#they just so happen to end up a matched set

[cupcakegirl3]

dark!wandanat x reader

kind of part to to this drabble, i wrote this forever ago so it doesn't perfectly line up. you don't need to read it to understand!

tw: dom!natasha, dom!wanda, sub!reader, kidnapping, non-con, virginity loss, abuse, guns, knifes, crying, wanda's powers, edging, overstim, fingering, use of slut, very mean!natasha, softdom!wanda

a/n: plz lmk if i missed any tw. i also barely proofread.

I tried to pull against the rope but it was no use. I was frantic as I heard the locks on the door clicking. Natasha of course had a smile on her face as she entered. Wanda didn’t even look at me, instead walking to the end of the bed. 

“What’s happening?” I asked quietly as she stalked over to me. 

It was impossible to watch both of them, so I focused on Natasha. She had almost a feral look on her face, that made me squirm. 

She sat down on the bed next to me, tracing my face with her cold hand. Her thumb brushed my blacked eye, pressing down a little. 

“You’re so cute, bunny.” Her eyes trickled down my body, “All pretty in white for me.” 

There was a loud noise coming from Wanda’s direction but Natasha held my face firm. “Are you going to be a good girl for Daddy?” 

I shook my head no, a tear falling out. 

Natasha laughed a little, “That’s what I assumed.” 

I tried to watch her hand as it disappeared from my thigh but her other hand held my face firm, unable to see what she was grabbing. 

A sob escaped my throat when she pressed a gun to my head. “Now do you want to be my good little girl?” 

I nodded, trying to screw my eyes shut but a quick pinch to my cheek reminded me to keep them open. 

I felt a dip in the bed as Wanda joined us. “Look at the camera sweetie.” Set up at the end of a bed was a camera, pointed right at us. “We thought this was a cause for celebration. Your virginity is so important to us.” 

Wanda leaned forward, and up my hand, slipping the purity ring off my finger. “I guess this is ours now.” 

“Please don’t- I can-“

“Shut it.” Natasha pressed the gun into my head more. “You want another black eye to match that one? You look so pretty with it.” 

“N-no.”

“Then listen to daddy. Say that, ‘I’m going to listen to daddy’.” 

“I-I’m gonna listen to- Daddy.” 

Natasha shifted, pushing one of her knees into my core, I couldn’t hide my shocking moan. 

“You’re such a slut.” Natasha growled. 

Wanda laid down next to me, “So pretty for us angel.” Her soft hands wrapped around my center and her lips pressed against my cheek. “Don't be so hard on her Natty.” 

Natasha rolled her eyes, “Open your mouth.” 

Tentatively, I opened my mouth. Wanda continued to softly kiss the side of my face and jaw. Natasha gave me a look and I stuck my tongue out. 

I tried not to shake as she slid the cool gun down the side of my face. “Suck it good baby. Never know when my finger might slip.” 

She pressed her knee further into me, pressing right on my sensitive spot. The barrel of the gun was pushed into my mouth. I didn’t know how to suck it but I pressed my lips around it. 

Tears spilled out of my eyes as she pushed it in further, then pulling it back out. She continued the process and pushing her knee into me. Wanda kissed me still, her hand starting to trace my almost exposed breasts.

Drool dripped out the side of my mouth as I let out an involuntary moan when Natasha hit the right spot with her knee. “That’s right slut. Keep sucking my gun.” 

I hated myself for the butterflies in the stomach with Natasha’s movements. My whole body got hot when Wanda’s fingers started to pinch my nipples through my shirt. 

With a pop she pulled the gun out of my mouth. Before I could process, Wanda’s lips met mine. Only my second kiss I didn’t know what to do. Luckily, Wanda led the kiss. Her lips were soft and sweet and made me melt into her, almost forgetting the situation I was in.  

When Wanda pulled away, Natasha was no longer fully clothed, instead just a pair of lacy black lingerie.

She set the gun down on my exposed stomach and grabbed both of my thighs, pushing them apart. “Oh baby, look at you.” Natasha leaned back, grabbing the camera and bringing it closer. “Look in the camera or I’ll fucking shoot you.” 

I looked in the camera. Natasha focused the camera on my almost exposed body, “You’ve got a wet spot on your panties, does my gun turn you on that much?” 

I tried my hardest not to react to the cold gun pressing against my hot pussy but I couldn’t. I gasped as she pressed it against my clit. I had barely touched it before because it was too sensitive. 

Laughs slipped past both of their lips as they watched my reactions. “Look at you blushing.” Wanda giggled. One of her hands wrapped around my throat, pressing down on the bruising that Natasha had left. 

“She’s so perfect Nat, aren’t you glad I found her.” 

I groaned in pain, unable to speak. “I’m the one that rescued her. You don’t get the credit.” Natasha snipped back. 

“She likes me more.” Wanda replied back, clearly trying to challenge Natasha. 

“She’s going to like me more once I fuck her stupid.” 

Wanda finally released my neck, I choked for air as she set the camera back on the stand. 

Natasha pushed my legs up, making me straddle her waist. She pressed the gun back into the side of my head. “Tell Mommy how much you want me to fuck you.” 

She grinded her hips into me. When I didn’t immediately speak she slabbed my face. “Want another split lip?” 

“No no please Na- Daddy please stop.” 

“You’re so fucking sweet aren’t you. Too sweet to tell mommy you don’t love her like you love me. Say you love me princess.” 

Her fingers dug into my waist, making me yelp in pain. “I love you.” I said quickly. “I love you daddy. Please stop I don’t wanna-“

“Shut up, I didn’t as you to keep fucking talking.” She pushed her hand over my face. “Put the camera on the side of the bed, now.” She said to Wanda, her eyes on me. 

“Let’s have some fun baby.” 

I cried as she left the gun on my stomach again, her fingers reaching for something on the nightstand. 

A cool sharp blade was pressed against my lips. “I’m not afraid to use this.” She whispered. 

My body shook as she traced the blade down my body, not cutting into my skin. “We don’t need this anymore.” 

She cut down the middle of my shirt, expertly not hitting any skin. “Look at these pretty things.” She traced each of my tits, setting the cool blade down on each of my already hard nipples. 

“Oops.” 

I cried out in pain as she placed a light cut on my left tit. Her lips latched around the wound quickly. Painfully sucking the skin. She didn't stop until she was satisfied, slapping the skin after. 

“Kinda want to hear her cry.” Wanda commented. 

Natasha rolled her eyes and moved her hand away from my mouth. I cried out, unable to stop the tears from falling. 

“Please stop. Please!” I yelled out. 

“Shut her up.” 

Wanda instantly was shushing me, her featherlight touches on my face. “Come on baby, be a good girl.” She scooted up so she was sitting right next to my head, “Beautiful girl, take what daddy’s giving you.” 

Natasha pressed the blade against my pussy, grinding against it. She leaned down and kissed my stomach, leaving a wake of bite marks and hickeys. I relaxed a little in Wanda’s arms.

After she covered my stomach in hickeys she picked the knife back up. I watched as she cut off either side of my underwear. 

