#have already thought if to try to do less ~heavy stuff

[plethorawrites]

How the Batboys would react to finding out and dealing with you self harming/having severe depression.

TW: Mentions of cuts, blood, suicidal thoughts, incorrect use of pills, sort of implied eating disorders.

Please don't read if this could upset you in any way.

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Bruce:

The first time he notices is also the first time you spend the night. The lights were dark and you were both a bit buzzed after downing several glasses of champagne to endure a boring event he invited you to as an excuse to see you. Of course he was more concerned with kissing the inside of your thighs than noticing the little healed scars on them.

He notices them the next morning though, when the sun is streaming through the window and you get up to find your clothes while assuming he's asleep. He wasn't. He saw the marks. The scars. He refrained from saying a word about them, waiting weeks for you to open up about them on your own terms. He could see they were healed so he wasn't terribly worried at that moment.

When you finally told him, you said you'd been clean for months. He had no reason to suspect you would start again.

But you did.

He didn't know the exact day, or the specific reason, all he knew is that you stopped wearing shorts to bed and stopped letting him leave the lights on to see you when you were intimate. You stopped smiling as often, too.

Of course, being a detective, he can tell when you start getting lethargic, not from work or stress but simply life itself. He hears when your words have less meaning, and your expressions are false. He makes it his mission to not let you fall into the spiral any more than you already have.

You might not want to tell him you're hurting yourself but he'd be damned if he didn't do whatever he could to make you stop. That started by holding you tighter at night so you couldn't sneak off to the bathroom to cut, he'd ask you to visit him at work, insist on every meal being at a restaurant so you didn't even have time to try to hurt yourself. And of course, he helps with the tasks you start struggling with, but pretends he doesn't notice.

He just says "Can I practice braiding your hair so I can help Cassandra?" and use it as a chance to make sure you don't start letting your hair tangle.

He even makes the braid a bit crooked even though he can French braid perfectly, just to sell it. He'll wash it, too, claiming it's: "A good excuse to spend time together." after a long day.

He just wants to make sure it's not getting greasy. He can see the guilt on your face when you sit in the tub, staring at the wall. You wanted to tell him to stop, that you could wash your own hair. But you probably couldn't. It felt like too much work and you just wanted to sink underneath the water of the tub for a few minutes of peace. He kept you upright though, kissing the back of your shoulder, the side of your neck, your cheek, making you hum.

You weren't able to feel much, emotionally speaking, but you could feel gratitude and love.

When he notices you skipping meals because you can't drag yourself to the kitchen or bother to cook, he will. He'll make anything, even if you change your mind about what sounds good and make him cook six different dishes before eventually accepting one of them. He doesn't care. He just wants you to eat. The second you show the slightest bit of interest in something, anything, it's yours. You make a comment about the beach sounding nice, the next thing you know he's taken the day off work and is driving you there with the top of a convertible down.

You say you kind of miss one of your old hobbies— be it painting or crochet, it doesn't matter what, the next day the nicest stuff for you to get back into it arrives. Fresh paints, massive canvases or imported yarn and crystal hooks. He watches, intently when you start to focus on something you like again, the heavy ache in his heart subsiding when he gets to show enthusiasm about your project when it's done.

You start holding him again at night, your face buried in his chest instead of sleeping facing the wall. One night you slide into bed wearing shorts and he can see your scars, red ones among the old faded pale ones from when you first met.

He knows they'll heal too in time. Just like you have.

---

Dick: He doesn't realize there's anything wrong several months into dating you until he catches you taking some pills when he was walking back into the room and later searched up the name, figuring out they're antidepressants.

He can't believe he didn't see it sooner and hates that you were always putting on a fake smile with him. He wants you to talk about it, but understands that it's hard for you too and your every attempt to open up to him ends with you in tears or walking out in frustration because the words won't form.

He suggests (very strongly) that you see a therapist and after some gentle coaxing, you agree. He sits in the car the entire time waiting for you and when you come out, numb for a few minutes as you sit there in silence before sobbing uncontrollably for the 20 minutes in the parking lot. He gets you whatever you want after— ice cream, cheesecake, brownies. Whatever you're craving.

He takes you every week, sometimes multiple times a week. He never complains and he's ALWAYS there. He'll wake up early, even if he barely slept. He'll skip family lunch, he'll rush out of a bank robbery just shouting for his brothers to handle it without him. It doesn't matter what, he'll be there.

He's taken to heavy positive affirmations, as well. He puts sticky notes up in the bathroom with smiley faces for whenever you brush your teeth or put on moisturizer. There are little hearts and words of encouragement on the front of the fridge and inside of it too for when you manage to crave a snack. Hopefully something healthy like fruit, but even if it's junk food, it's better than an empty stomach.

Every morning he wakes you up and tells you you're beautiful and he's grateful to have you.

He likes to remind you not to push yourself as well. "If you just manage to wash your hair, you'll have done something" and "If that's too hard, I'll help you make the bed." But also..."If you don't do anything at all today, you still survived. That alone is difficult, but you're doing it."

Every night he lays it on even thicker because he knows it gets harder at night. "I'm so proud of you for making it through another day." And... "I know it sucks right now but I promise I'll help you get through this." And... "Just take it one day at a time."

When you get homework from your therapist— to do 3 hard tasks over one week, make a list of every negative and positive thought to see them out loud and deduce why you have them, physical exercise—he does it with you. No matter how foolish or seemingly simple it is.

Your therapist told you to do something you struggle with? Done. He'll stand behind you while you do the dishes and help you dry.

You need to get something from a store that's dozens of miles away? Road trip. He'll buy the snacks and take turns driving so you don't het stressed out burn out.

You're told to get some physical exercise? He'll be your partner for whatever kind you want to do. Jogging in the park, keeping a slower pace than usual for you, practicing on rings while you climb the stairmaster—he falls, because he's distracted by your ass. But that's besides the point.

When you start to show signs of feeling better, that therapy is working, he's elated. And after several months and things are better, much better, you tell him whenever you're feeling off. Whenever that nagging feeling comes back over you. You guys work through it then and there to keep it from getting bad again.

Though sometimes, when he's leaving for work, you'll pout and say you feel sad just to get him to stay. You both know it's not a depressed feeling. You just don't want him to leave and he'll indulge you. "Oh, well, if that's the case, I'll just have to stay in bed with you until you feel better."

---

Jason: He's busy. Always. But that didn't mean he was oblivious. Yet, that's exactly how he felt when he realized you'd been abusing your medicine. He knew after the first few dates that you were on medication for chronic depression and he was more than understanding about it. Millions of people suffered from it, himself occasionally included.

But when he's laying in bed and catches you sneaking into the bathroom to take three more pills than you're supposed to, he's caught off guard. Then you slide down to the floor, sitting crisscrossed, making small cuts on your thighs, wincing in pain the entire time. It takes every ounce of self control not to jump out of bed and rip the blade from your hand. He contemplates it, he really does. But that would just make things worse. So he waits.

It keeps him up all night, though he pretends to sleep. And in the morning, you're back out of bed, taking more and sliding back in bed, pretending to wake up just like him.

He blames himself entirely.

He thinks he should have been better, done more, noticed something that made it better. It was his job to support you and protect you and he had failed and that killed him in ways that seemed unimaginable.

After an incredibly difficult conversation where he confesses to knowing you've been filling scripts you don't need and taking more than necessary, you're both an emotional mess. But he assures you he's not leaving or angry, just scared for you. He wants to help but needs you to let him.

He absolutely dedicates himself to keeping you away from anything even remotely dangerous.

The knives in the kitchen? Gone.

Even the butter knives are plastic now.

The razors in the bathroom? Thrown out in a trashcan outside so you couldn't find them.

Even the little blade in the pencil sharpener is taken out.

He won't let you have your pill bottles either, at least not at first. He makes sure you take them everyday, morning and night, then after several weeks starts to let you handle them by yourself.

He still sneaks out of bed to count them and make sure you weren't taking more than prescribed. He insists on being the one to wrap your arms, cleaning them to make sure they don't get infected. And wiping your legs as well. He has to remind himself not to squeeze them too hard, the way he wants to.

While holding you at night he makes sure not to hurt them, even though he wants to hold you much tighter to comfort himself as reassurance you're alright. He listens, late at night when you're whispering to avoid crying. When you explain the feeling it gave you. He knows it.

Once they heal and he can hold you tighter, not as afraid of hurting you by squeezing your thighs the way he likes to. He starts kissing them each night, making sure you know they're not embarrassing or shameful.

He's got scars on most of his body; you were the one to teach them to appreciate them. If he could return the favor, he would. A thousand times over.

He tells you the same things you told him. "You made it through."

---

Tim: When you tell Tim, and by tell I mean confess after he figured it out on his own, you're surprised to find that he doesn't have much of a reaction immediately. He stays quiet, hums a little, nods along. He never interrupts but you see his eyes glazing over a bit, the way they do when the gears start turning in his head. He knew, of course, that you had depression.

He knew you hurt yourself, not in the traditional way of cutting or attempting suicide, but in much subtler ways, like forcing yourself to finish a meal even though you're full and your stomach hurts, taking boiling hot showers that leave your skin red and raw practically painful to even touch from how dry it is, making yourself stay up late and function on the fewest hours of sleep possible.

You purposely made life harder for yourself and for the most part, didn't even realize it. He did, though. What he didn't realize was the amount of medicine you'd tried, to the point you felt none of them worked, the amount of therapists and psychiatrists you had seen, the level of depression you had truly sunk to before. It hurt him to realize once you started opening up. He wanted to make that pain go away. So, he researched. Constantly.

He wants to know every single thing that can cause depression, the statistics of self harm leading to suicide, the effectiveness of different treatments or facilities. He knows every antidepressant, their side effects, their manufacturers, and dosages. He suggests inpatient care for you, but absolutely refuses to send you to someplace like Arkham.

Instead, he finds the best of the best, way out of the city, where the entire staff passed his background check, the facility was up to date on every code possible, and the rules seemed relaxed enough to let you feel like yourself while also making sure you're safe. He's allowed to visit and does so as soon as possible, even manages to get extra hours in the night. You have the best of care there, too, he knows because he can see it on your face every time he's there.

The food is wonderful, the private room you have is nice (even if you miss his warmth at night), the activities they make you do remind you of the hobbies you used to love before they became unbearable. Even therapy sessions, always private because Tim knew you wouldn't want to speak about it in a group, are rather helpful.

When you get out after a few weeks, he's right there, waiting, like always. And he's got the biggest smile because he can see immediately the light back in your eyes that he missed so much. He keeps up with some of the tactics you learned or hobbies you started while there, gladly sitting on the floor with you while you do paper mache.

He always makes sure you know you're not weak for needing help and if you ever feel like you need to go back, even just for a week, or weekend, he'll be there for you. Just like always.

---

(Aged up. I imagine you both in LOA)

Damian: It didn't take a genius to know you were a miserable person. Most people in the league of assassins were. He rather liked your level of misery, usually. It was cynical, with a touch of wit and dark humor that always made him feel seen.

It wasn't until he caught sight of a few scars on your calf that he didn't recognize that he started to realize you were more miserable than he had originally thought. You tried to play it off, claiming you got hurt in a sparring match. But that was a lot and he knew it. Because A) you never lost. And B) the cut was at an angle a sword wouldn't be able to reach unless you were the one holding it.

You clearly didn't want to talk about it, so he wouldn't make you. He was always taught that emotions were weak and even though he didn't fully believe it as he used to, he still isn't big on a lot of sentimentality. Which is fine, because you aren't either.

He still keeps a quiet, very close eye on you. Maybe you noticed, maybe you didn't. He wasn't sure. He didn't care either way. He was worried and with your recent behavior, he felt he had every right to be. You started putting in less effort during training, if you even showed up at all. He'd find you on the balcony at night, leaning your head against the railing and staring at the gardens with a blank expression.

Even the things he knew you loved— your favorite foods, the music you liked to listen to on a record player while you got ready for bed. It stopped appealing to you. The meticulous way you'd fix your hair before bed every single night abruptly stopped, too. You simply fell asleep with it as is and woke up with it tangled. You still held him at night, but it felt less like an embrace for the both of you and more like you were clinging to him like a life line.

He pays extra close attention and anytime he isn't allowed to be by your side, he makes sure someone else is. It's hard to keep you away from sharp objects, given nearly everything around them was a weapon, but he tries to get you to vent your rage by cutting training dummies and not yourself.

He also takes you to the quieter, more secluded wing, into an empty room with pillows on the floor. He makes you sit with him and meditate, which he knows is hard at first, boring and you don't have the most energy, but he holds your hand, his fingers pressed to your pulse to make sure you're listening when he tells you to take a deep breath in and think— not of what you're grateful for, like some might suggest. No. Instead of asking you what you want to live for, he asks you what you can't die without. The grudges you're holding, the projects you haven't finished, the people who are just waiting to see you fail. He won't let you let them win.

And it works. That passion and drive slowly comes back with his help and support at your side, doing your hair for you at night and making sure someone brought you a meal three times a day even if he wasn't around to make sure you ate. Your need to be the best and spite anyone who thinks you aren't returns after a while.

One night he finds you training alone, sweat dripping from your brow, your scars both won in battle and self inflicted on display. Instead of interrupting, he simply watches, admiring your form which had improved since you started picking up your sword more often. He loved watching you find your spirit again.

[moonyysgirl]

And you thought you didn't like me huh?- Remus Lupin x Reader

pairing; dealer!remus lupin x fem!reader summary; remus is the school's dealer, you go and buy from him after you and your boyfriend broke up, and, to your surprise, you find comfort in him cw; smut, modern au, loser!remus, dealer!remus, jealous!remus

You caught on him at the ring of the bell. He was smoking in the parking lot, leaning on his car. You already knew him, he was the school's dealer. Your friends always said he was a loser, a stoner. Your boyfriend thought that too, always saying people like him were miserable, but that wasn't your boyfriend anymore, and after all the stuff that happened, you just wanted to smoke, turn off your brain, and forget about all that fucking story.

You waited for the parking lot to empty before you went up to him. He was wearing dark jeans, an heavy sweater, a jacket. He stood alone in the parking lot, smoking a cig, as a light rain started falling. He noticed you, he looked up squinting, his wet hair covering his forehead, the cig resting between his rosy lips.

"Hi" it was the first time you spoke to him in months. He kept looking at you, not greeting you back. It was your first time buying weed, and you wasn't sure what to say, but you couldn't care less about Remus Lupin's opinion, so you built up the courage and finally spoke "I wanted to buy some stuff".

He nodded slowly "yeah, I kinda figured." You rolled your eyes "Can you help me or not?" he took another drag "I guess so. What do you want? Pills? Coke?" you looked at him, trying to figure out if he was joking, it didn't seem like he was "Of course not! I just wanted some weed!" you said in exasperation. Remus smiled "of course you do" he threw the cig away "Okay, so, let's see what I have here" he said opening the car door.

You got in the car with him, sitting in the passenger's seat. The car was messy, but it somehow smelled nice. Remus opened the dashboard and started looking through little orange bottles of pills. "Ugh, it's not here" he mumbled checking his pockets and backpack. "Yeah, I have no shit in here, I gotta pick it up from home".

You sighed, and you were about to tell him to forget it, your hand reaching for the door handle, when he started the car and drove off. You looked at the school disappearing in the distance. Remus turned the radio on, a song by David Bowie's started diffusing from the speakers. "Fuck! It's hot in here" he took off his jacket and threw it on the backseats. His hair were sticking to the sides of his head, but he didn't seem to care, so you ignored it.

"Here we are" he said pulling into the driveway of what you supposed to be his house. "So, how much do you want?" "Uhm, I don't really know actually" "just tell me how much you want to smoke" you sighed "uhm, not too much I guess?" "aight" he said before getting out of the car and shutting the door.

Your mind started wandering, and for a moment you felt like leaving, what were you doing there anyway? You didn't notice Remus coming back until he opened the door. "Okay, you're all set" he threw a little bag at you. You weighted it in your hands. It wasn't too heavy nor too light. "It's like 10 pounds, you can pay me whenever, just try to do it at some point" you grabbed a pair of bills from your bag. "Perfect" Remus folded the money in his pocket.

"Do I take you to school and you go home from there?" "Sure" you watched the city moving fast from the window. As Remus was pulling in the school parking lot you realized how stupid it all was. You didn't even know what to do with that weed.

You wet your lips "listen, it's my first time actually buying" you raised your voice, trying to speak over the music, Remus kept looking straight to the road "I can't even roll actually" you was torturing your fingers, feeling the blood flushing your face "so, can you like roll it for me?" Remus shrugged "sure, it's fine, whatever" "you can smoke too, if you want, I mean just to pay you back" "sure, why not".

He turned the car around and he went in reverse to exit the parking lot. "Wait...where are we going?" "We're not gonna smoke in the school parking lot, it's depressing". "Whatever" you thought to yourself, closing your eyes, letting him take you wherever he wanted as David Bowie's "changes" filled your ears.

The music cut off all of a sudden. You opened your eyes, Remus had stopped the car You looked around. You were parked in front of a cliff, the city lights shining in front of you. The sun was starting to set in the distance. You smiled to yourself.

"Give me the bag" Remus started lining up the rolling papers and filters. You gave the weed to him, and then you kept looking at the sun setting as he rolled a joint. He was faster than you thought.

