#fun fact: he's my favorite LI! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

riality-check · 9 months

Text

The eagerly awaited part 2 of the DILF!Steve concert saga is here!! Part 1, in case you missed it.

"You're not going."

"Come on! I haven't thrown up in an hour!"

"The drive to the venue is an hour and a half."

"Steve-"

"And if you throw up in my car-"

"Oh my God-"

"I'll kill you."

Steve doesn't need to see Dustin's eye roll in order to feel the full force of it through the phone.

"I'll just kill you. You'll have a headstone within the week that says Here Lies Dustin Henderson: Rightfully Murdered for Puking in Steve Harrington's Car," he continues as he packs Capri-Suns into the cooler for the car ride.

He doesn't remember ever being that thirsty as a kid, but if Anna wants strawberry kiwi, Anna gets strawberry kiwi. It helps that it's Steve's favorite flavor, too.

"I'd need a big ass headstone to fit all of that," Dustin snaps.

"Your big-ass ego would demand no less, shithead," Steve shoots back.

"Swear jar, Daddy!" Anna calls from her room, across the house because while she doesn't listen to Steve when he's right in front of her, she can hear him break the swear jar rule from halfway across the world.

He zips up the cooler, fishes a quarter out of his pocket, and throws it into the half-full soup can next to the stove.

(A quarter doesn't mean much, but Anna doesn't know that. The day Steve teaches that kid about inflation is the day his pockets become permanently empty.)

"Did she just swear jar you?" Dustin asks from over the phone.

"You baited me into it."

"I did no such thing."

Steve rolls his eyes. "You're not coming, though, are you?"

Dustin sighs, and, for all his teasing, Steve does genuinely feel bad. "I still feel like if I breathe wrong, I'll hurl, so, no. I don't think I'll manage the car ride, nevermind the actual show."

"Sorry dude."

"Don't be. Some dickhead will live stream the whole thing on Instagram, anyway. I'll live vicariously through them."

Steve snorts and picks up the cooler. He got Anna dressed beforehand, so it's just a matter of getting her to stop playing with whatever toy she dug up - Play-Doh has been the fixation of the week - in her room so they can go.

"Besides," Dustin continues, and Steve hates where this is going. "Anna loved the show, and you've got a reason-"

"Nope," Steve says, knocking on Anna's door. "Don't finish that sentence."

"All I'm saying-"

"I know what you're gong to say, which means you know my answer. I don't date."

Anna opens her door. From the little Steve can see inside, there are at least three containers of Play-Doh open and strewn across the floor. He thinks her Barbies are involved in it somehow.

"Time to go," Steve says, and he thinks, Please don't let there be Play-Doh in the Barbie hair.

"Five more minutes," Anna tries.

"Nope. Clean up and roll out."

"Hi, Anna," Dustin says through the phone.

"Uncle Dusty!" Anna shrieks, and she starts jumping up and down. "Are you comin', too?"

Dustin sighs, and Steve can't tell if it's at the nickname or if he's still cursing the universe. "No, but you and your dad have a great time, okay?"

"Can you, can you tell Daddy I should get five more minutes?"

Steve raises his eyebrows at her. Anna, to her credit, ignores him wonderfully.

"If you clean up," Dustin says, because he's actually Steve's favorite person right now, "you get to do more headbanging at the concert."

Anna gasps like Steve didn't already tell her that earlier today, and she gets to work on putting her toys away. Steve helps, of course, and he finds that there is, in fact, Play-Doh in two of her Barbies' hair.

Fun. They're going to turn into Buzzcut Barbies when Anna goes to sleep because he can already tell that they are the furthest thing from salvageable.

But that doesn't matter right now. What matters is getting Anna in the car, deploying the first two of many strawberry kiwi Capri Suns from the cooler, and making the drive to the venue, which Steve does with minimal road rage and accompanied by the Disney radio station.

Success by all metrics, really.

Dinner might as well be now, so Steve shells out a truly disgusting amount of money for overpriced chicken nuggets and fries at the venue. Anna will only eat half her portion but say she's hungry later, but that's what the snacks and water Steve smuggled in via his jacket are for.

They get to their seats, dinner finished up, just as the lights go down for the first opener. Steve looks to his left, half-expecting Eddie and his friends to be there before remembering that they won't be.

He tries not to feel too disappointed. He fails miserably.

The seat next to him, however, isn't empty. There's a note taped to the back of it, one addressed to Steve and Miss Anna, so Steve feels alright taking and opening it.

At the top, there's a messily scrawled phone number. Underneath, it says:

Here's my number. Probably a bad idea to call with all the noise. Texting works, though you should do that after the show. I'll be a little busy until then.

-Eddie

Steve puts the note in his pocket, puts Anna's ear defenders on, puts his own earplugs in, and looks at the stage, where-

Hang on.

He squints at the stage, where four guys have started playing a song that, frankly, sounds too much like literally all the music Steve listened to yesterday for him to care about all that much. The drummer is pretty small, with wild, curly hair. The bassist looks familiar. The lead singer, who is very talented but not to Steve's personal taste, also looks familiar. And the guitarist-

No way. No way in hell.

It's a total coincidence. Lots of guys have long, curly hair and heavy jewelry and big eyes and are wearing formal wear, for some reason, and catch Steve's eye, and-

"Thank you for such a great welcome!" the guitarist says, and his smile totally isn't doing anything to Steve, thanks very much.

Anna stops moving, where she's standing next to Steve, and climbs up into his lap to get a better look at the stage. She looks out, then back at Steve, then out, then back at Steve, making a face as confused as Steve feels.

Some days, he thinks he ended up with a clone, not a kid.

"I'll get off the mic in a second. I only do the talking because Jeff," the guitarist points at the lead singer, who ducks his head, "is really shy."

Jeff. That name is definitely relevant, but Steve is a permanent resident of denial.

"We fought about what song we were going to include next in our set list, so much so that we didn't decide until yesterday and had to consult a tiebreaker."

Okay, maybe Steve is a less permanent resident of denial than he thought.

"So, thank you to Miss Anna, who did great at headbanging for her first time-"

Anna whips around so fast, her forehead nearly collides with Steve's jaw.

"And to Steve, who's a big fan of American Psycho."

At the song name, the crowd loses their minds, and if Anna wasn't sitting right in front of him, Steve would join them.

Because what the fuck is happening right now?

His question isn't answered. In fact, about five more questions pop up in its stead when, during the bridge of the song, Jeff puts on a clear rain jacket and picks up a prop axe.

Please, God, don't let this traumatize my kid, Steve thinks.

Anna, thankfully, doesn't get scared. When Jeff brings the axe down, again and again, Steve's weirdo daughter fucking smiles. And giggles. It's kind of cute, actually.

When the song ends, she turns back to Steve.

"That's Eddie onstage," Steve says, and saying it, somehow, makes it real.

"I thought so!" Anna says, and she turns back to watch the show. Steve puts an arm around her waist so she doesn't fall off his lap when she bangs her head to the music.

The rest of the songs, in Steve's opinion, are better than the opening song. They're more melodic, which Steve can definitely get behind, and each of them has a gimmick onstage, all based off of various horror movies. It's ridiculous, but also really, really cool.

And Eddie, onstage, because it is the same guy who flirted with him and was so sweet to Anna yesterday, is really, really hot.

Steve has never had a thing for guitarists before. He's never had a thing for musicians before. Hell, until a year ago, he didn't realize he had a thing for men.

Eddie is. Uh. Yeah. Really doing it for him.

Steve doesn't know whether it's his enthusiasm, or the way he moves, or seeing his hair tied up, or the fucking dress pants and suspenders, or just his hands, but he does know he has to get himself in check because this is an all ages show and he's here with his daughter.

He already knows he can't add these songs to his grading playlist, not when they're accompanied by visuals of Eddie playing his guitar.

Sweet Jesus.

"Alright, that's our set!" Eddie says. "Thanks, y'all, for sticking around for us, and let's give it up for the next act!"

The crowd, including Anna and Steve, cheer as they exit and the lights go up.

Steve fishes his phone out of his pocket, fully intending to add Eddie's number to his contacts, and is greeted by not one, not two, but sixteen missed calls from Dustin Henderson.

Naturally, Steve calls him back. "Who died?"

"What the fuck?" Dustin yells, and Steve just puts the phone on speaker to save the rest of his hearing. "Did Eddie fucking Munson just personally thank you from the stage?"

"Swear jar, Uncle Dusty!" Anna says.

"Sorry," Dustin says. "But Steve. Answers. Now."

"How do you even-"

"Instagram live. Is Eddie the guy you were telling me about yesterday?"

Steve takes his phone off speaker. Prior experience tells him that this conversation has a less than zero chance of staying PG, nevermind PG-13.

"Yeah," Steve says. "He is."

"The one who flirted with you, and you forgot to ask for his number."

"Well, I have it now."

"What?" Dustin shrieks, and Steve is incredibly thankful that he didn't take his earplugs out.

"He left me his number on the seat."

"Text him."

"I was going to, until I saw that you called me sixteen times."

"Jesus Christ, Eddie Munson was flirting with you."

Steve rolls his eyes and hands a pack of gummy bears to Anna when she taps his arm. "He could have just been nice. I don't even know if he's into guys."

"Have you looked at him?"

"Wow, Dustybuns, I didn't know you were homophobic."

"I think it's the complete opposite of homophobic to try to get you laid."

"Hanging up!" Steve shouts because a part of him will never see Dustin as any older than thirteen, and no thirteen year old should ever say that.

"Text-"

Steve hangs up the call. "Can I have a gummy bear?"

"No," Anna says, mouth full, in her seat, legs swinging.

"I bought them."

She shrugs. "You gave them to me. Mine now."

Steve stares. She stares right back.

He sighs and opens a new pack of gummy bears.

With his mouth full of sweet Haribo corpses, Steve takes out the note and adds Eddie to his contacts. Before he can overthink it, he sends him a message:

I guess I don't have to ask you what you do for a living. Just so we're even on that front, I'm a teacher, and Anna's full time job is preschool.

He tucks his phone back into his pocket and focuses on making this a good experience for Anna, who somehow wormed her way into a conversation with the intimidating-looking couple sitting next to her.

Because it's totally not like a literal rockstar is going to text him back. Right?

Part 3!!

4K notes · View notes

81folklore · 9 months

Text

heaven - OP81 - part 2

pairings: oscar piastri x private!secret!reader (fc: gracie abrams)

summary: a very sweet softlaunch ends pretty quickly

authors notes: first of all a huge thank you to everyone who has liked, reblogged and taken the time to read my works it means so much to me and im so so grateful!! next, this is something i made at 1am so please bear with me😭. i am working on the lando and charles stories i PROMISE but i want them to be special and i currently have zero thoughts about where to take them so it might be a while🫣 also i almost finished this when tumblr DELETED IT?? i want to cry😁 ALSO i started this at like 1am and i cant be asked to do tweets rn so insta smau it is

part 1 part 3 masterlist

yourusername

liked by yourfriend2, user7 and 583 others

ahahah i love the beach and my friends

view comments

yourfriend2: dont be fooled she called me crying after the fourth photo bcs she lost 5 games of uno in a row

yourusername: i called you in confidence and this is how you repay me??

user6: its fine we know how emotional uno can get😁

yourusername: ??

user7: im so single hahahahhaa (im dying inside)

user10: is it confirmed that this is oscar?

user9: im not being funny but oscar doesnt even follow her so i think yous are just reaching

user10: …they have the same dog??

yourfriend6: might aswell post his face at this point

yourusername: leave me aloneeee im having fun!!

oscarpiastri

liked by clementnovalak, paularon_ and 93,357 others

second part of the season incoming 😁👊 (after a very competitive round of uno)

view comments

user7: ready to see you up on the podium🧡

user10: uno you say?

user3: right could they be more obvious😭

yourusername: its race week babyyy

*liked by oscarpiastri*

user17: literally what is happening why are all of the grid softlaunching😭

user8: and why does it always end in the hardest of launches

yourusername and oscarpiastri added to their stories

yourfriend2: 😭😭

yourusername: i am sick and tired i just want to POST him but softlaunches are so fun😔

yourfriend2: its really fun when everyone already knows?

yourusername: no but we are in too deep now☹️

user6: god you guys are insufferable

user23: JUST POST THE CUTE COUPLE PHOTOS ALREADY

user23: i lied please dont im so single it hurts

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 6,572 others

the world through my eyes☀️

view comments

oscarpiastri: i love you sososo much

oscarpiastri: my favorite person in the entire world

yourusername: ur literally my sunshine🫶

yourfriend1: god you make me SICK

yourusername: ..okay😁 oscarpiastri i love youuu🤭

landonorris: i hate people in love (you guys are very cute)

user10: THE NOTE OH

user18: THE HARDEST OF LAUNCHES HAPPENED

user7: he is her world oh my lord

user63: and the fact that hes her sunshine too😭😭

user63: literally crying myself to sleep

oscarpiastri

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 143,572 others

my happiness

view comments

yourusername: teheehee thats me🤭

yourusername: i LOVE YOUUU

yourusername: i didnt know you took photos of me like this☹️

oscarpiastri: of course your my favorite🧡

yourusername: oh could you get any cuter🫠

yourfriend4: thought you should know yn is currently jumping up and down and giggling while looking at this

user23: I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU NOT TO POST THESE?? I CANT HANDLE THIS??

user8: god really saw me sad and said ‘heres the happiest and best couple, wallow more’

user16: YOU GUYS ARE LITERALLY THE CUTEST?? THE NOTES?? THE POSTS??

user1: i cant stand people in love (i want to cry and drown in my tears)

yourusername: oh my god im so obsessed with you

oscarpiastri: i loooove youuu

oscarpiastri added to their story

yourusername: ahhhhh im so☹️

yourusername: osc☹️☹️ur literally the cutest thing to exist

yourusername: my boys🫶🫶

yoursusername: im so in love with you sunshine☀️

oscarpiastri: love you, thank you for showing me happiness🤍

#f1 instagram au #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #formula 1 insta au #formula 1 social media au #social media au #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #private!yn!oscar

2K notes · View notes

cyjammy · 4 months

Text

Vox and Alastor’s Dynamic is so FUN

Hazbin Hotel Season 1 Episode 2 Spoilers ahead!

I have to talk about Vox and Alastor’s “rivalry”. I love how Alastor just couldn’t care less, he’s witty, he’s emotionless and that makes him all the more powerful.

Well, not emotionless since he does express outward disgust towards anything digital, but the fact he can keep himself composed because he knows he is the shit and that’s what makes him my absolute favorite.

That showed through in the pilot and the show didn’t fail to deliver. I love how he’s handled. Viv’s characterization is wonderful.

Most fics I have read with Alastor have shown him as vunerable despite the story never alluding to that and it’s such a breath of fresh air to have canon content of Alastor being his authentic self.

My god do I love a character that’s strong and not swayed by emotion, but they can be handled well too. I.E. VOX oh my god. Every fanon had him pegged down as the victim to Val’s wrath, but he’s the mastermind behind the scenes. A complete subversion of everyone’s expectations. And that’s for another post I’m about to go crazy on, but I digress.

Vox is a man up in his ivory electronic tower with villainous intentions, but he falls short because of emotion!

Handling Velvet’s demands to get Val together? A quick pep talk with himself and he’s got it.

Addressing unforeseen circumstances with concerned sinners? Easy.

But Alastor?

He sees RED. He let Valentino have it when he even thought about going on a rampage over a sinner under his thumb.

When it comes to Alastor, Vox goes on a hate campaign and makes a fool of himself.

Meanwhile, Alastor was minding his business, and Vox couldn’t deal with that.

So much so he causes a blackout in the Wrath ring!

Why? Because of his rejection sensitivity.

He is this all powerful overlord with companions in his rule and when he asks someone of similar station to become his equal he gets rejected.

It’s unheard of for him. He cannot fathom it.

Because that makes Alastor a factor he cannot control.

Val says that Alastor “almost beat him”. Val may not have witnessed that fight and Vox spun it around to claim he came out on top.

But if he did, he definitely wouldn’t let Alastor get away.

Valentino and Vox have known each other for a long time, as shown in a photo in the background in the episode.

So either this spat began before they had met and Vox lied or Valentino witnessed it. I'm excited to see which way that goes.

In terms of influence, Alastor seems to win that battle. Vox is in charge of electrical currents and anything in the digital space.

Alastor is so far removed from that Vox has no influence over him. He refuses to be involved with new technology.

But with Vox having an army of sinners under his wing through subliminal messaging, he had security and power.

With Alastor’s return he brings CHARISMA and he’s doing it SO FUCKING WELL.

This is not a battle, it’s a slaughter, and Alastor is WINNING. With television there are so many ways to captivate a viewer but with radio all the host has is their voice and personality. It all has to be shown in a medium that doesn’t have many options for uniqueness.

Alastor defends himself with grace. He throws out compliments to his fellow overlords while still having it be a slight to the man who began the fight.

THE Vs ARE PREENING AT HIS PRAISE. THIS MAN IS GOATED.

It's night and day, but that's probably because Valentino and Velvet are tired of Vox's shit. I love this parallel so much!

Vox needed to be the person he was with Valentino at all times if this is a battle he wants to win, but he’s so bitter he will never see that.

He’s stubborn and that’s his main flaw.

And I fucking love it.

Alastor knows what he’s thinking and how to avoid it.

Always a step ahead. And their duet showcases that perfectly.

Alastor uses his opponent’s power against them, seeing the slanderous TV campaign and immediately going on air.

