#i can’t decide if i love him or want to be him

[slutoru1207]

Stranger in a Strange Land

Viltrimite!Mark x Reader

When Mark first arrived on Earth, he saw it as nothing more than a mission. A planet to study, integrate into, and eventually conquer.

Then, he met you.

It wasn’t anything dramatic. No explosions, no fights, no cosmic events shifting fate itself. You just… bumped into him.

Literally.

You were in a rush, balancing coffee, your bag, and about ten different things when you crashed right into him—and bounced off like you hit a brick wall.

Your coffee spilled. Your things scattered. And you ended up on the pavement, blinking up at the tall, broad strangerwho didn’t even budge.

He looked down at you, eyebrows furrowed, golden eyes studying you with sharp curiosity.

“…You’re fragile.”

That was the first thing he said to you.

And instead of being terrified—you got annoyed.

"Gee, thanks, man," you muttered, gathering your things. "Glad to know I’m not made of steel."

His head tilted, clearly confused. You sighed. Another clueless dude with zero social skills.

Still, he crouched, far too close, picking up your bag like it weighed nothing before offering you a hand.

That’s when you got a good look at him.

He was gorgeous.

Tall, stupidly muscular, sharp jawline, tousled black hair—but his eyes. They were different. Golden, intense, watching you like you were some strange new species.

You hesitated before taking his hand.

It was warm. Solid. And when he pulled you up—he lifted you effortlessly, like you weighed nothing.

That was the beginning.

-

You quickly learned that Mark wasn’t just weird.

He was entirely clueless.

He didn’t understand social norms, personal space, or why humans didn’t casually lift cars to move them out of parking spots.

"What do you mean I can’t?" he frowned, watching as you dragged him away from a busy intersection. "It’s inefficient."

"It’s illegal," you corrected. "And it freaks people out!"

"But I’m helping."

"You're scaring people, Mark!"

He looked at the pedestrians, who were staring in horror after watching him lift a sedan with one hand.

"…They should be grateful."

You groaned. "Okay, we need to talk."

Mark didn’t understand human food, either.

"You’re telling me," he said, staring at the plate of pancakes in front of him, "that this is considered 'breakfast'?"

"Yeah?" you said, confused. "Why? What do you eat?"

His eyes darkened just slightly.

You decided not to ask.

Instead, you shoved a fork into his hand. "Just try it."

He sighed, looking skeptical—but took a bite.

And then… he froze.

You watched as his expression slowly shifted—surprise, wonder, then… something almost like awe.

"…This is good," he muttered.

You grinned. "See? Welcome to the magic of pancakes."

For the first time, he smiled.

A real, genuine, boyish grin. And it made your stomach flip.

-

Mark was blunt, honest, and terrifyingly intense.

But as time passed, he softened—at least around you.

You caught him watching you sometimes. Not in a creepy way—but in pure fascination.

"You’re so small," he’d say out of nowhere.

You raised an eyebrow. "Gee, thanks."

His lips twitched. "I like it."

…Oh.

Then there were the moments he got protective.

Like the time a guy got too close, too pushy.

Mark didn’t say a word. Didn’t need to.

He just stepped forward, standing at his full overpowering height, eyes glowing, and… yeah. The guy practically ran.

You had to drag Mark away before he could actually kill someone.

"You can’t just threaten people, Mark!"

"Why not?"

"Because that’s not how humans work!"

"Then how do I make sure no one touches you?"

You paused.

Your heart pounded.

"...You just ask me if I want them to."

His gaze flickered. He was silent for a long time before muttering, "I don’t want anyone else to touch you."

Oh.

-

Mark didn’t know what love was.

Not in the way humans did.

But he knew that whenever he was near you, his chest felt lighter. That when you laughed, something warm spread through him. That when you weren’t around, he felt restless.

And when someone even looked at you the wrong way, he had to physically restrain himself from acting on pure, primal instinct.

So, one night—he just asked.

"What does it mean when you want to keep someone?"

You blinked. "What?"

"When you don’t want anyone else near them. When you think about them constantly. When their happiness makes your chest feel—" he paused, searching for the word, "—lighter."

Your heart stopped.

Slowly, you set your drink down. "Mark…"

He stared at you, waiting. Expectant. Hopeful.

"You’re describing love," you whispered.

Something in his expression shifted.

For a long time, he didn’t say anything. Then, finally—he reached for your hand.

His grip was gentle. Careful.

Like he had already decided.

"Then, I love you."

And just like that—you were ruined.

[yujisdreamgirl]

husband!nanami who is also the father of your 2 children. dated for 6 years and married for 3–you couldn’t ask for anything more.

husband!nanami who is visibly confused during a conversation he had with his colleagues.

nanami usually avoids the break room whilst it was crowded. unfortunately, on a rare day that he’s forgotten to pick up his coffee from his favourite café, he had to walk into a break room full of a bunch of his coworkers talking about their children’s birthdays. they immediately turn to nanami who was standing in the corner and involved him in the conversation.

“it’s my daughter’s birthday soon. yeah i’m probably getting her one of those dolls and shit—she’s turning 5.” the suited up man takes a sip out of his coffee.

nanami nods apprehensively, wishing to leave the room already. “that’s nice. what are you getting for your wife?” he asks.

“what?” all four of his coworkers turned to look at him, and suddenly it felt like an episode of The Voice.

“…don’t you get your wife a gift when it’s your children’s birthdays??” the only time nanami is ever confused is when he does crossword puzzles. this.. is a whole different level.

his coworkers laugh at the absurd statement, some scoff and one pats nanami on the back.

—

nanami drives back home from work but he was more quiet than usual. he would typically turn the radio on and tap his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat. the car however was dead silent.

“who doesn’t give their wife a gift..? tch.”

“do these young men even love their wives anymore? eugh.”

“y/n always seems really happy when i give her gifts on the girls’ birthday.. i can’t imagine not giving her any.”

—

he arrives home and parks in the garage, sighing and cracking his back before bursting through the door.

“i’m h—” before he could finish his sentence, his 3-year-old twin girls came running to hug him.

“daddy! daddy! you’re home!” they giggle and cling onto his legs as nanami leans over to place his hand on your back and kiss your lips. “hello my darlings,” he smiles.

“you’re home early.”

“just missed my girls a lot.”

—

it’s 11pm. the kids are asleep and you’ve done your skincare, the night lamp on as you lay in bed with your husband.

as you snuggle under the sheets, you suddenly feel big arms snake around your torso. you giggle and pull them closer to you before deciding to turn around and face the man beside you. you lay your head on his chest and he immediately caresses your back.

“my love?” nanami speaks up.

“yeeeees?” you sing. he holds you tighter now, before uttering: “you know how i give you a gift for the girls’ birthday?”

you smile softly at the memory—how could you forget? every birthday for three years, he always manages to surprise you with a gift. he treasures the day dearly. it’s your daughters’ birthday but it’s your birth-day.

“i just found out that not every father does that. at least.. my coworkers don’t.” you look up at him now, seeing his scrunched eyebrows and solemn pout—you can already tell it bothers him. “it’s absurd, isn’t it? what do you think?”

you hum, your eyes never leaving his expression. “to be honest, i’ve never witnessed someone do what you do. it’s not exactly common practice,”

nanami sighs, “i guess you’re right. i just love you so much, you know? i’ll keep showing my appreciation on the day that means a lot to me, to us. it’s the day we became a family and i.. i want to make sure you know how important you are, too.” his voice is soft, as though he's been carrying this thought for a while. you blink, the weight of his words settling in your chest. he doesn't say it often, but when he does, it’s clear he means every syllable.

a small laugh escapes you, touched by his sincerity. “i know, baby. and i’m thankful for it, for you.”

he presses a kiss to your forehead, his arms tightening around you as if he’s trying to hold on to the moment. “me too, darling. more than you’ll ever know.”

͙͘͡★ dividers by @bernardsbendystraws & @cafekitsune 👔

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Thoughts on the “E”?!

Hey Nonnie

Oh I have many thoughts on the ‘E’ on the bomber jacket!! @lover-of-mine and I have been talking about it and doing some research to find out when it first appeared and if anyone else has letters on their jackets.

I can confirm that no one else appears to have a letter on their jackets, so this is a Buck exclusive thing. That in and of itself is important and revealing - it means it’s intentional and relevant in some way.

As you can see above - nothing on Bobby or Hens jackets in this up coming episode.

As for its first appearing - well - the bomber jackets have been part of the uniform since the crossover episode with Lonestar - back at the beginning of season 4. There is no ‘E’ on the jacket we see buck in during that episode. I’ve messed around with the brightness to make it easier to see on most of these screen grabs, so ignore the slightly weird colouring!

After that - we see the bomber a couple of times in season 4 and it bears no ‘E’ - this is a still from 411!

The same in season 5 - the bomber appears a few times and there’s never an ’E’ present on the sleeve, this is a still from 511.

It’s the same through season 6 - the bomber is worn but there is no ‘E’.

Then we get to season 7 and things start to get interesting! Below is a still from 701 - no ‘E’ is on his sleeve here.

But when we get to 704 - oh hi there ‘E’ you’ve decided to appear - in a scene that kickstarts Bucks bi arc, and from then on - the ‘E’ is present on bucks jacket sleeve!

Right up to the next episode!

As for what the ‘E’ means and the significance of its connection into Bucks bi arc. Well I have a couple of theories.

The fact that no one else has a letter on their sleeve means it’s not about his name - so it’s not meant to represent Evan in any way - if it was I would expect a ‘H’ on Hens and on Chim’s, and an ‘R’ on Bobbys and Ravi’s and to have seen an E on Eddie’s (I’ve just realised that we have two names for each letter as I typed this out - which is very fun!)

So that leaves us with it having a different meaning. Buck as a character is someone who tends to wear his heart on his sleeve and so it’s a fair thing to come to the conclusion that it’s connected to that idea of his heart being on his sleeve. It’s also his left arm - which is important in connection with the red string of fate which is supposed to run from your heart down your left arm and connect to your lover or family etc through your left hand.

So buck having an ‘E’ there can only really mean one thing - Eddie. There’s literally no one else it could conceivably be linked to. So in my opinion (and if that makes me a clown then I am a clown and I’m prepared to die on this hill) it’s been put there at the start of 704 to very subtly inform the audience that Buck is misunderstanding the assignment yet again and misdirecting his feelings for Eddie onto Tommy. It’s a way of telling the audience that we are correct in our opinion that it’s all about Eddie and not about Tommy at all.

Nothing else makes sense to me, it can’t be an allergy information thing, it’s not a brand thing or everyone would have an ‘E’. I guess there’s a vague possibility that is signalling where emergency information is located for Buck, but that seems very unlikely.

So in summary it’s metaphorically buck wearing his heart on his sleeve and his heart is Eddie shaped! I also expect that him wearing a jacket on the job with this ‘E’ on in this episode is very intentional - playing into bucks sense of loss over Eddie leaving and his heartbreak - even if he can’t recognise it for what it is.

I’d love to hear if anyone else has any theories on its appearance and meaning m, and there is plenty of room in the clown car if anyone wants to join Anna and I in this theory🤓💜💜

[loversrocktvgirl2]

never gonna get bored of this…

as someone who has seen both movies and is lowk obsessed with both, the contrast is amazing to me

one, he’s looking at a guy he hired to pretend to be the guy that this girl he’s in love with thinks is meant for her

two, he’s looking skeptically at nick fury and telling him he doesn’t want to be in his super secret boy band

i can’t decide which is more iconic 💕

another era, same diva

[rafes-slut]

FIRST of all love u writing!! and request reader flashing reader in the mid of the argument! thanks babes!

Push My Buttons

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Toxic dynamics, heated argument, sexual tension, teasing, flashing, language, suggestive content, possessiveness, unresolved tension, slight manhandling, mature themes.

You were toe-to-toe with Rafe the air thick with tension so sharp it could cut. The house was silent except for your voices, both raised and laced with venom, bouncing off the walls like gunfire.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m some fucking idiot, Rafe,” you spat, arms crossed, the heat burning under your skin like fire.

Rafe let out a sharp, humorless laugh, his eyes dark with anger—and something else you couldn’t quite place. “Then stop acting like one,” he snapped back, taking a step closer. “You’re running your mouth, and for what? Because I didn’t answer your text fast enough? Grow the hell up.”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, the king of tantrums,” you shot back, refusing to give him the satisfaction of stepping back. You knew how to push his buttons—and God, today you were in the mood to set him off. “Don’t dish it if you can’t take it, pretty boy.”

His jaw clenched at the nickname, eyes narrowing. “Don’t fucking call me that right now.”

