#he's a part of my current wip and i just like him so much

[my-gf-timothy-jackson-drake]

hot dog lookin ass

[sugurism]

ah your red /green flag post was really good. How about doing the type of person they are most likely to be attracted to..and if they would fall first or harder?

FALLING DOWN. ୨ৎ jjk men: their type of person + fell first, or fell harder?ㅤheadcanons

featuring ♰ㅤmultiple. (choso, higuruma, megumi, nanami, gojo, geto, sukuna, toge, toji, yuji, yuta)

warning(s)! ♰ㅤNO PRONOUNS AND ANATOMY FOR READER. SFW (?) — toxic behavior ! possession ! some are delusional + yandere implied ! again, very much made based on personal opinions + i tried to write the characters off as canon as possible, but my favoritism will probably show ! sukuna (he's a warning of his own) ! violence + blood + death (mentions) ! cannibalism (mentions) ! obsession and possession ! not really all dark content but i will tag as so just to be sure, sukuna's part is insane ! mentions about marriage ! sadomasochism ! suggestive (sexual ideas about you) !

author’s note ♱ㅤthank you for everyone who's enjoying the red / beige / green flag post! you're all so sweet, it made my day, truly. im so happy, and this suggestion was so fun, anon. a small reminder so no one gets lost, though — please, read my rules before interacting. i don't take requests, but i consider suggestions. wrote this because i enjoyed the idea! it's not good, though. wrote this in a hurry and im currently working on other WIPs. don't know if i liked the result, tbh.

୨୧ CHOSO KAMO — attracted to someone's soul. fell harder.

the type of people choso likes is honestly pretty hard to describe. he is a romantic by nature, even if he is not aware of it. he really likes someone willing to cooperate with him and his family. anyone with an honest desire to protect him and his family and allow themselves to be protected as well.

with a body that was given to him (a dead body, even), he cares very little about physical appearance. a large part of him seeks to understand the essence of those he loves so that he can understand them without saying a word.

the moment he realized he fell in love with you was after a bloody battle. he was covered in blood and injuries while using his body's natural regeneration to recover. however, you forgot that ── you forgot his strength, you forgot his ability. you saw him as human as yourself, and by extension, fragile. bruised. mortal.

“choso! are you okay?” your warm hand touches his face, and choso's stomach twists at the thought of your delicate, perfect hands getting dirty because of his rotten blood. the blood of a cursed creature, neither human nor curse. and the way you look at him now: with affection, care. with the desire to want to protect him, as he would like to protect you.

and at this moment, he knows. what he feels is love. he feels like he's been struck by lightning, electrified to the last cell in his body. “y──yes. of course.”

god, he needs to marry you. now.

୨୧ HIROMI HIGURUMA — attracted to an opposed strength. fell first.

this is personally inspired by my view of higuruma (and inspired by oc), but it would be an amazing cliché if he fell in love with a prosecutor. it is not exactly a person, but rather a dynamic. hiromi's type of person is someone who can argue their convictions and has the determination to defend their point of view. the kind of person who could get him back on track. someone who would argue back if he were wrong.

the moment he realized he fell in love with you was a very simple day. nothing unusual. the weather a little dark, a late afternoon full of heavy clouds threatening to pour their rain on him and you. when you looked at him and smirked after “winning” an argument, he felt his own heart skip a beat in a way he never thought it could before.

he wonders if you can notice. it's obvious, how could you not? how could he not notice it earlier, he wonders. for some reason, the idea makes hiromi flinch. his mouth opens to retort, but he gives up. will saying something make it obvious how much he is in love with you? he should wait before saying something. he can do that. he can wait and wonder, will someday, your heart jump like his, when he is around you?

୨୧ MEGUMI FUSHIGURO — attracted to chaos. fell harder.

this may sound ironic, but considering megumi's deranged nature during fights requires equal and opposite strength. aka, someone as passionate and convinced as himself. someone who will turn and smile at him with blood on their hands as everything explode around you two.

the moment he realized he was in love with you was during a fight against a curse. a simple exorcism, in theory, but one where a creature suddenly appeared and was about to make him lunch. until its interruption, of course. shouting as you annihilated a curse so far from his level just to protect him ── a determination and raw fire in his eyes. it made you look like you could do anything, even kill gods.

it made his mouth go dry and his cheeks grow red. and megumi knew, it wasn't from adrenaline. it was something much, much stronger.

୨୧ KENTO NANAMI — attracted to calmness and stability. fell harder.

nanami already has a very chaotic presence in his life. satoru gojo's ironic giggles and crude jokes are terrifying. his senpai's irreverent behavior will haunt kento until the day he dies. therefore, nothing fairer than a partner who is calm, but not in the way he is calm ── cold, slightly arrogant, semi-distant from everything that is real. calm as water, in a serene and subtle, loving way. someone to share his burdens and allow himself to be vulnerable with.

the moment he realized he fell in love with you was — weird. stress gets to even the toughest of men, and someone under as much pressure as nanami, for all his composure, is still susceptible to it. the smallest things can make a stressed salaryman's day hell, like today.

nothing worked. absolutely everything backfired in the worst way possible. he spilled coffee on his jacket, had to ask for another one, where the barista got his order wrong, and in the end, he was almost late to start his work schedule. as he passed you through the jujutsu high campus (in order to avoid that tall, white ghost that terrifies his underclassmen to this day), you made him stop.

being an assistant teacher isn't exactly an easy job, considering the vast array of (potentially problematic) students that inhabit jujutsu schools. but you are always able to get them all on track without using a drop of harshness. there's a firmness to its sweetness, sure, but it's not intimidating. the brats even apologize to you honestly when they make mistakes.

when you see him, you wave gently and smile. and that smile makes kento exhale very slowly. the stress escaping him as if drained away. not entirely, but it was something. and nanami has a talent for spotting things that seem insignificant, but actually aren't.

oh, your smile. your smile always does this to him.

୨୧ SATORU GOJO — attracted to gentleness and honesty. fell first.

despite all the compliments satoru receives, he is completely sure that ninety-five percent of them are not at all sincere. it's like a poorly done bribe in an attempt to get the favor or appreciation of the strongest, because he will always be that. first the strongest sorcerer, then satoru. first a title and then a person. it's just how things work, there's no point complaining about them.

but a person who can honestly see him as a human being first and as who he is, beyond his title. a trustworthy and caring person, someone he can genuinely let his walls down with without it being a decision he regrets later.

the moment he realized he fell in love with you was on the verge of death. well, not at the brink of his death, but at yours. so many things could happen if he wasn't around, and they did. a fight with a curse user, and your obvious victory, but at what price? now he was waiting at the hospital anxiously, his fingers drumming the arm of the chair as he watched each person pass by.

every doctor, every nurse, every one of those miraculous people who could save your life. every second melted into its own agonizing torture, and satoru couldn't understand why. why was it so hard to calm down? he has been here before, so many times, with other friends in their deathbeds. it was agonizing all the same, but somehow, now it seemed worse.

when they finally said he could enter, satoru wasted no time. walking through the door and lowering her sunglasses towards him. you and your bruised body, lying on the bed and slowly turning to look at him. smiling through the pain, and his lips parting to murmur. “’toru. you're here.”

he sat down in the nearby chair and chuckled slightly, feeling his worries disappear. your voice, so gentle and truthful. so happy to see him — a friend, someone dear. not the strongest sorcerer, but him. “yeah. of course, i am.”

୨୧ SUGURU GETO. — attracted to passion. fell harder.

passion is one of the determining driving forces that makes humanity the sinister creatures that they are. passion for something can be good, like artists who created revolutionary works and opened the world's eyes to their problems. or, it can be terrible, as in geto's case: his passion is the cult and his new world.

he would like someone who is as passionate about something as he is about this philosophy itself. bonus points if the passion in question is the philosophy itself, but any number of other things might be acceptable.

it's difficult to describe a moment where suguru realizes he's in love with you, without defining a passion of yours. maybe it's a hobby like art, or maybe it's caring for a pet. it's necessary context, but whatever it is, he realizes your determination and ends up completely falling in love with it. with you.

be it watching you smiling while finishing a painting, petting your cat proudly, or anything that reveals you're determined to stick to your own principles. like he will stick to his.

୨୧ SUKUNA RYOMEN. — attracted to violence. fell harder.

i saw a post once, talking about how a sukuna's ideal type (assuming he had one) really is someone who wants him dead. it's hard to explain it, but he's definitely attracted to the more disturbing aspects of a person. in particular, a taste for violence and independence.

however, he might not like it so much if this independence became a challenge. he is willing to allow very extensive freedom to any human who interests him ── within certain limits. a king must not allow the absolute insubordination of those beneath him, after all.

he wants someone raw, and visceral. bonus points if there is a possibility that he will mentally destroy you and turn you into some kind of obedient pet. someone who was not made to be his, but could become, if he shaped you to be his and only his. don't kings enjoy having pets? he should, as well.

the moment he realizes he is in love with you is definitely a bloody scenario. you have just ripped apart a curse with your bare hands. watching you like a hawk, he sees you — covered in purple blood and panting. sukuna wonders if you would show this same voracity in other situations.

if he took you to bed, would you agree happily, spreading your legs at him and laying down obediently for him to do as he pleases? or perhaps you would try to stab him, or open his chest with your bare hands, as you did with that inferior little creature? ripping his heart out, looking him in the eyes while you take a bite of it.

he licks his lips at the thought.

୨୧ TOGE INUMAKI — attracted to spontaneous and joy. fell first.

toge does not have the ability to communicate in words normally, due to his technique's nature. he is fortunate to have access to other means of communication ── cellphones, notepads, even sign language. but something that attracts him is the perspective of someone who understands him well, and who has the energy to speak for him.

the moment he realizes he is in love with you is during a conversation. he, you and his friends are all walking and gathered together, discussing casual things. even with the hectic routine that you all have, it is very important to have these moments where you can act like normal people and not just wizards (he will bring sweets for panda, to make up for him not being able to come).

maki turns around, asking what he wants to eat. toge considers for a few moments. he honestly doesn't feel hungry tonight, but before he can respond in his ingredient language, you look at him for a second and help him communicate.

“hey, wait! i don’t think he’s hungry. right, toge?” he nods, a little surprised that you can understand before he even says anything. and while the sounds of chatter disappear around him, he focuses on you and your face. you, who always pays attention to him. you, who understands him.

୨୧ TOJI FUSHIGURO — attracted to a mix of chaotic and calmness. fell harder.

the loss of mamaguro affected toji in indescribable ways. a man should never be forced to bury the love of his life, but that's what happened. as a result, he returned to bad habits and destroyed his own life. so, his type ends up being something very difficult to define. i think he would still like someone like mamaguro, but not completely. the type of person who can be chaotic as well as calm. someone who doesn't necessarily fix him again, but someone with whom he can see companionship and honesty. kind of like partners in crime.

of course he appreciates your kindness, but he really lacks showing it back. a part of him stays awake at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering why you're so good to him — when toji is fully aware he's not good enough for you. generally, he wouldn't mind. he moves from woman to woman, relationship to relationship, simply for money. why is he caring now?

the moment he realized he was in love with you was actually during an argument. toji is someone who is extremely difficult to deal with because of his relaxed and self-serving nature ── plus, he purposely acts annoying during fights, but you never freak out. well, today you freaked out. and while you're swearing at him from the rooftops and pointing accusingly, he can only stop and feel himself melting. for some reason.

it doesn't make sense, of course it doesn't make sense. but your calmness contrasted by such abrasive anger is extremely attractive. it's more than attractive. he feels like gasoline and you feel like a match. and god, how he wants to burn.

୨୧ YUJI ITADORI — attracted to gentleness, honesty, and pride. fell harder.

yuji's destiny has always been marred by constant and untimely misfortunes. he loses friends and fights, he fails in moments where he should win, and the destruction upon him is both physical and mental. but there is hope. a kind person who genuinely understands him and can help him take the reins or share the burden when it all gets a bit too much. someone who watches bad movies with him and laughs at the terrible jokes he makes. someone who is willing to help him forget the horrors of the world for five minutes, or be rational when he is emotional.

the moment he realizes he's in love with you is when he leaves the cinema. a (very disgusting) sequel to his favorite horror film series just came out, and you were the only person who agreed to watch it with him. as he excitedly searches the bottom of the popcorn bucket for some leftovers, he notices you looking at him. "what?" he mumbles, crunching on the popcorn.

you laugh lightly, reaching out to wipe his crumb-covered cheek. “yuji, your face is all dirty! wait, i’ll get a napkin.” that little contact of your palm with his cheek is── scorching. there is no other way to describe it. the sensation is so sudden that as you move away to grab a napkin, he lets the practically empty bucket fall to the floor.

there was so much tenderness in your stare, so much care and appreaciation. even if it wasn't your cup of tea, even if the movie would be a horrible set-up for a date, was this a date? even with all that, you— enjoyed it. enjoyed spending time with him, being with him, caring for him.

oh god. he is so in love.

୨୧ YUTA OKKOTSU — attracted to roughness and sincerity. fell first.

honestly, yuta's type can be a mean person. he wouldn't admit it, because he doesn't know how to say it without sounding almost like a masochist, but someone dragging him around by the collar while he smiles like an obedient dog is a pretty attractive prospect. he feels that he could cooperate very well with someone who is the very opposite of him ── as strange as it may seem. his type of person isn't really specific, he kind of just wants the basics: honesty, loyalty, affection. but if he could choose? someone more raw and honest, for sure. someone who would set the world on fire.

the moment he realized he was in love with you was in a strange and awkward situation. after an argument with one of his friends, you were just going to turn around and walk away at a steady pace. he doesn't like conflict, guys ── it's very stressful and makes yuta extremely anxious ── so his reaction is to just kind of stand there looking like an idiot. but you grab him by the arm and pull him away. “don't just stand there, yuta. let's go.”

“y—yes. of course.”

despite this, he knows you wouldn't be rude to him, or wouldn't be rude without a good reason. still, the almost angry tone in your voice and the authority you exude. even though he knew that in terms of power levels he would be stronger? totally attractive. he can see himself following you back and forth and a kind of dynamic that works like that. kinder and somewhat socially anxious boyfriend, and you, a scorching flame that consumes everything around you.

he kinda wants to be consumed, anyway.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. thank you for reading! <3ㅤㅤthis was not proofread.

[f4llingtoyou]

please stop talking (min ho x reader)

“Please stop talking,” he mutters, and your mouth splits into a grin before he leans forward to capture it in a kiss.  

wc: 0.6k an: well i’m a little bit in love with him. another warmup while i work on this longer fic (friends to enemies to lovers anyone? 👀)! also, what a shame p2 is officially a wip (how much would you all hate me if i didn’t have them kiss...)

“And he had the nerve to use my caviar eye cream as hand lotion-”

You stifle a laugh, tilting your head to look at your boyfriend, who is currently wielding a jade roller in his right hand like a weapon. 

“The audacity!” you tease, and he whirls around to face you with an expression of exasperated relief. 

“Thank you! I knew-” he stops short when he sees the smile tugging at the corner of your lips and deadpans immediately. “You’re being sarcastic, aren’t you.”

This time you can’t control your laughter. “What gave it away?” 

He rolls his eyes, but you don’t miss the apparent affection in it. 

“I hate you,” he pouts, flopping down on the couch next to you with a sigh. “I can’t believe you’re being mean to me when you get to see this everyday for free,” he adds, gesturing to his face with a dramatic flourish of his hand.

You know he’s joking, but it still rings true. Sometimes you still can’t believe that you get to have him like this - when his guard is let down and he doesn’t feel like he has something to prove. You know you’re staring but now that he’s drawn your attention to his face, you’re overwhelmed by the urge to kiss him.

You push yourself up and swing one leg over his lap, relishing in the way he immediately flushes in surprise as you settle into a straddling position. 

“What- what are you doing?” he stutters, and you bite back a smile. Even just looking at him is enough to have your whole body erupting in butterflies.