He does that in the pilot as well and seeing that this has become a habit for him is so fun to see.

Alastor is not to be messed with and I feel like people decided to gloss over that. But it’s so in your face you cannot deny it.

Alastor is TERRIFYING with a chilling deposition that will give you nightmares if you dare cross him.

Give him the respect he fucking deserves.

And the music and the visuals of the song — A whole fucking masterpiece.

I’m in love with their dynamic so far and I can’t wait to see where it goes.

So far Vox is the obsessed fanatic that couldn’t handle rejection.

There has to be more than that.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #Vox #Alastor #Hazbin hotel season 1 episode 2 #i love this show #it’s so good

748 notes · View notes

babydollmarauders · 5 months

Text

IN A BOX — TREVOR ZEGRAS AND JAMIE DRYSDALE

trevor zegras x fem!reader x jamie drysdale

12 DAYS OF KINKMAS

summary: in which Trevor and Jamie do the ‘dick in a box’ joke to their fuck buddy, leading to a threesome

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, threesome, oral (f and m receiving), p in v (unprotected), degradation. (2.7k words)

notes: welcome to day 9 of the 12 days of kinkmas! this is the first threesome i’ve ever written, and it features everyone’s favorite dynamic duck duo! this starts out jokey and it makes me laugh ngl.

i’ve never claimed i was smart.

if i were smart, i probably wouldn’t have started sleeping with two of my best friends.

i probably wouldn’t have agreed to their friends-with-benefits arrangement.

and i most certainly, wouldn’t have had my expectations so high when they claimed they had christmas gifts for me.

yet, here i am. sat on Trevor and Jamie’s couch for the past fifteen minutes, a rapidly cooling peppermint hot cocoa clutched in my hands, and a sneaking suspicion that they do not, in fact, have christmas gifts for me.

“guys, are you coming?” i shout in the direction of the stairs, my voice bouncing off the walls of the house.

i can hear Trevor’s wheezy laugh carry down the steps. a mischievous lilt hidden in.

“we will be soon!” he calls back and i huff, slumping further into the couch cushions.

my flight back home for the holidays is tomorrow, the 23rd, and the boys had claimed they have presents they want to give me before i leave. i arrived armed with gifts for each of them, and after they opened them, they had stated they just had to grab my presents from their rooms; but i’m beginning to think they’ve lied to me.

“okay, close your eyes!” i sigh out a ‘finally!’ at the sound of Jamie’s words, squeezing my eyes shut.

“are they closed?” Trevor snickers, sounding closer now.

“yes, Trevor! they’re closed!” i snap, covering my eyes for good measure.

i can hear their footsteps get closer, padding down the stairs and into the living room, before Jamie tells me i can open my eyes.

i’m immediately confused by the sight in front of me, bewildered at the two men clad only in flannel pajama pants. both hold a gift box in front of them, wide smiles on their faces.

“why are you shirtless?” i giggle, my brows threading together as they stand side by side in front of me.

“just open your gifts!” Jamie urges.

“we’ll hold them! you open them!” Trevor tells me. “at the same time! gotta open them at the same time! or else the other present will be spoiled.”

i raise an eyebrow at the hyper hockey player, but he just notions with his head for me to hurry up.

i set my hot cocoa to the side, the mug clanking against the top of the wooden side table beside the couch. i glare at them suspiciously as i scooch to the edge of the couch.

reaching forward with both hands, i pull the tops from the christmas paper lined boxes, only to find what i least expected. there, poking through holes cut in the sides of the boxes, were Trevor and Jamie’s dicks. both already hard, so i’m drawn to assume that’s what they were doing upstairs.

“oh my god!” i peer up at the boys with amusement, a wide, humorous smile on my face. “you guys did not just do the dick in a box gift gag to me.”

“what do you mean ‘gag’?” Trevor jokes, “these are your gifts.”

the hockey players stare down at me, and it’s only then that i clock the lust in their eyes, obviously determined to finish what they started by themselves in their rooms.

my tongue flicks across my bottom lip, wetness pooling in my panties at the thought of a threesome.

sure, i’ve slept with the both of them; but its always been at separate times. never together, despite my persistence to them that i would love to do it.

“well, i guess i should have some fun with my gifts then, right?” Trevor and Jamie smirk at my words, removing themselves from the boxes and leaving themselves untucked from their bottoms.

i let the gift box lids tumble to the floor, reaching both hands forward, to grasp one of them in each hand. i tug, my eyes flitting between them to gauge their reactions.

while Trevor bites his lip, letting out a muffled moan, Jamie’s head tilts back, his jaw going slack.

i continue my movements, slowly jerking the both of them off. getting more and more aroused by the sounds they let out, echoing throughout the downstairs of the house. and when i abruptly stop, both men’s eyes pop open, staring down at me.

“well, you can’t expect me to have fun like this, can you?” i tease them, my tone sultry and low, and just to show them exactly what i mean, i pull my sweater over my head; leaving me in nothing but my skirt and bra.

the two men make quick work of joining me on the couch, sitting on either side of me. Trevor’s hand grazes my neck as he pushes my hair off my shoulder, his head dipping down to attach his lips to my collarbone, suckling and leaving wet kisses up the column of my throat. whereas Jamie takes it upon himself to press his lips to mine. what starts out as lust driven and rushed, quickly turns into passion and need. the defenseman’s tongue runs over the seam of my lips, gaining entry when i part them and pushing his tongue against mine.

Trevor’s hand rests high up on my thigh, slowly inching his way up under my skirt, and it doesn’t take long for him to get even bolder; his fingers finding my clit through my soaked lace panties. his middle finger presses, rubbing me in circular motions, and a high pitched moan escapes my lips, muffled by Jamie’s.

as though coordinated, both men pull away from me, Jamie’s lips puffy and swollen. the tip of Trevor’s nose drags up my throat slowly, until he reaches my ear, his finger halting in its movements.

“you want this?” Jamie asks me, smirking as i nod my head and let out a choked whimper.

“then we need you to be a good girl and strip for us.” Trevor whispers in my ear, pairing his utterance with a roll of my earlobe between his lips.

he pulls away, both pairs of eyes settling on me as i rise from my seat. i unzip my skirt, letting it pool to the floor into a puddle of fabric at my feet, and they suck in a breath at the sight of my matching red lacy set.

“someone knew she was gonna get fucked today.”

i nod at Jamie’s words, bottom lip caught between my teeth as i unclip my bra, pushing the straps off my shoulders and allowing it to drop down to the floor. my nipples are stiff and peaked, the cold air doing nothing to help.

“i didn’t know i would get both of you today though.” i confess, a boost of confidence surging through me as the hockey players ogle my breasts.

“keep going, baby.” Trevor all but groans, watching intently as i begin to drag my panties down my legs, stepping out of them and leaving myself bare for them.

“i hardly think this is fair.” i huff, feigning a pout. “you guys still have your pants on and i’m here all naked for you.”

Jamie hops up from the couch, tugging his flannel pants from his legs, while Trevor merely lifts his hips and takes his off while sitting. both men look at me, seeking reassurance, and i nod.

“much better.”

Trevor grins, leaning forward to grip my by the waist and pulling me back onto the couch. he pushes me flat down, sprawling me out on the sofa, and guides my leg to hook over the back of the couch, leaving me open and vulnerable to his gaze.

my eyes flick to find Jamie, but rather than standing in the spot he once was, he now sits in the chair beside the couch. his hand grips around the base of his cock, squeezing gently to tease himself as he watches Trevor and i.

“let’s see if you taste as good as your cocoa.” Trevor smirks. i roll my eyes at the joke, laughing at his cheesy remark, but my giggles get caught in my throat when he bends down, licking a stripe up my core.

“fuck, Trevor.” i cry out, one hand flying to his head and burying itself in his fluffy dirty blonde hair, as the other fists the couch cushion beside my head.

Trevor chuckles lowly, repositioning himself before diving in like a man starved. his tongue laps at my arousal, my eyes squeezing shut at the feeling, and i can hear Jamie groan from his place near my head.

licking up, Trevor flicks his tongue against my clit, his hands holding my thighs apart to keep me from squeezing them around his head. his lips close around the nub of nerves, sucking it and rolling it between his lips, and i give a tug to his hair, a moan bubbling up my throat as my hips buck against him.

“yes! please, don’t stop!” i whimper, but rather than listen to my words, he chooses to release my clit, letting his tongue drag back down to my entrance.

continuing his assault against my cunt, Trevor brings his thumb to my clit, providing just enough pressure as he begins to rub.

my eyes roll back in my head, my back arching, and i can feel the pressure in my stomach growing; getting stronger and stronger the longer he continues.

“make her come, Z.” Jamie pipes up, “i wanna watch her let go.”

Trevor hums in agreement, the vibrations traveling from his tongue to my pussy. and with just a few more rubs of his thumb, and flicks of his tongue, my breath catches in my throat, my lack of oxygen quickly making me woozy and aiding in tipping me over the edge. i heave out a breath, mingled with a high pitched cry as my vision turns white, my legs shaking as i release on his tongue.

he doesn’t ease up, lapping at my wetness even after i come down from my climax. it’s only when i whine, pushing his head away, that he finally backs away, pushing himself up.

“i’d say she’s ready to be properly fucked, wouldn’t you Jimmy?” Trevor chuckles, staring down at me as i pant to catch my breath.

“yeah, i think i must agree, Trev.” Jamie sidles up to the couch, joining his best friend in watching me in my fucked out bliss. “i think she can take another one, don’t you?”

“i know she can.” Trevor confirms. taking ahold of my hands, Trevor helps me up, motioning for me to spin around. once i do so, Jamie nudges my back, forcing me onto all fours before he kneels behind me.

“can’t wait to have those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.” Trevor mutters, his thumb running along my bottom lip. “you think you can handle me fucking your face?”

i peer up at him through my lashes, working hard to focus my vision, as i can feel Jamie running his tip through my wetness. nodding my head, Trevor smiles down at me darkly.

“yeah, i know you can.”

gripping his cock, Trevor pushes the tip against my lips, urging me to open up for him, and i happily do so, relaxing my throat as he pushes in. it’s in this moment that Jamie thrusts in to the hilt, bottoming out inside of me, and i choke, my eyes rolling back as i adjust to the fullness.

“fuck, you feel like heaven.” Jamie grunts, pulling all the way out before he intrudes me once more, setting a quick pace. “so fucking tight, i could fuck you all day.”

i clench around him in acknowledgement, a groan falling from his lips at the feeling.

i can barely hear his grunt over the sounds of my gagging as Trevor thrusts into my face, his hands gripping the side of my head as he guides me. pulling out, i’m given a little reprieve, sucking in a deep breath as Trevor slaps my cheek with his cock, drool and pre-cum dripping down my chin.

“you’ve been wanting this for so long, haven’t you?” the forward mocks me, slipping himself back past my lips as i whine.

“you just wanna be filled, don’t you?” Jamie chimes in, “fucked thoroughly.”

i can’t respond, but i have the suspicion that’s how they want it, both laughing as i focus purely on pleasure.

i can feel myself sucking Jamie in every time he thrusts, my walls closing around him in effort to keep him there. his tip drags against my g-spot every time his hips snap, and i can feel the pressure in my stomach building itself back up. tying into knots as he quickens his pace.

his skin slaps against mine, and his hand spreads across my back, pushing down to get me to arch it, and i follow his lead. the new angle makes my toes curl, but i can’t focus too hard on it because i can feel Trevor’s dick begin to throb.

Trevor’s head tips back, a loud moan escaping him as he pulls back again, letting me breathe through my mouth for a moment rather than my nose, before he pushes my head back down.

“shit! i’m gonna come!” Trevor breathes out, and i relax my throat, hollowing out my cheeks as he pushes me until my nose makes contact with his abdomen, holding me there as his abs flex. his cock twitches just before he sighs, ropes of cums spurting in my mouth and down my throat.

pulling out of my mouth, he gazes back down at me.

“show it to me.” i open my mouth, allowing him to see his release, and he grips my cheeks, pulling my head up. drawing his head back, he spits, some making it into my mouth while rest splatters on my cheek. “now swallow.”

his hand slides down to my throat, feeling the muscles work as i gulp, swallowing it down.

“good girl.”

with Trevor finished, Jamie takes this as his time to alter our position. shooing away his teammates hand, Jamie replaces Trevor’s grip on my throat with his own, pulling me up until my back is flat against his chest.

his hips buck, fucking himself up into me at a hard and fast pace, making my legs shake. his other hand finds my pearl, rubbing as he thrusts.

“that’s it. take this dick like a good girl.” Jamie whispers, his lips ghosting the shell of my ear, and it’s the combination of those words and his fingers circling my clit, that set me off, clenching around him as i reach my orgasm.

tears roll down my cheeks at the pleasure, my breath hitching once more as i come on his cock.

“fuck, squeezing me so tight, i’m gonna come.” Jack curses, making me clench around him again, spurring on his own release. he continues fucking me through our orgasms, causing chills to run down my spine.

releasing his hold on me, i flop down onto my back on the couch, catching my breath as the boys on either side of the couch do the same.

it’s silent in the room, nothing but the sound of heavy breathing, until Jamie speaks up.

“so remind me, why have we never done this before?”

Trevor and i let out shallow laughter, the defenseman joining us when he finally caught his breath.

“so…” i trail off, gaining the attention of both boys.

“you can use my shower.” Trevor tells me, and i nod. but when i make no move to get up, they both furrow their brows at me.

“give a girl a second!” i huff, “i think my legs are jello.”

at my words, both hockey players smirk, Trevor lifting his hand in the air for Jamie to fist bump.

once we’ve all three recovered, taken quick showers, and Jamie has remade my now long having gone cold cocoa; we rejoin on the couch, a blanket draped over the trio of us.

“what do we wanna watch?” Trevor questions, the remote clutched in his hand.

“a christmas movie.” i state, as though it’s obvious.

“Elf?” Jamie suggests, and i nod, Trevor already finding it on a streaming service.

about 20 minutes into the movie, i curl my legs up, cuddling into Jamie’s shoulder while Trevor’s hand grips my foot in a calming manner.

they both glance over at me, but upon seeing my still open eyes, immediately look back at the tv. Jamie repositions us, his arm now around me while my head lays on his chest, and despite my hardest attempts, my eyes flutter shut not long later. my breathing evening out as i fall asleep.

#faithlynn’s 12 days of kinkmas #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x reader #trevor zegras imagine #jamie drysdale imagine #trevor zegras fic #jamie drysdale fic #trevor zegras blurb #jamie drysdale blurb #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl smut #anaheim ducks #faithlynn’s writings <3

491 notes · View notes

cobragardens · 8 months

Text

My Favorite Good Omens Moment:

An Essay on Why It Is Cool and Rad (Part 1)

There's this moment in Good Omens that makes me cackle every time I see it and leaves me full of warmth, so here's an essay on its context and meaning, because explication and analysis are how I show love. I will try to keep my thoughts as tight as possible, but they do have a tendency to spiral outwards, and I am very stoned. Come, sistren, and get nerdy with me.

My favorite moment in the series so far occurs in 1601. To approach it we will first need an assload of context. There's a TL;DR in bold at the end of the Context if you don't fancy reading the whole assload. Key arguments are in italics and bold throughout.

David Tennant gives Crowley a very consistent facial expression every time Aziraphale says something so outlandish Crowley can't quite believe he's hearing it. It's this one:

Chronologically, we see the Eyebrows of Disbelief twice before my fave moment in 1601: once (above left) in that scene on the Garden Wall that familiarizes the audience with Crowley's face before adding the dark glasses, when Aziraphale admits he's given away his sword; once when Aziraphale tells Bildad the Shuhite that he, Aziraphale, has Fallen because he lied to the angels to save Job's children.

The Eyebows of Disbelief always signal surprise and amusement with something Aziraphale has said or done. This amusement is sometimes at Aziraphale's expense and sometimes not.

In the gifs above, Crowley is laughing because what Aziraphale has just admitted to doing is fantastic and unexpected and frankly pretty gd punk rock. He's not laughing at Aziraphale, he's laughing because he is delighted with him. The only record we have thus far of Crowley laughing at Aziraphale is this one:

Crowley laughs when Aziraphale informs him--him, a demon who has personally been through the process of Falling--that Aziraphale is Fallen and must be a demon now. As though of the two of them Aziraphale is the expert on how and under what circumstances this occurs.

And yet when Crowley sees Aziraphale's distress--not his fear of being taken to Hell, but his heartbreak and lostness over the fact that his conscience has diverged from God's stated will--Crowley stops laughing, and instead he acts very kindly towards Aziraphale. He validates the gravity of what Aziraphale has done and assures him he won't turn him in. He sits with him so Aziraphale isn't totally alone (like Crowley probably was) as he goes through the loneliest moments of his existence to that point and picks himself up newly weighted with the secret he must now bear.

And after this scene (in canon as it stands thus far), we don't see Crowley laugh at anything Aziraphale says or does again.

And he really has to work for it sometimes. We talk a lot about the things Michael Sheen is able to convey with his face in Good Omens, and absolutely rightly so; David Tennant earns a chunk of his paycheck in this regard as well. If you haven't given yourself the treat yet, rewatch the scene in Will Goldstone's magic shop in 1941 and focus on Crowley's reactions:

youtube

Tennant takes great care to show, with precision, that Crowley is expending effort not to react to Aziraphale's nervous chaos Muppetry and lack of self-awareness. Crowley is self- and socially and contextually aware enough that he knows (better than Aziraphale, at least, which is not a high bar to clear) what's cringe, what's funny, what's ridiculous, how to behave. But whenever Aziraphale crosses a boundary of normalcy, or even sanity, and there is opportunity to laugh at him, Crowley very carefully doesn't react. He doesn't interrupt him, he doesn't try to correct him, he doesn't make fun of him, he doesn't even smirk; he just watches him, as stone-faced as he can manage, no matter how bizarre Aziraphale becomes.

