spockiguess

[spockiguess]

Griffin Dunne as Jack Goodman AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON (1981) dir. John Landis

[spockiguess]

Hey are u still active?

I'm still here! I've just been in a major writer's block and am currently trying to work my way through it. I'm sorry for not having put out any new content, but I try to hold my fics to a certain standard to keep the quality as good as possible, but nothing I've written so far has held up to that standard. I have so many ideas for fics and really want to put some out, so hopefully within the next month or two, you all will be seeing something from me.

[spockiguess]

Breeding Jealousy Part 1 || Peter Quill x Fem!Reader

A/N: This took me way too long to finish, but here’s the first part of a two (maybe three, no promises) part series. Thank you so much to Sav for helping me edit and leaving very silly comments on my Doc. I know my Quill fics are so incredibly out of left field, but my track record shows that this should actually be expected! So hah! Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this even if it took me a couple of days. I’m thinking of writing a Peter x Male/GN reader, so let me know if y’all would want to see that. 

Warnings: Smut, Use of Terms like Cunt and Pussy

Pairing: Peter Quill/Female Reader

Sure, you loved being a Guardian, but it definitely came with its hang ups. Be it the death-defying dance you had to walk every time you encountered another fuckhead with god-like abilities or the sickening injuries sustained from those perilous fights, being a part of Peter Quill’s infamous group of heroic outlaws took a heavy toll most days. 

Lately, you’ve been finding yourself exhausted beyond comprehension and in dire need of release. So, after much pushing from Mantis and even Nebula, you decided to have a night where you let all inhibitions loose and finally got dicked down in the way you most deserved. 

And that came in the form of you putting on your tightest, blackest, latex dress that just barely covered your ass and smearing on the sultriest makeup you could think up all to visit one of Knowhere’s many clubs. Being a planet made up of mostly outlaws, the people knew how to fucking party. 

Excitement coursed through your veins, and you exited your tiny bathroom ready to conquer the world. 

Futuristic black heels clacked against the metal floors of your shared housing with a resounding confidence as you traversed multiple floors and staircases, purse in hand. 

You felt alive for the first time in eight months, and when you entered the common area, you acknowledged Peter–your captain and longtime crush–with a nonchalant wave, barely even bothered by the way he looked you up and down multiple times. 

“Where’re you going?” Peter asked incredulously. 

“Out,” You answered back excitedly, a wide grin plastered across your face. 

With a shocked expression, Peter muttered to himself doubtfully, “Out. Yeah, right. Out,” before he spoke up again, “So where is this out?” 

Pausing just before the door, you turned back to Peter, unwavering, “Korthax.” Peter spluttered, knocking over his drink and immediately rose from his seat. 

“You’re going to Korthax looking like that? Why?” Peter crossed his arms and you sighed knowing your fun would have to wait until Peter’s little interrogation was over. 

Deciding not to answer his question for now, you teased Peter, “Looking like what, exactly?” Peter just scoffed and motioned to your body, as if that explained everything. 

Rolling your eyes playfully, you shrugged, “I’m just going out to have fun and hopefully sleep in a bed that isn’t mine tonight. Does that bother you?” 

Peter scoffed again, completely unwilling to believe what he was seeing, “Yes, actually, it does bother me.” 

This time, you were the one to scoff, “Okay, why? I’m an adult, aren’t I? I get to choose how I spend my free time.” 

Peter wasn’t having any of it and crossed the room in a few long strides, getting right in your face, “Not when those choices could put you in a ton of danger.” Peter gave his best serious face but rejoiced internally, totally satisfied with his response. His argument had practically no holes, he thought. 

“Right, because when we face off against literal gods, that’s fine. But when I want to go out, then it’s a problem. Thanks, I get it now.” You were being a little rude and extremely sarcastic, but at this point, you were fed up with Peter’s sudden interest in your personal life and how you conducted it. 

Peter short circuited, his brain literally could not think of one smart response to that. With what you were insinuating, you were right. Peter himself constantly puts you in danger, so why is now any different? 

Still, Peter wasn’t a man known for backing down against good logic, so he doubled down and got even closer, “Do you know how dangerous some of these people are? At least with the people we fight, you know what they’re capable of. Here, you’re at a disadvantage– you feel too safe.” 

You were also extremely hard-headed, so you got closer as well, your faces just mere inches away from each other, “These are your people, are they not? You banter with them, you literally call them family. And now they’re suddenly big scary monsters just waiting to take advantage of me? What a crock of shit.” 

Peter blew a big puff of air out of his flaring nose, obviously annoyed with your indignation at his abrupt prodding. Peter was backed into a corner, you were much smarter than people gave you credit for. Speaking harshly, Peter began, “Fine. You want the truth?”

You cocked your head to the side, your face sprouting a vicious smile as you rested your hands on your hips, “Yes, Peter, I’d love the truth.” 

A minute passed before Peter finally began to swallow all of his anxiety and fears regarding his feelings about you, he reasoned it was about time to let the truth flow anyway. “I like you. I mean, I really like you.” 

Peter spoke lowly, his voice a resentful whisper, “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since the first day I saw you. So imagine being me, seeing you, wearing that, and you’re talking about spending your night with some cheap lowlife when I’m right here. Now that is a crock of shit.”

Oh. Well, that certainly puts a dent in your plan. Well, fuck it, you thought. Taking Peter’s face in your hands, you pressed your soft, rouged lips against his and pressed your body against him, trying to communicate the utter want you’ve felt for him ever since you joined his ragtag band of misfits. 

Peter groaned wantonly, his calloused hands flying to the seat of your ass and squeezing greedily as he deepened the passionate kiss. Fireworks went off in your head. It was all finally happening. 

Peter’s tongue swiped against your lips and you opened them in hazy approval, letting him dominate your very being with not one complaint. 

Soon, you had to break away to catch your breath. A single strand of saliva kept the two of you connected before it broke off and landed on your chins. A fog of lust clouded your minds and the only thing you could think about was getting in the other’s pants. 

Peter was one step ahead of the curve though, and before you knew it, you were being hauled up and over Peter’s shoulder. With a yelp, you dropped your purse and your already short dress rode up even farther, leaving you shivering at the feeling of the cool air hitting your thinly clothed pussy. 

Peter noticed this immediately (you swore his brain was wired to scope out anything even slightly appealing within a ten mile radius), and slapped your bare ass, commenting, “Seriously, a thong? How desperate were you?” 

You slapped his ass in return, “Oh, fuck you.” 

“You’re certainly about to,” Peter grinned wickedly. 

Eventually, you made it to Peter’s cramped bedroom and he carefully laid you on his raggedy bed, admiring you for a long moment. Having abandoned your heels on the trek there, you teasingly ran one of your feet against Peter’s tented pants, beckoning him closer. 

Peter hastily obliged and dove in, kissing you wildly as he bunched your dress above your hips and situated himself between your spread legs. His large hands traversed your mostly naked skin before his fingers hooked under the waistband of your thong and yanked them down. 

You gasped and Peter took this opportunity to capture you in another heated kiss while his thumb slid through your slick folds and honed in on your throbbing clit. Moaning, you kissed Peter back feverishly, your hand coming down to grip his wrist as he rubbed your clit in slow circles. 

Breaking apart once again, Peter kissed along the length of your neck before biting your collarbone, then soothing the mark with his tongue. Your other hand flew to Peter’s hair which you grabbed a tuft of and tugged. Peter groaned, pressing against your clit harder, causing you to moan in return. 

Sliding down your body, Peter’s face aligned with your weeping cunt before he gave you a cocky look (one eyebrow arched, smile devilishly lopsided) and licked a hot stripe along your pussy, his mouth locking around your clit.

You bucked into Peter’s face and pulled at his hair even more, jerking at the vibrations his breathless moans sent straight into your aching core. Everything felt hot: your body, your soul, the very air in the room, you couldn’t focus on a single thing. 

All you knew in that moment was Peter’s eager mouth licking and sucking at your most sensitive spot with a hunger unparalleled. The action sent a blindingly hot energy rippling through you, like an electric current traveling through a copper wire, making you gasp in pleasure. 

Your fingers wound tighter into Peter’s luscious hair as you felt this energy ball up in the depths of your core and send radiating shockwaves that caused you to yell Peter’s name like it was a divine prayer capable of saving you from this sinful hedonism. 

Wetness dripped from Peter’s chin as your body spasmed and that energy finally released in a seemingly cosmic explosion that sent stars reeling across the universe. Still experiencing the aftershocks, Peter came back up and kissed you long and hard, his hand coming to hold the back of your neck.

Feeling somewhat devious, you gathered up the gumption to lock your legs around Peter’s waist and force him onto his back with a blanket-muffled thump. Not wasting a second, you rearranged yourself so that you were now sitting between Peter’s muscular legs. 

The outlaw was still wearing his faded jeans, so you made quick work of them by popping the button, pulling the zipper, and tugging both his pants and underwear down in one swift motion. 

Peter smiled widely, chuckling, “Eager, aren’t we?” You grinned, watching as his dick sprang to life and slapped against his toned belly. It was big, in both length and width, and you wondered if you’d even be able to take half of it in your mouth.

You were a trooper, though, so you took his thick cock in your hand and retorted, “Oh, I can be bored, if you want,” mirroring his actions from earlier, you licked a wet stripe from Peter’s base to his tip, locking eyes with him before continuing, “That is totally do-able.” 

Peter rolled his eyes, about to make a comeback when you hoped for the best and swallowed as much of Peter’s dick as you could in one fell swoop. 

“Fuck!” Peter cursed, his hand flying to the back of your head and grabbing a bunch of hair. 

Peter’s immediate reaction only fueled your intense desire to please and you took more of his length into your mouth, trying to stop your gag reflex the moment his cock hit the back of your throat. Curly brown hairs tickled your nose once you reached the hilt, and you soothingly rubbed the sides of Peter’s thighs before resting your hands on his, pushing down to signal that you would really like to be face-fucked. 

Peter got the memo and swore again before bracing himself against the bed. Not a moment passed before your mouth was being used like some sort of personal masturbator and tears quickly filled your eyes as Peter’s dick ravaged your throat. 

What kept you going was hearing Peter’s utterly indecent moans and achy whines as he got himself off, desperately chasing his own nearing climax.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” Peter whined, head falling back against his pillow.  

Soon, Peter’s breath began to hitch and his hips pistoned into your mouth with such speed that it almost made you dizzy. Only a few minutes later did Peter finally still and pump hot cum down your throat as his fingers dug further into your hair, keeping you right in place. 

Peter cooed, “That’s right, baby, take it all,” before he finally let go of your head. Catching your breath, you wiped some of the remnants marking your lips and made a show of licking it off your fingers. Peter was already getting hard again, but seeing that made all the blood rush from his head to his cock. 

“That good?” you teased, climbing back up Peter’s body. Peter only nodded before kissing you deeply, you could taste each other’s essences on your tongues. 

Feeling beat, you plopped down next to Peter’s still-heaving body after wrangling yourself out of your clothes and snuggled closely, burrowing your face into the crook of his neck. Peter decided to ignore his dick for the moment and wormed his arms around your waist, bringing you even closer. The sun began to rise outside of his window, but it didn’t matter as the both of you fell asleep within moments. 

#peter quill #peter quill x reader #peter quill x you #peter quill fanfiction #peter quill fanfic #gotg #gotg3 #no spoilers #gotg fanfic #gotg fanfiction #smut #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy 3 #guardians of the galaxy vol 3 #fanfic #fanfiction

[spockiguess]

Drunk On You || Peter Quill x Reader

A/N: So this is just a random, short oneshot. I really cannot explain myself. 

Warnings: Smut, Overstimulation

Pairing: Peter Quill x Reader

God, you loved Peter’s curls. You didn’t know how, but they were so soft and bouncy under your greedy hands. Currently, you were running said hands through Peter’s hair, tugging on his copper locks as his tongue explored your dripping cunt while his thick fingers fucked your aching hole. 

Because of your grabby hands, Peter moaned into your sensitive pussy, sending shockwaves throughout your live-wire body. As he lapped at you, your wetness began to drip from Peter’s chin and onto the floor in shiny puddles, but Peter didn’t mind, he loved getting messy. 

So he sucked at your clit while you practically screamed his name, your fingers lightly scratching at his scalp. Peter kept going and going until he could feel your body physically vibrate from the amount of pleasure he was giving you. 

Moaning, you tried to warn Peter of your incoming orgasm, but Peter didn’t even flinch. He just thrust another finger into you and pressed against your g-spot until you were seeing stars, your toes curling and thighs tightening around Peter’s head. 

