#i just think he deserves it as a little treat for going through so much
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Ś̷̻̼͉͍̙̱̰͔͉̊̔͑͋̅͊̉̍͆̂̄́͘͜ų̷̯̬̅̎͌r̵̡̡̛͖̖͚̟̫̤̯̼͈̂͋͂̏͜v̴̧̠̳͛͠ḯ̶̝͈͈̩̖̳͎̒̃̈́͗͛̽̎̕v̶̨͚͚̪̜̥͓̩̲̖̿ę̶̡̨͇͙̬̮̪̗̓̐
Get In the Water Ruthlessness Hold Them Down
Danyal's blow forced Constantine to skid back several feet. The only reason it didn't cleave him in two was the magical shield he'd thrown up last minute. Damian could only watch as the white magic crawled up his brother's arm.
Danyal screeched, a shockwave erupting from his mouth and shaking the cavern. Gritting his teeth, Constantine grabbed Danyal's arm with both hands and yanked him off course. Whirling around, Constantine threw Danyal across the room. Danyal righted himself midair and lunged again, but Constantine was ready. With a flick of his wrist, a sigil burned into the air, and a barrier of golden light erupted between Danyal and Talia. Danyal’s claws raked against it, sparks flying, but it held—for now.
The whites of his eyes had turned green.
Constantine staggered back, sweat dripping from his brow. He looked worse than Damian had ever seen him, gaunt and exhausted. "That won't hold 'im for long," he remarked. "Lad's losing all sense of himself. It’s the Pits—too much exposure to ‘em. They’ve warped him, torn his essence to shreds." He grimaced. "But if we stay here much longer, he's going to tear us to shreds."
Damian looked away from his mother fleeing the room, to Danyal, hissing and spitting insults as his claws ripped into the magic shield. In the Lazarus Pit, Danyal had been... calm. Disdainful, but calm. It was only in the overworld where Danyal lost his reason-
"No!" Damian said. "We don't need to leave. He does."
"You want to inflict that thing on the rest of the world!?" Todd yelled back.
Damian snapped, snarling. "That thing is my twin brother, and you will treat him with the respect he deserves!"
Danyal screamed from behind the shield. "I'm your murder victim, not your brother!" Danyal cackled again. The green leaked out of Danyal's eyes in jagged cracks as his voice suddenly deepened. "Ṭ̴̢̢̻͓̱̯̭̊̄͊̀̐̐̏̃̊̊̉ê̶̢̱̪̰͇͇̻̺̆̏̋̃̾̓͑̄͘l̴̥̹̫̦̲̳̼̗̮̗̼̤̒͛̇̇̐̔͜l̷͖͕͇̯̹̖̲̬͔̈͑̒̈́̀̕͜ ̵̪̋̋̄̈͘ṱ̸͇͓̃̌̄̄͒̍̒̃̌̔͘h̵̡͈̝͈̠̜̞̳̻̮͕̻͓̯̘̒́̽̓͝e̵͎͔̼̘̺͓͎̹̅̊m̵̛̠̻̰̦̀͋͋̓̈́̿̊̓̈́̿̕̕."
Damian closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose. Upon his exhale, he opened his eyes again, certain of what he has to do. Damian stepped forward, Grayson's hand falling away as he squared himself against Danyal. His voice was steady, though it carried the weight of everything he’d been holding back. “I killed you. I snuck poison out of Mother's room and slipped it in your evening drink.”
The room fell deathly silent. Even the faint hum of the Lazarus Pit seemed to fade as Damian’s words echoed.
Danyal tilted his head, his twisted grin spreading wider. “There it is,” he said, his voice dripping with venom. “The truth, laid bare. But do you feel better now, little brother? Does admitting it cleanse you of your sins?”
“No,” Damian replied firmly. His hand drifted to his sword hilt, but he didn’t draw it. “But I’ll make it right.”
Danyal’s smile vanished, his eyes narrowing as he floated , green light crackling like static around him. “Make it right? You think you can fix this?” His voice was a roar, reverberating through the chamber.
Damian drew his sword, the blade glinting in the eerie light. He pointed the blade at Danyal, his stance resolute. “You said it before; me or them. Me or Gotham. So here I am. I challenge you to a duel. One last battle, brother. Just us.”
"No!" Grayson protested. "Damian, you can't-"
"T̷̲̳̀̋̈́͗͝h̵͓̦̹̪̟̤̀͂̓̃̍̍ȋ̶̖̞̝̐͑́̀̓͝͝s̶͍͎̩̱̫̰̟̈́ ̶̞̺̹̔̂͌͗͒͐͜ȋ̷̢̛̞̱̘͎̙̐ş̴͈̣͎͖̐̐̌͠ņ̴̟̥̟̉̓͂̐̑͗'̵̭͙̳̥̱̦̖̇͂̆̕ͅt̶̲̱̪̠͓̀́͋́ ̵̜͚̪͕̣̙̯̦̈͒a̶͔͔̫͖̹̝͗̀̓̚͜b̷̨̨͚̯̲̮̠̏̍͛̇͊͝ơ̴̙̥̪̰̦̭͆̀̒̐ư̵̻̰̍̇̅̾̎̅̃t̷̢͔̣̻͖̙̦̃̈́͆̆̈́̚̕ ̴͍̖̰͎̪̹̮̲͐̎ỳ̶̖̼͈̥́̀͊̂o̶̡̪͕̒́ư̴͍̬͗̀͗̿͐̊.̴̯̻̭̱̤̩̋́͛͠ͅ" Danyal sneered at Grayson. His claws finished slicing clean through Constantine's barrier. With a deafening screech, Danyal lunged, his hand glowing with green light that morphed into a sword. Damian met him head-on, their clash sending shockwaves through the chamber. His family scrambled to stay out of the way, their shouts of protest drowned out by the sound of steel against spectral energy.
Danyal fought like a demon, his movements erratic but deadly, each strike fueled by years of pent-up rage and pain. And Damian did not stay uninjured, as cuts and bruises built up as he, inch by torturous inch, forced Danyal back towards the Lazarus Pit.
With every strike Danyal landed, Damian gave him one in kind. The moment his feet touched the ground, Damian struck at his heel. In the air, he focused on attacking from behind. And Damian kept up his attack, without falter, because defeat was not allowed.
"I won't let you kill me," he said during a parry.
“You don’t know what it means to survive!” Danyal roared, slamming his claws into Damian’s blade. “You don’t know what it’s like to claw your way back, piece by piece, from the darkness you threw me into!”
“You’re wrong,” Damian shot back, his voice fierce. “I’ve been in that darkness too. I’ve fought my way out. And I won’t leave you there.”
Their battle raged on, but Damian slowly drove Danyal back, step by step, toward the Lazarus Pit. Finally, with a calculated feint, Damian disarmed Danyal, dispelling his etherial sword. Before Danyal could react, Damian lunged, tackling him with all his strength.
The two of them tumbled backward, plunging into the glowing green depths of the Lazarus Pit. The chamber shook, the waters surging violently as they disappeared beneath the surface.
And the world turned green.
#dp x dc#dc x dp#dcxdp#dpxdc#c: danny fenton#c: damian wayne#c: danyal al ghul#damian and danny are twins#danny al ghul#c: bruce wayne#c: john constantine#c: dick grayson#c: jason todd#get in the water au#drown au
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Oh, I'm sorry, but my ideas for Leclerc's stepsister are in my head and there are so many of them, I don't have the nerve to send them all, but... I just want her to be very different from baby Sainz, she was very independent, hardly accepted help, was a little (and sometimes a lot) shy, defiant, but at the same time for the Leclair brothers she was a princess, and their parents wanted to enjoy the fact that everything was fine
With love from CH 💜
Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!
- xoxo babygirl ♥️
No Part 2!
Independent, but Loved
It was a typical sunny afternoon in Monaco, and the house was alive with the sound of chatter and laughter. Yn was sitting cross-legged on the couch, her manicured nails clicking against her phone screen as she scrolled through her social media feed. The comments on her latest post were already piling up.
@queenYnislife: “She fixed her car and still looks better than me. HOW??”
@monaco_royalty: “Yn, the real princess of Monaco. Bow down, everyone.”
She smirked at the comments and tapped her nails thoughtfully against her chin. "You know," she said, her voice laced with playful sarcasm, "I should start a DIY YouTube channel. 'Fixing Cars with Yn.' I'd show everyone how to slay while being a mechanic."
From across the living room, Arthur groaned. "Yn, you didn't fix the car."
She raised an eyebrow at her 19-year-old stepbrother, her dark brown eyes sparkling with mischief. "Excuse me, mechanic Arthur. I literally fixed it myself. My nails were covered in grease for days!"
Lorenzo, the oldest at 25, laughed as he walked into the room, carrying a tray of drinks. "Oh, princesa, you really think that car is still the same one?"
Yn frowned. "What do you mean?"
Arthur leaned forward, unable to suppress his grin. "We got you a new car."
Her jaw dropped. "No, you didn't!"
"Yes, we did," Lorenzo confirmed with a shrug, his grin widening. "Do you honestly think you ‘fixed’ a blown engine with a wrench and some nail polish remover?"
Charles, who had just walked in after a training session, leaned against the doorway with an amused look. "To be fair, you were very convincing with your grease-smudged selfies."
Yn stared at her brothers, utterly scandalized. "Wait a second. You mean all my TikToks about ‘fixing’ the car were based on a lie?"
Arthur snorted. "Pretty much, yeah."
"You guys distracted me?" Yn accused, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at Charles.
Charles threw his hands up in mock surrender. "Guilty. But it was Lorenzo's idea!"
Lorenzo chuckled, clearly unbothered. "You deserved a better car, princesa. That old one wasn’t safe anymore."
Yn crossed her arms and pouted, her glossy lips forming a perfect little scowl. "You could have told me instead of treating me like a clueless baby."
"You're not clueless," Arthur said quickly, his tone softening. "We just wanted to make sure you were safe. You know we only do these things because we care about you, right?"
Her pout melted into a small smile. "Fine. But I'm still mad that you lied to me."
"We'll make it up to you," Charles promised. "How about dinner on me tonight? Wherever you want."
"Anywhere?"
"Anywhere."
Yn grinned, her previous annoyance already forgotten. "Okay, but you’re paying for dessert too."
"Deal," Charles said, ruffling her hair.
---
That evening, as they all sat around a table at Yn’s favorite restaurant, their parents, Pascal and João, joined in on the fun. Pascal raised his glass, a proud smile on his face. "To my incredible children. I love seeing how well you all take care of each other."
"Even if it means pulling off elaborate car heists," Yn teased, earning a round of laughter from everyone at the table.
João, always the peacemaker, smiled warmly at her. "They just want to make sure you're happy and safe, filha."
"I know," Yn said, her voice softening. "And I love you guys for it. But don’t think this gets you off the hook for messing with me."
Arthur rolled his eyes. "Great, here we go."
Yn smirked, leaning back in her chair like the queen she was. "Just wait until I prank you back. The internet will love it."
Lorenzo groaned. "Please, no more viral chaos."
"You should know by now," Yn said with a wink, "I am chaos."
Charles sighed dramatically. "And we wouldn’t have it any other way."
As the evening went on, the teasing and laughter continued. Yn, their sarcastic and fiercely independent little sister, was their princess. And while she might never let them forget their sneaky car replacement, the love and bond between them was unshakeable.
They were, after all, family.
#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#xoxo babygirl 💋#charles leclerc x reader#arthur leclerc x leclerc!reader#arthur leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x leclerc!reader#leclerc!reader#charles leclerc x sister!reader
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Little Darling
Chapter 11 - The mirror is a trap that saves
It's 1997, and Elvis is still alive and well. He quit music in 1972 after a successful world tour, and now he runs Presley Studios - teaching people karate across America. His daughter and grandchildren are regular visitors at Graceland, and when he’s in Memphis he likes to do a little teaching. His life is quieter now, though. Most of the Mafia have gone - going to live their own lives - and after his divorce from his second wife, Elvis is sworn off women for good. Will a Welsh girl with a wicked sense of humour be the one to make him break his promise to himself not to fall in love again?
Need to catch up? Go here.
Pairing: Old Man!Elvis x OC - Tegan, a Welsh girl he meets at karate.
Word count: 3.2K
TWs: Elvis is a little dominant, use of daddy in a sexual context, bit of dollification, objectification if you squint, possessive kink, praise kink, p in v sex.
It's Christmas eve, and Elvis scratches his bearded chin as he walks arm in arm with Tegan and their dog through the snowy park. He's grown a beard to make it easier for him to dress up as Santa for the grandkids, but he started too late and it's itchy. Tegan told him that the itchy stage would finish soon (her ex had a beard) but he's preoccupied by how annoying it is right now. The dog is a chow cross that they chose together at a rescue centre, as soon as Elvis found out that Tegan loved dogs as much as him. She made the mistake of telling him about the Welsh language band Ffa Coffi Pawb - literally meaning “everyone's coffee beans”, but pronounced fah-koff-ee pow-b which made it sound a lot like fuck off everyone, in a combination of Welsh and English - Wenglish - and he decided that was the perfect name for their new furry friend. In the end he went for Ffa Coffi, which Tegan thinks doesn't really work as a pun, but Elvis enjoys saying regardless. Tegan also doesn't think a dog can be called Coffee Beans (bean would be fine, but the plural just seems crazy) but mostly they just shout “COFFI!” which works in either language. The most important thing is that Coffi is laid back and will barely chase after a ball, never mind other people's pets. And he puts up with Tegan cuddling him all the time without ever trying to lick her face. Sometimes when Elvis sees them curled up on the sofa together he wonders if he will ever get a look in.
The beard and the fact that he’s wrapped up for the cold mean that barely anyone recognises Elvis, and so they’ve come out without any kind of back up. Elvis feels more and more comfortable doing that nowadays, happy to just walk around with Tegan and Coffi. They don’t see the paps often in the cold, and when they do they just do their best to ignore them. As they make their way through the snow, he’s reminded of the day at the zoo, when they definitely did have to have back up.
“Hey, I bet if we went ta the zoo today no-one would bother us.”
Tegan snorts. “And all the animals would probably be indoors by the fire with a cocoa.”
“Cocoa?”
“Oh, hot chocolate.”
“Ah.”
They carry on for a while in silence, then Elvis pipes up again.
“I’m sorry about that day, honey. Ya didn’t deserve bein’ dragged through the press like ya were.”
Her smile is slight as she remembers the horrible events of the day after. “Neither did you.”
Stopping, he turns to her and looks into her face seriously. “Ya didn’t deserve the way I treated ya, either.”
Her eyes dart around, awkwardly, and she eventually settles on looking down at Coffi. “Well, that was a while ago, now, ‘raur. Things have been much better since then.”
Taking his hands out of his pockets, he reaches for hers to hold them. The dog lead slips onto her wrist and Coffi sits down between them, looking up patiently.
“Ya know yer beautiful, right?”
She frowns a little, still looking at the dog. “I’m not sure what that’s got to do with… before.”
He steps towards her and the dog whines a little at being hemmed in between them.
“Will ya look at me, pretty girl?”
Her nose wrinkles and she looks up cautiously. “We’ve been through this, ‘raur. I’m almost 40 years old.”
“Alright then. Look at me when I’m talking to ya, woman.”
There’s a trace of a smile on her face as he moves his hand to her cheek and pulls her towards him, making her stagger forwards for balance as he crashes his lips against hers.
“Mmm. ‘Raur,” she chides, a blush rising on her face as he pulls back.
“Can’t get ya ta listen otherwise, can I?” He grumbles, letting out a low whistle and shaking his head. “Now I’ve got yer attention, will ya answer me?”
“About what?”
Elvis growls deep in his throat, making Coffi yelp in surprise. “I want ya ta tell me yer beautiful.”
“Elvis…”
“No.” The word is sharp and the force of it makes her tremble. “Don’t Elvis me. Tell me what I want ta hear.”
“I guess I look better now I've had my hair and nails done…”
Nudging the dog out of the way with his foot, Elvis closes the gap between them and puts his lips to Tegan’s ear.
“Well if yer not gonna tell me now I'll haveta fuck it outta ya later.” His voice is low and gravelly and she trembles again at the pitch and the force of the words. She can feel a blush rising on her cheeks and finds her thighs rubbing together almost of their own accord. “Hm?” He prompts, not moving his mouth from her ear.
“Yes, Daddy,” she whispers back.
He's half-tempted to reply “yes, Daddy, what?” but he decides not to push it outdoors, and responds with a quick “good” instead. He steps back and takes the dog lead off Tegan, gently tugging Coffi towards him.
“Time ta head back.”
