#but this popped in my head as soon as he said it
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shroomyv · 2 days ago
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ᢉ𐭩-MORNING MUNCHER
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Pairing: mark Grayson X F!reader
Synopsis: you and mark are both hungry. You’re hungry for food, he’s hungry for something else.
Warning: (kinda) corny mark grayson, little smut horny Drabble
A/N: this may be my shortest story up to date. It’s just a lil horny Drabble I had to get off and out of my mind. I’ll post a few more short fics soon after this one and I hope you enjoy them even tho there isn’t much. Also pussy eating/obsessed mark for the win. (Finally, I’d like to say thanks for 300 hearts on my last fic that must mean yall are enjoying my shitty lil stories. request are open as well)
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It was already mid-morning—you and Mark enjoying another day off for once but you two still hadn’t done anything. You hadn’t even eaten.
“I'm hungry,” Mark said huffing into your neck as he held you tightly. “Well go get something to eat. Get me something too” You said back waiting for him to go off.
“I can get anything for us to eat right? Absolutely anything?” Mark said as he lifted from you. He had an absolute devious smile on his face but you weren’t paying much attention. “Yea anything-“
Before you could even finish your sentence, Mark was underneath the blankets latched onto your thigh getting ready to rip off your panties. “Mark!?” You shouted out his name trying to figure out what the hell he was even doing. “You said I can eat anything!”
Mark rebuddled as he was using your own words against you. Before you could protest further he got your panties off—he practically dived into your pussy. His face was stuffed in it as he inhaled for a second before pulling his face out. He just stared at it for a moment as if he was admiring your pussy.
“If you’re gonna eat it get on with it!” You shouted out. He loved how you went from protesting against it to wanting him to hurry the fuck up. He did as he was told—shoving his face right back in it as his tongue licked and sucked at your clit. You tried to move the blanket away as best as you could to see his face as you grabbed onto his head due to the pleasure. You felt like you were gonna pop already. He made sure he hit everything perfectly—only the best for you. Your thighs kept smashing in on his face and he’d just push em right back open and get back to work. He was no where near finished enjoying his meal.
“Oh…oh fuck mark…nhn.” You moaned and struggled to hold back wanting to have it last longer than it was currently. Mark spoke muffled
“Ust…mcum,” he said before going right back to sucking as you eventually cummed. His face was covered in your cum before he lifted his head. “I kinda want seconds what do you think?” Mark said with a smirk on his face. His lips coated in your cum and eyes beaming at you as he waited for your answer.
You wasted not a second to reply, “Absolutely.”
(Honestly, could’ve written more…if this does well enough who knows…👀
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puck-luck · 3 days ago
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i know you said a while ago that you’d consider writing for mat barzal but aren’t sure how to go about it and im just up late thinking about how barzy gives me suchhhh best friends to lovers vibes like hanging out ALL the time to the point where everyone assumes you guys are dating anyways, dropping literally everything when either of you needs the other, and things slowly progressing between you guys without either of you realizing it until one day one of your regular sleepovers is filled with so much sexual tension that you end up having crazy sex all over his apartment
closer than close | mat barzal
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warnings: friends to lovers, fighting with friends (anthony beauvillier's ex emma simard), sharing a toothbrush (grosser than unprotected p in v IMO), (speaking of!) unprotected p in v, french kissing, booty callllll, sex in unconventional places (against a wall), fingering, dirty talk i guess, allusions to squirting but it's kind of left up in the air so... enjoy!
pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader
wc: 3,911
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“You’re at Mat’s again?” Emma demands. Her outrage is no surprise to you. Ever since she and Tito broke up, she’s been more and more against your friendship with Mat. Sometimes you think it’s because she’s jealous that you remained friends with Tito’s friend after that ended, but sometimes you think she’s just mad that you’re denying something that isn’t there.
You shrug, untying the long socks from where they’re wrapped in your hair. The curls look good this time, unlike the last time you did heatless curls like this. Mat made fun of you relentlessly when they frizzed all over the place and curled all the wrong ways. “I haven’t left yet,” you reply. “I’ve been here all weekend.”
“Don’t you have work soon?” Emma asks.
“Yeah, that’s why I’m getting ready.” You squeeze a bit of toothpaste onto Mat’s toothbrush and pop it into your mouth. Emma makes a face at you and you make a face back. It’s simple– you forgot your toothbrush and Mat said you could use his. “And then I’ll probably come back. Mat’s injured and I’m bored in my lonely apartment, so we’re keeping each other company.”
Emma mumbles something you don’t catch.
“What?” you press. “What did you say?”
“All of this and you haven’t fucked,” Emma repeats, the look in her eyes growing sharp. “You keep denying it and keep denying that you want Mat and that he wants you, but you’ll spend three straight days at his apartment, sleeping in his bed and using his toothbrush. When are you going to admit that you guys are more than friends?”
“We’re not more than friends, Emma,” you say with a frown. “We’re close, but we’re not that close. I wish you’d stop saying that.”
Emma shakes her head and scoffs. “I have to go. Call me back when you figure things out.”
She hangs up and you frown, taking in the blank screen before you. You take only a split second to revel in confusion before you finish getting ready for the day. 
You try to push Emma’s comments out of your head, but they stick with you. You get to work and you’re still thinking about the look on her face through that tiny screen. You’re on your lunch break and start overthinking your friendship with Mat. You’ve always slept in the same bed because it’s easier– you’ve never wanted to mess up the pristinely folded sheets in his guest room. Plus, it’s not like you and Mat cuddle or anything. You stay on your side and he stays on his. You may have woken up with his arm over your stomach once or twice, but that’s a subconscious reaction to the chilly winter air. Mat keeps the apartment insanely cold. It’s not a surprise that his body tried to seek out your warmth. Even as you’re leaving for the day, you’re debating whether or not you should just go home to your own apartment rather than go back to Mat’s.
Your phone chimes with a text. It’s a picture of Mat and a steamer pot on the stove. He’s flashing a thumbs up in the picture and the accompanying message says, Making those dumplings you wanted! Hurry back or I’ll eat them all ;)
That sorts out your plans for the night. You don’t spare a second glance at the phone, nor the blue and orange hearts that you once put next to Mat’s contact name as a joke and never removed. 
The thought doesn’t cross your mind again until you’re laying on the couch with Mat, watching a movie before you go to bed. His head is on your lap and you’re carding your fingers through his hair. 
“That’s nice,” Mat murmurs.
It’s the first time he’s spoken in a while and it draws your attention to his lips. He’s practically falling asleep on your lap, eyes fluttering and nearly purring like a cat. Just this morning, you said you don’t cuddle with Mat, but here you are. He’s been pretty touchy today, or, maybe, you’re just noticing it more because Emma planted a seed in your mind.
You hum, twirling a strand of Mat’s hair between your fingers. You hope he doesn’t buzz it again. He’s done it twice now and, even though he can pull off the buzzcut, you prefer when his hair is this length. 
His lips are plush and pink and, well, Emma declared that you needed to figure it out. One little kiss, a tiny peck… that could be the end of it. You wouldn’t feel a thing, and neither would Mat, and you can tell Emma with absolute certainty that you and Mat are just friends.
You lean down and connect your lips for just a second. There’s no bright moment of realization washing over you, no life-changing feeling accompanied by a choir of angels. You kiss Mat and then you pull away.
He’s got that stupid look on his face, eyebrows raised and lips parted. “What was that?” Mat asks. 
You shrug. “Just wanted to see something.”
Mat seems to buffer. “By kissing me?”
“Yeah. Emma thinks we’re lying to ourselves when we say we’re just friends.”
“Emma… Tito’s ex?” Mat seems caught off guard. “She still thinks we’re hiding something?”
“I mean, she’s not the only one who thinks we’re more than friends. I’ve been thinking about it all day, so I just thought I’d go for it and see if I felt anything.”
Mat frowns and sits up. “You can’t tell something like that just from that measly little kiss you gave me. No one would feel anything from that shit. We have to actually kiss.”
A laugh bubbles up from your chest. “Actually kiss? What does that mean?”
“With tongue,” Mat replies. “If you still don’t feel anything after you kiss me with tongue– I’m pretty damn good with my tongue,” he sidebars with a wink, “Then you can tell Emma that she was wrong and you were right.”
“It just sounds like you want to kiss me with tongue,” you tease, squinting at Mat suspiciously.
He grins and wiggles his eyebrows at you. “We’re friends, but that doesn’t mean you’re not pretty,” Mat says. “I’m not against kissing you.” 
His words seem laden with a bit of seriousness, even though his smile and eyes are bright and joking. You don’t have the time to probe at that, not before Mat is reaching out and cradling your face in his palm. 
His smile is smaller, more gentle. His hand is warm.
When he pulls you in and parts your lips with a pass of his tongue, you feel a splash of dizziness run through your bones. Mat guides you, kissing you deeply. You can feel every curve of his mouth against your own. Almost immediately, you get the feeling that you should be memorizing this and noting the details.
Mat pulls away before you’re ready. “How was that?” he asks.
You blink at him for a moment, mouth opening and closing but not producing sounds.
He starts to laugh. “Speechless, huh?”
Your dumbfounded look turns to a glower. “Don’t brag, Mathew.”
“How can I not?” he teases. He thumbs at the side of your lip, wiping something from your face. “I just kissed you stupid.”
“Whatever,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest and turning back to the TV. 
You finish the movie without talking. His arm remains on the back of sofa during the duration of the film. You’ve never been more aware of Mat’s body next to yours, nor the space separating you. His arm is practically around your shoulders, but there are inches between your bodies, and your skin feels like it’s vibrating off of you. You go to bed with Mat, as normal, but in silence. There are miles between you and Mat in his king-size bed and for the first time in a long time, you consider going to the guest room.
The following morning is no better. You’re getting ready for work, packing your things up, making breakfast, and preparing to leave Mat’s apartment for at least the rest of the week. You assume that he’s still asleep, since he doesn’t have PT until the afternoon, but you hear footsteps padding down the hall as you reach the front door. He follows you all the way to the doorframe, resting his hand on the crown moulding and looking down at you.
“Have a good day at work,” Mat mumbles. “Are you coming back here tonight?”
You look away and shrug. “I should probably go home for once.”
Mat is silent for a beat too long. “Okay,” he says simply. “I’ll miss you.” Mat bends down and presses a kiss to your cheek, catching the very corner of your lips. He pats the doorframe and gives you a wave as you start down the hallway. Your first few steps are slow and confused, because what the hell is happening and why did Mat kiss you again, but you feel like running by the time he closes the door behind you.
You’re distracted at work. It’s worse than yesterday. You feel jittery. When you go home at the end of the day, your apartment feels empty. You crinkle your nose and rub your arms, trying to warm up. It’s weird being alone for the night after staying with Mat for a few days. You got really used to being next to him, eating dinner with him, watching stupid shit on the TV while laying on his couch, and sleeping in his bed.
You lay in bed, unable to sleep. You toss and turn, scroll on your phone, try and sleep again, and fail. It’s 2am when your phone vibrates with a text and you check it immediately, hoping for something interesting.
It’s Mat.
‘Miss you :(’, he says. There’s a picture of him pouting into the camera, his bedside lamp turned to the lowest setting, just bright enough that he doesn’t need to use the flash. 
Your mouth automatically matches Mat’s. You sigh, zooming in on his tousled hair. You scroll across the picture, lingering on Mat’s bare chest. You stare for much too long. Much too long… to be considered friends. Mat’s kiss has really messed with your mind and now you can’t stop thinking about him and his tongue and his hands and–
You bury your face in the pillow and groan. You don’t bother to change out of your pajamas. You throw on your bathrobe, just to combat the cold, and within fifteen minutes, you’re hitting the buzzer to call up to Mat’s apartment.
“Hello?” Mat’s fuzzy voice comes through the speaker. 
Idiot, you admonish in your head. Who answers the buzzer at 2am? Especially when you’re a desirable athlete… God, Mat, you’re so dumb.
“It’s me,” you say. “I couldn’t sleep either.”
You hear the door click, unlocking, and you push your way inside. Your foot taps impatiently as you wait in the elevator, arms crossed over your chest. As the doors open, you spot Mat waiting at his front door, leaning against the frame like he was when you left him this morning.
His face is lined with sleep and there are lines on his chest like he just scratched an itch. 
You’re kissing him again as soon as you get close enough. You throw your arms around Mat’s neck and he wraps his arms around your middle, lifting you up until you naturally twine your legs around his waist. 
Mat’s kissing you back, moving into his apartment and closing the front door behind him. His bottom lip is between yours. You suck and nibble it, soothing the skin with your tongue after you bite hard enough for Mat to groan. His hands are planted on your behind now, kneading the skin.
“So you’ve been thinking about it too,” Mat breathes out between kisses. 
“All day.” Your hands work up into his hair and pull.
Mat shivers and his mouth drops open at the tug of your fingers. He turns toward the wall and pushes you up against it, trapping you with his body and pressing his groin against yours. He’s deliciously hard and you grind down on the bulge in his sweats. Mat moans and separates his lips from your mouth, instead trailing them wetly down your neck.
“Bedroom,” you tell Mat, voice hitching when he leaves a bite on your pulse point.
“Fuck that,” Mat replies. He pushes your shirt up and over your head. “Can’t wait. I couldn’t sleep because I was thinking about this.”
“Fucking me against the wall?”
“Having crazy sex with you all over the apartment,” Mat corrects. “You know when you’re about to sleep and then you feel like you’re falling and you wake up?”
“Yeah?” you respond, confused.
“It was like that.” Mat comes back up to kiss your lips. “I’d almost fall asleep and then I’d see you here. I’d see you bent over the kitchen counter or the arm of the sofa. I’d have you against the tile in my shower, then over the sink and I’d wipe all the fog off the mirror so you could watch. You’d be laying on the dining room table and I’d be between your legs, then I’d be sitting at my desk and you’d be between my legs.”
“Sounds tortuous,” you joke. 
“It was torture to see you like that and not have you,” Mat says in complete earnest. “That kiss broke a fucking dam for us, I swear.”
“Emma’s going to brag about getting us together,” you say.
“Don’t tell her,” Mat replies simply. “I’m on Tito’s side of the breakup anyway.”
“That’s not how friendship works.”
“Clearly, we don’t have any idea of how friendship should work,” Mat laughs. His eyes are twinkling with mischief. “I’m about to fuck you against the wall and we’re ‘just friends.’”
“We’re going to have to talk about that,” you tell Mat. 
“Now?” he asks, his middle two fingers finding your clit over your panties and rubbing.
“After,” you confirm. You pull him back in for a kiss and roll your hips into Mat’s hand. “After, for sure.”
Mat chuckles into your mouth. He shifts your panties to the side and slides his middle finger into your cunt. “Wow, look at how you’re taking me,” Mat says. His nose knocks against yours when he turns his eyes toward your core. “So wet. Bet you taste good, too.” 
You whine when he removes his finger from your entrance, annoyed. That feeling vanishes shortly after you’re emptied, once Mat brings his finger to his mouth and hollows his cheeks around the digit. Your eyes go wide and your mouth drops open, drool pooling on your tongue. 
Mat smirks. His finger leaves his mouth with a pop and he then licks both his middle and ring finger, wetting them and bringing them back to your core. Mat leans in as he presses both fingers into your hole, his tongue sliding against yours as he curls his fingers inside of you.
“Oh my God,” you say to yourself when Mat’s thumb comes into contact with your clit. If his kiss was stuck in your head all day after just a few seconds with his tongue in your mouth, then this moment will be seared into the blank space behind your eyelids for weeks.
“Just me,” Mat teases. He kisses over your neck, sucks on the corner of your jaw, and gently takes your earlobe between his teeth. He tugs, then drops the soft skin and breathes cool air over the skin just beneath your lobe. 
You shiver and throw your head back against the wall, baring your neck to Mat. He takes full advantage of it, but the location of his mouth is the least of your worries. You’re too preoccupied with the way his fingers are dancing inside of you. You feel your insides jump when Mat comes into contact with your g-spot, playing with the soft spot fixed at a seemingly random and elusive point on your inner walls, biting down on your lower lip to stop an embarrassing sound from escaping you.
Mat’s hands are busy– the one inside of you and the other planted on your side, helping hold you up against the wall– so he can’t remove your bottom lip from the confines of your teeth. Instead, he hovers right in front of your face, just close enough to kiss, but he doesn’t make the move to unite. 
You get the message, dropping your bottom lip in favor of kissing Mat’s. He smiles into the kiss and squeezes a third finger inside of you. You can feel his muscles tensing, the rippling of his forearm and bicep traveling all the way up to the place where his arm meets his torso. 
“I don’t want to come like this,” you declare in a high voice, shaking a bit as Mat brings you right to the edge and nearly pulls you over. “I want to come on your cock, Mat, fuck me.”
“You can’t give me two?” Mat asks.
“It’s not that I can’t,” you whine. “I just want you inside me.” You dig your nails into Mat’s upper back when his fingers continue to piston against your sweet spot. “Fuck, Mat.”
Mat slows his fingers and relents. “Hold on,” he says. He presses you further into the wall, no space between your bodies.
You tighten your grip around his neck and lock your ankles around his waist.
Mat pushes his sweats and underwear down. They fall to his ankles and he tugs at the crotch of your panties again, making sure to tuck them securely out of the way so that he can guide his cockhead to your dripping center. 
You don’t realize that your nails are creating red half-moon crescents on the fleshy skin covering his traps until Mat captures your wrists between the fingers of one hand– his thumb and forefinger around one and his other three around the other– and holds them against the wall above your head. You whimper and tilt your hips forward, pulling him closer by the linked ankles at the small of his back. 
“Fuck, baby, I didn’t know you were so desperate that you’d claw me up,” Mat says. Humor is laced throughout his tone. He brings his shoulders up and tenses them, then releases the tension. His cock pushes inside you all the same, despite the discomfort he might be feeling. You barely hear him, anyway– not with his cock dragging against your walls and kissing your insides like that. 
Your mind is stalling, feeling like it’s trapped by the grip that Mat has on your wrists. “Mat,” you keen, trying to bounce on his length as best you can while hovering against the wall and contained by Mat’s body. 
He presses his lips against your cheek before shifting his hips forward and drilling into you, knocking the breath from your lungs. Your mouth opens in a gasp and Mat flicks his tongue against yours. His fingers squeeze your wrists with each thrust– the pleasure from his tip knocking into your cervix plus the pressure against your skin, arms raised up above your head, pairs together in a way that had your mind spiraling. 
The noises that come from Mat’s mouth don’t help– he’s grunting and groaning and his breath is heavy. He’s never silent, never, and you know that if you close your eyes, you could get off to his noises alone. 
“You feel so good,” Mat compliments in a low voice. His cooing tone fills your ears like how a sink drain sucks all the water away, creating a whirlpool and gulping for more. “Tight and wet and squeezing me, fuck, we should’ve been doing this for ages.”
