#temp prompt tag

[ladytauria]

Pairing: Tim Drake/Jason Todd Rating: Explicit Words: 6.8k

Jason really should learn to watch his tongue around Tim.

finally. after over a year. this beast is done <3

Jason takes a drag from his cigarette, holding the smoke in his lungs for a beat, two—then exhaling through his nose. His shoulders loosen, the nicotine doing wonders for his frayed nerves. The smoke joins the general haze of the Iceberg Lounge; the frosty interior and low lights making everything look almost dreamlike.

The night is starting to wind down. If it were up to Jason, they would have left hours ago. He knows his appearances at the Lounge are necessary if he wants people to keep following his rules, and that he gets decent intel from it, but—

Fuck, he just gets so tired.

At least Tim is here, tucked sweetly under Jason’s arm like he hasn’t spent most of the night being an absolute menace, making idle conversation with Jason’s lieutenants.

He has one last informant to meet with, and then they can get out of here and go home.

He snubs out his cigarette and takes a sip of his whiskey. He’s been nursing the same one most of the night, for appearances sake if nothing else. Tim squeezes his thigh under the table—more reassurance than teasing, though it definitely adds kindling to the smoldering flame in Jason’s belly.

Jason lowers his glass as he scans the room.

Finally.

His informant perches on a bar stool, waving at the bartender before looking over his shoulder. Their eyes meet through the swirls of smoke, and the informant dips his chin. Good. They haven’t been kept waiting all this time just for there to be nothing to hear.

Their eyes meet through the swirls of smoke, and the informant nods once; the barest dip of his chin. Good. Jason’s not sure what he would have done if he’d waited all this time, only for there to be nothing to hear.

He stands, ghosting gloved fingertips across Tim’s shoulders, straightening the strap of his dress—a slinky black number that emphasizes his hips and gives a tantalizing view of his fake tits. Jason has been resisting the urge to slip his hands, or his head, under it all night. “Hold on a minute, sweetheart. Daddy’s got some business to take care of.���

He nearly turns scarlet the moment the words leave his mouth. Why did he say that?

Tim doesn’t miss a beat, tilting his head back to peer at Jason through false lashes and sending another wave of jasmine perfume wafting under Jason’s nose. There’s a sharp, amused twinkle in his eyes. “It’s all work with you, Red,” he says, a pout on crimson lips. Jason wets his own unconsciously, stomach clenching. “When are we going to get to play?” Tim trails a long painted nail over Jason’s forearm, the slight scratch of it leaving behind a faint white line.

Jason swallows, as subtle as he can. The irony of Tim asking such a question is lost in the smoky tone of his voice. “Soon, baby,” he promises, voice rougher than he’d like. He can’t help but lean over and kiss him, right on that red-painted mouth. It’s not nearly enough. “Just let me take care of this, and then I’ll take you home.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Tim tells him—and it’s a little bit femme fatale, but mostly, it’s Tim himself speaking. His pink tongue darts out; wetting his lips like he needs one last taste of Jason.

Jason has to tear his eyes away, taking a fortifying drink of whiskey before passing his glass to Tim. “Finish that off for me, won’t you, baby?” He nods to his lieutenants, and then he’s off, still fighting the blush that threatens to take over his face.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Of all the things he could have said—

It’s all Tim’s fault. He’s been driving Jason crazy all night. Jason never should have complained about his nights at the lounge; then Tim wouldn’t have suggested this idea in the first place. But—well. Jason hadn’t seen how Tim playing as Hood’s arm candy could go wrong.

Big mistake.

He’d forgotten just how much effort Tim put into his undercover identities.

Or—

No, that wasn’t quite right.

Jason had been expecting Tim’s identity to cater to their audience. And in a way, it did. It was easy for them to dismiss him as a threat, association with Hood or no. The amount of conversations that had taken place right in front of him, as if he wasn’t even there, would be infuriating if it wasn’t playing right into their hands. But the appearance of the disguise…

That was tailored specifically to Jason.

Subtle makeup to soften his face; just enough padding to give him the illusion of curves. Small breasts, a black wig, just a bit longer than his natural hair—and jewelry to draw the eye from anything he couldn’t disguise. And—look, okay. Jason is biased. He thinks obsessive, 72 hours no sleep, wearing his rattiest clothes, caffeine-addled gremlin Tim is hot. This Tim? Dolled up in provocative outfits and sultry make-up? He’s a goner.

And Tim knows it. He walks a fine line, teasing just enough to work Jason up without also compromising his persona as Hood. It’s maddening… and hot as hell. Could anyone blame him, if maybe his brains were a bit addled? Or if maybe, just maybe, he wanted to turn the tables on Tim, even if just for a moment?

Jason doesn’t think so.

If Tim asks, Jason will tell him it was a slip of the tongue. He got too deep into the Hood headspace. Otherwise—they can just… forget about it. Pretend it never happened in the first place.

Yeah. That sounds good.

[d-eadeye]

The burnished shaft of his barrel is vertical to his hat's sweeping brim, muzzle cozied up nicely to its fine leather edge. The hand that wields it wears gloves in spite of its mechanical anatomy, tendons gently, tenderly, whirring beneath a streetlamp, @tormenther, 𐚁.

A nearby gutter chokes full-throatedly on the rain. "Well.." low voice is raked over the brusque coals of his throat, his every word guttural and matter-of-fact. "Lovely night fer courtin' a lady, otherwise. Couple'a candles, a nice big helping of steak and gravy, a fancy tablecloth.."

"Now I don't normally like to pose the 'big questions' on first dates, but.." Mechanical arm sweeps with abduction, red-lit joints reflecting oblong in the myriad of puddles at their feet. "Somethin' tells me you like when a man's upfront with you."

[lunaxamans]

{ Scenes That Need Writing #1 }

I need to write the scene where the first time Jake says something in Spanish-- because he's been trying to speak mostly in English with Emma-- it's kinda at length cause he's upset about something or was worried about her and then he stops mid-rant to go "I'm sorry-- I know you don't understand--" and she cuts him off and goes, "the language piece?" cause she's already pulled that from what he was going to say next and he deflates and goes, "yeah..." not realizing she's just read his mind and pre-empted him and then she lowers her voice to imitate him and puts on her best grumpy Jake impression, and repeats back everything he just said during his rant, in English perfectly down to the last syllable, and he's just kinda winded looking at her in shock like, "high school Spanish?" and she does the little shrug, rolls her lips in, and her dimples-- Dimple, and she shakes her head, saying In Baby, "no...psychic...I just...--read you..." and she starts to say, "thank you for worrying--" but big bubba is already rushing in to kiss her and stops her mid-sentence. And just cause I had a friend ask -- basically because she's telepathic and reading his mind, even though she doesn't speak Spanish herself, he does, and so since he knows what he's saying, she inherently knows what he's saying as well, as if automatically translating via psychic understanding.