"Do you want to light it?" he said putting the joint in front of your face. You shrugged "sure". You lit the joint and took a long drag. As the smoke started setting on your chest you felt your brain clouding up. Finally a break from all those thoughts.

You and Remus kept passing the joint for a while, and drag after drag thick clouds of white smoke started filling the car. By the time the spliff was over, you felt like a big weight had been lifted from your chest.

You started thinking about your boyfriend -well, ex-boyfriend, to be clear- what would he say? You, in Remus Lupin's old car, smoking weed with him. You giggled. Remus turned to you "What?" you shrugged, but you couldn't stop giggling, and soon you were full on laughing. Remus looked confused, but after some time, a smile was forming on his lips.

For a moment you could feel liquid warmth filling up your chest. The smoke was dissolving slowly. You lay down on your seat, your giggles getting fainter. You felt light-headed and for a second it was as you were watching yourself from outside.

"You're fun to hang out with" Remus spoke all of a sudden, you smiled "you too". You didn't know if he was actually high, but at that point you didn't care, you just felt happy. "I never expected to be in this situation" you said, your words feeling distant, you weren't used to smoking.

"Yeah, me neither, I thought you didn't like me or something" you shrugged "I did thought I didn't like you too, but that was only because my friends and my ex didn't like you that much". Remus smirked "yeah? and why's that?" "I don't know, I guess its cause they think you're weird, and a loser and that you deal and all that crap" "yeah, that's all true, but there's nothing wrong with being weird, and a loser, and selling stuff" you looked at him, "there's a lot wrong with it for them".

You didn't spoke for a while, then Remus broke the silence. "So...your ex huh?" "yep..." "what went wrong with that adorable angel boy you dated?" you smirked "like…everything really" you sighed, Remus smiled faintly looking in the distance.

"I wonder what he'd think, knowing I'm here getting high with you" you mindlessly mumbled looking outside "he would think you're a weird loser who hangs out with dealers" you looked at Remus smiling "yeah, that's all true, but I don't think there's something wrong with it" Remus snickered.

You stayed in silence for some time. Your mind started wandering again, and you found yourself thinking about your ex, thinking about how alienating it all was, being with him, you didn't belong there anyway.

You almost spoke, but then you closed your mouth again, Remus noticed "What" "it's nothing" "no, tell me" "it's stupid" "my favorite kind of stuff". You looked at him, he was smiling "really?" he nodded "go on, I'm listening" you sighed "I was just thinking about how I've been feeling more comfortable here with you than with that asshole for the last 18 months" he stayed silent "what a waste" you mumble.

Nobody spoke for some time, you turned to Remus. He was playing with his lighter. His honey curls fell messily on his half-lidded hazel eyes, his nose was covered in little freckles. His lips and cheeks were flushed. He looked warm.

"You're right" he finally spoke "about what" "it was such a waste" you sighed "yeah, I kinda had no choice if after all, like…that's the best I can aim at, at least I had something to do I guess" "why would you even say this" you shrugged "it's not like boys are crazy about me anyway, so I have to compromise".

You kinda regretted that last sentence, you hated talking about your thoughts to people, you were scared they'd think you were fishing for compliments, but you actually believed that. Remus shook his head "yeah no shit, you're not gonna find people that will actually appreciate you if you aim at those assholes".

Those words set slowly into your brain. You started feeling sad again. You did waste a shit ton of time, except there wasn't even a good reason for it apparently. You did everything wrong. You almost felt like crying, but you chewed on the inside of your cheek until you calmed yourself down.

"I can't stand girls like you" Remus mumbled to himself "well, thanks a lot!" you responded sarcastically. Remus sighed "don't take it personal, but it's so stupid to settle down for a douchebag like your ex when you're actually a thousand times more cool and you could have whoever" you laughed "yeah, right, I can obviously have anyone" "well, maybe not anyone but actually cool people" "as in?" Remus shrugged "I don't know, as in interesting weird people, cool people, like you".

Your heart skipped a beat. It was almost like you could actually feel Remus thoughts in that moment. Suddenly, you just knew. He was thinking about how close you were all of a sudden, and how anything could've happen between you. You were incredibly sure of it, cause you were thinking the exact same thing.

Butterflies started filling up your guts. Your brain felt fuzzy for the smoke. You were looking in front of you, the sun was finally disappearing behind the buildings. You felt Remus eyes on you, your breath hitched for a moment. You turned to him, you didn't want to speak, and you didn't want to think about how hard it would've been, to actually be with someone like him.

You just thought about the warmth of your body, and so you decided to go for it. You closed your eyes shut and reached over to him, lightly kissing the side of his lips, your heart beating out of your chest. Before you could do anything Remus' tongue was pressing on your lips, so you just caved in. He deepened the kiss, his lips were warm, they tasted like smoke, they were bitter.

He was rough with it, fast, almost desperate, and as you reached over to bury your hands in his hair, his hand slid under your sweater. You weren't wearing a bra, and his skin was cold against your warm body. His fingers brushed your breast, your breath hitched. He started groping your tits, his cold hands all over you, as you shivered and your skin covered in goosebumps, your nipples hardening, your head spinning.

"I bet that wanker didn't even know how to handle you" he whispered in your ear caressing you. Your ex did suck at that type of stuff, and every time you'd get intimate with him it was weird and uncomfortable. You wanted to cry again thinking about how you actually did everything wrong, everything. So you buried your hands deep, deeper in those locks, pushing his head close, closer to you, to stop the thoughts.

The kiss became sloppy, messy, and the sound of your breaths filled the car. You pushed Remus to his seat, climbing on top of him. He snickered "christ" you immediately blushed, but you couldn't bring yourself to care, cause you were high, your head was spinning and the feeling of his hands on your waist was heavenly. So you just kept making out with him, pressing yourself on his lap.

His neck was sweaty, his hair a mess. "Wait" he mumbled taking his sweater off and throwing it behind him, you took off your jacket too. You lift up his shirt, his body was sticky with sweat, but it made him hotter somehow. His abdomen was smooth, pointy, his hipbones sticking out, a light strand of hair disappearing in his pants. You wanted to merge with him.

He slid a hand under your skirt, you weren't wearing tights, and as his cold fingers pressed on the warmth of your soft thighs you got goosebumps again. He looked up to you, his hazel eyes asking for permission, you just nodded, and kissed him, cause you were scared, and embarrassed.

He moved your panties to the side, his fingers sliding between your folds: they were slender, cold, they made you squirm. You were soaking wet, and you could feel Remus smiling with cockiness on your lips. "So hot" he mumbled in your mouth, your cheeks burning with embarrassment and lust.

He started rubbing your clit, in agonizingly slow circles. You whimpered as he started picking his pace. You was feeling everything so intensely, and your body was melting. You hid in the crook of his neck, unable to hold the moans any longer.

"I knew it" he whispered "I knew that you were a freak" you bit your lip to hold a moan. His fingers locked in your hair, pulling you away from his neck. "Look at me" you were embarrassed, and painfully self aware, but you looked up at him.

You brushed his damp hair away from his forehead. He was actually far more beautiful than what he looked like usually, beneath those long messy hair, hiding in all those baggy clothes. You never noticed how handsome he was: his lips were swollen, slightly parted, flushed, his cheeks were red, his eyes bigger than ever, the hazel swallowed by the darkness of his dilated pupils. You inhaled his scent deeply, he smelled of smoke, some type of musky cologne and a faint scent of sweat.

You could feel his bulge pressing on your leg, and your hand was immediately reaching to his belt, but he grabbed your wrist "no, don't do anything" you looked at him in confusion, but he pressed his lips to yours, cursing under his breath as you whined in pleasure.

He was going faster and faster, and his touch started to feel rougher. Your brain was going blank, the warmth spreading throughout your entire body. He groped your tits roughly, making you whimper. He gathered your slick and shoved it inside you with two slender fingers, you let out a surprised moan, as he started going in and out slowly.

You moaned louder, throwing your head back, Remus smirked "he really had no idea how to treat you, did he?" the warmth was filling up your guts as he kept talking. "Keep going" you whimpered "greedy girl" he teased. His fingers were sliding in and out of you, his thumb drawing circles on your clit.

You felt the climax approaching, so you tried kissing his neck, wanting to hide in the crook of his neck again, but he stopped you "No, stop, I want to see you, look at me". You didn't want to look at him, but he was slowing down, and you really needed him to keep going, so you caved in and looked up at him, he was biting his lip, as he picked up the pace again.

"I wonder what they'd think" his eyes had darkened completely, a wolfish grin curving his lips "your ex and your friends, if they knew" you moaned, your hands tugging at his hair. "If they knew that you're here, getting fingerfucked by a fucking loser like me" he kissed your neck, biting it lightly, licking the bruises that were forming on the sensitive skin.

"What would they think, huh?" he looked up at you, breathing heavily "if they knew that you don't actually belong with them, but you belong here, with weird losers like me" your legs started shaking, your moans getting louder "and that you actually love to be here with weird losers like me, and that I can do things to you that he could only dream about".

You whimpered, "are you close?" you nodded "cum for me" he whispered in your ear, you closed your eyes "no, look at me, look at me while I make you cum" you opened your eyes, feeling a wave of pleasure taking over you, his fingers getting impossibly faster, your whole body burning with pleasure.

You cried out a moan "yeah, that's it, be a good girl and cum for me, make a mess on my fingers like the dirty little freak you are" those words sent you over the edge, your mind going blank. You came with a strangled cry, looking at his dark eyes, your legs shaking with pleasure.

His fingers pumped in and out of you a few more times, as you were coming down from your high. You closed your eyes as the pleasure overwhelmed you, a thousand times more intense because of the weed.

Remus kept you pressed on his lap, holding your waist steadily, his fingertips pressed on your soft skin. When you reopened your eyes Remus was flushed, and he was smiling "and you thought you didn't like me huh", you smiled back, pressing your lips on his.

[djcandiepaws]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ yandere! crossdresser x reader

summary: he wants you to try on some stuff he bought for you cw: none

post it notes: trying to push out more yan crossdresser content even if its ass

A heavy knock on the door echoes through the house. "Oh! My package must be here!" He rushes down the stairs to get the packages left at his door.

He quickly runs back to his room, packages in hand. "I have some stuff I want you to have!"

You change into the clothes and honestly it's very.. skimpy? Like it shows a lot of skin. It's a very short top with noodle straps and frills at the end. As for the shorts? It's very short, they don't even reach the beginning of your thigh. "Uh.. Why does it show so much skin?"

His face turns into a sad expression, "You don't think it's cute?" "No, no, it's very cute, don't get me wrong. It's just.. very showy is all.." You start to cover your stomach.

"Also, you said these clothes are for me. You do realize if I were to show up with these clothes in my parents house they'd incinerate me?" "How about you only wear them here? My parents won't mind, they are usually in their room anyway." He said while picking out a new outfit for you to wear.

As you kept trying on more and more outfits you realized.. Most of them are revealing, some are very short shorts, some are shirts that have a low v line to show off your cleavage, and some are even bras that fit perfectly to the t. Wait, how does he know your bra size?

Some of the less revealing stuff are crop tops, which wouldn't be bad until you factor in that the crop top is insanely short. The end of the crop top is literally up to your nipple. And actually some of the outfits are straight up lingerie.

Honestly, he was trying to send you a sign like "hey, I like you" but clearly it didn't get through because now it feels like she just thinks he's a creep.

"So, how do like the outfits?" He asked. "It's.. well, it's something!" "Hey.. Do you not like the outfits? I spent a lot of money buying them!"

"I don't hate them, they're just very revealing. I don't even know if I feel comfortable wearing them in general." You sigh out.

"I'll help you get comfortable wearing them don't worry. How about you wear them while you're over to try to get used to them? And you won't get in trouble since it's not like your parents are here." He exclaimed.

You wouldn’t want his money go to waste so ultimately you agree that yeah you’ll wear it around his house. Plus, while the stuff is revealing they are still very cute! "Uhh.. Sure. But some of them are legitimately strange. Like why is one of them lingerie?"

“You have such a divine body, you shouldn’t hide it.” He confesses but then realization sets in that it probably came out weird. "Uh, not in a weird way, I'm just saying!" It definitely did come out weird but to be honest you appreciate the compliment, "Aw, thank you!" You reply with a smile.

"Anyways! Take off the outfit I need to put it back in their boxes." He then started helping you take the clothes off. "I thought you wanted me to wear it?" "Yeah I do, but we got school tomorrow and it's already 5 pm, so I see no use in you wearing it not even for a full 24hrs." He sighed.

While you had your shirt off you noticed him staring. "Sorry it's just your body just.. gets me going, y'know?" Your eyes widened in shock. Does he even realize what he just said?!

"Platonically, of course!"

[toxicanonymity]

the condom.

Javi P x f!reader x Steve Murphy | 1k words | masterlist

WARNINGS: 18+ real nasty pwp. toxic mean javi, implied angst, heavy degradation, gaping, cumplay, dubcon breeding, daddy kink.

Javi gives you the old, “we were never official.”

“So I can fuck someone else, too?” You ask.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he tilts his head and gives you those big, condescending eyes. “you know I don't share, right?” He gently lifts your chin and chuckles at your scowl. “How's this," he offers. "Do what you want, and we’ll see what happens.”

“You just said you don't share,” you remind him.

“Maybe I do,” he shrugs. “Won't know unless you try it.” He smooths his mustache. “who knows “ he muses, “Maybe it'll turn me on.”

He takes your hand and puts it on the front of his jeans.

He's stiff.

“How many narcos could you take in one night?” he asks, and massages himself with your hand. “Take them two at a time?” His cock swells, tightening his already straining jeans.

“I’d never fuck a narco!” You protest.

“but you're talking like you want to,” he challenges.

“No I wasn't,” you shake your head. He tightens his hand around your jaw.

“Do it,” he challenges, then lowers his voice. “See if I want that dirty, used-up cunt.”

His fingers squeeze into the hollows of your cheeks and you open your mouth to accept his spit.

He elongates his torso as he gets his wallet out of his tight jeans. “Here,” he says as he opens it.

He tosses a strip of small foil packages to you.

Something you'd never seen him wear.

—-----

“How d’you think he’d feel if it was you?” You ask Steve, sitting on his knee after he's dried your tears.

He’d gotten you to laugh by musing about which narco you could fuck and where. It kept getting more detailed, and the chuckles became more sparse. “He could fold ya right in half, stuff ya like a turkey,” he’d finished with a low whistle, then got lost in his thoughts. “If ya can take it, that is,” he added in a low voice. His eyes scanned your body and he sucked in air through his nose as he moved his hand just an inch up your thigh. “Think ya can take a big ol’ cock, even bigger than jav?” He'd asked.

“How much bigger?” You'd asked.

“Guess ya’d have to find out,” Steve cooed.

And thus your question.

“Hm," Steve's brow furrows. “you plannin’ on tellin'?”

“You wouldn't tell?” you ask, hardly believing you've arrived at this possibility.

“Hell no,” Steve confirms and slides his hand up your thigh. "Mmm," he hums at a low pitch as his hand nears the humid heat between your legs.

“You want this dick, is that what I'm hearin’?” He looks down at the hard shape in his pants then reads your eyes. You reach for the thick, hard bratwurst visible down his inseam.

A zap of need makes you nod.

—-

Javi gets home less than an hour after Steve leaves. You're fresh out of the shower but haven't had a chance to take out the trash.

“You're clean,” Javi observes with a skeptical arch of one eyebrow.

“Don't you like me clean?” You ask.

“Open,” his hand on your jaw makes you open his mouth. He looks you over carefully, and his nostrils twitch.

“on the bed. All fours,” he commands. He lifts up your dress and pulls down your panties. Before he touches you, he pulls the panties all the way off and sniffs them before throwing them aside.

He gets down on his knees to examine your cunt. “Well someone fucked you wide open,” he notes.

“Javi…” you protest, unsure what to say

He works three fingers into your hole and it burns without enough lube.

“Bet I could fit my whole hand,” he muses, but withdraws his fingers and leaves you gaping.

“I can see your cervix,” he says. “Must’ve been one big cock. You were smart, though. I can smell the latex.” You look back at him, cheeks burning. His nostrils flare and he draws in a chest full of air. “I've got one guess,” he mutters as he stands up. He goes to the restroom and fishes the used condom out of the trash. Full of Steve and still slippery.

Javi returns, sniffing the condom. “You fucked my partner,” he observes a little too calmly with a raise of his eyebrows. He unfurls the condom, lifts it up to the light, and tilts it, admiring the liquid as it moves under the translucent tan.

Javi holds the rim of the condom gently between his teeth as he swiftly takes off his belt and pulls his jeans down. He stands, cock erect, and takes the condom from his mouth.

Javi pumps his cock a few times and demands, “how'd you do it?”

You put yourself face down, ass-up.”

“Like that?” He asks. He's sweating and his heart rate is up.

You nod.

He nods like he's impressed. Sarcasm. The sweet stench of cum draws your eyes to crotch level, where Javi is suiting up in Steve's condom, inside-out.

Your mouth is shape and your face is cold. The latex wrapping Javi's cock is coated in his partner's cream. He pumps himself, fist gliding over the cum, spreading it evenly along his shaft.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“Told you it might turn me on,” he answers. “Never wanted to breed someone so bad.”