You came on Peter’s tongue and he lapped all of it up, he was so pussy-drunk, he didn’t know what else to do other than eat you out. So even though you were squirming beneath his hungry mouth, Peter’s strong arms held you down and kept your shaking thighs wide open for him. 

“Fuck, Peter, I can’t–” You tried pushing Peter’s face away, too raw from overstimulation, but Peter just looked up at you with his big doe eyes and kissed the insides of your legs.

“C’mon, baby, just one more.” Peter’s words were so slurred, you could barely understand him, but with that single look, you obliged with a nod. 

Peter dove back in immediately, pressing his fingers against your clit while he thrust his tongue into your weeping cunt. You couldn’t handle the mix of pleasure and pain, your brain literally beginning to scatter. 

Still, Peter held out and fucked you silly on his tongue. The air felt so hot and cold at the same time, your body didn’t know how to react. But, once again, he was able to pull a mind-shattering orgasm from you as you bucked wildly on his face. 

Coming down from your high, you noticed with an alarming speed that Peter was still eating you out, and not slowing down one bit. You screamed his name and yanked at his curls which just caused him to moan and for another set of vibrations to ripple through your body. 

Your breathing quickened again and your third orgasm was steadily approaching, much faster than the other two. 

Your body almost couldn’t take the stimulation, but when Peter mumbled, “You taste so fucking good, I love you so much,” against your pussy, you were done for. 

A third orgasm tore through you like a tsunami, scrambling your brain and causing drool to leak from the sides of your mouth. It was too much, and finally, you pushed Peter away, whining from the overstimulation. 

Peter rested his head against your thigh and looked up at you, a drunken smile spreading across his face, “Sorry, baby. I couldn’t resist.” You watched as your slick dripped from his mouth and shined under the low lighting of the Benatar.

With a heaving breath, you collapsed against the table Peter had you sitting on the edge of while Peter kept his place between your legs, just waiting until you were ready for another round. 

#peter quill #peter quill x reader #peter quill fanfiction #peter quill fanfic #smut #fanfic #fanfiction #gotg #gotg3 #gotg fanfiction

[spockiguess]

prior to that nsfw tyr/odin ramble would u care to write an nsfw drabble dedicated to that ??? 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️ size diff and all,, morally ambious;;; probably in odin's pov.. pretty please 🙏🙏🙏

delusions

pairing: odin!tyr x gn!reader

description: odin’s been noticing how touchy you’ve been towards him ever since he was ‘rescued’ from svartalfheim, makes sense as you were tyr’s partner. he knows he shouldn’t indulge and politely turn down your advances, but you just look so good, he can’t resist.

warnings/tags: nsfw, odin!tyr, odin’s a bastard, could be seen as dub-con/non-con since you believe odin is really tyr, manipulation, bruises, size difference, biting, based off this post

note: thank you for your request! this is my first god of war work on this blog and i’m pretty satisfied with it. i didn’t write full on sex, but if you want to see that maybe i could write an extended version? lmk! when i posted that odin/tyr ramble i didn’t expect anyone to agree with me, so imagine my surprise when i saw fellow odin fuckers show up 😭 i did struggle a bit with keeping the pov strictly odin, so i did what i could. anyway, thank you again and i hope you enjoy this! i had fun writing it :)

everyone was finishing the last of their dinner when your voice spoke out above the common bickering between brok and sindri. “tyr, could i speak with you in private? that is if you are not required elsewhere.” odin’s temporary golden eyes rose from his empty bowl to lock with your gaze, watching as you expectantly glanced over at kratos.

“no. do as you wish.” said man spoke, his booming voice earning a small smile of thanks before you rose from your wooden chair. “of course, beloved. what do you need?” his much larger hand reached out to slip into yours and he let you gently drag him towards your room that sindri so generously allowed you to use. “i’d like to do this in my room, if that’s alright?” you didn’t wait for a response as you both entered the room. ‘rude’, odin thought. there was a moment of awkward silence before you both took a seat beside each other on the bed far too small to fit someone of tyr’s size.

it didn’t take long for you to initiate the conversation, turning to the side and placing your other hand on the back of odin’s. “i don’t want to sound.. insensitive, when i say this.” your voice stayed smooth, but odin could tell something was bothering you enough for you to not want to say it. which by the way, annoyed him to absolutely no end. he can add this to his never ending list of cons from his experience as ‘tyr’. with a sigh, odin gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “whatever you have to say, i know you mean no harm.” he smiled, “take your time.”

his own words made him want to roll his eyes. time was modest, and he didn’t want to waste his on this moment. though he knew his dear son would waste away to nothing if it was for you. so that’s what he’ll do.. for the mean time, that is.

you brought odin’s hand up to your mouth to press a kiss onto it, holding it to rest lightly on your lips as you thought of your next words. “i know it has been a long time since we’ve seen each other, and there are more important things we need to be worrying about at the moment..” you began to trail off, rambling on and finding words to circle your point. odin sighed and removed his oversized hand from yours, instead placing both of them on either side of your head, thumbs caressing your cheeks. “forgive me for interrupting, but i worry for you. tell me what’s on your mind, let me help.” odin couldn’t help but let himself admire the look on your face. your eyes, slightly wider than usual and your cheeks warm against his foreign palms. he wouldn’t deny your beauty, never has. as much as he hates to admit, one of the very rare things he’s remotely jealous of, was you and how he could never have you.

“okay. okay, i’m sorry.” you closed your eyes and swallowed, holding onto odin’s wrists. “i would like for us to indulge in a little normalcy like once before, spend the night in each others embrace.” eyes locked on odin’s, straying occasionally to observe the face of the lofty god.

‘oh?... oh.’

“oh.. well,” odin began, clearing his throat and surprisingly finding himself stumped. his first instinct was to push you away from him and excuse himself from the room. the look on your face is ultimately what got him. the pure hope mixed with slight embarrassment had his blood boiling in all the right- no, wrong places. this is the last thing odin should be worried about. yet here he is, mind rapidly filling with images of you beneath him, his hands squeezing and groping your body and skin rubbing against skin.

he could feel tyr’s skin heating up, sweat collecting on his forehead and his heart pulsing just a bit faster than usual. “yes, yes i.. i would like that.” his words left his mouth faster than his brain could comprehend, but yet he didn’t feel any regret. he knew this was wrong, he also knew that’s why he was even more aroused by it.

that was all it took for odin to take your chin in his hand and shift forward, “are you sure?” your nod came quick and he suppressed a smug grin at your eagerness.

it wasn’t long for the both of you to get undressed, your bare back now pressed against the soft fur of the bed, odin’s mouth and hands traveling across your neck and torso. getting lost in the moment, he began to squeeze the meat of your thighs and couldn’t help but nip at them, surely creating a few bruises. a squeal of surprise came from your throat and you gazed down at him, eyes sparkling and pupils blown. “tyr- you’ve never done that before,” odin tensed as if he got too carried away, but the sight of your overly reactive and excited body eased his worries. “please, do it again.” your request immediately clouded his brain, just as the sensation of a new bite clouded yours.

maybe he could get used to this after all.

Copyright © [2023] by [rohansregret]

[spockiguess]

HIS ARMS MAN. HIS GODDAMN ARMS.

I CAN NO LONGER CONTAIN THE BEAST

[spockiguess]

there’s a video of heimdall’s voice actor singing Pony by Ginuwine and i don’t really know how to handle that information

#god of war #god of war ragnarok #heimdall

[spockiguess]

A Whole Lot Of Something, I’ll Tell You What || Heimdall x Female Reader

Dedicated to Ash

A/N: So...I wrote a Heimdall fic, heehee! This one is LOOOOOOONG, like fuck me, brother. I’ve been hunched over my ‘puter for the past couple of days yanking this one out of my ass (like I do with all my other fics) and it’s finally done! Yippee! My friend, Ash, was with me the entire way, cheerleading me to finish (thank you for that, by the way). So, I hope y’all enjoy it! Leave comments and suggestions below, they’re highly appreciated!

Warnings: Smut, use of terms like cunt and pussy, jealousy, Heimdall being a cocky shit

Pairing: Heimdall/Female Reader

Night fell upon the realm of Asgard, hushing voices and lulling the land’s children to sleep as the moon rose in the sky, its milky light shining through your window, illuminating your naked form. Your skin was alight as if orange embers were dancing just beneath the surface, and your breath came in quick gasps and silent moans. It took everything in you to keep silent when your hand worked diligently at your sopping cunt. 

Lusty visions flooded your mind, absolutely consumed your heart and soul, and you couldn’t keep yourself from moaning his name. With a whine, you called him out as you rubbed your clit, imagining it was his hand instead of yours. You wondered how full his fingers could make you feel, pressing against the spongy spot inside of you until you came all over his palm. 

Warmth washed against your face at these thoughts, but you couldn’t feel shame for it. You were too lost in your own pleasure to even notice how loud you were getting. Surely you’d wake someone up. 

Still, you cried out his name, unknowingly beckoning the very man you thought of, “Heimdall! Please!” you cried. 

Your voice drifted down the hall, and soon feather-light steps fell in quick succession just outside of your door, “This better be good,” then came to a screeching halt. Heimdall stood like a deer caught when he heard another one of your moans. Before, Heimdall assumed you were hurt, whining like a lost child for his help, but no, now he knew exactly what you were up to. 

“Oh, you dirty little minx,” Heimdall was as hot-blooded as any healthy mortal man and couldn’t stop the pang of arousal from shooting down his spine when he crept closer to your door. Heimdall also couldn’t prevent his hand from reaching around the door handle and pushing just enough to let a sliver of light leak from your room. 

Your cries rang true in Heimdall’s head, fluffing his already enormous ego to preposterous amounts as he chuckled under his breath. There you were, just mere meters away, begging for him like a wanton whore.

With rapt, violet eyes, Heimdall watched as your legs spread even wider, shaking from the rough stimulation your hand was providing. What truly caught his attention, though, was your dripping cunt glinting underneath the moonlight. Heimdall’s cock strained in his trousers, and he could barely restrain himself from palming it.

Deciding to indulge himself further, Heimdall looked into your mind and saw a truly erotic sight. It was you on all fours; head pushed into the pillow as Heimdall took you from behind at a monstrous pace. You were practically screaming his name, begging to cum as tears fell from your eyes. It was delicious. 

Whispering to himself, Heimdall stated haughtily, “Don’t worry, my little minx. I’m here,” before moving to open the door fully.

Suddenly, Heimdall was thrust back into reality when he felt the hard grip of the All-Father’s hand on his arm, stopping him from even opening the door another inch. Whipping around, Heimdall stared into a singular, disgruntled eye before being harshly yanked away. 

“What are you doing? Why are you stalking around like some peeper?” Odin hissed. Odin was the only person who could cause Heimdall to falter, and the blond stuttered, tripping over himself. 

“I was just– they were–” Odin dropped Heimdall’s arm and walked, already knowing Heimdall would follow and mocked him the entire way.

“Ah– ah– ah– what? You some sort of creep now? Sjá hvat, first a drunken oaf for a son, then…nevermind, you’ve got work to do.” Odin plopped in his seat with a certain finality that told Heimdall he was in for a long mission.

Days had passed since Odin dragged an unwilling Heimdall into his study, and Heimdall returned to the grassy pastures of Asgard covered in blood that wasn’t his and seriously craving release. His bones ached, and his head throbbed, leaving Heimdall exponentially more annoyed than usual. 

Einherjar and Valkyries alike watched the ravenous Heimdall stalk towards the Great Lodge, set on his path. The only thing on Heimdall’s mind was you. He knew that you’d be willing to give yourself over the instant he asked, and this knowledge fueled his trek as the gravel pathway crunched underneath his thundering feet.  

Nearing the entrance, Heimdall swung the heavy oak doors open with ease, cock already springing to life with the memories of your needy whines calling for him. He could almost hear them now. 

Turning a corner, Heimdall saw Thor’s massive body blocking his view of your door, and anger flared through his being at an interstellar speed. Why, in all the Nine Realms, would his ape brother be standing in front of your room? 

As he approached, Heimdall could hear Thor’s laughter mixed with yours, a familiar sound to him– a sound he reckoned was only his to hear. This only stoked the fires of rage burning deep within Heimdall’s stomach. 

Speaking before thinking, Heimdall shoved Thor’s back roughly, “What’s so funny, you stupid lug?”

Slowly, Thor turned around and began to invade Heimdall’s personal space, but that didn’t matter to the mind-reading Aesir god. No, what mattered was you standing behind the beast of a man, still laughing light-heartedly. 

“Oh, c’mon, he wasn’t doing anything!” You protested as the laughter rapidly began to die down. 

Heimdall didn’t respond, though, simply locking his gaze with yours. Sparingly, did Heimdall give you this look. You were in trouble. 

