#don't know if it would be though i am not joking when i say this author drives me up the fucking wall.
call out my name | Lewis Hamilton
request: heyy, can we get a story with call out my name by the weeknd as the base line of the story .
word count: 3.6k
warnings: none
When you first met Lewis, you had a feeling it'd end like this.
If you could go back and change that night, you would, with no hesitation. You missed the days when Lewis was a nonfactor in your life when you didn't know he existed.
You remember that night all too well. Miami was always alive when the Grand Prix came around, your friends, like the partygoers they were enjoyed taking the opportunity to take on the vibrant nightlife and enjoy the crowds the race brought in.
It was an annual tradition, you could say, to party like tomorrow didn't exist when the lights shut down and engines roared to life.
When you first moved to Miami, you hadn't understood the essence of the sport or the crowds it brought in, until you met an overly enthusiastic Daniel Ricciardo.
You had no clue who he was when he quite literally stumbled into your path; his boyish smile and golden retriever energy made it almost impossible to be mad at him as his drink soaked your dress.
"I'm so sorry!" He calls out, stumbling over himself.
"You're not from here?" You called out as you reached down to help him stand up straight. His thick accent was a dead giveaway.
"No, I'm Australian."
"Long way from home," you shouted over the music, dragging his frame into an open seat further away from the dance floor.
"I'm working." He slurs, smiling up at you.
"Mhmm, doesn't look like you're working," you trail off, "what's your name?"
"Danny. After work fun."
"Ahh," you hum, "okay, understandable. I'm going to get you some water, okay? Did you come here with friends?"
"No. Was actually planning on making some friends." He laughs, and it makes you chortle as well.
"Miami is not the place to make friends Danny." You informed. "Stay here, I'm going to grab that water."
You saunter away, keeping an eye on the lean man as you approach the bar. You order a water, paying for the overpriced bottle with your Apple wallet, and quickly return to the drunken man. You don't know why you helped him; it was just in your nature to assist anyone you could.
Danny smiles up at you with an appreciative smile as you uncap the bottle for him, "Can you hold it, or do I have to give it to you?" You inquire.
"Give it to me, please."
You both break out into childish snickers at his words. "Easy there, buddy," you warn, tilting his chin up and directing the bottle to his mouth.
You pull it away, tightening the cap and placing it in front of him on the table. You then slide into the booth beside, "I'd feel better with myself if I stay with you for a while, just to make sure you're okay."
He nods, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows, "Yeah, I get it; I'm so shitfaced right now."
It is quiet between the two of you for a while, you constantly reaching over to make sure he's hydrated and him smiling at you all dopey-like.
"You from here?" He asks as he starts to regain his sober mind.
You shake your head, "No, just moved here though."
"You can be my Miami friend." Danny grins.
"I'll probably never see you again after tonight, Mr Australia." You joke, nudging his shoulder with your own.
"I come here every year around this time." He announces. "Work."
"Work," you nod. "Right."
"Yes or no?" He prods.
"Have to see if you can hang; it doesn’t look like you can." You joke.
He scoffs, leaning away and eyeing you. "Please, I am a good time, the best time."
"Sir, I've just met you, and I'm taking care of your drunk ass." You cackle.
"How about this, stick with me for the rest of the night, and if we have a blast, every time I'm in Miami, you ride with me."
"You're going to get white girl wasted every time?" You inquire with a raised brow, and he laughs hard.
"Probably."
It was safe to say that Daniel was a blast. Even if he did party like a fratboy, you enjoyed his company. He gave you the energy of a teenage coming-of-age movie, doing whatever and saying whatever with his friends. It was a connection you hadn't experienced before.
And you enjoyed it, you liked spending time with your Australian friend. Which is how you ended up meeting Sir Lewis Hamilton six years later.
Lewis didn't know why he allowed his enthusiastic coworker to convince him to spend a night in Miami with him. The only solace he found in the situation was knowing that he wasn't the only driver there. Everyone was there, in a section booked by no one other than Daniel Ric himself.
It was nice for sure, and Lewis was curious as to how Daniel, of all people, knew so much about the lively city of Miami and their restless nightlife.
Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Lewis, just felt out of place a little bit, without his usual crew.
"Hey Guys, I'll be back in a second, I'm going to grab my friend."
Lewis rolls his eyes taking another sip from his glass.
He doesn't know who he was expecting, a Ken doll, a high-energy frat boy like Daniel, or even a valley girl with a high-pitched voice. This was Miami, so logically his smartest anticipation would be a surgery-riddled Kim Kardashian lookalike. But not you, Lewis would never expected you to enter the section, arm wrapped around Daniel's waist as you cackle at whatever nonsense leaves his mouth.
He is instantly intrigued, his phone being powered off and stuffed into his hoodie pocket.
You were beautiful with your rich complexion and beaming grin as he walked you down the line introducing you one by one.
His eyes never leave you as he watches you interact with everyone. You cloud his vision as you get closer. His eyes trace your hair and flow down to your brows and your alluring eyes. His view travels down your nose and lingers on your spread lips. And he physically lets out a sigh as he traces over your body.
You would drive him mad. He knows it.
-
As you take the time to introduce yourself to Danny's coworkers, you aren't surprised to see, well, to make it short, people who are not of your crowd.
But to your surprise, they're all friendly and welcoming. You're not surprised to see that you have met some of them before on your trips with Daniel or when you fly out to see him.
When you reach the end of the line you see him and your confidence falters as your eyes meet his. You should've known by the way his eyes were drinking you in that he'd be a problem.
With conviction, you approach him, bearing a sly smirk on your face.
"I'm y/n." You declared, and Lewis returned the same decency.
"I'm Lewis."
Your hands meet in the middle and he has a soft grip on you, refusing to let go.
"What's a girl like you doing with Daniel."
"He's my friend." You reply.
"Just a friend?"
"Just a friend." You confirm, and the way he looked at you through his fluffy lashes was evidence enough of what was to come between the two of you.
-
Lewis wasn't all that the media portrayed him to be. He wasn't overly confident or carefree. He actually worried a lot and was stressed a lot.
You knew that he felt like he had something to prove. You met him at his peak, and even now, when he feels like he's at the worst in his career, you're still here.
"So you're going to leave?" You hum, rubbing your fingers through his parts.
"Do you think I should?"
He looks so stressed out that is it has your heart is aching for him.
He's slumped like a kid in your lap with his face set in a frown. "I think that if you're unhappy and there are ways that you feel can change that, that you should look for something new, yes."
"Did you mean what you said last time?"
You think back to the last time you were in his presence, how he had gotten drunk for the first time in years. You wince internally as you recall how you had to nurse him back to health that night, how he cried like a baby when he mentioned how alone he felt at Mercedes. Lewis Hamilton wasn't used to being an afterthought.
"Yes, I don't think they appreciate you, Lewis. I don't think they are valuing your feedback or honoring your talent. I think they are making you miserable." You confess. "There are so many other teams that would love to have you, who would fight for you to reclaim your eighth. I don't think you should keep going through this with that team. Look at how they have you."
"Is your favorite team still Ferrari?" He opens his eyes and stares up at you.