[warraigoe]

i.

—  ❛❛  //  out.   ¦   i wish i was at disneyland. —  ❛❛  //  out.   ¦   i love you bitch !  ・ 「 promo ! 」 —  ❛❛  //  out.   ¦   ya got eggzama ?  ・ 「 prompts ! 」 —  ❛❛  //  out.   ¦   can i please get a waffle ?  ・ 「 temp ! 」 —  ❛❛  //  out.   ¦   look at all those chickens !  ・ 「 dc ! 」 —  ❛❛  //  out.   ¦   hi welcome to chilis !  ・ 「 dg ! 」 —  ❛❛  //  out.   ¦   a mugshot ? i don't even drink coffee !  ・ 「 images ! 」 —  ❛❛  //  out.   ¦   i had a great time when i was chikacret.  ・ 「 save ! 」 —  ❛❛  //  out.   ¦   this is a gays only event !  ・ 「 psa ! 」

[thef1diary]

𝐅𝟏 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 ‘𝟐𝟒

Strap in you filthy fuckers, I’m participating in kinktober this year. A total of 11 fics will be posted from October 1 - 31, specific dates and prompts are listed below:

Oct 1: Dreamy Desire | C. Leclerc ~ Somnophilia

Oct 4: Yes, Sir | L. Hamilton ~ Sir Kink

Oct 7: Guide Me | G. Russell ~ Guided Masturbation

Oct 10: Anytime, Anywhere | D. Ricciardo ~ Free Use

Oct 13: Fill Me Up | C. Sainz ~ Breeding Kink

Oct 16: Hot ‘n’ Cold | M. Verstappen - Temp Play

Oct 19: Sit On It | L. Norris ~ Cockwarming

Oct 22: Hands Full | O. Piastri ~ Nipple Play

Oct 25: Behave | P. Gasly ~ Spanking

Oct 28: Reflection | D. Ricciardo ~ Mirror Sex

Oct 31: Too Big | G. Russell ~ Size Kink

— have fun, stay filthy, and let me know if you’d like to be tagged for any of these fics. all kinktober fics will be tagged with #di’s kinky fics in case you want to block the tag.

[valved]

Tags !

[ ooc ] –⎔– general.

[ ooc ] –⎔– prompts.

[ medic ] –✚– general.

[ medic ] –✚– ic.

[ medic ] –✚– headcanon.

[ medic ] –✚– musing/aes.

[ medic ] –✚– visage.

[ biker ] –※– general.

[ biker ] –※– ic.

[ biker ] –※– headcanon.

[ biker ] –※– musing/aes.

[ biker ] –※– visage.

[ vet ] –✞– general.

[ vet ] –✞– ic.

[ vet ] –✞– headcanon.

[ vet ] –✞– musing/aes.

[ vet ] –✞– visage.

[neuvilette-tea-party]

｡ﾟ•┈୨ Le temps de guérir Part 2 ୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Steb x F!reader

Part 1

It's been 3 weeks sicne you Steb tried to kiss you and vanished without another word, leaving without any signs of life. You see him outside in the rain through your windows, lost with a large backpack. Where is he going?

Tags: pining, Steb definitely has guilt and PTSD, slow burn, forced proximity, movie night, domestic, tension, suggestive towards the end

Request open for Best boy Steb <3

You sip your fuming drink with delight, thunder rumbling and neverending rain hitting the glass while you read your novel, seated at the window of your small house. This is small, but it is yours. Squeezed between two larger buildings, ready to crumble, cramped but this it’s your nest. 

You turn the page with another sip as lightning tears the sky apart, prompting you to look outside, observing Piltover, destroyed but still standing. You lay your forehead against the glass, thinking about all the habitants whose houses have been destroyed during the battle and are sleeping in a shelter or on the streets tonight... You feel your throat tightening under your incapacity to help them all. 

What are you for as an enforcer if you can’t even help the population efficiently? 

The wounded population came back under control allowing you to volunteer to help the teams rebuild the city, leaving patient care to proper doctors and nurses. This week of groceries has been offered to you by a market gardener whom you helped rebuild the shop. You would have been content with a simple “thank you” and shaking hands, but free food is free food and you do not have the paycheck to pass such an offer. 

Your eyes travel your street, seeing the people walking hurriedly under the rain, with an umbrella or not. A stray cat rushes past the corner of the street to disappear farther into the tighter streets of the poorer neighborhoods of Piltover.  

Not that yours is rich by any measure... 

You sigh. You have not taken time to rest since the end of the war as you feel like there is still so much to do, making all your previous efforts and accomplishments feel... insignificant. Discouraged you let your head rest against the window, letting your gaze get lost... 

You frown, is that Steb in the street down there?  

You press yourself against the window and focus on the silhouette... That is definitely him! Why is he here? You have not seen him since that day he tried to kiss you and then... vanished.  

You’re relieved to see him in... arguably better health than when you dressed his wounds, but you feel a bit angry at him! 

He seems to be searching his way with a bag on his back... 

Without any second thought, you jump on your feet, running down your stairs to your door, and open it with difficulties against the wind. You run to him. His ears perk up at your steps and he turns to face you. 

“What in the seven hells are you doing alone in the rain like that, Steb?!” You shout for him to hear you over the thunder and the rain. 

He looks at you up and down in surprise and his gaze rapidly comes back to your face. His ears and cheek scales shake. You lower your eyes to look at yourself, realizing you left your house with almost nothing on your back: short pajamas, and a thin dressing gown. 

Neither are meant to sustain the rain. 

You growl and slap his arm for even looking, making him frown, offended. 

“Why are you out during your remission Steb? Why are you... Nevermind! Come here!” You grab his arm and pull him inside your little house, not leaving him the choice. 

You growl as you force your door close shut! Stupid old house! You sneeze hard, wet and cold, but inside! Steb remains still like a cone in the entrance, dripping on your carpet, but more warmly clothed in his Enforcer uniform.  

He looks around with polite curiosity, detailing the passed wallpaper; the old-style mirror, the shoes on the ground; the huge dresser taking place in the cramped entrance… He is almost too tall to stand straight inside. 

You sneeze again, prompting him to turn to you with worry in his gaze, but you’re the one who should be worried about this... IDIOT! You take his hand and pull him into the small living room, releasing him to pull a tissue out of a box, and sneeze once more. 