“You’re right. You’re too pretty to be mean to,” you whisper, and you hear an audible thump as the jade roller slips out of his hand and onto the floor. It only takes you trailing one hand up his arm for him to duck his head, ears bright red. You never realized how easy it was to bring out this shy side of Min Ho, but you delight in your newfound power every chance you can get. 

“Have I ever told you how hot you are?” you question, settling one hand on his (unfairly broad) shoulders. His bottom lip is tugged between his teeth as he looks everywhere but you and you can’t help the shiver that runs up your spine at the sight.

Before you can continue, however, he’s pulling you closer by the waist until you’re only inches away from each other. When he opens his mouth to talk, you can feel his breath ghosting over your lips.

“Please stop talking,” he mutters, and your mouth splits into a grin before he leans forward to capture it in a kiss.

It’s slow and languid, like you have all the time in the world. His hands are warm and solid on your waist, sliding up beneath your shirt, and you melt into his touch like you’re starving for it. Threading one hand into his hair, you hear his breath hitch, and you drink it in greedily when his mouth parts slightly. He retaliates by swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, and when you pull back for air he’s staring at you with such open tenderness that your chest physically aches.

You love him so much that you’re not entirely sure how to communicate it sometimes. It’s sweet like strawberries in the summer and sunshine on your skin, but it’s also all-consuming like fire that catches in your veins. You hope he knows it - that you’ve never felt this way about anybody, and he deserves it in its entirety.

You can’t find the words, so instead you cup the back of his neck and lean down to kiss him again.

[crystalflygeo]

two long dragon tongues down your throat is better than one <3

So I was going to answer this like a normal ask just fangirling and screaming yes but then it kinda reminded me of this abandoned wip I had sitting in my docs and IT WAS TOO GOOD TO LET IT PASS.

So sorry this sat on my inbox so long csvajckwxbhaj I promise I am not ignoring :c <3 work is just killing me and also this got out of hand HAHA WHAT A SURPRISE

it was written before 4.2 dropped (maybe before 4.1 even I can't recall) so there are some little things here and there that are technically not canon anymore//hit

Neuvillette is absolutely fascinated.

The chief Justice of Fontaine has lived for many many years, seen, learned and experienced a lot of what the world has to offer, at least within the confines of his beloved hydro nation. Always a diligent man, carrying out his role and job at the court to perfection. Yet there was something he’d always… disregard.

Some more basic instincts pertaining to his true draconic nature.

He’d had enough in his plate as it was, practically managing the nation, keeping lady Furina both entertained and out of trouble, taking care of the Melusine, and a myriad of other duties in between. Truth be told, he was a tired old dragon not having much time or interest in the pursuit of a romantic companion.

So how did he end up here? Having a sample of the most sacred and valuable treasure of another dragon. Their mate.

Neuvillette is mesmerized at how your body reacts, jerking and trembling in unadulterated pleasure. Entranced a how your lips part with labored puffs and cute little sounds he didn’t know humans were capable of. High pitched whines, long drawn-out moans. Hypnotized by your eyes, usually so alert, so smart and playful… now glazed over, clouded with euphoria yet so raw and sincere in their emotions, begging him not to stop.  

And your scent… oh, the most decadent sinful scent he’d ever sensed. His pupils dilating and turning back to slits as his stare focused on your drooling pussy. His mouth dry, his fangs aching. He wanted to drown all of his senses in you.

Darkened fingers slide across your folds, a little colder than normal for a human which is why he’d always wore gloves, but you mewl appreciatively and gladly accept them. Clenching warm and wet around the digits.

And his breath catches.

“Hmmm… you’re doing so well, baobei.”

The Iudex’s eyes flicker momentarily at the other man, or should he say, other dragon. The former Geo Archon Morax, quite literally a mythical figure exuding an aura of power far greater than his current own. He is older, wiser, stronger, a deity once involved in the likes of the Archon war and the Cataclysm. In this little… exchange, Morax is certainly the dominant dragon, simply letting Neuvillette please you.

Morax holds you close to his chest, purring contently in a display of affection towards you and confidence towards the other male, as if he needed not to worry about another taking what is his. Neuvillette knows if he were to even remotely try something funny, he’d likely face the infamous wrath of the rock. Under normal circumstances, he’d find it a little insulting to be treated like this. If he had his full authority…

But these are far from normal circumstances.

And he’s currently rather… ah… enchanted by you.

“Curl your fingers towards you and pump slowly… she likes that.” Morax explains, voice deep and rich like syrup. His hands roam your shoulders and chest, massaging softly at your exposed skin while he plants kisses at your neck, occasionally nibbling of a few past marks from his own fangs.

Neuvillette does as said, experimentally, and is rewarded by a sultry moan and a buck of your hips towards him when you feel those fingers wiggle and rub at a spot deep inside you.

“Oh? Got it on your first try Chief Justice, why you may be a natural.” Morax chuckles.

The younger dragon appreciates the praise underneath the teasing lilt.

“Now, you may use your thumb to rub at that little pearl, it’s just begging for attention.” Your mate nuzzles against your cheek, his own thumbs rolling over your perked nipples. “Slowly, careful… she is very sensitive.” He adds with amusement.

He does so again, the pad of his cool finger brushing over your puffy little nub, the spark of pleasure is immediate and you toss your head back and squeal.

“Please please please…” You gasp out, breath shuddering, body trembling.

Tears gather at your eyes and roll down your cheeks, it’s so much it feels so good.

The younger dragon stops and blinks at you, his demeanor shifting suddenly. His hands slip over your thighs to you hips, as if trying to cradle you, hold you closer.

Morax’s eyes narrow if only a bit, curious but wary of Neuvillette’s sudden… protectiveness over you.

“You’re crying… have I hurt you? Are you ok?” He asks softly, attention solely on you.

Your heart could melt at that, who knew the ever serious and imposing Iudex could be so gentle? He truly reminds you of your mate sometimes.

You nod, catching your breath a moment. “I-I’m good. Feels good.” You mumble, cheeks heating up with the confession. Your body already lays bare and presented for him, in it’s most vulnerable. But to open up your feelings too… “People… cry when they’re happy too, you know?”

He seems to consider it for a moment, you can practically se the cogs turning in his head, it’s rather endearing, his brow twitches the same way Morax’s does when he’s pensive, perhaps it’s a dragon thing? “I have observed that before, yes, but why-”

“Emotions are powerful. When y-you feel… so much… you need a let out. Be it angry, sad, even happy… our tears leak out, like emotions overflowing.” You smile and shift a little, hiding your face towards the crook of your mate’s neck. “Weren’t you the one who said waters carry emotions?” You nuzzle there and Morax responds accordingly, his hands once again massaging and roaming your body, knowing you’re still pent up and the sudden stop was probably a little frustrating.

Golden fingers slide over your folds and sink in carefully, thumb circling your clit once more and you whimper. “That’s it, my love… I want you to feel good. We want you to enjoy, isn’t that right?”

Neuvillette straightens up a little to meet Morax’s gaze. Not challenging (not yet) but there is something.    

“Indeed.” He leans in to nuzzle at the other side of your neck, the soft skin there unmarked. Morax tenses his hold on you, a slight growl coming out from deep within his chest.

“Careful Chief Justice. Remember our agreement.”

“Of course. No kisses, no marks, no claiming. No strings attached.” His lavender eyes a dark purple now as he follows the soft slope of your jaw. “I wouldn’t dare break a contract with the deity that presides over them.” He chuckles. “I just want to test…”

Or rather taste. His draconic tongue laps up softly at your tears, his hands tease your nipples as if trying to get more reactions out of you and you whine, arching towards him as Morax’s hand keeps working at your core.

It’s so… intense. They are both so clear about their desires, slow and reverent, kind in their methods, but so assured in their dominance that they will get what they want.

And oh, to be desired by two dragons truly is something…

“Interesting…” He mumbles pulling back. “So sweet.”

Morax nips at your mating mark then and tilts your head to press your lips together, your mouth happily parts for him and you let out a muffled moan as that long split tongue slides down your throat. Your feet kick and your fingers claw at whatever is closer.

Half-lidded golden eyes stare down at you with satisfaction, blown with lust. A third finger sinking in on your sweet pussy, faster, your juices gushing obscenely around them.

That tongue teases and chokes you and more tears come out of your glazed eyes, eagerly caught by another one. Bodies pressed together, hands roaming, Morax’s tail curled around your ankle keeping you open, Neuvillette’s swaying after him with excitement, cool fingers pinching your nipples, massaging your breasts…

“Mmphff…!” You squeak, high pitched and tense as the pleasure tips you over the edge and your body locks up in a delicious powerful orgasm. You sob and whimper as they work you through it. Shuddering. You see stars. Can’t think only feel.   

Once it settles Morax pulls back and you melt against him, chest heaving, legs weak, muscles aching just a little, they continue to pamper you with affection and attention.

Your mate’s fingers retreat with an embarrassingly wet noise and much to your further mortification he brings them up to his face and that sinful slip tongue once again comes out this time to lick them clean.

Neuvillette stares transfixed.

You groan quietly, it’s obvious what he wants…

Morax on his part only lets out a short laugh, possessive instincts seemingly more at ease now. “Oh? Want to have a taste too? I can assure you will not be disappointed.”

Archons, the way those sharp eyes shift to you.

“O-okay…” Your voice is barely a whisper. “P-please be gentle though I j-just…”

Your breath catches in anticipation as Neuvillette’s hands rest on your inner thighs.

And then your dear mate pulls you back into a kiss.

[topherwrites]

FIC RECS: TOP GUN: MAVERICK - 2!

Okay, so there was shit I forgot in my year in review rec list. I posted it and a minimum of about 10 other fics immediately came to mind. so, part 2! I also didn't put many WIPs on the first one, but I think currently in progress fics should get some love too. I'll be marking them with an asterisk.

If I made a little comment about every single fic or series here, it would be inhumanely long, so I've refrained from doing so and have just put the summaries for each.

I hope that anyone who reads this list finds something that they love on it just as much as I do! Happy reading!

P.S. If I missed anyone, I'm sorry, there was a lot to sort through!

(P.S.S. reblog the fics you like, it makes writers happy.)

part 1, if you missed it.

SOME OF THESE ARE 18+, PLEASE HEED THE INDIVIDUAL WARNINGS!

JAKE SERESIN

Parking Lots and Matcha Lattes by @withahappyrefrain

In an attempt to get coffee, you meet a grade A asshole whose head you want to rip off. Meanwhile, Jake Seresin is pretty certain he just met his future wife in the parking lot of a coffee shop. AKA Jake Seresin likes mean women, pass it on.

The Hangman Special by @hangmanssunnies

On a night out with your friends at a fancy cocktail bar, you are just trying to keep your head down and ignore the girl that your ex cheated on you with. The night only seems like it's going to get worse when you are dared to kiss a stranger at the bar. However, it seems like the odds might finally be in your favor when you notice a familiar set of broad shoulders. If you can be convincing, you think you might just be able to get your brother's friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin to help you out with your little problem.

*she is both hellfire and holy water by @chemistryread

you should take it as a compliment, that I'm talking to everyone here but you.

Birds Away by @wombtotombx

You’d known Jake since you were kids, bonding over the shared experience of being military brats overseas. You were the perfect pair - he was reckless, you followed the rules; he didn’t care what others thought, you were a people-pleaser. You both became the best of the best in your field - he through sheer talent and skill, you from demonstrated grit and determination. For over two decades, everyone around you - parents, friends, even teachers - had assumed you’d both end up together, despite the fact that somehow, you never did. The Navy always had its way of keeping you two apart. Whatever possibilities there might have been, it was just never in the cards. Until you got to Fallon.

*The Backup by @ereardon

No strings attached sex never works, right? You and Jake Seresin have fallen into a bad pattern of seeking each other out for sex after dates go awry, but a year of being friends with benefits with Jake hasn’t been good for your dating life. Especially when the two of you are hiding your antics from your lifelong best friend Coyote and the rest of your tightly knit friend group. But what happens when you decide to take a step back and end the cycle with Jake to focus on your dating life? And why is it that all of the sudden Jake looks more irresistible than ever when you know he’s off limits? 

Take Care of Business by @honkytonk-hangman

The last time you met Lieutenant Jake Seresin, the war was still ongoing and you’d been in a floundering engagement. Back then you’d seen the possibility for more in his eyes, and now? Well, now you could explore it.

When Jake Met Polly by @/honkytonk-hangman

Jake likes to flirt with his Air Traffic Controller or Jake Seresin has never seen When Harry Met Sally.

How It's Done (Oneshot Version) by @/honkytonk-hangman

“Like me? I didn’t even think you wanted me as a squadmate, let alone–” you stop speaking, but only because Hangman cuts his eyes sharply away from you to glare out at the ocean. “Well, I do.” He says kind of indignantly, all things considered, and eyes you almost sourly. “You can just say no if you don’t–” “–No, I do!” you quickly cut him off, because at the end of it all, you’re a little too much of a hopeless romantic to let this moment pass you by.

Twenty-Five Going on Forty-Seven by @sehnsuchts-trunken

Flirting with the guy who fixed your car turns out to lead to much, much more when you find out he’s actually not just some random guy, but your new neighbour and father’s new best friend, Jake Seresin.

BRADLEY BRADSHAW

*fever pitch by @greenorangevioletgrass

Arsenal and USMNT captain Bradley Bradshaw attends the mononymous music sensation Y/N's concert with a friendship bracelet and a dream. Little did he know that they soon embark on an epic love story fit for pop royalty...

This Love Came Back to Me by @beyondthesefourwalls

You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you stopped before the two of you could even truly begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him into a kiss, he thought maybe it was the perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of you realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply just wanting it.

I Like Your Cinema by @sometimesanalice

Bradley wasn’t sure why you wanted to see the movie again, especially when neither one of you had particularly liked it the first time you’d seen it together. But when you’re tugging down his zipper, things start to make a lot more sense.

‘cause no one breaks my heart like you by @heartsofminds

“Last times always make him uneasy. He thinks that he should be used to it by now from his track record of being abandoned (willfully or “out of their control” situations alike). None of this should hurt him as deeply anymore.” or Bradley Bradshaw is terrified of commitment and he decides to stop being selfish (even though it’s hard to see).

the periphery by @youvebeenlivingfictional

You’d met Bradley a few times before the happy couple had announced their nuptials, and you’d always gotten a pretty good vibe from him. He was sweet, he was easy to talk to—and it helped that he was easy on the eyes. In fact, as soon as you’d been told that Bradley Bradshaw was going to be the Best Man, you were well on your way to having a crush on the guy.

*Hotter Than Texas by @tongue-like-a-razor

Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin’s baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley’s dream girl worst nightmare.

*flight risk by @ofstoriesandstardust

In which you and Rooster got married while at UVA for the military benefits. What started out as a mutually beneficial deal between friends years ago turns into a point of interest for Maverick, causing Rooster to have to haul you out to Fightertown to get him to shut up. While Maverick’s fussing over a marriage he didn’t know existed, Rooster’s focused on getting the ball rolling on divorce papers because really, the Navy does not need to be calling some poor girl from his college that he’s died in a horrendous accident. It’s proving to be more difficult than he expected, especially when Hangman and Phoenix take it upon themselves to encourage a friendship to become more. 

How You Play the Game by @roosterforme

Bradley always loved October because of the World Series. He never expected a mix-up with the ticket he won to bring something as spectacular as you into his life. But time is fleeting, and now baseball is the last thing on his mind.

*The Intern by @/roosterforme

You barely have a minute to yourself after graduating at the top of your Ivy League class before your father insists you find an internship. Your days of lounging by the pool and partying are numbered as he has an endless parade of his colleagues visiting the house. But one of them is familiar to you in a way that warms your skin just like the San Diego sun. And it turns out, Bradley Bradshaw may just have the answers to all your problems. And those answers might be waiting for you on a yacht in the Mediterranean Sea.

there was something 'bout you by @bussyslayer333

bradley bradshaw didn’t fall in love, especially not with uptight girls in his english lit class and especially not the ones being forced into tutoring him.