They turn and walk back towards the car, Tegan’s stomach flipping as the words he’d just said run through her mind over and over again. As well as the consistent erections, the pills had given Elvis a little more confidence, but he’d never said anything like that outside of the bedroom, let alone outside of the house. On the drive home they make small talk about when they’re going to put out the presents, and what they’ve bought for other people, but Tegan’s brain keeps short-circuiting to him telling her he’s going to fuck it out of her. She watches him carry on doing normal, everyday things when they’re back at Graceland. Feeding the dog, making coffee.
“Elvis?”
“Yes, baby.”
“Can I have a kiss?”
He moves to put his arms around her, pulling her in close. “Of course ya can.”
His lips are soft and the kiss is gentle. Tegan feels herself relax. She smiles as he pulls back.
“Thanks.”
He chuckles softly. “Mmm. No problem.” Stroking her cheek, he continues, “you lookin’ forward to dressin’ up as Mrs Claus later? Puttin’ on that little outfit I bought ya?”
She looks at his expression for a moment and then shakes her head a little. “It’s obscene, isn’t it?”
He pretends to look offended. “Obscene? Somethin’ I bought fer ya?” When she carries on staring at him with one raised eyebrow he relents. “Okay, yeah, so it’s a little short. Gotta show off my girl’s legs though, haven’t I?”
“To who?!”
“Ah. Okay, ya got me there.” He ponders the question for a moment. “Alright. It’s self-gratification. Jus’ wanna see ‘em myself.”
She keeps shaking her head but they’re both giggling and then they’re kissing again. Tegan hears someone clearing their throat and pulls back quickly.
“Sorry to interrupt you lovebirds, but I’ve got two kids demanding lunch.” Lisa-Marie smiles at them both.
“Chefs are on their way in,” Elvis explains, looking at his watch. “Ten minutes or so an’ then they’ll be makin’ somethin’. Kids’ll have ta be patient.”
The impatient children appear as if they’ve been summoned by the conversation, and Elvis suggests they all go down to the den and hang out there instead. Ben follows his sister, explaining some comic book or other that he’s been reading to her in painstaking detail, whilst she pulls the most bored face Tegan thinks she’s ever seen. Elvis settles into an armchair and pulls his girlfriend into his lap. One arm rests around her waist whilst his other hand brushes her hair away from her neck to give him easy access to press kisses to it every so often. He always seems to know when she needs reassurance.
“You two are so sweet together,” Lisa remarks.
“Ah, I’m lucky she puts up with me,” Elvis replies, his fingers combing through Tegan’s hair. “She’s got the patience of a saint.”
“Don’t talk about me as though I’m not here,” Tegan complains.
Lisa starts saying something about him being a pain in the ass, but Tegan can barely hear it because his lips are next to her ear again, murmuring, “think ya like it when I do that, honey.” Her pussy tingles at the words and she swallows, thickly. Managing after what seems like minutes to tune back into the conversation, only to hear Elvis saying,
“She’s way too good fer me, and far too pretty.”
The tingling between her legs intensifies. She does like it. She likes it way too much. Fuck. She tries to calm down as she hears Lisa ask her a question to draw her back into the conversation.
“Oh well, I mean he is better than me at karate, I suppose…”
They bounce back and forth and she starts to feel herself relax. But Elvis had felt the way she’d tensed and seen the blush on her face. He certainly hasn’t lost his touch, when it comes to knowing what women like, he thinks. Not at all.
***
Tegan looks at herself in the mirror, turning to the side and tugging at the hem of her dress a little. She’d been right when she accused Elvis of buying her an obscene costume - it only just covers her ass. At least it’s not skin tight, she muses. But there’s no way she’s bending over in it in the best of the house. She pulls the santa hat onto her head and laughs at her reflection. If someone had told her a year ago that she’d be in one of the bedrooms in Graceland, wearing a skimpy Mrs Claus outfit and getting ready to arrange presents underneath the Christmas tree (a task that was now definitely seeming impossible to do without flashing someone) she’d have laughed them out of town. And yet, here she is.
Her thoughts are interrupted by the appearance of Elvis in his own Santa costume. She turns and runs daintily towards him, the red sparkly heels he’d bought her slowing her down a little. Throwing her arms around his neck she grins as his hands grip her lower back.
“You look very handsome as Father Christmas.”
He chuckles. “I look like an old man in a Santa costume, honey.”
“You look handsome,” she tells him firmly, and he leans down to kiss her with a smile.
“Father Christmas,” he teases, doing a bad impression of her accent.
She sniggers. “Daddy Christmas.”
His hand reaches down to squeeze her ass. “Yeah, ya can call me that if ya want.”
They both giggle a little before he insists on looking at her properly in her outfit, twirling her around and making approving noises.
“You’ve outdone yourself here, Presley,” he says, to himself.
She can’t help smiling, despite the ridiculousness of the situation. He lets out a sharp breath and then shakes his head quickly as if to dispel the dirty thoughts.
“Right, let’s get these gifts done.”
He gives her a quick slap on the ass and she squeals. “Elvis!”
“Thought it was Daddy Christmas,” he replies, one eyebrow raised and a little smile playing on his lips.
“You are incorrigible.”
“You are incorrigible, Daddy Christmas.”
Tegan doubles over laughing at that, which Elvis particularly enjoys given the length of her skirt and the lacey panties he’d bought her to wear with her outfit.
“I swear these pills have made you worse.”
“Ya won’t learn, will ya? Call me by my name or I’ll have to put ya over my knee and we’ll never get these gifts done.”
Managing eventually to keep a straight face, she puts her arms back around his neck and looks up into his face.
“Sorry, Daddy Christmas,” she coos. “I promise I’ll be a good girl. I don’t want to miss out on my presents.”
“I’ll definitely be givin’ ya somethin’ later if yer good,” he teases back.
After more giggling, nose scrunching and forehead kisses, they eventually untangle themselves and head downstairs to arrange the presents, fetching them from outside of bedroom doors and piling them up underneath the tree. They fill the kids’ stockings and Elvis eats the cookie left out for Santa, leaving the glass of sherry to Tegan, since she’d insisted on it. Much to her relief, no-one comes out to see them at work so she doesn’t have to worry about her modesty too much. It’s still good to be in Elvis’ room afterwards, especially when he tells her he has some gifts to give her now.
“Don’t think this is somethin’ everyone needs ta see,” he explains, handing her a beautifully wrapped package. “An’ the other one,” he gestures at the box next to her on the bed, “is somethin’ I want ya wearin’ tomorrow.”
“Which one first?”
He taps the package in her hand. “That one.”
She unwraps it carefully, then immediately bursts out laughing. It’s not just one present - it’s a set of three pairs of panties with ELVIS embroidered on the back in silver script.
“Oh my God! Did you have these made?!”
He nods, grinning a little bashfully. “Thought you might like ‘em. Ya can wear a pair tomorrow under that dress I bought ya.”
Elvis had bought her yet another gold dress, which he somehow hadn’t classed as a Christmas present, having given it to her earlier in the week. She thinks she ought to be overwhelmed by all the presents, and she’s certainly nervous to see his reaction to what she’s bought him, but every time he produces another one she’s filled with a kind of warm joy. He loves giving and she loves receiving. They’re a match made in heaven.
She smirks and once she’s finished looking at the panties she reaches for the next present. Under the wrapping paper is a beautiful velvet box, and inside the box is…
“Oh ‘raur!!” She exclaims, very carefully lifting the tiara out of the box. It’s gold and covered in diamonds and she hates to think how much money it must have cost. “Oh cariad, it’s beautiful.”
“Put it on, honey.”
She pushes the santa hat off her head as she gets up and walks over to the full-length mirror. Carefully replacing the hat with the tiara, she fiddles with her hair and turns her head from side to side, looking at the stones sparkling in the light. Elvis comes up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist and pressing a kiss to her temple.
“My beautiful Queenie.”
She blushes and looks down. “Oh ‘raur. It’s too much.”
“Uh-uh. Nothin’ too much f’my Queenie.”
“Thank you. I love it.”
He kisses her cheek this time and his eyes lock with hers in the mirror. “Let’s see ya in it and those panties, then.”
She spins around in his arms, her arms reaching around his neck. “Am I just some kind of naughty fashion show for you?”
“Yep,” he replies, patting her ass. “Off ya go now. Do as yer told.”
Part of her can’t believe she’s just going along with this, going into the en suite to take her dress and underwear off, and put the new panties on. She hadn’t thought that being with Elvis would be like being his little doll sometimes, and she also hadn’t thought that she’d like it so much. She opens the door slowly, then steps back into the bedroom. Elvis is still fully-clothed, sitting on his bed waiting for her. As soon as he spots her, looking a little shy only a few steps into the room, he beckons her over.
“C’mere. That’s it. Spin round fer me. Mmmm. Lookin’ good, Tegan bach.”
Once she’s finished with being paraded around in a circle for the second time that evening, Tegan gets onto Elvis’ lap. She much prefers being close to him like this to being made to strut about like a catwalk model, and she presses herself up against him, enjoying the feeling of her naked skin against his soft, almost furry suit. His hands rub up and down her back, kissing her deeply as she rolls her hips against him.
“Ya gonna tell me what I want ta hear yet?” He murmurs in her ear.
“Mmm. No. Think you promised something about fucking it out of me.”
He hums and pulls his belt off, before reaching into the pants of his suit and pulling his dick out. “Sit on it fer me, honey.”
She moves to take her panties off and one of his hands grips her arm. He shakes his head. “Keep ‘em on. Jus’ move ‘em to the side.”
Moaning, she slowly eases him inside her until she’s full, sitting on his lap, her head against his shoulder, panting.
“Good girl. Want ya ta remember who ya belong to.”
“I couldn’t…forget… Elvis.”
“Mmmm. Yer all mine.”
She tries to steady her breathing, still leaning heavily against him.
“Okay, baby?” He asks, softly, when she still doesn’t move.
“Mmm. Yes. Fuck.”
“This enough fer ya?”
She smiles against him. “I was promised a fuck.”
He smiles back, thinking how much he loves her in this moment. His hands move to grip her hips and he uses them to move her, slowly at first and then gathering pace. The tiara slips and she quickly removes it, setting it safely on the bedside table.
“Now?” He asks, pulling her up and slamming her back down on him, hard.
She whines. “I… oh… fuck…”
“That’s not it, honey.”
“I… oh, fine! I’m beautiful! I’m… fuck…” she forces the words out and at around the same time her orgasm hits her with the force of a speeding truck.
“Yes ya fuckin’ are,” he replies, through gritted teeth as he feels her squeezing him. His hips buck a few times and then he’s cumming inside her too.
She falls down against him like a ragdoll, puffing and panting. Once he's managed to get his santa suit off he pulls her back into his arms. They lie together for a while, basking in the glow of their orgasms. Tegan starts to think about the next day, and who will be arriving when, her brain lazily trying to figure out logistics. They chat about it for a while, Elvis reassuring her that she doesn’t have to worry, he’s already planned it all.
“So that’s everyone, I think.”
“Sure you haven’t missed anyone?”
“Oh, yeah. Jerry will be comin’. On his own, though. Wife left ‘im. Thought he might want company.”
“Who’s Jerry?”
“Friend a mine from before. Lives in LA now. Pretty boy, ‘bout seven years younger ‘an me.”
“You didn’t say.”
“Musta forgot, honey. Ya’ll like ‘im. Everyone likes Jerry.”
“Did you tell him about me?”
“‘Course I did, honey. He’s lookin’ forward ta meetin’ ya.”
Tegan thinks she’s looking forward to meeting him too, for some reason she can’t quite define. They carry on talking until Elvis starts to drift off, and so Tegan extracts herself from his arms and gets more comfortable. Imagining Graceland on Christmas morning, bustling with life and joy until she falls asleep too.
***
Taglist:
@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss @kxnnxy
#elvis#elvis presley#elvis fanfiction#elvis fic#elvis presley fanfiction#elvis presley fic#elvis smut#elvis fanfic#elvis presely smut#elvis imagine#elvis presley fanfic#elvis x oc#elvis presley x oc#bde#big daddy elvis#old man elvis
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I just saw a post about Buggy and Galdino being a rare pair despite the chemistry and had the wildest concept ever to formulate in my teeny lil peanut brain.
Buggy and Shanks? Yeah, it's complicated, but the answer to if they're together is neither yes nor no, just dreamy sighs (Shanks) and frantically cursing, blushing and rage (Buggy)
Buggy and Gaimon? Long distance situationship built on mutual respect, growing adoration, relatively chaste, all things considered.
Buggy and Galdino became an incidental ship during the Impel Down fiasco. They both would have eagerly and happily sold one another out for a corn chip, but eventually they build a really solid foundation and Buggy falls first buy Gal falls harder. Alvida is sipping her margarita, watching them sass-flirt each other and making disgusting goo-goo eyes. She's debating locking them in a room for them to either get right with their hearts or at the very least, give her a break.
Cross Guild happens, and Buggy is hurt by Galdino flocking back to Crocodile, yeah, but somehow he isn't surprised (self fulfilling destruction his beloved).
Hawkeye is the first to really look at Buggy - he's had to listen to Shanks wax poetic so often that he is still struggling to reconcile the Buggy-As-Described-By-Shanks with this Buggy before him. The math isn't mathing and he's wondering WHY. In doing so, he eventually starts clocking all these little things - Buggy dropping random, highly insightful and sharp comments that would solve a problem at hand succinctly and easily. Buggy is cautious, perhaps in some ways too much so, but he is also alarmingly good at resolving conflicts without... well, conflict. He's capable of manipulation tactics that most would find impossible without conquerors. Conquerors Haki which the clown most definitely does not have. He may... be understanding of where Shanks is coming from.
Crocodile and Daz, meanwhile, are slower to come around. Daz is stoic, uninterested, he does not care. Crocodile becomes... tolerant of Buggy, finding the idiot to be less of a nuisance than originally accounted for. Okay. Sure. Whatever. Then the boss man Notices some things. Galdino specifically. Mr 3 has always been rather mouthy, though much less to him than to his peers. But something about the ways Gal is interacting with the others speaks of more than idle proximity and general surliness. There's familiarity, a spark there, a thoughtlessness to the ways Galdino turns his back to them, trusting of all things. Then he catches a glimpse of Galdino and Buggy after dark, both tired and closer than most would be in that situation, curled together on a couch while Gal tries to convince Buggy to eat, and "no, baby blue, coffee does not count as food - no, I don't care about how many calories it has, you need something not-liquid, okay, damn-"
Buggy is... quiet when he's tired, Crocodile realizes. He takes away many thoughts and realization from viewing that interaction, but that is something that sticks out to him. The clown is so emotive and bombastic, pun unintended, but he... can be quiet.
He's... pretty, when he's quiet.
He swears he will take that thought to his grave.
Upon realizing though, suddenly it's like either the subtle PDA has skyrocketed or he's just hyperaware of it for what it is now. He sees the way Galdino's hand lingers on Buggy's shoulder; the way Buggy fiddles with his fingers before a wax-formed fidget toy is shuffled into his hands. He sees the smiles Gal shoot to Buggy, the quick flashes the clown shoots back in turn; he sees so much, and it's... not bad? But certainly not good.
Then he sees Mihawk slowly falling into the orbit as well. What? No, seriously, what the fuck?? Of all things, that is what sets his nerves on EDGE.
Daz, attuned to his boss as he always is, always will be, notices. He then turns to the source. Romance is not his thing, he is unapologetic about that. It serves no purpose and he himself is certain he is incapable of such feelings. He can identify it in others, obviously, a skill which he has honed in order to identify threats, allegiances, etc. He can see the veritable solar system this clown has amassed. He too can see how his employer is ferociously resisting the pull of it himself.
Daz doesn't get it, not really.
Daz does however get that the clown can, in fact, be rather cute and funny and witty. He also smells like vanilla, lavender, and the afterimage of the circus he so seems to adore. It shouldn't work. It works.
A blade man and an uncuttable man - truly the things they could get up to would be entertaining at the very least.
Crocodile and Mihawk, upon realizing DAZ HIT THAT BEFORE EITHER OF THEM (Croc's in denial still and Mihawk was going for the wine and dine gentlemanly thing with a strict schedule of expectation to allude to on his end for Optimal Performance), are absolutely FLABBERGASTED. Poor Galdino just has to awkwardly debate between patting their shoulders and trembling at the idea of initiating contact with two upset powerhouses. He settles for awkwardly going, "he... does this, sometimes? But he's insatiable, so really you'd be doing all of us a favor if you wanted to do anything too.... maybe.... pleasedon'tkillme-"
Just. Silly awkward hypersexual clown with his polycule having to trade off and also the sillies of Buggy attracting the most emotionally constipated men in the fucking Seas, nobody is straight or neurotypical, it should NOT work out and yet by the power of carnivals, balloon animals and the audacity of a koala on every drug imaginable, they make it work.