"Duh,"
When you first met Daniel, you had only heard of the sport, but as time went on, he fully immersed you into the world of Formula One. You quickly took a liking to the red team and its intricate history in the sport. When you met Lewis in 2018, he was shocked that you knew so much about them (and barely anything about him).
"Don't tell me you're considering Ferrari, Sir Hamilton." You grin and he only smirks up at you.
"We'll see."
-
After the eventful first night you had spent with Lewis nearly six years ago, Miami has become a frequent destination of his. And New York of yours. The two of you guys had a chemistry unlike any other, every night filled with breathless pants and chants of each other's names. It was electric and erotic all at the same time.
You were fully aware that you and Lewis weren't necessarily together.
You were fun for him and him for you.
It was a mutual agreement, a bond strictly built from the amazing sex that the two of you had together.
You were aware that when the time came for Lewis to settle down and spend the rest of his life together it probably wouldn't be with you. You had believed you'd come to terms with the fact. But the idea of you two being together in the future still lingered in the back of your mind.
But as you scroll through Twitter, images and small clips of Lewis walking hand in hand with a Brazilian model have your heart tightening.
It wasn't like Lewis hadn't given you that false hope of a relationship, because you'd like to think that all of those little small things were him giving in. Surrendering that stupid ideology of his that made him believe he was a permanent bachelor.
You'd been by his side and in his bed over and over again for the last six years. And you’d be doing the same again tonight.
You almost feel grimy, sitting and waiting for him in his hotel room as he takes another woman out on a date, but a part of you knows that you’d accept anything from Lewis. You had standards and you had morals, but for a man like him, you always seem to throw them all out of the window.
Your phone vibrates and pings as your social media erupts in a frenzy.
That was another thing that had your mind in shambles right now.
How open he was when it came to you.
How quick he was to show you to the public, none of his other flings had gotten that opportunity, well until whoever this chick was.
Before you, Lewis hadn't introduced his "fun times" to his friends or even bothered to take any of them to the track.
That was something reserved only for you, though, you feel sort of naive, watching the tan and leggy woman prance around hand in hand with Lewis as he leaves the paddock.
You feel like you're stuck at the crossroads as you wait for Lewis to return.
He'd flown you out here partly because he claimed he missed you so much and the other half because of how much of a hard time you'd been having with your life in general.
Lewis was also a sort of saving grace for you, when you were with him, none of your other problems mattered. So you were quick to accept his invitation.
You'd never have accepted if you knew that he'd be playing a cruel game with you like this.
When the door creaks open and he emerges with a happy grin on his face, and bags filled to the brim with what you know are gifts for you, you can only grimace. Your attempt at a smile seems good enough for him as he approaches you and places a sudden kiss on your head.
"Hey love," He smiles, "I've got some gifts for you, yeah, knew you'd need a pick me up."
And you can't help to wonder if you'd needed the pick me up from his actions or what had transpired within this last week which was the sole purpose of you going to see him.
"I'm going to wash up, really fast, yeah? And then it'll be me and you tonight."
You say nothing as he places the bags at your feet and rushes into the bathroom.
You don't move, but you allow your eyes to skim through the bags and sigh as you see just how much he spent on you.
You had gone and done it.
Gone and made some glorified elaborate fairytale out of a man, who'd only treasured your body and in return showered you with gifts.
You laugh at yourself as your hand comes up to palm at your forehead.
You were his goddamn sugar baby, not the kind of woman he'd settle down with.
You feel even more stupid at the realization, that all of the nights you'd lay with him and console him after giving him your body were not as you had made them out to be.
It wasn't romantic, it was transactional. Those nights where you offered Lewis emotional solace always came with a hefty reward the next morning.
And now, you feel tainted, knowing that all it took was a simple call of your name for you to come flying to him and land in his bed, wrapped around his body.
You found Lewis in his prime and stuck by his side through his decline. You comforted him throughout his entire descent down the totem pole. Helped him out of that broken place, and gave him reassurance and something to look forward to.
You treasured this man.
Put him on top, time and time again, when he would leave you feeling used after your time together. And if it was up to you, you'd probably continue this cycle. Giving him your all and getting nothing in return.
You really wanted him, you wanted him to want you, which is why you were fine with keeping his bed warm, at least he wanted you in some kind of way, craved you even if it wasn't the way you wished to be desired.
When he emerges from the steamy bathroom, body clad only in a pair of briefs and his body soft and glowing, you swallow back all of your thoughts allowing yourself to take him in.
He nestles beside you on the bed, taking one of your hands in his, "everything okay?"
You can only push out a meek "yeah."
And the night goes on as planned.
The dim light of dusk spills through the blinds of the grand hotel room, casting long shadows that dance across the walls. You sit against the headboard, The melancholic melody of the empty night mirrors the turmoil in your heart.
Six years ago, you met Lewis at a nightclub, your paths crossing in a haze of neon lights and pulsing music. He was charming and mysterious, with eyes that held secrets and a smile that promised adventure. Your connection was instantaneous, a spark that quickly grew into an all-consuming flame. You spent endless nights talking, laughing, and dreaming about a future together. Well at least on your end.
But as the years passed, you began to notice the cracks in your seemingly perfect world. Lewis' past as a bachelor was a shadow that loomed over your situationship, a constant reminder of the freeness he carried within him. He would disappear for days on end with no communication, leaving you in a state of anxious uncertainty, your mind racing with thoughts of where he might be and who he might be with. Yet, you had no right to concern yourself with these sorts of things.
As you lay in bed, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on you, you find the courage to ask, "Lewis, do you love me?" His silence is deafening, and the look in his eyes speaks of a love that is nonexistent, a love that is more of a need for you than a want.
"I care about you," he finally whispers, his voice tinged with regret. "But my heart belongs to someone else. I’m sorry."
Your world shatters at that moment, the pieces of your heart shattering like broken glass. You know you have to let him go, to find a way to heal from the pain of a love that was never truly yours.
You realize that you have been holding on to a love that was destined to fade, a love that has left you feeling empty and lost.
You deserve a love that is real and true.
He’s like medicine, he makes you feel good and at the same time, he’s like poison, running through your system and finding a new part of you to sicken. Lewis is a walking contradiction, you don’t know if he’s helping you or hurting you, if he loves you, or if he hates you. Surely, he hates you, why else would he be okay with making you feel like this?
And as the city lights flicker on, you vow to never lose yourself again.
You shouldn't ask, because you know you can't bear the weight of his answer but you do.
"The woman from earlier?"
He sighs, his response weak, "Yes."
"So no more us? Right?"
"I think this is the last time." He admits and you swallow back your tears.
"Okay."
"I still want to be your friend."
"We were never friends Lewis, and we're not going to be friends after this."
Lewis swallows, sitting up to catch your gaze through the darkness.
For years, you and Lewis had maintained a delicate balance, a friends-with-benefits arrangement that allowed you both to keep things uncomplicated. You cherished the intimacy, the shared moments of laughter, the comfort of his presence. But deep down, you always knew that this arrangement had an expiration date, an inevitable end that you tried not to think about.