“What?” You ask. “Javi, this is–”

He kneels onto the bed and gets behind you. “Yeah, he's got a real big one,” Javi says as he lines himself up at your tired hole. He pushes his cum-coated length into you and says, “real big.”

He withdraws enough length to admire steve’s cum creeping out of your hole, then slams his hips into you. He pulls on your hips as he fucks you harder. “Daddy Murphy,” he says. “Hope he shows up for you,” his words hop to the rhythm of his thrusts. He gasps and sighs. “Yeah…. Just like that,” he coos, admiring his work where your bodies are joined. Cum is frothing out around his cock as he pounds you. “put a baby in you,” he says, “oh, baby.” The smell of cum and latex is heavy in the air. “When your belly starts to grow,” he pants, “you gonna tell him he's daddy?”

You moan in response.

“Who's daddy?” Javi asks.

“You are,” you reply as a reflex.

“And who else?” He asks

“Steve,” you reply.

“That's right,” Javi pants. “Can't wait to see your tits grow,” he gushes, “watch him watch you filling out…” he pulls you back hard and slams into you, bottoming out deep as he cums.

He lets you collapse onto the bed and pulls out of your wrecked pussy. The condom is ripped and froth is everywhere.

“Guess it turned me on after all ” he admits. “I'll run you a shower.”

----

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----

Thank you so much for reading! If you liked it, please consider leaving a comment. I need all the dope(amine) I can get rn. Love y'all! ♥️

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Trying this ~

[mrsparrasblog]

POLY 141 x pregnant Reader

reaction if they are the biological father. if they are not the Dad

Postpartum Depression

Ever thought about what it would be like to be pregnant with this gigantic pile of handsome men? Because I've thought about it, and I can go into heavy detail—I will go into heavy detail!

Price: This man has a heavy breeding kink, and no one can convince me otherwise. He was so happy when he found out you were pregnant that he immediately got into heavy Dad mode. "What do you mean?" he asked after you told him he doesn't need to baby-proof the house when you're only in the second month. He attends baby preparation courses with you and overall turns into a super daddy.

Johnny: The second one with a heavy breeding kink is 100% sure he is the father. "It's the MacTavish genes," he says confidently. "We're going to have at least three bairns by the end of the five-year mark." He wouldn't admit it, but he called his mother crying while he told her the news. The MacTavish Family was special, so they all came with big stroller gifts and the urge to overwhelm you with their love. They don't care who the baby's biological father is; in their hearts, you're a MacTavish, exactly like your sweet little bairn.

Kyle: He is really excited. He already loves the baby and is also 100% sure it's his because you two have the most sex out of all of them. He always fights with Johnny about who the father probably is. Kyle is the one who thinks the most about you. He knows how you struggle with the pregnancy and how it isn't easy for you with all the overwhelming baby daddies around you, so he takes his time to care about you. He compliments you more than ever, and if you have a weird craving, he's already ordered it before you even said a word. He is constantly trying to find a baby-safe option of your favorite food. He doesn't drink coffee anymore so you don't mourn alone. Check-up? He is the first to be there, and when the baby was born and everyone looked at it, he went to you. Not because he loves the baby less—it's his world—but because he was so afraid the whole pregnancy of losing his soulmate, the only thing worth fighting for, the only thing that kept him alive.

Ghost: He never wanted kids—at least he thought he didn't—but it made sense with you. He knew you would be the best mother in the world. So why was he so afraid? He thought about how he could hurt the baby all the time with his pure strength or how he would scare the baby or hurt you. For a blissful second, he thought maybe it would be better if he left so you'd be safe from all the shadows of his past. But he was better than his family. He bought lots of parenting books, went to his psychologist regularly, and attended dad meetings, not daddy meetings—a terrible mistake he made. He even bought you a guard dog for the possibility that you and the baby are alone. To his surprise, but not to yours, he was the most gentle and understanding dad there ever was.

Dont ask me why my brain came up with this weird stuff again but Im already thinking about how they react when they found out who the biological father is lol

[star--stilinski]

I would absolutely LOVE to request a buzzcut stiles smut omg😭

If you are comfortable and if this is not too much detail could you write something about Stiles being insecure of his buzzcut thinking it makes him unattractive but when he tells his other bsf/reader she’s like flabbergasted and tells him how hot it makes him and it makes him all cocky. Then he’d probably like ask her is she’s serious and when she says yes finally act on his feelings. Maybe soft smut? If that is okay

HALLELUIAH YES GAWDDDD i love this sm omg

☆

stiles frowns at his reflection. scott is ranting in the school bathroom again, but it's all stuff stiles has already heard before and he's distracted anyway. he runs an absent hand over his short hair before following a still-rambling scott out of the bathroom and down the hall.

it's been getting on his nerves lately, how slow his hair is growing. he thought it was pretty cool at first, until he was slapped in the face with the reality of his best friend getting girls left and right and leaving stiles completely dry. not that it's scott's fault- he's just easy to get jealous of with this kind of thing.

"dude, are you even listening?" scott abruptly stops and whirls on stiles. "you've been dead silent for, like, three minutes."

"yeah, i heard you. but it's a little hard to care about your girlfriend strife when she actively wants to sleep with you. speaking of,"

allison is leaning against a locker, watching scott with a dreamy look. she waves and smiles softly, leaving scott to return the smile-wave combo with a lot less charisma.

"listen," stiles sighs, trying to keep the bite of envy out of his tone, "you probably just need to talk to her. girls love confidence. just, i dunno," he waves wildly with his hands. "do that."

scott squints at him. "i think that might be the worst advice you've ever given me."

"worse than killing derek?"

"possibly. now, i'm gonna go-" scott throws a look towards allison and swallows thickly, "figure that out. i'll see you."

stiles calls after him; "don't be an idiot! remember i'm living vicariously through you right now!"

once scott and allison are far enough down the hall, he rubs a hand over his hair again and huffs. stupid, stupid freshman stiles and his bad hair decisions.

"you're gonna rub right through your skull."

"GAH!" stiles jumps back from you, snapped out of his spiraling thoughts. you laugh at him behind your hand, looking up through your pretty lashes. "jesus, your footsteps are like feathers. i need to put a bell on you."

that makes you frown, shoulder-checking him as you start walking. "you're just not used to anything other than two-left-feet scott mccall. i have perfectly regular footsteps."

he jogs to catch up with you as you make your way to the school parking lot, eyeing your choice of shorts. your legs being out is a big plus for his racing mind today.

"hey, you busy today? scott ditched me to go play loverbirds and i don't want to do my homework." he hums, pushing one of the heavy doors open and letting you through.

"hmm, that depends, do you have food at your house?"

"not even a little," he smirks at the almost-yes as you both trot through the empty lot towards his jeep. "that's why we're getting drive thru."

"who's paying?"

"who do you think?"

you cheer excitedly as he unlocks the jeep.

☆

you're sat criss-cross on stiles' bed as he paces, tracking his movement with your eyes. he's on a tangent about scott, actually, and how his decision-making skills are subpar. you're listening intently with a tilted head, watching his hands flex as he talks, and the way his biceps bulge without his flannel on, and how his jawline is so sharp-

"and girls are confusing, y'know? sorry, no offense, it's just-" this catches your attention, making your eyes flit up to his as they dart around the room. "it's just that you're all so... so... what do you guys even want? can't be money, because scott has a girlfriend. can't be personality, because jackson has a girlfriend. definitely can't be looks, because i'm pretty sure greenburg is going out with abby right now."

he sighs and turns on you, taking a dangerous step closer to the bed. his brow is upturned, eyes pleading, lips parted.

"it's this stupid buzzcut, isn't it?"

you blink, just once, before squinting. "what?"

"my hair, it's so-" he pushes a frustrated hand through it, and his jaw clenches. "so not hot."

and when he says it, with his narrowed eyes all sharp and his pink lips pressed together, you think for a moment he must be joking. "...what?"

he turns his glare onto you. "you know what i mean, okay? it's unattractive, it must be. i mean, i go completely unnoticed-"

"wait, you actually mean to tell me you think your buzzcut is ugly?"

stiles huffs, clearly not liking the bluntness of his feelings being laid out. "that it makes me ugly, yeah."

this makes you pause. maybe you're a minority, but when stiles drives his jeep and starts talking fast about something nerdy, you imagine climbing into his lap and making him crash the car. one time you two were arguing while he was in his lacrosse uniform and you genuinely wanted to offer to suck his dick. and even right now, with his too-tight t-shirt and his frustrated face, you want to ask him to take his frustration out on you... in- in a hot way. you may have gone a little far with that one-

"would you stop looking at me like that?" he snips, eyes darting over your whole face and then your body like he's looking for the off switch. you frown up at where he stands.

"like what? i'm just in disbelief."

he rolls his eyes. "like you're gonna tackle me. it's weird, after what i just told you."

"well, maybe i do want to tackle you." oh shit, that was supposed to stay in your head! quick, make it look like it was on purpose! "the buzzcut doesn't make you ugly."

his face screws up in confusion. "well, then, what does it make me?"

"hot."

you both kinda falter, like there's nowhere to go from here. his mouth gapes open and you watch his cheeks grow pinker, much similar to your own. and since you've already dug the hole and he doesn't seem too bothered, you make it an inch or two deeper.

"you're pretty hot, stiles. i mean, you hang around scott and stay in your room, so it's not like you're around enough girls for them to tell you. and you never ask me, so... that's probably why you're unaware."

he gapes at you, a hand going to his hair like it has a whole new purpose to him. "i didn't know asking you was an option...."

"apparently it is." you shrug. your oversized t-shirt and shorts suddenly seem not pretty enough for where this conversation seems to be going, but it's too late to linger on that thought now. anyway, his eyes are on you like sniper lasers... or something... and he takes another step closer to you.

"okay, um... i'm asking you."

you raise your eyebrows. what, he just wants you to lament on how sexy he is? you're not that easy, he's probably going to use that information to chase the skirts of some long, skinny-legged girl at school. besides, there's not even that much to-

"please." he hums.

you swallow, turning your face away from him. "okay, well, you've got the whole secretly smart guy thing going on. and your nose is really nice. mix that with the way your eyes are...-"

"my eyes are what?"

you glance up to glare at his impatience. he tilts his head at you, and you swear you can see a mischievous glint in those stupid, stupid (aggravatingly sexy) eyes. bastard.

"they're, um, provocative. when you're frustrated. or focused." you turn your eyes awayyyy from his reaction, for your own safety. "and your jaw is nice, so. plus your hands-"

"my hands?"

"are you gonna keep interrupting me? 'cause i'll stop." you gripe up at him, but looking back up was a big mistake. his cheeks are tinted pink but his mouth is quirked up into a knowing little smirk, like your embarrassment is suddenly clay for him to play with. yeah, no. you are not getting stuck in this position with stiles. "okay, yeah, that's enough."

"no, nonononono wait." he crosses the rest of the distance to crouch in front of the bed, looking up at you. "i'm sorry. i'm just not used to this. or you, like this." his hand rests atop your knee. "i won't even react. keep going, just a bit?"

you pout and look at his hand as his thumb rubs back and forth on your bare skin. it's warm and relaxing and makes your whole body burn hot when his hand inches up your thigh just barely. you look back up at him, but his face is earnest, promising. you sigh.

"your buzzcut makes you look good."

his eyebrows inch up his forehead.

"really good."

stiles grins.

☆

you're not really sure if you left stiles' house or escaped it, after that. all you know is that last night did some serious damage to your ego... and some serious maintenance to his. as you leave school, your mind replays the series of events and the blush that has been plaguing your cheeks and making you overheat returns.

dammit! you had to avoid stiles all day because of this stupid embarrassment. which proved difficult, since you guys had plenty of classes together and ate lunch with each other every day since forever. you slap your cheeks as you shoulder your way past the school doors and into the parking lot, glancing over at the field where lacrosse practice is in full swing.

your eyes catch on something odd, and coach's voice fades into the background when the image registers in your mind. stiles is leaning on the fence with his helmet in hand, sweat making his skin glow and a cocky look on his face. he's leaned over the fence, chatting up three soccer girls, who all seem very interested in whatever he's saying.

this, unfortunately, does not make you happy. but alas, what are you going to do? pull him away by the ear and chastise him for... talking to girls? you just wish you hadn't said anything about his stupid buzzcut (which looks unrealistically good with his lacrosse uniform).

all three of the girls throw their heads back laughing. and it's not even, like, pretty girl flirtatious laughter. it's loud, and one of the girls slaps her friend's arm. you want to rip the arm off.

but you keep walking instead, because you decided the bus was too much and walking home was the best option. better than standing in the parking lot, staring like a creep as your best friend (who you want to messy-make-out with) finally gets girls (who you want dead).

this is going to be a pathetic walk home.

you barely get to the end of the parking lot when you hear stiles shout your name as loud as he can.

part of you wants to stomp your feet and cry, or ignore him (as if the echo didn't reverberate off of the school building), or flip him off. like a middle schooler. because right now, you don't want to deal with the humiliation of telling stiles (through mumbles and attitude) how hot he is and how badly you want him to fuck you into his mattress, only for him to use you as matchmaker for hotter, more experienced girls.

but you're not a child, and he's still your best friend. plus, his lacrosse uniform.... yum.

jesus christ, you need a drink. there is no way that thought just consciously happened.

you drag your feet walking back, and the soccer girls skip off with their ponytails swinging. stiles is smiling all big and bright when you finally reach him. you are not smiling at all. "you needed me?"

"yeah, i wanted to know if you were coming over tonight." he stands taller than you, and his buzzcut looks so touchable right now, you want to bend him down to your level and run your fingers through it. you blink up at him as you stare, and the silence stretches. his hand comes up to the back of his neck. "uhh, just 'cause i could help you with the homework we skipped yesterday-" he interrupts himself. "are you okay?"

"i'm fine. for both. the homework and the question." you press your thumb into your palm and turn towards the lacrosse field, away from his searching eyes and worried lips. "see you tomorrow, yeah?"

you start to back away from him when he steps forward, the fence catching him from coming closer to you. "well i just- you should come over. i want you to."

"stiles, i can't wait for lacrosse practice to end-"

"i'll skip. they don't even need me." he clenches his jaw when you look back at him. there's a determination in his eyes you've never seen directed at you, and it makes your stomach flip. you've never fell victim to being his prey before, when he wants something so he gets it. the feeling is unrivaled. his lips part. "please."

you can feel your cheeks flush. why does that always have to work on you?

"okay, alright, no need to beg." you nod your head to his jeep, on the far side of the parking lot. "let's go."

he does a subtle fist pump that he doesn't think you see, and hops the fence to follow you, leaving literally everything in the locker room except his car keys. "how was your day?"

you glance up at him, but only for a second when you see how he's staring. all curious and excited, probably from the attention he was getting from those soccer girls. your lips press together in distaste before you even realize.

"it was fine." you shrug, watching as he gets ahead of you to open the passenger door. "got an A on mrs. martin's project."

stiles hums in approval, which may or may not make your lower stomach fizz with butterflies. then he closes your door and makes the short jog to his side, clambering inside. "good job. you hungry?"

you shake your head as he pulls out of the parking lot, doing your best to ignore the vein in his neck when he looks over his shoulder as he backs out, hand resting on your seat. yeah, you totally don't notice that. "no thanks, i'm okay."

"are you sure? i didn't see you at lunch. or english. or-"

"i wasn't feeling well today."

this shuts him up, but not in a good way. you feel his eyes on you, even as he drives, and it makes you squirm a bit. but he doesn't comment on your icy tone, and you drive the rest of the way in silence.

☆

in fact, you're silent all the way up to his room, where you toss your bag in the corner and toe your shoes off. stiles huffs out a sigh and scrubs over his buzzcut self-consciously, tracking you with his eyes as you trail aimlessly around his room and admire the things on his walls.

he's been dying to ask it. he has to. the girls on the soccer team said... he squeezes his eyes shut while you're turned away, repeating what they said to him in his head for nth time. just be honest, and confident. that's what you'd want.

stiles takes bold strides across the room right up to you. he gives you enough room to turn around and face him, but not much more.

"hey."

you scrunch your face up just a bit in confusion. "...hi?"

he clears his throat, his jaw flexing on it's own accord. "the...- okay, when you said my buzzcut makes me look really good-"

"stiles," you scoff and push past him, walking to the middle of his room as a means of escape. "i'm not doing this with you."

"no, wait, doing what?" he scurries around you to face you again, holding you lightly by the shoulders. "waitwaitwait. you gotta let me-"

"no. stop." you're embarrassed, he can tell now. the way you turn your face away and narrow your brow, he never knew he'd be able to read you so well. but he's doing it now, and he's not happy with what he's seeing.

"no, you stop. let me ask you what i want to ask, alright?" he huffs through his nose, and watches as you seem to come to attention. it gives him an odd thrill to see you react so readily when he corrects you. "are you gonna listen to me?"

you glare up at him for a second too long before nodding slowly. he nods too, and in a impatient, annoyed tone, he grumbles: "good."

and then stiles watches your eyes flicker as you fluster much more than he expected. he didn't think much of the words when he was saying them, but here you both are, weirdly into it. he blinks hard to clear his head.