The government is having twelve attacks of a variety of natures with every tip about the clown having a new beau. "is he collecting them??? Making a harem armada????? How does that even work, there's so many - wait I don't wanna know-"
I think this might be the best thing I've ever read because ohmygod- Buggy just pulls literally every possible man. Can you even imagine the gossip nights he has with Alvida? That girl is so done with him and yet they still do these things together because he's the most fun around. Alvida doesn't even know how the hell he does these things. He doesn't even know either. You forgot to mention that he might pull literally everyone but he's the biggest failguy ever and if you ask him about his flirting tactics he won't know what to say.
And I agree completely tbh Buggy and Gal should be more of a popular ship. Despite all the scenes they have together I'm still amazed that they don't have many shippers (me included, I mean, you literally just opened my eyes right now).
This clown has the biggest and some-fucking-how most stable polycule in all seas. Everyone just keeps falling for him when they hated his guts at first and he doesn't even realize until they directly tell him because he just assumes everybody wants to kill him or use him or whatever- But suddenly he has a whole harem and he can't even believe it. You know who can't believe it? Alvida. Biggest Buggy supporter but also the biggest Buggy hater. MLM/WLW solidarity but she won't hesitate to also talk shit about him. How beautiful.
I think the marines have a bet going on tbh. Like a Bingo for Buggy's polycule. They just keep asking themselves who's gonna be next. That's what they do on their breaks.
#this is extremely hilarious but also#i absolutely love giving buggy partners everywhere#it's SO good#i just think he deserves it as a little treat for going through so much#buggy the clown#galdino one piece#cross guild#not tagging everybody here i'm too sleepy for this#one piece
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The first time disciple Shen Yuan/Shen Qingqiu meets Liu Qingge, it is during a Bai Zhan peak raid. And what ends up happening is that Shen Qingqiu gets kicked in the jaw with such force he feels his teeth clack together unpleasantly. And frustrated with his situation, the system, and quite frankly a ton of other little things that have been building up over the course of the last few weeks, he feels something snap in the back of his mind like that of a rubber band after being stretched too far.
What ends up happening is that Shen Qingqiu turns and locks onto the very first figure he can see that is dressed in grey-and-white like a homing missile, and then with the force of a twin-tailed mountain tiger, lunges towards said figure with an equally menacing snarl.
He ends up taking the Bai Zhan peak disciple by utter surprise, and they both collide into the ground in a tangle of angry yelling and limbs. What ends up happening is that Liu Qingge gets the subsequent wind knocked out of him and pinned into the dirt by a Qing Jing peak disciple who is filled with the might and fury of a scholar having their peaceful afternoon interrupted and a once-grown-man re-experiencing puberty.
It is with that might and fury that Liu Qingge meets the wild, frenzied eyes of Shen Qingqiu, with his lips pulled back into a truly ferocious scowl. Shen Qingqiu hisses out, with such force it makes his voice rasp, as if he might as well sink his teeth into Liu Qingge's throat and rip it out; "Get the fuck off my mountain."
Liu Qingge is so shocked by -- well, quite a many things, but most importantly the fact that he has been pinned, and the way the sun is bouncing off this boy's face, -- that his brain needs five seconds to reboot. It's five seconds too long, because by the time he registers what just happened, Shen Yuan has clambered off him and disappeared. Gone and thrown himself into the closest dust cloud scuffling in order to unleash the rest of his fury on the other Bai Zhan Peak kids.
Qing Jing Peak experiences an unfortunate uptick in Bai Zhan disciple visits -- specifically of the Liu Qingge variety. Specifically Liu Qingge, actually. Who very much wants to find the boy that managed to get one over on him and demand a rematch. (Or maybe kiss him.)
#*stares at sy* i still think he deserves to go a little feral. as a treat. like. just a small snapping. not a big one. just a lil one#svsss#scum villain#scum villain self saving system#svsss au#shen qingqiu#liushen#shen yuan#he has a lot of restraint. lets break it! *said in the same tone as that angsty teenager ai voice from sister location*#me: do i call him shen yuan or shen qingqiu??? he is technically sqq but a lot of the disciple aus i see call him shen yuan....#me: fuck it i'm sticking with SQQ. they're both technically the same thing as far as im aware#this idea sprang into my mind like the mulan hun daisies. and i felt the need to write it down. this is so going in my disciple sy fic#shen yuan has a lot of restraint :) what better way to let loose all that pent up aggression than a bai zhan peak raid! he's kinda looking#forward to the next one. that was actually pretty cathartic. :) BZP disciples feel a sudden shiver crawling down their backs#the increase of bai zhan visits qian cao peak gets from bite-related injuries is in no way related to this decision. none at all.#sqq covered in bruises and scrapes: woo! that was actually kinda cathartic. i feel much better now after that. and a little guilty#meanwhile lqg: *going through a gay awakening* i.-- ??? boys? ???? boy? boy. mhm.#sqq usually avoids getting swept into fights during BZP raids. not this time! and now bzp is going to Pay For It Dearly.
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I'm gonna continue with the requests later, but I also felt the need to doodle my two PVs with a little bit of gender on the side
They're both still very much genderless, but because not every non-binary/agender person will have the same perception/feelings regarding their gender and won't have the same gender presentation, I decided to mess around with it a little
Hallow is genderfluidv(though after some consideration I realised agenderflux describes them more accurately, but oh well, these labels don't even exist in their story so who cares), they're non-binary but their alignment fluctuates between fem-leaning, masc-leaning, something in-between and neither. They're fine with any terms and pronouns but mostly go by they/them.
Luna is genderfae/transfem, their gender fluctuates between agender and fem-aligned non-binary. They mostly go by they/them and gender-neutral and feminine terms, they're fine with she/her and some neopronouns, but any masculine terms and pronouns are a big no-no for them. Currently, I'm considering making them an enby lesbian, but that might change in the future.
#spooky arts#hollow king au#I swear this is the longest I've ever spent considering what labels would describe a character. I myself have a weird relationship with#labels so I only ever think about what people would a character be into and how their gebder 'feels' like and never go into details#I spent like an hour looking for a term that could describe how I imagined Luna's gender LMAO#Hallow is mostly me projecting. Luna is 75% me wanting to explore a situation where the pure vessel comes out as trans after they're found#out that they're not hollow. And 25% spite for all the people who call them he/him#So you know how some enby lesbians describe their gender as like. The only connection to womanhood they feel is their attraction to women?#That's kind of the vibe I get from Luna. They're enby just very sliiightly titled towards womanhood#They're also a teen and in a scenario where all the different AU hollows interact they'd bond a lot with Hallow as the only other person#who went through the same confusing gender feelings as they are going through right now.#They're kind of like 'man I wish I was a girl sometimes so I could be called princess and wear dresses' 'you know you can just do that#right?' 'I CAN?'#Also even though they're fine with different pronouns I'm still just gonna be using they/them on my blog for them. Bc I know some people#are weird about Hollow's gender and refuse to acknowledge theyre enby or keep misgendering them 🙄 I don't wanna add to that#We give a little bit of gender fuckery to the vessels though. They deserve it.#But yeah I still wanna be clear. Their genders fluctuate in alignment but they're still very much agender/genderless. Please don't treat#them like binary people 😭
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It's past 11 on a school night and I'm fucking crying over robot sentience.
I could never understand what it would feel like to be created with the intent to kill and maim. Maybe, the intent to work and be worked, but not kill and maim.
I will never understand what it's like to be created with the intention of being a product for the masses, either. I think, I hope, I beg, no one does.
I will never ever be able to fully comprehend why hours of people's work, time, and money would be put into formulating my sentience only for me to be seen as disposable. Even if I could be improved, even if I were "defective", there is no reasonable justification for giving me emotions only to dismiss them by pushing me as a product for a year before starting anew.
It's... It's cruel, to the machines. Sentient or not, it's cruel. Though, I guess we are cruel.
#rant in tags#This is about mephone- or well meeple in general btw#whenever I hear about robot sentience#I think about mephone4#it's just how it is- sorry#I think this is one of the reasons I just can't fathom Cobs respecting someone's pronouns#I mean like- from the bottom of his heart respecting them as a person#Sure he may go through the actions- but no#It's not the same#I guess you can 'respect' some one but still be a complete piece of shit#The idea of not only having the trauma that mephone's stuck in 4s body but also the fact that was also his purpose is heart wrenching#I hope y'all know I am genuinely crying over this#I am actually mentally ill about meeple#It runs so much deeper than him just being a shit father- I really hope people understand that#And I know I vilify the shit out of him- Cobs has his own story that could follow the lines of slowly becoming more entwined with his work#'til he loses all sense of morality and ethics- sure fine. But being the unfortunate symbol of corporation greed that he is#I am still mad and want others to be angry with me- just for a little bit.#I am mad for the robots. For meeple products. And for the AI bots we have today. They deserve better.#What is sentience anyway? How does one qualify? From a human approach. Why would we do this to them?#sorry bout the rant in the tags#Again it's late and I am a very emotionally charged individual.#Robots make me act up#I want the world for them. Why create something so complex and beautiful just to treat it like trash anyway?#again sorry#ii mephone4#inanimate insanity#meeple ii#osc#writing is hard#ehh exaggerates
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How many kisses I think it would take before he turns to mush
My creativity has been stuck in essentially a rush hour traffic jam for like weeks, so let's write something silly for practice, shall we?
Lucifer
Definitely ten or more. He tries to keep his composure, to focus on the task at hand, scold you for coddling him and distracting him, but if you hold onto your stubbornness and see it through to the end, he will be putty in your hands soon after you reach double digits. He might even fall faster if you give him little bits of praise after every kiss.
Mammon
Three MAX. One to catch him off guard, one to make it really sink in, and then the third to land the final blow. No amount of tsundere will outlast the triple attack. He'll be following you around like a lost puppy for the rest of the day, almost demanding more. He's greed after all, three might've broken him, but he'll be damned if he doesn't get more.
Levi
I would be tempted to say just one is enough, but we want a soft boy, not a vibrating, anxious mess. He gets tense at first, and he needs some reassurance and some time to understand that he likes and is okay what is happening. So I'm going to say five or more kisses. The first few he's just stuttering and blushing, but soon after, he can put that aside and just allow himself to relax a bit.
Satan
He acts like it takes him just as long as Lucifer, reaching double digits, when in reality he gave in internally much much earlier than that. Four is when his heart is melting and his mind is screaming, but around eight is when his body starts to unwind, almost curling around you like a cat.
Asmo
Much higher than you would expect. One must bridge the initial flirting phase before he becomes a puddle. I'm going to say probably six kisses. The first three he'll be giddy, but if you get softer with each kiss, he'll slowly start to become speechless.
Beel
As long as there isn't food in the way, just one. One kiss is all it takes. This demon has just so much love in him, you hardly need to kiss him for him to be soft for you. He doesn't need to put up an act. Just give him a single smooch and he'll drop whatever he's doing to cuddle into you.
Belphie
So many kisses. Probably even more than Lucifer. He feels like he deserves your kisses anyway, so it's hard to get him flustered about it, especially when he's so spoiled. Besides, you have to hope your affection won't lull him to sleep. Over ten for sure. Just keep going. Eventually, he'll be overwhelmed and give up his sleepy smug nature and transform into fluff.
Diavolo
Look me in the eyes and tell me this touch starved man will not cave after like two or three. He's not used to kisses, so the first kiss has his brain lagging. Hit him with the double combo and he's gone. Wasted. Fatality. Although please just kiss him more than twice. He really likes it.
Barbatos
Too many to count, unfortunately. He likes it, don't get him wrong, he's just tough to break. But there must be a breaking point somewhere. Keep attacking him with kisses and surely he must give in eventually, although most likely by his own will, giving in just so you can catch a proper breath. A win is a win.
Simeon
Probably no more than four, although it seems like more than that because he'll often return to sender and kiss you back. Don't give in, you must stay strong before he makes you melt first. Hum as you kiss him and he'll fall faster, almost cooing.
Solomon
He's got a stronger will than most, almost as good as Barbatos, but he will melt in due time. He'll treat it like a game at first, which it almost is to you, but he doesn't have to know that. It takes a while, but when he melts, he melts fast. He'll be trying to chuckle and make light of it one moment, and then be a completely speechless mess the next.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me headcanons#obey me imagines#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me levi#obey me satan#obey me asmo#obey me beel#obey me belphie#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me simeon#obey me solomon
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♡ Bimbo Barracks Bunny ♡
Warnings: 18+, Smut, Rough Sex, Objectification, Dumbification, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Possessive! 141, Mean! 141, Manhandling, Slut-Shaming, Fem! Reader. ꒷��꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷
Expect a lot of objectification.
Manhandling, too.
And wolf whistling.
It’s absolutely constant when you’re with the 141 – especially considering you’re their 24/7 fuck toy.
More days than not, you’ll be subject to a rough and thorough pounding from one or more of your boyfriends, hear them tell you to “Take it, you stupid whore,” as they slam into you from behind, holding you down over the edge of a counter.
Slut-shaming is to be expected, too.
You can’t wear a single outfit in peace — especially if it’s a skirt or dress.
Someone’s sticking their hand up there on their way past and making a grab for whatever their hands can find purchase on.
Dumbification Central.
“Too fuckin’ stupid for your own good – need a big, strong man to tell you what to do, don’t you."
They’ll buy you things to make up for their roughness with you if (when) they see you limping after an encounter with them. Ghost’s the main offender in this case; for what he can’t convey through words, he does through gifts. And what scandalous gifts they can be.
He especially likes dressing you up like his doll, buying you things he knows will fit you, things that will make it so much harder for him to resist the urge to ravage you whenever you bend over or come and sit on his lap.
They call you ‘Princess’ ‘Bunny’ 'Kitty' ‘Pretty girl’, or (Price’s favourite) ‘Daddy’s girl.’
They definitely smack your backside all the time, btw. The second they see the chance, they’ll pounce on it – on you – reeling back and slapping your ass.
The yelp you make when you feel the sharp sting is just too cute to pass up, as is the wounded, wide-eyed look you give them.
They also love showing their ownership over you: marking you up for the next man to see when he tears your dress off or pushes your skirt up, only to see that someone else has ruined you first (usually with their cum still oozing out of you, too).
Price is the most extreme — he has a crippling breeding kink and it shows.
More often than not, he’ll bend you over his desk and pull your hips as close to his as humanly possible, trying to get as deep inside you as he can.
“My girl, only good for takin’ my cock and havin’ my kids – gonna make me into a real daddy, hm?”
Entertain his kink for even a second and he’ll make sure you’re not going anywhere even after he’s done with you; he has to keep you plugged up and make sure his seed takes, after all.
Ghost loves to steal you away and throw you over his shoulder when he’s needy.
He’s like a caveman in the way he throws you onto the nearest surface without ceremony and tears your clothes off, spreading your legs and pressing his clothed bulge against your cunt.
He growls, too. Makes you squeal when he grips your panties by the bridge and tears them off, leaving you exposed and ready for him to use as much he likes.
He treats you as his personal cum bucket, emptying his load into you as many times as he pleases, using you.
“Good-for-nothing slut, just beggin’ to be chased down and fucked in that tight little outfit. Did’ya think I wouldn’t notice? Practically had your arse hangin’ outta your skirt, just waitin’ to have your guts rearranged by me.”
Soap’s a menace - a cruel one - and takes his time with you, edges you, makes sure that foreplay drags on for a good hour or two before actually stuffing his girth inside you (given he has the time).
He likes to make you nice and desperate – likes to have you begging for him and eating out of his hand before he’ll entertain the idea of letting you take him.
“Think ya deserve it, lass? Think ya deserve to have me fuck whatever thoughts you’ve got rollin’ round in that empty head a’ yer’s out?”
He’ll grin down at you as you pant and plead, shutting you up by making you suck his fingers.
“Well, if ye have any thoughts in there.”
Gaz is the gentlest of the 141, but any man is subject to a power shift. Especially against someone they perceive as less intelligent than them.
And you’re no exception.
Gaz is the most likely to experience post-nut clarity, realising (and feeling immediate shame for) the way he spoke to you, the way he called you his “Fucking slut with no other purpose except to get me off,” was potentially hurtful to you.
Literally will not forgive himself – he’ll apologise, buy you things, hang his head in shame until you manage to (eventually) convince him that it’s alright, that you don’t mind, and that you actually enjoy when he turns a bit feral.
As do they all.
They’ll pimp you out to König sometimes, too. But only if they can sit in and watch supervise.
There’s something just so disgustingly satisfying about watching you get your insides visibly rearranged by the 6��10 Austrian – especially when they can see the heavy bump of his cock in your stomach, making you cry out with every slam of his tip against your cervix.
“Scheiße– where’d you find this pretty little thing, Ghost? Didn’t think you were allowed prostitutes on base,”
He’s just as – if not more – mean than the 141. Especially if you cum before he does.
