#A-F🥀

[deathdetermineslife]

"I don't want ppl to think I'm cringe—" NO. you go draw yourself smooching that fictional character RIGHT NOW. they LOVE YOU. be FREE. you have an entire community of ppl who support you, now shoo, go write that drabble!

[liilacwine]

stimming by holding his face in my hands and tracing his eyebrows and his cheekbones and his jawline

stimming by pressing my face against his, or against his hair or his hands

stimming by following the paths of bones and veins in his arms with my fingers and eyes

[mourambles]

Fall F/o Reblog Game!!

Reblog this w/ a pic of your f/o (and you/your s/i too if you want!!) and I'll give you a fall activity to do together!!

edit: so many of these are halloween themed lol- im sorry

Ex: Hellboy and I are gonna bake pumpkin roll cakes!! (two bc bro could deffo finish a whole cake himself 💀)

[oc-fo-self-indulgence]

your F/O(s) would absolutely love you even with all your faults, struggles, issues, even traumas, that make you feel completely and entirely unlovable.

they love you; not only do they love you, but they actively try to help you heal and move past these things.

your F/O(s) love you, you mean more than the whole entire universe to them <3

[moonlight-prose]

For your Sinful Soiree, could I possibly request "you're hot when you talk back" from the 1st prompt list, with Joel Miller (because I'm a basic bitch) but maybe with the reader saying it to Joel? ♥️

MORE AND MORE

a/n: i really went off with this one babes. it was supposed to be filthy and short, but i somehow turned it into a fic about being loved entirely and loving each part of a person. i still made it filthy because you can't have smut without angst. right? i hope you enjoy it!

summary: "he wanted to know every part of you, everything you kept hidden for fear of it being rejected. and you let him."

word count: 1.1k+

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, oral (m receiving), mentions of violence, angst, cumplay/cumeating, spit play sort of, joel being cocky, the kinkiness of loving someone's dark parts.

He snapped in the middle of the bar. His hands curling into fists, eyes blazing with a fire that usually came as he held his rifle, the barrel pointed at imminent danger. It burned in his chest, spreading to the very tips of his fingers. Until his vision flared red and he could taste copper in the back of his throat.

It was a fire that only came when he had to protect what he loved—what he couldn’t lose. You’d grown to know it well. Falling in love with the hidden craving he tried to hide beneath the surface—the darkness that lurked beneath.

Except this time the danger came in the form of a man. Drunk and stupid, but still brave enough to challenge the man who could easily take him down. The man who was five seconds away from letting his fist fly through the air until blood stained his skin. But that was the thing about the two of you. When it came to situations like this, you would have let him.

One glance at Tommy standing on the sidelines let Joel know there was no place for violence in the bar. And the snowfall outside was too much of a hindrance to take the fight somewhere else. So Joel snapped. Told the man to shove his comments up his drunken ass or Joel would help him sober up. The gleam in his eyes and the lilt of his tone was all that the other man needed to back off and sulk in the corner.

Giving you a chance to drag Joel home. 

Per the request of Tommy.

Although if you were being honest with yourself, (which you hardly were at a time like this) you dragged Joel home for a different reason altogether. The same reason that you were now willingly scraping your knees on the shitty rug beside your bed. Joel’s voice a breathy rumble of praises and half mumbled comments about how gorgeous you were.

His fingers dug into the back of your neck, cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of red, and eyes fixed on the sight of your lips spread around his cock.

“What…ah, fuck sugar your mouth is heaven.” You felt the urge to grin overcome you, but chose instead to press your tongue against the vein that ran on the underside of his cock. “What brought this on?”

Spit trailed down your chin as you raised your head—knowing for certain that you looked like an utter mess. But that didn’t stop him from running his thumb across your bottom lip. Spreading the mixture of your spit and his precum along your cheek—watching in rapture as it shone against your skin.

You shrugged, a grin playing at the corner of your lips. You knew he had an idea about it five seconds into his pants being pulled down. He just needed confirmation that it was true. Your refusal to look at him did just that—causing his own lips to pull into a smirk. A sight that had you pressing your thighs together desperate for some friction.

“So that did it for you huh?”

The cockiness in his demeanor nearly undid you. Heat spread through your cheeks and down to your chest as he continued to watch you. Peeling back another layer in your psyche and yanking it forward before it had time to sink into the darkness. He wanted to know every part of you, everything you kept hidden for fear of it being rejected.

And you let him. Because deep down you knew he wouldn’t turn it away. He’d cherish them, allow them to thrive in his presence. Just as you did with the darkness he hid away from the rest of the world.

Glancing up, you caught the sincere glimmer in his brown eyes. A look that had you melting into his touch, practically preening as he continued to make a mess against your cheek.