"when you said my buzzcut makes me look 'really good'," he repeats, "did you mean really good to you or to other people?"

he feels you shift your weight by the movement of your shoulders. looking away, you hum, "i don't understand why this is important to you."

stiles narrows his eyes. "yes you do. you know you're into me and you just wont say it."

you snap your eyes to his and take a challenging step forward. "who said i'm into you? just because i said you're good looking doesn't mean you get to use me as some matchmaking machine. i won't inflate your ego just so you can hook up with popular girls, stiles. you can't-"

"i'm not asking so you can inflate my ego." stiles takes a step towards you, making you step back. "i'm asking because i want to know if you were serious." another step. "because i want you to think that about me." another step, and your back hits the wall.

you watch, doe eyed, as stiles brings a hand up to push some of your hair away from your face. his eyes meet yours, but dip down when your lips part. he swallows.

"so," stiles hums, towering over you. "were you being serious?"

stiles watches in awe as your pretty mouth forms around his new favorite word.

"yes."

he half expects himself to tear both of your clothes off and go wild. but his body moves on its own accord; taking your face gently in his hands, kissing you like you're made of glass. when you reciprocate eagerly, he feels his pants start to strain. fuck. seriously? can you please pretend you've had at least some action before?

he can't believe he has to talk his dick down when he's kissing you.

pressing you back up against his bedroom wall, he feels goosebumps rise as your nails rake lightly over his buzz, and it makes him hum. stiles gently removes one hand from the curve of your jaw and slides it onto your hip instead. he loves your hips. he loves them even more when his hands are on them, apparently, because the feeling of it is otherworldly.

what's even better, though, is when your tongue collides with his and you let out a small noise. it's high-pitched and whiney, and it almost makes him finish prematurely. he licks eagerly into your mouth to try and draw it out of you again, but you seem to silence yourself from embarrassment. this does not fly with stiles. his knee draws forward and splits your thighs apart, resting in between them, and he moves down to kiss at your neck. he'll make you whine again, he's sure of it.

"wait," you breathe out. he almost doesn't catch it, too busy with the way your skin feel on his lips and how he has you up against his wall, breathless and pliant. but he pulls back (albeit reluctantly) and meets your dazed look with one of his own.

"what? is this okay? do you wanna stop?" he might actually die on the spot if you want to stop. but he'd do it, for you. his hand massages your hip where he's got you gently pinned, and he watches as it visibly makes you sway (swoon, but you'd never admit that).

"no, no. but, your dad-"

"he's out."

"he could get home anytime."

"we can be quick. we don't have to do anything more than this right now."

"stiles," you're laughing at him. it's airy, and mostly just a teasing smile, but you're still laughing at him. "are you just saying that to get me in your bed? i mean..."

your thigh, which is in between his because of his being in between yours, slides up and presses lightly against his hard-on. his jaw goes slack as the unexpected pressure washes pleasure all over his nerves, and his shoulders bend over for a moment as his hips react on their own. he stops himself, thoroughly embarrassed, and glares at you. you giggle behind your hand, raising an eyebrow. "how're you gonna say you don't want anything below the collar with that going on?"

he pushes your thigh away, shaking his head. "i never said i didn't want anything more, i said we don't have to do anything more. plus, you're the one making the noises and touching me and... so, if anything, this isn't even my fault." stiles gestures vaguely to his dick.

"i'm flattered." you deadpan, before your hand trails from his chest to his stomach. he watches in awe, still half disbelieving that he got you here. you hook your fingers into his waistband and look up at him. "promise your dad wont walk in on us?"

"can you not talk about my dad while turning me on?" he groans, scrubbing a hand over his face. "swear on my life, you have nothing to worry about."

you nod and lean back against the wall, tugging him by his pants to meet you there. he follows suit, lining his body against yours as he kisses you, hands on your hips with yours running through his buzz. he captures your lower lip in his teeth and gently as he can, and you make another short, high-pitched noise again. his dick twitches in his pants.

"you wanna, um," you suck in a breath as he kisses your neck, "move to the bed?"

"yes," he sighs, and immediately pulls your hips forward and directs you to his bed. when you drop onto it and scoot back, stiles hesitates. your hair is a bit messy, lips are full, and your eyes have a glint in them he's never seen before. he's assaulted with the thought of you being his wife and having his kids and growing old and dying together, and then he blinks it away. jesus christ, you're a powerful woman.

he wants to do anything to make you look like this all the time. needy, pretty, all your insecurities and doubts kissed right off of your lips, even if it's just for a bit. is this what being horny is going to be like for him now? is he gonna be a sap when you want to fuck?

stiles crawls over you slowly, laying you back against his pillows. you're excited and it shows, and you're both smiling when he kisses you this time.

☆

he's a mess for days after, head full of the faces you make when he touches you just right, the noises coming from your mouth when you finish. the feeling of skin on skin, the picture perfect look of you wearing his shirt after. it takes scott about two and a half seconds to scrunch up his nose and make a disgusted face at stiles when he starts thinking it. your beauty is just seeping out of him, like he soaked you up and now every werewolf in a one hundred mile radius can smell the lovesick puppy on him.

you want to go on dates, too. real ones, all the time, and you think he's hot and cute and sometimes pretty, which is confusing to him but he likes it anyway. and he wants to save up his money so he can take you to a fancy restaurant. and he is so whipped.

which he's fine with. as long as it's for you. honestly, he's fine with almost anything, as long as it's for you.

☆

i didn't write smut and i apologize but my writing process is to blackout while my fingers fly across my keyboard like i'm a hacker spy until i come to and there's a story on the screen. so. smut didn't happen naturally so it ain't gonna happen at all, i guess. i dunno. ask writing star, not editing star. sorry i've been so absent, holidays is super busy with extended family and such. wish me luck. xoxo!!!

☆

BONUS!! stiles asks some poor soccer girls for help before you went to his house after lacrosse practice. the advice is... really somethin'.

"hey, um, lily?" he had to guess the name of the girl jogging past, but he got it right. she stopped and approached him skeptically, glancing at her two friends in front of her.

"yeah?" she threaded her fingers through the fence as he strided the rest of the distance to her. her two friends had begun making their way over as well. she had to squint past the sun as she stared at him. "what's up?"

"hi, hey, we have bio together. fourth period? i've sat behind you all sememster?"

her face showed no recognition.

"...anyway, i have a question. actually, i can ask all three of you. since you're, um, girls."

her two friends had approached at that point, and looked equally as put off by stiles as lily did. he cleared his throat and started on his ramble:

"so, let's say i'm best friends with this girl, and i like her. like, a lot. and she's kinda totally way out of my leauge, but we never talk about it because she doesn't see things like that anyway. and one day i get on a rant about girls and how confusing they are because, y'know," he gestured to his face like it was a tell of itself, "and she says that my biggest insecurity- err, physically- is actually really hot. and she says my hands are sexy. and my eyes are seductive. and she's like, kinda blushing a lot? but she blushes anyway about stuff around me so it doesn't really-"

"she likes you." one of lily's friends piped up behind her. "if that's what you're asking."

"are you sure? i'm not her type, plus-"

"dude," sighed the other one. the three girls shared a look, making stiles gulp. "girls don't call guys' hands sexy unless they're dying to have them in their mouth."

"mazie!" lily whirled around to slap her friend's shoulder, which did absolutely nothing to censor her. when she turned back to stiles, it was apologetically. "sorry, but she's got a point."

he slumped onto the fence in relief. "you think so? i want to put my hands in her mouth, if she's asking for that."

"nice." mazie nodded as the other two girls made noises of disgust. ignoring them, mazie continued. "honestly, she probably likes you but thinks you don't like her. especially if you're chatting up three soccer girls, looking like that."

the only girl stiles hadn't gotten the name of nodded solemly, and lily put her hands on her hips, determined. "okay, skinhead. how're you gonna confess?"

stiles smiles awkwardly. "uh, i'll just tell her when she comes over tonight?"

lily barked out a laugh, and her two friends followed suit. it was loud, like three crows making fun of him while they toss their heads back. it ended abruptly, too, and lily glared daggers at him in the silence. "no, idiot."

stiles whimpered a little "oh."

"girls love confidence." the unnamed girl declared, tilting her head. "when i flirt with girls i always make them like, say how hot i am. always gets them going."

"god," lily scrunched her nose, "are you both ovulating? we do not need to know all of that."

"so... what should i do?" stiles blinked at them, and they refocused their attention on him.

"be confident. be honest. that's always a rare, and hot, trait in a guy." lily said, before her eyes roved over him analytically. "anyway, you're attractive. it'll be fine."

"he's attractive?" the unnamed girl said, making all three of them laugh again. lily slapped her arm, and stiles let himself get distracted as his eye caught on someone walking across the parking lot.

oh, it's you.

his body feels a bit warmer, buzzing with nervous energy, as he shouts your name.

☆

[catboyieejeno]

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・★

cw: soft dom! mingyu x slight pillow princess! reader, fem! reader, pwp, oral (fem and male receiving), slight overstimulation, praise, mentions of cum, npr

18+ minors do not interact !

boyfriend! mingyu who is completely obsessed with burying his face in your sopping cunt until your fingers are weaved between his locks and you’re coming multiple times in a row. he won’t let up, not because he’s being mean or punishing you with overstimulation—although occasionally, that is the case—but because you, his sweet, pretty girl, deserves nothing less than his tongue lapping restlessly at your folds. It’s embarrassingly easy for him to get pussy-drunk, grinding himself into the bed as he goes down on you for well over an hour. By the time you plead out desperately for his cock, he’s already left a thick puddle of his cum on the spot in the bed he was fucking his length into. 

kim mingyu is a simple man of simple pleasures, some of which include your cries and sputters, your trembling thighs and heavy pants, and the infrequent, though appreciated, indiscernible blabbers of praise you manage to let out through drooling lips. when you can actually manage to form words, that is. 

you are his pillow princess, whether you bestowed that title upon yourself or not. The chances of you going down on him? slim. giving him head is a rare occurrence; in fact, you’d have to beg him to let you try, plead with him to stuff his considerably large length down your throat. you’d have to convince him you need him there so bad, that you want him to feel just as good as he makes you feel, but even then, his responses are rehearsed. 

“but baby, i don’t need all that, let me treat you instead,” 

“‘wanna do all the work for you, honey. you deserve it.” 

“you really want me to fill your mouth up baby? first you have to come twice on my tongue,” 

“I’d rather come in you, sweet girl.” 

“s’too big for your pretty little mouth, don’ wanna hurt you,”

at first, you thought he didn’t want you to give him head at all, or that he assumed you would be bad at it. But, when you finally begged enough, your pretty boy caved and it became apparent very quickly why he was holding off for so long. from the moment he lays back, one arm tucked behind his head, the other pressing his thumb onto your swirling tongue, he knows he’s done for. watching you crawl over him, leaving kisses and licking stripes as you make your way down his torso, makes his pre-cum leak freely from his flushed tip. 

mingyu has his lip caught between his teeth, eyes glossed over in a haze. the very moment your velvety lips wrap around his head, he’s groaning out, arms and legs dropping limply onto the mattress. you have absolute power over him in that moment, and both of you are very, very aware of that. all of your insecurities dissipate as you realize he’s falling apart, melting like putty in your hands. his chest that previously rose and fell calmly is now puffing up with air he pushes out through his nostrils and the noises he’s letting out? other-fucking-wordly.

he eventually regains feeling in his hands and they rotate between holding your throat, your cheek, and simply sliding along the ridges of his abdomen. all the meanwhile, it’s him who chokes up on his words, slurring his speech. 

“please, please, please…” 

“your mouth feels s’good on me, fuck,” 

“doin’ so good, so fucking good, all for me…” 

“if you do that again, i’m not gonna last—shit.” 

“just like that, yes, baby… oh, god, you’re gonna make me—“ 

when your tongue swipes deliciously over his tip, he drags out a strangled moan, shooting his hot load into your mouth and down your throat. knees locked, toes curled, and hips bucking up into you, he throws his head back to ride out his orgasm. 

a few seconds later, his hands fly to your hair to lift you off, but in a small act of defiance for all the times you were overstimulated by him, you grab his wrists and pin them at his sides. he lets you do this because it’s so, so fucking hot to watch you have a sliver of control for once—both of you are well aware he could overpower you if he wanted to. instead, though, he laces his fingers with yours and takes what you give him like the good boy he is. it takes less than ten minutes for him to come each and every time you give him head going forward but thankfully, his stamina doesn’t betray him. he recovers while he returns the favor, devouring you and drinking up your juices as his cock that never fully softened, swells up all over again. 

⋆ ★

[harryspet]

homestead [4] r.cameron

[warnings] dark!rafe cameron x pregnant!reader, farmer!rafe, pogue!reader, jj maybank x reader, kidnapping, DUBCON, little editing,READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: Pls reblog and let me know what you think!

word count: 3.6k

In which you can't escape from your inner turmoil, even in your dreams.

homestead masterlist

Tending to the entire house was hard work. You thought you’d be bored sooner than you actually ended up. It seemed there was always more to do with all the cooking you were doing and the laundry that Rafe went through. Sometimes, you imagined adding the demands of feeding a newborn every few hours or chasing a toddler around to your already packed routine. The thought was daunting, but you had signed up for it, knowing it would be difficult yet now you were relieved you wouldn’t be financially struggling through it.

Your growing belly had started to interfere with your daily chores. It was harder to breathe when you exerted yourself, and frequent trips to the bathroom were now the norm. Rafe never complained when the house wasn't perfect, but you knew it was because he was trying to regain your trust after losing control in the nursery. He wanted you to come to him willingly, but you weren’t mentally ready for that. When Rafe did touch you, he restrained his darker impulses, and while you never enthusiastically said “yes,” you found yourself denying him less and less.

When Rafe started leaving his bedroom unlocked, you knew it was safe to start cleaning it. You mostly used this time to snoop around. You weren’t sure what contact he kept with the outside world. He made sure you weren’t privy to the details of his business, and he never called his family when you were around. 

His room was like yours in many ways, yet distinctly different. You felt a more masculine presence than the rest of the farmhouse. The walls were a deep charcoal gray, and the bed had a thick, woolen blanket that looked inviting enough, but the large wooden bed frame was imposing. Heavy, dark curtains framed the windows on either side of the bed, and there was a seating area on one side of the room with a leather armchair next to a couple of shelves containing a few trinkets and books. Rafe’s closet contained your most considerable curiosity, a substantial black safe. 

The way Rafe opened the house to you was purposeful, he wanted you to feel welcome here, but he couldn’t deny he had secrets. You knew at least a few of those secrets were inside that safe. 

Every time you went inside the closet to put away Rafe’s laundry or organize his clothes, you thought about the years that had passed and everything you didn’t know about him. You were in one of those moments, standing in Rafe’s closet, when you heard the shower start in the connecting room. Rafe had appeared from an afternoon in the fields. You weren’t sure if he hadn’t realized you were there, but he’d already started undressing, his chiseled frame glistening with sweat and dirt. 

“Hey,” You whispered, not wanting to startle him, but he was already grinning at the sight of you.

“Hey, Honey,” He started to undo his belt, and you felt trapped, most of his figure blocking the view of the bathroom doorway, “How you doing?”

You shrugged like you usually did, “Fine, I was just …hanging up your dress shirts.”

“Nice,” He slid off his pants, and you weren’t sure why you didn’t avert your eyes; maybe because you felt yourself starved from any other human connection expect Rafe’s, “I’ll be gone for longer than usual tomorrow.”

“Cameron Development business?”

He didn’t confirm nor deny, “You mind picking out my clothes? You have a better eye for colors and stuff, you know?”

“Sure,” You took that as your opportunity to stop staring at the figure that seemed to be growing even more pristine as the manual labor toned his muscles. You resented it slightly, feeling less and less like yourself as your child grew inside of you. 

The closet was a strange mix of outdoor clothing and high-end suits, a signal of the true duality of Rafe’s life. Thanks to you, it was more organized now, and you spent time scanning the rows of clothes. You chose a tailored navy suit, thinking of his muscular build and the deep blue of his eyes. You paired it with a crisp, white dress shirt and a tie with a subtle, sophisticated pattern of navy and silver. Completing the look, you picked out his polished, black leather dress shoes and matching belt. 

You hadn’t realized just how much time you spent mulling it over. As soon as you laid it out on top of the closet’s chaise lounge chair, Rafe stood beside you with a towel wrapped around his waist. 

“I’m impressed,” He said, leaning over to peck your cheek. 

“Thanks.”

“Stay with me in my room tonight,” Rafe said, his fingers trailing down from your shoulder to your arm. He moved in closer, leaning down to kiss below your ear, “Missed you all day.”

“Rafe,” You sighed as he placed a kiss lower on your neck. In saying his name, you said a million different things. It was a warning that you might resist, that you loved his touch but hated how much you did. 

“I gave you your own space because of your …condition. But after the baby comes, this is going to become our room. I want you to get comfortable here.”

Again, it felt like he was asking the world of you. You imagined laying next to him night after night and him rolling over, taking what he wanted from you anytime he liked. When you thought about it for a moment longer, it wasn’t much different than how things were now. 

“I…I wanted to ask you something,” You placed a hand on his chest and he placed his larger one over yours.

“Yeah?”

“Now that I’m in my third trimester, I’ve been thinking more about, you know, giving birth,” You found it hard to meet his eyes, but you did your best, especially as they started to narrow at you, “With me being here, I guess I don’t know what my plan is anymore.”