And now, that end has arrived. Lewis has fallen in love with someone else. You can only turn away from him.
You stand up, the cool air of the room a stark contrast to the warmth of the bed. You begin to gather your clothes, each movement mechanical, your mind numb with the reality of it all. You glance around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings that now feel foreign and distant.
As you pull on your jacket, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Your eyes are filled with unshed tears, your expression a mixture of sadness and resolve. You know that this is the moment you have to let go, to walk away from a love that was never truly yours.
You think it's kind of ironic.
How you'd been there for Lewis, and when you needed him most, he's leaving you behind.
"Do you love me?" Lewis' voice echoes from his place on the bed.
"No." You lie. "It was fun, was fun being a pit stop for you." You chuckle.
"It wasn't like that-"
"No, it's fine, we weren't anything, you fucked me and brought me gifts in return, I ate that up, that's all. I knew I was only here until you made up your mind, I'm happy you did."
You had a tendency to become a bitch when you were hurt and you knew that your words were low blows, but your pride was too hard for you to allow Lewis to see himself affect you in real time.
In reality, you'd hoped that if the unfortunate and impending doom would occur, that Lewis would have the decency to allow you to fall out of love with him first.
Then it wouldn't hurt.
You knew what the arrangement was, you knew that you and Lewis were technically nothing and you always thought that when the day came for him to finally leave you, you'd be fine. You'd feel nothing. But you do.
It feels like when that one character who doesn't care about dying has a sudden brush with death, how almost dying rids you of every sane thought you have, a person who fears nothing all of a sudden fears death, fears everything.
You always thought you'd feel nothing, but losing, could you even say losing Lewis?
Being left by Lewis feels terrible, being left by him feels scary, like everything you knew before was not as it seems.
You always thought you'd feel nothing, but you feel everything you thought you never would.
And in the end, you still wanted him to stay. You wanted him to choose you. Even if he didn't want you.
here you go babes @greedyjudge2 !! I'm sorry it took so long <3
part two in the future fs.
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Anon who yearns after his boss here with a follow up.
First of all, thank you so much for taking the time and effort to form such a detailed reply and to include your followers, I really appreciate it!
I’d like to elaborate on what I meant when I said it would have no impact on my job. I do volunteer work, so I am not financially dependent on this job, and my boss unfortunately leaves the company in a month and I would probably wait until then to make any sort of move. So no matter how this plays out, it will pose no risk to my livelihood.
To answer your question, this is a pretty common dynamic for me. For some reason I have been in a lot of work/school/etc. settings where an attractive older man sees potential in me, I start working extra hard because of it and he starts giving me lots of attention and we fall into a really intense mentor/mentee relationship. This dynamic is so hot to me that I just end up in top of my class or employee of the month or whatever from being fueled by pure lust lol. Nothing compares. But I’ve never managed to take it to the next level because I either chicken out or play it too straight forward, which doesn't work like you said.
As for what you said about straight men looking for attention from queer men to fuel their ego, that is a very real possibility. He hides his insecurity well by being a jokester, but he's obviously a sensitive guy. It wouldn't surprise me if this is more about his ego than about attraction.
Him not viewing me as a guy is also a possibility, but I don't care too much. I get so horny that I lose any sense of self lol. He does treat me like a man though. I work at the furniture department of a second hand store and he never underestimates me to be able to lift something heavy or assemble something. He also compliments me all the time on getting stronger and handier, and all the progress I’m making.
Then on the other hand, he treats me with a certain gentleness and intimacy that I don't see him portray to my other male coworkers. We’re able to confide in eachother and get vulnerable. He tells me secrets no one else knows, like how he'll be leaving the company soon.
There's all these little moments throughout the day, like we'll be assembling a bed together and he jokes about how it has a certain eroticism to it, or how it turns him on when we work well together lol. When he sees me implement something he taught me, he's beaming at me with the biggest smile. We also have this running gag where I pretend to be his boss and tell him what to do, and he's always very obedient which is hot but also shows that he trusts me.
I love your idea about meeting up outside of work, because that's exactly what I was planning lol! He's really into photography and I asked him if he wanted to meet up sometime to show me the ropes, and he very enthusiastically agreed! So if I were to make any sort of move, it would be then.
Anyway, I’m really curious to see what you and your followers think now with all this extra information.
JESUS CHRIST ANON THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING
this is only a volunteer position?? he's leaving in a month?? he compliments you on getting stronger??? and says that assembling a bed together has a certain intimacy to it???
waht the fuck dog. my only concern now is that he's being weird and unprofessional af with volunteers. but no concern for you. you're clearly creaming your drawers for it. i say play ball.
you made this sound more forbidden than it actually was because that's exciting to you, you little minx. i see you. you've gotten us all involved in your erotic game, now you can go enjoy it.
let's re run the stats on this
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Some replieeeees, also hey it’s Summer (just noticed that)
Anonymous asked:
WELL I DIDN'T KNOW I WAS GETTING BLESSED WITH SAVANACLAW ROOK TITS TODAY
GOOD LORD I'M GOING TO MOTORBOAT ON THEM VROOM VROOM 😚😚😚
SURPRISE, ANON! Motorboat them to your heart’s content.
I am very happy that you liked Rook tits; it was probably very naïve of me to think that his nipple won’t be the main star of the drawing lol
Anonymous asked:
Planning on revisiting aus?
We might, but there isn’t any planning involved here; we just randomly remember about them from time to time and sometimes want to add to them lol
I’ve sketched a comic for the mafia AU not so long ago, but we only posted it on ko-fi for now…
Anonymous asked:
More Lilia content when?
Hopefully soon! We have some new stuff with him, so it’s a matter of time... If everything goes well, you should see a lot of more stuff relatively soon. For now he’s also on ko-fi, being unable to post regularly has fucked up our posting flow really badly.
Anonymous asked:
I'm not exactly caught up on the Savanaclaw Rook stuff,
But that doesn't mean I don't have some pretty fun thoughts.
Like one I had while looking at that art you recently posted.
And I'm just imagining Savanaclaw Rook and Pomefiore Rook are in the same room, for whatever reason, who knows, and Vil walks in-
And Pomefiore Rook looks at Savanaclaw Rook-
And he just sees the hearts in Savanclaw Rook's eyes while looking at Vil.
And he knows that Savanaclaw Rook's already as hooked on Vil as he is.
Cause Rook just having an "on sight" moment when first meeting Vil is something I absolutely love.
:)
Awwww, this is so cute. At first I thought you were going to make a ménage à trios joke…
He absolutely had an “on sight” moment when he first saw him at NRC; and while I think it’s fair to assume that this isn’t Rook’s actual first time seeing him (being such a theatre nerd and all), seeing him irl probably felt different somehow.
Looking at S!Rook’s reaction is probably pretty nostalgic for P!Rook.
