s costar and girlfriend obligated you to attend.
You wish your publicist had booked a separate room for you so Roman wouldn’t wind you up. At this point though, you were counting the days until you no longer had to be joined at the hip. Once awards season was over you could move on from this chapter of life. Maybe you’d hide away for a while. The thought keeps you from going completely insane.
The car ride to the theater is quiet. Roman scrolls through his mentions on Twitter the whole way. A few times you assure him that it’ll be alright, that he worked so hard that he’s sure to win. None of that reassurance matters.
He’s been glued to his phone since the nominations dropped. For almost two whole months it’s been a shitshow. One minute he’s stressing about what he should say for his acceptance speech and the next he doesn’t give a shit. A few times he floated the idea of skipping the event altogether. That usually only happened when the D word came into the conversation.
Dieter fucking Bravo as Roman liked to call him.
Roman hates a lot of things. But god, he really hates Dieter. Roman’s young. He’s talented. And Dieter is…well…Dieter.
“How the fuck did that washed up prick get a nom? Asshole finally managed to find someone in the academy desperate enough to fuck him.” Roman said when he first learned that he’d be competing with Dieter. You’d ignored the pointed insult in that outburst. It wasn’t the comparison of talent or rap sheets that heated Roman up so much as the fact that you and Dieter weren’t strangers. Before he turned it all to shit, you and Dieter had dated for one tumultuous year.
Roman cares for you about as much as you care for him, that much you’re sure of. It’s the optics that bother him. It’s the fact that for almost two months, almost every Twitter user talking about him makes the assumption that Roman Roy is just a stepping stone. That you’d soaked up every bit of clout dating Dieter Bravo could give you. And that now you’d jumped to the next big thing in line.
While some folks called you a slut and a number of other awful names, some raised you to the status of feminist icon.
“‘Sucking and fucking her way through the Emmy nominees.’” Roman read to you one night in disgust. “”What a girlboss.’ Are you seeing this shit? They’re saying you’re probably going after Jeff Bridges next. You better not fuck Jeff Bridges. If you fuck Jeff Bridges, I’ll fucking hang myself.”
You try not to care too much. If being with Dieter had taught you anything it was that the media thrived off of acknowledgement. If you responded to the accusations, every outlet would release an article about it. And then another one about the backlash. And then another one about the backlash to the backlash. Then they’d roll shitty banner ads over the whole thing and call it journalism.
Not even you, yourself, gave that much of a shit about your own sex life. You’d much rather mind your own business than feed into their interest, thank you very much.
It’s why you couldn’t wait to get the carpet walk over and done with. It’s the closest thing to a goddamn parade and Roman’s desire to cut your prep time short has you feeling less than your best.
You’re in your own head, watching Roman get his picture taken by the paparazzi flash mob, and dreading your turn to join in when you’re rudely interrupted.
“He looks like he’s enjoying himself.”
You almost agree until you turn to look at who had just spoken to you.
Dieter fucking Bravo. And he looks fucking gorgeous.
You can hardly remember the last time he looked so put together. His wavy hair is gelled back, accentuating the stray silvers that he finally seems to be letting grow out. He wears a white shirt that’s buttoned up to the neck. The solid white collar is framed by a black sweater. And for once he’s not wearing pants that are too tight or too baggy; these ones are just right. The look is simple but graceful, perfect for a star settling into middle age. If things were different, you’d kiss his stylist with tongue and maybe give them a handjob for blessing you with such a glorious sight. Pressing your nails into the palms of your hands, there are a number of things you think to say.
What are you doing here? How dare you? What the fuck is wrong with you?
But none of them sound right. None are befitting of such a glamorous night either.
So you settle for replying coldly, “Are you not?”
Dieter snorts and you melt upon seeing the crinkles by his eyes in full force. “Are you kidding? I’m shocked they even invited me. Who’s dying to wheel out the washed up old guys for shit like this?”
“Thank god we’re in Hollywood; the mecca for washed up old men,” you scoff.
If Dieter acknowledges the joke, you don’t hear or see it. Your eyes are glued to Roman, afraid that if you look back at Dieter again they might just pop out of your head.
Roman
Out of the blue he asks, “He isn’t even nice to you, is he?”
It’s a question that makes you scoff and roll your eyes. How dare he? He goes away for a few months and after two years of image fixing he thinks he has any right to ask that? The old urge to swing around and give him a piece of your mind strikes you again. As the cameras flash, you become very aware that even at your place at the periphery of the carpet, a snapshot of you arguing with your ex would make a great TMZ article.
You mumble, “What he is is none of your business.”
“I was nice to you,” Dieter says, then repeats to himself, “I was nice.”
You retort with a laugh, “When you weren’t high off your ass.”
“Don’t pretend you weren’t either.”
Like you need to be reminded of how hellish it was trying to be with him and subsequently get over him. You remember taking old gifts he’d given you to the secondhand store. You remember deleting almost every trace of him from your phone. You remember the nights you struggled to stop yourself from making contact again. It had been a long, uphill battle to wash away the single most chaotic year of your life and you weren’t sliding down it again.
“We’re not having this conversation again. I hated myself when I was with you. And I’m not going back to that place. I’ve worked too hard for you to come crashing in and ruining that.” You say it more to yourself than him.
With that, you’re ushered over to Roman where you pose with him. And you almost manage to give a genuine smile to the masses.
When you’re finally seated in the theater, the night rolls on with the typical fanfare. You give your prescribed reactions; cheer when your show is called for an award and smile when you notice a camera near you. A few times Roman leans over to mumble some snotty joke about whoever’s on stage and that deep, cynical part of you manages to laugh at them.
At the very least, it makes him less nervous. That’s how you justify it to yourself.
He’s in the middle of another wisecrack when the woman at the microphone pulls Roman’s attention away. “I’m proud to announce the nominees for Lead Actor In A Drama Series.”
You don’t bother watching the giant screen as clips of the nominees play. You already know damn good and well who’s up on the platter for this one. Instead, much to your dismay, your gaze is trained on Dieter.
He’s a row ahead of you and about a dozen seats to the right so you only get a sliver of his profile. From the bits and pieces you get of his bobbing head, his jaw looks tense. In the silence that precedes the announcement you notice just how age has settled upon Dieter. With his hair a little longer and head held high he looks just like the man you once saw within him. It suits him well.
“And the Emmy goes to…”
Some small piece of you peers out from the shadows of cynicism and your lips curl into a soft smile. As uncomfortable as he seemed to be amongst this crowd, Dieter finally looked well; he looked hopeful.
“Roman Roy!”
Turning back towards Roman you expect a kiss, a squeeze of your hand, some sort of acknowledgement that you’re right there beside him. Anything. But he’s standing and walking towards the stage before you can even say a word.
Normally you treasure your alone time. This time though, the empty air truly feels depressing.
Part of you wishes Roman had come back to the hotel with you. But another part of you is grateful you won’t have to listen to his gloating. Or his “celebration”, as he called it.
You can’t stop replaying the moment over and over again. The way your breath seemed stuck in your throat as you watched him deliver his bullshit acceptance speech. He shed a genuine tear when thanking his mother; you’d known him long enough to recognize his shreds of sincerity.
For the most part, however, he’s performing. After all, that’s what got him the award to begin with.
Knowing that there’s a camera capturing your reaction you plaster on a toothy grin. While Roman plays the part of the humble award winner, you play the proud girlfriend though you feel more like a prop than his costar.
None of it matters either way. At the end of the night, you knew that Roman’s speech would be clipped and reposted thousands of times online. Maybe then he’d get the validation he seems to have been craving his entire life.
That’s why he decided to stay at the afterparty, you figured. Maybe it’s also why you were already seeing clips of him at said afterparty proclaiming with a smug grin, “Suck it, Bravo.” Validation from his peers. The why of it all didn’t matter either. You’d had enough of pathologizing the men around you for one night.
Well. Almost enough.
The thought of Roman’s absence departs and Dieter’s presence worms its way back into your mind.
You’d never had a proper sendoff for your relationship with him. Instead you got stood up on a night he was supposed to meet you for dinner. That night you vowed you would no longer drag him out from a drug induced haze. You went nuclear; blocked him, stopped going to his house, revoked his access to your apartment building.
Through the grapevine you heard that he’d finally crashed out a few months afterwards and got shipped off to rehab. Then from there it was close to silence. The post-Dieter life was calm, if a bit predictable.
You pick up your phone from the nightstand and go through your blocked contacts until you find his name. And after nearly two years of being Dieter free you invite him right back into your life.
You half expect the message to go ignored. He might not even have the same number anymore anyways. Right as you’re about to block him again out of pure embarrassment, you see those three telltale dots pop up on the left side of the screen. They ripple for a few seconds before a reply appears.
If he were in front of you, you would’ve rolled your eyes. You quickly type out a response.
You can practically hear the shock Dieter must’ve experienced in how the message stays read for a solid two minutes before he answers again.
Of course, you wanted to scream. I missed you so bad that I binged the entire series and then looked up fanfiction of your character afterwards.
Just like before, the message stays read for a few minutes. But this time the typing dots on his end disappear and come back a few times. You end up laying your phone facedown on the bed so you wouldn’t throw it across the room. Eventually your ringtone chimes and you pick it up again.
Your stomach drops about a thousand miles down an awful pit of guilt until your memory slows it down. As much as his big brown eyes might suggest it, Dieter isn’t some helpless puppy dog. How many times had he fucked you over before? How many times did he force you to take care of his messes? And how many times did you grin and bear it because you loved him? Maybe it was nostalgia. Maybe it was the need for some sort of closure. Or maybe it was the fact that you weren’t going to go through another night ignored and alone. But you impulsively type and send another message.
And much to your surprise, Dieter replies immediately.
From the second you pull Dieter into your hotel room you feel alive again. His lips are against yours and your stomach soars at the way he lets you deprive him of oxygen. You missed him more than you had even fathomed. You missed his eagerness. You missed the way his hands went straight to your ass. You missed his tongue. God, you could suck on his tongue right then and there and die happy.
The muffled groan he lets out when you tug on his hair reminds you the hotel room door is still partially opened. It hits you for a split second that someone easily could’ve followed him here. By morning the media could be all over whatever happens in this room tonight.
Dieter pulls away for air. As he cups your cheek and gives you that classic mischievous smirk he says, “Hi there.”
And suddenly…you don’t give a shit. Not about Roman or the media or your publicist. You’ll deal with the consequences later. Probably. But for now, it’s all Dieter fucking Bravo. And for once, that was a good thing.
