#(putting this in the tag too since there's some liked that aren't in my tag)

[edith-is-a-cat]

Fuck.

I wish I could help.

[nightzskii]

dont mind this post

looking at old tags the best i can

[kousanosgf]

men, minors dni

councilor!sevika x housewife!reader

sevika comes home after another tiring day. gladly, she has a good way of reliving stress.

tags: domestic fluff, oral (reader receiving)

it was well past 12am but your kitchen was alive, filled with smells of spices and meat. sevika was still not home, and recently she took a very annoying habit of staying too late at work. you couldn't blame her. maybe you were staying home all day and having all the time to enjoy yourself and work around the house but you were knowledgeable enough to understand how hard politics can be. so there's definitely not even a thought to voice any of your complaints to sevika.

yet, you couldn't stop to feel disappointed and dissatisfied the whole day, ever since you woke up late in the morning, sevika already off to work. it was unfair that you are unable to meet her while living in the same house and sleeping in one bed. and that's the exact reason why you were staying up late, waiting for her to come home. "i will not go through the day without seeing my own wife." you told yourself as you put on the apron about an hour ago to spend some time cooking so you wouldn't fall asleep by accident.

finally you hear a key clicking in the lock and a door opening. you smile to yourself but don't move from your place to meet sevika, the pan demanding your full attention.

sevika moves around the house, taking off her boots and outwear, washing her hands in the bathroom, before coming into the kitchen.

"give me a sec-" you don't finish your sentence, sevika surprises you by basically attaching herself to your body, hugging from behind and nuzzling into the top of your head.

"sorry i'm late." she mummbles and it makes you smile.

"how was your day?" you ask as you stir the stew on the stove.

"i work with complete idiots."

you can't help but laugh at sevika's attitude. she sounds like a pouty child, the sleepiness in her voice definitely adding to overall cutness of her.

comfortable silence hangs between you as you continue to cook and sevika just tracks your hand movements. she gets restless, you guess, when you feel her palms cup your breasts. sevika presses more into you and kneads your chest, her mouth coming down to leave light kisses on your neck. it tickles and you flinch away slightly. sevika just presses harder, your frame now caught between her and the counter.

"aren't you hungry, babe?"

she humms in agreement but doesn't let you go. "my meal is right here." it's probably the cheesiest thing you heard from her but you're so in love it works, something twirls in your lower belly.

you nudge her to the side to turn off the stove so the food wouldn't burn and face her finally. there're dark circles under her eyes, she definitely needs a better sleep schedule. the sight makes you frown.

"i hope it's your day off tomorrow, like you promised." you look at her with a stern look but cup her cheek gently, rubbing circles with your thumb.

"it is." sevika grins, there's a mischievous glint in her eyes. "planned spending it without letting you out of my grip". her hands rise back to your waistline, toying with the ties of your sweatpants under the apron.

there's a lot you can tell her. it's been a long day for both of you, especially sevika. she probably only had quick snacks on her brakes. she needs to sleep more. but how can you when she grew basically professional at seducing you.

treating your silence as a permission to continue, sevika slides your pants and underwear swiftly. suddenly you're in the air, held by her, as she places you on the kitchen counter.

"made me nervous there, doll," she huffs and squats down to place herself perfectly between your legs. "thought, i'll have to beg."

she starts slow, taking her sweet time to get you hot and wet. she squeezes your thighs while telling how her day went. the end of the year is coming and it seems everyone demands annual reports on her every move.

you really try to be an attentive wife and listen carefully to her stories but it's basically impossible when sevika runs her hands up and down your inner thighs, the contrast of temperature between her arms makes you shiver. you can help but gasp as the finger of her metal arm dips softly in the crease where your hip connects to the crotch.

"no, baby. don't block the view." she teases when your legs twitch, trying to close from the unexpected contact.

"sorry," you sigh. "just... weren't you so eager for this?"

"i am." sevika laughs and puts her head on your hip. "but don't you want to be a good wife and listen to what i'v been up to?"

and you do. of course, you do. but that's not really the reaction she waits from you. recently sevika's been set on a mission. begging wouldn't help in this situation. what she really wanted is you demanding things from her. you were too nice and sweet, usually considering other's wishes first rather than yourself. sevika finds it cute and cherishes that part of you. it's one of the traits that was important for survival in zaun, people being empathetic towards each other, always ready to help the community. but everything had it's limits and by sevika's judgment you needed to be selfish sometimes, specifically with her, because either way she was willing and ready to serve your every wish.

"vika, please." you whine.

"try again." she turns her head to kiss your thigh.

"fuck- you need to eat me out!" you finally give up, leaning further back, your head presses against the wall, hips thrust up to get closer to her mouth.

she doesn't let you wait a second more as she basically leaps forward and puts her lips on your pussy. your apron is still on you, sevika dips under it, hiding herself. she chuckles as you whine displeased and doesn't let you drag the fabric up for a better view.

there's a pause that's followed by a bite on your inner thigh. "use your words."

"wanna see, vika. let me see." there's a smile against your skin. she lays her lips back on your dripping cunt and reaches for the laces of your apron.

the sight is magical, you think. her face rubbing against you, nose already coated in your slick as she was teasing your clit, sliding up and down. sevika holds your gaze, taking in your reaction, and then just dives deeper, closing her eyes. her tongue is inside of you now. you cry out with pleasure, you legs closing around her.

sevika is so so so good for you. she can't move her head now, so she can only use her mouth. the tongue disappears from your hole and she just sucks on your clit. her puppy grey eyes are back on you, drinking in your reaction.

the kitchen is filled with your quite moans when she holds you there for couple more minutes. then she decides something for herself. the tip of her tongue on your clit. it dances lightly without much rhythm.

sevika once told you, she needs to try to spell the whole alphabet on your pussy and maybe it's the time for it. and if it is, you're not sure you can last through the whole thing, already too worked up.

"vika-" she raises her brows in question. "need to cum."

as she hears it, the pressure hardens, her tongue now laying more flat, trying to cover as much skin as she can. the sounds of her mouth and your drenched cunt become louder. you have to hold onto her head, pushing fingers through her hair, to steady yourself.

sevika doesn't stop, doesn't slow down as you reach the climax. "need to clean up the mess." she usually jokes, guiding you through the feeling and then some, becoming delirious with need to overstimulate you till you actually tell her to stop.

you slide down the counter when you finally catch your breath, legs shakey. sevika has to steady you, grabbing your elbow.

"i'm not letting you out of the bed till monday." you say, brining yourself closer, kissing her wet lips.

"can't say i'll be disappointed." sevika grins. you scoff under your breath and tug at her arm out of the kitchen, stumbling like a baby deer on shaky legs.

[astonmartinii]

false start | lewis hamilton social media au

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem swimmer reader

some people are getting a bit too ahead of themselves

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

.・゜゜・ part of the aston martini summer olympics ・゜゜・．

espn

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, lillyking and 509,455 others

tagged: yourusername & lewishamilton

espn: the 2024 paris olympics kick off tomorrow and we'll be keeping a close eye on the pool. and despite being one of the biggest names in the sport and the fiance of seven-time f1 world champion lewis hamilton, we don't predict to see y/n y/ln on the podium this summer.

view all comments

user1: when will y'all learn?

user2: i swear they did this back in 2021, saying she wasn't good enough any more and then BAM she won double gold and they were suspiciously quiet after

user3: i hope she dunks on their heads again

charles_leclerc: STOP UNDERRATING HER I SWEAR TO FUCK

user4: bro hasn't even started as lewis' teammate and he's already ready to throw down for y/n

charles_leclerc: i have been a fan of the queen since before i even started in f1 - no one disrespects her in front of me

user5: espn better be shaking in their boots after that

lewishamilton: 😐

user6: the king has spoken

user7: it's an emoji babe

user8: real lewis fans know that this is worth a thousand words

user9: the picture with the double gold is going to hit like crack i fear

user10: best believe i know that they'll tag espn just to be messy

user11: i'm sat. i'm so sat. the cinema workers have told me she doesn't compete for a couple days but i'm simply so sat

yourusername: ⏳

user12: OKAY SLAY

user13: i need these golds like i need air

user14: okay queen i need you to run back the celebration from last olympics

user15: time to become an honourary aussie for a couple weeks to support y/n

user16: LET'S FUCKING GO KANGAROOS

user17: run me my passport australia

user18: when will lewis get his australian citizenship

lewishamilton

liked by georgerussell63, charles_leclerc and 1,459,833 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: go get em'

view all comments

user22: gIVE ME ONE CHANCE PLEASE GOD PLEASE

user23: sorry to everyone else at the games, but the hottest couple has arrived

user24: tiktok girls PSA: if i don't have ten alchemy edits of them on my desk by tomorrow morning THERE WILL BE ISSUES

yourusername: for you sir, anything

yourusername: ugh your ✨ title ✨ is so hot

lewishamilton: let's win and then put it to good use 😉

landnorris: do you people mind?

yourusername: why are you always in our business? don't you have your own little guppy to follow around in paris?

lewishamilton: he's just lonely? or not? i can't keep up with his relationship drama

landonorris: EXCUSE ME?

yourusername: you're excused? we've been together for like eight years we aren't used to whatever drama you've gotten yourself into

lewishamilton: eight years, six months and 237 days :P

user25: first espn and now lando? they're not holding back this summer

user26: fucking around and finding out is what summer 2024 is all about

georgerussell63: good luck y/n !!!

yourusername: thank you georgie :)

georgerussell63: and i checked, i don't think there's any gb swimmers in your events (other than the relays) so you'll have my full support

yourusername: thanks?

lewishamilton: he's a little confused but he's got the spirit

user27: i need y/n to win and come to the paddock with her medal for zandvoort

user28: i am seeing it and i need it to happen

olympics

liked by lewishamilton, pierregasly and 893,209 others

tagged: yourusername

olympics: never in doubt, y/n y/ln takes gold in the 100m backstroke final!

view all comments

user29: RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

user30: suck on that espn

user31: espn admin come outside rn please i jUST WANNA TALK

lewishamilton: @espn KEEP MY (soon to be) WIFE'S NAME OUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH

yourusername: that was so hot

lewishamilton: you wiping the floor with the whole pool was so hot

lewishamilton: but then again you're hot doing literally anything

yourusername: says you mr model

lewishamilton: i got a few things i wanna model for you ...

yourusername: is it my gold medal and nothing else ?

lewishamilton: how did you know ???

user32: so winning a gold medal really does make you horny on main

user33: some of us lived through them with no PR managers, this is tame

user34: they're one couple where it really wouldn't surprise me if something got leaked

yourusername: can confirm it tastes as sweet as it did in tokyo

oscarpiastri: could you hear me cheering? i was so loud :)

yourusername: funnily enough, no

oscarpiastri: oh :(

yourusername: but i felt it in my spirit!

oscarpiastri: good :) because i think i have slightly deafened your husband 🤷‍♂️

lewishamilton: my ears are still ringing but i'll take it because you were supporting y/n

yourusername: awwww you cuties

user35: yall saying that kimi antonelli is lewis' grid kid but it's clearly oscar

user36: if i watched lewis put yellow and green glitter on oscar's face on live tv it's not a conversation to start with

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, jensonbutton and 1,459,783 others

tagged: olympics & lewishamilton

yourusername: gold in both 100m and 200m backstroke is more than i could've ever dreamed coming into these games, thank you to my family, friends and wonderful fiance for their support. and to the others, you know who you are, be careful on all those false starts you keep making ;)

view all comments

user38: where are you ? LET'S BE HAVING YOU !!!

user39: her winning the golds regardless isn't enough i need a gun

espn: ... i'm sorry?

lewishamilton: YOU SHOULD BE

espn: sir, i am just an intern who posts what i am given

yourusername: well now you're making me feel bad

espn: i can give you my boss' email?

lewishamilton: YES PLEASE LET ME AT EM

user40: bullying works?

lewishamilton: i'm so so so so so so proud and so so so glad that everything lined up for me to be there and witness your excellence in person 🙇🏾

yourusername: i love you so much and couldn't have done it without you, all those facetime dates and missed anniversaries are worth it in the end

yourusername: although i am looking forward to following you around the world again for a bit

user41: thank fuck you're not retiring ????

yourusername: who said that ??? @espn was it you again??

espn: not this time i swear!

yourusername: i can confirm that i am not retiring, us terrorising all the youngsters in our sport is kind of our whole bit

lewishamilton: although some people could learn to walk away - cough @fernandoalo_oficial

yourusername: really?

lewishamilton: beef waits for no one

fernandoalo_oficial: well i personally was cheering on y/n, you can choke

user42: how does y/n look so good even after racing?

yourusername: getting laid well and often 👍🏼

lewishamilton: you're welcome

yourusername: i love you 🥰

lewishamilton: i love you more

fin.

note: hope you guys enjoyed!! swimming is always my favourite olympic sport (i also swam for ten years so that's probably why lol)

[phoenixyfriend]

Star Wars Time Travel Rec List

About time I put together a General Rec List for Star Wars Time Travel, yeah?

Organized by the time-traveling character(s). I'm adding a star for my favorites that imo you have to read. I'm not going to claim that those are necessarily the best, because I feel like that's not objective and also kinda mean to the ones that are good since they might just not be to my personal taste, but they are my favorites.

Obi-Wan

Anakin Skywalker

Ahsoka

Clones

Other Prequels-Era Characters

Two or more people

Luke or Leia

Other

Tagged authors where I could. If they aren't tagged, I either couldn't find their tumblr, they have their settings such that no one can tag them, or they blocked me for one reason or another.

Obi-Wan

It Was Another Time and I Another Man by Pell_Binterhol - under "Groups"

Ashes To Ashes, Dust To Dust by @livsy ~35k+, complete Obi-Wan is a time traveler, mental from the OT. What makes it unique is that the fic is from Anakin's POV. It's a very heartwarming piece.

⭐Take it from the top and try again by @mauverawrites ~170k, series - two fics complete, more on the way Possibly the best way to describe this series is as the platonic ideal of an Obi-Wan time travel fic. Weird Force stuff? Check. Obi-Wan having spent years on Tatooine? Check. Qui-Gon surviving? Check. Obi-Wan doing some shady illegal stuff to get money and infiltrate crime rings so he can save the galaxy? Check. Anakin being adorable as an initiate, and Shmi being saved from Tatooine? Check. Surprise Feemor? Check. It's all the bits you (or at least I) hope for when opening a new Obi-Wan Time Travel fic, and it never feels stale or repetitive or cliche. It's just a Very Good Fic.

The Exchange by @misslearn - under "Groups"

An Abundance of Obi-Wans by The_Last_Kenobi (orphan_account) ~45k, abandoned Unfortunately we'll never know how this ends, but it's a lot of fun while it lasts. Baby Obi is being haunted by three ghosts of his future self.

A Padawan at War (Again) by @itstimeforstarwars - under "Groups"

Free Jedi to Good Home by @itstimeforstarwars- under "Groups"

These Paths by HiddenEye - under "Groups"

⭐the massive machinery of hope by @killbothtwins 150k, complete Do you want comedy? Yes, you do. This one is great. Go read it. It's one of my favorites for a reason, and the reason is that Obi-Wan is a sarcastic little shit with a billion quips.

Living Memory by elsa3beth 353k, on hiatus, possibly abandoned? Obi-Wan Time Travel, leans a bit more heavily into the distrust and despair surrounding Anakin (due to Vader things from the future) than most.

⭐The Desert Storm/Rise and Fall by @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning ~1.6m (1592k), ongoing This is one of the longest, most consistent, best-regarded time-travel fics in the fandom for a reason.

⭐Reprise by Elfpen ~560k, ongoing Another Obi-Wan time-travel fic, this one using that favored cover story of "Ben is Obi-Wan's biological uncle," and I love it so much for how it explores both characters and political events.

Realign the Stars by @fortunerainwrites, @TerinAngel - under "Groups"

Current of Fate by @feybarn ~195k, on hiatus? It's been so long since I read this one that I can't quite remember what it was that I liked about it so much, and it's too long to do a reread right now... but I do remember loving it, especially when it switches to an outsider POV for the second fic.

Anakin Skywalker

The Exchange by @misslearn - under "Groups"

A Padawan at War (Again) by @itstimeforstarwars - under "Groups"

Free Jedi to Good Home by @itstimeforstarwars - under "Groups"

War Drums by @intermundia ~91k, ongoing Vader travels back to TPM. Runs off with Obi-Wan into the stars to Achieve Some Goals to take down Sidious. Gets quick-aged to 19 by some Dathomiri magic. Projected to be Obikin.

These Paths by HiddenEye - under "Groups"

Old Promises by @threebea ~65k, ongoing Time Traveler Anakin panic-kidnaps Initiate Kenobi. Absolute disaster of a man.

An (Un)fortunate Haunting by @kooriicolada, @scarletjedi 3.5k, oneshot Anakin thinks the Vader ghost haunting him is a hallucination. This one is technically more than just Anakin, but it's... mostly Anakin.

⭐Force of Many Sights by DAsObiQuiet ~480k, on hiatus? Vader to TPM, possessing his younger self. This fic has a heavy, and much-appreciated focus on therapy as it functions for someone of Vader's... particular situation. This is also technically a "Groups" series, since it's also got Siri Tachi as a time-traveler, but her POV is much smaller, and it takes... I want to say about 100k words for her to really start playing a more active role in the plot.

Realign the Stars by @fortunerainwrites, @TerinAngel - under "Groups"

Ahsoka

I don't know why all the good Ahsoka time travel fics are her as part of a team, but they do in fact fuck, so. I LIED I forgot to bookmark one of the Ahsoka fics I like.

Free Jedi to Good Home by @itstimeforstarwars - under "Groups"

These Paths by HiddenEye - under "Groups"

Realign the Stars by @fortunerainwrites, @TerinAngel - under "Groups"

Living in Borrowed Time by @scribbling-albatross - under "groups"

⭐Although He Smiles by @autumnillustration - ~157.6k, ongoing This one is amazing, it's an Ahsoka main, and she is very funny with Padawan Obi-Wan and adorable with 9yo Anakin. Lovely.

Clones

love is with your brother by Petrichor (Mythmaker) ~8k, complete TCW Rex bodyswaps with his baby self. POV is Ahsoka during the clone wars.

Free Jedi to Good Home by @itstimeforstarwars - under "Groups"

These Paths by HiddenEye - Rex and Cody - under "Groups"

Realign the Stars by @fortunerainwrites, @TerinAngel - Rex and Cody - under "Groups"

Living in Borrowed Time by @scribbling-albatross - Rex - Under "Groups"

⭐Dominoes by meridianpony ~380k, ongoing All five Dominoes go back to the beginning, from the points of their deaths! (Disclaimer: Echo's treated as having died at the Citadel. I think the fic started before his survival was revealed.) Technically this is a group, but all five are clones, so...

Other Prequels-Era Characters

there is no death by @ashkav ~140k, ongoing There is something really cool about Cal Kestis time travel fics, especially when he's got a decent amount of knowledge of The General Situations (e.g. Anakin will become Vader) but is missing so many details, like Why and How.

⭐An Echo in the Force (a whisper in a cave by @stardust2flame ~8k, complete Feemor is trapped in a time loop. This was actually written as a gift to me, so it has a special place in my heart.

⭐Mace Windu Fixes the Timeline... And Breaks it in Whole New Ways by AbsentmindedAuthor98 ~52k, ongoing Absolutely choice series based on an AU by @suzukiblu. Mace Windu does some time-traveling. He takes on Anakin as his padawan on an impulse, but he ends up doing his damnedest to be a Good Master for the kid. Depa helps.

