#stagnant pool

[poligraf]

The life of a godly man is like a river, not like a stagnant pool or a dead sea. It is ever in motion, sometimes sparkling in the sunbeam, and sometimes shivering in the clouds; sometimes chanting through scenery as beautiful as Eden, and sometimes moaning through districts of miserable desolation; sometimes clear as the day, and sometimes black as the night. Still it is ever moving to its ocean destiny — progress is its law, infinitude is its home.

— David Thomas

#life quotes #lifequotes #light #quote #quote of the day #quoteoftheday #quotes #wisdom #David Thomas #godly man #river #sea #dead sea #stagnant pool #motion #sunbeam #greatness #preeminence #excellence #sparkling #shivering #chanting #eden #misery #desolation #clouds #day #night #clarity #darkness

[wally-b-feed]

Felt - The Stagnant Pool

#Felt Band #Stagnant Pool #Song #Music #Youtube #Indie #80s #Maurice Deebank #Lawrence #Heroic #Fantasy

[rastronomicals]

10:30 AM EDT September 12, 2023:

Leaf Hound - "Stagnant Pool" From the album Growers of Mushroom (1971)

Last song scrobbled from iTunes at Last.fm

File under: British Heavy Psych, Old School

#Leaf Hound #Growers of Mushroom #Stagnant Pool

[rileyclaw]

Heard it's your birthday!!!! Happy birthday and thank you so much for all the lovely art you share, hope you get to do something fun to celebrate :)

thank you so much!! I'm planning on having a chill day bc I did all my partying yesterday dhfjfdfd,, . time to prepare for the Storm (beginning college again on monday. this cycle is endless )

#riley talks #!!!!! #like girl what do youu mean im 23?? i was 19 when this whole covid thing started #stares at my reflection in a stagnant dirty pool. #who is thatt

[ludinusdaleth]

me enjoying slowly actualizing my life dream of being a big hairy farmer bear. vs getting infinitely sweatier as i transition, in the texas heat present even in goddamn spring. fight

#van speaks #i had heat intolerance and sweat a lot BEFORE transition #so..... learning curve right now! #doesnt help my mom insists on our home being 80° to save money which means it is never not stagnant as a mosquito pool

[krikidilly]

Rmmrmrmrmrmmr

#can only post the The Life Ive Always Longed For post before it gets tired #sigh #this home is a stagnant pool #deleting later probably cuz even if this is a vague Me update for bloggg i feel silly posting it

[spilladabalia]

Felt - The Stagnant Pool

#felt #the stagnant pool #lawrence #maurice deebank #mick lloyd #gary ainge #psychedelic pop #psychedelic rock #jangle pop #the splendour of fear #1984 #Youtube

[avianhaven]

What is this stupid ass update where it has a follow button for ever idiot on a post it takes up so much space and makes it so much more likely for me to misclick shit when i already do. Just make it a block button instead of ur gonna make stupid website includes do you hear me? Do you hear me @staff ? Everybody boo me bc I'm right and we should all throw bricks at one another until everyone has both intentionally and not blocked each other and our dashboards are empty and this website that gets worse with every too often update sinks back into the sea.

#hate that in the current era tumvlr seems to update like. every month #i want a stagnant pool of mud and debris that microplankton can grow in not this shit i hate it it is uninhabitable i cannot live like this #tiatext #i say thinks strongly in a haha funny way but i am like. genuine incensed this is so close to being a last straw for me. not even sure what #abt specifically but i want to throw my entire technologies out a window for real

[mother-chorizo]

One aspect of the story of Dune that the movies don't make super clear is that, before Paul, the Fremen already had a central leader figure in Liet Kynes. In the book, Kynes has a generations-long plan to gather enough water to transform the environment of Dune (this is why the Fremen have those big pools, they never get super clear about that), then retake the planet for the Fremen and create paradise. Paul showing up and then leaning into the whole Lisan al-Gaib bit pretty much directly gets Kynes killed, creating a power vacuum into which he assumes himself with the aid of his previously-unheard-of levels of white privilege. While Kynes was an ecologist, however, Paul comes from a family of colonial military aristocrats. All Paul can offer the Fremen is all he understands: revenge. Bloody revenge for everything they've endured in centuries of oppression by the Imperium, temporarily in line with the revenge he craves for the Imperium's attempts to control him and his family, and spiritually in line with the resentment built up all across this socially stagnant feudal space empire.

#dune #dune part 2 #dune part two #paul atreides

[z0mibite]

short little tommy oneshot, small warning of s/a, not graphicly depicted by there's two mentions. typical tcm warnings, death, blood, murder, ect. soft tommy, probably ooc.

You should be disgusted.

You should feel terrified.

And you did, to be fair. But not nearly as much as you should.

Not when that giant had brutalized those bikers who attempted to assault you, and not when he had treated you so gently. Maybe it was the fact that you didn't put up a fight, that instead of struggling to escape him, you reached up for him as a frightened child would. You had wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him tightly, rather than beating against him.

You were brought to the same dark, damp, moldy room as the bikers, but he didn't shove a meat hook through your shoulder, he sat you down on an unorganized workbench, sharp tools scattered around on top of it. In front of you was some type of chopping block. The wood was stained with a brownish color in a pooling shape, the sides dripping. Some of it was more red and fresher, and the smell of copper hung stagnant in your senses. It was so heavy you could nearly taste it, and the air being so humid and thick didn't help.

The bikers, they begged you.

They looked directly at you and cried for you to help them as the monster of a man poured gasoline into his chainsaw, the smell of diesel overpowering the smell of copper for the time being. The two men and one woman who had cornered you at that shop, tearing at your clothes until the ‘Sheriff’ stepped in. You simply stared, watched as the man revved the chainsaw and began dismembering them one by one.

By the time he'd finished, he was covered in blood, and he wasn't the only one. You couldn't see his face well, but you heard his breath hitch slightly as he saw how much of a mess he had made on you. He walked to the sink, grabbed a rag you doubted was clean before wetting it, and began wiping the crimson off you. The only sounds you could hear was his breathing, and the drips you could only decipher due to the difference in how heavy they sounded.

Your eyes met his as he gently rubbed the blood off your cheek, his hands holding your jaw still despite you making no attempt to move. He paused his movements to wipe his thumbs under your eyes, the tears that threatened to spill finally falling as he pushed them out. He tilted his head curiously before moving one hand to the back of your head, the other holding your back as he pulled you into his chest. The hug was inexperienced and awkward, but comforting nonetheless. His body heat enveloped you, and somehow, even after watching every moment of his brutal acts, your muscles relaxed, and the tension in your body slowly left with a long exhale.

#thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt tcm #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x y/n #slashers x reader #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction #tcm 2006 #tcm the beginning #texas chainsaw massacre the beginning #texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw massacre x reader

[flem17ng]

Vault Dweller's guide to perpetuating America:

Lucy Maclean x Fem!reader

Summary: Lucy is getting married and reader is forced to watch. but vault tech never planned for the inevitability of Sapphics…

Content: Fluff and angst, systematic homophobia, happy ending, no use of y/n

Authors note: Let me know if you want more of this or have any prompts to send it :)

Word count: 3.1K

Gay people were not a thing according to Vault Tech. They did not add to the breading pool, they did not fit into the nuclear future, they simply did not fit in the vault. Unlike sperm, cola, and corn, homosexuals did not play a key part in perpetuating the American dream. This was a good enough explanation for anyone willing to enquire (and enquire they had in the early years of Vault 33), but overall, as the years of confinement and isolation dragged on, and marriage for the sake of breading continued, homosexuality was quite simply... forgotten.