*Ultraviolence by @babyonboard

You and Bradley loved each other, and Jake was just your old friend from high school who you tried to pay no mind to. At least that's how it used to be.

All Too Well by @bradleyfuckingbradshaw

You’re at dinner with your boyfriend and some of his colleagues at a restaurant he chose when you look over the menu and realize there’s no vegetarian option, but he’s too busy with his friends to realize that. Bradley isn’t.

October 3rd Promptober by @familyvideostevie

you go to a tailgate with your friend bradley.

If You Met Me First by @tip-top-cloud-surfer

Rooster confessed to Echo that he was in love with her before the mission. One minor problem: she has a boyfriend.

Home for the Holidays by @mothdruid

Bradley might have lied about having a girlfriend. His best friend, you, decide to help him out and go home for the holidays with him. As the trip unfolds, so does your and Bradley’s feelings for one another.

BOB FLOYD

*I bet this would look beautiful on film by @coridotmp3

Honey desperately needs a photographer, and Bob desperately needs a break.

Robert from Next Door by @attapullman

You've lucked out with the perfect neighbor, a kind and overly helpful WSO. He puts up Christmas lights, lends his lawn mower, and grabs your morning paper. But what happens when he's out of peppermint tea one night?

If Only the Neighbors Knew by @/attapullman

A month of stolen kisses culminates in Robert hosting the HOA meeting and getting you on his couch. The ladies of the neighborhood may make him blush, but only you can make your sweet neighbor weak in the knees.

*Golden Hour by @/ereardon

Willow, Georgia. Barely even a town, just a speck on a map that you tried to wipe off, mistaking it for a crumb. You’re the outsider: a fancy New York doctor, fresh out of a failed engagement, with zero primary care experience. You’re also the new town doctor, taking over for a recent retiree who was beloved. His son, Bob Floyd, is the other physician at the practice, and takes an immediate dislike to you. But you were looking for a fresh start, and Willow doesn’t seem all that bad if you can get past the fact that there's only one restaurant in town. It helps that you've caught the eye of Bradley Bradshaw, the town attorney, despite the fact that you vowed to take a break from dating. How long until you start to make friends in a town where social circles have been set in stone since elementary school? And what will it take to make Bob Floyd see you’re not as bad as he wants to believe you are?

Ruin the Friendship by @withahappyrefrain

The night before Bob leaves for Boot Camp, he’s learned no one has gone down on his best friend. He’s determined to fix that.

International Bob Floyd Fucks Month Masterlist

a january writing event hosted by @/attapullman

Bob from Stats by @/attapullman

College is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is.

[wolfjackle-creates]

Answer My Call Chapter 3 part 1

Happy WIP Wednesday! Answer My Call won by all one one vote last week. I was a bit nervous since I'm starting a new POV and I wasn't sure if I wanted to write from Tucker's POV or Tim's, but I settled on Tucker because it would let me dive into the action a bit sooner.

Story Summary: Danny's missing. The GIW have taken over Amity. Jazz, Tucker, and Sam are under constant surveillance and have been scattered across the country.

When Jazz's messages to Danny go to the wrong number, Red Hood decides to step in.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.6k

-----

Tucker was alone in his dorm room working on homework. His desk was in the corner in a way that meant his computer screen faced the wall. It meant he had barely three feet of space to sit in, but after everything that had happened, he couldn’t let anyone sneak up behind him to spy on his work.

His roommate hated him for it because it took up so much extra space in their small room, but he was never around anyway, so Tucker didn’t really care what he thought.

He jumped when a loud knocking sounded on his door.

“Coming!” he called out as he took the time to save everything he had open and close all programs. He slammed it shut and squeezed out of his chair, half running to the door. “Sorry ‘bout the wait. Tyler isn’t here right now, I think he said something about spending time with Liz?”

Then he actually looked at the people at his door. The one was a broad boy wearing a spiked leather jacket over jeans. The other had a bulky sweatshirt on and a baseball cap. His face was shadowed as he was looking down at a tablet, typing away.

The bigger one was grinning at him. “You’re Tucker, right? We’re here to see you, not Tyler.”

Tucker blinked at them. “Why?” he asked, confused. People had given up on being friendly with him weeks ago.

The boy with the tablet huffed. “We’re here to invite you to our club.”

Tucker looked between them in confusion. “What?”

Tablet guy still didn’t look up. “We heard you like ghosts. We’re the officers of the student horror club and wanted to offer you a spot. Mind letting us in so we can tell you about it?”

Tucker rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m not interested in joining any clubs right now. Thanks, but no thanks.” He went to shut the door, but leather jacket stuck out his foot, keeping it from shutting.

“Just hear us out. We think you’d be perfect for it as an expert on ghosts.”

Tucker clenched his fists to hide their shaking. What did they know? Who sent them? He glared. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tablet boy raised his head slightly, revealing a domino mask covering his eyes. He grinned, more a baring of teeth than anything. In a tone just loud enough to be heard, he said, “One of my associates is currently in Boston. I decided to come here instead.” In a normal ton he added, “Let me tell you about the horror club.”

Tucker’s mouth fell open. How? Boston? What had Jazz done? His eyes flitted down the hallway. But they were blocking his path and he wouldn’t be able to get past them. Dumbly, he stepped back, opening the door further.

Leather jacket grinned at him. “Thanks, dude,” he said.

Behind them, Tucker shut the door. His hand fell to his pocket where a lipstick laser was hidden.

Tablet boy was already pulling the blinds down over the window. When done, he handed his tablet to Tucker. It was open to a message that said: “We’re on your side. Turn off your devices. I’m going to set off a EMP and signal jammer.”

Tucker nodded and handed the tablet back.

Leather Jacket cleared his throat. “So, with the horror club, we meet once a week…”

Tucker only half-listened to his spiel. He used his phone to send a coded warning to Dani before turning it off. Then he went through his belongings and did the same to every laptop, PDA, tablet, and gaming system. If he turned on a ghostly recording device hidden inside an action figure, however, no one would know.

As soon as he was done, he nodded to Tablet Guy who pulled out a black cube from his backpack and pressed a button. The he pulled out another device and turned that on as well.

“That’s enough, Kon,” he said, pulling off his cap.

Leather Jacket—Kon?—grinned. “What, you don’t want to hear about my favorite horror movie, Rob?”

“I introduced you to your favorite horror movie. I know it as well as you do.”

Kon just laughed. Then he unzipped his jacket, revealing a blue outfit with Superman’s “S” on it.

“Holy shit,” breathed Tucker. What had Jazz done?

Tablet guy followed, pulling off his cap and removing his hoodie, revealing a red costume with a gold bird medallion in the center of his chest. “Nice to meet you, Tucker. I’m Red Robin, and this is Superboy. I’ve got some questions for you.”

Tucker’s eyes jumped between the two. “Holy shit,” he repeated.

Superboy laughed. “Didn’t expect to see us?”

Tucker could only shake his head. “You said Boston?” he asked.

“Red Hood is with Jazz as we speak. She asked for our help in rescuing Danny. We agreed.”

Tucker tensed. He was lying. They’d talked about reaching out to the Justice League dozens of times, but had decided they couldn’t be trusted. Jazz wouldn’t have gone to them. He reached into his pocked and pulled out the lipstick.

Both heroes tensed, though their wariness turned to confusion when they saw he only had a small lipstick tube.

Good, let them underestimate him. “Jazz wouldn’t go to the Justice League. We agreed it wasn’t safe. Why are you really here?”

Red Robin grinned at him and held up his hands. “All right, you’re right. I simplified for time’s sake. Jazz has been sending messages to a phone number she thought belonged to her brother Danny. But really, they were going to Red Hood. He’d been getting them for ages now, but was…out of town. As soon as he got back, he began looking into Amity and the GIW. When he couldn’t find anything, he brought me in on the case. When that still didn’t work, we called Jazz back. She decided to take a chance on us since Red Hood doesn’t work with the government. And, honestly, I’ve done quite a bit outside the law, too, even if I’m not as public about it.”

Tucker’s grip on the lipstick tightened and he stuck his nail under the cap, ready to flick it off at a moment’s notice. “Prove it.”

Red Robin pulled up his tablet again and tapped a few places. An audio recording started to play.

Tucker stopped breathing when he recognized Jazz’s voice. He closed his eyes and just listened. When he heard her demand a picture and the pose she asked for, he huffed out a laugh.

The recording ended and he slid the lipstick back into his pocket and wiped at his eyes.

“Okay, I believe you. What’s the plan?”

“Right now we want to make sure you, Jazz, and Sam are safe and find out as much information as we can.”

Tucker nodded. “I’m not as closely watched as Jazz. The school keeps close track of us students and the Guys in White rely on their records. Though they do have an agent stationed in admin who checks up on me at least once a week. I don’t keep my most sensitive belongings in this dorm as it’s searched every other week.”

Red Robin grinned at him. It sent shivers down Tucker’s back. “Does that mean your real stuff is kept somewhere else?”

Tucker smirked. “Of course. Cover yourselves back up; we need to go.”

Red Robin did something with his jammer and EMP and then began talking excitedly about the horror club again. “So glad you’ve agreed to come to our next meeting, Tucker! We’ve been trying to build the club.”

Superboy winked at him. “What do you say we get to know each other a bit before then? Want to come play video games with us?”

Tucker bit his lip and looked towards his desk and laptop as if he were undecided. “I should get back to my homework…”

“Oh, come on, it’ll still be there tomorrow,” said Red Robin. “Let’s go.” He looked back down at his tablet and headed towards the door, grabbing Tucker’s hand as he did.

Tucker looked over his shoulder one last time, but let himself be pulled along. They kept conversation light as they exited the building. Red Robin was an expert at angling his baseball cap to hide his masked face from every camera they passed.

Would he be willing to teach Tucker how to do that?

Once outside, Tucker took the lead. One of the first things he’d done after he’d been enrolled was memorize blueprints for every building on campus. On top of that, he’d made himself a good dozen different IDs. Three of those were copies of other students’. Those students he kept close track of to make sure their records didn’t show them in two places at once. Other ones belonged to various faculty and staff members. But his pride and joy was the one that belonged to Gabriel Carter. Gabriel was a janitor at the Academy and so could access any building. Gabriel also didn’t exist.

It was Gabriel’s ID that got them access to the basement level of one of the buildings. Hidden deep in the building was a set of rooms currently not in use. And in one of those rooms was a closet.

Tucker had built the locks on the door himself and, even having all the keys and codes, it took five minutes to get in.

He smirked when Red Robin himself let out a gasp of surprise at his set up.

-----

Hope you enjoyed!

Now, how did Kon get involved? Easy. Tim used the zeta tube from the cave to Titans Tower. Kon happened to be there. When Tim said he was working a case with Red Hood, the guy who tried to kill him once, Kon insisted on coming along. I debated having other members of the Young Justice, but I'm actually trying to keep character counts down for this one, so...

Check out the subscription post if you want a notification when I update!

[casdeans-pie]

Did somebody say snippet from my current wip?? Misuse of prayer anyone????? I just wish I could get to the part where Cas says, "I really don't think you want to be doing this with your brother in the room." because Dean is inadvertently doing the angel equivalent of whispering intimately straight into Cas's ear. Angels are so goddamn weird and I cannot wait to write this whole thing.

---------

Boredom itched under Dean's skin. He hadn't even registered most of what he'd read on the last few pages, just turned over onto a new one every minute or so. His head sat heavy in his hand, elbow planted onto the table next to his book, and he had to resist the urge to yawn as he turned another page.

Dean glanced up at Sam, sat further down the table, with his nose pressed down close to his own book. If Dean had any hopes that Sam might be struggling to concentrate as much as him, he didn't see any evidence of it.

Cas, of course, looked as interested as he always did. He sat directly opposite Dean reading a huge book with an intensity in his expression that would be the same whether he was reading apocalyptic scriptures or nursery rhymes. A fond warmth settled in his chest.

Dean tried to follow their example and return to his own research, but after only a few minutes his leg began to bounce.

Eventually his mind wondered to the book that he'd been writing himself. It had been difficult to think of how he could write a book on Angels and get the information that he needed out of Cas without telling him about it. But a silent room, with all of Cas's focused attention on something else, felt like a perfect opportunity to get some material on prayer...

Dean tried to clear his mind (easy enough, not like he'd been paying any attention to his book) and had to resist the urge to physically clear his throat before starting.

"Cas," Dean thought, trying to make it loud inside his own head.

Dean peeked up, but Cas had had no reaction. Dude didn't even blink.

Huh.

Either his poker face is just that good, or it hadn't worked.

Thinking it loudly wasn't the same as praying, Dean supposed.

He breathed out slowly and stared at Cas, drinking in every detail of him. Praying meant faith, right? He had that. He absolutely had that. More fucking faith in Cas than anyone in the whole world.

"Cas..." slipped out of Dean's mind in a whisper, a plea, a declaration of that unwavering faith.

Cas jumped so violently that his knees slammed against the underside of the table. His eyes were opened wide and his breath came out in fast gasps like he couldn't catch it.

"Cas? You okay?" Sam called over, concern pinching his eyebrows together.

Cas stared intensely at Dean and he didn't even look away as he replied, "Fine, thank you, Sam. I- uh- I read something shocking in this book."

Sam looked unconvinced and switched his attention to Dean.

Dean shrugged in a you know what Cas is like way, and eventually Sam returned to his book with a small shake of his head.

So his prayer definitely worked. That much felt obvious.

Now he just had to do it again.

"Cas..." Dean prayed again.

This time Cas's eyes opened wider but he didn't react otherwise.

"Cas, blink twice if you can hear me..."

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Lottie; a pocketful of Kons.

Bruce went to make a call and Dick went to call off work, because Tim getting a Pocket of not-Superman is concerning and going to require some all-hands-on-deck Bat-investigation, and Alfred went to get lunch started, because he’s a better man than any of them and a true hero to the people. 

And Tim is currently sitting in the cave with a Pocket who still refuses to take off the cape, and since it's no masks in the manor, he's kind of stuck down here for now. 

He wonders who this guy actually is, because while there are plenty of people out there who can shapeshift or whatever, a Pocket is supposed to reflect who they actually are. It's incredibly, incredibly rare for a Pocket to shapeshift at all, in fact, unless they're from a society or species where it's common from birth. Like–Martian Pockets shapeshift, apparently. 

Do they show up shapeshifted, though? And then stay that way? Because that part–that part seems weird. Like, definitely weird. 

Tim actually didn't even know he liked guys, but he hasn't even had time to deal with that weird internal realization because the specific guy that showed up is Superman. Like, not actually Superman, according to Bruce, and Bruce is usually right about these things, but . . . 

Well, then who is he? 

“You don’t make any sense,” Tim says, eyeing his Pocket. “Why do you look like Superman?” 

“Rob!” his Pocket chirps happily, grinning up at him from his seat at the Pocket-sized tea table with a Pocket-sized plate of Alfred’s Pocket-sized cookies and a Pocket-sized rack of Pocket-sized clothes he is Pocket-sized ignoring. He doesn’t seem to like the tea and absolutely hates the clothes, but he definitely likes the cookies. 

Tim probably should hurry up and name him, if only because he clearly does care about names and Tim doesn't want to upset him again. But also, it’s making him crazy to have a mystery right here and be completely unable to solve it. It’s not as if he can question a Pocket, especially not a brand-new one that only knows his name and his codename, and there’s not exactly any evidence to follow or anything, so . . . 

So he doesn’t know, exactly. 

Maybe he should just focus on what’s in front of him right now. Name his Pocket, get him settled in, talk him into some glasses. Maybe find him some more cookies, if the opportunity arises. 