You grinned, despite the rage brewing between you two. “Why not? You hate it, right?” you taunted, taking a deliberate step toward him now, your eyes locked with his. “Or is it because you like it and you don’t know how to handle that?”

Rafe’s hand flexed at his side like he was holding himself back. “You’re asking for it.”

You felt the pulse of power in that moment, the shift in control. The argument still burned hot in your chest, but the heat had twisted, mixed with something else entirely. You leaned back against the kitchen counter, arms now lazily resting at your sides, your smirk not budging.

“Am I?” you asked, eyes trailing over his tense posture, the way his chest rose and fell rapidly beneath his fitted shirt. You knew exactly what you were doing. “What if I am, Rafe? What’re you gonna do about it?”

He stalked closer like a storm, his height casting a shadow over you, but you didn’t flinch. Instead, with your heart pounding, you reached for the hem of your tank top. Slowly. Deliberately. His eyes locked on your hands, watching, waiting.

And then you did it. In one quick motion, you pulled it up, flashing him—bare chest, no bra, skin on full display for just a second before you dropped the shirt back down.

The silence that followed was deafening.

His face went blank for half a beat. His breath hitched, the air thick and electric. Then his jaw set like stone, eyes ablaze as he stared at you, wide and dark, like he was trying to decide between wrecking you with his words—or with his hands.

“What the fuck was that?” he growled, voice low and dangerous.

You tilted your head innocently, biting back a smug smile. “What? I thought you liked distractions. You don’t seem too mad anymore.”

In a blink, he grabbed your waist, pushing you up against the counter, his grip bruising but not enough to hurt—just enough to own. His face was so close, you could feel his breath on your lips.

“You think this is a game?” he asked, voice tight, eyes searching yours like he was trying not to lose it completely.

“Maybe,” you whispered, lips brushing his, your voice soft but laced with challenge. “You gonna play or just keep talking?”

Rafe’s hand slid up your side, gripping your hip like it was the only thing anchoring him. His other hand dragged your shirt up again, just enough to expose what he wanted to see—what you had given him. He didn’t even look down; his eyes never left yours, filled with fury, want, and a thousand things unspoken.

“You don’t get to start shit you can’t finish,” he growled, teeth grazing your jaw as he backed you fully against the counter.

You smirked, heart hammering against your ribs. “Who said I can’t finish it?”

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Beyond Misconceptions

summary: joaquin is usually the poster child for positivity, but sometimes the doubt creeps in.

pairing: joaquin torres x f!reader

contents: angst, jealous/insecure!joaquin, arguing, depictions of anxiety

wc: 1,675

an: based on this requested concept! it went a bit different than expected but i hope yall still enjoy <3 (and also hope it will hold yall over until vuelve pt. v is done!!!)

danny ramirez characters masterlist

Most of the time, Joaquin loves his job. He loves the brother he’s found in Sam, the tangible way he sees himself helping people day in and day out. The feeling of soaring through the sky, the invincibility that he seems to find in the wind.

But, what Joaquin doesn’t love about the job is the rift that it can sometimes create between you. One could say he’s being dramatic by using the word rift— you have never once complained, never made him feel guilty for the unpredictability of his schedule.

You always tell him that you know what you signed up for when you fell in love with him. And you do.

Joaquin is certainly grateful for your love and understanding, but it’s days like today that make him want to find some 9-5 to nurse.

When he steps into the party you two were meant to attend together an hour and a half late, he’s eager to see you. That eagerness twists into something ugly when he sees you. You, standing in a group, but primarily talking to some guy he doesn’t recognize.

You look…happy. Happy to be talking with a guy who showed up on time. With a guy who doesn’t put his life on the line, and your relationship on hold at the drop of a hat.

He can’t decide what he wants to do more— leave and let you be happy or put himself between you and this mystery guy.

As if you can feel him, you glance over in his direction, lighting up at the sight of him. That restless mix of jealousy and guilt fades a little with you so excited to see him.

“Quino,” You call to him, waving him over. When he makes it to you, you reach for his hand immediately, drawing him so that you can place a kiss on his cheek. “Made in one piece, I see, cariño.”

“Siempre lo hago,” he murmurs, snaking an arm around your waist. “So who’s this?”

You introduce Joaquin to the guy easily, slipping him into the conversation without missing a beat. Paul. Joaquin nods along, lets you pull him closer, listens as you chat, and laughs like nothing is wrong. Like he wasn’t late. Like you weren’t having a perfectly good time without him.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you. He does. It’s just that tonight feels like a reminder of everything he isn’t—someone who shows up on time, someone whose job doesn’t put you second. And maybe it’s stupid, maybe it doesn’t matter, but it still twists something sharp in his chest.

His grip tightens just slightly on your waist. You glance up at him, brows furrowing in quiet question, but he just shakes his head, forcing a small smile. You don’t push, but something in your gaze lingers. You know him too well. You always do.

You’re driving the two of you home, music spilling softly out of the speaker when you decide to break the tension that’s been building.

“So what was that?”

“What was what?”

“You were being…possessive?” The word comes out of your mouth like a question because you’re not entirely sure. Nothing like this has ever happened with Joaquin— it’s unfamiliar territory.

“Claro que no,” he insists.

You have to force yourself not to roll your eyes. “Yeah, because that wasn’t defensive at all.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Your eyes flicker over at him momentarily, and you soften at his visible tension. You’re gentler when you speak again, “Soy yo, Quino. We don’t lie to each other, we don’t do this… jealous thing that you did tonight. I don’t know that guy, I probably won’t ever see him again and I’m fine with that.”

“It wasn’t about that.”

“Oh, but it was about something? What could I have possibly done when I hadn’t seen you in days?”

“Querida— you didn’t do anything— it’s not… I don’t know what you want me to say.”

You purse your lips, feeling a little frustrated. “I want you to tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours. And if you can’t now, then think about it and we’ll talk about it before bed. Deal?”

The silence stretches between you, the music sounding much louder in the wake of your breaths.

Eventually, Joaquin says begrudgingly, “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

“What do you want?”

“You,” He says softly, and nothing more.

—

Once you and Joaquin get home, you don’t push. You refuse to when he’s being so elusive, so guarded in a way he’s never been. You aren’t really sure what to do with it and it makes your stomach churn. You make your way straight to the shower without so much of a glance in his direction.

Joaquin wants to call after you, but can’t find his voice. Not a surprise when he feels his mind is completely scrambled.

All of this has tilted you off your axis. You make sure the water is scalding hot, hoping that the steam will steep out your thoughts of insecurity and unease. By the time you make it out, it just feels like they’ve grown louder, rooting deeper into your brain stem.

You make your way into the kitchen, walking past Joaquin where he’s sat on the couch. He watches you quietly as you make tea, unsure if you still want to talk or if he’s created the catalyst for his worst fear; losing you.

“So are we gonna talk about it or are you gonna keep staring at me?”

“Mi amor—“

You huff as you sit the chair across from him, “No, don’t mi amor me when you won’t even tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s not that I won’t, it’s that—“

“If you say you can’t, Joaquin, te juro por Dios.”

“I was gonna say that I’m struggling to figure out how. There’s too much up here, you know that. Usually, it’s just cheery.”

“I’m not asking you to be cheery, I’m asking you to be honest.”

Joaquin sighs, leaning forward to place his face in his hands. “When I saw you with him, I just— it made me wonder if you deserve better than me.”

Your brow furrows. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Sure it does.”

“Enlighten me.”

“You’re in a relationship with a man you’re going to outlive. I’m never home, I’m always late as hell. Every day I force you to wait— for me or for a call that’ll break your heart. Don’t you think you deserve somebody that can be there for you? Someone, you aren’t afraid of losing every damn day?”

“I knew what I was getting into when I chose to start this with you. I know that you want to be around and be more consistent, but Quino, you’re out there saving the world. I can’t ask you to put down your dreams because you missed the first hour of a party.”

“I‘ve missed more than just an hour of a party. What happens when it’s our wedding? Or if you get sick? What if you need me and I miss something big? That guy, he could give you that.”

You lean forward, reaching across the coffee table to place your hand over his. “Then we’ll reschedule. Or my parents will take care of me. Or I’ll need you and I’ll be really sad that you’re not there but eventually, you will be. I don’t give a fuck about that guy. I don’t even remember his name. What I do remember, is how much I love you and how long it took me to have the courage to tell you that.”

Joaquin looks down at your hands before interlacing your fingers together. Your words soothe him even as he wrestles with the fact that he wants to give you more. He’ll try to give you more— you deserve it and so does the health of your relationship.

“Are you sure?”

“Are you?” you challenge, wanting him to truly think about it.

There are things about your relationship with Joaquin that are less than ideal and certainly compromise but that’s part of love. Compromising and making things work with the people that you love. Joaquin is loyal, loving, and tender; he always makes you laugh and takes your feelings seriously. He just happens to be a superhero, one you have to share with the world.

How selfish would it be to take him away from people that need him?

He squeezes your hand reassuringly, “I’m sure. ¿Me dirás si algo cambia?”

“Lo prometo.”

Joaquin leans back into the couch, patting his lap, “Ven.”

You quickly make your way to sit in his lap, wrapping both your arms around his neck as you let your legs dangle across the couch.

“Te amo, princesa.”

“I know, I love you too,” you murmur, running a hand affectionately through his hair.

Joaquin’s eyes fall to your lips, and when he finally leans in, his mouth brushes yours softly, a quiet promise that everything will be okay. His thumb traces your cheek, and it feels like all the unsaid words are finally spoken in the wax and wane of this gentle kiss. You close your eyes, grounding yourself in the feeling of him, of home. As he pulls back slightly, his forehead rests against yours, his breath shaky, and you both linger there, knowing that in this moment, everything is enough.

After several moments of silence, Joaquin’s lips find your ear, “Paul.”

You lean away from where you’d gotten comfortable on his chest to look at him quizzically. “What?”

“The guy’s name— fucking Paul.”

You laugh, shaking the both of you. “I’ve already forgotten again. I’m more focused on this marriage you’ve mentioned.”

“I’m thinking under the cherry blossoms.”

“You should think about the blow your bank account is gonna take getting me a ring.”

Joaquin raises a brow at you, “Who says I don’t already have it, hermosa?”

You squint at him— usually, you’re pretty good at telling if he’s bluffing but his features are smoothed into the perfect poker face. “You lying?”

“Guess you’ll just have to find out, baby.”

lmk if you'd like to be on the sfw (or nsfw for 18+) joaquin taglist!

sfw joaquin taglist: @magikdarkholme, @plan3t-plut0, @mewmew222, @linnygirl09, @ezhz444, @karmaswitch, @badbishsblog, @glader13, @how2besalty, @happypopcornprincess, @hiireadstuffsometimes, @lisiliely, @spider-steve, @nolita-fairytale, @hrlzy, @faretheeoscar, @giuliahowlett, @abriefnirvana, @fanboyswhore9 , @sidkneeeee, @sophreakingfunny, @heartbreakgirlism, @peachyxlynch, @lomlbuckybarnes, @a-randomscrub, @ajcs150, @glimodejun, @isuckatmath, @arsonhotchner, @moonymeloncholymoney

[dabratzchronicles]

Tick

Aaron Pierre as Terry Richmond

You as Yourself

Summary: It's Terry birthday! While he is out with his homeboys, you decide to send him a video you made, but what happens when the reaction you get is something you never expected?

Warnings: Nasty Shit, You are able to be picked up, dry humping, P IN V, size kink, established relationship, kind of possessiveness? you'll see why.

A/N: Yall, *fans myself* I love being a whore omg. I hope yll enjoy this as much as I did and as of rn? I need to change my panties

A/N2: be on the look out, I got some shit cooking up that'll make your coochie beat many miles a min!

A/N3: IMMA READ YALL SHIT TMR! I SEEN SOME SHIT IN THIS TAGGG HUNNYYYY and shoutout to the lady who inspired us to toss this man around 😏 love you megan! @megamindsecretlair

You stopped your recording and giggled, All that booty in the pants and it moves like water, Oh how jealous these other bitches should be. You edited the video to your liking and pondered for a second, who should be the first person to be blessed with such beauty within a video. 

Terry, Obviously!

If there’s anything that man wouldn’t do, is hype you up like like he is not a 6’4 lightskin with the body of a bodyguard, like guarding the president type shit. But what people don’t really understand is under all that tough man act, he is a big softie down under. A classic textbook example of a pitbull. All big and scary bark bark rawr rawr until you’re their favorite human and they won't leave you alone, you can’t count on each hand how many times Terry wanted you to be the big spoon, and he is your emergency contact. 

You scrolled and scrolled and searched for his name until you finally found it, your thumb hovering over the send button. 