No but really they really should hug Vil together and show him all kinds of love-
Anonymous asked:
Thinking nonstop about the characters being called daddy and master post,, it makes me imagine a scenario where Silver's sleeping around campus (probably because his father told him to so he could live a little) and someone asks him to call them daddy... He would be so confused like "???? I am not your son 🤨" save my boy LOL
Silver calling Lilia daddy or papa in bed would just end up being so cute 😭 Lilia stopping what he's doing and totally breaking his image as a cool and strict dom to be like "Eh?? Ehh??? You haven't called me that in years 🥺"
(this is about this post)
I am very happy you enjoyed that one, Anon!
Oh poor Silver lol Or should I say poor people who will never be the father that Silver loves dearly… even though this isn’t what they wanted from him at all. And these poor fools would think that the issue is that the word is too familial, and this is why Silver doesn’t consider it sexy. If only they knew…
Imagining Lilia dropping his dom thing to gush over his precious son being very cute and suddenly calling him daddy/papa is very funny though, he wouldn’t expect that at all. Despite being all kinds of cursed, for some reason this is the one moment that Lilia would consider pretty wholesome… which only makes it even more cursed lol
Although to be honest it’s surprisingly difficult to imagine Silver calling Lilia anything other than “oyaji-dono”. Imagine Silver’s first word being not “papa” but “oyaji-dono” instead…
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hi Silver! o/ because that fanart made me wonder - would you happen to know when/where Dick's stuffed elephant plush Zitka turns up in the comics?
GREETINGS CAM <3333 THAT ART WAS SO CUTE
Yeah, I think your instincts are right - it's a truly adorable bit of transformative fandom, but I'm 95% percent sure it's not comics canon. Barbara has canon plushies, but I don't think anyone else does.
I got kinda invested in the investigation (it's hard to prove a negative!) and I ended up typing out an entire History of Elinore/Zitka, so, uh, if you're curious, meet me below the cut for:
Where does Elinore / Zitka - the animal - appear in comics?
Did Dick ever have a stuffed elephant toy in comics?
Where does Elinore / Zitka appear in comics?
We're gonna go in chronological order!
Dick's circus elephant friend was first created for practical reasons: in Batman 436, Marv Wolfman does a big expanded flashback to Dick's circus backstory as a way to subtly show us Tim before officially introducing him (so that we can have a technically-solvable mystery-of-Tim's-identity in LPoD). In this comic, there's an elephant named Elinore who loves Dick:
Aww. Such a cute elephant!
Batman 436 comes out in August 1989. New Titans 60 comes out a few months later, in November, and guess what? When Dick visits the circus, he is suddenly surprised by an unexpected blast from the past! It turns out that even though it's been years, Elinore still remembers him!
Here's the part where Elinore remembers Dick:
SUCH a cute elephant. I love her.
(Guess who else still remembers Dick even though it was so long ago. Guess which other character is about to be an unexpected blast from the past. Guess which character Elinore is directly paralleling guess guess guess sorry everything is about Dick and Tim in my mind but I can focus I swear)
Four years later, in 1993, Batman: The Animated Series retells Dick's origin story. They like and keep Wolfman's elephant, but they change her name to Zitka:
Wolfman doesn't return to the elephant beyond those two appearances, and a few years down the line, New Titans gets cancelled and Wolfman's not writing Dick anymore anyway. So the animal gets abandoned for a while, until Devin Grayson, a fan of both Wolfman and B:tAS, revives the Wolfman-era Titans team in JLA/Titans and then the ongoing series Titans 1999.
Grayson then brings back the elephant in a flashback to Dick's past in Titans 16 (Jun 2000), where she imports the B:tAS name. Sometimes I'm skeptical of TV-to-comics imports, but honestly, I endorse this one. You lose the alliteration, which is a shame, but IMO Zitka is a better elephant name than Elinore.
Here's Dick with the newly-christened Zitka in Titans 16:
Grayson also briefly references the elephant in Gotham Knights 20 and - in a final angsty callback - in Nightwing 88 (Feb 2004), where Zitka tries futilely to comfort Dick in the midst of his trauma conga line:
... And... honestly, I think that's it for comic appearances? The two Wolfman comics plus the three Grayson comics.
Both Wolfman and Grayson are writing multiple titles - Batman, New Titans, Titans, Gotham Knights, and Nightwing between the two of them, spanning a big chunk of Dick's post-Crisis canon - and both writers use the elephant for heartwarming moments of nostalgia, which means if you're doing a post-Crisis readthrough for Dick, Elinore/Zitka feels memorable. But I don't think she actually shows up that much.
For post-2011, I am not as well-informed - throwing this out to the dash? anyone know? - but I feel like Zitka the heartwarming symbol of Dick's heartwarming circus past is, uh, thematically very at odds with the Court of Owls evil!circus vibes, so my instinct is that this story element was almost certainly dropped in the reboot.
Did Dick ever have a stuffed elephant toy in comics?
In WFA, yes; in main comics continuity, no. Technically, I have not read every comic ever published, so I could be wrong!! But I don't think so.
Below, find my rambling reasoning on the tonal vibes of pre-Crisis, post-Crisis, and post-2011, and why this particular story element doesn't seem right to me for the first two.
Pre-Crisis (...okay, mostly the Silver Age): stuffed animal, yes or no?
tl;dr no, requires too much background knowledge on the part of the reader, plus the elephant wasn't a thing until later
Elinore doesn't get created until post-Crisis, but also just generally, pre-Crisis callbacks are more along the lines of this reference in Batman 129 (published in 1960), where, wow, Batman and Robin are hunting jewel thieves - and it turns out Robin recognized this strongman! BUT HOW?!
The comic goes on to recap Dick's entire origin story in flashback, on the assumption that you may not know it.
(BTW, if you'd like to know more about Haly's Circus throughout the years, nightwingology has a great post here summarizing a lot of fun plotlines and characters!)
Basically: Silver Age comics are very self-consciously episodic and kid-friendly; they're not generally gonna do overly-elaborate callbacks because they don't know what comics their kid readers may have randomly picked up or remember.
By the time of post-Crisis, comic books were being written for an adult audience buying from the direct market, i.e. readers who are collecting whole runs & don't need or want Dick's origin story to be recapped to us in full every time it's referenced. That's why in post-Crisis, we get stuff like "hey, neat, this particular soda brand is getting mentioned in several different books!!" or "in order to understand this story arc, buy SIXTEEN DIFFERENT COMICS in FIVE DIFFERENT RUNS and read them ALL ACCORDING TO A NUMBERED ORDER and also you better be following the individual plotlines and recognize these five minor characters who we don't bother to introduce!! Good luck!!" But the elaborate post-Crisis plotlines - and subtler worldbuilding like a stuffed animal callback to Dick's backstory - don't make a lot of story sense UNLESS you're imagining your readers as completionist adult fans.
So IMO a stuffed animal wouldn't be a pre-Crisis thing unless it was The Episodic Story Of the Week, and I don't think a stuffed animal is action-adventure-y enough for the fast-paced storytelling of the Silver Age. (Unless it, like, came to life and tried to eat you or something.)
Post-Crisis: stuffed animals, yes or no?
tl;dr: no, Dick's a manly tough guy, he's not gonna have a stuffed animal, that'd be lame, like something Tim might do
Part of the edgy grimdark adult vibes in 80s/90s comics is that some characters who used to be kinda silly & goofy & lighthearted - like Batman and Robin - get reimagined as Serious and Angsty and Edgy in a Tough Cool Manly Brooding Way. This massively affects characterization for Bruce, Dick, and Bruce and Dick's relationship.