Twilight on Owl Creek Bridge by @yellowocaballero - Fox - under "Groups"

Make a Brand New End by @batshieroglyphics ~120k, I think on hiatus Another Feemor fic! This one's not time-loop, just time travel. Lots of juicy Qui-Gon drama.

⭐Not a Good Man by @feybarn ~28k, ongoing Imperial era Boba Fett goes back to AotC. He decides to fix things, partly by trying to get his dad to fall in love with Obi-Wan Kenobi.

a distant fire is burning by e_va ~47.5k, ongoing This is another Cal fic! It's got video game logic in it. Also, Anakin and Cal are both being so weird about sort of being adoptive brothers, it's great.

⭐They Don't Care About Us by @ironhoshi Time traveler Boba! And Cal! They're doing great, sweetie. Their best. Obi-Wan and Jango are mostly just confused. (Has anyone checked on Anakin? Someone needs to go check on Anakin. Again.)

Groups

It Was Another Time and I Another Man by Pell_Binterhol ~200k, incomplete This is a very fun fic that involves multiple time-travelers from multiple points in time. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon from the Legends novels are pulled forward into TCW, and Old Ben and Luke are pulled back from the OT, and some spoilers as well.

⭐The Exchange by @misslearn ~120k, complete A swapping-style time travel. RotS Anakin&Obi-Wan end up in TPM, and TPM Anakin&Obi-Wan end up in RotS. Shenanigans ensue. (Also trauma.)

⭐Can We Start Over? by @triscribe ~22k, ongoing Most of the Jedi have time-traveled from the points of their deaths to about a year pre-AotC. Some handle it better than others. The POV is Aayla, which I find very cool.

A Padawan at War (Again) by @itstimeforstarwars ~183k, ongoing It's technically more of a de-aging than a time-travel, but hey! Still a good read! TPM Anakin and Obi-Wan take the place of their TCW selves, who no longer exist.

⭐Free Jedi to Good Home by @itstimeforstarwars ~complicated as the second fic has been hidden, ongoing This is one of my favorite series, but as you can see by the above, it's in a bit of a timeout right now. Bookmark it for later? Also, there's an entire side series called Inspired By One Hundred Hours To Rearrange The Stars.

These Paths by HiddenEye ~90k, complete Our five TCW mains (Obi-Wan, Cody, Anakin, Ahsoka, Rex) are booted forward to the Original Trilogy. The latter three are deaged to their TPM ages (9, 4, baby respectively). Also it's CodyWan.

Twilight on Owl Creek Bridge by @yellowocaballero ~33k, complete Leia and Fox time travel! This one is very dark. That said, it has a comedic counterpart that I love, which is only available on tumblr: ⭐Fox & Leia's Holiday Special

⭐Realign the Stars by @fortunerainwrites, @TerinAngel ~68k, abandoned Obi-Wan, Anakin, Ahsoka, Rex, and Cody, from TCW to TPM. Despite the unfinished state, I cannot deny the oddly intense level of influence this fic has had on my own approach to star wars time travel fics.

⭐Living in Borrowed Time by @scribbling-albatross 118k, ongoing Rex and Ahsoka are time-travelers! They are so, so very fucked up. Sure do wish they had access to therapists that could actually be cleared for knowing their Extensive Lists Of Traumas. This one definitely had a huge impact on how I characterize Rex and Ahsoka since I entered the fandom.

Luke and Leia

Twilight on Owl Creek Bridge by @yellowocaballero - Leia - under "Groups"

There is another Skywalker by WabiSabi ~85k, on hiatus? Time-Traveler Leia! Mentally in the sequels, physically in her thirties, and chronologically in the clone wars. Also Luke's sharing space in her noggin.

Shifting Sands by @chancecraz ~180k, ongoing "Ongoing? But it hasn't updated since 2021!" The last time it updated, the chapter was 65k, after over two years of radio silence. Trust me when I say that the lack of recent updates means nothing for this author. Anyway, Sequels Leia to about a year pre-TPM, hangs out with baby Anakin and Shmi and then neatly inserts herself in the plot.

⭐Of Queens, Knights, and Pawns by @chancecraz ~860k, ongoing Same author as above, same disclaimer for the gap since last update. Sequels Leia does a mental time-travel into her ANH self, specifically the 'being tortured on the Death Star' moment. It's so fucking good.

Old Man Luke by @scarletjedi ~110k, ongoing Sequels Luke to TCW! He is very cryptic, channeling the Jedi who taught him! Fun!

⭐Sith Lord Swell by AMournfulHowlInTheNight ~53k, ongoing Luke and his students (including Ben Solo) travel back in time to a bit before AotC. They decide the best way to proceed is to pretend they are Sith Lords. This is primarily a comedy fic. Luke really enjoys fucking with people.

⭐Don't Look Back by @this-acuteneurosis ~700k, ongoing Post-OT Leia (after the deaths of most of her friends) physically time travels to a year or two before AotC. She is taken in by the Lars family, and then she and Shmi start to head for Coruscant, run into Padme, and join the Nabooan government in Padme's employ. Do you want a fic that feels like 70% politics and logistics and trade routes? Because that's what this is and it's great.

Other

The Way of Conquest by pagination ~76k, ongoing There is something very funny about the time-traveler not even realizing they are about thirty years into the wrong time. Din has no idea when he is. Grogu does, but he's not telling.

[hitoshitoshi]

Telekinesis [Caleb x Fem!Reader 18+]

Summary:

Caleb bullies you for hours with his cock.

Or

Caleb puts his Telekinesis Evol to use.

Word Count: 1.3k words.

Tags: Inappropriate use of Evol, Power Dynamics, Consensual Sex, Dom/Sub, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Deepthroating

“Ah, ah, ah, Pipsqueak, don’t even think about it.”

Caleb was so mean — the meanest of the mean. You would think that someone who was part of the Deepspace Aviation Administration would be more put together outside of his work, but you were dead wrong. Because here Caleb was, leaning back on his gaming chair playing games online with his friends, headphones in, with a handsome smirk on his face as he was beating the other team round after round. And where were you? On his lap round after round.

Caleb replied to you, his voice brimming with a hint of condescension, masked with innocence and concern, "Well, Pipsqueak, it's not like you've been moving at all these past few hours. I've been doing that for you so you wouldn't get tired. I wouldn't ever let my darling Pipsqueak ever tire herself out." Caleb pressed his cheek against yours, his breath tickling your ear as he continued, "Plus, I want my Pipsqueak to feel good, yeah? You're gonna feel good for me?"

Your brain was already mush 3 hours ago, 10 rounds in, unable to think a single coherent thought as all you did was just moan and nod in agreement to Caleb's words. You always loved it when Caleb made you feel good. You always wanted to be good for Caleb. You just had to.

Caleb smirked as he gave you one last look before resuming his game, "That's my girl, Pipsqueak, just let your Caleb do all the work".

"Caleb," you whimpered out with your lips against Caleb's neck, tears were in your eyes with copious amounts of cum dripping from your spent pussy, your body moving up and down on his cock as though you were some doll. Well, you were, since Caleb was using his Telekinesis Evol to turn you into his cocksleeve— you looked pathetically ravishing. Just like how Caleb liked you to be. Caleb was so sweet to you outside of bed, yet he was the biggest bully ever in bed.

And you loved it. You loved it when Caleb would be like this to you — you loved being his toy. You loved it when he took control of your body and just let you feel. You loved how he could easily lift you up with his Evol so that only the tip of his cock was still in your pussy, and you loved it when he would drop you back down on his cock so that he would fill you up, so very deeply.

The contrast between the gentle caress of his cheek against yours and the relentless pounding of his cock inside you was driving you wild. Your overstimulated nerves sang with each thrust, each drop, each fill. Your walls clenched around him, milking his cock, your body responding even as your mind floated in a haze of pleasure.

"Look at you, Pipsqueak," Caleb murmured, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. "So full of my cum, yet still so hungry for more. Aren't you greedy?" His words were punctuated by a particularly deep thrust that had you seeing stars.

You tried to respond, but all that came out was a breathy whimper. Your fingers weakly clutched at his shoulders, not being able to do anything as you were drunk on his cock. Caleb chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours.

"Can't even speak, can you? That's okay, Pipsqueak. Your body tells me everything I need to know." His hand snaked between your bodies, finding your swollen clit with unerring accuracy. The touch was almost too much, your oversensitive clit throbbing under his long fingers. As Caleb continued to use his Evol to move you on his cock, his fingers worked your clit in tandem. The dual stimulation had you teetering on the edge of another orgasm, your fifteenth? Twentieth? You'd lost count hours ago.

"Come on, Pipsqueak," Caleb urged, his voice strained with his own approaching climax. "One more for me. I know you can do it. Be a good girl and come on my cock." His words, combined with the relentless stimulation, pushed you over the edge. Your vision whited out as pleasure crashed over you in waves, your body convulsing in Caleb's arms. You felt him follow you over the edge, his cock pulsing inside you, adding to the flood of cum already filling you. As you came down from your high, completely limp as you collapsed right on top of him, Caleb's Evol gently lifted you off his cock. You whimpered at the loss, feeling empty and bereft. But Caleb wasn't done with you yet.

"Shh, Pipsqueak," he soothed, his hand stroking your hair. "We're not finished. I think it's time we put that pretty mouth of yours to work, don't you?"

Your eyes widened at Caleb's words, a mixture of anticipation and exhaustion coursing through your body. Despite your fatigue, the thought of tasting him, of pleasing him further, sent a thrill down your spine. Caleb's Evol gently maneuvered you, positioning you between his legs. Your face was level with his still-hard cock, glistening with the mixture of your combined fluids. The musky scent of sex filled your nostrils, making your mouth water involuntarily.

"Open up, Pipsqueak," Caleb commanded softly, his hand tangling in your hair.

You obeyed without hesitation, your lips parting as Caleb guided his cock into your mouth. The familiar weight on your tongue, the salty-bitter taste of your mingled cum, had you moaning around him.

"That's it, Pipsqueak," Caleb groaned, his head falling back against the back of his chair. "Use that pretty little tongue of yours. Clean your Caleb up nice and good."

Your tongue swirled around his shaft, lapping up drop of cum on Caleb's cock — peppering sweet and soft kisses on his cock in between kitten-licks. Despite your exhaustion, you found yourself eagerly sucking and licking, driven by an insatiable desire to please him.

Caleb's Evol came into play once more, controlling the bobbing of your head on his cock. The pace was slow at first, allowing you to adjust, but soon picked up speed. Your eyes watered as he hit the back of your throat, but you relaxed into it, letting him use your mouth as thoroughly as he had used your pussy.

"Fuck, Pipsqueak," Caleb panted, his grip tightening in your hair. "You're so good for me. Such a perfect little cocksleeve, aren't you? First your pussy, now your mouth. I bet you'd let me use every hole if I wanted to, wouldn't you?"

You hummed in agreement around his cock, the vibrations causing Caleb to buck his hips, driving himself deeper into your throat. Tears streamed down your cheeks, but they were tears of pleasure, of overwhelming sensation.

Caleb's other hand came to rest on your cheek, his thumb wiping away a stray tear. "Look at me, Pipsqueak," he commanded softly. You raised your eyes to meet his, seeing the mixture of lust and affection in his gaze. "That's my girl. So beautiful with your lips stretched around my cock." Caleb's Evol increased the pace, fucking your mouth faster and deeper. You could feel him swelling on your tongue, and knew he was close to another release. Your own arousal built again, your neglected pussy clenching around nothing.

"Gonna cum, Pipsqueak," Caleb warned, his voice strained. "You're going to swallow it all, aren't you? Be a good girl and don't waste a drop."

Moments later, Caleb's cock pulsed in your mouth, flooding it with his cum. You swallowed eagerly, your throat working to take every drop just as he'd commanded. The taste, the feeling of him using you so thoroughly, pushed you over the edge into another unexpected orgasm — you came untouched. As the last waves of pleasure subsided, Caleb gently withdrew from your mouth. Caleb's Evol lifted you once more, moving you to in his arms as he cradling you against his chest.

"Such a good girl for me," Caleb murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "My perfect little Pipsqueak."

A/N: No beta, no proofread, just horny. I just want Caleb to come home.

MASTERLIST

[littlest-w01f]

Sensitive

Batboys x Reader

RHYSAND MASTERLIST

AZRIEL MASTERLIST

CASSIAN MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Rhysand shows you he and his closest friends aren't put off by blood

CW: Period sex, very descriptive, blood, horny young adult batboys, wingplay, shadowplay, some consensual mind control, Smut 18+ MDNI (Brought to you by horny periods, my uterus has taken control of me)

A/n: posting both together cause I'll be busy later and don't want to forget. Special mention to @shadowsingers-mate who asked to be tagged :)

The sun had set as you lay in Rhysand, your mate's cot, in the tent he shared with his friends, he would've been training all day while you were working with your mother, he had asked you to come to his tent after you were done, your stomach had been cramping in a familiar way all day, eyes going wide, Illyrian wings curling around yourself as you tense, you had managed to hide your periods for a while, well, almost two years you would cover yourself with a different scent than of your periods so no one caught on, and sometimes Rhysand would glamour you too.

You shot up, your stomach hurting from the cramps, Oh no, you thought as you moved to see blood spots in Rhysand's cot, you stood up, eyes wide in fear.

Panic flooded through you as you stared at the blood spots on Rhysand's cot, your heart racing. You knew you had to clean this up quickly before anyone noticed. But as you stood there frozen, you couldn't help but think about how you would explain this to Rhysand and the others.

You tried to look for something to clean the crimson spots with and find a washcloth, but you ended up spreading it further. As you frantically scrubbed at the stains, trying to erase evidence of your predicament, your mind raced with worry. Thinking of how you could possibly explain this to Rhysand without them thinking less of you.

Suddenly, a warm hand rested on your shoulder, causing you to jump slightly. Rhysand's piercing violet eyes locking onto yours. "What's wrong, darling?" he asked, concern etched on his handsome face, his body covered in sweat from training.

You swallowed hard, trying to find the words. "I… I started bleeding... Ruined your bed..." You stammered, gesturing to the cot behind you.

Rhysand's expression softened, his strong arms wrapping around your waist. "Shh, it's okay," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "It's just a little blood, alright? It's nothing serious."

His reassuring presence did nothing to calm your frantic heart. Rhysand's comforting embrace felt foreign against your trembling body, a stark reminder of your unspoken shame. Your mind scrambled to justify why you were feeling such dread over what seemed like a normal occurrence to everyone else.

"Let me take care of this," Rhysand murmured, guiding you back towards the cot and pushing you gently down His piercing gaze locked onto yours again, filled with a mixture of tenderness and curiosity.

"You know you're always safe with me, right? I'm not one of the males who will force your wings clipped." He murmured softly, his voice low and soothing. "No matter what happens."

"Yeah, I know... I just... Paniced." You nodded, "I know now clean you keep your things and I just... Bled all over your damn bed."

Rhysand chuckled, his warm breath tickling your ear. "Well, it's not the first time my things has seen some unexpected messes, and it won't be the last, I live with Cassian and Azriel remember." He teased, his fingers trailing along your spine in a soothing pattern.

His touch sent shivers down your body, despite the awkward situation. You felt your cheeks flush, a mix of embarrassment and arousal coursing through your veins from his gaze.

Rhysand leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your neck. "But since we're already here, and I've got you all to myself… Why don't we make the most of it?" He suggested, his voice dripping with seduction.

Just as Rhysand pushed your skirt up, exposing your cotton lingerie to him, sliding them off and throwing them somewhere behind him, the sound of wings echoed outside the tent. Cassian and Azriel landed in, their expressions a mix of surprise and amusement at the sight before them.

Cassian's eyes widened as he took in the scene, his gaze lingering on your exposed thighs and the crimson spots on your garments. "Well, well, looks like someone's having a bloody good time," he drawled, a smirk playing on his lips.

Azriel, on the other hand, looked a bit more flustered, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. However, his eyes never left your body, filled with hunger, his shadows turning and twisting as the sight. And he did manage an eye roll at Cassian's comment.

With a yelp you shut your thighs, not that it was embarrassing to have them see you and your mate in compromising positions, since you had made love while they were in the room acting as if you weren't fucking in the tent, and you'd seen them in the same positions with the random females they brought back, making you all pretty nonchalant about nudity.

Rhysand, sensing your unease, gave your thigh a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry, darlings, we're all grown here. There's no need to be shy, besides, blood doesn't make any of us squmish," he purred, spreading your legs again, his hands roaming your exposed thigh, sending tingles throughout your body.

Cassian, still smirking, stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "In fact, we could all use a good fuck after a long day of training and work."

A cough sounded from Azriel but the scent of his arousal made it quite clear he liked the idea

You felt Rhysand press into your mind shields, Are you sure? I could always tell them to fuck off, his voice rang in your head.

You nod, heart racing wildly, "I want that... I'd like that."

With a nod, Rhysand glamoured the tent to keep the sounds in, his hands travelled upwards, tracing the curves of your hips and then along your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "As you wish," he whispered huskily, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

Cassian and Azriel watched intently, their own arousal growing more evident by the second. Cassian closed the distance between you and him, his clothes gone, pressing his chest against your back, you whine as it makes contact with your wings, his hands finding their way to cup your breasts, ripping your dress off your body.

Meanwhile, Azriel approached from the side, his fingers ghosting across your exposed skin, trailing down until he reached your inner thigh, teasingly close to where you needed him most.

Azriel's finger slipped inside your slick heat, the sensation of his digit coated in your blood mixing with your arousal sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. He pumped his finger slowly, curling it to find and stroke that sensitive spot within you, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit.

Rhysand broke the kiss, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "That's it, let us take care of you." Rhysand snapped his fingers and he and Azriel's clothes disappeared. His hands found their way to your breasts, kneading and pinching your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure straight to your cunt as did the sight of their hard cocks curving into their stomach.

Cassian's mouth latched onto your neck, biting and sucking, marking you as his. His free hand slid down to join Azriel's, both of them pumping their fingers in and out of you in tandem, driving you closer to the edge.

The sensation of being surrounded by their leathery wings only heightened your arousal, their unique scents mingling together in the air around you. The combined pressure of their bodies against you, coupled with the rhythm of their fingers working in and out of you, drove you to the brink of insanity.

Rhysand's teeth grazed against your collarbone, sending an electric jolt down your spine. "You're so fucking wet for them, so messy, aren't you?" he growled, his fingers rolling your hardened nipples between them.

Azriel added another finger, stretching you deliciously, his strokes becoming more insistent. Cassian nipped at your earlobe, whispering, "Come on baby, let go."

Your entire body tensed, a cry tearing from your throat as your orgasm hit you hard, your walls clenching around Azriel and Cassian's fingers.

As your climax ripped through you, waves of intense pleasure crashing over you, you cried out, your voice echoing around the tent. Your inner walls spasmed around Azriel and Cassian's fingers, coating their digits in your thick, crimson release.

Rhysand's teasing bites on your wings only intensified the sensations, causing you to convulse under their touches. He leaned in, capturing your lips once more in a passionate kiss, swallowing your moans as your orgasm subsided.

Cassian and Azriel slowly withdrew their fingers, watching as your cunt gushed one final time, coating their hands in your essence.

The air within the small confines of the tent grew thick with lustful energy, the scent of arousal and blood filling your nostrils. Rhysand smiled, pleased with the fucked out look on your face. "Let's not waste another moment, huh?" he murmured, his hands travelling lower, grazing the edges of your soaked cunt.