Breathlessly, you command, “Get on the bed. Now.”
Dieter hadn’t felt this antsy since his last stint in rehab. With the way he was practically crawling under his skin he was surprised he made it to your hotel in one piece.
It would’ve been quite a headline if he had. Oscar Winner, Dieter Bravo, Dead at 45 After Losing Emmy. If only those leeches could see him now. The headline would probably read Oscar Winner, Dieter Bravo, Naked and Ass Up On Ex-Girlfriend’s Bed.
It hits him that he has no idea where your boyfriend is. For all he knows this is some sick joke you and him devised just so you could kick him while he’s down. Did you still despise him that much? Taking a mental inventory of everything he did when you were together…it was a possibility.
You didn’t even ask if he was busy. For all you know, he could’ve been out drowning his disappointment with as many prescription pills he could get his hands on. That’s what the old Dieter would’ve done. Old Dieter would have answered your texts between lines in the bathroom before speeding to your hotel room. New Dieter was watching reruns of X-Files in his bathrobe when you rang. Yet he still came running anyway.
He realizes that he probably always would.
Dieter’s swirling mind is soothed by your lips leaving kisses along his shoulder blades. Your fingers dance down his spine, creating waves of shivers in their wake. He stifles a contented hum. Can’t show his cards yet; can’t let you know that he’s just as pliable as he used to be for you.
He suspects you know it anyways when you purr, “You remember your place so well.”
Quiet. He stays so quiet he can hear a pin drop. Hell, he can practically hear your lips twitch as you observe him.
As he got older, Dieter found less and less joy in being watched all the time. Those greedy eyes only see him as prey. And tonight was another one of those reminders that no matter how much he tried he’d never again be the promising young actor the world had once adored.
But you liked him. You saw him for exactly what he was and you liked him. Even more, you rewarded him.
“Do you want to be good for me?” You ask tentatively.
He’s heard you say similar things more than a hundred times. Now they sound less like an invitation and more like a test. You’re testing the waters. As if him being naked on your bed wasn’t enough confirmation that he wanted you. Then again, you’ve always been that forgiving; always given him second, third, and fourth chances.
He lifts his head just enough so you can hear him clearly when he confirms, “Yes, please.”
With that, the weight of your body over his is gone. When you order him to flip over a minute later you stand before him with a familiar instrument. Judging by the size and color, he knows it isn’t the same strap you used to use on him, but it’s a welcome sight nonetheless. It’s a soft pink color with ridges that shine in the warm lamplight. He guesses that it’s likely between six and seven inches. But it’s the subtle curve of the cock that has his mouth practically watering just looking at it. Already he can’t help but imagine it inside him, reaching that spot only you were able to.
“You’re lucky I happened to pick this up the other day. Otherwise you would’ve been stuck with my fingers.” You say with a pout.
Dieter thinks for a second that you’ve got an odd idea of what qualifies as a souvenir but brushes the thought away. He blinks hard and swallows thickly. “I would’ve been fine with that,” he mumbles.
You climb back onto the bed and settle between his legs. Then you inch forward so close that he could kiss you again. Your breath is warm on his face when you whisper, “Bullshit.”
You plant a kiss on his cheek before continuing slowly, “Don’t think I forgot how much you love getting stuffed to the brim. You used to love sucking on my cock before I fucked that perfect ass of yours. Do you want that again, baby?”
He nods quickly.
“Then sit up a bit for me.”
Dieter does as he’s told and you straddle his chest. His hands find purchase around the soft flesh of your thighs. You shake your hips and the dick wobbles ever so slightly. The bulbous tip teases his lips.
“She’s pretty, isn’t she?”
“So fucking pretty…” he breathes.
Stifling the urge to take it all at once, he settles with some experimental licks. His tongue runs down the ridges along the underside. It’s firm but not rock solid; it feels almost like the real thing. A shudder runs through him imagining the thing inside him. He feels his own cock twitch.
“C’mon, you can do better than that. Get me all wet, baby,” you encourage.
Dieter’s lips part tentatively, allowing you to shift your hips forward and nudge your cock in. You moan as if you can feel the relief of his warm mouth around you. Something in his stomach fizzles at the thought of you getting off on watching him be like this.
“That’s it, take it…take it…”
He looks up, wide-eyed, and sees you gazing back with similarly entranced eyes. Your chest heaves gently as you breathe, drinking in the picture of him beneath you with your cock almost halfway in his mouth.
Dieter ventures further, pushing your hips towards him, allowing him to take another inch. You take that as a sign to slowly start thrusting.
“Good boy,” your voice is velvet as you fuck his mouth. You set a reverent, rolling rhythm, trying not to overwhelm him with the length. Despite the normally submissive position, he feels held, loved, though he tries not to get his hopes up.
He remembers this all too well; the sway of your hips and the small sighs you let out. Judging by those sounds, he guesses that you’re probably a mess yourself. His vivid imagination pictures the slick folds between your legs just begging to be squeezing him. God, how he used to make you whine and sob. But you could make him do the exact same.
“Think it’s as wet as it’ll get, huh?”
His agreement is muffled by the instrument itself and you giggle before removing it from him.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replies.
He folds and spreads his legs instinctively, though from a combination of age and lack of practice, the movement is a little strained. To ease his muscles he plants his feet on the mattress and grasps the sheets in his balled fists. In other words, he’s prepared to hold on for dear life if need be.
The seductive tone in your voice turns a bit more serious. “I’m gonna start slow. And if it hurts or you want to stop at all, you better let me know, okay?”
Dieter nods.
“Hey, I’m not playing around. I don’t want to hurt you. I need to hear you acknowledge that if this is too much you’ll tell me. Alright?”
This time he clears his throat, looks you dead in the eye, and responds, “I will. I promise. I trust you.”
You let out a shuddering breath. And it makes him realize that even with the confident demeanor, you’re likely nervous too. It strikes him that you probably haven’t done this in a while either. It makes sense that Roman wasn’t brave enough to take a cock like yours. Lucky for him, Dieter was all too willing to take the bullet in this instance. Suck it, Roy.
You prod at his hole with your tip, dipping it in and out about an inch to test the waters. As relaxed as Dieter is, he knows he’s out of practice. Fucking himself after you left had always felt a bit awkward. He desired the connection more than the feeling; your low voice coaxing him along the path to pleasure and cradling him in your arms when the journey was done. Doing it to himself always left him feeling a little emptier than before so he tended to avoid it.
Though it’s slimmer than the ones he was used to you using, it still takes a minute for him to become acquainted with the fullness of your cock again while you start to slide further in. There’s never really been anyone else he’s trusted without fear that they’d run to their social media with all the details.
You’re the only one who knows just how he likes it. With a few slow, deep thrusts you know exactly how to draw a few sharp gasps from him. You know it’ll make him whine when you dig your fingers into his hips and praise, “You take my cock so well, baby.”
Once the stretch of you feels a bit more tolerable he gurgles something akin to encouragement.
“You’re just aching for my cock aren’t ya’, sweetheart?” you tease, your confidence slowly returning.
“Pleas– please fuck me,” he moans.
“What’s my name?”
That’s the easiest question of them all. “Mommy,” Dieter blurts, “Please, mommy.”
The name seems to activate you,
“C’mon,” you pant, “I want the neighbors to hear how good you’re getting fucked. Let them hear you, baby.”
He has no trouble with that. If there is indeed someone in the room next door, he knows that they’re getting the performance of their fucking lives. Strings of his incoherent babble paired with the bang of the headboard against the wall.
“You wanna touch yourself now? Can mommy see you touch that pretty cock of yours, huh?”
Without another word, Dieter’s hand flies to his neglected dick. Even the slightest bit of pressure from his fist around the base nearly makes him sob. He’s so desperate to relieve the throbbing need in his belly that he begins pumping at an almost brutal pace. Mere seconds before he feels like the cord is about to break, you lay your own hand over his and stop him abruptly.
He lets out a sharp breath through his nose in defiance and is about to protest when you chide, “Ah, don’t get greedy, baby. Go nice and slow so mommy can really watch you.” You let go of him and continue, “It’s been so long since mommy has seen you come hard. And we’re going to make that happen, we have to be patient. Can you do that? Be patient for mommy?”
He nods feverishly.
“Say it.”
“Yes, mommy.”
Dieter tries his best to pace himself. He tries to time each drag of his fist with the drag of your cock inside of him. His body sways with the movement and if he didn’t feel so on edge, he thinks he could probably fall asleep like this; being fucked into oblivion by you.
He can’t even remember the last time he’d felt so warm and wet and safe. Probably since the last time you were on top of him.
His lidded eyes meet your expression. A few drops of sweat have formed on your forehead. You bite your bottom lip and you stare down at where your cock disappears inside of him. True to your word, you watch him slowly milk his own cock. And he swears that between small grunts he can hear you moan softly.
A bit of pride bubbles in Dieter’s chest knowing that you still crave this the same way he does. You’re just as fucked as he is; just as far gone. And he finds himself starting to slip farther and farther down the pit too.
“F-fu-u-ck– I’m so fucking…sofuckingclose–” he pants. That familiar rush of pleasure in his abdomen threatens to spill over. He knows he’s only got a few seconds until he lets go entirely. He doesn’t wait to be told to ask first. He begs, “Please, please, please, let me cum…holy fuck–”
You’re breathing so hard and so focused on hitting him just right that it takes a moment for you to gather yourself enough to respond. But you do. And Dieter is on the brink of sobbing when you whine, “Go ahead, baby. Make a fucking mess of yourself.”
Those words are the green light for him to fuck his fist a little faster, urging forward that long awaited release. Dieter’s back arches. And with your cock still sliding in and out of him, the slightly altered path makes him see the fucking heavens. God bless the Emmys. God bless the Television Academy. God bless Roman Roy. God bless whoever invented that beautiful, curved, pink cock. And God bless you, his favorite angel, for fucking him onto paradise’s doorstep with it.
Ropes of his thick spend shoot across his stomach. As your thrusts and his movements slow, each spurt begins to slowly spill over his fist. He milks every last drop of cum that he can from his softening cock; you wanted a mess, after all.
Dieter groans when you eventually pull out of him. Closing his heavy eyes, he allows himself to feel just how completely spent he is. Every one of his limbs are jelly. Exhausted but contented jelly.