He just–doesn’t know what to do long-term here, he guesses. Taking home a full-grown adult Pocket isn’t exactly going to thrill his dad, for starters, especially because said adult is a man and Tim didn’t even know he wasn’t straight, much less ever tell him he wasn’t straight. And that’s ignoring how badly getting his Pocket out of the cape is going. And he just . . . he doesn’t know. 

“I don’t even know what to name you,” he groans. “I don’t know who you are. I was supposed to know who my Pocket came from before I had to name them!” 

His Pocket frowns, looking hurt. Tim immediately feels like an asshole. A Pocket turning up before you meet your soulmate is supposed to be a good thing, he knows. That’s what everybody says. It means the bond’s going to be stronger. 

At least Superman he’s actually met a couple times. He knows absolutely nothing about whoever his Pocket actually is. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he tries, still feeling like an asshole. “I just–I don’t even know what you’re like. I want to think of a good name for you."

His Pocket looks a little mollified, but still smaller and quieter than he was acting before. Tim’s not sure if that’s because he sucks at this or because Bruce and Dick and Alfred are gone and he has fewer people to show off for. Whoever his Pocket is, they’re definitely a show-off. Just–very definitely. 

Opposites attract, Tim guesses. The only time he shows off is when he’s trying to draw fire or provide a distraction.

He really expected to get to know his soulmate for a while before a Pocket ever showed up, assuming he ever got a Pocket at all. Probably a pretty long while, given how bad he is at getting close to people. A Pocket showing up out of nowhere before he’s even met the person they came from, when he has no idea who that person even is . . . 

Well, that’s not something he’s planned for. Or been ready for. Or . . . 

He wonders how close they’re going to be, if his Pocket showed up this early. Even if he walked upstairs right now and found his soulmate delivering a package at the door or something, which seems unlikely, it’s just–early. 

Tim doesn’t know why he’d get a soulmate bond that strong. Like–why would he? 

People don’t like him enough to have a bond like that with him. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, and looks away from the Pocket of someone who doesn’t even know him yet, much less care that he exists. 

“Rob?” his Pocket says, sounding concerned. Tim feels like an idiot and just–tries to concentrate on thinking of names. “S” ones, maybe. “S” is a place to start, no matter who his Pocket actually is. His best operating theory right now is Supergirl, actually, because she does have shapeshifting powers, doesn’t she? And also some identity issues, according to Bruce. And showing up as Superman actually might make sense for a Pocket that’d come from her, given she was partially based off him when she was created, so maybe . . . 

“What about ‘Shift’ or ‘Shape’?” he suggests, looking back to his Pocket, who immediately makes a face at both ideas. “Alright, gonna take that as a no. Um . . . ‘Steel’? ‘Synapse’? I don’t know, ‘Stunt’?” 

His Pocket keeps fucking pulling stunts, so it’s tempting, anyway. Or . . . her personality? If he/she is Supergirl, he means. 

Does Supergirl actually have a gender identity, come to think? Is that a thing for shapeshifting protoplasmic lifeforms? 

Hm. Worth looking into, maybe. 

Tim’s Pocket looks considering about “Stunt”, but Tim’s interrupted from gauging his (or her) full reaction by Dick coming back down the stairs. He’s not in costume anymore, and has Red’s wheelchair cupped in one hand and Star floating over his opposite shoulder. Tim’s Pocket doesn’t seem interested in Dick’s arrival, but he chirps excitedly at the sight of Red and Star. Red clicks back and Star croons, flying over to hug him. He grins delightedly and hugs her back, nuzzling into her ridiculous amount of hair until he practically disappears in it. 

“Any luck on the name?” Dick asks as he sets Red down next to the table and she wheels over to Tim’s Pocket too and punches him lightly in the hip before getting a hug of her own. 

“He’s taking ‘Stunt’ under consideration, I think, though all things considered maybe I should’ve gone with ‘Stud’,” Tim says dryly, watching his Pocket take far too much pleasure in trying to hug Star and Red both at once while they avoid actually touching each other. 

“Oh, buddy,” Dick says with absolute pity as Tim’s Pocket lights up in absolute glee. 

“. . . fuck,” Tim realizes in dread, putting a hand over his face. Dick just pats his shoulder sympathetically. 

“Rob! Tim! Tim-Rob!” his Pocket crows happily, abandoning Star and Red to zip over to him and hug him instead. Or try to, anyway. Mostly he ends up smushed against his face and chattering in thrilled Pocket talk as he tries to pull Tim’s hand down. Tim refuses to let him. He’s not going to acknowledge this problem. He’s going to ignore this problem. This problem does not exist as long as he’s safe behind his hand. 

Unfortunately, Stud has super-strength, so that’s kind of a doomed effort there. 

Tim has no idea how he’s supposed to explain this to Bruce. 

[pimosworld]

Never have I ever

Kinktober Prompt-Voyeurism,Squirting,Polyamory

Pairing -Will Miller x f!reader x Tf boys x f!reader

Summary-You and the boys play a game and things take an interesting turn.

CW-18+,MDNI,NSFW, Voyuerism, Smut, Fluff, Rough sex, Dom Will, mentions of anal, mentions of MM dynamics, restraints, mentions of safe word but no use, established poly relationship, Unprotected PIV, cream pie, squirting, aftercare. Appropriate discussion of past relationships.

WC-4K

A/N- Set in the story of us verse but can be read as a stand alone. Reader is not race coded, no use of Y/N. This is my current WIP procrastination, when lightning strikes you must write. My first kinktober prompt. I just reached 400 followers and this is 4000 words so I’m gonna take this as my follower celebration as well.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

“Ben, are we seriously playing this?” The five of you are situated comfortably in your usual spots in the living room and somehow the younger Miller has convinced you all to ‘make things more interesting’ in his words. 

  “I’m too old for this.” Frankie mumbles into his beer as he downs the rest. 

  “We know…that doesn’t mean you’re getting out of it.” You chuckle briefly as Santi’s hand skirts higher up your thigh under the blanket. He’s been slowly torturing you as you relaxed on the couch, all of you decompressing and going over your week. It was a new ritual to discuss the ins and outs of your time apart but it seemed Ben was growing tired of the normal mostly mundane conversation.

  “Hands up let’s go.” The impatient Miller barks from his spot on the floor, too big to fit anywhere else and you're always unsure of why Will won’t just get a bigger couch. You suggested a few months ago that it would be nice for all of you to be able to relax together. He agreed but evidently it takes time to find the perfect one. 

  Everyone reluctantly puts their hands up, Santiago opting for one hand because he can’t pry his other from the warmth of you under the blanket. The other part of you knows he’ll probably lose this game and he doesn’t feel like putting too much effort into revealing how much of a slut he was before he pulled his head out of his ass and finally told you how he felt. 

  “Both hands, Pope.” Frankie chides from beside you and Santi squeezes your thigh before drawing his hand out and flipping him off. 

  This game was an odd choice, almost completely out of left field. The five of you knew almost everything there was to know about each other. Although you’re sure the boys know a lot more about their respective sexual escapades than they know about yours. Nothing among these men is ever done by accident, you’re just waiting to see the angle that’s being played so you don’t end up trapped. The confused and amused looks on the others' faces has you a little at ease since it seems this is a solo mission for Ben and those didn’t always go as planned. 

  “I’ll start since it was my idea.” Will sends you a look from across the room as to say of course and you’re acutely aware that he hasn’t let out one protest or sign of stopping this game. You’re almost positive it’ll come down to you both in the end and he knows it judging by the smug look on his face. 

  “Never have I ever faked an orgasm.” You roll your eyes as you put one finger down. Maybe you were going to lose after all. The chuckles from the others don’t help your embarrassment, even though you should hardly blame yourself. It doesn’t need to be clarified that since you’d been with all of them there was no need to fake it anymore, but it was definitely known by all that you had to in the past an ungodly amount of times. 

  You brave a look up from the carpet that you’d all but memorized as you see Ben's wide tooth grinning at Frankie beside you. You look over just in time to see Frankie put his finger down as the redness creeps up his neck. He’s staring daggers at the younger Miller and Santi’s chuckles send vibrations through your body as you lean into him. 

  “How did she not know?” You ask him in the sweetest tone, no judgment behind it, just genuine curiosity. 

  He scrubbed his hand over his jaw, his calloused fingers digging into the patchy part of his beard. No doubt thinking how long this night will be if we have to explain each finger down,but of course that’s always Ben’s plan. He wants to draw this out for as long as he can. 

  “I pulled out and spit on her back.” He says it so sheepishly you almost feel bad for him. An image flashes in your mind and you make the mistake of looking over at Will who is doing his best to not completely lose it. You cup your mouth trying to suppress the giggle but it’s far too late. 

  “Laugh it up honey.” The funniest part is how could anyone not be thoroughly enjoying themselves when Francisco Morales is behind the wheel, but you figure it’s their loss. 

  You wrack your brain for something you’ve never done that they may have.Blowjob,one night stand,sent a nude photo,had sex in public…those are all out. 

  Will interrupts your thoughts as he speaks from the loveseat. “Never have I ever had a threesome.” He just saved you in more ways than one as you see Benny and Frankie glance at each other as they put a finger down. Santi tsks beside you and you don’t even have to look over to see he did as well. 

  You miss the look Santi shoots Frankie above your head as he makes a mental note. Ben may have been a thorn in his side at times but right now he could kiss the ground he walked on. Unbeknownst to you this has turned into a silent competition of memorizing everything you’ve never done,each time you don’t put a finger down he clocks one of them. He doesn’t even care that he’s about to lose as the room thrums with sexual tension. 

  As you predicted you and Will have the most fingers left. You have three,Will has two and Benny has one that he’s been holding onto for dear life. Santi and Frankie had long been out, Santi rejoins the group after refreshing your drinks. He knew he hasn't missed anything since it was getting harder to think of things as the game went on. 

  You need to get Ben out and you were sure this next question would. If it also took one down for Will then you would just be getting lucky you guessed. 

  “Never have I ever done anal.” Santi stifles a moan next you as Frankie not so subtly adjusts the growing bulge in his jeans. You were so focused on winning that you have no idea how thin of a thread they were holding onto. Frankie’s been fighting the mental image of checking each thing off your list one by one. Santiago isn’t faring much better not having realized how much innocence was still lying dormant in you. 

  Ben concedes as he grabs the pillow he was using on the floor, your brace for the moment that he decides to toss it at you only for him to place it gingerly in his lap. 

  “Welcome to the club.” Frankie mutters under his breath as you stare down Will who now has one finger up…interesting. 

  “Never have I ever been tied up.” Fuck

  You put a finger down and wait for the responses that eventually never come. Will was playing dirty, he knows for a fact you’ve been tied up. It had only been a week since he asked you if you wanted to try it. 

  This was it,you had to go for the kill…but how bad did you want to win? You know there’s only one way but it will certainly come at a cost. In the end the cost may be worth it. 

  You raise up on the couch sitting back on your heels,proudly displaying the two fingers you have left. You can’t chance a look at anyone besides Will or you might chicken out. Frankie’s fingers grip nervously at the blanket that’s fallen next to you. He wants to reach out and touch you, the only sound over your beating heart is the rustling of the couch cushions as Santi leans forward just into your peripheral vision. Breath in…Breathe out 3,2,1. 

  “Never have I ever made someone squirt.” You say it so fast they almost don’t catch it…almost.

  “Ha…he’s never made anyone…” Ben is silenced mid sentence as Will closes his fist and leans back into the seat. He doesn’t really care that he’s lost, in reality he’s actually won this game. Judging by the shocked looks on their faces or Ben’s mouth hanging agape. You didn’t fully think this through, your brain was clouded with the thrill of winning. 

  He almost feels bad for you as he says the momentary look of triumph quickly turns into one of defeat. It’s written all over your face as the realization sets in that you’ve completely fucked yourself, you would be a horrible poker player because you just revealed all your cards. If this were a lion's den you were a fresh piece of meat. 

  A drop of sweat trickles down your back as you lower your hand slowly to place it on your thigh. The room is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. 

  “Prove it.” Santi’s voice is so close to your ear you nearly jump out of your skin. 

  Will tilts his head at you as if to challenge you. This game was far from over and you’d be damned if you were going to lose. You stand from the couch and walk over to him. Four sets of eyes watching your every move as you grab his hand and pull him to stand. You raise your eyebrows as an acceptance to his challenge and he starts to lead you away from them toward the hallway. You sense no movement behind you as you make your way to his bedroom. 

  “You boys coming or not?”  A small stampede sounds behind you and you chuckle picturing them trying not to trample each other as their bodies catch up with their feet, no doubt all thought having left their brains. 

  ****

  Santi’s lost count, has it been five or six times Will has brought you to the edge only to pull away and deny you what you so desperately want and need. He’s no stranger to this game but he doesn’t think he’s ever been this turned on by it. Watching from a whole different viewpoint. Being a spectator is thrilling and watching you writhe and chase his touch after each denial makes his cock achingly hard in his jeans. 

  Frankie’s not doing much better as he tries to follow Will's rules he laid out before starting. If you want me to show you then you don’t touch her unless I tell you to. The captain in him didn’t come out often anymore but when it did he commanded respect. 

  Ben stares on with excitement and curiosity written all over his face. He watches as you grip the sheets, your chest heaving as sweat beads down your forehead. Will told you not to touch yourself and Ben didn’t know you could be so obedient. 

  Wills got you so on edge you can’t be shy anymore about the way you beg for him and plead for him to let you come. A far cry from when you first entered the bedroom. 

  He had slowly undressed you and instructed you to lay flat on the bed. He crawled over your body kissing and biting his way up your thighs and your stomach. His hand caressed your breast as his tongue laved over the other. It was too much and not enough as your eyes met the others standing in the room. They’d all seen you in this position before but something about them watching suddenly has you feeling vulnerable. 

  “Look at me.” He leaned in and kissed you, deep and passionate as his hand gripped your waist and his tongue prodded your mouth. An expert distraction to bring you back to the moment. 

  “It’s just me and you.” It was the last thing he said to you before he methodically took you apart right before their eyes. You knew he was taking his time, putting on a show. He wasn’t simply going to make you squirt and move on like some conquest. He wanted to draw this out, show them what he was capable of. 

  He started with his mouth as his breath ghosted over your slick folds. He looked up at you through hooded lids one more time to give you a chance to back out, when you gave no indication of wanting to stop he dragged his tongue expertly through your slit. Parting it with his thumb as he dove in circling your clit. You were a goner from the beginning as he brought you to the first cliff only to leave you hanging. You cried out his name in desperation as he dipped two fingers in, pumping in and out as he bit down on your thigh. The pleasure and pain mixed in with you on display had your nerves alight. 

  With each denied release you can feel the pressure building in your core, it’s so close you can taste it on the tip of your tongue. You can taste yourself as he leans over you again kissing you through your whimpers as your body shakes beneath him. 

  “Will please…” Your sweet voice begging is like music to their ears. Frankie would give you whatever you want if you asked him but Will doesn’t budge. 

  “Please what sweetheart…I can’t read your mind.” 

  Son of a bitch he’s trying to kill you. 

  For all his resolve Santiago can’t help but be impressed. Even if this sudden burst of confidence is all a show for them he has to admit he would’ve caved by now and just went straight for the finale. 

  You’re not even sure when Ben and Frankie sat on the bed leaning against the headboard beside you, or when Santi sat at the end to have a perfect view of your pussy clenching around nothing as your arousal drips onto the sheets below. 

  “Please Will, I need you inside me…I need to come please.” You’re practically crying as he shushes you, his cock leaking precum on your stomach as it twitches in anticipation. He’s not going to be able to last much longer at this rate either. 

  He leans back on his heels as he grips the base of his cock, slapping your clit and dragging it through your slick as he slowly prods your entrance. The noise you make almost has him buckling as you sigh into it finally having what you want. 

  He starts at a slow pace as he wraps your legs around his waist, he can see the way your face contorts with every slap of his hips against yours. You can feel every vein and ridge as the lude sounds of your sweat and slick echo in the room. 