"We'll take the front," Cassian said, his voice rough with desire as he bit your shoulder.

"I want her mouth," Azriel added, stepping closer, his shadowy tendrils reaching out to caress your skin, the shadows feeling you up.

With a wicked grin, Rhysand positioned himself between your spread thighs, his cock throbbing against your dripping entrance. "I think it's only fair, my love, with how hard they made you cum," he purred, pushing the tip of his cock against you, teasing you mercilessly.

Cassian moved to your side, positioning his cock at your cunt beside Rhysand's, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Hold her still, Rhys," he smirked, pressing against your hole.

Azriel's shadows wrapped around your waist, holding you steady as they bend you backwards, laying you on your side, resting your head on his thigh, so close to his cock it had you salivating.

"Hold her, how?" Rhysand chuckled, looking right into your eyes, Do you want? He asked in your head, his daemati abilities around your mind. You relaxed with a yes, letting him take control of your mind and body, forcing you still, leaving your control enough so you could moan.

With a thought, Rhysand tightened his grip on your mind, controlling your muscles to stay perfectly still. He grinned, loving the power he held over you, before guiding his cock to your entrance once again. "Like this?"

"Well, I was thinking more leather ristraints, but this works," Cassian leaned into your neck, kissing and biting your neck.

The head of Cassian's cock pressed against you, spreading your folds apart, before sinking into your warmth. A groan escaped his lips as he bottomed out, filling you completely.

At the same time, Azriel aligned his cock with your lips, his tip pressing against your mouth. "Ready for me too, princess?" Azriel taunted, knowing you couldn't move on your own accord, as Cassian gave your ass cheek a firm slap making you gasp softly.

With a nod, Rhysand made you open your mouth, tongue poking out slightly for Azriel to push his cock in, as Rhysand began thrusting into your slick cunt, each movement controlled and calculated. His hips snapped forward, burying himself deeper within you, his balls slapping against your swollen clit with every powerful thrust.

Cassian's cockhead breached your hole beside Rhysand's cock, stretching you deliciously wide with both your cocks. He paused for a moment, savouring the sensation before beginning to push in. Inch by slow inch, he filled you, until finally he was buried to the hilt within your depths.

The sensation of having two cocks inside you at once was overwhelming, your body stretched beyond what felt natural, yet the pleasure was indescribable. Rhysand continued his relentless pace, groaning, his cock pistoning in and out of your cunt, while Cassian matched his movements, driving his own cock into your cunt. When one pulled out till the head the other pushed in completely

Azriel watched, fascinated, as you took his cock into your mouth, the sight of your lips stretched around his girth enough to make him throb with need. "Fuck… so beautiful," he breathed out, his hand gently cradling the back of your head, urging you to take him deeper.

As if on cue, Rhysand and Cassian increased their pace, their bodies moving in sync with each other. The sounds of wet slaps echoed throughout the tent,

The cool touch of Azriel's shadows sent shocks of pleasure straight to your nipples. They rolled and pinched your breasts, drawing moans from your throat, which vibrated around Azriel's shaft. The shadows also found your clit, flicking and circling the sensitive bud, driving you closer to the edge.

Cassian's tongue danced across the delicate membranes of your wings, sending shivers down your spine. Rhysand and Cassian's cocks, coated in your juices and blood, slid in and out of your cunt with ease, the friction building towards an explosive climax.

Azriel's shadows continued their torment, tweaking your nipples and rubbing your clit in tight circles. The combination of sensations was too much to bear, and you felt yourself teetering on the brink of orgasm once more.

As Azriel pushed his cock further into your throat, you gagged, your eyes watering. But the sensation only spurred him on, his hips bucking forward to plunge even deeper into your mouth.

Rhysand and Cassian didn't hold back either, their thrusts becoming erratic and uncontrolled as they chased their own release. Their cocks pounded relentlessly against your inner walls, each stroke hitting spots that made stars burst in your vision.

The pressure built within you, coiling tighter and tighter like a spring ready to snap. Your body tensed, your cunt clenching around the two cocks impaling you, and then you came, screaming and choking around Azriel's cock as waves of pure bliss washed over you, slightly snapping out of Rhysand's control before he held you again.

With a roar that reverberated through the tent, Rhysand buried himself to the hilt inside you, his hot seed spurting into your womb. At the same time, soon after Cassian grunted, his cock twitching as he released his load, coating your insides with his cum.

As Rhysand and Cassian's orgasms triggered your sudden third, you clenched around them, milking every last drop from their spent cocks. Then, just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, Azriel's cock pulsed in your throat, his cum flooding your mouth.

With their releases spent, Rhysand and Cassian slowly pulled out of your dripping cunt, leaving trails of their combined fluids running down your thighs. They both panted heavily, their eyes locked onto you with a mix of satisfaction and lust.

Meanwhile, Azriel gently pulled his cock from your mouth, smirking down at you with pride. "Damn, princess… You really know how to handle us."

As the afterglow settled over you, Rhysand wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest. "I think we've broken our poor little darling," He teased, nuzzling into your neck.

Rhysand slipped out of your mind, and you sighed against his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist, "Rhys?" You gasp softly.

"Yeah, love?" He whispered with a smile as Cassian and Azriel left you alone for a moment, Cassian discarding her bloody dress, Azriel getting a new one.

You look up at him, your eyes still glazed over from the hold he had taken of your mind, "I really liked that."

"You enjoyed being our plaything?" Rhysand chuckled, his voice low and husky. He brushed a stray lock of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. "I'm glad to hear that, my sweet." He kissed you deeply, before winnowing a glass of water for you to sip from.

Breaking the kiss, he looked into your eyes, a glint of mischief twinkling in his own. "But don't worry, there's plenty more where that came from."

You nod, tired, "Sure…"

Rhysand smiled, with a wave of his hand cleaning you and the bloody mess around you, spelling you to not bleed everywhere further, "Get some sleep dear, I'll be here when you wake up."

With a content sigh, you curled up against Rhysand, feeling utterly sated and exhausted. Your eyes grew heavy, and before long, you were fast asleep, your dreams filled with erotic images of the night's events.

{General Taglist- @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot}

{Azriel Taglist- @fxckmiup @annamariereads16 @saltedcoffeescotch}

[drgnflyteabox]

the lusty cabin-dweller

pairing: ghost / Simon riley x fem reader summary: your life gets wider when you find an injured man outside of your cabin. tags/warnings: Skyrim!ghost, secrets, graphic injuries, some angst, facial injuries, nursing Simon back to health one stew at a time <3, listen to this for the vibes, vaginal + anal sex, oral (f), animal attacks, blood, processing an animal for meat and fur, violence, death (non-major), mention of Skyrim racism, softdom!Simon, some backstory, please hmu if i forgot anything, one bed trope, simon backstory adapted to skyrim lol (so past abuse, murder, theft, domstic violence) but nothing graphic w.c: 5k

Honey-nut is squealing again. Some days you think she might not be worth the milk and cheese she gives you for all the trouble she causes. A high, strange bleating cuts through the chilled night air like a knife, sharp and terrifying only for a moment.

She's been at this since Frostfall. Maybe it was the weather causing Honey-nut distress - she was getting old, after all. For a goat.

In the time it takes you to trudge out of bed, pull on a wool shift and a fur, two things happen: one, Honey-nut stops bleating, and the woods surrounding your cottage becomes deathly silent.

Two, a crunch.

Just one, but it's enough. Someone is outside.

For a brief, hysterical moment, you worry for Honey-nuts safety. Have they hurt her to be quiet? No, you'd have heard that at least. Your breath comes fast, chest squeezing. Bandits? Probably not. It's a decent hike up to your wooden cottage. But it is nearing winter, and soon it will be Sun's Dusk. It's not unheard of that they'd be looking for a place to take over for the colder months.

Your hand goes to your heart, fingertips touching your throat. Be calm, you tell yourself. You aren't helpless, look. The axe, leaning by your front door. You can see in the dark well enough, and you're more familiar with your homestead than they are.

The axe feels right in your hands. Too-familiar, weighty, deadly. You touch your ear to the door, trying to reign in your fear. Nothing. Then, a wheeze, strangled and restrained like whoever it is can't afford to be heard. But you have heard it, and you push the door open.

"Show yourself!" You shout, voice surer than you feel. Your knees quake a little, but your grip on the axe is strong.

The animal pen is a mere few steps away from your front door. Past the front garden, it's wide open aside from the little shelter you built the past Mid Year. A foot sticks out, clad in armor.

"I'm armed," you add. "You're not getting anything from me!" The world is dark, the woods quiet. Adrenaline burns in you, bright enough to guide your steps.

"You gonna kill me with that, girl?"

Gruff voice, like scraping rocks. Coming into view, you see that this man poses no threat. He's half dead, slumped and pale, clutching his side.

"Who are you? What's your business here?" The axe is a deterrent, now. Just for show. You hold it above him, but nearly drop it when you see his face. It's sliced right through the middle, from his forehead to his jaw. "Oh, gods-"

"Mind yourself with that," his eyes flit to the axe. "Or put me out of my misery now."

Your shoulders dip down, lowering your weapon. Guilt crawls into your belly and settles there when you notice that yes- his feet are armored, but the rest of him is dressed in miners attire. White, coal-dusted shirt. Workman's pants, tucked into woolen calf wraps. God, he must be freezing. Maybe that's saved his life, staunched the bloodflow. It's tacky on him, not shining wet like you expected.

"What's happened to you?" You cringe at the sound of your voice. It's gone from fierce defensiveness to cloying concern, staring only at the blood staining his skin.

He breathes hard, staring at you a moment. It's hard to tell what he's thinking, what he's feeling. Outside of obvious pain. Leaves around you shiver in the breeze, a light snow beginning to fall when he finally speaks.

"Bandits," he grunts. "An ambush." Every word is a fight, a wheeze. Empathy drives away caution and you drop your weapon in favour of kneeling beside him.

"Come on, then. Let me help you," lifting him is a monumental task, even with him helping. He's as big as horse, thick as one too. Legs like tree trucks that hold him up just barely, feet sliding weakly on the uneven ground.

Looking back, Honey-nut watches you bring him through the doorway with a judgmental twinkle in her eye. Maybe it's time for goatherd pie.

///

Your bed is too small. His feet hang off comically, and the wood creaks under his weight. It'll have to do. Your mother would have beaten you black and blue for this - for inviting a stranger in, for settling him in your bed without so much as a what’s your name? But you know how to stitch and turning away someone in as bad a shape as he is would weigh on your conscience.

You light the sconces along the wall, and then a lantern to keep by his bedside. Warm, orange light fills the cottage, flickering every so often, inspiring calm.

"I'm no healer," you warn him. "Nor an alchemist." It’s not necessarily a lie. You had done a brief stint as a volunteer for the temple of Kynareth, lending your hands and your time to help nurse wounded soldiers. There had been supervision then, though. Guidance.

"I’m shit out of luck for choices, sweetheart,” his facial wound leaks a little when he speaks, blood running down the side of his face in thin rivulets. The wound at his side, however, is what worries you the most.

“Let me,” you murmur. Your fingers find the edge of his shirt, pulling them out of his pants, and up, up, gently. Looking him in the eye, watching his pain win over his weariness.

Another gash, swaddled in cloth wrapped sloppily around his middle. Without moving him you have to cut them off, slicing off his shirt at the same time. This one bleeds sluggishly, skin shredded, like he’d been dragged over coarse rock.

He words slur, energy leaving him. Mumbles under his breath things you can’t make out, and don’t try to. You’re busy rinsing, cleaning, and patting his ribs dry. Tensing every so often, he breathes hard through his nose to offset the pain. Mumbles some more, hands making fists.

It’s bad, but he’ll live. Exhaustion might trump over all, anyhow, what with how his eyelids have begun closing. Through the slit of them his eyes are pale, like sunlight through deep blue ice. Blonde lashes, stark against the dirt and coal smearing his skin.

You work in silence, letting him sleep through this one so he’ll hopefully be unconscious for the work you have yet to do on his face.

“Who did this?” You whisper to no one. You’re a breeze in the night, alone, hunched over this man and wiping his face with a cloth.

Clear of blood and grime, you gather a sewing needle and dip it into the lantern flame. Stitching is easy, but on his face? You falter a moment, worried, until you think of how proud men often are of their scars. Boasting battles won and creatures slain.

It’s that thought that pushes you through to the end, weaving the needle through until he's sewn and clean of blood.

///

Sweat and iron. The smell of it, sharp and salty, sea foam and earth, is the first thing you're aware of.

Then, the light of morning. Pale, almost white, invading through the windows in rays. A chill. Your eyes open with a not insignificant amount of effort, back twinging in different places as you become aware of the world again.

"Awake?" You startle, jerking up. It's the man from the night before, laying as he was, a little curled against the pain and big as an ox. "W's startin' t'think you'd sleep all day."

"It's morning, is it not?" You're not used to talking this early - or at all. "How's the- how are you feeling?"

He grunts, shuffling. His wrapped side has some blood peeking through, little spots of leakage, not enough to lose your head over. His face has swelled some overnight though, and you're awake enough now to hear the muffled quality to his voice. Part of the cut pulls his upper lip tightly. You wince.

"Just wait. I have something for the," you pause, crossing your space on stiff legs to find the bookshelf. Clay pots, glass bottles, books. Ah, here it is. "For the pain." It's some elixir. Purchased the last time you'd made the trek to Markarth from Muiri, the alchemists apprentice. It brings forth a distant memory of pain, of twisting your ankle running after Honey-nut.

Your ankle hadn't quite healed right, but this was good for when winter came and stiffness made the pain worse again.

He eyes you wearily as you approach. Suspiciously. As if you haven't been helping him out of the kindness of your heart…

"This will help," a promise.

"Don't need'it." He slurs, then cringes as it pulls his lip again.

"You'll recover faster if you're in less pain."

In the end he acquiesces, if not just to take the edge of the purpling that's beginning to show on the edges of his bandage. Broken ribs, maybe?

///

Chores need to be done whether or not there's an obstinate patient in your bed. Honey-nut needs to be milked, and she fights you every step of the way. You discover her pen open from last night and sigh with relief that she's still there.

The chickens have laid eggs for you, and you collect them diligently in your apron. Then, the garden. And finally a sweep of your traps in the woods.

Just one rabbit, but it's enough. You hope the man likes stew, and that his swelling goes down enough for him to tell you his name.

///

He tells you his name is Ghost. Strange, but you've heard stranger. Maybe he's a follower of Namira, you wonder not without an inkling of apprehension. Ghost is quiet, even as he heals. After you'd made yourself a straw bed on the other side of the cabin, you'd wake to him sitting up and stretching. Testing himself. Always silent.

The exhaustion was the worst of it. One nearly empty bottle of elixir later, the swelling on his face has gone down significantly. His ribs sore but on the mend. It was sleep that he needed, and lots of it.

Days passed like this. Switching bandages, wiping and cleaning, cooking enough stew for two. Nearly a week until he was up and about insisting to help around the cottage.

"No need," you tried to gently push him back into the warmth of the open door. He was too big, and having none of it. "You'll be better in no time."

He was just so tall. Were he to stand still at your doorway, half his face would be covered by the top of it. Despite his condition, you could tell that your initial comparison to a horse was completely on the nose. Stocky as a boar, arms thick as mammoth tusks. Hairy like blonde wheat shining in the sun. You'd noticed as much, watching him rest, watching his eyelashes flutter on his cheeks as he dreamt.

///

Ghost works like you're paying him in gold. He sweats, arms swinging down over and over again above the chopping block. There's enough wood to last three winters now - maybe four. Every job he takes is finished to excess. Your roof has never looked better, re-thatched in rotting places and swept clear of mildew. The old wood fence in your garden? Replaced.

Honey-nut finds her new favourite person when he dismantles what he calls shoddy work, and rebuilds her a shelter twice as big. The chickens are still weary, but enjoy receiving the kitchen scraps he tosses.

"There's really no need for all this," you insist again, because he's come back this afternoon with an elk on his back.

"Didn't need to fix me up, either, did'ya?"

You break it down together. Ghost does the harder part, while you take cuts of meat to dry for jerky. The rest will go into a venison casserole, with juniper berries.

"Hey- Ghost?" You call. He's skinning the rest of it for furs. "I'm off to gather some berries for dinner."

A nod, and you're off.

Your basket is old, woven, carried once by your mother and now you. Silly, but special all the same. It's stained with many years of berry collecting, many years of winter nights spent tucking into fruity crostatas or summers full of juniper mead.

The hills are rife with the low, rough trees. They grow like weeds here in the Reach, mountain pocked with patches of light green and little blue berries. Once, as a child, you'd made the mistake of eating one straight off the branch. Bitter as burnt coffee, it was lesson you'd learned through tears of laughter with your mother. A happy memory.

Does Ghost have a family? You wonder again about him, about why a man like that is wasting his time mining. He could've climbed the ranks as an imperial and been a General or - divines forbid - a stormcloak. You prayed he wasn't so craven as to follow Ulfric and his band of Nord supremacists.

It's this distraction that leads you right into the waiting jaws of a sabre cat. Quick and silent, it reminds you of your patient for an absurd moment before you're tripping backwards, basket full of berries scattered and forgotten. Your hip makes contact with the ground hard, pain lancing through your joint like a spear.

Fuck, how could you be so stupid? This was a mountain, leagues away from the nearest town. Sabres, bears, wolves. You'd always, always used awareness as a first precaution. Sight, sounds, keeping your ears tuned to the slightest crack in a twig. If not, there was the bow and arrow stowed away under your bed.

Now, you were caught unawares. Muscles under it's fur rippled, a low growl in it's barrel chest, creeping toward you. Adrenaline burned through you like a fever, hot and electric all at once, freezing you in place by the weight of your heart in your stomach.

Stendarr's mercy, dying from an animal attack after living years on the craggy peaks of the mountains, avoiding ambushes and robberies. Living on goats cheese and chicken eggs, nothing yet achieved. What a waste. Miserable, hopeless tears prick at your eyes. Your breath leaves you in quick, desperate puffs. Running wasn't an option - it would only encourage the sabre. Sovngarde, here you come-

"Aaarghgh aaaaa!" A roar. Loud, ringing in your ears, as fierce as a cave bear. It's Ghost, jumping through the brush towards you with his arms above his head. "Bugger off!" He's screaming loud, voice cracking a little, the stitches at his lip tearing just enough for droplets of blood to fall.

"I'll put you down!" It's nonsense, but it's loud, and he's massive. Taller than the sabre even if it stood on two legs. When he reaches you, he steps in front of you. Shields you.

The face-off is likely less than a few minutes, but it feels like time moves as slow as honey. Ghost faces of the sabre, screaming like a madman, beating his chest and waving his arms. It creeps backward, hissing and fighting, but is cowed by his stance and size.

When it's disappeared through the maze of juniper trees, he turns to you. Extends a palm rough like bark.

"How long have you lived here, again?" His voice grates as usual, made worse by his shouting.

Your face heats in embarrassment. "A few years. I'm not usually so distracted," you dust your dress, patting yourself. Twigs and dirt fall from the wool. "I swear. I got lost picking berries."

He snorts, like you're stupid. You feel stupid.

The basket is half empty when you call it quits, tired from fear. Ghost is hunched beside you, holding his ribs again, rubbing his lip almost compulsively.

"Stop that, you'll get a thicker scar," you reach for his elbow.

"Don't care much about that, love," he shrugs your hand away.