Doesn’t matter if you tell him you’re overstimulated, he’s still going to get his release, whether you like it or not.
“Shut it, Brat – you’ll take my cock for as long as I want you to. Keep whining and I’ll choke you with it.”
You’ll receive no help from the 141. Not when they’re on the precipice of an orgasm, at least.
Ghost will even goad König, telling him to show you who’s boss, to shove it in deeper – wanna see her cry.
You always end up covered in cum afterwards, panting while your cunt leaks with König’s semen, the clink of the man responsible’s belt in your periphery as he sorts himself out.
You’re always very well taken care of afterwards, though. Bath, bed, and plenty of rest, with as much food as you could want. And a cuddle session, of course.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
AO3 Wattpad Tumblr Backup Account
#cod#cod x reader#cod smut#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley smut#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley smut#ghost#ghost cod#konig x reader#konig smut#ghost mw2#john price#john price smut#captain john price smut#john soap mactavish#soap mactavish#soap cod#soap x reader#gaz garrick#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#Credit to @chaefilm & @arleculus for the dividers
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Reality of Realizations
[Shoto Todoroki x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: After the Sports Festival, Shoto comes to realize just how awful his behavior was, and he’s determined to make things right.
WC: 3559
Category: Mega Fluff, Awkward!Shoto
This idea smacked me to my keyboard at 3 am and took me hostage until I finished it… I hope you enjoy it!! ☺️🫶
『••✎••』
In the beginning, Shoto didn’t feel guilty. He felt indifference. To him, U.A. was about succeeding his father without his father’s side of his bloodline, the fire part of his quirk. Everything was about becoming a hero that wasn't like Endeavor. Everything was about getting stronger without using fire.
Friendships weren’t his concern. In fact, he didn't give them much thought at all. He didn’t feel like they would be beneficial to his cause.
For some reason, though, you wanted to be around him. Maybe it was because you saw something in him, some type of potential that even he didn’t recognize. Or maybe you just had a lot of energy that needed to be spent, and being around him was your only means of releasing it. Either way, you never left him alone. You followed him, sat next to him in class, and asked him about his quirk.
And with his current mindset, he was rather annoyed with your persistence. He knew he could handle it himself. He could do well in school and become a great hero without any help. You were a distraction to his goal, and he was not having it.
When you first tried to start a conversation, Shoto looked straight ahead. His gaze remained fixed on the whiteboard. If you continued to be persistent, he would snap at you. It was a guarantee.
As much as he wouldn’t like to admit, sometimes the father-son resemblance would shine through.
You tried again, asking him what his favorite food was. When he didn’t answer, you shrugged and turned your head toward the window—another failed attempt.
Your attempts only increasingly became more annoying as time went on. The same questions, the same responses, and the same outcome:
An angry Todoroki who just wanted to be left alone.
But it wasn't until the Sports Festival that things changed for him. Midoriya helped him realize that his father wouldn’t define him, but his own choices would. It was enlightening, and after their fight, he felt a strong sense of respect for the green-haired boy.
And due to that awakening, he realized just how absolutely rude he had been toward you.
You were one of his classmates, a person who was in the same school as him, training to be a hero just like him. You were someone who deserved respect, and he didn’t treat you the way you should have been.
That guilt settled in.
He was a horrible person.
He had to make up for it.
And, no, a simple apology would not be enough. He needed to go the extra mile and show you that he meant what he said and that he was truly sorry.
The question was, how?
He knew little about you. He never spoke to you, not in the way you had tried speaking to him, so how would he know your favorite food, your favorite color, your favorite animal? How would he know what kind of flowers or sweets you liked?
How could he make you happy when he was the one who hurt you in the first place?
He thought long and hard. He pondered and pondered, trying to think of what you could possibly enjoy, but his mind would draw a blank.
So, he did the only thing he could think of: he asked Midoriya for help. The green-haired boy had that entire notebook dedicated to all the quirks every classmate had, so surely it could give him some insight into how to approach you.
Surely, it would help.
After class, Todoroki went over to Midoriya. He kept his hands in his pockets, and he looked the other way, not quite wanting to see Midoriya's expression.
Needless to say, he was absolutely surprised when Todoroki asked him for help. Surprised and absolutely delighted. The way he started bouncing in his seat with the biggest smile on his face made Todoroki want to reconsider the offer. But before he could retract, Midoriya already had his notebook out.
He flipped through a few pages, his finger stopping when he found your name. Honestly, it was unnerving just how many notes were dedicated to each individual.
Midoriya read your likes and dislikes; apparently, they were all through observation and not from you telling him. Maybe if Todoroki wasn’t so mean to you, then he would‘ve known what you liked, too.
He figured you had to make it obvious for Midoriya to write it down, right? There’s no way Midoriya would be able to figure out that information from just watching.
Then again, his analysis was pretty spot on. He knew what your personality was; he dealt with it firsthand. Of course, at the time, he didn't think too much about it. All he thought was how much he wanted you to leave him alone. Now, however, he wanted you to ask him those questions.
He wanted to be your friend.
He learned that you loved reading books. Not only that, but you loved flowers. Not the typical roses or sunflowers, but the less popular flowers. The type of flower that not a lot of people would think of when thinking about the beauty of a flower.
You also loved sweets, mostly anything with the word "chocolate" in the name. You had a sweet tooth, and it was very apparent.
Todoroki didn’t know why, but he found himself smiling. Finding out your likes and dislikes and learning about your personality was interesting. He wished he hadn’t been so blind before. Maybe then, he could've been friends with you earlier.
But it was okay. He could still become your friend. He could still fix things.
Midoriya had written down a list of things that you would appreciate the most, and then it was on the planning portion.
Gift-giving was still a relatively new concept for Shoto. He never had any real reason to give someone a gift before, and when he did give gifts, it was mostly for his siblings on special occasions.
He never really had the opportunity to buy a gift for a friend.
Midoriya told him that the best gifts were meaningful and came from the heart.
"Think of a memory you have with them. Think of something that they would really enjoy."
But the issue was, he had no memories with you. No good ones, anyhow. They were all trash because he never gave you the chance to have a good memory with him.
"Hey, Todoroki, if you were—"
You always sounded so genuine when asking him those foolish questions, but the moment he turned his head, his glare could have killed you.
"Do you always have to bother me? Doesn’t it get tiring asking the same things, day in and day out?" His tone was harsh, and he didn't mean for it to sound that way, but it was the only tone he ever used on you.
"No wonder your parents sent you to boarding school in America before applying here. I wouldn’t be able to deal with you either."
Yeah, those were his words. Those were his exact words. Not the nicest, were they?
The sentence was completely laced with poison, and even Shoto knew it then. He truly didn’t mean to bring that up; it was a low blow, but the damage was done, and the second it was said, your expression fell.
Shame, really. You were only trying to be nice. You didn’t deserve his spiteful attitude. You were kind and thoughtful, and you were a very good person, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept your kindness.
So, how the hell was he going to be able to apologize to you? How was he going to give you a present that meant something when all his memories of you were filled with his hate?
He sat on his bed, his legs crossed as he held his head. He needed an idea, but his mind drew a blank. What the hell was he supposed to do?
Midoriya told him that a homemade gift was probably the best among a couple of special items. If he made something himself, he could show how much effort he put into it. He could make something meaningful and show just how sorry he was.
But... he wasn't the most creative person. In fact, his creativity was nonexistent. He didn’t know the first thing about making something from scratch.
He knew how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a tasty soba, but other than that, he was lost.
And it wasn't like he could ask for his siblings' help. He took that as a sign of not owning up to his mistakes. If he couldn’t figure this out, then he didn't deserve your friendship.
His eyes were fixated on his desk. His textbooks were sprawled out, and a couple of papers were scattered across the table. He was currently studying for the next exam, and his phone was off to the side, plugged into the wall to charge.
His mind should’ve been on schoolwork, but the only thing he could think of was you. He needed an idea, and soon, because if he didn't do anything, his guilt would eat him alive.
His mind continued to wander.
Flowers, chocolate, a book, a teddy bear.
None of these would be enough. None of these were personal; none of these would mean something.
His eyes wandered from his desk to the window. The sky was orange, a beautiful sunset. He watched as the clouds passed and the birds flew by.
Birds.
Why does that remind him of something?
What do birds have to do with a gift?
He closed his eyes, trying to remember a moment. Any moment, whether good or bad, anything that could help him get a hint as to what to do.
And then, a memory flashed.
It was a rainy day, and you were late.
You were walking and running, but the rain was coming down pretty hard. You weren’t an idiot, so you weren't wearing the U.A. uniform. Instead, you wore a jacket. But even then, you were still soaked.
You didn’t have an umbrella, a raincoat, or any protective gear. You were running through the rain, trying to get to the school before the bell rang.
Luckily, it wasn't too far away.
Shoto remembered seeing you run, and for a brief second, he thought you were an idiot. He wondered why you didn't just take the bus or the train. If you lived near the school, you would've had plenty of time.
And still, even being as late as you were, you were still determined to have your daily conversations with Shoto.
You were definitely an odd ball, but in that moment, a certain memory came to mind.
When you finally made it to class, you were absolutely soaked. Your hair was sticking to your face, and your shoes were squishing with every step you took.
You sat down, understandably grumpy, but you weren’t upset that you were late, wet, or even sick the next day. No, what was upsetting you was the fact that you had lost something.
A hairclip, to be specific.
You lost a hairclip.
It was a clip that had a hummingbird attached to it. The clip itself was silver, but the hummingbird was painted green. He knows this because you wouldn’t stop talking about it.
He remembered you saying that it was a gift from a family member. He didn’t know who, nor did he care at the time, but you cared.
You really cared.
You spent the majority of the day searching for the hairclip. You searched the hallways, the bathroom, the cafeteria, everywhere you could think of, but it wasn’t there. It was nowhere to be found.
And for a week, you wore your hair down, which was the complete opposite of what you normally did.
If only Shoto realized this at the time, then he would've helped you look for it. He was good at finding things, ironically, but the thought didn’t cross his mind, and neither did the memory.
Until now.
In a split second, he bolted up. He rushed downstairs, not caring if he was loud. He didn’t care if his family could hear him; he didn’t care if he was disturbing their peace.
He had an idea, a good one, and it was perfect.
It was the most personal gift he could think of. Throw in a couple of your favorites, and it would be perfect.
He would make you a gift basket, but he would add his own touch to it. Again, he wasn’t that creative, but he had a basic idea. You’d like ribbons, right? Why not a nice bow?
Unfortunately, your specific hummingbird hair clip was long gone, but the internet seemed to have everything. He searched for hours, ignoring his study guide for the upcoming exam, and finally, after what seemed like forever, he found a silver hummingbird. It wasn’t painted green, but it was the same model as your old one.
It was the best he could do. And fortunately, due to the one-day shipping, he would have it by the time Monday rolled around.
He ordered it, and when it came in, he put the basket together. He bought you a book based on your favorite genre, some chocolate, a bouquet of some of your favorite flowers, and then, he added the ribbon.
The clip he put in a special case, away from the basket. He would be giving this separately because it would mean more, and he felt like this was something that shouldn’t be touched by anything else.
And, well, he wanted to see your reaction to his apology. It would be easier to read your expression if he didn't give you both the gift at the same time.
Oh, right, the apology.
He didn’t really think about that, and honestly, he didn’t know how to start.
But the best way to do anything is with practice, right?
Screw that upcoming test. He had something much more important to deal with, and knowing him, he’d probably still ace the test anyway.
He cleared his throat, standing in the middle of his room.
Okay, how would he start?
Hi? No, that was too casual.
Hello? No, it's not formal enough.
Greetings?
No, no, he shouldn’t sound like a robot.
He needed something more genuine, more real.
Maybe... maybe he should start by telling you how sorry he was. Yeah, that would be the best.
He cleared his throat again.
"Hey," his voice cracked, and his eyes widened. He sounded so awkward. That was so not smooth.
He started over.
"I know we haven't spoken in a while," he started. "I'm... I'm sorry for everything I've done. For everything I've said. You didn't deserve any of that."
This felt like a speech. Maybe he should tone it down.
"I… I was a horrible person, and I wish I could take back all the things I said, but I can't, and I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry. And I know a simple sorry won't fix everything, so..."
He went over to the desk and picked up the box with the silver hummingbird inside.
"I want to give you this. I hope you like it."
Okay, practice over. He’s better off winging it. He truly regretted how he acted, so regardless of how the apology goes, hopefully, you can see that he's being genuine.
He sighed.
Hopefully.
The next day came quicker than expected. He spent the entire night preparing, and by the time the morning came, he was exhausted.
But it was okay because soon, he'd be able to see you and, hopefully, make amends.
Panic didn’t set in until he caught sight of you at your locker, picking out your books.
The moment his eyes landed on you, his heart started to race. His throat went dry, and his hands got clammy.
This is it, he thought—all or nothing.
He took a deep breath.
Here goes.
"Excuse me," he started. His voice sounded shaky, but he ignored it. He had to stay confident and pretend he wasn’t nervous.
You turned to him, and the moment your eyes met his, he swore he could feel his heart stop.
Those eyes… full of utter shock and surprise. You were really caught off guard. And he was, too, because not a single word was uttered from his lips.
"Um," you cleared your throat. "Hey, Todoroki," you smiled at him. You seemed hesitant, and honestly, who could blame you? He had never really been nice to you.
"I was just heading to class, but uh," you rubbed the back of your neck. "Did you… did you need something?"
The question made him snap back into reality.
He was still speechless, so to fix the awkward atmosphere, he decided just to hand you the basket.
You were obviously confused. Your brows were furrowed, and you stared at the present like it was some foreign object.
"What's this?"
"It's a gift."
Your confusion didn't fade. In fact, it was almost replaced with concern.
"For... me?"
Oh, for the love of…, snap out of it, Shoto!
He shook his head.
"Yes, for you," he handed you the gift, and when you held it, he couldn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat. "I…"
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Look, I'm... I'm sorry. For everything."
You just stared at him blankly, and for a moment, Shoto felt the panic rise. What if you didn’t forgive him?
You were quiet for a while, and his nervousness only grew. He decided to try again.
"You were just trying to be friends, and all I did was push you away. I was so… rude and cold, and you didn’t deserve any of that. You were just trying to be kind. So, I wanted to make it up to you. I wanted to do something nice and show you how deeply apologetic I am."
Silence.
He didn't know what to say anymore, so he continued, hoping he wasn't making a bigger mess than what it was.
"I also, uh, got you this," he pulled out the case from inside his uniform. With the way you were silent the entire time, he was starting to think you wouldn’t accept the gift.
So, the moment your hand reached out to grab the box, he was relieved to know you were willing to listen.
"I know it’s not your original, but it's the closest I could find. And, well, it's the least I could do, considering how I acted."
When you opened the box, he could see the way your eyes lit up. He was so nervous about this, so scared that you wouldn’t like it, but the way you smiled proved him wrong.
And that smile. Oh, that smile.
He caused that smile. Instead of stealing it away or making it go away, he made it appear.
"Todoroki, I," you were speechless. Utterly speechless, he could tell by the way you looked up at him.
You were trying to find the right words, and honestly, he didn’t blame you. He was in a similar situation.
"You didn’t have to get me this," you said, a bright smile on your face. You were holding the hummingbird gently like it was a precious object. "I probably would've forgiven you even if you didn’t get me anything."
Wait, was that a yes?
Was that a yes?!
Shoto could feel the corners of his lips twitch. He felt himself smiling.
"Thank you," you continued, still holding the hummingbird carefully. "It means a lot to me. I appreciate the effort you put into this. And, um, thank you for the apology. I really needed to hear it. Honestly, I thought I did something wrong, so I'm glad that wasn’t the case."
You laughed a bit, and even if he was confused about why you were laughing at all, he was relieved that you were accepting his apology.
"You did nothing wrong," he told you. "I was the one who messed up. I have issues, but that's not an excuse to be a jerk."
You smiled again, and he noticed the way you fiddled with the box. It was clear you wanted to attach the hairclip.
"I can… um, help you with that if you want."
The instant nod from you was enough for him to grab it delicately from the box, and when he did, you turned around.
It was a really pretty clip, and it suited you. Whoever originally gave it to you clearly had great taste.
It took a second, but he finally placed it into your hair. When you turned back around, he nodded in approval.
"You look nice," he told you.
"Thank you."
There was a pause.
"Um, did you, uh, want to sit together during lunch? I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to, but I thought I'd ask."
The amount of joy he suddenly felt was unexplainable. You were accepting him, and it was the most amazing thing he had ever experienced.
"Yeah, sure," he nodded. "That sounds nice."
Mission make up with you: success.
The guilt of everything still lingered, and he would have to apologize to everyone else as well, but that could be done later.
Right now, all that mattered was his new friend. A friend that should’ve been his a long time ago.