A part of you didn’t want to send him the video, you thought you were feral but that man? Puts your thoughts to shame, for the most part. 

But gee that man loves your body, love each curve that sat, the cellulite he would trace when you two watched something on tubi, your face that he would cup every now and then and you would melt each time, getting lost in his ocean eyes as he would get lost studying your features, as if you were his Mona Lisa, his prized possession, painted and crafted so perfectly, That nigga Leo Da Vinichi aint got shit on you.

You mustered all your strength to press the send button, the loading bar at the top made your stomach flip and turn like the Gymnastic Olympics. These lil fuckers are giving it all its might. 

Your phone buzzed with a sound, You knew it was Terry but it still scared the dog shit outta you, it also didn’t help that you are high. 

Looking down to see what he said, you felt a sigh of relief, it was only a notification that he loved the video. But an eerie feeling came behind that, it's no way he would just love a video. A video like that? He’d be telling you that he would be seeing you very soon and you would be covering your face giggling with excitement as he would stop everything and come home.

He didn’t do that tho, weird.

You brushed it off, He is with his homeboys enjoying his birthday, you already gave him his gift of flowers and a teddy bear that had a cute little MCMAP shirt on it along with a poem of how much you loved him, you agreed on the no sex part until after he got home because he wanted to, he would be home possibly trying to trap you in the house for the summer, and you promised this summer was gonna be one for the fuckin books! 

You stretched your legs out, and your knees were fuckin killing you like Terry gave you one free ticket to pound town too rough. But you felt sexy! That damn SiR and TeaMarr know how to throw down onna song. But fuck that shit. It's time to enjoy your time without Terry for once. 

You walked with a twist around the house, bouncing like a lady on the moon to the beat of the song, the sensuality flowing happily in the air as the airwaves of Say Yes by Floetry carried you lovely. 

In the midst of getting lost in the song. A thought flew into your head, Where the fuck is Terry and that was the million-dollar question for right now, it's been an hour since you last sent the video and he just loved it after that? Silence. Did his homeboys see the video? Did he not like it? That’s silly, you know he loved it, but why love it? Were You thinking too hard on this and need to enjoy your night? 

The answer is yes. He knows where home is. 

Your cute pink headphones sat highly above your head, the right side is being a fucking bitch right now. You adjusted it so it could sit better, covering your ear fully. Better.

You walked away from the kitchen and autopiloted to the living room to see what you could watch on Netflix, they added a ton of shit on there, you just might watch that movie about the ex-military getting done dirty and getting his biggest getback, taking down the whole damn station. What was that fuckin movie called? 

You didn’t even take 3 full steps before you got swept off your feet, but not scared because you knew it was Terry. Who did you know that can pick up all that good woman?! Not a naan fuckin soul!

Terry took his hands and raised you from under your armpits, you jumped a bit to wrap your arms around his neck, his cologne swallowing your nose whole, inhaling every ounce of it. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he corrected his arms from your pits to your waist, his lips then began to tackle your neck, tickling your every so often. “Hey, Mufasa.” You giggled, “I can’t hear! My Headphones.” 

Terry lifts his head and tilts it back, His nostrils flared as air blows at you, sending you into a giggle fit. Looking at you still, He mouthed ‘Take them off’ to which you then protested that your shit was on! You couldn’t take them off and at least let the song finish. He reached into your pocket to slide your phone out, a few swipes, the music switched to the surround sound in the living room. That Meanie!

You yanked your headphones off in a fit, tossing them on the couch. His smile grew wide, “Hey Big Mama. I seen what you sent.” 

“And I seen what you did, you loved it.” You sassed, “You're supposed to hype me up!” 

“You hyped something else up.” He said, his head snuggled in the crook of your neck. Biting your flesh softly in new spots. 

“Oh, you slut!” You teased, “I’m high and wanted to watch Netflix.” 

He cocked his head back. “Girl, you are my woman.” He said, walking away with you firmly secure in his grasp. “And that Netflix shit dead. I need my dance and I need it now.” 

You both laughed goofyly as he walked you both into the room you two shared. He tapped you twice, a signal to unlock your legs. You swung your legs to prepare yourself for the carpet underneath. Terry unbuttoned his mustard-like shirt, exposing his chest and his abs, you brought your bottom lip to bite on it, squeezing your legs together to suppress the heartbeat in between your legs.

He tugged at your basketball shorts, looking you in your eyes with a smirk. “My first request is this? Need to be off.” 

“Wait! I got on granny panties! Can I at least switc-“ 

“Mamas, I don’t give a fuck about your Grandmother’s Underwear, See I'll make it better for you. I'll take my pants off.” 

Excuse you?! How does anything top granny panties? Unless it's tidy whities, what can possibly be more embarrassing than that?

Terry read you like a book, somehow seeing what you were saying in your head. He unbuckled his belt, making a ‘fwip’ sound at how quickly he took it off. He grabbed your hand and placed it on his pants hook. “I’ll let you do the honors.” 

With one hand, you unhooked his pants, swinging your other arm around to pulled them down to his ankles, to which, you busted out with laughter. This nigga got Freddy Kruger boxers on. You genuinely couldn’t contain yourself as you were hunched over holding your stomach, doing breathing techniques to get serious about this. You have to give a lap dance! Get it together! 

Terry stepped out of his pants and kicked them to the side, shaking your phone in his hand, reminding you that he had it. “Now. May I please get this dance?” he asked, planting his butt in the armchair that sat beside the bed. “I don’t know, my pants is stuck, I need a biggg stronggg birthday boy to help me take them off.” You pestered him, grabbing your phone out of his hands to switch the audio output from the surround sound in the living room to the one in the room. His hands snaked into your shorts, covering each of your cheeks as he kneaded your ass like fresh dough, You moaned into the air as he worked his fingers into each kink and knot, your warmness expanding more throughout your body. 

You leaned forward a bit, lost in the massage you caught yourself, and your hand flew to his shoulder. “If you gonna take these bitches off just do it!” You pouted, almost sick of the massage but shit, when was the next time you were going to get one like this? 

“They already off, You just bullshittin’ with these navy blue undies.” What?

Your LaLa bubble popped and your head zapped down to see that he really took them off. Without you knowing… This man, He a sneaky lil critter. This is exactly what the fuck you get for getting with an MCMAP nigga.

You turned around to face away from him. “I have to pick a song! and It's Not gonna be the one you heard.” Terry groaned at your words but your lips ran silently as you talked to yourself, What would be the best song for right now? What makes you feel the most sexy, gives you the confidence to give Mr Handsome a dance he may never forget? Come on brain. You have to think of- Aha! Click!

That's Why I Love You by SiR ft Sabrina Claudio, gently rang out, tossing the phone on the bed, you mentally prepared yourself, Let the music swallow you whole, be engulfed by it, let it determine your night. 

You swayed your hip to one side, winding up your snaps until your hands reached the top of your head. Keeping the beat in your hips until the beat changes, you then move both hips, relaxing your muscles and letting Mary Jane drive the boat. Rolling your lower half like a belly dancer, tossing your hair to one side as you looked back at Terry, his eyes never leaving your ass, the hill in his boxers gave you a one-tier boost in your head.

You inched closer to him, bending forward a little, sitting directly on his bulge, you moaned with your mouth closed, using your lower half to spell the words: ‘I Love You’ Backwards and Forwards. 

“Fuck,” He groaned, The feeling of your pussy and his dick rubbing on each other and not going in was killing him. And you knew that shit, which is why you prolonged it. Like the sneaky little devil you are. 

You lifted yourself and slammed down gently, not too hard as to it would kill the mood, but just enough force to take him by surprise. You dipped your body down, gripping his ankles, you twerked on him, imitating the video, Life imitates art they say, Ain't no art better than the real thing.

He placed both of his hands on your hips, keeping you steady and pausing your movements, Rude. You felt him rub his print up and down your sopping clothed lips. 

“Stay like this, please.” He moaned, his whimpers powered you but you didn’t dare to disobey. You let him hump you, using your body any way he wanted to use it. That’s Why You Loved Him, and all his nastiness. 

Terry went into a twitching fit, his moans grew louder, the curses under his breath spat out quickly, his grip tightening on your hips, a thought snuck in your head and it might get you fucked up. 

You threw your left leg over the arm of the armchair, twerking slowly on him until you felt the warmth of his cum shooting out but not going anywhere. “That’s It.” You dragged your words, a long guttural moan came from him afterward. “That’s my gooddd boy.” 

Terry laughed from behind you. You let go of his ankles to raise your body, moving your hair out of the way. Terry grinned, lifting his hand towards your neck. “I bet not— ever Find out you giving a nother nigga this kinda dance. Not even yo homegirls can get it, This shit for me and me only.” 

“You territorial ass nigga.” you joked, his hand guiding your head to his, “I mean it,” His breath tickled your lips. “I need all this to me. Or else Big Mama ain't gone be able to walk.” 

“Im tryna have that happen now-” You didn’t even get to finish the sentence, a squeal finished it for you as he picked up again, tossing you on the bed, the pillows and the unmade bed cushioned your landing. You flipped around to a pleasant surprise. Terry and his Mini Him standing and dancing. “At ease.” you poked fun at him. “I have to take off my stuff as well.” 

“I can always rip em.” He said

“If you rip these, you're buying me new ones.” 

“Well,” He thought for a second, only for a second though, his arms shot out as he tore the fabric like it was nothing. What monster did you create tonight? All you did was send a video. “I always wanted to buy you lingerie, Think of it as a head start.”

Lewd sounds escaped from your mouth as you watched him toss your now-torn undies into the trash. That shit was kinda hot, almost made you want to wear them before getting cracked to get the same results. 

He climbed on the bed resting his back on the black headboard, gripping his dick with a sneer, giving it a few strokes, teasing you with it right in front of your face. 

You smiled at Terry, the sight was too beautiful to fuck up, but way too beautiful to not get a piece of. You crawled to him with your ass wiggling in the air like a cat, as you got closer to him, the Mahogany scent grew stronger, the beast inside you getting more eager to finally be let out.

You reached him, placing kisses on his collarbone all the way up to his ear where you whispered, “Want me to recreate the video?” Taking over his hand, jerking him off with your thumb circling his tip. 

He breathed out a quick yes before his head dropped down, resisting the urge to cum all over your hands, your soft hands gripping his dick had him singing sweet faint moans. You rested your other hand on the headboard, pointing his dick upwards, letting go of it to lick your hand, fuck, You miss the way he tasted, You can see why he gets such pleasure sucking on his fingers after eating you out. 

You align yourself with him, his tip brushes against your clit, your body twitches in response. You sat on it halfway, you both gasping cutely. “Fuck,” you underestimated how much you could take, his dick already made itself comfortable, filling you up deliciously. 

“Come on Big Mama.” He groaned, noticing that you have already hit your limit of dick. “I know you can take more than that.” 

“But you’re too big.” You dragged out your words.

“Oh, Come on,” he started to tease you as he slightly pushed you down on him, making you gasp a little bit.

“You know you can take all of it, what was all that shit you was doing in that video?” you looked down at him as you locked eyes, then quickened your pace. “There she is, There’s my princess.” He groaned and grunted at you squeezing him. “Taking all this dick, I wish you knew how pretty you looked taking all of me.” You smiled at him, gaining enough confidence to bounce on him, making your ass clap with each collision you made with his body. 

He moaned so beautifully that had you clenching around him, grabbing his hand to place it around your throat, he already knew what to do as he gripped your throat not applying too much pressure, but just enough to still feel pleasurable. 

“Shit,” He whines, his eyes squeezed shut, you held on to his arm as you slowed down your pace, taking your time with it but it was killing you. And it was killing him too. 

“Why are you fuckin me like this? Fuck this pussy so good.” 

“Because you deserve it, birthday boy. I love you, baby.” You said, planting kisses on his sweaty head and face, smiling at the putty of a man you made. 

“I love you too, And I’m sorry.” 

You didn’t get to question him, his arm wrapped around you as he pounded you from underneath, taking you by surprise. Terry pounded you senselessly, creating waves with each smack that landed on your asscheeks, it was too much too bare. 

“Oh fuck, Im bout to cum!” You announced, fucking him back as your body began to shake vigorously, thanking god you didnt have nails on or it would be guaranteed that it would be four little indents on one side and one on the other. 

Moans filled up the room as the squelching was drowned out by your screaming. You black out momentarily, collapsing on Terry’s body, his shoulder becomes your headrest as your body halts production. 

When you came to, all you saw was braids, his braids, Earth to you, Gather the strength and get up hoe! 

“Happy Birthday, Pretty Eyes.” 