We should be reading this lack of reaction to Aziraphale's social and rational transgressions as powerful positive action. Go watch the Doctor Who episode "Human Nature," or literally any episode of The Inbetweeners, or read or watch Regeneration, and reflect on what it shows you about English masculinity; then consider again the depth of significance in how English- and male-coded character Crowley treats English- and male-coded character Aziraphale in an England created by an English and male-codedpresenting author based off a book written by himself and another male-presenting author. Within its context of English masculinity, Crowley's lack of reaction is not a neutral stance; it is a very fucking loud show of support.

This is not even an inference; it's stated outright in the show. Crowley himself puts it into words 422 years after my favorite moment:

You know how Crowley calls Aziraphale "angel" because the factuality of the descriptor offers him plausible deniability to any Heavenly or Infernal agents who might be listening? Remember how Crowley is a great equivocator? Crowley is equivocating here, too: he's using the cover of what Maggie and Nina will take as a disparaging joke at Aziraphale's expense in order to make a perfectly sincere statement. This is his genuine perception of one of the relationship dynamics he has with Aziraphale and how he feels about that dynamic. Crowley thinks he himself is quite witty (an accurate assessment), Crowley thinks Aziraphale isn't sufficiently self- or contextually aware to hide how strange he is and therefore frequently says and does mad things (also an accurate assessment), and Crowley is Into. That. Shit.

Okay. Now let's look at 1601.

Chronologically it's been almost 1,000 years since we last saw Aziraphale and Crowley. In 537, Aziraphale isn't willing even to consider a labor-saving working arrangement with Crowley of fucking off home out of the damp of Arthurian Wessex; but by 1601, he's worked (and met, and Arranged) with Crowley "dozens of times now," Crowley says, and Azirapahle does not correct him.

In that millienium, Aziraphale has grown to care deeply about Crowley:

In fact he may be somewhat smitten with him:

Seriously, go back and watch Aziraphale here as Crowley approaches and starts speaking to him: he doesn't start smiling until he recognizes that the person speaking to him is Crowley (but he only smiles at Crowley while Crowley's not looking at him).

And Crowley is definitely become smitten with Aziraphale:

Our man(-shaped entity) is so allergic to work he sets up a meeting to weasel, cajole, or (as it happens) cheat a coin toss to get Aziraphale to do an easy temptation for him in Edinburgh, and then in the same conversation agrees to miracle a play into success because Aziraphale gives him a single hopeful look. Crowley's got it bad.

TL;DR: The Eyebrows of Disbelief happen when Crowley is surprised and amused by something Aziraphale has said or done. Sometimes that amusement is delight with Aziraphale; sometimes it is at Aziraphale's expense. Crowley is aware of this distinction, and when his amusement is at Aziraphale's expense, he suppresses it, even when it takes some effort on his own part, and remains stocially composed. This is equivocation on his part: to Celestial/Infernal operatives lacking knowledge of the intricacies of human behavior, this non-reaction would seem like neutrality; to Aziraphale, who shares with Crowley and the audience the contextual knowledge of English masculinity's utter viciousness, this non-reaction is a profound show of support; and in the safety of support from Crowley, Aziraphale lets his weirdness blossom.

As another meta points out [link if I find it again], we also see in Aziraphale's wordless request about Hamlet and Crowley's immediate understanding of it that by 1601 Aziraphale and Crowley have developed an unspoken, coded method of communication with each other.

Now that we have all of that in mind, here's my favorite moment in Good Omens:

Ixi of Fuck Yeah Good Omens has even kindly archived a closeup of the aftermath, for Crowley, of "Buck up!" In gif 4, above, you can see that the tiny smile is an involuntary reaction that happens as Crowley's eyes widen: for a fraction of a second, he's caught off-guard. In the closeup it's easier to see that he suppresses the smile and gives a tiny shake of his head, Eyebrows of Disbelief heading for his hairline.

There are a number of things Crowley's reaction could mean and what messages it could communicate (we'll get to that in a sec), but regardless, his reaction is, unquestionably, one of surprise and suppressed amusement. This is an aspect of Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship and characters that I like very much, viz., that one of the reasons Crowley likes Aziraphale (though Aziraphale is judgy and occasionally, unintentionally, horrifyingly cruel) is that in addition to being one of the kindest and most courageous beings in existence, Aziraphale is mad as a bag of frogs. Crowley does not know what is going to come out of Aziraphale's lovely mouth next, but Crowley does know there's a good chance he will struggle to believe he's hearing it, and Crowley likes that.

That's what makes this my favorite moment. What makes this moment so cool and rad, though, is its ineffability. We know from the Eyebrows of Disbelief that Crowley is surprised and amused, but any of several things could be read in that almost imperceptible headshake. Like:

What are you doing? or

Why are you like this? or

How can you be aware that you say these things out loud and yet still say them out loud? or

How has my existence come to this? this moment of listening to such insanity?

each of which is a fair and just feeling to have/message to communicate to a man(-shaped entity) who is yelling "Buck up!" at Hamlet.

But that's only if we read Crowley's amusement as being at Aziraphale's expense. And I don't think we should. Because watch Aziraphale here:

He's doing it on purpose. He is shouting a hilariously inappropriate, 100% authentic Aziraphale-brand thing over arguably the gloomiest passage of Shakespeare's famously gloomy play--right after Crowley complains about its gloominess--and he is watching Crowley as he does it. Look at his smile! He knows he's being Deeply Uncool, and he is doing it literally right into Crowley's face.

Remember that we just talked about how by this point in the chronology Crowley and Aziraphale have learned to communicate with each other nonverbally through facial expression? So what does it mean when Aziraphale responds to Crowley's grumbling about Hamlet's gloominess by smiling his minxious Mona Lisa Aziraphale smile, looking right into Crowley's face, and yelling at Hamlet to buck up? Aziraphale, in a carefully coded, carefully Aziraphale way, is joking with Crowley. His silliness in this moment is for Crowley.

So with aaaaaaallllll of this essay in mind, what does it mean that Crowley's reaction to "Come on, Hamlet! Buck up!" is widening eyes, an involuntary twitch of his mouth toward a smile, and then, his eyebrows still showing surprise and amusement, a tiny shake of his head?

Once more, with inferences:

I do propose, y'all, on the basis of this web of evidence I submit for consideration, that what we are seeing here in my favorite moment of Good Omens is the ineffable equivalent of Aziraphale and Crowley sharing a laugh.

Crowley's amusement here isn't at Aziraphale, because Aziraphale is eliciting that amusement consciously and deliberately. Aziraphale, in good spirits and happy to see Crowley, uses his Aziraphaleness to offers Crowley not only an opportunity for amusement, but the opportunity to be in agreement with him about what in this situation is funny. They're on the same side of this joke.

And his humor lands just as he wants it to: Crowley, just for a moment, is caught off-guard, and tickled--

But remember, Crowley is worried in this scene about being surveilled ("I thought you said we'd be inconspicuous here"), and he worries about audio surveillance a lot ("Walls have ears"; "Don't say that. If my lot hear [etc.]," etc.), so he's very limited in what reactions he can show or voice. Aziraphale knows Crowley must be perceived by anyone watching or listening to disapprove of his, Aziraphale's, behavior (just as he must be perceived to disapprove vociferously of Crowley's). Both of them know this.

--so Crowley suppresses the smile almost successfully, and shakes his head at Aziraphale, minutely, to say Stop. What you're doing is working, you're close to making me laugh, and if I show how much you have just delighted me, it will blow our cover of "just an Arrangement."

I offer three final data points in advancing my argument that what we see in my favorite Good Omens moment is Aziraphale successfully attempting to joke with Crowley and Crowley recognizing that overture from Aziraphale and being momentarily surprised into a reaction of genuine delight before pulling his face back under control and indicating to Aziraphale that he must stop:

Datum 1. Nothing going on with Crowley's face in this moment is accidental. We know for sure we're not seeing David Tennant react to Michael Sheen here not only because of literally every other point of Tennant's and Sheen's performances in the show, but because Tennant is wearing opaque contacts and sunglasses under film lighting and therefore cannot be reacting to anything more compelling than a level-10-lift blur because Tennant cannot see shit. Crowley's reaction is a deliberate and careful performance choice on Tennant's part, and it's underscored by director Douglas Mackinnon's choice to film Tennant in 1/2 profile to keep Crowley's eyes visible and face readable to the audience. This reaction is supposed to be there and supposed to be meaningful.

Datum 2. The husbands in 1601 is not the only moment in Good Omens when we may be seeing an angel and a demon communicate the message Stop doing that, it makes us look too familiar between themselves with a little headshake:

Datum 3: There is another moment in Good Omens when Aziraphale offers Crowley the opportunity to enjoy a joke with him. There, too, his humor lands just as he intends, so we can use this other moment as a comparison to our 1601 moment. I don't have gifs for it, but go back and watch it, S1E6 49:27-42. Snips below.

Aziraphale says something that surprises and amuses Crowley (he asked Hell for a rubber duck while he was sloshing around in the holy water)--

--but what Aziraphale says makes Crowley smile long before it makes him laugh.

In fact, his laugh, though a genuine cackle, is quite delayed, and he laughs only after Aziraphale starts laughing too.

In other words, Crowley's reaction to Aziraphale offering him amusement they're both on the same side of is exactly the same as his reaction to "Come on, Hamlet! Buck up!" right up until he laughs instead of shaking his head. Here, after Armageddidn't, Crowley doesn't have to suppress his reaction, so he can let the smile bloom; he doesn't have to control his response, so, although it takes him a few extra seconds, he lets the smile turn into a laugh.

But in 1601, it's not safe to laugh at Aziraphale's humor. It's not safe even to smile at him. A single piece of evidence or eye/earwitness testimony that he and Crowley have anything more friendly than the most passing and acrimonious of professional relationships could mean death to either or both of them, and depending on what Falling is like, maybe something worse than death for Aziraphale.

But Aziraphale is so funny, so effervescent for Crowley, at Crowley, that it catches Crowley just for a moment. Crowley's eyes widen and the corner of his mouth twitches toward a smile.

And that's dangerous. If Aziraphale keeps acting so charmingly mad, Crowley is going to laugh, and they can't afford that risk, so he shakes his head at Aziraphale. Stop, or I won't be able to keep a straight face around you.

And Aziraphale apparently receives that message, because he immediately eases off. Less than 60 seconds later we learn that he's deeply concerned for Crowley's safety--and that it's not so much that Aziraphale has Crowley wrapped around his little finger as it is that Crowley has wrapped himself around Aziraphale's little finger like a snake arranging itself on the tree branch it calls home.

UPDATE 14/10/23: HOLY SHIT Y'ALL IT GETS EVEN BETTER! THERE IS A SEQUEL!

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens 1601 #good omens microexpressions #good omens headshake #angelfish #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #good omens fanalysis

1K notes · View notes

itadorey · 11 months

Text

𝐣𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 .:**:.☆*.:｡.✿

━━━ fushiguro megumi

◉ [9:33 pm] ◉ apple of my eye -> six times megumi gets caught staring at you and the one time you get caught staring at him. ◉ [4:32 p.m.]

━━━ gojo satoru

◉ great company -> shoko lets something slip to gojo and nanami loses a whole lot of money. ◉ keeping the moon -> you contemplate gojo's existence on a roof, at night, alone (or so you think). ◉ it's gotta be fate! -> in which you argue with the school's golden boy (in your defense, you didn't know!) and then find yourself unable to avoid him no matter where you go. -> fun facts about the story! ◉ the man of your dreams -> in an attempt to distract gojo, yaga sends him on a quest to locate you; a missing member of the zenin clan with prophetic dreams. ◉ so young -> becoming a jujutsu sorcerer was never part of your plans, and neither was falling in love with gojo satoru. ◉ [4:35 pm] ◉ playing pretend -> gojo lies to shoko in order to win a bet and you're dragged along for the ride. ◉ the lesser of two (presumed) evils -> faced with the risk of your clan being dissolved, you're forced to choose a husband. you take a risk and settle on what you think is the lesser of two evils. (he's really not that bad once you get to know him). ◉ the road to falling in love -> a collection of moment where gojo finds himself falling harder and harder for you. (prequel to the lesser of two (presumed) evils). ◉ wingman for hire -> gojo offers to help you get the attention of your crush, but things don't turn out the way either of you expect ◉ [8:53 p.m.] ◉ lovestained -> you make out with gojo! ◉ you lookin'? -> (nsfw) gojo just wants to spice things up in the bedroom and make you feel good. ◉ [10:45 p.m.] ◉ the linkedin incident -> you get hit on by the cute barista at your favorite cafe and gojo simultaneously thinks it's awful but funny. ◉ bite of the night -> you just want to enjoy your halloween night, but vampire hunting always gets in the way. this night might be different though. ◉ the good (you), the bad (megumi), and the ugly (gojo) -> gojo takes you to meet megumi, only to end up regretting it when the younger boy immediately takes a liking to you. ◉ photographs & first kisses -> you have no clue how gojo managed to get that photograph of you, but what you do know is that you'll do anything to get it back. ◉ [4:34 p.m.] ◉ haunt me -> even after you leave the jujutsu world behind, gojo satoru finds himself unable to get over you.

━━━ geto suguru

◉ the one you love -> geto doesn't know if you've been looking for him or not, but he does know that he can't look you in the eyes after your last mission together. ◉ all to you -> (nsfw.) moments between you and geto, and how you inevitably ended up in his bed. ◉ la petite mort -> (nsfw) your job as an investigative journalist leads you to infiltrate the time vessel association in search of a good article. but you get more than you bargained for when you catch the attention of geto suguru, the charismatic leader of of the organization that seems more like a cult.

━━━ nanami kento

◉ [6:32 p.m.] ◉ [5:56 p.m.]

━━━ itadori yuuji

◉ [7:39 p.m.]

#jjk masterlist

833 notes · View notes

blackopals-world · 7 months

Note

How successful do you think Fellow would be? Honestly part of me thinks he might get beaten up by Jester!Yuu in a kinda slapstick style for bringing a bad name to funny little silly guys

Let me answer that with this

Circus Jem

Fellow tries to claim a new attraction.

Fellow felt very lucky. Very lucky indeed that such a perfect doll waltzed right in.

One so perfect they looked as if they belonged already, no need to dress them up.

Sure the others that came along were just a bonus now that they brought such a gift.

Their face was painted porcelain with a golden star and pastel lips. All dolled up in ribbons and bells. Their clothes were designed to look like the wearer had been pulled from a circus poster.

He could already see those lovely ribbons pulled taunt like puppet strings.

Fellow watched his prey flit from attraction to attraction their charm sending waves of excitement through the other patrons.

They gathered and praised their looks and asked for pictures and took videos. The little clown juggled and danced doing tricks on the merry-go-round.

A mascot. Yes! They were perfect to play that part.

Fellow waited until the little one had separated from the group that fawned over them like a beloved toy. He even laughed at that thought knowing he would steal it from them.

"Are you enjoying your day here?" He asked leaning over the entertainer.

"Absol-tully! I love it here!" They practically chirped.

"And your group? Where are they?" He asked examining his prize more closely. They were in good condition, no visible marks at least.

"Oh, I wanted to get some cotton candy. Villy would never let me have any. But it's my favorite treaty." They whined their lower lip poked out.

Fellow felt an arrow in his chest. He understood why the clown was dotted on. Their strange speech pattern and childish mannerisms could draw anyone in.

"You poor thing. Why don't you come with me. I show you the best candy stall in the park. I won't tell a soul what you did." He said taking the jester by the hand. "

He led them away deeper into the heart of the park.

"I hope you don't mind me saying this but you fit in quite well here. It's a shame you won't be staying longer. You've really brightened this humble park." Fellow said in sorrow.

"I know! This place is just so cozy but also cold. Chilly but no cheese! It feels like home though." They said. Fellow didn't get the meaning behind those words.

" I could use your help to change that. You could stay here. I promise you'll love it. Fun and games every day and an adoring crowd to perform for every night. You would always fit in among the others. All the cotton candy you want and no one to tell you no." Fellow lead the clown to a special room away from the park. A space with a lovely cage just for his new doll.

"Em. No, thanks! I'm not just some clown you know. I'm a jester! As such I need my people. As long as they're happy I'm happy too. But I can't make them happy if I'm far far away. That would make me super sad." They said agast "Hey wait. This isn't the candy place."

"Unfortunately for you, it's not. But don't worry my precious doll. I bring you some to decorate your new cage." Fellow laughed as he raised his staff.

Only for it to be knocked form his hand.

"You lied! You aren't Honest at all. In fact, you aren't even fun. That makes me mad! And I hate being mad!" The jester growled as they grabbed the fox by the front of the shirt.

Fellow struggled to get out of the iron grip.

"Hey wait! I-" He tried to say.

"I'm bored. You're boring me with the flip-flapping of your lips. Now you have to take responsibility and entertain me funny man."

The group was in chaos. They had lost Yuu!

There was no telling where they went. Were they kidnapped?! That clown has no survival instincts and no sense of fear at all.

Lilia suggested they ask if anyone had seen them after all a brightly dressed jester is hard to miss.