You nod your head in assent, eyes shut tightly as a coil of pressure screws and tightens in your abdomen. Mat’s words dissolve in to babbles, the blood rushing to your head. Your pulse booms in your ears as he talks on. Mat’s hand digs into your side, the soft flesh of your waist giving in order to make room for his fingertips as he bucks wildly into your heat. Your slick and the slide of his cock creates a squelching, clapping sound each time that his pelvis collides with yours. Your clit, swollen and aching to be touched, brushes against Mat’s abdomen with just enough friction to send you over the edge, quivering in his arms and arching your back as your climax crashes over your being and overtakes you. Your jaw practically pops with how wide and unhinged it becomes, strangled and drawn-out mewls spurring Mat on while you come in his arms and on his cock. 
Almost simultaneously, Mat’s head dips and his hips stutter, white cum shooting from his slit and painting your walls. Mat continues fucking you through your aftershocks and his own, with gravity taking effect almost immediately– as he draws his cock out of you, just to shove it back in, the mixture of your cum drips from your hole and creates a mess that you and Mat will notice in the morning and gape at before breaking out the cleaning supplies. 
You breathe together. Mat’s movements slow and he crowds your body, plastering himself against you. His heaves are wet against your neck, drinking air back in. As Mat catches his breath, he starts to mouth against your skin, planting a series of kisses along your collarbone and shoulder. 
“Oh my God,” you repeat again. 
Mat’s grip on your wrists relinquishes and your arms drop to his shoulders. His cock slips from your pussy as it softens, but he places his hands again on your ass and keeps your legs around his middle. He hums and kisses your cheek, then your mouth. The kisses are less rushed and frenzied now, matching the original kiss he gave you that filled your mind and stayed there. 
“Take off work tomorrow so we can fuck all over the apartment,” Mat suggests between kisses. He’s finally on the move again, making his way to the bedroom with you in his arms. “That was only one of the ideas I had.”
“I can’t take off work for sex,” you reply. Mat lays you on the bed and you pull him down with you. “But I can stay all weekend again.”
“Yes,” Mat whispers in a celebratory voice, grinning widely when he pulls away. He disintangles himself from your arms and legs, collapsing onto the mattress beside you, in your normal spots. “Do I need to go and buy a toothbrush for you so you don’t have to use mine?”
“Get one of the good ones while you’re at it,” you tease. “Use that big hockey budget and get me one of those electronic ones that’s a waterpick when you swap the head out.”
“Careful,” Mat says. “If I buy that one, I’ll start using your toothbrush.” He pulls the covers over your bodies and holds his arm out so that you can cuddle into his side.
For the first time while awake, you curl up with your head on his chest and throw your leg over his thigh. Your hand comes up to cover his heart and Mat presses a kiss to your head. 
“We’re not going to be just friends after this,” Mat tells you.
You laugh. “No, I don’t think we will.”
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clockwayswrites · 2 days ago
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Danny in Metropolis, Ch3 P5
masterpost this is a first draft and the fatigue has hit me hard today, so please no editing or concrit <3
Kon had insisted on taking one of the top floor rooms, even though the one side of the ceiling was slanted because of the roof line and he had to go down a flight of stairs to get to a bathroom. The only other room on that floor was Clark’s tiny office and the cramped storage space that was mostly holiday decorations. It was just that it was a little easier when he needed get some space from everyone else. Upstairs was his space. He liked that.
He hadn’t, however, thought about what his room must look like to anyone else until Danny was standing in the doorway and obviously looking around.
The sloped chunk of ceiling was covered in posters, photographs, and stickers. There was even a few t-shirts pined on it. While it has started a just a few band posters, Kon’s friends enthusiastically added to it every chance they could get and now it was a constellation of their friendship.
“Oh, wow, cool,” Danny said as he wandered closer to the wall. He tilted his head at a cluster of photos from last summer. “Are these your friends?”
“Yeah.” Kon knew that he sounded a little sappy, but he was, he guessed. He was trying to concentrate more on school this year and that had left him with a lot less time to see them. “They don’t live in Gotham, but we do a… summer camp thing together. Some of them are kids of Clark’s friends too.”
Danny reached out, fingers almost touching a photo of the group all piled onto one giant beanbag. Kon was being squished on the bottom of the group. “Do you get to see them often?”
“Not as much as I want. That’s Tim, Cassie, and Bart.”
“I’m sorry, I bet you miss them,” Danny said and dropped his hand.
“Yeah.” He did. “There anyone from Amity Park you miss?”
“Tucker and Sam,” Danny answered immediately. “I get to talk to them, and I still play games a lot with Tucker, but it’s not the same as being there. It’s stupid, but I miss just being able to go and get a burger with them.”
Kon bumped their shoulders together. “It’s not stupid. It just means you care. I hope you can get that burger soon.”
“Thanks,” Danny said with a smile that looked a little wobbly. “Um, I guess we should do some work so that we have something to show Lois?”
Kon grinned. “Oh I see, up here she’s Lois but down there she’s ‘Miss Lois’?”
Danny blushed back. “Shut up.”
“Nope, teasing you about that forever,” Kon said. “Are you good if I put on some music?”
“Yeah, sure. I don’t recognize like, any of the posters you have,” Danny said as he dropped the armful of snacks onto Kon’s bed.
“Oh you are so getting a musical education after we have enough work done,” Kon warned as he searched for a playlist to work to.
“Going to try to turn me into a punk like you?”
Kon snorted. “You wish you were punk like me.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Danny said and flicked a wasabi pea Kon’s direction.
Kon of course caught it (with the help of a little TTK) and popped it in his mouth. “Yeah I’m right.”
Danny looked Kon over with faux seriousness, which Kon totally did not blush from. “The earrings are cool, I guess.”
“You could get one.”
“Yeah, right. My parents wouldn’t even notice if I came home with one, but they’d never take me to get one,” Danny said.
“I could do it.”
Danny blinked at that. “You could what?”
“I could pierce your ears, if you want. I’ve done it before and I promise that all ears are still attached,” Kon said and flopped down onto his bed next to Danny. “We’d just need to buy some starter studs for you first.”
Danny blinked down back at him. “I—huh. Okay, I’ll think about it. Maybe.”
“Okay.” Kon reached up and brushed a rogue chunk of hair out of Danny’s face before he could think better of it. Fuck, he was definitely blushing now. “Um, right. So, where were we with the work?”
“What? Oh, right, yeah!” Danny started with a little jolt and reached for his backpack. “Gotta impress Lois, right?”
“Right.” That’s who Kon wanted to impress, sure.
Totally not Danny.
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fluentmoviequoter · 3 days ago
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Tim Bradford's Princess
Part 3 of Bradford's Princess
Pairing: Tim Bradford x younger(24-26y/o)!fem!reader
Summary: Being Tim's princess is the best position you've ever held, and the last one you'll ever want. Every little thing he does proves it, even if it means tearing himself apart.
Warnings: the briefest of brief angst, fluff, domestically dominant Tim, makeout sesh, hickeys, Tim offers to ignore a Dodgers game for you
Word Count: 2.7k+ words
Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Rules
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“Do you like my ring?” Lucy asks.
Tim looks away from the road just long enough to see the simple rose-colored ring on her index finger. He lifts his brows rather than replying.
“You buy any new jewelry recently?” she inquires.
“What are you doing?” he counters.
“Just making conversation.”
“Well, stop.”
“Tim,” she sighs. “We’re in a shop together all day. Give me something.”
“I did. A request for you to stop.”
“Did you propose on Valentine’s Day?”
“No,” Tim answers, more out of surprise at the sudden question than a genuine interest in discussing his personal life. “Not that it’s your business.”
“But you’re going to propose soon, right?” Lucy continues.
“Chen,” Tim says sternly. “Drop it.”
Lucy nods, murmurs something about popping a question, and turns her attention to the radio as dispatch alerts of a nearby carjacking. Tim hits the lights and sirens, attempting to rid his mind of the image of you wearing a ring he put on your finger.
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“How’s whipped life treating you?” Aaron inquires as Tim exits the locker room.
Tim stops and turns toward Aaron. He sees Lucy, Nyla, Angela, and Nolan approaching. Sighing, he spreads his arms.
“What is it that you’re all so interested in knowing?” he asks.
“Nothing,” Nyla answers. “Just curious about how everything is going.”
“And that involves using quite possible the least subtle hints about engagement rings?”
“Lucy,” Angela chides.
“How’d you know it was me?” she exclaims. “Nolan could have said something!”
“I’m actually the only one here with a healthy respect for Bradford,” he interjects.
“Well?” Nyla asks, turning back toward Tim. “Are you proposing any time soon? You’re not getting any younger and clearly you’re obsessed with this girl.”
“Which I can’t blame you for,” Angela adds. “It’s nice to see you happy, and if a woman as sweet and beautiful as her wants to be with you despite the age difference, you should do everything you can to keep her close.”
“Whoa,” Aaron says while Nyla grips Angela’s arm, and Lucy’s eyes widen comically.
“You’ve met her?” Nolan questions.
“I ran into them while they were on a date, remember?” Angela replies.
“You didn’t say you met her!” Nyla argues. “Just that you bumped into Tim.”
“I want to see her!” Lucy says.
“Me too,” Aaron agrees. “Tim? You got a picture?”
“Or a free night where we could all get dinner?” Nolan suggests.
“No,” Tim responds.
“You have to give us something,” Nyla says.
“Something about what?” Wade inquires, approaching Tim’s side.
“He won’t show them a picture of the girl who has him wrapped around his finger,” Angela explains, ignoring Tim as he shoots daggers with his gaze.
“I wouldn’t show Aaron, either,” Wade murmurs.
“You’ve seen her too?” Lucy asks.
“Get out of here while you still can,” Wade whispers to Tim. “The rest of you, I’ve got a question about the call in Hancock Park.”
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The quiet murmur of the television and soft, glowing candles greet Tim as he walks into his home. He smiles when he sees you on the couch. You look up when the door closes and smile brightly. Tossing your Kindle beside you, you stand on the cushion.
“I missed you,” you say, reaching for Tim’s shoulders.
“You’re going to fall one of these days,” he replies, setting a bag on the floor before he lifts his arms to hold your waist and steady you.
“You won’t let that happen.”
Tim shakes his head in silent admiration of your trust in him.
“I love you,” you say.
“I love you,” he promises.
“How was your day?”
Tim answers you, giving a brief overview of his day. His shoe bumps against the bag, and he stops talking. You always seem more excited to see him than anything he may have with him. He’s come to you with flowers, expensive makeup, concert tickets, and a dress you’d been eyeing for weeks, but you’ve always seen him. That won’t make him stop getting you gifts, though, because every little thing Tim can do for you saves a piece of him, healing from the inside out.
“I have a question,” Tim says, sliding his hands down to your hips.
“I have an answer,” you reply.
Tim waits until you lower onto the back of the couch, sitting with your arms around his shoulders. He pulls the bag up and offers it to you.
The bouquet inside has white roses and baby’s breath, and a blue ribbon circles the trimmed stems. An envelope attached to it bears your name and the Los Angeles Dodgers logo.
“They’re beautiful,” you say.
“I’ve been going to opening day at Dodgers Stadium for years,” Tim explains. His hands run along your sides and down your thighs as he speaks. “I bought tickets: two seats in my usual section. If you wanted to sit somewhere else though, we could. It’s a tradition, and I want you to come with me.”
You remain quiet, watching Tim’s face as you admire his excitement. After dating Tim for as long as you have, it’s no surprise that a moment in the baseball season could mean so much to him, but seeing the joy and anticipation in his eyes makes you happy. Tim has dealt with things you can’t imagine, yet this tradition holds a special place in his life. Now, he’s inviting you into it.
“You don’t have to go,” Tim murmurs. “I don’t even have to go. We can do something else if you want.”
You shake your head adamantly, pressing your hands against Tim’s chest. “You do have to go,” you reply. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t quiet because I don’t want to, you’re just really cute when you’re excited.”
Tim narrows his eyes at you, but you don’t let him speak.
“I’d love to go with you,” you answer. “I really appreciate you inviting me to part of your tradition.”
Tim brushes his right hand over the ends of your hair before he cups the back of your head. “You’re part of a lot more than that,” he whispers.
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After he parks, Tim hurries around the front of his truck to open your door. His gentlemanly actions and princess treatment of you are nothing new, but you still smile and thank him softly. Tim’s fingers slot comfortably between yours as he leads you into the stadium and to your seats. His preferred section has a great view, and as you sit beside Tim, you briefly wonder how you got so lucky.
“C’mere,” Tim says, tapping your shoulder where his hand rests.
You shift in your seat, and Tim carefully removes your Dodgers hat. Your hair falls onto your neck, and you frown when you realize your hair tie has broken. Tim runs his fingers on the underside of your hair as he pulls it back where it was. You feel another band tighten around it before he carefully pulls your restyled hair through the back of your hat.
“There you go,” he says.
You raise one hand to check it, then smile and take Tim’s hand. “Thank you.”
Tim shakes his head as if it’s no big deal that he just fixed your hair in a stadium full of people. Then, you realize that the black band he wears on his left wrist is gone. He’s offered you hair ties, bobby pins, and lip gloss, but it usually comes from his truck. The fact that Tim carries things you may need is just another in the long list of reasons you love him, and can clearly see he feels the same.
When the game begins, you flip your joined hands so that Tim can stand and cheer as he desires. He pulls your hand off the stadium seat and into his lap, and you realize within a few minutes that you stand with him more often than not. Although Tim treats tonight like a date, it’s his tradition, and you want him to enjoy the night and the game.
“You need anything?” Tim asks after cheering for a good pitch.
Shaking your head, you answer, “We’re here for the World Champs, remember?”
“I think they’d understand,” he replies.
Tim kisses your forehead and takes your hand in his again.
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You look up at the blue and white fireworks in awe. Tim wraps his arm around your shoulders, and you lean against him as the night continues.
“You want a picture?” he asks.
You turn toward him, and he gestures to the field, where a large photo of the team is projected as they celebrate their win. Nodding, you open the camera app on your phone and try to get a good angle. Tim removes his arm from your shoulders, bends slightly to circle your hips, and lifts you onto his shoulder. He holds your outfit in place with his free hand as you take the perfect photo. When you’re back on the ground, you put your phone away and smile at Tim.
“Thank you,” you say.
“Any time,” he promises.
When you’re back home, changed out of your jerseys, and preparing to go to bed, Tim traces his finger along your collarbone and then spreads his fingers gently over your throat.
“Thank you for tonight,” he murmurs. “For being part of my life.”
“Thank you for letting me,” you reply. “There’s nothing in this world I want more.”
Tim uses his hand, still on your neck, to turn your jaw toward him before he kisses you. As the city continues to celebrate the opening night win, you have much more to celebrate and be thankful for.
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The day after opening night, the Dodgers are playing again. This game is different, however, because it’s also the night of the World Series Ring Ceremony. You run your finger along a page while Tim watches the television, pursing your lips as you attempt to understand what you’re reading.
“Do you want help?” Tim asks.
You look up, smile, and shake your head. He nods, then looks back to the TV as he pets Kojo.
“Which color should I use?” you ask.
“Do you have white?” he inquires, leaning to the side to look at the supplies you’ve spread across the table.
“Yes,” you answer. “This one: Marshmallow.”
“I like it.”
The game comes back on, and you thank Tim for his input as you prepare to do the next step. Tim ordered you a nail art kit after you mentioned one in passing, but he found one that was bigger and better. Now, as you spend time together while enjoying different things, you wonder why you didn’t start doing your nails yourself months ago. When Tim’s hands wander to your shoulders, and his warm palms run along your exposed upper back, you decide that no salon will ever compete with this.
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“It’s too much,” you say, pouting.
“It’s not,” Tim replies. “You’re the one that said it was the best flavor.”
You stare at the family-sized cheesecake. It is the best flavor the bakery has, but you expected Tim to buy one slice for you to share, two if he thought it looked really good. Not an entire cheesecake.
“How much does that weigh?” you ask.
“Fourteen pounds.”
“Tim!”
Tim chuckles as he lifts the lid. “We don’t have to eat it all tonight. Want your own piece?”
You shake your head vehemently, ignoring Tim’s continued laughter. When you accept a fork and taste the cheesecake, your protests are forgotten.
“Maybe you should’ve gotten two,” you say after offering Tim the last bite.
“Wesley mentioned a dessert tour a while back,” Tim replies. “Would you want to do that sometime?”
“Yeah, that sounds fun.”
You watch Tim’s back as he puts the rest of the cheesecake in the fridge. He dressed up for your date tonight, and you’re convinced he gets more attractive every day. When he turns back to you with his brows raised, you blink to refocus.
“Did you ask me something?” you inquire.
“If you’re free Friday,” Tim answers, looking as if he’s hiding a smile and aware that you are staring at him rather than listening.
“I’ll have to check my calendar,” you muse with a sigh.
Tim returns to your side and agrees, “Of course. Have your people let me know.”
Smiling, you tug the bottom of Tim’s shirt. “You are my people.”
“Oh. Should be a short phone call then.”
Tim takes your hand and pulls you toward the couch. Kojo is asleep in his bed, and you laugh as you collapse onto the cushions.
“You look beautiful,” Tim compliments.
“You look handsome,” you reply.
Tim kisses you quickly, then immediately leans in for another longer kiss. He holds your jaw carefully, sliding his fingers into your hair.
“Stunning,” he says, moving to kiss your jaw.
“That’s all you,” you breathe.
“Perfect,” he continues, kissing toward your ear.
“Tim,” you whisper, holding his shoulders.
He pulls back enough to look into your eyes, and you smile. As you shift to place your leg over his, you kiss Tim again. He lowers his hands from your face to your waist. When your hands slide down his chest and dip under the hem of his shirt, Tim pulls you closer. His left hand returns to your jaw, his thumb running reverently beneath your cheekbone. You push your hands up his torso until you reach his bare chest. Tim deepens the kiss as you roam, attempting to memorize Tim’s skin through touch alone.
Every kiss with you is memorable, but moments like this, makeout sessions that simply happen and don’t have to lead to anything more, hold a power that Tim will never be able to describe. Your hands on him, your acceptance of his scars – both seen and invisible, and the way you want to be as close as physically possible make Tim fall even deeper in love with you. Tim is your everything, and when you lose yourself in moments like this, being held by the man you love as if he never wants to let you go, everything else fades. You’d spend an eternity in this moment, and that’s part of how you know that Tim Bradford is the one. He’s your forever.
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It's unusual for Tim to be home before the sun sets. Today, his shift was changed at the last minute. He was called to the station before 3 a.m. and now has the entire afternoon to spend with you. The early start was worth it, he thinks. Your homemade dinner bakes in the oven as Tim enjoys quality time with you.
“So,” you begin, sitting on the counter. “Last time we made out in here was after your friends called you whipped.”
“Yeah,” he replies, not taking his attention away from his current task.
“Have they said anymore about your treatment of me?”
Tim’s hands tighten around your waist as he stops what he’s doing long enough to say, “My relationships are none of their business.”
You hum, running your fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck. “But you have relationships with them too… If you’re ashamed of me, just say so,” you joke.