(I obviously love this change & love the tense Bruce-and-Dick interactions, but plenty of fans of the earlier fluffy comics really disliked the edgy retcons of Miller / Wolfman / Starlin / et al.)
The upshot is that post-Crisis is a period when you could have a recurring reference like a stuffed elephant, but you wouldn't have a stuffed elephant, not for Dick. I think a toy like that would be too cutesy / childish / effeminate to give a male character in post-Crisis, unless you were poking fun at him.
Now, you could probably let Tim have a stuffed animal, because Tim is sometimes cool but also sometimes a tryhard loser who is faking being cool and not entirely pulling it off (see e.g. the Robin comic where he practices tough-guy faces in the mirror, or the Teen Titans comic where Conner discovers his cringy Enya CD, or when he's fanboying over Connor and it's awkward, etc etc.). A stuffed animal would be deeply embarrassing, and you'd have to be careful to compensate by having Tim do something cool afterward - but Tim's character concept allows for "he's kind of a loser sometimes."
But Dick isn't!! In post-Crisis, Dick's a tough / impressive / "cool guy" character, the kind of guy anyone would want to be, even in the flashbacks where he's Robin, and even in the stories where he's more lighthearted than angsty. It'd be kinda lame for Dick to have a stuffed elephant, so he wouldn't. I feel like Dick would be more likely to poke fun at it if someone had one, like when he's making fun of Wally for liking the Hardy Boys. Dick could have a Batman action figure, at most, and if he had one he would have it ironically.
Basically: in post-Crisis, a male character hugging a stuffed elephant feels more likely to be a punchline to me, not something poignant. (Even with Tim, Tim could have an embarrassing stuffed animal, but he couldn't hug it when sad - that's too far. Maybe Booster Gold might do this. Probably he wouldn't, but spiritually, he would. Sorry Booster ilu! <3)
Instead, Dick instinctively deals with his inner turmoil like the TORTURED ACTION HERO he is: by punching things and brooding and yelling and joining the mob and sleeping on rooftops and going on obsessive secret missions and acquiring Angsty Stubble!! Just like Batman!
(Technically I don't know if Bruce ever joined the mob but you know he would.)
Anyway as you know this is my favorite continuity and I am poking fun affectionately, but uh, yeah sdfsfdsfs. No stuffed animals.
Post-2011 / Infinite Frontier / Wayne Family Adventures: stuffed animals, yes or no?
tl;dr it's in WFA! Probably not anywhere else, but it could be.
Post-2011 stuff tends to be cutesier overall, most of all in the current Infinite Frontier era. So I don't feel like this would be tonally out-of-line with IF comics. Taylor tends to go for more meme-y references rather than fanfic references, though.
So the obvious best fit is WFA, which is aiming for a rough approximation of Silver Age family-friendly vibes - wholesome, episodic plots, Teaching Good Moral Lessons For The Youth, etc. - plus lots of Easter eggs for fanfic readers and some comic references.
And look, here we are:
Aww.
Whew - that's everything I could find!
Anyway as you can probably tell, I LOVE the elephant, so this was a very entertaining rabbit hole to go down, thank you <3
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"are people not into that?" i ask, after posting my weird niche shit to the internet, despite knowing it to be weird niche shit.
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thinking about older women
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yall wanna know how fucked up my anxiety is about some shit
i scroll past a post that's about a topic i don't like. whatever, it's fine. i scroll past a video that's a topic i don't care about. that's normal.
i scroll past a video that's a topic i don't like or care about but the person presenting it is a person of color? i IMMEDIATELY feel immensely guilty and need to "compensate" by "proving" it wasn't because of race by also skipping other random posts, JUST IN CASE someone thinks I'm racist because I didn't want to watch a video on a topic I didn't like or care about, that happened to be presented by a person of color.
this just in on: the police in my brain are loud and i'm scared of them
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I think my least favorite thing that happens in fandom spaces is how overly familiar people act towards you. Like whenever I get a post over 200 notes I have people making jokes in the tags that aren't like outright distressing or gross or anything but that just. idk! are jokes I would only make with people I know. Like "fuck you!" or "oh this is awful" or whatever that's done in a joking tone but it's still weird. You don't know me like that
And it's not so much a problem over here because we are so insular as a community so even if I don't know you guys by name or if we don't follow each other I still recognize the person commenting on my stuff. enough to almost certainly recognize the joking tone instantly and for that familiarity there to be warranted. we're not friends but it's like, yeah! I know this person they've been here forever. It's comfortable.
But in larger spaces that casual familiarity is gone. I've literally never interacted with you before. It's like if you overheard a conversation on the street and just walked in and started joking around with them like you knew them. it's uncomfortable!! and like yes obviously I'm looking for interactions when I post and tag things that's the whole point, so it is inherently different than say a private conversation being intruded on but djakfoofjf just don't act like you know someone you've literally never engaged with at all before.
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Lately all I’ve wanted to write is dark stuff, but not in the fun way. I think it’s the mental illness acting up again.
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I was curious and checked the game's acronym, TBG, here. And it seems there was an animated movie - The Bad Guys based on a book of the same title. I might have a watch, since it seems like a fun coincidence.
I can assure you though, there are no bad guys here. A little joke for you, see?
Cakebread, out!
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declaring myself the only person who is normal about this one anime (closely followed by the two irl friends who made me watch it, and my mum who watches it with me, but they are not subjected to nearly as much Online stuff as I am so they are inherently more normal about things anyway)
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Yknow if qsmp decide to put indo ccs on the server and got them an Egg imagine their name can be indo food lol
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first day back from my vacation and i'm already crying bc of my brother and mom
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DP x DC Prompt #4
When they all convene at the cave, Alfred is silently wrapping Dick's knuckles. Damian hovers beside him. Tim and Barbara are hunched over the batcomputer, not even sparing Bruce a glance as he strides over.
"Report," Batman grunts. No one reacts.
"Report!"
"Hood pushed his panic button at 2:34 AM," Barbara says shortly, straightening.
The button had been a joke, mostly because Jason would never use it and everyone knew it.
"I patched into his comm at 2:35. This is what I heard initially." At her nod, Tim presses play. What occurs next is a garble. There is the sound of high winds, as if Hood is rushing through the air, even though the comms are designed to filter out any ambiance otherwise the Bats would never hear each other. Interspersed is a mixture of static punctuated by high, inhuman screeches of metal and something else unknown.
"This goes on," Barbara says after thirty long seconds, switching it off. "Red Hood failed to respond to any attempts at contact. I dispatched Nightwing to Hood's location at 2:36 AM. He was approximately two miles away." She pulls up a GPS map of their respective locations, their beacons blinking.
"At 2:41 AM, Red Hood's comm goes off, as does his GPS," Barbara says, swallowing softly as the red beacon indicating Jason disappears. "Nightwing arrives at 2:42 AM."