“Don’t worry, Honey,” Rafe said, “You think I don’t have a plan?”

“I didn’t know how far we were from the hospital-”

You felt his heart quicken underneath your touch, “A hospital is like, not even Plan C, it’s Plan E. You’ll do it here. People do home births all the time.”

Your face fell quickly, and you pulled your hand from him, “You’re not serious.”

“I’ve been doing my research. As long as we have the proper people involved and the right equipment, it can work!”

“It’s my first pregnancy, Rafe! I want a real hospital with lots of nurses and a real doctor. I want an epidural, and I want my baby to have immediate medical care if he needs it. You’re crazy!”

“It’s not happening.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You cursed, your temper flaring. He grabbed your wrist, keeping you from stepping away, “Get away from me!”

“Calm down,” Rafe grabbed both of your arms, pinning you in front of him, “This is why I didn’t fucking bring it up.”

“Let go of me,” You gritted your teeth, “Please.”

“You have to trust me. I can handle this.”

“I don’t want you … I don’t want just you to handle everything,” you replied, trying to find your calm, knowing you might set him off pretty soon. “Please, just—we have to be able to discuss this more. If you need reassurance that I won’t run or tell anyone what happened, then I will do whatever. I care about the baby more than myself.”

“I wouldn’t put you or the baby in harm's way.”

“I know,” you lied.

“Then don’t imply that I would.”

 “Can you just be open-minded about this?”

His eyes held a lot of emotions, but he nodded. As if each of you were frightened of escalating each other further, you pulled away from each other. 

“I want to sleep in my bed; I toss and turn so much, and my pillow-”

“Go ahead, I don’t give a shit,” Rafe crossed his arms, giving in so quickly that your eyes widened in shock. You didn’t waste the opportunity, scurrying off as quickly as your legs would take you. 

You didn’t see Rafe for the rest of that night and were grateful he wasn’t around the next day, either. 

“I like the name Kai,” you said, looking up, your head resting on top of someone’s warm lap, feeling the sun for the first time in a long time. “It means sea in Hawaiian. If they grow up here, they have to like the ocean.”

“I was thinking something edgier,” you heard JJ say, his gaze also moving toward the beautiful sky above. Lush, rolling fields surrounding you, “Maybe like Talon or Blaze? Something cool so, you know, the other kids don’t pick on ‘em.”

“No way,” She shook your head, giggling, “That is exactly the type of kid someone would pick on.”

“Fine …Kai. I don’t dislike it,” JJ seemed to ponder the name longer,.

You sat up from his lap, finally gazing at your handsome boyfriend. “I like it. We don’t have to pick one now, but … I’m just saying.” 

The two of you were sitting on top of a plaid blanket you didn’t recognize, and you didn’t recognize what part of The Cut you were in, either. JJ must’ve surprised you for a date. A cheap picnic was always up his aisle, and you never cared for fancy dates. 

“I still can’t believe there’s going to be a little Maybank,” you said, reaching out to touch his blonde, windswept hair. “I mean, I already love him. It makes me think my Dad must’ve never felt this way about me.”

He touched your bump, and you felt like you were filled with happiness. Everything was right. Things would be challenging, but at least you’d have each other. 

“My parents, too,” the words were solemn, but you felt the opposite, “It’s their loss.”

Neither of you had the families you deserved, but you could provide that happiness to Kai . . . or whatever name ended up suiting your angel. 

“Picking a name is hard. What if we look at him, and he just doesn’t match the one we chose?” You wondered. 

“Then we change it. He could have no name for all I care. As long as he’s healthy.”

You brought your lips to his and melted into him. Strong arms wrapped around your back as he deepened the kiss further. You were at home. 

When you opened your eyes again, breathless from the kiss, you knew you weren’t home at all. Tears filled JJ’s ocean eyes and the sky turned a darker blue. 

“Have you asked Rafe what he thinks about the baby’s name?”

“Wha-” Your lips parted, the air growing from warm to humid. A storm was brewing above that field of flowers. Now that you glanced around, those flowers were just weeds. 

“You should ask him.”

“Why would I ask Rafe, JJ?”

“Why not? He won. He gets you. He gets the baby.”

“He didn’t win. I just …” It came to you then. JJ never got to feel your pregnant belly. He never knew you were having a boy. How could you feel connected to him from behind the glass in the visiting room? “I-I’m going to figure this out.”

“You’re giving in.”

“I’m not!” You pushed at his chest, but he didn’t budge. 

“You should’ve never let him in.”

“I’m sorry,” You were crying now, “I-I was so lonely, and… you left me!”

He turned his head, and you felt the rain starting to fall, “You’ll forget about me soon enough. He’ll never know me.”

“Please, you have to find us.” The words left your lips just as lightning struck. 

You screamed yourself awake. 

You pushed around the baby potatoes on your plate, sitting across from Rafe at the dinner table. This entire week, you’d been struggling with eating. You felt the baby resting so high that you felt full quicker than expected. It didn’t help that you were facing the reality of giving birth inside this house and possibly never seeing the outside world again. 

You wanted nothing more than to meet your baby, but you felt yourself growing more complacent as your time here and the pregnancy went along. Realistically, how far could you get now that you were this pregnant? And how could you leave with a newborn?

“Is the baby moving a lot?” Rafe brought a piece of steak to his mouth, watching you intently as you played with your food. 

“Yeah … a little too much.”

“Hey, an active baby is a healthy one.”

You wanted to roll your eyes, “You read that in one of your parenting books?”

He winked at you, “Yes, I did.”

“I’m glad you know everything now.”

“You’d know more if you spent some of your free time reading. You haven’t touched a single one.”

“I’m exhausted lately, but thanks.”

Rafe nodded, “Well, makes sense; your body is changing so much. I should stay home more so I can take care of you.”

“I can take care of myself,” You said quickly. 

His fork and knife clanged against his plate as he placed them down. He leaned forward, eyes gazing sharply at you, “What’s gotten into you lately?”

“Rafe, don’t,” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes now. 

“I’m serious …did I do something? Things have been going good.”

You went silent, “Can I be excused?”

“You cannot,” his fist slammed down on the table, making you jump. “I had our whole night planned out, starting with dinner. So you’ll finish dinner with me, we will go on a walk, and then stay in my bed tonight.”

“I don’t feel-”

“I don’t care. I don’t ask too much of you,” Rafe interrupted, “If you can act a little bit more pleasant, I’ll still give you the surprise I was planning.”

“A surprise?”

“You’re going to regret acting like a brat when you see it.” 

Your mouth parted in shock, but his deadly look had you crossing your arms and sitting back silently in your chair. 

Rafe’s hands were intertwined with yours as you walked down an unfamiliar winding path. Cicadas had begun chirping, and the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the property. This was only the third time you’d physically left the house, Rafe allowing you earlier in your pregnancy to follow him around to meet all of the animals. 

Now, due to your swollen feet, you didn’t fit into the work overalls Rafe purchased for you or the boots. You walked in silence for the most part, imagining that Rafe was stewing with anger after your behavior at dinner. You cared little that you’d upset him; your mind was focused on repressing the nightmares you’d be having about JJ. 

After a few minutes, you arrived at a small, fenced-in area near one of the barns. Your curiosity was piqued when you saw a little pen set up in the middle of the grassy area. Inside was a bundle of fur that wiggled and barked excitedly as you approached. 

“C’mere, Honey,” He pulled you closer to the pin. The small dog was a golden brown color with long, shaggy ears, and you noticed a red gift bow tied around its neck. 

“A puppy?” You asked, leaning forward. The puppy stood up on its hind legs, and bounded over the pen's edge, tail wagging furiously. 

“She’s cute, right?” Rafe scooped the puppy quickly into its arms. 

“You bought a puppy,” you couldn’t help yourself, starting to pet its soft fur as Rafe held her close. “This is the surprise?”

“Part of it,” Rafe smiled, “You could use more company.” 

You couldn’t help but notice that your lips started to pull into a smile as the puppy tilted its head closer to you, licking at your cheek, “Oh … look at her,” You said, your heart swelling. Rafe had successfully subverted your expectations. Who were you to deny the cutest animal you’d ever seen? You should welcome any happiness your new world wanted to bring you, no matter how much regret JJ made you feel in your dreams, “You didn’t have to…”

“I want you to have her. She’s a cocker spaniel. Guy who sold her to me said they’re good with kids.” 

“I love her,” You spoke honestly, scratching behind her ears. 

“Look at her collar,” He gave you a suspicious look.

“Why?”

“Just look,” You hesitated but couldn’t imagine him playing a trick on you right now. 

After spinning the tiny collar around her neck, you found the second part of your surprise. Hanging on its collar was a ring with a gold band an a huge, oval-shaped diamond. You inspected it closer, not meeting Rafe’s eyes. Your heart was beating way too fast to look at him. You knew little about engagement rings, but you knew what you were looking at would be considered top-tier. 

“Here,” he said, placing the puppy back down in the pin and maneuvering its collar to free the ring. He held it out to you, and as you stood there, frozen, he took your hand. You didn’t pull away as he eased it onto your left ring finger, “I know we can’t have a traditional ceremony, but I just thought you might think this was special.”

Your lips parted, but Rafe shushed you, “You don’t have to say anything.”

Rafe’s eyes searched yours, waiting for any sign of acceptance. You looked down, the diamond catching the light of the setting sun.

“Let’s bring her inside,” Rafe suggested after a long moment. You nodded, and he leaned over to kiss your forehead before lifting the puppy again. 

Rafe led you back to the house, and his words echoed in your head. What had he done to deserve your attitude? Things were going well. In exchange for caring for the house, you relax in a comfortable environment where your baby can grow peacefully. He’d bought you a gorgeous ring and a puppy to discourage your loneliness. Maybe you were just wholly ungrateful. 

You helped Rafe set up an area for her in the living room.

“She’s gonna need a name.”

“What do you think?” You asked him quietly. 

You resisted the idea of naming your baby without JJ, but maybe you could share this intimate, normal thing with Rafe. 

He propped his fist underneath his chin, thinking, and stared down at the dog, “Are you opposed to a human name?”

“I’m not opposed to anything.”

He seemed a bit surprised by your reaction, but he continued his thinking pose. 

“She’s gonna be really sweet, I can already tell. To me, she looks like a Lucy or like a Molly.”

“Molly is cute. Classic sounding,” You nodded, leaning down to pet her, “You’re so adorable. You need wittle pink hairbows, don’t you, Molly?” 

You heard him chuckle at your high-pitched tone, “It’s settled then. Welcome to the family, Molly.”

As the evening progressed and after you got plenty of puppy cuddles, Rafe escorted you upstairs. The atmosphere was different than the last time you were together there. It was softer and more intimate. He helped you out of your clothes, gentle and considerate of your bump. You didn’t let yourself overthink any longer for the night. 

Your body was so much different from when he first brought you here, yet Rafe’s eyes were hungrier than ever. You couldn’t feel vulnerable for too long because soon he was naked too and pressed against you. The touching, soothing words in your ear and the gentle hands on your belly were almost too much. 

When the time came, Rafe guided you on top of him. He kept you steady, supporting your body with his strong hands as you straddled his lap. That night, you controlled the pace, and the position allowed you to ease the discomfort your belly caused. He watched you like a fine painting hanging in a museum, and his hands never left your hips. 

“Take your time,” He grunted huskily, “You’re doing so good, Honey.”

You loved the praise. You basked in his words and his gaze. You wanted to feel like you were doing the right thing, that you would be a good Mom, and Rafe was always there to confirm that. Your head rolled back, lips parting, as your movements became more frantic and rapid. 

You lost your rhythm, the intensity bringing tears to your eyes.

“Good girl, Honey,” As you grew tired, Rafe moved your hips for you. Hands pressing into his thick chest, you whined, feeling him in the deepest parts of you, “Give Daddy all of it.” 

“Fuck, Rafe!” You cursed, shaking, and he groaned in response, “I’m coming.”

He moved your hips faster, the grinding motion sending you over the cliff towards your orgasm. You felt yourself tightening around him, and like a chain reaction, Rafe’s eyes closed tightly as his orgasm came, “Jesus, baby,” Hands still tight on your hips, he finished deep inside of you, but you’d reached the point of overstimulation now. 

You climbed off of him, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. He caught you in his arms, pressing his body into yours, “Thank you,” You heard him say in your ear, his voice raw with emotion, “Fuck, I love you so much.”

You nestled into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours and the soft sheets beneath you. When you drifted off to sleep, you saw no raging storms, felt no overwhelming guilt, and JJ never appeared. For the first time in a long while, you slept peacefully, cocooned in the safety of Rafe’s love.

A/N: Pls reblog and let me know what you think!

[cybxrcvnt]

18+

Content Warning: Smut, PinV, Virgin!Daryl, Insecure!Daryl, Female!Reader, Unprotected sex (wrap it people), Reader gets bent over Daryl’s bike 😋, brief use of pet names including little dove, Angel, pretty girl.

Authors note: Guys please, I can’t stop thinking about this photo and scene. This got so out of hand. Genuinely this wasn’t supposed to start as Virgin!Daryl but this story wrote itself istg. I think I blacked out. But virgin Daryl is so special to me. I need to teach this man everything and then some.

Please HMO for a minute.

We all know Older!Daryl wouldn’t risk y’all having sex in the woods or really anywhere outside the house or walls of the community, it’s too dangerous with all the walkers and god forbid some psychos stumble across you. But Younger!Daryl is definitely less responsible. I’m talking Quarry or even Farm era, before the group runs into bad people and realises how fucked up people can get after the world ends. Plus we all know Norman played Daryl like he was a virgin, y’all need to remember that cause I’ve NEVER stopped thinking about it.

Daryl’s never been in a relationship before, and he has no idea why reader even bothers talking to him, let alone dates him. But after a solid month of flirting he finally believed you enough to date you. It’s not that he was hesitant, just skeptical. :(

Everything he knows about sex is from what Merle has told him and porno’s, but he refuses to believe any woman that’s been with Merle has actually enjoyed their time, so he doesn’t take his brothers ‘tips’ into consideration at all. Specifically when he said “Women love it when ya throw yerself at ‘em”, because he’s watched Merle get kicked out by security and pepper sprayed one to many times to believe that for even a second.

So when you came along, he never made the first move, always letting you come to him, maybe the occasional hand on you lower back or brush of your fingers but that’s about it. It was sweet at first, and it’s only been 2 or 3 weeks since you started dating, but you’re starting to crave his touch. It doesn’t help that when you try to initiate sex he blows you off with a muttered “ya gotta go’n a run tomorrow” or any other reason you should go to sleep instead.

Last night you finally spoke to him about it, refusing to let him leave the tent until he answers you. The last thing you want to do is make him uncomfortable, and if he simply doesn’t want to have sex with you, you’ll stop initiating until he’s ready. When you told him that, he looked at you in sheer shock, not surprised shock, but a “that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard” shock.

“S’not that I don’t wanna, trust me, jus’ don’t want ya to think ya have to”

You talked for a bit longer, eventually he begrudgingly told you he’d never had sex before, which took you by surprise because how could a man like him not have been around the block. After that he quickly shut the conversation down, he was obviously embarrassed despite trying to hide the fact, so you let him and quickly fell asleep. But you got what you needed from it already.

The next morning you’re both going on a run, you’re sitting behind him with your arms around his torso, typical backpack stuff. The town you’re going to is a bit farther away than the group would usually go, about a 20 minute drive with no traffic and a throttle heavy redneck driving. Your head is resting against the back of his shoulder lost in thought about last nights conversation, then fading to something a little less pg. thoughts of hands travelling, clothes being shed, and lingering kisses.

Your thumb starts rubbing absent minded circles on Daryl’s stomach, a kiss pressed to his trapezius, then another above that, and another, the last just under his ear. His head turns to the side to try and look back at you briefly before focusing back on the road. You felt his body tense with each kiss, then again when you hands start moving from his stomach to his sides, slowly but firmly. You trail your hands down his thighs, then back to his torso, repeating until his body relaxes again. Your hands move from his front to his back, trailing up his spine and over his shoulders, massaging at the knots caused by his crossbow. It’s only when your hands travel south that he’s tensing up again, electricity shooting through him as your hand travel closer and closer to the ever growing tent in his jeans.

Your hands stop just inches from where he needs you most, lips hovering over his ear asking for permission. You can feel the shaky sigh leave him by the way his back moves under your chest, a nod of his head sends your hands moving immediately. Your fingers ghost over his lap, testing the waters, then wrap around his jeans softly, giving a small squeeze. The bike slowly drifts into the other lane though quickly corrected and it doesn’t take long for the bike to slow down and eventually come to a stop in the middle of the desolate road. Daryl practically falls off the bike once it’s parked, you go to get off too but don’t get past putting both your legs over to one side before Daryl’s hand are on your hips and his lips are on yours. You can’t help the gasp the escapes you, shocked by the boldness of the usually diffident man (when it comes to intimacy).

He steps between your knees until his chest is flush with yours, one of his arms snakes around your back to make sure you don’t fall while the other cups one side of your face. He usually lets you take control of the kiss but he wastes no time deepening it himself, the newfound dominance over this aspect of your relationship has your legs weak. You’ve never been more thankful to be sitting down in your life. Your legs wrap around his waist to pull him flush to you, his hand resting just above your ass tightens as he rolls his hips against you, swallowing the surprised moan that leaves immediately after. You break the kiss long enough to say,

“Who are you and what have you done with my Daryl?”