“You’re hot when you talk back,” you said softly, as if you were nervous.

He merely smiled, his tongue peeking out to slide against his bottom lip. “You like when I’m like that?”

He didn’t say it explicitly, but you knew what he meant. When he lost his cool, letting a little bit of the Joel that existed before you seep in. The Joel he continued to hide. You wanted to explain that you loved him regardless; you wanted him every way he would give himself to you. But words wouldn’t do your feelings justice anyway.

“I love all of you,” you breathed, leaning into his touch, your hand stroking him slowly—keeping him hurtling towards a release he tried to stave off.

It’s when your lips wrapped around his cock again, pushing yourself until he reached the back of your throat, where you proceeded to swallow, that his words fell free. He moaned, his hand trying not to keep you right there, but failing the second you cupped his balls. A stream of you’re perfect and I love you and I'd do anything to keep you safe fell from his lips, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head.

“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum,” he spit, his other hand gripping the sheets so tightly you were sure they would rip any second. So you slid your hand into his, letting him press your palm into the mattress as he would when he was thrusting into you.

You moaned when he thrusted into your mouth, the spurt of precum spreading on your tongue. And that did him in. He came with a hoarse cry of your name, his head falling forward and body crumpling in on himself. You wanted to burn the image of him like this into your mind. So you could see it every time you closed your eyes. But you settled for keeping him this way until he could no longer take the hot wet feel of your mouth, the divine caress of your tongue.

“Sugar I’m gonna—fuck,” he gasped, pulling you off him and watching whatever you couldn’t catch in your mouth drip down your throat. “You tryna kill me?”

A smile crossed your lips as you got up with a slight wince, crawling into his lap. “I wasn’t done yet.” You pressed your finger to his bottom lip, pulling at it lightly. “I wanted all of you in my mouth.

“Shit,” he breathed, his thumb gathering the pearly cum that still streaked down your throat, dragging it up to your mouth. “Well then open wide baby. And then it’s my turn.”

[halsinkisser]

good news: i have a new bf! bad news: he's a discord mod 😹

[sona and quest both use he/him!]

[gurophiliacs]

imagine giving your F/O oral before their cock is hard

kissing their bulge while there's still a layer of fabric between you. pulling it away to nuzzle your face into their balls, and mouth at them a bit. their skin is so soft... maybe nip at it around his hips, leave a few hickies.

doesn't matter how big their cock is. you put it in your mouth, maybe just to hold it there for a bit. you can stick your tongue in their foreskin, if they have any. pull it back and lick at the head... kiss it, even.

they stroke your hair, murmuring about how good your lips feel against their skin. their cock twitches as you run your tongue against it. you can bring your hands to their thighs and squeeze them -- gently, though, or they'll get hard quicker. you want to enjoy this moment of intimacy for as long as possible.

[lethalchiralium]

wait wait wait!! you mentioned that you wanted to kill the missus quite a few times and mellie’s birth au was just 👌

so how about making simon’s fear with losing the missus with the home birth come true? i mean, atleast she dies in his arms unlike with mellie au? they can say goodbye and simon can self flagellate more by blaming his self for agreeing into this shit show that is now turning into a nightmare. imagine his panic during and his helplessness with needing to care for the baby while tending to you just bleeding over that bath tub. and goddamn it, why is the ambulance taking so long?!

-🥀

all of you are evil like me and i love it. I LOVE IT.

(https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8j9wEah/ , look. LOOK. grown out beard and hair simon is everything i need, he always has been and will always be happiness simon 🤠) (thanks to @as-is-above-so-below for some dialogue and overall delulu with me teehee)

WARNINGS: child birth, blood, character death, grief.

HAPPINESS AU.

Winnie and Mellie were gone for the weekend with Soap and Price by the time you were having your first contraction. Simon rushed home after your phone call, letting the small bag of groceries land on the table without stopping. He was up the stairs in two seconds flat, his shoes dragging rain throughout your house - he didn’t care. It was time. He burst through the bathroom door, similar to the way he did when you miscarried your first son. Now, he burst through the door, ready to help you deliver your son.

You had already set up plastic tarps and towels for your delivery in your bathtub; warm water level kept at a two inch height, a pillow behind your back as your hands gripped the rim of the porcelain. He was instantly tearing off his shoes, tossing them into the bedroom as he asked, “Give me the word and I’ll call the ambulance right now, love.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smirk, eyes screwed shut as you tried to stay quiet during the contraction, but you ultimately failed. A low groan came from the center of your chest as Simon quickly washed his hands, then moved to you. He smiled as he kissed your head, nervous as all Hell but ready to meet his son. His hand gently curled around the back of your head, the other settled just beside your hand that gripped the tub.