Steb takes some steps in the living room, observing the pictures on the wall, the small, cold open fire, the plants, the used sofa, the rickety bookcase, and the table with four chairs next to your kitchenette. Your little nest... 

“Steb...” You call, making him turn to you, “Where did you go wounded like that? I ran through all the camps of Piltover. You were nowhere to be found!” 

He lowers his gaze to the ground, his cheek scales waving once as he presses his lips tight. 

“I was worried sick!” You continue, “I thought... I thought you did something really stupid!” You feel your voice crack as tears build up behind your eyes realizing how truly mad you were at him! 

He raises his gaze back to you, filled with sorrow and regret. He hesitates and takes a step toward you, reaching out with his hand but you slap it away. 

“I am MAD at you Steb!” You grit your teeth. 

He lets his hand fall back to his side and you have a gut-wrenching feeling of deja vu. You pinch the bridge of your nose and take a deep breath. 

Calm down... 

“You have some explaining to do, Mister! But first...” You open a closet, rummage through it, and throw him a large towel that he expertly catches. “You will take a warm shower! You’re wet to the bone!” 

He cocks his head at you with a raised eyebrow before repeating his error of looking down. He immediately turns his head away, fins and ears vibrating, and a delicate rosy shade spreading on his cheek. 

You grumble and snap your fingers. 

“To the shower, Mister!” You order. 

He obediently nods and climbs the stairs to enter the bathroom. 

You lower your gaze and gasp in shock! 

The fabric leaves LITTLE to the imagination once wet! Thank the Gods you have undergaraments! 

You instinctively cover your breast, alone in your living room, seething with embarrassment! 

You take another towel and rush to your bedroom to wipe yourself dry and put on more modest clothes. You leave dry male clothes before the bathroom door for Steb to find. 

You go back down and put some milk on a low boil. When Steb reappears you are pouring the thick hot chocolate in two cups that you put on the small table. You stop dead in your tracks when you see him 

He looks 10 years younger in those relaxed clothes ... 

He looks at you interrogatively, pulling on the collar of the white shirt. 

“I think it’s my cousin’s.” You explain, trying to comfort him. 

Comfort him? What’s it to him if those clothes belong to one of your sex friends anyway?! You mentally berate yourself as he nods silently. 

“I put your bag on the Sofa.” You notify him, “Are the clothes okay with the gills?” You suddenly worry. 

He nods once more, approaching the chairs. You push a cup to him and you both sit down, holding your own cup, both pairs of eyes glued to the table. 

Embarassed. 

The memory of the missed kiss replays in both of your minds, putting you on edge. 

“Where did you go?” You finally ask, “I was terrified...” 

He blinks his third eyelid, clearly not proud of himself before signing. 

“The barracks? I did not have time to go there, indeed...” You nod, pressing your lips in a thin line. 

You’ve been running between patient beds for three weeks and then go straight to helping the construction teams, you did not even have time to take your own stuff from the barracks for your current leave. 

Your hands tense up around your cup. 

Steb just signed. 

He never signs for very short sentences... He always made an effort to speak despite the pain. 

But not this time. 

“Your wounds?” You inquire with a calm tone, but inside you shake like a leaf. 

You nod as he informs you they are almost completely healed up, it is only a matter of days now. He signs a thank you for dressing them. 

“Don’t mention it, you would have done the same for me.” You affably smile, “Where were you going at this hour under the rain, Steb?” 

He stands up to open his bag, taking out a folded sheet of paper that he hands you, sitting back down. 

“A shelter?” You raise your eyes to him, tension visible on your face, “Why would you need to go to a shelter?” 

His shoulders lower slightly before explaining. 

“Oh... No. Steb I am so sorry for your house... Is your family okay at least?”  

He blinks at you, interrogation in his eyes. 

“You spouse? Your siblings? Parents?” 

He shakes his head, moving his hands. 

“I... always thought you were married.” You admit, biting your lower lips as you feel a bit stupid. 

He gives you the same interrogative expression again. 

“I don’t know. You look like a man who has his life sorted out, I imagined you coming home to your family once the evening came...” 

He shrugs. 

Evidently, he came home to an empty house once his shift was done. Just like you... 

“And now that your leave has come, you cannot stay in the barracks...” You put two and two together, massaging one temple before sighing, “You should remain here. It’s a bit cramped for two but we should manage.” 

He immediately frowns and shakes his head. If you did not know him you would thought he took offense to your proposition, but knowing him he must worry about you first, a single woman inviting a simple colleague to live with her like that... 

“Steb, the shelters are full to the brim, aren’t properly heated, and have difficulties providing three meals a day right now. I am not letting you go back into the streets like that! I have a sofa bed, it’s not the high of luxury but I would feel better knowing you have a real roof over your head.” 

He gulps, not really on board but evaluating his options.  

“Plus you will need a workstation if you want to join the insurance for your house and shelters don’t have those.” You hammer home. 

He closes his eyes, like he is about to make a decision he will regret, looks back at you, and nods. 

“Great...” You nod weakly, “Good...” You finish your cup in one go and slam it on the table, “I need to grab something.” 

Steb silently observes you skirting the table and leaving the room as you rush up the stairs. You close the door of your bedroom and lay against it, pressing your hand against your eyes. 

‘The fuck are you doing, you idiot?’ you ask yourself. 

You reject him and then invite him to live at your place for a time? 

But you could not just leave him like that! What kind of friend would you be? You tap your cheeks repeatedly and take a big breath. 

It’s just for a short period, you rationalize! It’s gonna be weird but it will be short!  

You reenter the living room and discover Steb cleaning the cups in the sink. He turns to you as he hears your steps, wiping a cup with a dish towel. You look into each other’s eyes for several seconds before you both turn away, embarrassed.  

You feel your cheeks heating dangerously as his ear tips shake... 

“I’ll open the couch for you.” You clear your throat. 

You turn the screws for it to unfold but when you pull on the sits you pinch your skin between metal bars, making you yelp in pain and surprise. Your finger is now bleeding! You try to shake it to numb the pain but Steb arrives at your side, taking your hand gently in his to observe more closely. 

“I pinched my skin.” You explain, baffled by your clumsiness. 

He takes a box of band-aids out of his bag and you refrain from chuckling! You’ve been doing the exact same since you became an official Medic: boxes of band-aids in every bag and pocket! 

He wraps your finger cautiously and considers it for a small moment before raising it to his lips and gently kissing it like he would console a child. 