Dick doesn't say anything, head hanging low as he grips the metal table he sits on. Damian glances between the two of them, expression flat but fists clenched.
"Nightwing, report."
"..."
"Scene was empty, B," Tim speaks up. "No trace of Hood, no sign of a struggle. No cameras in the alley. We've been checking the ones nearby but so far there's no sign of anyone but Hood heading in that direction...and no one, Hood included, caught in the cams heading out, not within that time frame."
"So he's still in the area," Batman concludes. "The local buildings?"
"All the entrances have cameras, which showed no evidence of Hood nor any evidence of being tampered with," Barbara says. "Nightwing, Red Robin and Robin canvased within a half mile radius to check for any signs of disturbances in any of the windows or rooftops but found no evidence to support Hood being taken. A scan confirmed several serial offenders, but when interviewed and searched there was no sign of Hood. Several in the area reported an unusual quiet for Crime Alley."
Batman forces the next question out. "Did you check the dumpsters?"
"Yes," Nightwing grits out. "Empty."
Barbara clears her throat. "I have attempted to reconnect to Jason's GPS and comm as well as restart both remotely but there's no signal at all. The thing is, when there's a disruption like that it usually leaves some sort of sign" she pulls up the audio waves, pointing at the end where the spikes conform into a straight line that makes everyone deeply uncomfortable. Upon playing, the noise from before plays before going abruptly silent. "But there is no large spike, this is clean. It just ends. His GPS is much the same. It's not off, it's just gone."
"I know you don't like to hypothesize this early on, B, but we think this involves a meta," Tim says, rewinding the audio. "We've been running the audio from Jason's comm through different filters, playing with the levels and isolating what we can and, well, take a listen--"
The screeching drops to a sort of muffle and in the background, distantly, they can hear bits of Jason's voice.
"No, I'm not---"
"--don't need--"
"get AWAY from--"
a particularly desperate yell that makes Tim flinch, "I am NOT--!"
and almost a whimper that makes Batman's blood run cold, "please..."
And then, unfairly clear even through the faint garble, Jason says "I don't have a choice, do I."
And a minute later, quietly: "Ok."
The audio cuts off.
The defeat in Jason's last words is palpable, and fundamentally wrong. Jason has never sounded defeated a day in his life, and no one knows how to process Red Hood all but giving his hands over for the cuffs. Nightwing pushes himself off the table.
"I'm going back out there," he growls. No one tries to stop him as he stalks out the cave, not even Alfred.
"I will accompany Nightwing, make sure he does not punch any more walls." Damian says, nodding tightly.
"B?" Barbara asks.
"Keep working on it. See if you can identify what could be making those noises if Hood was standing still in an alley," Batman says, walking towards the zeta tube. "I'm going to make a few calls."
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Hold My Calls
pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: you teasing leon about his flip phone leads to some fun
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), fucking during a phone call, age gap, daddy kink, praise/degradation, over-stimulation
word count: 2.9k
a/n: hey everyone school is kicking my ass rn, but i am back with another one. thank you so much for the support on my last post that meant the world to me. i don't care if this is not technologically accurate or whatever just let me be delusional in peace. as always comments and reblogs are appreciated and i will give you special smooches in return <3
also thank you too my loves @tosuckmyweenis @kaitkatme @chasingkennedy @explorevenus @sleepyluxe @death-paint @petitecolibri for helping me come up with ideas for this one and/or beta reading - ily all sm :)
When you started dating Leon Kennedy, obviously you knew there was an age gap. You figured it wasn’t a big deal. He’s only thirty-six. That isn’t that much older. And for the most part, that was true. The difference in years never seemed to play a huge part in how you loved each other. But there was one thing that reminded you of this man’s age.
He had a fucking flip phone.
Honestly, it didn’t even say much about his age. It highlighted his stubbornness. He was not incompetent. His job had him working with all kinds of shit that you didn’t even try to understand, so it’s not like he can’t work a smartphone. He just doesn’t want to.
It didn’t really matter. If anything, it was kind of cute. The way he fumbled with the buttons that were too small for his fingers. The loud chiming ringtone that he would grumble about yet never turn down. The sight of him trying to find the right distance to hold the phone away from his face so he could read the font. You had heart eyes on your first date when this man popped in a CD because he couldn’t use the aux with his flip phone. They were simple quirks, but they were just so endearing to you. You’d tease him about being outdated, and he’d put up with it cause it was you.
“Why do I need anything more? This thing can call you, and that’s all I really need,” he’d say with a teasing expression when you’d crack a joke.
You’d roll your eyes at the excessive charm, but you couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, but-”
And he’d cut you off with a kiss. “Trust me. I like it. It’s simple. Plus it’s like indestructible. But if I ever want an upgrade, you’ll be the first to know.”
The only time Leon ever considered ditching his trusty flip phone and upgrading to something more advanced was when you would send him nudes. Seeing the masterpiece that is your body reduced to a handful of pixels on the tiny screen drove him fucking wild. Upon hearing the chime of his phone and seeing the small image of you gracing his screen, he’d find a moment alone to try and see the details. He’d hold the phone two inches away from his face trying to make out every last curve. Days when he got those pictures ended with nights where you got fucked on every surface in the house.
He’d come home from work, his eyes full of lust before he even saw you. You’d glide into the room with a knowing smile on your face. You wanted him just as bad as he wanted you.
“Hi, baby. How was work?” you ask, feigning innocence. You close the distance between the two of you and wrap your arms around him.
“Oh, you care about my work now, huh?” he asks, a smirk creeping onto his face as his arms return your embrace, “Doesn’t seem like it when you send me those cute pictures during the day, distracting me, making me think about you when I should be focused.”
Your lips part and your eyebrows raise in mock offense. “I only send those to help you, motivate you,” you tease as your fingers coast along his biceps, “Maybe if you had a real phone they wouldn’t bother you so much. You’d be able to see everything clearly and not be left imagining.”
“I don’t need to stress about pictures though when I got the real thing waiting at home for me every night,” he purrs as he leans in and starts kissing you.
You return the kiss with the same level of passion, lips moving with his as the two of you stumble over to the couch. You fall back onto the cushions with Leon on top of you. His hands already roam your body and begin removing articles of clothing. He wasn’t in the mood to take his time after having that grainy image of you gnawing at his mind all day.
“Fuck, baby. Every time… I can never get enough,” he grunts as he yanks your top over your head and tosses it to the side. His hands rub up and down your sides, the rough pads of his fingers dragging over your sensitive skin and making you squirm. In no time though, they’re on your breasts. He kneads the plump flesh as his lips trail down to your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of saliva-coated skin in their wake.
He’s all over you all at once it seems. It’s overwhelming in the best way. You’re moaning and writhing on the couch, nearly trying to hump his leg while one of your hands tugs at his hair. You bite your lip and whimper as his lips move down over the swell of your chest.
He grabs your hips firmly and presses them down to the couch. His half-lidded eyes look up at you momentarily. “Quit squirming,” he breathes. He gives your chest a few more kisses while keeping his eyes locked with yours. “Need time with my pretty girl after I’ve been aching for her all day.”
You give a weak nod and focus on controlling your movements as he tugs your shorts off and drops them.