Dinner is made in silence. It's a miracle you have the energy, but while you're physically drained your mind is running in circles. You watch with concern as he sits gingerly back on the bed. The pain in your hip pulses with sympathy, pulsing heat travelling down your leg and up your back.

"Need me to take a look at anything?" Besides his obvious discomfort, you'll have to fix his face back up. You'd prefer for him to be in a welcoming mood.

"I can handle it," Mr Stoic over here. "Did'ya take a fall?"

You drop dried frost mirriam into chopped, boiled potatoes. Then a pad of butter.

"Yes, but I'm alright," the cream sauce comes together, ladled over the venison. You're out of eidar cheese, but Honey-nuts goat cheese crumbled over everything is perfectly fine. Ghost eats like a furnace taking coal, anyhow.

"Let me see," he's up close. Again, you've been taken unawares. A sharp inhale like a gasp, heart beat picking up, breathing in the smell of him. It's gone from bloody to pine, to earth, to fresh wood. His hands find your hip and you hiss, trying to jerk away. In doing so you press your side into his chest, curled close, warm not just from the fire. "It's alright, sweet girl." He murmurs into the top of your head.

This tenderness is new. His fingers are as gentle as you've seen them in the last few weeks, pulling up the thick skirts of your dress and assessing the tender skin. It's a little hot to the touch, painful. The rough pad of his thumb brushes against you softly, making you whine.

His lips brush your hair, not quite kissing you, but affectionate nonetheless. You're close enough to see his throat bob when he swallows.

"Just a bump, huh, sweet girl?" He takes over, mashing the potatoes, setting out plates at your little wooden table, guiding you by your lower back.

You eat in relative silence, thighs brushing, a tension bubbling to the surface like stew on the fire. He spares you a few glances between bites, still wincing whenever he has to bend down.

"I'll take a look at that again before bed," you speak through a mouthful of creamy venison.

Sure enough, he's reopened some of his stitches. Not worst case scenario, but you spend a few minutes hunched over and bandaging him up again. He stares at you intently, eyes so clear and focused you wish he wouldn't. It makes your hand shake.

Moving to get up and back to your straw bed, his arm shoots out as quick as an arrow and takes your wrist in his hand. His stare is the same, squinting at you like he's waiting for you to confess something. Like he's waiting for you to give in.

"You're not sleeping on the floor," he says, sure, chest puffed. "Not with your hip. Come on now, come lay down." Gently, he tugs you down. Protests make it to the tip of your tongue and nowhere else, not with the promise of a mattress on your sore muscles and screaming hip.

It's too small though, much too small. Already he was hanging off, shoulders taking up the entire width. You curl forward, on your good side, facing away from him and into the dark. The cabin is still warm from cooking dinner.

His breath puffs on the back of your neck, hand finding your arm and stroking up and down. Soothing you. He curls around you, following the natural bend of your body.

"Simon," he whispers.

Your brow almost touches your hairline. "That's not my name."

"No," his reply is half spoken, half physical. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, bicep under you, cradling you, his big bear paw hugging your shoulder. A stray pinky ventures dangerously close to your nipple, fingers spread. "It's mine."

The world widens. "Yours?" You breathe in, out. It's trust, is what it is. He's giving you a piece of himself, this stranger, for you to hold. "Simon," you taste it in your mouth. "Simon."

He laughs against your hair. "Was watching you," he confesses. "After we got- after the ambush. Walked for days, till I found you."

"How long did you watch?" You're curious, if not a little suspicious. "You weren't casing it, were you?"

"No, nothing like that. Couldn't keep walking," he sighs loud like a dog. "Hadn't eaten, hadn't drank. Needed to know if you were somewhere I could stay."

"That's why Honey-nut was losing her mind," the realization is half funny, half scary. By the eight, you really hadn't noticed someone living so close-by for so long?

"Honey-nut?"

"You've met her, Simon. She's the goat."

"Ah," he snorts. "I've been calling her Molag-Bal, for how she's got us in the palm of her hand."

"Simon!" You shriek with laughter, shaking until he squeezes you from behind. So close his heartbeat taps against your back.

///

A week goes by, and each night is the same. You wake together, sleep together, eat together. Simon regains his strength and his wounds turn into scars. His face is deeply marked, but you've never known him another way. Truthfully, it adds to his handsomeness. There's a ruggedness there that one can only develop living in the rough.

The air gets colder, frigid in the mornings and nights. Light snows have begun falling, and Honey-nut begins her bleating until you put up the winter wall of her shelter, boxing her in. The chickens slowly cease laying eggs, bundling together, clucking at Simon when he checks for the seasons last bounty.

The time to make a trek to Markarth is creeping. You need dried goods, grain, seeds for spring, dried meats, elixirs - everything. It'll be your last trip before you're stuck in the freezing mountains with nobody but Honey-nut to talk to.

Books are your salvation during the cold months.

"I have to get supplies soon," you break the news to Simon early in the morning, when the light just barely creeps over the craggy peaks of the mountains. "In Markarth."

There. It's over with - telling him. You know you're being a coward by not asking directly, but you need to know. What is he going to do now that he's healed? Spend a few more months with you? You're still mostly strangers, practicing domesticity together, but strangers nonetheless.

"Can't go to Markarth," he says.

"Why's that?"

Simon looks at you then, eyes hard and tender at the same time. He grimaces a little, scar twisting wit his expression.

"Used to work there," A pause. "Used to… mine there."

"What?" Cidhna mine is for prisoners. You take a small step back, shaking your head. "What?" You repeat. Cidhna mine? Is that how- oh. His injuries, his waiting to see who you were before approaching. By the gods, you've been tricked!

"You tricked me-" you start, upset. Was he a killer, a robber? Images dredged from the recesses of your mind float to the surface. Men, fire, your mother cut down before you.

"No, no," he interrupts. He's shaking his head, not quite stepping forward but leaning toward you. Eyebrows drawn up, palms facing you in supplication. "Sweet girl, I," he looks around then, as if the words will appear written in smoke from the hearthfire. "Listen to me please," he pleads.

"Tell me what you did!" It's a near-shout, but you're upset. He's been cozying up to you while running from the law. Not that you're a total stickler for rules, but the men at Cidhna mine aren't there without reason.

The most secure prison in Skyrim.

"I will, I'll tell you. Just sit down please, sit with me." He pats a chair, sitting in the one beside it. Beseeching you. "Cm'ere, sweet girl. M'sorry."

///

You sit quietly while he tells you, choking a little on the rising tide of emotions. The biggest question is should you believe him? This story of his past, his father, a childhood spent learning to steal and bully to survive. Elixirs for a brother hooked on skooma, food for a mother grown sickly from her husbands abuse. Eventually getting rid of his father altogether, and wining up in Cidhna.

"If what you say is true," your voice wavers, throat tight with emotion. "Why not tell me?"

He shrugs his shoulders, looking up for a moment as if asking the divines for guidance.

"You never asked."

For a moment, you want to be indignant. You laid with him, cooked for him, wiped blood and sweat off his brow.

But he's right. You never asked, never thought to - just wondered, minded your business, content to help someone in need of it. The feeling of betrayal loosens in your chest, releasing it's vice grip on your heart, a calmer acceptance taking place.

The position it leaves you in is awkward, even if you're content to believe him. You've been too yielding since you met him. Accepted him into your home, accepted his story. Ambushed by bandits? A silly lie, now that you think of it. Vague, believable. Easier than explaining that guards had slashed him as he escaped imprisonment. That he couldn't go back because he was so recognizable.

You don't speak as you get ready. It's not an angry silence, but one brought by embarrassment. How stupid he must think you are, cozying up up to him like that.

The question of where he'll go burns still in your mind, in your gut. You're nervous, fingers shaking a little as you wrap long strips of warm wool on your calves, forearms, and between your fingers. Your dress is double-layered, boots sturdy.

It's a trip and half, lugging everything. You're on foot until you reach the nearest inn, and from there you rent a horse and cargo carriage. Easier from there, with Jazbay the white mare to pull you along.

"I know someone in Cidhna," Simon interrupts your thoughts. He's always tall, imposing, a little intimidating. Now he looks as sheepish as a man like him can look. "Could you…" He extends his hand, a letter clasped in it.

You grimace, but nod curtly.

"Thank you, honey," he breathes a sigh of relief. Honey. That ones new. It fills you with warmth.

"You're welcome to stay with me," you blurt. Impulsive, stupid. Brought on by the familiarity of his affection. "For the winter, I mean."

He's across the cabin in two steps. He presses his front to yours, hands cupping your cheeks, thumbs gently rubbing your cheekbones.

He kisses you, then, and everything slides into place. Your stomach tightens, hands coming up to grasp his shoulders, gasping into his mouth. It's wet, lips smacking noisily, the only sound in the near-frozen forest. Acceptance, sweet and buttery. This is a man whose never had a home.

"I can't stall any longer-" you try. He interrupts you with his mouth again, long kisses like it's reviving him, revitalizing him. "I gotta-"

"Shh, sweetheart," he hums lowly. Gods, you've never been this wet. It soaks into your cotton underwear, clit pulsing in time with your heart. "Let me take care of you, yeah?"

///

He's so solid, firm muscle and hard cock. It leaks between his legs, bobbing with his abdomen where he's kneeled on the floor, face in your cunt.

"Simon!" You're shouting, unabashed. Years have passed since anyone's touched you last, and you're sensitive as a maid, gripping his too-long hair almost meanly. Simon licks you like a starving man, slurping, letting you drip and then sucking it off your skin. His fingers find the entrance of your pussy, fitting himself in two at a time.

Once you've begun, you can't stop. He fucks you on the bed, letting it creak dangerously. Bends you over the table, cock dragging in and out of you deliciously. You shake and shiver in his arms, wrung out and insatiable all at once.

"Can I have you here, sweet girl?" He thumbs at your other hole, dipping in, kissing your inner thighs.

"Yes, gods yes, Simon," you drag his name out. Si-i-mon. It sounds good that way, breathy, not spoken but moaned and screamed. It's late evening, dark, colder now that you haven't lit the fire.

No need, when his cock is as hot as coals and slides between your arsecheeks like a divining rod. Your pussy is aching and hot, too-sensitive. You're belly down on the bed again, hands gripped in the sheets.

When you deliberately relax your muscles, he fits his fingers in your ass using come as lubricant. Spits down onto you, watches you start to rub yourself into the bedding desperately.

"None of that," he pants, pulling you up by your hips. A whine builds in your throat, which he shushes by pushing his other two fingers in your cunt. You yelp, moving toward him and away from him. He keeps you still, firmly holding your hips.

You come, tears beginning to leak into your sheets, when he presses his cock against the notch of your hole and pushes in.

A long, deep groan from the pit of his stomach starts and doesn't stop until he's sheathed. You're frozen, stuck in a gasp that doesn't end, filled to the brim.

Simon begins to rock, shallowly, stealing your breath and breathing it back into you with every thrust. It's then that you begin to make sound, crying out and fisting the sheets, rocking your hips with him. He reaches around, leaning down to kiss your shoulders and play with your clit at the same time.

"Not gonna last," he says into your skin. "Gonna come inside you again."

You're easy - so sensitive that if he breathed on you long enough you're sure you'd peak. His fingers twisting and pinching your clit is pure madness, and you tighten like a vice around him as you yowl your last orgasm of the night.

His hips snap into yours roughly, abandoning your clit for the flesh of your hips, pounding, dragging, grunting into you as he finds his own release.

Half-asleep, you fell him roll over onto his side and turn your head to face him. He's smiling lazily, stroking your skin, still sweating from exertion.

"I'll come with you tomorrow," he whispers.

"I thought you couldn't come to Markarth?" Confusion prickles at you, brows coming together. He finds the furrow with his thumb and smooths it away.

"I can't, honey. But I can come down and wait for you."

"You will?" Hope rises in you, in tandem with affection.

"Always," his voice is a soft murmur.

"Tomorrow, then."

"Tomorrow. Goodnight, sweet girl."

<3

[moongothic]

Crocodad AU where immidiately after having left Dragon and his baby boy Crocodile finds an 11 year old Robin. And while he's 100% only recruiting her so they can make a beeline for the Poneglyph and Pluton in Alabasta by the two of them... Crocodile accidentally sorta kinda adopts Robin.

At this point Robin's been running for her life from the Government for three years so her deep trust issues and fear of betrayal are starting to take root in her little heart. Like perhaps they haven't taken fully over yet, and being still a child I'm sure Robin might've still had that genuine hope that she could find a safe place to stay in. But I'm sure the though of "what'll he'll do with me once he gets what he wants?" would be nagging at her at the back of her mind. Meanwhile Crocodile's struggling between the pain and hurt he's already gone through and given him his trademark trust issues, as well as the aftermath of The Dragodile Divorce. But he also has his Fresh Paternal Instincts and probably misses his baby. So when given a small, scared child who is running for her life, being chased by the very same Government that'll want his son dead if they ever find out about him... Yeah that might fuck with your brain a little

You know this post was supposed to be just that first paragraph and just a few footnotes from the following two paragraphs. And then I kept on Having Thoughts. And I kept on writing them down. And oh no what happened when did this post get so long (Look I was going to either kept on writing my Additional Thoughts in the tags or I just put them in the actual fucking post)

Like considder this: based on this one SBS, we can kinda tell that if Crocodile was given a chance to raise a child, that child would be a spoiled little shit, right

So in this scenario, where Crocodile's looking after lil Robin, would he be kind of torn? Unsure how to feel about her?

Because on one hand, this strange child would have the potential to not only ruin his plans, strip him of his Shichibukai Privileges by outing him and his plans to the World Government, but also put his son in grave danger by extension (if she found out about him having been involved with the Revolutionaries and/or having a child). But on the other hand, his paternal instincts could make him want to spoil this poor little girl rotten. But only because he needs to (perhaps literally) buy her trust so she'll behave. No other reason, he doesn't feel sorry for her one bit, no sirree. (But maybe he did feel sorry for her, since his son could very well end up exactly like her. Poor little thing) (Which is why he needs to nuke Marijoa out of orbit as soon as possible, no matter the cost, and this child can't get in the way of Crocodile protecting his son) (But also this is a child. Like how bad could she be. Besides all he really needs to do to win her trust is be nice and make her feel safe, right?)

Of course, while I'm suggesting Crocodile could have some parental instincts, realistically, he hasn't actually spent any time being, you know, a father to a child (looking after his newborn for an unknown though short amount of time aside), so it's possible he wouldn't even know how to parent Robin even if he wanted to, would he? (Like taking care of a newborn and an 11 year old kid aren't the same either) So if he was kind of just emotionally flipflopping between No Trusting Ever and It's Just A Kid for God's Sake, Crocodile trying to be nice to Robin to make her feel safe and then telling himself to stop being so soft and vunerable... Yeah that would make for an absolute mess of a relationship. (Not to mention, let's be real, dude's a scary motherfucker too, and a bloody giant compared to itty bitty baby Robin. He could keep on accidentally scaring the shit out of Robin (who would be On Fucking Edge To Begin With) by just Being Himself. Like for example, can you fucking imagine if he caught Robin trying to cheer herself up with a little "dereshishishi" only to tell her to stop because "it was stupid"? 'Cause I can imagine him doing that, and boy howdy would that make Robin feel bad)

Or who knows, maybe Crocodile was just Born To Be A Dad, maybe he just Fucking Gets It. Like Crocodile is canonically pretty good at manipulating people to do what he wants them to do (see: how he played Vivi like a fiddle), so knowing Robin's position and understanding how she feels, maybe he COULD completely nail how she needed to be treated. Not being too familiar but still making her feel safe and happy, knowing exactly when to be stern and when to spoil her, etc. Dude just goes off and wins the Dad of the Year Award while being a deadbeat dad himself. The only thing Crocodile would have to worry about then would be making sure HE doesn't get too fond of her. And certainly that could never happen, he's so in-touch with his own feelings and so grounded, he's not a softie, get outta here. Or maybe he does but never realizes until it's too late and good luck backpedalling on those emotions now dumbass

Alright so, the reason I went on that whole rmble is just that like. I'm so interested in the relationship Robin and Crocodile already have in canon. I'm so facinated and curious about how the two feel about each other, considdering they did spend 4 whole years of their lives together as criminal business partners, though neither ever trusted the other. A partnership that was only ended because Robin betrayed Crocodile, out of her own trauma. (God, I want to see these two "reunite" so bad, I want to know how they feel about each other now after the timeskip and Robin joining the idiot in flipflops who foiled Croc's plans)

My question here is just that... if they had met 13 years earlier, would things have been different? Especially if Crocodad Real? Because as I mentioned in the begining, Robin would've been on the run for only 3 years by this point, as opposed to 16 years before running into Crocodile. Simultaneously, this would be before Crocodile went onto spend an entire decade all alone, slowly losing his marbles in his emotional solitude. They'd both be emotionally traumatized, yes, but would it have been as bad in this scenario? Like I did start this post kind of joking about Crocodile adopting Robin, and for clarity's sake I don't think they'd have like a father-daughter relationship nececarily. But it would be a strange relationship still, because we'd have two broken people, both struggling to trust anyone. One who had lost her mother and her only friends, leaving her all alone and afraid while running for her life. The other a father who had just given up his son whom he probably missed dearly. Both having these holes in their hearts from loss of family, holes that could not be filled with replacements. But could they find comfort in each other anyway, because they still as people occupy similar roles to their respective loved ones? If they both could just get over those trust issues?

Okay I've been going off on the Emotional Side Of Things for this AU Concept, THERE'S PLOT TOO

So if Crocodile did pick Robin up like 19 years ago, that should be before he set up base in Alabasta, long before he had built is homebase and financial empire etc.

Now the thing is, while we don't know when, where and how Crocodile learned about the Ancient Weapons, Pluton specifically and how the lead on it would be in Alabasta... Considdering Crocodile did once upon a time aim to become Pirate King, it would make perfect sense if he had learned about Poneglyphs during his past adventures, as he would have needed to get the Road Poneglyphs to find One Piece. And while the World Government did bury the truth about why Ohara had been burned down and why Robin had been given her bounty (remember, the WG claimed it was because she had sunken a fleet of battleships, which she had not, it was because she could read the Poneglyphs), considdering this is a Crocodad AU specifically, you could totally make an argument Crocodile could've learned about what actually happened to Ohara from Dragon and co. So, just to make this AU work, you could just assume Crocodile learned about the concept of the Ancient Weapons from Dragon. And who knows, maybe he overheard the truth about why Robin had been given her bounty from Dragon too (maybe Dragon was able to get intel from Garp in secret) or while going to Marijoa himself to attend a Shichibukai meeting or something IDK.

Maybe he learned about Pluton being in Alabasta before finding Robin by accident, and maybe they made a beeline for Alabasta the second Croc recruited Robin. Travelling takes time and the guy would've most likely had to find an Eternal Pose to Alabasta just to get there (also canonically Robin didn't enter the Grand Line until her 20s so they should've met in West Blue probably, since that's where Ohara was) Or maybe Crocodile had to haul Robin around for a few months while looking for That Missing Piece of Information that would lead him to Alabasta. (Imagine the two travelling from like island to island, library to library, Crocodile trying to find that leads while Robin's just so excited about ALL THESE BOOKS (she's helping too with the research) (but to her, research is playtime, so she's just having the time of her life) (Also, notice how Crocodile's Theoretical Child is a fucking loser ass nerd? Yeah Crocodile would encourage Robin reading and studying, surely. And that would be fucking cute))

But like, once they set sail to Alabasta...