Tim hums against your collarbone. He’d pulled you into a kiss the moment he came through the door, but after you prepared dinner, Tim opted to let you relax while he did the heavy lifting. Hence, the new hickeys. And the work in progress, which Tim reminds you of by running his teeth over the sensitive skin just beneath your collarbone.
“I don’t need to match the bruises you get at work, you know.”
Tim separates himself from your skin and replies, “And you don’t need to meet the people who think I treat you better than them.”
You move your hands to Tim’s shoulders, encouraging him to meet your eyes. He sighs as he straightens to look into your eyes.
“I understand the separation,” you begin. “But don’t split yourself into two sides to the point that it hurts. If there’s not room for me and everyone else you care about-”
“Stop,” Tim interrupts softly. “I’ll introduce you when the time is right. I promise.”
You nod, accepting his promise and trusting that he’ll do what’s right. He drops his chin and kisses your jaw. When his second kiss lands open-mouthed, you laugh and pull him up for an actual kiss. He runs his fingers over the darkening mark on your collarbone as his hands rise slowly toward your hair, and you decide that being Bradford’s princess is the best position you could ever hold and the only one you want for the rest of your life.
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mcrdvcks · 3 days ago
Text
tum hi ho (you are the one)
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summary: You take Logan to a family wedding, where he also gets to experience part of your culture.
word count: 5k+
pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
notes: so... this is incredibly self-indulgent. i was trying to come up with ideas to write and then i had something pop into my head, "what if i took logan to a family wedding?"
it's a hell of a lot different than an american wedding, though not too different since they are incredibly americanized (at least the ones i've been to). so thus, this was born! enjoy reader taking logan to a family wedding and him trying indian food!
here are a few translations:
mone: boy
mole: girl
warnings/tags: reader is half white/half indian, reader has a younger brother, indian-american wedding, (southern) indian food
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“All you need to do is look… nice.” You said, fixing Logan’s dress shirt collar. “Most of the guys—well, older guys—will be wearing kurtas. No one wears a suit.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, tugging uncomfortably at the collar you had just adjusted. “You could've warned me earlier, princess. I'm not exactly known for blendin' in at parties.”
“It's not a party,” you corrected gently, smoothing out a wrinkle along his shoulder. “It's a wedding. And I promise you'll be fine. They’ll love you.”
Logan snorted softly, a skeptical grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Right. A bunch of your distant relatives meeting your mutant boyfriend? Sure, what's not to love?”
You laughed, patting his chest playfully. “You know what I mean. They’re family. They're obligated to be nice. Besides, my dad’s already warmed everyone up, apparently.”
He raised his eyebrows again. “Your dad talkin’ me up, huh? Never thought I’d see the day.”
“Yeah, I was surprised too,” you admitted, stepping back to admire your handiwork. The white button-down was perfectly tailored to Logan’s frame. You smiled appreciatively. “But he likes you. He thinks you're tough. And trustworthy. And he said you eat like a real Punjabi guy, so he's impressed.”
“Guess the ol’ man and I got somethin' in common after all,” Logan chuckled, relaxing slightly. “Does your mom have any pointers for me?”
You shook your head with a smirk. “Her exact words were ‘be yourself.’ But maybe... a less grumpy, slightly friendlier version of yourself.”
Logan sighed dramatically, feigning offense. “You callin’ me grumpy, sweetheart?”
“Not grumpy,” you corrected with a mischievous grin. “Just… intense.”
He leaned in closer, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You didn't seem to mind intense last night.”
You laughed, pushing him away lightly. “Behave. My dad's going to be there, remember?”
“Don't worry,” he assured, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I'll be on my best behavior. For you.”
You looked up at him, softening as you met his warm eyes. “Thank you for doing this, Logan. I know it's not exactly your thing.”
He shrugged lightly, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his voice dropping to a gentle rumble. “I’d do anything for you, doll. Even sittin’ through a three-hour wedding ceremony where I don't understand a word.”
You smiled warmly, sliding your hands along his chest. “You won't be the only one lost, trust me. Even I don't always know what's going on. Just smile, nod, and eat everything my aunties give you, and you'll be fine.”
“Eat everything, huh?” Logan asked with a grin. “Now that, sweetheart, is something I'm good at.”
You laughed again, shaking your head. “I'm serious, Logan. You're gonna get force-fed if you're not careful.”
He leaned in, pressing a quick, gentle kiss to your lips. “Sounds like my kinda challenge.”
---
The wedding reception was held in a large civic center. As soon as the doors opened, the smell of food and loud, overlapping talking washed over the two of you.
Logan paused in the doorway, eyebrows raised at the bustling scene before him. "You weren't kiddin' when you said your family was big."
"Technically, I think I'm related to maybe a quarter of these people," you admitted, scanning the crowded hall. "The rest are family friends, distant relatives, and people my dad probably hasn't seen since he was ten."
Logan let out a low whistle. "Well, darlin', you're already beatin' me. I can count my livin' relatives on exactly zero fingers."
You nudged him gently with your elbow. "You're part of my family now, remember? That automatically bumps you up by a few hundred."
He chuckled quietly, placing a warm hand at the small of your back as you both stepped into the lively hall. "Lucky me."
Almost immediately, your dad spotted you both from across the room and began waving enthusiastically. You laughed softly, raising your hand in acknowledgment. "Brace yourself. Here he comes."
Your dad reached you in seconds, grinning from ear to ear. "Y/N! Logan! Glad you made it. Come, come—I’ll introduce you."
He barely waited for a reply before guiding you through the throng of guests. You glanced back at Logan apologetically as your dad propelled you forward, but Logan just smirked and mouthed, "I'll survive."
Your dad stopped in front of a table crowded with smiling faces, all eyes turning curiously toward Logan.
"Everyone, this is Y/N's boyfriend, Logan. Logan, these are my cousins and their families."
Logan offered a polite nod and his best friendly smile, though you could tell he felt slightly out of his depth. "Nice to meet y'all."
An older woman with kind eyes and a warm smile immediately took his arm, guiding him gently toward an empty chair at the table. "Sit, sit! You must eat, mone."
Logan looked toward you for reassurance, eyebrows lifted. You laughed softly, nodding encouragement. "Go ahead, Logan. She's not going to take no for an answer."
He chuckled as he allowed himself to be led away, throwing you a playful glare. "Remind me again why I let you drag me here, princess?"
"Because you love me," you called back cheerfully, causing several relatives to chuckle good-naturedly around you.
Your dad watched Logan for a moment, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "He'll be fine, Y/N. Trust me."
"I know," you agreed warmly. "Thanks for prepping everyone."
Your dad shrugged modestly, eyes twinkling. "All I had to say was that he's tough, can handle spicy food, and makes you happy. That was enough."
You shook your head with a smile, watching as Logan cautiously accepted a plate heaped high with various dishes. "He's tougher than he looks. He'll survive."
Your dad squeezed your shoulder gently before wandering off to greet more guests, leaving you free to rescue Logan, who was now attempting to navigate the mountain of food he'd been handed.
You slid into the seat beside him, leaning in close with a grin. "How are you holding up?"
Logan glanced at you, amusement glinting in his eyes. "Not sure what half of this stuff is, doll, but it smells damn good."
You laughed, leaning closer to point at his plate. "That one's paneer, it's like cheese. That one's chicken tikka, and that's butter chicken."
"And the green one?" he asked skeptically.
"Palak paneer. Spinach and cheese. Trust me, it tastes better than it looks."
Logan smirked playfully, already scooping up a bite. "Long as it's edible, you won't hear any complaints from me."
You smiled fondly, watching him take a cautious bite. His eyes widened slightly, then softened with genuine appreciation. "Damn. That's actually pretty good."
"You sound surprised," you teased lightly.
He leaned closer, voice lowered conspiratorially. "Not surprised. Just didn't expect spinach to taste that good."
You laughed, resting your hand comfortably on his thigh under the table. "Stick with me, Logan. I'll expand your horizons."
Logan tilted his head slightly, regarding you warmly. "You already have, sweetheart."
You felt your cheeks warm, looking down shyly before meeting his eyes again. "You're turning into a real charmer tonight."
He shrugged lightly, a teasing glint in his gaze. "Maybe it's just the good food and the pretty girl sittin' next to me."
Your heart fluttered slightly, and you bit back a pleased smile. "Careful, Logan. Keep talking like that, and you'll start setting expectations around here."
He chuckled softly, nudging your shoulder lightly with his own. "Wouldn't wanna disappoint your family."
Someone, one of your dad’s cousins and her husband, came over to you. “Would you mind watching Olivia? Amber is throwing a bit of a tantrum, and we need to calm her down.”
You nodded immediately, smiling gently. "Of course. I'd be happy to."
They gave relieved smiles, handing off a sleepy-looking toddler dressed in a small pink and gold lehenga before quickly disappearing into the crowd.
Logan glanced at you, raising a curious eyebrow. "Got yourself a plus-one there, sweetheart?"
"Looks like it," you laughed softly, adjusting Olivia comfortably on your lap. She blinked at Logan sleepily, clearly sizing him up. "Olivia, this is Logan. Can you say hi?"
Olivia stared at him silently, thumb in her mouth, seemingly unamused. Logan grinned slowly, leaning closer and softening his voice. "Hey there, kid. Tough crowd, huh?"
Olivia continued her quiet observation, large brown eyes unwavering.
"Don’t take it personally," you teased Logan, shifting Olivia carefully so she was comfortable. "She barely talks to me either."
Logan shrugged easily, continuing to eat with one hand. "I get it. Big scary guy, unfamiliar face. It takes some getting used to."
You laughed, gently smoothing Olivia’s dark hair. "She'll warm up eventually."
As the reception continued around you, Logan’s plate slowly emptied. True to your predictions, every auntie who passed by checked to make sure he had eaten enough. Logan gave polite nods and grateful smiles, even taking a second helping of naan and butter chicken to their enthusiastic approval.
Olivia eventually began squirming, fussing quietly in your lap. You bounced her gently, whispering soft reassurances. "Hey, mole. Your mama will be right back, okay?"
But the toddler was not having it. Her soft whimpers turned quickly into a louder, tearful wail. Logan’s attention snapped to you, a look of mild panic flickering across his face. "You okay there, doll?"
"Yeah," you sighed, trying to comfort Olivia, who had fully started crying now. "She’s just missing her mom, I think."
"Here," Logan offered gently, holding out his arms. "Let me give it a shot."
You hesitated, uncertain, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Are you sure?"
He chuckled, eyes gentle. "I ain’t completely helpless, princess."
You carefully transferred Olivia to Logan’s broad arms, feeling an unexpected warmth spread through your chest at the sight. Logan cradled the little girl gently, quietly shushing her in a soothing tone that made your heart flutter.
"Hey now, kiddo," Logan murmured softly, bouncing her lightly in his arms. "None of that. It ain’t so bad."
To your amazement, Olivia's cries quieted somewhat. She peered up at Logan through teary eyes, clearly confused by the unexpected stranger holding her.
"That’s it," Logan continued, voice gentle and low. "You’re alright."
You stared openly, unable to hide your soft smile. "You’re really good at that."
He glanced sideways at you, a slight smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Don’t sound so shocked. I’ve looked after plenty of young mutants back at the mansion. A toddler ain’t too different."
Your smile widened, watching him gently rock Olivia. She had now quieted entirely, sleepily snuggling against Logan’s chest.
Aunties around the table were already exchanging approving smiles and whispering appreciatively. You chuckled quietly, shaking your head. "Careful, Logan. Keep this up, and you'll be the star attraction."
He gave you a soft look, eyes warm as they met yours. "Long as I impress you, doll, I couldn't care less what anyone else thinks."
You felt your cheeks heat, heart skipping slightly at the quiet sincerity in his voice. You reached out to softly squeeze his knee beneath the table, unable to hide your pleased smile. "Consider me very impressed."
A comfortable silence settled between you as Logan continued to gently bounce Olivia, careful not to disturb her now-closed eyes. You found yourself leaning closer, lightly resting your head on his shoulder, taking in the tender sight of the notoriously tough Wolverine cradling a sleeping toddler.
"Maybe we should bring you to family functions more often," you teased quietly, eyes sparkling. "You seem to fit right in."
Logan grumbled quietly, though you could hear the smile in his voice. "Don’t push your luck, sweetheart."
At that moment, Olivia’s parents finally returned, looking slightly frazzled but visibly relieved at the quiet, peaceful sight before them.
"Thank you so much," Olivia’s mom whispered gratefully, gently taking the sleeping child from Logan's careful grasp. "I see she warmed up to you. She hardly sleeps for anyone."
Logan shrugged lightly, shooting you a subtle, playful smirk. "Guess I got the magic touch."
Olivia’s parents exchanged smiles, warmly thanking you again before disappearing into the crowd. You nudged Logan softly, smiling. "Magic touch, huh?"
He chuckled, wrapping a casual arm around your shoulders and pulling you close against his side. "You know it, princess."
You relaxed against him, feeling strangely content amidst the noise and chaos of the crowded hall. Logan’s steady presence beside you was comforting, reassuring.
Then, your dad and mom, along with a few others, walked over to you and Logan. “Ah! Look at you! You’ve grown up so much.” They said something else, but you couldn’t understand what.
Your dad chimed in, “this is my uncle. He asked if you’ve gotten any mango lassi or idli.”
Your great-uncle smiled warmly at you, speaking again in rapid Malayalam. You glanced helplessly at your dad, who chuckled softly.
"He said he remembers how much you loved idli when you were little," your dad translated patiently.
"Oh!" you said, brightening instantly as memories flashed back. "Yeah, I still love idli. It's one of my favorites."
Your great-uncle nodded enthusiastically, clearly pleased by your reaction. He turned to Logan, speaking again in Malayalam with a welcoming grin.
Logan raised his eyebrows slightly, giving you a questioning glance. You laughed gently, squeezing his arm reassuringly.
"He said he's glad you're here," your dad clarified, still smiling. "And he asked if you've tried mango lassi or idli yet."
Logan shook his head politely. "Haven’t gotten around to it yet, but it sounds like somethin' I shouldn't miss."
Your great-uncle nodded again approvingly, gesturing animatedly toward the tables laden with food. Your dad laughed softly, nodding along.
"He said you should both eat," your dad translated, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "And eat a lot. Especially the idli. He says it’s good luck at weddings."
"Then I guess we better not disappoint," Logan replied easily, giving your great-uncle a grateful nod.
You smiled warmly, leaning in slightly to whisper to Logan, "We should go grab some. Trust me, you'll love idli."
"Lead the way, princess," Logan murmured, sliding his hand warmly against the small of your back again.
You and Logan moved toward the buffet tables, weaving carefully through the bustling crowd. Logan kept a careful hand resting on your back, eyes alert as he navigated the unfamiliar setting.
"You really ate this stuff as a kid?" Logan asked curiously, examining the round white cakes as you reached the idli platter.
You nodded with an affectionate smile. “Apparently I really liked it as a kid. My mom even bought an idli maker so she could make it.”
Logan eyed the soft, round idlis carefully as he picked up one, clearly uncertain of exactly what to expect. “Looks like a fluffy hockey puck,” he muttered, glancing at you with mild amusement.
You laughed softly, reaching past him to spoon some sambar onto his plate. “Here. You have to eat it with this.”
He watched you carefully, eyebrows raised. “And this stuff is?”
“Sambar,” you clarified with a patient grin. “Kind of like vegetable stew, but spicy and tangy. You dip the idli in it.”
Logan made a small grunt of acknowledgment, placing another idli on his plate with cautious optimism. “If you liked it as a kid, it can’t be half bad.”
“Oh, careful there, Logan,” you teased softly, eyes sparkling playfully. “Trusting my childhood taste buds?”
“Never steered me wrong yet,” he answered lightly, glancing around before leaning in slightly, voice lowered teasingly. “Besides, even if it’s awful, I’ll pretend to like it for your uncle.”
You smiled warmly, nudging his shoulder affectionately. “You’re a good sport.”
He shrugged easily, walking with you toward an empty spot at a quieter table. “I said I’d survive, didn’t I?”
“You did,” you agreed, settling into your chair. “And you’re doing great.”
Logan picked up an idli, carefully dipping it into the sambar before hesitantly tasting it. You watched him closely, biting back an amused smile as his expression shifted from cautious curiosity to quiet appreciation.
“Well?” you prompted teasingly.
He swallowed thoughtfully, eyebrows raised in mild surprise. “Damn. It’s actually good.”
You laughed softly, leaning closer with an affectionate smile. “Told you.”
Logan glanced sideways at you, lips curving into a playful smirk. “Alright, princess. You win. Your childhood taste buds pass the test.”
You smiled warmly, taking a bite of your own idli as a comfortable silence settled between you. Logan continued to quietly enjoy the new dish, relaxing slightly as the chaotic background noise became a distant hum.
Your dad appeared suddenly beside your table, smiling fondly as he observed the two of you together. “You both enjoying yourselves?”
You nodded happily, gesturing to Logan’s plate. “He’s officially a fan of idli.”
Your dad chuckled appreciatively, shooting Logan an approving nod. “Good choice. Idli is always a safe bet.”
Logan grinned lightly, setting down his fork. “Still got that mango lassi to try, though.”
Your dad raised his eyebrows with exaggerated seriousness. “Now, that you absolutely cannot skip. It’s mandatory at every wedding.”
Logan glanced at you with mild amusement. “Mandatory, huh? Guess I better get to it, then.”
Your dad patted Logan lightly on the shoulder, warmth clear in his expression. “I’ll grab a couple glasses for you two. Enjoy yourselves.”
As he disappeared into the crowd, Logan leaned back slightly in his chair, watching you quietly.
“What?” you asked softly, feeling suddenly shy under his gentle gaze.
He shook his head with a quiet smile. “Nothin’, sweetheart. Just didn’t expect to feel so… welcome here.”
“Of course you’re welcome,” you murmured warmly, placing your hand lightly on his thigh. “Everyone loves you already.”
He snorted quietly, eyes twinkling. “Only because you bribed me with idli and sambar.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “No bribery necessary. You’re doing all the charm work yourself.”
He leaned closer, lowering his voice gently. “Must be your good influence rubbin’ off on me, princess.”
Your heart fluttered, and you smiled softly. “Maybe it’s mutual.”
His eyes softened as he took your hand gently, thumb brushing tenderly over your knuckles. “Maybe.”
You both turned at your dad’s return, smiling gratefully as he handed you each a tall, cold glass of mango lassi. Logan raised his glass with mock solemnity, eyes glinting mischievously. “To mandatory wedding drinks.”
You chuckled, clinking your glass lightly against his. “Cheers.”
Logan took a careful sip, pausing thoughtfully before raising his eyebrows appreciatively. “This is… damn good.”
Your dad laughed again, patting Logan’s shoulder proudly. “I knew you’d like it.”
“Careful, Dad,” you teased softly, taking your own sip of lassi. “You might spoil him.”
Your dad shrugged lightly, eyes warm with affection. “He’s part of the family now. It’s allowed.”