Rely on a schooling system created by greying, rich, white men to eradicate historical depictions of minorities. Education in the vaults was about the great west, cowboys, the splitting of the atom, the creation of the commonwealths, and the importance of capitalism; education was certainly not for understanding the distant Stonewall riots or the ancient tunes of "Freddy Mercury". heck! This was the new world! a once in a lifetime opportunity to reshape society! If Vault Tech could systematically remove a section of society that could not reproduce and thus could not recolonize the wasteland then they sure as hell would do just that.

Now let's be clear: Vault Tech loves and values all its customers! The fight against the Reds was the fight for American freedom, for the dream, for the nuclear family, for the blue, white, and red! America celebrates freedom for all! but even in the great year of 2077, scientists at Vault tech simply couldn't work in the variable of homosexuals into the Vault system. At least not into the control vaults. Systematic eradication is, by all means, easier than acceptance.

Vault 33! One vault in a triad with 31 and 32. A dedicated meritocracy built on the values of one's good deeds. Lucy Maclean prided herself on her merit and her ethics. She knew how to de-escalate a conflict, she knew how to stand up for her beliefs, and she knew the importance of kindness. She also knew her valuable role as a woman in the Vault 33 society.

As a woman, the daughter of the overseer, she would be a community leader, a history teacher, and maybe later in life, she would run for council. As a woman, she would also get married (preferably not to her cousin) and have little vault babies who would grow up, learn their own merit, and so on and so on. To say that Lucy was comfortable and fulfilled by this prediction of her life would be... a vast exaggeration.

Yes, she understood her importance as a potential mother! Yes, she loved and valued her community, her family, and her job. But something stopped her from becoming stagnant. Something about this perfect path she had been given just wasn't right for her. It grated at her relentlessly, a thorn in her side, a nagging hunch she couldn't shake. Surely it would change on the day of her wedding. She would meet her husband, kiss, make babies, have cake and everything would settle. The unease she felt would lessen and she would accept her designated role.

~

"I am so glad your marriage application was accepted! I just cannot wait for you to join us wives!" Steph squeaked, one hand cradling the ever-growing bump in her tummy while the other waved around to illustrate her excitement. Steph was the carbon copy of what Vault Tech stood for: she was a wife, a soon-to-be mother, smart and strong-willed. She was drop-dead gorgeous with well-maintained hygiene. when you thought of the "American dream" you thought of Stephanie Harper.

Lucy grinned back, fighting the urge to roll her eyes (eye rolling was rude and there were more effective ways to respectfully communicate your disdain).

"Oh golly! to think in a few short hours I’ll be on my way to furthering the vault's great aim!" She smiled for real this time because she knew her discomfort did not stem from contempt for motherhood.

"Oh, Lucy spare me the lewd details!" Steph giggled before winking.

"I know you don't mean that Steph. you and me both know you want as much detail as I can give." Lucy chuckled, picking at the canned tuna on her plate.

The dining area near the cornfield was particularly packed today; everyone wanted one last glimpse of Lucy Maclean before she was assigned to the ranks of wife. The stares and whispers were not unwelcome, however. They reminded her of the community that she was a part of the community she had been raised to help and to eventually add to.

"I hope he's handsome" Steph breathed, looking begrudgingly at her own husband who was standing awkwardly next to the Nuka-Cola machine with Chet. Lucy just swallowed hard and nodded. It was easier to think about the more fun parts of marriage than linger on the particulars of her mystery partner.

She was grateful for the marriage of course. It meant an excuse to cut things off with Chet who had been steadily grating on her nerves since she was 15 (he seemed to love her and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't begin to think of him like that in return. his warm body was truly his only perk.) It was also a milestone for her, a badge of honor to her community service. This is what vault tech wanted! This is what America wanted!

Lucy pushed back from her chair, suddenly feeling nauseous. 

"Lucy, are you ok? you look a little pale dear?" Betty called from the seat next to her father. At the sound of her voice, the vault dwellers looked up to find Lucy standing awkwardly by her table.

"Oh! Yes, quite alright thank you!" she shrugged, teeth glinting with faux charm. "I just... I just wanted to have a nap before it gets too chaotic." lying was wrong. You were taught that very young in Vault 33. Lucy pushed down the stab of guilt before turning on her heels towards her family's shared apartment.

~

You watched her stand up from her table with a start that made you furrow your eyebrows and look away quickly. You would never admit to anyone that you had been staring at her, but you knew you had been. She was easy to stare at! She was a figure of authority, in a sweet and slightly clumsy way. Your excuse, should anyone catch you, was simply that you admired her can-do spirit! (that wasn't a lie though you couldn't label it as the truth either).

The other part of the truth was that you had been staring at her like a lost puppy since her marriage arrangement was announced. You and Lucy's friendship was... complicated. You had grown up together (as all vault children did), and your families were close (but not related as a "fun class DNA test" had proved during your school years). things got rocky as you got older though: Lucy was outgoing, confident, and stunning. All together just all the things you wished you were. That is, not to say you weren't pretty! In fact, you had received a few proposals in the past year (mostly from an anonymous admirer you knew was Davey, and a couple from Chet after he realized things with Lucy wouldn't work out). You and Lucy where still close, and to her, probably as uncomplicated at a friendship could get!

The complication was simply that to you it had become increasingly obvious that you were desperately in love with her.

You had noticed it first when you were about 14. Lucy was stunning, having never suffered the "awkward teenager" phase of adolescence, and was quickly discovering her hypnotic power over Chet. You weren't jealous of course! at least... not at first. But then it was more than Lucy's teasing flirtation: it was kissing, it was spending time with him more than usual. Suddenly you were jealous. Jealous in a way that couldn't be explained by the "Vault-Tech: Guild to female friendships" or "Vault-Tech: female adolescence in the Vault" or even by your mother's trusty copy of "surviving the teenage years: a manual sponsored by General atomics."

It got worse when you turned 17. Sex Education was vitally important in Vault education. it prevented the spread of disease, enabled knowledgeable future mothers and fathers, and fostered respect and dignity between men and women. It was in one of these detailed lessons that you caught yourself watching Lucy's expression: laughing at times, cringing at the birth diagrams, blushing at parts with a quick side eye to you. 

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks as your eyes fluttered to her lips and lingered there for a moment too long. It hit you again at 18 during your "prom" when Lucy danced with you slowly as the light from the 2.5D Telesonic projector scattered across her cheekbones and lit up her doe-eyes. you remember almost pushing her away from the force of it. The force of the feeling, the emotion, the unholy urge to press your lips to hers that caught you like a punch.

That night you had curled in a ball and prayed. you did not know who "god" was, but you'd heard about him in class before. You prayed to him to make you a boy, to change your emotions, to make things make sense again. Your mother had stroked your hair, not truly understanding your grief but accepting it and holding it for you like only a mother can.