As soon as you let go and your eyes opened, Simon took your hand. Kissing the back of it, his smile made your heartbeat climb. He truly was the most beautiful person you knew.

“Ready to meet our baby?” You whispered, your own smile on your face as your empty hand rested on your belly.

He laughed, kissing your lips. He kept his face close to yours as he pulled his lips away, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m ready.” He stayed there for just a second before he moved, getting into the tub to kneel between your legs. His eyes met yours, he spoke softly, “You sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”

You shook your head, hand reaching for his - your fingers linking together linked together with his as you uttered the words, “I want to do this with just you.” You wanted to have this experience with just him and him alone.

He held out his other hand and you took it, the tremors in your belly grew painful again, another contraction roared its head and you squeezed your eyes shut. He glanced down, his heart racing as he could see his son crowning. Your hands trembled, your head began to compress as you gritted your teeth; this was the worst one yet. It felt like everything was pulling, pulling, pulling until-

Snap.

The scream you let out was terrifying, but Simon still clutched your hands tightly as you squeezed his. Something was wrong.

“Simon- Simon, call the ambulance.”

His eyes looked up to your face, panic instantly running through his chest. “What?”

“Something’s-“ A wince left your throat. Tears fell faster from your eyes, the red hot pain in your pelvis felt like it was increasing dramatically at every second.

“Baby, what’s wrong? What’s-“

He looked back down and all he saw was blood.

He didn’t even remember calling 999 by the time he was in the tub, kneeling in front of you and covered in your blood. He couldn’t even admit to himself that he was scared, he felt nothing but fear as he pulled his son out, taking him into his arms. Blood rushed out of you, Simon pressed a towel in between your legs to try and curb the bleeding, his eyes watching you frantically. With his knee pressing the towel into you, his one free hand reached for you.

Your eyes began to haze over, tears in them as you spoke, “I don’t- I don’t wanna die.”

“You’re not, sweetheart. You’re not gonna die on me.” He spoke, squeezing your hand before he began to move his son to rest on your bare chest. “Gotta hold ‘im, love. Just for a second, I need to try and stop the bleeding.”

You have him a languid nod, your hand coming to rest on top of your baby as he cried against your sweaty skin.

“His name.” Your voice was broken, tired; your hands weak against your strong baby as he cried and cried.

Simon pulled the towel away, it was soaked with blood. He grabbed another from the stack beside the tub, pressing it in between your legs again with his knee before he looked back to you. Your face full of tears, your hands cradling your son.

“Where the fuck is the ambulance?” His head looked up towards the bathroom door, hoping he would hear paramedics enter through his front door - but he heard nothing.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re gonna be fine, Y/N.”

“I don’t want to leave you, Simon.”

“You’re not.”

“I don’t want to be someone who hurts you after… after I’ve done so much to heal you.”

He heard movement, a call from his living room and hope sparked in his chest. His head jolted towards the door, he shouted back, “Up here! She’s up here!” He looked back to you. “They’re here, love. Just a minute longer and they can help you, okay?” He could hear the boots as they ran through the house, he gazed at your exhausted face. “I’m gonna have to move you, love. Hold onto him, hold onto the baby.”

You barely nodded before he let go of your hands, then he was quick to get out of the tub - he pulled you up and out of the tub, his heart stung as he heard your broken scream of pain. He placed you on the ground, taking another towel and pressing it between your legs. There was so much blood, Simon couldn’t even think straight as he placed more towels underneath your head.

“Just a minute longer.”

Your eyes opened, tears pouring from them as you struggled to smile and nod. “Okay, Si. Okay.”

The paramedics came through the doorway, instantly dropping bags of medical equipment onto the tile floor. Simon moved to kneel beside her head, he ignored the paramedics as they began to work on you.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, his eyebrows furrowed as he held your face.

“Don’t. Don’t do that.” He gave you a reassuring smile, trying to keep you in good spirits. He wanted you to be okay, he needed you to be okay. “You’re fine, everything’s fine.”

There was a low rumble that came from your throat, you glanced down at your son before looking back up at your husband. Your wonderful, beautiful husband who loved you more than you have ever been loved in your entire life. “Take him.”

Those words made Simon’s blood turn ice cold. You had waited so long to hold your son, you were meant to hold him, they were working on you. You would be fine. “N-No. You-“

“I’m fine, remember?”

“But-“ If I take him, you’ll leave.

“I’m fine, baby. Take our son.” If there was a moment when he could stop time and admire your face, it would be then. It would be when your smile was small, you looked so hopeful. “…Please, Simon.”

His hands felt ice cold as he gently pulled his warm newborn from your chest, the baby pawed at his chest as he wailed. He looked to a paramedic, they nodded and reached for his son, taking him from Simon’s blood stained hands. Your husband looked back to you, watching your lively eyes begin to dull and flutter closed.