Swallowing, your voice was small when you spoke, “Nevermind, Thor. I think it’s best if you go.” Heimdall grinned menacingly, such an obedient dog, you were, he thought. 

Not even sparing a glance at Thor, Heimdall started, “Yes, big brother. I believe it would be the best for everyone if you took your putrid stench elsewhere.” Heimdall clapped a patronizing hand on the god of thunder’s back, causing him to cast a worried glance your way.

You nodded at Thor, urging him to leave. You had only faced Heimdall’s wrath a select handful of times and were taking your best measures to do damage control. After a second of hesitation, Thor huffed before stomping off. 

It wasn’t long before Heimdall reached out and grabbed your hand, less-than-gracefully pulling you into your humble room and slamming the door behind you. Like a purple-eyed leopard, Heimdall advanced on you before your back hit your desk. You squeaked in surprise, the whole situation only fueling your intense desire for Odin’s right-hand man. 

Heimdall’s hands came to rest on either side of your waist, his fingers digging into the polished wood of the desk. Being in such close proximity to the god, you could smell the lingering scent of bloodshed on his skin, mixed with his usual leathery sandalwood musk. It made your head spin, and it took everything in you to focus on what was at hand. 

“So, dearest, were you having fun with my brother?” Heimdall sneered. Normally, Heimdall didn’t stoop to such petty depths like jealousy, but it was hard to ignore the feeling twisting in his gut, considering you were screaming his name just days ago. 

Reeling from the new nickname, you answered, “We were just talking,” you whispered before quickly asking, “Are you upset with me?” The thought of Heimdall genuinely angry at you made your stomach churn uncomfortably, and you prayed for his mercy.

Heimdall softened, having read your mind, and brought a hand to brush your cheek gently. His thumb swooped from just beside your nose to below the edge of your eye as if he were brushing a tear away, and you realized just how big his hands were in comparison to your face. 

“Oh, I’m not mad at you. Far from it, in fact. I’m just deeply disturbed by Thor’s lack of boundaries. Does he not know who you belong to?” Heimdall was thinking out loud at this point, but what you focused on was that last part. Your chest tightened at the idea of being Heimdall’s, and you leaned into his touch, already willing to do absolutely anything for the god. 

Heimdall sensed this, of course, and pride surged through him as he smiled deviously, gold teeth shining in the torchlight of the Great Lodge. 

“Yes,” Heimdall hissed, “Tell me you’re mine.” Heimdall could feel his erection waking back up, and he leaned closer, lips just millimeters away from yours. 

Without hesitation, you stated, “I’m yours.” Heimdall rewarded this by finally touching you, his hands flying to your waist, thumbs rubbing circles into the material of your tunic.

“And you don’t care about my ogre of a brother one bit, right?” You nodded avidly, which made Heimdall hum in approval. 

“I don’t care about Thor. Or anyone. Just you. Only you.” Once the words were out, Heimdall growled, lips locking with yours in a heated embrace. 

Your arms flew to wrap around Heimdall’s neck as he pushed your pelvis into his. Through his trousers, you felt the generous outline of his cock, and your stomach flipped in anticipation. You knew Heimdall was gifted, but Gods, you were almost scared of how big he’d be. You wondered if he’d be able to fit inside you.

Heimdall groaned, reading your thoughts; you were perfect at stroking his ego. Pausing, Heimdall separated from you, watching as a line of saliva kept you connected before falling on your plump lips, “All will come in due time, dearest.” 

And just as quickly as you had parted, you were kissing again. It was passionate and familiar, full of years of longing and want all finally coming to fruition. You moaned into Heimdall’s mouth, giving the Aesir the perfect opportunity to lick inside it, tongue pressing against yours. 

You throbbed and rocked against Heimdall’s hips, hoping to relieve some of the tension. Gods, Heimdall almost couldn’t keep up with you. Almost. 

Choosing to be his usual self, Heimdall broke the kiss before asking, “Why don’t we play a game?”

You gave Heimdall a worried look, but he quickly squashed your fears, “Don’t worry, precious, I’m sure you’ll like it.” Again, that evil smirk was back, and it left you all the more intrigued. 

“It’s called: How Long Can You Last?” You were about to speak when Heimdall interrupted, hands snaking beneath your tunic and running under the hem of your trousers, “I’m sure you’re dying to know how to play, so I’ll graciously explain.” 

Heimdall’s hands stopped their travels and instead moved upward, and getting the hint, you raised both arms above your head. With ease, Heimdall removed your tunic before stopping to ogle your chest. 

Taking both breasts in hand and massaging, Heimdall continued, his voice noticeably deeper, “You see, I’ll touch you however I please, and you have to keep from cumming until I allow it. Understand?” 

Arching into Heimdall’s touch, you moaned out a yes. Sufficiently pleased with your response (and himself), Heimdall explained further, rubbing your nipples until they hardened into stiff peaks, “But if you do cum before I say, well, I’ll just have to chain you up naked for all of Asgard to see, won’t I?” 

His breath was hot against your ear when he teased, “Oh, who am I kidding? You’d probably like that.” 

Looking away, you felt a new flood of warmth tinge your cheeks. Heimdall quickly grabbed your chin, making sure to be gentle for now,  “Ah– another rule before we begin. You have to keep your eyes on me the whole time. No looking away, pretending to be all bashful.” Heimdall gave you a knowing stare, and you nodded, accepting his rules. 

“Good girl. So good for me,” Heimdall whispered sweet nothings into your ear as one of his hands maneuvered back down your stomach to worm under the top of your trousers before cupping your covered cunt. 

Heimdall’s middle finger ran along the length of your pussy, and feeling how soaked your undergarments were, he teased you again, “We’ve barely begun, yet you are already so wet! You must have been waiting for this moment for years.” Heimdall punctuated the end of his sentence by lightly slapping your already sensitive pussy, earning a yelp from you. 

“Mm, how I love the noises you make.” You were about to whine, desperate for Heimdall to give you more, but considering the god of foresight had little patience as is, he acquiesced and shoved your underwear to the side before plunging his middle finger into your inviting cunt.

Heimdall groaned at the feeling of your tight walls fluttering around his finger, already imagining how good your pussy would feel wrapped around his cock.

Moaning, you bucked into Heimdall’s hand, relishing in the feeling of his palm grinding against your clit as he worked you. Soon, Heimdall added his ring finger, then another, stretching you wide before pistoning his fingers into your cunt, aiming right for that spot inside of you each time. 

Your whole body shook from the force of it, and within just a couple of minutes, your orgasm was hastily approaching. Remembering the god’s words, you warned, “Heimdall, wait! I’m gonna–” 

Suddenly, Heimdall’s fingers were gone, and you whined high in your throat at the loss, your hips rocking for more, “Such a greedy little thing, aren’t you?” Heimdall’s face was downright devilish as you locked eyes. Then, Heimdall brought his hand to his mouth, sucking the digits and moaning at the taste. 

You could’ve cum from that sight alone before Heimdall’s hand was back in its original position, fucking you senseless. Electricity crackled through your veins as your legs shook violently, your orgasm steadfastly approaching once again. The feeling was quicker this time, and you assumed it would continue to get faster the more Heimdall kept this up. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to stop from cumming, then. 

With a raspy voice, you clung to Heimdall and whimpered in his ear, “Heimdall, it’s–” In a flash, the Aesir removed his hand again, inspecting the slick that dripped from his fingers with a satisfied grin. 

After allowing your orgasm to dissipate, Heimdall went right back to it, this time kissing you wildly, earning a pleased moan from deep within your throat. The added sensation of Heimdall’s lips on you brought you to that peak for a third time, and like a good dog, you alerted him, “I’m gonna cum, Heimdall! Please, let me cum!” 

Heimdall continued his movements, pressing his palm further against your clit, “I should make you beg more often.” 

The match struck, and you screamed out Heimdall’s name, nails digging into the white cotton of his tunic as your whole body trembled from the overwhelming force of it. Wetness soaked Heimdall’s hand and seeped through your pants, coating the insides of your thighs. Heimdall’s hand didn’t slow or stop, however, as he kept his assault on your pussy up until you were practically crying from the overstimulation. 

The pleasure nearly turned to pain before Heimdall relented, gently moving his hand away and using the other to support you as you almost toppled over, “Easy there, sunshine.” 

You slumped against Heimdall’s chest, chest heaving and legs physically weak, when Heimdall suddenly picked you up bridal style and carried you to your bed. You sunk into the blankets, hands reaching out for the god. 

Before climbing into bed with you, Heimdall removed your ruined trousers and threw them off to the side. Settling in behind you, Heimdall wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled into your neck.

With a hoarse voice, you asked, “Wait, what about you?” 

Heimdall kissed your shoulder, “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about me.” 

#heimdall #godofwar #god of war ragnarok #god of war #gow ragnarok #god of war heimdall #heimdall x reader #heimdall x female reader #fanfic #fanfiction #god im almost sick of typing heimdall this much

[spockiguess]

Update || January 27, 2023

Happy New Year! I’m so sorry I’ve been inactive for this long, especially to all the sweet, amazing people who’ve requested fics. I’ve been getting over some mental (and physical) illnesses and had family visit for the holidays, but I’m finally getting back into the groove of writing, so hopefully, I’ll have something out soon! No promises!

[spockiguess]

Update: December 4th, 2022

Hey y'all, just wanted to let my beautiful request-ees know that I am working on what y'all have requested, but the past couple of weeks have been challenging to say the least.

For the person who requested the fic where Tyr is shy because he hasn't received affection in a hundred years, im splitting that into two parts because i want the first part to build up the tension, and the second part to, well, yknow. I want people who just want fluff to get that in the first part, and the people who don't can get straight to the smut in the second part. Easy smeezy.

Im working on these fics in the order they were requested in, and since that was the first one, that's the one i'm working on currently. That means anything else after that is gonna be a bit of a wait. Be patient with me! Much love! Keep them coming!

[spockiguess]

Happy Birthday, Mr. President || Kratos x Fem!Reader

A/N: Kratos is seriously so fucking hot. That’s all I have to say. Also, I will be getting to those requests, fret not dear readers!

Warnings: Smut, use of terms like cunt and pussy. 

Pairing: Kratos/Fem!Reader

A cozy fire burned in the hearth of Sindri’s home, casting the expansive living area in an orange glow as you worked diligently in its squat kitchen, beads of sweat already beginning to gather around your temples.

Everyone was either gone out on a mission, or in the case of Brok and Sindri, on another quest to find some elusive item that would give the weapons they worked on an extra oomph. That meant you had the entire place to yourself, and knowing it was Kratos’ birthday, you decided to bake him a cake.

Pleased with your ingenious idea, you continued to whip eggs, flour, sugar, cocoa, and other ingredients into a smooth chocolatey batter that dripped from your mixing spoon in smooth ribbons. Chocolate was always your favorite flavor, and surprisingly, Sindri had collected enough of the stuff for you to use. You wondered how he got ahold of cocoa, seeing as Midgard wasn’t exactly a tropical climate, but you decided to ignore that in favor of scooping a bit of the batter onto your finger and testing the taste. Perfect, you thought.

Setting the bowl down and greasing a pan with butter, you poured the mixture in, watching as the silky sweetness pooled, creating little hills before it melted back into itself. As you scooped the last remnants into the pan, you thought about Kratos, him being the reason you were doing this in the first place.

A memory popped into your head as you set the pan into a wooden oven; your first kiss with Kratos. It was sweet and tender, if not tentative on his part, but soon you couldn’t get enough of each other, and well, your first kiss turned into your first time with the god of war. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you remembered the details of that night, and you ached for Kratos’ presence as you set to work getting the frosting made.

Later, the heaving doors of Sindri’s home flew open, and from behind them appeared Atreus, quickly followed by Kratos. The young boy waved to you before rushing to his room, and Kratos gave you a small smile, sauntering over to the kitchen where you stood, preparing the finishing touches to Kratos’s cake.

“Okay, wait, don’t look,” You pleaded, back still turned to the man.

Kratos’ deep voice rumbled, “Mm, you intend to hide something from me?”

With a smile, you answered, “Not for long. Go sit at the table.” Kratos hummed, and you watched as he unhooked Mimir from his belt and sat the dismembered head down before pulling out a chair for himself. With an excited squeak, you held the cake and some utensils in your hands and walked to the table slowly, singing a birthday jingle.

Kratos watched intently as Mimir jested, “Oy, I wish it were my birthday!” You placed the plate on the table and studied Kratos’ expressions. The man was entirely unreadable, but finally, he spoke. “How did you know it was my birthday?” Through his thick beard, you could barely make out a smile, and you cheered, knowing you had succeeded. Sitting down on Kratos’ lap and wrapping your hands around his neck, you responded truthfully, “Mimir told me. He was talking about how young you looked compared to your real age, and it just kinda…slipped out.”