“Thank You, But I’m not done yet.” he breathed, wrapping his other arm around you as he picked you up, still inside you, he bounced to the bathroom. “I need to clean off after round 2!” 

You snickered at him, squirming under his grasp. Who knows what would happen in the shower? All you knew? You truly weren’t going to be able to walk tomorrow. 

Not even to buy new panties to replace the ones he ripped like an animal. 

Fin🌺 

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[bluebellhairpin]

Sanji Vinsmoke X Fem!Reader

Summary: Sanji takes his job as cook on the Going Merry very seriously, and seeing as he has yet to discover what you enjoy eating, he makes finding out his top priority. Lucky for Sanji, Luffy lends a hand. (a.k.a, reader has a complicated relationship with food, and Sanji finds a way to help fix it.) (wc. 2.8K)

Warnings: Food, food, more food (possibly a ED warning needed). They make out in the end :) Reader has she/her pronouns + fem bodied +tragic backstory.

Listening to: 'clementine' by Halsey - "Left my shoes in the street, so you'd carry me, through a breakdown. Through a breakdown or a blackout, would you make out with me on the floor of the mezzanine?"

Masterlist || AO3 link

To Sanji Vinsmoke you were an enigma, and it was driving him half mad trying to figure you out. Sanji had figured out everyone else in Luffy’s crew fairly quickly. In regards to food that is.

Luffy loves meat, Nami has her tangerines, etcetera and so forth. But you? He barely saw you finish a single plate of food, let alone go back for more - or forbid look like you were enjoying eating at all. Sanji’s whole life revolved around food, and he wasn’t going to have someone he decided to care for so deeply dislike it so much.

His stare pinned you to your seat at the kitchen table, fingers tapping the wood as he ran through the list in his head to find something new to try your tastes at.

“You’re really sure you don’t like tangerines? They’re in season at the moment.” Sanji watched your face form into a grimace, teeth bearing as you sucked air into your mouth.

“Not really. Sorry.” He waved his hand, shooing away your worry like swatting a fly. His thoughts wandered again before speaking after a few long moments of silence.

“Your not liking seafood feels like a crime.” he mumbled. As he looked at you he saw your eyes flicker to the side.

“I’ll eat it, I just can’t say it’s my favourite.” you said.

“You’re just saying that.” he smiled, “I saw your face screw up the first time Zoro had a poor attempt at making sashimi.”

“It wasn’t that bad!” You sat up, ready to defend yourself from Sanji’s interrogation. “I’m just not used to eating raw fish!”

“He can’t make it like I do.” he said softly. You looked into his eyes and he had to hold himself back from sighing dreamily.

Sanji, besides believing food shouldn’t be wasted, loved seeing people who needed to eat happy with what they ate. You worried him, since it had been weeks and yet you’d never expressed such approval. You never even went back for seconds - which obviously was on his mind more than he’d ever admit. He tried so hard to find something you’d like, and hadn’t yet. He wondered how happy you’d look when he finally found out what you liked. How your pretty eyes might light up, or how you might finally bless him with a real toothy grin instead of a shy smile.

He almost sighed again at the thought of how beautiful it would be.

“You care a lot about food, don’t you?” your voice was quiet, but it cut through Sanji’s thoughts like a knife. He watched your face soften. “You don’t have to answer. I can tell.”

He watched you, the way you took a deep breath and how it shifted your shoulders. Then you stood, and came around the table. You hand rested inches from his, and he knew he shouldn’t want to hold your hand as badly as he did. He wondered if your fingers were soft or calloused, felt hot or cold. He wanted to hold your hand so badly, but he didn’t.

“You don’t have to care so much about me, Sanji. I’ll eat whatever’s put in front of me, whether I like it or not.”

Your words made him frown, and he watched you turn and leave. Something about your words left him feeling an immeasurable amount of sadness. He once said women were mysteries to be unravelled slowly, you were the slowest he’d come across. You sounded so sad when you spoke, as if resolved to a fate you never wanted.

It made him scared to uncover what possibly happened to you to resign like that, and sad to think about how different you might be now if you hadn’t gone through it. Clearly, you had gone through something, or someone, to make you so uncaring for something many people found joy in.

He decided then that he would help fix it. Sanji would bring joy back into your life through food.

Calm, quiet nights on the Going Merry were a favourite of yours. The sea was still, the salt sat lightly in the air, and the sky was so clear you could see stars no matter which direction you looked. It was peaceful. Carefree. On nights like these you could clear your head, spread out your thoughts like photos on the floor and organise them one by one.

You kept nights like these a secret because you knew if someone found you and got you talking that you’d keep no more secrets. With your vulnerability laid bare before you it was also laid bare to anyone who came by. Doing this small ritual late at night meant no one ever had seen it. Tonight changed that.

A hand reached at the railing inches from your face, and a wide grin soon followed. Someone had found you.

“You trying to scare me into a heart attack Luffy?” His grin softened at your nonchalant reply.

“I don’t believe I really scared you with how you’re reacting.”

“My heart’s beating right out of my chest, really it is captain. You should feel it.” You said, watching him climb over the railing and sit down beside you. His quietness while doing so was unusual. “You don’t usually come up here.”

“I wanted to ask you something -”

‘Here we go,’ you thought, rolling your eyes.

“- You gave your dinner to Ussop tonight. Distracted him by getting him to tell a story then put your plate in front of him so he wouldn’t notice. But I did.” he said. Luffy looked across at you, his hat rested around his neck by its drawstring. Without the hat he looked more serious - that paired with the genuine concern in his eyes and your own aforementioned vulnerability was dangerous.

“Why did you do that?” You looked at him, and he looked back at you. You sighed.

“Before dinner he said he was starving.” you said, “After he finished eating I gave him mine so he didn’t have to get up.”

“You need to eat too. He says that all the time, it’s just a joke.”

You sighed. Your arms rested across the banister of the crows rest, and your chin now nestled on top of them. When you spoke again your voice was soft, and you didn’t look back at Luffy.

“It’s not a joke to me.” From the corner of your eye you saw his position mirror yours, and his legs slowly started swinging from where they dangled over the edge.

“Why?” he asked. It was such a small unassuming word. Normally it wouldn’t bother you, but tonight it was the one thing you were most worried about. It could open a floodgate you’d been dying to keep closed since you joined the Straw Hats - and now it had opened.

“My family.” you said. “My island was good. We weren’t well-off but we never went without the things we needed. Then pirates came, and the marines came. Then if we had something and it wasn’t stolen by pirates, it was allocated to the marines. We started starving.”

Finally, you looked across to Luffy. He stared at you with a frown, the kind he’d get when he was focusing and trying to understand. You’d seen him direct it to others but had never been on the receiving end yourself - it felt strange. With that look, however strange it was, he made you feel like you needed to keep talking just so he understood. So you kept talking.

“With the lack of what we needed, my mother died, then my father. I had to look after my sister on my own, so I worked. I skipped eating so she got breakfast and dinner, I only ate the food I got from work. I did my best to go hungry so she didn’t have to and she died anyway.”

The weight of your words sat heavy in the night air. Your words were gentle, resigned - you’d gotten used to the thought long ago that losing your family was an act you were helpless to stop no matter how hard you tried. You’d spent the rest of your life until now trying even harder to see if that would have made a difference.

For a long time all you heard was the lapping of seawater on the ship’s hull.

“I don’t want to see the people I care about go hungry again. I want them to be happy. I want you all to be happy.” You turned your cheek to rest on your arm, suddenly feeling tired as you looked back at Luffy. “So I give up my food, I don’t eat more than my share.”

Luffy, again, mirrored your action. His cheek squished against his forearm as he looked at you. He lacked the frown now, and his eyes held understanding. You could tell your story made him sad, but he also looked grateful. Eventually his face broke out in a new, wide grin.

“If you could eat anything without a care in the world, what would it be?”

At the look on Luffy’s face, you let out a quiet noise that almost could’ve been a soft laugh. His eyes were expectant, so you looked back to the ocean and thought.

“I know it’s a drink, but I loved tea.” You sighed dreamily. “French earl grey was my favourite.”

Sanji knew you liked your quiet time, so he never went up to the crows nest with you. He stayed on deck, out of sight and smoking, until you climbed down and went to bed. He liked to think he was making sure you didn’t fall, but really he treated it like your own secret.

You up there, him down here, and that's the special time you get to spend together, a moment where it was just the two of you - even if you didn’t know about it. When Luffy started climbing the rigging, Sanji was prepared to get really pissed off for ruining your peace. He was glad he didn’t though.

Still night’s means sound travels well and fast. He heard everything you and Luffy talked about.

Thanks to your Captain, he’d figured you out - and he wasn’t going to bed tonight. He stomped out his cigarette and turned around back into the kitchen.

The plan for today was to dock the Going Merry and spend most of the day ashore, either gathering supplies or, in Luffy’s case, finding some local trouble to get in the middle of. Sanji’s original plan was to do that too, but after last night he had new plans.

The fact everyone else would be gone was fantastic - and your own plan to stay close to the ship to spend time around the hull scraping off barnacles was even more perfect.

Sanji was even more grateful to Luffy’s talk with you last night, since your whole mood seemed lighter today. Convincing out to climb back aboard was almost too easy - and the lack of trouble it took to get you to entertain his shenanigans was almost just as easy.

“Sanji I don’t know why you have to cover my eyes, I can keep my eyes closed just fine.”

“I don’t want you peeking.”

“If you’re going to show me some food sculpture again,” you trailed off. Sanji controlled the fluttering in his chest at the feeling of your cheeks moving under his palms - movements that meant you were smiling.

“If I was, you’d be very impressed.” He guided you to a stop, making sure to position you just right. He suddenly felt very nervous. This felt worse than when he made his very first meal. What if you didn’t like it? What if this was a big mistake? What if-

“Sanji?” you whispered. He didn’t even realize his hands were resting on your shoulders until your fingers came up and grazed his own. “Are you okay?”

He smiled. Of course you’d ask that - it made sense now, now that he knew you were the most selfless person he’d met.

“I’m perfect.” he said, hands squeezing your shoulders, “Are you ready to see your surprise?” You nodded. He let out a soft ‘okay’ and reluctantly pulled away to stand next to the kitchen table.

Sanji watched as you took it in, but your face gave nothing away. He nervously looked toward the table again - maybe something was out of place? - then back to you.

“What is this?” you asked. Your voice was so soft that if he wasn’t on a knife's edge he wouldn’t have heard it.

“Earl grey and chocolate cheesecake, and a lemon and earl grey chiffon cake.” He noticed your eyes lingering on a porcelain set just behind the cake. “And tea ready to brew.”

“Sanji, you didn’t have to do -”

“No!” His objection was abrupt, and it made your eyes snap from the spread to him. “I’m sorry, but no. I won’t hear you say it. Just eat it. Please.” Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest, too scared to even blink.

You could tell Sanji felt just as tense as you did. No one had ever gone through so much just for you - hell you didn’t even know there was French earl grey tea anywhere on the Merry, and here Sanji was with a whole morning tea that was themed after your favourite flavour. You didn’t know what to do.

“I’ll get on my knees and beg if you want.” he offered with a small and unsteady grin. Your head shook, declining, and his eyes glanced down at where your fingers nervously fiddled with themselves. You stilled them, instead gripping the coarse fabric of your skirt.

“What I want?” you said softly, almost to yourself. You looked at the food, so carefully prepared and baked, then back at him. “Could you join me? I don’t want to eat alone.”

Instantly, his nerves seemed to visibly melt away - and you in turn felt like you could relax too. He was by your side again, guiding you with a phantom hand at your waist into a seat, and then took the one beside you.

“You’ll have tea, obviously.” Sanji offered, reaching for the teapot, “You’re sweet as you are, but do you need some sugar today?”

Your hand faltered for where it reached for a piece of the chiffon cake. He turned his head to face you, to see you frozen again. This time the look on your face was different. Like a cheeky child had been caught with their hand in a cookie jar.

“Do you think I need some sugar today?” you asked, snickering.

“I’d give you some any day you want.” Then you started giggling - a sound he’d never heard from you before. He looked over and there it was - the smile he’d been longing for a chance to see.

“I think I need some sugar today,” you said with a smile. Your giggling had stopped, but you looked up at him with a soft smile. He couldn’t have been dreaming, but he might’ve since he swore you lent closer.

Sanji decided to be brave. His arm came up to rest on the back of his seat, and his fingers brushed your jaw. His heart skipped a beat when you let him do it.

“How much sugar?” he asked, feeling like he’d been lulled into a daydream at the sight of your happiness.

“A little bit,” you replied, shyly smiling over at him.