And lucky them they found their missing clown standing on a stage with Fellow's staff in hand.

"Come one come all! And see a wonderful show! See the disgrace that is the Fallen Ringmaster! Watch him dance upon my strings!" Yuu commanded the fox to do tricks like a dog. "Jump Fellow! Now Speak! Jump through the hoop and don't get burned!"

The audience was losing it as they laughed at the foolish display. Honest seemed to be under some sort of hypnotic spell but was still fully aware of his torment.

Yuu figured out the staff was a magic tool to control people. They were such a smart cookie.

Unfortunately, the spell didn't last long as Fellow regained his body and turned to attack the little clown.

The group charged the stage to stop him only for-

*CRACK*

Yuu stood there holding a broken staff-well stick in their hands after they swung it full force across Fellow's head.

The fox went down with a thud after getting a definite concussion.

"Oopies!" The jester giggled, bashfully hiding the bloodied staff behind their back.

#jester!yuu #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland yuu #fellow honest #playful land event #vil schoenheit #twst vil #twisted wonderland vil #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge #twisted wonderland lilia

777 notes · View notes

onemillionvolts · 2 years

Text

genshin men + more random drabbles

18+. MDNI. some more themeless little drabbles cause they're so fun to write

ft. diluc, tighnari, childe, scaramouche, xiao

warnings: fem!reader, oral sex(m. receiving), fingering, dry humping(kinda), rough sex, spanking, creampie, degradation(use of "whore"), edging, orgasm denial

☆ DILUC

diluc is always monumentally busy, it makes you feel so bad for him. running the winery is no simple task, and it often leaves him exhausted at the end of the day. luckily, that's where you come in. you support diluc in every single way you can, whether that be helping him out at work, doing things at home, or, your personal favorite, sucking him off at the end of every stressful day.

diluc lies in bed, watching with tired cherry eyes as you practically fawn over his cock, licking up the underside of his shaft before finally taking the swollen pink tip of it between your lips, inching down his impressive length until he hits the back of your throat. you take him so well, and it's like his deep, drawn-out groans are a challenge for you to do even better, to deepthroat him like your life depends on it.

a hand combs through his long red locks, his breaths heavy as you sloppily bob your head up and down on his cock, eyes peering deep in his own glossy ones as he gets closer, hips pushing upwards as he cums, the only warning being a deep grunt of your name as he spills his seed deep inside your mouth... you swallow every last drop, of course.

☆ TIGHNARI

tighnari plays with your cunt for his own pleasure. there's just something about it all that makes him so happy, that gives him peace of mind. your pretty sounds, the way you move, and how your cunt feels against his fingers just drives him crazy.

his delicate fingertips travel up your folds, rubbing your clit with such grace—not that you've learned to expect anything less from tighnari. everything he does is so precise, so careful, especially when it comes to you. his soft touches are enough to make you squirm, to make your back arch, his name spilling from your lips.

his fingers slide past your entrance once you're closer, your slick allowing easy access for his digits. the way he expertly pumps his fingers into your soaking cunt is heavenly, especially paired with the way he thumbs at your clit. it isn't long before you're grabbing onto his arm for dear life as he fingers you through your orgasm, a playful smile on his face as you tighten around his digits.

☆ CHILDE

ajax loves to take advantage of how needy you are for him, he puts you through these sick games before he so much as thinks about giving you what you're so desperate for. he makes you strip down naked as he lies in bed, only in his gray slacks. and before he takes them off and frees his aching cock, he makes you hump him through his pants.

"the messier these get, the better," he coos, watching in awe as you glide your glistening cunt along the outline of his cock, eyes glossy with lust as you grind against him, dampening the fabric of his slacks, just like he loves. in fact, tartaglia can't even stop himself from grinding up against you.

"fuck, babydoll, gonna make me cum in my pants..." ajax sheepishly slurs, equally aroused and amused as you continue to shamelessly hump him, your hips continuing to roll as you grind on him through your orgasm. and fuck, he can't hold back either, not after the way you moan his name like that—he finishes in his pants without an ounce of shame.

☆ SCARAMOUCHE

scara is balls deep inside of your tight cunt, and entirely feeding off of the way that you're moaning and whining out for him. you started off on all fours, but it doesn't take long for your arms to give, the male's thrusts far too brutal for you to retain your strength. being soft is barely in scaramouche's vocabulary, especially when it comes to fucking you.

his hand crashes down on your ass, multiple times as he fucks into you with no sign of remorse, his thick cock stretching you out with each slam of his hips. "fuck, such a good little whore for me.." he babbles, indigo eyes panned down to watch how his cock disappears into your cunt every time he rocks his hips forward against you.

your frantic words, announcing your impending orgasm, are swallowed up and muffled by the pillow that your face buries in, slurring out a wail of his name as you cum around his cock, his pace still overwhelming in the best possible way. scara's firm hands grip onto your ass as he cums, halting his thrust at its apex to cum as deep inside of you as he can, accompanied by a deep rasp of your name.

☆ XIAO

your legs are thrown over xiao's shoulders as he pounds into you, the regular blank expression that usually adorns his face nowhere to be found—instead, his eyes are half-lidded and cloudy with lust, mouth agape as he fucks you like there's no tomorrow, hips unrelenting as you clench around his cock.you're so close, but much like each time previous that you approached your climax, xiao can tell.. and with a sinister smirk, he stops all motion of his hips, dead in his tracks, depriving you of your orgasm yet again.

"please," you whine, voice shaky and tired from moaning and sobbing out his name so much. "'please' what?" he spits back, perfectly content to let his stiff cock rest inside you. "please.. need to cum," you whimper out, giving him the best doe eyes you possibly can. he's been edging you for the better part of half an hour at this point, and it's unbearable. he huffs without another word spoken, hips picking up right where they left off.

xiao's cock glides against your walls effortlessly, his hands holding your hips steady as he fucks into you. the swollen head of his length drags against your sweet spot with each thrust, and it isn't long before it sends you past the point of no return—after so long of being denied, you cum around xiao's cock, letting out an exaggerated moan of his name as your walls clamp around his girth.

#gi smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin thirsts #genshin impact thirsts #diluc smut #diluc x reader smut #tighnari smut #tighnari x reader smut #childe smut #tartaglia smut #childe x reader smut #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader smut #xiao smut #xiao x reader smut #✶ neon.writing ✶

6K notes · View notes

fluff-n-cookies · 7 months

Text

having Hawks as your Body Guard.

it simply came to be like an epiphany from whatever deity lies from above. Body gaurd AU, as always fem reader, reader is 7-3 years old, and shy, hawks is a soft yandere, and Platonic.

Now in this AU Hawks is a body guard for people who need body guarding and since you have a pretty well known and wealthy family in this AU you are considered to be a prime target for well, bad people, ya' know?

anyway so hawks recently gets a call to be a body guard for your family now hawks is okay with this but the problem is when he realizes HE IS TAKING CARE OF YOU.

like your this tiny little thing that doesn't even speak that much how is he going to survive taking care of you EVERY DAY?

it just so BORING.

but hey, they pay well. (and he hears that the family's main body guard is Endeavor so there's that too)

so he gets there, standard procedure, nothing too interesting getting the names of his ward, where he'll be taking you etc.

and then he actually meets you and boring stuff happens, he tries to talk to you and then talk to Endeavor but being a child and a shy one at that you're not someone who he'd call fun.

he picks you up from your school, drives you to your house, another person's house (your moms friend) house, doctor appointment, barricades you from other people you know the drill.

it probably isn't until you're in danger that he actually starts to care. I'm guessing burglar that tries to hold you hostage.

because something inside him just clicks.

he suddenly has his feeling of unease and discomfort when he doesn't know where you are and when you're not by his side.

Mama Bird mode is activated.

he also finds that he wants to interact with you more, and gets closer to you. as in helping fix your hair, playing with you and then helping you clean up, and wanting to just really interact with you more.

has you hold his hand and lead the way to all your favorite places and he eyes everyone else to see if they're a threat.

since you're so shy, Keigo takes it upon himself to answer the questions you didn't even ask, alike you could be at the zoo, and eye a random animal for too long and he'll be spitting facts all like "did you know that Butterflies can taste with their feet, using something called Chemoreceptors that help them to identify plants! cool right?" and stare at it for even longer and he's buying you a plushie, it's over, you are getting that plushie!

and when your family is out in public he just kinda

and it's so fucking funny, he just barricades you so much the media doesn't have a single photo of you that your parents have not posted. and Keigo anonymously keeps reporting it so they take those posts down, HE CANNOT HAVE ANYONE ELSE HAVE YOU YOU"RE TOO GOOD FOR THIS WORLD.

oh my god, if you talk to him more than you normally would with anyone else, he can and will look so damn smug, he loves the fact that not even your Parents have what you have with him.

at some point Mama Bird mode is Elevated, he just can't take it anymore, he fucking applies to be a nanny.

I'll write for endeavor and miruko in this Au on monday and tuesday respectively maybe a little before that if I'm too impatient.

546 notes · View notes

littlemisssatanist · 2 months

Text

my acotar unpopular opinions

taking this time to come out as an acotar reader. yes i've read all the books and i've spent way too much time thinking about it. i enjoy the books in the sense that i enjoy hating on many of the characters and loving a few of the others.

be forewarned inner circle fans. you will not like this.

rhysand is not a 'morally grey' character. he's a rapist and a groomer. he sexually assaulted feyre utm, he groomed her (reminder that she was 19 in acotar), and he withheld important medical information from her. 'you'll always have a choice' my ass.

nesta telling feyre about her pregnancy was not a bad thing. why do people act like it is? 'oh she did it to hurt feyre' hurt her by doing what? revealing the lies that her beloved husband had woven? revealing the fact that she'd die giving birth? the fact that rhysand told literally everybody but feyre?

mor is not the champion for women everyone thinks she is. this i will give to sjm it is truly impressive to make a character like women and still be a pick me. i'm not even going to go into her whole weird ass relationship with her dad (i still don't understand why she wouldn't just kill him. 'oh rhys needed the army' rhys is supposed to be the most powerful high lord ever. either admit he's a fucking loser or give me an actual good reason for this) or the fact she's seemingly incapable of doing anything to help the women in the court of nightmares, but everytime she was mentioned, i had to let out a heavy sigh and rub my temples.

on a similar topic. i liked eris. like a lot. out of all the acotar characters sjm has written, eris is by far my favorite.

the inner circle needs to sit the fuck down. they are the most hypocritical bitches i've ever met. they like to think themselves high and mighty. reading them make fun of lucien's band of exiles while their name is literally 'court of dreamers' was the most infuriating thing ever. and then they have the gall to be insulted when called out. don't dish what you can't take.

out of all the inner circle, the only one i don't hate is azriel. this is simply because he is the only one who hasn't opened his big fat mouth and done something bad (except if you maybe count his whole thing with elain). cassian is on my hit list. it's on sight with cassian.

nessian is sjm's worst ship and i will stand by that. lucien/nesta could have been so much. 'nesta would have ripped lucien apart' and cassian was your first choice? not even azriel was considered? like be so for real right now. sjm didn't see the potential of lucien/nesta and i will forever mourn that.

sjm is a terrible writer. i'm not saying this to be mean but she seriously just sucks at it. that being said i admire her ability to still make millions of dollars off her shitty writing. as a woman, i am rooting for her. as a reader, every day i wake up a shoot a prayer to the heavens begging the gods to not let sjm write any more books from the inner circle's pov.

lucien/elain is better than azriel/elain. argue with the wall.

eris/azriel is better than azriel/elain. you can kiss my ass.

NESTA/ERIS IS BETTER THAN RHYSAND/FEYRE. i know this because i have been enlightened.

feyre is a victim to rhysand. that being said, she is also a major bitch. both can be true because these things are not mutually exclusive. i wish she could make friends outside of the ic like nesta did, but i know that's unlikely.

feyre's pregnancy storyline was completely useless and went against her whole character.

acomaf retconned everything about tamlin and feyre's relationship in order to make more money. idc.

tamlin gets a ridiculous amount of hate. rhysand is hypocritical. so tamlin locking feyre in a house because she wants to ride out with him into potential danger is terrible and abusive, but rhysand locking nesta in the house of wind for... *checks notes*... having sex and spending money on alcohol is helping her? what?

#anti rhysand #anti sjm #anti inner circle #anti acotar #rhysand critical #inner circle critical #acotar #acotar critical #pro nesta #anti nessian #pro eris vanserra #anti mor #this might be a controversial one

244 notes · View notes

suzukiblu · 2 months

Text

Ko-fi thank-you WIP excerpt behind the cut, as promised, friends; 7k of kidnapping your soulmate for fun and profit. (and non-chrono link for anyone on the app.)

Tana Moon follows Leech over to the group, looking a little wary herself. Tim sizes her up in his peripheral vision, pretending not to notice her approach. He’s “just” found out who his soulmate is, so he can sell the illusion of only paying attention to Superboy right now. It’s not an unusual reaction.

It’s a pretty typical one, actually. The fact that Superboy decided to immediately show him off to everyone he knows is actually the less usual option, in fact. Not unheard of either, of course, but still. A lot of newly-discovered soulmates tend to just forget about the outside world for a few hours. Or days, even. A few missing person cases that Tim’s been involved in solving turned out to be cases of “I met my soulmate and we just eloped/ran away/went on a road trip/holed up in a hotel room without telling anyone”.

Tim had thought it was ridiculous at the time, if obviously preferable to ending up with either a dead body or a traumatized victim, but Tim is currently in the process of planning an ethically-necessary kidnapping less than twenty-four hours after first cracking into Superboy’s file, so he supposes soulmates just bring out most people’s less pragmatic sides.

Though he personally thinks carefully-planned ethical kidnappings are an improvement on spontaneous weekends in Vegas, pragmatically-speaking. But whatever.

“He showed you?” Tana Moon says, glancing Tim over suspiciously. Superboy’s face reddens this time and he tugs at the slash in his own suit.

“He, uh, saw mine first,” he says. “Kinda got into it with a dude downtown and Tim here was in the area, and like, he recognized it, obviously.”

“It’s fairly noticeable as a mark,” Tim supplies helpfully, figuring he should be being supportive of his soulmate here, and also be shutting Rex Leech up as efficiently as possible. “And Superboy came over to check on me after the fight, so it was hard to miss.”

“Sure it was,” Leech says, his face souring. “So then you won’t mind showin’ yours to–”

“Shut up, Dad!” Roxy hisses, kicking him viciously hard in the ankle. Leech yelps in pain. Roxy is immediately his favorite, Tim decides. By far Roxy is his favorite. The dog’s kind of cute and Dubbilex seems decent, but definitely Roxy is his favorite.

Her dad definitely fucking sucks, though.

And as for Tana Moon . . .

“You’re a tourist?” Tana says, just barely frowning down at Tim. She’s taller than him. She’s also taller than Superboy, because she’s a grown-ass woman and why, exactly, is a reporter even here right now? How is that necessary or reasonable?

. . . admittedly she’s also taller than Leech and he’s a middle-aged man, but that’s not the point here. If Tim has to “no comment” this situation and figure out how to get either his parents or Bruce to kill a story, he absolutely will. He isn’t even slightly gonna hesitate there. He is gonna the opposite of hesitate, in fact.

“Yes,” he lies, which might not endear him to Moon, given she’s a native, but is better than confessing to having premeditated designs on kidnapping a teen idol superhero. Especially to a reporter.

Even if it is legally salvage.

“I’m just in town for the day,” he continues. “I needed to get away for a little while, you know how it is.”

“Sure,” Moon says, narrowing her eyes at him. “Who doesn’t.”

“He’s from Gotham. And he helped the civilians get out of the area while I was fighting that guy downtown!” Superboy says eagerly, which is . . . odd, actually, and throws Tim off a bit. That seems like a weird thing for Superboy to be eager about, considering. Like . . . just very weird.

“Well, that’s a Gotham thing, probably,” Tim says, putting on a sheepish Civilian Smile (#7). “We’re used to rogue attacks with area of effect concerns involved, so we get pretty good at clearing a street.”

“You did awesome,” Superboy says, grinning excitedly at him. That is . . . still weird, yeah. Tim really doesn’t get it.

Well, maybe Superboy’s just relieved to have a soulmate who knows how to stay out of the line of fire and what to do in a crisis, given how often crisises probably come up in his life. That would make sense, considering.

“It was nothing, just a little light crowd control,” Tim tries, assuming that’s what a normal civilian would say. Probably, right? Almost definitely. “Nobody even needed any urgent medical attention. And you used your TTK really strategically and contained the guy too, that was much more impressive to pull off in a mess like that.”

Yeah, that was normal civilian talk, he thinks, pleased with himself for managing it.

Superboy turns pink, then grins again. Dubbilex . . . tilts his head.

Normal. Normal. Normal civilian. That’s what Tim is. A civilian! Who’s normal! Very, very normal!

Normal.

He smiles Normal Civilian Smile #4 and pats Krypto’s head again. Krypto makes an enthusiastic attempt at licking his fingers off.

Ew.

“‘Light crowd control’,” Moon echoes. That’s what Tim said, yeah, so he’s not sure why she’s repeating it. Well–reporter, again, so It’s probably a trap.

It’s almost definitely a trap, actually.

Really definitely it’s a trap.

“Sorry to just show up like this, hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he says to Roxy and Dubbilex with a smile, politely pretending not to be ignoring Moon. He is definitely ignoring Moon, though. Again: reporter. She may not be a Lois Lane or even a Vicki Vale, but he’s still not giving her any information he can avoid giving her. And he’ll just ignore Leech while he’s at it, too.

