#thats it thats all i got rn | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

urhoneycombwitch · 26 days ago

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Hi, cutie 😘 Slutty metalhead for your thoughts?

oh SO many thoughts but u know the main one rn is… nostalgia 😭 look at that fresh faced baby boy. made me think of revisiting that spot in your later years with Eddie… back in town for a wedding, mayhaps…? I love u sooooo much sarah!!! muah muah muah

(cw: drug & alcohol mention, R wears heels+ a dress and has breasts, fade-to-black sex SOZ mdni +18 as always!!)

Eddie looks so good in a tux. Except right now, he’s yanking at the loop of his tie like it’s choking him (it isn’t, he’s being dramatic), and shedding the confines of his smart black tailcoat into a messy pile in the back of the van (on loan from Uncle Wayne for the duration of your visit, the engine still running miraculously smooth after all these years).

Nancy and Jon aren’t getting married until tomorrow so now that the rehearsal dinner is done with, everyone is under strict instructions to rest up for the big day- but based off the gleam in Eddie’s eye and the corners he’s taking at light speed, you’re guessing the guest bed at the trailer isn’t the main destination right now.

You get comfy, too, kicking off your heels, tucking your feet up underneath the silk of your dress train, giggling as Eddie talks a mile a minute. It feels like old times; the passenger window gets rolled down, cool spring night air of Hawkins breathing life back into the both of you.

It was stuffy, hot, and crowded in the main hall, a raucous ball of light and music and hugs over tables loaded with food; you both went delirious with happiness at seeing everyone in one room again.

Even so, the stark contrast of the still, dark forest is a relief. Eddie parks at the edge of trees just outside Hawkins High, pools of light from the parking lot swallowed by the thick perimeter of sycamores.

You’ve never been on this side of the forest before- the two of you were friends, in highschool, but Eddie was a deft hand at keeping you away from his less savory dealings back in the day.

Now, he takes your hand, confident and sure-footed, your bare feet pressing into the soft underbrush as you follow close behind.

After a minute, your eyes adjust- at dizzying heights, the trees split apart to reveal the sky, twinkling pinpricks of stars lighting your path to the centre of the woods. Eddie’s laughing while he recounts the time an old gym teacher caught him out here, and points out the exact tree he had to scramble up to get away.

Your fingers are warm, weaved in between his, and it’s either the champagne or the love that makes you tipsy, leaning into the twine of arms, resting your forehead against his shoulder- “Wish I could’ve seen it.”

“Nah.” Eddie kisses the crown of your head, strokes his thumb over your knuckles as the picnic table appears into view. “Glad you stayed out of trouble and let me be the one to get into it.”

The wood table is decidedly much older than in its heyday as a pharmacy counter, but in good enough condition to hold your weight as you sit right on top, leaning back into your hands- “Got into plenty of trouble, I was just a bit better at hiding it, s’all.”

“That right?” Eddie comes to stand between the v of your spread legs, hem of your dress climbing along with his hands that settle on either side of your bare thighs. In the moonlight, the sleek black of his hair glows, backlit in white like a halo.

He’s grinning. You are, too, no sense in playing coy- but you’ve got another card to play, before the chase is up.

“Actually, I kind of brought you out here for something.” You sit up, pressing the length of your body against his, breasts to chest, nose notching to the side of his own; Eddie sucks in a painfully sharp breath.

When your leg hooks at his hip, pelvis pulling flush with yours, his grip tightens.

You kiss your way up the column of his neck, then whisper, “I was kinda hoping I could buy some weed off you.”

“I- whuh?” Not quite words, Eddie talks around a tongue that’s gone limp; his head swims from the feeling of your teeth behind his ear. “You wanna… I don’t. I won’t charge you.”

You tsk, pulling away just far enough to give a reproachful look- “Come on, did you give up the goods this easy for every pretty girl who asked?”

“Nope. Just for you.” An easy and honest answer. Eddie slots himself further into the warmth of your body, the growing bulge in his slacks making contact with the strip of wet fabric between your thighs; you moan into his kiss, tongues a greedy slide of want in the others’ mouth.