“I love you, Simon Riley.”

“No, baby, no-“

“I love you.”

“Y/N Riley, open your eyes. Open your eyes, goddammit!” One hand gently smacked your cheek, the other held the hand with your beautiful wedding ring on it. “Don’t- Don’t go. Please, don’t go.”

His son screamed across the room, to Simon it sounded like he was begging for you to stay too.

“Wake up. Wake up, baby, c’mon. Wake up, it’s not funny. It’s not-“ He choked on a sob, tears streaming down his cheeks. He would never forget how warm you were, how warm your hand was, how warm your blood was. “Baby. Y/N. Please. I can’t do this- I can’t do this again.”

Nothing left your lips.

His chest curled inwards, his heart crushing with every beat. Red hot spears went through his spine, through his arms and legs - the warm light that came from the light fixture felt like a thousand needles in his skin. He felt anger. He wanted to break his hand in the wall beside him, wanted to scream as loud as he could, for as long as he could. He wanted to die at that exact moment.

He wanted to tell you he loved you, but the wave of grief had walled and hit him dead on. He bowed his head to you, sobs leaving his chest as his hands held your face and hand.

The paramedics sat and watched the display, yet their hands prodded at Simon, trying to move him away from you. A scream ripped from his throat, his face then buried in your neck as nauseating sobs escaped his lips.

You were supposed to stay. You were so excited to meet your son, so excited to have this stupid home birth, excited to be doing it with him. You always loved him so much, and he showed you that he loved you by constantly choosing his career over you - but you were always so understanding. You just wanted to have a baby with him, have him be there with you, to hold and comfort you.

His sobs became silent and painful when he came to a devastating realization.

You would never see your babies grow up.

gotta love the angsty happiness asks

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[thats-how-i-like-it]

save me dark haired men with scruff in their thirties who are father figures who want to act like they wouldn't die for their 10+ kids, save me, save me men with a lot of trauma who are saved and given hope by their kids.

SAVE MEEE.

[doodlepoodle69]

Imagine your older shipcest F/O giving you a hands on sex ED..

[ghostie-selfships]

There's something so sweet to me about having an f/o that's considered intimidating or scary. Like this big spooky person LOVES YOU!!! They love you so much, and they want you to know it!

Can they be a little bit intense about it? Of course. But they do it to show just how much they care, how dedicated they are to you.

And the joy it brings them from the bottom of their heart, that YOU were the person to bring this side out of them. Priceless, they wouldn't trade it for anything.

[deathdetermineslife]

fun things you can do when you have an f/o!

print out pictures of them to hang up on your wall!

if they wear jewelry, make it!

make stickers of them! (there's tutorials on youtube of how to make stickers at home, or, you can get sticker paper on amazon for pretty cheap, mine was $6!)

if you do make stickers, put them on your sketchbook, journal, laptop, or whatever you feel like putting them on!

make a google slides presentation on them! alternatively, you could also write an essay about them.

if they don't have a canonical style of handwriting, find or try to write in a way they would write!

if they do, try making your own font of their handwriting that you can download and use. or, try to learn how to write similarly to them, maybe write letters to yourself from their perspective.

if they have a birthday or there's a holiday coming up (irl or canonical), make a card for them!

make them in the sims, or some other character creation making game. or, make a minecraft skin of them.

draw them as a character from another source. for example, draw them as a pony from mlp, or draw them as a character from smiling friends!

make a playlist of youtube videos you'd think they'd enjoy watching, and perhaps watch them again and pretend like you're watching them with your f/o.

make food they canonically like, or you'd think they'd like!

make a tier list as if they were making it! like a fruit tier list, for example.

if I think of anything else, I'll make a part 2!

[seaside-lovers-archive]

Learning to Trust Again

art by @/shadowmisfire | divider by @/chachachannah

Scarecrow is visited by a new friend who brings him a gift.

Word count: 1,079 words

Scarecrow lay in the darkness, curled up into the corner as tightly as he possibly could, cursing his masters for their decisions. Of all the things for us to share, the ability to feel pain is one they had to give… Every part of his body ached, his joints creaking in protest as he shifted, trying to get comfortable under the pile of cushions.

While he certainly was not going to turn down the opportunity to live once again, he certainly had not missed the physical pains that came with life. While his kind were certainly made to be healed at least once, a second time was mostly unheard of, and being brought back from the dead was thought to be impossible… until he found himself back on his home planet with a human ship several hundred feet away.

He shifted again, his neck stiff against the pillow which provided little comfort against the wooden slats. A human shelter would never have been his first choice but he was not going to reject shelter. He was wiser than that. Any shelter was better than no shelter, especially considering the weather patterns of Alpha Centauri had been rainy lately. Rain would not help his body at all.