“Please don’t I’ve never had sex before I don’t want to right now!” I yelled stupidly. 

Wanda cooed, shushing me and placing two of her fingers in my mouth. She held me firm as Natasha placed another cut on my thigh. 

“Shut up!” She yelled at me. “This is my fucking pussy and I’m going to do whatever I want with it. If you keep acting like an ungrateful whore I’ll fuck you like one.” 

Wanda’s fingers rubbed against my face soothingly as Natasha pulled the ruined panties off of me. 

“This is the prettiest pussy I've ever seen.” Natasha said to herself. She pulled my lips apart exposing me fully to her. “I can’t believe no one has fucked it yet.” 

“You worry too much baby.” Wanda whispered. “Stop worrying.” 

My brain went foggy after Wanda’s words. The only thing I could think about was the two of them. 

Natasha threw the knife off the bed, grabbing my thighs and squeezing. “Have you ever finished before?” 

I shook my head no. “No daddy.” I corrected myself, my words felt foreign. 

“Oh baby.” 

My breathing turned rapid as Natasha got down on the bed further, lining her face up “Hopefully this will help your attitude.” 

A soft sigh escaped my lips when Natasha’s lips attached to my clit. She sucked and Wanda’s fingers slipped into my mouth again. I moaned around her fingers, my mind already so fuzzy. 

“So reactive baby.” Wanda whispered. “Daddy makes you feel good?” 

I nodded quickly, my mind not even caring about the situation. The only thing I could focus on was Natasha’s lips on my pussy.

Natasha stopped for a moment and gave Wanda a look. Wanda scoffed and Natasha continued her slow assault on my pussy. 

It suddenly felt like I was pulled out of water. I awoke in my own mind, suddenly so aware of the situation I was in. 

“Stop- please-“ I tried to move my hips away but Natasha’s grip was hard. 

“Your pleas really get me going, bunny.” Natasha’s fingers played with my clit as her mouth kissed my thighs. “If it doesn’t feel good, why is your pussy so wet?” 

Any response died at my lips when she pressed her lips back onto my pussy, licking my clit. “It feels good doesn’t it baby?”

I shook my head no, but it did feel good. Natasha knew what she was doing. “Fuck-“ left my lips before I could react when two of her fingers pushed into me. 

“No please. Stop, I don't want this please!” 

Wanda’s soft hand was quick to slap me, right where my previous bruise is. “Be quiet.” She snapped. 

Natasha’s fingers did something that made me melt. Wanda laughed in my ear, “You don’t wanna stop, you want daddy to make you cum.” 

A tight sensation started in my stomach as Natasha continued to violate me. Her fingers repeated that motion as she sucked on my clit. I screwed my eyes shut, too caught up in the feeling of her. Wanda’s fingers found her way back in my mouth. 

Just when I felt myself about to fall over the peak, Natasha stopped. My eyes shot open and I couldn’t help but whine. 

“You thought it would be that easy? You really are stupid.” Natasha smirked. 

Her hand landed back on my pussy, applying pressure but not moving it. “Oh no baby. You’ve been a brat. You’re going to have to earn the right to cum.” 

Her hand began moving in circles and I gasped out. Drool spilled out the side of my mouth as she began to go faster and faster. My breaths turned rapid and she stopped again before I could finish. 

“My greedy little slut.” She slapped my pussy, teetering the line of pain and pleasure. “I wish I could fuck you with my strap but I want this time to just be us.” 

She adjusted herself, making it so that she straddled my leg, her clothes pussy on top of mine. She moved her hips and I couldn’t help but buck mine up. Wanda began kissing down my neck, her fingers wrapped around my jaw. 

“She loves your pussy angel. Tell daddy that you love her and maybe she’ll let you cum.” 

Wanda sucked a spot on my neck. I didn’t reply, I didn’t want to say that but I wanted to cum so badly. 

“I love you daddy.” I got closer to my peak as she smiled at me. 

She hoped off of me, “Not that easy.” 

“I might let you cum with this next little game.” She settled back into her original position, her face up to my pussy. “Wanda’s going to say something in your ear and you say it.” 

Red wisps wrapped around the camera and held it right in front of me. Wanda forced my face to look directly at the camera. 

Her fingers circled my clit once again, making my gasp out. 

“I love my mommy and daddy.” Wanda whispered. 

“I love my mommy and daddy.” I repeated. 

“I’m nothing but a stupid slut.”

“I- I’m nothing- fuck.” Natasha pulled her hand away again, slapping it quickly as she did so. “Please!” 

“Is she begging now? How pathetic.” Natasha slapped the skin again. 

“Start again.” Wanda whispered. 

Natasha’s lips wrapped around my clit again. “I- Im nothing but a stupid slut,” 

“I’m a pathetic whore. Daddy and mommy saved me.” 

“I-“ My whole body shook as Natasha removed her lips. I couldn’t even count the amount of slaps I got for that but it provided some relief to my over sensitive clit. 

Two of her fingers pushed back into me. “I’m- a pathetic…whore. Daddy and mommy saved me.” 

“I love mommy and daddy.” 

“I love you please please let me finish I love you-“

“Cum whore.”

Wanda’s hand wrapped around my throat, squeezing hard as my whole body shook. Nothing in my life had ever felt like this. Even when I did it myself it never felt so euphoric. The ringing in my ears stopped any noises from entering my ears. 

Natasha didn’t stop though. She kept going, maybe even faster than before. “N-no.” Slipped past my lips. 

“Oh baby, she’s not gonna stop.” Wanda whispered in my ear. “Especially not when you look this cute.” 

“Please It’s too much!” 

“You were just begging a second ago.” She cooed, “Daddy just wants to make you feel good.” 

The pain subsided, and pleasure seeped through every pore of my body. My back arched off the bed with my second orgasm. Natasha’s fingers slowed as my body fell back onto the plush mattress. 

With one final slap to my pussy she sat up, her hands running up and down my thighs. “Your poor pussy, it’s so swollen.” She commented. I shrieked as she ran a finger along my senstive bud. “You taste heavenly, can’t wait to do it again.”

tag list: @homnef

[antianakin]

Yeah, I think I was focusing more on the worldbuilding aspect of it in this post than the narrative/emotional/character development aspect of it, but I feel like it got discussed in other reblogs back when I first posted this.

I think that that's likely an intended reading, that Anakin WANTED her lightsabers to match his (and Obi-Wan's) in a way that would be immediately obvious. They're meant to represent their relationship and the connection between the two of them, and THAT'S why I think she got rid of them at the end. Practically, she leaves them behind in order to make it look like she died on the moon (although the very obvious grave sites for all the clones is a pretty massive indicator that SOMEONE survived), but symbolically I think it's meant to show that she has to leave that part of herself behind, the optional future represented in those lightsabers. Anankin wants her to come back to the Jedi, wants her to come back to HIM, and that's what the lightsabers are. She says it out loud later to Yoda, that she's not ready YET to come back, but her acceptance of the lightsabers from Anakin tells him something similar nonverbally, too. But after Order 66, that option is gone. So by leaving behind the saber, she is leaving behind the option to be a Jedi again, too.