Soon afterwards you pad away to the bathroom, likely going to retrieve a towel and straighten yourself up a little. When you return and begin to clean up the last hour’s work, he can’t help but notice your expression.
Your jaw is slackened and soft. You part your lips as if in pride at the result of this impulsive act. Though you’d been firm before, you were still so gentle with him. Your melodious hum fills the room with a comforting atmosphere. He missed this. He missed you.
When you both finally settled in bed, it felt as though little time had passed between this tryst and the last. There’s a comfortable silence as you brush a few strands of his hair away from his face and tuck it behind his ear. Your hand lingers for a moment on the side of his head. You hum and press your lips to his for a soft kiss.
Amongst the tangle of limbs, one of his legs is nestled between yours. For a second he wonders if you two hadn’t cleaned up as well as you thought until it hits him that the wetness on his thigh is from you.
He breaks away with urgency and you give him a confused expression. “I’m sorry. Do you want me to-? I think I can get hard again. Just give me a minute to-”
You sigh and hold him, keeping him still. “Dee, it’s okay. You don’t need to do anything.”
“Are you sure? I can go down on you if you want.”
“Hey, what did I say about being greedy, huh?” You laugh. “I’m too tired anyways.”
Dieter’s heart sinks until you continue, “We can do that tomorrow. Before breakfast? How’s that sound?”
He pulls you closer to his chest and chuckles, “I can do that.”
“You sure can pencil that into the schedule?” You tease.
“Oh, I’m not missing that appointment. Trust me.” With a hard swallow he admits, “Been waiting for that opening for a long time.”
Your voice reverberates against his ribcage when you reply, “Me too, Dee. Me too.”
Please consider commenting and/or reblogging if you enjoyed!! Love ya!! 💛
#˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚#dieter bravo#dieter bravo x f!reader#dieter bravo x female reader#dieter bravo x reader#dieter bravo x you#dieter bravo x y/n#dieter bravo smut#the bubble#the bubble fanfiction#the bubble fanfic#DMAMC2025#DMAMC 2025
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Frenglish differences in Miraculous - Episode 5
Timebreaker/Chronogirl
Alix - Kim
En: Your ridiculous bets are over. I'm gonna leave you in the dust, meathead. - You're no match for me. My neck is bigger than your thigh.
Fr: Je vais aller tellement vite mon pote que ton cerveau aura même pas le temps de comprendre ce qui t'arrive. - J'ai pas besoin de mon cerveau, mes muscles suffiront pour te mettre la pâtée.
I'm gonna go so fast, buddy, that your brain won't even have the time to comprehend what's happening to you. - I don't need my brain, my muscles are enough to crush you.
"I don't need my brain". Ok Kim.
Alix to Marinette after she sees her broken watch
En: Did you do this?
Fr: Je te l'avais confiée.
I entrusted you with it.
Nothing's sadder than breaking a friend's trust :((.
Timebreaker after getting Kim
En: The dude was a pain anyway with all those bets.
Fr: Finalement il avait raison, ses muscles auront servi à quelque chose.
He was right in the end, his muscles did end up being useful for something.
Ladybug
En: Where on Earth is that cat?
Fr: Où est Chat Noir ? Il n'est jamais là quand on a besoin de lui.
Where is Chat Noir? He's never there when we need him.
Chat Noir to Timebreaker
En: Let me guess, we're all playing a game of tag and you're it?
Fr: Alors laisse moi deviner, on joue tous à chat et c'est toi le chat ?
So let me guess, we're all playing cat and mouse and you're the cat?
Once again a pun lost in translation.
Chat noir
En: Just a second too late.
Fr: C'en est fallu d'un poil.
This one is kind of hard to translate, but it roughly means "that was one hair away", meaning it was very close. It's a pun with the fact that cats have lots of hair (in French, we have different words for the hair on your head and the ones on your body/an animal, and the latter is used here).
Chat Noir about Timebreaker
En: Well she wastes no time, does she?
Fr: Nom d'un chat elle perd pas de temps, hein.
For cat's sake, she wastes no time.
A pun lost in translation once again. In French, we usually say "nom d'un chien", which roughly means "for dog's sake", but it was here changed to a cat.
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being friends with artrick is crawling around in my brain. imagine being their not-so innocent best friend that they’ve agreed to corrupt because you’re just so pretty and your innocence makes them so hard they have to jerk each other off🙂↕️🙂↕️🙂↕️ art and patrick suggest having y’all’s weekly movie night in your room tonight instead of the usual living room that the three of you share in the apartment — you agreed because they’re your best friends and they know what’s good for you!!! they let you choose the movie because they want to see you happy:(( you guys are almost always cuddled up but it felt different this time - probably because patrick was sliding his hand further up your thigh with each minute that passed. you could feel him staring holes in the side of your head, but you keep your eyes on the tv - you don’t need them knowing you’ve been waiting for this😈😈 art catching patrick’s gaze when he turns his head, his hand moving the same as patrick’s on your other thigh.
oh no! you’re suddenly getting fucked by both of them!!!! how did this happen?!?! art fucking your pussy nice and deep while patrick has a hand tangled in your hair absolutely fucking your throat so hard it makes you cry:((( but he’s there to comfort you - telling you it’s okay, they’re just there to take care of you! you clench around art and start fucking yourself back onto him, lifting one of your hand to wrap around the base of patrick’s cock to stroke as you meticulously use your pretty little mouth on him - mouthing at the tip and sucking on his sack. they’re both in shock at the sudden whoreness that took over you; who knew you’d be such a slut!!!! the night ends many hours later with multiple loads from each of them dripping out of your pussy, the three of you absolutely spent-
OHHHHG YEAHHH WOOOO NOM NOM FUCK YES guys my inbox is craving for some asks btw! it told me! (i have no creativity; i can only fuel other’s desires)
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Diamond Rings 💫
Bale!Bruce Wayne x wife!reader
A/N: I finally got around to writing this lovely request!! Fluffy morning sex is perfect for Bruce AHHH 😭 and this is also the sequel to 'My Precious Jewel' !! Get your nom noms :3
~Fi 🐝
《Prompt》: the ask is here!
《Requested by》: anon <3
《Warnings》: NSFW CONTENT. proceed with caution. Handjob, edging (barely), PiV, throat holding (???), creampie (don't be like them), lil bit of cockwarming, so fluffy it's sickening, Bruce is a hopeless romantic, change my mind. (You can't)
《Word count》: 2.6k
Sequel to My Precious Jewel ♧
Can be read as stand alone as well though!
Masterlist ✨️
Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.
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The morning sun was streaming in through the curtains, tickling your face. You stirred, craning your neck to take a peak at the time. 8:39 am. You sighed sleepily, turning around and snuggling closer to the man who had his strong arms wrapped around you.
You smiled softly as you saw his peaceful expression, still dreaming away. Feeling a cold sensation on your hot skin, you gently lifted the covers. The hand that held you tightly yet so lovingly had a gold ring sitting on its ring finger. You quickly inspected your own hand, finding a golden wedding band there as well.
You had to stop yourself from squealing like a little girl when you realized that all of it, the wedding, the reception and the kiss weren't a dream. You were officially married now.
There were so many emotions bubbling up in your chest. Unbridled joy, disbelief, and pure excitement. But, you'd decided to deal with all of that later, and for now just enjoy your first morning snooze as Mrs. Wayne.
You pressed a sweet kiss to Bruce's lips, and closed your eyes, burying your face in his t-shirt clad chest. It wasn't even 9 in the morning. You'd sleep till dusk like this if you could. Safely in the embrace of your now husband, feeling each other's steady heartbeat and soft breaths.
A comfortable silence lingered over the estate, safe for Alfred who was probably doing all kinds of things already. You'd urged for him to sleep in today, he deserved a break. But, to your dismay, you knew the man and he couldn't just sit and relax even if he was chained to the chair. Well, as long as he enjoyed whatever he had to do you wouldn't complain.
Your slightly parted lips were pressed right above his heart, gently brushing the cozy fabric of his shirt with every breath. One of your arms was slung over his waist, your fingertips gliding over his back in whatever random pattern your wrist decided to carry out. It was a soothing gesture, making Bruce hum sleepily as he pressed his lips to the top of your head, your hair tickling his face.
His arms tightened around you, making it clear that he didn't want to leave the bed either. He felt like he had been put in chains, in a loving and warm way, not in a constricting and controlling manner. The chains that were your love and affection kept him tied down, sinking into the soft sheets, with an even softer you in his grip.
"Don't ever wanna leave this bed..." you mumbled into his chest. A drowsy smile tugged at Bruce's lips as maneuvered you closer so your legs were intertwined.
"I don't either... never wanna be without you." He sighed, feeling the familiar and gentle call of sleep.
"Wanna sink into the mattress, let it swallow us whole."
Your husband chuckled softly. Lack of sleep and early mornings did tend to bring out the poet in you.
"You can tell me all about that in, say... 4 hours?" His words were jumbled, the heavy fog of slumber taking over his brain. It took you a minute to put together what he said, as your own brain was still neatly tucked in its own metaphorical bed.
The furrow in your brows softened when you understood what he was trying to tell you, and you pulled the blanket tighter around the both of you.
"Very, very good idea."
Soon enough, you slipped back into colorful dreams, safely tucked against Bruce's chest.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
A strange feeling that settled in Bruce's bones is what woke him up. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling by all means, it was just... odd. A peculiar buzz in his skull, that slowly trickled down into his spine. It was euphoric almost, making him hazy about his surroundings but too aware of every nerve in his body.
His shirt was soft, too soft, and the buttons on the pillowcase dug uncomfortably into his ribcage. The sliver of sun that managed to sneak its way through the thick curtains fell directly on his face.
His nose scrunched up as the blinding light slowly burned his eyes. Yet the warming and comforting feeling on his cheeks made him stay in place, taking in the new day instead of pulling the covers over his face.
He shifted slightly, shivering when a cool sensation set the nerves in his thigh on fire. The sight of your hand, your married hand, on his leg, made a fire ignite in his stomach that was so ravenous and destructive it could've turned him to ash from the inside out.
The gleaming of your ring, the ring that he put there, made his heart rush and his cock twitch in his briefs.
"Been waiting for you to wake up." With a sweet smile playing on your lips and a certain glint in your pretty eyes that he'd seen many times before, you stroked your thumb over his skin. Your touch made his breath hitch ever so slightly, which didn't go unnoticed by you. It never did.
