#which is a tad bit dramatic but oh well

[ghost-proofbaby]

asking about so mordor it is during 24/7 hype is like asking the teacher if there’s hw at the end of class HAHA

nooooo never!!! mordor is my baby

i will be honest — i’ve been avoiding asks about it due to a few unkind ones i’ve gotten recently where people haven’t been the… nicest in the way they expressed wanting an update (but most of you are lovely who ask!! even simple “hey how’s mordor going” is welcome <3). i just haven’t known how to respond i guess.

the short answer is: it’s going! i wish i could give a more definitive answer regarding the next update because i love writing that fic very dearly, but i’ve just worked the last few days and haven’t gotten the chance to sit down and finish the final scene for the next chapter. 😭

the longer answer, which it’s not specifically you that has mentioned this nonnie, but others, is that my process with mordor just takes longer than 24. it’s more involved. when i say i’m working on mordor, it means i am rewatching the show, i am meticulously researching, i am rereading shire and going over my plot specifically for mordor. it’s just a lot more brain power required, which i fully brought upon myself and don’t mind because like i said, i love this fic and getting to write it and share it with you all!! it just means there’s a lot more happening behind the scenes with it on my end. i know it may not seem that way to all of you (as some people have expressed), and i know that maybe some don’t find the writing reflecting all that effort/being up to par, but at the end of the day… i’m trying my best and i’m most worried with my enjoyment. if i’m not enjoying it anymore, then it’ll show in the writing, and that just… isn’t what i want for my fic, y’know?

i really am sorry that updates on mordor take longer, and i am so endlessly appreciative to those of you who are patient enough to wait it out and still show so much support <3 i love y’all. thank you for taking a story that has turned into a very vulnerable part of my heart, and for treating it with care. 🖤

also i’m so sorry for picking on you specifically nonnie you’re just one of the nicer asks i’ve received recently regarding it and i’d rather extend an answer to you then someone being rude!!! <3 thank you for reading and thank you for being excited about it haha ily <3

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. height difference + jjk men — seeing you struggling to initiate a kiss, ft. gojo, nanami, toji, choso

note. super self indulgent once again woopsies

tags. jjk men x female reader (separately). fluff, suggestive themes. size difference obviously: reader is shorter than the characters. little hint of an age gap in toji’s part (you; early 20’s, he early 30’s). reader gets referred to as ‘small, short, adorable’. nicknames used ‘baby, sweetheart, princess, little girl, angel’. includes drabbles for each character.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

“what’s the matter, baby?” satoru easily notices whenever you’re internally debating something. you’d fidget with your clothes, look around and nibble on your bottom lip.

even if you say that it’s nothing, your lover knows that you mean the exact opposite. he walks hand-in-hand with you out of the boutique where he had bought you a pretty dress. his thumb rubs your skin gently, hoping to comfort you with whatever you’re struggling to say.

“it’s uhm,” you finally speak up. satoru halts his steps and tilts his head with a curious pout on his lips. he doesn’t wish to pressure you into anything, so he keeps quiet.

his blue eyes follow your movements from behind his sunglasses. you step closer to him, your small hands travelling up to gently hold onto his jacket. you gulp before balancing your entire body on your toes—creasing your shoes a bit by doing so.

at this point, satoru knows what you’re trying to do. your actions are absolutely adorable and make the sorcerer giggle. he wants nothing more than to squish your cheeks together for being so cute. especially because you’re failing to reach his lips.

“oh, do y’need help maybe?” satoru asks with a smug grin. you frown and try to stand on the tips of your toes, though that didn’t seem enough. your lover needs to lower his head a tad more for you to kiss him.

satoru tilts his head backwards instead. he loves to see you pout and struggle to carry out such an affectionate act. he can’t help it—you’re so fun to tease, “c’mon, you can do it, baby!”

when you give up due to his constant teasing, the white-haired man gasps dramatically. you smack his bicep and turn around with a huff, “forget it.”

before you can take another step away from him—satoru’s hand reaches out to hold your wrist. he pulls you back against his chest, warm palm holding your cheek and tilting your head up so his glossy lips could meet yours.

“sorry,” satoru mutters against your mouth. his tongue sneakily swipes against yours which causes you to squirm. he gives your bottom lip a playful nibble in response, “couldn’t resist teasing you a little.”

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

“welcome home, dear!” you greet kento at the front door as per usual. he sighs in relief and smiles tiredly, appreciating your appearance before him. he seems utterly exhausted from his most recent mission.

“it’s good to see you, sweetheart,” kento shuts the door behind him. he takes off his shoes and places them where they belong before doing the same with his coat. he looks down at you as you help him tidy his belongings, “you’re looking beautiful tonight.”

to say you’re flustered is an understatement. kento always knows just how to get you shy and embarrassed from the casual way he compliments you. you’re in your pyjamas and apron—barefaced with nothing extra going on and yet your lover is completely engrossed by your looks.

“thank you,” you murmur back with a bright smile. kento smiles as well after seeing your happy expression. that’s what he does it for.

you hold kento’s hand and feel its warmth engulf your skin. his palms are a little rough; probably from the hard work he put into those recent missions he did. you look up at the blonde man in front of you and want nothing more than to kiss him—show your gratitude for everything he does for you.

thus, you lean in and stand on your toes, balancing on one foot whilst the other floats a few centimetres above the wooden floor. it’s hard to find a balance, though your attentive partner is quick to lend a hand.

“careful,” kento whispers, his voice so husky that you feel a shiver run down your spine. his big hands settle on your waist and he doesn’t waste a single second after that.

he leans in as well, head lowered to yours and your noses lightly brushing against each other. kento’s lips find your soft ones—interlocking them in a passion filled kiss. you can feel his entire body relax even more. as if he’s waited all day to be back home. to be back to you.

to kiss and hold you close.

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

“over here, princess,” toji calls you over with a subtle wave. he’s leaning against a brick wall, hands in the pockets of his black jacket. you walk over to him with an excited smile—happy to spend some quality time together with him today.

“hey, i missed you,” you comment and wrap your arms around his waist. you nuzzle your face against his chest to which toji reacts by giving you an awkward head pat.

the older man lifts your head up and away from his body by holding onto your chin. his eyes run over your face, letting out a short content hum. he’s missed you a lot too. not that he’d tell you that directly.

“how’s uni for ya?” toji asks. the pad of his thumb rubs your cheek and you lean into his touch. it brings a little smirk to his face—seeing how easily you become putty in his hands is rather amusing.

“been okay for most part,” you shrug and fail to maintain eye contact with your boyfriend. he probably doesn’t do it on purpose, but his half-lidded eyes makes your lower abdomen feel funny.

you’re still so nervous around him, though you’ve got the guts to at least kiss him first. you missed the feeling of his lips against you after all. the constant, soothing rubs of his thumb against your cheek only intensifies your desire.

you lift yourself up on the tips of your shoes. your cold hands cup toji’s face and he immediately gets what you’re trying to do. he snickers at the sight of you struggling to reach him and acts like he doesn’t know what you want.

. . until you whine about how you really want to kiss him. that man is sold the moment he hears your whiny voice.

“fuck. c’mere, little girl,” toji’s veiny hands go around your waist and move down to cup your ass, his lips crashing down onto yours with a desperation he’s never kissed you with before.

𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎

“do i need to add salt? she’s talking too fast,” choso ask whilst scratching his head. he’s watching a youtube video on his phone; specifically a cooking one. he’s attempting to copy a recipe in his kitchen and you’re helping him since he doesn’t know too much about phones. and cooking apparently.

you giggle and grab the phone from the counter. the lady’s words are incomprehensible due to the video being on two times the usual speed. you return the settings to normal with a light hearted chuckle, “yeah, because you’ve sped up the video, silly.”

“oh,” choso smiles sheepishly. he checks the stove and makes sure the food isn’t burning before turning towards you, “thank you. you’re a lifesaver, heh.”

you can’t help but admire the view of choso in front of you. he’s in an apron which is too small on him since it’s yours—his chiseled chest accentuated by the fabric. his black hair is up in a small ponytail and his cheeks are red. probably from embarrassment.

“you’re adorable,” you comment lovingly. choso’s cheeks turn even redder by your compliment and he sputters some words about how he ‘needs to focus on his cooking’.

you interrupt his stammers by getting closer. your lover stops and his lips are parted—giving you the perfect chance to capture them into a kiss. well, you try to at least

choso notices your silent struggles and blinks. it takes him a second to fully grasp the situation before he decides on helping you. he smiles warmly, his beefy arms effortlessly lifting you up to his height, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist.

one hand is on your thigh, the other holding the back of your head to deepen your shared kiss. choso pulls away and attaches his lips to your neck, settling you the counter, “want more, angel. you drive me crazy.”

[thepeonysbackup]

◇Meal time◇

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Part two of: Dry humping

Tags: More boring plot between, MDNI, smut, under the table, Husk gets traumatized, semi public, oral (M receiving)

Summary: After your incident in the kitchen, it seems the overlord just didn't have enough of you. So under the table in the dining hall of the new hotel you kept him warm from beneath the table until he sees it fit to take things to the next level.

A/N: I wasn't expecting to make this, but wooah- The last one got so much attention, and I honestly am honored you’d want more from me.

Word count: 1.3k

Request: Yes/No (By: @notalwaysa and my other ducklings~)

Part three at: Satisfaction

The grip Alastor held on the silver spoon within his clawed fingers tightened enough to bend it in half as his smile tightened. The soft caress he felt on his inner thighs made it happen, your dainty fingers slipped up it to the zipper of his red pants, pulling slowly as Charlie gushed about how much she was enjoying the dinner you'd planned for them all, the flavors all mixing in oddly fond way she couldn't place, she gave a sigh as she took another large bite which earned laughs and giggles from the girls. The wet patch on the crotch of his clothing from your moments just prior remained, his hips lifting ever so slightly to push himself a tad bit towards your grasp made you rather aware of how much he was urging you on, coaxing with mere movements for you to unsheath his steadily aching heat. Your lips drew a flat line when Vaggie inquired on your whereabouts, your hand gradually massaging the easing boner that was reforming in Al's lap. You managed to shuffle even closer until your head was right against the table cloth, breath fanning the fabric as your motions became slowly lighter, a teasing pinpoint from just enough to make his radio static hiss almost enough to catch attention of anyone else. “Yeah, she made this stuff for us, and she ain't even here to see us enjoy it!!” Angel dramatically groaned across from Husk, who was sitting beside Al, whose eyes were flickering around, and ears were on guard. “Uhh- Well..- Hey! Maybe she got tired and went to bed. It must've been exhausting to make this for us, especially when she didn't have to at all, by any means!” Charlie defended with a nervous smile, head looking around as well, “Don't you think so, Al?”

The mention of him made his attention turn from you to the princess, his tight smile easing slightly as he gave a laugh and gently slurped on the Gumbo from his special bowl, his free hand snaking down to place it above your head so he could stroke your hair in an unexpectedly soothing manner, “I believe wholeheartedly that she's here in spirit,” He gave a hum, static prickling the volume to a more unreasonable amount then usual, “Absolutely enthralled that were enjoying such a wonderful meal together.” He nearly strained as Charlie gave a dramatic coo, sparkles practically floating around her as she spoke about how proud she was that he was getting along with you so well. Oh boy, if only she knew just how well.. Suddenly your hair was gripped tightly and you were pulled flush against his crotch, cheek getting rubbed lightly against the lukewarm frabric in a concerningly soft way contrast to the grip you felt on yourself. It was a signal, one you had no problem understanding and acting on as your hand finally pulled his reharddened sticky length from its confines and gave a damp kiss to its base before a long teasing lick all the way up to its slit, burning the lovely sight of it jumping in your hand into your memory. He must've never touched himself, let alone let others, how perfect for you..

*SLAM*

The sudden sound came from the Overlord above, hand hitting the underside of the table after letting go of your hair, supposedly he hadn't expected such an action just yet. You had that to your advantage, giving him a few more soft barely-there licks up to his tip before placing both your lips against the side of his shaft and slowly making firm stroking movements up and down with your hand, lips working what you couldn't fit around your petite fingers. He made a grunt as he manifested a napkin and brought it up from his lap as if that's what he had been grabbing all along, “You okay?” Intruded Husk, his brow raising skeptically as his gaze began to travel down to the legs of the deer demons chair, where he could just barely see a pair bare skinned knees shifting slightly beneath them, he had to blink, looking back at his owner. “Peachy, old pal. Why do you ask?” Alastors nonchalant response urked the barcat, voice rumbling as he gave a, “Er, no reason.. Forget it.” Due to the subtle change in the way his deer had smiled, it's was sharper, strained with an expression that traveled to the dials in his eyes that spoke millions of undeniable threats. He couldn't say anything.