“Good girl,” he mutters before attaching his lips to one of your nipples and swirling his tongue around the peak. He hums in satisfaction as he feels the bud in his mouth. His fingers lazily stroke up and down your folds over your panties. He disconnects his mouth momentarily and looks up at you again with a smirk on his face.
“So wet already?” he teases, now being his turn to look smug, “You want me just as bad, don’t you? That’s why you send those pictures right? You’re missing Daddy while he’s at work?”
“Mhm, miss you so bad. It drives me crazy,” you say. A whimper escapes you as his fingers apply more pressure and his movements more strategically target your clit.
“I can tell. Makes you act like a little slut, huh?” he asks before he kisses down your stomach to the hem of your panties.
You feel your face getting hot at his comment, but you nod anyway. You bite your lip and keep your eyes locked with his.
He chuckles at your timid confirmation. “That’s ok, honey. Daddy’s here now. I’m gonna make sure you get all the attention you need. Can’t have my girl left wanting,” he says, pulling down your panties and putting them with your other discarded clothes.
He loops his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer so that you’re angled in a way he can reach you from his position on his knees. Your back is flat on the couch, and your legs are held over his shoulders. He doesn’t waste time, licking a stripe up your cunt and then delving his tongue inside of you.
Your head falls back onto the cushion in response. A moan escapes your throat at the sensation. Your sounds only increase in frequency and volume as he grips you tighter and fucks his tongue in and out of you. He watches you, relishing how he can pleasure you with so few touches. His tongue laps up your wetness and his mouth finds your clit again, sucking and flicking against the bundle of nerves just how you like.
His name and a variety of expletives leave your mouth while your hand slides into his hair and holds the blonde locks. Your hips twitch from the rising feelings of ecstasy in your tummy, but Leon’s hands keep you firmly in place. He devours you like a starved man, the hours of torture that little picture inflicted on him all paying off right now.
He’s skillfully swirling patterns onto your clit and occasionally exploring your insides. He knows you’re close because he can feel the way you’re pulsing and hear the way your moans and whines reach that slightly higher pitch. It only makes him work with more dedication.
“That’s right, sweetheart. C’mon, give it to Daddy. Let me taste it,” he grunts as he continues working you to the edge.
You cry out, your thighs quivering and your hips bucking as you succumb to release. You’re moaning with abandon, fingers clutching his hair as tight as possible. He groans into you from the sight in front of him.
You ride the high and he continues with his mouth throughout. When you reach the seeming conclusion, your chest is heaving and your limbs feel heavy, but Leon doesn’t stop. He continues on as if you were still on the way to your climax instead of coming down.
“Too much,” you whimper as your hips jerk and your hands make a weak attempt to push his head away, “Daddy, please.”
“Daddy, please?” he mocks with a laugh, “But this is what you wanted, babydoll. You wanted my attention, didn’t you?”
You whine, hips still squirming as your retort dies in your throat. It felt euphoric, it was just so much. This was what you wanted though.
“That’s what I thought,” he says before burying his face between your thighs again.
He continues eating you out until you’re an absolute mess. Your eyes are rolling back, nonstop whimpers fall from your lips, and your twitching thighs are clamped around Leon’s head. It was what he’d been wanting to see since he’d heard that chime in his back pocket.
“I’m gonna cum,” you slur. Your head felt cloudy from the numerous orgasms he’d brought you. A strangled cry tears through you as your body moves like it’s possessed. You convulse on the couch while his mouth makes you see stars for the umpteenth time.
Tears prick at your eyes from the intensity of your release, and finally, he starts easing off of you. He pulls your thighs off of his head and leans back. He wipes his chin that’s coated in your slick and licks his fingers. Seeing that alone has you clench around nothing which in turn spreads a smirk on his face.
“Good girl, baby,” he coos, planting a kiss on your inner thigh, “You did so well. I’m proud of you.”
He stands up from his knees, grunting as he gets to his feet and taking a moment to stretch. You can tell the extended amount of time in the position put some strain on him. Your lips curl into a small smile while adoration fills your hazy eyes.
“Your joints locking up on you, old man?” you tease with a quiet laugh.
“Don’t start,” he says, trying to sound stern, but you can see him suppressing his own smile, “Especially since I know you want more.”
That shuts you up because he’s right. He shakes his head and makes a mock sound of disappointment.
“I know you, baby. My dirty girl. Made you cum how many times, and you still want more,” he says. He begins stripping off his clothes into a pile next to yours. “My little whore would never turn down a chance to take my cock.”
Once his clothes are off, he languidly strokes himself a few times and climbs on top of you. He peppers some kisses on your face and starts to slide inside you. You were more than ready but still sensitive from the recent series of highs.
“Don’t worry, sweet girl. I’ll get you full of my cum in no time. Fuck all that neediness right out,” he murmurs into your ear, his breath on you sending chills down your spine.
You mewl and tighten around him in more ways than one. Your arms cling to his torso that hovers above you while your walls squeeze around him to take him deeper. He grunts and his head falls forward a little as he feels sparks of pleasure in his abdomen.
“There you go, angel. Taking me so perfect. My pretty girl. Made for me,” he says into your ear as he sinks into you completely.
You nod mindlessly, your head fogging up again as he fills you. He presses sloppy kisses to your neck as he starts pumping in and out. You’re both breathing heavily and allowing the pleasure to take over. One of your hands slides to his hair to rub his head while his hips snap against you.
He’s falling into the perfect rhythm with you, one that’s driving you both toward the goal line, when suddenly you hear a muffled guitar strum coming from the floor. Leon groans and you burst into laughter as you hear the ringtone you had set for him as a joke.
His movements get weaker as his focus is drawn elsewhere, but he doesn’t stop rocking his hips. He reaches down to the floor where his phone is ringing in the pocket of his crumpled pants. He fishes it out and shifts so he’s kneeling while drilling into you.
He holds the phone up and squints to read the tiny caller ID on the flip phone which makes you laugh harder through moans. He smirks at your laughter and clamps a hand over your mouth. “Shut up, I gotta take this,” he says teasingly.
He whips open the phone, the maneuver causing you to moan and squeeze around him again. He winces at the sensation, nearly unable to restrain himself from giving into his carnal urges to groan and slam into you harder.
Your eyes widen as he brings the phone to his ear without stopping his hips and in the most monotonous voice says “Kennedy here.”
It’s good that his hand is over your mouth to keep you quiet. The contrast of his movements and that voice have the sparks of pleasure igniting into flames in your belly. Seeing how he handles his dumbass flip phone so smoothly has your arousal nearly pooling on the couch.
He listens to the call while grinning at you struggling to keep yourself somewhat under control. “Uh-huh. Yeah. Sounds about right,” he drones as the person on the other end goes on and on.
His strokes are just as deep as before, nudging you in the perfect spots repeatedly. Your eyes roll back as you feel yourself getting near the peak. A soft whimper escapes you, loud enough to pierce the barrier of Leon’s hand. His hips sputter at the noise and his face contorts. He lets out a quiet grunt but quickly catches himself before losing it further.