Trying to keep up some semblance of the roleplay, you gasp out- “You didn’t even… let me offer to pay- oh, fuck, there- with an alternative method…”

Eddie gets a hand past the cup of your bra, massaging the fat and catching your nipple in a twist between thumb and forefinger. Your spine arches into the touch, giving Eddie’s other hand ample room to press against your low back, keeping you rocking forward in a slow grind.

“Let me guess.” His breath is a ragged heat at the side of your neck. “Was sex on the table?”

“Exactly.”

With a tug to his roots, Eddie follows you down flat against the creaking wood, laughing at your quick wit, relaxing into your body- there’s nothing scary about these woods anymore.

#sarah if u want this idea to write more on #its allll yours bby!!#i kind of wrote a half fic thats all i got in me rn 😔#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson

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haveihitanerve · 4 months ago

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I am a proud Bruce Wayne can cook believer so I, a humble tumblr user, request Bruce cooking with his family.

YES. sorry that was loud. But yes 100%. i gotchu

Dick: Dick awoke to the sound of sizzling. He slipped out of bed slowly, padding down the stairs into the kitchen. Alfred was off on a little veteran excursion with old friends, and it was just him and Bruce in the manor for the week.

Bruce was standing at the stove, humming along to the soft music playing, an apron wrapped around his waist as he flipped something in a pan with one hand, messing around with a spatula in the other. He turned when Dick entered the kitchen, smiling.

"Hey chum, you're awake! Wanna help me cook some breakfast?" Dick nodded, climbing onto a chair to peek at the eggs Bruce was making. "I'm making omelets. They're simple and quick and provide you with lots of good protein and vegetables." Bruce informed him, lifting him off the chair and onto his hip instead, handing him the spatula.

"Go on, flip it." Dick laughed, leaning over the pan to flip the omelet. "Nice work chum!" Bruce cheered, sliding the finished omelets onto two plates. "Now we make some bacon- and.." Dick leaned against Bruce's chest, watching as he easily moved around the kitchen, explaining every step as he went. It was nice. Cozy. Domestic.

Jason: Jason awoke to the smell of frying bacon. He slid down the banister into the kitchen, and padded over to Bruce's side, who was leaned against the counter, drying dishes. "Hey Jay lad." Bruce greeted with a smile, bending down to lift him up. "What's up?"

"What're you making?" Jason asked around a yawn, peering around the kitchen for the source of the smell. "Oh," Bruce grinned, bending down so he could peer into the oven. "I'm making breakfast muffins. They've got bacon, eggs, cheese, and jalapeños." Jason's stomach rumbled and Bruce laughed, standing again.

"It'll be ready in a few Jay." He plopped Jason on the counter, grabbing a cookbook off the shelf. "In the meantime, wanna help me get started on this pot roast for dinner?" Jason nodded, running his hands along the old, yellowed pages of the cookbook. Bruce smiled as he watched him, collecting the ingredients.

"It was my mothers." He informed him, picking the recipe. "and one day," He bopped Jason's nose with a spoon. "It might be yours." Jason smiled.

Tim: Tim awoke to the sound of clanging dishes. That was... strange. Tim jumped out of bed, hand closing around his bo staff. His parents were off on another one of their little adventures. He was home alone. There wasn't anyone else in the house. Or, not supposed to be.

Tim crept down to the kitchen, keeping his back against the wall, before slowly peering inside. Bruce was standing at the sink, filling dirty pots and pans with soapy water, an apron wrapped around his waist, though clearly not big enough for him, so Tim assumed it belonged to the old cook who must have left it when Janet fired her.

"Uh," Tim cleared his throat and stepped into the kitchen, leaving his staff in the hallway. "Bruce? What are... you doing here?" Bruce turned to face him, smiling brightly.

"Timmy! You're awake! Lovely, sorry to drop by unannounced, but you mentioned yesterday not eating breakfast lately, and, well, I figured I'd stop by and make you something." He wiped his hands on a towel, suddenly seeming a little nervous. "If- if that's all right?" Tim nodded slowly, unsure.