Setting the worldbuilding aside for a second, it's still pushy. Because Anakin is sending her a very specific message by giving them to her, he's trying to convince her down a specific path, forcing her to either reject the very useful weapons or accept them and everything they represent along with them.

But bringing the worldbuilding back in, it can easily go from pushy to INVASIVE and offensive. In The Gathering, we see those kids have to go through REALLY personal trials in order to acquire that crystal. We see something similar happen with Ezra in Rebels and Cal in Jedi: Fallen Order, as well. Acquiring a crystal is intensely personal to the Jedi. They can obviously pick up other lightsabers and use them just fine, we see Anakin and Obi-Wan do this in AOTC and we see Obi-Wan do it in TCW. So it's not IMPOSSIBLE that there are spare kyber crystals lying around the Jedi temple that Anakin was able to go grab and utilize for his own purposes. But it means removing the crystals that Ahsoka had PERSONALLY EARNED for herself and replacing them with random ones just to make them look like his, without ever consulting her about it. What did he do with the original green/yellow crystals? Are they now down in the Jedi storage, or did he keep them? He doesn't offer them to her at all, just in case she doesn't like what he's done. She has NO OPTION but to accept them as is and accept the loss of the original crystals. And that feels kind-of invasive and offensive to me. Yes, Ahsoka left the lightsabers behind, with the crystals in them, but still. Why would Ahsoka PREFER to have new random crystals from storage instead of the ones she'd earned herself?

Having spare parts, including crystals, in case Jedi need them on a short term basis and can't get to Ilum, is one thing. But replacing someone else's crystals in their lightsabers with random ones just to make them suit someone else's aesthetic purposes and send a deliberate message feels... So Wrong. In so many ways.

Like I mentioned in my original post, you could've gotten a VERY similar emotional gesture by just having him give her back her ORIGINAL lightsabers. It implies that he just carries them around with him everywhere, either as a reminder of her, or in the hopes that he might bump into her and be able to return them, or both. Maybe he can tell her that he's been continuing to maintain it and keep it clean and in good working order. And it keeps the same symbolism of wanting Ahsoka to return to the Jedi and to him, it's a symbol of their prior relationship, a life Ahsoka had chosen to give up but could still return to if she chose to, and then ultimately has to COMPLETELY leave behind later. It would've done all the same things but without the weird creepy aspect of how Anakin changed the color, and honestly I think it just works better.

Anakin changing the color of Ahsoka's lightsabers is such a weird writing choice to make because it honestly makes zero sense with everything we've been shown or told up until then about how lightsabers work.

In the Gathering arc, we see all of the kids pick up what appear to be pretty similarly colored white crystals, but they don't all end up with the same color lightsaber. We hear them discuss the importance of choosing the design of the hilt to suit them, but never once hear them discuss any importance to choosing the COLOR of the saber. There's never any indication that the Jedi can choose the color of their saber, it's effectively chosen for them when they're led to a crystal to begin with.

The only other times we know someone can change the color of a crystal is bleeding and purifying which requires a lot of effort and appears to result only in red or white blades.

So for Anakin to have changed the color of Ahsoka's sabers from green/yellow to blue, either we need to completely discount that worldbuilding and assume that the hilt provides the color somehow and can be engineered differently, or Anakin somehow found two new crystals that he was able to confirm were blue and replaced her crystals with the new ones.

The option was there to just have Anakin have adjusted the design of hilt if they wanted to have Anakin do something to her lightsabers that was invasively sweet in a typically Anakin sort of way, to make them match his and Obi-Wan's more or something. Or if they wanted it to be genuinely sweet, he could've just given her back the sabers normally. And instead, they just... threw out everything we ever knew about the lightsabers just to give Ahsoka sabers that they were going to have her throw away in 3 episodes anyway and never get back. I don't really see the point of it when the lightsabers have no emotional impact upon anything.

[abbielauren2024]

Sonic 4 Scene Idea

Hey all! Just had the thought that maybe the opening scene of Sonic 4 could go something like this:

(Start scene)

Sonic: Who are you?!

Amy: Oh my gosh it’s you! It’s really you!

Sonic: Um… I noticed?

Amy: I’ve heard so much about you, Sonic the Hedgehog! And to think that I’m here and you’re here and you’re not dead…

Sonic: Sorry, who are you?

Amy: Oh sorry, I can get a bit ahead of myself.

(Amy takes off her cloak to reveal her in her pretty red dress. Sonic freezes, never having encountered a girl hedgehog before. Especially not one this pretty.)

Amy: I’m Amy Rose, it’s an honor to meet you, Sonic the Hedgehog!

Sonic: uh… um… *clears throat* nice to… meet you too… but how do you know me?

Amy: Well, where I come from, everyone knows about you! You were a legend!

Sonic: Yeah that sounds about right… wait, WERE?!

Amy: (Looks down sadly) Yeah… in the Great Battle with Mephiles, you… you never made it out. He was too powerful and devastated the world.

(Sonic looks like he’s seen a ghost and steps back, looking at his hands in horror.)

Sonic: I… die?

Amy: *tries to comfort him* But never fear, Amy Rose is here! I found you, didn’t I? And we won’t let it happen again.

Sonic: Yeah about that… how did you find me? If you’re from the future where I’m… you know… dead… then how did you know how to find me?

Amy: Well, you weren’t the first hedgehog I ran into.

(Amy steps to the side, and Shadow emerges from behind a tree.)

Sonic: SHADOW?!

Shadow: Greetings, Faker.

Sonic: Shadow!

(Sonic runs over and nearly knocks Shadow over with a hug)

Shadow: Woah woah, what was that for?

Sonic: I thought you were dead! I was so worried!

Shadow: *cocks his head* Why?

Sonic: You’re my friend, of course I care!

Shadow: Friend…

Amy: Yeah, I kinda thought he was you.

Shadow: This pink hammer-wielder ran up and tried to attack me.

Amy: I wasn’t trying to attack you! A hug is not an attack!

Shadow: You wrapped your arms around me and pinned my arms to my sides. How is that not an attack?

Amy: Okay that is seriously sad.

Sonic: Don’t worry… Amy… once everyone else sees that Shadow survived and he gets welcomed into the Wachowski family he’s gonna get all the affection he deserves! *Gasps* Oh my gosh we could be twins!

Shadow: No. Not gonna happen.

Sonic: Yes yes yes we could get matching beds and… and oh my gosh you even reawakened on my B-earth day, so we basically share it! We’re twinsies!

Shadow: The more you say the word ‘twin’ the harder I want to hit you.

Sonic: Like a true twin would!

Shadow: You little—

Amy: Guys, guys! We can work this out AFTER we save the world, got it?

Sonic: Yeah, I guess you’re right. We gotta stop that cosplaying tin can and his noobs first.

Amy: You mean Metal Sonic?

Sonic: NOW THAT’S JUST PLAGIARISM!!

Shadow: Who would want to imitate this faker?