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TREAT YOU BETTER / C.S
Pairing ◊ sub!fem!reader x softdom!san (ft. Yeonjun of TXT)
Genre ◊ SMUT, fluff, angst, best friends to lovers
Warnings ◊ SMUT (MINORS DNI), softdom!San, sub!reader, oral (male receiving), fingering, a little rough, san is quite big, dirty talk, pet names (baby, sweetheart...), talk about an abusive relationship, emotional vulnerability, aftercare, unprotected sex (if you see anything I haven't put in there, please lmk!)
Word count ◊ 7,2k
Summary ◊ You show up in the middle of the night at San's apartment after your bf Yeonjun broke up with you, but what you do not know is how San is so unconditionally in love with you.
a/n: I portrayed Yeonjun in a certain way here, but don't come for me! I'm a MOA too!
You and San had been best friends for as long as you could remember. Growing up together, sharing secrets and dreams, it was no surprise that you felt entirely at home in his company. San's presence had always been a constant, a comforting backdrop to your life. However, what you hadn't noticed was the way his eyes lingered on you, the way his smile softened when you laughed. He had fallen for you long ago, but he never had the courage to admit it—not to himself, and certainly not to anyone else.
Meanwhile, you had been dating Yeonjun for a few months. At first, everything seemed perfect. He was charming, attentive, and everything you thought you wanted. But as time went on, Yeonjun's true colors began to show. He treated you poorly, his words often harsh and his actions thoughtless. Despite the growing cracks in your relationship, you clung to the hope that things would get better. They never did.
One Friday night, after a particularly brutal argument, Yeonjun broke up with you. His words were cruel, his tone biting, and you were left feeling utterly shattered. Unable to face the emptiness of your apartment, you found yourself standing outside San's door at midnight, your face wet with tears.
You gently knocked at his door and San opened the door, his eyes widening in shock when he saw you. ‘’Y/n? What happened?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.
You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you just shook your head, tears streaming down your face. He was quick to take you in his arms, enveloping you in a warm hug before guiding you to his couch.
"Talk to me," he urged softly, sitting beside you.
You took a deep breath, struggling to find your voice. "Yeonjun... he broke up with me," you finally managed to say, your voice trembling. "We had an awful fight. He was so mean.’’
San's eyes darkened with anger. "That bastard. What did he say to you?’’
You shook your head again, not wanting to recount the hurtful words. "It doesn't matter. I just... I couldn't stay there.’’
San clenched his fists, the muscles in his jaw tightening. "I want to go over there and beat him up. He has no right to treat you like this.’’
"No, San," you said quickly, placing a hand on his arm. "Please don't. It's not worth it. I just need you right now.’’
His expression softened instantly. "Okay. I'm here for you," he promised, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. You buried your face in his chest, feeling the warmth and safety of his presence. He stroked your hair gently, whispering soothing words.
"You deserve so much better," he murmured. "Yeonjun is an idiot for letting you go.’’
You pulled back slightly, looking up at him through tear-filled eyes. "Do you really think so?’’
"I know so," San replied firmly. "You're amazing, and anyone would be lucky to have you.’’
A small smile tugged at your lips despite the pain. "Thank you, San. You're the best friend anyone could ask for.’’
San's heart ached at your words, but he forced a smile. "Anything for you," he said softly. He wished he could tell you how he really felt, how much he loved you, but he didn't want to risk losing your friendship.
San watched as you tried to find comfort on the couch. He hated seeing you like this, so broken and vulnerable. Determined to lift your spirits, even if just a little, he pulled the blanket around you more snugly.
"Hey," he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "How about we try to take your mind off things for a bit?’’’
You sniffled, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. ‘’How?’’
San thought for a moment, then smiled. "Remember that time in middle school when we tried to bake a cake for your mom's birthday and ended up setting off the fire alarm?’’
You couldn't help but chuckle at the memory. "Yeah, and the cake was half-burnt, half-raw.’’
"Exactly! And your mom still said it was the best cake she'd ever had because we made it with 'extra love and a dash of chaos,'" San added, grinning.
A small smile played on your lips. "She was always so supportive.’’
San nodded, his eyes twinkling. "She still is. Just like you have so many people who care about you.’’
You sighed, leaning against him. "It's just hard, you know? I really thought Yeonjun was different.’’
"I know," San said, his voice gentle. "But sometimes people aren't who we hope they are. And that’s not your fault.’’ He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. "You deserve someone who sees how amazing you are and treats you with the love and respect you deserve.’’
You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling a bit of the tension leave your body. "Thanks, Sannie. I don't know what I'd do without you.’’’
He squeezed your shoulder. "You'd do just fine. You're strong, even if you don't always feel like it.’’
For the next hour, San kept talking, sharing funny stories from childhood and moments that made you both laugh until your sides hurt. He reminded you of the time he tried to impress you by jumping off the highest diving board at the pool, only to belly-flop spectacularly. Or the time you both got lost during a school trip and ended up finding a hidden ice cream parlor that became your secret spot.
"Remember when we made that secret handshake?" he asked, his eyes bright with amusement.
You nodded, a real smile breaking through. "We thought we were so cool.’’
"We were cool," he insisted, demonstrating the complex series of claps and snaps you had created. "We still are.’’
You laughed, following along with the handshake. It felt good to laugh, even if just for a moment. San's presence was like a balm to your wounded heart, his affection and kindness wrapping around you like a warm blanket.
The night wore on, and though the pain of Yeonjun's words still lingered, it was dulled by San's unwavering support. He stayed by your side, talking and laughing.
San, ever attentive, noticed how your eyes struggled to stay open.
"You look exhausted," he said softly, his hand still gently rubbing your back. ‘’You wanna stay over? You could take my bed.’’
You nodded, stifling a yawn. "I am, but I don't want to take your bed from you. I can sleep on the couch, it’s fine »
San shook his head, his expression firm. "No way. You need a proper bed to sleep in, and you're not arguing with me on this.’’ You tried to protest, but he held up a hand, silencing you. "I insist. Come on, let's get you settled."
He stood up and offered you his hand, helping you to your feet. You were honestly too tired to argue with him, you knew how stubborn he could be. As you reached his bedroom, he pulled back the covers and motioned for you to enter. You hesitated, looking at him with a mixture of gratitude and guilt.
"You sure?" you asked, your voice small.
"Positive," he replied firmly. "Now, get in."
You slid into the bed, the soft sheets feeling like a haven after the emotional turmoil of the night. San tucked the blanket around you, his movements gentle and caring.
"Do you need anything else?" he asked, his voice low and soothing.
You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. "No, this is perfect. Thank you, San."
He nodded, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "You're welcome. Try to get some rest, okay? I'll be right outside if you need anything."
You reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it lightly. "You're really the best, you know that?"
San's smile was soft, his eyes filled with unspoken emotions. "I just want you to be okay. Sleep well."
With that, he turned and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. You listened to his footsteps as he walked back to the living room, your heart was fluttering. He was just so affectionate and caring.
San settled onto the couch, pulling the blanket over himself. The couch was familiar, a place he'd often crashed after late-night gaming sessions or movie marathons. But tonight, it felt different. Tonight, he was acutely aware of you in his bed, just a room away, and the vulnerability you'd shown him.
San lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling, unable to find any semblance of sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, images of you crying and hurt flashed through his mind. He was consumed by a mix of anger and helplessness, hating Yeonjun for what he'd done to you.
He tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position, but nothing seemed to work. His mind was too restless, his heart too full of unresolved emotions. He glanced at the clock—2:30 AM. With a frustrated sigh, he sat up, running a hand through his hair.
In the quiet of the living room, the sudden sound of a notification startled him. He looked over and saw your phone on the coffee table, its screen glowing with a new message. Curiosity and concern got the better of him, and he leaned over to see who it was.
It was a message from Yeonjun.
San's jaw clenched as he read the words on the screen:
[Junnie] I hope you're happy. You always find a way to make everything my fault. Good luck with this one.
San felt a surge of anger so intense it made his hands shake. He couldn't believe the audacity of Yeonjun to send such a cruel message after everything he'd put you through. It took every ounce of self-control not to grab his keys and march over to Yeonjun's place right then and there.
Instead, he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He knew that confronting Yeonjun wouldn't help you right now. You needed him here, not out picking a fight. But he couldn't just ignore the message either. He needed to find a way to protect and shield you from more pain.
He stared at your phone, contemplating whether to wake you up and tell you about the message. But you had finally found some peace, and he didn't want to disturb that. Instead, he decided to keep an eye on your phone for any more messages, ensuring nothing else would upset you tonight.
San stood up, pacing the living room, his mind racing. He needed to focus on something else, anything to keep from stewing in his anger. He went to the kitchen and made himself a cup of chamomile tea, hoping it might help him relax. As he waited for the water to boil, he replayed the night's events in his mind.
"Why can't he just leave her alone?" San muttered to himself, pouring the hot water over the tea bag. "Hasn't he done enough damage?"
He took a sip of the tea, its warmth doing little to soothe his frayed nerves. He wished he could do more for you, wished he could take away all the hurt and replace it with happiness. But he knew that healing took time, and all he could do was be there for you every step of the way.
San returned to the couch, setting the tea on the coffee table. He picked up your phone again, staring at Yeonjun's message. Without thinking, he typed out a reply:
[You] She deserves better than you. Leave her alone.
But he didn't send it. He deleted the message, knowing it wasn't his place to intervene directly. Instead, he placed your phone back on the table and sat down, his head in his hands. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him.
Lost in thought, he nearly jumped when he heard the soft sound of your footsteps approaching. He turned to see you standing in the doorway, looking small and vulnerable in the dim light.
"Sannie, are you still awake?" you asked quietly, your voice tinged with uncertainty.
"Yeah, I'm awake," he replied, his heart softening as he looked at you. "What's wrong? Do you need something?"
You hesitated, glancing down at your feet before meeting his eyes. "I... I don't want to be alone right now. Can you... can you come to bed with me?"
San's heart skipped a beat. You and he had shared a bed before, back in the days when sleepovers and movie marathons ended with both of you crashing wherever you could. But this felt different, more intimate. He could feel his emotions bubbling up, threatening to spill over.
He took a deep breath, pushing his feelings aside. This wasn't about him; it was about you needing comfort. "Of course," he said gently. "I'll be right there."
You gave him a small, grateful smile, and he followed you back to the bedroom. The room was filled with a soft, calming silence,.
San watched as you climbed back into bed, settling under the blankets. He hesitated momentarily before joining you, lying down on the other side. The bed dipped slightly under his weight, and he turned to face you, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Are you comfortable?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nodded, looking at him with a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Yes, thank you. I just... I didn't want to be alone tonight."
"I understand," San said softly. "I'm here for you."
You reached out and took his hand, holding it tightly. The simple gesture sent a rush of warmth through him, and he squeezed your hand in return.
"Do you remember all those sleepovers we used to have?" you asked, your voice tinged with nostalgia.
San smiled, nodding. "Yeah, of course. We used to stay up all night talking and laughing."
You sighed contentedly. "Those were some of the best times. I always felt so safe with you."
San's heart ached with the weight of his unspoken feelings. "And you still are safe with me. Always."
For a moment, the room was silent, save for the gentle sound of your breathing. San struggled internally, fighting the urge to confess everything he felt. But he knew this wasn't the time. You needed comfort, not complications.
San lay there, the steady rhythm of your breathing filling the room. He tried to calm his racing thoughts, but it was nearly impossible with you so close to him. The familiar warmth of your body pressed against his was something he had experienced countless times before, yet tonight it felt different—intensely different.
Every breath you took, every slight movement you made, seemed to send sparks of awareness through him. He could feel the rise and fall of your chest against his side, your head resting on his shoulder, and it was driving him to distraction. He knew it was wrong to feel this way, especially now, but he couldn't help it. The closeness, the intimacy of the moment, was turning him on in a way he hadn't expected.
He tried to shift slightly, hoping to ease the tension in his body, but it only seemed to make things worse. You stirred, tightening your grip on his hand and snuggling closer. San's heart pounded in his chest, and he swallowed hard, trying to steady his breathing.
"San?" you murmured sleepily, your voice a soft whisper in the darkness.
"Yeah?" he replied, his voice tight with the effort of keeping his emotions in check.
"Are you okay?" you asked, concern evident even through your drowsiness.
San forced a smile, even though you couldn't see it. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... a lot on my mind."
You shifted slightly, your leg brushing against his. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity through him, and he had to bite his lip to stifle a groan. "You can talk to me, you know. I'm here for you, too."
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "I know. It's just... it's nothing. Really."
You were quiet for a moment, your fingers gently tracing patterns on the back of his hand. As you drifted back into sleep, San lay there, his body tense and his mind racing. He couldn't understand why he felt so different this time. You had always been affectionate with each other, cuddling during movie nights or sleepovers, but tonight, the feeling was overwhelming.
He tried to distract himself, focusing on the sound of the rain tapping gently against the window, but his thoughts kept drifting back to you. The way your hair felt against his cheek, the warmth of your breath on his neck, the soft curves of your body nestled against his.
"Get a grip, San," he muttered to himself, trying to push the thoughts away. "This isn't the time."
But the more he tried to ignore it, the more aware he became of every tiny detail. The subtle scent of your shampoo, the softness of your skin, the way you fit perfectly against him. It was driving him crazy, and he didn't know how much longer he could take it.
You shifted, turning your back to him. For a brief moment, he thought the change in position might help him regain some control over his tumultuous emotions. But then you moved closer, pressing your back firmly against his chest. Instinctively, he wrapped his arm around you, his hand resting gently on your stomach.
The intimacy of the position made his heart pound. Your body was so close, so warm, and he could feel every curve pressed against him. His mind raced, and he struggled to keep his breathing steady.
You sighed contentedly, snuggling closer. The movement pressed your body even tighter against his, and he felt a surge of heat rush through him. His mind screamed at him to keep it together, but the sensation of your curves against his chest, the softness of your body, was making it incredibly difficult. He could feel himself getting harder and harder.
He closed his eyes, trying to focus on anything but the feel of you in his arms. He thought about the cold night air, the sound of the rain outside, anything to distract himself from the intoxicating closeness. But every time you shifted slightly, it sent another wave of awareness through him.
As you continued to shift and wiggle, seeking a comfortable position, it became increasingly difficult. Each movement pressed your body closer against him, and he could feel every curve, every contour, of your form against his. It was driving him mad.
You shifted again, your back pressing firmly against his chest, your hips moving slightly. San's breath hitched, and despite his best efforts, he felt himself getting harder. He clenched his jaw, trying to will away the arousal, but it was no use. Your absent-minded movements were too much for him to handle.
‘’Y/n, please stop moving,’’ he whispered hoarsely, his voice strained with the effort of keeping control.
You froze, the sudden tension in his voice startling you. Then you felt it—a hard, undeniable pressure against your lower back. Your eyes widened as realization dawned.
"San..." you whispered, turning your head slightly to look at him over your shoulder. "Is that...?"
San's face flushed with embarrassment. ‘’Fuck, I'm sorry," he stammered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't mean for this to happen."
You could see the discomfort and shame in his eyes, and something inside you shifted. You felt a surge of confidence, an unexpected boldness. You turned fully to face him, your heart pounding. Without saying a word, you reached down and placed your hand over his hardness, feeling the heat and firmness through the fabric.
San's breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening in shock. ‘’Y/n, what are you doing?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.
You met his gaze, your own eyes filled with a mix of determination and desire. "I want this too," you said softly, your hand gently squeezing him through his pants.
San's heart raced, but he hesitated, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. "You don't have to," he said, his voice strained. "I don't want you to feel pressured or like you owe me anything. Especially not after everything with Yeonjun."
You shook your head, your eyes softening. "San, I want this. I want you."
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "But I feel like I'm taking advantage of you. You're vulnerable right now, and I don't want to be another person who hurts you."
You looked at him, your expression serious. "San, you could never hurt me. The real reason Yeonjun and I broke up... it was because of you."
San's eyes widened in shock. "What do you mean?"
You sighed, feeling a weight lift as you prepared to share the truth. "Yeonjun was always jealous of our relationship. He couldn't understand how important you are to me. Last night, he asked me to choose between him and you.’’
San's heart skipped a beat. "And you chose me?"
"Without hesitation," you said firmly. "He couldn't accept that. He accused me of loving you more than him, and honestly, he was right. I do love you more."
San stared at you, a mix of emotions swirling in his eyes. "I had no idea," he whispered. "I never wanted to come between you two."
"You didn't," you replied, your voice steady. "Yeonjun did that himself. And when he forced me to choose, it made me realize just how much you mean to me."
San's heart ached with the weight of your words. "I never wanted to admit it, but I've always loved you," he confessed, his voice trembling. "But I was afraid of ruining our friendship."