“Like this?” he said softly. Ever so carefully he lent forward. His fingers held your chin gently, and when he was close enough to count your eyelashes, your eyes fluttered closed. Gently, he pressed a kiss to the edge of your mouth. It was a short kiss, but he could die happily now - he knew he’d remember the feel of you on his lips even from beyond the grave.

“No,” you whispered, and your fingers ghosted across his jaw to guide his head closer still, “Like this.” you said. Then you kissed him. Your kiss was just as soft, just as gentle, but it was longer, and less afraid. When you pulled away your eyes finally opened.

Before, Sanji could tell you weren’t the kind of person to have done that. To have taken a kiss for yourself, no matter how willing the recipient was. To think all that it took to break that spell was a morning tea.

“Thank you Sanji, for doing all this for me.” You said. Your smile was content - it wasn’t the full toothy grin Sanji had hoped for, but it was genuine, and it made him feel fuller than any meal ever could.

“No, thank you,” he replied, “Thank you for letting me know you.”

[featjunranghae]

Fatherhood - Lee Jeno

part two of a three part series.

summary: when jeno's girlfriend left him to deal with fatherhood alone. he decided he'd never let anyone in his or his daughter's life. that was until he met you. his neighbour whom his daughter seemed to love way too much

part one - nct masterlist

Jeno was exhausted.

Finals week had drained every ounce of energy from his body, and all he wanted to do was collapse into bed and sleep for as long as possible. But with Jiwoo, that was never an option.

His two-year-old daughter had a strict bedtime routine—she went to sleep by ten and woke up at nine. Sometimes, she stirred in the middle of the night, but most of the time, she slept peacefully. Jeno, on the other hand, had no such luck. His sleep schedule was a complete mess, thanks to late-night study sessions.

Tonight, at least, Jiwoo was already tucked in. With her warm little body curled up under the blankets, he kissed her forehead before stepping out of the bedroom.

In the dining area, he found his roommates, Haechan and Jaemin, setting up the table. Candles. Snacks. Drinks. The whole deal.

Jeno raised a brow. “Do we have someone coming over?” He reached for a chip, only to have his hand smacked away by Haechan.

“Don’t,” Haechan warned, snatching the singular chips from his hand making him pout. “Jaemin’s pretty friends are coming over. We need to impress them.”

Jeno scoffed. “Which friends?” He flopped onto the sofa, already disinterested. “And no music. Jiwoo just fell asleep.”

Jaemin placed a few cans of soda down, nodding. “Don’t worry, we know our princess needs her beauty sleep. Anyway, remember I told you about Karina? She’s coming over—with her roommate. Who, by the way, Haechan saw from a distance and instantly became obsessed with.”

Jeno smirked. “Oh, so little Haechan has a crush?”

“C’mon, guys. Crushes are for boys. I just like looking at her face,” Haechan defended, popping a chip into his mouth.

“You hypocrite—”

“You could’ve just asked for her name,” Jaemin pointed out. “What if she’s not even Karina’s roommate?”

“Then why would they do grocery shopping together? Why would they talk about which shampoo to get?” Haechan leaned back, propping his feet on the armrest of the couch.

Jeno hummed. “What if they’re dating?”

Haechan sat up so fast he almost fell off the couch. “Oh my god, Jaemin, is Karina a lesbian? Please say no. No offense to lesbians, but I can’t lose that girl to the girls.”

“Dude, calm down,” Jeno rolled his eyes. “You change crushes every other day. Some big tits and doe eyes are all it takes for you to simp."

“What can I say? I’m just a man—”

The doorbell rang. Haechan scrambled to his feet, suddenly panicking. “Oh my god—do I smell good? Is my hair okay? Do I have anything in my teeth?”

Jaemin snickered as he opened the door. “Hi, girls. Welcome to our humble abode.” He stepped aside, letting them in.

And that’s when Jeno saw you.

His teasing smirk faded for a moment, eyes widening slightly. Of all people, of all places—you.

"Why do you look so shocked?" Haechan asked him.

"It's yn."

Haechan, who had been shamelessly staring at you with heart eyes, leaned in, whispering, “Wait, is this the magic bus lady?”

It had been a fleeting moment, that day on the bus. Jiwoo had been cranky, fussy, and Jeno was struggling to keep her calm. Then you appeared—like some kind of miracle. You had leaned in, spoken to Jiwoo in the softest, gentlest tone, and within minutes, his usually stubborn little girl had settled down in your arms like she had known you her whole life.

And now, you were standing in his living room.

Jaemin introduced you to them, but you didn’t need an introduction.

“Jeno,” you smiled, recognizing him instantly. “We met on the bus last week.”

Jeno only nodded.

So you were the girl Haechan had been raving about all week. Jeno didn’t know why that sent an uncomfortable feeling through his chest. It wasn’t like Haechan was a bad guy—he was one of Jeno’s best friends. But Haechan always thought with his dick, and you just… you seemed different.

The night went on, conversation flowing easily. Jaemin and Karina talking about their work place, while Haechan tried—and failed—to flirt with you.

Jeno wasn’t sure what his problem was. You weren’t his. You were just some girl he met on the bus. But when he saw Haechan trying to charm you, something about it rubbed him the wrong way.

You and Karina did leave after a few hours. But Jeno kept hearing about you from Haechan for another week.

It was one lazy night when Haechan sighed. “Dude, I think she doesn’t like me,” Jeno should have felt bad for him.

“She said—oh my god—you remind me of my younger brother. Not even friend-zoned. Brother-zoned. Almost started sobbing,” Haechan whined dramatically, pulling Jiwoo onto his lap as she giggled.

Jeno bit back a smile. He shouldn’t feel relieved. He shouldn’t feel happy about this. But he did.

——

Days passed, and you became a regular presence in their apartment. Karina often brought you along, and Haechan still made half-hearted attempts to flirt, but it was clear you weren’t interested.

Semester break arrived, and Jeno brought Jiwoo to stay with him full-time. With more free time now, he often left her in the care of Jaemin and Haechan when he went to work, knowing he could trust them.

One evening, you and Karina joined them for movie night. Normally, you sat beside Haechan, but tonight, you settled in next to Jeno.

“Hey,” you greeted with a small smile.

“Hey,” he replied, trying not to think too much about it.

“You like horror movies?”

“They’re fun,” he admitted. “It’s just stupid, unrealistic stuff.”

“Right? Who even gets scared of them?” You both glanced at Haechan, who was already clutching Jaemin’s arm like his life depended on it.

When a particularly gory scene played, Haechan let out a scream.

“What the fuck—why is this so graphic?!” he yelped, burying his face into Jaemin’s sleeve.

Jaemin groaned. “That’s it. Movie’s over.”

The screen went dark, and just as everyone was settling back down, a tiny pair of arms suddenly wrapped around Jeno’s leg.

“Princess?” Jeno looked down, surprised to find Jiwoo standing there, still groggy from sleep. “What are you doing here?”

“See, Haechan? You woke my princess,” Jaemin scolded, bonking Haechan on the head.

Jiwoo blinked sleepily at everyone, then spotted Karina. “Hello,” she mumbled.

Karina nearly melted. “Oh my god, hi baby—you're so pretty.”

Jiwoo giggled, turning her head shyly. Then, her gaze landed on you.

Jeno didn’t expect what happened next.

Jiwoo reached out for you.

At first, you thought she just wanted to hold your hand. But when she lifted both arms toward you, waiting, you hesitated before picking her up.

“Pletty,” Jiwoo murmured, resting her head on your chest.

Jeno stared.

“No way,” Haechan whispered, just as stunned. “She never lets anyone hold her when she wakes up.”

Jaemin nodded. “She’s the crankiest princess when he wakes up.”

Yet here Jiwoo was—completely at peace in your arms.

Karina pulled out her phone, snapping a picture. “YN, you’re the chosen one.”

Jeno didn’t know why it felt so right seeing Jiwoo curled up against you.

But it did.

After that night, your presence at Jeno’s apartment became a regular occurrence. It wasn’t even intentional at first. Karina would invite you along whenever she visited Jaemin, and Jiwoo would run straight to you the moment you walked through the door. At first, Jeno figured it was just a phase—Jiwoo had always been an affectionate kid, but she was usually wary of strangers. Yet, with you, she acted like she had known you forever.

It wasn’t just Jiwoo either. Somewhere along the way, you and Jeno started gravitating toward each other too.

Maybe it was the way you always crouched down to Jiwoo’s level when talking to her, never treating her like she was too young to understand. Maybe it was the way you remembered what she liked—always bringing her favorite strawberry-flavored lollipops or tying her hair up in tiny pigtails because “she likes it when her hair is out of her face.”

Or maybe it was just the way you talked to him.

You were a psychology major, so naturally, you were good at understanding people. But with Jeno, it didn’t feel like you were analyzing him or trying to figure him out. You just listened. Really listened. And when he found himself opening up to you more than he intended, you never made it awkward.

It was a relief, honestly.

Being a young single dad, most people either pitied him or judged him. He’d gotten used to it, but with you, there was none of that. Just quiet understanding.

——

One Friday evening, you came over earlier than usual. Karina had a late-night study session, so you texted Jaemin if you could still come over. He replied with a dramatic voice memo about how he and Haechan were “fighting for their lives” trying to entertain Jiwoo, so you took that as a yes.

When you arrived, Jiwoo was in the middle of destroying Jaemin’s Jenga tower.

“YN!!”

She abandoned her mission to run straight to you, and you crouched down just in time to catch her. “My pretty girl,” you cooed, rubbing her back as she nuzzled into you.

“YN, please take her. I can’t do this anymore,” Jaemin whined from the floor, looking exhausted.

You laughed. “She’s two, Jaem.”

“She’s two with the strength of a full-grown man,” Haechan groaned, rubbing his shoulder. “She threw her stuffed bunny at me, and it hurt.”

Jiwoo giggled against your shoulder before lifting her head. “Haechan is… is a loser.”

“Oh my god—who taught you that?!”

“Jeno,” Jaemin answered immediately.

You turned toward Jeno, who had just walked out of his room. “Jeno.”

Jeno blinked, looking at Jiwoo, then at you. “What?”

“You taught your daughter how to call Haechan a loser?”

“...Define taught,” Jeno said, completely unbothered.

Jiwoo grinned and pointed at Haechan. “Loser.”

“Why must I suffer?” Haechan clutched his chest dramatically, making you laugh.

Jeno sighed and walked over, reaching for Jiwoo. “Alright, come here, troublemaker.”

But Jiwoo only clung onto you tighter. “No. With YN.”

Jeno paused. You looked at him, waiting for him to take her, but he hesitated.

“Looks like you made your mind baby,” Jeno muttered, watching as Jiwoo tucked her face into your neck. His lips twitched slightly before he ran a hand through his hair. “Fine. You win, princess.”

Jiwoo giggled in victory.

Jaemin and Haechan exchanged looks before Jaemin leaned in, whispering to Jeno, “Bro. Your daughter just chose YN over you.”

Jeno rolled his eyes and walked toward the kitchen. “Shut up.”

——

That night, you found yourself sitting on the couch with Jiwoo curled up in your lap, playing with the rings on your fingers. The others had started a movie, but you were barely paying attention.

“YN,” Jiwoo mumbled sleepily.

You looked down. “Yeah, baby?”

Jiwoo blinked up at you, her tiny hands still wrapped around your fingers. “You come morrow?”

Your heart melted a little.

“You want me to?”

Jiwoo nodded, eyes drooping. “Uh-huh.”

You smiled, brushing a hand over her soft hair. “Okay. I’ll come tomorrow.”

She made a content noise before snuggling closer.

Jeno, who had been watching quietly, exhaled through his nose. “You do know you’re officially Jiwoo’s favorite person now, right?”

You grinned. “I’ll take the title.”

He shook his head with a chuckle. “She’s never warmed up to someone this fast. Not even my own mom.”

You looked down at Jiwoo’s tiny fingers curled around yours, her breathing already evening out. “She’s easy to love.”

Jeno didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, quieter, he murmured, “Yeah. She is.”

——

It happened gradually.

You started coming over more, not just because of Karina or Jiwoo, but because you wanted to. And Jeno… Jeno stopped questioning why he didn’t mind it.

When Jiwoo had a meltdown over a missing sock, you found it tucked under the couch and turned it into a silly sock-hunting game. When she refused to eat her carrots, you distracted her by pretending to eat one yourself—“Oh wow, this is so good!”—and suddenly, she wanted to try them too.

Jeno found himself watching you more than he should.

You didn’t just tolerate Jiwoo; you genuinely loved being around her. And Jiwoo? She adored you.

So when Jeno had to work late one evening, and Jaemin asked if you could babysit, Jeno didn’t even hesitate.