In your world of perfect underground utopia, the truest sorrow you had ever felt was the realization that you loved Lucy Maclean.

~

It took you a split second to stand up and follow Lucy out of the atrium. A second in which your mind reeled and hesitated sickeningly before you shut it up. Lucy was your friend, and she needed you now. Your footsteps echoed down the hall as you took the familiar path along the "street" toward Lucy's home. The door was only just sliding shut as you reached it and you rushed to duck under.

Lucy was where you expected her to be: knees to her chest, curled up on the sofa. Her hands were clenched in front of her, and her eyes were set at some point just beyond the "radiation king" television set that was blasting its usual nature documentary. She didn't look up as you entered, but the slight dip in her shoulders told you that she knew you were there.

"Lucy?" you called quietly, kneeling on the rug near her. she turned to you slowly and smiled politely as she was raised to.

"hey" she muttered, clearly trying to keep her tone cheerful.

you fixed her a look before sitting softly next to her on the sofa. She remained in her tight ball.

"pre-wedding nerves?" you asked, ignoring the lump that formed just next to your heart at the thought of Lucy's marriage. You watched her expression for confirmation, but it never came. Instead, she furrowed her brows and looked back at the nothing behind the TV.

"I'm sure everyone gets nervous before their wedding Lucy. Steph could tell you a million stories of her 'pre-wedding wobbles'" you chuckled, remembering Stephs wedding day not long ago.

"Its... it's not that." Lucy finally responded, tightening her grip around her legs.

"Then wha-"

"What if I don't want this... Like I thought I did" she blurted, the words mushing together as she fought to get them out of her mouth. You pursed your lips, desperate for her to continue. After a moment of silence, she started again, quieter and more measured.

"I feel so... Wrong. and I don't know-" she cut herself off, swallowed, and began again, "I don't want what Steph has anymore." 

"What? the wedding? I'm sure your father would agree to a smaller celebration if you told him! I think he just likes to make a fuss of you."

Lucy shook her head. Finally, she let her legs fall away from her chest as she turned to face you with a dramatic sigh.

"I've always been so certain. and now... well I am certain but just not of the things I should be." She shut her eyes, needing to get away from your face for a moment. The lessons flashed in front of her eyes in quick succession: reclamation day, the purpose of the vaults, reproduction, male anatomy, romance, how to be a wife, the American dream. It flashed and flashed and then sank into her gut like an over-set Jello cake. 

You watched her face shift from carefully masked to strangely tortured and back again before she opened her eyes once more. how you missed those eyes in that moment you couldn't see them.

She reached forward and held your hand, her finders dusting over yours curiously as if she was handling some strange new specimen. she'd held your hand before, countless times in the 20 years you'd known each other; and yet her fingers felt tentative in a way they hadn't before.

"Lucy... it's ok to be scared, it's ok to feel unsure. heck, you know I spend most of my time feeling unsure." you cast her a weak smile, "I know you, and I know you will be an amazing bride to whoever you marry. You'll be a perfect wife; you’ll be an amazing mother and one day I know you'll make an amazing overseer as well. And Lucy? even if it feels hard, you know I'll always be here." You had long ago settled into your role of best friend, nothing more. You would be there, and you would love her (in a way approved by social expectations).

Lucy stayed quiet for a long time, still slowly tracing over your fingers with her own. It had clocked for her the moment you had entered the room after her dramatic exit from the atrium. she wasn't unsure, she wasn't uncertain. I fact, she felt as though she had never been more certain in her whole life.

Maybe it had started when she was 12, when you had helped her take her first ever stimpack: holding the needle steady, wiping her eyes with your own hand and giving her a little Vault-Boy band-aid to cover the little hole. 

Maybe it had started when she was 15 and getting a steady stream of attention from boys (mostly Chet) and could only watch your disdained reaction to her suitors. Even then she had a hunch that she cared more about your opinion on her "boyfriends" than the boys themselves.

Maybe it was when she was 18, pulling you through a maintenance tunnel by your hand with a high-pitched giggle and a determination to find a good meeting place for when you no longer had school to attend. She remembers your initial reluctance, followed by rebellious cheek that pushed you both further into the guts of the vault than you had planned on. She remembers the oil that had got on your face that she insisted on wiping away herself.

She tore her eyes away from your hands and stared at you with all the intensity and authority that the overseer’s daughter should possess.

"I’m not scared. and golly I feel about as far from unsure as a girl can be." her hands tightened around yours. "This vault... we are told what we do and what we feel. heck, they even tell us who we should marry! Maybe I'm being silly but that doesn't fit into the 'American dream' they are always yammering on about!" her voice rose had she got more passionate. you watched her with a mix of shock and awe (an emotion you often felt yourself feeling when you were around her)

"I've always nodded along to what they've told us! who am I to doubt the rules?" she continued, her eyes never leaving yours, "but this marriage... I don't want that!" she concluded with a huff, finally blinking and pursing her lips as if she'd suddenly gotten shy.

It was your turn to reach out to her now, freeing one of your hands from her grip and placing it softly on her shoulder. you put on a calm expression, but your heart betrayed you: beating rapidly as if trying to escape its spot behind your ribs.

"What is it you want if not the marriage?" you whispered, feeling the moments fragility.

a beat.

Lucy sighed, stealing herself. her eyes were no longer full of angry passion, but rather softer, watery. her expression seemed to mirror the way you knew you were looking at her.

"I think- no, I know... Gosh, I want you so badly" she breathed. 

Another war could have started and ended, and you wouldn't have noticed. The air stilled despite the constant circulation of the vents and the clock on the wall must have stopped ticking. Silence, a long silence that must have only spanned a fraction of a second.

Her words, like the flash of light as a fission reaction begins, followed by a lull followed by...

You launched forward before Lucy could hesitate, before you could leave her hanging, before she could dare think that you didn't want her back. her lips touched yours and it reminded you of the desperate prayers you used to send to the man called "god" (you thanked him now that he never changed you). There were no fireworks like the books said, no large, forced explosion, no splitting of an atom. Instead, it felt... inevitable, like the slow decay of an element, like aging gracefully, like coming home.

Her lips slotted against yours perfectly, softly and she gasped as she kissed you back. you kissed not for the purpose of "perpetuating America" or building the next generation of vault dwellers, but simply because you wanted to. 

She pulled back after a while, bleary eyes and pink-cheeked with a grin that made your heart grow.

"I did... know we could..." she let out before laughing, one hand covering her mouth while the other found its way to the side of your face where it lingered. You laughed too, sides splitting and eyes watering.

"Who the hell cares" you spluttered between laughs, leaning into Lucys hand.

"If it wasn't clear... I want you to. in a um... kissing way"

"Oh really? I wouldn't have guessed" she drawled playfully, "well then... I think we have a wedding to wreck."

"What will you tell them?"

She shrugged and scooched a little closer. "That's a future Lucy problem. Current Lucy is preoccupied..." She smiled at you in a manner that was really more of a smirk.

You had barely enough time to squeak out a rather excited "Okey Dokey" before it was her turn to shut you up with a kiss.

#lucy maclean x reader #lucy maclean #fallout #ella purnell #x fem!reader #fallout x reader

[val-cansalute]

Can u do a drabble or hcs on cuddling Ellie?