Amy: He was a cyborg created by Dr. Robotnik…

Sonic/Shadow: EGGMAN?!?

Sonic: He survived?

Shadow: No one could’ve survived that explosion!

Sonic: The guy’s like a cockroach!

Amy: At least in my timeline, yes. He was alive and well until Mephiles claimed the Flames of Disaster.

Sonic: Wait wait… the Flames of Disaster?

Amy: Yes…?

Sonic: *Looks like he’s gonna be sick* How did Mephiles get the Flames of Disaster?

Amy: Well, Iblis was once sealed inside a vessel, a living being strong enough to never cry. But when a tragedy finally broke the spirit of this vessel the flames were released and set the world into the apocalypse.

Sonic: Knuckles!! We have to go!

Shadow: The echidna?

Sonic: Yes! He’s in danger!

(End scene)

Aaaaand, there you have it! Please don’t mind my rambling, but if you made it to the end of this you’re probably a nerd like me and dont mind lol. Also I had the thought that maybe in the movies they’ll have Knuckles replace Elise in the events of 06, since it showed him getting the Flames of Disaster, and everyone knows that Knuckles is not one to cry. Buuuuuut…. What is Knuckle’s deepest passion? Ding-a-Ling! Honor and family. So if one of his brothers—say maybe Sonic for example—was brutally killed in front of his eyes while he was helpless to stop it, chances are he would finally break *sobs*. Also, maybe Amy and Metal could be from the same future as Silver, Blaze and Mephiles, since I’ve heard there will be multi-verse and time-travel elements in Sonic 4.

Also idk if Jim Carrey will come back as Eggman, but I really hope he does! I don’t really think Metal can carry an entire movie as the villain like Eggman can, or maybe they’ll have Stone take Robotnik’s place. We’ll see! The movies haven’t disappointed me yet, so I doubt they will with such an excellent cast and crew.

Also I got the idea of Sonic and Shadow being twins from this incredible post here:

And also I kinda feel like Shadow and Sonic would act a lot like Donnie and Leo from Rise of the TMNT lol.

Let me know what you think :)

[shipper4everships]

BuckTommy Fluffebruary: Day 16

~AU: didn’t know they were dating~

It all started by chance. Buck had just started his service at 118th station, while Tommy was in the process of transferring to station 217. Tommy’s transfer was delayed, so they began working together. Tommy was usually a composed and somewhat introverted guy, not quick to let people close, but Buck was so sincere and open that Tommy let his guard down.

They became friends, and Tommy showed Buck some of his secret tricks that helped him on the job, which later came in handy for Buck on calls. 

"Hey, you only told me about them in my second year here - why does the rookie get such privileges?" Eddie asked teasingly. 

On their days off, they sometimes went to the gym together or invited each other to the bar for a beer and to watch a match. 

"I thought you weren't very into basketball before, Buck. Something changed?" Chim in with a grin. Buck just waved off the question.

When it came time for Tommy to complete his transfer to station 217, he briefly thought about refusing it because he was afraid their communication would end. But Buck turned out to be better than he could have imagined and supported Tommy’s decision to transfer.

"If flying is your dream, then you have to follow it!" 

Tommy couldn’t argue with that.

Now they didn’t see each other as often, but they were always in touch. There were nights when they both stayed up until morning, texting or talking on the phone about everything under the sun.

"Buck, you look awful... You were up all night talking to Tommy again, should I tell him to stop messing up your schedule?" Hen said, half-seriously, half-joking.

"He’s not messing anything up, I called him first!" Buck blurted out, then realized what he’d said.

They continued meeting occasionally at the bar, but it became harder to sync up due to shift changes. One day, Tommy suggested Buck come over to his place for a couple of hours so they could see each other, and Buck gladly accepted.

They kept visiting each other to watch movies or cook together. Until one day, the moment happened: Buck cuddled up to Tommy while they were watching a horror movie, and Tommy turned to him and kissed him in the dim light of the room. To Buck’s surprise, he didn’t pull away. On the contrary, he eagerly joined in.

Since that evening, not much changed between them, except that their texts became more flirtatious, their touches more frequent, and that kiss on the couch wasn’t the last, but rather the first in a series of others.

They wished each other safety before every shift, and it was always the case, but now it felt different - as though there was something more behind that wish, as if they started caring for each other more.

Buck wasn’t sure how to feel about it, but he was afraid of losing the connection that was growing between them, so he decided to keep everything between the two of them and see where it could lead.

Was it really a surprise when, not long after, they slept together for the first time in Buck’s loft? They didn’t talk about it or anything that happened between them, but Buck lay in bed in Tommy’s arms the next morning, feeling like he was exactly where he needed to be.

Maddy called him a few days later and invited him to dinner at the Buckley-Han house, and Buck enthusiastically agreed.

"Buck, I just wanted to check… if you want, you don’t have to come alone," Maddy said cautiously.

"…What do you mean?" Buck was caught off guard by her words.

"Maybe you’ll introduce us to your boyfriend?"

"Boyfriend?" Buck asked, glancing at Tommy, who was sitting across the table from him. Tommy had overheard Buck’s part of the conversation and looked at him. In his eyes, Buck saw curiosity and something more… maybe hope?

Buck ran through their relationship over the past few months in his mind, and everything in his head and heart finally fell into place.

"Yeah, you’re right." Buck smiled into the phone. "Set another place at the table because I’m bringing my boyfriend." Buck said those words and caught Tommy’s answering smile.

When he hung up, Buck leaned across the table, and warm lips met him halfway.

He wasn’t sure where this would lead, but now he knew. Now he would do it right. @bucktommyfluffebruary 💗

[mxspikedfruitcake]

AU where Bruce isn't Batman. But he is Matches Malone.

Instead of wanting to fight off criminals on the streets, he leans more into being a detective, which Alfred is much more receptive to, up until he learns exactly what Bruce classifies as a "detective".

So, he still went into training to hone his mind or whatever, only to return and take the identity of the first crime boss he could find who died, who just so happened to be one Matches Malone.

He obviously can't be seen as Bruce Wayne doing shady dealings with any rising villains, but nobody would bat an eye at some random mob boss doing it.

Making honest business with the Penguin, Black Mask, and Two-Face, funding Ivy with plant reservations so she doesn't go psycho, and getting Killer Croc on his feet, stealing pretty much everyone's henchman for himself, bribing cops to lock away the richer criminals, he still saves people and tries his best to clean up Gotham, but not through blatant crime-fighting.

The Commissioner and Matches still work together often, though under very different circumstances. Any violent criminals who try to break the structure of Matches' empire usually end up in custody by the end of the hour, and in return, the Commissioner lets Matches go on any crimes he commits. Not that there's very many, as he's already loaded, and all his crimes usually just involve burning down the bases of any criminals stupid enough to disrupt the House of Cards that Matches as set up. The only other crimes he commits are the very frequent raids on several houses, all of which are his own properties, he just wants to give the more desperate criminals money without them getting suspicious.