Like it just down on him, he takes your hand away hurriedly with a shocked expression, the rosy shade spreading again while you open your mouth slightly agape, a tight knot in your stomach. 

“Thanks, Steb...” You finally manage to speak “I... You can finish the bed while I cook us a quick meal? There are pillows and sheets in this closet.”  

He gulps and nods, releasing your hand entirely. 

You slightly tremble as you cut the vegetables, remembering his tall, half-naked body against yours under that tent...  The fire between your legs and the utter confusion in your head. 

He looked so lost... 

You shake your head. Steb was wounded and in shock and you were most likely the first person to extend your hand to him at that moment and he simply forgot himself!  

Your desires and silly dreams do not matter, you should focus on offering him a solid shoulder to lay against! His recovery should be your sole focus!  

You turn toward him with a wide smile and a voice full of enthusiasm! Too much to be honest... 

“I hope you are hungry!” 

He looks at you a bit confused as to where this sudden energy comes from all of a sudden! You pour your stew into two large plates, add a bowl of diced cheese, and one of chips, and bring the tray to the sofa bed. 

“Apparently this is a special soiree, they broadcast only old B horror movies tonight on the third channel! Tempted?” You ask Steb with a little grin and a beating heart.  

Steb cocks his head, interested. 

------------------------------------------------ 

The fire burns gently as you snack on the cheese, while Steb eats his stew slowly with small spoonfuls, watching the classics of the genre. He slowly relaxes, laying back, combing his fingers through his hair, and tilting his head to the curious creature's designs. You hand him the chips bowl, that he refuses, shaking his hand. 

“The remasters aren’t that good! For those results, they should let us enjoy the queerness of the originals!” You comment, making Steb slightly chuckle and nod in agreement.  

The movies are old but the grains have been forcefully smoothened and the restored sound rings bizarrely. 

Steb lays back, picking cheese dice from time to time, both focused on your old TV post. You comment from time to time at the absurdity of the scenarios, earning a chuckle from your former mentor. You realize he is a movie enthusiast and knows a lot about all those movies, telling you how they made that effect, why they chose this instrument for this scene, etc... 

At some point, you are more looking at him signing than the screen, kicking your feet with a smile, hypnotized by the Vastaya! It is pleasant and you cannot help yourself but look at his gorgeous face illuminated with amusement. 

Too lost in the enthusiasm your hands brush inadvertently when you try to pick some cheese.  

You both look at each other, frozen before you take off your hand while Steb looks a bit confounded. 

“Sorry.” You clear your throat. 

He gently shakes his head and resumes watching, stopping his info dump but ears shaking a bit. 

You focus hard on the movies, you cannot look at him, too embarrassed. 

You try to be relaxed but he is just so close to you, and each time he enters your vision you have a flash of his lips right above yours, patiently waiting to press them tenderly together. 

You craved it childishly for two whole years... 

You mentally slap yourself. 

The next movie is... an experience, that’s for sure. 

‘Creature from the Black Lagoon of the Shadow isles.’ 

That’s a mouthful. 

You’ve never seen the movie but Steb is familiar with the synopsis, it dates back to the very first Vastayas, when the rest of humanity was not prepared for them and looked at them with some fear and suspicion. 

In this one, a first-generation Aquatic Vastaya captures a woman after getting smitten with her.  

A B movie through and through.  

But Steb explains to you this movie was in fact created by a Vastaya ally and wanted to show them in a new light. 

Still with the baggage and bigotry of the times, you cannot help but notice as the creature appears for the first time... You Steb explains that it was a pioneer of the genre and Vastaya’s held it long likea conerstone of their movement for equality, and it is still dearly regarded in his community. 

“Do you still to watch it then? Since you already know it?” You ask. 

He nods frankly informing you that he never watched in its entirety before. 

You cringe several times at some dated and now offensive jokes but Steb just... starts laughing. You look at him hiding his mouth behind his hand as his shoulders shake, holding his side. He lets himself fall down on the sofa-bed as his chest trembles with clear laughter. You look at him curious before he starts to sign, his hands still shaking. 

“Oh, the design of the creature is wrong!” You understand, looking back at the weirdly shaped Manfish, “That much?” you turn to Steb again. 

He nods, trying to catch his breath with a deep sigh. 

“I mean, it’s true you do not look alike at all. You are way more elegant and-” You almost say handsome but bite your lips into silence before putting your foot in it! 

He raises his head, looking at you with the remnant of his laughterstill shaking his shoulders and questions in his blue eyes. 

“I didn’t say anything.” You pretend, ostensibly turning towards the TV post. 

He raises back in a sitting position, way more relaxed and jovial once again, his face much looser and with a tight mocking smile. He is way more interested in this movie than the other. You observe him with a side glance, how he shakes his head with playful disagreement, and how he giggly winces. 

At least one of you is pleased.  

You devour your chips bowl as more and more misadventures happen to the scientific crew researching the Fishman until he gets his hand on the woman. 

When he catches her in his cave, the ambiance changes drastically.  

Is it the change in the lighting, the way the actress crosses her legs in this tiny bikini, the music much more subdued and lascivious, but suddenly you are not watching a horror movie anymore... 

But a completely different genre! 

You clear your throat as the creature stands proud before the woman, towering like a predator over her. But she does not look frightened, she smiles, a cheeky grin, brushing her naked legs together suggestively as an oriental flute starts with slow percussions. 

What... What are you watching exactly? 

Steb tilts his head slowly to the side, as lost as you are as the Fisman approaches his victim, his hands gently parting her legs open and delicately caressing the skin from her ankles to her thighs. 

“Huuuuuuuuh...” You let out, a bit frightened by what you are seeing on your tv. 

The music picks up as the Vastaya plays with the hem of the bikini, letting it slap the skin of her stomach while she chuckles playfully. 

You frown more and more, petrified. Should you be watching that with Steb next to you? 

When did the transmission change from old duds to erotic tapes? The creature waves over the body of his partner, as she arches her back in an almost pornographic way, making you dig your nails into the small pillow you are holding, your breath escaping you. 

The Vastaya’s clawed hand brushes the neck of the woman who throws her head back, lowering to her breast, pulling the top, threatening to tear it apart like paper. 

You’re about to scream when the Fishman starts pulling the panties off but the post suddenly cuts to black. Your scream is blocked in your throat, wondering what just happened when you hear a quick respiration next to you. You turn your head to Steb who lowers his hand holding the remote, taking deep breathes, as confused as you are.  

His large chest rises up and down in an impressive fashion while his fins tremble, proof of inner turmoil and raging emotions. 