A noise, shuffling of small feet against dirt. His sensors lit up like explosions, alerting him to a possible threat. Despite his aching body, he was up in an instant, lasers powering up, ready to fight for his newly given life.

“Scarecrow…? It’s me. I wanted to check on you.” The barn door creaked open, Kate’s silhouette bright against the dim atmosphere outside.

He forced himself to relax, powering down his lasers and tucking his upper arms back into their place. He realized his body was shivering and his joints flaring, being reminded of electricity coursing through them. You’re not in danger. You’re fine. She’s not going to hurt you. This mantra repeated in his head over and over again, trying to remind him that this was not a bad human.

He took a moment to force himself to focus on her as she gently closed the door behind her, then approached the ladder that led to his loft. “Can I come up?”

He slowly approached the ledge and peered over, staring down at the human. She stared right back up at him, blinking slowly, waiting for his permission.

He gestured for her to climb, then retreated back to his corner, listening to her footsteps and light humming.

She approached him slowly and carefully. Scarecrow assumed he scared her - he was much bigger and stronger than she was. He could easily rip her to shreds if he wanted to. And yet, despite his assumption, she didn’t seem to actually fear him in any way. Her cautiousness seemed almost… respectful, in a way.

She smiled warmly at him, eyes crinkling, and held out something - he had not noticed it tucked under her arm before.

A blanket.

“I thought you might want this,” she said, still smiling. There - that was a hint of nervousness. His first meeting with her after she had offered the barn to him was similar - that never-disappearing smile, a sign of her not knowing how to handle what she had gotten herself into. 

He craned his neck to get a better look at it - the material seemed soft, dyed a dark red with white symbols scattered across it. The human interpretation of stars, he noted. He stayed where he was, staring at the blanket, then looking up at her. What would I need a blanket for? 

Kate’s smile disappeared, her brow furrowed, and she pursed her lips. “I-I’m sorry, I figured the cushions aren’t much protection against the cold. Maybe you don’t even get cold… but something soft might still be a comfort to you.” 

He tilted his head to the side, curiosity getting the better of him, then reached forward slowly. Taking the blanket from her outstretched hand, he felt his claws gently trace along her rough soft fingers as he drew his arm back. Scarecrow held the blanket up in front of his screen, inspecting it further.

A comfort. That was a good word to use for the blanket. He had always been fond of red, and the blanket was a nice shade. While he scoffed at the crudely shaped stars, he still liked the way the white broke up the continuous red and formed a nice pattern. He finally drew the blanket up to his chest and began to knead it, enjoying the feeling of the material under his claw.

Scarecrow glanced back up after a few moments to see Kate smiling again, a much more relaxed smile than before. “I’m glad you like it.” She turned and began to walk toward the ladder, waving to him at the same time. “Let me know if you need anything else, Scarecrow. You know where to find me.” As she began her descent down the ladder, Scarecrow found himself feeling more trustful of a human than he had in a long, long time.

“Thank you,” he rumbled.

Kate paused momentarily, turning back to face him, eyebrows raised. “Well… you’re welcome.” She gave him a small smile before turning back and climbing down the ladder. He listened carefully as she exited the barn, the sound of her footsteps and quiet humming fading into the rain.

Well, she was certainly right about the blanket. He was much more relaxed than he had been in a long time. He began to knead the blanket with both of his lower arms, feeling a rumbling starting up deep in his chest as he enjoyed the texture. 

Maybe, just maybe, he thought, this source of purring isn’t just because of the blanket. An image of Kate smiling warmly at him flitted through his mind, but he quickly squashed that thought back down into the dark recesses of his memories; he certainly wasn’t ready to deal with that whole situation yet. 

He would, in time.

How that would go, he had no clue. But he knew he had her patience, and she had given him all the time in the world to build up his trust.

Soon, perhaps, we can get to know her better, he thought, settling back down into the cushions with the blanket wrapped in his arms. The pattering of rain continued as he was lulled into rest mode, thoughts of Kate’s smile warming him from the inside out.

[seaside-lovers]

Learning to Trust Again

art by @/barb8tos | divider by @/chachachannah | reblogs appreciated <3

Scarecrow is visited by a new friend who brings him a gift.

Scarecrow lay in the darkness, curled up into the corner as tightly as he possibly could, cursing his masters for their decisions. Of all the things for us to share, the ability to feel pain is one they had to give… Every part of his body ached, his joints creaking in protest as he shifted, trying to get comfortable under the pile of cushions.

While he certainly was not going to turn down the opportunity to live once again, he certainly had not missed the physical pains that came with life. While his kind were certainly made to be healed at least once, a second time was mostly unheard of, and being brought back from the dead was thought to be impossible… until he found himself back on his home planet with a human ship several hundred feet away.