You were able to read Bruce like an open book, all the tricks he'd acquired over the years and used on the public to shift his image didn't work on you. They never really had, even from the beginning. For some odd reason, that he couldn't explain, you could see right through him.
"Hm, yeah? Could've just woken me up, honey. You're my wife now, after all." Bruce grinned, a strong arm sneaking around your back and pressing you flush against his chest. Your cheeks were on fire. That word still flustered you to the high heavens, and you reckoned it would for a little while.
"It would've been a shame to wake you. You looked like you were crafted by the gods." You whispered softly, pressing your lips to his in a tender but hungry kiss. Bruce melted into you, his eyes fluttering shut as he lost himself in the feeling of his lips on yours, moving gracefully against each other. With heavy breaths, puffy lips and glazed eyes you severed your connection.
"The sun sitting on your cheekbones," your fingertips traced over his face in such a gentle manner, one could assume you were afraid of breaking his peacefulness.
"And on your lips," your thumb swiped over his bottom lip, which curled up into a smile.
"Down your neck... it would've been a crime to break such beauty."
Your hand settled on the back of his neck and gently kneaded his muscles.
"I'm flattered, though no beauty can ever match yours, my love. You will eternally be the universe's rose, blooming in all your glory no matter if the sun shines or not."
"You need to stop reading all those books Alfred recommends to you." You giggled, an obvious blush on your face.
"I don't think I will." He smirked before capturing your lips in a kiss again. It was desperate and full of passion, making you sigh softly against his mouth. His hands became needy, grabbing at the fat of your hips. Bruce trailed his kisses over your cheeks, to your jaw and down your neck, sucking and gently biting at your skin.
You moaned quietly, your body sinking into the sheets at the feeling of his lips against your skin. Grabbing at the hem of his white shirt, you swiftly pulled it over his head, revealing his mouth-watering physique to you. The hand that had been resting on his thigh up until this point now cupped the tent in his briefs, stroking gently but with a firm hand.
He groaned into your shoulder, squeezing you tighter.
"None of that, baby, look at me." You cooed softly, gripping the hair at the base of his skull and gently pulling him away from your neck. Your hand dipped into his underwear and gave his cock a few strokes before shoving his briefs down his thighs.
Never breaking eye contact, you licked a fat stripe over your palm, guiding your hand down to his dick and rubbing at the tip. His lips parted slightly and few throaty groans left him.
"J-Jesus Christ, sweetheart, your hands really are magic." He breathed out, his head tipping forward just a smidge as you found a steady pace with your hand wrapped around him.
"Only for you, always for you.." you whispered against his cheek, feeling his breathing speed up. His hands were digging into your hips by this point as you circled the tip of his cock with your thumb, his pre-cum and your spit slicking him perfectly.
When you ran your finger over the underside of his shaft, against the bulging vein, pretty moans spilled from his lips as he approached his high. But before he could float on that cloud of bliss, you retracted your hand and left him hanging on the edge. His eyes were hazy and filled with need and desperation as he let out a frustrated groan.
"You're gonna regret that, little minx." Bruce smirked, but there was a fire in his eyes that made the heat in your belly boil over.
"Will I?" You challenged with a wicked smile, making him chuckle before smashing your lips together and silencing any further comment you might've made.
He pushed you onto your back and quickly pulled your nightgown over your head before sliding your panties down your legs.
Bruce's hands were placed on your inner thighs, pushing your knees further apart. He groaned at the sight of your glistening cunt, pupils swallowing the brown of his irises whole. Your naked form isn't something he hadn't seen before, but his mind was foggy with emotions of all kinds; the golden sunlight that painted your skin, the way your hair fell into your face, and that sparkly diamond on your finger making his heart swell in his chest.
You were his, through and through, and he never doubted it, but to see that solid piece of evidence sitting so nicely on your ringfinger made something stir in him; something primal, almost.
His hands trailed to your waist, kneading your flesh, as he leaned forward to be closer to you.
"I'd eat you till morning, honey, but I need to be inside you." You could tell that he was trying to hide the urgency and need in his voice, blanketing it in a soft and loving tone.
"I need you inside. Please, my love." You begged needily, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him in until his dick was prodding at your entrance.
"Besides," you whispered when his head found its place in the crook of your neck,"you can always have me for breakfast later."
With an amused huff, he slowly pushed inside of you, filling you up delightfully.
"You'll be the death of me." Bruce groaned, intertwining your fingers on both hands and pressing his forehead to yours.
Your beautiful moans echoed softly in the bedroom when he started to slowly thrust his hips into yours.
The movement knocked the breath from your lungs every single time, your nerves tingling with a sizzling fire that crawled up your spine. He sped up his thrusts, moaning and groaning against your lips.
You pressed your hand against his chest to slow him down again.
"Slow, slow... wanna feel every part of you."
You could've sworn you heard the faintest whimper escape his throat, gripping your hands tighter has his cock dragged along your walls. You could feel every ridge and bump, your head lolling to the side in bliss.
With languid and deep thrusts, Bruce continued to bring the both of you to the edge of your ecstasy. As your moans got louder, you reached for the hand with his ring on it and gently placed it around your neck.
Your husband shifted his weight so he wouldn't fall on top of you, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes. You placed your ringed hand on top of his and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
You just wanted him to gently hold your throat, wanting to feel the cold metal against your burning skin.
"You won't hurt me, I promise. Jus' need you to hold me- fuck!" You cried out at a particularly deep thrust, squeezing your eyes shut and digging your nails into the back of Bruce's hand.
"Look at you. My pretty fucking wife. All mine. I made you mine, and everyone knows. They just need to look at that pretty diamond ring on your finger." His voice dropped an octave, and his words were almost a growl as he plunged in and out of you.
"You're s'good to me, honey. The perfect husband f'me." You moaned, your lips clumsily brushing against his as he panted on top of you.
"God, I love you." He grunted, his movement becoming sloppy as he was nearing his climax. You could feel the bliss gnawing at your limbs as well. Bruce trailed his hand between your bodies and circled your puffy clit, which only made you succumb to the pleasure faster.
"F-Fuck- oh my god, I'm so close!" You almost screeched, trying to ground yourself with him in any way you could.
"Come f'me, yeah?" He heaved, struggling to get the words out between his groans. Any more moans and cries were muffled as his lips greedily found yours, the tip of his cock hitting that spongy spot inside of you over and over again.
With a a strategic swipe over your clit and a well timed thrust, your orgasm crashed into you, jumbled 'I love you's falling from your lips as Bruce spilled inside of you with your name on his lips. The hand around your throat tightened only a little bit, prolonging your high that much longer as bliss clouded your brain.
Bruce gently lowered himself on top of you, steadying his breathing against your chest. You were catching your breath as well, tracing patterns on his bare back. He was still nestled deep inside of you. He rolled the two of you over so you were on top of him, your cheek pressed against his shoulder as you relaxed in his arms.
"I love you so much." You mumbled, eyes falling shut. You didn't know what time it was, but it didn't matter to you. You had nowhere to be except right here, snuggled against your husband.
"I love you too, sweetheart. Are you alright? D'you need anything?" he asked softly, pressing kisses to the top of your head.
"Hm, no. Jus' wanna stay like this. Maybe take a nap." You yawned, making Bruce chuckle.
"Do you need anything?" You questioned in return, placing a kiss to
his shoulder. "I could use a nap as well." He laughed softly, pulling the covers over the both of you.
"Good. Cus' I'm not getting up." You sighed, letting yourself be loved by him. His hands lazily ran through your hair, lulling you to sleep.
"Sweet dreams, baby." He whispered against your hairline, coaxing a sleepy smile onto your lips.
"You too, my love."
Both of you drifted off with the sun high up in the sky, not a care in the world that it was well past noon. Your hearts beating in sync, your soft breathing mimicking each other and connected deeper and closer as ever, the bonds of your love shinning in the dwindling sunlight with your hands intertwined.
If Bruce could make you wear his heart, he would, but for now the diamond ring would have to do.
You were his and he was yours. The perfect balance of love.
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《Taglist》: @certifiedredhoodlover @allysunny
Let me know if you want to be added! <3
#bumblebeesfromvenus#bale!bruce wayne#bale!bruce x reader#bale!bruce wayne smut#bale!bruce wayne x reader#bale!batman x reader#christian bale#the dark knight#dark knight trilogy#nolanverse
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notti, sorry, I'm chomping. CHOMPING.
so daniel's like yeah I can do something here, this'll look good. Camera still in front of you he gets down, eyes peaking over the round of your ass as he eats up what he's done to you as you stare into the lens, eyes rolling. When he pushes back in it's not dry but you feel the burn, his hand on the small of your back, ass pulled up, face down as he gets his phone again, view focused on his cock as he buries it deep over and over.
When he pulls out he does so with a smirk for the tripod camera, fisting his cock as he tells you to get up so he can lay, side on to the camera, legs spread. "Get on" he commands, low and gruff. You climb over him and he holds his cock as you slide onto it, hands on his stomach. He calls you his good girl, tells you to ride it hard and you lean back, bracing yourself on his bent knees, lifting up and down his length as he thrusts up into you.
You tell him to touch you, beg really, and he likes your attempt at bossing him around so he does, reaches with one hand to lazily rub over your clit as you throw your head back. As he comes inside you he grabs your hips, so tight he's sure to leave finger marks. As he's tensing, jerking in the throws of his orgasm he doesn't forget you, quickly finishing you off, leaving you screaming his name, squeezing and pulsing around his cock, fucking you still as he catches his breath.
After he sits you back with your knees up, spread for him, he takes his phone and focuses on your dripping cunt, smearing the mix of cum around you as you laugh, relaxed as he marvels at the mess he's made before one last shot, he gets in with you, flushed faces close and asks "well, let me know if I should have her back"
Then he shuts off the camera and drops his phone, climbing on top of you to fuck you for real.
🥵
Nom 🍩
#this is the inside of my brain
i.... i have no words. 🍩anon, you've KILLED ME. WHAT???? you're not just chomping, YOU'RE DEVOURING. everything about this has made my brain short circuit and turn to mush AGAIN. if this is the inside of your brain, i'm envious. i'm obsessed with this, thank you.
#🍩nonnie#notti's nonnies#notti answers#porncciardo nation how are we feeling#everyone say thank you 🍩anon for this amazing mouthwatering thot#daniel ricciardo smut#daniel ricciardo#daniel ricciardo imagine#porncciardo au#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo fanfic
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Baby Show Villain Tournament: FINALS
One last time: PEEP THE BRACKET.