Logan shifted slightly beside you, a faint flush creeping across his usually confident expression. You squeezed his hand under the table reassuringly, giving him a warm glance.
As your dad wandered off again, Logan leaned toward you slightly, voice low. “He keeps sayin’ that like he means it.”
You smiled softly, eyes sincere as they met his. “He does. They all do. My dad doesn’t joke about family.”
Logan’s eyes softened further, a quiet warmth seeping into his gaze. He cleared his throat lightly, shifting a bit awkwardly. “Well, I… uh… appreciate that. Means a lot.”
You reached up, softly cupping his cheek. “You mean a lot. To me and to them. Don’t ever doubt that.”
He leaned subtly into your touch, eyes closing briefly before opening again to fix you with a gentle, affectionate stare. “Don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, doll.”
Your heart melted, and you smiled tenderly. “You’re just you. That’s more than enough.”
His mouth curled into a slow, genuine smile. “Careful. Keep talkin’ like that, and I might start thinkin’ I actually belong here.”
“You do,” you whispered softly, thumb gently brushing against his jawline. “You absolutely belong here. With me.”
Logan took a slow breath, something vulnerable flickering briefly across his features before his usual playful bravado returned. He tilted his head slightly, eyes twinkling. “Guess that settles it then. I’m officially keepin’ you.”
You laughed quietly, shaking your head affectionately. “Oh? Glad we finally got that cleared up.”
He grinned softly, squeezing your hand lightly. “Me too, sweetheart.”
You leaned gently into his side, contentment spreading warmly through your chest as Logan’s arm wrapped comfortably around your shoulders. The joyful chaos of the reception carried on around you, but in that quiet, shared moment, nothing else mattered.
Then, your younger brother sat down next to you, tapping away on his phone. “What’re you doing?” You asked.
“I’m ordering food,” he mumbled, eyes still glued to his phone as he scrolled quickly through options.
You raised an eyebrow, amused. “There’s literally mountains of food here, Jamie.”
He shrugged, not bothering to look up. “You know I don’t really like Indian food. There’s nothing for me here except naan, and I can’t eat just bread all night.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head affectionately. “Naan is delicious, though.”
Logan glanced at your brother curiously, smirking slightly. “You picky about food or somethin’?”
Jamie sighed dramatically, finally lifting his eyes from the screen to look at Logan with exaggerated patience. “Not picky. Just selective.”
Logan chuckled softly, giving you an amused glance. “Selective. Got it.”
You leaned closer, trying to peek at Jamie’s phone. “What are you ordering?”
“Pizza,” Jamie answered immediately, tilting the screen slightly so you could see. “Just cheese and pepperoni. Safe bet.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, leaning back casually in his chair with a teasing grin. “Guess not everyone’s brave enough for spinach hockey pucks, huh?”
You laughed, gently nudging Logan’s shoulder with your own. “Hey, don’t knock my childhood favorites.”
Jamie rolled his eyes lightly, tapping the screen again to finalize his order. “You two can have all the spinach hockey pucks you want. I’m sticking to my pizza.”
“Well, what about this?” You reached over to the middle of the table and grabbed a papad, “you like these.” You held it out to him as he grimaced.
“No.”
“No?” You broke off a small piece before shoving it in his face. “Eat it.”
Jamie scrunched his nose, leaning back to dodge your persistent hand. “Y/N, seriously—stop it.”
“Just one bite,” you insisted, laughing as you chased his reluctant movements. “You ate this all the time when you were little. You even ate it at Uncle James’ house like a year ago!”
Jamie gave you a pained expression, leaning dramatically away from the papad you were practically shoving at him. “Y/N, stop. I'm serious—this stuff is so weirdly crispy.”
Logan chuckled quietly beside you, watching the sibling interaction with obvious amusement. He leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed as he observed the spectacle. “Kid’s got a point, princess. Maybe he just doesn’t wanna relive his childhood right now.”
You shot Logan a mock glare, but your lips twitched into a smile despite your best efforts. “He’s just being stubborn.”
“I am not stubborn,” Jamie argued indignantly, finally snatching the papad from your hand with exaggerated annoyance. “Fine. One bite. Happy now?”
“Very,” you replied smugly, grinning as Jamie took a reluctant nibble, his face twisting slightly as he chewed.
“It tastes exactly the way I remember,” he admitted grudgingly. “Like crispy nothing.”
Logan barked a laugh, shaking his head at Jamie's pained expression. “Guess you ain't impressed, kid.”
Jamie shrugged easily, placing the papad back onto your plate. “Not really my thing. You two can keep your weird, crispy food.”
“Your loss,” you laughed softly, crunching on the papad casually. “This stuff is great.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Jamie sighed, returning to scrolling through his phone again. “Pizza’s on the way, by the way. Thirty minutes.”
“Make sure you actually leave enough room for cake,” you warned playfully. “Aunt Kavya spent days on it.”
Jamie rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “I always have room for cake.”
Logan chuckled softly, glancing sideways at you with quiet amusement. “Kid’s got his priorities straight, doll.”
You smiled, resting your head lightly against Logan’s shoulder, your hand finding his under the table again. His fingers threaded easily with yours, gently squeezing your hand. The soft warmth of his palm against yours felt reassuring in the chaos around you.
“So, Jamie,” Logan said casually, leaning forward slightly with a teasing smirk. “Any pointers for a guy who's still tryin' to figure out your family?”
Jamie glanced up, finally giving Logan his full attention. His expression softened slightly as he tilted his head thoughtfully. “Honestly? Just smile, nod, and eat whatever someone puts on your plate.”
Logan gave you a pointed look, amusement flickering in his gaze. “Sounds suspiciously familiar.”
“See?” You grinned, elbowing him gently. “Told you I wasn't exaggerating.”
Jamie shrugged easily. “It works. And if you're stuck, just look like you're enjoying yourself, and they'll leave you alone.”
Logan chuckled lightly, shaking his head. “Good advice, kid.”
Jamie’s phone vibrated suddenly, and he looked down, eyes lighting up in relief. “Pizza’s here already. That was fast.”
He stood quickly, pocketing his phone. “I'll be back.”
“Good luck out there,” you teased lightly, watching him slip through the crowd toward the exit.
Logan shook his head softly, eyes dancing with amusement. “He’s somethin’ else, isn't he?”
“Yeah, he is,” you agreed affectionately, smiling as Jamie disappeared from sight. “But I wouldn't trade him.”
“Didn’t think you would, doll,” Logan murmured warmly, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your temple. “Family seems important to you.”
You looked up at him, smiling gently. “It is.”
Logan hesitated slightly, his gaze quietly thoughtful. “Never really had that myself, y’know? At least not one that stuck around.”
“You do now,” you murmured firmly, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “Jamie might act aloof, but he already likes you. Dad clearly does too. Even Mom was talking about you earlier today. Face it, Logan, you're stuck with us.”
He chuckled softly, looking down at your intertwined fingers with a gentle smile. “Guess I can live with that.”
Before you could respond, an older woman appeared beside your table, beaming brightly at both of you. You vaguely recognized her face from family gatherings over the years, but you couldn't quite place her name.
“Beta,” she began warmly, her attention immediately drawn to Logan, “You’re not eating enough! You must try the gulab jamun—it's delicious.”
Logan blinked slightly, shooting you a subtle questioning look. You squeezed his hand again gently, leaning closer. “It's a dessert. Really sweet, but I think you'll like it.”
Logan smiled politely, turning back to the woman with a gracious nod. “Thank you, ma'am. I’ll be sure to try it.”
“Good, good,” she beamed, clearly satisfied with his polite acceptance. “You’re a very handsome young man. Y/N chose well.”
You felt your cheeks heat, and you ducked your head slightly in embarrassment. Logan glanced at you with a teasing smirk, his eyes sparkling. “Hear that, sweetheart? I’m handsome.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head affectionately. “Careful, Logan. Your ego's gonna start taking up space in the room.”
The older woman patted Logan affectionately on the shoulder, clearly amused by your interaction. “Very charming. Keep this one, mone.”
“Oh, I plan to,” Logan answered immediately, voice full of playful sincerity. “Ain't lettin' go anytime soon.”
The woman smiled warmly before wandering off to another table, satisfied with her matchmaking efforts.
You turned slightly toward Logan, an amused smile tugging at your lips. “Look at you, charming all the aunties.”
Logan chuckled quietly, shrugging slightly with a small smirk. “Guess I just got a knack for it.”
“Clearly,” you teased softly, eyes sparkling mischievously. “You sure you don't secretly enjoy all this attention?”
“Maybe just a little,” he admitted grudgingly, a playful glint in his eyes. “But don't go spreadin' that around.”
“Your secret's safe with me,” you murmured warmly, leaning in closer.
A gentle voice interrupted the two of you, and you looked up to see your uncle approaching, his son and daughter trailing behind him. He smiled warmly as he reached you, affectionately squeezing your shoulder.
“Y/N, Logan,” he greeted warmly, nodding toward Logan. “It's good to see you both.”
“You too, Uncle,” you replied sincerely, smiling at your younger cousins, who immediately gave you polite, slightly shy nods.
Your uncle gestured to Logan warmly. “You holding up alright, Logan? These big family gatherings can be overwhelming.”
Logan chuckled softly, nodding appreciatively. “So far, so good. Y/N's been a good guide.”
Your uncle laughed lightly, clearly pleased by Logan's easy answer. “Glad to hear it. And don't worry—you're family now. Anything you need, just ask.”
“Appreciate that,” Logan replied sincerely, relaxing visibly at your uncle's kind words. “Means a lot.”
Your uncle gave you a gentle, approving nod, clearly happy with Logan’s comfortable presence at your side. “I'll leave you two be. Just wanted to check in.”
“Thanks, Uncle,” you murmured warmly as he turned away, ushering your cousins toward another table.
You glanced up at Logan, noting the quiet warmth in his expression. “You doing alright?”
He smiled softly, eyes tender as they met yours. “Better than alright, doll.”
You leaned comfortably against him, warmth blooming softly in your chest. Logan’s arm tightened subtly around you, pulling you just a bit closer.
“You were right, princess,” Logan murmured softly, brushing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “They really are a good bunch.”
You smiled contentedly, squeezing his hand gently. “Told you so.”
Logan chuckled quietly, shaking his head in amusement. “Should know better than to doubt you by now.”
“Exactly,” you teased softly, eyes bright with affection. “Stick with me, Logan, and I'll always steer you right.”
He gave you a warm, tender glance, his voice dropping to a soft rumble. “Trust me, sweetheart—I ain't goin' anywhere.”
You sighed contentedly, leaning your head comfortably against his shoulder, feeling perfectly at ease despite the joyful chaos around you. Logan's steady presence beside you felt solid, reassuring, and entirely right.
For tonight, you were happy just enjoying this moment together, knowing Logan had truly become part of your family.
119 notes · View notes
lulualuana · 1 day ago
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Miss me?
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writing and uploading something twice within the same month? unheard of
wc: 919
cw: car sex, semi-public sex, little rough, dirty talk, teensy bit of praise, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap that thang yall!), creampie, i think that's it..
enjoy?
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The way Leon’s fingers gripped your ass was utterly sinful, blunt nails digging into your flesh just enough to add a light sting to the mind-numbing pleasure you both felt. 
When he promised to take you out for dinner after being away for so long on a mission, you knew full well that the night would end with the two of you getting a little more than frisky, you just didn’t think that you would both get a little too impatient to wait the drive back to your apartment. 
That’s how you ended up in the backseat of Leon’s car, hands gripping his shoulders in an attempt to ground yourself as he bounced your body up and down, your nails digging into his skin a lot more bitingly than his did to yours as the windows quickly fogged up. It felt so fucking good, and he knew as much. It was why he was so cocky about it, the filthiest of dirty talk spilling from his lips as he worked you up and down his cock. 
“Fuck, you like that don’t you, baby? Like bouncing on my cock like this?” His words are met with a string of ‘yes’s and many other blissed-out curses that has him groaning at how needy you sound, his grip on you tightening. You were sure to have marks the shape of his fingers later from it. 
“What part do you like about this the best, huh?” He asks in a breathy growl, not really expecting you to answer. He could tell from your expression, he wasn’t going to get much out of you any time soon. Except an orgasm, of course. Your was head tipped back, eyes screwed shut and jaw slack as you rambled about how good his dick felt. Fuck did it boost his ego. 
“Like feeling me nice and deep inside you?” He continues, lifting and dropping you down in a particularly sharp motion that he worsens as he bucks his hips up into yours, his dick nudging deep enough to have your eyes crossing. “Or maybe you just like that anyone walking by can catch us, huh?” His words spark a dizzying amount of nervousness beneath the muddled mess that was your thoughts, but it's contradicted by the way you squeeze around Leon so tight. 
Someone could walk by and just see you two. You hadn’t chosen the most secluded spot before you got fed up with not having Leon inside you, and while his windows were tinted, you were sure that the car rocking and your loud moans gave any potential pedestrians a clear image of what you were really doing. 
You want to think about it a little more, maybe put a pin in the joyride and continue someplace that’s a little more private and protected.. but where’s the fun in that? Where’s the fun in thinking reasonably? You’d be lying if you said the potential of being caught didn’t arouse you in an inexplicable way, and you’d be lying even more if you said you had the capacity to think about anything other than Leon right now anyway. What was the point in thinking about anything other than your boyfriend fucking you so damn good in the back seat of his car after being gone for 2 weeks? 
He seems to catch onto your line of thinking (or attempt at it) and gives you his own answer in the form of his hips snapping up into yours, stealing your attention right back. “Don’t worry baby, no one will catch us,” he soothes almost a little deceptively, his words like sweet honey in your ear when your grip on his shoulders falters in favor of your chest resting flush against his, your arms draped over his shoulders instead to hold him close as he works you. 
He’s practically just holding you in place at this point, fucking up into you good enough to reduce you to whimpers and pleas. “I’ll make you come before anyone can.” The sultry promise is too fucking good, combined with the way he drills into you, it’s not your fault when it has you reeling, pussy clamping around around him as stars pop beneath your shut eyes, back bowing under the pleasure. 
“Thaat’s it,” he drawls, still working his dick into you with more effort now, his jaw clenched tight despite the reverent way he gazes down at your shivering body, his own orgasm impending to match you own. “Look at you.” And he’s looking, that’s for damn sure. 
The pretty little dress you had worn to dinner was all sorts of twisted and rumpled, the tights you had worn beneath were torn along with your panties so he could get to you, your hair was a mess, your cheeks were flushed and your eyes had this glaze over them when you had finally opened your eyes to look at him. You looked like sex personified and if Leon were a stronger man he wouldn’t have come. But he wasn’t and here he was, his hips stuttering to a stop as pearly white warmth spilled into you, his head tipping back with a throaty groan to accompany the sensation. 
You both settle as he empties into you, chests heaving against one another as his grip on you finally softens, his fingers rubbing in a hope to soothe the ache that probably lingers beneath his touch. “So..” He starts, drawing your attention to the sly grin on his face. “Did you miss me?”
~~~
so what are you guys getting me for my birthday? :)
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primeofprimes115 · 2 days ago
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Brother Meets (Super)Girl - Supergirl x Male Reader
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Note: Fluff/Wholesome - Reader is Stephanie Brown's Brother!
Art by KaitynLeeds aka @violetsyrenart
A vehicle drives up the driveway up towards a mansion seen ahead of the vehicle's path, passing the gate after it opened to allow the driver inside to drive in after he confirmed his identity. Someone was awaiting him ahead of the driveway.
An excited blonde girl, dressed in casual wear, standing with some others who seemed intrigued to meet this person the girl has talked about a lot.
"Is this him?" Dick Grayson aka Nightwing asked the girl, Stephanie Brown, the hero also known as Spoiler.
"Yes! It's him!" Stephanie looked on with a huge smile, watching the red Honda CR-V pull over ahead of them, the door soon opening to reveal a young man in his 20s, step out the red Honda, his H/C Hair blowing in the wind a little as a smile dawned on his face.
"Sister!" the young man greeted from the opening of his vehicle, closing the door and headed around the vehicle with open arms.
"Brother!" Stephanie shouted with joy, rushing up to her brother with the action of giving him the biggest hug a sister could ever offer.
The man groaned a little from the impact and chuckled, his arms soon wrapping around his sister to hold her tight, he hadn't seen her in a while, a few years in fact.
The only way they could communicate much was through text or calls, sometimes letters if the signal wasn't working, he travelled throughout the world, either cross-country or through air travel.
The pair kept the hug going as the others smiled, happy to see Stephanie all excited again.
"I don't think I've seen Stephanie this happy in a while" Duke whispered to Cassie, who smiled.
"it's nice to see" Cassie said shortly after.
The two siblings broke the hug and smiled at each other, happy to see one another again after a long time, a sigh soon following after.
"I wasn't expecting to see you today" Stephanie said with a huge smile across her lips, eyes beaming with joy of seeing her brother standing in front of her. "You could've said earlier!".
"Haha, sorry. Wanted to keep it a surprise. And I was gonna be travelling back through, so I thought maybe pop in to say hello. Dick kept it all a secret though" he smirked as Stephanie looked shocked.
"You... Traitor" she pouted as Dick laughed softly.
"Can't break a secret, especially if it's a surprise" he shrugged there after as Steph shook her head with a smile. "It's good to see you, Y/N" he approached the man, patting him on the back.
"You too, Grayson" he nodded as he looked to the others. "And these lovely people must be the Bats and Robins I've been hearing about" he looked to the others, as a few looked a little flabbergasted.
"Oh yeah, my bro here knows our... 'Job', he's always known" Stephanie said to the others. "Haven't I already mentioned that?" she looked while pulling a facial expression.
"I... Don't think you did" Duke replied while scratching his head.
"Nah, she did. I remember" Jason approached soon after. The man looked a little intimidating to Y/N for a moment before he wrapped his arm over his shoulder in a brotherly way, surprising Mr. Brown. "So, you're the guy, Steph has been talking about a lot over the past few weeks. I didn't think you were much, but... Maybe I was a little wrong".
"And I assume you're Jason?" Y/N asked, looking up at the man. "Red Hood, right?".
"The one and only" Jason said with a proud grin. "What gave it away?".
"Just what Stephanie has told me about. Tall guy, brawny, has a white patch in the hair and a... A-A jock" Y/N said while a little intimidated.
"Haha, she's right on all those parts" Jason chuckled, letting go of the young man before patting him on the back roughly. "Welcome to the Wayne Manor, if I can be the first to welcome you?".
"Thank you... Jason" the young man said awkwardly, as Stephanie began to push Jason away with some effort.
"Alright, alright" Stephanie butted in, hands raised out while she scooted Jason out of the way, Dick soon followed suit. "I don't want him to be intimidated already by everyone. Let's take it down a notch, Y/N's probably a little too stressed with all the travelling he's done, don't want him intimidated by everyone here. And I don't exactly want him to be stressed or awkward around you all, so... Yeah".
"Still playing overprotective sister?" Y/N asked with a little smirk. "That's one thing I haven't missed about you".