“What? Yeah, I’m listening,” he says, his tone growing a little impatient, “Look, I’m just wrapped up in something right now. Could you not have just told me this before I left?”
You know he’s getting closer himself and struggling to hold back. You can tell from the way his jaw is clenched and his eyes are projecting his rising frustration he has for the person who made this call.
“Yes, I understand. I’ll deal with it tomorrow,” he says, effectively ending the conversation.
Then, to hang up, he doesn’t press a button. Instead, he flicks his wrist and shuts the flip phone with a clack.
You throw your head back against the couch cushion and a loud moan rips through your throat. You shudder as a wave of pleasure courses through you after witnessing something so unexplainably hot.
His eyebrows raise in amusement, noticing how much you enjoyed that. “Hmm, I’m not hearing any complaints about the phone now,” he says. He’s trying to tease, but his voice is husky with arousal. He maintains his grin as he drops the phone to the floor again and returns to his previous position which was closer to you.
“Careful, you’re gonna break it,” you whimper.
“Nah baby, I told you that thing is indestructible,” he breathes and starts pounding you into the couch mercilessly.
You bite your lip and resume clinging to him, your fingers digging into his back. You both are panting, expressions going lax as you focus on chasing the high.
“Daddy, ‘m gonna cum,” you mewl, unable to contain yourself for much longer.
“Go ahead, sweetheart,” he says into your ear, his voice taking on more of a growl, “Daddy’s right there with you. You deserve it for being so good for me. Being nice and quiet while I was on the phone.”
As soon as you have permission, you give into another release. Your legs shake and your arms cling to him tighter as the euphoria shoots through you. You’re gasping for air and whining while squirming beneath him. Soon it’s just too much for Leon. He tightens his grip on you and slams deep before groaning and draining himself inside of you.
He rocks in and out a few more times before slowly pulling out. He then sits up on the couch and sinks back into the cushions. You follow by sitting up as well and curling up against his side. He pulls you into his lap, stroking your hair away from your face and kissing your forehead. The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while until he gazes down at you with a smug look in his eyes.
“I knew the flip phone was a turn-on,” he says, clearly pleased with himself.
You scoff. “It is not. It was just… it was the situation,” you defend.
“Sure, but you were tightest when I was messing with the phone,” he says knowingly.
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
He laughs at your stubbornness and gives you another kiss. “You can admit it, baby. I won’t judge. Really, if you like it that much, maybe I’ll show you how strong it can vibrate later.”
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[bernie sanders voice] i am once again.. thinking about coparenting megumi with boyfriend!satoru.
"so you're both megumi's..."
"guardians," you smile politely, praying stupid shit doesn't leave the mouth of the boy next to you. it's wishful thinking.
"yes," he beams so tenderly that you resist the urge to scrunch your nose in disgust. he takes your clammy hand lightly in his and turns back to megumi's teacher. "we had him young." a soft ow comes from under satoru's breath as you kick him under the table, forcing an expression of normalcy onto your face.
you hated parent-teacher conferences because it reminded you just how abnormal megumi and tsumiki's situation was. they had no parents, nor did they have any close relatives that cared for them the way a family should. that left you and the white-haired idiot in the tiny seat next to you to fill in that duty, and between missions and training students, you weren't around as often as you wanted to be.
"i...see," the teacher says hesitantly, eyeing your boyfriend with obvious unease. after a moment, she regains her composure and refocuses on you completely. "is there anything you wish to discuss before we begin?"
"not for me, no."
"when can we get him bumped up a grade? or have him skip one altogether?" every single word that comes from satoru's mouth is a joke but it still has your face burning with embarrassment that you were associated with him. "you know, i skipped a few grades when i was young."
"i can tell," you whisper and he pinches the flesh of your thigh between two fingers in defiance.
"i believe that skipping grades would be unwise at this time, as we haven't done any testing yet-"
"he was kidding, i swear," you say apologetically and, thankfully, the teacher continues as if on a script.
"i see. well, megumi is progressing wonderfully in the class. he's very adept at reading and writing, but he does struggle with math sometimes. it's nothing to be worried about; many children struggle with math at his age." you nod in understanding but grimace inwardly. megs always wanted you to help him with math homework since satoru became frustrated with the problems faster than the actual 2nd grader.
"for being the strongest, he's not that smart," megumi stated bluntly one night while you helped him on a coffee table in the teacher's lounge. you'd sent satoru on a walk around campus after his distress was clearly bothering megumi, who ended up suffering more from satoru's "help" than benefiting. "you're not around that much anymore to help me so i don't know what to do." his tiny eyebrows furrow and you reach out to run your fingers through his spiky black hair.
"i'm really sorry i'm not around as much anymore. do you want me to ask nanami? he handles math all the time."
"i think that'd be worse than satoru."
"you can't get much worse than satoru, buddy," you concede and his mouth turns up a little bit. nothing like a little insulting his mentor to get the boy's mood improved. still, his frown returns like it's his default expression.
"what if i can't do it? what if i'm not like everyone else?" it made your chest ache in a different way when megumi or his sister said something like that, like they were well aware that they weren't normal children. your heart panged for them and mourned their loss of a "normal" childhood just because they were born into a big three clan. it wasn't fair and it was something you lamented to satoru almost every week. you couldn't tell the boy any of that, though, no matter how much you wanted to explain why he wasn't like the rest of the kids in his class.
"just try your best, okay? sometimes, that's all we can do. you're already doing great by asking for help. it's not your fault if someone doesn't know how to help you, so just keep trying." he nodded determinedly; after another hour past dinnertime, you finally finished walking him through the rest of the problems while satoru draped his lanky body over the couch behind you, watching defeatedly over your shoulder.
"is there anything we can do to help him with math?" you ask, unconsciously weaving your fingers with satoru's and giving it a light squeeze. he squeezes back three times. i-love-you.
"he just needs a little reassurance that he's on the right track sometimes."
"mmm, don't we all," you murmur and you don't expect the teacher to laugh softly under her breath, muttering her agreement. before you know it, you've organized megumi's papers into his folder and picked him up from the playground outside his classroom, taking his hand as you walk back to the car.
"your teacher says you're doing well in class."
"really?"
"mhmm, though i didn't need her to tell me that since i already know." you shoot him a small smile, leaning into satoru's body as his arm wraps around your torso. "you, however, need to learn some manners," you lightheartedly tease, knocking your elbow against his abs. "you were not helping in there, you menace."
"it was boring, what do you want me to do?" his tone is so carefree, so comfortingly satoru it made your heart melt.
"it's a parent-teacher conference, not parents. you could have waited outside if you were so bored. went to play on the playground or something." his head dips close to your ear and you feel some strands of his hair brush against your skin.
"but then i don't get to watch you be all mature and put-together."
"trying to follow my example?"
"trying to break your composure," he corrects with a sly grin. "i'm the fun one, after all."
"that's one way to put it," megumi deadpans without hesitation and you stifle a snort.
"i'm one of a kind!"
"you're out of your mind, is what you are." before he can protest, you press a kiss to his cheek and he turns a slightly opaquer shade of pink. "but i wouldn't have you any other way."
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