It's been a crazy ride. People have been going for their faves to win this thing, but in the end... It was a really unsurprising outcome, actually.
We have Robbie Rotten, the dealer's choice character who is unbelievably memetic. He decimated, to the point where one of his rivals only received ONE VOTE! We have Dr. Two Brains, a character who was a front runner from the start, receiving some detailed nominations and also decimating in every comp he was in, up against some pretty tough comp!
So, who's gonna win? Let's find out now! RIGHT NOW!
Propaganda under the cut:
Robbie (Dealer's Choice): "robbie rotten sweep omfg"
Dr. Two Brains: "I didn’t already nom him??? He’s funny I love the silly mad scientists in these shows and also he just wants to eat cheese how can you NOT like him"
"Hes your classic mad scientist type! Hes voiced by Tom Kenny so hes got great voice work and is so cool and awesome. he taught wordgirl how to be a hero before turning evil so theres cool dynamic stuff there! hes also kinda gay"
"If two brains doesn’t win I’m committing so many atrocities, anyways have you seen this man? His origin story is so tragic yet silly and and he’s the number one villain so if he wins it would fit his character so much ☹️☹️😭😭☹️☹️ and and he was/is such a role model to wordgirl and and did you know he’s also trans yeah he told me the other day and and explodes"
"TWO BRAINNNNNSSSSS FOR THE WINNN

"
"YOU WILL VOTE FOR TWO BRAINS!!!! THIS IS FAIR CITYS NUMBER ONE CRIMINAL WE ARE NOT LETTING HIM LOSE THAT TITLE!!!!! VOTE FOR THE SILLY SCIENTIST MOUSE MAN!!!!!"
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It is time- (Or: It Has Begin XD)
Greetings, my dear readers, it has been quite some time. First and foremost I would like to assure you that yes, I'm alive, and no, I have not abandoned my writing. But, I HAVE been distracted by somehing in the last few months, and I think its time to reveal it. I made a game! And not just a game, a Shadowgast game. I would like to present to you:
Beacon Run.
Ko-Fi This game begun its existance as a homework project for a game dev course I took about a year ago. I was supposed to implement a simple chase and pickup game and I thought, "Why use some random sprites when all I can imagine is small chibi Caleb chasing small chibi Essek around while Essek is trying to nom beacons?"
This idea lit a fire in my brain, and I just had to implement it but I had a very short time for the assignment. Iended up implementing something very simple, but I just couldn't let it go afterwards and vowed I was going to finish that small game and get it out for the fandom to play.
It has since been rewriteen, refactored and recoded several times, until I had something workable to show others. This is the place to mention the major contribution the people fo AIFL had on this little game. As I was maing this game, I shared its early stages with the server, and people have been kind in thier enthusasm, gave me ideas and provided invaluable criticism and feedback. They kept me motivated and kept me going through the lows of frustration one gets when coding. I got @bumble-b-goode 's permission to use their designs for the Weezards and drew my own sprites using that as inspiration. I ended up creating most of the assets for this game. Drawing the art assets took quite some time and I've learned a lot in the process.
Beacon Run not big or complicated as a game. In essence, is a tribute and a love letter to the Critical Role community and the CR crew. To the people who brought to life the Mighty Nein and have shared, and continue to share their stories with us on a weekly basis throughout the years. For Liam and Matt, who have weaved the tale of two broken wizards mending each other into better people, and keep their children of ink and paper alive for us to enjoy. The game: You as a player, are randomly assigned a little wizard to play for each match, so you can play as Essek or Caleb. The board dimensions and obstacles and even the flooring art are randomized for each match so each match is different. Your goal: to collect as many Beacons as you can during the allotted time, and end up with more Beacons than your rival which is the other wizard played by the computer. You gain projectiles over time, which are fake Beacons you can throw at the other wizard. If hit, the rival wizard is stunned for a short time, and drops several of his picked up Beacons for you to gather. However, beware! The rival wizard can also shoot you and stun you for a short while, and make you drop beacons as well. (You might notice that Essek gets stunned by sour lemon Beacons, while Caleb gets stunned by hand-knitted wool Beacons XD) In addition, when the rival is hit, he may drop a Magic Abeyance Bead which contains a Chronurgy spell. if you pick it up, it will provide a short time bonus for the match. In short, the game is a small, cozy game, made out of love for the wizards and the fandom, and I hope you'll enjoy it! I it still in the late stages of testing and development, as the feedback players provide is invaluable and lets me find bugs, add ideas and content suggested and tweak the mechanics to make it more enjoyable. So I would very much appreciate feedback, suggestions, con-crit etc. I would be happy to head what you like about it, what you think needs tweaking, ideas of content to add.... you name it! (Note that currently, the game does not work on mobile. I am planing to revamp the input system and add touch suport for mobile in the near future) Also it is worth mentioning that as I fix bugs, add content and tweak things, I upload new versions of the game so its worth following the Devlog and updates. The game is avaliable for play in the embedded player on the page, and also available for download to play offline (Though you might need to redownload it with every new version as I don't have an auto updater for it.)
In addition, if you like my work, feel like enabling me to make more of these or just want to buy me a coffee, It is always very much appreciated as it sure helps me stay afloat! Tip Jar
So, I hope you forgive me for my lack of writing for the last few months. I really wanted to get this out. I am trying to keep writing in my spare time, but the muses haven't been with me lately. I hope that now that this is out I can finally get my mind off it XD Stay tuned!
#shadowgast#caleb widogast#essek thelyss#critical role#critical role fanart#game making#the mighty nein#Beacon Run
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the first couple episodes of prisoner of beauty were solid so how about a good old fashioned live blog for eps 3/4?
i can’t decide if she really misjudged him or if she’s the scheming genius here and there’s a bigger plan? show keeps implying she’s super smart and calculating but sometimes she doesn’t seem it
are the adorable second couple going to end tragically? they seem too pure
this poor advisor trying desperately to be the voice of diplomacy in a room full of guys whose only interests are swords and stabbing
i just get the vibe that xiao qiao doesn’t want to marry this liu guy either and this family is wayyyyyy to desperate to force it through. if i was her i’d plead innocence and say they took her hostage in order to gain control of the city and keep trying to win wei shao over
oh SHIT they’re going to drown innocents to win a battle? yeah these liu guys can choke, let’s fix things with the murderous general because at least he’s got standards. just gotta stop him from killing you first
this official guy read my mind re: play like she was forced into this elopement
man there’s nothing like standing between opposing fiancés forced to make you realize you’re maybe a tad out of your depth
“this isn’t what i thought i’d be dealing with when i agreed to be your wingman”
honestly at this point i’d just sit on the ground and make them fight over me. whoever gets to me first, come on!
episode 4 and i’m already in love with all his generals
i fucking love a manipulative woman that everyone underestimates
gong sun yang early nom for mvp. peacekeeper (or tries to be) and yente (or tries to be)
oh she knows he’s spying lol
i can’t wait for power couple mode. her brains and his brawn? yes please.
this was a great bit of choreography
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🏒 chomp :D
nom! :D
X
Simon’s eyes narrowed as he watched him pull his phone out. “You’ve had your phone on you this entire time?” he asked. “Where were you?!”
Charles raised his hands in a placating manner. “Oi, let’s not yell,” he said, as if that was going to be enough to stop Simon.
Simon jerked his head towards Charles, his eyes narrowing even further. “What’re you even doing here, Rowland?” he asked.
Charles dropped his hands to his side, also glaring at Simon. “Nothing,” he said, which was a flat out lie. “What’re you doing here?”
Simon stepped forward, like he might somehow intimidate him. “I told you, Edwin’s father is looking for him–” he leaned down and snatched Edwin’s phone from his hand, shaking it in Charles’s face, “and he wasn’t even bothering to answer anyone’s messages!”
Something dark rolled over Charles’s face. “Don’t do that,” he said. And Edwin wasn’t sure what he meant at first, his brain too intoxicated to keep up. It was a surprise then, when he realized it wasn’t about shaking something in Charles’s face, but the grabbing of his phone.
X
Make Me Write
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Binghe nicknames
Today im reflecting in LBH’s nicknames, like, SQQ’s nicknames for him, fandom nicknames for him and SQH’s nicknames for him
why you ask? Because my brain is full of sv brainworms, that’s all
Now, this may have some inconsistencies bc it’s what I believe and im by no means chinese…let’s start with the most common ones to name a small Binghe
We have things like bingbing, binghe, white lotus, little sheep and bunhe. The first two look fairly straightforward no? From what ive seen, in chinese using a character of a person’s name repeatedly like this denotes a cutesy way of calling them, and calling someone by their name alone (as long as it has enough characters for that) is a sign of being close. LBH obviously loves SQQ calling him Binghe, nobody else gets that privilege! Even NYY calls him A-Luo and not Binghe, even though that is another way to denote closeness, I don’t believe its the same for him!
let’s go with bunhe, this is (as far as i know, do correct me if im wrong) a fandom’s name for the lil guy, im guessing it came from the english part of the fandom since its a play on his name and in chinese the term for bun would be bao/baozi(?) depending on the type of bun so it wouldn’t be as cute to call him baohe(?) sounds like another person entirely lol
but! Bun makes you think of a round white and soft ball, safe and sweet, unless you are of course, not chinese like me and at first you thought of a golden brownish ball of hot bread, which would work anyways bc freshly made bread it’s delicious and soft. Anyways, i kinda prefer the chinese imagery of bun for this dumb reason ill present to you: Bunhe is a soft round baby, you can nom his cheeks and squeeze him and call him only to see him following cutely! Its the best! But also, when you break the surface you reveal there’s a spicy filling that will leave your mouth stinging and your stomach warm and content, the problem is though, that your white little bao is now in pieces and you can’t reconstruct it, the white surface has been stained with the spicy red from hell and the bitterness of betrayal…but the sweet exterior is still there and it has shifted to become a delicious dish filled with the flavor of home.
am i getting too lost?
lets go back to nicknames! SY gives him the nicknames of little white lotus and little sheep. The second one is pretty self-explanatory, LBH follows him around everywhere like sheep tend to do (also, this is why little duckling also works) but! The consensus in the fandom is that he has curly hair right? Well, imagine a little boy with fluffy hair following you around and trying to help you with everything? It’s impossible not to want to pat his head and squeeze him, so little sheep it is.
now, i’ve seen that sv fandom uses white lotus a lot! SY himself uses it if I remember correctly, but i feel like sometimes we forget where it truly comes from and what SQQ is saying when he calls LBH that, its true that LBH is like a flower, whilting or flourishing on command like SQQ is his sun, his earth and his water. But from other novels i’ve read, I’ve realized that calling someone a white lotus is not necessarily a compliment! In chinese slang a white lotus is someone that looks pure and kind, respectful and pretty, just like the lotus flower peacefully and beautifully resting on a pond, but it also tells us that such a person has a hidden agenda, a hidden side to their personality just like the lotus has roots in the dirt, underwater where we can’t see, its growing and taking advantage of the nutrients of the deepest parts of the earth, so it’s someone “muddy” and “dirty” that presents themselves kind, pure and innocent!
