Jason: fine, I’ll sleep in the manor
Bruce: *grins*
*the next morning*
Jason: *shoots up out of his bed, reaching for a gun, to the tune of the Chain playing at top volume throughout the entire manor* what the FUCK
Tim: *from one room over* dick’s home
Jason: that explains NOTHING
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A giggle is my answer, which leaves me none the wiser.
“John!”
Am I whining now?
The giggling continues for a while, and I sip my fizzy cava; at least I think it is the Spanish equivalent of champagne. I squint at the coffee table and to my delight there’s a wine cooler with a bottle in it. When I lift it, however, I realise it is almost empty.
“More in the fridge,” John informs me.
I rise to my feet and finds that the sitting room is spinning. My hand reach for the mantle and I’m able to grab it before I topple over.
“Are we inebriated?” I ask puzzled.
“Pissed,” John says dryly. “You in particular.”
He giggles again. It is one of my favourite sounds. I sigh happily and send him a broad smile.
When I stand in front of the fridge some seconds - or minutes? -later, I have no idea what I am doing there.
“John?” I inquire without elaborating.
“A new bottle,” he says.
“Of course!” I exclaim, both because of John’s ability to understand what I mean, and the epiphany on how to proceed.
I manage to open the bottle without too much spilling of the liquid. When I walk back to the sitting room, I lick the remnants of cava from my fingers.
“Christ, Sherlock,” John mumbles and flushes.
“What? I spilled some…oh…”
I feel my neck get warm, and it only increases when John licks his lips just so.
John gets aroused by…this…me sucking my fingers.
The deduction is crystal-clear, and pierces through my foggy brain, which has been only half awake. I ponder how to continue, but then John clears his throat and points at his empty glass.
“You’re not drinking that bottle all on your own,” he states with a hint of his captain’s voice.
I shiver and feel that my trousers tighten at images of John in fatigues parading through the flat.
“Give me that!”
Warm fingers stroke mine when John grabs the bottle from my hand. He pours the fizzy drink into both our glasses and gestures for me to sit down in my chair again.
Walking is made difficult by the protruding hardness between my legs. Somehow, I manage to seat myself and cross one leg over the other to conceal the discourteous bulge.
I take a large swig of my drink, which I instantly regret. Before I can swallow, I look over at John who has a predatory look in his eyes. Some of the cava trickles down my windpipe. I cough, splutter, and tears blur my vision. When I meet John’s eyes again, they are closer, and the look in them is concerned.
He is leaning over me, patting my back, asking if I am alright.
“Slightly miscalculation,” I respond and cough one last time.
“Clearly. On my part as well,” is John’s cryptical reply.
What does he mean?
The question is probably readable on my face because John just raises his eyebrows suggestively – you know very well what I mean, Sherlock.
I raise mine in turn – well, you have never looked at me like that, John.
“Oh, but I have, Sherlock,” he says huskily, “but you weren’t paying attention.”
His face has a smug expression, and I raise an eyebrow in silent query again – really?
When he bends down to claim my lips, I close my eyes and hold on to his shoulders to prevent me from dissolving into a puddle.
“Your lips,” he whispers, “your neck, your hands, your curls, your cheekbones, your voice, your broad chest, your bespoken shirts and suits, your legs, you.”
Each of his words is followed by a kiss to my lips, cheeks, and neck. His hot breath against my skin is intoxicating. I squirm; sitting has become unpleasant because of my insistent erection.
“John,” I pant, “I need to get up. My trousers are – “
“Tight,” he purrs and lets his eyes rest on my groin.
“Yes. Bedroom?”
“God, yes,” he says emphatically and pulls me up with his strong arms.
My mind fast forwarded the tedious proceedings of getting undressed. It had thankfully regained its alertness.
I instinctively know that our first time will be messy and quick; we are after all quite drunk. The second John aligns his hot and pulsing cock with mine, I see stars and pull him closer to slide against his slick hardness. I admit I am unsuccessful in this endeavour, so I take advantage of a large hand, and envelope us both, pulling and twisting until we both pant hard and come seconds apart.
“Are you awake, Sherlock?”
I’m not, but I manage to answer anyway.
“Only half of me,” I mumble.
My favourite sound - in my bed - almost wake me fully, but then a warm and damp cloth swipes over my belly, and I nearly fall back to sleep again.
“I should’ve known you’d leave the cleaning up to me,” he mutters.
“Problem?”
I am drowsy now. And sated. And warm. And…something else. It is hard to decipher in my half-awake state.
When John’s arms pull me to him and his lips place a soft kiss on my forehead, I know; I feel loved.
John’s words make me even surer: “sweet dreams, my love.”
“Love,” I murmur dreamily, “I like that. A lot. I will tell you more about it tomorrow.”
I fall asleep with the sound of John’s giggle in my ears.
Half awake rn but what is Higgs calling Sam Daddy in the final battle wasn’t just one of his weird kinky shit he does the whole game but a nod to his childhood. Cause like Sam his actively beating him up and Higgs like calling him daddy and then he pretends to be lous voice aswell like when Sam calls out “Lou” and he reply’s with “you okay daddy?”
Like to me it was a little deeper than just higgs obsession with Sam or some fan service but it felt like he was mocking Sam for being a father figure now since the only father figure Higgs had was abusive toward him
It seemed more mocking than sexual if i am being honest
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I originally wanted to draw the costume that is going to come out for Burning Spice but ended up honestly giving up and deciding to make a simplified redesign, I was going to do more and make a new color palette and such but decided against that caus’ I don’t honestly have the energy to do all that especially that originally before that I was just planning on drawing Burning Spice for the song “Step on up” by the Livingtombstone :] but I might explore ideas on personal designs or costumes for cookies in the future for fun, anywho I’ma either catch up on sleep or draw till I pass out :D buh bai-
I have 2 laptops, one at my desk for regular use and high end games that require a good Graphics Card, and one I use at my bed for low end games that take noting to run and movie watching and tumblr doom scrolling and youtube watching.
This morning I woke up to my cup of sweet tea that I FOOLISHLY left on my bed and it was tipped over ON my laptop. In a state of panic I THROW the covers off of me and tip it upside down thinking if there is any moisture left in it I can get that out at least, I run to the bathroom to get paper towels and when I look in the mirror I see some of my hair stuck to my face, upon closer examination the side of my head is wet.
Turns out, the cup spilled on me and rolled over my laptop. (My best guess.)
So yeah that's how my morning went today. 30 seconds of panic followed by 30 MINUTES of recovery haha.