Ur writing is so good I love everything U write :>

WREATHE

warnings: not much, mostly fluff, basically the rq, mdni with my account tho😏

a/n: IM SO SORRY THIS HAS BEEN IN MY INBOX FOR I KID YOU NOT LIKE HALF A YEAR IM GENUINELY SO SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME 😰 thank you so much for sending the rq even though i took the piss responding, also this is a drabble bc i don’t think i’d be good at doing hcs 😭 i have some shit coming up at uni so i prolly won’t put anything out for a while but i have an idea for a new fic in the drafts !!! very excited…

ramadan has started which means israel’s violence against the Palestinian people will worsen as it does every year, purely for the sake of inflicting even more psychological torture on them. please, now more than ever, pray for them if you’re religious, talk about palestine, boycott, protest, strike, donate if you can, contact the people in charge. don’t let people forget. here’s a link to some details on the situation. everybody stay safe 💗.

10:47 - you return from a strenuous day of patrol and odd jobs around Jackson. You’re slightly tipsy, a drink or two from the Tipsy Bison churning a pool of warmth within your stomach.

The place is stagnant when you push the door open, as if coming home to nobody.

Ellie must’ve gone to bed early today.

You drift to the bathroom despite the fact that the house feels apocalyptic, and sit in the gentle rush of water, scrubbing your skin weakly with aching arms.

When you enter your room, everything is still, except for the rhythmic rise and fall of Ellie’s figure beneath the covers on the bed backed against the wall.

You throw the dampened towel that is slung over your shoulder carelessly and walk over to the bed, gently settling beside her.

For a while, you feel content. Sleep is lulling you in, the room is shadowy, the bed is warm, and the sound of Ellie’s deep-sleep-breaths (totally not snores at all, she swears) are soft like TV static in the back of your mind.

Your eyes are on the verge of fluttering close for the last time tonight so you turn onto your side and nestle into the crook of your shoulder.

Then, there’s a harsh jolt and the bed shifts. You can feel Ellie’s puzzled gaze raking over you, the realisation that you’re home setting, and your lips twist into a smile subconsciously. The night rarely ends without the inebriating buzz of affection.

A quiet sigh escapes the enclosure of her blush-pink lips before she reclines into the pillows once more, eyes never leaving the still curvature of your figure. Not a moment passes and her arms encircle your waist, warmth embracing your torso and pressing against your hair like a wreathe of absolute comfort.

A barely audible mumble tickles the helix of your ear,

“Hey, babe,” accompanied by the phantom touch of her lips against your cheeks in her half-asleep state. You scrunch your nose before turning into the love she offers you.

“Hey, Els.”

You begin to mumble butterfly details about the happenings of the day as you feel the surface of her skin raise with goosebumps under the delicate tracing of your fingertips - down her bare thighs, along the round of her hip, along her stomach and under her boobs - easing airy chuckles out of her.

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Hm? Nothin’…”

You can already picture the smirk on her dazed face,

“Ya sure there? You want somethin’, babe?”

A playful scoff and she’s looking at you with feigned shock against the weight of tired eyelids,

“Can’t I feel you? I just wanna be close to you,”

“I’d say we’re pretty close, ya know?”

“Never close enough,” you clarify and the rasp of her laugh fades into silence and she presses a kiss onto your head, and then another, straining her neck till she’s face to flushed and grinning face, stringing a blizzard of soft, dewy kisses across it.

“Alright, alright!”

“One more- mwah,” she smacks her lips against your scrunched up mouth aggressively, leaving a gross patch of saliva, and smiles dumbly to herself, tightening the hold of her arms around you to which you groan.

Tight against her gentle sway, she mutters a quiet confirmation,

“Never close enough,” and then runs the rough pads of her fingertips along the expanse of your skin, lingering a moment on your thighs.

It’s like the rustle of a spring breeze and it draws your eyes to a close.

As you drift further from the surface, you feel the soft tingle of Ellie’s foot nudging your ankle and the distant haze of her voice whispering,

“You sure you don’t want anything, baby?” and you’re asleep.

also, absolutely no one asked for this but here are some pictures of my fat ass cat (cutest patootie evah 😆😆):

#ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie fluff #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #tlou2 #tlou fanfiction #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams tlou #fanfic #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x reader #ellie smut #ellie williams smut #tlou part 2 #the last of us #drabble #the last of us x reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #cocteau twins #lesbian #gay #ellie williams headcanons

[coughloop]

puddle water is one of my favorite tastes. not only that, but stagnant pools smell amazing

[eiightysixbaby]

sunscreen and chlorine

word count: 3.5k

pairing: lifeguard!eddie x fem!reader

summary: things get steamy during an unbearably hot day at the hawkins pool.

cw: 18+ MINORS DNI - SMUT. oral (m receiving), sexual innuendos with a popsicle, sex in a public place, unprotected p in v, creampie, billy is mentioned in this lol. lmk if i forgot any!

author’s note: lifeguard!eddie has been invading my brain for days so here, have this.

It was hot. So, so unbelievably hot. The kind of heat where you step outside and feel like you can’t breathe for a second, where the air feels thick and heavy and sweat clings to your skin relentlessly. There was no breeze, none at all, just stagnant heat lingering. Naturally, just about everyone in Hawkins was at the community pool, dying for a way to cool down. Bare feet walking on hot pavement, vibrant swimsuits almost blinding in the sun. Brightly colored beach balls being tossed around in the water as screams and splashes rang out. Eddie sat perched in his lifeguard chair, bright red swim trunks covering his bottom half, stopping a little bit above his knees. A black tank top rested on his torso, clinging tight to modest muscles. Even in the blistering summer, Eddie wasn’t one to parade around with his shirt off. Much unlike Billy, who would take any chance he could get to be wearing as little clothing as possible, showing off his biceps to the suburban mothers who’d fawn over him. Bored women who married boring men that they felt close to nothing for, all for the sake of having that nuclear family, now dying to relive their teenage years. Eddie would occasionally throw scandalous remarks their way when they’d whistle at him, but for the most part he didn’t bite.

Eddie was honest to god sweltering, to put it lightly. The shade from the umbrella attached to the chair provided little comfort for him, but at least it kept most of his skin from receiving direct sun exposure. He’d already applied sunscreen several times, rubbing the white cream all over just to sweat it off a half hour later, and then repeat the process. His pale skin was unforgiving in the summer months, quick to turn an angry red if Eddie wasn’t careful about being in the sun. There’d been one too many occasions where he’d sat perched on the kitchen counter after hot summer days, Wayne rubbing aloe on his stinging skin. Sometimes Eddie isn’t sure why he chose to have a job that required him to be exposed to the elements so often, but hey, it pays the bills.