Which means- that SQQ is calling LBH this to remind himself that even though this cute lil boy is obedient and sweet now, he will (in SQQ’s mind at least) torture him and show his true colors later on the road, after he has been utterly betrayed. I quite like this nickname because of how innocent it looks at first, and how sweetly SQQ is usually portrayed while calling LBH this, but he actually knows deep down that he is possibly playing with fire, and even so, he chooses to care and to ahow love to LBH -sobs-
LBH post canon ends up with a lot of trauma, attachment issues and insecurities, and SQQ calling him white lotus shows that he knew about LBH’s bad sides since the beginning. BUT. He. Doesn’t. Communicate. That!!!!! This dumbass!!!! (Affectionate)
Now, there’s also the nicknames SQQ-SQH use to differentiate the Binghes, and i find it incredibly funny too. There’s Bingge (Bing from his name and Ge from older brother), not only called older brother bc he is the original, but also because he is ruthless and cool beyond expectations (we see in the extras, that he is very intelligent and cunning, but equally as shizun starved smhw) he is strong and much more serious and bitter than his counterpart, not to mention the sheer number of women he has (which, as stallion power fantasy, would make him “more manly” but that’s another topic), so, older brother it is!
Sv LBH is usually called Binghe or even ‘my son’ by SQH, which i find hilarious bc SQQ hates it, he doesn’t want to acknowledge SQH as LBH’s father even if he is the creator. This is obviously a running joke but it makea me think of SQQ then accusing SQH of also marrying his own son (MBJ) which would be extremely funny and SQH would be mortified.
anyways, LBH is also calles Bingmei (Bing for his name and mei for little sister) and this is where it gets interesting, because they clearly could have chosen didi (little brother) but didn’t! And this reinforces the comedic role of LBH, he isn’t just a gay protagonist, he is a gay protagonist that - following the advise of his (unknown) creator/shishu - acts like a total maiden throwing a massive tantrum to get SQQ’s attention, he cries like a little girl, he tugs on SQQ’s sleeve with big watery eyes and becomes his housewife. Not only that, but his insecurities are exaggerated by his acting and it gives the impression of him having a massive maiden heart that will die dramatically if her husband doesn’t pay attention to her 25/7 (no, the 5 is not a typo), and it’s true that he has a maiden heart, but he can live without the 25/7 attention, he is just that dramatic. And obviously lets not forget about the picture of a previously ruthless stallion protagonist in the transmigrators’ minds actually turning into this kind of person that acts frail and cute for his husband, it’s just too much for them, and so, he gets called little sister, like a spoiled younger sister, the apple of her parent’s eye. Honestly when i first read that nickname I couldn’t stop laughing for a long while.
finally im going to babble about LBH’s nicknames for himself, we have, this disciple and this husband which are very contradictory but funny when used together. This disciple is not a special title or anything, because for LBH, he is *not* someone that should be special in any way, he just wants to be special to SQQ, who he adores and admires and wants to always protect. Many ppl call themselves ‘this disciple’ to address SQQ, its a way to denote their status and their willingness to be taught by him, to have a familial relationship outside of blood. Now, this is important to LBH bc he feels like he belongs somewhere calling himself this, especially bc he had no home before, and after when he was part of the peak he was singled out as special but in a bad way, so I believe that he just wants to belong somewhere, to a home. Later on, its also important to him because its a reassurance that SQQ still recognizes him as his family. This disciple, for SQQ is like a threat, but for LBH is a way of asking ‘do you still want me?’ ‘Do you see im the same person you shared your home with?’ And that SQQ doesn’t dare reclaim him at first hurts him bc he yearns to go back to being his disciple, cared for and protected under his master’s sleeve. But LBH also wants more than that if he can have it, and this is when the abandonment issues kick again. He calls himself ‘this husband’ in tears, because he got what he wanted and what he was sure he didn’t deserve for being himself, it’s again, a reassurance of his position in SQQ’s live and in his heart, it means he has the power to *stay*, which is the most important thing for him.
Ill finish here bc im getting mushy and weepy and i need to write and read more fic, thanks for coming to read my babbles and do tell me if there’s something or some nickname i missed and you want it studied too! 💖
#luo binghe#svsss#terms of endearment#can you tell im hungry? Lol#bingqiu always shooting me straight to the feels#Narration studies#I love LBH very much
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REQUEST FOR CLYDE BCUZ I LOV HIMMSS!!
okay okay, so! maybe liiikke, clyde nd reader makin out behind the structure of the skatepark? i dunno if it would b like, SMUT smut but it still has potential!! :3
(i actually think i've posted about it before but shhh!!)
okay bye bye
omg i remember wanting to write this so bad when you posted it.
"i like this rollercoaster, it keeps me high." | clyde
diet mountain dew. - lana del rey
✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999@josibunn @livingdead-materialgirl @romanroyapoligist@auggiethecreator @oliviah-25 @vanlisbon @lankysimp @livingdead-reilly@imoonkiss @lankysimp@nom-nommmm1@xxbl00d-cl0txx@k1ll3rh0rr0r@wildathevrt@mommymilkers0526
reader x clyde
word count: 596
contents: fluffy, making out, implications of sex
it was summertime, and life was easy. everything seemed so warm and the night's darkness only lasted an hour before the sun was back up again, and at the moment clyde was giving you skateboard lessons that quickly became a daily routine.
an hour ago, clyde rolled up his sleeve, keeping a firm hand on your waist as he pushed you across the pavement on his skateboard. it was either 11pm or 2am, you had lost track of time. your brain was filled with the sound of his cute, raspy laughter as he spoke to you. “you’ve almost got it this time.”
you knew it was bullshit, but you got butterflies in your stomach anyway. at one point you actually were getting it, but you kept on pretending to fall just so you could relish the feeling of him catching you in his arms.
clyde took off his flannel and put it on your back as it got a little chilly and took you to the back of the skate structure. he sat you down on the ground, plopping himself onto the board and looking deeply into your soul with his pale, drunken-looking eyes. he had his earplugs in, but let you wear the one that couldn’t go in his ear, welcoming you into his little world of music.
you and him engaged in whatever dumb conversation his brain could come up with, him inching closer to you as each minute passed. with every hair flip, flirty comment and glance at your lips, you felt your heart beat faster for him. until he finally gathered the balls to take your face into his hands and give you a big, sloppy kiss.
you gasped softly as your lips touched his, the feeling of his soft mouth against yours making blood rush to your cheeks. it was such a slow, gentle kiss but you felt every nerve in your body start to buzz.
he tongue slipped between your parted lips, starting to explore the warm wonderland of your mouth as his finger traced the curve of your jawline. he kissed you desperately like you were the last drop of water in an empty desert, pulling you onto his lap until his back was pressed against the skate structure and you were on top of him, hips grinding against his erection.
his hands found your hips and started moving you gently against him like you were a delicate piece of art. strings of saliva connected your lips every time you or he pulled away for a quick breath of air. you felt your lips swelling up from the friction, matching the pulsating sensation of your heartbeat.
he’d occasionally pull away just to take a look at your face before smiling like an idiot and getting right back to business, the kiss dragging on for minutes, maybe even hours. your hands rested on his shoulders as his hands travelled up and down your body, this moment seeming so surreal to him that he couldn’t register a single thought.
as far as he was concerned, you were the only thing in the world right now. he didn’t care about the people who saw you two or what they’d think. he was in heaven whenever he was with you, and he couldn’t care less about those who thought they had a say in the matter.
for the remained of the night, his lips remained on yours as sweet, quiet little whimpers and gasps came from both of you. as you melted in his embrace, you sighed contently. it was summertime, and life was easy.
author's note: omg im so excited, i had an idea for smth but ill put a poll up for it first.
#444rockstargf#rory culkin#rory culkin smut#fluff#clyde rory culkin#clyde electrick children#rory culkin clyde#electrick children clyde#born to die#diet mountain dew#lana del rey
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THE COMPLETE COPOLLO MASTERLIST
Desperately looking for fics to satisfy your obsession with the RRverse's most dumpsterfire of a ship? Look no further than this post :3
I have Copollo fics ranging from Ao3, FF.net, and here on tumblr! Each fic will be linked, and if the author has a tumblr (that I know of - if you know their tumblr let me know!), they will be tagged.