Sure, Crocodile could try to do it The Slow Way that we know he tried in canon, building trust and creating his little empire etc. But also, in canon, Crocodile couldn't have jumped into action head first because without Robin, even if he had found the Poneglyph he couldn't have read it and found the location of Pluton. Crocodile choosing to do it the slow way may have been partially because he didn't have much of a choise and it could've felt like the smarter move long-term.

But in this scenario, he already has Robin. Yes, he could do it the slow, secure way.

But what'd be there stopping him from infiltrating Cobra's palace and kidnapping him (in the night, when nobody suspects a thing), demanding Cobra to spill the beans lest Crocodile kills him and/or his pregnant wife* (*Vivi was born 10 months after Luffy so depending on how long it's been between Crocodad leaving Luffy behind and this scenario... Yeah either the wife is there, still pregnant, or there's a newborn Baby Vivi)

Like it'd be a risky move but depending on how ballsy Croc's feeling and how confident he feels in being able to kidnap the king without being noticed... Yeah he could probably do it. And I'm sure he'd have no problem killing Cobra either, if anything it'd be required if he didn't want the Government to find out he was out to find Pluton, and god knows Cobra would tell on Crocodile if left alive. I could see Crocodad being maybe a little iffy about killing Baby Vivi though (it's not like the newborn baby could report him to the WG anyways), but if nothing else, he just needs to be able to pull off the bluff of his life to convince Cobra to do as he's told. And we all know Crocodile's good at convincing people.

The only question is, how would Robin take that?

Watching Crocodile go into Full Murder Mode, hearing him say he'd kill a pregnant woman/a newborn baby if he didn't get what he wanted? Like yeah, I'm sure 11 year old Robin would be fine with that, that wouldn't make any alarm bells go off in her head at all, it'd be fiiiine. IT WOULD NOT BE FINE, SHE'D BE SCARED SHITLESS. That fear of "what will he do with me when he gets what he wants"? Well, Robin may not have found the answer to that question in particular, but she certainly found the answer to the opposite question, and it's not good

So say Cobra, kidnapped (perhaps with Baby Vivi) by Crocodile in the night, guides the two to the Poneglyph under the tombs. Crocodile puts Cobra out of his misery because he's not needed anymore. And he asks Robin to read the Poneglyph for him.

Robin, who has spent the last little while, be it weeks or months with Crocodile, him having become her "guardian", the thing keeping her safe. Crocodile, who has now shown how cold blooded and cruel he can be. Robin, who might be scared out of her mind. Of him.

And the Poneglyph says Pluton, the thing Crocodile wants, isn't there. It's in Wano.

What's she going to do?

EDIT: I wrote a sequel post, enjoy

[saekkas]

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔

summary: michael kaiser is a coward who needs a little incentive to finally confess his feelings towards you.

tags: f!reader, roommates to lovers, fluff, falling in love, kissing (more like, making out), jealousy, mutual pinning, possessive kaiser.

wc: 1.7k

notes: i do not know what possessed me into writing this, but man, it needs to do it again.

something you've realized early on in your friendship with kaiser is that he's a coward.

he hates spiders, makes you throw the trash out at night, and screams whenever something falls out of its place because he thinks the apartment is haunted.

in the year that you've spent as his roommate, you've come to terms with it. he's nice, cleans his dishes, and helps with the laundry. he keeps the noise down to a minimum and cooks you breakfast when he isn't preoccupied with practice.

another perk of living with him is the fact that he buys you things, expensive things. perfume. flowers. the dress you were eyeing online. your favorite snacks. a limited edition plushy you've been wanting since forever.

anything.

you realized early on that michael kaiser is rude to other people, scoffing and smirking as if he's above everyone else. he mutters comments about them under his breath, thinking you can't hear. he bosses people around, looking at them like they're ants. a waste of his time.

he isn't like that with you.

for one, he's sweet. if the gift giving isn't enough, he goes out of his way to seek you out after his matches. he asks for massages, for small pecks and fleeting touches. he video calls you when he's away, never forgetting to wish you a good morning and sweet dreams through voice notes. all with a grin on his lips.

you aren't blind. you know those are his ways of expressing affection. you just wish he'd finally man up and admit his feelings.

"so, how was the date?"

kaiser's sitting on the couch of your living room, remote control in hand as he stares at the tv, some random soccer match showing across the screen. his hair is wet, and he's got his glasses on. his posture is relaxed, seemingly nonchalant as he asks the question.

you know him enough to see him gritting his teeth even through his bored expression.

"good evening to you too," you laugh, airy as you take off your heels. putting them next to the door, you drop your keys in the sage bowl, letting them clink against his. "have dinner yet?"

leaning against the door, you can see the fine lines of his shoulder tense. the kaiser you're used to is a show pony, the person sitting on your couch isn't. he almost looks like a stranger with his neutral expression and bored eyes. such a difference to the guy who usually comes running whenever you walk through the entrance.

"i ordered takeout." he motions to the plates littered around him, pointing at the fridge. "i saved you some of your favorites."

internally, you flutter. happy to know that the kaiser you know, and love, isn't completely gone.

"thank you, that's very sweet of you."

he's adamant on keeping his eyes off you and on the screen, his shoulders becoming even more tense as you open your arms wide.

"no hug for today?" there's a hopeful smile on your lips as you say the words. happy to finally have everything the way they should be.

only to be shut down with a single side eye from him.

"what?" he asks lowly, almost conceding in his words. almost like your presence bothers him, like all those other people do. like you aren't special to him anymore. "did your date dump you? and now you're looking to me for comfort?"

the words are icy, and he gives no room for rebuttals. not when he looks at you with a quirked eyebrow and a cocky smirk.

it's the first time he's used his persona on you. one he uses to hide away from the world. you decide that you hate it.

"no. actually, he was sweet," you bite back, glaring when you decide that enough is enough. "asked to hold my hand and carry me on his back."

you watch as his face darkens, his eyes clouding over until you can't recognize the pretty blue color they usually spark in. you're riling him up, making him angry. and it's working.

"why? jealous?"

it's the question you've been dying to ask for months now. he flirts like you're more than friends, buys you gifts like you're something special to him, shuts down every time you go on a date with someone that isn't him.

but when it comes down to it, you not his to have. not when he's too much of a coward to do anything about it.

"and if i am?" his words surprise you. it's the first time he's come close to revealing his true feelings in months. they're said with an underlying tone of anger, jealousy, and possessiveness. like you're already his and no one else's. "what's it to you?"

"oh, you know, just happy you're finally being a man and talking about your feelings."

you shouldn't have said that. with the way his eyes are practically glaring, you don't know what else to say. you look up when he stands, practically looming as he stalks to you.

"you're so-"

his words are interrupted by his cursing. he glares down at you, pushing his hand next to your head, pining you against the door. you gulp, watching as he practically shakes in anger.

"du machst mich wahnsinnig, liebling. ich glaube nicht, dass ich mich zurückhalten kann, wenn du weiterhin so eine göre bist."

translation: you're driving me mad, darling. i don't think i can hold back if you continue to be such a brat.

"he even asked to kiss me too," you say, your voice trembling under his dark gaze. your sweet and funny roommate is gone, replaced by the man you see in front of you. your heart is pounding against your chest, in both fear and excitement for what he'll do when you finally push him off the edge. "he-"

kaiser surges down, cutting your sentence off with a kiss.

your eyes widen when your head hits the door from his force. a shiver running down your spine when he lifts a hand, placing it on the back of your head, gently caressing the area. closing your eyes, you wrap your arms around his shoulder, kissing him back with just as much fervor.

he relaxes at that, pulling back slightly only to swoop back in, keeping you in his arms for as long as he wants. by the time he finally breaks the kiss, you're both leaning against each other.

you've never seen his eyes as happy as they are now.

"ich bin mir sicher, dass ich besser küsse als er," he says, smug as he takes in the way you're panting. he chuckles, placing his hands on the side of your neck to pull you into another kiss. "richtig, liebling?"

translation: i'm sure i kiss better than he does. right, darling?

"i don't know what you're saying but yes. okay. sure." you nod, head still hazy as his hands start to stroke your cheek. "if it's something bad, then no."

he chuckles, placing a kiss on the corner of your lips. he keeps you rooted in your spot, his eyes darting back between your eyes and your lips. "you're mine now, yeah? no one else gets to kiss you the way i did."

"about time," you say with a roll of your eyes when your breathing finally settles. you play with the hair around his shoulder, slightly tugging at the strands. "it went awful, by the way. he made me walk 3 kilometers because his car broke down."

his hands stop, freezing as he looks at you incredulously. "but you said-"

"i lied," you say with a cheeky grin. you lift yourself onto your tiptoes, placing a kiss on his cheek as an apology. "just wanted to see how you'd react."

you giggle when he groans, letting him settle in the crook of your neck. "you little minx. next time, call me. i'll pick you up and drop you off."

there's the kaiser you know and love.

"mihya." the nickname is odd on your lips, new and completely unrefined. you watch as he perks up, his eyes practically shining as he looks down at you. guess you'll just have to use the nickname on him more often from now on. "you're a terrible driver. you'd be picking me up at the mall and dropping us off at the gates of heaven."

"well, at least that means an angel will finally return home."

you smack his shoulder for that.

bonus:

you're walking down the stairs of your university a few weeks later, laughing at something your friend said when the sound of squealing fills your ears.

a sleek black lamborghini sits right in front of you.

you blink, taking in the over-the-top showcase before your eyes land on the figure right beside it. you snort as kaiser winks at you from his spot, still taking his time to soak up the limelight.

"did you have to come all the way here to be a showoff?" you greet him with a kiss to his cheek that kaiser visibly grins at.

ever since getting together, he's been hogging you all to himself. he insists on driving you to and from wherever you need because your time together is worth everything to him. "you are so petty. making sure no one even thinks of asking me out on another date?"

"you like it." the way he says it is breathless, like it's a secret he's been keeping to himself for a long time. "you like me."

who knew michael kaiser turned out to be such a corny romantic?

you snort, tugging him into the car before he makes any more of a scene. "i do."

he grins at that, revving the engine as loud as he can, smirking when a group of freshmen cheer and wave to him from behind the car.

"good." he takes your hand, placing a kiss on the knuckles. he holds it as he backs out of the university and into the open street. "be prepared because i'm about to spoil you even more."

[loveesiren]

𝖤𝗆𝖾𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗒 𝖢𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗍 (𝖯𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖳𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾)

Rafe Cameron x Reader

a/n: here is the third and perhaps final part? of Emergency Contact. I am open to the idea of writing more for this if you guys have some ideas you want to share with me! Otherwise, thank you so much for enjoying this mini series! I loved writing it and I can't wait to write more for Rafe <3 (Also, please lmk if tags aren't working!)

synopsis: Y/N has always been close to the Cameron family, practically a part of it after years of friendship. Beneath the surface, unspoken feelings simmer between her and Rafe, but neither of them can muster the courage to admit it. When Y/N finally decides to move on, setting her sights on a new man, he’s forced to confront the truth: losing her might cost him more than he ever realized.

warnings: language, angst, drug use (cocaine), alcohol, mention of rehab

wc: 4k+

The days that followed were a blur of beer, late-night adventures, and laughter with the Pogues. You told yourself you were over it, that you didn’t need Rafe’s attitude bringing you down. JJ had become a constant in your life, his arm draped over your shoulder more often than not. However, you still felt an empty hole in your chest.

You supposed you and JJ were a thing now, though you hadn’t put a label on it. He liked showing you off, and you didn’t mind the attention—especially when his lips trailed down your neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You let him explore your body, but you always stopped things before they went too far.

JJ didn’t say much about it, but you could tell he was frustrated. Still, he didn’t push you, which you appreciated.

A few nights later, you were sprawled across the couch with the Pogues, laughing as Sarah flailed her arms during a particularly dramatic game of charades. Her phone buzzed rapidly on the table beside you, but she didn’t notice.

“Sarah!” you called, grabbing her phone. “Your dad is blowing up your phone!”

The carefree energy in the room shifted as Sarah snatched her phone from your hands. Her brows furrowed as she read through the missed calls and texts. “Shit…” she muttered, worry creeping into her voice.

“What’s wrong?” Kiara asked, the concern spreading to everyone else.

“My dad can’t get in touch with Rafe,” Sarah said, her tone uneasy. “He’s out of town and freaking out.”

“Is Rafe okay?” you asked, your stomach twisting with sudden anxiety.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Sarah said quickly, but her eyes darted to the screen again. You could tell she wasn’t being entirely honest. “I just need to check on him. I’ll be back soon.” She grabbed her keys and hurried out the door.

You sat there, staring at the spot where Sarah had been. Pulling out your phone, you opened your text thread with Rafe. It had been five days since you’d last heard from him.

Are you okay? you typed, hesitating for only a second before hitting send.

The screen remained blank, no reply. With a heavy sigh, you tucked your phone back into your pocket and turned back to the group.

“I’m sure everything is fine,” JJ said softly, brushing your hair aside to kiss your cheek. He pulled you closer, offering comfort, but it didn’t reach the pit of unease growing in your chest.

“Yeah…” you mumbled, trying to believe him. But your mind was elsewhere.

All you could think about was Rafe.

-

“Rafe?” Sarah’s voice echoed through the house as she stepped inside. The space was dark and suffocatingly quiet, save for the faint thrum of music coming from down the hall. She reached for the light switch, illuminating the chaos around her—Rafe’s belongings strewn across the house like an abandoned battleground.

As she moved into the kitchen, her stomach twisted. Empty liquor bottles were tipped over on the island, surrounded by half-smoked joints and cigarette butts. She frowned, fighting the wave of dread rising in her chest.

“Rafe?” she called out again, louder this time, as she ventured deeper into the house. Her sandals crunched against the sticky floor. The music grew louder as she approached the master bedroom, the sound of heavy metal shaking the walls. It was a genre so foreign to Rafe that it made her pause.

Reaching for the handle, Sarah opened the door slowly, peeking inside. The sight before her made her heart drop.

Rafe sat slumped over his dresser, shirtless, his jeans undone and his hair disheveled. A half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels stood beside him, its sticky contents dripping down the side. He sniffed at the surface of the dresser, the residue of white powder glaring under the dim light.

“Rafe…” Sarah whispered, stepping in to lower the volume on the stereo. The silence that followed was heavy. “I thought you quit,” she said, her voice trembling as she fought back tears. Seeing him like this—broken, lost, a shadow of the brother she thought she’d gotten back—was almost unbearable.

Rafe didn’t look at her. Instead, he exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging. “Why’d you do it, Sarah?” he asked, his voice hoarse and low.

“D-Do what?” she stammered, blinking back tears.

He didn’t respond immediately, focusing instead on organizing another line of cocaine with unsteady hands.

“Dad’s worried,” she said, trying to keep her composure. “He told me to check on you. Rafe, what’s wrong? Why are you doing this? Y/N said you’d been acting weird, but I—”

“Y/N…” he interrupted bitterly, spitting out your name like it burned his tongue. “That’s the problem, Sarah.”

Sarah froze, her stomach tightening as Rafe finally turned to look at her. His bloodshot eyes were sunken, the pain etched deep into his face. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Why’d you hook Y/n up with JJ?” He asked, his voice breaking. “You knew—” He inhaled sharply, as if bracing himself. “You knew I fucking liked her, Sarah! You knew I…”

He trailed off, choking on his words.

Sarah’s lip quivered as she stared at him, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“You know I love her,” Rafe admitted, his voice barely audible as he crumbled to the floor. His back hit the edge of the bed, and he buried his face in his hands. The weight of those words hung heavy in the air. For so long, he’d buried the truth, but now it was out, raw and unfiltered.

Sarah knelt beside him, pulling him into her arms. “Rafe…” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. You never told me…”

Rafe shook his head, his body trembling as he sobbed. “It doesn’t matter. She’s with him now,” he said, his voice cracking. “I ruined everything. I treated her like shit, Sarah. She’s never going to forgive me. Never.”

Sarah held him tighter, her heart breaking for him. She didn’t know what to say, so she just let him cry. His sobs eventually softened, the exhaustion of the past few days finally catching up to him.

She helped him into bed, pulling the covers over him as he drifted into a deep, uneasy sleep. His breathing evened out, the rise and fall of his chest steadying. Sarah lingered for a moment, watching her brother in the dim light. He looked so fragile, so unlike the Rafe she grew up with.

Once she was certain he was asleep, she quietly left the room, leaving the door cracked open behind her. She pulled out her phone and dialed Ward, holding it to her ear as she began to clean up the kitchen.

“Yeah, he’s okay now,” she said, responding to Ward’s worried question. “I’m letting him sleep it off. I’ll get rid of the drugs and clean up the place, but… he’s not okay, Dad. He’s really not.” Her voice broke, but she steadied herself, wiping away a tear.

Ward’s response was short but decisive. “I’ll be on the next flight out.”

Hanging up, Sarah continued to clean, throwing away bottles and sweeping up the debris of her brother’s downward spiral. She was scrubbing the counter when her phone buzzed. The screen lit up with your photo, your name glowing brightly.

Sarah hesitated, her hand hovering over the phone. She sighed deeply before answering. “Hey…” she said softly, already knowing this wasn’t going to be an easy conversation.

You glanced at JJ, passed out on the couch across the room. His frustration earlier had been palpable—trying and failing to get you to sleep with him yet again. But how could you? Your mind was elsewhere, consumed with worry for Rafe. JJ had finally given up and flopped down, his snores starting almost instantly.

You scoffed, clutching your phone tighter in your hand. If JJ truly cared about you, he wouldn’t be pressuring you when you were clearly preoccupied. He wouldn’t be making this about himself. The analog clock on the wall read 2:13 a.m., and each unanswered ring on the phone made your anxiety climb higher.

Finally, Sarah’s soft voice came through. “Hey…”

“Sarah!” you exclaimed, standing up abruptly. “What’s going on? Is Rafe okay?”

There was a long pause, and her hesitation made your stomach drop. “Uhm…” Her voice cracked, and you knew.

“Sarah, what is it?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“Yes and no,” she finally said. “He… he relapsed.”

The weight of those words hit you like a freight train. You sank back down into the chair as tears blurred your vision. “Fuck…” you whispered, your voice breaking. You wiped at your face, but the tears kept coming. “I knew something was wrong. I tried, Sarah. I tried to get him to talk to me, but he just—”

“Y/N,” Sarah interrupted, her voice urgent but soft. “Can you just come over? I think he needs you right now.”

Her words stopped you in your tracks. “Me? Why would he need me?”

“Please,” she pleaded, ignoring your question.

You didn’t need to hear more. “I’m on my way,” you said, grabbing your keys and heading out the door.

When you arrived at Rafe’s house, the dim light spilling out from the kitchen was the only sign of life. You stumbled inside to find Sarah sweeping up broken glass, the remnants of Rafe’s spiral.

“Where is he?�� you asked, your voice breathless.

“He’s sleeping,” Sarah replied, her tone weary. She leaned against the counter and set the broom aside. “My dad’s flying back in the morning.”

You hesitated, watching her carefully. “Do you know what happened? Why does he… why does he need me?”

Sarah sighed deeply, dropping onto one of the barstools at the island. “I think I might’ve messed up,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Your brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

She hesitated, her eyes darting to the floor. “Rafe… he…” She trailed off, struggling to find the words.

“He what, Sarah?” you snapped, your patience wearing thin. “Just say it!”

Sarah’s gaze shot up to meet yours, her voice breaking as she blurted out, “He loves you, okay?!”

Your heart stopped. The air left the room. “What?” you whispered, your voice shaky.