“I invited you, man!” Superboy says with a laugh, shaking his head. “We’re gonna hit the beach for a while, go hang out. Just swung by to grab Tim a swimsuit I can lend him.”

“You came to Hawaii to ‘get away’ and didn’t pack a swimsuit?” Moon says skeptically.

“Yup,” Tim replies with the most placidly innocent expression he’s ever worn in his life. Nothing. He is giving her nothing. Let all her reporter instincts strike against mirrored glass and high-security privacy windows and come to naught.

Moon stares at him in silence, clearly waiting for him to fill it. Tim doesn’t fall for the incredibly obvious bait and just keeps the placidly innocent expression on.

She frowns.

“C’mon, man,” Superboy says cheerfully, apparently–and fortunately–oblivious to their stand-off. He grabs Tim’s arm and drags him towards the front porch. Tim seriously doubts its structural stability, from the look of it, but tactile telekinesis is hard to argue with.

The steps manage not to collapse–possibly also because of tactile telekinesis, Tim can’t help suspecting–and Superboy pulls him straight into the house, which is . . . not particularly well taken care of, no surprise. The furniture looks like it all came from a thrift store, and not a nice thrift store.

Admittedly Tim’s upbringing might be showing here, but also the corners need swept and there’s random boxes of assorted Superboy merch everywhere, most of which looks like cheap junk, and a huge stack of mail and four empty pizza boxes on the coffee table and overflowing trash cans with random junk scattered around, and it’s just . . . it doesn’t look taken care of, no. Which is something Tim would expect from a teenager or two, and maybe Dubbilex doesn’t know how chore wheels work or whatever, but fucking Rex Leech should at least be capable of getting out the broom once a week.

Assuming there is one, anyway. Tim isn’t particularly optimistic on that one, honestly.

Superboy’s room is even messier than the living room, covered in dirty clothes and abandoned comics and crumpled-up papers, but Tim’s bedroom looks like a bomb went off in it so he’s not gonna judge. Anyway, that’s Superboy’s personal space, not a common area. He can keep it however he likes, Tim figures.

Somebody should really sweep that living room, though. And throw out those old pizza boxes, too.

Tim isn’t judging, just–well, no, he is very much judging, actually. Specifically what he’s judging is Rex Leech, noted asshole sleazeball manager with predatory business tactics.

Fuck that guy, seriously.

“You want trunks or a speedo?” Superboy asks as he lets go of his arm to fly over to the cluttered dresser. Tim turns seventeen different shades of red and nearly disassociates.

“Trunks,” he says quickly. “Please.”

“Gotcha, man,” Superboy says easily, and then all the dresser drawers yank out at once and dump out crumpled piles of . . . mostly swimsuits and super-suits, it looks like, yeah. Like, basically nothing else but swimsuits and super-suits and a couple of cheesy-looking Hawaiian shirts.

Well, that might be one lonely, lonely pair of cutoffs sticking out from underneath the swimsuits. But otherwise, that’s pretty much it, yeah.

Fuck, that’s depressing, Tim thinks.

Superboy comes back over with an armful of swimsuits, just about all of which have the S-shield either printed or stitched on them. Tim wonders why the guy even has this many swimsuits, especially considering he barely has any other clothes at all. At least not as far as he can see, anyway.

He also wonders if he’s gonna die if he wears Superboy’s clothes. Is that a thing that might happen? Because it really might happen, yeah.

Also wearing something with an S-shield on it feels like just a little too much to handle right now, so Tim’s hoping for a basic black option to be buried somewhere in that pile. Given Superboy’s apparent fashion sense, it seems unlikely, but hope springs eternal.

“Take a look, see what’s good,” Superboy says, dumping the entire armful of swimsuits on Tim. Tim’s just grateful he remembered to stick to just the trunks, at this point.

“So you spend a lot of time on the beach, huh?” he says wryly.

“C’mon, man, it’s Hawaii,” Superboy says with a sheepish grin. “And I mean, I look good in anything but wet leather is just not a comfortable fit, you know?”

“I guess it wouldn’t be, no,” Tim says, giving him Civilian Smile #4 again. Superboy’s ears redden a little again, and then he leans back and zips back across the room to shove all his drawers back shut. Tim lays out the pile of swimsuits on the bed, since it’s right there anyway, and then immediately feels embarrassed to be this close to Superboy’s bed. Which is stupid, even if they aren’t platonics. They’ve just met; it’s not like anything’s gonna happen.

. . . even if Superboy is a notorious flirt and totally shameless and–

Tim is just not gonna pursue that line of thought right now, he decides. Just for his own sanity and all.

He accidentally knocks some paper off the bed as he’s laying out the suits to get a look at them, and reflexively leans down to pick it up. The room’s a mess, yeah, but it’s Superboy’s mess. It’s still rude to just drop shit wherever.

The paper isn’t as crumpled as some of the others, and Tim sees a glimpse of color as he picks it up. His inner detective reflexively wonders what it is, and . . .

Tim uncrumples the paper a little, and blinks down at it in surprise. It’s a little kid’s drawing, it looks like. A sunny beach rendered in bright colored pencil and simple, awkward shapes all painstakingly but clumsily colored in and–

Superboy’s suddenly right back next to him snatching the paper from him and immediately hiding it behind his back, looking absolutely mortified. Tim’s confused, for a moment. What’s he embarrassed about? It’s obviously not anything he’d have drawn himself. It’s probably just something a fan or a neighbor’s kid gave him, or . . .

Tim pauses. Then he recontextualizes just how much of the crumpled-up paper is lying around Superboy’s room and wonders, very briefly, if a bunch of STEM majors with delusions of grandeur would’ve bothered programming their custom-designed “Superman” with anything resembling art skills.

So . . . maybe that is something Superboy drew himself. If Cadmus didn’t program him with the muscle memory or knowledge of how to draw . . . well, then he probably would draw like a little kid, wouldn’t he.

And given Superboy’s cocky, braggart personality and defensive ego and how all that paper is all crumpled up as if in frustration . . .

“Gift from a fan?” Tim “assumes” with Smiling Civilian Face #4, pretending to be oblivious.

“Uh–yeah!” Superboy blurts quickly as he jumps on the provided excuse, though he keeps the paper behind his back. “Yeah, just–you know, just some kid gave it to me at a signing, whatever. Uh, bathroom’s through there, if you wanna get changed. Or like, whatever.”

“Thanks,” Tim says, and resists the itching urge to peek at a few more of those crumpled-up papers. It’s just a lot of paper, especially if Superboy’s upset with the results.

He wonders why the guy draws so much, if he’s that frustrated and embarrassed by it. Maybe it’s a rebellion thing, since it’s something Cadmus didn’t want him to know how to do. Tim would definitely understand that logic, if he were in Superboy’s situation. Or maybe he’s just bothered not to know how and trying to teach himself to make up for the perceived failing.

Or maybe he just likes it, Tim supposes. That’s an option too.

Probably a less likely one, though, given that it’s Superboy. Not to be an asshole or anything, just it’s a lot easier picturing the guy assuming he should be able to do something and getting fixated on trying to pull it off than just, like . . . liking to draw. Also, judging by all that balled-up paper, it doesn’t seem like there’s much there for him to “like”, either.

Tim takes the plainest set of trunks with a drawstring waist, which are black and dark blue but still have an S-shield iron-on patch sewn onto their waistband, for whatever reason, and ducks into the bathroom with them. He realizes belatedly that said S-shield is probably going to rest right up against his soulmark, then feels like an idiot for feeling flustered by that idea and just sets his bag against the wall and starts getting undressed.

He’s definitely wearing one of the spare shirts in his go-bag for this, he decides as he stuffs his clothes into his bag. Just–definitely, yeah.

The trunks fit once he cinches the drawstring enough, but the S-shield definitely does rest right against his soulmark. Tim has never actually considered the sight of the S-shield to be, like . . . relevant or interesting outside of work, but he’s realizing that he sure does feel differently about it now that he knows his soulmate’s one of the people wearing it.

Which is a little ironic, really, considering Superboy wears the S-shield as a branding thing or whatever and lets Leech slap it on whatever cheap shitty merch he can think of. Like, he’s probably the least respectful S-wearer there is.

Tim pulls on a plain clean T-shirt and a short-sleeve button-down to go over it, figuring that’s beach-friendly enough. He should’ve packed sunglasses, probably, but he was a little distracted by his kidnapping plans and didn’t think to.

Seriously. He didn’t think to bring sunglasses to Hawaii.

This whole situation definitely has him off his game, yeah.

Soulmate thing, he guesses.

Tim eyes himself in the bathroom mirror, mentally decides he’s being an idiot to worry about how he looks right now, and then grabs his bag and heads back out into the bedroom. Superboy’s changed into low-waisted S-shield-themed trunks of his own and flip-flops and nothing else, which does in fact give Tim an embarrassingly good and embarrassingly distracting view of their soulmark. It’s not quite distracting enough for him to miss the fact that the amount of crumpled papers strewn around the room has noticeably decreased, though. And there’s definitely more of them sticking out from under the bed and dresser and in the back of the closet than there previously were.

Which is kinda cute, honestly, but Tim should probably not say that. Like, ever.

“Thanks for waiting,” he says, smiling Normal Civilian Smile #4 at Superboy as he hitches his bag up a little higher on his shoulder. “And for the loan.”

Superboy stares blankly at him for half a second, then seems to startle a little and puffs himself up.

“Uh–sure, yeah!” he says quickly. “No problem, man. Anytime.”

“‘Anytime’ seems pretty open, as an offer,” Tim jokes, because normal civilians make that kind of joke, and Superboy turns red.

“Oh, uh–you know what I mean!” he sputters awkwardly, holding his hands up, which seems kind of a lot as a reaction, and then somehow manages to nearly knock over his dresser without even touching it. Well–that'd be the TTK, Tim guesses.

It wasn't even that much of a joke. Like, lame suburban dad joke territory, that's all.

“I do, yeah,” he says with a wry smile. Superboy finds a way to turn even redder and shoves his dresser back into a corner. That also seems like kind of a lot as a reaction, but Tim doesn't comment. Just seems, well . . . awkward? Unnecessary? “Are we good to go, then?”

“Um, yeah, yeah,” Superboy says, clearing his throat and then zipping out into the hall. Tim wonders if he always flies indoors this much. “All good, dude! Let's head out.”

“Sure,” Tim says, keeping the smile on. Superboy is still red, but floats along down the hall. Tim follows. Okay. They’re almost definitely not platonic, but Superboy clearly isn’t any more sure what to do with that than Tim is, so . . . small favors, he guesses. Like–that they’re at least roughly on the same page there, he means.

Unless he’s just reading into things because of weird personal biases he didn’t even know he had, and Superboy is completely straight and just kind of socially awkward around civilians, and Tim’s just being socially pressured by the background radiation of living in a society that over-values romantic soulmates in comparison to platonic ones and sometimes disavows platonic soulmates altogether.

He supposes technically they could be familial, rare as that is. It’s not like he really knows how he’d feel about having a brother. Dick’s the closest thing to one he’s ever had, and that’s just . . . not actually the same thing, obviously, even if sometimes he wishes . . .

Anyway. It doesn’t matter. He’s pretty sure having a brother wouldn’t in any way involve this level of embarrassment and unexpected hormones and just general sexuality-questioning over every little thing. Like, that seems very much not like what having a brother would be like.

So–maybe he isn’t straight, or maybe Superboy’s not actually a boy, or maybe both of those things are true, or maybe he’s just really, really bad at having a soulmate.

Entirely possible, under the circumstances. Tim’s not really all that good at getting close to people. If he got a little confused about how to handle having a soulmate, well . . . that wouldn’t really be a surprise, would it.

Or maybe he just doesn’t want to have to figure out how to come out to his dad or Dana or the goddamn Batman.

One or the other, probably.

. . . statistically speaking, the likelier explanation probably is not wanting to come out to the goddamn Batman.

“Wanna fly someplace or just chill on the beach out front?” Superboy asks as he floats backwards into the living room. Krypto runs up and jumps on Tim excitedly, his tail wagging so hard his whole little body’s wagging with it. He’s a weird-looking little mutt, but he’s really friendly, apparently. “Krypto, oh my god, get off him.”

“I don't mind,” Tim says, leaning down to give Krypto a polite little pat on the head. Krypto barks happily and wags his tail so hard he knocks himself over.

Yeah, weird dog in general, Tim thinks. But again, really friendly.

“We can go wherever,” he says. “You're the local, you know the best places to get a little time alone to hang out, right?”

“‘Alone’?” Superboy repeats, his ears reddening again as he somehow manages to trip in mid-air and hits his head on the doorframe. Tim can probably safely write off the idea of “platonic” at this point, but is still a little bit wary of his personal bias interfering. Though . . . “Uh–yeah! Totally! Yeah! We can do that!”

Yeah, Superboy really isn’t selling the “platonic” idea here either.

Does Tim have a boyfriend now? Is this how boyfriends happen?

. . . well, or a girlfriend, maybe. He still hasn’t ruled out the “maybe Superboy’s just trans” option. That seems like a thing that might confuse his sexuality a little, if nothing else.

This is definitely not anything like any previous girlfriend-getting he’s experienced, though. Like, not even a little bit. He’s not complaining, exactly, because admittedly it’s actually a little bit easier going into a new relationship with a plan and a cover established, even if the plan is admittedly still in flux and the relationship’s “romantic" vs "platonic” status is still unclear. It’s still something he can approach like a case, which is much more straightforward than just floundering around trying to figure out how normal people work.

And Superboy’s about as far from a “normal person” as it gets, so really, this is a pretty ideal set-up on Tim’s end.

Hopefully Superboy feels similarly, though he also, like . . . is lacking some pretty important information there, so . . . yeah, that might be an issue. Bruce would definitely not have appreciated Robin telling Superboy he was his soulmate, though, and who knows how Superboy would’ve even taken that. Going in as a civilian is going pretty smoothly, though, so Tim’s pretty sure it was the right choice.

Hopefully it was, anyway.

“Cool,” Tim says, keeping up the placid harmless civilian face and thoughts and Totally-Not-A-Vigilante vibes. Superboy does a very bad job of pretending he didn’t just bump into the doorframe and ducks back outside, putting on a cocky grin of his own as he does. It occurs to Tim, briefly, that maybe Superboy has his own catalog of performative expressions. None of his friends really seem to, but Superboy is in the community too, so . . . well, it’d make sense, right?

Also he does sell his likeness via a sleazy manager’s sleazy business deals, so yeah. It does kind of make sense.

Huh. That’s . . . a thought, he guesses.

Not a thought he’d really had yet.

Just . . . something they might have in common, Tim guesses.

Though so is being in the community to begin with, obviously. And they're physiologically about the same age and have similar coloring, though Superboy is–well, not actually mixed with East Asian, because Krypton did not have an actual place called “Asia”, but he does have subtle hints of that look, same as Superman. Easy to mistake for just being white, but recognizable if you know what you're looking for. Superboy would be at least half-white given Westfield's DNA, Tim guesses, but . . .

Yeah, no, he doesn't even know how to begin to figure out the nuances of racial identity on a dead planet he knows next to nothing about, much less any potential experience parallels there might be for a second-generation half-alien immigrant with effectively zero access to their own culture, but maybe he could–

Right, okay, he needs to focus here. There's some fascinating stuff there that he can theorize about and investigate later, once he's kidnapped Superboy properly. The kidnapping is the current priority, though. Like, it is very much the current priority.

Tim follows Superboy back out onto the porch. Everyone else is still out there, which is fine in regards to Roxy and Dubbilex and not fine in regards to Leech and . . . well, jury's out on Moon, maybe.

Also the dog. He doesn't really know about the dog. Though said dog does run after him and jump up for attention wagging his scruffy little tail hard enough to wag his whole little body, which is sort of cute.

Or as cute as a wet dishrag can get, anyway.

Tim’s trying not to judge Krypto for that, since obviously he didn't ask to be born as the living embodiment of a wet dishrag, and anyway he's a really friendly dog, so judging by appearances seems like a dick move. Even if Tim kind of wants to iron him, to be honest. Steam-clean, maybe.

At least take him to a decent groomer, if nothing else.

“Down, you little shit, Jesus!” Kon says, scowling down at Krypto and trying to shoo him away. Krypto growls at him, which seems weird, then goes back to fawning all over Tim. Tim leans down and pats his head, figuring it might calm him down.

“It’s okay,” he says. “He is cute.”

“Whatever,” Superboy grumbles, folding his arms and inexplicably glowering at his dog.

“You gonna go swim, or just hang out?” Roxy asks curiously as she comes over to them again.

“Oh, we’re–” Superboy starts, but Moon cuts him off.

“Want some company?” Moon inquires, pleasant and suspicious all at once. Superboy looks–conflicted, momentarily, and then awkward.

“Um, well–Tim’s only in town for today, so . . . next time?” he hedges. Tim resists the urge to eye Moon. Can I just spontaneously insert myself in your first day with your brand-new soulmate? is incredibly rude, as a suggestion. And incredibly fucking disrespectful to boot. Like, what entitled-ass kind of thing is that to ask, exactly?

How old is she again? Twenty? Twenty-one? He should look that up later. Well–no, she’d graduated college and started her career by the time Superman had died, which was a good eight or nine months ago now, so unless she skipped a grade or two in there, she’s gotta be closer to twenty-four, if not twenty-five or twenty-six.