  You can’t see it from where you are but Frankie’s itching to touch you, desperately wanting to break the rule as he watches you try not to touch yourself. 

  Ben is mesmerized as he watches your breasts bounce with every thrust of Will's hips, he wants to latch onto you and bite down until you're screaming his name, but he knows his brother would do more than scold him if he so much as tried to touch you right now. 

  Santi’s waiting…waiting for any sign or movement as to how he does it. He’s thoroughly enjoying himself but he’s seen nothing new, nothing he hasn’t done to you a dozen times over. Any indication as to what Will has managed to do before the rest of them. It’s driving him a little mad as he watches you beg for it like you’ve never had it before. 

  You can feel the tension building as Will picks up his pace, he shifts your legs to either side of his head as he punches the air out of your lungs with every thrust. He brings his thumb down rubbing fast circles on your clit as you try to grab his wrist. That all too familiar feeling has you keen and arch your back. “Grab her hands.” Frankie moves before you can think, your wrists gripped tightly in one of his palms above your head. 

  “Wait…please.” He chuckles under his breath as his chest heaves with the sharp movements. Not mere seconds ago you were begging to come and now you’re begging him to stop. 

  You crane your head back and lock eyes with Ben, his eyes are etched with worry as he lays there helpless to your pleas. “Will!” 

  “She’s fine…aren’t you sweetheart?” You can’t think, he’s fucked you so dumb you cant remember your own name let alone formulate a sentence. “Yes.” Is all you can manage. 

  “She knows what to say if she wants to stop.” He grits through his teeth as his orgasm steadily approaches, his thighs burn and he’s surely bruised your calves as he grips tightly to them. 

  You’ve never safe worded with him and you don’t plan on it now. It feels so good as the searing hot sensation creeps up your spine threatening to take purchase in your brain. “Please don’t stop.” 

  He gestures to Frankie to grab the pillow, who moves with lightning speed as he situates it under your back. Santi looks at your face then, and he finally sees it. The look of panic and bliss as you succumb to the inevitable. He’s seen this look before but he ran from it afraid that he might hurt you. Will punches something deep inside you as he lifts your hips, the sound you make bordering on pornography while your arousal coats his stomach almost forcing him out of you completely. 

  He thrusts once and twice before nearly collapsing his weight onto you as he comes through your high. He releases your legs as he leans in to give you a kiss. Will was nothing if thorough and he always made sure you were okay. It’s in this moment that you truly feel like it’s just the two of you and not aware of the blissed out expressions of the other men. 

  “You did so good for me.” He pants out against your mouth as he desperately tries to catch his breath. 

  You highly doubt this is what Ben had in mind when he suggested this game but it ended much better than any of you would have anticipated. 

  Moments pass and you’ve just barely recovered. You’re in need of a shower and some water as you try to move slightly, the grip on your wrists tighten as you look back at Frankie. 

  Do it again. 

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

Tagging a few who might be interested

@csarab615 @syrupsstuff @ghostslillady @uudelally @onefinnedwonder-fm @thedreadandthefugitivemind @romanarose @scarletthefierce

[obsessedasusual]

We’re Only Human - Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin

xReader

Summary: Jake Seresin is many things, but above all else he just wants to be loved.

Warnings: swearing, sad!jake, insecurity

Note: 1.8k - ITS SAD BOI HOURS OVER HERE BESTIES!! I haven’t posted in the longest time and I finally finished one of my many (many) wips during my lunch break - best I post it now before I just, don’t.

Read Part Two here!

Jake Seresin was many things.

He was a respected, decorated naval aviator who had truly found his life’s calling up in the skies, high above the clouds. When you had first met him, you’d found how much he loved his career endearing and even refreshing. He had described to you the feeling of adrenaline that hit from taking off the runway when you’re the one at the controls, you could do nothing but smile at how animated he was as he talked.

He was an early bird. You put it down to the Navy in him if you had to guess. He was always awake before you, sometimes at downright ungodly hours. He’d leave you with a soft kiss to your shoulder when he rose from the bed as quietly as he could, smiling fondly at you as you cozied further into the warm duvet.

He was protective. That was probably the one trait about the pilot that hadn’t surprised you when you started seeing each other. Someone throws you off balance while making your way through a packed bar? Jake’s there to keep you on your feet while shooting daggers at the perpetrator. Being talked over while you’re trying to politely place your order? Don’t even worry, Jake’ll soon sort them out.

He was a momma’s boy who would do anything for his mother in a heartbeat. The first time Jake had taken you home to meet his parents you were amazed at how quickly this big, macho Lieutenant transformed into a sweet, southern gentleman for his mom. It became an inside joke between yourself and his father.

He was an amazing cook. Date number three was when Jake had invited you back to his place and wowed you with an array of tapas style dishes, making a game out of it and asking you to score every one out of ten. His usually confident smile had turned surprisingly shy when you raved about each one and rated well above ten.

But was a hater of dips. ‘I have a perfectly fine room-temperature potato chip,’ he would argue, ‘why would I go and ruin that with a cold dip that’s gonna kill the flavour completely of said room-temperature potato chip?’

Jake Seresin was many things… but quiet wasn’t one of them.

Which is why you were confused when he didn’t laugh at the gag on ‘That 70’s Show’, which happened to be one of his favourite sitcoms. Instead he stared at the wall behind the TV, fork resting in his bowl of pasta from when he had gone to take another mouthful… and then hadn’t.

“Jake?” Your voice seemed to snap him out of his daze as his head shot to face you, instantly planting a smile on his face when his eyes met yours.

“Hm?”

“You okay?” An emotion that didn’t fit with the smile he was currently sporting flew through his eyes at your question.

“Better than okay, baby.” With that he turned back to face the TV and resumed his eating, ignoring your look of concern as you kept your eyes on him for a moment longer before finally following suit.

He didn’t speak for the rest of the episode, and remained quiet into the next.

So, no, it wasn’t like Jake talked twenty-four seven. But this type of quiet… this was different. It was the vacant look in his eyes that had you wondering.

As much as you wanted to question him further, you knew he would talk to you when he was ready.

And maybe he was.

You made a move to reach over the coffee table to grab the two now abandoned dinner plates and begin the clean up. When you stood and turned away from the couch his voice stopped you from moving any further.

“Do you think I’m an asshole?”

When you turned back to face him he was staring once again at the wall behind the TV.

“What?”

He sighed and leant his forehead against his fist before finally turning his head to you and repeating his question, quieter this time, “Am I an asshole?”

You stood frozen in your spot, eyes narrowing at his question, “No… you’re not an asshole. What makes you ask that?”

Jake bit at his lip and turned away from you, pulling yourself out of your trance. You placed the plates back on the coffee table and returned to your seat next to him, sitting criss-cross on the sofa.

He stayed facing away from you and nodded to himself, “I’m an asshole.”

“What’s going on, Jake?” You reached out to lightly pull at his forearm, enticing him to turn to you.

When his eyes met yours your concern only grew. His eyes were usually full of life and happiness, now, they seemed to hold hurt.

“Please tell me what’s going on.”

“Phoenix has always thought I was. And now the whole group does. Thought that from the first time they met me. Two weeks ago,” he was rambling a bit, as he did when he was a bit worked up but you let him continue, trying to pick up on what the issue was, “I don’t even know what I did that night but everyone made up their minds apparently. And Bradshaw didn’t help the cause.”

You knew his history with Lieutenant Bradshaw was rocky. And you knew a lot of it stemmed from insecurity, mostly on Jake’s part.

He took a deep breath before continuing, “I said something dumb today.”

His eyes darted from yours to all over the room, “Something fuckin’ dumb. In front of everyone. That I shouldn’t have said and I knew I shouldn’t have said, but I did. And now everyone hates me, well… more. Even fuckin’ Javy told me off. Can you believe that? Javy, of all people.”

As long as you’d known Jake, you’d known Javy. And he had always had Jake’s back. So that revelation was actually a little surprising.

A beat of silence passed between the two of you before you decided to speak up softly, “What did you say?”

This time when he met your eyes you saw remorse and guilt, “Bradshaw… his parents are, you know,” dead, “And I found out that his old man was Maverick’s WSO, and was flying with him when his dad… you know.”

“Okay…?” You trailed off, not really knowing where this was going.

He rubbed harshly at his eyes as if he was trying rub away the memory, “And I… Jesus fucking Christ. I told everyone. Right in the middle of training. Just… laid it all out there. Like it was my story to tell.”

Oh shit.

“He launched at me, he was ready to kill me. Fair enough too. And I, I kept going. Kept poking the fuckin’ bear.” He took a deep breath, “Everyone jumped in, pulled us apart. Mav dismissed us. But God if looks could kill.”

So that’s why he was home before you today.

“Why’d you say it?” You asked after a moment. Jake closed his eyes at your question and shook his head.

“Because I’m an asshole? I don’t know. I don’t know why I said it.”

You had a pretty good idea as to why he said it, “I think you do know why you said it, Jake.”

He looked helpless and downright embarrassed at your words.

Jake was the best of the best. That wasn’t an exaggeration nor a secret. He worked tirelessly to get his skill level to where it was today. And that had meant accidentally burning some bridges along the way, resulting in not too many friendships.

Rooster on the other hand, while also an incredibly skilled pilot, had a habit of being loved everywhere he went. He was a very popular man. And that irked Jake something terrible.

Jake was jealous.

And the thought of his skill set potentially being overlooked because of some weird form of aviator nepotism? That didn’t sit well with him at all.

“I’m such an asshole.”

“You need to apologise to Rooster.” You offered gently, resting your hand on his shoulder.

He nodded, “I know. Fuck I know. But how do you apologise for something like that?”

His eyebrows scrunched together when he looked at you.

“You just… do. You need to mean it, and I know you do. Leave it tonight, but tomorrow. You need to talk to him.”

“Bet you think I’m a shitty person now, huh?”

There it was again, the insecurity.

You shook your head at his statement and took his hand, rubbing your thumb across the back of it, “Jake I know you. Better than anyone in that group. You’re not an asshole, I wouldn’t be here if you were. But you do need to work on letting people in, and acknowledging other people’s skills.”

He made a move to cut you off but you got in first, “Have you told Phoenix how in awe of her flying you are?”

His mouth snapped shut at that.

He’d raved about her skills years ago when they were deployed together, and again since they’d been training together over the past few weeks.

“It wouldn’t hurt to start acting like you care.”

“I do care!”

“I know that. I know you care too much. But Jake, you don’t always have to be this big macho man. No one’s going to think any less of you.”

He laced his fingers with yours and squeezed tightly, head tilted back as he took in what you were saying.

“God, you could do so much better than me.”

You smiled softly at the side of his face before leaning in to kiss his cheek, “I don’t want anyone else but you.”

The light red that dusted his cheeks made you grin. You wrapped both your arms around one of his and snuggled in closer, resting your head on his shoulder, revelling in the kiss he pressed to your hair.

It was a while before Jake spoke up again, “What if he won’t talk to me? What if he, what if everyone, actually hates me now?”

You felt your heart break for your partner. Nevermind the awards he got. Nevermind the records he set. Jake Seresin just wanted companionship. He’d found that with you and Javy, and he wanted that with his squad. He wanted what they already had with each other.

“You can only try, Jake. He’ll probably be pissed, rightfully so. But you have to try.”

You felt his head nod against his, “I will.”

Turning your head slightly you kissed his clothed shoulder, “I love you, Jake Seresin.”

“I love you too. So much.”

Jake Seresin was many things.

Above all else he was simply human.

[avelera]

Avelera's Dreamling Fic Status Update:

Keeping Sanctuary (subscribe for updates here) - Giving Sanctuary Sequel follows Dream and Hob from the events of the altered meeting in 1689 up to the modern era. (aka, What if they hooked up after the 1689 meeting?) Current word count: ~7,000 words across several chapters. Realistic progress update: 1/10 complete total, Ch. 1 is about 1/5 complete.

(The rest are below the cut!)

Come live with me and be my love - Dream and Hob fall in love during the Regency Era when Dream loses a bet to Desire. Shenanigans ensue. (aka, What if they hooked up after the 1789 meeting?) Ch. 16 is at 2,500 words, probably about 1/3 done. Current plan is to wrap up Part 1 in the next few chapters then create a part 2 which finishes out their "1 year of marriage" on a month by month basis instead of following them day to day like Part 1 done. Probably won't be a separate fic though, just a change of format.

This Rough Magic - My take on "Hob rescues Dream from Burgess" with a twist that Hob ends up on Burgess's radar himself when he picked up some occult magic skills in the hopes of contacting Dream after 1889 and apologizing. Now he has to pretend to be friends with Burgess in order to get them both out of there, because Burgess thinks Hob can help force Dream to give him immortality. (aka, What if they hooked up after the 1889 meeting?) Ch. 9 is about 800 words in. Story is still very much in progress I just have a lot of WIPs, as you can see.

Joke's On You (I'm Into That) - The 1589 meeting goes very different when Hob proposes to Dream, who is so offended that he just can't let the matter go. A very angry, very horny competition kicks off between them. (Aka, what if they hooked up in 1589 when they were both at their absolute worst as people?) I have literally 40,000 words written for the rest of this fic. The problem is, there's big gaps in that first draft I have to fill in and scenes that need to be added. This might be my favorite WIP but it's also the hardest to write with all the smut scenes so it'll arrive whenever I can manage, I'm afraid.

Banana Daiquiris Ch. 2 - Comic-canon compliant (mostly) - Dream fakes his death to go on a vacation with Hob and Destruction. They end up in Tahiti. Destruction plays matchmaker. Hob doesn't know whether to thank Destruction or strangle him. Current word count 6,000 words. I've been playing around with adding on to this fic for ages. One of these days, I'll pull it all together.

And for fics that haven't been posted anywhere yet (you can subscribe on my Ao3 author page for alerts about them):

Hob Amesia Fic - Dream and Hob are dating officially now in the 21st century when Hob gets hit with what seems to be a memory loss curse, shaving off 100 years of his life each day until Dream finds a cure. This effectively grants Dream a walk down memory lane as he is reacquainted with the Hob of each era and, in the process, learns how much longer Hob cared for him than Dream ever realized. Current word count: 35,000 words. Currently writing 1489 (1889-1589 are done) and I might re-write the opening. It genuinely kills me not to have this one posted lol.

"Dream Accidentally Cursed Hob with a Normal Life" Fic - Dream learns that from 1689 on, Hob's life has been safe. Too safe. Improbably safe. Nothing bad or extraordinary or even terribly special has happened to him since Dream began to consider Hob his friend. He knows this because during his imprisonment, Hob's life became exciting again and suddenly went back to normal the day Dream was freed. Hob is not convinced that Dream is the reason for this, Dream disagrees. They talk about it. And fight about it. And some things that they've probably needed to talk about for a long time finally get said. (aka, sometimes the author just needs to write their weird headcanon into a 20,000 word fic that's almost entirely dialogue). Current word count: 16,000 words. This one also kills me that it's not done yet.

You Found Me Ch. 2 - (Comic-inspired) Hob's girlfriend Audrey survives the car crash. They got married. Then, in 2021, they got divorced. The Hob Dream meets at the New Inn when he returns is newly-divorced, bitter, and angry, and not in a good headspace to reunite with the friend who ghosted him over thirty years before. -5,000 words left to post. One of the first one-shots I wrote for this fandom then abandoned. Never could quite find an end for it that didn't become a huge long fic but I think I finally cracked it.

"Fairy God Marlowe" - 1589 fixit fic where Hob and Kit Marlowe strike up a conversation while Dream and Shaxberd are talking. Hob and Marlowe talk about plays, and faith, and salvation, and queer love, and what it means to live forever. Hob gets a second chance at a first impression. Current word count: ~5,000 words. Sadly, it's all dialogue in script format. I'd need to convert it into prose to publish which would be a slog. So it's a bit shelved until I find the energy to do so. No, I will not post it in script format, I'm allergic to the thought.

