#IN HIS OFFICE

[hislittlething]

his office.

[pertinax--loculos]

That post about writing criminals when you're young but about People Working in Offices. I know they have Meetings, and they Type Things, and they do Work(TM). What sort of work? Hell if I know.

[theotherendcomics]

[kendyroy]

Seeing Logan in the TVA makes me laugh so hard for some reason? Like I know he’s lived to see technology evolve and stuff, but there’s something so funny about a guy from the 1800s standing in some kind of retro-futuristic timey wimey agency to me. Man is confused as hell.

like what da hell is a polar bear doin in arlington texas

[tiger-grace]

Superman: I haven’t seen you at the watchtower for a while. Where have you been the last few weeks, Batman?

Bruce: Rehab.

Superman, worriedly: Oh, I’m so sorry- I never knew you struggled with that. If you don’t mind me asking, what for?

Bruce, grimacing as he watches public footage of Signal and Red Hood starting a dumpster fire out of Pro-Joker merch: ..adoption.

[autisticrosewilson]

Thinking about the newer bats (Duke, Cass, Steph, Tim) speculating on Jason's age because he looks like a recently divorced 30 y/o but he's younger than Dick, and he acts like a 50 year old man (he still has a Nokia, out of the loop on Internet and pop culture, primarily listens to dad rock), and after they've exhausted all their guesses Dick breezes in, informs them he's like 24, and then leaves.

The bats then have to come to terms with the fact that Jason was NINETEEN when he took over the criminal underground.

[fettuccin-e]

*falls to the floor*

lunch date

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

summary: matt invites you to his office for a lunch date, but it doesn't go as expected.

warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

a/n: inspired by my primal desire to fuck matty in his office. that's it.

word count: 1k

When Matt invited you to his office for a lunch date, he really did just intend to have lunch with you. Between the influx of cases at Nelson and Murdock, a series of leads that he had been tracking at night, and your own busy schedule lately, Matt hadn’t been able to plan a date for almost two weeks. 

But then you walked through the door wearing his favorite sundress, and your skin felt like silk beneath his fingertips as he pulled you in for a hug, and the sweet vanilla of your body lotion mixed with the zesty orange of your shampoo lingering in your hair reminded him that it had been five days since he last touched you.

And somewhere between the front door to Nelson and Murdock and the threshold of Matt’s office door, the idea of lunch was abandoned altogether as your synchronized heavy pants filled the space while you rocked your hips on his lap. 

Matt tightened his arm around your waist as you whimpered softly, bunching your dress further above your hips so that he could grip tightly onto your soft flesh. Your fingers lightly tugged at the hair at the base of his neck, while your other hand clawed ephemeral red lines along his bare chest to join the ivory scars embedded in his skin. His dress shirt hung messily off his shoulders, and you used the opportunity to nip and suck at his collarbones before trailing your lips up his neck.

A low groan echoed in his chest when the warmth of your tongue soothed the graze of your teeth, and he dug his fingers deeper into your soft hips to steady himself. His office chair creaked as you moved your hips swiftly, and as much as Matt wanted to bend you over his desk and fuck you over it, Karen and Foggy were rounding the corner on the street, and he needed to be quick.

“Shit…just…a little more, sweetheart.”

He pressed his thumb directly onto your sensitive clit, and a loud prayer of his name slipped past your kiss bitten lips. The gentle sound of your skin colliding filled Matt’s ears when you started to bounce on his cock, gripping onto his strong shoulders and digging your nails deep into the muscle. Matt flexed his hips upwards to meet your thrusts, gripping onto the back of your head as he moaned your name desperately into your ear.

“Just like that, angel. Just like-fuck, please. Please…need to feel you. Let me feel you, baby.”

Matt clenched his eyes shut and buried his face into your neck as a howl of your name clawed its way out of his chest. The second your warm walls tightened around his cock and flooded with your release, Matt emptied himself in your haven, and his thighs spasmed with aftershocks as you convulsed delicately on his lap with the softest pleas of his name escaping your mouth. 

The mixture of your desire leaked down the base of his cock, and he could feel it starting to seep into his pants. He’d have to get them dry cleaned, considering he hadn’t even bothered to push them down his thighs, just enough to free himself so he could disappear inside of you. But that thought was swept to the back of his mind as he gave your thigh a tight squeeze and attempted to catch his breath.

“Fuck, um…Foggy and…Karen-”

“You said they were gone?”

“They’re in the elevator.”

“Matthew!”

Even as you chided him, all Matt could do was grin in his blissed out state. A conjoined hiss left you both when you suddenly stood; yours from the sudden emptiness and Matt’s from the loss of your soft warmth. Grabbing a tissue from his desk, you tossed him the box so that you could quickly clean yourselves up. Matt clamped down on his bottom lip as he stuffed his sensitive cock back into his briefs, and pulled the leather back through his belt loop just as Foggy and Karen entered the door.

You quickly reached over to smooth his hair back into place, and Matt slipped his crimson glasses over his eyes to hide the evidence of his gratification. Foggy’s chipper voice boomed through the office as he made his way into Matt’s office.

“Y/N/N!”

“Hi Foggy.”

Matt grinned hearing the happiness in your voice. He loved that you loved his friends as much as he did, and as much as they loved you.

He loved you.

“Didn’t you guys have a lunch date?”

Karen’s inquisitive tone had Matt’s grin faltering, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips as he racked his brain for a quick excuse. But luckily for him, you were already a step ahead.

“We’re still trying to figure out where to go, kinda got sidetracked. Matt was telling me about the new client.”

A proud smile stretched across his mouth as he reached over to place his hand over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze as he gave you a knowing look with a tilt of his head and an arch of his brow.

“Oh! You guys should check out that new pizza place Brett was talking about. And bring us some back. Not that we don’t trust your judgment or anything, but your boyfriend owes me lunch.”