That night, when Jeno came home, he found you and Jiwoo curled up on the couch together, a storybook resting on your lap. Jiwoo had long since fallen asleep, her tiny hands gripping your shirt.

You looked up at him, eyes tired but warm. “Hey.”

Jeno took a slow breath. “Hey.”

You carefully shifted, trying not to wake Jiwoo. “She wanted to wait for you.”

Jeno exhaled, running a hand over his face. “She’s stubborn.”

“She just loves you.”

His gaze softened. “I know.”

He watched as you gently ran a hand through Jiwoo’s hair, your touch instinctively soothing.

You looked up again, meeting his eyes. “Jeno?”

He blinked, realizing he’d been staring. “Yeah?”

You hesitated, then smiled softly. “You’re doing a really good job, you know.”

Jeno felt something in his chest tighten.

People had told him before that he was a good dad. His friends, his family. But coming from you… it felt different.

His throat felt dry. “Thanks.”

You smiled again before looking down at Jiwoo. “I should put her to bed.”

Jeno nodded, stepping closer. “I’ll take her.”

You carefully shifted, letting him scoop Jiwoo into his arms. She stirred slightly, but when Jeno whispered, “Shh, baby. Sleep,” she relaxed against his chest.

You stood up, stretching. “I should head home.”

Jeno looked at the time. “It’s late. I’ll walk you.”

“Jeno, I’m literally two blocks away—”

“Don’t care.” He grabbed his jacket. “Let’s go."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue.

As you both stepped outside, the cool night air settling around you, you glanced at Jeno. “You know… I really like being around her.”

Jeno shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah. I know.”

You nudged his arm playfully. “I like being around you too, I guess.”

Jeno huffed a laugh. “Wow. What an honor.”

You grinned. “It is.”

He glanced at you, something unreadable in his eyes. “I like having you around too.”

Your chest felt a little warmer.

Neither of you said anything after that. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was easy, natural.

When you reached your apartment, you turned to him. “Thanks for walking me.”

Jeno shrugged. “Anytime."

You hesitated before stepping closer, lowering your voice. “Jeno?”

He raised a brow.

You smiled. “Get some sleep.”

Jeno blinked. Then, to his own surprise, he smiled too"

“Yeah. You too.”

As you disappeared inside, Jeno stood there for a moment before shaking his head and walking back home.

Yeah.

This was dangerous.

And he was already in too deep.

part three

an: y'all this has been rotting in my drafts for ages. I forgot completing it. anyways. part two one. one more left

taglist: @rubiiisyeon @x-luv @iseos1 @nctead @jaeminnanaaa17 @ajaaaaayyyy

[frenchkisstheabyss]

|☾| 𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕔𝕠 |☽|

♡ Pairing: boyfriend!seungcheol x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: fluff/smut/angst

♡ Summary: When your creepy coworker finally crosses the line your boyfriend swoops in to save the day, offering you safety and comfort in more ways than one.

♡ Word Count: 2.6kish

♡ Warnings: creepy coworker, someone pinches reader's ass, subsequently gets their ass kicked, angry cheol, lots of kissing, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, car sex, creampie, pet names (baby).

♡ A/N: This is a lil comfort fit requested to me by an anon. I hope that I did your request justice my darling 💜

“Cheol!” you scream, high heels scraping the concrete as you shuffle across the parking lot in pursuit of your boyfriend. “Choi Seungcheol, I know you hear me!” 

When you called your boyfriend it’d been for comfort. You needed a shoulder to cry on, someone to console you, but you didn’t know he’d react like this. Part of you didn’t know that he could. Seungcheol’s your sweetheart, your teddy bear. He’s the loving gaze that you wake up to each morning and the gentle arms you fall asleep in at night. Your man would never hurt a fly. At least you thought so. The way he is now—jaw clenched, irises burning with rage—you aren’t as sure about that anymore. 

“Vernon, get her in the car!” he shouts back to his best friend and an arm clasps around your wrist, dragging you back towards the car. 

You turn to Vernon, pleading with him to do something. Anything. But it goes in one ear and out the other. You look back to Seungcheol in time to catch the moment he disappears through the doors of your job, out of your sight and completely out of your control. Defeated, you slip into the passenger’s seat without a fight, pouting as the door slams closed. You glance up at the rearview mirror and into the backseat where another of Seungcheol’s best friends sits with guilt all over his face. 

“Sorry” Wonwoo mouths, apologizing for his lack of effort to stop Seungcheol in the first place. Not that he can blame him for the way he’s acting. Wonwoo would react the same way if his girlfriend called him crying because some asshole at work decided it was a good idea to touch her. He’d break his fingers. Every single one. 

Your night had started out so well. The bar wasn’t as packed as it usually is. Mostly regulars and a few harmless college kids whose fake IDs were enough to get them in. Tips were steady, your favorite bartender was working, and your boss even agreed to cut you early to make it to your friend Hoshi’s birthday party. But if working at the bar has taught you anything it’s that things can change at the drop of a hat and it did the second your worst enemy clocked in. 

To him you’re far from enemies, somewhere in his delusional brain you share a mutual crush, but in the real world a sense of nauseating dread overcomes you in his presence. You’ve told Seungcheol about him before. How he makes it a point to be in close quarters with you. Always making excuses to squeeze in beside you when you’re getting ice or putting in orders. How he insists on calling you pet names like “cutie” or “sexy” even though you’ve told him a million times how uncomfortable it makes you. Each time Seungcheol has offered to come handle the situation and each time you’ve insisted that you had it under control but tonight was a different story. 

You’d been taking drink orders for a table, your full attention dedicated to making sure your indecisive patrons were double sure they knew what they wanted. All night he’d been making comments about how pretty you look dressed up for the party. “I bet your boyfriend can’t keep his hands off you” he quipped.

Apparently neither could he because as soon as you weren’t paying attention he thought it was the perfect time to pinch your ass. It happened so quickly. If not for the smile on his face when you turned around you might’ve thought it was a mistake but no. It was very intentional. 

All you wanted to do was turn around and stab him with that pen in your hand but instead you ran to the bathroom, calling the first person you could think of. Your boyfriend. Seungcheol took his time listening to you, promising you everything would be okay and that this would never happen again. Fifteen minutes later he was texting you from the parking lot telling you to come out. If your shift wasn’t already over it was now. 

“It’ll be fine” Vernon reassures you, now seated beside Wonwoo, “He’s got this.” 

Staring out the window at the eerie stillness of the night, you wonder what exactly it is that he’s got. Your anxiety grows with the passing minutes. What’s he doing in there? Why isn’t he back yet? You get your answer when the door to the bar swings open and a body comes flying out, colliding with the ground like a slab of meat. Seungcheol steps out behind him, advancing on the man quicker than he can get up. It isn’t until he grips the back of the man’s head, dragging him towards the car, that you recognize it as your coworker. Seungcheol looks fine, same as when he walked in, but your coworker looks wrecked, his shirt torn and his nose bloodied. 

You watch in horror as Seungcheol brings him right up to the window, dangling him before you like a broken doll. Vernon and Wonwoo avert their eyes elsewhere, pretending not to see a thing. 

“Tell her you’re sorry” Seungcheol commands, tightening his hold and searing the man’s scalp in the process. 

Your coworker sniffs back involuntary tears, blood trickling down his lips. “I’m…I’m sorry, okay?” 

“And you’ll never touch her again?”

“And…and I’ll n-never….”

“Touch her…”

“Touch her again. Okay? Alright?” 

Seungcheol looks at you, his anger softening, “Okay?” 

You nod frantically, your heart racing, “Yes, okay.” 

Seungcheol leans into the man's ear, dealing a final blow to his stomach. “If I hear you even looked at her wrong I’m gonna come back and break your fucking legs.” Turning him loose, Seungcheol watches as the man scurries back into the bar before climbing into the driver’s seat. 

“Everyone good?” he asks, starting the car and flipping on some music. 

Vernon throws him some wicked side eye. Everyone’s good except that guy. “Yeah, man. We’re good.”

Wonwoo nods in agreement, pulling out his phone to be involved in anything but this. “A thousand percent.” 

Seungcheol takes your hand, petting the back of it with his thumb. He brings it to his lips, pressing soft kisses to your knuckles. You want to say something but you can’t. You can only stare in awe at the man before you. Whatever monster anger had turned him into has fallen back asleep, leaving only the boyfriend you know behind, but you can’t shake what just happened. Accepting your silence, Seungcheol starts the car, keeping your hand in his as you head towards your destination. 

Your phone buzzes in your lap. A string of text messages from the bartender coming through. 

✨💖 Dawn ✨💖 What the fuck was that? ✨💖 Dawn ✨💖 Did your boyfriend just kick his ass? ✨💖 Dawn ✨💖 Kinda hot. Ngl. 

Seungcheol sneaks a look at your phone but you catch him, flipping it over to conceal the conversation. What the fuck was that? You don’t even know. Did your boyfriend just kick his ass? Without a doubt. Kinda hot. Not gonna lie. You’re ashamed at how much that strikes a chord. You’re not one of those girls who encourages violence. In fact, you never want to see Seungcheol like that again.

But was it hot? Was that level of protectiveness attractive? Did his angry face make you swoon? Did his arm muscles look especially delicious dragging a man across a parking lot? You squeeze your thighs together to quiet the feeling awakening between them. You’ve gone insane. Haven’t you?

You try to focus on something else. Humming along to songs on the radio. Watching the neon signs of local shops fly by in a blur of color as you speed down the road. Marveling at the glow of the moon and the stars dancing around it. But none of it seems to work and by the time you’re pulling up to Hoshi’s apartment the sprinkle of moisture in your panties is reaching borderline flood status. 

“You guys head inside. We’ll be up in a minute” Seungcheol whispers back to his friends and they climb out of the car without a word, heading up to the party. 

Seungcheol switches the car off, leaving the two of you alone in silence. He watches you for a moment but you only stare straight ahead. Too awkward to look him in the eye. He thinks you must be mad at him, that maybe he went too far, and the idea that he hurt you even a little bit makes him sick. 

“Come here” he says, shifting his seat back to make room for you. 

The way he taps his lap to call you over makes you fold in an instant and you find yourself climbing onto him, your knees tucked at his sides as he reaches up to cradle your face. He rubs your cheeks, looking up at you through a curtain of chocolate brown hair, and warmth radiates through your body. 

“You mad at me?” he asks, as close to pouting as you’ve ever seen him. 

“Why would I be mad at you? He deserved it” you say, your own anger at the man’s actions boiling to the surface, “I was just surprised to see you like that.”

“I don’t like being that way but when it comes to you…” he sighs, taking you in like he would some rare treasure, “I don’t know. I just lost it but I’d never be that way with you. I swear I—”

Pushing his hands away, you press your lips to his, refusing to hear anything more. “Baby, I know you’d never.” You lay your hands on his shoulders, lightly massaging them, and you can almost feel the tension melt away. 

His arms come around your waist, his fingertips invading the space between your top and the softness of your figure. “Good. I just want you to feel safe with me.” He returns your kiss with another. Something short and sweet. “I’ll always protect you. Always take care of you.”

He pulls you closer, deepening the kiss and stirring up those feelings brewing deep inside of you. His tongue performs a beautiful dance with yours, tangling in a mixture of love and lust, building the heat between you. Seungcheol’s hands slide down your body, slipping beneath your skirt to knead the succulent flesh of your ass. 

“Cheol” you giggle, his lips still on yours even as you speak, “Behave.”

“Mmm, I don’t think I know what that means” he teases, squeezing harder. When he does it grinds you down onto him, something stiff pressing back up against you. 

You release the softest moan, rocking your hips, desperate for more friction. “We should go inside” you say more for yourself than for him. 

Burying his face in your neck, he plants intoxicatingly slow kisses along your skin, your pulse racing beneath his tongue. You arch your back in response, giving him the perfect angle to sneak a hand between your thighs, stroking your increasingly needy pussy through your panties. His cock steels at the realization of how wet you are, the fabric so drenched that he can feel you clenching. 

“You’re right, we should” he mumbles, looping a finger around your panties, his knuckle dragging along your slit, “But you have to get up first, don’t you?”

Your eyes fall closed as you bask in the tingly sensation his actions send rippling up your walls. You hold on tighter to his shoulders, your pillowy tits swelling against his chest. The absence of a bra makes it easy to tell how hard your nipples have gotten and he wishes to god that had enough room to take one onto his mouth, swirling his tongue around it until your eyes roll back. 

“Get up? I can…mmph” you whine as his finger curls into you. One after the other until three of his dexterous fingers are stretching you wide, lazily pumping in and out of your tight hole.