He peered through his sunglasses at all of the patrons in the pool, wishing he could feel the cool water on himself. His hair was pulled back into a low bun, keeping the heavy curls from making his neck too warm. He kept himself occupied any way he could, blowing his whistle at kids who insisted on running around the pool grounds despite several signs warning not to, laughing to himself when they’d slow to a walk, staring up at him with guilty eyes. Sat high on his perch, his eyes scanned over the various suspects down below - teenage girls sprawled out on towels, pretending like they weren’t absolutely miserable in the sun as they tanned their skin, Jason Carver walking towards the pool with Chrissy Cunningham over his shoulders, laughing in protest about the water being too cold, Billy flirting excessively with anything with a pulse instead of watching the pool. Eddie huffed a sigh, for as busy a day as it was, there was very little for him to actually do. Not that he wanted to have to, you know, save somebody from drowning today or something, but he was just bored. Ninety-five percent of the town’s population had to be here today, and yet none of his friends were around to keep him entertained. He was hot, he was cranky, and he just wanted to go home and unwind. Needed to smoke a joint, maybe rub one out, and go the fuck to sleep.

After yelling at some teenager to stop dunking unsuspecting people under the water, he resumed his people watching. His whistle sat loosely in his mouth, Eddie absentmindedly fidgeting with the silver metal between his teeth, whispers of that shrill chirping sound fighting their way out of the object every time he’d exhale too hard. Pulling his sunglasses off and tucking them on top of his head, his brown eyes roamed over the grounds until they landed on you. He recognized you, remembers you from high school though you two were never close. A pretty thing - you always have been - sprawled across a lounge chair, one leg crossed over the other casually. Water droplets dried on your skin, and the ends of your hair were wet, indicating your recent swim. You had a popsicle pressed between your lips, sticky red juice melting down your hand, the heat affecting the sweet ice too fast for you to keep up with. He doesn’t fully realize how hard he’s been staring until your eyes catch his, and you cock an eyebrow at him. He feels his cheeks heat up, for once from something other than the sun, and is about to just scamper down from his chair and into a hole in the ground before you wave at him, fingers delicately wiggling his way.

He gives you a casual wave back, fully catching the smile that you try to cover with your hand. Your eyes are unwavering on his thin frame, taking in his pale skin that’s littered here and there with tattoos. Gaze pausing on the soft muscles in his arms, trailing down to the fabric of his swim trunks, bunched up just below the waistband, concealing the rest of him that you’d very much like to see. You notice that he doesn’t stop looking at you, either. Eddie shamelessly lets his eyes rake up your legs, the vibrant pink of your bathing suit complimenting the rest of you. He swears his heart almost stops when he meets your eyes again, noticing the sultry look in them as you slowly push your popsicle past your lips once more. It almost completely disappears in your mouth before you pull it out, excruciatingly slowly. You lick it from bottom to top, tongue flat against the strawberry flavored treat, eyes never leaving Eddie’s.

He feels his cock twitch slightly in his swim trunks, suddenly finding it incredibly hard to focus on doing his job. You knew what you were doing, and you weren’t about to back down from what Eddie could tell. The dense heat was getting to his head, his brain turning to mush as he watched you. Juice from the popsicle slowly trickled down your chin until you wiped it with your fingers, proceeding to stick the index and middle in your mouth, sucking the sweet syrup off. Eddie shifts in his seat, subtly adjusting the fabric of his swim trunks, trying to conceal the bulge growing beneath them. You notice the awkward movement, lips twisting into a smirk as your mouth resumes its work on your popsicle. By the time you’ve consumed the entirety of the cold treat, pulling the last bit off the stick with your teeth and letting it melt in your mouth, Eddie is uncomfortably hard. He’s pulled the bright red rescue tube that was once secured at the side of the lifeguard chair over his lap, which wouldn’t seem like a calculated maneuver to anyone except you. You know the effect you’ve had on him, and he knows you’re enjoying it. Now that you’re done putting on a little show for him, he’s not sure what to do next. Was that it? Seductively eat your popsicle for him and it’s over, resume his shift as normal? He couldn’t exactly shout across the way at you to ask for your number - or at least, he didn’t want to make an absolute buffoon of himself trying.

He didn’t have to deliberate for long before he caught you jerking your head to the side, eyes following in the direction of the changing rooms and showers. You stood slowly from your chair, making sure he got the hint, before walking towards the big blue door to the women’s changing rooms. He couldn’t help but admire the way your ass looked as you walked away from where he was perched, soft flesh peeking out around the fabric of your bathing suit bottoms. Eddie was fully aware of the fact that fooling around with you at his place of employment in the middle of his shift was probably not a wise idea, but fuck it. He couldn’t hold off any longer. Gangly legs climbed down the steps of the lifeguard post until his feet hit the pavement below, almost immediately protesting at the heat coming from the concrete. He walked quickly in the direction you had led him, pulling his shirt over his head and bunching it in front of him to conceal the horrendously obvious tent in his pants. He approached Billy who gave him a questioning look.

“Cover for me for a few, man,” Eddie said quietly, for only Billy to hear, shoving the rescue tube at the shorter man for him to take.

“What?” Billy asked, stumbling back ever so slightly as Eddie presses the red safety equipment into his chest.

“Just fucking cover for me,” his voice was firm, and he walked away before Billy could say another word. The other man huffed an annoyed sigh as he headed for the lifeguard chair.

Eddie stepped cautiously into the changing rooms, not wanting to startle any unsuspecting pool patrons, but was pleasantly surprised when the only person he found inside was you. You leaned against a wall nonchalantly, twisting a lock of your hair around your fingers, smiling warmly at him.

“Hey, handsome. Decided to join me?” your voice is playful as you eye him up and down.

“That little show you put on sure was something, sweetheart,” Eddie says lowly, stalking slowly towards you.

“Just wanted to get you all worked up for the real deal,” you smirk at him, and he swallows a lump in his throat.

“Give me one sec,” he says quickly, turning on his heel.

Eddie heads back towards the door, grabbing the maintenance sign that sits in the corner. It reads, ‘Sorry! Temporarily closed for cleaning. We apologize for the inconvenience. -Hawkins Community Pool Staff’. He posts it on the outside of the door, letting the heavy metal swing closed behind him. Best to cover all of his bases here, he certainly doesn’t want any kids getting scarred for life today.

“We don’t exactly want an audience, now do we?” he asks as he walks slowly back towards you.

“No, no I guess not,” you reply, index finger bent with the nail between your teeth, a nervous habit shining through your casual demeanor.

Eddie stands mere inches away from you, breath fanning your face every time he exhales. He finds it hard to contain himself, wants nothing more than to have his hands on you. He steps even closer, looking down at you, loose strands of hair falling from his bun. He discarded the shirt he’d been holding onto the floor, and you find your eyes trailing down to his crotch, the slight bulge beneath the brightly colored fabric looking ever so appealing. His big brown eyes watch you intently, searching for any signs of your discomfort.

“You sure you want this?” he asks, voice steady.

“Yeah, ‘m sure. I’ve secretly been wanting you since we were fucking eighteen, so,” you laugh lightly, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Shit, you could’ve been teasing me with popsicles this whole time?” Eddie jokes, reaching his hands out and letting them gently rest on your hips.

You’re quiet, just admiring the soft freckles on his face and the warm brown of his eyes and those full pink lips. Eddie notices the way your eyes linger on his mouth, and his lips curl into a wicked grin.

“What’re you looking at me like that for, honey? Need something?” Eddie asks, teasing, his face so deliciously close to yours.

“Think I’m in serious need of mouth to mouth…” you say, trying to tease him back but your voice is breathy.