The meal continued with banter, Alastors claws now digging into the underside of the wooden table, eye twitching from your affection from below causing the pre-cum to form at his tip, shaft pulsing lightly as your tongue now played across his skin more confidently. He sighed quietly, ears flicking backwards for but a moment before he heard an annoyed, “Fuck-” From his side, seeing as Husk had dropped his spoon somehow. You took him into your mouth, a sharp breath from above being your cue to keep going until you had about half of him inside, eyes closing momentarily, your mind completely void of everything else around you as you gave a small noise against his hardness as it pushed past your uvual. You hadn't noticed the hand that was searching for the glinting silver below the tablecloth, or how it had brushed over your leg just enough to rise a small swallowed whimper from you, a head and body quickly found its way underneath the table only to jolt to a furry stop at the sight of you in such a not only lewd but shamless position. As your eyes opened, it took you a moment before you caught a glimpse of the bartender beside you gawking in sheer disbelief.

You were such a polite thing, never once had he thought...

But when you did, you stopped completely in your tracks to whip your panting head over to him, tempted to explain yourself, but stopping in the process as it would've alerted everyone. Alastors hand turning you back and against his cock again made you rethink and bat your eyes in thought before you ultimately gave Husk one final glance before setting back to work. The white claws of the former overlord quickly swiped the spoon from the ground before he went to stand up, hitting his head hard on the table which caused everyone to stop talking and laugh a bit as he came back up with a red furry face without his hat. Nothing was said about you, but the hand that was still on your head probably wouldn't have stopped pushing you down either way. The sporadic movements made your vision spotty, throat quickly becoming sore from the painful angle in which he was aiming you at as you almoat silently gagged on him, throat contracting enough for him to shove you down all the way. Almost silently.. Sadly, there had been just enough noise for Angel to hear, and his head perked up, “Am I going crazy or did I hear somethin’?” He said aloud, head on a swivel before Vaggie gave a groan and her hand pinched the bridge of her nose, “No, there's no-” You couldn't hold the soft cough that left you as you ripped yourself back, not having expected the man to give your throat a thick load that dribbled right down your chin onto your chest. “Okay, yeah, I heard that-” The fallen angel added just as Alastor placed his napkin next to his glass of wine, “Well, I must say I did enjoy our little family meal. But I have many things to do this evening, I do hope you discover whatever that odd noise truly was!” With Alastors words being spoken quickly and methodically he sunk into his shadows while grabbing both his cane and the glass of red liquid casually, you coming along with him just as quickly as Charlie bid him goodbye.

[luludeluluramblings]

Conner Kent's Obsession with Smalltown!Reader

A/N: I saw a few people liking the Superfam stuff and finally went nuts attempting this Conner bit. I tried. I tried so hard. I added dialogue. I'm used to the YJ Conner, but this is my attempt at Comic Conner. If he's OOC, oops. Yeet. (I attempted to research, I swear.) Might edit this some later.

A/N: I write Reader with an accent. One, cause that's how I talk. Two, cause I like it like 'dat.

A/N: I'm also almost done with Part Seven, but I'm adding dialogue to that too to make the breaking point a tad bit more impactful. I've never really written dialogue before.

Warnings: Slight Yandere themes. Romantic Yandere. (Very subtle.)

Conner’s run-ins with Reader always seemed to piss Tim off. Especially after Tim started researching into Reader. He would occasionally always beg Tim to invite Reader to hang out. And, he would find himself rejected every single time. Before it was probably due to Tim being dramatic. Now, he certain of this, it's because Tim dramatic and jealous overprotective.

On other occasions, he'd just by pass Tim, leaving him to his cases (and creeping) so hecould sneak and bother reader. They’re kinda cute, in his opinion. Of course they call him a big city boy and said he clearly lived off of his daddy’s money. Which was only kind of wrong. But, they way they said it made his a trail of heat crawl down his spine.

After some time had passed, he knew that Tim and the other members of the family were suspicious about him coming to the manor so much. He never tried to hide his reasons There was no point in hiding behind weak excuses. He respected the Bats too much to even think he could fool them. Plus, lying to the Bats was a good way to get stabbed with a kryptonite knife. Even though they had made it pretty clear that they disapproved of him coming around so often, He was still going to keep visiting. Could they really blame him? It wasn’t his fault he was enamored so easily. 

He kept his distance just a bit. Like he was silently (commanded) requested. He could tell he made the newest addition to the family a bit uncomfortable. And, he understood. The clone thing was kinda freaky after all.

Well, at first he had assumed it was because he was a clone. That would make any normal person feel a bit weird. But, then he heard them keep call him that nickname. City boy. The way it rolled off their tongue and how often it was said was clearly a sign. They weren’t bothered by the clone thing. They just didn’t like his personality. He could fix that. That wasn’t that hard. He was adaptable.

So when he approached them again, for the million time, he tried to play up the cool and collected act. Going as far as to emulate the Batman. Which, surprising made the ice break. When they laughed at him.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

"No, seriously why are you acting like that?" You're still giggling at how hard he was trying to play up the serious act. Cause that's all it was. You don't doubt he could genuinely be serious for a moment, but this wasn't one of those moments.

"I'm just letting you see a different side of me, is all." Conner replies, trying to keep it up even though he had been quickly caught.

"You mean the imaginary side, city boy? I didn't realize you liked to play pretend." Another teasing snort. God, how you needed that laugh.

"I'm not pretending."

"Yeah, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Yeah."

"No."

"Yes, you are. Don't be lyin' to me now. Or, Imma start gettin' upset."

"Okay, okay... How could you tell?" He conceded after a moment. The way he scratched the back of his head suited him much more than that little Oscar performance he was putting on a few seconds prior.

"I'm observant." Comes the mock arrogant reply. It was hard to give him a cold shoulder when he just made you laugh so genuinely in the last few weeks.

"Oh, look who's playing pretend now." The snark on his tongue doesn't have any heat, but it does bring you some relief. A bit of much needed normalcy.

Maybe it's the fact that the loneliness has slowly crawled into your chest and burrowed it's self deep in that hollow part of you, but it's easy to let your guard down around him for once. You had noticed his efforts to get to know you before, and maybe you let those preconceived notions cloud your little head. But, there was no need for them anymore. The twinge of glee he sparked was enough to burn them away and make you pause before you would rebuild those walls of yours.

"Are you saying I'm not observant?"

"Yep."

"The audacity!" The outrage nothing more than a sham. A simple way to fill the air between them. Cause even if the talk was small, just the hint of it filled something in you. That didn't make your curiosity fade, however. "But, seriously, why are you impersonating Bruce? And in his own house, no less."

The brief silence that washes over you both has you already regretting this. Had it really so long since you've had a proper conversation that you were this out of practice?

When he finally speaks again, it is gives you relief and more regret.

"I just wanted to finally get your attention."

Well, doesn't that make you finally fit in with the rest of your family?

Your tongue brushes over your teeth in an attempt to get the lead coating that made your words weigh heavy in your mouth off of it.

"I'm sorry, Conner. I- I've been smallminded haven’t I?"

"No, I get it. The whole clone thing is freaky." He starts, a light flush on his cheeks. He wasn't expecting an apology, and especially one so soon and so heartfelt.

"Oh, yeah, that... Really it didn't have anything to do with it. I kinda just thought you were a typical concrete jungle flirt. Momma warned me about men like you." You try to hide your sheepishness by adding humor to your voice, praying he catches your sincerity under all the different layers.

He catches something, judging by the beaming smile Conner gives you.

"Really? I had hoped it wasn't, ya know, that."

"Nah, nah. It wasn't. Still, I am sorry." You assume silence is about to befall the pair of you again, but he doesn't let it happen.

"My family owns a farm out in Kansas, you know?" The cheeky grin on his face screams that he's going to be getting his revenge in the form of mild bullying.

"No!" The resounding smack of your palm hitting your forehead nearly echoes in the halls. "I feel even worse now."

"So much for being observant, little detective."

"I never claimed to be no detective. But, I might be more... oblivious then I initially implied..."

Now, it's Conner's turn to guffaw at you.

"The audacity."

"Don't you throw my words back at my. I can't handle it." You can't help by click your tongue. There's hardly any annoyance from your words. "I really misjudged you."

"It's fine! I figured you might still be adjusting to Gotham and the whole Wayne lifestyle. Tim mentioned you're from a pretty small town when I started bugging him about you." He's clearly playing up the charm, but you let it work on you.

"More like I'm still suffering from culture shock." Slowly, you can feel this conversation starting to shift to something deeper than surface level. Things that haven't been allowed into the open air start to ripple underneath.

And, he takes that chance to draw it out.

"Still?" Empathy mixing into his tone. Those icy blue eyes looking incredibly warm. You'd never really taken the time to look at him. Sure, you knew he was attractive. Hell, everyone that seemed to show up at the manor was attractive. But, now you were finally looking at him. Too focused were you in taking in his appearance for the first time, that you completely missed the way those eyes shined with opportunity and desperate want.

"Yeah, still. It's... different."

"Different as in the food's a little weird or different as in the people are a little weird?"

"It's all a little weird, and it's... kinda... lonely?" You can't help the wince. You really don't wanna trauma dump on someone who you had initially misjudged. He didn't deserve that.

But, as he moves closer you can't help it. That desolate part of you longing for comfort when you haven't had it in such a long time and the way he's giving you all this undivided attention when you can barely catch Alfred in the halls these days fills that acute craving in your gut.

"Lonely?" God, the concern in his voice doesn't make you want to cry, but it does make you want to choke

"I... I think it's not here that's different. I think it's me that's too different." The way he sucks a breath in after the words leave your mouth makes you want to backtrack immediately. "I'm so sorry. God damn, am I mess right now."

"No. No. No. You are fine." The reassuring words oddly sound more like a purr, but they capture your attention all the same. "I get it. I really really do."

Why does he have to give you such a disarming smile. He's practically beaming at you now. There's a festering tension blooming around them like spores.

"You are really not helping me fell less like a jerk to you now." The click of your tongue attempting to defuse the budding blooms.

"Hey, if you're feeling guilt... you could, maybe... let me take you out for dinner sometime? Just to make it up to me."

After a stunned moment of thought, you finally find the words to reply.

" Honestly, I'd-"

"CONNER!" Tim's sudden interruption sends the words crawling back down your throat.

"Tim." He calls back in a cool greeting, but he strangely doesn't step back from you. Which is nice. You haven't had anyone close to you other than Dick and a few of your remaining friends at Gotham Academy. And Damian, Cassandra, and Duke get a bit huffy, or in Damian's case murdery, when they are within an arms reach of you.

"Sorry, am I interrupting anything? Conner and I had plans for the day." Tim's pleasant voice sends a wave of unease over you. He's not staring at you when he speaks. Just Conner. It's annoying how he's ignoring you despite you being right. In. Front. Of. Him.

But, then he does finally look at you and his dark grey eyes soften ever so slightly. You're not too mad. Clearly he's exhausted, judging by the bruises under his eyes. There's still a slight reflection in them as he's gaze meets yours, despite how dry the appear. Probably from looking at a computer too much.

"You really shouldn't bother with this guy. He's not worth it." The words are clearly meant to be joking. Casual banter between two close friends. But, you can't help thinking they come off a bit strong.

Conner seems to bristle at them, but he does brush them off.

"That's right, we are hanging out today. Can you blame me for getting distracted, though?" That cocky smirk of his is back, and he actually touches your shoulder. It makes you feels warm, but like a prize at the same time.

All Tim seems to do in response is twitch, but giving nothing away. His grey eyes going steely as they drift to Conner's hand.

When the moment finally passes, Conner lets his hand fall. You can feel it grazing down your back as he pulls away. Slow, like he's trying to strike a match and light something inside you.

"I'll see you later, sweetheart. Just think about my offer and get back to me on it!" Conner calls out as Tim storms behind him. Both heading in the direction of the library.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

As soon as their in the Batcave, Conner can tell he probably pushed it too far. Not that he has any regrets. He finally got somewhere and confirmed all of his previous theories about Reader. They were so adorable apologizing to him, and so deliciously sweet about it too.

He should've realized Tim was watching them, though. Dude was a creep. He maybe his best friend, but he's still a damn creep.

As expected, the rest of the family is also giving him the patented Bat-glare when he sees them. But, as he stated, he has no regrets. He's not stupid enough to stick around, though. He saw Jason loading a suspicious looking green bullet into the chamber of his gun. And, while he knows Tim wouldn't kill him, he's not so sure about the rest of them.