“Good idea, Steb. It is very late, we should be sleeping already!” You declare jumping on your feet to tidy up the plates and exit the room rapidly. 

You cannot look at each other, you would implode under the tension. You throw the plates in the sink and hurry to the door as quickly as you can. 

“Goodnight, Steb!” You throw, litteraly fleeing the scene.  

You run to the upper floor, putting as much distance between you two as you can before taking a deep breath at the top of the stairs. 

You will give it to the movie, they did sensual and intimate way better than a ton of pornographic content you had the occasion to consume!  

But it had to be this film! With these characters! With him next to you! 

You suddenly wonder if a deity just decided to play with your nerves and put you in situations for their own enjoyment. 

You sigh entering your bathroom to freshen up, splashing water to your face. When you reopen your eyes, you notice Steb’s uniform hanging in the back to dry. You approach to admire it, his higher rank plake shining on his chest with... medals?  

You squint, taking a closer look. 

Steb earned a medal for his actions during the battle, and while you will never take that away from him, you cannot help but admire the irony of the situation 

Steb the decorated hero is in the streets, without a roof over his head because his house was destroyed. 

You sniff, Piltover fell so low! It is infuriating! 

And dishonoring for him! 

You should keep your head on your shoulders and focus on helping him instead of dreaming like a child! 

That said, it was hard to keep the memory of that day under the tent at bay, knowing that the man of your dream in sleeping in your living room. 

Still feeling the ghost of his touch on your skin... 

------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Steb sighs deeply, trying to calm down the beating of his heart. 

He had to stop the movie, he could not watch a second more, not so close to you! It was beyond him! 

He often wondered why his parents always cut the film when he was around in his childhood. He does not wonder anymore, and he would have liked to discover it on his own and not pressed against your warm body, when each of his breaths is filled with your scent, getting to his head. 

He sighs again, wondering where all of his self-control went... He just loses it around you. 

He had time to think about his actions, about that day... 

He was not in his normal state and was desperately searching for a gentle hand. 

He found you. 

He berated himself a lot during those three weeks, he was convinced he deeply shocked you that day and that you were deeply angry at him for trespassing the limits of your relationship. Hr first thought it was shock speaking and he would have tried with anyone else. 

But 

But he caught himself thinking back at the softness of your skin in his hands, the plump of your parted lips he wanted to taste at least once... Memories of your training under his tutelage coming back to him, comforting his shaken heart full of doubt. 

At least you 

At least you were all right 

He did not lose everything in this senseless war. Someone was still at his side, even if you were mad at him.  

He buries his nose under the cover you provided him. This too smells just like you... 

It pierces his heart a million ways, but he likes it deep down. 

He brushes his cheek against the fabric, letting the scent invading his lungs gently... 

He closes his eyes, surrounded by your reassuring and warm presence, in some form of peace for the first time in weeks... 

☆TagList☆

@aecarstairs @wiltyard @sanktastuff @mahirublue @chocalycake @rositabluemoon @blackwoodwinter @archangel1206 @marshallowy @crimson23capricorn @m0na-lis4 @chjopchjop @editedjeans @joshuhaos @dulcecita-luzita @cyberneticfrk @nottherealamber @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching

[after-the-end-times]

Icy Roads, Full Hearts

For @steddieholidaydrabbles Prompt: Icy Roads ⛸️ Rating: G ⛸️ Words: 361 ⛸️Tags: Established Relationship, Married Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Future Fic, Domestic Fluff Ao3

“Oh, this is definitely gonna be a snow day tomorrow.” Steve says, peering out the front window.

“The rain finally turn to snow?”

“Nope. The temp’s dropped and it’s now freezing rain. The trees are already drooping. Gonna have to check for downed limbs in the morning and hope the power stays on through the night.”

“It’s pretty though!”

Steve smiles over at Eddie, before turning back to the window, “It’s as beautiful as it is destructive. Now we just wait, see what comes of the night.”

“Oooh, that’s good, baby. I’m using it in my next game and you can’t stop me! Mwahahaha!” He dramatically cackles as he runs off to write it down in his Ideas Notebook.

Steve laughs quietly and shakes his head fondly, as if he’d ever fight Eddie on using his rare moments of dramatics for his weekly stories. He can still hear Eddie repeating what he said in increasingly more dastardly voices down the hall in his crafting room, though.

“Ope, Eddie! The kids are aslee- Eh whatever, they’re used to it.”

He turns back and pulls the curtain aside to watch the rain continue to come down. Eddie’s right, it is pretty. For a moment he thinks about bundling up to go take some artsy photos of the glittering, wet branches catching the yellow light from the street lamps, but no, it’s way too cold and wet out. Plus, he can get prettier photos in the morning, when the sun is shining and he can see every line and branch under a layer of sparkling, clear ice.

Thinking of the ice covered world they’d wake up to in the morning, Steve suddenly has an idea; the street would be covered in a thick layer of solid ice and the salt trucks don’t get to their neighborhood until later in the day. He goes to their overflowing front closet to begin gathering coats and snowsuits, mittens and hats...and four pairs of skates.

The morning might bring broken branches and downed lines, but for their little family it was going to be a lovely, icy snow day full of laughter, adventure, and memories.

Steve couldn't wait

[tallsc]

Hello fellow QSMP Tumblr people, I would like to make a offer and would love to see if this can catch on.

If we're adopting A1, let's go all out. We're taking care of this kid.

At least three times a week, someone on Tumblr, under the "qsmp a1 tasks" tag, should draw or write something about A1 doing at least one of the official tasks for that day or the prior few days (cause I know it takes time to draw or write). It doesn't have to be huge, could be anything from a sketch to a full picture or comic, from a few sentences to a full short story, as long as it appears under the tag and has something to do with A1 and one of the recent tasks! (Please say somewhere what task you're doing and what day it was from.)

A1 doesn't mind what name you use - Ai, Aaron, Ivan, just A1, something else entirely - as long as you still use the right tag so everyone can see that there's been a task completed. They also use any pronouns and have a whole wardrobe of accessories, again as long as it's clear in the art or story that the egg is A1 and not one of the other eggs.

Feel free though to include yourself or your OCs or one of the QSMP members or none or all of them, this is just a series of writing/drawing prompts with a purpose, go wild and have fun!

Due to it being Saturday already, required tasks won't start until this Monday. After that, let's see how long we can keep our community's new kid going!

Updates account

If anyone would like to translate this into any of the other three languages, I will gladly add the translations to this post and credit you for doing so. I want to make this visible and accessible to as many people as possible.