He shifted again, his neck stiff against the pillow which provided little comfort against the wooden slats. A human shelter would never have been his first choice but he was not going to reject shelter. He was wiser than that. Any shelter was better than no shelter, especially considering the weather patterns of Alpha Centauri had been rainy lately. Rain would not help his body at all.

A noise, shuffling of small feet against dirt. His sensors lit up like explosions, alerting him to a possible threat. Despite his aching body, he was up in an instant, lasers powering up, ready to fight for his newly given life.

“Scarecrow…? It’s me. I wanted to check on you.” The barn door creaked open, Kate’s silhouette bright against the dim atmosphere outside.

He forced himself to relax, powering down his lasers and tucking his upper arms back into their place. He realized his body was shivering and his joints flaring, being reminded of electricity coursing through them. You’re not in danger. You’re fine. She’s not going to hurt you. This mantra repeated in his head over and over again, trying to remind him that this was not a bad human.

He took a moment to force himself to focus on her as she gently closed the door behind her, then approached the ladder that led to his loft. “Can I come up?”

He slowly approached the ledge and peered over, staring down at the human. She stared right back up at him, blinking slowly, waiting for his permission.

He gestured for her to climb, then retreated back to his corner, listening to her footsteps and light humming.

She approached him slowly and carefully. Scarecrow assumed he scared her - he was much bigger and stronger than she was. He could easily rip her to shreds if he wanted to. And yet, despite his assumption, she didn’t seem to actually fear him in any way. Her cautiousness seemed almost… respectful, in a way.

She smiled warmly at him, eyes crinkling, and held out something - he had not noticed it tucked under her arm before.

A blanket.

“I thought you might want this,” she said, still smiling. There - that was a hint of nervousness. His first meeting with her after she had offered the barn to him was similar - that never-disappearing smile, a sign of her not knowing how to handle what she had gotten herself into. 

He craned his neck to get a better look at it - the material seemed soft, dyed a dark red with white symbols scattered across it. The human interpretation of stars, he noted. He stayed where he was, staring at the blanket, then looking up at her. What would I need a blanket for? 

Kate’s smile disappeared, her brow furrowed, and she pursed her lips. “I-I’m sorry, I figured the cushions aren’t much protection against the cold. Maybe you don’t even get cold… but something soft might still be a comfort to you.” 

He tilted his head to the side, curiosity getting the better of him, then reached forward slowly. Taking the blanket from her outstretched hand, he felt his claws gently trace along her rough soft fingers as he drew his arm back. Scarecrow held the blanket up in front of his screen, inspecting it further.

A comfort. That was a good word to use for the blanket. He had always been fond of red, and the blanket was a nice shade. While he scoffed at the crudely shaped stars, he still liked the way the white broke up the continuous red and formed a nice pattern. He finally drew the blanket up to his chest and began to knead it, enjoying the feeling of the material under his claw.

Scarecrow glanced back up after a few moments to see Kate smiling again, a much more relaxed smile than before. “I’m glad you like it.” She turned and began to walk toward the ladder, waving to him at the same time. “Let me know if you need anything else, Scarecrow. You know where to find me.” As she began her descent down the ladder, Scarecrow found himself feeling more trustful of a human than he had in a long, long time.

“Thank you,” he rumbled.

Kate paused momentarily, turning back to face him, eyebrows raised. “Well… you’re welcome.” She gave him a small smile before turning back and climbing down the ladder. He listened carefully as she exited the barn, the sound of her footsteps and quiet humming fading into the rain.

Well, she was certainly right about the blanket. He was much more relaxed than he had been in a long time. He began to knead the blanket with both of his lower arms, feeling a rumbling starting up deep in his chest as he enjoyed the texture. 

Maybe, just maybe, he thought, this source of purring isn’t just because of the blanket. An image of Kate smiling warmly at him flitted through his mind, but he quickly squashed that thought back down into the dark recesses of his memories; he certainly wasn’t ready to deal with that whole situation yet. 

He would, in time.

How that would go, he had no clue. But he knew he had her patience, and she had given him all the time in the world to build up his trust.

Soon, perhaps, we can get to know her better, he thought, settling back down into the cushions with the blanket wrapped in his arms. The pattering of rain continued as he was lulled into rest mode, thoughts of Kate’s smile warming him from the inside out.

[oc-fo-self-indulgence]

Imagine what your bedtime routine looks like with your F/O(s)!

What do their pajamas look like? Fancy? Cute? Just really comfy?

Do they take a shower at night? Do you? If you both do, how do you work around that? Who showers first? Or is it together?

Do any of you need noise while you sleep? Do you guys cuddle? Are one of both/all of you a blanket hog?