Seungcheol slaps your ass making you jiggle around his fingers. Kissing his way up your chin, he finds your lips again, lapping up every moan you pour out. “Go ahead, baby, get up” he taunts, fingers moving faster, delving so deep into your warmth that he swears he can feel every part of you. 

You bite down on your lip, your moans growing louder the harder you try to keep quiet. At the back of your mind you know you aren’t truly alone. There’s a party going on inside. What if someone else decides to show up and sees you like this? What if one of the guys left something in the car and comes back for it?

A million possibilities flow through your brain but more than that, more than anything else in the world, it's how good this feels. How well Seungcheol knows how to fuck you with his fingers. How hot he looks doing it. He gets off on pleasing you—the arousal soaking his boxers is more than enough evidence of that—and he can never hide how much he loves watching you. His beautiful girl. Dripping and moaning all because of him. All for him. 

“Cheol…” you whisper, your fingers finding his hair, “Want you…inside…”

You can barely speak, already too drunk off his fingers to perfectly articulate what it is that you want, but for Seungcheol it’s enough. You never have to ask him twice. He gives you a few more pumps, harder and rougher than the others, before his drenched fingers pop free, juices dripping down your thighs.

In no mood to be patient, you sit back, hurrying to remove any barriers between you and what you want the most. His cock springs free, the head already wet enough to shine in the glow of the streetlights. It’s pretty enough to make your mouth water. So thick and well defined that you can’t resist running your fingers down it to admire the perfection of it. 

Seungcheol coaxes you into a kiss, his hand around the base of his cock as he guides you up and onto it. He eases you down onto it a little at a time, not wanting to rush the glorious feeling of that first big stretch. When he finally bottoms out you’re left shivering, chills skating up your spine at the fullness. 

“Fuck, you feel amazing, baby” he says, throwing his head back against the head rest.

His fingertips dig into your thighs as you lean into him, rotating your hips to ride his cock at every angle the limited space will allow you to. The car windows begin to fog up from the heat of your bodies, tucking you away in your own little world, and you let yourself get lost in it, forgetting about anything else other than the feeling of Seungcheol throbbing against your walls. 

Resting his palm against your cheek, Seungcheol smooths the pad of his thumb across your lips, delicately petting them. “I love you” he whispers, the emotions welling up inside him threatening to overflow. 

You truly are precious to him. When he heard you crying on the phone earlier he lost it. The thought of anyone hurting you made him see red. All he could think was to protect you no matter what that meant. Looking at you now he can’t bring himself to regret it. It’s not just the way you’re riding him, your pussy hugging him with all of its warmth. It’s the way your beauty shines even in the shadows, his love for you growing with every breath you take. 

Placing your hand on his, you bring his palm to your lips and kiss it. “Love you too, Cheol. Love you so much.”

Your profession lights a fire in him that has his lips crashing into yours, his hips raising to thrust into you, an arm locked around your waist to keep you in position. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over you, consuming you until there’s nothing else. 

“Cheol, aah, don’t stop” you plead, “So close.” 

Seungcheol hammers into your sweet spot, sending you racing towards your high. Just as your walls begin to tremble he grabs your ass, lifting you up to leave only the tip of his cock pulsing in your core. “Cum for me, baby” he coos, slamming you back down and sending crashing over the edge.

Your juices cascade down his cock, nails digging into his shoulder as your walls cling to him. He cradles you in his arms, slowing his movements, letting you milk him of his own release. He coats your walls so deeply that you know you’ll be spending all night thinking of having him inside of you even when he isn’t and just imagining it is enough to get you hot all over again. 

Keeping you close, he litters your face with kisses, whispering the sweetest praises as your body relaxes into his. You’ve never felt this loved by anyone. Never so safe and cared for. You have every intention to stay in this car as long as you can, finding heaven in the comfort of his arms, and nothing in this world could make him push you away.

[somebodycall911onabc]

Literally the way these two are ALWAYS having the communication issues of two people in a romantic relationship and not a platonic one.

I can’t tell you that I miss you (because we’re best friends, but that would be too vulnerable) so I’ll say “Did you ever think about what that would do to us? Chris needs you, and we can’t even talk to you.”

I can’t tell you that you shouldn’t quit the 118 (because I know what your blood tastes like, and if I tell you how much I love you then you’ll know the taste of mine) so instead I’ll help you patch the holes you make in your wall. I’ll look out for your kid. I’ll tell you that you matter in every way except for words.

I can’t tell you that I dragged you off that ladder and willed your heart to beat again (because I can’t exist without you, but if you knew that, you might leave me) so instead I’ll dress you up and take you to a secret poker night and laugh when you tell me you broke up with your death dula girlfriend.

I can’t tell you that you can’t move away (because I can’t exist without you, but if you knew that, you might hate me), so instead I’ll move into your house and let you go because that’s what you do when you love someone.

I can’t tell you that I want you to come with me don’t want to leave you (because if you knew how I really felt about you, you might hate me), so instead I’ll get jealous of a dog and yell at you to make the separation easier, it’s always easier to leave someone when you’re angry.

Like…I’m sorry? No other “best friends” on this show have these problems. Athena tells Hen straight in s1 during the cheating arc. Hen tells Chim straight up how much she misses him, that she’d go with him if she could, when he decides to go after Maddie. Josh tells Maddie that she needs to tell Chim what she wants when she “moves back in” but doesn’t get back together with Chim after she’s back from Boston.

NO other platonic character relationship have the communication issues of these clowns. You’re suing the department so I’m going to join an illegal fighting ring and almost punch someone’s brains in. You’re not at the 118 anymore so I’m going to kiss a different girl then ask my girlfriend to move in with me. You’re making a new friend so I’m going to insert myself into your basketball game, sprain your ankle, then go make out with your new friend. You’re dating a man and exploring your sexuality so I’m going to have an emotional affair with my dead wife’s doppelgänger.

Like???

all buck and eddie really need to do is ask themselves "why does telling you how i feel about you feel like an admission of something?" and the answer is "because it is" like both of them on some level recognise that the love they feel for each other is different than the love they feel for anyone else. beyond best friends. beyond platonic. because if it wasn’t it wouldn’t feel like this. it wouldn’t feel like an admission. like a confession. telling your best friend you will miss them should not feel like a confession. so why does it?

[lix-ables]

くnudes ft. skz ろ

note: like the title suggests sigh, its mostly just them jerking off to your nude (please take this as an apology for not being on here, uni is being a bitch omg)

𖦹 chan: the thought passes through your head for maybe just a split second, but you couldn’t help but tease him, or try to at least

“baby what the fuck,” chan would mumble into the phone when you pick up his call. “you know what, i’m facetiming you. pick up the call. now.”

just know that it would result in him grunting into the phone as he’s talking to you, his fingers already stroking his dick, his teeth sinking into his lower lip. “i don’t care if there’s someone with you, you’re watching me play with myself. fuck–” chan’s eyes stare into yours, as you watch him throw his head back against the chair. “look at what you’re doing to me.” when a whimper leaves you, he just chuckles, hissing in between at how good he’s feeling right now.

“no, baby. if you can tease me, i can tease you too. now watch me cum.”

𖦹 minho: maybe because you were drinking a bit too much at the party that you and minho are at, you’re all needy – which got you all worked up, and you decide to climb up to the bathroom, and maybe tease your boyfriend a little. just a little. just wanting him to see how he was making you feel, with his sleeves rolled up and his hair a mess as he talks to jisung, when you send him the nude.

his eyes meet yours and he walks toward you, a sigh resting on his lips as he watches you smirk, your fingers reaching to rest on his forearm. his fingers open your chat, and shows you the picture that you just sent your boyfriend.

“oh, now you get all shy on me. you just love to tease me, don’t you? here’s what we’re going to do, i don’t care who is watching us leave. you’re watching me play with my dick, and you don’t get to touch, until i say so.”

𖦹changbin: “yeah, i’m looking at the picture right now,” changbin mumbles into the phone, leaving you on speaker, setting it onto the table next to him, and you can hear him shuffling on the other side. “fuc–, you look so good, baby. but oh, my fucking god– i wish i was inside you right now, your panties pushed to the side as i fuck you— shit.”

“make sure you leave early, because i would rather you stroke me and join me than i do it on my own. i’m not playing with you, i can’t wait till you get home.”

𖦹 hyunjin: you know for a fact that hyunjin just LOVES receiving messages like this, but maybe today, it just caught him off guard, and he was out with a few friends when he replied to your text. replied with a call that is. just like chan, his logic is that, if you get to tease him, he gets to do the same. but the only difference is, he does it so effortlessly, which makes you blush all the time

“baby, what am i looking at hmm?”

“what do you mean?” you reply, a smile resting on your face and you just hoped he knew how much fun you were having.

“do you want me to walk around with everyone, with a stain on my jeans, hmm? you want everyone to see what effect you have on me, darling?”

𖦹 jisung: we all know that jisung just loves this shit. he would prolly be the type to actually jerk off to your nude, send you a pic of what he’s doing, just to tease you back, and also he would aaaalso maybe get back at you when you’re home. how can you tease him, when you’re not near him? how can you make him deal with his neediness on his own? because he would rather have your manicured fingers on his dick, while his fingers are tangled in your hair, helping you so that you can make him feel good.

you can also expect him to eat you out, edge you out (OR overstimulate you, depending on his mood) and maybe also you can expect him to send a nude in return (*cough cough* the outline of his boner when he’s wearing his gray sweatpants – which he knows you LOVE) and sending a text saying <wish you were on your knees for me right now baby <3>

𖦹 felix: “fuck i just made a mess, bub, what the fuck was that,” felix’s eyes rest on yours, your eyes watching his hand movement through facetime, your own thighs closed tightly. okay, maybe sending him that nude made you even more needy than before, but you just wanted felix to come back home. “you love it when i make a mess hmm? look at you, baby. all flushed and flustered for me– fuck i just want to see your hand on my dick when i get home… no don’t hide yourself, don’t hide behind that pillow. i’m gonna go clean up, but i’ll be home in an hour, okay?”

just expect a text from him saying <went to clean up, but ended up cumming again>

<fuck you for sending that nude, but also don’t stop. send me more>

𖦹 seungmin: would he be mad? yes. would he also love it at the same time? fuck yes.

seungmin would be the type to silently send a text back saying <i was just on my way to make some food hot, baby>

<look at what you’re doing to me, shit>

<attached image> you bite your lips out of habit, when he sends you a pic of his boner, resting perfectly against the side of his thigh, his fingers holding just the tip– just the way you like it.

<voice note>

the next thing you prolly get from him is a voice note of him jerking off, his whispers of what he’d do to you, and his moans filling your ears, making you run and grab your earphones, listening to him.

<voice note> “fuck baby, i wish you were here right now. fuck yes, i want to see your eyes staring at me when i’m stroking myself– i love playing with myself to your pictures baby, you better get home right after work. we have some unfinished business – fu– i’m gonna..come– shit—”

𖦹 jeongin: he’d prolly get all red when he sees the image you sent him, but shit he would prolly also just send you a picture of him sitting in front of the mirror in your shared bedroom (yes, he loves fucking you and playing with you in front of the mirror) his fingers clearly playing with his dick, his face hidden with a message saying

<so this is what you’re gonna do>

<sit at the table in the break room>

<i don’t care if you’re blushing right now>

<you’re going to be good for me, and listen to what im sending you. because this is what you do to me>

<i hope you’re happy because fuck, i wish it was your hand and your mouth that’s on this dick, baby>

taglist: @mnwrld @starlostseungmin @chrisbahng @comet-falls @niijo @chvnnie @joonszn @cherryhanji @blueberry-chan @dnadoublefelixx @ethereallino @stuckwithaphobiaa a @chewryy @bangchanbabygirlx @zizis-world12 @aimeexx @whatudowhennooneseesyou @nightlychans @americanokisses @katieraven @hwan-g @idek-at-thispoint @es-kay-zee @writerracha @lethallyprotected ted @lino-jagiyaa aa @zoiescastle @compersian @jilixcuddles @teaspeungmin @eulaenthusiast @chriscentric @iadorethemskz @abcdefgiwsmcty @l3visbby @yukichan67 @hoshologies @zee17 @sleepyleeji

note: :D we blame quinn (yeeeee the audio erotica app sigh) for this idea okay? mwah bye <3

[81pastrys]

Hi!! I hope you’re doing well. I was wondering if you would consider doing something where Lando and reader had a baby when they were teens and no one knew but family so the baby would be around 8-10 now and the world somehow found out about it?

Reality

Summary— Lando made dumb decisions as a teenager and his ex decided her account should be public without archiving a certain post

Warnings— secret child ; Oscar cursing ; mention of murder, but no actual murder?