That’s . . . a thought, considering there is definitely news footage of Superboy kissing her in Metropolis. Like, Tim very definitely saw news footage of Superboy kissing her in Metropolis. And she was very definitely kissing him too.

In retrospect, that seems like something someone should’ve, like . . . done something about? Or at least addressed? And is definitely further proof of how fucking useless and slimy Rex Leech is. Sure, let the five-minute-old clone make out with a twentysomething reporter and hang out with her at home; all publicity is good publicity, so it’s fine, right? Sure. Why wouldn’t it be?

Tim is going to absolutely decimate that bastard’s credit the first chance he gets. Leech probably already has terrible credit, mind, but he’ll make it worse. He’ll find a way.

. . . though he’ll wait until he’s sure Roxy is eighteen and financially independent, he doesn’t actually know if she is or not. Roxy seems nice, she doesn’t deserve that particular fallout.

“It’d be nice to get to know each other later, I’m sure,” Tim says before Moon can say anything, smiling Gala Smile #1 at her, which is a targeted psychological attack and not actually very moral to be trotting out this quick, probably.

He has no regrets, for the record. Absolutely none.

Moon narrows her eyes suspiciously. Tim blithely strokes Krypto’s ears, Gala Smile #1 flawless and unphased.

“I’m sure,” she “agrees” frostily. Superboy remains apparently oblivious to the tension and grins brightly at both of them.

“Cool!” he says. Oh, sweet summer child who has clearly never socialized with sharks, Tim thinks resignedly, petting Krypto again. Has Leech taught him literally nothing about conversational warfare, for fuck’s sake? At least living with your sleaze of a manager should be good for that, dammit!

Then again, Leech is probably not actually competent enough to teach Superboy anything actually useful, so maybe that’s for the best.

If nothing else, Superman could’ve taught him a bit of “bless your heart”, but apparently that’s not a thing either.

Tim has a brief moment of dread that maybe underneath his personal list of performative expressions, Superboy might just be a straightforward and honest person, which is a concerning thought. He doesn’t even know how to talk to a straightforward and honest person at this point, after this long as Batman’s emotional support sidekick. How do you form a lasting relationship with someone who isn’t habitually using at least three layers of double-talk and constantly locked in on all your microexpressions, anyway?

That’s going to be a weird experience, yeah.

“Ready to go?” Superboy asks Tim, grinning brighter at him. Tim feels momentarily overwhelmed and just sort of . . . has to collect himself about that, a little.

Or a lot.

“Lead the way,” he says, smiling at him. He’s flustered enough to forget to use an appropriately-planned smile, which is embarrassing, but Superboy just grins even brighter–which should not be physically possible, but apparently is–and reaches out to scoop him up into his arms and into the air again as Krypto lets out an offended bark. It’s totally overkill and not even slightly necessary.

Tim isn’t complaining, just–well–

It’s really flustering.

“Air Superboy up, up, and away!” Superboy says cheerfully as they float up over the others’ heads. His face is way too close to Tim’s face.

Tim is gonna need a bit longer to collect himself this time, he’s pretty sure.

“Do I get an in-flight meal?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. Superboy laughs, which is even worse than his grin, and then takes off across the beachfront with him. It’s another bridal carry, which is quietly mortifying but could be worse, probably. Maybe.

Somehow.

Superboy flies them straight across the beach and then straight out over the water, skimming them along just above the waves. Tim makes a briefly startled noise, reflexively tightening his grip on the strap of his bag.

“This isn’t waterproof,” he says just as reflexively, and Superboy laughs again.

“I’m not gonna drop you, dude,” he says. Tim actually more assumed Superboy was intending to either dive-bomb them both into the water or just dump him in on purpose, because that seems like Superboy’s sense of humor, but maybe that was an unfair assumption.

He really is not prepared for how it feels to be held in close against Superboy’s bare chest and arms like this, even if he’s still wearing a shirt himself. The idea of possibly doing that while they’re both wet seems a lot worse.

Yeah. Definitely worse.

Tim should’ve worn long sleeves. And maybe a wetsuit. And maybe a few layers on top of that.

Jesus.

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” he says, barely resisting the urge to loop his arms around Superboy’s neck as the other hangs a right and swoops them back around towards shore. Flying over the water like this is a pretty cool experience, admittedly, now that he’s not worried about Superboy dumping him in the water.

Well. Less worried, anyway.

Camera next time, Tim promises himself, glancing back over Superboy’s shoulder towards the shining horizon. The sun reflects off the waves bright and beautiful, and the sky is a smooth and perfect blue dotted with sparse but billowing clouds, and everything smells like salt and sea and leather, which is probably Superboy, even without the jacket on anymore.

Definitely camera next time.

“Definitely holding you to that, actually,” he says, and Superboy laughs again and brings them down in the surf just past the tideline with a splash. Neither the splash or the water goes high enough to soak Tim's bag, so he figures it could've been worse.

Assuming Superboy isn't planning to toss him or anything before he can put his bag down somewhere safe, anyway.

They both settle down into the surf and onto their feet, and Tim becomes very aware of how close together they’re standing and also how very, very shirtless Superboy is, and in fact the only thing between their soulmarks is the very thin layer of cotton of Tim’s own shirt, and if he leaned in just a little bit . . .

Jesus, Tim thinks faintly, and forces himself to take a step back before he can make it weird.

He smiles Generically Pleasant Civilian Smile #2 just to make sure he doesn’t look like a creep or anything, and Superboy grins excitedly at him. Tim allows himself all of two seconds to be overwhelmed by that gorgeous expression and their physical closeness and the reflection of the light in Superboy’s eyes, as bright and perfectly blue as both the sky and water, and then reasserts standard operating procedures and keeps Generically Pleasant Civilian Smile #2 locked in place on his face.

“The water’s really warm,” he observes, glancing down at it. “Is that normal?”

It’s probably not an impending supervillain thing, he tells himself.

Maybe global warming or something, though.

“I mean, feels normal to me?” Superboy says with a shrug. Tim considers mentioning the average ocean temperature, comparatively speaking, or at least the average temperature of the water off the docks in Gotham. Admittedly, Gotham waters barely count as “water”, legally speaking, but that’s not the point.

“It’s pretty out here,” he says instead, and Superboy grins at him and leans in. He’s pretty sure it’s more an instinctive thing than a deliberate one, just from the way Superboy does it, but that doesn’t exactly make it less flattering.

Or flustering.

“I mean, it’s Hawaii, man!” Superboy says, grinning wider before kicking at the surf. “‘Course it’s gonna be pretty!”

Actually you specifically are possibly the prettiest damn thing that I have ever seen, Tim thinks, but isn’t stupid enough to actually let out of his mouth. Superboy, unfortunately, continues to be all warm and grinning and lit up by the island sun. Tim did not come prepared enough for this.

“I don’t know, I’m pretty sure I’d be the guy who came to Hawaii and got a monsoon,” Tim says wryly, and Superboy laughs brightly.

Tim really did not come prepared enough for this. Like, not at all. Not even slightly.

“Guess you’d just have to come back, then,” Superboy says, grinning wider again and kicking at the surf again as he floats back up out of it. It’s–weird, a little, looking up at him like this.

Well, not weird, just . . . yeah.

Something like that.

“Guess so,” Tim agrees, feeling embarrassingly flustered. Superboy’s friends can probably still see them from the porch, distant though it is, but part of him is still just considering very weird and dumb ideas like maybe tugging Superboy back down to earth and into the surf and just . . . confirming the little sexuality crisis he’s been having since breaking into the other’s file and seeing their soulmark in it, maybe.

Just, you know, ruling things out. Making deductions. Going through the process of elimination.

Kissing him, maybe.

He could very, very much kiss Superboy right now. They’re on a gorgeous beach in the surf and under the sun and Superboy is floating in front of him and grinning as happy and excited as could be and Tim’s stomach is fluttering in a stupid and also-embarrassing way, and . . .

He could kiss him. That’s all.

“I mean, it’s a nice place to visit, right?” Superboy says casually, linking his hands together behind his back.

“The tourism industry seems to think so,” Tim says wryly, and wonders what the “normal civilian who didn’t come here specifically looking for his soulmate to kidnap/salvage him to begin with” thing to say is here. He has absolutely no idea, because he actually has absolutely no idea how normal civilians react to superheroes. Robin is . . . not exactly an urban myth, necessarily, but definitely not a publicly-recognized superhero. He’s a vigilante that’s just barely allowed to operate outside the law, and not one with any kind of publicity or celebrity involved.

eSuperboy, on the other hand, is not only a superhero, but a professional superhero. He’s selling his likeness and doing events and has signed a stupid predatory contract with a sleaze of a manager that technically shouldn’t even be legal, given Superboy isn’t even considered a legal person by the government. Apparently no one has ever realized that, though, or at least no one’s ever let Superboy realize that.

Tim really doesn’t love that that’s a thing, to put it mildly.

Actually, he just fucking hates it.

Superboy laughs, and looks very, very pretty doing it. Tim continues to wonder what a normal civilian would do here, and for lack of a better idea falls back on small talk.

God, his best plan right now is small talk. What is his life, even?

No wonder he’s gonna have to take six months to kidnap Superboy, ugh.

“So, uh–this seems like a weird question to be bringing up this late in the conversation, but what’s your name?” he asks, because it’s occurred to him that he actually has no idea what Superboy goes by when he’s off-duty. He knows he doesn’t have a secret identity, of course, but there’s no way his friends just call him “Superboy”. Well–maybe his slimy asshole manager does, but otherwise. “I mean, if that’s okay to ask. Marks or not, I understand if you don’t feel like we’re there yet, given the whole superhero thing and all.”

Robin knows Superboy doesn’t have a secret identity, after all, but Tim Drake is a normal civilian and shouldn’t act like he knows too much about any superhero in general, so–

“Naw, it’s fine, I don’t even have one,” Superboy says, for some reason just beaming at him, which is . . . weird, Tim thinks, but nowhere near as weird as that answer is.

“You don’t . . . have one?” he repeats slowly, and Superboy shrugs easily. “Like–not at all?”

“Yeah, everybody pretty much just calls me 'Kid' or 'SB', when it's not Superboy,” Superboy says. “Oh, and Knockout calls me 'Pup' when she's around but like, that's really just a 'her' thing. So, you know, you can call me whatever.”

Tim stares blankly at him for a long, long moment, speed-runs all five stages of grief, and also discovers a couple of new and unexpected ones.

Alright. Well, he officially regrets literally nothing about this impending kidnapping.

“Oh, okay,” he says. “Um–sorry, I guess I just assumed you’d have a more . . . civilian-ish name too, I guess?”

“I’m a clone, man,” Superboy says, looking amused. “The only other name I’ve got is ‘Experiment Thirteen’, which is definitely not something I answer to."

Tim discovers a few more stages of grief that hit with all the subtlety of a spiked baseball bat and makes himself nod as much like a normal person as he can.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’d go for that one if I were you either,” he says. “Kind of a mouthful, if nothing else.”

Superboy laughs, then grins at him again. He is actually doing so, so much of that, Tim’s realizing. Tim was really not prepared for how much of that he’s been doing, in fact. He just did not come prepared for any of that at all. He’s got some nebulous kidnapping plans, but everything else here–from the supervillain attack to Superboy’s ripped suit and exposed soulmark–has been a crime of opportunity.

He probably should’ve done more research. Actually, he definitely should’ve done more research. He kind of just panicked and bought a ticket and flew right over, and just because Dick didn’t stop him doesn’t mean it was a good idea. He just–he should’ve done more research. Planned more. Not shown up without something concrete.

Admittedly Superboy doesn’t hate him yet or anything, but this was just . . . yeah, this was not his brightest idea at all. Not even slightly.

Why didn’t he do more research?

“You really can just call me whatever you wanna, don’t worry about it,” Superboy says with an easy shrug as he settles back down into the surf, which, unfortunately, puts him back into kissing range and is therefore incredibly distracting.

Dammit, Tim thinks, trying to beat his stupid teenage hormones into order.

“Whatever I wanna?” he repeats.

“Except for Experiment Thirteen,” Superboy says with another grin. Tim politely pretends not to notice the slight tightening of the corners of his mouth as he says the word “experiment”.

“Uh, okay,” he says, clearing his throat. He guesses Superboy doesn’t really care what his name is, then, but being told to just call him whatever he wants to is . . . well, a weird feeling, maybe. “What do you do when you just want to be a civilian for a while, though?”

“I don’t,” Superboy says.

“. . . don’t . . . what?” Tim asks slowly, not sure if he should be dreading the answer or not, but–

“Be a civilian,” Superboy says.

Tim’s running out of new stages of grief, he’s pretty sure.

“Ah,” he says.

Superboy–for a second, Tim thinks he looks self-conscious, but then he’s grinning again before he can be sure, and . . .

“Why would I?” Superboy says, puffing up proudly. “I’m Superboy, man! Nothing else I’d rather be.”

Given how limited Superboy’s options for anything “else” he could be probably are . . . well, Tim’s not sure what to think of that statement.

He doesn’t think it’s anything good, though.

Yeah, no, he thinks as he looks at Superboy’s too-bright grin and thinks about how he just said "nothing" and not "no one". Definitely not anything good.

Who wouldn’t pick being “Superboy” over being “Experiment Thirteen”, after all?

And what else would Superboy even know how to pick, if he thought those were his only options?

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #wip: kidnapping your soulmate for fun and profit

172 notes · View notes

dckweed · 2 months

Text

BABYGIRL, jake "hangman" seresin

summary: in which hangman and his babygirl go on a wild ride with an unplanned pregnancy and finally admitting their feelings for each other and figuring out life in general as new parents

warnings: pregnancy, morning sickness, smut, like alot of smut in this one, christmas themed even though it's march!, ex boyfriend meets new boyfriend and it's not pretty. rooster becomes a cowboy.

hi my loves :) been a minute for this one huh? anyway, please remember that this series is open for requests!

series masterlist here, series playlist here.

thank @mamachasesmayhem for making our new header, shes the bestest !!

PART FOUR - the parents.

If you thought Jake was bad before the incident at the bar, he was even worse now. He hovered, and he followed, and when he wasn’t available to hover and follow, he enlisted his friends to do it for him and send quarterly reports back to him. You found it endearing at first, but as Thanksgiving came and went you were thoroughly annoyed and at wits end. It was one time, and you were doing so much better since your small stint in the labor and delivery ward of the hospital (that Jake declared you would not be giving birth in because he didn’t like the way the nurses talked to you sometimes), you had regular check ins with your doctor, and were taking medications and drinking as much liquid IV as you could to keep hydrated during spouts of being too nauseated to eat. You continuously told Jake that he didn’t need to have his friends watching over you on their days off, but he continuously did not listen to you (the Seresin Selective Hearing coming in full stride), so you were continuously apologizing to whichever poor squadron member was spread out on your couch or lingering in your kitchen when you would venture out of your bed in the morning. Your favorite days were Bob and Natasha days, Bob was always so sweet and gentle and calm. Though he still followed you with his eyes whenever you left his general area, you didn’t mind because never asked what you were doing or told you to take it easy. Even though you weren’t always hungry, you had taken to baking him something sweet the night before his days to be with you as a thank you.

Natasha was just straight up fun. “Fuck Jake.” She had said, and tossed you a pair of comfortable shorts and a shirt and had taken you on a walk down the beach on her first visit with you, and when you had checked her phone later when Jake texted her, you had found the string of lies she had been feeding him all day and laughed about it with her until he got home from work. “How was knitting, babygirl?” He had asked, setting his bag down with a kiss on your head. You grinned and locked eyes with Nat, telling him how calm and quiet it had been. She sent you a wink over his shoulder on her way out the door, and from then on out, she was officially your best girl friend.

You didn’t mind your days with Rooster either, but he was definitely a little more on edge, probably because he still had a rocky relationship with Jake and didn’t want to do anything to fuck it up, you couldn’t say you blamed him. Javy, on the other hand, was a carbon copy of Jake and the amount of times you had to remember to breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth as you tried not to beat him with a sock full of bars of soap was astonishing.

And if you thought Jake was bad during November, December was entirely worse the closer you got to christmas. If anything, he was stressing you out more than being sick was but you didn’t have the heart to tell him because he was obviously enjoying being able to take care of you, and who were you to say that he couldn’t? Your nerves and frustration became steadily worse as it got towards that time of the month, you ran around you and Jake’s apartment packing up both of your suitcases because knowing him he’d forget to pack his britches if you didn’t remind him to do it (he had in fact forgotten to pack his britches once on a vacation that both of your families had taken as teens). You also fretted and stewed about what you guys were going to tell your parents. Your small baby bump was no longer small and was kind of just..there. It would be noticed as soon as someone hugged you, and knowing Jake’s mama, she was going to hug you.

“Stop your worrying, babygirl..” He sighed from your left, his right hand coming to rest on your knee. You guys were crossing into Arizona, one more state left to go before you hit texas, and you were starting to get antsy. He had one hand on the steering wheel, slouched back in his seat as if his truck wasn’t outrageously big and hard to handle. “They’re gonna be okay..”

You bring your attention to his face, about to speak when you’re cut off by a loud snore in the back seat. You crinkle your nose in slight disgust, peaking behind you. Rooster was as manspread as the backseat of a GMC allowed him to be, his long legs spread wide and his even longer torso leaned against the door and seat as his head rolled against the window. He had had no other plans for the holiday, and you could see the loneliness in his eyes when he said it and gosh darn it you just couldn’t say no to those big sad eyes, so you invited him on the trip home. You thought your dad would love him, and so would Jake’s brothers. “He seems to have made himself comfortable.” You chuckle, turning back around to face the front. Jake only hums in response, his hand going up to rub your belly gently before he takes it away to place it back on the steering wheel.