He's confirmed what he's wanted, what he's already suspected. They're absolutely perfect for him and ripe and raw.

[empress-simps]

James Potter Dating Sirius’ Younger Sister (Head Canons)

Note: These are just random stuff, it has been sitting in my notes app for a month or so? Enjoyy

Oh boy, you are in for a wild ride; just imagine all the chaos this would bring. Best believe you always have a stupid prank to worry about around the corner when your brother and boyfriend are pranksters.

You were a year younger than Sirius, being the middle child, and Regulus the youngest, it wasn’t surprising that you were kind of shunned by Walburga and Orion. You’re a girl, you cannot pass the Black family name onto your children, you were also not the heir. Luckily, big brother Sirius quickly took you under his wing and became the parent figure in your life.

You were sorted into Slytherin, along with Regulus much to your older brother’s dismay.

He threw a fucking fit and practically felt his soul leave his body the first time you told him. Sirius even went as far as tearing up and looking out the window, defeated. (And quite dramatically)

“You should’ve been a Gryffindor, Y/n! I don’t even know why the sorting hat put you in that evil house!” Sirius huffed, pouting.

“Regulus is also in the same house as me, brother.”

“Well it was quite obvious that he was meant to be a Slytherin, Regulus has a stick up his a-“

Although the Marauders mainly pranks the Slytherin students, you were an exception. How could Sirius prank his adorable little sister? You don’t deserve it! (also because James is a tad bit overprotective when it comes to you, Sirius just chalks it up as James being respectful to his younger sibling.)

“Siri, please don’t make Reggie suffer too much.” You plead to your older brother, puppy eyes activating as you heard their plans to set a nasty prank to slytherin students earlier. Sirius’ features soften, “Alright, I’ll talk to James. He’ll be the one to decide.” He pats your head, already formulating an apology for the prank he’s sure will not be cancelled.

James has been harboring feelings ever since he saw you on the train ride to Hogwarts with Sirius in his second year, so it was quite obvious what his opinion is on the matter.

Sirius randomly starts later that evening, “Prongs, Y/n was asking if you could exempt Regulus in our prank-“

“Oh don’t worry I’ll cancel it.”

Peter sputters “You’ll what?”

James looked at them “What? Let’s give them a day off.” Remus did a double take and actually sets his book down after placing his book mark. Yeah, that's how you know it's serious.

“We’ve been planning this for months-“

“Did I stutter, Wormtail?”

The hold you had on James though, seriously.

James Potter is whipped for Y/n Black.

You want some food that the house elves didn't prepare for dinner? Don't worry, James is on the case! He will run to the kitchens and bribe the house elves to make you some of your favorite dishes and what you're craving.

“What’s with the long face, princess?” Sirius asks, seeing you slump down next to him, looking quite defeated.

“Just some housemates, I couldn’t study well because of them.” You grumbled, pulling out your Herbology textbook and trying to focus.

Prongs frowned, snapping him out of his daydreams (which were probably about you.)

“Who?”

James want names.

Who dared interrupt his sweet girl’s (still not his girl though but we don’t talk about that) study session?!

Remus, being the observant sod he is, looks at Prongs, amusement swimming in his eyes as he takes in James’ angry and protective form.

Remus and Peter already has a hunch that Prongs fancy Padfoot’s little sister like… about a few months or so?

James doesn’t really even try to hide it, although it was one of the greatest unsolved mysteries on how Sirius still hasn’t figured it out.

“You reckon Padfoot’s just playing dumb? Even an oaf could see Prongs making heart eyes at Y/n.” Peter stated, snacking on some chocolate frogs as he sat on his bed.

Remus rolled his eyes, also sitting in his bed at their dorm room. The boys in conversation were in their quidditch practice. “He’s quite thick, I bet he wouldn’t even know until they started dating.”

“But Y/n’s innocent- doesn’t even know how lovesick James is.”

Peter was utterly wrong about that part.

You know that James likes you, although you try to ignore it, you can’t.

Because you like him back.

“Go out with me?”

You felt yourself blanch, hearing the familiar cheeky voice behind you.

You nearly broke your neck as you spun around to see James holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers while sporting a nervous smile.

“Does my brother know this?”

“Do you think I’d still be here alive when I tell him I’m utterly in love with his younger sister?”

Sirius almost busted a blood vessel when he found out.

Remus had to physically restrain him from lunging at James.

Yea sure, Sirius views James as his brother from another mother BUT BROTHER-IN-LAW?

“Bloody hell, Pads! Calm your balls down!” Remus grunts, back hugging the boy as he desperately tries to wriggle out of his mate’s grasp.

“No! Let me go, Moony! I just want to have a chat with Prongs!”

“Chat my ass! You were about to bloody knock the living daylights out of him earlier!”

It took a while for Sirius to wrap his head around how one of his brother-from-another-mother fancies his younger sibling.

He won’t lie, he felt betrayed by James for a short amount of time. He distanced himself (for a day, lol) but of course, he couldn’t stay mad at James.

Realistically speaking? James and Remus are the ones who are good enough to date you for Sirius.

“Do you love him?”

Sirius approached you one time in a random hallway. Youwere caught off guard with his question. You never saw your brother serious like that before.

“Sirius, what are you talking about?” You tried to feign innocence, but Sirius saw through that.

“James. I know he fancies you. Have you been shagging-“

You quickly clamped Sirius’ mouth with your hand, looking at your surroundings to check if anyone heard what he said.

“Salazar’s balls, brother! I still have my virtue!” You hissed, “Besides, I’m saving it for marriage.” You told him, making his tense shoulders relax.

“Atleast there’s something good that came out of those boring lectures Walburga taught us.”

“I am not a whore like you, brother.” You snickered, a playful smirk present on your face as Sirius slowly processed what you said.

“Why you little-“

It would take some adjustments for Sirius as he slowly takes in the fact that you and James started dating.

It doesnt help the fact that James always proclaims his undying love for you every chance he gets, which is every time.

Although, before he even asks you to be his girl, he talked to Sirius first, asking for his blessing.

Who is Sirius to deny his little sister and Prong’s happiness?

“I just love her so much…” James sighs dreamily, watching you from the Gryffindor table as you ate in silence beside Regulus, who was uncomfortable and tries to shield you from James’ looks (which he finds creepy).

Sirius can feel his eye twitch.

“Can you stop that Prongs? Just say that to her when you’re alone in a room.”

James frowned, “But you don’t allow us to be alone-“

“Exactly, Prongs. I don’t care if she’s your girlfriend—wife even. She’s my younger sister.”

James perked up, “So you’re alright with her being my wife?!”

Hogsmeade dates with James always.

“Honey, you don’t have to get me that necklace.”

He would buy you anything and everything you land your eyes upon more than 1.5 seconds.

He frowns, looking like a kicked puppy. “But you were staring at it!”

“It just crossed my line of vision-“

James certainly went back and secretly bought it for you.

No one can stop him when it comes to spoiling you.

Effie and Fleamont absolutely adores you.

“So, when is the wedding?” Effie smiled, looking at you and James expectantly

Cue Sirius choking in the background.

You blushed as James cleared his throat awkardly, a beet red blush already dusting his cheeks. “Mum…”

Effie blinks, acting innocent. “What? You guys are about to graduate from Hogwarts in… three months or so!”

Your family found out about the relationship.

Walburga’s stinging slap was marked on your cheek. “Have we taught you nothing, girl?!”

Regulus watched worriedly from the side, feeling helpless as Walburga continued to shout and curse at you.

“You good for nothing brat! I should’ve married you off ages ago! To think you’d turn out to be your older brother… Leave! And never come back as you will be no longer welcomed in the house of black!”

Regulus begged to take him with you.

Having nowhere else to go, you knocked on the door of the Potter Manor tiredly, holding your suitcase and Regulus looking around nervously.

Sirius was the one who answered the door.

“she hit you…” James muttered lowly, softly placing his warm hands on your cheek.

“It’s nothing, James.” You shrugged.

“We’ve suffered worse. I’m sure you’ve known that by now.” Regulus told him quietly, not looking up from his cup of warm tea before his eyes flickered to Sirius.

From that moment on, everything seemed to be better.

You’re happy to get out of the abusive household. Bringing Regulus with you, being reunited with your older brother, and hanging out with your boyfriend anytime you want.

Finally graduated from Hogwarts, James decided to pop the question.

“Padfoot..? You in there?” James nervously knocked on Sirius’ bedroom door.

“In here, Prongs! Hold on.” James heard shuffling before the door opened to reveal Sirius rubbing his eyes, seemingly woken up from a nap. He opened the door to let James in his room.

Sirius eyes him, noticing how fidgety one of his best friends are, his mind assumed the worst.

“I swear to Merlin, Prongs. If you got her pregnant and don’t plan to be responsible for it I’ll-“

James sputters, “What?! No! No one’s having a baby!”

Sirius visibly relaxed, “Then what’s gotten you looking so troubled?”

James pulls out a velvet box from his pocket and opened it to reveal an engagement ring.

“Erm… I’m not Y/n, Prongs.”

Cue a face palm from James, “I’m planning to marry your sister, not you, Pads. I’m asking for your blessing.”

Sirius didn’t think twice before giving him his blessing.

Which was why he and Regulus were dragged alongside Remus and Peter to plan a prefect surprise proposal.

“No no, it’s a bit crooked on the right.” James told Regulus, who was setting up the picnic blanket.

“Sirius, remind me again why I have decided to help this stupidly nervous sod?” He deadpanned to his brother.

“It’s for Y/n, Reggie.”

Regulus frowns, scrunching up his nose as he watches James run around like a headless chicken who’s trying to oversee everything.

“Right…”

“Where’s the ring?!”

Regulus could only sigh as he watched James panicking and looking in every nook and cranny, searching for the velvet box with the ring inside— that was obvious in his back pocket, where he placed it five minutes ago.

[pookietv]

silly and trivial | arthurtv

i am usually awful at writing arguments but trying it out to hopefully get better! (but because deep down i'm a softie, all ends well)

george alt of the same scenario will come soon!!

arguments were no ones favourite thing, that was obvious.

but being stood in a stand off with arthur over something so simply resolved, so trivial as whose turn it was to do the fucking washing? you two had gone into some frenzy.

entering your shared apartment to dishes not being done was about the last thing you had needed on this particularly shitty day, and walking into your kitchen to see the grown pile, you raised a frustrated eyebrow at arthur.

"what?" he asked, his tone not too moody but definitely with a certain tone to it.

"you haven't done the dishes, still," you said, voice quiet but with a slight tinge of accusatory remark.

"you're being a tad dramatic, it's a couple of days worth," he rolled his eyes slightly, looking you in the eyes for a moment, his hair slightly messy and his stubble a little overgrown. you had both been overworked, that much was obvious.

"arthur i'm just sick of being the only one doing it! you literally have not done a load of washing in fucking weeks," you said frustratedly, your hands slipped in your own hair and fighting the urge to tear it from your head.

you both knew this wasn't really about washing - you hadn't seen eachother much, you had both been busy and tired and not enough communication had happened, which led to this - a cut throat argument about dirty dishes.

"i've barely been here! you're overreacting here, stop being ridiculous!" arthur bit back, and your eyes narrowed a little.

"oh, i'm overreacting? how am i possibly supposed to cook for us when there's nothing here!" you said, swallowing slightly, biting the inside of your cheek gently

"i've been busy! it's not easy to juggle everything you know," he paused, breath slightly bated, "look, we can just order in tonight an-" he said, before you cut him off with a wave of argument.