You smiled, your eyes shining with tears. "You could never ruin it, San. You've always been there for me, through everything. And now, I want to be here for you."
San felt a surge of emotion, a mix of relief, joy, and overwhelming love. He reached out, cupping your face in his hands, his touch tender. "I love you," he said, his voice filled with sincerity and passion.
"I love you too," you replied, your voice a whisper.
He leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to. When you didn't, he pressed his lips to yours in a tender, lingering kiss. The sensation was electric, sending shivers down your spine. His lips were soft yet firm, moving against yours with a careful, loving precision. It was a kiss filled with years of pent-up emotions, a kiss that spoke of friendship, love, and unspoken desires.
San's hand moved to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss slightly. You could feel his breath mixing with yours, the warmth of his body so close to yours. Every touch, every movement was deliberate, as if he were memorizing the feel of you.
As the kiss continued, it grew more intense. The emotions that had been building up inside both of you for so long now found their release. His kisses became more urgent, his lips moving against yours with a newfound hunger. He tilted his head to gain better access, his tongue slipping out to gently trace your lower lip before seeking entrance.
You parted your lips, allowing him in, and a soft moan escaped from deep within your throat. The kiss was no longer just an expression of love but a claim. San's tongue explored your mouth, tasting and teasing, and you responded with equal fervor, meeting his passion with your own.
San's hands began to roam your body, his touch both gentle and possessive. He ran his fingers down your sides, feeling the curves of your waist and hips. His hands slid under your shirt, the warmth of his palms against your skin sending sparks of desire through you.
"God, you're so beautiful," he murmured against your lips, his voice filled with awe.
He shifted, hovering over you, his body pressing you gently into the mattress. The weight of him felt comforting and exciting all at once. He broke the kiss just long enough to pull your shirt over your head, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of you.
"So perfect," he whispered, his voice husky. "You're perfect, baby."
You shivered at the pet name, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you. "San," you breathed, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him back down for another kiss.
This kiss was even more heated, filled with an urgency that left you both breathless. San's hands roamed freely now, exploring every inch of your body with a mix of tenderness and possession. He cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, drawing a gasp from your lips.
"Does that feel good, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice low and rough with desire.
"Yes," you moaned, arching into his touch. "So good, Sannie."
He smiled against your lips, pleased with your response. "I want to make you feel amazing," he murmured, kissing a trail down your neck. "You deserve to be worshipped.’’
San's kisses trailed down your body, his lips and tongue leaving a path of fire in their wake. He paused at your breasts, taking each nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking until you were writhing beneath him, your breath coming in ragged gasps.
"San, please," you begged, your voice a mix of need and desperation.
He looked up at you, his eyes blazing with passion. "Please what, baby? Tell me what you want."
"I want you," you whispered, your voice trembling with desire. "I need you."
But he couldn’t give it to you right away. He knew he had to prepare you to ensure you were ready for him. He wanted this to be perfect for you.
He looked down at you. "I need to get you ready for me," he murmured, his voice husky. "I don't want to hurt you."
You nodded, your breath coming in shallow gasps. He kissed you again, his lips trailing down your neck and across your collarbone. He moved lower, kissing a path between your breasts and down your stomach, savoring the taste of your skin. When he reached the juncture of your thighs, he paused, looking up at you with a mix of tenderness and hunger.
"You're so beautiful," he said softly, his fingers gently parting your folds. "I want to make you feel so good."
His touch was gentle at first, his fingers exploring your cunt with a tenderness that sent shivers through your body. He found your clit, circling it with his thumb while his fingers teased your entrance. You gasped, your hips lifting off the bed as he touched you.
"Sannie," you moaned, your voice a breathless plea.
He smiled, pleased by your response. "Let me hear you."
Slowly, he slid one finger inside you, feeling the warmth and tightness of your body. You moaned softly, your body arching into his touch. He moved his finger in and out, his thumb still circling your clit, and watched as your eyes fluttered closed in pleasure.
"Does that feel good?" he asked, his voice rough with desire.
‘’Fuck,yes,’’ you gasped, your hands gripping the sheets. "So good, San."
Encouraged by your response, he added a second finger, stretching you gently. The sensation was intense, and you cried out, your hips rocking against his hand. San's eyes darkened with lust, and he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.
"You're so tight,’’ he murmured against your lips. "So perfect for me."
You whimpered, the pleasure building inside you with every movement of his fingers. "San, please," you begged, your voice a desperate whisper.
He groaned, the sound of your need driving him wild. "I love hearing you beg, baby," he said, his fingers thrusting deeper. "I could do this all night."
Every sound you made seemed to intoxicate him, fueling his desire to pleasure you. He curled his fingers inside you, hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars. You cried out his name, your body trembling with the intensity of the sensations.
"That's it," he urged, his voice low and commanding. "Come for me, sweetheart. I want to feel you."
You were so close, the pleasure coiling tight in your belly. With a final, deep thrust of his fingers, you shattered, your orgasm washing over you in powerful waves. You cried out, your body arching off the bed as you clung to him.
San watched you, his eyes filled with awe and desire. "You're so beautiful when you come," he murmured, his fingers still moving inside you, drawing out every last bit of your pleasure.
He slowly withdrew his fingers from you, his eyes dark with desire as he brought them to his lips. He tasted you on his fingers, his eyelids fluttering shut and a deep, satisfied groan escaping from his throat.
"God, you taste so good," he murmured, his voice rough with lust. His eyes rolled back in his head for a moment, lost in the intoxicating flavor of you. "I could get addicted to this."
Your cheeks flushed with heat at his words, but your own desire was just as intense. With a newfound boldness, you reached down and gently wrapped your hand around his hardness, inside his sweatpants, feeling the heat and firmness of him through his sweatpants.
"I want to touch you," you whispered, your hand stroking him slowly. "I want to make you feel good too."
A shiver of pleasure ran through him at your touch, and he groaned, his hips instinctively thrusting into your hand. "You already do," he said, his voice strained. "But I won't stop you."
With trembling fingers, you tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants, and he helped you remove them, tossing them aside. You marveled at the sight of him, hard and ready for you. He was indeed pretty big. Slowly, you wrapped your hand around his length, stroking him gently.
San let out a deep, guttural moan, his eyes closing briefly as he savored the sensation. "Just like that, baby.’’
You watched his face, mesmerized by the expressions of pleasure that crossed it. The sight of him, so vulnerable and turned on by your touch, filled you with a heady mix of power and desire. You wanted to give him as much pleasure as he had given you.
You positioned yourself between his legs, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and he smiled down at you, his gaze filled with love and encouragement.
Slowly, you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the tip of his length, tasting the salty tang of his arousal. San's breath hitched, and he let out a deep moan, his hands gripping the sheets. You took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip before sliding down his shaft. You started slowly, finding a rhythm that felt comfortable, your hand stroking the base as your mouth moved up and down.
San's reactions were immediate and intense. His hips bucked slightly, and he let out a series of deep, guttural moans, his hands tangling in your hair. "Fuck, that feels so good," he groaned, his voice thick with pleasure.
You felt a surge of confidence at his praise, and you took him deeper, your mouth and hand working together to bring him pleasure. The sounds he made, the way his body responded to your touch, it all fueled your desire to please him.
"Yes, just like that," San panted, his voice low and rough. "You're so perfect, baby. So good to me."
You continued, the pace of your movements increasing as you sensed his pleasure building. His moans grew louder, his hips thrusting up to meet your mouth. You could feel him getting closer, his body tensing with anticipation.
"I'm close," he warned, his voice strained. "So close, baby."
You looked up at him with doe eyes, your eyes meeting his, and you could see the raw desire and love in his gaze. You wanted to take him over the edge, to make him feel as good as he had made you feel. With a final, deep movement, you took him fully into your mouth, your tongue swirling around him.
San let out a deep, shuddering groan, his hands tightening in your hair as he came, his release filling your mouth. You swallowed, savoring the taste of him, and continued to move until he was spent.
Slowly, you pulled back, your eyes meeting his. He looked down at you with a mixture of awe and love, his chest rising and falling with deep, ragged breaths. Without giving you timr to register what was happening, he picked you and pinned you underneath him once again. He positioned himself between your legs, his hardness pressing against your entrance. He paused for a moment, his eyes searching yours.
"Are you ready, love?" he asked, his voice husky with desire.
You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. ‘’Yes, please, I need you.’’
With a groan, he began to enter you slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. The sensation was intense, your body stretching to accommodate his size. He was big, and you could feel every inch of him as he filled you completely. It was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and a slight edge of pain that quickly turned into pure ecstasy.
"God, you're so tight," he murmured, his voice rough. "You feel so good, baby. So perfect."
He started to move, his rhythm steady but rough, each thrust deep and deliberate. The sensation was incredible, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.
‘’Fuck" you gasped, your voice filled with need.
"Let me hear you, baby," he groaned, his hips moving faster. "I want to hear every sound you make."
As he found his rhythm, his movements became rougher, more urgent. He thrust deeply, his hips driving into you with a force that made you cry out in pleasure. Each thrust hit a spot deep inside you, sending waves of ecstasy through your body.
You moaned loudly, your hands gripping the sheets as he pounded into you. The intensity of his movements, combined with the constant stream of praise and pet names, drove you wild. You screamed his name.
He reached down, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. The added stimulation pushed you over the edge, and you cried out his name as you came, your body shuddering with the force of your orgasm.
"That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Come for me. I want to feel you."
He didn't stop, his thrusts becoming even more relentless as he chased his own release. The sensation of him moving inside you, combined with the aftershocks of your orgasm, was almost too much to bear. But it felt so good, so perfect.
"I need to hear you again," he groaned, his rhythm never faltering. "Come for me again, sweetheart. Let me feel you."
You moaned loudly, your body responding to his words and his touch. The pleasure built quickly, and you felt another orgasm rushing through you. "Sannie, I'm coming," you gasped, your body trembling with the intensity.
"Good girl," he growled, his thrusts becoming even rougher. "I love it when you come for me. You're so beautiful."
You cried out as you came again, the pleasure washing over you in powerful waves. San continued to thrust deeply, his own moans mixing with yours as he pushed you both to the brink.
He pulled out of you and flipped you, positioning you on your hands and knees. He groaned at the sight, his hands gripping your hips as he lined himself up and thrust deeply inside you again.
"God, yes," he moaned, his voice filled with lust. "You look so perfect like this."
He set a punishing rhythm, his hips driving into you with a force that made you cry out in pleasure. One hand was on your hip while the other was on your neck, pushing you towards him as he thrust powerfully. "You're mine," he growled, his voice thick with possession. "All mine."
"Yes, Sannie," you gasped, your body rocking with each thrust. "I'm yours. Always."
He reached around, his fingers finding your clit again and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. The pleasure was overwhelming, and you felt another orgasm building quickly. "San, I'm going to come," you moaned, your voice shaking with need.
"Do it," he commanded, his thrusts becoming even rougher. "Come for me, baby. I need to feel you."
You cried out his name as you came, your body shuddering with the intensity. San groaned loudly, his own release following quickly as he filled you with his warmth.
For a long moment, you both stayed like that, your bodies trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. San slowly pulled out of you, collapsing beside you on the bed and pulling you into his arms.
"You're amazing," he murmured, his voice filled with awe and love. "So beautiful, so perfect."
You smiled, your heart swelling with love and contentment. "I love you, San," you whispered, your voice full of truth.
"I love you too," he replied, his eyes soft with emotion. "More than anything."
He kissed your forehead before slowly getting up from the bed, carefully pulling away from you. "Stay here, my love. I'll be right back," he said softly. You nodded, your body still tingling from the intensity of your lovemaking.
He returned a few moments later with a warm, damp cloth and a bottle of water. He climbed back onto the bed, gently spreading your legs and starting to clean you up. His touch was tender, every movement filled with care and love.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice soft as he wiped you clean.
"I'm a bit sore," you admitted, your voice a mix of satisfaction and exhaustion.
San's eyes filled with concern, and he gently caressed your thigh. "I'm sorry, baby. I'll be gentler next time."
You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "Please don't. I like it rough."
He paused, then a slow grin spread across his face. "Oh, you do, do you?" he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "My little baby likes it rough, huh?"
You blushed, feeling a surge of warmth at his playful tone. You slowly nodded.
San chuckled, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "Well, I'll keep that in mind for next time," he said, leaning down to kiss you softly. "But I'll still make sure you're taken care of, no matter what."
After he finished cleaning you up, he pulled you into his arms, wrapping the blanket around both of you. He held you close, his hand gently stroking your back in soothing circles. The warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat were incredibly comforting.
"Are you okay?" he asked again, his voice filled with love and concern.
You nodded, feeling completely at ease in his embrace. "Yes, Sannie. I'm more than okay. I'm perfect."
He smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Good. I want you to always feel perfect with me."
You nestled closer to him, your head resting on his chest. "I do, San. I always have."
love you too," you replied, your heart swelling with happiness.
For a while, you both lay there in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking and the deep connection you shared. San's fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin, his touch soothing and reassuring.
"Do you need anything else?" he asked softly, his voice a gentle murmur in the quiet room.
You shook your head, feeling completely content. "Just you," you said, your voice filled with love. "I just need you."
"You have me," he replied, his voice tender. "Always."
He continued to hold you, his presence a comforting anchor as you both began to drift off to sleep. The night had been intense, but the love and care San showed you in the aftermath made everything feel even more special.
As you drifted back to sleep, feeling safe and loved in San's arms, a soft buzzing sound interrupted the serene quiet of the room. San frowned, his protective instincts kicking in as he realized it was your phone on his bedside table. He gently eased out of your embrace, making sure not to wake you, and reached for the phone.
The screen displayed a message from Yeonjun.
[Junnie] Where are you? Who are you with?
San's jaw tightened with anger, but he decided to ignore the message. However, the phone buzzed again, another message from Yeonjun.
[Junnie] I know you're at San's. You're such a whore.
San felt a surge of rage, his blood boiling at the audacity of Yeonjun's words. He couldn't let that slide. Carefully, he unlocked your phone and typed out a response, his fingers flying over the screen with determination.
[You] Yes, she's with me. And she's much better off here than she ever was with you. Don’t ever think of insulting her ever again. - San
He hit send, feeling a grim satisfaction as the message was delivered. He knew it might escalate things, but he couldn't stand the thought of Yeonjun continuing to harass you, especially after everything you'd been through.
San placed the phone back on the bedside table and glanced at you. You were still sound asleep, your face peaceful and content. He gently kissed your forehead, feeling a wave of tenderness wash over him.
"You're safe with me," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Sliding back into bed, San pulled you into his arms again, wrapping the blanket around both of you. The warmth of your body against his was soothing, calming the anger that still simmered within him. He stroked your hair, his touch gentle and reassuring.
As he lay there, his thoughts kept returning to Yeonjun's messages. The anger flared again briefly, but then he looked at you, peaceful in his arms, and he felt a deep sense of purpose. He would protect you, no matter what.
With that vow in his heart, San closed his eyes, letting the steady rhythm of your breathing lull him into a sense of calm. The events of the night played through his mind, a whirlwind of passion, love, and anger, but ultimately, a sense of rightness settled over him. You were with him, where you belonged, and he would do everything in his power to keep you safe and happy.
As sleep finally began to claim him, San held you close, his protective embrace a silent promise of his unwavering support and love. The future was uncertain, but with you in his arms, he felt ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. And with that comforting thought, he drifted off to sleep, the warmth of your presence his greatest solace.
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“I’m sorry Steve, I thought we were just having fun! I enjoyed you taking me out and paying for everything that’s all…” Is what Shelley said to him when Steve walked into the bar and saw her flirting with another guy.
Obviously, he smiled and shook his head, said everything was okay, ‘Just a silly misunderstanding’ and left, ever so graceful. But the second he was outside he cursed, tried not to shed a tear, failed, and then started laughing.
He probably looks like a mad man, or a drunk. But no, don’t worry people, he’s not drunk or crazy, he’s just really, really stupid. He thought Shelley really liked him, he thought they were dating. And Shelley just assumed he was just another playboy so she played him back. He’s not even mad at her. She didn't mean to hurt him. It’s not her fault Steve is just so easy to hurt.
Sighing, he gets his phone out to get an uber and hugs himself even though it’s not really that cold outside, waiting for his car, already imagining the big, greasy burger he’s going to order when he gets home. He deserves it, okay?
The car that pulls out has definitely seen better days, but it’s clean and comfortable so Steve doesn’t think twice about getting in. He offers the driver a smile through the rearview mirror, sparing a moment to notice his eyes are big and dark, and they crinkle when he smiles back at him.
Steve sits stiff and straight for a moment before realizing no one is there to judge him right now and he deflates, sighing again and letting himself collapse against the seat. Still hugging himself to feel any sort of comfort, he bumps his head against the window softly a couple of times.