Not too much longer after that you noticed a tall McDonalds sign a little ways off the freeway and your stomach grumbled loudly, and your mouth watered as you thought about how good a chicken sandwich and fries sounded. “Jake, baby, get off the freeway up ahead!” You say, whacking his bicep a few times in excitement as you bounce in your seat a little bit. “Pull into the McDonalds!”

Jake hums in slight disgust but does as you say, who was he to decline you of food when you were hardly ever hungry? He only hoped that you wouldn’t throw it up all over his freshly cleaned interior.

Two chicken sandwiches and french fries later, you were back on the road, dancing in your seat happily to whatever was streaming through the radio as you munched on french fries and an M&M McFlurry.

Jake was insistent on making the long drive to the Seresin Ranch in one go, he hated stopping, so what part of the drive wasn’t spent with you and Rooster goofing off with each other, playing weird car games and trying to rope Jake into them, was spent with you sleeping, which is what you were doing when Jake slowed his truck down to turn left onto a long dirt road, the metal archway just above the electric fence that slid open spelled out his family’s name in big bold lettering.

It hadn’t snowed just yet in this part of Texas but it was definitely cold enough to have frozen some of the water puddles that littered the well worn dirt drive so he drove carefully, both hands on the wheel just as you started to stir in your seat, your head having bounced off the window as he hit a particularly big pothole. You groaned, rubbing your eyes and your belly. It wasn’t going to be a secret too much longer, you realized as your bleary eyes focused on the lights of the ranch house just up ahead.

“Sorry Babygirl, I was trying to be gentle..” He murmurs, looking over at you with a slight pout tugging at the corners of his lips. You hum in response, stretching in your seat. You could make out your Daddy’s John Deere Gator the closer you got, and you started to get more nervous and excited all at the same time. You had told all of your family that two of you were together, you weren’t really sure how else you were supposed to explain your prolonged trip to California where you essentially moved in with him, but you both had been hesitant to tell them about the baby, knowing that questions were going to be asked, and that his Mama was going to want to fly out the moment you told her, and you just weren’t ready for that. You weren’t really ready for this either, but you knew you didn’t have a choice.

“S’okay,” You yawned, checking in the backseat. Rooster had started dozing off again too so you shook his knee, his eyes flew open instantly and he sat up at attention. “We’re home..” You say. The Seresin’s home was just as much yours as your own home was, and the same went for Jake with your house. The two of you were always at one or the other, practically living at each others houses in the summers, this was and always had been home, and if you wanted to be really sentimental and make yourself cry, Jake had always been your home too.

Rooster moves his head so it’s poking out between the two of you, over the center console of the truck. “Damn, Jake..” He breathes, taking in what bit of the ranch he could see in the dark of the night, the big texan sky giving little illumination tonight. You knew that his words would really be emphasized in the morning when he saw it in all of it’s glory. The Seresin Ranch was a working ranch, full of cattle and acres of land, whereas yours was only a personal ranch, your father living off of the land and making enough money here and there off of cattle sales. It was more than enough to raise you and support your mama, it had been a happy life, but life at the Seresin’s was just different.

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, Bradshaw.” Jake drawls, pulling his truck into the drive, right behind his mama’s much smaller SUV. The dome lights pop on overhead as he opens his door before pulling the keys out of the ignition, not bothering to honk the horn to alert them of your guys’ presence. He was more worried about getting you out of the car and into bed. It was damn near midnight by now, and you had only been dozing for less than an hour. He knew you and the baby needed sleep.

He comes around the front of the truck and opens your door in the time it takes for you to unbuckle and stretch in your seat, Bradley having gotten out as soon as Jake did. “Come on mama, lets get you inside..” When he wasn’t calling you Babygirl, he had taken to calling you mama and it did something else entirely to your already hormonally raging body and when it rolled off of his tongue in his own mama’s driveway, you just knew you were in for the longest christmas of your life because there was no way in hell you were getting down and dirty in Mama Seresin’s house. You take his outstretched hand and swing your feet out of the truck, landing on the running boards in the dark. “Easy, it’s a little wet.”

“Thank you, baby..” You say, reaching up on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his scruffy cheek. He hums, a hand going to the small of your back to pull you flush against his body, or as flush as you can be with a round belly. “You ready?” You ask quietly, listening to Bradley unload the luggage from the bed of the truck.

Jake sighs, rubbing the small of your back. “Not really,” He says, pulling back to look down at you with a little grin on his lips. “But it will be better the faster we get in there and get the shock and surprise done and over with.” You nod in response and he simply kisses your forehead, going to help Bradley with the bags.

The boys are the first ones into the house, you follow them almost sheepishly, heat blooming across your face when you realize that this is it. Your daddy is in the midst of hugging Jake, giving him a “Good to have you home, son”, and shaking Bradley’s hand, an impressed look across his typically hardened features when he realizes how strong his grip is. “You can tell how good a man is by how strong he grips your hand.” He always says, and Bradley must be a damn good man because your daddy shakes his hand out when they pull away.

His eyes lock on you standing in the open door of the Seresin house, a home that was just as much a second house to you as it was to your daddy, and a grin spreads across his face. “Com’ere, honey!”He practically shouts, pulling you into him by the arms. Your belly presses against his as his arms go around you, and just as he’s rubbing your back he seems to notice it, hands gripping you by the shoulder he pushes you away for a moment, looking down. “...honey?”

Jake is by your side almost immediately, ready to step in if needed. “Sir, Mama, Daddy..” He says, addressing his whole family. His brothers are behind his mom, and they’re all looking on with interest. “We have an announcement..”

You keep your eyes on your dad, watching his face as you speak. “You’re gonna be a Papa, daddy..” You say quietly, wanting him to hear the news first. At first, there’s nothing, no sign of any kind of emotion on his face, eyebrows furrowed, until a grin breaks across his lips.

“You hear that?!” He shouts, raising your arm up in the air as if he had just won the super bowl. “I’m gonna be a fuggin, Papa!” A chorus of celebration is shouted throughout the entrance of the house, and one by one you hug your way through the family, finally coming to a rest by Bradley about half an hour later, your eyes drooping and shoulders sagging.

“Alright guys,” Jake says, looking up from his conversation with his mama to see you using Bradshaw as a support pillar. “It’s time to get her to bed, been a long day and a rough few months for her with the pregnancy sickness and all that..”

The next morning fares slightly less busy for you, though the whole family seems to be home and all eyes are on you when you venture out of Jake’s old bedroom at around eight thirty in the morning, way later than normally allowed on the ranch. You can’t help the blush that creeps up your face as you head through the large living room toward the kitchen. “Well good mornin’ Babygirl,” Jake’s brother, Nash, drawls at you, lifting his coffee mug to his lips with a wink as he passes you in the kitchen doorway. His boots were covered in dirt and it was clear that he and his brother had all been out working already. “Sleep good?”

“Yeah, actually.” You say, smile on your face as you walk into the kitchen, opening the fridge. “Morning, Mama..” You smile, looking over your shoulder at Jake’s mom. “You send Bradley out to work with the boys?”

She was handling a slab of some kind of meat, putting it in a marinade, probably for dinner tonight you realize. “He’s running cattle with Jake and Brian, doin’ a damn fine job of it too from what Nash just told me.” She says, turning to the sink to wash her hands before turning back to you just as you’re pouring yourself a glass of orange juice. “Can I see the belly?”

You laugh, but oblige, not even stopping to think about how you look much farther along than the amount of time that you’ve been with Jake as you lift your shirt, and walk around the kitchen island. Her hands go to her face and she grins happily before reaching out to touch your belly, warm hands gently caressing the skin. “It’s Dalton’s, isn’t it?” She asks, suddenly, looking up at you and you choke on the juice you were sipping on, stepping back away from her hands. “Oh relax honey, I’m not upset, honest..but do you think I was born yesterday? I’ve had five babies, i’m not stupid.”

“I, um..” You stammer, not sure what to say. You and Jake hadn’t prepared for this at all. You climb up onto a stool that sat at the Island, your head spinning. “Ma’am, I can explain..”

She waves her hand in the air, looking at you with noting but love as she smiles. “Babygirl,” It really was your God given name when it came to this family, you realize. “We all knew you were gonna end up together at some point in time, and if this is what brought you together then so be it, I could care less..my son isn’t stupid, I know he know’s that baby isn’t his and I’m just glad that it kicked you both in your asses finally…”

You spend the morning talking with her, helping her prepare the foods for dinner. You were honestly relieved that she knew the truth, and even more relieved that she wasn’t upset at all. You knew Jake would be happy too, he hated keeping secrets (especially from his mama).

Once you were finished in the kitchen, you made your way over to your family’s property, climbing over the fence like you used to when you were kids. It was chilly out, you wore one of Jake’s hoodies and a pair of sweatpants as you made your way to the burial site for your mama, spending a little while there before making your way to the house. Your daddy was gone, off in town somewhere so you meandered around on your own, finding yourself in your old bedroom, staring happily at the photos of you and Jake throughout the years that you had stuck to various surfaces.

He found you there an hour later, going through old things in your dresser drawer. “You look so damn good in my clothes, babygirl..” He says, pressing his lips in a chaste kiss just below your ear. You hadn’t heard him come in and he scared the bejeezus out of you, which makes him grin as he looks at you in the mirror, his hands going under the hem of his maroon aggies hoodie and straight to your stomach. “Been looking for you all day babygirl..”

You sigh happily as his lips find their way down your neck, his cowboy hat lifting off of his head as he goes. “You found me..” You breathe, watching him in the mirror. Your hormones were horrible lately, and you were always ready to go for him and it seemed like he could sense it on you, almost like a dog. You loved it.

“Uh-huh, all alone too..” One of his hands moves from your belly to your tit, his whole hand cupping it with a firm squeeze that has you leaning your head back against him, already putty in his hands. “Y’know..I always wanted to fuck you in here babygirl..” Your thighs clench at his words, his voice and musky smell from working outdoors all day flooding your senses.

“..please..” You whimper, pressing your ass back against his denim clad half hard cock, turning your head to capture his lips though he doesn’t let you. He catches your jaw in his hand, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“What was that, babygirl?” He asks softly, his other hand dropping from your tit to pull your hips back against him even more, rubbing himself against you. “You askin’ me to fuck you?” The hand that was still on your belly moves down lower, slipping with ease into the waistband of your sweatpants, or rather, his sweatpants, and into your panties, cupping your already disgustingly wet mound. “Yeah..you were askin’ me to fuck you.” He practically growls, voice a deep rumble in his chest.

You’re not entirely sure how it happens, but somehow you’re bent over your dresser, arms bracing yourself upright as Jake slams into you from behind, your head thrown back against his chest as his thick cock hits that spot that has you seeing nothing but white spots and saying only his name. One of your legs is cocked up on the top of the dresser, the position giving him better access to your pussy from behind, his hands gripping your hips with what you’re sure is a bruising strength but you couldn’t possibly care less because god, Jacob Seresin was fucking you in your teenaged bedroom and it was all you could fucking think about.

“Jake, jake, jake, oh-, my..ohhhhh” You sputtered out, your pussy clenching down on him so hard that he thought it was going to bruise.

“Yeah, I know babygirl, I know..” He grunts in your ear, lips marking up any inch of visible skin he possibly could. He felt fucking feral in that moment, but goddamn it was the best feeling. “That’s my fuckin’ girl..takin’ my cock so fuckin’ good f’me babygirl..so fuckin’ good..” There’s not even words leaving your mouth anymore, just filthy, lewd sounds as he continues to fuck you into oblivion, your legs going weak as a third orgasm hits you like a wall of bricks, your arms going weak to the point that you start to collapse.

“Aht-aht, I gotcha,” He’s chasing his own orgasm as wraps his arm around you, a hand at the base of your throat to force you to look into the mirror. “Look at you babygirl, look at how fucking sexy you look like this, huh?” You could swear there were tears coming out of your eyes, but you wanted to look but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from his eyes in the mirror, looking into the beautiful expanse of green as he fucked into you with wreckless abandon.

“I love you, i love, i love you..” You mewl, back arching as the overstimulation of your three orgasms starts to rockett though your body, you keep chanting it, not able to stop the flow of words even as you feel hot ropes of his cum paint your insides, even when he finally stops fucking into you and finally just holds you to him, cock still stuffed into your overflowing pussy.

“Holy fuckin’ shit baby..” He breathes, head dropping to your shoulder as you both catch your breath. You can’t help but let out a chuckle. “Look at you makin’ all my teenage dreams come true, huh?”

“Just like that song, right baby?” You say meekly, your body completely exhausted now that he had worn you out. He smiles against your skin, placing a loving kiss as he starts to finally pull out of you, his cock going flaccid. “M’sleepy..” You say, a yawn over taking you as you stretch, Jake having wandered off out of your room.

“Should probably take a nap, huh?” He says, a damp rag hanging from his hands as he bends down to help clean you up. You jump at the sensation, your pussy still sensitive. He places a kiss at your pelvic bone, looking up at you almost apologetically as you run a hand softly through his mussed hair. “Mama is making some kind of roast for supper, be ready in a few hours i think..” And then you remember your conversation from earlier. “What’s wrong with your face?”

“Jake, baby..” He stands up after helping you back into your sweatpants, ever the fucking gentleman he is. “Your Mama knows..”

“What do you mean?” He asks, wrapping his arms around your waist after placing his stetson back on his head. His eyebrows are furrowed, and as you look down at your belly and look back up at him he suddenly realizes. “How?!”

“She asked to see my belly this morning,” You say, resting your chin on his chest as you look up at him, arms wrapping around him. “She’s not stupid, baby..she’s only had a million of you boys, she knows how far along i should look if we were basing the baby off of how long we’ve been together..”

Jake hums, kissing your forehead. “Was she mad?” You shake your head, small smile on your lips. “Good, because I don’t like fighting with my Mama, but I would have if she was mad at you, at us..” You squeeze him then, realizing once more that this man truly does love you. “Let’s get back, yeah? I think your daddy is coming over too..”

Christmas with Jake’s family is amazing, you had spent weeks finding and wrapping gifts for each of his brothers, and even his Mama too. His daddy on the other hand, you just gave a smile and a kiss on the cheek as you slipped him a new canister of chewing tobacco, to which he grumbles a thank you and pats your belly. Your own daddy is almost brought to tears as you hand him his present, a gift wrapped scrap book (something your mama had been very into doing), some the pages full of your pregnancy journey so far.

“Honey, this is the best gift..” He says, eyes watery as he pulls you in for a big hug, planting a wet kiss to the top of your head.

From everyone in the family, you and Jake received alot of baby gifts, clothes and rattles and what nots..and from your daddy, a yellow quilted blanket, just the right size for a little baby or toddler with your mama’s first and middle initials stitched into one of the corners. You lifted it to your nose and inhaled, it smelled of her perfume.

“Daddy..” You voice quivers just as much as your lips, your eyes welling with tears. “This is perfect..” You say, showing it to Jake. “It was mama’s baby blanket, she always said that she was saving it for me if I ever had one of my own..” You wipe your eyes with a tissue that Jake hands you. “She must have been working on it before she passed, it smells like her..” You couldn’t even describe how much you missed your mom, how you wished you were going through this time of your life with her by your side, and even though she wasn’t here physically any more, this gift from your Daddy just made it feel as though she was.

The rest of the day is a blur, the family happily bantering as they all sit down for supper. Bradley had even been welcomed with open arms into the Seresin family, having been ladled with gifts of his own even though he was a last minute addition to the family. You had honestly never been happier, had never felt more at home and at peace than you had in that day. And unfortunately, it all came crashing down the next day.

You, Jake and Bradley had all decided to save the last day of your trip to pack up your old apartment. There wasn’t much that you actually wanted to take with, most of it just clothes and keep sakes, but it was enough to fill up a small uhaul trailer. You had already listed a bunch of your furniture on sale on FB Marketplace, and were meeting the buyers as Jake carried things down to the trailer.

About halfway through the day, when you’re freezing and tired and ready to take a nap, the devil shows up at the doorstep. “So, I see you’re back in town.”

You turn from where you had been packing a bunch of your books into a box, heart racing. Jake had gone down the road to the mexican restaurant to pick up lunch for you guys, you had had the sudden craving and who was he to deny it when you spent most of the pregnancy not eating? Bradley was downstairs, he had helped a nice lady carry your couch down and put it into the back of her pick up and hadn’t come back up yet.

“What do you want?” You ask, a hand going almost protectively to your belly. It was shown off well today, you had opted for workout leggings and a lululemon zip up jacket with a tanktop underneath. Your belly looked quite prominent and it seemed to be the only think his eyes were drawn to. “You shouldn’t be here, Dalton.”

He sniffs, dark eyes looking up at you. “I see you kept the bastard.” He takes a step into the apartment and you back up, nervous. “Where’s your precious Jakey?” He asks, looking around the corner and down into the hallway. “Word around town is that the two of you are dating now..”

“We are.” You say, swallowing thickly. “We came home for christmas and so I could pack up all of the stuff I want with me in california.” You think you hear footsteps coming down the hallway outside the door and you can only hope that its Jake or Bradley. “What do you want?”

“I want a word with the son of a bitch you cheated on me with.”