"Uh, yeah- yeah no that's fine. What um, what for though?" As far as he was concerned, Robin hadn't done anything wrong lately, and he definitely hadn't done anything that warranted Bruce coming over to make him breakfast. Unless this was Bruce's way of softening the blow of firing him... Something curdled in Tim's stomach.

But Bruce smiled, set at ease again, and turned to his dishes. "Oh no reason, you just mentioned not having eaten breakfast and well," he laughed lightly, sticking a brush into the sink to help his cleaning. "Its... a little bit of a tradition, you know." He shrugged. "For me to cook something. For every Robin. You don't, uh, live at the manor, but that doesn't mean you should miss out."

Tim blinked in confusion. Bruce was... openly sharing a Robin tradition with him? That was new. Bruce sighed, apparently knowing it to, and turned back around. "I'm sorry Tim, I should... this is weird.. I should have told you I'd be coming and... you're permanent Tim."

Tim stared at him wide eyed. "I'm what?" He repeated, utterly confused and a little scared. "You're permanent." Bruce repeated, eyes utterly serious. "i know I haven't always been the best towards you, but I'm trying. I want to- I want to fix that. And be there for you. Like your parents should be. I'm not trying to replace them- I just want you to know I'm here and-"

He was rambling, words moving too fast for Tim's ear to pick up, his own cheeks flushed as his hands moved awkwardly in his haste to explain. Tim didn't care. He'd stopped listening after 'you're permanent'.

Before Bruce had a chance to react, before Tim could stop and think more about what he was doing, he was across the room, his arms wrapped around Bruce's torso. Tim's mind finally connected to his body and he tensed, waiting for Bruce to push him away, to say "no thats not what I meant"... but after a short pause, Bruce's arms wrapped around him.

He was warm and strong and solid, firm and protecting. "I've got you Tim," Bruce whispered, his breath tickling Tim's ear, but the words sweeter than anything he'd ever heard. "You're permanent."

Steph: Steph didn't know how he was in her house. She wanted to know how he'd found her much less. As Bruce Wayne, even, not as Batman. She just stared at him. At Bruce. Standing in her kitchen, awkwardly, holding a Walmart bag of groceries. He cringed, lifting said bag. "You wanna make some waffles?"

Stephanie didn't even know what her life was, anymore. Here she was, ex-robin, remade Spoiler, standing in her cramped, crappy kitchen apartment, making waffles with fucking Batman, except it wasn't Batman, it was Bruce, and he was wearing her obnoxious purple apron and was singing along to her horrible music taste and he was good at singing damn it, and he was laughing at her jokes and even making his own and he even let her lick the spoon and the waffles looked delicious and...

"Why are you here Bruce?" She asked finally, while they were waiting for the last waffle to finish, and Bruce had already moved on to do the dishes for her. "Hm?" Bruce returned, pretending like he hadn't heard her, or understood her, though she could tell by the way his shoulders tensed that he had.

"Why are you here?" She repeated, crossing her arms. Bruce sighed, shoulders slumping. "Because I messed up." He whispered quietly. Steph stilled. "What?"

"I messed up." He repeated, and returned to his scrubbing, doing it more forcefully than necessary, and not turning around to face her. "I- I shouldn't have fired you Stephanie." And that was when the world slid out from under her feet.

"W-what??" She exploded. Bruce bit his lip, knuckles white on the scrubbing brush. "It- it was wrong of me to fire you. I- I'm sorry." And any fight she was gearing up for went out of her. "I was just so mad, and- and I was missing Tim and Dick and Jason and everyone... and its no excuse." He turned, finally, meeting her eyes. "Its no excuse. Not for how I treated you, not for any of it. And, I'm sorry."

Steph stared at him, rendered speechless for the first time in her life. Bruce fidgeted under her stare, but to his credit did not move away, or break eye contact, or flee. "Why now?" She finally managed to squeeze out. Bruce sighed, and it seemed like enough of an acceptance of his apology for now that he turned around again, and resumed doing the dishes.