"we've ordered in four nights this week already, arthur. you're trying to temp fix a bigger issue here - i just want to be able to come home and cook the meal i planned to cook, without having to worry about if you have pulled your weight around the house!" you said, your lip slightly curled into a pouted snarl.

arthur hissed back, "you're being fucking ridiculous, it's dishes! stop being so fucking stubborn," he said, his voice raised louder than either of you had spoke this argument - sure, you were being bitchy and petty to each other, but his pointed and raised voice made your eyes widen a little and your head turning to the ground, biting a lip to try and stop your eyes from going misty, you hadn't heard that tone from arthur, ever. he was the most gentle and considerate guy you knew, so to hear such a asserted and snappy thing from him stung that little bit more.

hearing a slight gasp from him, like even he was surprised he had snapped at you like that, he stepped a little closer, "listen, i-i didn't me-"

"don't start shouting at me," you murmured, cutting him off. "i'm gonna go in the shower."

arthur's eyes widened a little "please don't walk away, i was being a dick, didn't mean to snap, sweetheart, i jus-"

"i just wanna go in the shower right now," you said, turning your heel slightly to try and hide your face, clearly betraying the hurt as you heard arthur sigh to himself as you left the room, the bathroom door signalling you were gone.

once you were in the bathroom, you instantly turned the shower on, the steam filling the room as you allowed your eyes to go slightly clouded, wiping them off with the sleeve of your shirt. you had no intentions to shower, but you just needed five minutes to gather yourself and not let arthur see you cry.

you felt so silly, was this something you should be crying over? sure, he snapped and he was being unkind, but you felt so childish, crying because you got shouted at.

after a couple minutes, you heard a soft knock on the door, before a more mellowed arthur, his voice soft and dejected, completely contrasted from before, "lovie? please, can hear you're upset from out here. i didn't mean to snap, i'm sorry, that was completely my fault. fighting with you is the last thing i want, i swear. i think we're just arguing 'cause we've been so busy lately, barely seen each other. we can sit down and have a talk about chores, if thats what you need. i don't want to make things harder for you, i'm supposed to make them easier, to help you." you heard him drabble on, and once he paused to take a breath, you cracked open the door slowly, facing him with a slightly red face, tears wiped from your face and a softened but still hurt expression.

"c'mere, i'm sorry," he said, arms wrapping around you easily, one hand going to the back of your head and stroking gently, "i was being a dick,"

you let out a slight soft laugh into his jumper, still a little sniffly, "i probably didn't help, i was being a bitch about something so trivial,"

"no, you're right, i haven't helped enough," he said gently.

you pulled slightly away from him for a moment, "think you're right, we were just getting snappy and short 'cause we're both tired, and have barely seen each other, seems silly 'cause we live together but we've seen each other without really seeing each other for a while, you know?" you said softly, and he nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"i know what you mean. what would you rather do, we can order in or if you'd rather cook the pasta you've been craving i'll do the dishes now and we can cook together and chill out?" he offered gently, and you tilted your head a little.

"i can make the pasta. we haven't ate a proper meal together in a while." you said with a soft smile, "you wash and i'll dry?" you offered, and he nodded his head reassuringly.

[fettuccin-e]

The Wonderful Way Things Change

A/N: hi there everyone... shamefully, very shamefully, I have not posted anything original since i think like february. it was an unplanned hiatus! promise it was completely unplanned, this semester just really kicked my ass lol. BUT HERE WE ARE! with matt smut of course how could I not because he is the loml so please enjoy! love you!

Description: Based off this ask, and can be read as a loose sequel to this (my first ever fanfic oh boy oh boy). In which Foggy calls you to check in on Matt, and the sight of your boyfriend all disheveled in a suit is making you a tad desperate. Thankfully, neither of you have the self-control to keep your hands to yourselves.

Tags: Matt Murdock x Reader, afab!fem!reader, no use of y/n, smut like so much smut who do you think I am, fucking Matty in a suit, oral (f!recieving), unprotected piv (pls wrap it up irl fuck them kids) (w/c: 2.5K)

Yours and Matt’s relationship is new, somewhat, but you both know that it’s been a long time coming. It’s only been a few weeks since he finally kissed you for the first time, since he healed your poor, pining heart. It’s not like other relationships you’ve had, with the talking stage at the beginning, where you’re still asking each other about your childhoods, favorite movies, and songs. You and Matt already know everything about each other.

He knows about your shitty job that you hate but manages to pay the bills. He knows all about your childhood, all of your hopes and dreams. Up until a few weeks ago, the only secret you’d kept from him was your frankly ridiculous crush on him.

But you know that it’s the same way for him. You already know about Daredevil, and to Matt’s unending surprise, you accept him, love him for who he is. You don’t want him to give up either side of himself; you’re happy to just have him. Matt is still trying to get used to the feeling of actually having you, instead of just being by your side, letting you slip through his fingers.

Up until a few weeks ago, Matt had resigned himself to only being your friend. The friendship he’d found in you at Columbia would remain just that. Unbeknownst to him, you’d resigned yourself the exact same way. But a misunderstanding and a frustrated and ridiculously dramatic love confession later, you’d finally kissed him like he’d only dreamed of. You’d allowed him to touch you like he’d always wanted, and Matt could swear that he’s never felt anything softer, never tasted anything sweeter than you.

So the relationship is new, but it also feels like you and Matt have just been waiting, settling into routines like you’ve been together for years. You know how Matt is, how he’ll bury himself into cases and recordings and court documents, searching for that one bit of evidence that proves his client is innocent. He sends Foggy and Karen home on nights like these, insisting that they need to sleep, that they work too hard as is.

“He’s gonna be there for hours,” Foggy tells you over the phone. “You’ve gotta get him out of there or he’s going to collapse.” You laugh, pulling on your coat and stepping out of Matt’s apartment. 

Ever since you had both confessed your feelings for each other, and Matt had finally, finally taken you to bed, you had more or less moved in. It hadn’t been intentional, nor had Matt officially asked you, but the one time you had broached the subject of maybe sleeping at your own apartment, Matt’s arms had wrapped around you, holding you to him while he pressed desperate kisses all over your face and neck, telling you that his apartment was so cold without you there.

“C’mon, sweetheart, haven’t we spent more than enough time apart?” he had murmured, and you had agreed.

“Yeah, alright Fog, I’m heading over there now. I’ll make sure you have a well-rested partner by tomorrow,” you giggle into the phone, and you laughed even harder at Foggy’s genuine sigh of relief.

“Christ, how did Nelson, Murdock and Page survive without you and Matt together?”

“It’s truly a mystery, Foggy,” you tease, and Foggy laughs with you. He keeps you on the phone the entire walk to their office building, filling you in on the cases he, Karen, and Matt are working on. You could talk to Foggy for hours, really, but he lets you go as you walk up the steps to their offices. With a promise to talk soon, maybe take a trip to Josie’s, you hang up, shoving your phone into your coat pocket.

You can hear the recording Matt is listening to through the door to his office, some judge droning on and on. You enter the room quietly, heart beating wildly at Matt in his sharp suit, without his glasses, hair mussed from his fingers running through it the way they usually do when he’s working through a case. You watch as a smile blooms across his pretty lips, his eyes lifting to your direction as he pauses the recording.

“Hi, baby,” he says, and his sheer beauty in that moment nearly brings you to your knees. This man, with his hair sticking up in every direction, his tie slightly loosened at his chest, big brown eyes and wide smile is yours. All yours. You can’t help how your heart beats even harder at the thought.

You watch his grin meld into a knowing smirk as he listens to the quick pattering of your heartbeat. “Something got you worked up, sweetheart?”

You hum, crossing the room to where he sits in his office chair. “Oh, you know,” you drawl, trying to keep your voice coy and light, even though you know that your heart is giving away your sudden desperation for the man in front of you. “I’m just thinking about all of the things I get to do now.”

“To me?” He’s playing coy too, trying to goad you.

“Always to you, Matty,” you giggle, and he chuckles in return. You swing a leg over his lap, straddling him and relishing in how his chuckle morphs into a choked gasp. 

“What- What kinds of things, gorgeous?” his voice is breathier now, beautifully affected by your actions.

“Just how I can do things like this,” you wrap your hand into his tie, tugging him towards your mouth. “And things like this-” you breathe over his mouth, before capturing his pretty, enticing lips with your own.

Matt groans into the kiss, smoothing his hands over your hips before reaching behind you to grab your ass in his big, thick hands, tugging you further up his lap. Your clothed pussy rests just over the bulge of his cock through his slacks, and you can feel it thickening beneath you. 

“And you call me worked up, Matty?” you murmur against his mouth, wiggling in his lap and pulling a soft moan from his lips.

“When my gorgeous girlfriend walks into my office, smelling like my apartment and so fucking soft on top of me,” he says, squeezing your ass again, “how can you expect me to be calm, baby?”

Your stomach bursts into butterflies at the title. You’re his girlfriend. He’s your boyfriend. It feels so very juvenile, like you’re twenty years old again and still trying to get through calculus class. Maybe it’s because you’ve been waiting that long. Waiting for him, since you first met him and Foggy at Columbia. It feels so far away now, so different, and yet, you still burn bright and warm with Matt’s attention on you. Calling you his girlfriend.

He shifts his hips under yours, the bulge of his thick cock against your pussy impossible to ignore, and you whine, just barely, but Matt hears. Of course he does.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “So fucking needy.” He lurches forward again to press his lips to yours, licking into your mouth. 

“Please, Matty,” you whisper, and he groans into your mouth all over again. He doesn’t separate his mouth from yours as he lifts you against him, using a hand to brush the cumbersome documents and files off the desk behind you, before laying you softly against it, running his hands over your waist and kissing you like you’re something precious. 

But you are, Matt knows that you are the most precious thing in the fucking world. And you want him. Matt can hardly believe it sometimes; he still sometimes thinks he’s dreaming when he feels you in the morning, pressed tight against him, your heart calm and steady with sleep.

He licks into your mouth like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do, and what a way to go. He could stay in this moment forever, kissing you while your hands tangle into his hair. But your sexy little whines are echoing around him, your hips moving in desperate little circles against the aching bulge in his slacks.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he whispers, and you just whine louder. It’s a nearly painful thing, taking his lips from yours, but he can fucking smell your arousal, and the need to dive between your thighs is suddenly too much for him to handle. 

You kind of want to cry when Matt breaks your kiss, but your mourning at the loss of his lips is quickly cut short by his thick, calloused hands pushing your skirt up your thighs, leaving the material to bunch around your waist. He nudges his nose against your clit through your panties, taking a deep breath in through his nose, savoring it, and you nearly black out.

“Oh- oh my God,” you stutter, and Matt smirks in that ridiculously cocky way you hate that you love.

“I mean, I go by Matt, but if you want to call me God-” Matt starts, tugging your panties down your legs.

“Matthew Michael Murdock, I swear-” You want to continue, you really do, but it’s really hard to keep your train of thought when Matt is leaning down and licking a long stripe up your soaked pussy, swirling around your clit and making your hips buck up uncontrollably. He quickly braces a forearm over your twitching body, holding you still with his strength while he eats your pretty cunt.

“So fucking wet for me, gorgeous,” he mutters between your thighs, the vibrations feeling like shockwaves up your spine. “So pretty, baby, could’ve been eating this pretty cunt since college.”

You can barely form a sentence, only able to utter out whines of Matt, Matt Matt, between desperate moans as he licks into you. You can feel him grinning into your cunt, knowing he’s driving you fucking crazy, before he’s drawing up to capture your throbbing clit into his mouth and sucks. He brings his free hand up to sink a thick finger into your needy entrance, crooking it up and pressing into a spot inside that makes white creep into the edges of your vision. He just sucks and sucks, swirling his tongue around our achy clit and playing with you like a toy.

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, unexpected and brutal, and you would have thrashed off the desk if it weren’t for Matt’s strong arms holding you steady. He carries you through it, licking at you softly while he keeps his finger inside, giving your pussy something to clutch onto. As your hips finally stop twitching, Matt rises, leaning over you again, and you can’t help but tug at his tie again, dragging his mouth to yours, uncaring of the taste of your pussy covering his lips.

“Please fuck me, Matty, oh god, please. Need you in me, baby,” you whine, and you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed at how needy you sound. Matt groans, sounding just as desperate as he licks into your mouth. He takes his hands from your body to reach down, undoing his belt and slacks just enough to tug his aching cock out. He’s so hard it’s nearly painful, the head sticky and red and throbbing with the need to fuck you. To claim you.

You wrap your arms over his back, tucking your head into the crook of his neck as he sinks into your sensitive pussy. As he finally bottoms out, you lean back to look at him, at his big eyes staring just off your face, his mouth slightly agape.

“I thought about this, y’know,” you whisper, your nails digging into his back as he presses just a bit deeper inside. “Every time I brought you guys lunch, I-” you moan softly as Matt thrusts, hard and so fucking deep you swear you swear you can feel him in your guts. “I thought about you, fucking me on this desk, in-in this fucking suit, god, Matt.”

“Shit, baby,” he grunts, rocking into you so hard the desk rattles beneath you. You can barely pay attention to it, not when the tip of Matt’s thick cock is grinding into the spot inside you that makes you scream, your nails digging into the soft fabric covering his back. “I thought about you too, god, you have no idea, sweetheart.” You can only whine in response as he continues, “You’d bring us all lunch, wearing your little uniform, fuck, with that pretty skirt and those heels.”