It'd be even wilder once Grayson's parents die, as thanks to his connection, Bruce knows who did it before his parents hit the floor. Bruce as always, takes him in, and tells him who did it.

Considering it'd be worse not to tell your kid that you go undercover as a crime boss, Dick gets mad and go hunts him down, incidentally becoming Batman himself. Bruce doesn't mind this, after all, at this point he owned so much of the Gotham underground, it's frankly his duty to let his son clean up any criminals who think they can go rouge.

When Jason dies to a stray criminal named Red Hood, Bruce Wayne decides to play dirty. He "cuts off the shares" with Matches, who then tells all his crime buddies, including ones that need his money, that thanks to Red Hood, he can't afford to fund them. They don't take too kindly to that, and sure enough, the Joker is created by the end of the day, and magically, they get their funding back next week.

And as he collects more and more orphans, they form the legend of Batman, and while everyone thinks Matches isn't scared because he's a badass, it's more so the fact that he's just so proud of his kids. Besides, they'll only shoot at him if he forces them to go to one of his galas, so he's usually safe.

[ridiasfangirlings]

It's Halloween and Munakata wants everyone to participate and go in costume. On their side, HOMRA also wants to participate for fun in the city's Halloween event. Without even discussing it, somehow Yata and Fushimi's costumes matched.

I feel like this is one of those things that would definitely happen to them, they just have a wavelength like that. Say there’s this huge Halloween event planned in the center of the city, it’s expected to draw huge crowds and be really popular. As such it’s also the perfect place for criminals to try and hide their activity, especially since everyone will be in costume. S4 gets intel that some criminal Strains are planning to sneak into the event to cause chaos and as such Munakata decides that the force will attend the party and act as security. Of course if they’re in uniform it will be obvious and the Strains might manage to give them the slip, therefore the only sensible course of action is that everyone has to wear a costume (imagine Munakata is just a little too excited about this, like yes his plan makes sense but the squad are like does Captain just want an excuse to wear a costume and attend a Halloween party). Fushimi is naturally not a fan of this but Munakata makes clear that it’s an order and if Fushimi doesn’t wish to pick up a costume Munakata would be happy to pick one out for him. Fushimi sighs and stops off at a Halloween store near the office, picking up the first vaguely okay costume he can find.

Meanwhile Homra’s also learned about the party and they’re worried about keeping the peace too — but more importantly, Anna has never been to this type of big Halloween party and they want to take her. Totsuka decides that they should all dress up and accompany her, there will be a lot of fun things going on so the Homra guys can have a good time and de-stress. The Homra guys are much more into this than S4, they’re ready to dress in cool costumes and party all night. Yata’s taking this pretty seriously too, he wants to have the coolest costume so that even Mikoto-san will be impressed. He goes to a few different stores looking and finally he sees one that he thinks is really awesome, feeling pretty proud of himself for finding something this cool.

Halloween arrives and Homra head out to the party all decked out in their costumes. While the sun is still up everyone hangs around Anna and encourages her while she plays some of the games that are set up for kids and wins a few prizes, as it starts to get dark though Mikoto, Totsuka and Kusanagi take her back to the bar. Totsuka tells everyone else to keep enjoying themselves and the Homra guys all start milling around the crowd having fun. Yata decides to go get a drink and as he’s at the punch counter he accidentally bumps into someone. Yata quickly apologizes and then hears a familiar ‘Misaki’ in response. 

Yata immediately yells ‘Saruhiko!’ all ready to fight…and then there’s this long pause as Yata and Fushimi realize that they are both wearing the exact same costume. Yata accuses Fushimi of copying his super cool costume, Fushimi snorts and says he knew this was a worthless costume, he only chose it because there was nothing else. Yata’s like no way this costume is too cool for you, Fushimi expresses surprise that Yata could even fit into the costume without it being too long for his stumpy legs. I imagine they keep squabbling back and forth until Totsuka happens to rejoin the party, he walks over to them all how nice that you two decided to match. Yata and Fushimi both snap that they did not decide to match and Totsuka just smiles all what good friends you two are, isn’t it nice to be on the same wavelength as another person.

[wildstar25]

MiqoMarch Day 28 - Adventure

O, what great adventure awaits beyond that horizon?

[bigskydreaming]

The thing that kills me about the Star Wars prequel trilogy and why I will die on my hill that my problem is not that Star Wars is a tragedy, its that its a badly written tragedy, is that Anakin Skywalker was at his closest to being a good Jedi when he was ten years old.

[encrucijada]

might be silly and write bullet points for a possible tears of the kingdom fic 🫶

[thawthebeez]

girl help the sugakage brainworms are eating me alive noooooooo

[salmoncakepls]

..

[arolesbianism]

I love drawing Aris as sif so much she's so cutsies. It almost makes up for the horrors of having to draw her as sif. Almost.

[weezerlvr228]

It's giving the...main character syndrome. like who tf does she think she is??? Y/N???

NO OH MY GOSH ANON. LET ME TELL YOU. LET ME FRIGGIN TELL YOU.

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

A murder mystery film set in a medieval village. After an outbreak of plague, the villagers make the decision to shut their borders so as to protect the disease from spreading (see the real life case of the village of Eyam). As the disease decimates the population, however, some bodies start showing up that very obviously were not killed by plague.

Since nobody has been in or out since the outbreak began, the killer has to be somebody in the local community.

The village constable (who is essentially just Some Guy, because being a medieval constable was a bit like getting jury duty, if jury duty gave you the power to arrest people) struggles to investigate the crime without exposing himself to the disease, and to maintain order as the plague-stricken villagers begin to turn on each other.

The killer strikes repeatedly, seemingly taking advantage of the empty streets and forced isolation to strike without witnesses. As with any other murder mystery, the audience is given exactly the same information to solve the crime as the detective.

Except, that is, whenever another character is killed, at which point we cut to the present day where said character's remains are being carefully examined by a team of modern archaeologists and historians who are also trying to figure out why so many of the people in this plague-pit died from blunt force trauma.

The archaeologists and historians, btw, are real experts who haven't been allowed to read the script. The filmmakers just give them a model of the victim's remains, along with some artefacts, and they have to treat it like a real case and give their real opinion on how they think this person died.

We then cut back to the past, where the constable is trying to do the same thing. Unlike the archaeologists, he doesn't have the advantage of modern tech and medical knowledge to examine the body, but he does have a more complete crime scene (since certain clues obviously wouldn't survive to be dug up in the modern day) and personal knowledge from having probably known the victim.

The audience then gets a more complete picture than either group, and an insight into both the strengths and limits of modern archaeology, explaining what we can and can't learn from studying a person's remains.

At the end of the film, after the killer is revealed and the main plot is resolved, we then get to see the archaeologists get shown the actual scenes where their 'victims' were killed, so they can see how well their conclusions match up with what 'really' happened.