I've got a few other concepts kicking around, but these are the ones that actually have (*does a quick calculation*) over 100,000 words written that I haven't had the chance to post yet?? And it's driving me insane????

Anyway, I should probably pin this post for those curious lol. Feel free to ask me any follow-up questions, I love talking about WIPs even as they ruin my life!

[somethingclevermahogony]

An Introduction to Myself and My WIP!

Hello everyone! A confession, this is actually a re-introduction. I've been here on Tumblr for a little less than a year now, but I haven't been the best about being active, life just sort of got in the way. As such I would like to reintroduce myself and what I've been working on.

For the purposes of Tumblr and in the interest of privacy you can call me C. I am in my mid-twenties, I use he/him pronouns, and I am happily married to my partner, who is also a C. I am queer, as is my partner. I enjoy cooking, fishing, Dnd(ing?), reading, and of course writing.

We both originally come from the US but we are currently living on the east coast of Scotland as I pursue my Msc in Archaeology.

I am trying to be a bit more active on here and I am always open to things like tags and asks, even if it takes me a bit to respond.

I think that's about it for me, and so without further ado let me introduce or reintroduce you to my WIP.

Testaments of the Green Sea

Genre: Epic Fantasy

Themes and Tropes (Or more accurately a random assortment of words vaguely related to the plot): Found Family, immortality, loss, love, war, power, memory, magic, insanity, The passage of time, growing up, queerness in the ancient world, violence, spirits, fantasy outside of medieval europe

Summary: Book one of the Testaments of the Green Sea (The lands of the Green Sea are pictured above) follows the journeys of the giant slave Narul and the princess Ninma. After unexpected tragedy forces the two to flee from the Great city of Labisa, they find themselves on a journey which carries them across the ancient lands of Kishetal. Along the way they encounter spirits, demons, war, gods, pirates, and slavers. TW for death/grief, violence/blood/gore, mental illness, physical illness, abuse, and cannibalism, awkward queerness, secondhand embarrasment etc, etc.

Excerpt( First Paragraph of Chapter 1): The blood dripped into the awaiting bowl, painting its alabaster walls crimson. The slave watched the dark liquid trickle down his arm, skirting past the hairs, rolling veins, and moles. Even after these twenty years of weekly blood lettings, he could not shake a creeping feeling of unease as his eyes followed the sanguine river creeping its way across his arm. His own face gazed back at him from the scarlet pool. He could not meet his own eye, could not stand to look that creature. He turned away.

Draft Status: The second draft of the manuscript is currently being edited, I will be looking for my first round of Beta Readers likely before the end of the year.

This is just part one of a much larger series. My partner is currently working on the beginnings of their own series, set in the same world but 3,000 years in the future, roughly aligning with our own Great War Period. I'm so excited to share more with you, and I love answering questions!

Narul and Ninma courtesy of @faeporcelain

[bonefall]

I'm still wading through some brain fog so I'm not writing as much as I want to, currently. But I have just been absently sketching Willowpelt because she's been on my mind

I had initially been working with the "hyena" face in mind, but I've been playing around with the "villainous role" idea for Ferncloud's Parting. I mentioned it to my partner who pointed out that big, strong profiles like that are overused for "vengeful" characters.

Besides, I really love drawing that face shape anyway, so I figured I'd move away from it since it's going to be on a LOT of RiverClan cats in particular (they have longer muzzles than other Clans because they hunt in water).

I'm leaning towards "bat" now... maybe I'll retool it so it's more deer-like. Deer are totally underused as inspiration for harsh characters...

Anyway ready for some WIP material? Plus a recap of Ferncloud's Parting for all who need a refresher

(oh wow it got long. The power of girlies <3)

FERNCLOUD'S PARTING... Refresher!!

Replaces Graystripe's Vow completely, taking place just after the Impostor has been deposed and is imprisoned. Ferncloud is now the main POV, accompanied on her journey by her childhood best friend Cloudtail and the Impostor's surviving lackey, Bumblestripe.

The goal of this SE is to explore Ferncloud's relationship to her younger brother, Ashfur.

(BB canon: Ferncloud and Elderberry are the older kits of Brindleface. Ashkit was a singlet born shortly before his mother's death, raised by Fern, Elder, and their grandmother One-eye. Fireheart botched the Queen's Rights while claiming Cloudkit, but for all intents and purposes was socially his Mi... which he was not good at being. Cloudtail was Ashfur's mentor and Ferncloud's childhood friend.)

Ferncloud is asking herself the question; "What could I have done to prevent this?"

A lot of secondary questions revolve around this... Does this make her responsible for what Ashfur has done? Did she teach him anything that contributed to who he is today? Does that make her responsible?

Cloudtail is in a similar situation, as Ashfur's mentor and someone who only ever wanted to help his friend. Could HE have prevented this? He wants to find out.

Graystripe, oldest cat in ThunderClan, accompanies the little group as far as the mountain... and decides to stay there, with his golden boy, Stormfur.

Bumblestripe had come along with them all, for... a lot of complicated reasons. But the most relevant is that he had been one of the Impostor's most loyal, brutal enforcers. Berrynose was killed in a huge skirmish, and now there's just Bumblestripe left alone to shoulder his sins.

After saying goodbye to his father for what's probably the last time, getting to meet the mythical oldest brother he's been compared to his entire life, and seeing Cloud and Fern looking to visit the Old Forest Territories... Bumblestripe goes with them even further to make sure the old cats stay safe.

Like Graystripe's Vow, I'm planning to keep the split chronology. It goes back and forth between Ferncloud in the Broken Era, and Ferncloud back during the Fire Era.

The ultimate moral here, the point I want to build to, is that Cloudtail and Ferncloud did exactly what was expected of them. They raised a loyal warrior who holds the code above all. They're only responsible for Ashfur insofar as they were responsible for teaching him the same values of vengeance, violence, and distrust of outsiders as was expected... in Firestar's absence.

(Though... there's lots of other questions that I don't think FP will answer. Like, COULD they have truly stopped him? Can they ever understand WHY, if they don't currently? There's a LOT of feelings here and I don't know if all of them really have answers.)

WIP STUFF TIME

Here's new stuff, I've either not mentioned this before, or I've mentioned it in passing without actually linking it to Ferncloud's Parting.

I have a LOT of ideas here that I have to start sorting through. I think these characters are all really interesting so it's really a matter of cutting down all these little details into something more coherent.

When Ashkit is young, he's a child. There was nothing particularly outstanding about him, besides the fact he was a bit lonely and eager to please.

There's a bit of an air of "loss" when Ferncloud thinks back to Ashpaw's childhood. Elderberry and One-eye will be dying soon after the "flashback" segments, so when she goes back to the modern era, thinking about them feels bittersweet.

I also want to sneak in that Ferncloud feels jealous over Cloudtail's mateship with Brightheart lmao, because she has a crush on Brightheart. (Note, maybe tie this to Ashfur being obsessed with Squirrelflight, with Fern questioning if her jealousy rubbed off on Ashfur)

Through helping WarriorClan, Bumblestripe feels REALLY good. They don't know anything about his past, his struggles, or his failures as a person. He's just a hero to them and that feels... good.

Watching Bumblestripe be good, learning more about his issues and WHY he did what he did while following Ashfur brings Cloud and Fern some insight... but not entirely what they need. Is Ashfur just a Bumblestripe on a bigger scale? Or are they just learning more about how good of a manipulator Ashfur is? In which case... where did that ability to manipulate come from?

Fang/Honeysuckle might be Bumblestripe's half-brother. If that's the case, Bumble is... frustrated by it. MORE of his dad's complicated legacy.

Ferncloud and Cloudtail probably have some short discussions about how much is really appropriate to teach to WarriorClan... after all, they're here questioning if any part of Ashfur was THEIR fault, what if they accidentally teach them something terrible?

But at the same time, Ferncloud is the Educator of ThunderClan, and these cats can't write. The Glyph system would be very useful to them, and they're begging to learn more about Clan culture.

Putting a pin in that part, for now. Will tie back more into the conclusion that the Clan cat party ultimately reaches.

BACK IN THE PAST; Firestar is away bringing back SkyClan in Firestar's Quietus. Everything that is done is without him.

Longtail, the deputy, is blinded and a leader does not immediately rise to fill the space in ThunderClan.

And in BloodClan, their trading partner... Scourge does the same. Oops! WRONG TIME, SCOOJ!

Planning to retire, Scourge announces an event called The Frenzy. He will choose the next leader from whoever accomplishes the biggest achievement in the given timeframe. This is how BloodClan passes on leadership.

He gives his chosen heir, Claw, their first Frenzy Achievement-- the fang of a dog from his own collar. Anyone who wishes to take power instead must accomplish a feat even bigger than what had allowed SCOURGE to take power in the first place; Killing a dog.

Fury is a challenger. She does NOT want Scourge's chosen heir, Claw, to lead BloodClan next. Claw will continue the trading and friendliness towards Clan cats, which Fury wants to end.

ENTER WILLOWPELT

Willowpelt ALSO wants this trading with BloodClan to stop. She feels it's gone too far.

BloodClan killed her mate-- Whitestorm. Firestar might have been willing to just throw his life away for this, but she's NOT.

She's recovering from a boar bite, currently, but it's scarring up nicely... and she's willing to pretend she's injured a little longer if it shakes suspicion off her.

She doesn't WANT to be allies with Fury, but if her goal is to bring BloodClan back into isolation... then, Willowpelt will do it.

And Fury promises her something else; Revenge. Scourge is the reason why Whitestorm died, and together, they can ruin his plans and make him watch as his peaceful little power transfer crumbles into ash.

GOOD SETUP IMO but I still need to work out what nefarious deed they'll do, exactly. All I know is that Fury will betray Willowpelt at the height of it. Maybe something about taking over Barley's barn. Maybe Elderberry gets killed.

But, I have one very strong feeling in mind; Ferncloud probably ends up killing Fury while Ashpaw watches or even helps.

Hmm... maybe Graystripe (becomes deputy as soon as Firestar gets back for handling this crisis so well) ordered them to let Fury go.

But Ferncloud looked at Fury, and decided that Willowpelt was right about one thing. Most BloodClan cats cannot be trusted.

The code does not apply equally to outsiders.

Maybe I WILL have Fury end up killing Elderberry in some way, and then give Ferncloud and Ashpaw a conversation about it. "Those who don't live by the code will not be protected by it. And we must protect our Clan... even if Graystripe doesn't realize it."

I could make it clear that Fury is not a threat at that point, having been beaten in some way and Claw ascending to BloodClan leadership. OR I could have left it open-ended, like, maybe Fury would be a future problem, maybe not. Not sure yet.

Willowpelt of course will also need to experience some consequences for this... unleeeess, I have Graystripe let her off really easy exactly because she's Clanborn, which even Cloudtail is frustrated about, maybe even coining the term "Codebreaker" as an insult under his breath.

In any case, Ferncloud never told Cloudtail about how she secretly killed Fury. It's too juicy to have her reveal it to him in the modern day, explaining that it IS her fault, she DID teach him the wrong thing.

Hmm... I'm talking myself into it. Though I did also like the original vibe that Ashfur's tyranny was kind of unknowable, trying to make sense out of a senseless thing he did. I think it feels a lot more interesting for Ferncloud to have been hiding this for literal years, and now feeling like she has to "pay the world back" for what she did.

Maybe even build towards something metal about Fury's grave. Hmm... maybe to hide the murder, she buried her in Elderberry's freshly dug one, since no one would notice the soil had been recently disturbed as it was JUST dug.

Buried my sister and my secret victim in the same grave. ~Just Girlie Things~

Cloudtail sitting here, War Criminal to the right and Secret Murderer to the left like "can i ever be around normal people. like, just once"

Jokes aside... Cloudtail needs to point out something very important. Ferncloud regretted what she did, and she never did what Ashfur is doing. She never sought power, when Firestar came back she's lived a long life without ever once undermining him, and even her beliefs have softened over time.

She was a Traditionalist back then, but is Fire Alone now. After everything. The destruction of the forest, loss of her kits, WindClan rebellion, reveal of Squirrelflight and Leafpool's secret...

She's helped to raise every new generation as the Educator. And yet, Ashfur, the Impostor, is unique.

And look at Bumblestripe... being Graystripe's son didn't stop him from being the Impostor's lackey.

We all make our choices. HE made his. You made your own.

But... I don't feel like Ferncloud can entirely accept that as an answer either. There would be a very forlorn sort of feeling here. Yes, we all make our own choices-- but we influence each other. For better and for worse. And she refuses to avoid responsibility for that.

Maybe in that moment I'll have her make the choice to return home, and BE the one who becomes the Light in the Mist to face Ashfur in the Dark Forest. Seems to be coming together.

[couldawouldashoulda50]

The Homecoming - Round 1

Overview - William arrives home after the longest road-trip of the 2023/24 season; you both can hardly wait to reconnect.  

Pairing: William Nylander x f!reader.  (Note- the reader is a globally famous musician/singer/songwriter)

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: 18+ only; pregnancy; smut (oral m & f receiving, intercourse; slight masturbation references); fluff; swearing. Be kind, this is my very first time writing/posting...I may not know what the hell I'm doing...just hope it all makes sense.

A/N - this is part of a William Nylander x reader series that I am working on currently.  The following story is based on the present, whereas the WIP series spans the timeframe from when William and the reader meet up to the present day.  I’m sorry; I know this might be like reading the ending first, but it’s literally my very first fic post…there was something with this storyline that just flowed so easily.  I’ve been anxious to just get it out in the universe so I can get it out of my head...I need to be able concentrate on my actual day job again.

*********************************************************************

You lay in bed, sound asleep; two dogs flank your body, both resting peacefully.

Pablo’s head raises suddenly, followed by Banksy.  Each of the dogs leap off of the plush king bed and bolt out of the bedroom as fast as their legs will take them.  

You awaken with the sound of William��s voice as he comes through the door at the front entrance of your home, greeting both dogs with loads of love and affection.

“How are my boys?  How are you?  Were you good for Mama while I was away?  Eh?  Ooooooh…I missed you guys.  I missed your Mama too” William said, half whispering.

Normally you would get up with the dogs and watch the two wriggle and jump up to greet him at the door, smothering him in dog kisses.  You would patiently wait your turn and essentially do the same as Pablo and Banksy; you kiss him gently, wrap yourself around him, whispering to him how much you missed him, and how happy you are that he's home.  He in turn, would murmur a few things against the sensitive skin behind your ear, mostly naughty things that he’s been wanting to do to you.

But now, being 6 months pregnant, and between the aches in your back and hips and your ever growing tummy, William knew how much harder it’s been for you to get comfortable, especially in bed.  He lovingly told you the night before when you spoke that you were to stay put when he arrives home - and no staying awake waiting for him either, he said.

William walks into the overly spacious bedroom with Pablo and Banksy trotting behind him and drops his bags on the couch by the fireplace.  As he unbuttons his white dress shirt, he looks over at you and smiles.  It always catches you…William has smiled at you a million times over and still, each and every time, your heart expands with absolute adoration for him.  “Hi, my love” you say, longingly.

He walks towards the bed, tilting his head to the side to look at your face in the dim light.

“How are you feeling?  I forgot to ask you - did this thing help you sleep at all?” William nods his head toward the large body pillow that he brought home for you before he left on his trip. 

You break out into a grin.  Lately, your hormones have kicked into high gear, with vivid sex images with William being the only thing on your mind.  So while the pillow gave you the comfort and support you needed, the firm plush piece that was nestled between your thighs only exasperated your unruly libido.  “Hmmm, well…it helped once I actually fell asleep” you said, gliding your hand over the fabric, “but….it’s this thick piece between my legs…all it made me think of is the thick thing between your legs.  I feel like a dog in heat…so that part’s been fucking torture.”  