Mimir piped up, “Unintentionally!”

Ignoring him, you continued, “I didn’t know if you celebrated your birthday, but in my family, it’s a big thing. I couldn’t just let you go out and kill a bunch of monsters without at least rewarding you for making it through another year!”

Kratos all but purred, his hands coming to rest on your hips and scooting you closer to where your chests touched, and arousal panged through your system in a heartbeat. The god smiled again, much more noticeable this time, and kissed your cheek before turning to the cake.

“All for me?” You nodded, all for you. Kratos grabbed a fork and began to dig in, his voice rumbling in his throat as he savored the cake. As you sat in his arms, you watched him devour the cake in mere minutes.

You poked fun at Kratos, “I guess you were hungry?” Kratos very lightly chuckled, never one to show big emotions unless it was anger or hatred. But that’s what made you appreciate the small moments of happiness so much more. You loved that you were able to draw these long-repressed emotions from Kratos; it made you feel special.

When Kratos finished, he turned to you with a heated gaze, looking all but ready to devour you, too, when you wiped a bit of frosting from the edge of his lip and licked it from the tip of your thumb.

Kratos growled and looked to Mimir before turning back to you, “I am going to put the head away.”

“Aye, is that all I am to you, brother?” Mimir challenged as you quickly got the hint and removed yourself from the hulking figure. In a flash, Kratos grabbed Mimir, albeit a little roughly, and paced to your shared room to put him away before he was back on you.

Kratos’ hands were hungry when they grabbed the thick flesh of your ass and thrust your hips to his, “Thank you.” Kratos was a man of few words, but you knew everything he meant by saying that.

“Of course, I love you. Too much, probably,” you giggled. Kratos only sighed sweetly before meeting your lips in a fiery blaze that left you winded. The kiss was passionate and wet, every time you departed for a breath of air, a long string of saliva would connect the two of you before breaking off.

During this, Kratos made quick work of your clothing, and your cheeks heated at the fact that you were currently getting naked in the middle of Sindri’s house, where anybody could just walk in and see you two going at it. Even then, it excited you to the umpteenth degree, and you responded to Kratos’ touch greedily.

Soon, you were naked and a bit chilly from the exposure, but Kratos made sure to cover every inch of your body with his own. Kratos kissed down your neck and your chest before reaching your breasts. He marveled at them before taking a pert nipple into his mouth and sucking. You held the back of Kratos’ head as he laved at the spot before gently biting the bud, making you moan out in pleasure. Kratos hmphed a chuckle before doing the same to the other nipple.

You could already feel the wetness seeping from your core and coating the insides of your thighs when Kratos fell to his knees, almost reverentially. Quickly, you opened yourself for him, keen on letting him see what he’s done to you.

Kratos muttered only one word, “Good,” but it still made every part of you shiver in response.

Then, Kratos’ thumb came to your cunt and ran through the wetness before his other hand joined and spread you apart. You keened, needy for more of Kratos’ touch. Kratos was happy to give you more, and his mouth met your core, licking all of your juices up before finding your clit and focusing all his attention on that.

It made you moan loudly, and you hurriedly covered your mouth in fear of Atreus hearing, but Kratos didn’t stop. In fact, he went even faster as his tongue circled your clit and applied the perfect amount of pressure.

Your thighs squeezed around Kratos’ head, but he didn’t budge, instead bringing two fingers to your sopping entrance and pressing them in, meeting almost no resistance at all. Immediately, he curled them and found that spot inside of you, the one that made you throw your head back in ecstasy and forget yourself once more.

Kratos paused to hush you, only bringing a single finger to his lips before he returned to the task at hand. It wasn’t long before you started to clench around his fingers, alerting him to your impending orgasm. Kratos didn’t relent, and soon you found yourself gushing all over his mouth and hand.

Kratos hummed his approval before standing and fervently removing his pants. The sound of clinking metal excited you further before he grabbed your waist and spun you around so that you were leaning over the table and giving him perfect access to your pussy.

Once again, Kratos ran a thumb through your folds before replacing it with his thick cock. He ran the head up and down, making sure to coat it thoroughly in your juices before he thrust in.

The stretch felt like heaven as Kratos pushed into your warmth; even he couldn’t contain his noises. Eventually, the tip of Kratos’ head met your cervix, and even though there were still at least a couple more inches left, Kratos stayed there and made a mental note not to push past this point.

Then Kratos pulled back, both hands gripping your waist as he watched your body try to suck him back in, and after a moment, Kratos relented. The god was so thick and filling you could feel him in your stomach. A sick thought filled your mind, and you brought Kratos’ hand to your tummy to feel the bulge there. Kratos growled again and started a harsh pace that left you breathless.

His thrusts were so powerful that they moved the table and you by extension. You held on to the edge of the dwarven table for dear life as Kratos pounded into your tight pussy and brought his other hand to your neck. He wasn’t going to choke you, no, but he needed a better angle, an angle that would have you seeing stars. So, he pulled you by the neck so that your head was resting against his shoulder and your back was arched to meet his hammering cock.

You came almost instantaneously, the position providing perfect access to that same spot inside you, but Kratos kept at it.

The god of war snarled and watched his cock sink into you delightfully and felt his own orgasm approaching steadfastly. With you having cum twice already, Kratos felt satisfied with cumming himself.

Your heat, tightness, and wetness, all in combination caused the beast of a god to roar out and thrust into you harder before his cock spilled into you, overflowing your walls with sticky seed that spilled out and dripped onto the floor. You’d have to clean that up before Sindri came home.

Kratos kept going until he emptied all of his cum into you, watching the liquid mix with yours and coat your pussy and legs in even more wetness.

You began to whine from overstimulation, and Kratos quickly stopped. You both caught your breath as Kratos pulled out, and a heap of cum spilled from inside of you. Now you’d really have to clean that up before Sindri came home.

Weakly, you joked, “Happy birthday!” Kratos huffed a laugh before bringing you into a tight embrace.

Suddenly, the doors to the tree house swung open, and a familiar voice called out, “What the fuck!”

#god of war #god of war ragnarok #kratos #kratos x reader #god of war kratos #kratos god of war #fanfic #x reader

[spockiguess]

Update Nov 27, 2022

I just wanted to let you guys know that I see your requests and I will get to them, but I will be posting a Kratos fic first as I started writing it before the requests came in. Just wanted to say this so y'all didn't think I was ignoring them. I truly love that y'all are requesting Tyr stuff though, and from me no less!

[spockiguess]

A Good Morning Blowie, Eh? || Tyr x Fem!Reader

A/N: I love coming back after literal months to post something completely random and unexpected. Like, you’d think the mainly Oual Dano writer would keep writing Oual Dano if they only posted that but... whatever, actually. You guys don’t even know some of the fics I have locked away, never to see the light of day. ANYWAY!!!! Tyr’s fucking hot as balls and I wanted, no-- NEEDED-- to write about him. Also, headcanon time: Tyr is fucking baller at eating pussy. That’s all I can say. 

Oh, also, IMPORTANT: If you like this, request more Tyr, or even Kratos fics WITH specific details you’d personally like to see. 

Warnings: Smut. Lots of it. Also terms like “cunt” and “pussy” used because I can’t fucking handle the shitty little, cutesy ass nicknames people give vaginas. Like, it’s a fucking pussy. Give me a break. 

Pairing: Tyr/Fem!Reader

Great beams of light spilled through the large circular windows of Tyr’s room, a small space nestled in one of the many corners of the germaphobe dwarf Sindri’s immaculate tree house. There wasn’t necessarily a day or night in the Realm between Realms, but it did operate on a time system very similar to Midgard, with brighter purplish-blue light in the mornings and a deeper plum at night. 

This was how you knew that it was past the time to get up, and you figured everyone else had already set off for whatever journey they had in store as you ran your hand down Tyr’s muscular forearm, squeezing his hand as a gentle way of waking him up. 

The only honorable Aesir didn’t stir, however, only squishing his face further into the crook of your neck and sighing contently. You chuckled lightly before lightly calling out his name. Still, he showed no sign of waking up anytime soon, instead wrapping his arms tighter around your waist. 

Giggling at the sensation of his breath on your neck, you tried calling his name three more times, each louder than the last, but he didn’t budge. Tyr was a deep sleeper, and you knew this, so you pondered possible ways to wake up the hulking teddy bear. 

Soon, a wicked thought popped into your head, rousing you to move and carefully remove each of Tyr’s arms from your midsection. Your plan was devious but entirely foolproof, seeing as it worked every time you tried it. 

A playful smile dawned on you as you gently nudged Tyr onto his back. The nonviolent god of war only hummed, quickly getting comfortable in this new position. 

You could barely contain your mischievous laughter as your hand crept to the hem of his shirt, your movements painstakingly slow as you inched the material just above his belly button, giving you a nice view of his ruggedly toned physique. 

Unable to help yourself, you kissed along this exposed ridge of skin as you wormed Tyr’s pants down until they sat just below the middle of his thighs. From what you could see, Tyr was already half-hard, no doubt from the cuddling just moments ago. 

Your mouth watered at the sight of his girthy cock. It was definitely proportional to the rest of him, coming to about eleven inches tall and at least a couple of inches wide. Taking the behemoth of a dick in your comparably small hand, you gave it some experimental tugs, watching as Tyr became restless in his sleep. 

Once again, unable to help yourself, you went straight to it and licked a wet line up the length of his dick, feeling it come to life before tonguing the tip, smiling to yourself when you could taste the salty beads of precum already leaking from him. 

Tyr hummed in his sleep, unknowingly arching his hips at the contact. This only pushed you to continue, and with renewed vigor, you swallowed as much of him as you could fit (which wasn’t a lot, to begin with). 

Fighting back the tears and urge to gag, you ducked your head further until your jaw couldn’t open anymore. Staying there, you licked and sucked on the length you were able to fit in your stretched mouth, gathering the spit that dribbled down the length with your hands to work the rest of him. Tyr moaned in his sleep, whispering your name as his whole body reacted to your touch. 

After your jaw acclimated, you pulled back and hollowed your cheeks once you reached the tip, savoring the taste of the quickly growing amount of precum that soon filled your mouth. Ducking your head back down, you didn’t swallow until you reached the point you were at before. 

Finally, Tyr woke up with a start, “Oh Hel, that feels so–” Tyr’s hands flew to your hair when you hummed around his cock, fully enveloping your head when his fingers carded through the tresses. 

Now that Tyr was awake, you allowed yourself to work his dick faster and harder even though your jaw was already beginning to ache. Tyr’s deep moans were all that you needed, and besides those, you could tell he was enjoying it by just the amount of pre alone. 

Sucking up and down, you looked into his glowing eyes as you cupped his balls. Tyr groaned as his head fell back onto his pillow, and you simply continued your work. 

Soon, your mouth and jaw were beginning to hurt, so you resorted to licking the spot just under Tyr’s tip that you knew drove him crazy. When your tongue met the spot, Tyr shuddered, and not long after, he spilled into your mouth, almost causing you to choke on his cum. 

You didn’t swallow yet, choosing instead to pull off and show Tyr the pool of white liquid that filled your mouth before you drank it down greedily. You still held his cock in your hands, and when you did this, you could feel it twitch in excitement. 

Hazily, Tyr asked, “What did I do to deserve this?” You only smiled as you trailed back up Tyr’s long body, planting your hips just behind his still-hard dick. 

Running your hands under Tyr’s rumpled shirt, you innocently replied, “I needed to wake you up.” Tyr laughed as his arms easily wrapped around your frame and pulled you closer to him. 

“Hel, you’re a little temptress, aren’t you?” Tyr’s smooth voice shot straight to your core, and you unconsciously ground against his length as you burrowed your head into the crook of his neck, suddenly sheepish. 

“Forgive me, darling, but I don’t think you exactly have room to act shy when you woke me up with a– what do they call them?” 

Meekly, you answered, “A blowjob.”

Tyr echoed your response breathily, “A blowjob.” 

Tyr’s hands followed the curves of your body before reaching your ass, and with a sly smile, he grabbed you firmly, relishing in the moan you provided.

“Mm, did you get yourself worked up, dove?” You nodded, still grinding against his dick, “Let me help with that, then.” 

In a flash, Tyr flipped you over, and your head came colliding with the plush pillow he was just resting on. Tyr didn’t often show off his otherworldly strength, except during times like this. Even though he rarely admitted it, being able to hold you down without barely breaking a sweat thrilled him beyond belief. 