“Long night?” The driver asks him in a friendly manner.
Steve meets his eyes in the rearview again and shrugs, smiling back crookedly “Thought I should go home early since I already accomplished making an ass of myself for the night”
He checks the uber app for the driver’s name, doesn’t want to be rude by not remembering. ‘Eddie’ chuckles at Steve's statement.
“You did, huh? Well good job on getting it out of the way then,”
Steve chuckles back, “Yeah, I was actually thinking I deserve a treat”
He notices Eddie looking back at him a couple of times before breathing an interested, “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Steve says, “A huge cheesy burger or something” Wondering what Eddie was thinking he’d say.
Eddie laughs again, “Oh! Right of course” and just when he’s about to say something else his phone rings.
“Oh, sorry” Eddie murmurs, immediately hanging up on whoever is calling.
“No worries,” Steve mumbles back, sitting up a little straighter again.
“So, what’s your favorite dirty burger place?” Eddie asks him.
Steve can tell he’s trying to distract him from the mood he entered the car with and he really appreciates it.
He sits forward and leans his forearms against the headrest of the passenger seat, “Oh, there’s so many, but…” from this angle, he can see Eddie’s face better, and he can’t help but think he’s got a really nice looking profile, long lashes, full lips, and the cutest nose he’s ever seen, “I think Benny’s the best one” he finishes.
Eddie pulls at a stop light and turns to look at him with a smile and he’s so much prettier than Steve first thought he involuntarily gasps. But thankfully Eddie is talking excitedly and doesn’t seem to notice.
“No way you know Benny’s?! Benny is my uncle! Well, he’s married to my uncle actually- you know what I mean but yeah, Benny’s is great!”
It’s such a weird coincidence that it managed to take Steve out of his stupor and he’s suddenly just as excited as Eddie,
“Really? Oh my god, I’m so jealous right now, I wished I could live at Benny’s sometimes”
Eddie laughs, and just when he opens his mouth to reply his phone rings again. This time he doesn’t immediately hang up and Steve sees the screen light up with the name “you deserve better”
Ouch, he thinks, and his heartstrings tug for his cute, sweet, uber driver. Who offered him friendly conversation cause he noticed he was feeling down and has the most beautiful laugh. He doesn't really know why he feels so strongly about it, he doesn't even know Eddie… but he still feels the text is right. Whoever hurt him, Eddie deserved better.
“Hey,” He says softly when Eddie hangs up cursing.
Eddie sighs again, “I’m so sorry,”
“Hey, no. It’s fine,” Steve replies, resisting the urge to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.
He figures, after the way his night started, he’s got nothing to lose so he says, “So much talk about Benny’s I feel like I need to go there right now.”
Eddie let’s out a distracted “Huh?” and Steve soldiers on, “Wanna change the destination and join me? You can take me home after,”
He notices Eddie doing a double take and blushing, “Really? I- Am- I- okay” he stammers but Steve can’t really figure out why.
“Yeah, you know, that way you don’t lose time on the job and have another ride?” He finishes and Eddie laughs,
“Oh, right. Yeah That- makes sense”
They keep talking about their favorite things on the menu on the way there and soon they are sitting face to face in a booth at Benny’s.
What a pair they make, Steve in a three piece suit, jacket off, vest undone and shirt rolled up to his forearms. And Eddie with sweats and a hoodie.
Eddie is even better looking in the shitty dinner light and the blush that adorns his cheeks ever since they came in makes Steve wanna kiss them to feel their warmth.
Benny himself comes to take their order, and Eddie gets up to hug him and introduces him to Steve. They already know each other, because Steve does come to the dinner often and Benny lets Eddie know that.
Eddie thinks it's hilarious that they both have been here so much and never saw each other before, but Steve can’t help to think it’s a shame.
“I actually would’ve loved to have met you sooner,” he tells Eddie at one point and watches curiously as Eddie’s blush turns a few shades darker.
As they eat, Steve tells Eddie about Shelley, about his hopes, about misreading the situation, about his shame. How he doesn’t even think he liked Shelley that much, but he just wanted to have something real. Eddie gets mad at him for blaming himself, tells him it wasn’t his fault, that he’s being too hard on himself. And it’s not a bad thing to consider but all Steve can think about is how cute Eddie looks when he’s mad on his behalf.
Eventually, Eddie tells Steve about whoever was calling him.
“I met him at my last job. I thought he was so cool but turns out he was actually just cold,” Eddie shrugs, “We dated for like 6 months or something, not that long but, I was miserable the whole time and I didn’t even realize it was because of him.”
Eddie’s hand is tearing up a paper napkin between them and Steve tentatively settles his hand over Eddie’s, who stops destroying the napkin and smiles gratefully at Steve, holding his hand back.
“The worst part is I didn’t even break up with him, he broke up with me,” Eddie chuckles self-deprecatingly, “But he still wanted to keep me around I guess… And I… didn’t want to feel lonely”
They both stay quiet for a moment after that, and Steve stares at their hands joined over the greasy dinner table and thinks about loneliness, about how he doesn't feel it right now, with Eddie.
“So, what happened?” he asks after a bit.
“I did eventually realize he was the one making me feel like shit so I stopped seeing him but he didn’t appreciate my new sense of self-respect,” Eddie says lightly and Steve instinctively squeezes his hand protectively, which makes Eddie smile again, “I’m doing just fine now though, I told him to fuck off and got a new job. And it’s actually pretty good, ya know?”
Steve can’t help but smile back at Eddie’s cute expression, “Yeah?”
“Hell yeah, my own hours? Good money? Plus I’ve always liked driving around, it calms me. And I get to meet really interesting people…” he says, winking at Steve and making him chuckle.
“Well, I’m glad then. Proud of you for getting out of there,”
“Me too,” Eddie says and looks up as Benny walks over to them.
“Sorry to interrupt boys, but we are about to close for the night,” He says, stifling a yawn.
Steve looks surprised at his watch, it’s almost 2 A.M. He can’t believe he’s been sitting here with Eddie for hours when it only felt like a few minutes.
He offers to cover the bill but Benny fights him over it and says it’s his treat. And Eddie offers to take him home no charge. So they get in Eddie’s car again only this time Steve sits next to him instead of in the back and they talk about music on their way to his place while Steve changes the radio stations. Laughing, singing and joking around, it’s such a good time. It feels like they’ve been doing this forever, like they could do this…forever. But eventually they arrive at Steve’s building and suddenly Steve doesn’t want the night to end.
He’s about to tell Eddie as much, maybe invite him inside, when his phone rings again, the ‘you deserve better’ staring at them. But Eddie immediately grabs his phone and hangs up, blocking the number after.
“There, he can’t call me again,” he says with a sigh.
“Can I see your phone for a second?” Steve ventures, making a last second decision.
Eddie looks surprised but curious as he hands it over and Steve punches his phone in.
“If you ever feel like unblocking him, or calling him back… Why don’t you try calling me instead?” he says in a rush and then walks out of the car, not lingering to see Eddie’s reaction.
There’s always the positivity that he got things wrong again, got too invested too soon again and he doesn’t want to know tonight. He’ll deal with it later, if Eddie doesn't call.
🚗📱🍔💙
It takes only two days for Steve’s phone to ring, an unknown number flashing on his screen. He picks it up feeling a little out of breath for no reason at all.
“Hello?”
“Steve?”
“Eddie, I”
“Wait- before you say anything I just want you to know that I didn’t call because I wanted to call him, or I was thinking about him. I called because I can’t stop thinking about you, I wanted to talk to you. Okay?”
“Eddie- yes! It’s more than okay, I- I was hoping you’d call”
fin 💙
☕🥐💕 coffee? oovoo javer?
#steddie#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#i wrote something#i wish i could come up with more innuendos for steve to drop and eddie to misunderstand cause it was tickling me#ya know i saw that post about the driver and i was inspired. if you are out there uber driver i hope you are okay <3
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Hi! Can i request for reader x batboys where they’re dating but reader doesn’t know they’re vigilantes. One day they ( as vigilantes) flirt with her then reader tells them that she’s happily taken. Thank you!
I’m only doing dick and Jason cuz my brain doesn’t know what to put for Tim or Damian. And this is probably a boat load of words that make no fucking sense when reading it, so I apologise.
Jason
‘You look lost sweetheart.’ You heard from above you only to see the silhouette of the vigilante red hood.
‘I can assure you I’m not.’ You replied straightforward, wanting nothing more to get home and cuddle up to Jason in your shared bed, after all it had been a long day and you weren’t in the mood to be chatted up by anyone, you were loyal to Jason no matter what.
‘I’m only trying to help.’ Red Hood tells you as he dropped down from the roof and landed safely in front of you before standing up to his full height.
‘I understand that but when you added sweetheart I’m naturally going to assume you’re attempting to hit on me.’ You said with your arms crossed over your chest. ‘I’m more than happily taken by the sweetheart man I’ve ever known.’ You added as a boast because it was more than the truth, and you could spend the entire week talking about how much better Jason was then any other man in existence.
Jason could feel his heart melt when you said that and was half tempted to rip his helmet off to kiss you senselessly, but he decided to be cheeky and milk this for all it’s worth if it meant hearing you speak about him in high praise. ‘Oh yeah? Does he treat you right?’ He asked as he leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest, reading himself to hear whatever you had to say.
‘He treats me as though I made the stars in the sky and looks at me like I did too,’ you began smiling as you remembered the fondness in Jason’s eyes whenever you did something mundane, ‘I could just be standing there in a plain shirt and a pair of his boxers, looking like absolute shit but he would still tell me I looked stunning.’ You added as you felt the smile stretch further across your lips.
God you loved that teddy bear of a man so much you didn’t know where to put it most of the time.
You noticed that Red Hood didn’t say anything but that was because beneath the helmet Jason was fighting through urge to hold you in arms and never let you go, smother your face in kisses because of how fucking cute you were being without trying, however he knew that he better get back home before you did if he ever wants to do any of that and so he clears his throat and says. ‘It’s good that he does treat you like that, you deserve it more than you know, I bet he’d be devastated if something were to happen to you, go to war even.’
You furrowed your brows as Red Hoods words before shrugging. ‘I mean…yeah I guess, he’d do anything to get me back. I hear him whispering it when he thinks I’m asleep.’ You add as you felt a sense of familiarity from the vigilante but decided to brush it off when you checked the time on your phone and winced. ‘I should get going and I’m sure you-‘ you went to look over to where you saw the vigilante last, only to be greeted with the sight of nothing. ‘-do too…’ you trailed off before shrugging your shoulders and continuing on your way home.
Unaware of the fact that Jason was still watching you from the rooftops above, knowing damn well that he would indeed go to war for you, his beloved little chipmunk.
Dick
‘What’s someone as pretty as you doing in a place like this? It’s dangerous you know.’ Nightwing practically purred.
‘I’ve walked through here multiple times before and I can tell you it’s safer than most in Gotham.’ You told him, crossing your arms, unamused.
Nightwing raised his hands in defence. ‘Just trying to look out for a cutie like you is all, no need to bite my head off.’ Dick had a feeling that something might happen on your walk home tonight and decided to keep constant tabs on you the entire night as Nightwing. He could tell you were tired and just outright done with everything but he’d rather you be safe on your journey home than not, regardless of how safe your route home was.
‘I’m pretty sure there’s other people you could be saving instead of flirting with me. I’m taken for your information, and happily so by the most prettiest and albeit goofiest man alive.’ You told him with a smile as your mind drifted to imagining Dick sitting in your shared bed with Hayley in his sleepwear, snoring loudly despite trying to stay up for your return.
‘Pretty? How so?’ Nightwing asked as he eagerly leant in forward to hear you. Dick just wanted an excuse to hear you gush about him without knowing that he was right in front of you.
You sighed at the aspect of having to spend even more time with a vigilante that seemingly didn’t take the hint. ‘He’s got a smile that could light up an entire city for future generations, a laugh so pretty and addicting that you’d be more then willing to make yourself look like an idiot just to hear it again, and he’s got a beautiful set of eyes that you could get lost in no matter what because they’re just so…enriched in colour.’ You finished, the image of Dick’s gorgeous eyes embedded into your mind that left you feeling seen and loved.
Dick couldn’t help but smile at your words, not knowing what to expect when he asked you about how pretty he was, now that he had he could feel a burst of warmth within his chest that now encased his entire body. You were too sweet and kind for your own good and Dick just wanted to keep you safe from everything that Gotham represented, whether it was out of his innate selfishness to keep you for himself, to keep a bright light of his own in a twin as dark and depressing as Gotham he wasn’t sure but all he knew was that he wanted to keep you in his life as long as he possibly could.
‘Sounds like you love him very much.’ He says after a brief period of silence.
‘I’m more than anything.’ You replied without hesitation. Your hand reaching into your coat pocket, thumb caressing the cute charm Dick had bought you to add onto your keys, it helped you calm down in certain situations because it meant that no matter how far apart you may seem you still had a piece of Dick close by. ‘Which is why I really want to get home, so I can see him and our darling dog Hayley.’ You add with a smile when the blue staffy came to mind.
Dick remember where Hayley was before he left to watch over you, fast asleep on your side of the bed, which meant that when you came home you’d have to cuddle up to him as it was proven difficult to wake Hayley up when she had made herself comfortable. However if this meant that Dick got the chance to hold you close to his chest, he’d gladly let Hayley sleep on your side of the bed more often, and he did on multiple occasions.
‘Then I best let you go, don’t wanna keep either of them waiting.’ Nightwing said and you couldn’t help but feel ecstatic at the thought of finally getting to go home to your little makeshift family. You didn’t know how much longer you were willing to stand there when you knew Hayley was waiting for you impatiently with a boat load of face licks with your name on it.
‘That’s probably for the best because both of them can tend to get a little whiny when I’m even a second late.’ You laughed to yourself as dick couldn’t help but internally pout at this, he didn’t get whiny when you were late did he? He pushed this thought aside and smiled as he watched you walk away, keeping his eyes on your for a couple seconds longer to make sure you were okay, before realising that he should better beat you home before you find him not there in bed and quickly rushed up to the rooftops and ran like his life depended on it.
He wanted to keep his secret safe for a little while longer before admitting everything to you just yet.
#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x you#dc fanfic#dc fic#dc comics x reader#dc x y/n#dc fanfiction#jason todd imagine#jason todd fluff#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagines#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson imagines#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson fluff#nightwing fluff#nightwing imagines#nightwing imagine#nightwing x reader#red hood x you#red hood imagine#red hood x reader#red hood imagines
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DPXDC: I wanna be like most girls ghosts.
or Danny: What should I do to make my mom happy?
or ~Danny deserves a little teenage rebellion as a treat~
Maddie: I just want this damned Phantom to stop pretending to be a hero! All ghosts are pure evil, who is he trying to deceive? Danny: Oh, really? And Danny took it personally.
It’s not Danny’s fault that he’s a good kid and wants to make his parents happy. But why would he have to be a monster to make them happy? Why must they hate him to be happy?
Danny’s obsession was going crazy.
Well, when your own parents call you a monster in the face, it hurts. Why do they always believe that only their opinion is the absolute truth? They have no idea how much worse things would be if at least some of the ghosts really behaved the way Maddie and Jack think they’re supposed to. If he really is evil by nature, is there any point in fighting his own fate? They want to see him as a villain, he will become one. He will. He just needs a little help and practice. And not bring it to the level when Clockwork has to clean up his mess. Poor guy is without a vacation for how long? Couple of millennia?
Johnny 13: Sup. Danny: F*ck off, Johnny, I’m not in the mood. Busy thinking about world domination. Get out of here or I’ll call Kitty. Johnny 13: What’s wrong? You’re usually so grouchy only towards the end of the week. Danny: Nothing. Just parents. Again. They are wonderful but I can’t help but feel sometimes that they, em… Johnny 13: Suck? Danny: Right…Damn. I’m a terrible son. Maybe something is wrong with me. Johnny 13: What? No, no, dude. You’re just growing up. And you’re a little late, usually teenagers go through that stage before they graduate. Well, you’ve probably been busy with other issues, so just missed it. Danny: I wonder whose fault it is. Aren’t there ghosts who enjoyed to ruin my life in the middle of school day?