William laughs as he continues to undress. He throws his shirt and the rest of his clothing on the upholstered bench at the foot of the bed, leaving his shorts on.  You immediately stare at his package and bite your lip, unintentionally releasing a tiny moan.

“I mean it…I’m not  kidding.  It’s all I can think about…and William, I’m telling you….the thoughts I have about you are just fucking filthy”.  

You pressed your thighs together against said pillow to try to get some relief from the pressure that’s heightening around your core.  You really weren’t exaggerating; your hormones are raging and you swear you could fuck him into next week and it still wouldn’t be enough. 

“Seriously, you have to help me…it’s required as part of your husband/pre-DILF duties”.

“Didn’t you…you know…take care of ‘business’ yourself at all while I was gone?” a wry smirk appeared on his lips.  “You could have mentioned what was going on with you when we Facetimed…I could have…y’know - walked you through what I would have done if I was here…” William said coyly.

“Mmmmm…I thought about it - I thought maybe showing you how badly I needed you while you watched me...taking care of business.. that I would get some relief that way” you said, your voice soft with a hint of seduction.

“But I knew the minute I got going, no matter what I used - fingers, toys…whatever - the only thing that would completely satisfy me is a nice hard dick.  And not like my Willy’s cock clone that I have to break out when you’re away - I literally only want your dick inside me.  God damn, it’s so fucking good…” you smile up at him, gripping the pillow a little harder now.  Even just talking about his cock is turning you on.

“So, yeah…”, your eyes trail back down to his shorts, as you nod to his unwrapped gift “there’s that.”  You pause; there’s not many things you feel uncomfortable telling William but you’re not quite certain how he’ll react with your next confession. “There’s something else too.  Your joy juice - that’s the other thing I’m craving…fuck, I can’t stop thinking about it.  On my face, in my mouth….fed to me….”, you blush and giggle a little with your admissions, but you have no filter now as your desire for him was reaching a fever pitch. “This pregnancy has turned me from a respected musician to William Nylander’s personal cum slut”, you said dryly,

William’s mouth drops open a little but a wry smile begins to form on his lips.  “Oh really, eh?  You’re my personal cum slut?” he laughs.  “Well then…what wifey wants, wifey shall get”.

You watch each movement of his muscular body as he crawls up onto the bed, slides under the sheets and duvet, and shifts his body towards you.  He lay on his side, his gorgeous face close enough to yours that you can feel his breath.  

“Seriously….I missed you so much, William.  It felt like you were gone forever.  You looked amazing during the games though…as usual”, you said, bringing your hand up to trace his jawline.  You think to yourself, ‘God - you are so gone for this man’.    

“I missed you too - it was a long fucking trip....all I wanted was you like this, all... day... long,” William smiles and leans in, kissing you gently; his arms circle around you, supporting your body as he pushes the giant pillow out of the way and engulfs you in his embrace.  He slides his hand down onto your baby bump, hoping to feel a kick from your unborn son.  You scan his face as he does the same to yours; you gently graze his lips, wanting to breathe him in more. It’s not long before there’s a flurry of activity from your tummy, as though the baby wants to show off some tricks for his Dad.  

With you in his arms and feeling his baby kick, William’s turquoise eyes are fixed on yours; he smiles widely at the fluttery feeling from the baby’s movements…he finds himself completely mesmerized by you.  

He leans in for a deeper kiss.  Your hand snakes along his jawline into his thick mane of blonde hair, pulling his mouth to yours.  That initial taste of his tongue against yours evokes a long, breathy moan from your mouth.  Your hunger for him now borders on animalistic.  You’re afraid that your need for him is wound so tightly that once he touches your engorged pussy, he might actually send you into orbit.

Every touch on each other’s body elicits extended drawn out moans that are untamed, as your mouths feast on each other’s taste.  

William’s hand slowly slides along the underside of your round stomach, and in no time, his hand dips under the band of your cotton panties.  You’ve told him of your desperation already, but when his middle finger reaches the top of your slit, he moans as slides his thick digit into your wet folds.  He watches you as you close your eyes and grip his shoulders at the mere grazing of your clit.  Your breathing has already become erratic and he has barely even begun working you over.  

“Fuck - please…William…..I need you inside of me…please…” you whisper close to his ear.

“I know - soon, min Ӓlskling…here, come up here, I want to see all of you…I’ve missed touching your body”.  William gently removes his fingers from underneath your panties.  

William kicks back the sheets and props himself up on his one forearm.  You sit up on your knees and William helps you slide your panties off.  His eyes darken as he glimpses at your exposed pussy; the sheen of wetness that he spread with his finger apparent.  

The road trip was long and despite his focus on the ice - which led to a number of stellar performances from him - when he could allow his thoughts to wander, he only thought about you.  Although he knows you desperately need a release, he wants to savour every moment of this homecoming too.  He planned to take his time with you, he just didn’t expect you to be wound so tightly with your pent up yearning for him.

His hands reached out to caress your pregnant belly again; William is completely infatuated with the way you look.  Prior to getting pregnant, your breasts were already one of his favourite features on you but in the past month, they have become even more full and voluptuous.  His hands move up from your stomach and they cup each breast.  You look down at his shorts which are fully tented now and you can hardly wait to wrap your hand, your mouth, your core,  in whatever order, around his thick member.  

William raises himself up and begins to kiss your neck, slowly and sensually.  His mouth feels so agonizingly good; you whisper how in love you are with him as you run your fingers through his hair.  William begins kissing your soft, round breast and with his tongue pointed, he slowly begins to lick your tightened nipple in a circular motion.  The intense sensation of his wet tongue and hot breath connecting with your nipple immediately rocks you; your body is so highly sensitive to his touch, everything he does sends a shockwave down to your core.  You can’t help but to grab the back of his head with your one hand, fisting his hair in order to keep his mouth latched to your nipple.  Seeing your reaction as he continues to lick and suck on one of your tits, he begins to manipulate your other nipple with the fingers of his left hand.  

His other hand begins to travel down from your stomach to your pussy, now drenched in your juices.  His middle finger toys with your clitoris, and he feels your grip tightening in his hair.  He inserts his middle finger deep into your core, and as he gyrates his hand, you cry out to him, grabbing his wrist as your hips begin to writhe around on his hand.  He begins to alternate between finger-fucking you and spreading your wetness around your highly sensitive bud.

William withdraws both his mouth from your nipple and his finger from your folds.  You whimper at their departure but the sound is muffled by his mouth as he kisses you slowly.  You lessen your grip on his hair as your mouths and tongues lightly graze each other.  Exhaling deeply and biting your lip yet again, you lean your forehead against his, trying to stabilize your breathing.  

With your fingers splayed wide, you run both your hands down his chest.  You don’t know how you’ve gotten to be so fortunate to be able to touch this man so intimately.  

“Climb on top of me, Y/N…on top of my face” William said in a voice low and gravelly, as he lay on his back.  “I wanna make you cum so hard for me”   

William knows in once sense that he might be tormenting you a little with not just fucking you into the mattress like he knows you want.  It might seem selfish, but he’s been needing you as much as you’ve needed him lately, and he’s looking to draw this out for a little longer to savour every bit of you. 

William helps you straddle him.  Having your legs opened up, allowing your pussy to connect with William’s muscular torso gives way to the urge to rub and grind your dripping cunt against him.  William’s eyes are transfixed on your movements; he’s completely engrossed watching you rock back and forth, while you cradle the underside of your belly for support.   You look ethereal, angelic even as your long hair sweeps across his forearms.  Your eyes are fluttering shut; waves of desire pulsate through your core.  You lean your head back and your long curls fall between his legs and start grazing his member.  

William’s hands move around your body, his desire for you on full display. 

“Come here…come up here - I need to taste you now, Y/N”.

You lace your fingers with William’s as he helps you move on your knees until your swollen entrance is hovering above his mouth.  The initial contact when his pointed tongue licks the entire length of your wetness has you clutching the headboard.  ‘You’re in trouble now’ you think to yourself.

William expertly swirls his tongue around your aching nub as he steadies your hip movements with his strong grip to the rhythm he has dictated.   He continues to alternate between sucking on your sweet spot and tongue-fucking you, driving you to the edge of insanity with the stimulation.  The vibration of each moan from William adds to the intense pleasure that courses through your body.  You match his moans with shrieks of delight, quivering whimpers, and his name falling from your lips on a continuous loop.  

Suddenly, your head snaps back as your cunt is flushed with heat, and instinctively you clench your inner walls.  You can feel your orgasm building like a tidal wave and you slam both hands against the headboard and grip the fabric for dear life.  

“Will! Will - Willi-um - I’m…fuck!!  Oh my GOD…please!  William!” letting out a sharp cry as your voice strains.

William keeps working his magic between your thighs, his hands still in control of your hip movements. 

You might end up tearing your upholstered headboard at this rate, your knuckles have turned white from your vice-grip like hold.  Your mouth is open but there is no sound, only heavy pants as your hips try to buck wildly against William’s restraint.  

Then your orgasm hits, crashing into you like a tidal wave making you cry out for William.  You grab a hold of the pillow that William’s head is resting on; your breath is shaking as your body slows its writhing, twitching with your final release.

You lift yourself up so you could scooch down a little further back onto his torso; up until now, your pregnant belly obstructed your view of William’s face while he worked you into delirium.   

“Oh my God….William….” you said as you looked down at him.  You smooth his tousled hair from his face and using the side of your thumb, you start to gently swipe your lady juice from around his mouth and his dense five o’clock shadow.

His eyes are locked on yours and as he sits up, he pulls you in for a sloppy kiss.  “See how fucking good you taste?” he said, smirking.

“You are fucking incredible…absolutely amazing, my husband…” you said breathlessly, lips still connected with his. 

You remain straddling William and you reach behind to gently touch his fully erect cock.  You feign surprise as though you had opened up the best present of your life, letting out a gasp followed by a moan.  Your gaze returns to William’s face and in a voice thick with desire, you simply say “Mmmm…my turn…”

You are desperate to quench the insatiable urge to taste his cum.  You slide off William’s lap and he lets himself fall back onto the mattress.  You start by kissing and running your tongue down his flesh towards his cock.  When you reach his treasure trail, you take your time stroking his path with your tongue.  You work your way down until his flawless member is directly in front of you; his above average length and supreme girth makes your mouth salivate and pussy throb simultaneously.   The head of his dick is coated with pearlized liquid and you waste no time by running your tongue along his tip, dipping your tongue into the hollow spot at the top repeatedly which encourages more precum to leak from the smooth head.  

Grunts and groans, followed by your name fall from William’s mouth as you accept the full length of his firm cock toward the back of your throat.  Your senses are going wild; the feel of his dick in your mouth, the faint smell of his body wash and cologne, the salty-sweet taste of his seeping arousal.  You try to shift your body to find a more comfortable angle as you continue to suck and deep-throat his member.  You love giving him head, but the discomfort from leaning over with a baby growing inside of you is creating a lot of pressure around your abdomen and back.

“William - I’m so sorry…I don’t think I can lean over like this…the baby…”

William sits up, a slight look of concern on his face.  “Are you ok?? Do you want to stop?”

“NO!!  God - no…I just need to find a better position” you said, rubbing your belly.  

William leans over the side of the bed reaching for the large pregnancy pillow he bought you.  You watch this dream of a man shift the other pillows that have been strewn around on the bed to make room.  He’s kneeling as he guides you towards the pillow, his leg muscles showing every contour and his magnificent cock juts out, still rigid from what you were doing to him with your mouth moments ago.

“Let me hear how much you missed my cock fucking you,” William growled as he kissed your mouth.

You crawl over to the pillow, your round ass up in the air, on display for William.  You look back at him, flip your hair to the side and smile sweetly as he stares at you, his mouth slightly agape.

You manipulate the pillow so it supports your entire midriff comfortably.  Conveniently, it also allows you to arch your back a little more; it’s a clear invitation to William that you want whatever he’s offering from behind.  His dick starts to twitch - William knows exactly what you want from him in this position.

Your pussy is already wet, but William’s cock is substantial and needs extra lubrication before he enters you.  His fingers deftly caress your clitoris and as you moan his name, and it’s not long before he knows you’re primed and ready for him.  He gives you a kiss on one of your ass cheeks and then gives you a little spank.  He lines the tip of his dick up to your swollen folds, running it through the wetness that has pooled at your centre.  He begins to push his dick into your entrance slowly; his strong grip on your hips helping him slide in.  

You moan loudly as his cock stretches your walls; the initial pain quickly gives way to pleasure as your eyes roll into the back of your head.  William buries his cock deep into your core and when he’s fully inside of you, he holds you in position for a moment.  You clench around his cock and you give into the urge to rotate your hips just to feel his dick move inside of you.  

You glance at William over your shoulder as your pent up desire gives way to full desperation for him to fuck you hard.  William’s gaze meets yours; a crooked smile starts to form on his face.

William begins with slow movements - he is torturing you in the best possible way right now.  He knows the build-up will be more satisfying for you in the long run rather than just pounding your pussy mercilessly straight out of the gate.  

“William…oh my god” you whisper breathlessly.  “Please….you feel so fucking good…please, I need you to fuck me…” you beg.

You try to satiate your need for him to rail you by rotating and bucking your hips as he presses his cock deeper each time he enters you.

You hear a faint chuckle from William followed by a low moan as he increases his speed.  

Your face falls and is now buried in the pillow and your words are muffled as he begins his firm and rhythmic thrusts.  

“Oh my God William….oh my god…fucking….please….fuck me…” you wail.  As he moves in and out of your cunt, he can feel the hard grip of your walls around his shaft    

“Fuuuuck me…you are so fucking tight Y/N…” William grits his teeth as he continues to bury his cock inside of you, thrusts becoming more rapid; the erotic sounds of grunts and moans from both of you collide with the sound of skin slapping against skin.  

You clutch the sheets as he continues to ride you hard.  He grabs the meatier flesh at the top of your ass and continues to pound you, your moans sound more like a siren now…continuous cries reverberate off the walls.  

He gathers your hair into his one hand as his other hand moves up and grips your shoulder, allowing him to penetrate you deeper.  You feel like you’re descending into insanity, your mind is overwhelmed by pure ecstasy and all you can do is succumb to your body’s state of bliss.  

William looks down at you as his fast and powerful thrusts are making your legs start to quiver.  He watches as your toned muscles in your arms and back constrict, covered in a light sheen of sweat as he fulfils all of your desires.  William growls as he reaches the height of his arousal; his hips move erratically and his fingertips indent your flesh ever further.  He looks down and sees your own arousal decorating his cock with opaque streaks as it pools around his base.  He grunts at the sight of your slickness and is so close to relief but he wants to make sure you cum first.

“I’m so close, baby - fuck….fuck….you feel so fucking good” William groans.  

Your cheeks are blazing hot as your orgasm takes hold of your body.  It’s a feeling so intense that your body feels like it’s short-circuiting.  “I’m right there - right there….oh my God William!” you shriek, grappling with the mattress from the sheer force of your release.  Your thighs try to close together and you buck wildly as your pussy clenches William’s cock so hard that you push him right out of you.  William quickly grabs his dick and with a few firm pumps, he unleashes his load onto your ass.

“Holy shit Y/N….” William said after a few seconds, trying to catch his breath.

You lie there, body still trembling as the aftershock of such a forceful orgasm travels through your body.  You remain in the same position with William still behind you.  You shift your head so your forehead is resting on the pillow as your breathing begins to slow.   

“Y/N?” William’s voice is soft and low.

“Mmmm-hmm” is all you can muster.  He senses you smiling into the pillow.

“You still have that craving?  You know…my - what’d you call it….joy juice?

Drawing out the same sound, you respond “Mmmmmmmm-hmmmmmmmm” while giving your ass a little wiggle. 

You hear William chuckle slightly as he runs two fingers through the streams of his cum on your skin.  You manage to find the strength to push yourself back up onto your hands, flipping your matted curls to the side as seductively as possible.  He stares at your mouth as you accept his coated middle and ring fingers, your tongue swirling around his digits, making sure you’ve licked every single drop of his cum from his fingers.  You hold onto his hand, placing open-mouthed kisses on his palm and then place it on your still hot cheek.  He responds by placing gentle kisses along your shoulder-blade and murmurs how much he loves you.