"That's adorable" Tim Drake/Red Robin soon chimed in, as Stephanie began to blush awkwardly. "I didn't know you had it in you".
"Shut it, Tim" she glared at him as Y/N laughed softly.
"You're my sister's boyfriend, correct?" he peeped over Steph's shoulder as Tim nodded.
"Yeah, that's me" he smiled, approaching the man with his hand out for Y/N to shake. "Steph's told me a lot about you, you're a musician from what I've been told". he soon shook Tim's hand as Duke scratched his chin.
"A musician? Huh? I thought he was a cool vigilante to be honest" Duke said aloud as Y/N chuckled at both of the guys.
"I leave that stuff to those capable, like my sister" he placed a hand on Stephanie's shoulder for a moment. "Vigilante stuff ain't my thing, I'm not exactly built for that".
"That's Duke Thomas aka Signal" Stephanie introduced the young man to her brother as he waved. Y/N nodded back toward Duke. "He's newish to the family we've got here... And this girl here -" Stephanie began to push Cassandra up towards Y/N, seemingly shy to meet the brother judging from her expression. "This is Cassandra Cain aka Black Bat, one of my besties" she introduced.
"Hi" Cassie shyly waved.
"Hello, Cassandra" he smiled, waving back at Cassandra before he looked back at his sister. "Where's Damian?".
"He's inside" Jason answered instead of Stephanie. "Don't know what he's doing though".
"Training with Bruce, they've been doing it all afternoon" Dick answered next".
"Ah, Batman" Y/N said with an ecstatic smile growing. "It's still unreal to me that my sister is apart of this family" Y/N sighed happily. "I knew she was Spoiler, but... To be apart of this? It's... Crazy".
"That means you are too" Tim soon spoke up. "If Steph is okay with that?".
"Of course!" Stephanie replied happily. "I'd be happy to allow that" she smiled.
"I'm guessing Barbara is in this... Clocktower of sorts?" he then asked.
"The Belfry? Yeah, that's where she is mostly, working as Oracle" Stephanie then replied.
"Speaking of which, I should probably go visit her" Dick soon began to walk backwards towards the Mansion. "She found something on the sample I gave her last night from my patrol in Blüdhaven".
"Should I tag along?" Jason asked the former Robin as he shook his head.
"No, it's fine. She'll contact you all when she's found something about the lead also, Bruce is still waiting for her response after all" Dick soon walked off.
"Detective work?" Y/N soon whispered to his sister, curiosity in his tone.
"Yeah, pretty much" she soon whispered back. "So uh... How long you planning to stay?".
"A few weeks at best, then I'm along the road. My next trip is planned for Metropolis, then National City at best" he replied with an optimistic tone. "A studio in each city are needing me for my talents for their projects, and I'm also looking to do some more work with my music talents, so...".
"Oh, Metropolis?!" Stephanie perked up at the mere mention.
"Yeah. You seem... Perked up there?" he questioned his sister's action as Jason chuckled.
"Oh yeah, has she told you about her uh... other best friend?" he asked as Y/N realized immediately.
"Oh? Kara?" he blinked a few times. "S-Supergirl, y-yeah, yeah. I know" he looked away for moment, his heart beginning to race. "Steph's told me a lot about her too" his tone turning a little nervous as the others picked up on this.
"Just so you know... He has a little crush on her" Steph told them all loudly as Y/N snapped his head to face Stephanie, his cheeks flushing red completely.
"That's... Adorable" Tim replied.
"Yeah, I guess so" Cassandra agreed
"Stephanie!!" Y/N glared at the girl, frowning at her while trying to fight back his blush. "What was it you said earlier? You didn't want me to feel awkward?!" he scolded as the others laughed and smiled.
"What? It's just a little one..." Steph then began to smirk. "Or is it? You called her pretty cute when I showed you a few pictures of her, even on social media" her devious smirk grew
"Oh this is gonna be good" Jason whispered to the rest, taking in the scene".
"Where's the popcorn when you have it?" Duke joked along with Jason as the two others smiled.
"It's a little one! Just a little crush! Doesn't mean you had to say it out loud in front of them!" he continued scolding her, the red around his face getting brighter as his voice raised louder. "I called her cute because I was complimenting her! I wasn't actually trying to implement something!"
"C'mon! It's honestly pretty cute!" she pouted.
"That's really weird coming from you! Any sibling would say ew to that!".
"Does this normally happen between you two?" Duke then butted in politely as they looked at him together.
"Not much" Steph told him, but Y/N had a different answer.
"Oh yes, it definitely does" he said, still fighting his blush. "She's been non-stop teasing me about it once I told her over the phone".
"You've had this little crush on Supergirl for a long time now, surely it's grown further by now" she teased further, embarrassing her brother more as his blush deepened. "Oh my god... IT HAS!!"  
"Ugh, okay yes, It has! Can we move on?" he asked with the note of wanting to forget about it. "I don't get exactly how this is a big deal to begin with, anyway? It's just a... A simple crush, that's it".
"On someone like her? Oh yeah it is" Stephanie said with a little excitement. "I honestly think you two would be perfect for each other".
"And how exactly?" he asked, his eyes glued on Stephanie as she laughed softly.
Before she could give him her answer, a noise erupted coming from the sky, a sonic boom that got everyone's attention.
"Did I just hear a sonic boom?" Y/N asked. "What was that?" he then noticed Stephanie smirking, as his eyes widened a little. "Steph... Why are you smirking?".
"I... May have told her you'd be coming by today" her expression turned sneaky as Y/N's blush deepened again.
"That sonic boom... Was-" his eyes soon landed on a blonde girl in a red cape descend from the sky feet first with a smile on her face. The S of Hope that was recognizable from anywhere.
"Yep, it's her alright. And she knows by the way" Stephanie smirked and winked before she and the others turned around to see the Girl of Steel herself, slowly descend from the sky, while Y/N had the privilege on seeing her descend fully, 
The wind picked up her hair and cape gracefully, along with her skirt, giving her the "golden girl" moment in his eyes as everything seemed to fade out of existence, with only Supergirl in his view.
"Hey everyone!" Kara soon landed on her feet, fully descended down as she went to hug Jason. "Hey big guy, been a while".
"Sure has, Kara, it sure has" Jason replied happily, accepting her hug before it broke, as she went to greet the others.
"Hey there Timmy" she waved as he waved back. "Duke, Cassie" the two others also waved back at her before her eyes landed on Steph. "Stephie!!" Kara ran up to her normally with open arms as the two girls hugged tightly.
"Oh geez! You're squishing me!" The blonde bat managed to speak through.
"Oh? Sorry!" Kara giggled, easing her strength around Stephanie's figure. "Been busier than usual lately, sorry I haven't been able to hang out often. Especially when Kal is busy outside Metropolis" she began gossiping towards her best friend.
"It's no big deal, Kara. It's totally fine" Stephanie smiled back at Kara.
Kara was about to reply back to Stephanie before her eyes landed on the boy who stood a few feet to Stephanie's right, grabbing her attention afterwards as he stood still... Eyes slightly widened as he stared at her.
"Is this your brother?" Supergirl looked at Stephanie for confirmation, smiling with a joyful expression. "He looks cuter up close" she says, snapping Y/N out of his little daydream with his ears flushing red.
"Yeah! That's him alright!" she giggled softly. "Kara, this is Y/N, the boy who has definitely not been crushing on you for the past few years" she sought to tease him further as Kara softened her expression, laughing softly.
"He seems pretty embarrassed, poor guy. Don't tease him like that, Steph" she expressed sympathy, before giving him a smile. "Hi, Y/N" she waved, her smile softening with a soothing tone.
"Uh-Uh..." he stuttered. "H-Hi" he soon waved back, blinking a few times before he began smiling himself. "I... I didn't expect you, I mean, I. Ugh".
"You didn't expect to meet me, you mean?" she was surprisingly patient with him, smiling away at his expression and awkwardness.
"Y-Yeah, that's what I meant" he nodded, looking down at the floor.
"We're gonna head inside, let you and those two alone with each other" Jason suggested as he began walking back to the Manor. "I gotta clean my guns, they're needing a clean".
"We'll get Alfred to come help bring in your belongings!" Duke offered while they all began returning to the Manor, leaving the two girls and one boy alone together.
"Thanks Duke" Y/N replied to him as he awkwardly looked back at the girls.
Silence fell within Y/N as he tried looking into Kara's eyes but couldn't bare to do it, standing in front of the girl he crushed on for the last few years, had him a little uneasy. He almost cursed out Stephanie for suggesting his crush come to visit.
"So, I heard a little bat told me you have a crush on me, it's pretty cute, not gonna lie" Kara soon brought up. "If it makes it any better, I follow you on Vintagram and Facelook, I like your music as well, you're incredible" she smiled, breaking the silence.
"Danvers, right?" he asked with a blush rising, having built up some courage to look at her in the face".
"Mhm, K.Danvers_749 and Kara Danvers" she said softly.
"Oh! That makes sense!" he replied with a soft chuckle. "And... Thank you. I don't really think I'm incredible, but thanks".
"Are you kidding?" Stephanie said aloud. "Of course you're incredible! The fact your crush thinks so too, is saying much!" she teased at the end.
"Steph.." he looked away from sheer embarrassment while smiling, while Kara giggled softly.
"I think you can quit teasing him now, Stephie" she soon spoke. "The elephant has been addressed in the air already, as much as it is charming to hear he has a crush on me" she blushed herself too.
"You should've seen her face when I showed her your picture for the first time" she whispered into Y/N's ear, as Kara looked at Steph with a glare.
"I heard that" she crossed her arms with a frown. "And I don't know what you're talking about".
"Girl, you called him cuter up close earlier" Stephanie grinned. "There's no point hiding it now, I can see you two being perfect for each other" she said to the both of them, as they both blushed ear to ear.
"Are you saying... Supergirl has-".
"Mhm" Stephanie confirmed. "She sure does".
Y/N scratched the back of his neck as Kara hid her face in her hands, now regretting to have flown on by to meet HER crush for the first time. Now the two awkward as anything as Stephanie softly laughed.
"You both should see your own faces right now, oh my god" she reveled. "I'm so sorry, I couldn't help myself. It's the fact you're both meeting for the first time too".
"I mean, he was gonna find out sooner than later, but I would've told him" Kara said, frowning. "But it's okay, it's kinda cute seeing him flushed, it's pretty attractive" she smiled.
"You're... Attractive yourself" Y/N said back to her with a soft and nervous chuckle.
"Aww, cute" Stephanie joined her hands together in awe, teasing the both. "Won't be long until you both start kissing" she blurted out innocently, making the two blush deep. Y/N looked away with a embarrassed smile growing on his face.
While Kara slightly giggled softly, looking at him, practically hearing his heartbeat racing before her eyes caught the red Honda. "Is that your guitar in there?" she spotted, trying to drive the conversation out of the awkward moment they both felt.
"Oh?" he turned around. "Yeah, I brought my guitar in that case, two guitars actually. Brought some other belongings as well. I'm staying here for a few weeks before I travel again" he informed the Girl of Steel, his words perking her ears up with curiosity.
"He's going to Metropolis in a few weeks as well" Stephanie winked at Kara's direction, surprising her. "And National City"
"Wait, really?! I could help get you there" she offered before retracting herself, connecting her hands together shyly. "Um... If you want me to help?".
"I mean... I dunno how you'd be able to help, but the offer does sound nice" Y/N replied with a chuckle. "I'll think about it" he smiled as an elderly man was seen walking up to the three with Duke Thomas, Y/N assumed it was the Butler he had been hearing about from Stephanie. "Alfred Pennyworth, it's good to meet you"
"Mr. Brown. It is lovely to meet you" the British Butler greeted the young man back. "Master Thomas had informed me of your arrival, shall I assist in bringing in your belongings to the guest room?" the man offered.
"Thank you, leave the guitar to me though, it is quite a heavy load" Y/N suggested. "They're in the boot and thank you, again" he used his car keys to open the boot remotely, allowing the Butler to help out.
"I could carry it in if you want?" Duke offered. "Can't be that heavy right?".
"Be my guest" he scooted to the side of his car, opening the back door.
"And Ms. Danvers. It is lovely to see you too, quite an unexpected visit" he greeted walking past Kara as she smiled back at him.
"Just popping in to say hello, and get to know Stephanie's brother" Kara replied, watching the scene unfold in front of her as she kept her eyes on Y/N only.
"Huh? I see the way you're looking at him. Are you gonna ask him out?" Stephanie scooted to Kara's side as she looked at her shocked, while Y/N thought about Kara's offer for a moment
"No! I did not ask him out there!" she began blushing again. "I swear to Rao! Stop! You're embarrassing me".
"You could ask him out, y'know? He's right there!" she gestured toward Y/N, helping Duke pull out the case his guitar is in.
-"I told you it's heavy"-
Kara fell into silence, thinking about the mere thought. Sure it would be nice to be in a relationship, and be dating a young man, but she feared she'd put his life in danger if so.
"And put his life in danger?" Kara whispered back. "I-I don't know" she bit her tongue.
"Who says you would? It's not like the public is gonna know Supergirl is dating a normal guy, a guy like my bro!" Stephanie peered as Kara sighed. 
"It's not just that, it's if any villains find out who I am without wearing the cape, they'll go for my loved ones, and Y/N would be on that list if I were to date him. I like him, don't get me wrong, but..." she sighed again. "I don't know if I'm worth it and we just met, so...".
"Look, I know dating while being a superhero is... Hard, I get that, been there, done that, which you already know, but... This is Y/N we're talking about, this guy has a crush on you, my own brother has a crush on you. I think he'd be happy to date you. He did go through a bad breakup some time ago, but if he was to date you? I think it'd make him a little more happier" she leaned on Kara's shoulder with her arm.
"You sure?" Kara said with unsurety.
"Yeah, very" Stephanie nodded. "I just think you two would be great together, you always wanted to date a musician, didn't you not?".
"Okay, okay, I'll ask him" Kara smiled softly with a sigh and a blush across her cheeks. "Rao, why am I listening to you, Steph?".
"Because you know I'm right!" she said with optimism. "Now, go ask him! While you've got the chance!"
Kara cleared her throat and took a deep breath, beginning to approach Stephanie's brother as he helped out Duke.
"And you carry this everywhere with you?!" Duke said while trying to hold it above the ground.
"To be fair, it's carrying two guitars, so..." Y/N replied to him.
"I've noticed!" Duke says with a little effort. "Don't worry, I can manage!" he said.
"Suit yourself" Y/N raised his hands up while backing off, turning around to see Supergirl having approached him. "Oh! Uh... Hi" he smiled softly, standing in Kara's presence as she smiled back.
"Hi" she waved back with a cute smile across her cheeks. "So... Uh... Y/N, I want to ask you something" she said with a rise of red in her face, maintaining eye contact.
"Uh... S-Sure?" he said nervously. "You can ask me a-a-anything" he nodded vigorously as he noticed Kara's hands were at the corners of her cape, fiddling around.
It was there she fell completely silent, the red in her face rising further up her cheeks before she looked away shyly with a cute embarrassed expression along with it.
'Oh Rao, Rao. I'm gonna screw this up!' she thought quietly, beginning to get a little overwhelmed by the thought.
Kara cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure as Y/N just looked at her in awe, waiting for her question to be asked. "Um... Would you..." she soon laughed softly with a nervous tone. "Would you... Like to, go out sometime? For lunch, or d-d-dinner perhaps?" she smiled awkwardly before burrowing her face into her hands as Y/N just stared at her with shock written all over his face as she took one look and began stuttering. "Omigod, omigod! You-You don't have to say yes, Steph thought it'd be a great idea for me to-".
"Like a date?" Y/N looked for confirmation if his hearing was deceiving him.
"Y-Yeah. A... A date" she fiddled with her cape even more, bringing the soft fabric out further as she looked down to the floor in sheer awkwardness.
"Yes" he said one word, one word and it completely baffled her. Making her recollect her words and thoughts. "Y-Yes! Of course! I'd... I'd love that".
"Really?" she said with hope in her tone, ecstatic at his answer. Y/N's cheeks flashed red with a smile, nodding towards her gently. "Lunch or... Dinner?" she then asked curiously as he thought about it.
"I think dinner sounds nice" he nodded before thinking on it more. "To be honest? I don't know where to go for dinner though" he chuckled.
"I... I think I have an idea" Kara thought of a brilliant idea before looking at Stephanie, giving her a nod of approval as she rushed over.
"He said yes?!" Stephanie looked like an excited puppy at this point, looking at both of them each second.
"Mhm" they both said in unison before Stephanie hugged the two together in joy and unexpectedly.
"You two are gonna be FREAKING CUTE TOGETHER!! OH MY GOD! WAIT UNTIL I TELL THE OTHERS ABOUT THIS!" she shouted with joy as Y/N held his right ear.
"Calm down, Steph. Any more louder, you're gonna burst my ear-drum" Y/N blurted out.
"What he said, and the last time my one burst was fighting Banshee" Kara added.
Stephanie broke the hug the two were forced into and giggled. "Sorry, I got a little too excited there, did I?".
"A bit, it's nice seeing that side of you" Kara complimented.
"I used to think it was annoying and it still is" Y/N said smugly, as Steph blew a raspberry at him.
"Shut it, you, I just scored you a date with your "super" crush, Kara, my best friend. You owe me" she said with a smug look in her expression.
"Ugh" Y/N groaned. "Bite me".
"Hey, you three!" Just as the two girls giggled, Duke had come back outside to meet with the three with an offer from Pennyworth. "Alfred is making tea, he was wondering if you wanted one or not?" he asked the group.
"Hmm, that sounds nice" Stephanie thought about it. "Yeah, sure!".
"Sounds nice to me as well, could have a cup" Y/N sighed happily, nodding in approval.
"He also offered to make one for you too, Supergirl" Duke then faced the Girl of Tomorrow, who looked blissful at the offer.
However... Just as she was about to reply, her expression changed to that of seriousness, her super hearing picking up commotion happening in Metropolis from where she stood, pushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.
"I'm so sorry" she then sighed. "Duty calls, I have to decline, maybe next time though" she said with a disappointed tone before facing towards Y/N. "How does Saturday feel? Six O'clock?" she asked him, grabbing his attention fully when Steph elbowed him gently.
"Uh... Yeah, sure. Saturday would be nice, six is fine with me too" he smiled in her direction as Duke looked at the pair confused.
Stephanie saw this and scooted over to Duke's side. "She asked him out just earlier".
"Already?" he asked her back, with Steph nodding very happily. "Anyways, I'll just let Alfred know to not make a tea for Supergirl" he said, returning to the Manor soon after.
"I'll pick you up" she winked and began hesitating, she then gave in and gave him something to remember her by for now, a cheeky kiss on the cheek as Y/N's eyes widened. Stephanie's jaw dropped with a gasp. "I'll see you on Saturday" Supergirl levitated up, smiling at his expression. "Bye Y/N! Bye Steph! Speak soon!" then... She took off, a sonic boom soon erupting in the sky.