Matt’s hands tighten over your hips, forcing you to meet him thrust for thrust, and it’s so fucking good. You can’t manage to answer him through your desperate whines of his name and choked moans as his thick cock stretches you out for him, but Matt’s still talking. You don’t know if he can stop.

“I could hear your thighs brushing together under that tight fucking skirt, your heels clicking up the hall, and all I could think about was ruining you. Ripping that skirt off you and making you beg for my cock,” he grunts, driving desperately into your soaked pussy. Your head is swimming, drowning in Matt’s words, his scent, his cock.

“Now I can, baby,” he grunts, voice breaking on a choked moan. “I can fuck you just how I’ve wanted, make this pretty pussy soak my cock. Can wake up to you in my bed, fuck you whenever I want, whenever you want, baby, fuck I’m yours. You hear me, angel? I’m yours.” Matt can feel your pussy fluttering desperately around his cock, and snakes a hand between your bodies to press a thumb over your clit. 

He leans over you, his tie loose and dangling over your face as he growls, “and you’re mine. Mine.”

And you’re gone, pussy tightening like a vice around Matt’s thick cock, screaming his name. Little tears escape your eyes, dripping down your cheeks as Matt groans your name in return, hips stuttering into yours and flooding your overwhelmed pussy with his cum. You can hear him, just barely, through the roar of blood in your ears as he whispers, “So good, baby, so perfect. Love you so much, so much, you have no idea. I love you, loved you for so fucking long, angel.”

You bring your hands up to tangle your fingers into his soft hair, bringing him to your lips, whispering a soft “I love you so much, Matty,” in return before meeting him in a soft kiss. His smile against your mouth is blinding, endlessly joyful, and slightly delirious.

He’s still buried inside you a few minutes later, when you finally whisper, “I’m not sure this is what Foggy had in mind when he sent me over here.”

“If this is what Foggy had in mind, I might have to send him a fruit basket, or buy him a round,” Matt chuckles, and you smack him lightly on the shoulder before you’re laughing too. Matt smiles, unable to believe that you’re his, before he cuts your giggling off with a loving kiss.

[subhumanselflover]

hello mar I would like to request a Testament x reader oneshot where the two cuddle on the couch please.

note: hello, coming right up anon! i can very much channel testament into my writing today bc i had a tea party today (well. yesterday as i prepare to actually post this), ehehe :3 also i'm throwing references to testament having a job in this one bc i think it's so funny that they're canonly a construction worker. okay anyway please enjoy!

Testament x Reader, Cuddle-bug.

If there was anything on Testament's mind throughout their day today, it was you. All through their work day, they found themself humming a song that you had showed them a while ago. When you told them that the song had reminded you of them, they fell in love with the rhythm almost as fast as they had fallen in love with you. All they wanted to do was curl up with you in their arms.

So, when the time came that they were able to leave work and come home to you, they quickly made their way to your residence. You had the day off, so you spent a good bit of the day cleaning your space, which left you a tad tired. Keys jingled outside the door, and the sound of the door opening alerted you to Testament's arrival.

As they came to find you, you were swiftly greeted with a gentle embrace and a quick peck on the lips. "Darling of mine, I missed you so." The greeting was so dramatic that it would have sounded insincere from anyone else, but in that loving tone, they truly meant it. You couldn't help but giggle, nonetheless. They had already placed their bags down and slipped their shoes off, and in one of the bags, they had brought home takeout for you both. With knowing that you planned on busying yourself today, they knew that you wouldn't quite feel like cooking tonight, and frankly, neither did they.

"I shall be right back, my dear. Oh, dinner's on the kitchen counter, feel free to eat without me if I take too long," They stated before shuffling off to the bathroom to go take a post-work shower and change into comfortable clothes. You kept yourself occupied as you awaited their return, listening to the flow of water, and the muffled music that they listened to while they showered.

Coming back to the living room in a much more comfortable, yet still elegant-looking outfit, they were surprised to see you hadn't eaten yet. "Dearest, you didn't have to wait for me," They almost seemed to pout as they said this, and it was a little cute to you. A piece of evidence that someone who was once so cold had become so warm. You shrugged, and supposed aloud that you were fine to wait, as long as it was for them.

You ate at the kitchen table, chatting, sharing a meal, taking pieces of each other's meals of choice, talking about each other's days. It was domestic, comfortable..

And now that you both found yourselves comfortably full, you were curled up on the couch together. It had been their turn to pick a movie to watch, so here you were, criticizing a B-movie together. But as the movie's mediocrity proved itself, they wanted to pay more attention to you. The two of you had already been curled up together, with you sitting on Testament's lap, held gently in their arms, their nails tapping against your skin every so often.

Shifting themselves carefully, they pulled you closer, their carefully toned arms wrapped around your waist. Warmth radiated between the two of you, as the movie you were watching slowly turned into a droning sort of background noise. Their was an undeniable calm in this moment, a comfortable silence taking over between you two. There were no words, but there didn’t need to be.

Holding you close to them, Testament moved a hand to run their fingers through your hair, lightly scratching over your scalp. Stopping for a moment, they cupped your face and held it. With not much of a choice, you looked at them, making a curious noise, wondering what this was for.

“You are so, so very precious to me. I love you,” Their tone was laced with genuine affection as they held your face. Leaning in, they gave you a loving little kiss, then patted the side of your face, before pulling you to their chest. You couldn’t help but feel lucky as you shared their warmth, and shared this space with them.

[huggyhughesy]

Lavender Haze

adam fantilli x hughes!sister

lavender haze

a.n. :: this is a short part 1 in the fic!! let me know what you think <3

My life was theoretically falling apart. Well, maybe not my life, that was a tad dramatic. But my mind was.

On a late-night walk around campus – during which I discovered my headphones were dead – my mind began swirling with thoughts that I’d been drying to drown out for months. Noise cancelling headphones tended to help with that.

Those thoughts that currently plagued my mind were distracting me from my current surroundings, which probably wasn’t the safest place to be at eleven o’clock at night. But I had to sit down, there was too much going on inside for me to process.

Like the fact that my life was only now really beginning – and not in the way that you think it does when you get to high school, or apply to college. I was having to make important decisions. But they were already made for me. By me. I’d made these decisions for myself a long time ago, but now, after months of living on my own and beginning to discover myself, I discovered that the things that I used to think I wanted, were things that I really thought people wanted of me. And this realization during my late-night walk was currently sending me into a spiral.  

“Are you okay?”

The male voice made me nearly jump out of the bench seat. I put my hand to my chest, trying to steady my heart rate.

“Oh my God, you scared the shit out of the me.”

The man, who, I won’t lie, was extremely attractive, grinned at me. Even under the dull campus lamp, his smile was bright as can be. He was tall, although him standing and me sitting probably skewed my judgment a little bit.

“Sorry,” he said, still grinning down at me. “Didn’t mean to, just wanted to check and make sure you were okay.”

“I’m okay,” I replied.

This probably wasn’t the best response to give someone who was checking in on your well-being, and my assumption was proven correct when he tilted his head to the side slightly, like he was urging me to explain my current predicament. I didn’t though.

“Can I sit?”

I nodded, and he took a seat next to me. He offered his hand, which I shook with my own. He looked so familiar, especially now that I was seeing him this close up. But I couldn’t exactly place where I’d seen him before. Maybe he was in one of my classes?

“Adam.”

“yn.”

His grin, if possible, got even wider.

“You seem to look very familiar to me, yn. Have we met before?”

After his sentence, it hit me. He was one of Luke’s new teammates. I didn’t get the chance to meet them during the summer, when he invites the team to our house for a couple weeks, but I’d seen plenty of videos and pictures of the team’s summer at our house.

“No, we’ve never met.”

This time though, I smiled at him. Based on the way his grin changed into a smirk, he was in on this charade of pretending that we don’t know each other, even though we were destined to meet in a couple days when the hockey season began.

“Is there any particular reason you’re sitting out here in the dark?”

“Oh, just a slight mid-life crisis. No big deal.”

Adam seemed to think that maybe it actually was a big deal. And it was, but I was never going to admit that to myself.

“Maybe, if you tell someone about your mental breakdown, you’ll feel better about it. I mean, it works for me when I’m freaking out.”

I really didn’t want to tell this guy who I’d never met before about the fact that I was regretting my profession choice. Or that I was about to have a nervous breakdown because after this year, my brother was going to leave, and if I didn’t make any friends freshman year, I wouldn’t have anyone after he leaves. Except for his teammates, but I think they gave me more of a pity friendship.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Adam said, interrupting my spiral. “But I could help you get your mind off of it, if you want to.”

I scrunched my nose, “Ew, no. I don’t want to –”

“That’s not what I meant!” he quickly interjected. “I can provide you with a distraction that doesn’t involve you being with another person. It would require you to leave campus though.”

“Leave campus? How do I know you’re not going to murder me?”

He laughed. Even in my mental state, the laugh did something to me. It sounded so carefree, like everything in his life was going exactly as he had hoped. Although, I suppose it was.

“Do you want to call your brother for reassurance? Or keep pretending like you’ve never met me before?”

Oh. He was confident, too. But I guess I should have expected that, nearly all of my brother’s friends seemed to be way more confident that they should be. I decided to live on the edge for once and play along with his charade.

“How did you know I have a brother?”

I stood, smiling at him. Now I was the one to look down as I spoke to him.

 “As long as we’re not going to a frat, I don’t really care where you take me.”

“How do you feel about Canada?”

[crowfeatherquill]

The Joker is a Shitty Clown

Honestly, this one's just a bit of fun. There's a post floating around somewhere about the Joker getting chased down by a bunch of professional clowns wearing his makeup because he never submitted an egg to the...clown...council (I don't know that it's actually called the clown council). This is semi-related to that.

--

“The Joker is a shitty clown.”

When he says it, the room falls silent. Deathly, even, by some estimates, although those could be classified as a tad dramatic. Jason stares, speechless. Damian does not appear to have noticed that anything is wrong. Tim is the first to speak.

“Do...you want to elaborate on that?”

Dick seems to realize in that moment that the non-sequitur has landed him right at the center of a very dense emotional minefield. He considers that acrobatics run in his family. He considers further that so do unfortunate acrobatic accidents. He chooses his next words carefully.

“I mean first of all he’s not even funny, and that’s, like. Rule one. No clown I ever met had to drug people to get them to laugh at their jokes.”

Realization dawns over Jason’s face like a storm breaking and Tim, diplomatically, chooses not to comment on the way he bites the inside of his cheek to try and fight a smile. He figures it’s fine to let Dick sweat a little over this particular topic -- after all, the Joker is a pretty big sore spot for about half the room, and Dick is not generally so quick to shove his foot all the way down his own throat.

Unsure of his standing and desperate not to lose it, Dick presses on.

“And beyond that, he doesn’t have a gimmick. He doesn’t have a character. There’s no consistency, it’s just...chaos. Which I’ve only seen done well maybe once and to be honest it’s so much extra work and for a beginner, I just- I dunno, it seems like a bad move-”

Jason can’t quite keep back a snort. He tries to cover it with a cough, but Dick knows exactly what the sound means. Jason, smartly, does not attempt eye contact. He prefers to leave the manor on his own terms, and with some of his pride still intact.

“Beginner. Unbelievable…” Tim mutters, but even so he finds himself intrigued. He hadn’t realized Dick had such strong opinions about clowns, although he’s not sure why he’s surprised, given the whole circus-kid thing.

Dick, sensing victory is close at hand, leans forward to deliver what he hopes will be the final blow.

“I’ll bet he doesn’t even know about clown college.”

This is not quite enough to break Jason’s iron will, but it’s a close thing, and Tim affords himself a wry smile. He’s always been the easier of the two of them when it comes to Dick’s antics. 

Dick preens in that self-satisfied big brother way that only he can ever seem to pull off and leans back in his chair.

“Once. Just once I’d like to see that hack do an actual routine.”

“For all his glaring faults, I am forced to concede that the howling menace does appear to have grasped one pillar of the art,” Damian says, primly, looking up from what he’s reading.

Tim raises a questioning eyebrow, and Dick tilts his head, taking on the humor-them expression he wears when he thinks he knows better than his younger siblings. Jason still looks inches away from another untimely death and is therefore ill-equipped to respond in any way that isn’t rigid denial of the near convulsive way his shoulders are shaking.

“Oh? And what’s that, Dami,” Dick prompts, and if he wasn’t so sickenly good-hearted it would almost sound patronizing.

Damian looks at Jason, eyes boring into him like little green needles until Jason meets his gaze. His expression does not change when he speaks.

“Slapstick.”