Sarah softened, guilt etched across her face. “He loves you, Y/N. And I didn’t know… I didn’t know how much. I thought it was just some crush. He never made a move, so I figured he didn’t care. I thought setting you up with JJ would be fun, but I-” She sighed, her words tumbling over each other.

“Sarah, stop,” you said, cutting her off. She was spiraling, and you could barely keep up with her frantic explanations. “It’s not your fault.”

The room fell silent, and her words hung heavy in the air. Rafe loved you. He always had. And you—stupid, oblivious you—had missed it.

Sarah studied you for a moment, her tear-filled eyes softening. “Do you love him?” she asked quietly.

You nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek.

Her lips curved into a brief, sad smile as she wiped at her own tears. “Go to him,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what’s going to happen when my dad gets back. He’ll probably send him off to rehab again, but… he needs you right now.”

You gave her a small, grateful smile, your heart hammering in your chest as you stood. Sarah returned to her cleaning, giving you the space you needed.

Rafe’s bedroom door creaked softly as you pushed it open, slipping inside. The room was dark, lit only by the faint glow of the streetlights outside. Your gaze landed on him, sprawled across the bed. He looked so vulnerable, so unlike the confident and composed Rafe you’d always known. His chest rose and fell steadily, his lips slightly parted. Beads of sweat clung to his forehead, and his hair was a disheveled mess.

Your heart ached as you stepped closer. You could see the toll the past few days had taken on him—the flushed cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes, the faint tremor in his hand even as he slept.

Carefully, you slid into bed beside him, your weight barely shifting the mattress. You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers through his. His grip tightened instinctively, and you smiled softly, a tear slipping down your cheek.

“I love you, Rafe,” you whispered, your voice trembling. You didn’t know if he could hear you, but it didn’t matter. For the first time, you let yourself say the words out loud.

And for the first time in days, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Your eyes fluttered open to the early morning sun peeking through the blinds. The air was heavy, a mix of stale whiskey and regret clinging to the room. You turned your head slightly, finding Rafe curled into you. For someone usually so imposing, he looked impossibly small, trembling as the aftershocks of withdrawal rippled through his body.

“Rafe?” you whispered, brushing the damp strands of hair from his forehead. His cheek was flushed under your palm, warm and slick with sweat.

“It’s freezing…” he mumbled, though his skin burned with fever.

You frowned, heart aching at the sight of him. “Come on, let’s get you in the shower,” you murmured gently.

Helping him out of bed proved to be a challenge. He groaned as you maneuvered him upright, his body heavy and uncoordinated, but you were determined. Once you were in the bathroom you carefully peeled his jeans off, leaving him in his boxers, before guiding him toward the shower.

The sound of the water rushing into the tub filled the space. You adjusted the temperature until it was lukewarm—cool enough to help his fever but not cold enough to make him shiver. As soon as Rafe stepped under the spray, he slumped to the floor of the tub with a heavy groan, his knees drawn up, arms resting limply on them.

You perched on the closed toilet lid, keeping an eye on him. He looked utterly spent, the water coursing over his fevered skin, plastering his messy hair to his forehead. You pulled out your phone to find a text from Sarah.

Dad’s flight is delayed. Won’t make it until tonight.

You exhaled in quiet relief. At least you had more time to be here with Rafe before Ward arrived and took over.

Can you bring me a liquid IV? I’ve got him in the shower, you texted back.

Minutes later, there was a soft knock on the bathroom door. You opened it just enough to see Sarah holding a glass. She handed it to you, her brows furrowed with worry. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s coming down,” you said, taking the glass from her. “He’s got a bit of a fever, but I think he’ll be okay.”

Sarah bit her lip but nodded. “Okay… I’ll make some breakfast,” she said quietly.

“Thanks, Sarah. We’ll be out soon,” you assured her, closing the door again.

You turned back to Rafe, who hadn’t moved from his spot on the shower floor. His shoulders were hunched, the water cascading down his back. Slowly, you crouched by the tub and opened the shower door.

“Rafey,” you coaxed gently, holding the glass out. “I need you to drink this. It’ll help, okay?”

He lifted his eyes to meet yours, glassy and tired, but he obediently took the glass with trembling hands. You guided it to his lips, helping him sip slowly. It took a few minutes, but he managed to finish it, and you set the empty glass aside with a soft smile.

“Good job,” you said softly, brushing your fingers against his damp hair.

Rafe’s voice broke through the quiet. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he rasped.

You shook your head, crouching closer. “You don’t need to be sorry.”

“I fucked up,” he sighed, his head dipping forward.

“No, Rafe, I did.” You bit your lip, your voice trembling as you confessed. “I should’ve told you a long time ago… that I love you.”

His head snapped up, his bloodshot blue eyes locking onto yours. “You what?” His voice cracked, almost disbelieving.

You nodded, tears threatening to spill. “I love you, Rafe. And I’m so sorry I didn’t realize sooner. I should’ve known something was wrong. I should’ve been there for you…”

Rafe stared at you, his body frozen as your words sank in. Every chaotic thought in his mind came to a halt, silenced by the sheer weight of your confession. Before either of you could second-guess the moment, he reached out, his strong hand pulling you into the shower with him.

“Rafe—!” you gasped as the water soaked through your clothes, but your protest died on your lips as his mouth found yours.

The kiss was soft yet desperate, his lips trembling against yours, the weight of unspoken years pouring into the moment. It took you a second to process what was happening, but then you melted into him, snaking an arm around his neck and tangling your fingers in his damp hair.

Every problem, every heartache, every unanswered question disappeared as his hands slid up your back, anchoring you to him. He kissed you like you were the air he needed to breathe, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself forget the world outside.

When the kiss finally broke, you were both breathless. His blue eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made your chest ache. Your mascara ran in streaks down your cheeks, and strands of wet hair clung to your face, but none of it mattered.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse but steady.

You smiled through your tears, brushing a thumb over his cheek. “I love you too, Rafe.”

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not Ward, not Sarah, not the mistakes or the pain. Just you and Rafe, tangled together, the water washing away everything but the promise of a new beginning.

You and Sarah spent the day nursing Rafe back to health. Between making sure he ate and keeping him hydrated, most of your time was spent curled up with him on the couch. He gravitated toward your warmth, his head resting on your shoulder as Adventure Time played softly on the TV. His apologies spilled out at regular intervals, at least once every thirty minutes, as though they were on a timer.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured for what felt like the hundredth time, his voice barely above a whisper.

You ran your fingers gently through his hair, offering a soft smile. “Rafey, it’s okay. We’ve already forgiven you.”

Sarah chimed in from the kitchen, “She’s right. We just want you to focus on getting better.”

But no matter how much reassurance you both gave him, Rafe couldn’t seem to forgive himself. His relapse haunted him—forcing his dad to cut a business trip short, the anger he’d unleashed on you, the guilt over falling back into old habits. He swore up and down he’d never touch cocaine again, especially now that he had you, but addiction wasn’t that simple. You knew the moment Ward arrived, he would take charge of the situation.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the room as you snuggled deeper into Rafe’s arms. Between soft kisses and whispered promises of a future together, you tried to savor the quiet moments. In the kitchen, Sarah hummed softly as she worked on dinner, the smell of roasted potatoes and chicken wafting through the house.

Then, the front door slammed open. The calm shattered as Ward’s heavy footsteps echoed through the house.

“Where is he?” Ward’s voice boomed, sharp with frustration and worry.

Sarah stepped into the living room, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “On the couch with Y/N,” she said quietly, her eyes darting to you and Rafe.

Rafe tensed beside you. You placed a comforting hand on his chest, but he was already pushing the blanket off and rising to his feet.

“Hey, Dad,” he said softly, his voice thick with shame.

Ward’s expression was a mixture of relief and disappointment as his eyes scanned his son. Without a word, he crossed the room and pulled Rafe into a firm embrace. Rafe stiffened at first but then melted into it, his head dropping to Ward’s shoulder.

“Let’s go talk,” Ward said gruffly, his hand gripping Rafe’s shoulder as he guided him toward the master bedroom.

The door clicked shut behind them, leaving you and Sarah in heavy silence. You sat down at the kitchen island, pulling Rafe’s blanket around your shoulders, the lingering warmth proving to be a poor substitute for him.

“Ward’s going to send him away, isn’t he?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sarah sighed as she plated some food and slid it in front of you. “Probably,” she admitted, sitting across from you with her own plate. “I’m sorry about all of this.”

You frowned. “Why are you apologizing?” you asked, absentmindedly poking at a roasted potato.

Sarah hesitated before speaking. “I should’ve known you two were in love. How could I have been so blind? If I hadn’t pushed JJ on you, maybe none of this would’ve happened. This is all my fault.”

You shook your head and reached across the table to take her hands. “Sarah, this isn’t your fault. It’s not your job to play matchmaker. Maybe Rafe and I just ignored what was right in front of us for too long.”

She gave you a small, sheepish smile. “So… you don’t really like JJ?”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “JJ’s fine. Kind of a dick though. There’s no connection there. Not like what I feel for Rafe.”

Sarah grinned, her eyes brightening a little. “Maybe one day we’ll be sisters,” she teased.

You chuckled. “Let’s get through tonight first.”

The bedroom door creaked open, and both of you turned as Ward made his way into the kitchen. His expression was firm but calm. “I’m taking him to treatment first thing in the morning,” he announced.

Your heart clenched, but you nodded, understanding. This was what Rafe needed, even if it hurt to let him go.

Ward glanced between you and Sarah before his features softened slightly. “Sarah, why don’t you and I spend the night at Tanneyhill? Give Rafe and Y/N some time alone.”

Sarah smiled and hugged you tightly before gathering her things. “Thank you, Mr. C,” you said, your voice filled with gratitude.

He gave you a small nod. “Call if you need anything,” he said before ushering Sarah out the door.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what would likely be one of the hardest nights of your life. With the house quiet again, you made your way down the hall to Rafe’s bedroom.

You knocked softly before opening the door. Rafe was already in bed, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling, but when he saw you, a small smile tugged at his lips. He patted the space beside him, inviting you to lay with him.

Climbing into bed, you turned to face him, resting your head on his chest. “How are you feeling?” you asked gently.

“Better. A lot better,” he said, wrapping an arm around you. His smile faltered, replaced by a frown. “But my dad’s not going to let me off easy.”

“It’s okay, Rafey,” you reassured him, lacing your fingers with his. “Take the time you need to get better. I’ll be here when you get back.”

He turned his head to look at you, his blue eyes searching yours for any trace of doubt. “You promise?”

You smiled softly and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Cross my heart.”

A genuine smile broke across his face, something that was rare to find in Rafe Cameron. Holding him close, you let the rhythm of his breathing lull you into a sense of calm. Whatever came next, you’d face it together.

© loveesiren 2025 - do not copy, translate, transfer, or repost my work without my permission. if you find my work on sites other than through links i've provided, please notify me.

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[pastlivesxpastlie]

I see in a different light...the object of my desire

what happens when you accidentally text Bestfriend!Vessel instead of your Tinder hook up?

Tags/CW/Head's Up: vessel x you, fem gendered language, brief dubcon, briefly jealous!vessel and possessive!vessel, sending nudes, verbal teasing, spanking, cunnilingus, prone-bone, smut interrupted by fluff then back to smut, barely revised argue with the wall, fuck boys mentioned

MDNI 18+

it's one of those nights where nothing is going your way. you're still fuming about getting ghosted on tinder earlier this week. things were going so well and if *insert douchey fuck boy name* hadn't gone radio silent, you'd probably be going down on him right now! it's been entirely too long since you've had sex, let alone received some kind of non-platonic male attention. that's why you joined tinder this past month, even though your best friend, Vessel's, voice echoed in your ear saying...

Plenty of men want you! I don't get why you don't see it. You don't need the apps, just get out of your head. 

wow. so helpful. thank you, sir. you rolled your eyes when he said that as you edited your profile. if he's so good at noticing when other guys were checking you out, why did he never point them out? or was he just being nice?

at any rate, you feel cheated out of a fun night with a hot guy and want to make him feel sorry. so, you do what any sane, horny girl would do--send him a nude. you don't show everything right away. not you. never. you took the selfie so quickly you didn't have time to feel shame.

You put your PJs on and start to make yourself a little snack when you hear your text tone. Hah. Finally! He’s back in your messaging…groveling. pleading. Another ding. HAH! You must have really got him.

Vessel: Send another one xx 

5 minutes earlier

Vessel was tempted to pull an all nighter. He knew if he just put in a liiiiiitle more work, this melody would be golden and maybe he could pat himself on the back. Right as he was about to rage quit....ding ding. Very very few people's texts are allowed to bypass his DND settings...except for his best friend.

you: this could be yours, you know?

Vessel nearly dropped his phone as he made sense of the picture in front him. It only showed her lips down to her soft tummy, but he knew it was her. This wasn't some weird spam text masquerading as his dearest friend. She looked angelic. Dreamy. Delicious. Her free hand covered her breasts...her lips in a flirty smirk as she lightly bit her plush bottom lip. Vessel knew she was beautiful. Aren't all women beautiful, though? Surely every man feels his head cave in and his stomach clench with butterflies when his best female friend is near. Right…?

"Fuuuuuuuucccccck" he intoned, letting his hand drift down to his crotch to try and calm himself. He shook his head and repeated himself, putting down the phone. More than likely that text wasn't meant for him. There was no way. His face burned. His cock throbbed between his legs as he felt these strange, lustful stirrings for his best friend. What the fuck was wrong with him? The track he was working on quickly became the least important thing in the world…his frustrations slipping away as soon as his zipper was undone.

What the fuck? What the actual fuck? How did you click on Vessel’s name instead of *insert douchey fuck boy name*?! They aren’t even close in spelling…oh…but they’re close on your “Recents” list. And now your hastiness and inattention has lead to you receiving a flirty response from your best friend who has been nothing short of a little brother to you.

You: OMG VES I AM SO SORRY!!! I didn’t mean to send that to you. FML. You: It was supposed to go to this guy from Tinder. Let’s just delete the thread and put this behind us, yeah?

...

It’s been 20 minutes. No response. Your stomach is in knots from the unknown. It’s really late…maybe he fell asleep. Maybe he was just kidding? Yes. That’s it. He was drunk and messing about and then passed out. That will help you sleep…just keep telling yourself…

Knock knock knock 

There have been two times now that you wish the tinder fuck boy was here. First time was when you were so horny you couldn’t see straight after your shower, and the second time was now, as someone knocked on your door at 1:30 AM. *ding ding*

Vessel: hun, come on. It’s me. 

Christ. What is this? You get off your bed and peer through the peep hole. Sure enough, it’s Ves in a hoodie and sweats, looking cuddly and kissable and WAIT. No no no no. Get it together. He probably just wants to hang out to show you that nude incident doesn’t change anything. 

“Well hello there young man, does your mother know you’re not in bed?” You say with a dry laugh as you open the door.

Vessel walks right past you into your place. You close the door behind you and lean your back against it. 

“Have I repulsed you into silence, hm?” 

Your normally boyish, quiet, sarcastic best friend looks practically ravenous as his eyes trail down your body. Now he knows what you look like naked, and the sight of you clothed right now borders on sacrilege. He takes a step forward. His doe eyes, which still brim with charm and platonic affection, bore into you as he grasps your chin with his hand.

“How cruel…to dangle such a tasty treat in front of me and then not take a compliment and act like this was such a terrible oversight on your part,” he growls.

“And which compliment are you referring to?”

He pulls you by the chin enough so that your back is off the door, though you’re certain he will just pin you back against it when he sees fit. This is not your closest friend. This is a man possessed. 

“Stop playing dumb, it’s beneath you. I asked you to send another immediately after receiving the first. Is that not a compliment? That I’m not merely satisfied with one image. I could have you in countless ways…I need to know what that would look like. Do you really want me to take you on your back every time? Always with your arm covering your tits like that? Hm?”

Your inhales are sharp gasps now as the butterflies in your tummy churn to get out. You’ve never seen him like this…never seen him as a prospective lover…never seen him horny even…but this…wait…wait why is he…

He gently chuckles and presses you back against the door, shaking his head and stepping away. 

“Oh my god…” he chuckles, “the look on your face. I really had you going, eh?”

You scoff, laughing in disbelief. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” You say shaking your head and walking towards your kitchen. Just fall into the old routine. Get your usual drinks and plop on the couch for shit tv. You don’t make it far and suddenly you’re being pulled backwards by your sleep shorts. 

“This is what the fuck is wrong with me.” His hands keep your hips still as he presses his bulge against you. “You’ve ruined me. You have actually ruined my perception of you.”

“Tsk,” you try to wriggle from his grip but he ends up clasping you in a tight bear hug from behind, “slut shaming me now?”

“You sweet, silly, little wanker….shaming?” God it was weird to hear his playful nickname for you as he gently grinds against you. The resolve you worked so hard to build is dissolving as your head falls against his shoulder and allow him to knead your hips and stomach. He continues in hot, breathy whispers, “babydoll…I encourage it…as long it’s saved for me. Can you do that? Hm? Can you promise to only share that with me?”

Now your body betrays you and you grind back into him. 

“You’re no better than me. Look at you,” he says he plants soft, needy kisses on your neck. “You want this, don’t you? Please…please tell me you feel it too.” His grip is no longer firm. It’s hard. You're able to snake one of your hands up and behind his neck…you’re desperate to touch him anywhere at this point. 

“I…I feel it…”

Suddenly you’re being steered towards your bedroom. Ves is strong, perhaps not enough to hoist you up and throw you on bed, but he enthusiasm is evident when you’re pushed on the bed on your stomach. Immediately he’s out of his hoodie and his warm, bare torso presses against your back. He’s clinging to you from behind and letting his hands roam under your shirt. 

You let out a breathy moan and chuckle. “So you liked what you saw?”

“Mmmmmph,” He lets out gruffly as he gently bites your shoulder and licks the indentions from his pearly whites. 

You let out another moan but with a cackle now. “Oh ew. Sorry that wasn’t hot.”

He leans up and gives you a swift smack on your plush ass. “I’m realizing now that everything about you is hot.” But you don’t feel him touch you anymore. You roll over and look up at him. He sighs. 

“Ves, you ok? Did I do something wrong?”

“No…no…I just…kind of dropped back into my body. What are we doing?”

You smirk sadly. What are you two doing?

“We can stop if you want. Just talk. Whatever you want.” You sit up and caress his arm feeling the warmth and texture of his skin as if for the first time. He looks at you softly.

“Please don’t take my…enthusiasm…as some kind of…I don’t know…disregard for you. I’d…I’d do anything to be on the receiving end of those texts…I realize that now. It’s not just sex I want. It’s not just…your body. Don’t get me wrong…it tempts me beyond belief…now that I’ve seen it. But I get it now.”

You smile softly and maybe even proudly as he soothes your fears. As much as you would have loved to be prone-boned a minute ago, you were scared it was only because of the newness and craziness of the situation. “Get what, Ves?”

“Why I feel the need to do this.” And with that he presses deep kiss into your plump lips. His hand slips down shyly to your collar bone as your hand tangles in his hair. 

You let him undress you. Of course, he had just seen you practically naked. But here you were…in the flesh before him. You two spent a considerable just touching…caressing...tasting. But it became frenzied again after you let your hand mindlessly trail down your body to rub your clit. It wasn’t long before you found yourself folded in half with his face between your legs. His tongue flicking and massaging your clit as you squeal and buck your hips against him. His strong arms keep you still for the most part, but you don’t know what to do with your hands. First they’re on your tits…then the back of his head…twisted in his hair. He gives in and sticks his tongue out to let you grind against it. With your hand holding his hair tightly, your hips grind against his precious face. You look down…met with those same doe eyes. As if you weren’t mewling and blubbering enough…that little shit chuckles dryly and presses two fingers into your hot pussy. 