In an instant he’s swept you into a kiss. He groans softly as your hands climb up the back of his neck, tugging on his hair where it meets his scalp. His head is swirling, still fuzzy from the early July heat and now from the feel of your soft lips on his. You smell like sunscreen and chlorine, taste like artificial strawberry flavoring. Your lips are passionate yet gentle in their movements against his, and he wants to melt onto the floor for someone to mop up later. The kiss deepens rapidly before Eddie finally has to break away, the temperature in the large room growing to be unbearable. You read his mind before he can even say anything, and pull him into a shower stall, turning the water on to a comfortably cool temperature. You close the curtain behind you, and when you turn back to face him you drop to your knees, hands grabbing at the soft fabric of his swim shorts.

Eddie feels like he’s floating, like the scorching day got to his head and he’s having some weird fever dream hallucination. The feeling of your fingers ghosting over his happy trail and hooking under the waistband of his shorts brings him back down to earth. He sucks in a sharp breath as you tug the swim trunks down, his cock springing free a couple inches from your face. You’re mesmerized at the sight in front of you. He was big, longer than most you’ve seen but less thick. His cock seemed to stare you directly in the face, flushed pink tip leaking pre cum. A small patch of dark curls rested at the base, and his heavy balls hung low beneath. You lick your lips, cool water from the shower falling in small streams over his shoulders and down his chest. The smooth tile floor is hard against your knees, you’re sure they’ll be bruised and sore tomorrow. You grab the base of him, tapping the tip of his cock on your tongue a few times, looking up at him with wide doe eyes. Eddie hisses, grabbing fistfuls of your hair with his hands.

“Don’t be a tease, honey,” he growls down at you, and you look at him innocently.

“Me? Never,” you reply, taking the head of his cock in your mouth in one swift movement.

He inhales abruptly, then lets out a sigh as you slowly bob your head on his cock, adjusting to the warm feeling of your mouth. You take him as deep as you can, his tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag around him. Eddie groans in response to this, pulling tighter on your hair, silently begging for you to do it again. You oblige, letting the head of his cock abuse your throat, mouth wide open for him.

“Fuck, baby, feels so fucking good,” Eddie’s voice is deeper than before, his eyes dark as they watch your movements.

You lean down further, sucking his balls into your mouth, letting your tongue roll over the stretchy skin. He genuinely yelps, surprised at the contact, eyes squeezed shut. You smile to yourself before sucking them into your mouth once again, Eddie’s whines and whimpers echoing throughout the walls of the building. You bring a hand up to toy with his balls as you redirect your mouth’s attention to the swollen tip of his cock, practically pleading for you to take it past your lips. Eddie’s in shambles as you lick and suck his sensitive head, cleaning the salty pre cum off with your tongue. You take him fully into your mouth again without warning, eliciting moans and curses as he steadies himself with one hand on the shower wall. The contrast between the cold water hitting his back and the sticky humid air tickling the skin of his chest made his head spin, the warmth of your mouth engulfing him only adding to the varying sensations. He feels himself inching closer and closer towards release, and he abruptly grabs your chin and pulls you gently off of him.

“Can I fuck you, baby? Need to be inside that pussy,” he’s trying to maintain his composure but the words come out like a whine, like he’s desperate for you.

You nod as you look up at him, admiring the water droplets that fall from his bangs and the tip of his nose, pussy throbbing between your thighs as his cock rests inches from your face.

“Use your words, pretty thing. Tell me I can fuck you,” Eddie coaxes you, pulling you to stand in front of him

“Yes, Eddie, please. Want you to fuck me,” your eyes are pleading and it makes his cock twitch.

He wraps his arms around to your backside, signaling for you to jump. He holds you securely, back now pressed against one of the shower walls, your legs wrapped around his waist. His lips are on yours instantly, tongue exploring the inside of your mouth with fervor as you whimper for him. His mouth travels down, kissing your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. Hot tongue licking your sticky skin, the faint taste of sweat lingering. He pushes the wet fabric of your swimsuit bottoms to the side, lining himself up with your entrance. He kisses you deeply as you feel him slide into you, stretching you open just for him, velvety walls snug around his cock. He groans into your mouth, pushing himself slowly in to the hilt, and your nails claw at his back in desperation. The stretch is so good your toes curl, your body begging and screaming for more.

“P-please, Eddie, oh my god,” you whine, Eddie’s lips now attacking your neck.

“What, honey? What do you need?” Eddie purrs, big hands squeezing the soft flesh of your ass.

“Need you to move, fuck me rough Eddie, please,” you beg him, clinging to him like a vice.

He gets his bearings on the slippery floor before rutting up into you, slick sounds of wet skin on wet skin bouncing around the shower stall. Eddie gasps as his cock fills you once more, every thrust reaching so deep, his thick fingers pressing into your smooth skin as he supports your weight. You can hear faint screams and laughter from the pool outside, and the reminder of the way no one on the outside knows what Eddie’s doing to you in here makes you dizzy with desire. Eddie’s grunting with every snap of his hips, hair frizzy and bangs sticking to his forehead, a panting mess as he fucks you like his life depends on it. You’re sure your lower back will be sore after this, every jolt to your body ramming you against the wall, but you’re too drunk on Eddie to care. The way your legs are wrapped around him opens you up for his cock to hit the perfect spot inside of you, and you’re screaming his name as he pounds relentlessly into your sopping cunt.

“Yeah? Feels good, baby? You like having my cock deep inside you?” Eddie rasps into your ear, hips moving at an unforgiving pace.

The friction against your clit as his body moves against yours paired with the way his cock hits your favorite spot inside of you has you approaching your release rapidly, your body aching to let go. Eddie’s close, too, moaning out strings of curse words and praise as your walls suck him in.

“Not gonna last much longer, honey, where do you want it?” he asks breathlessly, brown eyes blown wide as they search your face.

“Inside, need it inside,” you choke the words out, so blissed out it’s hard to speak.

Eddie picks up his pace, hips stuttering as he lets himself go. You feel his cock twitch, warmth spreading inside you as he pumps you full of his cum. Your orgasm hits you the second you feel him fill you, clenching around his already spent cock, milking him for everything he’s got. Eddie presses his forehead to yours, releasing the harsh grip on your hips as he gently sets you down. Your legs tremble, cum leaking out of you and dripping down the insides of your thighs. You rinse them off with the water from the shower head, before turning it off.

“Fuck, that was hot,” Eddie pants, pulling his swim trunks up before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“When do you get off work? Maybe you could come over after,” your voice is shy as you suggest it.

“I’m the closing guard tonight, actually. Sooo… I could totally get fired for this, but if you wanted to come back here around 8pm after lock up, I could give you some, y’know, private swimming lessons,” he smirks, cheeks turning a slight shade of pink.

“Count me in, baby. I think I’m gonna be needing lessons weekly, though…” you trail off, heavy lidded eyes looking at him as you twirl his hair around your fingers.

“I can work with that,” Eddie grins, pulling you into a kiss.

As the heat of the day eventually fades into a hazy nightfall, Hawkins residents slowly filing out of the pool and returning home, Eddie thinks of nothing but you. Billy almost slugged him for leaving him in charge for so long, but in Eddie’s book it was worth it. Sure enough, at 8pm on the dot, you saunter towards the gate to the pool. In your left hand was another popsicle.