There is a moment of silence so complete you could hear a pin drop from the other side of the manor. And then Jason is howling with laughter, and Tim can’t help but laugh too because holy shit, and Dick is sitting dumbfounded in his chair, gaping at their youngest brother, who merely gives an imperceptible twitch of the corner of his mouth and returns to his book.

[stinkysam]

Serge “Frenchie” - Hands games.

Warning : drug and alcohol consumption, violence (?)

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : “I was listening to the song "I'm so crazy for you" by Rebzyyx and I was thinking about Frenchie in that context or like in the sense of, Match my Freak. So you could you write a fluffy/angsty bit with Frenchie and male reader being the most unhinged, diabolical couple on the team?” - anon

Reader : gender neutral (you/yours)

A/N : i know so nothing about drugs I didn't even know the short name for cocaine smh, so please, if I'm wrong, close your eyes. Ignore it. See nothing, say nothing.

It's not that they hate you, it's just that they're not particularly excited about working with you two.

You make them uncomfortable by being a tad bit too comfortable around them.

Except Kimiko who seems unfazed by it all, as long as you two are happy, she's fine with anything. And Butcher, who's too tired to properly care.

Hughie tries to be open, only to often find himself smiling awkwardly as you and Frenchie are tongue deep in eachother’s throat, hands wandering everywhere, not caring about the people around.

Kimiko approaches him with a smile, tapping his shoulder before showing him her phone.

“👀 Time to get out 🍆💦🍑” Is written on the screen. Hughie stammer a bit.

“Th- They're doing it here ? Ri- Like right now ?” He asks and she nods, pulling him with her out of the room.

The amount of time Hughie or the others almost saw you or Frenchie naked is astronomical.

When you had to hide at the back of some shop with a group of smugglers doing their thing, you'd leave your makeshift bed and stay in boxers, ignoring Hughie's pleas to put some clothes on even during urgent meetings.

“What are these two still doing naked, eh ?” Butcher asked, stopping his explanations, just noticing the two of you rolling a joint, chatting together in boxers as if you had no worries in the world. You two frowned in confusion.

Naked ?

“It's summer.” You replied simply with a shrug.

“J’ai mes chaussettes. I'm not naked.” Frenchie added, raising his right foot up.

“Yeah me too.” You nodded. “I'm all for walking barefoot blah blah blah but the floor here is so unsanitary. So socks stay on.” You sighed, a bit too focused and upset about the unclean floor.

“So… uh, you said you had a plan ?” Hughie said hesitantly, returning the attention back on Butcher.

You couldn't do that in the new hiding spot. Though it wasn't really hidden as it was the Flatiron Building.

M.M explained what the color of every post-it meant, and which trash cans were for what before insisting on behalf of unnamed people -everyone- that all of you must remain fully clothed, at any time.

That didn't stop you from making out on the desks. Or fucking on the couch when it was just the two of you.

M.M thought it was common decency to not fuck on it. But apparently, he was wrong, and told you two to stop it.

That didn't stop you. But as a precaution he never sat on that couch ever again.

You two had a game. The slightly weird kind.

You'd slap him across his face, gently, and he had to slap you back slightly harder. In return, you'd have to do it back harder as well, and so on and so forth.

You two never went too far, never hurting the other, but you had to admit that sometimes, a slap can leave you a bit shocked.

He had started it. It was barely a slap, but you moved your head to the side dramatically before doing the same to him. Slowly it escalated, both growing more competitive and not wanting to be the last one slapped.

You were waiting, slightly grimacing, bracing yourself for the impact. You bit your lips as you watched Frenchie focus, approaching his hand from your cheek a few times before slapping it a bit stronger than anticipated.

You both gasped, surprised, your cheek tingling and burning as well as his hand. He grabs you and pulls you closer, kissing your reddening cheek.

“I'm so sorry, mon cœur.” He laughed.

“Oh putain.” You turned to him, your eyes burning with revenge as you chuckled. “Alors toi…”

“No, no, no, no, I stop here.” He quickly said, taking a step back. He knew you'd always want revenge, one way or another.

“Oh no, you started it, which means it's my turn, then we end it.” You wiggled your fingers, ready to throw your hand at him.

He began to walk backwards, still facing you. You grabbed his shirt to stop him but he kept pulling back, laughing.

“No, no, no, I'm out.”

“You can't.” You said in a sing-song voice.

“A kiss then !” He tried, his hands joined together in a praying manner. You sighed, thinking about it.

“Okay. A kiss. But I'll get my revenge. Sleep with both eyes open.”

Annie was looking at you with a frown, eyes squinted and mouth slightly agape as she tried to understand why you would play such violent games. At least it ended with a kiss ?

You had tried it with Hughie once but he's so afraid to hurt you that he never slaps too hard.

Kimiko gets really competitive though she's really stressed about hurting you or Frenchie. And M.M didn't even let you explain the rules, he was already saying ‘no’.

You never tried with Butcher, for obvious reasons.

That's also when you gained the habit of slapping each other's ass when passing by. It was cute and simple when it was only that.

But one day, one of you -you- slapped the other -him- a bit harder than usual, sparkling a competition to slap each other's ass harder each time. And now, it was a recurring thing.

Everyone was silent and focused at their respective desk, Butcher was God knows where, Hughie was working with Newman and Annie was at the Vought tower

You stood up to throw your can of beer in the trash. You had the misfortune to pass next to Frenchie’s desk.

His hand went behind him to then slap your ass as hard as he could.

“Ah !” You jumped as you both gasped loudly.

“What the fuck !” You turned around, looking at him with wide eyes. “I could've dropped my can !”

“I think I felt your ass bones !” He said, shaking his hand, grimacing. “Ah, sa mère.”

“Et toi, tu m'as explosé le cul !” You hissed,

“Titre.” He said with a smile, still holding his stinging hand. You grimaced at him before walking away, raising your middle finger at him.

M.M tried to ignore you two, focusing on sorting his papers. Still, a disapproving sigh left his lips.

“They're in love 🥰” Kimiko typed on her phone to show him, who looked at you two, flipping each other repeatedly, then back at her before rolling his eyes. Kimiko typed quickly again on her phone.

“Weren't you and Monique like that ?”

M.M scoffed.

“Why-” He started, before lowering his voice. “Why would I ever slap Monique's ass like that ?” Hoping you two wouldn't hear.

Tough luck, you both heard.

“Because she has a nice ass ?” You and Frenchie said in unisson.

“We're civilized adults.” He replied, focusing back on his papers.

“She has a flat ass.” You said quietly with a sad face, pouting, your index sliding on your cheek to imitate a single tear falling.

“You don't wanna go down that path.” M.M said very seriously, warning you.

“I was joking. I'm sure she has a nice ass.”

“[Name].”

You nodded, understanding his last warning before throwing the can in the trash and returning back to your desk, passing by Frenchie's who raised his hand once more. You jumped to the side, hands in front of you in defense.

“No, don't you dare ! That's my turn !” You whispers-yelled.

“You're passing by, that's the rule mon cœur.” He shook his head, and stood up.

“Jeux de mains, jeux de vilains !” You quickly said as you darted away, Frenchie close behind you.

“Bunch of teenagers…” M.M whispered, shaking his head.

That's when Butcher entered the room, you and Frenchie immediately stopped running to turn around and walk back to your desks, trying not to laugh. You profited being behind him to slap his ass with all your strength.

The sound of the slapping was quickly followed by Frenchie's gasp, trying to stay discret, hands on his ass as he cursed at you quietly.

“Putain de…” He turned around pointing at you menacingly. He'll get you back. You sent him a flying kiss.

Butcher closed his eyes, he was already tired of your shit and it hasn't even been 5 seconds.

As much as you love Frenchie, and him you, you two bring out the worst habits of each other.

You both claim one of you is always sober or clean to look after the one who isn't.

Which is totally false.

It's just that one if you will pretend -badly- to not be stoned or drunk.

Both shushing each other loudly and giggling at a team meeting to form a serious last minute plan while you're drunk off your ass and Frenchie so high he sees cartoon characters version of you.

Hughie had to pull you apart to calm you two so Butcher doesn't commit a crime. But even then you're both signing -partially nonsense- to each other before slowly turning it into a mime game. Yeah, they're not going to get anything from you two today.

You really can't listen to orders when you're together, you're like two teenagers, it's horrible. Which can often put you two in danger at times.

You realize it when sober. How close you were from death and how bad your habits are. How irresponsible you can both act.

Multiple times you tried to stop drinking or doing hard and soft drugs.

But you always failed, unable to say ‘no’ to another drink at any minor inconvenience or ‘no’ to Frenchie when he went for a joint or some crack.

Kimiko tries to help, but she can't do anything when you aren't with her and she can't really help unless you really want her to, but you're not at that stage yet.

She fears one of you, if not the two of you will become a slave to these bad habits that are taking a lot of your life already.

She wrote to you two about it and neither of you knew what to answer. You knew she was right, you didn't know how to stop, when to draw the line, and being with the boys sure didn't help.

Traduction - Translation :

J'ai mes chaussettes. - I have my socks.

Oh, putain. - Oh, fuck.

Alors toi… - You…

Ah, sa mère. - Ah, motherfucker.

Et toi, tu m’as explosé le cul ! - And you, you've exploded my ass.

Titre. - Title (a that's what she said joke / title of my sextape)

Jeux de mains, jeux de vilains. - Hands games, nasty games.

Putain de… - Fucking…

[starfleetshrimps]

i love star trek bc it's actually a high school theater production most of the time. We focus a lot on the over-acting, theatricality of the actors and the directors, and that's all well and amazing, but /I/ want to focus on the /TECH/ bc ASHAijnjsdnbhgaARREghghhuuagjkshdmhbAHJBSSHJHIEJBnkjsdjhbsdhjBmahbsjshsbHkjnswkjshsn yea.

FIRST THE SETS?!? they're so silly and stupid? i know they get a lot of shit but the amount of work (not to mention styrofoam) that went into building individual sets for each planet they went to? like sure about 50% of the away missions take place in the california desert (the arena, *cough cough*, etc) but the rest of them have individually made sets that look PRETTY GOOD MAN. they get the point across, they're FUN, and innovative, and they really don't reuse planet sets all that often as well.

PLUS they used traditionally /theatrical/ cycloramas with painted backgrounds and classical cyc lighting (reminiscent of mariano fortuny's domed cyc! i WILL talk more about lighting) which look really cool and once again get shit for being unrealistic.

it's not supposed to look realistic it's supposed to look cool as shit. and it does. shut up. <3

if you view the sets as being modern TV sets then yeah, they're weird, and they look sorta bad, but THEYRE NOT modern TV sets: they're THEATRICAL SETS FROM THE 60-70S. AND I LOVE THEM.

SECONDLY, THE

lighting

while it's true that some shows in the 60s were developing new lighting styles specifically for TV, remember that in the year 1950 less that 10 percent of US homes had a television. this shit was new. COLOR tv was ESPECIALLY new. nobody knew how to light these things! and actually why would you need a new lighting style, we already KNEW how to light dramatic productions, why would we ever need to reinvent the wheel Stanley Mccandles, Mariano Fortuny, and Gene Rosenthall already invented says Gene Roddenberry and Jerry Finnerman (the head lighting designer). and oh my god i am so ridiculously glad. because the lighting. is so good.

i HAVE seen others talking about how good it is in the super early episodes (Charlie X and the conscious of the King, etc.) and i do agree! but i disagree that the quality goes down. i think it just got a tad bit more subtle as the show went on and it gets less in your face, harder to notice. but i noticed. because I'M the WORST (and also a lighting tech)

the impossibility of listing every example of amazing theater lighting choice they made is absolutely horrific and nasty so i'll just lost some my my favorites:

the cyc! i mentioned before but the cyc they used on away missions was only painted when they needed a specific scene in the background, otherwise? that bitch was LIT. and i LOVE IT.

any of the scenes where they light spock's face have green and half pink? or even just washing the walls behind him? i eat that shit UP. the METAPHOR. the CONFLICT. i will acquiesce that green and pink are (and were) pretty goddamn industry standard gels (color-films) to add to lights, for subtle contrast, but this is not subtle. it is LOUD. was it purposefully done from a storytelling perspective? no idea. is it cool as shit and interpret-able as hell? absolutely. also sometimes they do it with just green when they want to emphasize his vulcan-ness and other him a bit. like they do it a lot when he's in his room in amok time. anyway.

whenever they shutter a light so they can emphasize a character's (kirk, we're talking abt kirk here. and *sometimes* spock, and also Charlie in Charlie X but yeah mostly kirk) eyes when they say something #Deep, or just pre-commercial break closure worthy line. it's so SHJSDJBFEJNKN. to add onto this, they'll do a striking half-wash over half of their face sometimes in conjunction and it looks So Good

The GOBOS. sometimes, they'll just throw light through a gobo, or wall screen, or something, for /visual interest/ and it looks so silly i love it sm. does it make sense from a realism pov? nO. but star trek is a theater production actually and they lit everything using mainly naturalistic techniques! amazing!

honorable mentions: the glowing time donut, and the entirely random colors in the hallway.

there are so many other examples but this post is long enough lmao. notice the lights next time you watch tos!!,! please!!! <3

[lovelyfirebouquet]

Okay, so. I had this really cute idea that player/MC/(Y/N) is playing GoGM and Jack gets jealous. After all, why play a game about a ghost when his sunshine has a perfect loving ghost right here? Spicy implications but nothing directly explicit. Short (~1030 words) because I’m just getting back into writing and stretching the creative muscles. Criticism and feedback are welcome!