Just!!! what are the bedtime rituals that have fallen into place throughout the time of your life together <3

[moonlight-prose]

I love all of the prompts for your Sinful Soiree! It's so hard to choose one!

May I please request 💕 Steven Grant 💕 with the prompt: 🌹 "i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know." 🌹

I picked what I think would fluster him because i have the feminine urge to make that man ✨blush ✨

Thank you, love!

SUBTLE THINGS

a/n: when i say i meant to finish this within the first week of me doing the event. i had half of it written but steven's inspo vanished for some reason. honestly this fic is just porn very little plot. i tried to add some, but i don't know if i was entirely successful. given that it's steven being needy and a little bit greedy. i hope you enjoy it darling! (also yes that gif was entirely necessary. it shut off my brain seeing it so i had to use it).

summary: "steven wasn’t greedy by nature. but something about you flipped a switch in his mind, and suddenly he was a starved man, begging for a taste of whatever you had to offer."

word count: 1.8k+

pairing: steven grant x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, teasing, steven being hopelessly in love, fluff, oral (f receiving), cum eating, cumplay, masturbation, slight sub!steven vibes.

He was never subtle about the way he looked at you. Stealing glances as if he couldn’t get enough—addicted to the sight in front of him. Date night was a regular occurrence when it came to your relationship. A small routine to give yourselves something to look forward to.

If anything it gave you a chance to leave the flat for a change; most nights spent curled up on his couch in pajamas. You cherished moments like that, but you relished in times like this. Where you sat across from him done up as if it was the first time you were doing this, the sparks flying between you stronger than that night.

The same night he walked you to your place, only to come back an hour later per your request.

You smiled, sipping on the wine he picked and delighting in the fruity tang of it. Wishing more than anything that you were tasting it off his tongue. He watched your throat as you swallowed, his tongue peeking out to swipe against his lips as his fingers drummed on the table. He seemed antsy, ready to leave at a moment’s notice.

Steven was first nervous when you were together, wanting to please you however you wanted. But then things shifted. He gained confidence in how he could render you speechless with just his touch alone. How you lost your breath with a single look in your direction. Except there were still moments when you were able to bring back that stuttering man you fell in love with—watching his eyes dilate, chest heaving with anticipation.

“Dinner was delicious,” you said, pushing away the now empty plate of food.

He nodded, his lips pulling up into that precious grin. “I found this place in a guidebook. A bit old fashioned if I do say so myself.”

“Old fashioned is good though.”

His smile grew, mouth opening to continue telling you the details of the guidebook in particular, but your foot running up the length of his leg caused him to freeze. You could practically see the words die on his tongue as his eyes widened, his breath stuttering in his chest. There were only a handful of times where you acted this brazen out in public—this needy for his attention. His affection.

Steven could replay them in his mind with ease—each moment burned into his brain.

“Love…”

“I have a little detail of my own,” you stated as if you were about to tell him the most mundane fact known to man.

“Yeah?” he asked, breathless to the way you ran your finger along your bottom lip, cleaning up the smudged lipstick that was there. He found himself wanting to lick it off your mouth.

You nodded with a sly smile. “I’m not wearing any underwear.” He choked on this spit and you watched in glee. His chest heaving as he coughed—cheeks flushing a dark red. “Thought you’d like to know.”

“You’re…” His eyes dropped to the part of the table that covered your lap and you could practically see the gears in his head moving.

Steven thought for a second his heart would burst out of his chest. The knowledge that you were sitting there, bare for him to touch, to taste. He was a reserved man. Believing that you deserved the utmost respect when it came to where you two made love. But there were nights when he felt himself slip—desire overcoming any sort of sense that might have been running through his brain.

Before he could get a coherent string of words together, you stood from the table. The words bathroom and be right back being uttered. Except he wasn’t paying attention, eyes focusing on the slight sway of your hips when you walked. His thoughts immediately fell to what you looked like beneath your dress. Were you wet for him? Were you dripping down the inside of your thighs?

He was standing abruptly and following you before he could get a hold on himself.

Thankfully he was always one to be prepared. Paying for the bill before either of you finished your meals, because he knew you weren’t one to have dessert at the restaurant. Too invested in the thought of finally getting home where Steven spent the better part of the night between your thighs. He could practically taste you on his tongue, see your head tilted back in bliss as your thighs shook around his head.

His fist was rapping against the wooden door of the women’s bathroom in mere minutes. Waiting for you to open it for him.

“Took you long enough,” you practically purred, tugging him in by the lapels on his blazer.

He was pushed against the door, your lips sliding against his in a way that had his body going lax, a whine building up in his throat. In a quick haphazard move, he managed to lock the door before grasping for your hips—walking you back until your waist met the sink. His tongue licked into your mouth, your wet needy moan muffled as he took and took and took.