"Oh. My. God?!" Steph approached her brother, looking at the cheek Kara kissed him on. "That was a... Kiss on the cheek! Already!!".
"Why are you so excited about that?" Y/N shook his head with a slight smile, softly placing his fingers where Kara kissed him. "It was just on the cheek" he said with a blush rising up.
"Still! She's into you, man! Like I said. You still owe me though" Stephanie leaned on his shoulder.
"Can you just... Take me to the guest room?".
"Okay... But you will tell me how the date goes on Saturday, or I'll pry it out of Kara" she winked.
"What do I owe you, anyway?" Y/N then asked with a deadpanned look.
"Hmm... You'll see"
______________________________________________________________
Fin
Word Count: 4490
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caracalla-dondus · 2 days ago
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You asked so I deliver! This is just an idea that popped in my head maybe it would help you write. Please change it up as you like
Maybe a new servant who heard about the fearful emperors but she is shocked to see Caracalla being so cute while feeding dondus. He thinks she’s curious about his monkey and decides to show her how to feed and let dondus. Clueless Caracalla would be so cute :)
Sorry for taking so long to write this but thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy it :)
Unexpected Encounter
Pairing: Emperor Caracalla/Servant!reader
Summary: A new servant has an unexpected encounter with Caracalla and his pet Dondus.
Dividers by: cafekitsune
Author's Note: To anyone else who has sent me a request and I haven't fulfilled it yet, hopefully soon I will have them written <3
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The new servant had only been in the service of the emperors for a few weeks, but she had been warned the moment she arrived: "Never speak unless spoken to. Never look the emperors directly in the eye. Never linger in places you do not belong. And above all, stay out of Emperor Caracalla’s way if you value your life and wellbeing."
She had heard the stories of course. She’s sure everyone has. The young rulers were known for their indulgence in revelry, their temperamental moods, and their thirst for bloodshed. Caracalla in particular was said to be the most unpredictable. One moment laughing and joyous, the next demanding someone’s death over something harmless and trivial. Geta was at least said to be a bit more composed than his brother. But the servant had no desire of finding out herself how alike or different the emperors were to each other.
But one night, she was walking through the halls on an errand when she turned a corner and found herself in the same vicinity as one of them.
For a moment, her heart stopped. Her breath caught in her throat. She must have wandered too far. She had made a mistake.
Caracalla was sitting on the cold marble floor, his tunic slightly rumpled, his red hair an uncombed mess. But he did not look upset, or angry, nor was he relishing someone else’s demise. Instead he was entirely focused on something small and fuzzy perched on his knee. Dondus, the little monkey she had only ever heard about in passing from other servants.
The infamous pet monkey that the emperor dressed in fine clothes and tiny gold ornaments. The monkey that, according to gossip, was perhaps the only living thing Caracalla truly loved, maybe even more than his own brother.
And here was the notorious Emperor Caracalla gently handing pieces of fruits and nuts to his beloved pet. The sight was odd. It felt almost absurd to see the much feared emperor being so tender. She watched as the monkey’s little hands eagerly reached for the snacks.
She went to silently remove herself from his presence before he noticed her but much to her dread she had accidentally knocked into something.
Caracalla’s head snapped up, his eyes locking onto her.
The servant froze.
For an agonizing moment she was certain she had made a grave mistake. She had intruded on something private. She had interrupted the emperor’s time with his pet. Would he punish her? Would he have her thrown to the gladiators for sport? Her mind raced with every horror story she had heard.
But then to her utter bewilderment, Caracalla’s lips quirked into something that could only be described as playful. His expression far from the terrifying emperor she had envisioned. His lips curled into a lopsided smile, almost boyish in its amusement.
"Well?" he said. "Are you just going to stare?"
The servant's heart pounded. She should apologize. She should bow and retreat immediately. But her eyes flickered to the monkey, watching as it took a piece of fruit from Caracalla's fingers, its tiny mouth nibbling eagerly.
She must have hesitated too long, because Caracalla tilted his head. "Do you want to feed him?"
Her breath hitched. She could not say no. She did not want to say yes. But she nodded her head nonetheless. What other choice did she have?
He grinned. Grinned. A real, genuine smile that lit up his face in a way she had never imagined possible.
"Come here then," he said, motioning her forward.
Her feet wouldn’t move at first. It was insane to step closer to Emperor Caracalla, the man everyone feared. But there was something in the way he looked at her. Not with malice, not with suspicion, but with amusement, as though he found the situation genuinely entertaining.
Slowly, cautiously, she took a few steps forward.
"Good," he said, satisfied. "Now kneel."
Her knees nearly gave out as she obeyed, sinking onto the marble floor beside him.
He grabbed her wrist. Gently, to her surprise, and pressed a small piece of fruit into her palm. She hated herself for noticing how soft and warm his hand was.
"Hold it like this," he instructed. "Dondus is picky. He won’t eat from just anyone."
The monkey tilted its little head at her, his small beady eyes gleaming in the dim torchlight. Caracalla chuckled. "Go on, he’s waiting" he urged.
With hesitant fingers, she extended the fruit. Dondus sniffed at her hand before yanking the piece from her fingers. The servant blinked, astonished by the ticklish sensation of tiny fingers and soft fur against her skin. The moment his tiny paws touched her, a giggle slipped from her lips before she could stop it.
Caracalla turned to look at her, eyes widening slightly. Then, unexpectedly, he laughed.
Not a cruel laugh, not a mocking one. Just… laughter. Light, joyful, utterly different from the man who ruled with mercurial moods.
"He likes you," Caracalla said, watching as Dondus nibbled happily. "You should feel honored. He can’t stand Geta."
The thought of Emperor Geta, a man she had only seen from a distance, being shunned by this tiny creature was unexpectedly funny. She tried to suppress her smile, but Caracalla noticed.
His grin widened. "You can pet him, if you want."
She hesitated. Touching the emperor’s pet felt too bold and too inappropriate. But Caracalla nudged her hand forward. "Here," he muttered.
With the lightest touch, she ran her fingers over Dondus’s tiny head. His fur was soft and warm, and he gave a little happy chirp.
Her chest filled with something warm.
"He’s softer than I thought," she admitted quietly.
Caracalla’s smirk softened. "Yes and spoiled." He reached out and ruffled Dondus’s  little ears. "He gets whatever he wants, don’t you Dondus?"
Dondus let out a tiny noise of approval, and Caracalla beamed. Beamed.
The servant stared.
This wasn’t the cruel emperor from the whispers. This wasn’t the bloodthirsty ruler demanding people to fight to the death for his amusement.
This was someone else. Someone she didn’t expect. Someone who spoke to a monkey as if it were his closest friend. Someone who could laugh, who could smile softly.
Dondus nuzzled his little head back into her hand, desiring more affection.
Caracalla chuckled at scene. "He truly likes you." There was a hint of delight in his voice, as if he had just uncovered some grand secret. "Most people are too afraid to get close. But you…" He studied her with curious, assessing eyes before flashing another grin. "You're not afraid of my Dondus and he can tell."
She wasn't sure what to say. She had been afraid, not of Dondus, but of him. But now sitting here on the cold marble floor, watching the emperor gently stroke his monkey’s head and looking at her, a stranger, with such fondness, she saw something much more human in the man next to her.
It felt like stepping into a different world.
"Do you have a favorite animal?" Caracalla asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
The question confused her. He was asking her something? She had never imagined an emperor would be interested in what a simple servant liked.
She swallowed before answering, "I… I’ve always liked birds."
Caracalla seemed excited by her answer. "We’ll have to get you a pretty bird then. One that will sing you the most beautiful of songs!"
Her eyes widened, more confused than before and she couldn’t stop herself from giving the undignified response of: "...what?"
He smirked, clearly enjoying her flustered reaction. "It will be a gift. A reward for your bravery in facing the fearsome Dondus." He gestured grandly at the tiny creature, who was now climbing onto his shoulder, stuffing his mouth with fruit.
The servant had no idea how to respond. Surely he was joking. But it didn’t feel like an elaborate joke, not with the way he watched her with warmth and enthusiasm in his gaze. Perhaps she was a fool but it felt genuine.
But before she could say anything, a voice called from the hallway.
"Caracalla? What are you doing here?"
Emperor Geta’s voice.
Caracalla groaned, rolling his eyes. "Trying to get away from you," he called back.
The servant nearly choked on her breath. He speaks to his brother like that? She couldn't even imagine herself answering in such a way.
Geta rounded the corner, dressed far more properly than Caracalla, his expression exasperated. His eyes flicked to her, then to his brother, who was still lounging on the floor with his monkey.
"I’ve looked everywhere for you and yet here you are with Dondus again" Geta sighed.
Caracalla grinned, unfazed. "He’s more pleasant company than you."
Geta shook his head and muttered something under his breath. "Come on. We have places to be. And you," he added, glancing at the servant. "Forget whatever nonsense my brother has told you tonight."
The servant nodded quickly, her heart still racing.
Caracalla, meanwhile, leaned in near her and whispered conspiratorially. "Don’t listen to him. My brother is just jealous Dondus doesn’t like him."
Geta sighed loudly and walked away.
The servant hesitated, unsure whether she should leave as well, but Caracalla caught her wrist before she could rise.
His grip was light, but his voice was firm. "You’ll come feed Dondus again tomorrow, won’t you?"
She was taken aback. "You want me to?"
Caracalla’s lips curled into a mischievous grin. "Of course. He likes you. And so do I."
Before she could even process that, he let her go and stood, stretching. "Go on then. But don’t forget."
She hurried away, her heart pounding, her mind spinning.
She had met the fearsome Emperor Caracalla. And somehow he had turned out to be nothing like she expected.
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ssa-writerminds · 10 hours ago
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Hey so this might be a weird request… but 68 kill criminal minds mashup. Where Reid is undercover as chip Taylor. Everything else is up to you. Also if you do do this request, I loved your previous FIC where you had the reader with a larger chest… it made me feel great about my body!!! Hope you have a good day!!!
Spencer Reid || Undercover || 18+
-x- -x- -x- -x- -x- -x- -x- -x- -x-
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader
Warnings: 18+ MDNI Mentions of 68 kill & it's general themes, kinda angsty, Reader is basically kidnapped (?), fem!BAU!Reader, Reader and Spencer are kinda hostile to one another, ooc Spencer, This might not make a whole lot of sense but i tried. 😭 One bed trope, because who doesn't love a trope... (sorry if you don't 😭) Not proof read and was written as I'm recovering from a flare up so i apologize if there's any mistakes 🤧 (lmk if there is!!)
Contents: You and Spencer had been paired together to catch a known criminal. He had been undercover for months now, and finally it was time to catch her. But what you didn't expect was to be stranded in a motel in a different state.
A/N: I absolutely love this request tysm for submitting it ‼️ I'm sorry it took so long! 😣 I hope you enjoy the direction i took this, and keep an eye out for the other parts I have planned! :) And thank you for the kind words!!! :( I'm so glad i could help you feel that way. If my fics help even one person feel slightly better about themselves or their day then it makes everything worth it! :) <3
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8 months. That's how long it took for Spencer to befriend Liza. That's how long you spent watching their every move, reporting back to the BAU in Virginia. They had confirmed to you earlier today that they were making their way to your state and within the next couple of days you would be moving in on Liza.
You sighed as you got off the phone with Hotch. He had briefed you on how this would go. Spencer had told the team that Liza was planning to rob the house of her "employer". 68k and the lives of two people were on the line. You were all aware of how unstable Liza was, she could be set off with the flip of a switch, and so it was important that everything went as smoothly as possible.
You sighed, dialing the number of Spencer, who was undercover as 'Chip Taylor'. The phone rang a few times, it was early in the morning, so you assumed he was getting a safe distance away from Liza to answer the call.
--
Spencer, or 'Chip', stirred as the sound of his phone rang on the bedside. He moved his arm from underneath the sleeping Liza beside him. His eyes widened slightly as he saw your number pop up on the screen. He sat up as quickly as he could without alarming Liza, but still she stirred. "Who's calling you this early?" She groaned, turning her head over, pulling the sheets to her side of the bed.
"Just... work." He responded, getting out of bed and pulling on a pair of pants. He made his way out of the trailer, walking to the other side so that Liza wouldn't hear him.
--
You sighed as you heard the phone finally pick up. "Spencer, get ready." You said, but you were sure your voice would be drowned out by the yawn on the other end of the line.
"For what?" Spencer replied sleepily.
You rolled your eyes, scoffing. "You already forgot about what Liza's planning today?" You could hear the realisation in his voice, you heard a ruffle on the other end and assumed he was checking the time.
"Shit... What time does the team get here?" His voice was quiet, barely a whisper, and you could both only hope that no one could hear him.
"They just got on the jet so... two hours?" You heard Spencer sigh on the other line, realising that Liza would be intense today. They had talked about the plan together a few times, and each time Liza beat down any of Spencer's hesitation with her harsh words and attitude.
"I'll keep you updated the best I can..." You could hear the hesitation in his voice.
"Spencer. Eight months. It'll all be over soon, you can do this. I'll be with you every step of the way." He hesitated again but he thanked you. You hung up the call again and sighed. Spencer was strong, he was a good profiler and had talked down countless criminals in the past, you knew this. But the situation with Liza was different. He had been working on gaining her trust for almost a year, had lived with her every day, and witnessed her emotional volatility, how quick she could snap. Everyone knew she was dangerous, but that's all the more reason you needed to catch her. You could only hope that, for Spencer's sake, today would go smoothly.
-- -- --
The day turned to night. The McKenzie house grew peaceful, rooms turning to dark, the occasional light flicked on or off. Your phone buzzed with a text message as you took cover in a bush towards the side of the house.
Spencer: Pulling up now. Liza has guns. Very agitated.
You ducked further into the bush as you saw headlights poking through the tall fence guarding the plot. You watched a red car pull up to the drive and saw the headlights turn off. You saw Liza turn on the light inside the car, demanding something of Spencer. The nerves were evident on his face and you could see his eyes scanning the house. You took a breath, trying to calm your own mind, praying that Spencer could follow along with her demands until the team got here. You felt a vibration in your pocket and pulled out your phone.
Hotch: Cops not ready. Stop Spencer. Be there in 30.
Shit. You looked up to the car again in time to see Spencer and Liza exiting the car. You could barely contain the anxiety that attacked every sense. The cops wouldn't be here for another half hour. Would they be here that long? You needed to get the message to Spencer, but how? He couldn't answer his phone now. You watched as Liza pulled Spencer in by the collar and aggressively kissed his lips. You couldn't help the scowl that made it's way onto your face. It was up to you to make sure he didn't get himself killed from this point on. You knew that as soon as he learns the cops wouldn't be here when expected that he'd crumble. Once you were sure they couldn't see you, you climbed out of the bush and made your way into the house through the back.
--
You stepped through the threshold of the house. Dead silence filled the room you were in. The kitchen. You had memorized the layout of the house and knew that Spencer and Liza would be passing through the hallway anytime soon. You ducked behind a counter and waited until their footsteps faded away. Hearing them pass, you made your way out into the same hall and watched as they turned the corner. The sound of a floorboard creaking and whispered profanities filled the small space and you hid behind the wall again.
"Chip, what the fuck!"
"I'm sorry!"
"Just get your ass in here!"
You sighed, hearing their whispers and hearing their footsteps proceed even further away. You caught your breath before you followed behind them, skipping the floorboard you had heard them step on. As you got to a doorway you could see Spencer and Liza inside, as well as Mr. McKenzie sat on the couch, the tv shining onto his face. You hid behind the doorway as they walked further into the room. Mr. McKenzie's headphones prevented him from hearing the hushed whispers of Spencer and Liza.
"What are you doing?" Spencer's voice was panicked as Liza approached Mr McKenzie from behind the couch.
"I'm takin' care of business Chip. Just go find the money!" You could hear the smirk in Liza's voice. Could hear her gun cocking. And you definitely heard the gunshot that rang through the air. You held in the gasp that threatened to leave your chest, but Spencer had a different reaction.
Footsteps from behind you distracted you from their argument and you quickly ducked into another room, just as the screams of Mrs. McKenzie rang through the hallway.
"Get her Chip!" Liza shouted. You closed your eyes, willing for this to not end badly. Spencer and Mrs. McKenzie scuffled shortly on the floor before you heard another gunshot. The panicked shout of Spencer calmed the fear that he had been the one shot.
"Liza, what the fuck! This wasn't what I agreed to!"
"Oh get a grip Chip! Think about the money!"
Footsteps on the stairs let you know that it was safe to come out of your hiding place. You rushed over to Mrs. McKenzie and checked her pulse. She was gone. You apologized quietly before heading into the living room. Mr. McKenzie was also gone.
"Who's that?" Liza's voice rang from upstairs, startling you. You looked up in time to see Spencer leaning over the overlook. You were sure you had the same expressions on your face. Shock and fear. Spencer knew that something was wrong as soon as he saw you alone. He shook his head as he saw your eyes fill with apologetic dread.
"Chip!? Take her out!" Liza hit his shoulder, going back to the money. Spencer quickly took off down the stairs, and before you knew it, you were in front of each other in the kitchen speaking in hushed whispers. Spencer's hands held your shoulders as he shook you gently.
"Where is everyone!?"
"Something went wrong at the station, they said they'd be thirty minutes like ten minutes ago."
Spencer sighed, running a hand through his tussled hair. You tried not to show your fear. Being strong right now was the most important thing if either of you were going to get out of this situation.
"Great. That's just great!" He pushed your shoulders away in frustration, but you couldn't blame him.
"Spence... We just need to-" You froze when Spencer's eyes widened, looking behind you.
You turned, but were interrupted by a hit to your head. Everything went quiet and dark.
-- -- --
Your arms ached as you came to. You could feel every limb forcefully pressed towards your body. Your head pounded and you were sure there would be an abrasion there. The feeling of the ground moving beneath you, and the small space you were in let you know that you were in the trunk of a car. The trunk of Liza's car...
You tried to move, tried to punch out the headlights, lift the top of the trunk, but it all amounted to nothing. You couldn't stop the anxiety flowing through your body and the tears filling your tired eyes as you thought about the situation you were in. You were in the trunk of a dangerous criminal's car. She had Spencer, and guns. You and Spencer had never gotten along in your time at the BAU, but you were sure he wouldn't be able to shoot you if it came to it. This would be the end of the both of you.
You also knew that by now the rest of the team would've arrived at the McKenzie house to find neither you, Spencer, or Liza there, but both of the McKenzies dead. This couldn't have gone any worse if you tried to.
"I told you, we should just take her out to a field somewhere and shoot her, no one will know!" You could hear Liza arguing with Spencer in the driver's seat. You trusted Spencer to fight for you, but you didn't know how well it would end for him.
"We can't just do that Liza!"
"Why not Chip? We have the money, we can go wherever we want, run away together. Don't you want that Chip?"
You heard Spencer sigh, he hesitated. "Chip?" Liza's voice called again. You willed for him to say something, anything. The longer he stayed quiet, the more agitated Liza would get. You could sense he was going to try and talk her down from this, but Liza wasn't someone who could be talked down.