A/N— I like this one (let’s be real, I like all my work)

Lando had been pondering the day that his daughter would be revealed as his daughter to the public. Everyone always believed her to be a younger sister, nothing confirming nor denying the idea. Lexie always joined him in the paddock, usually going unnoticed. She was stealthy like that. He was a good co-parent, kept it a secret and tried not to make it obvious she was always with him.

This particular weekend was weird, Lexie’s mom had asked Lando to keep her for the weekend for a mysterious trip and he obliged but worried that she was making a mistake. “No, I’m not saying I can’t take her, but do you even know this guy?” He asked her over the phone.

“Lando, you aren’t my dad, there is no need for you to worry about me like this.” She explained to him. Yeah he wasn’t her dad, or boyfriend anymore but they have a 9 year old to worry about and she was crucial to that.

“It just seems strange, you never do this.” He said. She was on her way with Lexie already, a plane set for them to be off in Hungary. “Not to mention the rumors going around about Lexie.” He mumbled nearly.

“So do you want me to keep her?” She asked. “I can cancel the trip.” That is 100% not what he meant and she knew it.

“No, I’m taking her with me to the race, I already got her a pass.” He said serious now. “It’s whatever we can talk more later.” He shook his head, finishing up on packing his suitcase.

They go to the race with no troubles and Lexie does her thing, sitting on Lando’s side. The rumors going around were that she was, in fact, his daughter and not his sister like they had thought.

Only the closest drivers actually knew she was his, but most were oblivious to the fact. It only takes one fan to go deep diving on Instagram to find the picture his ex posted of them in the hospital with Lexie in their arms.

He scrolled through a bit of media before practice and nearly freaked out. “Lexie!” He called to her. She ran right up like she was in trouble. “Lay low today yeah?” He asked, kissing her head.

“Okay, as in hide out in your driver room?” She asked, she loved his driver room. Lando nodded at her for the great idea. “Got it, love you!” She said. Lando had trained her young not to call him dad in the paddock or garage.

He returned from practice and Oscar had now seen the picture that floated around. “Mate what is this? You had a kid and didn’t tell me?” Oscar joked around. Lando scratched his neck and Lexie emerged from the driver room, hugging Lando’s waist. Oscars eyes went wide.

“When I said I was a dumb teenager what did you think?” Lando smiled. Lexie playfully punched his arm. “I didn’t call you dumb! I called myself dumb!” He laughed.

“What’s Osc-uh talking about?” Lexie asked. Oscar showed her his phone and she looked up to Lando who looked down at her. “Does this mean I have to call you dad in public?” She asked.

“Holy shit!” Oscar cursed. He covered his mouth quickly. “Who else knows?” He asked. Carlos, Max, Daniel, Charles (because Max can’t keep his mouth shut)

“Hmm the entire world now.” Lando said. “I told her not to post that but that brings us back to dumb teenagers.” Lexie playfully hit him again and he knocked her head. “Stop doing that!” He laughed. They truly did act like siblings.

Carlos saw too and headed over to the paddock he once called home. “Hey Lex.” He greeted when she hugged him. “She made her account public?” Carlos asked.

“Yeah, mate she’s going off grid.” Lando sighed. “She went off with some dude to Italy?” It was like gossiping but they had voiced their thoughts on his ex already. “I don’t mind it means I get Lexie for a week.” He tickled her and she giggled.

“Stop it!!” She got out through giggles. Cameras were on them, the graphic usually just saying ‘Lexie Norris’ but this time the graphic had ‘Lando’s daughter’ under her name.

“You’re kidding.” Lando’s face dropped. “Man what the fuck.” He whispered as he smiled. Lexie calmed down and saw it too. They played the clip of him tickling her and she hugged him.

“I love you too dad!” She said. He about melted in his racing suit. Carlos smiled at the pair and so did Oscar. “Can you call mum and make sure that guy didn’t kill her?” She was half joking.

“Killing her is a bit absurd Lexie.” Lando said. “He took her to Italy, he might just drain her accounts or something.” He joked with his daughter.

“Call her anyway.” Carlos said now concerned Lexie was insinuating her mum could be dead somewhere in Italy. (She was not)

Lando called her and she was having a grand old time with the random man and he didn’t seem all too weird either so Lando didn’t have any worries anymore. They left the paddock that day as father and daughter.

I had a feeling she needed a different name, Lila wouldn’t be able to keep a big secret so Lexie enters the chat

Taglist: @il0vereadingstuff

[eddiazx]

you are in love - evan buckley x reader

“I need a date.” Buck announces to anyone who will listen at the firehouse loft. 

“Need is a strong word.” Bobby says, quirking his eyebrow from his position behind the kitchen island, cutting bell peppers. 

“No, Cap, it’s the perfect word for my situation. Taylor is getting married and I absolutely need to bring a date.”

“Why are you even going to an ex’s wedding?” Eddie asks, not looking up from his game of pool with you. 

“The perpetual need to be liked, Eds. Now please, someone help me.”

Hen, Chim, Eddie, Ravi, and Bobby chime simultaneously: “Not it.”

You straighten up with your pool cue, betrayed by the people you consider friends and slightly impressed at how choir-like they said those two words. You then look at Buck, who’s already staring at you with pathetic, pitiful puppy-dog eyes. You sigh dramatically and say, “Fine. I’ll be your date. You better buy me a bunch of booze, Buckley.”

“Thank you, thank you!” Buck says, placing a sloppy kiss on your cheek before bouncing away happily. 

This can’t end well. 

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

You were right. Because Taylor Kelly decided to get married 4 hours away, and Buck said he’d get the two of you hotel rooms so you didn’t have to wake up early and get ready in a rush. 

Because life was like a movie: there was only one room and one bed available. 

“I can sleep in the armchair.” Buck tries to offer, extremely unconvincingly. 

“I know you need to stretch your bad leg out to sleep well, Buck. We’re friends, we can share a bed.”

“Oh, thank god.” Buck says, flopping onto the bed. 

You smile fondly at the dork you call your best friend, and head into the bathroom to get changed.

When you come back though, you hesitate. Sure, you've seen your Buck shirtless and in just his underwear countless times due to glass locker rooms, but sharing a room and a bed was different. It's intimate.

Buck, seeming to know what you were thinking, pats the empty side next to him. "C'mon. I promise I won't bite."

"That's tragic, I do like biting." You tease.

Buck blushes a faint pink and drops his hands in his lap to cover a rising situation. "Good to know."

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

You wake up the next morning extremely well-rested and snug. Sometime during the night the two of you had gravitated towards each other. Buck's front was plastered against your back, and you had woven your fingers with his, resting your linked hands on your stomach.

You slowly turn around to face Buck, watching as he blinks awake. A big, albeit sleepy grin graces his face. "Mornin'."

You smile back at him and respond softly. "Good morning."

"Hey, I don't think I ever thanked you for coming with me."

"You already did, Buck. I just don't understand why you came. You don't really talk to Taylor."

"You know... I think I wanted an excuse to come spend time with you."

"Me?"

Buck nods. He then stills as an epiphany overtakes his entire being.

"You're my best friend." Buck says, voice full of wonderment.

"Don't let Eddie hear you." You joke half-heartedly, but the raw honesty in Buck's voice was making your heart beat so fast, you would think someone was hunting you for sport.

"I'm serious. I always look for your reaction first whenever I tell a joke, I know your coffee order better than my own, and you're the one I want to talk to whenever I have good or bad news. I fell in love with you slowly and then all at once - because you're my best friend."

"You're in love with me?" You ask, barely audible, happy tears filling your eyes.

"I am." Buck admits, uncharacteristic shyness marring his features.

You reach over, smoothing a stray curl back from his forehead before whispering. "I love you too, Buck."

Buck takes those words as an invitation to maneuver you onto your back while he hovers on top of you.

"So, what you said last night about biting..." Buck starts, and you shut him up with a laugh and a kiss.

[bunnyinvanilla]

dilf old man!vampire john price who doesn’t want to leave his sweet, little girl home alone at night, so he takes her to one of his monthly meetings with the few other vampires he knows in the city. you, being the shy and timid bunny you are, are scared at first, but john keeps a keen eye on you all the time, hand wrapped around your waist protectively (possessively), as he introduces you to his former military teammates, never fully focused on any conversation he’s having because he keeps his attention on you solely, sitting on his lap — he doesn’t want you to feel more out of place than you already do, so he gives you some strawberry juice to sip in a crystal glass, to match the dark red liquid he’s drinking from his glass.

“is that…?” your voice trails off, worry and your emophobia crawling in your scaredy bunny heart — but he places a hand on your thigh, comforting you as he caresses your skin. “easy, easy, love, s’just once a month, dont worry fawn.”

he’s promised you he would stop drinking it unless it was from you (offered willingly) or from bad, mean criminals he and his task force captured :,(

everyone treats you with respect because you're captain john price’s sweet girl, they can’t dare to lay a finger or even their eyes on the oldest, well respected vampire’s personal bunny. but you’re so young, you barely look legal, and john is a silver fox, some guest even mistook you as his daughter when they first saw you with him :( he’s so proud of the huge age gap between you two :)

“where did you guys meet?” a vampire smiles at you friendly, to which you smile back while fidgeting with your cross necklace. “at church”

“john goes to church?”

“well, from what i’ve learnt vampires can’t enter people’s houses without being formally invited, i guess he’d been feeling pretty lonely that day, and he’d decided to visit my local church…since the house of the Lord is open to everyone, it was the only place he didn’t need to ask permission to enter.” you smile kindly at her, john’s large hand tightening around your thigh at the memory, but you can see a smug grin underneath his mustache.

[rosemaryblossoms]

The Future Leper Queen of Gotham part one

Quick author’s note: Besides learning about Jesus, God our Heavenly Father, the Angels in Heaven, and Marie Antoinette, I love learning about King Baldwin IV of Jerusalem. He’s God fearing and is respected. I decided to due a female reader inspired off of him, also reader is 16 year old. This story takes place in @euphoria-looney’s story Who Said Money Can’t But Happiness? But however this world has a few twists. The characters Palmola and Serena belong to @euphoria-looney

Warnings: Reader has Leprosy so there might be descriptions of skin or other things that would make you uncomfortable, out of character moments possibly, religious beliefs and mentioning, Serena, background character deaths, Batfamily guilt. Viewers discretion is advised.

Divider Creds: @selysie and @abyslita who inspired them.

Princess Y/n was raised with out the love of her family, however, her mentor Churchill Williams (parody of William of Tyre.) Williams was a well educated and well respected man who was a father figure and better teacher to Y/n than Bruce and Palmola was. Williams would however notice his dear princess’s behavior turn strange, he noticed on day that when accidentally pricking her finger on a needle she didn’t flinch and looked really calm and patient for someone to prick themselves. Later in that same day, he noticed how even when the skin of her arm was pinched in the door when she closed it. Not a flinch, not a yelp of pain or surprise either. Williams would keep an eye throughout the days for any similar situations, which did occur, he then remembered wise words from a wise man, “It is a certainty that a limb which is without feeling is not conducive to health and that a sick man who does not feel himself to be so inscurs great danger.”

The worried educator took it to Bruce who summoned the top doctors to help in this situation; repeated fomentation, oil rubs, and even poisonous remedies were employed without in the result to help her. However it was too late to help, she had a disease deemed incurable, leprosy, or more specifically, Lepromatous Leprosy. You were quarantined and you were moved into a tower separated from all the rooms, your room was burned and rebuilt before Serena took it. Word of your leprosy got out from the gossiping maids who were grateful for not serving you for longer. Williams stepped up to take care of you, no one visited you but him and Alfred. During your time isolated, you found God. For once there was peace in your heart. 1 Peter 5:7: “Cast all of your anxiety on him, because he cares for you.” You also became more calm and left the competition of love with Serena. You instead find ways to help Gotham, sure they don’t deserve it but this WAS still YOUR HOME and you will DEFEND IT. You decided to join Saint Lazarus of Gotham, these are knights that have leprosy and continued to fight until they couldn’t any more. Despite being the only female, they accepted you and taught you the ropes. Your disease got worse as it carried on, it disfigured your face and gave you numbness in one hand, you also began to wear a mask. The angry red itchy splotches littered your precious skin. You refrained from self pity, you were a survivor, not an infant. You thrived but sadly got Malaria, however YOU STILL SURVIVED. One day, a threat of an enemy came to Gotham, a Sultan wanted to invade and take over Gotham. You couldn’t let this happen, Dick had lost an arm from the last battle with the same fricken Sultan. You took this opportunity to not only to prove your commitment to your royal duties despite your condition but to show your love, loyalty, and strength to Gotham.