Also, before we begin, I would just like to say that when I say every Copollo fic I can find is on this list, I mean all of them. This includes fics that are canon compliant, crack, aus, and those with darker tones. If that isn't your thing, all you have to do is avoid clicking on said fics. They're all organzied very nicely if I do say so myself. Nothing more to it :3
Look below the cut for the list! If you have any fics that slipped between my grabby fingers let me know so I can add them! :3
Roman Empire Era
A Cruel Occasion by @seductivegrapethrowing
Grapes and Blood (German) by Buttons_Buttons (Rated G)
Fairness by mothmansaysgayrights (Rated G)
The Death of Emperor Commodus by LusiaLovegood (Rated G)
Long Life to You by kitatyourservice (Rated G)
Call Me Commodus / Today I'll Be Your Ruler / I'll Also Die Here by kitatyourservice (Rated G)
Of Broken Promises by @money-and-dandellions (Rated G)
Keeping Warm by @soleil-in-retrograde (I reread the Copollo part of this over and over :3) (Rated T)
vow by @daisy-mooon (Rated T)
my teeth will only cut your lips, my dear by localcryptidlivinlife (Rated T)
Always Told You Not To Love Me (Now Look What You Made Me Do) by anxious_tofu (Rated E)
ghost of mine (you're taking up all my time) by anxious_tofu (Mainly perpollo, but there is Copollo :3) (Rated E)
i’ll break your little heart in two by Anonymous (Rated E)
By me
Death's Embrace (Rated G)
When the Day Met the Night (Rated G)
When Everything's Wrong, You Make It Right (Rated G)
no one can say what we get to be (Rated G)
drunk off that love, it my head up (there's no forgetting you) (Rated G)
blood on my shirt, rose in my hand (blood on my shirt, heart in my hand) (Rated T)
Trials of Apollo
Canon Compliant
As Far As I'm Concerned, You're Just Another Picture To Burn by @solahflare
It Isn't Love, It Isn't Hate, It's Just Indifference by @solahflare
A Pity by kitatyourservice (Rated G)
forget - me - not by localcryptidlivinlife (Rated G)
Song of Apollo by @tsarinatorment (For the Copollo crumb within :3) (Rated T)
Fractures of the Mind (Heart) by me :3 (Rated T)
The Devil Within (His Mind) also by me (Rated T)
Chapter 5 of some ToApril drabbles because my head is as empty as Meg's by orphan_account (Rated T)
Divinity, Fire, and Former Lovers by @seapinecone (Rated T)
Aus
All's Fair in Love & War by me (Rated G)
It'll Be Okay by Apollo4612 (Rated Fiction T)
i loved you dangerously (more than the air that i breathe) by @okathleen (Rated T)
i will only break your pretty things by localcryptidlivinlife (Rated T)
i'm a bad liar (with a savior complex) by me (Rated T)
@daisy-mooon
Taunt (Rated G)
Outnumbered (Rated T)
Blindfold (Rated T)
Spark (Rated M)
By ifyouseemetellmetogostudy
and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started (Rated G) (nom nomming)
God of Truth (He Never Knew) (Rated G)
you make this place hell (Rated G)
Humus Ericius Diem (Rated G)
Triumvirate Wins Au by bacchis
to eros, in secrecy
den of the lion (Rated E)
there are a couple more fics in this series if you're interested but only the two above have brief Copollo moments (i will admit this au lives rent-free in my brain)
AUs
Winds of Ruin by me (Rated G)
The Moon Brooch by @trials-of-apollo-my-beloved (Rated G)
Coward by @nyaningthroughlife (Rated T)
Moonrise by me (Rated T)
And historians will call them close friends, besties, murderers of each others’ souls by Ifyouseemetellmetogostudy (Rated T)
The Human Within The Sun by SassyTrio130 (Rated T)
Veruca by cactusstudy (Rated M)
Hazbin Hotel nonlinear AUs
Stayed Gone by me (Rated T)
Hell Hath No Fury by me (Rated T)
Crack (when i say every fic, I mean every fic)
It's a Fun Time in Commodupolis! by Anonymous (Rated M)
Dark
Nothing Like The Sun by Cola_bubblegum
Day & Night by Lif61 (UltimateFandomTrash) (Rated E)
TAG LIST: @moodyseal @plastikstarz @hazardous-lightdas12 @worlds-oldest-teenager here it is! :3
#copollo#masterpost#the trials of apollo#toa#trials of apollo#apollodus#apollo x commodus#apollo#commodus#pjo apollo#toa apollo#pjo commodus#toa commodus#toa fanfiction
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Please Please Please
This is a prompt fill for @harringrovewinterbingo, A3 - "red in the snow".
Rating: Explicit | WC: 3,350 | CW: Consensual non-consent play, homoerotic punching, regular punching | Tags: Mean Girl Steve Harrington, Pop Star Steve Harrington, AU - No Upside Down, AU - Modern Setting, Top Billy Hargrove, Bottom Steve Harrington, The Inherent Homoeroticism of Throwing Some Punches, Rough Sex, Verbal Degradation, Feminization, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Romantic Face Punching, Play Fighting, Also Real Fighting, Billy Hargrove Being an Asshole
Summary: Billy once again embarrasses Steve at a party, but afterward reminds Steve why he keeps letting this happen.
Notes: Since the version of "Please Please Please" with Dolly Parton came out I have once again been plagued by Harringrove brainworms for the song. This is what happened.
Many thanks to @dame-zoom-a-lot for continuing to be the world's most fantastic beta, and messy Harringrove cheerleader.
Would also like to shout out @runraerun's put up your dukes and @stervrucht's There's a gap where we meet as delightful works of homoerotic punching which were definitely an inspiration.
You can also read on AO3.
I heard that you're an actor, so act like a stand-up guy Whatever devil's inside you, don't let him out tonight I tell them it's just your culture and everyone rolls their eyes Yeah, I know
All I'm asking, baby
Please, please, please don't prove I'm right And please, please, please Don't bring me to tears when I just did my makeup so nice Heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another I beg you, don't embarrass me, motherfucker, oh Please, please, please
-"Please Please Please", Sabrina Carpenter
"Carol!" Steve cried, spotting the red-head across the room and hurrying over to her. He'd made the mistake of agreeing to come to a party in Manhattan with Billy. It was rare for them to both be in the same city these days, so Steve had allowed himself to be convinced. Now, he was trying his best to pretend he was here on his own. Billy was… somewhere, no doubt making a spectacle of himself.
Steve needed to stop getting so cock-drunk on Billy that he agreed to be seen in public with him. His manager was going to kill him if this resulted in another tabloid scandal. He needed to mingle with other people, stay away from Billy as much as possible. Anyone would do, really. Even D-list actor Carol Perkins, who he remembered from high school.
"Steve!" Carol chirped in reply, gracing him with her dazzlingly fake smile.
"How have you been?" Steve asked, grinning to show off his perfect teeth. "I haven't seen you since…" he racked his brains. Carol was far too low on the totem pole to warrant Steve cultivating a continued relationship with her, so he only ever saw her in passing.
"Halloween," she supplied. "Debra's house party."
"Right, right!" Steve exclaimed. He had no memory of Debra's house party. "How's the acting going?" She'd moved to LA to act, but Steve had never seen her in anything worth watching.
"Some really great things in the works," she cooed. "Can't talk about any of them yet, but you'll be seeing me on the big screen soon." Steve had to use all of his willpower to stop a disbelieving snort from escaping his mouth.
"Oh, that's great," he replied. "Congrats."
Apparently he wasn't very convincing. Her eyes narrowed. "I think you might finally get a Grammy nomination this year," Carol said, leaning toward him with a suspiciously sweet look on her face. She continued with a malicious grin, "Even if it is just a pity nom."
Steve rolled his eyes. "I'm making enough money to not care about award nominations," he replied with a smirk. Unlike Carol's lackluster acting career, Steve's singing career had blown up over the past few years. He definitely wasn't making award-worthy music, but he was more than okay with that. His music was vapid, sexy, and highly lucrative. It didn't need to be anything more than that.
Carol glared at him, taking a sip of her wine. They heard a crash from one room over, and a loud, unfortunately familiar voice yelled, "You wanna say that to my fucking face?"
Carol grinned at Steve like the cat who'd just gotten the cream. "Oh, you're here with Billy Hargrove? That MMA fighter? I'd heard about your little… fling."
Steve sighed. They heard another crash, followed by the sound of breaking glass. A few seconds later, a man was thrown into the room, landing on the floor in front of Steve and Carol.
Billy stomped in after him, looking absolutely fucking delicious in his tight jeans and mostly open button-down shirt.
"I don't throw fights, you fuck," Billy yelled at the man on the floor, then spat on him.
Billy looked up to see Steve standing in front of him. His expression instantly changed from menacing grimace to wide smile. "Steve, baby. I lost you. How you doing?"
The room had gone silent, and everyone was staring at Billy and Steve. Multiple people had their phones out, taking videos. Steve was screwed. His manager was gonna be so pissed.
Steve grabbed Billy's arm and dragged him to the rooftop garden. It was huge. Steve couldn't remember whose penthouse this even was, but they might be even more loaded than he was. Today, the garden was covered in snow, but in the summer it would be beautiful out here.
"Why we comin' out here? Got a hankering for something?" Billy pressed Steve up against the wall, leering.
Steve shoved him away. "No, Billy. You've gotta stop doing shit like that when we go out together. You're embarrassing me."
Billy snorted. "Apologies, princess. Wouldn't want to mar that precious pop star image."
"Then stop throwing people around at parties!" Steve hissed.
Billy pushed back into Steve's space, bracketing him against the wall with a hand on either side of his head. "You love it. Admit it. You get all horny watching me beat the shit out of people. That's fucked up, baby."
Steve's pulse accelerated. Fuck Billy for being right. Steve did love it. Loved watching the lethal way Billy's body moved in a fight, loved seeing his fists connect with other people's bodies, loved seeing their fists connect with Billy. Steve was fucked up.
Billy reached one of his hands down to palm over Steve's hard cock. "You little slut," Billy whispered with a grin. He captured Steve's lips in a rough kiss, teeth clacking together as Billy's tongue delved into Steve's mouth.
The door opened behind them. They both turned to see three angry-looking men walk out onto the garden.
"Hargrove," the biggest of them said. "You fucked up our boy, Petey."
Billy scoffed. "I barely did shit to Petey. He's just a fucking pussy."
The man who'd spoken rushed at Billy. Steve stepped away, giving them a wide berth as the man took his first swing. Billy ducked easily, coming back up almost too quick for Steve to even track, delivering a swift punch to the man's face.
There was a loud cracking noise as his nose broke. Blood sprayed out of his face, bright red in the snow.
"Fuck!" the man yelled, voice garbled. "My nose."
"Either of you shits wanna try me?" Billy asked the other two men, cracking his knuckles.
They rushed Billy at the same time, coming at him fast. Billy wasn't quick enough to completely dodge one of the men. He took part of a punch to the face, the fist grazing his cheekbone. He dodged the second man's punch, and came up with an underhand jab to his gut. The man doubled over, retching onto the snow.
The man who'd landed a punch came at Billy again, but Billy easily got in a right hook to the side of the man's head, taking him down.
He stood in the snow. His heaving breaths fogged the air around him. The three men were sprawled around him in the snow, staring at him with combined rage and terror.
"Anyone care to go again?" Billy asked, spreading his arms wide. None of them responded.
The whole display made Steve outrageously horny. Billy turned to him with a smirk, well aware of the effect he had on Steve.
Steve turned away, blushing, to see people pressed against the large windows, filming everything. He was so fucked. No way his manager wasn't going to hear all about this.
Steve grabbed Billy's arm and tugged him toward the door. "We're leaving," he announced, voice clipped.
Billy laughed maniacally. "Alright, baby, lead the way," he replied.