Just then, Tyr began to pull your pants down and kiss each newly exposed inch of blazing flesh that he held beneath him. Tyr’s untamed beard tickled your stomach, causing you to giggle wildly. 

“Your laugh sounds like heaven.” Tyr’s voice was low in his throat when he spoke, and as your cheeks burned, your giggles turned into an airy moan when he reached the hem of your underwear. Then, Tyr’s massive hands came to the crux of your legs and spread them apart tenderly; his kisses were like embers against your sensitive skin. 

Spreading your legs willingly, you still hid behind the safeguard your hands provided, unable to bear the weight of Tyr’s intent gaze. 

Tyr tsked, one of his long arms easily reaching both of yours, “No, no. I want to see you.” His voice was like a thick coating of honey, making you shiver under the words. 

Obliging, you removed your hands, mentally forcing yourself to keep your eyes on him as he continued his work. 

Tyr’s deft fingers wormed beneath the hem of your underwear, swiftly yanking the garment down and exposing you to the chilly air. Tyr’s eyes widened as his thumb returned to your pussy, running through the slick that gathered there. You could even hear how wet you were just from that alone. 

“Is this all for me?” You nodded, and Tyr couldn’t decide whether to look at your inviting, dripping cunt or your lusty eyes, “Oh, you don’t know what you do to me.” 

Before you knew it, Tyr was spreading your pussy and diving in for a taste. His tongue was a welcome pressure against your core, simultaneously stoking and quenching the fire that burned there. 

Tyr groaned loudly, and you almost shushed him before you moaned, too, the sound reverberating off of the walls. Admittedly, neither of you minded now as Tyr’s tongue found and suckled at your clit. During this, one of Tyr’s enormous fingers found your twitching entrance and circled it before nudging in slightly. His fingers were enough for you, and oftentimes, Tyr had to work you open on three or four before you could even begin to take his cock.

Instantly, Tyr found a healthy rhythm that made you squirm and writhe under his touch. Your toes curled, and your back arched off the bed as Tyr’s mouth ate you out like a fine meal while his finger went to work finding the spot that made you cry out for me.

When his finger found the spot, Tyr allowed himself a moment to speak, “You taste so good, Gods, how I missed this.” 

With Tyr’s mouth returning to your eager cunt, you felt that familiar fire course through your veins and collect in the tips of your fingers and seat of your belly, the feeling making your moans come in quick succession to the other. 

All the while, you adored the full feeling that came from Tyr’s single finger and inwardly ached for his dick. You knew everyone would be back soon, however, so you filed that want away for another time. 

The mixed sensations working in tandem made that wire coil tighter and tighter before, ultimately, it snapped. The fire roared inside of you, filling your ears with a rushing sound and causing your head to go momentarily dizzy. 

Tyr kept eating you out, though, unrelenting in his pace before you started to whine out from overstimulation. Finally, he slowed down and let you come down from your high, sliding his finger out and licking your juices off the digit, all the while giving you a sly smile. 

Tyr’s voice was raspy when he spoke, “You’re perfect. I still can’t believe I have you here with me.” 

Feeling cold, you beckoned him back up, content with having him holding you again as you whispered words of love into his ear. 

#tyr #tyr god of war #tyr god of war ragnarok #god of war #god of war ragnarok #fanfic #tyr x reader

[spockiguess]

bruce wayne x trans male power bottom? i think bruce needs a snarky lover in his life

"Need Some Boy Pussy In My Life," Said The Batman || Trans Male Reader x Battinson

Rating: Explicit 18+

Tags: Dom/Sub Dynamics, Power Bottom, Brat

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Trans Male Reader

Author's Note: Literally so sorry this took so long. I first started writing this right as I saw the request, but school was so fucking insane. I'm trying to raise a grade in one of my classes (it was a 39), and we had this massive project that needed to get finished. It was a writing project too, so nearly all of my energy went towards that and whenever I found myself at my computer, I just couldn't put words onto paper. Luckily, I finished, and it raised my grade to a 58 (still not passing), and I gave myself a day to decompress before finishing this fic. If it's not up to my usual stuff, that's completely my fault. I just really wanted to complete this request for you so it didn't feel like I was ignoring you. Anyway, sorry for the long note, it explains why I hadn't put anything out for the past two weeks. Hopefully, Anon, you enjoy. Thank you.

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Bruce’s hair was soft in your hands as you wound the silky strands around your fingers, tugging and exploring his mouth with your tongue. A deep throaty groan escaped his throat when you pulled, and his hands dug deeper into the plush skin of your hips. 

You sat on Bruce’s lap, grinding against his erection fervently as his hands traveled to your ass, gripping hard and causing you to moan. 

The sounds of Gotham waned outside as you held the Bat in your hands, keeping him firmly planted in the moment. Bruce smelt of amber and musk, heady and intoxicating. 

Breaking the kiss, you ran your nails down Bruce’s clothed chest, “You’re so needy. Trying to act all stoic, when in reality, you jerk off to the thought of me every day.” You breathlessly whispered the last part into his ear, knowing how it would spur him on further. 

Bruce growled, smacking your ass roughly, “Watch it.” His voice was primal, dripping with lust as he sucked a hickey into your neck and guided your hips as you rutted against him like an animal in heat. 

“What’re gonna do anyway, huh?” You crooned in a sickly sweet voice as you captured his lips again, lifting his shirt off and over his head. Bruce separated from you, capturing your chin in his strong hand and forcing you to look at him.

You could see the heat stir in his eyes, knowing your taunts fanned the flames. Wordlessly, he forced you onto your back before flipping you over and yanking your hips back to meet his. 

Bruce ground his erection into your ass, squeezing the soft flesh before pulling his hand back and smacking it hard, making you yelp pathetically. 

As he rubbed the aching flesh, he leaned down and mirrored your earlier actions, “Gonna fuck the brat out of you,” Bruce paused, his breath hot against the shell of your ear, “And make you act like the good boy you are.” He pulled your shorts and underwear down in a swift move, watching the slickness drip from you and coat the insides of your thighs. 

You looked over your shoulder, “Then do it already.” Bruce didn’t need any more motivation. He took his thick cock and rammed the entire length into you in one go, struggling to mask his pleasure as a whiner moan escaped his throat. 

It wasn’t much better for you as you screamed out and twisted your hands in his plush bed sheets, whining and moaning, already starting to feel your resolve wash away. 

Bruce didn’t relent; he kept pounding into you as his hand slithered under your stomach and found your clit, rubbing furious circles into the bundle of nerves. Bruce could never let you go without the same pleasure he felt, needing to see you squirm and eventually clench around him before he finished. 

Babbling, you squeaked out, “Please, please, more.” Drool started to leak from the corners of your mouth, and you felt the beginnings of a mind-shattering orgasm well up in the pit of your stomach. 

Bruce slowed almost to a halt, and you already knew what he wanted out of you, “Fuck, Bruce. Please.” He kept pumping in and out of you at a snail's pace, barely even touching your clit. 

“All I need is an apology.” At this point, you didn’t care. Bruce had worked you up so much even before he started fucking into your cunt. 

“I’m sorry, Bruce. Please, I’m so sorry, please.” It was nearly incoherent, but Bruce needed it just as bad as you, especially when he felt you tighten around him. 

Snarling, he went back to his rough pace, using his other hand to wind around your neck and pull your body against his, getting even more turned on as you arched your back to meet him. 

With two fingers now, he rubbed at your clit as his thrusts became sloppier and his sounds increased in volume. You were close, too, begging for release and succumbing to his power. 

That buzzing sensation intensified and hummed throughout your entire body, making you squirm, spasm, and leak even more around Bruce’s cock. It was so wet and sloppy, causing sinful noises to fill the lavish room.

Bruce kissed your neck, biting until he could taste blood. He licked over the mark, soothing the red-hot sensation and finally forcing your orgasm out of you. You came around Bruce, trying to stop his hand as it kept working to prolong it for as long as possible.

The over-stimulation was about to border on unbearable when he came, filling your insides up and fucking it deeper into you as he slowed and removed his hand. Bruce let you flop onto the bed as he slid his cock out, watching how his cum dripped onto the bed.

He scooped some of it up using his fingers and brought it to your mouth. You greedily sucked them in, moaning at the taste of your juices mixed together.

“Good boy.” 

#battinson #battinson x reader #battinson x you #trans male reader #the batman 2022 #the batman fanfic #the batman 2022 fanfic #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x trans male reader #robert pattinson

[spockiguess]

Spitfire || Joby Taylor x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+

Warnings: Smut

Tags: Multiple Orgasms, Hitachi Wand, Overstimulation, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Use of pet name “good girl”

Notes: Lord mercy, this one was quick. Started it late last night and just finished it today. I included the “use of pet name” thing because I know some of y’all aren’t into that, so I’d rather you know it gets used than be smacked in the face with it later on. 

Also, this fic is dedicated to: Bonnie and Asmy, the biggest danonation whores. [thumbs up] There was a severe lack of Joby fics so I decided to make one myself. Hopefully it isn’t complete dogshit. Message me if there are any mistakes. 

Chunky pleather boots strutted down cracked concrete, shaking the ground with unparalleled confidence. A black wool turtleneck dress hugged your curves, and oversized circular sunglasses obscured your eyes. Your genuine emotions were hidden from the random passerby who swerved around you, some looking back either in jealousy or curiosity. 

Your bright pink oval earrings swung in motion with your mighty gate as you stepped through the small diner's doors, the bell above ringing and drawing all eyes. You were perfectly unbothered, used to the attention, as you seated yourself at the linoleum counter. 

“Could I have a coffee,” You looked over a laminated menu, tapping it on the counter before adding, “Oh, and some sugar, too, please?” You smiled at the ghoulish waitress, probably at the tail end of her night shift, as the clock neared 6:30. 

The waitress grabbed a pot with a nod and poured a tall glass of joe, handing you the cup with a couple of packets of Sweet’N Low. 

“Thanks.” You flashed a friendly smile to which the waitress tried to respond as earnestly as possible, her smile not reaching her eyes. 

Ripping the little packets, you poured them into your coffee, swishing the drink due to a lack of utensils. Luckily, the waitress noticed and handed you a spoon. 

“Thank you.” She shrugged wordlessly, her smile just a bit more spirited. 

Mixing the artificial sweetener, you took the time to examine your surroundings, admiring the quaint diner, its aesthetic planted firmly in the past. Its walls were a robin's egg blue with a checkerboard detailing plastered across its entire bottom half. 

Old movie posters littered the walls, all classic romances. Casablanca, The Philadelphia Story, and Singin’ In The Rain, one of your favorites, were just a couple. You had always admired old romance movies, the dream-like quality they had, the utter fantasies they were. They were always a nice break from the angsty monotony of life.

As you admire the hand-painted posters, you can feel a set of eyes burning into your being, and a quick swivel of the head allows you to find the perpetrator. 

A tall, stringy man sat at the opposite end of the counter, slick hair and painted nails; oh, you recognized his type, your type to be exact. The stranger’s green eyes were too caught up in looking you up and down, but you savored the attention for a moment. 

Finally, he realized he had been caught and gave you a sheepish smile, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. The two of you stayed like that, staring each other down, urging one of you to make the first move. 

The man relented quickly, not the patient type, hopping off his stool, crossing over to you, and taking a seat. 

You spoke as you brought the coffee to your lips, “Hello, stranger.” He chuckled, inching closer. 

“Hey, stranger.” He teasingly emphasized the last word as he watched you intently, totally enraptured. His voice was soft yet raspy, and the sound sent shivers down your spine, so you sparked more conversation just to hear it. 

“What’s someone like you doing in a place like this so early in the morning?” Again, he laughed, tapping a couple of fingers on the counter to craft a simple melody. 

“You, uh, you totally stole my line there.” Both of you laughed, and when you faced him, you knew loads of trouble were to come. That was your curse, and you had long come to terms with it, relinquishing your hopes of a fulfilling relationship with your early Hollywood romance movies. Sometimes you envisioned yourself as a Judy Garland, clumsily navigating your life while trying your hardest to come across as a Greta Garbo or Diahann Carroll, dreaming of being a Carmen Jones. 

It always ended with a messy split or a crazy ex who’d never stop calling until you placed a couple of restraining orders, and you knew this man was going to be one of these, but hey, you could never deny the short-lived fun they’d bring. 

“I know. I read your mind, and let me tell you, I never wanna do it again.” The man smiled, showing his crooked front teeth, oddly making him more attractive. As you began to find more of these details, the odd little complexities, they endeared you to him more. His silver rings, old leather jacket, and sad eyes told you a million things. 

You wondered why his eyes carried such a weight, a maturity lacking in the general male population, and a sliver of hope grew inside you, whispering maybe he’s different. Bah, you shoved the thought away, knowing it would get you into deeper trouble than it was worth. 