Gingerly, you both begin to move; he comes along to your side and helps guide your body back in between the arms of the pregnancy pillow.  He peppers you with kisses and you lazily run your fingers through his hair, unable to stop smiling.  He manages to squeeze in right next to you and as he pulls you into his chest, you exhale deeply.  This is your favourite spot in the whole world; wrapped in William’s arms, your face against his broad and beautiful chest.

“You feel better now - you got what you wanted?” William quietly asks, chuckling into your hair.

“I think I’m still cumming, if that’s even possible…so fucking good”, you mumble into his chest.

After a few minutes, William kisses the top of your head and starts to get up out of bed.  

“I’ll be back in a second…do you need anything?”

You moan and exaggerate a pout followed by a smile….never wanting to leave the warmth and comfort of his embrace.  You smile and shake your head ‘no’ while sliding towards the edge of the bed, holding your belly and trying to look somewhat graceful.  William offers both of his hands to help stand you up.  You grab William’s white dress shirt from the end of the bed and put it on; his natural smell mixed with his cologne almost makes you weak in the knees.

William pulls you back into him, his hands roaming under his dress shirt as he presses his lips against yours.  “You have to let me take a picture of you in this…you have no idea how fucking gorgeous you look right now”.

You smile against his lips.  “You can do whatever you want with me when you come back to bed”.  Your hands slowly descend to his ass; you gently rub yourself against his member, now cloaked under his shorts.

William groans against your lips and apprehensively breaks from your embrace.  He summons for the dogs to come.

“I’m taking the dogs out so we can sleep in a bit tomorrow.  Get ready for Round 2” he purrs.

You watch him walk away with the dogs in tow; the view of his muscular stature and his tight round ass as he exits your bedroom has you clenching your thighs, needing him all over again.

[ohwhataniight]

I'm never gonna dance again - Part 1

SO I can't stop starting WIPs and working on them simultaneously. I've formed such a bad habit! I just wanted to write my take on what happened when Sherlock offered to teach John how to dance before the wedding. Feedback and britpicking more than welcome. Thank you so much for reading!

Songs for mood: Careless Whisper, the Postmodern Jukebox version

Masquerade Suite: Waltz, Aram Khachaturian

Source of photo

I feel so unsure

As I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor

As the music dies, something in your eyes

Calls to mind a silver screen

And all its sad good-byes

It starts a month before the wedding. The tutoring is quite intensive - Sherlock doesn’t do anything halfway. “You need to have a basic idea of eight different ballroom dances if you don’t wish to make a fool of yourself on the dancefloor.”

“Eight? You’ve got to be kidding me. Sherlock, I’m getting married, I’m not competing as a professional ballroom dancer.”

“Exactly, you’re getting married,” Sherlock huffs. “Put some effort, John. Your skills currently being subpar shouldn’t prevent you from learning the basic steps of the waltz, rumba, rock ‘n’ roll...”

“If England runs out of crime, never become a tutor,” John sulks. “You’re not exactly boosting morale, here, mate.”

Sherlock waves his hand in the air dismissively, taking two swift steps to close the distance between them, taking John’s hand in his own and holding it up. “None of that. With our lessons you’re going to be an expert in two weeks. Now. Other hand on my waist.” His other hand is on John’s back, between his shoulder blades.

“No, wait,” John hisses, untangling his grip from Sherlock’s and moving towards the windows to pull the heavy curtains shut. “People will talk.”

“They do little else, John, as we’ve established ages ago,” Sherlock huffs impatiently. “Now, hand on my waist.”

“Seriously?” John chuckles awkwardly, eventually letting Sherlock manipulate him into the right posture with a hand that pushes steadily against his back as their other hand grips John’s firmly again.

“John, I’m afraid we won’t be able to keep a preferrable pace in your learning process if you keep acting like a teenage boy,” Sherlock scolds him, but with the hint of a smile on his face.

The first time they dance it’s in three quarters time. They start with the waltz. Sherlock is teaching John to lead.

John can’t believe what’s happening the first time. Less than two months ago he couldn’t bare to be at this very living room, he would become nauseous every time he’d stare at Sherlock’s armchair. And now Sherlock is showing him “the box”.

In the beginning, John steps on his friend’s feet a couple of times. They bang their heads once, when John steps forward instead of backward. He apologizes a lot and keeps staring, alarmed, at his feet.

“Keep your back straight, head high, you’ll need to look at Mary in the face, don’t look at your feet.”

And so they go, one-two-three one-two-three, until John has figured out how to turn instead of landing on the wall or on a chair, until their tight grip is clammy and sweat has broken on their underarms and foreheads.

John has never been one for dancing, and he’s quite used to Sherlock violating his personal space, yet this is different. Sherlock is a firm but capable tutor who, despite his gentle scolding, somehow ends up making him feel good about himself. When John feels slightly more confident with the steps to allow himself to relax, their flow becomes natural. John asks for music - listening only to their accelerated breathing, their socked feet tapping on the floor, and the swishing of fabric is making him feel self-conscious. Sherlock obliges him and hits Play on his phone. The Masquerade Suite fills the room and they rediscover their pace rather effortlessly.

One-two-three one-two-three

Being in John’s arms feels right, and the realization pains him. He lets himself navigate the never-ending stairs and cold, wide rooms of his mind palace. They’re waltzing on an ornate ballroom with mirrors all around, their joined figures multiplying in a line of identical couples. They’re in tailcoats, one-two-three one-two-three, John is leading and Sherlock is following. Oh, he’s always loved to follow, how he’s always craved a dancing partner confident enough to lead him. John Watson is most fitting for the task, with a serious, almost stern expression on his lined face, his lips pressed together as he stares at him intently with his brilliant, azure gaze burning into Sherlock’s eyes, almost reducing him to tears. At the climax of the violins they sway smoothly, as if they’re stepping on clouds one-two-three one-two-three and Sherlock is dizzy, feels disoriented when John dips him and he senses blood filling his head as he views the ballroom from upside down, his abdomen pressed against John’s, his friends hand steady on his waist, their fingers tangled together, inspeparable.

It’s a graceful dance, waltz, and Sherlock finds himself grateful for John’s military training. He can’t imagine how much more difficult everything would be if John didn’t possess such good posture. Sherlock has always loved dancing, yet he had never before experienced this. Piercing blue eyes making him lightheaded, rendering breathing a strenuous task, his heart hammering against his ribcage, and suddenly he realizes that John, always legible, has become even more so. Now that they’re so close to each other there’s no need for pulse-taking or the employment other sneaky devices, no. Their sweaty, dopamine-rushed bodies cannot lie, the violins are masking all sounds but their rapid breathing that mingles, sweet and expectant.

Mrs. Hudson walks in on them, balancing a tray with tea and biscuits in their hands, while they’re practicing the under arm turn (quite gracefully given their height difference, if Sherlock can allow himself to take pride in that).

“Oh, my boys, so beautiful! Look at the both of you, engulfed in your dancing!” she squeals, bringing her fingers to her lips. “We should take a video, to commemorate this moment...”

It’s John who terrifies her out of the apartment this time, and John can be very terrifying indeed, Sherlock thinks as Mrs. Hudson turns around and shuts the door behind her, tutting disapprovingly at their manners.

“Let’s hope we didn’t give her the wrong impression,” John chuckles softly, going for the tea, a sign that he’s had enough waltzing around for one day. Sherlock’s mind palace ballroom vanishes into thin air and he’s in the dimly lit living room at Baker Street again, side-staring at John who is avoiding his gaze. Sherlock swallows back a sigh as his long fingers reach for a biscuit.

Part 2, Part 3

[wolfjackle-creates]

Ghost!Robin Part 4

Here's your next part of the Ghost!Robin fic for WIP Wednesday. I'm gonna start putting fic designation in the title field rather than WIP Wednesday because I think it makes it easier to read.

Also, everyone came out in numbers for last week's segment! Damn! Thank you and I'm glad so many of you are enjoying this little fic of mine. We'll probably get one more week of this before I go back to Bring Me Home, but it'll depend what I feel like. I want to rework some of what I have written next.

First, Previous

1.1k words + a 464 word Omake (cut scene)

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Tim asked more details on the specs of the PDA which Danny happily answered. The things he built with Tucker were always his favorite inventions.

“So are you in school to become an engineer or something?” asked Dick who’d gotten Damian calmed down and sitting. The boy had gotten his knife back and was spinning it in his hands. Bruce seemed to be fondly exacerbated by the scene. Robin had pulled out a ghostly weapon and was trying to copy Damian’s movements, though he wasn’t quite as adept.

Danny shook his head to Dick’s question. “Nah. Hard to get into engineering school when you fail high school.” Danny narrowed his eyes as Damian’s mouth opened, but Dick whispered in his ear again and the boy didn’t say anything.

“I ended up dropping out of high school and getting a GED,” said Tim. “It can work just as well.”

Robin was nodding along and pointing at himself, too. Had he died before he could complete his schooling, too?

“I’m sure. It’s just not a priority for me right now. I don’t need one for my job and I can’t become an astronaut because of my accident when I was fourteen.”

Dick was nodding, but Tim looked confused and asked, “Fourteen? I thought you had your accident when you were older?”

“Why would you think that?” Had he or Jazz made any reference to when his accident was? “No, it happened when I was fourteen. A few weeks before I started my freshman year of high school.

Before Tim could ask anything else, Steph called out from the other side of the room. “Did you say you wanted to be an astronaut? Totally awesome. What made you pick that?”

“I honestly don’t know why everyone doesn’t want to be astronauts! Space is so cool. We can learn so much about the universe by studying it in closer detail. And with how many aliens are now living at least part time on Earth, it only makes sense to explore and see what else might be out there.”

Bruce nodded at him. “I am sorry you aren’t able to become one.”

Danny just waved a hand in the air. “I came to terms with it a long time ago. And my current job is fine. Might not be what I would’ve chosen, but I’ve made it work for me.” Deciding he should change the subject before someone had the brilliant idea to ask more about his accident or job, he asked, “So what is for dinner, anyway? You’ve all talked about how amazing the food is, but what are we having?”

Someone tried to speak up, but Jason held up a hand. “I’m the one who helped Alfie cook. Demon-brat is vegetarian so we have a vegetarian curry. If you like meat, there’s a prime rib roast. Then a half dozen different sides—vegetables, rice, potatoes. Huge salad with all the fixings and a dozen different dressings to choose from. And dessert after.”

“Damn, that sounds amazing. I haven’t had a good home cooked meal in ages, so I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“Has your Grandpa been keeping you that busy?” asked Jazz.

“That, but also getting things in order to take this evening off. There’s just been a lot. I’m spending the night at yours, by the way.”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

Danny knew he could rely on Jazz.

“Ooh, do you have any good stories about Jazz as a kid?” asked Jason.

Laughing, Danny said, “So many! But I don’t think we’ll be able to get to those tonight. I’ve a feeling you’ll be interested in other things by that point.” At his words, Robin grinned and pointed at himself. Danny gave him a slight nod to confirm that yes, they’d be talking about him.

Before Jason could ask for clarification, Alfred came in to announce dinner was ready.

Robin cheered and flew over to sit on Alfred’s shoulders, hand extended, to lead the way to the dinning room. Danny couldn’t hold back the chuckle and Jazz shot him a look which he ignored.

“There better be a place setting for you, Alfie!” called Jason as they followed.

“You made your opinion quite clear, Master Jason. And as I wish to meet your young lady and her brother as well, I have set myself a plate at the main table.”

Tim leaned over to whisper to Danny. “Alfred considers his role as butler very important. He rarely eats with the rest of us unless we join him in the kitchen.”

Danny nodded to show he understood, but had no idea how to actually reply to that. It seemed needlessly complicated.

Once they made it to the dining room, Danny grinned as Robin did a flip off of Alfred’s shoulders and landed sitting down on one of the place settings facing the associated chair. He bit his cheek to keep from laughing as Jason sat down at that same place. Jazz took a seat next to him and Danny sat to her other side. Dick ended up sitting next to him.

The scents of all the food wafting off the table made his mouth water and he closed his eyes just to breathe it in. “This smells amazing. Thanks Alfred. And Jason.”

Even Robin had moved to look over every dish, reaching out a hand to try and take something and sighing when he just phased through it.

Even Jazz looked a bit overwhelmed at the quantity of food. “This is so much effort. You didn’t have to do all this just for Danny and me.”

Bruce smiled at her. “It is so rare for all of us to be together for dinner so we make a spectacle of it any time it happens. And this is the first time Jason has ever brought anyone with him which makes it an even bigger event.”

Danny nudged her. “So, Jazz, what’s it like living with someone who can cook?”

Jason laughed. “Jazz isn’t allowed in the kitchen. You know, I caught her grabbing my chef’s knife before going into the fridge the other day!”

Danny furrowed his brow. “Of course she did. It’s a fridge.”

“Wait, is that a family trait? Why do you grab a knife to open the fridge? There’s gotta be a good story behind that.”

Before Danny could make the obvious statement regarding attacking food, Jazz elbowed him. “We’ll tell you later. It has to do with our parents and that’s a large topic and not one we should get into now.”

Before Danny could ask any questions about what the big deal was, Dick nudged him. “Which do you want—curry or beef?”

---------

Omake

Ignoring all of it, Danny shook his head and answered Dick. “Nah. Hard to get into college when you fail high school and are legally dead.”

Multiple people, including Jason, exclaimed at that statement and he looked to Jazz.

“Did Jazz not tell you about that? Our parents swear they saw my ghost and had me declared legally dead. I was missing at the time so the coroner agreed. Sighting the ghost of a missing person is all you need to confirm death in Amity.”

Under her breath, Jazz added, “You were only missing because they had you.”

Danny elbowed her and quietly chirped a Safe now.

Bruce was no longer smiling and was looking at Danny with narrowed eyes. “Your parents had you declared dead.”

“Yeah. It’s fine, though. I’ve an amazing doctor if I get into trouble. My grandfather is watching out for me. I’m financially stable. My partners are able to rent an apartment large enough for all three of us. I have other places to stay when I’m traveling. Honestly, it doesn’t impact my life all that much. Just means I’m not gonna go to college. And only reason I wanted to go to college was to be an astronaut, but my health makes that impossible.”

“Hn…” Bruce hummed.

And Danny had no idea what that meant, but Robin was now laughing, and Dick was exchanging grins with Tim, and Steph and Cass were whispering together. Damian was glaring at him even harder, blade hilt gripped in his hand. These people were strange.

Danny looked over at Jazz who shrugged. Jason was glaring at Bruce and said, “Don’t you dare.”

“Look, it’s really not a big deal. I know it’s kinda a messed up situation, but ghosts are generally treated really well in Amity. As well as any living human, at least. So long as you avoid the Guys in White and my parents that is. So outside of interactions with them, nothing has changed.”

“If you are ever in need of a place to stay or a meal or anything, you’ll have a room here,” offered Bruce.

Robin landed on Danny’s shoulders and was sending out happy-celebrate feelings. Steph handed Cass a few bills. Tim and Dick mimed giving each other fist bumps. Jason put his head in his hands and groaned. Duke was grinning at them all.

Damian half stood and said, “Father—!”

But Dick was at his side and pulling him back down to the couch with an arm around his shoulders, hand over his mouth, and whispering into his ear before he could do more than say the one word.

“Seriously, it’s not a big deal.” Trying to think of anyway to change the subject, he asked, “So what’s for dinner, anyway?”

And for the Tag List! (Which absolutely exploded this week. Holy shit.)

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The celebration post for 100 followers will be going out in another day or two! I've just had a really busy few weeks and didn't do as much writing as I was hoping for. But I hope to finish writing today and then I'll just take a few hours to edit.