Eddie was sure you’d be the death of him tonight.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #lifeguard!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic

[therandomartmaker]

DPxDC, of dead hearts and brothers.

danny is damian’s older brother au; reincarnation type. danyal is the soft-hearted but still exemplary heir, but convinces ra’s that it is better to have him be the right-hand to damian, losing his heirship. ra’s, having danny as his favourite (cough danny and his inability to not be involved with old creeps lmao) allows him this; thinking that it’d allow danyal to be protected and also give him another option for youth (taking over damian’s body, afo-shigaraki style /hj)

this is all fine and dandy until ra’s decides damian has reached an equal skill to danyal’s stagnant training, and sets up a fight to the death. the lazarus pits are always there for the al ghul family, after all. he expects danyal to win. he expects damian to learn that all of his children are disposable. precious, but tools for ra’s’ use (all except precious danyal, the heart that kept giving).

danyal dies, damian’s sword stabbed into his heart, his last advice to “drive it in harder.” and his last words, “congratulations, brother.”

they bring him to lazarus pit, but it takes him. he sinks into the pool of acrid green and they wait; hours. a day. a week. he doesn’t resurface. they continue waiting because what else are they to do? they are al ghuls, not danal. not precious danyal who could mourn.

this proceeds, a sigil at the pit’s edge once a month, waiting for the lost son to return; but eventually damian is brought before the bat (far less dramatic, ra’s was tired of damian’s growing frustration without danyal to soothe him but no assassin’s had the same emotional state as danyal to provide a pseudo-sibling to play the same role; thus the bats’ family was the next option)

the bats only find out abt danyal when damian sets up for a day of fasting, facing the direction of the pit.

it’s dick who asks why he is fasting, and damian explains calmly. They learn of the boy who knew kindness, of the al ghul’s heart, of the prodigal heir turned advisor to damian. they learn of damian’s brother. when they find out why he’s dead, horror drips down their spines, at damian being forced to kill someone who’d only done good for him.

damian has one thing to say; “Danyal’s advice was not ‘how to kill’. i killed far better than he, after all. i was efficient, but danyal worked cleaner. Danyal’s advice… was ‘to kill your heart.’”

time moves on; damian is adjusted to ‘outside life’ far easier, danyal taught him how to interact with others and understand that words are rarely literal. the lazarus pits are quiet, madness unlikely in those brought from it, and jason affected far less in the long term. until one day there is a knock at the manor door.

alfred opens it, to see a dark haired young adult, assassins’ garb, injured. he does not seem conscious. alfred brings him in; calling the rest to reach a decision on how to treat him, and what his intentions are.

Damian wakes up to the sight of his brother in the moment that damian killed him.

#randomartmaker rambles #randomartmaker writing #dpxdc #dcxdp #dpxdc prompt #short story #small story #btw damian is suffer survivor’s guilt so bad #sometimes he wonders if the fact that he’d crushed danny’s heart so much that the lazarus pits chose to punish him for harming a kind soul

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Taking the Wheel

—

Time Written-10:47 p.m

Dick Grayson/fem!reader smut

—

Clink, clack, clink, clack. The sounds of heels faintly echoed across the long since faded parking lot, carelessly crossing through thin spaces in between cars and trucks to throw the irritating bastard off your back.

Since you didn’t had arrive with friends, and the main reason you arrived to the packed Lounge, especially on weekends, quickly failed, you were left to walk a long ways across the vehicular maze to get towards your car.

A long, irritating walk on eroded asphalt, in obnoxiously irritating footwear.

Honestly? You could’ve cared less for the foot ache, attempting to push your pace to get towards your destination, your club mood spoiled over by a new desire of getting in your warm, vacant bed at home. Your attempt at distracting your endlessly rattled mind by going towards one of the hottest clubs in the city proved to be a complete failure.

This was Gotham. You knew better than to believe you were going to enjoy a night out for clubbing, completely ignorant to the possibility of the last man you ever expected to arrive, clad in his goddamn uniform, on the search for you.

The only way you learned it was him throughout all the blaring music and strong strobe light ambiance was the roar of patrons crowding around the hottest man of the hour around the dance floor.

What a stupid plan honestly, especially with the overwhelming presence of the obnoxious vigilante following shortly behind you, wondering if you were just doing this to get a reaction out of him.

“You can stop following me now, Grayson.”

It was strangely empty tonight, how he managed to shake off the crowds to go after you alone was a question you could’ve cared less to understand or answer.

"You're walking at night? Alone? You realize you live in Gotham, right?”

You only continued walking, holding yourself with your clutch purse tucked under your shirt, your heels scraping along stray parking lot gravel.

"Aren’t you cold?" Dick asks, trying to hide his worry about you being in that dress in this sixty five degree night.

He was right, watching your head shake no, despite how you carried yourself.

"Oh, come on." Dick says in assuming defeat, only to surprise you via cutting off your path by hopping up on the nearest challenger hood, abruptly jumping in front of your path.

“You can't just walk off like nothing just happened between us." Dick asserts, meeting your aggravated stare.

“Get out of my way—“

"Look, I'm tired of giving you space. Call me clingy, I don’t care. We need to talk about what happened, right now." The words sound more desperate than he intended, other than stern and demanding.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” You mutter, attempting to continue your walk before he holds a hand out in front of you, preventing you from squeezing past him.

"There’s always something to say,” Dick says, hoping you’d try to look back at him.

You’re clearly hurting more than you’re letting on. He can’t really blame you.

You’re no party girl, but you are a girl he hurt. Throwing yourself back out into the dating pool was a typical response, even he’s done it, but he can’t let that happen this time. Not with you.

"Let's... let's talk about this somewhere safe, okay?" He asks, looking down at you. You shift your head a bit, giving him an annoyed glare.

“I wanna go home, okay?” You nearly spat back to him, insisting to yourself that you had no patience to deal with him.

Dick doesn't immediately move in response, gazing down at you with sympathy instead of irritation, such a heart throb in his pretty eyes.

He probably practiced this often every morning in the mirror ever since you broke up, keeping you hooked like a mouse with cheese, or a pretty boy who always knew what to say.

“… Okay.”

He offers his hand out, awaiting your keys in his open palm.

“At least let me drive you home.” He offers, remaining stagnant until he received the only answer he expected. It’ll make him feel a whole lot better knowing you weren’t in the worst place in Gotham right now.

You could only huff through your nose before rummaging through your purse, pulling out your keys.

“Fine,” you mutter, dropping the item into his quickly closing hand. “Just home. That’s it.”

“That’s it,” Dick confirms with a hand raised before stepping off to the side, allowing you to walk ahead of him. “Promise.”

The car was warm, the heater constantly blowing warm air against your exposed back, nearly bumping back against your leather steering wheel.

The driver’s seat had long since been reclined, the material lightly squeaking in response to your sweaty bodies shuffling against each other. Lips battling in between teeth and tongue for dominance he willingly gave you, giving you the impression of control.

His body completely hidden by the suit, while you were still in your backless, black sequin party dress.

Sure, the car was private and warm, the alley was dark, the only light coming from the tiny radio screen, faintly reflecting off the various tiny black sequins of your dress, now pulled down from your torso, decorating your waist like a belt of dying stars.