You tease, a smile playing on your lips before pushing him back and stepping off the bike, turning him around and starting to sink to your knees, but he grabs your arm,

“ ‘Nother time, need ya now”

5 simple words have you nearly buckling at the knees, he pulls you to stand back up and kisses over your neck, rushed and needy as his hands shakily explore your back and sides. Your hands wrap around his shirt and go to pull it over his head but he stops you, pulling away from your neck and looking in your eyes with a look you’ve never seen before, one you didn’t even think he was capable of until now. He doesn’t have to say anything before your letting his shirt go and kissing his cheek, bringing his hands to the hem of your own shirt. You don’t press the subject matter and he’s thankful for that, pulling your shirt over your head and laying it carefully over the bike handles so it doesn’t fall to the dirty road beneath you, the small gesture has your heart fluttering, but you don’t have much time to think it over before his hands are trailing down your bare torso and down to your ass, groping them while eyeing your tits before he speaks,

“Dunno what m’doin”

He admits nervously, it makes you smile how sweet he can be even with his hard on pressing into your stomach. You can feel his hands shaking slightly against your skin.

“Can’t do much with our pants on”

I joke, hoping it’ll make him less nervous and it does, a small chuckle leaving his lips and a playful slap to your ass before his hands are trailing to your front.

“Smartass”

He rasps, lips hovering over your shoulder as he works on your pants, watching you pull them and your panties down over the plush of your ass.

“Y’gotta use your hands first or else it’s gonna hurt”

“M’not that stupid”

He says, making you laugh softly, but it’s short lived when he pushes you to lean against his bike, his hand cupping between your legs. You can’t help the gasp that leaves you at the suddenness of the touch, though you’re not complaining, and you certainly can’t blame the 40 year old virgin for being a bit excited.

Two of his fingers slip between your folds, gathering your slick before flicking his fingers over your clit haphazardly. You wrap a gentle hand around his wrist and guide him slightly further up until he’s in the right place, he watches your head lul back slightly and the quiet moan that leaves your lips. He’s torn between watching your face, his hands, or biting at your neck, his eyes never staying in one place for long, flicking over every inch of your skin.

“S’all fer me, huh?”

He growls, voice low and laced with lust, the sound frequency of his voice rumbling through your body and straight to your core. His fingers dip to your entrance, watching your face as he pushes in a finger slowly, looking for any signs of discomfort. Daryl may be a virgin but he’s not stupid, he knows it can hurt if not dealt with properly, but the speed at which he’s going is torturously slow, you buck your hips with a soft whine in hopes he gets the idea and he does, he pistons his finger starting slow but speeding up slightly, though still slow.

“Feels good baby, keep it slow like this but curl ‘em up gently”

He listens intently, curling his finger up tentatively, testing the waters. When your head falls to his shoulder with a breathy groan he can’t fight the smirk that makes its way across his cheeks, watching your face as he continues to move his fingers, finding what you like and repeating, adding a second finger when you get quieter, then a third until he has to stand between your knees to keep them open.

You pull him into a searing kiss, moaning into his mouth while yours hands work on his belt buckle and palm him over his jeans. He sucks in a breath through his teeth at the touch, a groan leaving his lips involuntarily. He pulls his fingers from your core and locks eyes with you while he licks them clean (gif, lord help me). You have to physically restrain from rolling your eyes, the view shooting straight to your centre. His eyes never leave yours, even while he’s unzipping his pants and pulling himself out, landing heavy in his hand and using your left over arousal on his fingers as lube to stroke himself once, twice, before stepping towards you again.

“Y’ok little dove?”

His constant check for consent makes your stomach sick with butterflies. You nod fervently, muttering a “please” and “need it, need you”. It’s all he needs to wrap an arm around your back and push in slowly, he groans deeply as you surround him, warm and wet. It takes everything in him to not cum right then and there.

“So fuckin’ tight, squeezin’ me like a goddamn vice”

Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, gasping at the stretch and kissing over his neck haphazardly. He stills for a moment until he feels you relax, giving a shallow thrust and watching for your reaction, when he sees no discomfort he pulls back to his tip, pushing in with a sharp thrust. Your head throws back and his lips immediately catch to the skin, but it’s short lived when a squeal leaves your lips and Daryl’s having to hold your body weight up from slipping off the other side of the bike. He situates you on the bike before letting his words run a million miles per second.

“Y’ok? Ya hurt? M’sorry didn’t mean ta’ was jus-“

You cut him off with a short laugh and a kiss, standing from the bike.

“I’m fine Dare”

You say through giggles at his overly worried tone. Your nails rake over his clothed chest softly before you turn around and rest your elbows on the bike seat, looking over your shoulder to look at him. He instantly gets the message and stands behind you, placing a kiss in the middle of your shoulders before sliding back in, a groan rumbling against your skin. He lets you ease up again before he’s repeating his earlier pace but a bit slower, you can already feel him twitch inside you and know he probably won’t last to long. Not that you mind, you expected it. You guide his hand between your legs and his fingers immediately start working your clit. You were already close from him prepping you, and the noises muffled against the skin of your shoulder could get you to the edge alone.

“I ain’t gonna last”

Daryl admits breathily, his hips already losing rhythm and his fingers sloppy. He angles his hips in a way that has your eyes rolling, a desperate moan of his name while your nails dig into the leather of his bike. Your walls tightening has him pulling out with a grunt, his hand leaving your clit and stroking himself for not even a second before he lets out a guttural moan and you feel the warm spurts of his cum paint your ass. He leans forwards over your back to kiss your shoulder, heavy breaths fogging your brain.

“You’re a fuckin Angel”

He breaths into your ear, hand returning to your bundle of nerves

“Need ya to come for me, pretty girl”

His voice is low and raspy, though laced with satisfaction. His fingers are working fast and messy so you place your hand over his and with your own fingers over his, silently show him to move them in small circles. The change has you gasping his name and grabbing at the bike again, his other hand pushes 2 fingers inside you and his lips leave kisses over your back.

“Doin so good fer me, just like that baby”

And that’s all you need to be pushed over the edge, legs shaking and you lean your full weight onto the bike. Daryl hums in approval against your back.

“Just like that, there’s my girl.”

His fingers slip from your core and trail soothingly over your sides and back, his other hand slowing down significantly as he helps you ride out your orgasm, only letting up when your moans raise in pitch and legs try to close around his hand.

When you finally stand from the bike and spin to face him, he places a doting kiss to your lips. A smile creeping up both of your faces.

[ddejavvu]

Hello i had an idea for a Spencer fic! So the BAU team have a party and Spencer's sitting by himself cause he doesn't drink and he feels awkward and reader goes to sit with him to comfort him about how he doesn't have to drink to have fun. They spend the rest of the night together and Spencer asks if they could hang out more at some point :,)

Spencer's not alone, but he's not exactly with the group, either. He's sitting at the end of the table, and you remember Penelope had been with him at the start, but now she's several shots deep in Emily's lap, trying to peer down Morgan's shirt.

Spencer's tapping a long, lithe finger against the table like a metronome, his plush pink lip tucked beneath his front teeth as he stares into his water glass. There's shrieking and laughter from the opposite end of the table but you vacate your seat, beelining for the BAU's youngest member.

"You're not drinking, Reid?" You maintain a slight air of professionality, forgoing JJ's nickname, 'Spence', because you're still less than a month into joining the team. Spencer's kind with you- everyone is, but you're trying not to overstep.

"Oh, I'm not much of a drinker," He smiles, his chin angled up slightly, "I just prefer water."

"I don't blame you. Drinking makes me sleepy." You admit, "I'd pass out in half an hour if I tried Rossi's concoction."

"His cocktails are lethal," Reid's nose wrinkles, "He says it's because he's an old man and he needs the strong stuff. I just think he doesn't like having to pay attention to any of us when we talk."

"Both are probably true," You take the seat across from Spencer at the vacant side of the table, "You don't bring anything else to do? I know you usually carry a book with you."

"It's in my bag." Spencer grimaces, "Everyone always makes fun of me when I read instead of drinking, so I don't anymore."

"Go get it." You urge, "I have one in my bag too. They could- y'know, make fun of us."

Spencer's eyes narrow in thought, his brow furrowed slightly as he glances past you at the rest of the team. They're not paying attention to either of you anymore, too caught up in their own fun, and he reaches for the bag draped over the back of his chair.

It's thick, heavy, and looks like a volume that should be gathering dust in a magic library. But he opens it to a page near the beginning, and is already turning to the next before you can wrench your book out of your own bag.

You settle into the groove of reading, a comfortable silence that Spencer looks much happier with than sitting alone. He turns pages faster than you can fathom, and it's incredible to know he's reading every word the same as you are.

"You know," He starts, his eyes still on the page, "There's a nice cafe a few blocks down from work. I go there and read on Saturday mornings if we're not on a case. It's quiet, it's- good for reading." He chances a glance up at you, and finds you hooked on his every word.

"Yeah?"

"You should come with me sometime." He notes, his voice purposefully casual, "Uh, they have good croissants."

"I like croissants." You smile, "I'm free this Saturday, Reid."

"You can call me Spencer," He offers, "Uh- Morgan has his phone out."

Morgan is, in fact, taking pictures of you and Spencer with your books out, and you're sure they'll appear in your team group chat within the minute. But you don't care, and you knock your foot against Spencer's beneath the table.

"I'll be there at nine, Spencer."

[hoodoo12]

Sweltering

First and foremost, fuck this heat. I've always preferred colder to warmer, and nowadays the summer is just a hellscape. Therefore, a story.

It's too hot outside, and The Ghost with the Most thinks he has a way to cool you down. NSFW.

It was stupid hot. Inside with no air conditioning was worse, so you were out on the patio in your backyard in nothing more than the thinnest tank top you owned and underwear. You’d brought a fan that was specifically labeled “for indoor use only!” out, plugged in by multiple extension cords that also said to only use them indoors, and had it going full blast right at your body.

You were sweating through what little clothing you had on. Your brain felt melted. The ice cream sandwich you thought would help cool you down did nothing.

Without warning or fanfare, Beetlejuice appeared at your side.

You hadn’t called him. You just never re-said his name after the last time you’d summoned him, and now this was the arrangement. He just came and went how he pleased, like a tom cat. You hoped he didn’t fuck around like an unneutered cat, but you were also realistic. There was never any label to the thing you had with him, although there was something to be said in that he kept returning.

“Jesus! You’re wearing that suit? It’s over 95 degrees out here!” you complained at him. Then you took a lick around the edge of the ice cream, because it was melting faster than your brain.

The ghost looked down over himself.

“Well fuckin' good day to you too,” he grumbled. “And what’s wrong with my suit?”

“I already said it was so damn hot! How can you wear that in this heat?!”

He rolled his eyes. “Because I’m a dead guy, sweetcheeks. I don’t feel the heat. I don’t feel the cold. It’s all the same to me.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, in both disbelief and a titch of jealousy. “Must be nice.”

He shrugged. “I suppose. If you mean not feeling much of anything.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “You don’t feel much of anything? Then why’re you sporting a boner behind your fly?”

Instead of being embarrassed, a reaction that would have surprised you, he rubbed his palm over his crotch as he leered down at you. “My dick’s hard because you’re laying in front of me basically nude, baby, with sticky white stuff dripping all over your hand.”

Your ice cream! In the seconds you’d forgotten about it, it melted just as he said, leaving trails down your hand and wrist. With an inarticulate cry of surprised dismay, you immediately started to lick the mess off your hand, mostly managing to smear wet sugar over your skin instead of actually removing it.

“You know, I’ve got something just as chilly that’d fit in your mouth.”

Your tongue still in your palm, you flicked a glance at him. You’d expect nothing less from the ghost watching what you were doing with keen, hungry interest. Beetlejuice hadn’t stopped rubbing himself through his trousers and you saw him give himself a squeeze that was none to gentle.

“Oh?” you replied innocently. “You think something like that’d cool me down?”

“Fuckin’ heat you up, more like,” he growled. “I know how much you like suckin’ my cock.”

This hadn’t been on your agenda today, but his unexpected arrival did make you think dirty thoughts. Shoving the remaining bite of the ice cream sandwich into your mouth, you gave up trying to clean off your hand and spun in the lounge chair so he was between your legs. Looking up at him, you grinned even as you reached for the button and zipper on his trousers.

As your fingers undid the fastenings, you said, “This is all for me then, huh? Sucking you off is all for me, because you don’t feel much of anything?”

You dug into the front of his pants--he never wore underwear, so you didn’t have to contend with that barrier--and eased his cock out. Grub-pale and heavy in your hand, it did have a distinct chill that wasn’t unpleasant in this blasted heat.

Beetlejuice looked down at you with half-lidded eyes, drawing a thumb over his lower lip. “I think you know the answer to that, babydoll. Now you just gonna sit there? That sandworm isn’t gonna suck itself.”

Even as you rolled your eyes again that he called his dick a sandworm, you obediently opened your mouth and he rocked his hips. Because you were holding him by the base of his cock, it was the perfect position to slip between your lips and onto your tongue. You loosened your jaw; you knew he tended to pop himself forward once in your mouth and--

Beetlejuice thrust, his cock filling your mouth almost to your throat.

--yep, there it was.

The second he was encased in your mouth, you sucked him hard.

He groaned. A hand went to the back of your head and fingers entangled into your hair. You gave him a few sucking strokes, and on one of the outward pulls, he yanked back a little so your face tilted backward.

“Look up at me,” he ordered.

You barely contained another eye roll. Instead, you concentrated on doing as he asked, keeping your eyes trained upward as best you could bobbing on his cock. Along with the movement, you alternated swirling your tongue around him and applying heavy solid suction. He’d been correct; his cock was chilly in your mouth, although not quite as cold as the ice cream had been and nowhere near as tasty.

The ghost continued to groan and now gasp at each sensation you wrung from him. He tipped his head back, and you saw his throat work as he swallowed.

Without warning, you pulled off him. He gasped again, for a different reason, and dropped his gaze back to you. His mouth was open and he looked a little stuporous, as well as surprised.

“Look at me,” you ordered him.

He swallowed again and nodded quickly. You quirked an eyebrow at him as if to silently say he better not forget to keep his eyes trained downward. Then, keeping your eyes locked on his, you went back to work with even more vigor.

There was a little more intimacy, with direct eye contact. As much intimacy as sitting outside in basically nothing, sucking a basically fully clothed ghost’s cock could be. You laughed as best you could with that cock down your throat at what you must look like and what the neighbors would think if they happened to see you. Beetlejuice continued to moan and tightened his hand in your hair, as if he thought you were laughing at him. His hips rocked forward to shove himself in a little deeper.

The head of his cock choked off your air supply and cut your chuckle short. Now it was his turn to cock an eyebrow at you, daring you to say something or stop. Without taking your mouth off him you narrowed your eyes and worked him even harder.

You sucked, your swirled, you didn’t swallow any of the thick spit blowing him built up in your mouth. It ran out of your mouth and soaked your chin and neck; when you deep throated him it drenched his rat’s nest of pubic hair and trousers. Pulling back after keeping him fully inside you raised your eyes again. He locked eyes with yours even as drool beaded on his own lower lip. It became too heavy to remain there, and a thin droplet of it fell.

He licked his lip then. “Your fuckin’ mouth baby,” he muttered.

“Uh-huh,” you were able to reply, since that was easier than actual words. He seemed to want to choke out some words, however, so you slowed.

“Told you it was better, didn’t I?” he reminded you. “Nice isn’t it, something that’s cold in that hot mouth of yours that doesn’t melt right away? Fuck, baby, you gonna edge me so you can keep going? You gonna want to keep my cock in your mouth as long as possible--”

That was exactly what you didn’t want. Already his babbling grated on your nerves, like he was the one in charge here. You took him as deep as possible again, with your nose pressed into the wet hair over his pubic bone. Beetlejuice interrupted himself with an open-mouthed groan. You’d have smiled at the power you had over him, but that would break the suction.

Keeping his cock exactly where it was, you used your tongue to press it up against your hard palate for some variety in sensation and paused a second to breathe through your nose. You couldn’t tilt your head up enough to look him in the face again, but from the now involuntary jerks his body gave and the rhythmic tightening of his fingers in your hair, you didn’t need to see his expression to know that he was damn close to blowing his load down your throat.

As if on cue, he rasped, “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come--”

You left off the heavy suction for a second.

“Down your throat or on your skin, baby?”

His come would have a distinctly different taste in the back of your throat than the ice cream you’d eaten, so you answered him by releasing him and pulling back a bit. You caught his eyes again, dark even in the sunlight, and grinned up at him. His hand left your hair and went to his own cock.

Beetlejuice gave a slightly different groan at seeing you displayed in front of him. His hand stroked his length easily due to the amount of spit you’d laved him with. You gathered some of the spit that had dripped to your chest and smeared it, making yourself shiny. With the breeze from the fan, your nipples peaked. The grin didn’t leave your face.

The ghost jerked himself off, and broke the rule about keeping eye contact with you. His eyes were riveted to your chest. That was okay; you couldn’t help watching his cock disappear and reappear in his own hand, his pace increasing the closer he got to finishing. When he leaned over and used your shoulder for balance, you knew his end was inevitable.