[classyrbf]

PERSONAL TRAINER! — GOJO SATORU

SYNOPSIS...just some small little nsfw headcanons about personal trainer!gojo hehehe

INFO...personal trainer!gojo x fem!reader, gojo is touchy and pervy, sex in a gym, sex in the showers, oral (f!receiving), rough sex, praise, nipple play, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

personal trainer!gojo who you have the fattest crush on. You didn’t expect your personal trainer to be the hottest guy you’ve ever laid eyes but here you are

personal trainer!gojo who claims he’s a hands on trainer, demonstrating moves and helping you adjust your position and posture

personal trainer!gojo who is right behind you as he bends you over to make you touch your toes, his large hands on your as he pushes you down further and further “You got it…there we go. Yeah, good job.” You swear you almost melted right then and there

personal trainer!gojo who begins to compliment you everytime you walk in the gym, noticing how you always have your matching set on and how he can tell the workouts are really starting to shape your body like you hoped

personal trainer!gojo who gets you all hot and bothered when he’s doing push ups shirtless, sweat dripping down his godlike body, his grunts and groans filling your head with such perverted thoughts that you had to excuse yourself to the bathroom

personal trainer!gojo who pretends like he doesn’t know he has an affect on you, purposely doing what he does just so he can see you get all flustered and riled up, he thinks it’s so cute

personal trainer!gojo who has you two do a late night workout session with only you two in the gym, you come in with your matching set and water bottle with a smile on your face, not a single thought behind those eyes on what he plans to do with you

personal trainer!gojo who makes you lay on your back and stretch your legs upward and toward your chest, his hands gripping your calf and pushing back, hovering over you as hiss at the stretch. “You can take it, I know you can.”

personal trainer!gojo who notices you look away from him, avoiding eye contact as he pushes your leg further and further, his hips pressed up right against your throbbing heat. His hands glide down to your thighs now, tossing your legs over his shoulders. He knows exactly what he’s doing

personal trainer!gojo who has you leggings ripped open minutes later with his thick cock shoved inside your pussy, pounding you into the gym floor while you cry out his name

personal trainer!gojo who’s got you bending in all types of positions, each one making your eyes roll back at the way he hits that spot deep inside you. “This is what we were practicing for, sweetheart.” His chuckle sends chills down your spine

personal trainer!gojo who has cum around his cock so many times you can’t even form words, mindlessly babbling before you’re squirting around his cock again, screaming in pleasure

personal trainer!gojo who eats pussy like a champ, slurping, licking, spitting all over it while he moans at your taste and scent. He’s got your legs pushed back all the way to your chest as his tongue expertly circles your puffy clit, taking one of his long, thick fingers to rub against your g-spot

personal trainer!gojo who even fucks you in the showers, hot water cascading down your skin, his hands mushing your face up against the wall while he fucks you like a slut but tells you how much of a good girl you are for taking him so well

personal trainer!gojo who loves your titties so much, always cupping them, squeezing them, twisting your cute perky nipples until you’re a whining mess

personal trainer!gojo who is still your personal trainer despite everything that happened between you two, allowing you to come over his house to workout instead of the gym just so he can have you all to himself and fuck you whenever he wants

personal trainer!gojo whose idea of cardio isn’t running or walking, no, he just ends up fucking you in his bed for several hours until your both dazed and drunk off of sex

personal trainer!gojo whose only plan now is to train you to take his cock until you become absolutely addicted to the way he stretches you out and makes you cum so hard

[mostly-imagines]

Sugar on the Rim vol. II

bruce wayne x afab!reader

aka the billionaires new friend

part one

warnings: heavily implied that reader is a virgin, age gap (bruce is older than reader), smut, oral fem!receiving, nervous but enthusiastically consenting reader

You’d tried to calm your nerves but they couldn’t be helped.

You’re anxious about everything, all of it. What he wants you to do, what he’s expecting you do, whether it’ll hurt, whether you’re ready.

You think you trust Bruce, but you also know that these things are different for men and women. You don’t necessarily expect that he’ll have a mind for what you’ll need, but honestly, neither do you. You don’t know what to do to make this easier for yourself—you don’t know what to do at all. 

You bought the lingerie, you’ve got it on under your clothes and it feels like a costume. You can’t tell if that aids or worsens the anxiety. 

You’re fidgeting with the hem of your skirt and you wish you could quit it, you’re radiating enough nervous energy as it is, you don’t need to be sending him visual cues on top of it. 

Bruce holds your free hand in his as he guides you through the manor, you think it’s a different section than you’ve seen before. His hand engulfs yours unfairly as he leads, but the touch of his skin is so warm and inviting that you can’t tell if your hand is still shaking under it. If it is, he pretends not to notice.

He guides you up the stairs and into a corridor and then another before you arrive at a set of double doors. You’ve never seen double doors on the inside of a house before.

He lets you in ahead of him, and you have a distinct thought that you’re glad he can’t see the look of awe on your face as you walk in. His bedroom has an entire living room inside of it, and altogether it’s bigger than your whole apartment. A maroon couch and matching chairs surround a grand fireplace at the front of the room and the resulting glow from the active embers has the area shrouded in a warm light ahead of the shadows filling the rest.

You glance past the seating at his bed; large and proud. It’s definitely bigger than a king sized, with an overhead canopy and streams of dark burgundy curtains draping down from the corners. There’s another set of closed double doors past the bed, you imagine leading to the bathroom.

The end of the room displays a large window seat that looks like it’s never been used, and vast tinted windows. You look up to find the ceiling higher than you’ve ever seen in a bedroom with a very expensive chandelier hanging over it all.

He takes your arm, steering you out of your wonderment and leads you towards the couch rather than the bed, gesturing for you to sit down with him. You do, quietly glad when he positions himself so that you’re close to each other but not pressed right up against you. He’s able to relax his body more than you’re able to fake it on yourself, and you think your thoughts must be vibrating out of you by now.    

One hand comes to rest on your thigh as his other nudges your cheek towards him. “Hey, nothing’s happening right now. No need to be nervous.”

You nod blankly, but your thoughts are running wild with everything that you very much are nervous about.

He takes your hand in his, rubbing circles with his thumb. 

“You’ve got to relax,” he coos, “Remember what I said?”

You take a breath, “You’re not going to throw me in the deep end.”

“Exactly,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead. “Just wanna make you feel good, right?”

You nod, easing your posture.

He looks you in the eye, “You gonna let me?”

You hum, nodding again.

“Good girl,” he purrs, pulling away.

You quickly find that the distance is not at all what you want, and you decide to push forward—as forward as you can—sitting up again to peel your jacket off. He watches you move with a look in his eyes, you take it for intrigue but it may just as well be something akin to pride. Pride in you? He’s openly flirted, kissed you, and straight up propositioned you for sex—but sure, he’s proud of you for taking your jacket off.

Your nerves transition into insecurity before you can catch them, and you’re starting to feel a little stupid, like a child playing pretend.

You watch tentatively as he tilts his head at you, running his own assessments of your actions. 

“Will you come sit on my lap?” he asks you after a moment. 

You suddenly become acutely aware of the amount of air in your lungs. This feels like a big request and you’re not even sure how to take his meaning. Does he want you to sit sideways? Your back to his front? Or fully straddle him? 