Steve smiled apologetically at all the people filming as he walked in the door. "Sorry about that, had a bit of an accident." He used his best crowd-pleasing voice.
"Nothin' accidental about it," Billy helpfully supplied from beside him. Steve couldn't resist glaring at him, even though it was going to look awful on camera. Billy was the worst influence.
Steve managed to get him out of the penthouse without further incident. They took the elevator to the parking garage and got into Billy's Camaro.
"Why do you always have to do that?" Steve asked as they made their way to the hotel Steve was staying at.
"Do what?" Billy demanded. A bruise was already starting to bloom on his left cheek. His knuckles were bloodied. The fucking gall of this man.
"Get into fights! Pull ridiculous shit every time you're out in public! Is it just for the press? Do you just have to have all eyes on you at all times?" Steve's voice went higher and higher as he rattled off his questions.
All Billy did was shrug. "Dunno. Just feels good, I guess."
"Just feels good?" Steve parroted back. "You punch people for a living, why are you so hellbent on also doing it in your free time?"
"I told you. Just. Feels. Good."
Talking to Billy was like talking to a fucking rock sometimes. Steve crossed his arms over his chest with a huff and sank back in his seat. Silence filled the car for a few minutes, then Billy put his hand over Steve's thigh.
"You seem to like it, too, princess," Billy pointed out.
Steve sighed. "I shouldn't. You're gonna drag my name into the mud."
"I know you like being dirty." Billy's hand slid higher, up Steve's thigh, to cup Steve's cock. "You'd let me fuck you in the mud. And you'd love it."
Steve squirmed. It was impossible for him to resist Billy. He was like horny kryptonite. He felt his cock filling out beneath Billy's hand as Billy lightly squeezed.
Billy pulled up to the valet at Steve's hotel. Steve knew he should tell Billy to beat it. There were bound to be paps around the hotel somewhere. But Steve needed to get fucked. Besides, people were going to be talking about the train wreck at the party, not about Steve bringing Billy back to his hotel room. Probably. Jesus, what a disaster of a night.
Billy didn't even ask Steve if he wanted him to come up. He just put the Camaro in park, got out, and threw the keys at the valet. Steve sighed, resigned to his fate, and walked into the hotel with Billy.
As soon as the door to his hotel room shut behind them, Billy pressed Steve against the door. He wrapped his hand around Steve's throat, just the way he knew Steve liked, and resumed the kiss that had been so rudely interrupted at the party.
Steve whined into Billy's mouth. He rubbed his cock against Billy's crotch, rutting so hard it started to chafe. The jeans were in the way. Their shirts were in the way. Everything was in the way. Steve grabbed handfuls of Billy's shirt and yanked him closer.
Billy pushed off of Steve after a few moments, stepping back a few paces and holding his arms out to his sides expectantly. "Well, baby. Punch me. I know you want to."
Steve swallowed. Billy had figured out pretty quickly how horny Steve got when punches were thrown. But they hadn't known how much more intense it would be when Steve was the one throwing the punches. Not until Billy decided one day that he was going to teach Steve how to throw a punch, and it had been followed by the best sex of their lives. Now they started almost every fuck with a punch.
It was so fucked up. Steve had no idea what had made him this way. All he knew was that punching Billy was better than any aphrodisiac money could buy.
Steve swung at him, hitting Billy across his jaw, opposite the bruise that was forming from the party. Billy's head moved with the punch, but he seemed otherwise unfazed.
Billy laughed as Steve shook his fist out, blood dripping from a newly split lip. "Hurt yourself, princess?" he sneered. Steve used both hands to shove Billy back onto the bed, climbing on top of him to straddle his hips.
He pressed himself down onto Billy, rubbing their cocks together. "Shut up," Steve said.
Billy growled and flipped them, pinning Steve down to the bed. "Make me," Billy taunted. "What do you say if you want me to stop?"
"Red," Steve breathed. Billy was gonna let him play tonight. Billy nodded. He tightened his grip on Steve's wrists and moved them above Steve's head on the bed.
Steve tried his best to wiggle out from under Billy, but Billy was holding him in place with his entire body. His thick thighs were crushing Steve's hips into the bed. Billy ground his chest into Steve's until Steve couldn't tell the difference between his thundering heartbeat and Billy's. Steve tried wiggling out again, and Billy just snorted into Steve's neck. Steve loved that feeling of being overpowered.
"Get off of me, you sick fuck!" Steve yelped, squirming harder.
"No," Billy replied. He rubbed his crotch against Steve's, drawing out a moan. "Such a little slut," Billy crooned. "You like this, you're the sick fuck."
Steve used a move Billy had taught him, wiggling his body just right to slip out from beneath Billy and knee him in the balls. He was a little suspicious Billy let it happen, but he'd take it.
Billy let go of Steve's wrists for a moment as he doubled over. Steve got all the way out from under him and threw a punch at his solar plexus. It went a little too far to the left, not having quite the effect Steve had intended, but it still punched an "oof" out of Billy. The strength of Steve's punches was improving.
"You little shit," Billy growled, grabbing Steve's wrist. He bent the arm behind Steve's back and grappled him back onto the bed so Steve was laying face down. Billy was straddling his thighs. He kept one hand on the arm twisted behind Steve's back, the other pressing Steve's head into the bed. His fingers were tangled in Steve's hair, ready to pull.
Steve tried to move underneath him, but it wasn't possible. Billy's hold was perfect. Steve was completely contained. He moaned and tried to rub his cock against the covers, but couldn't even managed that.
Billy bent to whisper in his ear, "Now I'm gonna do whatever I want with you. Got it princess?"
Steve whimpered. He could feel Billy's cock pressed against the backs of his thighs. He needed Billy to fuck him rough, turn him into a puddle of want. He was so fucking turned on.
Billy shifted up onto his knees, keeping one hand on Steve's pinned arm but removing the hand from his head. He used his free hand to reach beneath Steve's waist. Steve started to squirm, but Billy's hold on his arm made it impossible for him to move much. He managed a few feeble kicks as Billy undid his belt and pulled down Steve's jeans and boxers, all with just one hand. Kind of impressive, honestly.
The cold air hit Steve's exposed ass. Billy smacked each cheek, hard. Steve grunted at the sweet sting of pain and thrust into the mattress below him.
"Look at this pretty little ass," Billy cooed. He pressed a finger between the cheeks, stroking over Steve's rim. "Should I just fuck you dry? Make sure you really feel it?" Steve knew he wouldn't, but the idea of it, of being used so harshly, made Steve keen.
"No, fuck you!" Steve yelled, turning his head to the side. He tried to kick again. Billy sat back down on his thighs, trapping his legs. He grabbed a fistful Steve's hair and yanked his head up, giving it a shake.
"Well, it's not up to you, is it?" Billy said, shoving Steve's face back down into the mattress. "I can do whatever I want with your body, you little slut."
Steve moaned, feeling precum leaking out onto the sheet beneath him. Billy let go of his head and reached for the bottle of lube Steve, ever an optimist, had conveniently left on the bedside table. Steve heard the snick of the bottle opening. A few moments later, a cold, slick finger probed at his entrance.
Billy rubbed the lube around for a few moments before sinking his pointer finger in up to the first knuckle. Steve's body tensed briefly before relaxing enough for Billy to slide the finger in all the way.
"That goes in so easy, princess. Who else you let fuck you today?"
"N-no one, asshole," Steve shot back.
"Hmmm. Just that much of a slut, then. Open for me anytime I wanna use you."
"Fuck you," Steve spat.
Billy laughed. "That's not the way things are going tonight, baby." Billy slid a second finger into Steve's ass, directing the pads of his fingers down towards the bed to rub against Steve's prostate.
Steve groaned in pleasure, unable to keep the noise in. "You like that, don't you?" Billy taunted. "Like me using you. You know how fucked up that is?" He rubbed harder against Steve's prostate for a few moments, then started gently scissoring his fingers apart to open Steve further.
"Think your tight little cunt will even fit me?" Billy jeered.
Steve felt like all the breath got sucked out of him and went straight to his cock. That was the first time Billy had talked to him like that. Why did Steve like it so much? What the fuck.
"Guess we'll just have to try it and see," Billy said, pulling his fingers out. He somehow maintained his grip on the arm behind Steve's back as he pulled his own jeans down. Steve heard the jingle of his belt buckle, and then Billy was wiggling around above him and eventually he heard the thump of his jeans being thrown to the floor.
Steve was able to get one good kick in on one of Billy's legs before Billy was on him again.
"That wasn't very nice, Steve," Billy scolded. Steve felt Billy's cock press against his asshole, and then he was pushing in. He fucked into Steve fast, giving him no time to adjust. The stretch was just on the right side of painful, drawing a stuttering moan out of Steve.
"Guess I do fit," Billy murmured, voice breathy. He started to fuck into Steve at a brutal pace. After a few thrusts, he let go of Steve's arm, but pressed both hands into Steve's shoulder blades, pinning him in place as he fucked him hard.
"You like that, princess, don't you?"
Steve's only response was a guttural moan.
"Too cock-drunk for words, baby?" Billy taunted.
"F-fuck you," Steve said again, pushing the words out through panting breaths.
Billy laughed maniacally. He moved his hands to Steve's waist, pulling Steve up slightly off the bed so he could reach for his aching cock. Steve was too far gone at this point to take advantage of the change in position to fight Billy. He just wanted to keep getting fucked.
Billy continued to rail him as he wrapped a hand around Steve's cock and started to stroke. He shifted the angle of his hips slightly, stopping when he got a loud yelp out of Steve as he hit his prostate. He continued to fuck right into that spot, cock pounding into Steve's prostate with each thrust.
Billy leaned down. Steve shivered at the hot breath on his ear. "Gonna pump that pretty cunt so full of my cum," Billy whispered.
Steve exploded, coming all over the mattress with a guttural yowl. Billy kept fucking into him for a few more moments before burying himself all the way inside of Steve and coming with a grunt.
They both collapsed onto the bed. Billy rolled off of Steve and onto his back beside him. Steve turned his head to look over at him. He grinned.
"That scratch your itch, baby?" Billy asked.
"Yeah, Billy," Steve said, scooting over on the bed to drape himself across Billy's chest, tangling their legs together. "It did."
There was no way he'd be able to give this up. His manager was just gonna have to deal.
divider by @/saradika-graphics
#harringrove#harringrove fic#billy hargrove#steve x billy#steve harrington#pop star steve harrington#hwb2025
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