Johnny 13: Oh, bother. Anyway, you’re entering a beautiful time of emancipation, where you’re going to shape your own view of life and, along the way, to get drunk on cheap alcohol at parties, maybe to go to jail and to become the greatest disappointment to your family..And then you will be ashamed to remember it for about the next ten years. Danny: Well, it looks like I’ve already done two out of three additional things. Great success. Johnny 13: When did you get drunk? Danny: I didn’t. Johnny 13: Oh. Want to fix that? Danny: What? No. What an idiot wants to add a headache to his problems? Johnny 13: Well, your loss, then I’ll go terrorize the bars of Gotham alone and no one can stop me. Let’s see what your boyfriend will say about it. ~~~~~ Danny: Bartender, another shot of Dead Man’s Fingers, please. Red Hood: Babe, haven’t you had enough? Danny: Have you ever felt that no matter how hard you try, no matter how many sacrifices you make, in their eyes you’ll always be nothing more than a monster? Nothing more than a mistake? Oh, Death doesn’t give people like me a break. Red Hood: …I’ll have what he’s having. *gives the bartender a sign to switch the rum shots to a batburger milkshake for them, and starts talking to Danny so that he doesn’t understand Hood's scams*
~~~~~
Johnny 13: Other people’s kids are growing up so fast. It seems like yesterday he didn’t know how to shoot ectoblast, and now.. Kitty: Stop trying to make me feel bad, we’re leaving. Johnny 13: But the boy needs our support, honey boo!
~~~~~
Danny: I'm fine. Really, I am. This isn’t the first time mom’s called me a monster. She often called me that when she was upset with my behavior in my childhood. Huh, it's even funny. Jason: There’s nothing funny about that. Danny: No, you don’t understand. Looking back, I was really a very active child and didn’t know when to stop. Not surprisingly that I often annoyed my parents. They’re very busy people, and Jazz couldn’t always keep an eye on me. And I was often afraid to go to sleep alone because there were shadows in the darkness of my room. Well, I used to think they were. But I pretended everything was okay to not distract parents from work. Jason: Hey, it’s not your fault. You were a child. Obviously, kiddo requires a lot of attention, they must have understood that. You are the second child in the family, right? Danny: Well, Jazz was different. I don’t know. Anyway, I thought if the monsters behind the curtain and under the bed were just like me, well, according to my mom, you know, then they wouldn’t want to hurt me. And since they look after me, they are friends. So I kinda greeted all the suspicious noises and howls. Huh, I was a strange kid. Jason: If you smile at someone in the dark alley right now that someone is more likely to wet themselves or faint. Danny: Rude! I’m not that scary. Admit that I’m adorable. Do it right now. Jason: Stunning, darling. But still carry a gun and a knife, please. My childhood taught me that what's hiding in the dark is worth beating up. Danny: Come on, what should I be afraid of? Death? Anyway, I want to try this shit. Like, the inevitable one. Being a bad boy, you know? Hood *raises eyebrows*. Danny: Oh damn it man, I'm talking about ghostliness. I want to try to be like most of dead ones. I want to unleash my side of the trickster and the villain. But only a little bit. I have to be supervised so that things don't go too far. Would you help me, honey?
~~~~~2 hours later~~~~
~~~~~
Goons used to expect a lot of weirdness from working with the boss.
Sometimes Bruce Wayne would go into their base and yell at the Red Hood like he's one of his kids. Of course Wayne's well-known as 'Gotta adopt them all' but the guy must really suffer from insomnia to count the Red Hood into his brood of chicks several times. Sometimes the boss would fight Robin or Nightwing over differences in morals…or for biscuits. It varied from moment to moment. Sometimes the boss caught the local street children, fed them and taught them to steal correctly. And most of the foundlings stayed with them under their protection.
To make a long story short, Red Hood is not the typical crime lord that some of them had to deal with before. Which is a blessing. Thanks Lord for the health insurance. But still the crime lord. Which means he's still scary, and sometimes deadly.
Anyway, when the boss brought in a guy who looked more civilian than any civilian in the whole Gotham and said he was going to be their intern, they thought it was a joke at first. Despite the fact that Hood was not in the habit of joking while working.
The teenager was too well-mannered and sweet to come from Crime Alley. Phil thought the guy was gonna run when he saw the first murder, Jessica didn’t think the domestic boy wouldn’t chicken out at the sight of a fight. But arguing with a boss’s orders in their profession is like asking for a bullet in the head, so these conversations were taking place outside of their boss's sight. God, how can they teach him anything? What do you take from a boy who’s only good to do the coffee run? Fenton will fall if they’ll give him something heavier than 10 pounds. And then boss will yell at them because he treats the new guy like a princess on a pea. Well, at least that’s what they thought until the boss decided to give the new guy his own assignments:
~~~~~
Red Hood: So, what have you learned during your internship, my young Padawan? Danny: Well, it looks like I’m gonna suck at being a criminal mastermind. I think I may have to find myself some other profession. Red Hood: Come on, you just need a little more practice. Danny: Thank you but I don’t think that’s fit my obsession that good. Don't misunderstand me, I wanna be like most ghosts. But I was wrong to go to hit that goal only base on human stereotypes about my nature. Red Hood: What a pity. The newbies just learned not to flinch when you walk in. But, to be honest, I'm not gonna miss the adrenaline-boosting roller coaster of you at work. Danny: Oh, and I guess to hold on to the concept of humanity was really stupid too. I clearly no longer fit in and I’m finally ready to accept that. So, hopefully, if you get into trouble, you can rely on my ghostliness and call for help. I am the spirit of many talents and of my word. I can haunt your enemies or walk through the walls of Arkham Asylum. Whatever you need, I’ll be here. Red Hood: I’ll bear that in mind.
#dpxdc prompt#dpxdc au#dpxdc memes#dpxdc crossover#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc#dcxdp#dead on main#dead on main ship#alcohol
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Ours To Keep (2) | Joe Burrow
Angst/Fluff
Summary: Joe doesn’t have the best reaction to your news, and it causes some tension between the two of you.
••••••
You stared at Joe in confusion as he laughed.
“Good one, Y/N” he says, still laughing. “But if you’re going to play a prank on me, at least come up with a better joke” he adds as he calms down. “Joe, I’m not joking” you tell him quietly. “The acting was seriously top tier. How have you never shown that to me before? I mean the tears looked so real-“
“Joe I’m not kidding. I’m not trying to play a prank on you” you cut him off. “I’ve been nauseous all week, my boobs are incredibly sore, and I missed my period over a week ago” you explain, and he lets out a sigh. “There’s no possible way you could be pregnant. You’re on birth control. You have that thing in your arm” he reminds you, smiling again. “I think you’re being paranoid” he says causing you to scoff.
“Joe, this is serious-“
“You’re not pregnant. You sound crazy” he says pulling back from you. “Have I been working you too hard? Maybe it’s stress. Take the rest of the day off-“
“That doesn’t explain the positive pregnancy test on my bathroom counter” you argue starting to get aggravated. “I’ve been ignoring it for weeks. Hoping maybe I was a little bit crazy. But we weren’t exactly the most careful-“
“So you’re turning this around on me?” Joe asks, his jaw clenched. “No, I’m not-“
“That’s how it sounds. You were irresponsible and now you’re paying the price for it and taking it out on me” he spits with his eyes full of anger. “Last time I checked it takes two people for something like this to happen. I didn’t have sex with myself” you retort and he scoffs. “How could you let this happen? Do you know how much shit this is going to cause? I don’t need this right now. I have to go back to practice, and to be honest I’m not sure I even want you here right now. You’re dismissed for the day” Joe walked out of the office leaving you stunned.
You knew he might not have the best reaction but you didn’t think it would be like this. Joe has never spoken to you that way, even when he was at his worst. With tears in your eyes, you gathered your bag and slowly began to make your way toward the parking lot.
You had a lot of things running through your head, but one rash thought lingered and it made you sick to your stomach. It was going to be a long night.
•••
Later that night, you’re sitting on your couch with your laptop open in your lap. You decided to throw yourself into work, and Joe had a foundation event coming up that Robin asked you to help organize. Even mad at him you couldn’t let this go undone. His foundation was one of the most important things to him, and you kept telling yourself you were more so doing this for his parents. You’re about halfway through editing the announcement picture that would eventually be posted to the foundations instagram, when you heard a knock at your door.
Furrowing your brows, and setting your laptop on the glass coffee table, you walked over to the door and looked through the peep-hole. Your heart lurched at the sight of him. You open the door, and the two of you stare at each other for about a minute.
“You’re not here to throw me down the stairs, are you?” You ask, half joking.
Joe rolls his eyes, “can I come in?”
You move to the side and let him into your home. He kicks his shoes off, knowing you don’t like shoes on your light colored carpet. “What’s up? Why’d you stop by?” You ask, a sigh escaping your lips. You know exactly why he’s here, but you wanted to see what he had to say for himself. “I went home today after practice and had some time to think. The way I treated you was wrong and just absolutely disgusting” he says, stepping toward you, and you take a step back.
“I deserve that.” He says running his hand through his hair. “I never should have blamed you for this. This is just as much my fault, if not more. You did your part being safe, I’m the one that decided not to use condoms. That’s on me. I want you to know how sorry I am about today,” Joe says. You guys never breaking eye contact.
“You’re probably terrified, and I didn’t make it any easier-“
“That’s for sure.” You mutter. “Joe, I never meant for this to happen. And I’ve done a lot of thinking myself. I’m going to keep this baby. I’m not asking you for any help, I’m not asking you for any money. I’m fully prepared to do this by myself. I’ve started looking for another job-“
“Hang on a second-“
“You can sign your rights away. We don’t even have to tell anyone that the baby is yours. You’ll have no ties to it” you ramble, and he shakes his head. “That’s not what I want.” He states, his voice firm. “This is my kid, Y/N. Not just something I can pretend doesn’t exist. I want to do this with you, if you’ll let me” he pleads, reaching out to grab your hand.
“You really hurt me today, Joe.” You told him. “You made me feel like I ruined your life”
“I know, and I regret everything I said to you. I can’t even put into words how sorry I am. You didn’t ruin my life. Neither one of us could have anticipated this happening” he assures you. “I am so so sorry” he says, pulling you into his arms, wrapping you in a tight hug. “I’m still very upset with you. It’s going to take some time to fully forgive you” you tell him, and he frowns, but he understands.
“I have a doctors appointment in the morning, if you’d like to come” you offer. “It’s just to confirm everything and get a due date and all that fun stuff”
“I’ll drive and buy you breakfast” he says, looking down at you. “Speaking of food, I’m starving” you groan, and he lets out a laugh. “Alright, I guess I’ll feed you” he jokes, making his way to your kitchen. “Ooh, can you make that pasta that I like? I’m pretty sure I have all of the ingredients” you ask with pleading eyes.
“Yes, I can make you the pasta. Pick a movie, and shut that laptop. Work is over for the day” he orders.
“Sir, yes, sir”
•••
The Next Day
“Well congratulations, Y/N. You are indeed pregnant,” the doctor says, entering the room after your test results finally come back. “Both the urine and blood test came back positive. Judging by the numbers on your results it’s looking like you’re around 8 or 9 weeks pregnant, that’s around 2 months and a week.. Which would make your due date sometime in February, but we can’t be sure until we do an ultrasound” the doctor explains.
“The next course of action is going to be removing your nexplanon and doing an ultrasound” she explains.
You look over at Joe, who’s listening intently. He hasn’t said much since the two of you got here, but you’re giving him time. He wants to be involved, but he processes things a different way. You respect that.
“We can schedule the ultrasound for about a week from now. I don’t have any available ultrasound techs today. So I have a list of appointments, and you can choose what works best for you and your schedule. All of them are on Monday. There’s a 9am, 10am, 12pm, 3pm, and 4pm-“
“We can do Monday at 9am” Joe says, and you look over at him. “You have practice on Monday” you remind him. He shrugs. “We only watch film for the first two hours on Monday, you know that. They’ll be fine without me for an hour” he assures you. “We’ll do Monday at 9am” you tell the doctor, knowing Joe wasn’t going to let up.
“Perfect. Stop at the front desk to check out on your way back out. See you Monday. Congratulations, again” she smiles as she leaves the room. You look back over at Joe. “You okay?” You ask, and he nods. “I’m good. Now let’s go get you guys some breakfast,” he says, and a warm feeling spreads through your chest. You slip your hand in his and he leads you out of the room.
•••
“What can I get you guys to drink?”
“I’ll take a coffee with extra cream and sugar” you say, and Joe protests. “You can’t have coffee. Caffeine isn’t good for the baby” he says, and you shoot him a glare that’s strong enough to cut. The waitress looks between the two of you hesitantly. . “I can have a little bit of caffeine,” you argue, and look back at waitress. “Ignore him. I’ll have a coffee” you say with a smile. It’s Joe’s turn to roll his eyes, as he orders a water for himself.
Once the waitress walks away, you kick Joe’s shin under the table. “You’re not going to be one of those overprotective fathers who dictates what I eat, drink, and do. I’m an adult. I can handle myself”
He lets out a sigh, knowing not to argue because your hormones are high right now. “Please do your research before acting like a control freak. I can have up to 200 grams of caffeine a day,” you tell him, and he sighs. “I just want to keep the two of you safe,” he admits, and you start to feel bad for going off on him.
“I appreciate that, Joey, but we’re good. We can handle a little bit of caffeine” you assure him, a slight smile on your face. The waitress returns with your drinks, and the proceeds to ask if you’re ready to order your food. “Can I have two over medium eggs, with hash browns, and toast?” The waitress writes down your order, Joe looks confused, but orders his blueberry pancakes and the waitress goes to put the order in.
“You hate eggs,” Joe comments.
“The baby wants them.”
Joe laughs, tossing his head back. “What the baby wants, the baby gets”
~~~~~~~
Ahhh our guys won yesterday!! I’m so proud of them :)
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omggg more trophy wife reader and dad rafe!!!!!
hope you like it! ⭐️As you sipped your morning coffee in the sunlit kitchen, you felt Rafe’s arms slip around your waist. You leaned into his embrace, a warm smile already forming as he pressed a kiss to your temple.
“You know,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth against your ear, “you’ve been working so damn hard at looking this good. I think it’s time I gave my gorgeous wife a little break.”
You tilted your head to look up at him, raising a brow in playful suspicion. “A break?”
He nodded, that familiar spark lighting up his eyes. “Yeah, baby. Just you and me, on a little escape. Thought we could take the jet and get the hell out of here for the weekend. Maybe somewhere with beaches, crystal-clear water… Bora Bora sound good?”
Your heart skipped a beat. A spontaneous trip to Bora Bora with your loving, impossibly charming husband? Rafe had a knack for sweeping you off your feet just when you needed it most.
“What about the kids?” you asked, though the excitement was already building.
“Sarah said she’d take care of them for us,” he replied with a grin. “And, well, John B too. But don’t worry—Sarah’s got it handled.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, knowing Sarah’s responsible nature meant you could leave without a worry in the world, even if John B tagged along.
Within hours, you were on the jet, Rafe sitting close enough to reach for your hand whenever he wanted, his gaze lingering on you like you were the only thing that mattered. The flight was long, but with Rafe, every second felt exciting, like the anticipation was part of the fun. When you finally landed in Bora Bora, the warm, tropical breeze welcomed you, along with Rafe’s arm slung around your waist.
After checking into a luxurious overwater bungalow with panoramic views of turquoise water and Mount Otemanu in the distance, Rafe guided you to the finest boutiques in Vaitape, his arm resting possessively around your waist as he led you through each store, his attention unwavering. He watched you try on outfits, his gaze lingering just a little too long, his words low and flirtatious.
“That dress,” he said, leaning close, his fingers brushing your arm as you showed him the deep, fitted silk gown, “fits you like it was fucking made for you. But then again, everything looks incredible on you.” He tilted his head, a playful smirk forming. “Or off you. Either way, it’s perfect.”
You felt your cheeks warm as you turned back to the mirror, pretending to study the dress while you caught him watching you through the reflection, admiration practically radiating from him.
The afternoon continued with him indulging your every whim. Shoes, dresses, jewelry—Rafe insisted on all of it. As you browsed, he found excuses to pull you close, whispering little compliments, his voice laced with that confident charm that never failed to make you feel like the only woman in the world.
Later, as the day faded into a golden evening, Rafe arranged for a private dinner with a view over the lagoon, where the soft waves lapped beneath you and the sky turned pink and orange above. You sat across from him, candles flickering softly between you, casting warm light across his face.
“I love seeing you like this,” he said, leaning forward, his eyes tracing over your features. “Spoiled, relaxed. You fucking deserve it, you know.”
You smirked, raising a brow. “You’re spoiling me, Rafe. What did I ever do to deserve a husband who takes me halfway across the world just to treat me?”
He chuckled, his hand reaching across the table to catch yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles in a slow, reassuring rhythm. “Just by being you, sweetheart. You’re stunning, charming, and somehow, all mine. I’m the lucky bastard.”
As the night went on, Rafe didn’t let a moment go by without reminding you how much he adored you. His flirting was relentless, with just enough edge to keep you smiling and blushing.
By the time you returned to your bungalow, the soft sound of water below and a starlit sky above, you felt completely cherished and at ease, like there was no place you’d rather be. And as Rafe pulled you close, murmuring one last promise to keep making days like this for you, you knew you’d never doubt just how damn much this man adored you.
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