He squeezed the head of his cock between his thumb and forefinger, then gave another frantic jerk and cried out as he came. Thick, off-white come spurted onto your upper chest, and it was just as chilly as his cock had been. You gasped as it painted you, and you couldn’t help taking one hand to smear it thinly over your skin. It was only slightly less tacky than the ice cream that had melted earlier. His nails dug into your shoulder, and you shrugged it to remind him that you were still a breather and didn’t really appreciate the pain.

Once his cock stopped pulsing and the last of his ejaculate dribbled out, he blew his breath out like he’d run a marathon.

The spunk you’d smeared was even cooler when the air from the fan hit it. You knew the sensation wouldn’t last long, but it was nice for the moment.

“You’re pretty hot, baby,” Beetlejuice complimented.

You gave him a look. “Yeah. I know. That’s the whole problem.”

He smirked and took your upper arm, hauling you to your feet.

“Why don’t I try to cool you down--now gimme a chance to explain, baby!” he said over your attempt to interrupt him. “My entire body is just as chilly as my dick, sweetheart, so me laying on top of you or you laying on top of me is gonna help. And when I say my entire body, I mean my tongue too, so just imagine what that’ll feel like tickling up between your legs. Cool you down from the inside out.”

When he put it that way . . .

Beetlejuice grinned as your expression softened into compliance.

“Come on baby,” he continued. “Let’s get inside where I can really concentrate. Unless you wanna continue to give the neighbors a free show?”

“What?!” you squawked, scrambling for your bra to cover yourself.

He laughed and didn’t let you grab it, pulling you along with him into the house and up to your bedroom. As far as a sweltering day went, at least a corpse-cold lover helped make it better.

fin!

[affableramen]

no nut november. when they try to unnoticeably watch you undress

ᡣ𐭩 mature themes, spicy but not smutty, pre-relationship

ᡣ𐭩 neuvillette, pantalone x fem!reader

Neuvillette

“Here, I wholeheartedly hope you’ll find them to your liking. I’m deeply sorry the rain soaked you, you must have least expected that.”

“It’s alright, though I’m soaked to the bone, I have monsieur Neuvillette taking care of me”, you smile widely at him as he hands you the bag full of clothes. The sovereign dragon had no problem flying to the nearest mall and buying you new clothes in order to replace your soaking ones. You can’t fly, but he doesn’t want you to catch cold right in front of his eyes.

You opened the bag and took a look at the clothes. They were really fancy ones, and Neuvillette’s sharp intuition guided him into the right size.

“Wow, monsieur Neuvillette they are all my size. They should all fit.”

“I’m extremely glad in that case”, he clears his throat. “I will leave you to change. I’ll wait in the vestibule.

“Of course.”

He reached the exit and closed the door behind him but a really thin hole could give a quick peek to someone who was in the room. Neuvillette was above taking that chance and did not plan on witnessing you get rid of your soaked layers of clothes—he’s already probably seen too much, given how your white tight shirt would stick to your cleavage.

He sighed. Perhaps you already started undressing. These nasty thoughts wouldn’t come off from his head and would not leave him alone. Neuvillette entirely missed the moment when he started thinking dirty of you. All this sexual stuff was so new and unlike him. But knowing that you were soaked and changing in his office made him experience the most obscene thoughts lingering on the bottom of his mind.

“Please tell me once you’re finished”, he cleared his throat. “Unfortunately we’re so busy today I cannot give you more time than I would prefer.”

“I understand”, your voice sounds louder, you must be heading right to the door. “I finished, monsieur, and I thank you so much for getting me those.”

Once you open the door you’re met with an incredibly perplexed and almost embarrassed stare.

“Do leave me a receipt, I shall cover them all.”

“Nonsense. It was a gift.”

“I’m afraid I cannot accept gifts from my employer.”

“Please do, after all I’m partially the reason you’re caught up in the rain; had I not asked you on your day off you would not have gotten targeted by unappealing weather conditions.”

“You’re too kind to me, monsieur.”

You go back to your cubicle not realising how deeply Neuvillette experienced desire to see more of you—a single more inch of your delicate skin.

Pantalone

“Here, this should be your size. You agree how this one is less tight and more comfy than your original outfit, don’t you?” Pantalone gives you a sweet smile, his eyes shut when he does so, and his long black eyelashes stand out proudly on his face.

“This should do. If I knew we had a training today, I wouldn’t wear my formal dress at the first place.”

You take the neatly wrapped training sport suit from his indigo-gloved hands and give it a quick quality check.

“This one is really well made. I truly like it.”

“Did you doubt our private tailors?”

“Not one bit, Regrator”, you turn away from him, facing the window, your skin glowing lit and bright in the face of Pantalone’s dark figure.

“Your formal tight-fit dress deserves a reward, sweetie, but you might have difficulties fighting in it.”

“I have no problem wearing the outfit you provided me with”, you say as you start quickly changing. Regrator’s interest is picked when he hears the ruffling of clothes. His ears perk up to each sound coming from you, but he stays turned away, with his back facing you.

“I’m glad if so.”

Just when what seems to be heavy fabric sound dropping onto the floor grabbing Pantalone’s attention, he swallows a heavy feeling in his throat. He knows what part of you is presumably naked right now and fight the urge to not peek. He is a gentleman, not a dog in heat.

But when you unclasp your bra to put the sport top on, Pantalone’s head slowly turns to your side. He takes a very subtle, quick look of the curve of your shoulder and arm. Your back muscles fascinate him. Afraid that you might notice him—what are you going to think?—he immediately looks away and forces a fake polite smile as usual.

“Well, how long am I going to wait? Tick-tock, my dear.”

“Have you never undressed a woman before? Surely you know it’s difficult to be quick.”

“Oh…”

The later process is surrounded by utter silence. Upon you finishing, Pantalone who has been dying every second while you were changing, says at last:

“Not bad.”

“Think so too.” You aim to the exit, but he grabs your shoulder. You’re suddenly stopped, but he immediately softens his touch and loosens his grip, his hand rubbing your shoulder as if giving you a massage. The gesture feels somehow encouraging and intimate at the same moment.

“Be careful, alright? I fancy seeing your body back in one piece.”

[aijunbi]

XOXO, UR ANNOYING SPIDEY — M.S.

'' every time i'm walkin' out , i can hear you tellin' me to turn around .ᐣ.ᐟ ''

── • when the friendly neighborhood spider-girl find ways to annoy you, with love of course!

── • fluff , taking care of wounds , kissing (poorly written imo) , one argument (hurt/comfort)

── • thought i'd switch up my style for a min and see how it looks. divider cr: @cafekitsune

── ♪ now playing : sunflower – post malone, swae lee

🕸️ .WEBSTRING. ゜– prologue

"LOOK AT HER! ISN'T SHE SO PRETTY?" hanni points to one of the cheerleaders, totally enamoured by her beauty. frankly, you couldn't care less because you were too busy thinking about a certain ginger cheerleader who was currently missing from the sidelines. hanni notices your distracted behavior and smiles smugly at you. "you miss megan don't you?" she wiggles her eyebrow in amusement like what she said was the funniest thing ever.

you snap your head towards her with a sharp glare, your eyes narrowed and threatening– with no actual malicious intent. "shut up, no i don't. you're getting the wrong idea," you argued. your chin was on the palm of your hand, your elbow resting on your knee. hanni only rolls her eyes and goes back to watching the game.

"what are you thinking of then?" she questions. you merely shrug.

"the cheerleaders are about to perform but she's not here."

"mm, sad you can't see her dance around?" now it was your turn to roll your eyes, your free hand coming up to push her head away. "it's not like that," you say. "i'm gonna go to the bathroom." you got up from the bleachers and left hanni alone to mumble insults by herself. upon entering the restroom, you saw megan trying to get out of a– spider-girl suit? why in the world would she have that?

"shit, shit, i'm gonna be so late," she rambles, unaware of your presence. when she turned around to be met with your face, her eyes widened in shock and her lips parted. "you're not... you're not supposed to see this.."

"you're spider-girl?" you point an accusing finger at her as if she wasn't wearing the suit right in front of your eyes. "i can explain!" megan exclaims. "what's there to explain, you're literally wearing–"

"ok, later! i'm gonna be late to the cheer performance. can you just... help me out of this?" she pleads, holding both of her hands up as she tried to reason with you. "i don't get out of this suit well under pressure."

"...yeah, i-i guess." you walk over to her and began to help her get out of the suit. once she was out, she looks more like a high schooler in her cheer uniform than some superhero saving the city. "i'll pay you back somehow, uh..."

"yn."

"yn! i'll pay the favor back soon," she promised. "you save the city already, there's no need–" you were interrupted by megan.

"no! no, i should! i can, uhm, swing you around the city if you want." the offer was tempting, but with your fear of heights, you weren't exactly sure. "think about it! thank you, again." she stuffs the suit back into her backpack and dashed towards the door. before fully leaving, she pauses and looks back with a smile on her face. "see you around, pretty?"

you almost choked on air when she called you that. it was totally out of the blue! "okay..." you nod. when she finally left, you let out a shaky breath, your hand clamping over your mouth. you can see the pinkish tint of your cheeks through the mirror, and you can feel the warmth and your heart beating through your chest. megan was so smooth for someone with no conscience of their actions, and it somehow made you a blushing mess. "how annoying."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

🩹 .ADHESIVE. ゜

THREE KNOCKS ON YOUR WINDOW distracted you from your textbooks. it was weird, and fairly creepy, that something was knocking on your window considering how late it was. you grab one of your heavy dictionaries and got up from your seat, holding the book near yourself as you lifted your blinds. it was a dumb move but the person outside was even dumber. "what're you doing here, spidey?" you asked after you opened the window, seeing megan standing there, clutching her side.

"oh? nickname basis already?" megan chuckles, but it sounded weak. she was a coughing fit not even a few seconds later. even breathing made her chest hurt. "you said you're in a medical program right?" you nod, unsure of what megan wanted from you. "can you help me?"

"do you always need help?"

"i'm serious! look!" she shows you the deep cut underneath her hand, blood dripping down her fingers as she held her side. your eyes widened in concern and you immediately pull her in, opening the window wider for her to enter. "what the fuck did you do?" you exclaimed while your eyes took in all of the scrapes and bruises. megan only shrugs, and you fight back every urge to hit her.

"i saved the day?"

"yeah, no shit sherlock. it was rhetorical." not wanting blood to stain your bed, you sat her down on your chair at your desk. fortunately, you kept a first aid box in your drawer. "don't make too much noise. my parents are asleep and they don't need to know spider-girl is in my room."

"you got it, ma'am." her hand came up to do a salute but it was hurting too much to keep it there. "ow.."

"i need this suit off," you said, but the smug grin and teasing look on megan's face makes you want to punch her. "stop with that look. i'm being deadass right now. i can't treat your wounds correctly."

"okay, okay, sorry..." it took about five minutes to get her out of the suit, four minutes longer compared to the first time, mostly due to how she was whining in pain. by the time the suit was off, she was left in a t-shirt and shorts. "jesus, you look like adam sandler," you pointed out.

"was that necessary?" megan frowned.

"no, but it had to be said." you opened the first aid box and grabbed a nearby cloth, making sure it's clean before putting it on her cut and applying slight pressure onto the wound. megan winces in pain, throwing her head back on the chair.

"i'm being as gentle as i can, you crybaby. stay still!" you scolded. when the bleeding was reduced to a minimum, you removed the bloody cloth from her cut, grimacing upon seeing the fabric soaked in red fluid. "oh my god.." you toss the cloth somewhere else, deciding it'll be a future you problem. right now, you're focused on wrapping bandages around her.

you lift her shirt, ordering her to hold it up for you, before grabbing the roll of bandages in the med kit. you unroll it and placed it over her wound, wrapping around her stomach a few times. once done, you got up and went over to your closet, getting one of your oversized shirts for megan– since she was taller than you by a whole lot. you toss her the shirt and turned around to let her change.

"you don't have to turn around, y'know?" she said while putting on the shirt.

"i feel obligated to," you shrugged. "that's stupid," she laughed. "ok, you can turn around now." you turned around to face her but all the air gets knocked out of your lungs. who knew she would look nice in your clothes, let alone look better in it than you do. "what? do i look pretty?" megan taunted.

"yeah– no. what?" you stuttered, blinking a couple times to get your act together. she only chuckles and shake her head, leaning back into the chair. you noticed how her face was pretty messed up and felt the need to take care of that too. "how well do you do with rubbing alcohol?" you ask vaguely. she seemed to have gotten the memo based on how terrified she looked.

"no! no. no. we're not doing that." she tried to protest but you were already soaking a cotton ball with the liquid. "yn..." she begged, clasping her hand together. "you don't have to be so cruel!"

"except for the fact i'm not cruel? you're just whiny." you dab at a cut on her cheek, and a hiss comes through her lips, her fingers gripping onto the arms of the chair to keep herself from whacking your arm away. "spidey, i swear to god if you don't sit still..." your patience was thinning at her squirming, but a part of you couldn't help but feel bad. "come on, i promise it'll be over in a jiffy."

megan was hesitant but eventually nods, giving into your sweet coaxing. over the course of about three minutes, megan felt like she was traveling to and back from hell. the burns of the alcohol was seeping into the cuts around her face, a deep frown implanting itself onto her forehead. "is it done? are we done? am i done?"

"almost." you throw the cotton ball into the trash, taking a mental note to throw away the trash and cloth in the morning. "just a few more small bandaids and you can rest." megan whines as you began to placed tiny bandaids on her wounds, wanting the night to be over with. "there. now, we're officially done."

megan internally cheers but remembered she has to go back home. maybe she could've treated her own wounds at her place instead of being fifteen minutes away from the comfort of her bed. "can i sleep over?" your head snaps towards her, a bewildered look in your eyes. you've never agreed to any of this and only did it out of the kindess of your own heart. so why couldn't you deny her request?

"...yeah. sure. you've had enough on your plate for one night." you went over to your bed, fixing up a couple things to make space for her. you placed a pillow and a blanket on the floor next to your bed. "i'll sleep on the floor."

"what? why? it's your bed," megan argued, getting up from the chair, putting the pillow and blanket back on the bed. "it'll be fine, right?" you couldn't come up with an excuse as to why sleeping in the same bed would be a bad idea, so you gave in. "guess not..." you mumble. you climbed in first, your side pressed against the wall as you tried to keep a reasonable amount of space between you two.

megan giggled and got in afterwards, staying on her side of the bed. there was an awkward moment until megan looks at you and opens her arms. you stared at her in disbelief, but you also wanted to be held by her. "come here," she beckoned. you shake your head and she kept persisting. it went back and forth for a while until megan had enough and pulled you in herself, tucking your head in her chest. "see? was it that hard?" she teased when she felt you melt into her.

"shut up, you're so annoying."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

💬 .FIRST QUARREL. ゜(suggestive)

MEGAN WAS TOO PROTECTIVE. she was constantly checking up on you during patrol or getting distracted trying to see if you're safe or not, resulting in her getting heavily injured. you were flattered at first, but it has gotten way too out of hand. you couldn't even go out with her not watching your every move from a nearby rooftop or whatnot!

you were walking in the streets, your mind wandering of how you could talk about this to her, ignoring the buzzing of your phone. suddenly, a loud noise roared behind you and a loud stomp made it feel like an earthquake was happening. you turned around to see some funny looking guy in a suit the size of hulk, his vision trained on you.myou swallowed hard, your feet slowly backing up with every step the villain took towards you.

spider-girl swings in a second later, her foot colliding with his face, sending him down. the fall was quite hard since the suit was heavy and practically made out of metal. megan quickly rushed over to you, pulling you into the nearby alleyway. "what're you doing? i texted you multiple times to go somewhere safe!"

"well i didn't see them! so stop blaming me so much!" you snapped, your hands shoving her chest, pushing her back. she moves your hand away a little roughly. "if you checked your phone, you would've!" she argues.

"megan, have you ever thought that you're too protective? because you are! every waking moment is you checking if i'm okay when i am!" you let out a frustrated huff, your hands on your hips. "it's getting annoying."

"i'm just watching out for you! you're a huge target since an enemy saw you with me!" her voice falters for a moment before she recollected herself. "i almost lost you once, and i'm not taking any more risks!" she referred to when you got kidnapped and held hostage, which made you end up in the hospital with serious injuries. you were barely breathing when she found you. "if i had arrived a minute later then, you wouldn't be here right now."

"that was then. spidey, it's been six months–"

"six months or not, it could've happened again today!" she raised her voice, surprising you a little. "you don't know the other universe i've been to, and in every single one of them, you weren't here with me." her resolve was slightly cracking, her chest rising and falling with every sentence she shouted at you. your lips parted in shock, your brain short-circuiting for a hot minute.

"i..." you stammered. you remember her talking about it a while ago, and how it scared her for a long period of time. you knew it was a sensitive topic. your hands cautiously held her face, your thumb rubbing her cheek over her mask. "but i'm here with you, right now, in this universe." she leaned into your touch while listening to your words carefully. "you don't have to worry so much."