"I don't know. I guess... I guess because I realized I hadn't done it with you yet." he gestured to their pile of waffles. "Cooked. Cooked for you. I cook for every Robin. For every Robin I've ever had I've cooked. And I- I didn't do it for you. And its because you weren't there for very long but truly its because I didn't want to. I didn't want you to be Robin. Because that meant Tim truly was gone. Because I only get a new Robin when the old one is gone. Gone for good." He shrugged. "There's no excuse."

"Those sounded like some pretty good ones right there." Steph joked lightly. Bruce smiled at that, but still didn't turn around. "But they aren't." Steph swallowed, and slowly walked closer, taking a rag and slowly drying off the dishes he finished.

They worked in silence for a while, until all the dishes were cleaned and put away again, and Steph motioned him to sit down at her rickety old table, and served them waffles.

"I forgive you." She said finally, when they had both eaten their fill. Bruce looked at her. Clearly shocked, but... listening. Staying. She loosed a breath, leaning back in her chair the way Jason had taught her.

"I forgive you because... because you have some pretty good reasons and because... well these waffles are really good." That got a smile, a crack in his mask, and Steph smiled back before she could stop it.

"But mostly..." His smile faded and he waited. Waited. Stayed. "But mostly I forgive you because you apologized. And because I want to. Because well," She smiled ruefully. "Robin can't ever stay mad at Batman for too long can he?" Bruce smiled back, smaller, more subdued, but he smiled back. "No," The words sounded almost sorry. "No he cannot."

Damian: Damian awoke to the smell of home. But... that wasn't right. He wasn't home. Not, not at home. He was at the Manor. At Home home. But the smell...

Damian slipped out of bed, walking to the kitchen. He found Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, and Steph there, yelling at each other and cooking, Bruce and Jason doing the most work while Steph handed them things, Tim read stuff aloud from a big yellow cookbook, and Dick watched, occasionally sampling things and calling for more of something.

"What's going on?" Damian asked, and his words cut through the chatter like a knife. Silence fell. Damian regretted speaking immediately, wishing he hadn't come downstairs at all. But Bruce turned with a smile, still stirring something that smelled so familiar.

"Hey Dami," he greeted, nodding his head for him to come closer. "Happy Birthday. We just decided we'd get together and make you something special for breakfast." Tim nodded and he and Dick herded him to the table, sitting him down and tying a napkin around his neck.

Jason appeared from the kitchen, carrying a tray that wafted like home. "We made a bit of everything," He eldest brother said with a sheepish smile. "Wasn't sure which you'd like." He set the tray down and Damian couldn't stop the tears from welling up, not as he beheld the staples, the dishes Mama had made him. That he had shared with Grandfather.

"Wh- why? What?" Damian looked around at all the sweaty, proud, flour covered faces, beaming at him from around the table. "Do you not like?" Bruce asked in concern, brows furrowing.

"NO!" Damian returned, a little too forcefully, cheeks turning pink. "No." he said, a shade quieter. "Its lovely, but, but why?" Steph grinned, leaning over to ruffle his hair. "Because, little moon, it's Robin tradition that Bruce cooks for you. And, well, since we're fairly certain you're gonna be the last of us,"

"I don't think B's hair can take anymore." Jason grumbled. Tim snickered in agreement and Bruce smacked the back of his head with a small, fond smile as Jason ducked, laughing lightly. Steph rolled her eyes at them, winking at Damian as she continued. "We figured the rest of us would pitch in too." Dick grinned, leaning over to pour him a glass jellab. "Happy Robin Birthday Damian."

#i hope you enjoyed!#for damian im so sorry if i got anything wrong #but i googled some arabian things in an effort to make it like culturally meaningful for him #ill change it if its wrong and anyone knows better #but for rn thats all i got #i can do the rest(babs duke cass) later if anyone wants it #anyway hope you like it #batfam #batman #batman and robin #robin #stephanie brown #dick grayson #jason todd #damian wayne #tim drake #bruce wayne #good dad bruce wayne

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