The Groom of Gallagher Mansion and Something’s Wrong with Sunny Day Jack are both 18+ games, minors DNI! Thank you!

--- Leg bouncing excitedly, I adjust my headphones over my ears and grin at the familiar music. Both spooky and jovial, I hum along as I admire the tattered blue wallpaper on the game’s title screen, decorated with roses. The momentary blackness as I begin a new game seems far too long. Taking a gulp from the water bottle Jack had so kindly left on my desk earlier, I let out a tiny, excited cheer and began clicking through dialogue.   Having just recently added voice acting with the new update, I’ve been eager to play all week. Listening along, one line causes me to chuckle.  ‘G-g-g-ghost clown?! No!’ ‘Poor Taylor would be screwed knowing me, poor guy.’  I think to myself, lifting one side of my headphones. The sound of splashing and happy humming from the kitchen told me Jack was still doing dishes, so I fixed the device back on my ear and smiled. ‘Thankfully, my ghost clown isn’t too scary.’  Moving through the familiar dialogue, my character begins their performance and I can’t help but follow suit, dramatically laying the back of my hand to my forehead. “Alas, my poor aching heart!” I grin, leaning back with a theatrical flourish. Before I can give my next line, I hear Jack’s heavy footsteps approach. “Sunshine?” He leans against the doorway, broad shoulders on display in his normal white shirt, his jacket presumably left somewhere in the kitchen. “What are you doing?” “Oh, well,” I pause a moment, a tad embarrassed, “I’m playing a game, actually. Did I disturb you?” “No, of course not.” He flashes his signature grin, slipping his gloves back on as he comes to stand beside my chair, glancing down at the screen curiously. “What kind of game?” “Well..” I’ve explained a fair bit of modern technology to Jack in the months we’ve known each other but disclosing the idea of a romance game still seemed somewhat embarrassing. “It’s a… romantic visual novel, which is just as it says. It kind of acts as a choose your own adventure book, with added sounds and visuals.” He nods along and listens intently, though he raises a brow at the mention of romance. “So, what’s this game about then?” At that I grin, nerd brain taking over as I click idly. “It’s about you and your college friend, Taylor, summoning a ghost in a spooky cursed manor. You make choices to see who you end up with, but I always choose Elias.” Coming to the beginning of Elias’ dialogue, I unplug my headphones and raise the volume, smiling as the familiar line echoes from the speakers. “Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains the stony entrance of this sepulcher?” I mouth along with the words and click through, watching Elias’ ghostly sprite fade into view. As I glance back at Jack he wears an odd expression, furrowed brows and pursed lips forming a slight pout as he stares at the screen. “Jack? What’s wrong?” I return the game’s audio to its normal level and spin my chair to look at him fully. He studies me a moment, warm brown eyes reflecting unknown emotions. Before I have time to process, he grabs my hand and presses a warm kiss to my knuckles. Immediately my face turns a bright shade of red, heat emanating from my ears as I stutter. “I- you… Why?” Smiling lovingly, he lowers my hand and brings his gloved one to my cheek, brushing his thumb against it. He brings his face closer, pressing his forehead against mine. “Why play a game when I’m right here, Sunshine? Fantasies can be fun, but too much can be bad for you.” His hot breath fans across my face, blue hair tickling my cheek. His body is so warm looming over me. “Maybe you should take a break?~” He hums, tilting my chin upward slowly, taking a single breath to examine my flustered state before pressing his lips to mine. All at once soft and sweet and intoxicating, I find myself leaning into him, reaching upward to hold his hand on my cheek and wrap my arm around his neck. Locked together like this, we kiss until my lungs begin to burn, aching for breath. I pull back first, taking a great gasping breath as I recover. Looking up at him, his cheeks are dusted a light red and his breathing is more ragged than before. My face burns like hot coals as he looks at me, purest love mixed with building desire reflected in his eyes. “(Y/N)?” His tone is sweet, and yet it sends a shiver down my spine. “Yes?” He grasps my forearm gently, pulling me from my seat and carefully guiding me to the bed. My heartbeat thumps like distant thunder as he nudges me, motioning to lay upright against the pillows. Within a moment he straddles me, his arms acting as a heavily muscled cage. Leaning down to my neck, he plants a knowing kiss, murmuring into my skin. “I love you.” I gasp at the sensation, craning my neck unconsciously. “I love you, Jack.” With those words he melts into my arms, peppering me with kisses and divine praises. Our bedroom is filled with laughter as I am enveloped in a warm embrace, arms and legs cocooned under his hold. A sunny grin takes over his features as I weakly wiggle, seemingly proud of his capture. “Good.” He chuckles, leaning down to peck my cheek. Rubbing my arm lovingly, I notice his expression shift subtly as he glances back to the computer, still softly looping the game’s background music. “You know… I’d love to show you just how I feel,” he sighs, running his hands over my sides and gently teasing my inner thigh, “but if you’re busy…” I groan, looking back toward my desk and the sprite of Elias waiting patiently on the screen. Looking back at Jack, acknowledging my own arousal, I make up my mind. “I guess it can wait a liiiiiittle longer.” Jack got off the bed, quickly powering down the computer and fixing the desk chair before returning to his perfect, waiting sunshine. He’d make sure to delete that game later.

[capybaraonabicycle]

Omg I will of course leave the final fic choice up to you, but doesn't "True hate’s kiss (only kissing your enemy can break a curse)" sound like the perfect setup to a Twissy fic 👀

Thank you, love!

~1.5 k words, so much for "let me just write 5 sentences for you real quick". But it's, of course, because you are right, this prompt was made for twissy 🥰

I have not actually read this again, so beware. But here you go :)

[ID: gif of Missy's face in close up, smiling down like she is pitying someone mockingly. end ID]

“Can't you move a bit faster?”

If silly little companion pulled on her sleeve any more roughly, he was going to lose that new hand of his. Or maybe his nose, she wasn't really picky. The nose might taste better, Missy mused. She was quite sure it was the original one and not some cyborg-technology the Doctor had partly scavenged, partly cooked up himself. But that reasoning implied she had paid attention to the egg-head's babblings and she had a general policy never to do that.

It was lucky, comic relief had paid closer attention to her, however, because she didn't even need to voice her threat. Breathing out her nose audibly and baring her teeth sufficed easily and he squeaked, jumped, dropped her hand and hurried on a few inches further away from her.

“I am a time lady, snickerdoodle” she drawled, making a point of walking a tad more measuredly instead of hurrying up. “I always walk at the exact right speed.”

The Doctor's snack had the audacity to huff but he wisely chose not to talk back.

“It- it is just” he stuttered instead, “the Doctor, he is -”

“-dying?” she finished, already bored. “That's his usual Thursday, pup.”

“He asked for you!” the idiot-in-training blurted out and despite herself, Missy stopped and blinked.

“He did?” Now that were exciting news for a change. A bright smile grew on her face, simultaneously with the rising panic in plucky assistant's eyes.

“He said you could save him” he whispered, somehow managing to have his voice creak when he wasn't even properly using it.

“He did?” Missy repeated and by now her smile was positively giddy. Eggy started whimpering softly.

Missy didn't give him time to gather his bearings, instead grabbing his arm forcefully in turn, making him jump again. She brought her face close to his for good measure, revelling at the terror in his expression.

“Why. Didn't. You. Say. So. Immediately?” she asked, her voice stuck on the same note throughout the words, too high, too cheerful to be anything but disconcerting. “Hurry up, pet: I've got a day to save!”

He shuddered away from her and picked up the pace again, not looking back. But this time she was right there with him, excitement surging through her veins. The Doctor was in actual danger, helpless, pathetic and he had asked for her. Because he loved her. Because he needed her. And – most importantly – she would get to gloat. Once she had saved him. Which she obviously would. No matter what idiotic thing he had done, her silly sausage, she would get him up and running in no-time. She was his best friend, after all. His very best friend.

They reached the Doctor's office only a few minutes later, and Missy immediately noticed how serious the situation was. The psychic waves coming from him were all over the place – and not in the fun, chaotic way they usually were – they usually were a lot subtler as well, some things he had learnt in his thousand years of spacetravel – they were hurtful almost, full of pain and distress. She knew he was lying on the ground before she saw him, knew he was still conscious, too, even though his other little munch was convinced of the opposite. Missy paid her little mind how she was sitting on the floor with him, crying and mumbling affirmations. She only got in the way, really, with the way she was cradling the Doctor's head in her lap, she couldn't help him after all.

“I am here, oh, apple of my eye” Missy exclaimed dramatically, dropping to the floor at his side with great flourish.

“I don't, I don't think, he can hear you” girl-companion hiccuped through her tears, but Missy waved her interjection away.

“Of course he can, silly-billy” she huffed, reaching for the Doctor's hand that had come to lie on his stomach. She pressed it to her chest, holding on tightly.

“I am here” she whispered. “Tell me, Doctor, what do you need?”

Oh, she liked playing the hero. Being the one who held the Doctor's life in their hands. Being the one everyone looked at with those worshippy, wide eyes. She thought, right now, she could fathom why he had gotten addicted to it.

“We think he got cursed” supplementary fuss said behind her back. “We were on Tigella, and there was this sceptre. The Doctor touched -”

The last of the words died in his throat when Missy whirled around to him.

“Do you know what you're talking about?” she asked sweetly, but didn't give him a chance to answer. “No, you don't. So shut up before I change my mind and make a nice soup out of the three of you instead of helping. - okay?”

She fluttered her eyelids to emphasize the point and his mouth snapped shot, his jaw tightening.

“Thank you, much appreciated.” Missy turned towards the Doctor again, nearing her ear to his mouth. “Doctor, what do you need?”

“I need -” he rasped and french-fries-friendywend gasped when she heard him speak, almost making Missy miss his next words. Did these bumbling humans ever learn? “- a kiss. From – my worst enemy.”

“Awww” Missy bit her lip, drawing back. He needed his arch-enemy! And he had thought of her. “How very touching! I am so honoured, I am not even gonna bargain.”

He didn't answer or open his eyes, but there was a pleased twitch around his mouth that made her press his hand.

“I have to say though, Doctor,” she purred, leaning in again, “if you wanted for me to kiss you, there would have been easier ways to ask than going through the trouble of getting cursed.”

Now he snorted and measured by the state he was in, this tiny bit of banter was the greatest love confessions out of all the ones he had bestowed upon her today already.

“Come on, now - “ he coughed, “Missy. You would – have never – been content with – any – thing less – elaborate.”

“True” she smirked. She was hovering right above him now. “And I appreciate the effort, darling.”

His lips moved, searching hers, and she waited just another second, savouring the moment. Then human-thingy coughed pointedly and she drew it out yet another second, simply to antagonise her. But his breath was getting visibly shallower and there was a slight tremble in his hand. Plus, his lips looked chapped like burnt Earth and just as inviting. So, finally, she led their mouths together, her hand slipping across the extra's leg to support his head.

The moment their lips touched, it was like the life flooded back into him, his mouth's movement becoming more purposeful and his tongue meeting hers cordially when she slipped it past his teeth. His free hand even twitched, like he was trying to grasp her frock.

Of their own accord, Missy's eyes closed and for a moment she lost herself in the feeling of their lips meeting, the familiar taste of his tongue, the desperate way his breath fanned her chin and cheek, reminiscent of many breathless nights spent together, oh so long ago.

But then, his movement slowed, a distressed sound escaping his throat. Before Missy could decide whether to draw back – finally killing the Doctor by kissing him to death would have been an end she could have deemed worthy of their friendship – a rough hand was on her shoulder, pulling her away from him. She hissed and whirled around, biting hard into the offending limp. So, the sniveller had decided he didn't need this body part, after all, it seemed.