“Ffffffuuuuuccckkkk you. Oh my GOD,” you groan as you reach your climax. The white-hot knot in your tummy unfurls and your folds ache with pleasure as he presses your insides firmly and watches you reverently. “Holy fuck…ok…fuck…get off me now,” you say quickly because otherwise you’ll be completely overstimulated. He backs off immediately. What a good boy. His chest heaves up and down as he looks at you. You suddenly feel very small. Vulnerable with your soft belly and pussy exposed to him. What’s the worst that could happen…letting your best friend rut into you?

“You’re on birth control, yeah?”

You nod. Your IUD was still good for two more years. But you half-think you’d give him whatever he wanted, even if it meant being risky and stupid. He takes your legs firmly and pulls you down to him. He pats your clit with his heavy cock a few times. You shudder. 

“How long’s it been, love? Hm?” You don’t even want to answer. He caresses your cheek and moves to press himself inside you. Your body clenches as his thick cock stretches you. “Oh…oh it’s been awhile. Poor, little love. Let me fix it…let me make it better.”

As soon as he starts fucking you, you’re moaning his name and clasping his forearms. Your soft body jiggles in little waves as he presses into you with a gentle, patience force.

“Fucking hell…” he moans as he moves his hands. One settles on your ribs under your breast while the other collapses and lazily circles the top of your head. He leans down to kiss you…your taste still on his lips. 

Despite being so worked up, he keeps his wits about him and is able to fuck you without completely blowing his load in his new favorite place— your heavenly, warm, pussy. 

“God…god…such a pretty girl,” he whispers huskily. “My pretty girl is so good at taking cock. How did you get so good at taking cock, hm? You’re so good. So pretty.”

You can’t take it. You pull him in and make out with him roughly. All the feelings and thoughts you’d repressed flow out of you via your mouth and hips rubbing against him pathetically. He holds you impossibly close as he whines in your neck. 

“Babydolll….mmm…my little doll… stay still…stay still for me.”

Suddenly he flips you onto your stomach. An impressive feat given he was just balls deep in you. He pulls your hips up like he owns you and presses back into your pussy. He immediately whimpers pathetically. You’re desperate to throw it back but he gives your bottom a swift spank. 

“I said be still.” 

And with a hand firmly between your shoulder blades and another on your lower back, he drills into you until he’s shaking and blubbering about how he’s cumming inside you…how there’s no one like you…how you’re made for him…

The next morning, you wake up with Ves draped across your chest, snoring softly. You pet his hair softly and rub the sleep from your eyes as you check your phone. Hmm. Three missed calls and a string of pathetic texts from *insert douchey fuck boy name* acting like he never ghosted you in the first place. You toss your phone to the foot of the bed and curl up to Ves, who groggily wakes up as your kiss his head.

“Mine.” He says holding you close. 

“Mine.” You respond…groggy…sore…and lovesick.

[enbyfvcker]

[Porn star puppy]

𝙒𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙒𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙭 𝙇𝙤𝙜𝙖𝙣 (𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙩!𝙬𝙤𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙚)

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 1,8k

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮/𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩: Wade helps to distract his grumpy boyfriend from alcohol withdrawal by forcing orgasm after orgasm from him.

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙨: Smut, rim, anal sex, handjob, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, praise kink, slight degradation kink, hair pulling, sex tape, sub/dom subtones, bottom!logan, top!wade, fourth wall break.

.

.

.

It was a rough fucking day. When Logan normally tags along with Wade at his casual hit jobs, they don't usually stress him out so much. They just get the job done easy, peasy. Kill some bad guys, yada yada and all that. And it was nice to do something once in a while so that he wouldn't just rot in the apartment he now shared with his mouthy boyfriend and a blind old lady. (Logan was definitely not used to calling Wade that but it was a working progress. Besides, it has just been a few weeks since they put a name to what they have.)

But no, today drained him. He's been more testy lately if he actually thinks about it...

It was probably the fucking withdrawal. It was getting worse.

Turns out the cons of having a boyfriend now is that for once, when he acted like the self-destructive little shit that he is, he now felt like he was dragging Wade along. Fine, it wasn't really a con... It's just that Logan was used to being miserable, used to kicking himself down and drowning himself in bottles and bottles so he could escape from his own thoughts for a little while.

But Wade 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 cared. Wade cared, and Logan could see it whenever Wade took care of him when he'd come back to the apartment stumbling and barely able to hold himself up until he passed out on the couch after spending hours on a random bar. The seventh that he had been banned from in this universe already.

So maybe he hesitantly gave in and let the merc convince him to try and stay sober.

And fuck if it isn't hard as hell.

Logan was exhausted and pent up and grumpy and god he craved a drink more than anything. Several, actually.

But Wade... Well, he had his ways to distract and ease him. So it wasn't all bad.

Al was out for a date for plot convenience, and right now they were on the living room couch and Wade has his grumpy boyfriend with his back glued to his chest and grunting as Wade pumped his over-stimulated cock mercilessly. Logan's thighs were trembling, and he could barely form any coherent words, his eyes rolling back into his head as he rested it on Wade's shoulder and Wade was fucking mesmerized by the sight in front of him.

"You don't look so scary when you're all pliant and desperate in my arms, baby girl. You're just a little kitty cat, aren't you?" Wade coos in Logan's ear.

"Shut the f-fuck up-" Logan grunt in annoyance but Wade could feel his boyfriend's cock twitching in his fist and he couldn't help but smirk. Logan mind was dazed. He's lost count of how many orgasms Wade pulled out of him, his thighs and abs in a mess of his own cum. The pleasure was bordering on painful, and yet he couldn't get enough, his body overwhelmed and desperate for more. His healing factor aiding his torture, reliving his libido right after he thought he couldn't take anymore.

"Can't take you seriously when you look so sinful covered in your own juices, princess. God, you look pornographic. You think we should make amateur videos? I think they'd be a hit. The freaks reading this would surely eat it up."

"Wade-" Logan warns through gritted teeth. He lift his arm and his claws pricked out an inch and threatened to come out, but Logan's mind was too focused on the overwhelming stimulation to get them out properly.

"Ah, ah, ah. Down, boy." Wade scouts, tightening his fist on Logan's cock and using his other hand to rub the palm of it against the sensitive tip, earning a desperate whine from his lips, the claws coming back to his arms fully. "Behave."

Logan could hear the grin in Wade's voice and he wanted to fucking mutilate it out of his face, but he didn't had the energy to do much more than whimper like a bitch in heat.

"That's a good boy." Wade praises and Logan felt his cock throb at the words. "God, if you had a tail it'd be fucking wagging right now. That's it, peanut, take it like a good puppy."

"Fuck-" Logan growls, and his hips rut desperately into Wade's hand before he stills and shakes while another stream of thick ropes of cum paint his thighs. Wade 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 loved digging into Logan's praise kink.

Before he could even catch his breath he gasped out a strangled whine as Wade's hand returned to it's previous movements, unrelenting.

"W-Wade!" Logan cries out, his legs trembling.

"Tapping out already, baby girl? Come on, give me one more." The merc coos, licking and nipping at the back of his neck and suckling marks that desapeared in seconds. "Do you want me to stop?"

"N-No... Please," Logan whines and he hates how desperate he sounds, but he also don't fucking cares. Right now, his mind's all fuzzy and his inhibitions said goodbye long time ago. He felt safe with Wade, like he could just let go. "Don't."

Wade rewarded him by pumping faster, his free hand squeezing Logan's pec and pinching his nipple in a movement that made Logan arch his back and whimper, his ass rubbing against Wade's raging hard on. 𝘐𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘺.

"W-Wade, I..." Logan pants, his cheeks warming as he tries to find words that wouldn't make him want to blow up in shame.

"Hm?" He feels his boyfriend tightening the grip in his cock. "Use your words, peanut, go on."

"Shit- Wade... Want your cock." He moans, his cheeks flushing as he clench his fists tight. He could just feel Wade grinning behind him.

"Yeah? How do you want it, baby cheeks?"

"You know how." Logan grunts in response, whining when Wade slows down his hand almost to a stop, pumping in a torturing slow pace.

"Yeah, but I wanna hear you say it, baby."

"Just fuckin- Fuck me already before I impale you in my claws, jerk." He growls.

"Good enough." Wade shrugs with a grin and switches their position in a quick movement, putting Logan on all fours on the couch, making him gasp. "So pretty for me." Wade praised, spreading Logan's cheeks. "You're dripping all over my couch, baby girl."

"Stop fucking calling me th-" He's interrupted by his own groan as Wade dives in and licks his rim, opening him up with his togue, reaching as deep as he could. Logan cries out, not sure if it was too much or not enough. "Wade... stop fucking teasing me, just do it already before I regret it and rail 𝘺𝘰𝘶 instead."

"You're extra bossy today, huh?" Wade chuckles, giving one last lick before moving to grab a bottle of lube in his pants pocket and desposing of them right after, spilling the liquid over his lenght. "Don't worry, I'll turn your brain mushy soon enough, cutie. Be patient for daddy."

"I swear to fucking g- oh 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬." He growls as Wade slides in roughly, his initial grumpiness replaced by a rush of pleasure. Wade takes a punishing pace, forcing desperate moans and whimpers out of him. Logan's arms were trembling, and he slacked his torso onto the couch, his back arching in a filthy angle that has Wade drooling.

"God, I wish you could see yourself right now..." Wade grunts behind him, a clear grin on his voice. "All strong and tough and fucking slutty just for me. Such eye candy."

Wade looks into an invisible audience and grins. "Yeah, I'm talking Hugh Fucking Jackman on all fours in the goddamn void level type shit, but like 10 times better."

Logan snarled but he could barely think of a retort to reprimand Wade, his mind buzzing in pleasure, lewd moans escaping from his lips that would have him blushing if he weren't completely cock drunk right now. He could feel himself leaking pre-cum at the merc's words and 𝘨𝘰𝘥 he feels pathetic, but he fucking likes it.

He shivered as he heard a goddam camera sound behind him and when he turned his head to the side he saw Wade grabbed his fucking phone and was taking pictures of him in this position, and it really shouldn't have sent all his blood straight to his cock the way it did.

"The fuck are you doing, bub?"

"Oh this one's definitely going to my wank material album." Wade just smirked in response.

"I'm gonna rip your fucking fingers out-" He moans loudly when Wade grabs his hair in his fist and tugs it back, arching Logan's back even more. Fireworks pop inside Logan's head as Wade's cock hit his prostate and brushes against it over and over in a quick pace.

"Shh, now kitty, just take it." Wade moans as he presses the record button. "My little porn star, so fucking hot."

"Shit- fuck, fuck, fuck," Logan whimpers, his cock twitching repeatedly, his balls growing tighter as his body prepares for yet another orgasm, probably the fifth of the night or something, he wasn't sure.

"Go on, Wolvie. Show me the good little cockwhore you are for me, kitten.

"Gonna cum, gonna-" A series of whines leaves his throat. His claws come out in a flash and dig into the cushions as he paints the couch with his seed, his eyes rolling back at the intense wave of pleasure hitting him like a train.

"God-" Wade wasn't far behind. He gaps and thrusts roughly a couple more times before spilling inside Logan with a desperate moan, as if he's been holding back just to bring his boyfriend to the edge first.

Logan was now boneless in the couch, his mind fully empty as he swims in the afterglow. He wasn't thinking or worrying or craving any drink, and it just felt like heaven. When his heartbeat comes back to normal he unsheathed his claws from the poor couch, sliding them back into his skin.

After a few seconds catching his breath, Wade pulls out with a grunt and records with a smirk as his cum leaks out of Logan's puffy hole before tossing his phone aside. He leans down and wrap his arms around Logan, settling them until they're spooning in the cum soaked couch, barely fitting them both layed like this.

"We should get up and clean this mess before Althea gets home wonder why the house smells like bleach." Logan sighs gruffly, but he doesn't make any move to leave, his body too exhausted.

"Mhmm. Just five more minutes, mom."

Logan roll his eyes.

"God, you're insufferable."

"Yeah, well, you love me anyway, peanut."

And he doesn't reply anything, not a mean retort or an annoyed growl because it was true.

He does love this idiot.

[simplyhughes]

Reunion | Evan “Buck” Buckley x Reader

WC: 2.2K

Request: “Pis pls plss do a childhood friends to lovers w buck like she moved to La to be close to buck and everyone at the 118 thinks they're dating because of how close they are but they aren't dating YET and can you please try to throw in a heated argument between them that ends with a heated kiss!!!!!! Pls plss plsss”

Pairing: Evan Buckley X Fem!Reader

Warning: sad childhood ?? Idk nothing rlly

A/N: Please give me feedback!! I hope you like it!!!

It was always Buck and Y/N—everyone knew that. The two of you had been inseparable ever since you moved in next door in the second grade. It all started with Maddie babysitting you for some extra pocket money. You adored her; she was the sister you’d always wished for. And when Buck began tagging along, the rest was history.

The day Buck told you he’d been kicked out of community college, your heart broke for him. When you pulled away from the hug meant to comfort him, he shared that Maddie had given him some money to figure out his next steps. You questioned him, pestered him, trying to keep him from doing something irrational. By the end of the conversation, he stormed out of your apartment, slamming the door behind him, leaving you sitting there in tears.

Once Buck hit the road to California, his regret set in. He knew he had to do this for himself, to find himself. His guilt poured in like rainfall. After a couple hours of driving, A few hours into the drive, he pulled into a rest stop with a diner and ordered coffee and pancakes. Without thinking, he dialed your number, desperate to make things right. The two of you talked for over an hour, hashing out everything. You understood his need for a fresh start, but it devastated you that it wouldn’t include you.

When the call ended, both parties felt relieved. You promised to come visit when you finished school and both of you vowed to stay in touch. The vow was never broken. Everyday you hear new thrilling anecdotes of Evans' life. The trashing fire he put out, now that he was a firefighter, or the crazy new fling of the week. Though every time he brings up a new girl you feel your heart pang, you stay happy for him and you're grateful to hear his voice.

After you received your diploma, you wasted no time. With your degree in hand and a mix of nerves and excitement in your chest, you booked the next flight to the City of Angels. Maddie, now living in Los Angeles herself, was the one who gave you Buck’s current address.

You’d thought about this moment for years, imagining how it would feel to see him again. The two of you had kept in touch, but phone calls and texts could only do so much. You wanted to be there in person, to see him in his element, living the life he’d always dreamed of.

When you arrived, standing outside his apartment door, you hesitated. What if things had changed too much? What if the years apart had built walls that even your bond couldn’t break? But before you could overthink it, the door swung open, and there he was—Buck, with his boyish grin and those familiar eyes that held both surprise and joy.

“Y/N?” he said, his voice laced with disbelief.

“Hi, Buck,” you replied, your heart pounding.

Without a second thought, he engulfed you in a bone-crushing hug, sweeping you off the ground and spinning you around like a rag doll. When your feet finally touched the floor, his hands cupped your face, his eyes searching yours.

“You look beautiful, Y/N. I missed you so much,” he confessed.

Before you could reply, his excitement took over. “Oh! You have to meet my team! They’re going to love you…” He rambled on about how great they were, how much he’d missed you, and how everyone already knew all about you.

Grabbing your hand, he led you out of the apartment and down to the parking lot. It was crazy—like no time had passed at all. Everything between you felt natural, just as it had before he left.

Buck opened the door of his Jeep, helping you into the passenger seat before rushing around to climb in himself.

“Wait… Are we really going to meet them?” you asked nervously. You’d heard so much about his team, but this was all so sudden.

“Well, I was already on my way to work. This is perfect! Don’t worry—they already know all about you,” he assured you with a grin.

The firehouse was bigger than you’d thought. Buck leads the way with you trailing closely behind him, almost hiding yourself from the fire fighters inside the house.

“HEYYY BUCKAROO!” Echoed through the house, originating from on top of one of the fire engines.

“Hey Chim! Look- I brought someone!” Buck chirped.

“You brought someone?” Spoke a man who had walked out of the locker room. From all the pictures that Buck sent of his new LA family, you were pretty sure this was Eddie. Now standing in the middle of the fire house, Buck tugged on your arm pulling you out in front of him. You are now face to face with three members of Evans team. Chim, who was on top of the Engine, climbs his way down standing next to Eddie.

“Guys, this is Y/N!” Buck exclaims, acting as if this was an elementary show and tell.

“Wait, the Y/N?” A woman you “knew” as Hen questioned.

“Like Pennsylvania Y/N?” Eddie followed up.

“That's me.” You reply sheepishly, giving them a small wave.

“It is very nice to meet you Y/N, I’m Bobby” The older of the four introduced himself, sticking out his hand for you to shake.

“Captain Nash, right?” You question, shaking his hand softly. In return, he nods with a sweet smile.

You shuffle back, finding your place next Buck, whose beaming smile never left his face. He loops an arm around your waist, giving you a reassuring nod. Buck announces he is gonna give you the “grand tour” of the fire house. He clasps your hand with his as he pulls you off upstairs.

Hen, Chim and Eddie lounged across the couch, subtling watching you and Buck. Your elbows rest on the kitchen counter sipping on a glass of water Buck poured for you. His mouth is talking a mile a minute, subconsciously always keeping a hand on you. The other firefighters watch Buck, noting his eyes gleaming with awe. Buck sweeps his large hand across your forehead sweeping a strand of hair out from your face.

“I missed you” He whispers as he pulls you in for a hug.

“I missed you too—” You began to respond before you got rudely interrupted by the piercing sound of the alarm.

“Hey, you can go back to my place or hangout here. Whatever you want, mkay? I gotta go, but I'll see you too.” He quickly explains releasing you from the hug, placing a soft kiss against the top of your head. You didn't even have time to respond before he ran away with a grin. He shoots down the firepole meeting the rest of the team for departure. Overlooking from the banister, you watch him in action. The engine pulls out, sirens blazing. Now you are left all alone.

After a minute, you decided to call an uber back to Buck’s place. Only one problem, you couldn't find your phone. You retraced all your steps and still couldn’t find it. Ten minutes later is when you realize your phone was left back at Buck's apartment. You didn't want to take Buck's car and overstep, so your only option left was to hang around until the 118 got back.

A couple hours later, the truck pulls back into the bay. You watch the team file off the truck, shedding their heavy gear and recapping about the recent call. After a minute you spot Buck and his group.

“So, what's with you and Y/N?” Hen asks.

“What do you mean?” He hums, tossing his jacket over his shoulder.

“You’re like attached by the hip!” Chim jokes.

“You guys together?” Eddie pesters nudging Bucks shoulder.

“Huh? What? Nonono, she has been my best friend since forever! Like a second sister!” He defends himself. That felt like a kick to your gut. Suddenly, your stomach swirled with lost hope. A gloss film spread across your eyes, but you tilted your head up to rid the tears.

After the team put all their stuff away, Buck spots you in a similar spot to where he left you. He gestures you to make your way down to him. You sluggishly trot down the stairs, approaching him.

“I thought you woulda left.”

“I forgot my phone back at your place, I wanted to call an uber.”

“You could have taken my car! But m’sorry, I hope you were able to entertain yourself.”

“It was no problem.” You shrugged.

“You good “Y/NN?” He questioned, voice laced with concern.