“For what?”

Matt suddenly turned his head in his best friend’s direction, his brows pulling in towards the center of his forehead in skepticism.

“Because you love me, buddy.”

Matt rolled his eyes behind his glasses, chuckling to himself as you giggled and brushed your thumb lightly over his worn knuckles.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t forget.”

“See? This is why you’re my favorite.”

Once Matt felt like he could stand without his legs giving out, he slowly rose up from his chair and reached for his folded cane. As he turned to you, Karen’s voice suddenly cut through the noise of Foggy’s descending foot steps.

“Hey Matt?”

“Yeah?”

“Weren’t you wearing a tie earlier?”

Matt abruptly stilled.

Fuck. He’d forgotten about his tie.

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042

[chloesimaginationthings]

The real reason why FNAF movie Vanessa got her job,,

[annabelle--cane]

it's funny how wildly vampire media varies on how much blood drinking is lethal. for some vamps, if they get lost in the sauce for even just seven seconds then you are a total goner, absolutely deadzo. for others, they can have a multi minute sloppy slurp sesh with you twice a week for months on end and you only feel a little woozy. the vampire claudia drained her whole boyfriend in less than half a minute but count dracula himself needed like four tries to exsanguinate one teenager with a sleep disorder. one of the many ways in which claudia is superior to dracula.

[solacebean]

He’s just so funny to me I’ll never get over it

[knockknockwhosthereartistism]

AU where the Axolotl sends Bill to the mystery shack for rehabilitation after spending some time in the Theraprism

(OG AU is by waty_mot on Twitter)

[hoodedjelly]

Motivated to sleep

[yeyinde]

John deciding to blow off steam by subscribing to a cute camgirl's onlyfans account and quickly becoming the top contributor. a harmless way to relax, and spoil a pretty girl with gifts and money, the sort of thing he doesn't have time for in his personal life but craves. hungers for. pays for lingerie and toys, private shows and videos. eagerly devours any time she has to spare on him, but the more he gets to know her, the more obsessed he becomes. the more possessive. wanting. monopolizing all of her time so that she never has a minute to spare on others.

and then she sends him a birthday video. congrats on your fortieth, she whispers into the camera, wearing the ensemble he bought for her. a mould of his cock in her hands, a whim he decided to go for after she pouted at him for a few minutes about how she wanted to feel him inside of her. or a (not so) cheap imitation, anyway. it's good. so good. she's perfect. and all his for tonight.

but she makes a mistake. his kitten is so good at hiding her face, her features. keeping herself a mystery. but as she gives him the sexiest performance he's ever seen, she slips up. shows more of herself than she wants to.

wish i could say happy birthday in person, she winks at him through the cheap plastic of her mask. a fox. isn't she coy? but it's an invitation he won't turn down.

after all, it'd be rude not to give the cute little secretary that greets him every morning exactly what she asked for, wouldn't it?

[knifeforkspooncup]

The comedic potential of Aziraphale loving Christmas in theory but hating it in reality, which gives him catholic guilt/bad angel feelings, so he triples down on Christmas spirit to compensate. He's decking the halls like no tomorrow, he's partidging that pear tree, ohhh he's jingling those bells alright and cooing over the love in the air and isn't it wonderful Crowley, the spirit of christmas my dear, i may have done a little miracle and made it snow in Tadfield, Crowley. Meanwhile he's holed himself up in the bookshop like its under seige from guerilla christmas shoppers, he can't seem to get a single cup of cocoa that doesn't have peppermint in it, 4 children this week have poked him in the belly and asked him if he's santa clause, and to top it all off Mr. Brown has asked him to play the role of Gabriel in the Whickber street Nativity Play.

Crowley's in the corner watching the angel's eye get progressively twitchier and using up his entire demonic miracle quota to make sure Aziraphale's cup never empties of blindingly acoholic eggnog.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

three people who were going to three different concerts run into each others in an alley

[carebeardean]

Charles whose dad smashed his cassette tape with a hammer learns to navigate the backpack cause, like, he needs to be useful, yeah?

and this way Charles has everything Edwin needs, and if Edwin gets sick of him he’ll just.. he doesn’t know what he’ll do.

but then Edwin gets the record player.

he suggests, tentatively, that Charles might play some of his “queen” if he liked. after all, if they are to haunt potential realtors away from their new office, they may as well entertain themselves.

so they take turns, switching out; edwin likes opera. he shows Charles how to waltz, chiding Charles to stop looking at his feet til they’re gliding, whirling around like they’re in the movies. Edwin’s smile is small and pleased and lovely. (Charles attempt to get Edwin to headbang along to queen results in a sort of awkward rhythmic nodding. Charles loves him so much he could die again.)

And, like. Edwin doesn’t like clutter. he doesn’t bother with the random tidbits ghosts give them for solving cases.

until now, apparently.

now he comes back from trading at the goblin market with little useless things—a cursed rubix cube, records from bands Charles mentioned years ago.

Charles is so busy trying to subtly read his book on Edwardian courting rituals (disguised by Nikos discreet manga covers) that he doesn’t realize what Edwin’s set down in front of him. he stares at Edwin’s spiky handwriting, the tidy numbered list.

“I thought, perhaps, that we might—start a new tradition.”

Charles blinks, eyes stinging. “Mate, did you.. make me a mixtape?”

“Crystal assisted me, and while she was absolutely insuffer—“ Edwin staggers, catching him with a surprised little noise.

“I love you so much,” Charles says, muffled into his throat. “You’re my favorite person. I love you so much it hurts, sometimes.”

“Yes,” Edwin says softly, hands curling around his waist. He takes Charles weight like it’s nothing. “I believe I know the feeling.”

this is a longer fic on ao3 now!