Translations below (French by @lb1412, Portuguese by @aurora-bore-aura)

Portuguese:

Oi pessoal do QSMP Tumblr, eu queria fazer uma oferta e eu adoraria ver se isso irá se espalhar mais.

Se a gente tá adotando A1, vamos com tudo. A gente vai cuidar dessa criança.

Três vezes por semana pelo menos, alguém no Tumblr, na tag "qsmp a1 tasks", tem que postar um desenho ou escrever sobre A1 fazendo uma das tarefas oficiais daquele dia ou uns dias antes (porque eu sei que leva tempo pra fazer arte). Não precisa ser muito, pode ser um esboço(sketch) pra um desenho completo ou quadrinho, de algumas frases para uma pequena história completa. Que precisa é ao menos aparecer na tag e ter relação com A1 e as tarefas recentes! (Por favor diga em algum lugar que tarefa se tá fazendo e que dia foi ela)

A1 não tem preferência com o nome ou pronome que você usar — Ai, Aaron, Ivan, só A1, algum outro que se faça — desde que você ainda use a tag dita pra que todo mundo veja que tarefa foi feita. Além de liberdade de pronomes ele tem um armário cheio de acessórios, então por favor deixe claro em algum lugar da sua arte ou história que o ovo é o A1 e não um dos outros.

Sinta-se livre pra incluir você, ou um dos seus personagens, ou um dos membros do QSMP, ou ninguém, ou todo mundo acima. Isso aqui é só uma série de sinopses para desenhar/escrever com um propósito, se solta e se divirta!

Como já é sábado, as tarefas necessárias não vão aparecer até segunda-feira. Depois da revelação, vamos ver por quanto tempo podemos manter a nova criança da comunidade!

French:

Salut les fans du QSMP, j'ai une proposition à vous faire et j'adorerais voir si ça peut devenir concret.

Quitte à adopter A1, sortons le grand jeu. On va s'occuper de cet enfant.

Il faudrait qu'au moins trois fois par semaine, quelqu'un sur Tumblr dessine ou écrive quelque chose où A1 fait au moins l'une des tâches officielles du jour ou de l'un des jours précédents (parce que je sais que dessiner ou écrire, ça prend du temps), et le poste sur le tag "qsmp a1 tasks". Pas besoin de faire quelque chose d'y mettre énormément d'efforts, ça pourrait être n'importe quoi, d'un croquis à une illustration ou BD complète, de quelques phrases à une courte histoire complète, tant que c'est posté dans le tag et que ça a un lien avec A1 et l'une des tâches récentes ! (S'il vous plaît, notez quelque part de quelle tâche vous vous chargez et le jour auquel ça correspond.)

Peu importe quel nom vous utilisez pour A1 (Ai, Aaron, Ivan, juste A1, ou même un tout autre nom), cela ne lea dérange pas tant que vous utilisez le bon tag pour que tout le monde puisse voir qu'une tâche a été accomplie. Iel utilise n'importe quels pronoms et possède toute une galerie d'accessoires, tant, encore une fois, qu'il est clair dans le dessin ou l'histoire qu'il s'agit d'A1 et pas d'un autre œuf.

Sentez-vous libre de vous inclure vous, vos OCs, l'un des membres du QSMP, tous les membres, ou même aucun, ce ne sont qu'une série de prompts de dessin/d'écriture avec un but précis, faites-vous plaisir et amusez-vous bien !

Puisqu'on est déjà samedi, les tâches nécessaires ne compteront pas avant lundi. Après ça, essayons de voir combien de temps la communauté peut maintenir notre nouvel enfant en vie !

[liaromancewriter]

Perfect Day

Premise: When the leaves turn, it’s time for childhood fun.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine); feat. Max Valentine Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 930

A/N: I wanted to write this fic last Fall, but I couldn't seem to do it. It's not officially Autumn in my part of the world, yet, but this weekend feels like it as the temps drop. I'm using prompt 1 from @creativepromptsforwriting's Grumpy-Sunshine dialogue prompts. Tagging for reblog to @creativepromptfills

It was a perfect Fall day. Crisp air, a clear blue sky, the sun hanging low, casting a golden glow over the backyard blanketed with fallen leaves from the old oak tree. Their vibrant hues—reds, oranges, and yellows—created a kaleidoscope of color on the ground. Still more fell, raining down on the little girl captivated by the magic of the season.

Six-year-old Cassie Valentine turned her face up to the sky, arms spread wide as she spun in circles, laughing when errant leaves grazed her forehead before drifting to the soft ground.

Her twin brother Max whooped and hollered like a banshee, leaping into the largest pile. His maniacal laughter stood in stark contrast to her joyful giggles. The leaves crunched under his weight, releasing an earthy scent reminiscent of the changing seasons.

Not wanting to miss out on the fun, Cassie charged forward, sharing a mischievous glance with Max.

They leaped into the air together, seeming to float for a second, and then, with a soft whoosh, landed in the pile, leaves flying around them and their laughter echoing through the yard.

The crunch beneath them was satisfying, a symphony of fall, and they both giggled uncontrollably as they sank into the colorful mound. They took turns burying each other, tossing handfuls of colorful leaves into the air just to watch them flutter down like confetti.

Cassie lay on her back, flailing her arms as if making a leaf angel, while Max jumped from pile to pile. Eventually, he grew tired and flopped down beside her, his head resting against hers.

They lay there side by side, staring at the slowly darkening sky. The sound of rustling leaves in the gentle breeze and their steady breathing were the only things breaking the peaceful silence.

“Best day ever,” Max said with a grin, showing off the gap in his front teeth.

“Best season ever,” Cassie whispered, sighing in contentment.

At that moment, the world was just them, the leaves and the endless possibilities of a perfect autumn day.

Many years later…

There was no season quite like Fall, thought Cassie. And her adopted hometown of Boston was a sight to behold when the seasons changed and the leaves turned.

The city hummed quietly in the distance, but here in the wide expanse of Boston Common, the sounds were a symphony of children laughing, branches rustling in the wind, and squirrels scurrying from tree to tree.

The winding paths were blanked with a patchwork of Autumn hues—red, gold, amber. The ancient trees seemed to bow overhead, shaking loose leaves that drifted lazily to the ground.

Leaves crunched beneath her boots, a satisfying sound that reminded her of childhood pleasures and a time of innocence.

She glanced sideways at her husband, his brow furrowed in deep thought, her hand warm in his. A sudden idea sparked. Ethan Ramsey could use some fun.