"Why don't we just drop her off at a motel?"
"Chip, baby, she saw our faces."
"Just... I don't know, tell her not to snitch?" You heard Liza laugh loudly. Suddenly, the car came to a stop, causing you to hit your head on the metal of the trunk. You heard the car door open and slam closed, and then the trunk opened. You looked up to see Liza standing above you.
"Get out." Her voice was calm at first, but when you didn't react straight away, she raised it. "I said get out!" You climbed out of the trunk quickly, raising your hands as she pointed her gun towards you. "Put this on." She handed you a piece of black fabric, gesturing to your eyes. As you looked back to the car you saw Spencer standing, looking at you with wide eyes. You obeyed Liza's orders and out on the blindfold. She turned you around and tied your hands afterwards. "Get in the back of the car and stay quiet."
--
The rest of the journey was silent. Neither Spencer nor Liza said a word to each other. You couldn't see Spencer, but you could hear him bouncing his leg and fidgeting with his gun. The next time the car stopped, Liza ordered him to get you out of the car.
"I'm sorry..." He whispered to you as he pulled you out of the back seat. You nodded in acknowledgement, making the job easier for him.
"Here." Liza said, and you could hear the rustling of paper.
"What's this?"
"Hopefully enough to get you two a room. I've seen the way you look at her, don't act dumb. You two can go live in this crappy motel, maybe the desert when you've ran outta money, but I'm gonna buy me a big, nice house with a pool." You could hear the smile in her voice. Evil, cunning, exactly as you had all profiled her. You jumped slightly as you heard the door slam shut again, and the tires squeal as the car drove off.
Your hands shook as you tried to undo the fabric tied around your wrists. Spencer sighed, putting what you assumed to be the money in his pocket, and helped you undo the restraints. "Here, let me..." Once he untied you, you took off the blindfold.
"Fuck!" Spencer shouted beside you, kicking a rock into the road. You had never heard him swear like this before, sure, when he was "Chip" he had learned what kind of personality to use to attract Liza, but she was gone now, Spencer could be, well, Spencer again.
"Spence..." You said quietly, raising a hand to rest on his shoulder, but he shied away from your touch. "Spence please..."
"Just go away! I need to think for a second." He sat down on the sidewalk, head in his hands. You stood there, watching him, at a loss for words and unsure how to help him cool down. You had never seen him this angry before.
A buzz in your pocket interrupted you. You still had your phone! The screen lit up with Hotch's name and you breathed a sigh of relief.
Hotch: We've got her car and know where she's headed, not far behind her. There's a motel not far from you. Take the rest of the night off. Pick you both up tomorrow.
You sighed, thankful that the team knew where you and Spencer were, and were following closely behind Liza. You turned to Spencer again, who seemed to be calmer now.
"They got her..." You said quietly, not wanting to agitate him again. "Hotch said we can take the night off..." You waited for his response. He simply nodded, standing and walking in the direction of the motel.
-- -- --
The reception building was dim. The amount of keys on the wall told you that people didn't stay here often, and you just hoped that the rooms were clean. "Hello! Room for two?" A friendly voice appeared behind the desk.
You smiled at the short man and nodded, Spencer just put the money in front of him, still clearly upset about the events of the night. "Whatever this will get us."
The man smiled widely, taking the money and counting. "A double room, and I'll also sign you up for breakfast."
"Is there enough for seperate rooms?" Spencer asked, but the man apologized and shook his head. You both had secretly hoped that there was enough for two single rooms, but now you just hoped that there were two separate beds.
Spencer took the keys and guided you around to your room. He unlocked the door for you and let you inside first.
The room wasn't terrible, it smelled worse than it looked, but it by no means was dirty. It just had a... scent to it. Your nose crinkled as you took in the room around you.
Spencer walked over to the bed and sighed, looking down at it. "There's only one bed..."
-- -- --
To be continued...
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snowfieldstories · 2 days ago
Text
In Life and Death [Chapter 6]
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Kim Dokja x Reader/Original female character
In Life and Death Masterlist
Warnings: violence and language
AN: I finished this, posted it on ao3...then forgot to post here SORRY!
Summary:
In which a reader finds herself tossed into the pages of her favorite web novel after her untimely death. A novel of a novel within reality. It's a reader's dream, right? Well, this reader vows to bring the right epilogue to her beloved character, Kim Dokja. She will give him the happiest of endings. Or she will die trying.
⚠️MAJOR SPOILERS FOR ORV WEB NOVEL AND MANHWA!!!!⚠️
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Episode V. Chapter 6 — Reapers and Revelations
Three messages taunted us soon after defeating the theater master.
[Main Scenario #3 — Emergency Defense has ended.]
[You have obtained 1,000 coins as compensation.]
[The fourth main scenario is about to begin!]
"It hasn't even been ten minutes," groaned Jihye. "Can't we get a break?"
Dokja stretched his arm that had taken the brunt of the fall when he was punched earlier. "Actually, Jihye, I need you to watch Yoo Joonghyuk. Stay here with him until he wakes. And please inform me when he wakes up...I want to give him a few more hits."
His eyes slid to me at his last words, then back to Jihye. She nodded and took up a position watching over Joonghyuk. I picked up Gilyoung, who had fallen into a deep sleep soon after wishing on the meteor shower. He curled against my chest, murmuring.
Dokja, Heewon, Namwoon, and I made our way down. The dungeon had become a regular theater once again.
No one felt like speaking. Heewon twisted her loose locks aimlessly around her finger as she was lost in thought; Dokja lugged the shield for Hyunsung, tapping along the rim; Namwoon, I watched the closest, seemed to be dragging his feet, a slight droop to his shoulders.
Dokja's steps faltered, then his face flipped between reactions, like he was having a conversation. Bihyung was talking to him. This, I knew, because I had reread that part only yesterday.
I nudged into Dokja to catch his attention. "You can say anything about that novel and it should filter, even for Bihyung," I said in a soft voice.
The dokkaebi in question immediately popped into existence, right in front of my face. I heard Heewon yell and unsheathe her new sword.
[I've had enough. What the hell are you?]
Though he was rather cute in his still-small size, the force of his voice overwhelmed my senses at such a close distance. I had to activate my rationality skill to quell my fighting instincts.
I looked to my three companions, equally alert and tense beside me. "It's fine. Go down to the platform, and I'll catch up."
Dokja's hard expression turned from Bihyung to me. "No way."
"You need to be there for the next scenario, Dokja." His face cracked with the hesitation, so I pushed. "Take Chungmuro. Gong Pildu is under contract, yes? Then the station is yours. You can follow the King's Road before Joonghyuk."
At Heewon's concerned glance at the sleeping boy in my arms, I set him gently by the wall. "Gilyoung will be safer up here for the time being."
Dokja made a noise somewhere between frustration and acceptance.
"...Fine. Come on, Heewon-ssi, Namwoon." Dokja's eyes flitted between me and Bihyung, and I knew what his meaningful glance was telling me:
Be careful.
We seemed to be making the phrase into a new habit.
I stopped Namwoon with a hand on his shoulder. The other two had gone on downstairs, but I still whispered.
"There will be a flag, and Dokja must take it. He should have things handled with Gong Pildu, but if anyone else gets dangerously close—I want you to kill them."
Namwoon nodded, his head hung low as he wouldn't meet my eyes. Then he left.
[You...what are you?]
I looked at Bihyung. We had not yet spoken directly like this in the current turn. "I am an incarnation."
[You're not normal.]
"What do you think I am?"
[Ha. I don't know what to think. That's why I asked.]
Bihyung shook. Whether it was in fury or fear was yet to be determined, but neither one was very good for me. His red eyes were twin pools of magma eager to burn me.
I tried a different track. "I could tell you. But the constellations will anger with you if this conversation is also filtered."
His teeth bared in a horrific grin.
[Luckily, there are more exciting things happening down below. I've closed off this part of the channel.]
My face was carefully neutral, but inside I was reeling. Could he do that in the novel? Not for the first time, I cursed not having the crazy ability to recall minute details of a novel like Kim Dokja. The only things I could remember were times when Bihyung used ads to block conversations with Dokja; but it made sense that he could control the channel video feed as well. I tucked away this important information to use in the future.
For now, I was alone.
"Let's speak freely then. This is my second turn at life." I crossed my arms.
[A returner?]
Bihyung's eyes popped. Whatever he had expected, it must not have been that.
[Shit. That's good, right? More excitement to stir up entertainment. No...she could ruin my growing channel with her knowledge, shit. What to do, what to do...]
I snapped my fingers at the mumbling dokkaebi. "Hey. Listen. Kill me and you will have the wrath of certain powerful constellations down your toga. I think you know who."
[...]
"And," I said, arching my brow. "In my last turn your channel was weak. Uninteresting. Already in this turn, you've exploded in growth more than in nearly twenty scenarios before. You need variables like me."
Bihyung watched me for a long time. Then he let out a screech like a rusty bike tire��his laugh.
[You and Kim Dokja are one and the same. Is he a returner, too?]
I shrugged.
[...I didn't expect you to tell me anyways. So, I suppose you want to make a deal with me?]
"No. Just leave me be."
At that, Bihyung crackled with energy. Definitely fury this time.
[How arrogant. A mere incarnation, giving ME a demand.]
"You said it yourself. I'm not a normal incarnation."
[The exclusive skill 'Sacred Light Lv. 6' has been activated!]
I had leveled up after the fight with the theater master.
In a flash, ribbons of light slithered towards Bihyung. He shouted as they suspended him in place, wrapping around his body in pretty gold stripes.
"I killed plenty of constellations in my last turn. If I could kill a constellation, then how easy would it be to kill a low-level dokkaebi?"
Level six wasn't the best, but it was sufficiently strong for a lower dokkaebi like Bihyung. My mana was the real hurdle.
"But I don't want to kill you. In fact, I quite like you, Bihyung. I think you'll be a great help to us in the future; perhaps even a friend."
My light twisted, tightening and shaping around the seething dokkaebi. I wanted to take advantage of this private conversation.
"This sacred light was given to me by Mother. Do you know who my Mother is? My sponsor?"
[...No.]
Interesting. So she was still a mystery to him in this world-turn, too. "I want to keep it that way. Please redirect any comments or questions about her from other constellations, and send them to me. Actually, scrub out her name, while you're at it."
[I thought you didn't want a deal.]
"I don't. Think of this as a friendly exchange."
Bihyung scoffed. It sounded ridiculous, but I was confident. Even more so as I used fifty accumulated luck from my skill, 'Bank of Lady Fortune.'
[Withdrawal successful. You now have: 47/500 luck.]
"In return, I'll do my best to avoid talking about my status as a returner. Then there will be no censoring, no outraged constellations down your throat."
Gilyoung snored loudly in the silence that followed.
[I...keuuk...okay. I'll do it. Can you release the bindings now?]
"They're not bindings."
Bihyung looked down to find a giant golden bow atop his stomach. Two more adorned each of his little horns. It was terribly cute.
I couldn't help a small chuckle as I released my skill. "You make a lovely present."
[You really—huh?! Oh, nothing to worry—apologies, dear constellations—ah, yes, I've fixed the issue now. It's back on. Ahaha. See?]
Bihyung gave me one last, inscrutable glance before he zapped away. I picked Gilyoung back up and continued down.
"Hm, maybe I was too harsh with him..."
I wanted Bihyung to think well of me. I wasn't lying when I said I liked him; I did, very much so. But it was a bit early in the story to befriend a dokkaebi.
Though I had used luck, it really only worked in this situation because Bihyung was waffling between decisions to begin with. Had he been hellbent on killing me, or refusing the favor, my luck would have been powerless.
Well, it worked out in the end. Hopefully my sponsor would be satisfied.
The Mother of Divine Desire.
The reality was...I didn't know much more about her than Bihyung. What little we had communicated in the last round was mainly about me and my development as an incarnation. She always brushed off any questions about herself.
In fact, I didn't know if Mother would approve of my actions just now. Perhaps she would be furious. But I had to trust in her—she had chosen me, so she must believe in my judgment and methods.
Blind faith was not something I excelled at. But she had proven a faith in me, so for that, I must try.
Just as I reached the bottom of the stairs, a ping alerted me to the latest development.
['Kim Dokja' has claimed the 'white' flag!]
I smiled.
"Take the flag! There's only five minutes!"
Hyunsung grabbed his new shield and protected Dokja and the others from the Landlord Alliance. I kicked a rock in between the two sides.
"Gong Pildu-ssi, Kim Dokja will be our representative."
All eyes swiveled to me. Sangah called out my name, and I entrusted her with the still-sleeping Gilyoung.
"Yeona," Gong Pildu said. "Where have you been? Do you know what this sly bastard and his accomplices—?!"
As Gong Pildu struggled to get up, I caught the dirty imprint of a boot on his back. I turned to Dokja just as he ordered Gong Pildu to stay down. "Keep your head to the floor and your mouth shut until I tell you otherwise."
"Dokja! You didn't need to step on him."
His lips thinned, annoyed. "I didn't see him down there."
"Sure you didn't." I rolled my eyes.
"What, not happy I beat up your father?" he said with a touch too much snark.
Hyunsung lowered his shield as I approached. "Father?" I heard Heewon ask from the back. My finger poked the hard bulletproof vest on Dokja's chest.
"You have the command," I spoke quietly. "Now it's time to gather more people to your side...pretending to be cruel won't help your case."
Dokja seemed to really consider my words. He nodded once, then ordered Gong Pildu to get up and move freely—but still unable to take the flag.
I was satisfied and went over to help Gong Pildu to his feet.
"You're a lovesick fool, girl," he muttered, and my ears felt hot. What was with these people and their bloodhound abilities to sniff out my emotions? Or was I truly that transparent?
"You don't approve?" I tried teasing, but it came out a bit weak.
He scowled. "Certainly not. He's trouble; you can do far better."
"Don't worry, it's one-sided, anyways."
Gong Pildu gave me a scrutinizing look, almost like he was trying to figure out if I was joking, then he brushed his clothes free of dust and walked away. He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "if only."
Before I could call him back to ask, my attention was drawn back to the current sub-scenario.
"Choose whether you'll stay here, under me, or leave Chungmuro," said Dokja, his voice ringing out.
The other people of Chungmuro station, Alliance members and random strangers alike, began shouting their doubts and questions at Dokja. He answered each one calmly and with ease. "...Oh, don't mind Gong Pildu. That guy belongs to me, now!"
At a sharp look from me, he amended the statement. "I just mean he's under strict control."
[The sub-scenario has ended.]
In the end, only three men left Chungmuro station. Twenty-eight remained.
Based on Dokja's click of the tongue as he read Star Stream messages, I summarised that he still didn't have enough credibility to earn the "king" title.
[Well then, let's begin the main game.]
Bihyung zeroed in on me as he snapped his fingers.
[The fourth main scenario has been activated!]
I read the clear conditions for capture the flag. It was the exact same as in the novel; I had been worried Bihyung might change up the details of this one, as revenge for my bold...threats. Yeah, I was kind of threatening towards him.
But Bihyung wished us luck and vanished from the room as fast as he came.
The group broke into discussion about the main scenario, and I saw Dokja go talk to Gong Pildu. I went over to sit by Namwoon, who was staring off at the grimy wall opposite him.
"Thank you for keeping watch earlier," I told Namwoon.
His expression only clouded over more. "I didn't do anything. I didn't help."
I sensed his turmoil and put a hesitant hand on his shoulder. "Namwoon, was it too much of me to ask for you to possibly kill those people?"
"No," he said quickly. "I don't care about that."
"Then what...?"
"Noona." I was alarmed as his red eyes became wobbly with unshed tears.
I wrapped my arm around him as he clutched his knees. "No 'angel'?" I tried.
"I don't deserve to call you that," he choked out. "I attacked you—you got hurt because of me—"
So it was that. My hand moved to pet his hair; it was surprisingly soft for how spiky it appeared. "If you want forgiveness, then of course I forgive you. But you don't need it. The theater master was controlling your mind—you did nothing wrong."
"But I wanted to hurt you." His voice was rough. Troubled. "I felt it."
[The constellation 'Abyssal Black Flame Dragon' looks upon his incarnation with sorrow.]
I pushed his head back to look him directly in the eye. "Kim Namwoon. The theater master twists minds. Sure, you're a violent kid, sometimes to the extreme, and maybe you're a delusional demon...and you're most definitely a chuunibyou and otaku. But none of that makes you a villain who likes hurting his companions." I flicked his forehead lightly. "Plus, I like all those things about you."
"Y—you do?"
"Of course. Why do you think I took you in that day on the train?" I smiled. "I wanted that badass, nerdy kid on my team."
Namwoon nuzzled against my hand, eyes closed, almost purring with content. "I'm not a nerd, though," he mumbled.
There was a cough nearby.
Dokja looked rather unimpressed. I gestured from him to the younger boy, and mouthed, say something nice.
With a pained grimace, he said, reluctantly, "Kim Namwoon, you fight well."
...Are you serious? My thoughts flattened in disbelief, and it must have shown on my face because Dokja heaved a great sigh and said, "And it's good that you're with us."
Despite the questionable quality (and sincerity) of the compliments, they made Namwoon perk up. "I am insanely strong, aren't I? And I'll grow even stronger with a dragon as my sire." It was such a chuuni thing to say that I had to cough to hide my laugh. "Stronger than you, too, ahjussi, just you wait."
Then Namwoon tore away from my side and raced down the hall, cackling with a newfound determination.
"I—I am not that old!"
I hid my smile at the offense on Dokja's face. "He's been spending too much time around Lee Jihye, it seems."
"These damn kids," said Dokja without any real ire, but sounding very much like an old ahjussi.
This time I let my laughter ring out freely.
"I don't understand why you like him so much," said Dokja. There was a pinch between his brows, a contempt that seemed directed inwards, and perhaps he was thinking of how similar the two of them were. A sear went through my chest. I knew of his self-loathing, but it was heartbreaking to witness for real. I didn't know what to say without revealing my intimate knowledge of him.
"I think he's worthy of being our companion," I finally responded. "And he has a good heart. Uh...even with his craziness."
Dokja stared at me, a peculiar expression on his face.
VROOM! VROOM, VROOOM!
We leapt down onto the train tracks in time to see a group of men and women hop off their motorbikes. Dokja raised his sword.
"Stop there. Put down your weapons."
A gentle-looking man stepped into the light, hands raised. "We didn't come for a fight."
"Then why did you come?"
"Well, first I should introduce myself. I'm Kang Ilhun from the Dongdaemun Group."
Dokja was sharp, calculating, as he studied Kang Ilhun. "Kim Dokja."
"Kim Dokja-ssi..." Something flashed in Kang Ilhun's face. "We are here to offer an alliance."
After more back and forth with the Dongdaemun Group, Dokja, Heewon, Sangah, Hyunsung, and I broke away to form a quick plan. "...and Hyunsung-ssi will stay here with Gong Pildu to protect—"
"No," I interjected, remembering what was to come. "I'll stay, and Hyunsung will join you all."
They moved to leave, but I sought Dokja's attention one last time.