He cried out, pulling his hand away from her mouth with a pathetic whine. Missy spat out some blood and fake skin with a huff. It tasted as horribly as she had expected.

“What did you do that for?” he sobbed.

“Don't touch me, crybaby” she huffed, turning back around to the Doctor.

He was still lying motionless, if possible even paler now.

“Why didn't this work?” his pillow croaked, close to tears again. Missy drew her eyebrows together in agreement. Indeed. Why hadn't it? It should have worked, she had been supposed to save the day!

For some reason, the Doctor was smiling. Mind, it was barely visible, frail as he was, but Missy could read his face like a book in every incarnation and that so was his satisfied smile.

“Seems like,” he mumbled, “we aren't – strictly – enemies anymore, love.”

“Of course, we are, don't be stupid” she pressed out. Only now she noticed how desperately she was clutching his hand, it was almost like she was trying to imitate spare-parts over at the door who was licking his own injured paw.

“Don't smile” she told the Doctor off, and she was sounding more serious than she had any right to be. “You are dying and I am your enemy. You don't get to smile at that.”

She was sure, if he had had any strength left, his smile would have grown now.

“I am – sorry, Missy” he breathed instead, “but I must – ask you – to fetch – Da – Davros.”

Missy felt her mouth drop open in shock and humiliation. Davros? Fucking Davros got to save her Doctor??

This was rock bottom.

Thank you for reading, I hope it is about what you envisioned <3

[chiriwritesstuff]

Meet Me at the Farmers Market! 2. - Wager

Farmers Market! Joel Miller x Confident! Plus Sized F! Florist Reader

Previous Chapter │ Series Masterlist

Series Summary: What does a Contractor do in his spare time? Sell his wood carvings at the Saturday Farmers Market, of course! A Grumpy x Sunshine Joel Miller series collective of one shots, Updates every Saturday!

Rating: M

Warnings: Jealous! Joel Miller, Tommy is a meddling little shit, Reader likes to ogle her too-hot market neighbor (I mean, who wouldn't?!) no outbreak! Verse Joel Miller, Friendly wagers between vendors

Summary: When it's a slow day at the market, Tommy suggests a wager between Joel and Sunflower. Which of our two idiots makes a move first?

A/N: Another day in the life of Joel and Sunflower a few days early? YES PLEASE! Hope y'all enjoy!

This story takes place before the events of Pt. 1 - Jealousy, Jealousy.

Banner & Dividers by @saradika

"It's been real quiet today. How are you holding up, Miller?" you ask, your voice laced with genuine concern.

"Not great," he grumbles, his frustration almost tangible.

You gaze at your table of carefully arranged flowers, a hint of disappointment flickering across your face. "I was hoping to have sold at least half of these by now," you admit, absently tweaking a vase.

A scoff echoes from across the way. "That's a tad optimistic," he teases with a playful smirk.

You shoot back with a playful glare, your eyes twinkling mischievously. "Oh, like you're doing any better, Miller. I don't see your woodland critters flying off your table this morning."

Joel grumbles, a hint of self-deprecation in his voice. "Well, they do eventually find their way home," he drawls, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. "Today's just not our lucky day, that's all."

You can't help but laugh, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Right, keep telling yourself that, Miller. Maybe the critters need a bit more of your southern charm today."

"Right, it's not like you use your…" he gives you a pointed look, "assets to give you a leg up in sales," he replies, a playful glint in his eye. "I haven't seen someone wink so damn much at the farmers' market."

You roll your eyes dramatically, unable to suppress a teasing grin. "Oh, please, Miller. A little charm never hurt anyone. Besides, a wink here and there adds some flair to the whole flower-selling business. You should try it sometime."

He lets out a mock sigh, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "I'll leave the winking to you, flower whisperer. Maybe those woodland critters need a secret handshake."

You both share a laugh, the tension from the slow day momentarily forgotten as the playful banter lightens the mood in the market.

"Well, well, well," Tommy suddenly interjects, breaking through the tension as he puts his arm around your shoulders, casting a mischievous grin at his brother. "Seems like today's been a bit lackluster, huh? Sunflower's table barely made a dent, and she would have been mostly sold out by now."

You playfully nudge Tommy, a smile tugging at your lips. "Easy there, Tommy. We're all feeling the slow vibes today, aren't we?"

Joel grumbles in agreement, a hint of grumpiness in his voice. "Yeah, it's been unusually quiet. Even the critters seem to be taking a snooze on the job."

Tommy's eyes light up with an idea. "I've got it! How about a little friendly competition? A wager on who can sell out first—Sunflower's beautiful blooms or Joel's charming critters. Winner gets bragging rights and a week of free lattes on the loser!"

You exchange a knowing glance with Joel, a competitive spirit rising within you. "You're on, Tommy. Get ready to be buying those lattes," you declare, a playful determination in your voice.

Joel grumbles, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You better start practicing your sales pitch, Sunflower. Those lattes are going to be mine."

As the challenge intensifies, you notice Joel maintaining his grumpy demeanor, even as he turns on his charm with the ladies passing by. A pang of jealousy tugs at your heart, but you can't help but find his attitude endearing.

Joel grumbles at Tommy's playful antics, shooting a grumpy glare at his brother. He then turns his attention back to you, a hint of mischief in his voice. "Seems like you're getting quite cozy with my brother there, Sunflower. I might have to step up my game."

You feel a blush rising to your cheeks as you retort, "Oh please, Joel. You're the one who can't resist winking at every customer. I think you're just worried your charm might not work on everyone."

The banter continues as the friendly competition fuels a vibrant energy in the market, drawing more attention to both your stalls.

Joel grumbles playfully, a glint of competitiveness flickering in his eyes. However, as the day goes on, it becomes increasingly clear that Joel is not trying as hard as he could be. He finds himself unable to maintain his grumpy facade, particularly as he admires your dedication and passion. A sense of warmth grows inside him despite his best efforts.

As the afternoon sun begins to dip, your table starts to see more traffic, with customers drawn in by your infectious enthusiasm. Joel, on the other hand, has only managed to sell a few of his critters.

With a knowing smile, Joel arranges his remaining critters with a touch of playful annoyance, giving you an opportunity to shine. As the market comes to a close, you find your table nearly empty, a clear victory in sight.

"Congratulations, Sunflower. Looks like you've won," Joel says, offering you a genuine smile. "You deserve it. Seems like your… assets,” he motions to your unbuttoned flannel, a tease of your cleavage peeking out, you thank the stars god decided to bless you with your curves, “Really worked in your favor," he teases as he openly looks at your chest, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

You feel a rush of joy and relief, realizing Joel's subtle gesture. "Thank you, Joel. Your critters are amazing too, you know. We make quite the team, don't we?"

As the market comes to a close, the two of you share a quiet moment, the lingering warmth in Joel's gaze making your heart flutter with newfound hope. You notice a subtle shift in Joel's demeanor, as if he's holding onto something unsaid.

With a playful smile, you begin to pack up your remaining flowers, unable to shake off the feeling that Joel had been taking it easy on you. As you glance over at him, you raise an eyebrow and ask, "So, Joel, feeling generous today or just letting the lady have her moment of glory?"

Joel lets out a grumpy chuckle, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Well, Sunflower, a gentleman always knows when to let a lady shine. It's all in the spirit of chivalry, you see."

You feign a dramatic gasp, a playful glint in your eyes. "Oh, chivalry, huh? Well, I'll have you know, I'm not one to shy away from a fair competition. Next time, you won't be so lucky!"

Joel grins, a teasing glimmer in his gaze. "I'll be ready for you, Sunflower. No more Mr. Nice Guy. You'll have to earn that victory fair and square, just you wait."

You chuckle, a newfound lightness filling the air between you. "Oh, I'll be ready, Joel. And when I win, I expect you to be the one buying those celebratory lattes. Deal?"

Joel's grumpy laughter joins yours, the sound of it carrying a newfound sense of camaraderie and something more. "You've got yourself a deal, Sunflower. But don't be too confident. I might surprise you yet."

As the two of you pack up your stalls and the market starts to empty, Joel approaches you, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Say, Sunflower, how about we celebrate your victory with a dinner at the barbecue joint in town? My treat, of course."

You can't help but grin at his invitation, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of spending more time with him. "I'd love that, Joel. It'll be the perfect way to end this eventful day."

With a nod and a wider smile, Joel tips his hat and heads off to fetch his truck, leaving you with a fluttering heart and anticipation for the evening ahead.

[stevebabey]

Congrats on da followers dearest!!! How about a blurb? “I wouldn’t wanna fight you. You’re pretty feisty.” with you know who ;) tbh that entire 45 OTP list gives me bf Steve vibes, very well selected babe 😌

sanne honey thank u!!! i make keith such a villain lmao but plots gotta plot yanno - hope u love this, mwah mwah MWAH <33

You think, if you could, you might genuinely feed Keith to a demogorgan for all the nastiness he gives your boyfriend.

It’s disheartening to watch Steve leave the house in the morning, chest puffed out and smiles easy as you kiss him goodbye before you depart yourself — only for him to come back to you deflated, shoulders slumped and a smile nowhere in sight.

Steve comes to yours today, like you’d both agreed. He lets himself in the door and trudges up the stairs with such heavy feet you hear him coming despite your loud music. Reaching out, you swivel the dial on the radio. The music lowers, just as Steve knocks lightly on your bedroom door.

He’s sweet. You’re expecting him, but he’ll still knock.

“Come in if you’re handsome!” You call out, already beginning to smile, just ‘cos he’s here.

The door nudges open slowly. It’s a pitiful sight. Steve’s always been a pouter. His bottom lip is jutted out, clearly looking for sympathy. It’s good thing you adore coddling him.

Steve seems to perk up just a tad at the sight of you, stretched out on the bed, with a book between your hands. He beelines for it. When his legs reach the edge, he folds easily and flops onto the mattress facedown, then groans.

“Oh, Stevie,” you sigh, ditching your book in an instant. You reach out and card your fingers through his shaggy hair. It needs a cut, you think absentmindedly, as you comb through it. You wonder if he’ll let you— it’s an awful lot of trust.

You hold your tongue but he doesn’t speak up, which raises an alert within you. When there’s no long-winded bitch that he’s been holding in all day, you know it must’ve been rough today.

“Keith again?”

“Yeah.” The word is muffled against your comforter, all quiet. You barely hear it.

“Want me to fight him?” You ask, maybe only half joking. Fingers soothe along his scalp again, halting slightly when he digs his face out and turns it to see you. His cheek smushes against your sheets. His eyes are already brighter, the beginnings of a smile twitching at the ends of his mouth.

“Uh huh.” He says.

You mistake his genuineness for teasing and narrow your eyes, your hand in his hair stopping its movements all together. Steve lets out a grumble and his pout returns.

“You don’t think I could?” You raise your brows, voice light but enthused. “I would so win that fight. I can’t believe you don’t think I’d win that fight!”

Your distraction works wonders as Steve’s head pops up, amusement dancing on his features as he bats a hand to interrupt your spiel. “I didn’t say that!” He insists.

He props himself up on an elbow and blows a piece of stray hair back from his eyes. All signs of his dreariness begin to melt away the longer he’s with you.

“Even I wouldn’t wanna fight you,” He counters with a proud smile.

“You’re pretty fiesty.” He punctuates his words with a light jab to your ribs suddenly, making you yelp. You smack away his hand lightly but Steve’s already twisting it, covering your hand with his own, and tugging it towards him before you can blink.

“You vs. Keith? No-brainer.” He assures earnestly, grazing a kiss against your fingers. Damn him, he’s good. More than anything, you’re pleased that he’s feeling better. The better the mood Steve is in, the more kisses you seem to get. It’s a rule of thumb.

“Yeah, yeah, thank you,” You continue, still voicing the dramatic tone. “I’d just wave a bottle of shampoo in his direction and he’d just disintegrate entirely.”

You feel Steve’s breath against your fingers as he laughs, curling his grip a bit tighter. He pulls, urging you closer and you are in no mood to deny him. Wiggling over, you get close enough to feel the warmth emanating from him, to smell the musk of his cologne. Faintly, you can pick out your own shampoo scent. Little thief, you think to yourself lovingly.

His arms slither around you, warm and tan, and you hum happily at the closeness, letting him bundle you up. You press a quick kiss to his jaw, the easiest access but Steve chases your lips til he captures them. It’s sweet as syrup and gentle enough that you crave another — and another, and another. The radio plays love songs as you let him come home to you through a matter of touch.

join the celebration!