Steven wasn’t greedy by nature. But something about you flipped a switch in his mind, and suddenly he was a starved man, begging for a taste of whatever you had to offer. He pushed the skirt of your dress up, his chest heaving as he took in air like he’d never get it again. And there it was. The truth of your little detail all shiny with your slick—your inner thighs practically coated as well.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, eyes snapping up to see your lips spread into a smile, your hand grasping onto his wrist to tug him closer.

He groaned when his fingers slid along your cunt, the warmth of you practically seeping into his palm. There was no doubt now that Steven wouldn’t wait until the two of you got home. Not when you were willing and ready for him to take you now. Finding your clit with ease he grinned when your high pitched moan echoed off the walls of the bathroom. You canted your hips against him with a fervor he shared, your lips parting with small gasps of air.

“S-Steven,” you begged, teeth coming out to dig into your bottom lip.

“I’m here.” He wanted to devour you. To drink down the taste of you as if you were the best fucking dessert in this restaurant, because to Steven…you were.

“I need—f-fuck—need you baby.”

He nodded and before you could stop him, he was falling to his knees and spreading your legs wide enough for him to fit. With a dazed look in his eyes, he watched his fingers spread your slick up to your clit—his cock twitching painfully in his pants. What he wouldn’t give to spend hours right here, but you had a limited amount of time and he wanted to get you home.

Licking a broad stripe up to your clit, Steven felt the control snap inside of his body. Your hand slapped against your mouth effectively muffling your cry as he sucked your clit into his mouth. Two fingers dipping into you and curling as if on instinct. For him this was exactly that. He knew where to touch, what to do to bring you right to the end and back again.

He wanted to drive you to the edge and watch you fly off. The sight had become an addiction to him ever since the first time he saw it; now adamant on witnessing such beauty over and over again.

You dug your fingers into his curls, your hips rolling over his mouth and his eyes fluttered shut. A soft moan reverberating against your cunt as he licked at you, fingers pumping in and out at a rapid pace. He was drunk, desperate to have you entirely spread on his tongue. Until you couldn’t take it anymore. Sucking your lips into his mouth, he let them go with a pop, a wide grin spreading across his lips when your whole body jerked—a cry echoing behind your hand.

“Taste so good,” he mumbled, curving his fingers even more—watching in awe as your thighs trembled.

Words evaded you at that point. Your mind, a mess of nothing but Steven and the building pressure in your torso. He dove back in, doubling down on his efforts to have you cum into his mouth—your taste, something he wanted permanently stuck on his taste buds.

It’s when you began to rock your hips along his tongue with reckless abandon, moving him how you wanted, is when he felt it. The painful throbbing in his pants. Unbuckling his belt with one hand he managed to wrap his hand around his cock—alleviating some of the pressure. It wasn’t enough, but Steven didn’t care. His sole focus wasn’t on getting himself off tonight. No, he wanted to watch you crumble.

To scream his name so the whole restaurant heard you.

“Steven—” you gasped sharply, head falling back. “I’m gonna—oh fuck—”

He dragged his teeth lightly along your clit, pressing down on your g-spot and you shattered. Sobbing his name as your fingers tightened on his curls—pain blooming in his scalp and shoving him right over the edge with you. He grunted, hips thrusting into his hand as he spilled over his palm. A bright heat flooded his body, your slick now gushing into his awaiting mouth, and Steven felt like he’d ascended into pure bliss.

There was no bringing him down from this cloud, no saving him from you consuming him whole.

“Ah fuck love,” he grunted, biting into your thigh as he pumped his hand to reach that delicious point of overstimulation you usually brought him to.

“Did you…” Your face was fucked out, eyes hazy and blissed out, but still you watched as he continued to touch himself in front of you.

Something about the sight of Steven on his knees, so desperate to have you he couldn’t wait, shifting your entire mind. You bit your lip, tilting his head back as he gasped in pleasure—his cheeks red and flushed. It happened before you understood entirely what you were doing.

“Look at you baby,” you cooed, spreading your legs a bit more to show him the mess he made of you. “Open wide,” you breathed.

He followed your words without hesitation, his mouth parting. Sliding your fingers through your cum, you pressed your now shiny digits into his mouth, moaning when he sucked them clean. His whole body responded to you as it always did.

“Take me home Steven.” You wanted him inside you—aching to have him fill your now dripping cunt.

Getting to his feet, he tucked himself back into his pants and gathered you close. Pressing a deep kiss to your lips, licking into your mouth and spreading your own taste along your tongue. That familiar heady feeling returned, flooding your entire body until you practically hummed. He wasn’t subtle in the way he touched you, how he made it clear how much he wanted you.

Yet that’s what made you love him even more.