"Come back quickly." The gravity in my voice drew a furrow to his brows, but I urged him on ahead.
I then went to Gong Pildu after they had left. "Set up your private property on this floor. As wide as you can make it. We're going to need your turrets soon."
He did as I asked. In the meantime, I moved Gilyoung to a better-shielded corner to continue sleeping. Namwoon was still off somewhere, but I figured the sound of fighting would draw him back eventually.
That was when the Myeongdong Group attacked.
[Someone has invaded private property!]
"What are these bastards—!" Gong Pildu raged as his skills activated.
"Gain control later! I just need to put the flag in and it will be over," shouted a man with a red 'Myeongdong' flag tied around his head. He buffed his teammates with the power of the red flag.
I killed a few that attacked me, as bullets from Gong Pildu's turrets streamed past my head.
"Hahahaha look at these weaklings?!"
Namwoon had returned in full glory, and now hacked away at the nearest intruders. I sent an arrow to pierce the back of one that swung too close to Namwoon while he was turned.
He looked at the arrow with renewed interest. "Angel-noona, when I steal their flag...can I have my kiss on the cheek?"
As he spoke, Gong Pildu's turrets blasted at the Myeongdong Group. I wasn't given the chance to respond.
"RETREAT!" someone shouted.
Their leader jumped down to the train tracks, his men following, and before Namwoon could leap after them a great flame erupted. Screams were drowned out by the firing of Gong Pildu's turrets gunning them down.
The smoke cleared, and a red flag floated to the ground.
"It's mine!" Namwoon raced past Gong Pildu, arm outstretched, but before he could grab the flag it was snatched away.
Kim Dokja hopped onto the platform. "Oh, did you want this?"
Namwoon's mouth twisted sourly, and Gong Pildu mumbled, "Son of a bitch."
There was no one left of Myeongdong besides Kang Ilhun, who was now tied with Sangah's threads and carried back by Lee Hyunsung. Dokja gathered us around Kang Ilhun and demanded the source of his information. Kang Ilhun panicked at the first mention of torture; he broke entirely when threatened with death.
"The prophets! The prophets are in Dongmyo Station!" Then Kang Ilhun's eyes widened as his mouth foamed.
I sent a clamp of sacred light between his teeth before he could bite off his own tongue.
Eventually, Dokja left to check on Joonghyuk, and I helped clear away the bodies with the others. Gilyoung had woken up at some point and latched onto my side as we worked.
[The constellation 'Demon-like Judge of Fire' warns you!!]
What? What was happening?!
[The constellation 'Prisoner of the Golden Headband' is confused.]
[The constellation 'Abyssal Black Flame Dragon' wants to blast 'Kim Dokja' to pieces!]
[The constellation 'Abyssal Black Flame Dragon' reaffirms that his incarnation is the better choice.]
[The constellation 'Secretive Plotter' thinks that 'Kim Dokja' is a bastard philanderer.]
[Many constellations are shocked by the truth of the filtered conversation and 'Kim Dokja's' affections.]
Excuse me? Before my feet could carry me back to the Theater Dungeon, Dokja reappeared at the bottom of the stairs, slightly out of breath.
"Lee Jihye spews nothing but bullshit. And everyone is an idiot," said Dokja loudly.
[The constellation 'Demon-like Judge of Fire' looks at you mournfully, because 'Kim Dokja's' heart is pulled in many directions.]
...I think I understood. "It's fine, Uriel. Don't pay it any mind."
She sent me five hundred pity coins, anyways.
Dokja, after stalling for a few minutes in front of me and the stream of constellation messages in front of him, had his mind drawn back to the issue of prophets, and he tucked away to search for the answer on his phone.
I rejoined our companions.
"So that bastard and his group tried to attack us?" Sangah and I were catching Gilyoung up on what he had missed, and the new main scenario. I nodded, and Gilyoung gripped Thor's hammer. "We should kill him."
Sangah startled, but I placed a hand on his knee. "He can help us find the person that sent them to us, so, for now, let's wait."
[Oho, but you might find another use for him.]
Bihyung sneered down at us, a gleam in his darkened, red eyes. I had a bad feeling about this. Maaaybe I shouldn't have antagonized a dokkaebi so early in the scenarios.
[We're going to spice things up around here. Life's no fun when it's easy, eh?]
He called out to everyone gathered in Chungmuro Station.
[Enjoy the games.]
...Games?
[A hidden scenario has arrived.]
[Hidden Scenario — Angels vs. Reaper] Category: Hidden Difficulty: B+ Clear Conditions: 1. The Angel of Judgement must uncover the identity of the Reaper and input their name before the time limit runs out. 2. The Guardian Angel can input two names per day, including themselves if they so choose, to protect against death from the Reaper. These two people must change each day. 3. The Reaper must input one name per day to die. They must not be caught by the Angel of Judgement. 4. At the end of the time limit, if the Reaper has killed a sufficient number of people and escaped judgement, they win; if the Angels catch the Reaper and escape death, they win. There can only be one winning side. Time Limit: 4 days Compensation: 4,000 coins to each victor Failure: For the two Angels, the loss of one captured-station rank for your group. For the Reaper, death.
Damn it. God fucking damn it. How did Bihyung even have the plausibility for this sort of trick? He must have insane backing from a higher-dokkaebi or some bloodthirsty, conniving constellations. Perhaps both.
Even before it popped up in front of me, I knew.
[You are the Reaper.]
[You have 23:59:58 to kill someone.]
[Input name here: __________]
All the luck in the world wouldn't get me out of this one.
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princessofgotham777 · 2 days ago
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Dating Jason Todd (Part Sixteen: Let Down)
Jason Todd x Reader
fanfic type: angst, fluff, comfort (ongoing)
If you liked the Titans show but wish they handled Jason’s story line differently you might like this fic!
Hey guysssss, posting two days in a row is WILD but I’m happy about it lol. I tried to make this as sad as possible so hope you enjoy lol. Backstory is coming soon I’ve just got a bit more planned for the rest of this one and who knows maybe I’ll keep adding to this as well as the backstory. Hope you enjoy!
So story line, this doesn’t really take place in any specific universe but I’m gonna be pulling concepts from Titans, Arkham Knight, The Batman, Under the Red Hood, and whatever lore I remember from the CW shows cause I grew up watching those, then just my imagination of course. Reader is referred to as she/her btw.
Warnings: talking about death, suicide, depression, torture (it’s not graphic I hate gore it’s just sad), talking about intimacy (not graphic), struggling with eating, topics of grief, violence, panic attacks, PTSD
Part Sixteen: Let Down
“One day I am gonna grow wings
A chemical reaction
Hysterical and useless”- Let Down, Radiohead
After Jason woke up everything was a blur. The league, the feeling of his body healing yet being in excruciating pain, the realization nobody ever came to save him…not you or Dick or even Bruce. His memories were foggy, fragments came back to him. Nights his mom got high and he wasn’t sure she’d wake up, boosting cars and getting taken in by Batman, putting on the Robin suit and feeling invincible, and finally you…your smile, the way you blushed when Jason spoke, the way your hair swayed as you walked. He remembered the first time he ever saw you. It was at the manor. You were wondering around looking for Dick when you found Jason. Jason longed for the years he’d never be able to return to. The days you two spent becoming friends before you even knew he was Robin. The stolen glances at titans tower that turned to midnight drives through the city. The shock when he figured out you liked him back. He’d never known he could be loved so gently, so kindly. He expected time and time again you’d leave him but you never did. You defended him to Dick and the team. When everything happened with Deathstroke you comforted him through nightmares and ptsd. When he wanted everything to end you talked him off the roof. And when he chose to leave the titans you left with him. He knows Joker killed him but nothing else. All he knows is he has to find you.
Present Day
You figured the guys who grabbed you were sent by Joker. Although you should be focused on how you’ll escape you can’t stop thinking about the last words the voice on the phone said, “it’s me.” The words echoed through your mind. “It’s me,” It’s who? Maybe it’s Joker playing more mind games with you. Maybe this guys working for him. But killing dealers selling to kids and going after Black Mask isn’t very Joker. Suddenly someone rips off the bag from your head. Big surprise, it’s the clown.
“What the fuck do you want from me!” You scream.
“Well somebody’s a bit upset,” Joker says.
“You killed Jason and I’m gonna fucking kill you!” You scream as you try to escape the chair you’re tied to.
“We’ll see about that,” he says. You look to your leg and notice your tracker hasn’t been cut out. It’s not a Batman one, you’d cut that out when you left the titans. It was one you had Thea put in cause you knew no matter what you’d want her to know where you were. “You’re probably wondering why that little tracker hasn’t been ripped out yet,” Joker says. You glare up at him in response. “I’m just waiting for the original boy wonder to pop in so I can reunite him with the recently deceased Robin 2.0,” he laughs.
“Why are you doing this,” you say with anger trying to hid the horror and desperation in your voice.
“Maybe I just love the drama of your little love triangle, that would be something huh. No I may be insane but I’m not boring. Course it all boils down to the big guy…the bat. He thinks you kids are all that, that he’s trained the next justice league when in reality you kids can’t even manage to keep yourselves alive,” he says. “I mean look at poor Jason. And now Grayson’s not to far behind. As for you I’m not sure what would be sweeter…killing you or letting you be the only one to tell Batman his first two sons are dead…because they were blinded by stupidity…because of you,”
“Dick is gonna kill you!” You yell.
“And break daddy’s number one rule, I don’t think so. I wonder if you could though, if you really have it in you,” he says.
“Untie me and you can find out for yourself,” you say. Something Jason always said in training was acting like a smartass is a great way to mask fear, you’re hoping you’re doing a good enough job cause you’ve never been so terrified.
“I can see why you went with the replacement, better personality match I suppose,” he says. “Gosh where is boy wonder is that tracker working,” he says. He grabs a knife and stabs it into your thigh. You yelp in pain. He drags it through your flesh and rips it out. Then he takes his pasty fingers and digs out the tiny tracker. You throw up slightly at the feeling of his fingers in the wound. Course you had a bit of training on how to handle pain but it wasn’t Batman level. Suddenly you hear a gun go off and Joker ducks. Out from the shadows you see that red bat symbol. It’s Red Hood. Joker crawls across the floor to escape the 6’4 man armed with two scorpions. Red Hood is trying to get a clear shot when another gun not belonging to him goes off. Hood ducks and in the corner of the room running towards you, you see Dick. Joker crawls away trying to escape and Dick is running for you but Red Hood isn’t focused on either of them; he’s focused on you. You recognize him for a moment; it’s the man who helped you in the nightclub. The one with the red mask and white streak of hair. He’s been following you for a while.
“Who the fuck are you. You’ve been stalking me!” You scream. You’ve been stalked before and you understand it’s not some romantic gesture, it’s dangerous. Red Hood pulls a knife from his pocket and you scream, “get the fuck away from me!” He cuts your arms loose and you try to push him away. You fail but nonetheless he backs away and scans the room for Joker. He turns around and is immediately punched in the face by Dick. You see Joker lying on the floor, Dick must’ve knocked him out.
“Hey fuckface I’m here to help,” Red Hood says. Your jaw drops slightly. Only two people have ever called Dick “fackface” you…and Jason. You try to stand up but get dizzy. Red Hood removes his mask, his back is to you but you swear you see Dick say, “Jason?” As you pass out Dick punches Red Hood in the face again.
I hope you liked this part. Also sorry in advance cause some of the next part is written already and the Dick Grayson x Reader lore for the backstory only gets wilder. If you liked this fic remember to like, repost, comment, and/or follow. Any positive feedback is much appreciated it helps me stay motivated to keep writing and posting parts. Check out my Masterlist for the other parts to this fic and also to keep an eye for when I start posting parts of the backstory for this fic (it’s gonna be about how reader meets Dick and Jason and becomes a titan/her time as a titan). Also if you’d be interested in any of these characters x reader there’s fics for, Anakin Skywalker, Dick Grayson, Peter Hayes, and Christian Ozera as well. Thank you for reading and have a great night!🩷
Masterlist
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clarkeyhill · 2 days ago
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Need a ride? | Arthur Hill
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Fluff
It was one of those warm summer nights when the city felt alive, like the pulse of London had slowed into a rhythmic hum. The sky was just dark enough to let the neon lights of the city shimmer, casting their glow across the streets as I made my way toward the nightclub where George and his friend Arthur were waiting.
The windows of my new 4x4 rolled down, letting in the summer air, cool and fresh as it swirled around me. George was already outside, leaning against the curb with a grin plastered on his face, a drink still clutched in his hand. I pulled up, the music from inside the club spilling out like a burst of energy, mixing pop hits with the occasional throwback classic. The bass thumped in my chest, and George, ever the impatient one, waved me down as soon as I came into view.
“About time, mate!” George shouted over the sound of the music, climbing into the passenger seat and slamming the door behind him. Arthur, his friend, shuffled in after, eyes half-lidded, clearly not in much of a state to hold a conversation. He slumped into the backseat, the warm summer air catching his hair just right as we sped off down the streets of London.
I wasn’t sure why I’d agreed to come out in the first place. George knew I wasn’t really the clubbing type, but I’d already been awake and figured I might as well take the 4x4 out for a spin. It had only been a week since I’d picked it up, and driving through the city’s winding streets was the best way to get a feel for it.
The music blended seamlessly, a mix of lively pop beats and the occasional throwback from the ‘80s, and I found myself tapping along to the rhythm, trying to ignore the fact that Arthur had barely muttered a word the entire ride. The drive was short, and before I knew it, we were outside George’s flat. I parked the car, the engine rumbling to a stop, and George turned to me with a grin.
“Thanks for the ride,” he said, though I could tell he was eager to get inside. I looked at Arthur in the backseat, his head tilted against the window, eyes closed as though he’d already slipped into sleep.
“You want me to help you get him up?” I asked, feeling a bit awkward.
George chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, it’s fine. I’ve got him.”
But when I glanced back, Arthur still hadn’t moved. His body was slumped in the seat, his arm hanging out of the window, the tips of his fingers barely brushing against the cool night air. He looked worse for wear, disoriented as he started to stir.
I sighed, unbuckling my seatbelt. “You sure?”
George nodded but paused before adding, “If you want, you can grab him a glass of water. He’ll probably need it.”
I stepped out of the car and opened the back door to help Arthur out. He stirred again, his eyes fluttering open just long enough to meet mine. A faint smile crossed his face, and he grabbed my hand as I helped him to his feet. His grip tightened slightly as if he hadn’t quite realized what he was doing, but he didn’t let go.
“You okay?” I asked softly, more out of habit than concern, but I was starting to wonder if I should’ve offered to help in the first place.
Arthur blinked, looking up at me for a long moment as if seeing me for the first time. Then, his eyes softened, and his voice was barely a whisper when he spoke.
“I’m glad you cane to get us, You’re really pretty,” he said, the words hanging in the air like a quiet confession.
I froze, unsure of how to respond. His words were unexpected, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to blur, the night stretching just a little bit longer. I swallowed, unsure of where this conversation would go, but for the first time that night, the rush of the city felt distant.
“I, uh… thanks,” I said, awkwardly pulling my hand back, though there was no malice in his touch. It was a strange moment, and though I’d barely spent any time with Arthur before, it felt like he was trying to say something more than just a simple compliment. But I didn’t know what.
Before I could speak again, George was already at the front door, fumbling with his keys. “You coming in?” he called over his shoulder, giving me a look. “You can crash for a bit if you want.”
I glanced back at Arthur, still standing beside me, his head tilting as if he were trying to make sense of the situation. I nodded, stepping back from the car, feeling the quiet weight of the moment hanging between us.
“Sure,” I said, suddenly feeling like I was a part of something I didn’t fully understand. I followed George, and with that, the night continued
-
Part 2?
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mewnia · 1 month ago
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This is basically how they solved their argument, right?
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hyohaehyuk · 3 months ago
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Sam being really protective of Jacob in 2 comic cons 🥰
[sdcc 2022]
sam encouraging jacob to share which new figurines he got/jacob about taking him & eric to the floor:
Jacob: i think they were like, “oh, we thought–” Eric *teasing*: “–you were a normal person” Sam: i loved it. I just cant believe some of the artwork [of the figures]. it's amazing!
He really loves the fact jacob is a nerd 🥰
Also at beginning, Eric even says "now i know the level of lunacy of the fandoms (that attend to comic cons)" and Jacob was outraged. He even mumbles "how dare you?!" to Sam 🤣
[sdcc 2024]
sam protecting jacob in his absence, as the interviewer jokes about trash-talking jacob:
interviewer: he can't fight back! sam: *fighting back* jacob has massive fomo […] *glancing at delainey & assad* so let's not trash jacob!
via thejamlore (x)(x)
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reneesbooks · 1 year ago
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hellooooo just checking in since I saw you post (no pressure to answer this tho!!) How have you been? :D
the way my ass forgot to answer this for like four days.....smh at myself
hello love <3 i have been bad. overall. but getting better! took a 3 month break from tumblr due to work and the overwhelming flood of antisemitism that was suddenly on here. my personal life took a dive for similar reasons. one of my kitties passed very suddenly; we didn't even know she was that sick until we took her to the vet and he told us she was too far gone. my synagogue had a bomb threat so I stopped going. my union nearly put out an antisemitic statement regarding the war and only didn't bc me and the 5 other jews that work for the district begged them not to bc it would directly endanger us, especially those of us with students who are politically active (hi secondary ed!!) considering the district does absolutely nothing to keep violent kids out of our classes. that was officially the worst zoom call I've ever been in. I got covid during the middle of a work trip and had to go home early so I lost 2 days of bonus pay AND had covid. i think i was at work maybe 10 days of october and 1 of those days i had to go home early bc i had a nervous breakdown during my lunch.
however!! november and december have been a slow uphill. got some mental health treatment while i was quarantined, wrote a TON and have what can almost be called a complete draft of lacuna, worked my ass off at work to make up for all the substitute fuck-ups and finish the trimester. got through my first real evaluation and only got docked points for having chairs on top of tables (not that i'm like. mad about it.) the trimester ended on a high note and i'm teaching sewing right now which is basically 50% social-emotional learning (meditation and hippie shit for those of you that aren't in education) so that the 13-year-olds don't rage quit so it's the most relaxing fucking thing. the bomb threats at my synagogue stopped in time for me to go to the hanukkah services and i celebrated 4 days of nonstop christmas with that side of my family. we're on winter break until the end of this week and I am actually looking forward to the start of this year (manifesting SO hard).
so. tldr, rollercoaster, baby.
hope you have been doing well! <3 i know i have SO many tags to catch up on lol
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inbabylontheywept · 7 months ago
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i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.
adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.
right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.
it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.
still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.
i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.
i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.
so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.
coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."
and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.
still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.
i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.
so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went
...oh.
and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.
so i did.
i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.
i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.
it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:
*ptooie.* "that all you got?"
i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!
but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.
my coach did not.
i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.
"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"
and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said
"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."
which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.
and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.
fine.
but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.
and then he left.
and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."
but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.
and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.
he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.
and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.
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