Cassie tugged at his hand, ignoring his startled shout as she dragged him toward the piles of leaves scattered across the green.

Her eyes sparkled with laughter as she gathered handfuls of leaves and tossed them over his head. A red leaf stuck to his hair, and his exasperation was evident in the way he stared at her.

Cassie grinned mischievously, daring him with her eyes. Ethan slowly plucked the red leaf from his hair, almost nonchalantly, but his laser blue eyes glittered with challenge.

In one swift motion, Ethan bent down, scooped up a pile of leaves and tossed them in her direction.

“This means war,” he warned, his voice playful as he grabbed another handful.

Cassie shrugged, unfazed and tossed a ball of leaves straight at his face. “Bring it!”

Ethan shook his head, raising one hand in mock surrender. But with the other, he swiftly swung a handful of leaves toward her, like a pitcher letting a ball fly. Cassie squealed, trying to dodge the cascade of red, orange, and yellow foliage as it sailed toward her.

Her laughter echoed through the park as she darted behind a nearby tree, peeking around it with a grin. Ethan pursued, grabbing more leaves and flinging them toward her, the cool breeze carrying some of them away before they landed.

“You can do better than that, babe,” she teased, her eyes sparkling.

With a laugh, Ethan finally closed the gap between them, gently tackling her into a pile of leaves, collapsing into the soft mound, their cheeks flushed and hearts pounding from the spontaneous game.

They lay there for a moment, leaves tangled in their hair, the cool, damp earth pressing gently through their coats.

Cassie turned to Ethan, still breathless with laughter.

“For the record, I won,” she teased, nudging him playfully.

Ethan chuckled, shaking his head. “Looks like a draw from where I’m sitting—”

His words cut off as he sputtered, Cassie burying him under an armful of leaves.

“Now, I won for sure!” she declared, her voice triumphant.

Ethan smiled, his eyes softening as he pulled her toward him, his hands gently gripping her arms. In one smooth motion, he rolled her over, their faces inches apart, the world around them fading into the crisp autumn air.

“I think you're right,” he murmured, his voice low, “You’re definitely the only person I would do this for.”

He closed the distance between them, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that felt as natural as the falling leaves.

In that moment, there was no winning, no losing—just the two of them, lost in the magic of a perfect autumn day.

---------------

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @jerzwriter @justyourusualash

@lady-calypso @kyra75 @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect

@queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @snoopdogcone @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate

[raven-cincaide-words]

𝓡𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓷 𝓒𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓪𝓲𝓭𝓮'𝓼 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓴𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 2024

Hello and Welcome to Raven Cincaide's Kinktober 2024 prompt list.

This list is only for 18+ people! Not finding a list that fit my comfort level, I decided to create my own. Note that these prompts are just suggestions- they can be mix or matched between days, shuffled and adjusted to meet your needs. Feel free to use them and please tag me here or at @raven-cincaide so I can enjoy your smutty creations. Hope you have fun!

Day 1. Leather & Latex | Dirty Talk | Hunting You

Day 2. Roleplay | Threesome | Lingerie

Day 3. Titfucking | Uniforms | Beach Sex

Day 4. Hate Sex |  Costumes| Facesitting

Day 5. Jealousy Sex| Temp Play| Size Difference

Day 6. Overstimulation | Gags | Praise Kink

Day 7. Phone Sex | Spanking |Quickie

Day 8. Glory Hole | Birthday Sex | Virginity

Day 9. Non-con | Sex Toys | Edging

Day 10. Public Sex | Masturbation | Fingering

Day 11. Prostitution| Bondage | Cockwarming

Day 12. Breeding | Sex Pollen | Mirror Sex 

Day 13. Camming | Oral sex | Group Sex

Day 14. Brat-taming | Orgasm Denial | Cumplay

Day 15. Being recorded | Kidnapped | Massage

Day 16. NTR | Drunk Sex | Body Worship 

Day 17  Glory Hole| Formal Wear | Knife Play

Day 18.  Breath Play| Shower Sex| Getting Caught 

Day 19. Sensory Deprivation | Striptease| Pet Play

Day 20. Nipple play | Sexting | Vampires

Day 21. Humiliation or Degradation | Blindfolds | Dirty Talk 

Day 22. Werewolves | Leaving Marks | Hypnosis

Day 23. Scent Kink | Car Sex | Ridding

Day 24  Facesitting | Free Use | Morning Sex

Day 25. Foor Sex | Missionary | Tender Sex

Day 26. Exhibitionism or Voyeurism | Licking | Wedding night

Day 27. Striptease | Stockings | Power Play

Day 28. Shibari| Sexy board games | Food play

Day 29. Double Penetration | Begging | Thigh Riding 

Day 30. Clothed Sex | Hair Pulling | Semi-public or Being watched

Day 31: Pick And Choose

[lilypadlys]

Kinktober Day Three: Temperature Play

Ship: Sunshine/Aether

Notes: Prompt list by @kroas-adtam. Prompt list here

Tags: Temperature play, sex magick nipple play, hand jobs, trans Sunshine mention, praise kink

Word Count: 623

Read on AO3 or below the cut

Sunshine and boredom are two words that one should fear somehow ending up in the same sentence. Today is one such day where they unfortunately overlap. Well, maybe not so unfortunately for Aether as it turns out.

As soon as the quint collapses on the couch after returning from his infirmary shift, Sunshine bullies her way into his lap.

“Hey Sunbeam.” He murmurs into the top of her head. “What’s up?”

“I’m bored!” She announces cheerfully.

Aether snorts.

“I’m tired sweetpea.” He kisses the top of her head before pulling back to make eye contact. “I’m sure Lus would love to play with you. Phantom too; he was just complaining that he was dying from boredom.”

“Noo, want youuuu!” She whines, leaning into him. She presses her face into his neck and gives his collarbone a nip where his scrub top exposes it. “Let me play? You don’t have to do anything.”

He huffs to hide the groan that threatens to escape as her teeth and tongue trace his clavicle. “Alright…” He concedes finally; delaying his acquiescence only to disguise his own growing desire to see where this goes.

That’s all she needs to snake a hand under his shirt to start playing with his chest. She continues to mouth at his neck, occasionally nipping a little to watch dark red marks bloom under his gray skin. With her hand though, she does something a little different. She brings it towards Aether’s right nipple, ready to give it a teasing twist. Just before she does, she harnesses the air part of her elemental mix to turn her fingers much cooler than her normally feverish body temp. It’s not ice cold by any means but still unexpected. Aether flinches.

“Geez, you stick your hands in the freezer?”