“I wouldn’t want to either, some crazy shit in there,” A clock ticked somewhere in the diner, and you noticed the waitress from earlier striding out of the restaurant, her shoulders less burdened, and she cherished her temporary freedom. 

“M’here cause I’m, uh, hungover. Had a busy night.” His mischievous grin told you everything you needed to know, but still, you had the courtesy to ask.

“Busy?” You lifted an eyebrow, resting your head on your arm, looking at the menu again, scanning the items. 

“Mm, love pancakes,” You called out to the chef behind the open window looking into the kitchen, “Could I have a stack, please?” 

He answered with a sweet southern accent, “Course, darlin’. Anything else?” 

You turned to the man, “You want anything? I’ll pay.” You had the money to spare, and honestly, he looked like he needed it. 

He perked up with a grateful look, “ Yeah, yeah, you, uh, you don’t have to do that, y’know.” Rolling your eyes, you called out again. 

“Yeah, some hash browns and toast would be great.” A simple nod from him before you tacked on, “Y’all have any jam? Can’t eat toast without jam.” You winked at the man beside you. 

“I feel the same way, kid. Momma always made toast with jam, can’t go without it now.” His wide grin was missing a couple of teeth, but it wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen before. 

“Right? Toast with just butter’s too plain.” The chef heartily laughed, already preparing your food. 

“I heard that!” Your diner stranger looked at you with a sense of awe, lazily smiling and trying his damndest not to fall head over heels at that moment.

When you turned your attention back, he replied to your question, “I’m in a band, actually. Played at a small joint not too far from here.” 

“Hmm, a heartbreaker, then. I like heartbreakers.” 

Joby Taylor cautiously stepped into your highly personalized apartment, not an inch of space without something filling it. Everything was you, and Joby couldn’t help himself when he started to poke around.

Eyeing a picture of you and your friends, he yelled out into the house, “Hey, 'm here.” He fiddled with a random dino figure, knocking it over and hurriedly, if not messily, trying to put it back without misplacing anything else. 

“In my bedroom! Bathroom, actually.” Before finding your room, he wandered around your house before finding the bedroom door, crossing the boundary and smelling your vanilla soap seep from under your bathroom door. 

Clothes, books, and movies were strewn around your room, some of the films perched in a dangerous tower that threatened to spill over at any minute. Posters and pictures, signs of a life more eventful than Joby’s, were everywhere. Bands, friends and family, parties and vacations, recurring individuals alongside one-timers. 

Joby couldn’t help his nosiness, only pausing when you came out clad in a small towel that left little to the imagination. You and Joby had only been friends for the past couple of weeks, with you having decided it was better even though you really wanted the opposite. Joby understood, grateful for the change of pace and enjoying the wholesome moments you spent together. 

Joby forgot what it was like, to experience a relationship, to know a person before you jump into bed with them. He knew the fights, anger, and sex, but he didn’t know those small instances he frequently found himself dwelling on. 

Recently, you two had gone to a park at your request, and Joby was unexpectedly happy to oblige. Luckily, it was summer in Chicago, and while that didn't mean all sun and heat, it did mean seventy-degree weather, warm enough for a stroll. 

Your warm hand held his cool one, rubbing your thumb along his bony knuckles as you giggled at kids playing a game in the distance. It was scenic, something he had only seen in movies up until that point. 

He watched you, your laughter pure joy, resting your head on Joby’s shoulder. “I want to have kids someday,” You said dreamily. 

This statement made Joby pause. He remembered Ellen. Her bright blue eyes, chubby cheeks, and soft, lullaby-like voice. 

“What’s wrong?” You had asked, your worry visible in how your brows stitched together, creasing your forehead. 

Joby waved the thoughts away, opting to continue his probing as you dried your hair with another towel, digging in a pile of clothes for your next runway-ready outfit. 

He had to admit, your style was undeniable. You wore almost everything and did so flawlessly. You turned holey, long-forgotten pieces of fabric into memorable statements; you rocked vintage pieces, looking like a modern Grace Jones or Twiggy. 

One of his favorite things about you was your attention to detail. It showed in your fashion, art, writing, gifts, and most importantly, how you showed affection. Joby had revealed that he wasn’t used to your sweet touches. He only knew the extremes. 

You were overtly affectionate, touching him constantly, grounding him to reality when his mind started to drift. He loved it. He loved when you’d climb into his lap while you two watched movies and rest your head against his neck, feeling your warm breath. He loved when you’d hold his face in your hands or crawl behind him while he played guitar and wrap your arms around his waist. 

Now you watched him incredulously, “Why are you going through my shit?” It was light-hearted, and Joby just shrugged and mumbled gibberish.

As he rifled through drawers and you started to warn him against the one he was nearing, he opened it, eyes widening at its contents. He laughed, turning his head to look back at you, “Filthy, filthy girl.” 

Your cheeks reddened as you rushed to close it, but he kept you away with his long arms and an abnormal amount of strength. He grabbed the item, holding it up to the world, showing the spirits one of your dirtiest secrets. 

Joby waved it above your head, and you struggled to reach it, clamoring against his body for the object. 

“Must’ve paid a good buck for this, huh?” It was a Hitachi Magic Wand, well, a knockoff since they stopped producing them a while ago, but the same in shape and function. Joby had to admit that it turned him on, knowing you had probably used it countless times, cumming on all over it. 

The image of you sprawled on your bed, legs spread and your hands wrapped around the toy, shaking and trying to be quiet but failing. You’d be dripping onto the bed, chest heaving, and head thrown back. 

Your voice shook him from his sinful imagination, “Joby, this is really not funny!” Your towel was starting to slip now, and more of your chest was beginning to show, spurring Joby on. 

“I bet I could drive you crazy with this thing.” You blinked, stunned by his comment. Joby was about to backtrack when you pulled away, hiding your face in your hands. This was something you always did when you got too flustered to function, most of the time when Joby would whisper something in your ear, always alluding but never stating. 

After a couple of minutes, you spoke through soft laughter, “You are such an asshole.” Inwardly, Joby sighed in relief, knowing he hadn’t crossed the line just yet. Still, he wanted to see how far he could push it until you snapped.

Joby pulled you back in, grabbing your chin so you’d look up at him, “What, scared I’m right?” You buried into Joby’s neck, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting the towel fall to the floor. 

Something inside you shifted, and you were ready for the trouble now. You couldn’t let Joby have all the fun. 

“Maybe. But you’ll have to prove it either way.” This was all he needed to hear before he tossed the toy onto the mattress, taking you in his arms and resting his hands on your full hips, digging his fingers into the plush flesh. 

His mouth went straight for yours, pulling you closer and holding on tight. Joby’s tongue traced along your lips, asking permission before you readily accepted, opening your mouth for his moaning at the feeling of his tongue against yours. 

Joby groaned hearing your noises, so whiny and unsteady, opposite your usual collected demeanor. His hands roamed farther, grabbing the meat of your ass and squeezing, causing your legs to shake, trying to keep yourself upright. 

Slowly, he walked, pushing you to the edge of the bed before you fell on it with a light bounce. He didn’t let up for a minute, however, crawling up the length of your body, saving the memory of your curves for later. 

One of his hands grabbed your breast, massaging it as you two kissed again, while his other hand kept him from falling on top of you. His head trailed down to your neck, sucking a hickey into the skin before biting, making your entire body jump. 

You moaned loudly, the noise filling Joby’s head, pushing away all coherent thought and giving him more confidence. He laved over the mark with his tongue, kissing it one last time before making his way down. 

He kissed down your sternum, chest, and stomach until he reached where your legs were firmly crossed. He tsked, running a hand along your thigh, squeezing before smacking its side, watching it jiggle. 

You yelped as you felt a gush of wetness leak out and stain the sheets, and unconsciously, your legs opened. 

“Ah, that’s a good girl.” Your face heated at the name, looking away to try and get your head right. 

Joby switched his attention, “Hey, what happened to the little spitfire I knew?” You shook your head, still not daring to meet his gaze. 

“Mm, you’re usually such a brat. I’ve barely touched you, and now you’re suddenly shy?” He tsked again, leaning back on his haunches and getting off of the bed. 

“Can’t have you not wanting this, y’know? Who would I be to force you into-” 

“Wait! What do I have to do?” Joby’s ears perked up. Hook, line, and sinker. 

“Gotta hear how bad you want it.” The words were almost a whisper, but he knew you heard him loud and clear with how you hid your face again. Joby knew you needed some extra encouragement and took to rubbing a gentle hand against your legs, kissing right above your pubic bone and lavishing you with kisses. 

The sensation was beginning to overwhelm you and rewire your thoughts, so from behind hiding hands, you muttered, “Please.” 

“Hmm?” Joby hummed, the feeling sending hot bolts of electricity up your spine. It irritated you knowing Joby could get you wrapped around his finger so quickly, get you to do whatever he wanted. But it also excited you, giving all of that power to him, letting him take the reigns. 

You spoke clearly now, grabbing Joby’s wandering hands and running them up your body, “I want you, Joby.” The phrase made Joby’s neglected cock jump in his restrictive pants, but he ignored it, for the most part, instead wanting to lavish you with care. 

“Good girl.” You opened for him, wider than before, wanting to hear the name more. Joby’s pupils blew out seeing you spread for him, your slick dripping from your pussy, and your entire body thrumming. 

He ran a thumb along your wet folds, dipping in to circle your clit with the calloused skin, finally delivering that sweet relief you needed. Joby spread your wetness around, watching intently and unbelievably turned on. 

After what felt like ages, Joby spread you open and licked a hot stripe from your hole to your clit, latching on and sucking while he shoved a finger in to the knuckle, twisting upward to find that spot. 

Your back arched off of the bed as you were extremely sensitive, especially since you’ve been waiting for a moment like this ever since you met Joby in that diner. Your moans were like music to Joby’s ears, making him ravish you like a man starved as he pushed in another finger. The slide was smooth, and you easily opened up for him, but he knew you’d be tight whenever he would fuck you.

Just as you were about to reach your climax, all of Joby’s movements abruptly stopped as he looked up at you, slick coating his mouth and chin, “So good for me, baby. So good.” You whined at the praise, “You think it’s time your little friend joined us?” His tone was dark and full of lust. 

You had forgotten about the toy already, too caught up in the moment to realize it was just a couple of feet away, sitting right next to Joby. The thought of Joby using it on you made your heart jump; you hadn’t ever used it with another person. 

The idea was too exciting to give up, however, and through a moan, you nodded, “Yes. Please.” That wicked smile returned as he grabbed it, untangling the long cord and leaving the bed to plug it into a nearby outlet. 

He watched as the toy buzzed to life with the click of a button, the smooth head spinning. Seeing this in itself was erotic, and he realized then the appeal of these things. 

Watching Joby hold your toy, something you had used to cum so many times, made another rush of wetness seep out, and you tried to relieve the tension by rubbing your legs together. Joby noticed, turning the toy and holding your legs apart with solid arms. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” Seeing the way you squirmed under him, calling out for him with every inch of your body, was a huge ego boost, and Joby knew you’d be the death of him. 

“I need, I need you.” Again, another huge ego boost, which just made Joby cockier, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to be too upset. 

“Aw, don’t worry, baby, m’right here.” His finger traced along your cunt, making you involuntarily twitch. 

Joby couldn’t keep you waiting, though, too excited to see how you’d respond and if he could make you break with just the right amount of teasing. 

So, the toy pulsed back to life, and Joby brought the head to your clit, pressing firmly. When you arched off the bed this time, Joby held your hips down to keep you in place, loving how you tried to wriggle from his grasp, not being able to decide to push into the sensation or pull away from it. 

He drank you in for the next couple of minutes before suddenly snatching the toy away, your orgasm being denied once again. Your whine was high and pathetic; Joby loved it. He loved seeing how you were starting to lose your grip and submit to him completely. Even though you whined, you didn’t complain, waiting eagerly for his next move. 

Joby looked the wand up and down, turning it over in his hand and finding the buttons, “This thing’s got levels, right?” You nodded. “Hmph,” Was all that left his mouth before he pressed the button a couple of times, jumping from a slow rhythm to a breakneck pulse. 

The head returned to your clit with a new intensity that made you scream out Joby’s name and wrench your hands into the sheets. Your orgasm was hastily approaching now, and you could feel it start to turn over in your stomach, moving further down your gut. 

Joby was just about to pull it away when you came, the scream caught in your throat and your entire body shaking. Even though it hadn’t gone exactly to plan, he still loved how you yelled out from him, not even caring about who might hear you. 

He also loved seeing how you came down, dazed and lightheaded, with a goofy smile as you sank into the bed, content and still experiencing the aftershocks. 