In return, you nod offering your best smile. “Just jetlagged.” You lied.

“Here i'll get you an uber. I'm on call for a few more hours and I'll be home ASAP.” He smiled, opening the app on his phone.

You sprawled out against Bucks couch, flicking through the channels on tv. But you are too lost in your head to decide on a show. Not only did you realize your feelings for Buck but how could you have been so foolish to think he thought of you that day? He is a jacked firefighter with all the gorgeous LA girls at his disposal. You were just next door neighbor Y/N.

Buck arrives back at the apartment a few hours later, exhausted but grinning when he sees you sprawled on the couch.

“Y/N, you here?” he calls out, dropping his bag by the door.

“Yeah, on the couch.,” you reply, sitting up, though your voice lacks its usual spark.

He notices. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You hesitate, but the events of the day are still fresh. He tosses a pillow off the couch, making room for himself, plopping down next to you. Finally, you blurt out, “Why did you say that to them?”

Buck freezes, confused. “Say what?”

“That I’m like a second sister to you,” you snap, the words spilling out before you can stop them.

Buck’s brows knit together. “Because that’s what you are! What’s wrong with that?”

The emotional dam breaks. “Because I’m not your sister, Buck! I flew across the country to be here—to be with you. Do you even realize how much you mean to me? And to hear you say that…” You trail off, your voice cracking.

He steps closer, his voice softening. “Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that. I just—”

“You just don’t see me the way I see you,” you cut him off, tears threatening to spill. “And that’s fine, Buck. But I can’t keep pretending this is enough.”

Buck’s jaw tightens, and his frustration rises. “You think I don’t care about you? I care about you more than anything—maybe too much. That’s why I said it, okay? Because if I lose you, I don’t know what I’d do!”

His words hit you like a freight train, and the room goes silent except for your uneven breathing.

“Then stop saying things like that,” you whisper.

Buck stares at you, his chest heaving. “You have no idea how hard it was to be that far away from you. And now to be this close to you and not—”

“Not what?” you challenge, stepping closer.

His restraint snaps. “This,” he whispers, and in one fluid motion, he cups your face and crashes his lips against yours.

The kiss is searing, all pent-up frustration and years of unspoken feelings spilling over. Your hands tangle in his hair as you pull him closer, melting into him as though the world outside doesn’t exist.

When you finally break apart, both of you are breathless, his forehead resting against yours, the only sound being you struggling to catch your breath.

“I’ve loved you for so long, Y/N. It killed me to leave you.” he admits, his voice hoarse.

Your heart swells, and a small smile tugs at your lips. “Took you long enough to say it Buckley.”

He pulls you into another hug, his strong arms wrapping around you tightly like he’s afraid to let go. “So…does this mean you’re not leaving anytime soon?”

“Not unless you want me to,” you tease, your voice lighter now.

Buck leans back, his eyes meeting yours. “I don’t want you to go. Ever.”

“You’re stuck with me, Buck,” you murmur, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“Good,” he says, pressing a kiss to your hair.

[astonmartinii]

fatherhood looks good on you | george russell social media au

pairing: george russell x fem albon reader

there comes a point in the relationship where you take it to the next level

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

- part of the brother's best friend series -

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, landonorris and 783,409 others

tagged: georgerussell63

yourusername: looking so good i want to give you a baby

view all comments

user1: WHAT

user2: we really be saying anything on the internet these days

alexalbon: SHUT THE FUCK UP THE LITERAL ONLY RULE OF THIS RELATIONSHIP WAS THAT YOU KEEP THIS SHIT TO YOURSELVES

yourusername: gosh a girl can't have baby fever in peace these days

alexalbon: unless that baby is coming by stork you can put that talk on hold real fast

yourusername: just because lily is busy does not mean you have to take it out on me and george

georgerussell63: alex is it illegal for a man to be handsome?

alexalbon: if it's illegal to be handsome, you'd have the cleanest record known to man

yourusername: STOP RIGHT THERE DIDN'T YOU KNOW THAT LYING IS A SIN

alexalbon: i'm not going to say YOUR boyfriend is hot, no.

yourusername: just because i got in there first 🙄

user3: i don't think she's serious but also george with a baby is just too cute not to happen

user4: george is the perf instagram boyf like he's so ready to pose

landonorris: well that definitely is something we all want to know

yourusername: i know you would LOVE to know ALL the details norris

georgerussell63: she's never going to let your crush go lando, you gotta just hold it

landonorris: i was THIRTEEN

yourusername: you don't love me anymore? 😕

landonorris: i don't know why i always get in these arguments with you

user5: i love how george just instigates things for y/n lmao

user6: your boyfriend should always support your mess

liked by yourusername

georgerussell63

liked by lewishamilton, alexalbon and 1,209,458 others

tagged: yourusername

georgerussell63: fatherhood is a different beast

view all comments

user8: alright i am so confused

user9: there's no way y/n can actually be pregnant i saw her down at least three pornstar martinis in hospitality this weekend

alexalbon: this better be a joke or i'm gonna kick you so hard you get a free non-reversible vasectomy

yourusername: stop the violence!

alexalbon: THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR GLEE REFERENCES

yourusername: someone is channelling some serious sue vibes right now

georgerussell63: let it be known i like my reproductive systems the way they are

alexalbon: that's kind of the point of a threat, you aren't supposed to want it

yourusername: he likes threats if they come from the right person

alexalbon: i am about one more comment away from knocking down your hotel room door and throwing george from the balcony

yourusername: and deprive our child from a father... alex i expected better from you

alexalbon: that's it i'm on my way

georgerussell63: @mercedesamgf1 PLEASE PROTECT ME I AM PRECIOUS CARGO

user10: these bitches got me actually combing through tiktoks and hospitality menus to see if y/n was actually drinking

user11: i'm gonna be real angry if this is all a big joke

user12: i know kimi antonelli is young but this is NAWT the way to announce him for 2025

charles_leclerc: guys i need you to spell everything out i am confused

georgerussell63: no can do charles you gotta follow the breadcrumbs just like everyone else

yourusername: it's right there sharl

charles_leclerc: actually alex, wait, i'm coming with you these hoes are annoying me

landonorris: don't forget me

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, maxverstappen1 and 1,409,556 others

tagged: georgerussell63

yourusername: our baby is here!

view all comments

user15: A CAT?

user16: i just knew george russell would be a ragdoll girl

georgerussell63: they were right i AM a girl dad

yourusername: finally dilf status

georgerussell63: a title i do not take lightly

yourusername: i can confirm libido has gone UP since becoming parents!

landonorris: shut THE FUCK UP

yourusername: you'll understand in time lando

georgerussell63: you just found yourself at the bottom of the babysitting list

landonorris: i don't want to look after it

yourusername: IT? IT? HOW DARE YOU?

georgerussell63: she can hear you lando that's so disrespectful :(

landonorris: ??? i'm not saying sorry to a cat over instagram comment

georgerussell63: expect the same courtesy when i take you out first corner next weekend

user17: i fear that was not a threat but a promise from george

user18: it's kinda hot

liked by yourusername

alexalbon: NEW ALBON PETS LORE AND NONE OF YOU TOLD ME

yourusername: ella can't wait to meet the gang

alexalbon: no offence but ella is kinda a shit name

yourusername: short for mozzarella

alexalbon: i take it back

georgerussell63: cause she's the lil pearl of our life

alexalbon: i love her already

user19: so we went through all this tomfoolery for a cat? a cat called mozzarella?

user20: you have to agree it's iconic

alexalbon

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 889,304 others

tagged: georgerussell63 & yourusername

alexalbon: i knew @albon_pets would get george at some point

view all comments

user22: i love how alex became the chill guy again after it was revealed he was not yet an uncle

georgerussell63: hard on the yet

alexalbon: too soon george

user23: the albon pets signature of approval is a bigger sign that george is in the gamily than if he actually proposed to y/n

user24: they've got a baby now he's an albon

yourusername: horsey is going to kick off over having to share george with me and mozzie

albon_pets: bring it on - horsey

yourusername: alex i'm not arguing with you pretending to be horsey, this ain't roscoe and lewis

lewishamilton: rude

roscoelovescoco: meanie

yourusername: did you just call me mean as your dog?

lewishamilton: you were extra mean

yourusername: fine lets let mozzie and roscoe scrap it out at silverstone - she's got the sass of both me and george btw x

lewishamilton: stay AWAY FROM MY DOG

user25: the merc garage gonna be a whole petting zoo at silverstone i can't

user26: you wanna catch up with red bull? sell meet and greet tickets to the petting zoo

maxverstappen1: this is my official invitation to a play date with jimmy and sassy

yourusername: WE'LL BE THERE

maxverstappen1: is mozzarella civilised?

georgerussell63: of course my child has manners?

maxverstappen1: you crash into people all the time, i had to check

georgerussell63

liked by alexalbon, landonorris and 896,045 others

tagged: yourusername

georgerussell63: all of the family here for the home race

view all comments

user27: y/n wearing mozzarella in a baby harness i need to be put down

user28: that really is their child oh my

yourusername: make our baby proud georgie

georgerussell63: anything for you two xx

alexalbon: why do i never get these nice comments

yourusername: they're transmitted through our genes x

yourusername: also george more important 👍🏻

alexalbon: i'm literally your brother? your flesh and blood?

yourusername: george cuter

georgerussell63: can't argue with that

alexalbon: well of course he is this ain't alabama. (sorry logan)

logansargent: i'm from florida?

yourusername: even worse, my condolences

georgerussell63: can we get back to talking about how dashing i am?

yourusername: yes!

alexalbon: NO. SAY GOOD LUCK Y/N

yourusername: good luck y/n

alexalbon: what if i crash and you never said good luck, think about it y/n

yourusername: good luck alex (you're an asshole for weaponising the sport (and you being shit at it))

user29: i think i had about three strokes trying to follow this argument

user30: poor logan is just a victim of the albons at this point

landonorris: have a baby and forget about the rest of us, i see how it is

yourusername: you will never measure up to mozzie lando i hope you know that

georgerussell63: what y/n means is that i love my friends, but a child is a gift from god

landonorris: it's a cat. she can't even talk

yourusername: and yet she makes better points than you, makes you think

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, landonorris and 834,019 others

tagged: georgerussell63

yourusername: fatherhood looks good on you

view all comments

user31: mozzarella is so big already 🥹

user32: maybe i'm worse than them cause i'm attached to mozzie as well

georgerussell63: no one else i'd rather be cat parents to

yourusername: you're such a romantic

georgerussll63: such a pleasure to take this next step with the love of my life

yourusername: i love you more

georgerussell63: not possible

alexalbon: you being gross about mozzie was better than what ever the fuck this is

yourusername: @lilymunhe does he not treat you right?

lilymunhe: he's a romantic really, he's just exhausting the protective big brother act until george finally proposes

alexalbon: sue me

maxverstappen1: still waiting on the play date ...

yourusername: monaco?

maxverstappen1: done

yourusername: jimmy, sassy and ella will be like the charlie's angles reincarnated

georgerussell63: can't wait for you to see her IMPECCABLE manners

maxverstappen1: okay princess george

yourusername: hey only i can call george princess

maxverstappen1: you keep that to yourself

user33: disappointed that with all the tomfoolery around mozzie that there was no maternity photoshoots

yourusername: oh do not give me a challenge...

fin.

note: NEW SERIES ALERT? i'll create a masterlist after i post this. i hope you enjoyed, this one is more of a tame brother's best friend take but dw they can get more beefy and more sassy - send me any pairings you might like to see! thanks for reading x

[occasionalsnippets]

hello author!

I’m a totally different, definitely not the anon who sent the previous post!

So…out of curiosity…if fd reader was filling in for robin ( I assume this is pre- red robin-or would reader act as a double for red as well?)

and they got sucked into another universe…

what kind of shenanigans would occur?

also while I am definitely not the previous anon, I’d like to mention that the fd series has a new film coming out next year it’s a little different!

A/n: sorry kinda messy because I got my wisdom teeth removed

Taglist: @dragondevinity, @lonely-star2044, @sheep-from-rad, @ilxandra, @thethingwiththefeathers, @star-wars-lycanwing-bat, @sackofsadstuff, @zonked-times, @paastaboi, @venfia, @fantasy-angelo, @linaisadream

---

Getting dropped through a portal and landing in the middle of a fight isn’t great. Fortunately, you're dressed for the occasion since you’re filling in as Robin. Unfortunately, your comms are dead. Fully dead. Dead enough that there isn't even a trace of static to be heard.

It could have been worse, you think as you help Nightwing (alternate universe? Probably alternate universe Nightwing, he doesn't seem to recognize you) clear out a group of goons. At least you're in Gotham and at least you didn't land directly in the path of the batmobile while someone was driving it or something.

Nightwing is wary of you and your supposed help, at least, until you get a moment a tell him the code for alternate universe situations because of course, there’s a code for everything.

(Code for time travel, code for alternate universes, code specifically for family, etc, etc. You leave all those codes up to Batman to decide.)

He doesn’t totally relax, obviously, but he’s willing to take down all the goons before focusing on you.

You're clearly bat-trained, have bat-gear and would look like a carbon copy of Robin if Tim was currently Robin and not Damian. It isn't difficult to believe you are a dimension traveller (you aren't the first and likely won't be the last either), especially with the obvious portal you hopped out of.

And well, things should be okay if you’ve got the family code tagged along with the standard code, right?

Either way, you and Nightwing end up going to the batcave. There’s some back and forth banter, you ask about who’s around and find out that it’s basically everyone you remember from the comics in their own role. Their universe is a bit ahead of yours it seems.

“D’s not allowed to be Robin until he’s more than 4 apples tall,” you tell Nightwing. By 4 apples tall, you mean 4 apples on the height chart you bought to mark Damian’s growth.

"4 apples tall," he mouths, delighted.

Dick had reacted the same way when you put the chart up. Damian had been livid.

The batcave is every bit as dark and cave-y as you remember it to be. Batman is there. So is Red Robin. And Spoiler. It's still early in the night so everyone else is probably still doing patrol.

Being interrogated (kind of) is interesting. It would be more effective if you hadn't seen similar songs and dances hundreds of times. Plus, Batman isn't being too harsh about it. It might be because you're Robin, because you're family.

The edges of your domino mask are peeling off. It always feels like you never put enough glue.

Well, you might as well reveal yourself. With the retrieval of the glue solvent, removal of the mask and a quick run of your hand through your hair, you could consider yourself off duty.

“Are you a girl???”

“Congrats on your top surgery.”

“Congrats on your bottom surgery.”

Hilarious. You laugh softly and ask, “Do you guys think I’m Tim?”

Something discordant ripples through everyone. You thought it was obvious you weren't Tim but well... You smile and hide your teeth.

"I'm (Y/n) Drake, nice to meet you."

You’re pretty sure that your universe will figure some way to get you back so you tell Batman that if you haven’t disappeared by the time 48 hours have passed, he should probably contact a magic user to get you back.

No one is going to bed apparently. It’s Sunday tomorrow. They’re not technically the family you know so you don’t say anything about pulling an all nighter.

There are some fascinating follow-up one-on-one conversations afterwards once they get past the "Tim's older sibling who doesn't exist".

Dick mentions it’s a bit odd to see you as Robin. You’re technically the oldest person to have ever been Robin as everyone grew out of it (died in it, got fired, etc) and got their own costume before they hit 18.

You point out it's not really your costume and that you only really fill in when you have to. He tells you you're still part of the legacy. You're still Robin. You... don't really know what to say to that.

When he asks you how you got involved, you shrug and say you just followed Tim. "He's my brother. What was I supposed to do? Leave him?"

Anyways, interesting conversations between two people who have been eldest daughter syndrome-d. Maybe things are better in your universe where you're there to ease the emotional load of the family but it shouldn't have been your responsibility. It shouldn't have been Dick's either.

You end up telling Jason that the Joker is dead in your universe. More specifically, that he "had gone missing a bit after Red Hood arrived in Gotham". You don't say exactly how it happened but he can probably infer that you had something to do with it.

The two of you probably bond a bit over your paper thin morals. After all, when you aren't playing at being Robin, you don't have to follow Bruce's moral code either.

Bruce is okay. The one here isn't horrendously terrible or anything but there were probably more bumps along the way. You straight up tell him to start seeing a therapist. His nest of birdies are his children first before they are his vigilante partners. He should make that clear before he makes another blunder, fails to apologize, and has to try to mend his relationships again.

He asks if you’re one of his children. You laugh until your ribs hurt.

Damian asks why you (and your Tim) are still Robin. You’re reasonably confused. Dick had informed him that your Damian is with the Waynes already yet has not been made Robin.

You aren’t exactly aware of how this Damian (or comic Damian for that matter) became Robin but you just tell him, “There’s no rush to pass on the mantle. Besides, we’re a couple years behind you guys.”

"You coddle him." "He's literally like, 9."

He'll figure it out someday once he gets past the being raising in an assassin cult thing. You ask what pets he has to derail him.

Things are easier with Cass, as they always have been. She takes one look at you and definitively declares "Family". You smile, ruffle her hair, the same as you would with your Cass, and she drags you away to talk to Steph.

Steph cracks a joke about your presence evening out the gender ratio in the household. She's also on the phone with Barbara so you say a quick hi before being swept into the next conversation.

You and Tim. Tim and you.

It’s been years since Jack and Janet Drake have died. Years upon years since Tim was a little boy waiting by the phone for his parents to call and tell him they’re coming home. He thinks some part of him still longs for them, despite it all.

And now, there is you. His sibling who never existed.

You remind him of his mother, of Janet. You’re as sharp as he remembers her being but you’re so terribly warm and patient and casually affectionate in ways he still isn't used to. Perhaps you're how Janet would've been like if she had loved him more.

You and Tim probably have the most to talk about out of everyone, especially about the early days from before he became Robin. Throughout it, he finds out just how much you've involved yourself in the other Tim's life. There's something sad in your expression when the two of you talk.

He hasn't needed someone to protect or raise him for a very long time but still, it must have been nice to have you, to have someone to trust and love him unconditionally.

For what it's worth, you tell him you're proud of him. Even if you don't exist in this universe, he's still your itty bitty tiny little brother.

Something bubbles in his chest. He thinks it might just be jealousy for the version of him that has your unconditional love. The version that has everything that you could give him.

Alfred brings down food for you to eat. Despite the fact that you don't belong, he insists on calling you "Master (Y/n)". Some things never change you suppose.

Everyone notes that it's very very strange to see you be so familiar with everyone when none of them know you. It's like they're all stumbling over a step in their life, fumbling in their interactions with you, uncertain about what to do.

Duke wanders into the Batcave in the morning and finds you at the batcomputer, still wearing your Robin costume. You get one look at him and go, "Ah they didn't tell you about me did they."

You give him a quick rundown ("I'm from an alternate universe, yeah I showed up last night, I'm Tim's older sibling, I'm only a placeholder Robin, no I don't really know you but I think I've seen you around in my universe before") before he leaves for day-patrol.

He's cool. You'll keep an eye out for him when you get back.

True to your expectation, less than a day after your arrival, a portal opens up beside you. Everyone's in the batcave and are able to see you off as Tim (your Tim) reaches out to bring you home.

You're wrapped up in hugs immediately upon return. So clingy, you think as you say, "I'm home."

Tim, who's buried by your side, mumbles, "Welcome home."

As for you filling in as Red Robin later on, it might be better to discuss it chronologically with Batman getting lost in the timestream and the no good very bad follow up conversation about who should wear the cowl that somehow ends up with you filling in as Nightwing.