You remembered the way his gloved hands impatiently unclipped the seatbelt so he could pull you across to his lap after an unprecedented, filthy make-out. The way he had purposely massaged the insides of your thighs caused electricity to shoot through you, needing you as close as physically possible, your short dress riding up precariously over your thighs.

"I should have done this sooner," Dick grunts against your painted lips while pinching your nipples in his thumbs, your nails rasping down the smooth material of his Nightwing suit, pulling it off his shoulders.

“D’you think someone will see us like this…?”

"No one's gonna be looking," Dick gasps out, his tone confident while dripping with cocky arrogance. "And if they do... who the hell cares."

Dick could barely focus on what was happening outside the car as it was.

For some reason, that thought made this all the more exciting. Not that the thought of being seen with a beautiful woman in Nightwing’s lap ever seemed like a bad thing.

“You looked amazing in this dress..." he runs a hand along the curve of your hip.

"But you look a lot better without it."

You’d physically cringe if you weren’t so damn aroused. Only someone like him could pull off cheesy one liners about eighty six percent of the time.

"So do something about it,” you whisper, nipping his bottom lip in your teeth, nearly contemplating on drawing blood once he chuckled.

"With pleasure, Princess.”

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he lifted you slightly with such ease, allowing him to pull his hard cock from the torturous material that suffocated him.

It would’ve been a much quicker process to undress if he randomly decided to arrive in that god awful disco suit, but it was far too late to complain now.

Prep was limited to the pleasant view of Dick stuffing three fingers into your warm hole, smirking at your hiss before raising them to his mouth, making a show of gathering his own spit while tasting you, before giving the tip of his red, angry cock a few quick strokes.

His fingers hooked your thin, messy panties to the side, hiding his mused smile from your gaze upon hearing your terribly hidden whimper as you felt the soft, blunt tip poking at your opening. A large gasp of air quickly invaded and evaded your lungs as you pushed down on him, feeling him splitting you open inch by torturously thick inch.

His own lust begged the rest of his consciousness to push further into you, aching to stuff the rest of himself inside your wet, greedy cunt. Luckily, you listened to your own thoughts, sinking yourself the rest of the way until you were properly seated, your bare thighs resounding against his with limited time to adjust.

"Holy-" He finds himself whining out, nearly crumbling apart from your silky, sweet cunt gripping him like a damn vice. Incidentally, his grip on your thong tightened after an involuntary thrust, forcing the weak band to snap apart.

The man could’ve cared less, carelessly tossing the ruined garment before gripping your hips with both hands, fingers hooking along your dress as an additional anchor to feverishly fuck you, hearing your breathing shift into quick, eager moans.

He wanted to take control so bad, but he was losing it before he even began.

The moans he emitted were heavenly, the muscles in his throat constricting as his head tilts back against the rest. He groans out your name in a delightful sigh, his fingers digging into your plush ass.

Lipstick prints littered his neck, eyes squeeze shut behind his domino mask.

“God, I've missed you,” the vigilante whimpers out, admiring your silvery necklace clink along the valley of your perfect, juicy tits bouncing erratically close to his chest, accompanied by the jingle of your matching bangles as you sunk your nails deep into the muscles along his back.

Dick's heavy lidded eyes gazed at your flushed face, your cheeks tinted pink with heavy, orgasmic blush. Your mascara stained lashes littered with cloudy black tears, bits of dappled glitter in the corners of your eyes, your signature touch, remaining poised along your perfect face. The picture he always looked forward to taking after every successful date night.

"Do you feel how much I've missed you?" Dick grumbles against your shoulder, his voice breathless, despite his best efforts to control his emotions. “Feel how hard, how deep, just fucking into this pussy? That’s all you baby.” The seemingly endless cooes against your neck render endless shivers down your spine, garnering the exact reactions he wanted from you; straining against the tight clench of your eager cunt.

"Oh-God. Fuuuck yes, missed you so much, princess,” Dick whispers, his tone filled with lust and excitement. He teetered on the edge of begging you to bite him again, to mark his neck up however with as many nips as you please, eager to see such raw evidence of your teeth marks in the morning.

“Mph— take it, baby. F-fucking take it all.”

You could only moan in response to his many words against his neck, your painted eyes nearly fluttering closed as you persist on your relentless pace. He was enjoying this a little too much, as much as you were, if not more.

Amidst the mind numbing euphoria of fucking his ex girlfriend in her own car, calloused hands full of black sequins and exposed skin, even he was calling himself an idiot in his own mind as he whimpers a lot louder than he intended within your shared ecstasy.

He was a damn idiot, thinking only about how much he’s hated being in a relationship with anyone except you. How much you’ve grown to become his favorite person; the one woman he needs every damn night. Every second of the damn day.

And if he wants to prove it by having you ride his cock in the seat of a car parked in a secluded alleyway, so be it. He’ll spoil you with a white plush bed caked in rose petals once after you agree to get back together with him.

"Ba-Baby..." Dick croaks through his stutter, his voice cracking slightly as he watches you come to an abrupt halt to his dismay.

A weak, pathetic grunt spews from his lips as you roll your hips, rocking along his lap, his bruised Adam’s apple bobbing after each whimper and whine. "Don’t stop—don’t stop. Shiiit, I’m begging you—“

His words muffle in a quick second as you stuff your ruined, bunched up thong into his mouth, cerulean eyes widening in surprise by boldness.

Many times he’s taken the lead, regardless over where your horny selves ended up. Any recollection of him doing this to you quickly faded once you locked eyes, his brows raised in surprise and submission to your taunt, prideful expression, lipstick smeared lips scowling in annoyance.

Right now, right now you wanted nothing more than to take out your frustrations on him. Even if it was one of the least violent thoughts you had when it came to him, you compensated via heavy scratches and relentless bites on his neck, and now this.

He wouldn’t be whining like such a bastard in a rut without your sweet, creamy pussy downgrading him from an arrogant, cocky, fearless vigilante into a raspy, quivering disciple. Bright, pretty putty in your hands.

Your hands grasped along the back of his head, purposefully frazzling his sweaty, perfect locks of hair as you eagerly chased another kiss. Your hands gripped his hair tighter causing him to take a sharp intake of air in.

You wouldn’t be such a quivering mess without the constant spear of his hard, delicious cock. A victim to this nearly endless cycle of ‘Fuck now, ask questions later.’

‘Or, just fuck some more later.’

You knew this, and you knew he’d give you what you wanted first before you even considered the idea of forgiving him.

“I need you to- fuck, j-just shut up. Shut up a-and keep going, Dick. Keep— Keep going. Just- Just keep fucking me.”

He stares straight ahead at the rich goddess amidst the fogged up windshield in front of him, his hands reinforcing his grasp along your thighs.

Obediently, he picked up the pace, the fat head hitting directly on your sweet spot much rougher and faster with intentions to leave you bruised, hoping you’d allow him to care for you for the rest of the week shortly after.

He moaned much louder against the damp, pheromone laced fabric, swallowing up your sickeningly sweet venom while he pistons his hips, making his soaking wet, twitchy balls constantly smack against your overstretched cunt.

Oh, if only you knew how much you drove Richard Grayson wild, if only you knew.

Hell, what was the argument even about? Neither of you could barely remember anymore.

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