“Good girl.” Joby hummed, kissing the insides of your legs and licking you up, savoring your taste. One of your hands found its way into his hair, tugging from the overstimulation. Still, Joby didn’t let up, bringing the toy back just as quickly as it left, even more intense than before. 

“Not gonna let you get off that easy.” The wand made you jump and try to pull away, but Joby yanked you back down the bed, not letting you escape the stimulation even for a minute. 

At first, it hurt a little, but the pain quickly subsided in favor of a mind-melting pleasure, leaving you a blubbering mess. This was what Joby had wanted to see the entire time; you unraveled before him, all because of him. 

Because you had just cum, your second climax hit you like a truck, ripping through you and leaving you an incoherent puddle. Joby threw the toy aside and licked at you, fingering you and pushing you through another orgasm. 

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered if anyone had ever made you cum this many times, much less make it so intense. Joby’s fingers and mouth worked you through the second one, even though it felt like your fourth. 

Slowly, he pulled away, staring at the cum leaking from your cunt. He licked the excess of his fingers and liked how you watched him and squeaked out a light moan. 

Joby crawled back up your body, kissing you and sharing your taste, something you both found delightfully erotic. The rough denim of his jeans ground against your crotch, and you mewled, already wiped. 

“Mm, think you’re up for another round?” 

#smut #joby taylor #joby taylor x you #joby taylor x reader #joby taylor fanfic #paul dano fanfic #paul dano #danonation

[spockiguess]

STROLLING !

summary : strolling around a city isn’t always boring!

warning : me being cringe again

paring : bruce wayne x black!reader

it was the middle of a nice septmber day when you got a regular call from your boyfriend, bruce.

he had asked for you to come over so you could both take a "stroll" around gotham which didn't make sense since the city wasn't ideal for those types of things.

nonetheless, you agreed because you weren't busy and had mostly nothing to do.

once you arrived bruce was near the coffee table waiting for you, messing around on that phone of his.

you wore a cute sundress, something appropriate to just walk about in.

you cleared your throat to get his attention and when you did he stood looking at you in awe. your curly hair in a pony hair with strands out in the front, and the cute sundress complimenting your skin tone beautifully.

"you look so beautiful today honey." his soft voice said as you walked closer to him

"oh 'm not beautiful every day brucey?" a playful smile on your lips as you hugged your boyfriend like you hadn't seen him in years.

"of course, you always do honey" his long arms wrapped around you lovingly making your heart warm up your insides.

"you ready to go on our little stroll" dragging on the l, with a small giggle he nodded his head yes.

he grabbed your hand tightly and you both made your way out of his place of staying.

around this time the city of gotham didn't look so bad, the trees were a shade of orange and red, the streets were clean for once, and it was peaceful. sure this would last for long but you had to appreciate these moments.

you guys walked around silently for a majority of the time but you didn't mind you just loved spending time with your bruce boy.

"[name] i have to tell you something really important, it's eating me up inside and if i don't say it sooner or later i might regret it."

"you can tell me anything bruce boy, anything, and ill listen to whatever you have to say." your heartbeat quickened with slight fear, but you surely had nothing to worry about.

sure you weren't the perfect girlfriend but you surely tried your best in everything and that's what mattered.

he bent down towards your ear and whispered as quietly as he could, "im batman."

once he said that a burst of loud laughter erupted from inside of you, not in disbelief but you thought that he knew that you knew this information already.

you placed a hand on his shoulder as best as you could because of this height difference and said, "yes brucey boy .. i know."

a semi shocked look was upon his face as your laughter started up again

"is that why you took me on this walk bruce? have you not SEEN your own house??" in-between giggles that's what had come out of your mouth.

"so ... you knew this whole time and didn't tell me?" he dragged out while saying whole and you just nodded

"yeah, i thought you already knew! it is quite obvious!" another smile placed back on your lips while he looked a little embarrassed

"when we get back can you help me make it .. i don't know .. less obvious?" and a quick nod from you meaning yes

"let us continue this walk, shall we?" you said playfully holding out your hand for him to hold

he took it while looking down towards his feet followed by your laughter.

turns out a walk around gotham isn't so bad after all!

[spockiguess]

Come and See Pt. 2 || Riddlebat

Rating: Explicit 18+

Warnings: Smut

Pairing: Edward Nashton x Bruce Wayne

Notes: I’m gonna be straight honest with y’all, by the time I was finishing this fic, I wanted to rip my hair out because of how long it was taking. I have like four more parts in store, but holy shit, I am not going to be writing any riddlebat for like the next couple of weeks. 

Also, this was my first time writing aftercare and sort of fluff? Like, it’s fluff at the end if you really squint and tilt your head to the side. Anyway, I’m going to be writing a Louis Ives (Louisa) fic that’s gonna be super fluffy and shit because I crave it fr. Oh, also, I’ll probably be making an Eli Sunday or Joby fic soon, but idk yet. 

P.S. If this isn’t as good of quality as my previous fic, it’s because I only edited it once and couldn’t find the will to read over ten pages, so if there are any mistakes, message me. Thanks, much love, xxoo

Perched upon a menacing gargoyle was The Bat, the Dark Knight, Vengeance, a force of justice that took many names but stood unwavering in its convictions, until tonight, however. 

Rain battered against the hard metal of Bruce’s suit, echoing in the caves of his ears, almost drowning out the never-ending noise of Gotham. People walked below him, entirely unaware of his presence as they left the Iceberg Lounge. 

Usually, that would be Bruce’s reason for stalking this part of town so late at night, to catch criminals in the act, protect people caught up in the Iceberg Lounge's messy politics, and enact vengeance. 

Tonight, though, Bruce had a different mission, and he was staring at it through a musty window caked with mold and mildew. Bruce’s heart hammered, threatening to rise in his throat and cause these confusing emotions to spill out of him onto the pot-hole-filled street below. 

Deep down, Bruce knew this was wrong. Bruce knew that if he were to open that window and cross that threshold, act on what he set out to do tonight, he’d never recover. He would’ve permanently shifted his morals and turned a cheek to violence and chaos because of his own perverted desires, but, oddly enough, this excited Bruce. 

For some reason, ever since he was a kid, he always loved to do wrong, in a reasonable capacity, of course. Bruce could never imagine murdering someone or selling drugs, nothing illegal either, but something scandalous. 

Bruce remembers the first time he did something like that; he went to some shady club on the outskirts of Gotham clad in ragged jeans and a black hoodie, ready for action. All Bruce wanted that night was someone to play with, and he got exactly that in the then Gotham Treasurer’s son, Adam Banks. 

Adam Banks was a notorious ladies' man, having slept with almost every young debutante in the grimy city of Gotham. Still, Bruce had heard rumors of Adam Banks’s closeted sexuality and how he paraded around with these girls to appease his staunchly conservative father, Al Banks. 

When they had hooked up later that night and Bruce watched as Adam hastily threw his clothes on and wagged a warning finger at Bruce, he felt satisfied for the first time in his life. Bruce had always followed the rules to a T, and who would it hurt if he broke them just this once, right?

Bruce Wayne, the face of everything Gotham stood for, and Adam Banks, Gotham’s go-to bachelor hooking up in some seedy nightclub, high on God knows what? Oh, the horror. 

Tonight was different from some ultimately harmless fling, though. Bruce was considering sleeping with one of Gotham’s most dangerous terrorists that no one knew the true identity of, sharing a bed with someone who had killed countless elites, although Bruce could care less about the well-being of most of The Riddler’s victims. If he were to do this and have the Gotham PD question him on the Riddler’s identity in the future, he could lie about not knowing it and feel that familiar guilt in his gut, or he could reveal it and lead to a whole shitstorm of possibilities. 

This line of thinking was killing his boner, so Bruce steeled himself before grabbing his grappling hook and sinking its claws into the bricks of Nashton’s complex. 

Edward Nashton laid on his rumpled bed, pumping his cock and moaning the Batman’s name into his yellowed pillow, rocking his hips in time with his hand. Precum leaked from the head of Edward’s cock, coating his hand and dick in a slick that made the glide that much smoother. 

Something clatters from outside Edward’s bedroom, leaving him frozen and waiting on the bed, straining his ears and listening for any more noise.

A deep rumble sounds out through the small apartment, “Nashton.” Edward perks up, knowing that gruff cadence anywhere. He can’t help the gush of pre that spills out of him before he clambers up and out of bed, tugging a pair of pants and sliding his glasses on. 

This meeting was the moment Edward had been waiting for, ever since he first laid his eyes on the Bat. He remembers the day so vividly. 

Batman was fresh, and people were almost sure he wasn’t to be trusted, but Edward knew better. He watched news broadcasts with a feverish intensity, jerking off to the videos and pictures of the Dark Knight in action, watching this almost biblical force wipe out waves of common filth that polluted the city.

Edward knew that Batman could help him–would help him. He wouldn’t toss Edward aside as everyone else has. The Bat would hear Edward’s plight, and they would join forces to help rid the city of the toxicity it seemed to be drowning in. 

The night Edward saw him in person, he was walking home, groceries in hand, and as he turned the corner, there he was, The Batman. Batman was pummeling a group of poor thugs with animalistic grunts and near-deadly punches when Edward caught sight. Everything changed. Edward wasn’t alone anymore; he had Batman; he had someone fighting his fight, too. 

When Edward opens the door, all he’s met with is his usual messy surroundings. Sloppy white question marks, countless papers littering the floor, and the dim green light emanating from his kitchen, to say Edward was disappointed is an understatement. 

“And to think I got all excited.” Edward met one of his peeling walls with a crushing thud, feeling a solid brace against his neck and a large hand already trapping both of his own. 

Arousal flooded Edward’s body, and a healthy dose of surprise as he concluded the Bat had really come to see him. Of course, Batman wouldn’t just leave himself exposed in the middle of his apartment, out in the open and for everyone to see; Edward was stupid to think that. 

“Oh, there you are.” Edward giggled before the brace against the back of his neck pushed harder, barely allowing any air to pass through his throat. 

Edward breathlessly asked, “I’m assuming you saw my tape?” Batman grunted out an affirmation, leaning in closer, nuzzling into Nashton’s soft hair. 

Edward’s erection pressed painfully hard against the wall and strained further at the knowledge that Batman had watched his tape, something he put so much love and consideration into, a proper love letter. 

Silence eerily drifted in the stale air, “Are you gonna arrest me–” 

“You are an exception. This is an exception.” Batman pulled off Edward, leaving him to drop to the floor and suck in a breath to ward away the lightheaded feeling that had begun to consume him. 

Nashton smiled, looking up at the Bat, “You don’t know how special that makes me feel.” He giggled again, abruptly stopping as Batman turned around with a swing of his cape, masking himself in darkness as he stalked the small living space.

Edward’s body was tense and alight with an emotion he hadn’t felt in ages, and he loved it. He loved the rush Batman provided– the unease he instilled with a solemn stare that penetrated the deepest parts of your soul and the force he exerted in every step, punch, and kick. 

“So, did you like it? Did you like seeing me all spread out for you? I’ll admit, it was exhilarating knowing you’d watch it, even if you hated every second of it. You have to make sure, don’t you?” The Bat looked at the mousy man from over his shoulder, with no emotion on his face. 

Edward was determined to get a rise out of Batman through any means necessary, so he got on all fours and crawled over to the looming figure, arching his back the entire way. 

Once he approached the Bat, he looked up at him through long lashes, trying his best to look as innocent as possible while he traced his hand up the rough fabric of Batman’s pants. 

“What’s with the silent treatment, Bats? Having second thoughts?” Batman flung Edward’s bedroom door open, a cocky look on his face as he sauntered into the mess of dirty clothes and unintelligible scrawling. 

Batman’s utter silence put Edward on edge, if he were being honest. He couldn’t tell what his next move was or get a read on what might be going through his head. Usually, Edward could read a person like an open book, having learned to do so after years of abuse and mistreatment. Eventually, you see the little, almost imperceptible signs. 

Batman’s heavy steps echoed in the mostly empty room as Edward rushed to get up, embarrassed at his ignored advance. 

“God, you’re fucking filthy, Nashton.” The harsh words sent a tingle down Edward’s spine, and finally, the Bat spoke. 

Edward tried to sneak up on him, but Batman caught him before he even stepped into the man’s bubble. Batman’s hand closed around his throat, squeezing just enough to make the edges of his vision go dark. 

“But you love it.” Edward giggled again as Batman threw him onto the unmade bed. Batman stepped in front of the large window at the end of it, silhouetted by the neon lights of Gotham. 

“Maybe.” Batman inched closer, “That little homemade video was fucking disgusting.” Another inch, “Where’d you learn to be such a whore?” 