He wants whatever you want, he’d said. What do you want?

You glance down at his thighs, covered by fabric more expensive than you can imagine. Positive confirmation rings through your head immediately, willing you to push yourself forward a little more. 

You reposition yourself over him, straddling his lap in spite of your nerves.

Again, he looks pleased. Happy even. One of his hands comes to stroke soothing patterns across your lower back, the other resting on your waist. 

He makes sure to catch your gaze, “You’ll tell me if you want to stop.” 

He follows when your eyes stray, “Yes?”

“Yes.”

He places a tender kiss on your cheekbone, “How did shopping go?”

“Um, good. It was good. One of the sales girls helped me,” your breath is shaky as he kisses your jawline.

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

“I, uh, I just went to this little boutique up on third street,” he places another kiss on the column of your throat as you talk. “Um, it took longer than I thought it would. There were so many choices.”

His hands come up to soothe over your ribs, pulling you a little closer as they do. He hums for you to keep talking, his kisses continuing to lower until they’re down to your collarbone, though they remain relatively chaste.

“I—I didn’t really know what to look for,” you admit, breath shaky as you exhale. 

“But you like it?”

“Yeah, I—I do.”

He hums, smiling against your skin. His fingers inch under the seam of your shirt, caressing your waist. “Can I take this off?”

You nod timidly, trying not to seem so on edge with anticipation. You’re not confident that he can’t see right through you.  

He presses another chaste kiss to your neck upon receival of the permission, and your shirt begins to come off slowly, his hands skimming every new bit of skin revealed. As he pulls it over your head, he glances down at the baby pink bralette you’d picked out for yourself.

He groans quietly as he takes in the sight, “Oh, pretty girl. Beautiful girl,” He noses at your chest, leaving little kisses where his lips make contact with your skin, “Look at you. Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Your stomach flutters as his hair tickles your cheek. His hands roam up your sides, stopping to stroke placid circles along the sides of your breasts.

His touch makes its way around your back, expertly undoing your bra clasp without a second thought. Your bra hangs forward a bit off your shoulders, but he leaves the work of entirely removing it to you. And you do, with more confidence than you’d imagined yourself mustering.

He immediately shows his appreciation, kissing and caressing your chest with lover-like admiration. Your head falls back involuntarily as he noses at your soft skin.

He’s breathing heavy when he pulls back, humming low and deep before lifting you up off his lap to stand. The sudden shift has you a bit thrown off, working to catch up as he kneels down in front of you and repeats his earlier process with your skirt—kissing your thighs and tugging the fabric down bit by bit.

When it’s discarded on the floor you stand only left in your underwear, the lace practically illuminated against your skin.

He looks up at you from his place on the floor and smiles as he takes in the sight of your body. His hands find your hips as he asks you, “Has anyone ever seen you like this before?”

You hesitate for half a second before answering truthfully.

His smile grows, “No, you’re a good girl, aren’t you?” 

He doesn’t wait for an answer before he’s nodding, “Yeah, I know.”

As he rises to stand he scoops you up by the back of your thighs and lifts you in the air with no discernable effort. Now at face level with him, you get a bit bolder and lean in to kiss him. He kisses you back, pleased, beginning to walk the two of you over towards the bed.

He sets you down gently atop the soft mattress, kisses pushing you backwards to lie back on the bed. He scoops your wrists up and leisurely moves your arms up above your head. His grip is benign as he releases one hand in favor of holding your jaw. Your kiss is deep and controlled on his part, but in a way that makes you feel light in the head. You like the cloudy-sensation very much.

After a while, he pulls back to look at you with clouded eyes. 

He practically purrs, “You’re such a kind girl. So sweet to everyone, all the time. Will you let me be sweet to you?”

Your breath is shaky as you nod, attempts at hiding your anticipation failing.

He nods back at you with a faux-sympathy across his face. “Let me hear you say it.”

You force air into your lungs, giving you the willpower to speak the words. “Will you touch me? Please?”

The corners of his lips turn up, “Of course, sweet girl.”

He nips at your jaw as his hands travel down, petting the inside of your thighs with a touch so feather light it almost tickles.

Your knee jerks inward towards his hand, your body desperately seeking out more of this new sensation. He obliges, tracing his touch back up, up, up until his hand dips under the lace trim of your panties, skimming over your clit. Your hips flinch back away from him momentarily in surprise, only to press back forward a second later.

He actually laughs at the action, like it’s endearing. You feel a little silly for it, but you’re not given much time to dwell as he persists, brushing against you with a bit more pressure.

He tilts his head, watching your expression carefully with a remarkably pleased look on his own face. “How’s that, sweet girl?”

You nod, beside yourself. “Feels good,” you whimper. “Feels really good..”

You don’t necessarily mean to, but your hips grind up against his touch, your body too mesmerized with the sensation to remember to be embarrassed.

He’s certainly not complaining about it though, his quiet coos encouraging you to chase the feeling. 

He lets you grind up against his hand, taking in the needy look on your face with contentment.

“Poor girl,” he tuts. “Just need somebody to take care of you, huh?”

That makes your cheeks burn, but your attention finds itself more concerned with the urge to squeeze your thighs together.

You whine when he pulls his hand back out of your underwear, only for him to stand resolute in his actions. 

“Not yet, sweet thing,” he hums, pressing you back down to the bed with a light but firm touch when you try to sit up. 

He hushes you gently, murmuring for you to be patient as he shifts his position over you. 

He starts to move down your body, leaving kisses in his wake. The sensation of his lips tracing down your stomach has you feeling butterflies.

By the time he reaches your waistline you’re borderline dizzy from the anticipation, squeezing your legs together in an attempt to alleviate the ache.

He pauses there for a moment, torturously, and noses at the seam of your panties. A whine from you has him chuckling and finally moving to where you need him.

He kisses your clit over your underwear and you’re fighting thoughts of embarrassment over how sure you are he can taste how wet you are over the fabric.

It doesn’t seem to be enough for him though, as he tugs your panties down slowly, kissing your thighs as he goes.

Bruce’s hands hold onto your waist as he eats you out, holding you in place with an easy grip. 

You squirm against the feel of his tongue and you can’t quite figure out what to do with your hands. You almost wish he’d made you keep them above your head but really you’re not sure you’d be able to keep it together if he had. You’re not sure you’re keeping it together now.

He groans against your pussy, and one of your hands flies to grip his hair without permission from your brain. If you’re being honest with yourself though, your brain isn’t really the one calling the shots anymore.

You gasp when he licks a bold stripe, “Bruce—”

He groans again, briefly breaking away from you. “Oh, say that again.”

You sigh out, “Bruce, please.” 

He makes a pleased hum. “Good girl,” he murmurs before diving back in. 

He complies with your pleas generously, giving you more. He’s gradual but resolute as he inserts two fingers into you, giving you the time to adjust. But he’d evidently done a very thorough job prepping you for it, you’re so wet that the initial entry doesn’t sting like you’d expected. No, rather the first thing you register is closer to pleasure. A lot closer.