She merely giggles, bringing her other hand, this time warmer than usual, under his shirt to toy with the other side.

“Ohh…” He chuffs, “Learned a new trick, did you?”

He lets her continue to play with his chest, shuddering every time her hands suddenly alternate temperature extremes. His eyes slip shut, just enjoying the sensation. That’s when she decides to grind her own growing hard on into Aether’s.

“Hhh…” His eyes fly open and she grins innocently before repeating the motion.

Disguising his arousal no longer, Aether can’t help up reach down to fiddle with the drawstrings of his scrub pants. Sunny frowns and knocks his hand away.

“Told you that you didn’t have to do anything. Let me.”

Undoing the strings, she straddles her legs and kneels on the couch cushions to let Aether lift his hips. When she’s pulled his pants and boxers down, waistbands tucked under his balls, they both settle back into the couch. Sunny finally gets a hand around Aether’s cock and he hums in relief. Only for the sound to turn into a hiss when her warm hand suddenly goes freezing.

He tries to move, buck his hips up or flinch away; he's not really sure. Sunshine just pins him best she can, leaning her whole weight into his chest. She keeps her hand on his dick, rubbing her thumb over the head just to make him squirm.

“Sunshine-”

“Shh, just relax. I’ll even let you cum if you sit patiently.”

Technically, Aether could dump the cheeky little ghoulette off his lap at any point. He doesn’t though; she has him wrapped around her little finger. And even as the cold stings, the slow strokes of her hand feel too good to make her stop.

As her other hand sneaks down to tickle at his balls with too warm fingers, Aether just sinks back into the couch and closes his eyes.

“There you go. That’s my good boy.” She coos.

[genderdenied]

★﹕ confisalus

pt: confisalus :end pt

★ ⌒⌒ ;; coined by ! me

‿‿⋆﹒⊹ ; for ↓↓

100 acronymchaos event .. !! day 7,, prompt trust ..

☆⌒⌒ ;; definition

; a term related to trusting (a) [x] to keep you safe orr finding comfort and safety in (a) [x] // [x] && trust, [x] && safety, etc

★﹕ affixes are con- && -alus

◟;; planning to coin voidalus, confreak && concharac

; IDs && plain text beloww

pt: confisalus. coined by me, for 100 acronymchaos event ( <- link ). Definition: a term related to trusting [x] to keep you safe or finding comfort and safety in [x] // [x] && trust, [x] && safety, etc

affixes are con- && -alus. Planning to coin voidalus, confreak && concharac :end pt

; ID: no spoons for one .. If anyone could make one for xim then gri would really appreciate it !! /nf /gen :end ID

; tagging: @radiomogai @liom-mogarchive @neopronouns @liom-archive <- ask to be removed <3 | @acronym-chaos ; myles almost ended up posting this on the 10th sgsusbsh this is v late BUT gri has never made a like term like this ?? do xe is pretty proud of grimself .. plus really like how the flag temp came out, xe hopes it's easy enough to use /genpos ( tho not necessary gri supposes ?? ) anyways xe plans to coin a void related term from this ++ some others bc it's a neat term that gri hasn't seen before ( evidently, else xe wouldn't have coined it hsbsh ) so yh !! anyways this whole event was really fun, && gri has some new terms for ximself plus others seem to have liked them !! So yh, great time :D ( also xe said this in the beginning but congrats on 100 !! yk whole reason for the event && such lol .. )

; ps. myles now knows nothing but cool sounding latin words for xes term names .. D: /hj /lh ( confido = trust in latin + salus = safety in latin so confisalus hshssv )

[sugdenlovesdingle]

Shamelessly promoting my fic because tumblr hides it from the tags again - Sunday

thanks for the tag @nancys-braids @carlos-in-glasses @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad

(I do have an actual fic snippet that I'll post later but I wanted to use/abuse this tag first)

my part of Lire's Carlos Whump birthday extravaganza

TK's first shift back after the ice storm doesn't go according to plan

Era: newly reunited boyfriends Tags/warnings: mention of blood and injuries, mention of explosions Prompt: TK on shift, Carlos off shift

---

“Morning.” Carlos said softly, smiling to himself as he watched TK rub the sleep from his eyes. He was still getting used to the fact he got to have this again. Got to wake up next to TK again every morning.

TK turned his head to look at him and tried his best to mirror the smile despite only just having woken up.

“Morning.” He mumbled and rolled over to kiss Carlos good morning. “You didn’t have to wake up with me on your day off.”

Carlos gave a one armed shrug.

“I wanted to. It’s your first shift back after… everything.”

“It’s just a half shift.” TK argued. “Cap wants me to take it easy for a few weeks. Start slow. Nancy isn’t happy about still having to work with a temp.” He sat up and tried to hide a yawn.

Carlos thought he looked absolutely adorable. He sat up too and pushed the covers off of himself.

“Come on, you get dressed, I’ll make us some breakfast.” He pressed a quick kiss to TK’s cheek and got up.

“You don’t have to make breakfast. I’ll just grab a coffee and a pastry on the way to work.”

“TK. I want to. Let me take care of you.” He knelt on the bed next to TK. “And besides, you’re not supposed to drink caffeine while you’re still recovering.” He grinned and kissed him again before getting back up.

“I have recovered. I’m fine.” TK tried to argue but Carlos ignored him and just made his way to the kitchen to start breakfast.

---

read the rest on AO3 or here on tumblr dot com

hopefully tumblr will let this show up in the tags for a change!

Open tag + tagging:

@lemonlyman-dotcom @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @oldfangirl81 @bonheur-cafe @chicgeekgirl89

@welcometololaland @your-catfish-friend

[tempfrangit]

temp. they/she/he. 30s. latine. 18+ blog.

MDNI - full grown adult who writes smut, generally darker stuff

you are responsible for what you read, and I try to tag everything accordingly. if something specific needs to be tagged, let me know and I will do so.

I write for a plethora of fandoms and enjoy stretching my writing muscles. sometimes my stories may seem repetitive, I know, you don’t have to tell me, I’m here for a good time, not a long one.

asks are open, if you'd like to drop a line. or throw me a prompt? ♡ฅ(ᐤˊ꒳ฅˋᐤ♪)

masterlist | posts i made | Ao3 | recs (scroll for a lovely time)

Recent Works:

it was always you - final chapter of what's a bad miracle? ex wife!reader x price, jan 25

good girl — ghost x reader, 1.3k, hybrid au inspired by @/dante-mightdie’s post

luck be a lady - barb howard x robert house, 3.8k, Alternatively titled: The World's Ending; Let's Fuck About It