Edward answered honestly, “Cam Girls. They’re really helpful if you tip enough.” Batman rolled his eyes, his guard dropping by the minute. 

“Did they teach you how to shut up?” Batman grabbed Edward’s ankles, yanking him down the length of the bed until his crotch perfectly aligned with Batman’s. Nashton lolled his head back, loving the friction against his cock. 

“The opposite, really. They told me to be as loud as possible.” Edward grinned menacingly, leaning up and snaking his arm around Batman’s neck. 

“You’re lucky you aren’t butt-fucking ugly, Nashton.” Nashton’s heart fluttered. 

“So you think I’m cute?” Batman gave a noncommittal shrug as he pulled Edward’s shirt off, running his hands across the plush skin, tweaking Edward’s nipples. 

Nashton moaned, he had always been sensitive, and by the looks of it, Batman had just figured that out, pinching his pink nipples harder, twisting and tugging. 

The coarse fabric of Batman’s gloves gave an intoxicating feeling of pain that mixed with his pleasure, and Edward rutted his hips into Batman’s in hopes to relieve some of the tension, causing Batman to press his arm into Edward’s soft hips and ground him to the bed. 

Batman gave a wicked smile, “Jesus, you really want this, don’t you, Ed?” Edward squirmed at the nickname, feeling his plump cheeks redden and the tips of his ears heat up. Edward nodded, biting his lip and whining as Batman continued to toy with his nipples, using the other hand to keep him firmly in place. 

Batman leaned in close to Edward’s ear, mere centimeters away, “I wanna hear you beg for it, Eddy.” 

Nashton’s brain almost exploded as he struggled to keep his composure, “You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Edward continued to ramble, just to get back at the Bat, “You think just because, hah, just because I sent you that tape, that I’d get down on my knees and beg?” 

“Weren’t you just on all fours, basically rutting like a bitch in heat against my leg?” Edward could hear the snarky grin in his voice and that hot shame he felt earlier came rushing back. 

“Nothing to say to that? Shocked.” Batman took him by the neck again, shoving him against the bed, and palmed Edward’s aching cock a little too hard, leaving him to whine high in his throat and arch off of the bed. 

Finally, Edward was able to form a complete thought and shove the words past his lips, “You act like this isn’t affecting you, Batman, but I know it is. I know you jerked off to my tape, watching me fuck that dildo, wishing it was you.” 

He leaned up, staring into the Bat’s eyes, challenging him to take it further when he said, “You’re disgusting, Bats, just like me.” Edward laughed before Batman practically ripped his pants off and exposed him to the chilly air of his bedroom. 

In a flash, Batman’s dick was out, long and thick as it rested against Edward’s belly, smearing precum against his sparse pubes. Edward couldn’t help but drool; it was so much better than he imagined. 

Nashton could feel the heat radiating off it in intense waves, sinking into his skin. He recalled all those nights, including this one, where he pleasured himself to the thought of Batman’s cock and all the possible ways he’d take it. He’d do anything for it, for the Bat. 

His thoughts were interrupted when a sharp coldness spread across his asshole, and finally, being pulled from his haze, he saw that Batman had pushed his legs back until they nearly touched his stomach and was coating Edward’s entrance in lube. He also noticed that Batman had taken his glove off, and knowing that the man under the cowl was touching him, skin to skin, made Edward fill with euphoric joy. 

Edward keened at the frosty feeling, but the cold quickly washed away with their combined heat. Edward melted into the touch, relishing in the Bat’s uncharacteristic tenderness, feeling the way his long finger sunk into him, prodding at him tentatively.

Under his breath, the Bat muttered, “Fuck, you’re tight.” These little phrases he’d catch the Bat say assured Edward that the attraction was mutual. Batman didn’t want to admit it, but he thought the Riddler was cute. No one had ever felt that way about Edward before, and Edward’s obsessed devotion deepened. Batman and Edward were supposed to be together; he knew it, the Bat knew it, it was hard to ignore, honestly. 

All of those lonely nights, clutching bedsheets and weeping a pillow, longing for the touch of another person, were now put to rest. Edward’s wish was granted. Consciously, Edward knew this line of thinking was dangerous because this was an exception. The Bat was only here for one night to quell those pesky urges before they got out of hand.

Even then, Edward thought, he ought to enjoy this night for what it is and backlog every frame for those lonely nights that were sure to come again. The nuns always told Edward to never to look a gift horse in the mouth, and this was one of those times. 

So, he sunk into the soft material of his blankets and sheets, basking in Batman’s attention, feeling like a cat sprawled under the sun's warmth shining through a window. Edward watched Batman, watched Batman study the way his finger plunged into Edward and the slight struggle it was to pull it back out. 

Suddenly, another finger entered Edward, and the two digits honed in on his prostate, massaging hard circles into the bundle of nerves. Edward yelled, shocked mainly by the stimulation, and Batman clasped Edward’s mouth shut. 

“You are loud.” Batman quietly huffed a laugh, and Edward wasn’t sure if he could fall any more in love with the man currently fingering his ass. 

Edward pulled the hand away, “You love it, though. Knowing you’re the one causing it.” Batman blushed and averted his eyes, and Edward cheered inwardly at finally catching the Bat off guard. 

Batman wouldn’t let this victory last long, however, as he shoved a third finger in, pounding into Edward’s hole, stretching him so thoroughly that Edward reveled in the slight burn. 

High whines and pathetic moans were the only noises that came out of Edward, alongside utterances of please and more. Batman was happy to oblige, pushing Edward’s legs even farther and getting the perfect angle for hitting Edward’s prostate every time he thrust his fingers in.

Bruce quickly decided that Edward was relaxed enough, slicking his cock in the lube and hissing at the low temperature before sliding it in, watching how Edward’s mouth formed an O shape while his eyes rolled in the back of his head. 

It was hard for Bruce to keep upright, shocked by the all-consuming heat and constriction of Edward’s hole and how it wrapped around him perfectly. It was wet, sloppy, and disgusting to any sane person, but Bruce loved it. He loved the erotic noises of his balls slapping against Edward’s ass and the gushy noises as it pushed further in with every thrust. 

Bruce leaned his masked head against Edward’s, their eyes locking as Bruce began to set a brutal pace, ramming into Edward that left the man under him screaming for more. Edward’s enthusiasm made Bruce hornier, the desperation in his eyes and the slobber dripping from his mouth. Bruce made a mental note to put that mouth to good use later. 

“Please, please, don’t stop, hah. I can feel you so–” Edward moaned, grappling for purchase against Bruce’s suit, but his fingers slipped against the smooth armor, “I can feel you so deep.” 

Edward trailed one of his hands down his stomach, just above his pubic bone, feeling the slight movement that shuddered through his body every time Bruce moved. It was sick, Bruce’s cock pushing so far into him that he could feel it in his stomach, but Edward loved being so full. 

Seeing this almost made Bruce break, and Bruce wouldn’t let himself cum first, so he took Edward’s red cock in his ungloved hand, spreading the precum over the head and base.

The only thing Edward could do now was babble incoherent gibberish, physically shaking from the stimulation and feeling himself get closer to that peak. 

His orgasm tore through him rapidly, causing Edward to unconsciously tighten around Bruce, making the larger man double over as he shoved his face into the crook of Edward’s neck.

The two men came together, with Edward’s cum landing on his and Bruce’s stomach while Bruce came deep in Edward’s ass, some of it leaking past his cock and dripping onto the mattress below. 

Edward moaned as Bruce growled like a feral animal, bucking his hips to get the last bits of cum out, causing shocks of overstimulation to ripple through Edward’s body, nearing the precipice of pain. 

After a couple of moments, Bruce collected himself, his breathing still heavy, when he separated and pulled out of Edward, hissing as he did so. 

Edward was satiated, completely dazed as his eyes drifted off into space, looking thoroughly fucked. Edward giggled as he adjusted his glasses, but his glee was cut short when he saw the Bat already put away and heading for the door. 

Nashton scrambled to his knees, leaning to grab Bruce’s arm, “Hey, where’re you going?” Edward looked like a kicked puppy, his eyes wide and already started to glaze over. 

Bruce couldn’t help the rush of guilt that quickly settled like a hard lump in his stomach. Even though Edward Nashton, the Riddler, was one of the most dangerous men in Gotham right now, his face was uncannily innocent, with round cheeks and big eyes that ate at Bruce’s resolve. 

It was quiet; the only thing leaving Bruce’s mouth was a mixture of uhms and uhs. Still, Edward tried pulling Bruce back, and Bruce was too distracted to notice his feet moving in that direction. 

Bruce was about to pull back when Edward murmured, “You don’t have to leave this minute, right?” 

When Bruce didn’t answer, still having that dumbfounded look on his face, Edward started to ramble, “I know you said this was an exception, but, y’know,” Edward pulled Bruce closer until he hit the edge of the bed, “It’d be nice if you stayed a little longer. That’s all I ask.” 

Readily, Bruce’s willpower diminished, especially after hearing how soft and fragile Edward sounded. 

With a grunt and rolling of the eyes, Bruce reasoned, “I’ll stay the night, but you have to tell me everything you know about Gotham’s undercity.” 

Edward’s face lit up as he wrapped his skinny arms around Bruce’s neck, “You make me sound like a petulant child.” 

Bruce gave Edward a look, so Edward caved with a defeated sigh, “Fine. Yes. I’ll tell you everything I know about Gotham’s undercity.” 

“Thank you.” Bruce parted from Edward, heading for the door again. 

“Wait, I thought we had a deal?” 

Bruce snickered, “Can I go to the bathroom at least?” Edward deflated, humiliated once again at his clingy tendencies. His head hung as he nodded sheepishly, turning bright red at Bruce’s teasing laughter. 

Edward had settled into bed, too lazy to get up and clean himself off but smart enough to not get under the sheets and completely dirty the sheets. He watched the buzzing neon sign that hung right outside his window and coated his room in an almost ethereal glow. 

His bedroom door lurched open, and from behind it came Bruce, de-suited and human-looking. He wore a makeshift face cover that resembled a ski mask with a black hoodie and jeans. 

Bruce was still big, but now that Edward could see him outside the suit, he noticed the barely-there change in height. Now, Edward had at least a couple of inches on the man. It was not enough to ever ensure Edward won in a hand-to-hand fight with the Bat, but it still made a sick joy flow through his veins as he eyed the dark man. 

“You don’t have to stare.” Bruce threw a water bottle at Edward as he approached the bed, carrying a damp cloth in his other hand. 

Edward picked the bottle up, waving it at Bruce, “For me? You’re too sweet, Batsy.” 

“Blugh, don’t call me that.” Bruce sat on the bed, already starting to swipe at Edward’s stomach and clean off the half-dried residue. 

Although Edward tried his best to come off aloof, he couldn’t help but avert his gaze, too overwhelmed by the subtle show of care. He had never envisioned this side of Batman, a kinder side that would have to be there since he never killed any of his victims. Sure, he brutalized them, but they’d be up and walking again after a couple of weeks. 

Bruce was an ever-confounding puzzle that intrigued Edward the more he tried to sort the pieces out, and if there was one thing about Edward, he loved puzzles. 

Soon, Bruce had finished cleaning Edward off and pulled the sheets over his body, snatching some away. Edward watched the rise and fall of Bruce’s chest intently as he flung his arm over his eyes and shifted to get more comfortable. 

The urge to snatch Bruce’s disguise off was great, but Edward decided to enact some self-control he had forgone recently, deciding the consequences would be too great if he were to do that now. And, a small part of Edward didn’t want to break the fragile trust Bruce had just bestowed upon him. Many people hadn’t afforded Edward that same level of faith, and this was the man he was supposed to be enemies with, or at least, that’s what the media thinks. 

Secretly, Edward was grateful for the trust Bruce had given him tonight and the vulnerability he exposed. This was the first time in his life anyone had ever treated him with some semblance of decency, and Edward would be downright selfish to take advantage. 

If Edward were smart, maybe he’d be able to get Bruce to do this again, get Bruce to reveal his identity to him, without the cat and mouse chase. No matter how much Edward found the hunt exciting, a part of him longed for human connection, the same as everyone else. 

So, Edward snuggled closer to Bruce, wrapping his arm around him and shoving his head into the crevice between his shoulder blades. Bruce smiled to himself, already coming to terms with his sudden attraction to the lunatic cuddling into him. 

Bruce thought he might be able to change Edward, too. It was his mother who instilled the idea of second chances into his head from an early age, saying that even some of the worst people you meet could change if given a chance. 

As he drifted off to sleep, he thought he’d be willing to give Edward that second chance, even if it meant it might bite him in the ass later on. 

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