He begins to pump in and out of you at he continues to suck at your clit, and somewhere during you have a distinct thought of “oh this is it.”

You let out a little gasp and for once, you break out of your own head and just relish in the way his fingers curl inside you.

The way your thighs squeeze around him as you come, doesn’t hinder him one bit, only has him applying his ministrations with more intent. It doesn’t take long for the trembling of your body to give way to full on shaking, your body stuttering beneath him.

He continues working at you the entire way through your orgasm, until you’re flinching from overstimulation. 

He gives you one more lick before looking up at you with hooded eyes. “Y’taste sweet too, you know that?”

You can feel the blood rush to your cheeks as he starts to move back up to face-level, kissing the high point of your cheekbone.  

He pulls down on your bottom lip, your slick wet against your mouth.

You open without question, a clouding urge to please him the only thing running through your mind. 

He grumbles a low, pleased sound as you do, moving his hand only to provide room for him to kiss you again.

He sits back up over you and starts unbuttoning his shirt and you realize only now that he’s still fully dressed. 

He glances down to his belt as he undoes the buttons. 

“Will you help me out, sweet girl?”

You blink a couple times before registering the request, still overwhelmed by how quickly and skillfully he’d made you come. 

You struggle a bit to push yourself up into a sitting position, but he supports you by your waist, nipping along your jaw as encouragement.

Your hands shake as you undo the clasp, and while you’re still very much eager, if not moreso, you’re suddenly confronted with the very real possibility that you’re about to have your limits pushed. He ate you out and did a damn good job, stands to reason that he’d want you to return the favor.

So it takes you by surprise when he’s nudging you back against the pillows, removing his pants himself.

He keeps you occupied with an intense kiss as he does, and the distraction so smooth it’s almost like it’s rehearsed. 

You follow his lead easily, though surprised by his lack of desire to get his fill too.

He drapes himself over you nicely, his size easily dwarfing you out. He’s quick to block your chin from tilting down, gently bringing your face back up to meet his. 

He shakes his head lightly, murmuring, “Don’t worry about that. I got you.”

You are worried about it, but you trust Bruce, you know you do now.

You feel the weight of his cock against your stomach, at this exact moment, feeling like not much more than a daunting task.

“S’alright, sweet girl,” he lulls, brushing your hair back. “Okay?”

As heavy as the simple question is, you don’t need to think about it before you’re nodding and moving your hand to hold onto his bicep.

He peppers kisses all over your face as he starts to push in, effectively starting to distract you from the pain of the stretch. He hushes your whines soothingly and kneads at your waist with confident hands.

Your arms lock around his shoulders on instinct, your eyes squeezing shut as you try to convince yourself he’s almost all the way in, but you know you’ve got aways to go.

He pauses halfway, imploring you to open your eyes so he can check up on you properly.

“Talk to me, sweetheart,” he softly urges.

You will yourself to blink up at him and try to take on the challenge of both him and his gaze. Surely, an impossible task.

But you manage shaky eye contact that occasionally gives way to glancing down at his lips. 

It doesn’t feel good yet, but it only makes you more eager to keep going.

“I’m okay,” you nod, taking a breath. “You can keep going.”

He waits to find that reassurance in your eyes before he continues to push in, bestowing you a deep kiss in reward for your bravery.

Once he’s nearly bottomed out he waits a moment, then begins to rock in and out slowly, letting you get used to a starter of the sensation.

He brushes your hair back, weaving through the strands. “There we go,” he coos as you look down between you. “Doing so good.”

Your gasp is louder than they had been before, and closer to a sigh now. 

He’s fucking you gently, with a decorum that exceeds what you’d earlier told yourself you were stupid for hoping for.

It doesn’t take long at all for his movement to start to feel really good and your grip around his shoulders comes around to a different kind of intensity.

He noses against your jaw, applying kisses whenever  convenient. “‘S that feel good, sweet girl? Hm?”

He hits a particularly deep spot in you immediately after and it makes you borderline squeak. He huffs out a laugh that’s nothing short of affectionate. 

“Yeah?”

He then attacks that spot with extra intention, hitting it absolutely expertly every time. He speeds up a little, lips latched onto your neck as he fucks you nice and deep.

He drops a hand down between you and starts rubbing circles onto your clit with a pace that makes you want to scream.

You can’t help the moan you release when he teeths at your neck, clearly aiming to drive you crazy. But damn if he isn’t going about it the right way.

His circles pick up pace and you can be sure you’re leaving nail marks on his back. He seems to only get more encouraged by your sounds, working you closer and closer to the edge with every whimper.

He finally lets you over after a minute of shamelessly relishing in your moans, himself following close after.

He continues moving in and out of you until you’ve both completely finished, slowly coming to a stop. 

You get a moment to catch your breath before he pulls out delicately. You don’t even realize he’s moved before he’s got his boxers back on and is halfway to the bathroom.

You’re a little alarmed by the sudden shift in proximity, though you guess that’s the playboy experience, isn’t it? After a second you hear water running and assume he’s taking a shower.

You push yourself to sit up fully, minding your achy thighs, and swing your legs over the side of the bed. You glance at the foot of the bed where your underwear lies, then back over by the couch where the rest of your clothes lay discarded. You briefly contemplate how quickly you can get your clothes back on when the bathroom doors open again.

You glance up at Bruce, dazed, who looks surprised himself to see you sitting up. As he makes his way back to the bed you notice the supplies he has in tow and your brain begins to slowly start turning its gears again.

You don’t realize the glass of water in his hand is for you until he’s pushed it into your palm. 

His other hand carries a wet wash cloth that you, again, aren’t able to register the purpose for until it’s in action. 

“Drink,” he tells you as he spreads your knees apart gently, wiping away the mess between your legs with a notable amount of compassion for your sensitivity.

You do, gulping a few as he finishes, tossing the rag in a hamper before setting your glass down on the side table.

Your eyes return to the end of the bed and you nearly decide to get up, but he’s still standing so close to you, you’re not sure this is the right time.

You seem caught halfway between decisions now, you know you do. You’d honestly preferred when you thought he’d just ditched you for a shower because at least then this part wouldn’t be so awkward.

He watches you closely as you deliberate and seems to draw a conclusion about your hesitation rather quickly. His brow pinches as he processes, tilting his head at you. 

“You’ve got to be joking,” he says, bewildered. “Right?”

“I—” you falter, looking to the couch and back to him again. “No?”

He stares at you for a moment with an expression you can’t define.

“Lay down.”

You don’t have a second to process before he’s climbing back in bed too, pulling you down to lay your head on the pillow.

He pulls the covers over you and splays an arm over your waist, clearly firm in his decision for you to stay.

Your eyes are heavy and his bed is so comfortable, it’s difficult for you to even consider either of you wanting you to leave now.

Maybe you’ll just sleep for a little while, get some of your energy back. 

The way he traces soft patterns across your stomach certainly encourages the idea and doesn’t give you much power to resist.

You let your eyes flutter shut to the feather-light touch and listen to the steady deepness of his breaths.

Well, this isn’t so bad either.

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