“I never-”

“I don’t think thats gonna happen, pal.” Bradley came around the corner into the doorway, leaning against it. He looks at you and you relax only slightly, his black Stetson pulled low over his brow. “I think you need to leave, the lady looks uncomfortable with you being here.”

“Oh yeah?” Dalton asks, turning to glare at him. “Is she fucking you too?”

“Dalton!” You half yell, catching his attention as Bradley stands up straight. “I never cheated on you, and I’m not fucking anyone besides Jake, not that it’s any of your business.”

The man scoffs. “Yeah right, you’re a fuckin’ whore..how else would you be pregnant.”

“Okay, it’s time for you to leave.” Bradley says, stepping into the room. His neck is red and you can tell that he’s angry.

“Oh, and you’re gonna make me?” He looks back at you, pointing to Bradley. “Who the fuck is this guy, huh?”

“He’s gonna be the least of your worries if you don’t get the fuck out of here.” Jake stands in the doorway and you immediately run to him, clutching his arm tightly. The situation was clearly growing tense and was starting scare you for real.

taglist:

@bellaireland1981 @sky0401 @memoriesat30 @bat-luna-cat @memeorydotcom @mamachasesmayhem @kmc1989 @justherebecausesafarisucks @mrowphine @djs8891 @stepheewdgirlie @roosteraloha

#top gun maverick #kara writes #top gun #jake seresin #jake seresin smut #hangman smut #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman fic #jake seresin fanfic

174 notes · View notes

freakshowtwopointoh · 7 months

Note

Hi!! Can I request jealous Jordan li where reader is spending a lot of time with someone else, maybe for a school project or something and Jordan notices and is like, nope, not happening, this one's mine bc they're so in love with reader and want all of the attention

Whew, that was a lot, haha,

Thank you!!!!

*not sure if u want established partners or situationship w feelings or something else, but i think imma go with situationship bc thats always the vibe for jordan lol if u want more established relationship lmk*

Debate club was a sensible extracurricular, and you had been doing it since your school stopped having model UN in 9th grade. It wasn't your favorite thing in the world, but you liked to argue, so it worked out. This week, you were arguing the "for" case with your teammate for the semester, Blake Mathers. He's a grating sophomore with floppy hair, and telekinesis powers you've only seen him use to enable his own laziness. The head of the club was nice enough, but he was insistent on "teamwork" when you'd much rather write alone. It was exhausting, trying to filter your thoughts and opinions, and allowing others to shine was not your style.

You try to pay attention to what Blake was saying about the topic, but all you were thinking about was Jordan Li. Ever since you made out at one of Dusty's infamous parties, they had invaded your senses and your thoughts. They'd catch you staring during class, or you'd wear a tiny skirt to a party, and you'd end up in a closet, or a car, or a bedroom, all limbs and heavy breathing.

"Um, hello? Did you hear me?" You shake your head.

"Sorry. Say that again?"

"The argument we wrote yesterday. It's gone - my computer got fucked." Ah, crap. This is the second time Blake's stupidity has made you re-do work. You'd done some research at the start of the week, and he'd forgotten to mention the topic had been changed. You sigh.

"Well, fuck. Alright, let's go back to the library then." You turn around and start walking, trying not to show your disappointment. You'd been hoping to "run into" Jordan at the JitterBean - hence the tight-ass skinny jeans.

Waste of an outfit, you think bitterly, pushing open the glass doors and setting up at the table that you and Blake had been using to do your assignments. Thankfully you'd saved your notes from yesterday, so you began reconstructing your argument while Blake screwed off.

You weren't paying much attention to what he was doing until you saw him fucking with Justine. Now there's some bullying you can get behind. You giggle, and watch as he makes another paper airplane fly around her head. She glares over at him and storms out, which makes you laugh out loud. The librarian glares, and you exchange a guilty look with Blake before getting back into writing.

The afternoon goes by easily after that. You were vaguely aware of other students milling about or studying nearby, but you were in the zone. Finally, at almost 8, the argument was done, and you saved it in multiple places just in case.

You wave goodbye to Blake, happy that the session went reasonably ok and the work was done. Saturday's debate was going to be a blast.

"Have fun on your little date with Mathers?" Jordan was leaning against the outside wall of the library, expression unreadable.

"Is the infamous Jordan Li jealous?" Their eyes harden slightly.

"Not jealous, just lookin out for you. He's a moron." They begin walking beside you, not acknowledging how unhinged they were behaving. Just looking out for you? If they weren't so damn hot, you might slap them. But the fact that they were asking meant.... something, right? You ignored how that made your heart swoop and just kept walking.

"We have debate club together, and he keeps fucking shit up, that's all." You say, in spite of yourself. If you were smarter, you'd let them wonder what you were doing with him. But you couldn't keep from looking at them, and feeling disappointed you can't make out any relief in their eyes. But then, their arm is snaked around your waist and their lips are at your ear.

"You wear those skin fucking tight jeans to just study with him?" You grit your teeth, forcing your mouth to not say what you wanted so desperately to say: 'No, I wore them for you, and you're clearly the idiot if you can't tell that I am so wrapped around your finger that I will dress up just in case I see you.' and just roll your eyes instead. They let their hand slide from your waist to your back pocket, daring you to stop them. And of course you don't. With every inch their hand travels, your heart skips another beat. When they squeeze your ass ever so slightly, a whimper sneaks out before you can stop it.

And with that, you're being pressed against a tree and their lips are on your neck.

"Fuck, J." You curse as their teeth sink into your skin.

"You're mine, baby. Only mine." They murmur in your ear.

"Always have been." You say back, almost moaning as they continue their assault on your neck. They pull away at this.

"Yeah? That why you're spending all your time with Mathers and co instead of me, in such," They pause to run their hands on your hips, pulling you tight against them. "delicious clothes."

"I thought you weren't jealous." You murmur, sliding your hand up their back. "But I wore these, and what's underneath, for you and you alone. He's just a moron who's forced me to re-do my work twice this week alone."

"Oh, you poor baby. Let me take you up and make everyone hear who really owns you." You barely hold back a moan as they drag you up to your dorm to fulfill their promise.

#jordan li #gen v #gen v prime #jordan li x reader #gen v smut #gen v fic #jordan li imagine #request #reqs open

278 notes · View notes

izels-writing · 4 months

Text

r. lupin — flirting

Pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

Summary: in which y/n flirts every chance she gets and remus can’t help but secretly love it

Warnings: suggestive language (it’s a fluff fic tho!), pregnancy (?, just toward the end)

was y/n good at flirting? yes and no. she was horrible at flirting with other people, absolutely horrible. but there was one person that she were somehow amazing at flirting with.

remus lupin.

she wasn't sure why. she figured it was the shyness or the fact that he only really spoke to lily evans or his best friends james potter, sirius black, and peter pettigrew. other people he tended to cut conversations short or he pretended to have to go. he never seemed to fancy being around other people.

that's what made her so interested in him. how couldn't she be?

"come on, y/n! we'll be late!" y/f/n called out, pulling y/n out of the common room and rushing down the corridor. y/n huffed and followed quickly behind her rushed friend.

finally arriving in potions, y/f/n took their seat next to their boyfriend/girlfriend/partner, leaving her to wander over to your usual seat. one she had next to a certain nerdy, quiet yet witty boy. most of the time in potions, she could hear him mutter some smart comment under his breath, making her giggle and earn herself a detention. though he usually muttered a quiet apology and focused on the potion instead of trying to get her out of the detention, she never took offense and shrugged it off. always.

the bell rang, and like clockwork, four boys burst inside. one had black, unruly hair and rectangular glasses. another was handsome with black, long hair and stormy grey eyes. the shortest one was giggling, fixing his uniform on his stubby body. the last, y/n's personal favorite, was a tall and lanky boy who had more scars than bare skin and slightly toned arms.

there were many things no one noticed about remus, things that y/n did. he always wore baggy clothes, but when he brought his sleeves up he had toned and slight muscle to his arms, or how when he stretch his shirt would ride up just enough for her to see the muscle that had likely built up over the years.

"take a seat boys, class is just about the begin..." slughorn sighed, like he did almost every day.

"no problem sluggy." james potter, the quidditch jock of the group, grinned, making his way to sit next to lily evans, his (to her misfortune as she proclaimed falsely) potions partner.

"say, did you do something to your hair today?" sirius asked in fake curiosity, earning a stern nod over to his seat from slughorn. both he and peter walked over to their seats, along with remus, who quickly sat next to y/n.

"hey handsome." y/n winked, smiling teasingly at him. remus gave a small smile back, used to this kind of behavior from her.

"hi y/n." he replied quietly, getting out some of the essentials for today's lesson, which had been written by slughorn on the blackboard.

"today, my bright students, we'll be brewing the draught of peace. a potion you should all be familiar with. it'll take up most of the class time, and afterward, i want you to test them on each other. but only a small dosage, as too much and brewed wrongly can result in a very long and irreversible sleep. the recipe for this commonly used potion is on page 342 of your textbooks. you may begin."

y/n took quick notice to how slughorn sat down at his desk and lied his head down. while she wasn't always observant, it was a little clear that their professor was recovering from a strong hangover.

"don't you just love it when our teacher tasks us with O.W.L potions because he can't handle his liquor." y/n mumbled, turning your page to the one slughorn had mentioned.

"oh definitely...it's right next to when james and sirius drink on a school night." remus replied sarcastically.

she chuckled, "sounds fun."

"very. especially when i wake up to one of them vomiting in the bathroom." remus grinned, walking off to retrieve some ingredients.

y/n watched him grab the things, fighting the urge to think of any flirtatious comments. instead, she placed her cauldron on the table and started reading the instructions.

when he finally returned, they both started on the potion.

"okay, now add the powdered unicorn horn. the right amount, y/n, i would rather not be put in a irreversible sleep because of your antics." remus remarked, watching y/n carefully as she measured out the ingredient.

"gee, you sure have a way with words for such a big..." she glanced down flirtatiously, "mouth. don't worry remus, i can handle such a large task. though i'm sure that's not the only large thing i can handle-"

"y/n!" remus gasped quietly.

y/n acted nonchalant and added the horn, looking over for the next ingredient. stir until red.

"alright now stir." y/n said, nodding at the cauldron. remus nodded and started stiring, making her smirk and watch him. he fought his blush hard under her gaze, but he couldn't help it.

y/n felt giddy every time she could make him blush. it felt accomplishing for some reason.

"am i making you nervous, mr. prefect?" she asked, leaning against the desk with a smirk.

"no, just not used to being stared at creepily." remus retorted, stiring still.

"oh i highly doubt that, such a handsome face and an even better smile, i doubt you don't get stared at." y/n replied. remus rolled his eyes, making her frown momentarily, but nonetheless she regained her confidence as soon as his lip twitched upward.

—

after the two them finished their potion and tested it, and helped mediate a argument between lily and james, class quickly came to an end. the bell rang and slughorn shot up, bringing all of the attention to himself.

"good work today! for homework i want you all to write a small essay on the draught of peace potion and its history, which will be due on friday. have a wonderful night and i'll see you all tomorrow." slughorn said, walking out quickly.

y/n groaned and started shoving her things back into her bag. she wasn't very good at researching, mainly because she always seemed to get distracted on anything else. and there was also the fact that she hated essays in general.

remus looked over at the girl, wondering why exactly she had been groaning. under her breath, he could hear her mumbling about being rubbish at research and essays. he contemplated his next decision for a moment. should he ask her to study? though he didn't admit to it, he quite enjoyed the girls company at times. but did he really want to deal with your obvious flirting for minutes or maybe even hours?

his mind immediately answered yes, even if every time she flirted he struggled to refrain from kissing her right then and there to shut her up. lovingly of course.

"hey, do you want to study with me for this essay?" he asked, making y/n look up quickly. she smiled widely and nodded.

"of course, i'd love to." she replied.

"alright—um, just meet me in the library thursday at three?" he suggested awkwardly. y/n grinned.

"alright, i look forward to our date," she winked and walked off, swinging her bag over her shoulder. remus watched her as she did, smiling subtly at how she'd subconsciously fix her hair or how she'd laugh at whatever y/f/n had just said.

"did you, moonikens, just land yourself a date with someone who has so painfully obvious been into you for some time now?" a teasing voice behind him ask. remus rolled his eyes.

"it's not a date, pads, i'm just helping her study." remus replied, swinging his bag over his shoulder while the pair waited for james and peter.

"well, i can tell you that my study dates don't usually end in just studying," sirius said, nudging remus.

"he means they end in blowjobs." james said bluntly. remus scrunched up his nose, "well, i gathered that much."

"merlin, let's just please get to the kitchens..." peter mumbled.

——

the date had come faster than expected, much faster. so much so, that y/n almost forgot about it. she had so much piled onto herself, with homework assignments.

"y/n, don't you have that date or something?" y/f/n asked, shutting their book and looking up at their friend.

y/n nodded and looked at the clock.

2:55 p.m. it read.

she gasped and shot up, throwing her things inside her bag. bidding a quick goodbye, she ran out of her common room and started toward the stairs.

"watch it!"

"hey!"

"woah!"

y/n could care less how many people she bumped into, she didn't want to be late. lupin likely wouldn't wait for her if she was. once she reached the library, she stumbled through, ignoring madam pinces glare, and ran toward a dirty-blonde haired boy.

throwing herself in the seat in front of him, she took deep breaths, panting quietly.

his watch rang and remus smirked, turning his arm so that she could see it.

3:00 p.m.

"right on time, l/n," he grinned.

"aw, are we back to last name basis again?" y/n mumbled, pouting playfully.

remus rolled his eyes and took out his own materials for their potions essay, making her do the same.

"okay, we could start by using our text books to find the basic information. you don't seem to open yours much," remus said teasingly.

y/n grinned, "why would i, when i have someone so much better to look at in potions?" remus quickly caught on and flushed a light pink, rolling his eyes.

"anyway, we can finish this essay in about an hour and a half i say, sound good?" remus asked, looking up at y/n.

"sounds great, handsome," y/n replied nonchalantly. unbeknownst to her, remus felt a little jittery every time she called him that.

as the hour and a half passed, y/n was surprisingly the first to finish her essay. remus wrote his last sentence as y/n began to fidget in her seat and toss her muggle stress ball into the air and caught it.

"okay! i am done!" remus grinned, quietly shutting his text books and putting away his essay.

"cool, and it's only 4:30," you smirked.

remus leaned back in his chair. "y'know, you didn't have to wait up for me...you'd could've gone..."

y/n shrugged and grinned slyly, "i know, but i wanted to. besides, now that we're both done, we can hang out!"

"no, look," remus shook his head, "i'm a bore and you'd immediately want to leave,"

y/n raised her eyebrow. "sounds like a challenge, what do you got?"

remus chuckled and shrugged. "okay...want to go to the kitchens and make tea and then read?"

y/n thought for a moment. she wasn't one to stay still very well, that much was obviously since she was a young girl. however, doing this with remus didn't sound all too unappealing.

she leaned closer. "can you read to me?"

remus flushed as she grinned at her suggestion, and although it wasn't technically, it felt inherently intimate. she clearly didn't see it this way, so he couldn't either. he smiled warmly at her and nodded.

"yeah, i'll read to you." he smiled.

——

remus's voice was low and calming, and for some reason, felt like music in her ears. y/n laid her head on his lap, looking up at him as he read from the book. he had begun stroking her hair, making this situation even more relaxing.

she sat up for a moment, taking a sip of her tea, handing remus his cup as he asked for it. he paused his reading and smiled at her.

"you sure you're not bored yet?" he asked.

y/n shook her head. "of course not! i'm getting really into the story. mr. darcy is an ass, isn't he?" she took another sip of the tea.

remus nodded and chuckled. "he gets better, i promise."

"he better," y/n said, making a face, "elizabeth needs something better than that,"

"yes, she does," remus agreed. "if anything, you remind me of her,"

y/n grinned and raised an eyebrow teasingly. "do i? does that make you my mr. darcy?"

remus rolled his eyes playfully, pulling her to lay back down on his lap. "you wish...now, let me finish the chapter."

"as you wish, mr. lupin," y/n teased, remus' actions eliciting a laugh from her.

and for a moment as remus read and as y/n listened, y/n wasn't going out of her way to flirt obnoxiously with the boy and remus wasn't going out of his way to reject or wave off her attempts. instead, she listened to his silky voice and entered a relaxing mindset as she closed her eyes. meanwhile, remus glanced down at the girl every so often and couldn't help the ever growing smile on his face.

bonus:

remus lupin closed the book he held quietly, looking down at y/n who's eyes snapped open.

"was that really the end?" she frowned.

"well, there's a sequel, but i figured we should start it tomorrow," remus suggested. "we have that appointment early tomorrow,"

"but! but—it's not even that important? what're they gonna tell me? that the baby is growing hands? thanks, i would hope so!" y/n protested, sitting up with a struggle at the growing stomach she currently had. she wasn't too far along, but that didn't make it any easier to manage.

"these appointments are important, remember what lily told you?" remus lectured. "i promise we can start the sequel tomorrow..."

y/n frowned, pouting. "you're no fun."

remus placed a hand on her stomach, feeling a light kick, making y/n grin slightly. "one of us has to be the bad parent,"

"we both agreed it would be me," y/n reminded.

"we'll see when he's born, mrs. lupin," remus grinned.

y/n smiled warmly. "i suppose we will, mr. lupin."

#remus john lupin #remus lupin #remus x reader #remus x you #james potter #sirius black #peter pettigrew #the marauders #the marauders era

195 notes · View notes