"but i have to."

you shake your head, your fingers lifting her mask to only reveal her lips. "no you don't. deep down, if you think i'm safe and sound, then i most definitely am, okay?" you lean in and place a soft, reassuring kiss on her lips. you were about to pull away when megan places her hands on your waist, pulling you closer to her body. your eyes flutter closed and you relaxed into the kiss, your arms wrapping themselves around her shoulders.

you tilt your head to the side as your arms tightened around megan, feeling like there was too much space between you. a small whimper escaped her lips and it drove you crazy. the sound of your lips on each other filled the quiet alleyway. your nails dug into her back when she broke away and trailed down to your neck, her lips peppering featherlight kisses onto the curve of your jaw.

her thumbs snuck its way under your shirt, grazing the soft skin of your stomach. you arched your back a little further, letting her pull you flush against her front. your hands slid down slowly, from her back to her shoulders to her chest, clutching on her suit as you move your head to give her easier access to your neck. until a loud ringing tone from megan's phone broke you two away from each other. megan groans and takes her phone out, seeing it's the police needing her to help clear up the scene and to calm down the civilians.

"well... i gotta go..." she began, looking at you with a knowing look. "but..."

"you know where you should be tonight," you said. she grins and plants another kiss on your lips. "you bet i do."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

🤍 .ALL YOURS. ゜(slightly suggestive at end)

A SOFT KNOCK AT YOUR WINDOW let you know that megan was outside on the fire escape right outside your room. you smile to yourself, hanging the towel you were using to dry your hair over your chair. you walked over to the window, opening your blinds and lifting the glass upwards.

"hey, ma," megan greeted when you opened the window. she was upside down, her hands holding onto the web at held her up. you only rolled your eyes playfully, your elbows coming to rest on the window frame. "what're you doing here, spidey?" you ask but there was no signs of you wanting her to leave.

"what? can't i see my favorite girl?" her head leaned in and placed a soft, lingering kiss on your lips despite her mask still fully covering her face. you giggle at the absurdity of it all, your hands reaching up to lift her mask to reveal her lips.

"kiss me properly, idiot," you demanded playfully. megan listens and leaned in again, your lips officially connecting with hers. the kiss was tender, gentle– anything you would describe a kiss full of love. when you break away, you could only laugh, your head dipping and your shoulders shaking. "i can't with you being upside down," you chuckled.

"i can get down if you want." she didn't even wait for your answer when she let go of the web and landed on the fire exit with a small thud. you moved aside to let her climb through the window, making sure to make as little noise as possible so you both don't wake up your parents. "how's my angel?" she questions, her arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you into another kiss.

"never been better," you giggled, your head tilting up to meet her lips. "what about my pretty girl? everything alright? no injuries?"

"all clean and safe." she raised her hands up in mock surrender, showing no signs of serious wounds. your smile only widened and you engulf her into a hug. she hugged you back immediately, her arms wrapping around your torso, her hands resting on the small of your back. she buried her nose into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo mixed with your natural calming scent. "you smell so good, baby."

"do i?" you ask, flattered. she nods, her finger brushing away the stray hairs from your face. "i need to dry my hair."

"no, keep it like this. at least for a couple more minutes," she pleaded, smelling your hair again. "it smells really good."

"i can always give you my shampoo."

"mm, i like it better on you." you laugh, your head falling onto her shoulder. "have i ever told you how annoying you are, spidey?" you ask. megan pretends to ponder before lamely putting up her index finger like a nerd. "you have. multiple times. but i'm your annoying spidey, aren't i?"

"mhm," you hum softly, pecking her on the lips. "you're all mine."

"well i hoped i was." she gently places a hand on your chest, pushing back onto your bed. she crawled on top of you right after, her lips already sucking on your neck hungrily. "i'm afraid your hair won't be dry for a while," she murmured, her voice muffled by your skin.

"i'm fine with that."

– fin. –

@cinnamanz @ninguitar @lararajjj i lowk forgot my taglist

[babyleostuff]

s/o being afraid of storms | ot13

ᥫ᭡ theme: fluff & comfort ᥫ᭡ warnings: generally gn!reader, but mentions of makeup with seungkwan

[ ☁️ ] seungcheol

he’d probably hold you through the whole storm, because no place is safer than your boyfriend’s arms. of course he’d do the basic stuff, like playing music to drown out the sound of thunder or he’d put on your favourite movie and order tons of food to distract you from the weather, but one thing would be sure - the whole time you’d be securely placed in his embrace, even while he’d be walking around the apartment to gather all of the necessarily supplies. he’d have your arms wrapped around his waist, and one of his hands holding your head against his chest.

[ ☁️ ] jeonghan

similarly to cheol, hannie would opt for physical touch to calm you down. you’d be lying in your bed, under tons of blankets with you wrapped up in one of his fluffiest cardigans. your head would stay on his chest the whole time, right above his heart, so you could hear his heartbeat, and jeonghan would gently rub your back, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles to lessen your anxiety. between talking and moments of silence, jeonghan would hum or sing quietly, his lips moving against your forehead in a calming manner, reminding you that he’s there and won’t let anything bad happen to you.

[ ☁️ ] joshua

you’d take a nice bath together. joshua has his notifications on for the weather in case of a storm, so he could call or text you beforehand if you were apart, or prepare something to take your mind off the thunder and heavy rain - and he usually goes for a bath. not only is the storm less audible in your bathroom, but you also get to spend some quality time together, in such an intimate but domestic way. he’d light on some candles for the mood, add your favourite scented soaps to the bubble bath, set the takeout next to the tub so it’s easy for you to reach you’d end up sitting face to face with shua gently running his hand over your calf to remind you that he’s there with you, ready to protect you from any thunder and storm.

[ ☁️ ] jun

would build a fort in your living room. jun would try to make a bit of a fool out of himself to cheer you up and make you laugh, as you’d carry all the blankets, pillows, and plushies you could find lying around your house. the fort in itself would probably collapse a couple of times, and you’d have to pull out a youtube tutorial to make one that would actually last for more than two minutes. jun would hang up some fairy lights, and you would be busy ordering takeout, already wearing his hoodie (his clothes add +100 to your comfort). he’d make you so giggly and giddy about the fort that you’d barely pay any attention to the thunder and rain.

[ ☁️ ] hoshi

would try to distract you by coming up with the most random ass activities. hoshi is an endless source of energy and crazy (and sometimes very questionable) ideas. he would have no problem setting up a yoga studio in your room so you could do "partner yoga" (at one point you thought that soonyoung broke your rib because he didn't catch you and you fell to the ground) or doing a thousand different tik tok challenges that he has saved in a separate folder on your phone. you can rarely be bored with hoshi, so his infectious energy would be a good way to take your mind of the storm, but if he noticed that his ways of calming you down wouldn’t be working, he would gently drag you to the couch, wrap you in a blanket and sit next to you throughout the storm until it passed.

[ ☁️ ] wonwoo

having a boyfriend who’s obsessed with gaming is like a dream come true in this scenario. he’d place you on his lap, a blanket around your shoulders, headphones covering your ears, with one of his hands resting on your thigh or waist, and the other showing you which keys on the keyboard to press. wonwoo would keep his head propped up against your shoulder or nuzzled into your neck if he saw you were doing fine on your own, and whenever you’d manage to kill an enemy or pass a level, he’d place a kiss on your cheek, successfully making you forget about the storm raging outside.

[ ☁️ ] woozi

you know what i’m going to say. you’d either be in his studio at home, or in the universe factory, you - closely snuggled to jihoon’s side, and woozi - with an arm tightly wrapped around your shoulder, his lips resting against your temple or forehead. you’d both share earphones, so you could still hear your boyfriend explaining the details of whichever song you’d be currently listening to, like the lyrics, production, beat, etc etc. and if you were up for it, woozi would be more than happy to indulge you in making a song as well. you’d come up with some silly lyrics that wouldn’t make much sense, a wilde beat, funny adlibs. all the good stuff.

[ ☁️ ] dk

i feel like he wouldn’t have like a specific thing he’d do - it would all depend on the day, how bad the storm would be, and how scared you’d be. seokmin would definitely stay close to you, no matter what - his hand would always be holding yours, or at least the sleeve of your shirt so if the lightning struck he’d be right next to you to comfort you, and wrap you up in a safe bubble (which is his arms). on some days you’d watch a movie, on others you’d cuddle under the blankets - the biggest priority for dk is to hold you and keep you safe.

[ ☁️ ] mingyu

chef mingyu comes into action - IT’S TIME TO COOK! gyu would put on some music (probably your shared playlist), take out all of the ingredients (when you asked him what he was about to cook he just laughed and said he’d be improvising), and in his clingy puppy fashion would make you stand between him and the kitchen counter. the whole evening would be filled with your shared laughs, your boyfriends whines, and you running after mingyu after he ate some of your food, and you’d forget about the storm in no time (which makes mingyu feel so warm and fuzzy because it’s only a testament on how safe you feel with him). 

[ ☁️ ] minghao

he would read to you. the second he’d notice the first signs of the storm or when he’d get a notification on his phone about an incoming storm, he’d gently pull you towards your bedroom - your safe space, give you a change of clothes (his clothes) so you could be comfy, and lay next to you, having you snuggled close to him under the covers. you’d still be able to hear the thunder outside, but thanks to minghao’s gentle voice you wouldn’t pay a single attention to it. his soothing touch, and his calming voice is everything you need during a bad storm.

[ ☁️ ] seungkwan

to take your mind off the weather he’d propose to do your makeup (he had seen countless challenges of doing your significant other’s makeup, but he’d never found a good enough excuse to ask you if he could do it). seungkwan would actually do a pretty decent job at distinguishing concealer from foundation, applying the contour in the right places, and picking a fitting eyeshadow colour. the funniest part would be his comments, he’d act like a youtuber doing a makeup challenge (the only unfunny moment would when he almost poked your eye out with a maskara).

[ ☁️ ] vernon

MOVIE NIGHT!!! yeah, it’s movie date night, and no one is going to stop you from watching your favourite movies or bad horrors through the whole night :))) there’s nothing better to be cuddled under a thick blanket, your feet and arms tangled awkwardly, with vernon’s head resting on your chest so you could thread your fingers through his hair, various snacks laying on the table in front of you. vernon would try to be extra funny on his commentaries to take your mind off of the storm, or come up with the most out of pocket reactions to make you laugh. 

[ ☁️ ] chan

channie would use his super duper dancer skills to make you forget about the storm. you were quite surprised when he randomly started to rearrange the living room, moving the couch and the table, leaving only the fluffy carpet (at one point he thought about distracting you simply with his muscles while carrying the furniture, but eventually gave up because moving the TV would end up in a disaster). he’d let you choose a random song without telling you what he was up to, leaving you stunned but intrigued nonetheless. and you’d have so much fun with the dancing - chan would pretend to trip on accident or mess up the moves to make you laugh, lift you, spin you around, chase you around the apartment. just two idiots in love.

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[moongothic]

When people talk about there being "evidence" for the theory that Crocodile could be Luffy's other bio-dad, they tend to point out these kind surface-level details, easter eggs and Crocodile's odd behaviour during the Marineford-arc. And while all of that is very important as it lays down the groundwork for explaining the theory to people, unironically I think there's even more to the theory. When you really think about the implications the theory has on Crocodile's character and how that would tie into the long running narrative elements and themes in One Piece as a whole, I think it kind of changes everything

So, in this post I want to analyze and speculate about the theory, going a bit "beyond" the basics we already know. Heavy emphasis on the speculation-part, because I'm not here to provide conclusive evidence to prove that Crocodad is Real, rather, I'm here to speculate about how it could be real in practise, and try to explain how so many things would suddenly add up if the theory was true. I'm here to prove that Crocodad would make sense on a narrative level.

Quickly starting with a brief-ish summary of the Basic Thesis of the Crocodad Theory, just so we're all on the same page:

Naturally, if you already know the basics, feel free to skip this bit

Crocodile has secret beef with Ivankov. Although there is no proof that the beef has anything to do with Crocodile being trans, when you go out of your way to introduce a new character whose power is Magic HRT, it's a natural conclusion for people to assume that if these two know each other, then Crocodile could be a trans man. And naturally, if we're assuming he's Luffy's other dad, then he has to be trans

Dragon, as the leader of the Revolutionary Army, is in canon considdered to be the world's Most Wanted Criminal. He is extremely famous as pretty much everyone (except Luffy) knows who he is

Crocodile knowing the second-in-command of the Revolutionary Army doesn't inherently mean he was involved with the Revolutionaries, nor that he has ever met Dragon, but being familiar with Ivankov means it is entirely plausible the two could've met in the past

(Sidenote but I do have a loose theory how Crocodile could've been involved with the Revolutionaries; not relevant here but if you wanted to read it, here you go)

Despite this, when Dragon is revealed to be Luffy's father during the Summit War, although Oda includes the reactions of all the other Shichibukai, he very specifically leaves out Crocodile's reaction to the revelation. This is suspicious as hell, because surely, between his ties with Ivankov and Dragon being world famous, he would've had some thoughts about Luffy being Dragon's son (wrote about this in more depth)

For Crocodad to be real, we are assuming that Crocodile did not know Luffy was Dragon's/his son until Sengoku's announcement during Marineford, this being the reason Oda didn't show that reaction; it would've been too revealing

(We are assuming that Dragon never told Crocodile his name; this is entirely plausible considdering his full name had been a secret to the whole world (as explained post-Enies Lobby), and Dragon had kept the existence of his son a secret even from Ivankov and Kuma. We also need to assume that Crocodile did not name his son, otherwise surely he would have realized Luffy was his son when they met in Alabasta)

This is why Crocodile ends up saving Luffy's life twice in Marineford (as well as Ace's) when until the revelation he had no reason to even care about the idiot

Crocodile choosing to save Luffy's life probably means one of two things; either he really hates the World Government more than the child who foiled his plans to take over Alabasta, or he cares about his son despite knowing Luffy hates his guts

Again, this is just the basic concept, if you want to read more and see all the more easter egg-type hints, I'd reccomend this post, this post and this post (the third one repeats most of the stuff the first two do in but less detail, but also adds a few more notes extra notes). But now that we're generally speaking on the same level, we can delve deeper.

Please, go get yourself a drink and maybe a snack, this is gonna get long and deranged

Going to start with a fairly small thing.

Through out the series Oda has been repeatedly hinting at Crocodile having A Past, some History, A Backstory that lead to him becoming the way he is. But Oda hasn't actually told us what that backstory is. On the surface, this wouldn't be that strange, after all, there's lots of characters whose backstories we haven't seen, for example Mihawk. We know essentially nothing about that man and how he became the way he is. But what's different about Crocodile as opposed to Mihawk and many others, is that Oda hasn't hinted at there being an interesting backstory there that's worth telling. Like I'm sure Mihawk could have an interesting story, but Oda hasn't alluded to that at all. So the fact that he has repeatedly told us that Crocodile does have a backstory, but at most gave us two whole breadcrumbs in an SBS, is a little suspicious. (For clarity, the hints we've gotten so far to Crocodile's backstory were his repeated comments about not trusting people and how he had given up his dreams in Alabasta, while Summit War gave us the Secret Beef with Ivankov and his grudge against Whitebeard. In an SBS in Vol 78, Oda did confirm that Crocodile had his ass kicked by Whitebeard after he became a Warlord in his early 20s, and that he went "quiet for a while" until he started his heroics around his 30s, setting his eyes on Alabasta. Indeed, we have some breadcrumbs of lore, but this hardly paints a full picture. We know nothing abot what he was doing in his late 20s, which would've been the time Luffy was born btw)

What I'm getting at, is that Crocodile clearly has a backstory, but the fact that Oda hasn't spilled the beans yet would indicate to me that it's likely Oda has been saving up that backstory. Which would make sense, Crocodile hasn't been in a role in the story yet where spending time to tell his story would've been appropriate. So really, we're just waiting for the right time for those beans to be finally spilled. But what makes things even more interesting is that One Piece has a very specific track record of not giving its villians extended and dedicated backstories/flashbacks. Villians can cameo in other characters' flashbacks (Moria, Arlong), they can have their own little segments inside the the heroic characters' flashbacks (Orochi, Doflamingo), they might even get their own SHORT dedicated flashbacks (Lucci whose flashback was 6 whole panels long). But villians do not get their OWN, dedicated and EXTENDED flashbacks. Flashbacks are for the heroic characters. There has been a single exception to this rule and that was Big Mom. That's it. And while I'm positive this rule is going to be broken at least one more time before the series ends, really. What do you think is more likely to happen? That Crocodile becomes such an important villian again, this late in the game, that he deserves his own flashback so we can finally find out what his deal is? (When Blackbeard and Imu are also there mind you) Or that Crocodile's role in the story might not be that of a villian anymore, and that Oda had been saving up his backstory all this time because it could reframe his entire character and how we view him?

Oda loves taking inspiration from various mythologies and pop culture alike to bring life into his work.

This is nothing new or surprising, we all know this. For example, Oda did base the original seven Shichibukai on the Seven Heroes from Romancing SaGa 2, each Warlord more or less matching a description of one of the game's villians. Crocodile just happens to match Wagnas, the queer coded leader of the group, who had the noble swordsman Noel (Mihawk) by his side when the group was created to save the world from a great evil. Meanwhile Alabasta as a whole took a lot of inspiration of Egyptian mythology, Crocodile in that arc matching the role of the crocodile-god Sobek. Sobek is a protector god ("Guardian of Alabasta"), associated with military power (literally what Crocodile wanted to obtain) and fertility, carrying the epithet of "he who loves robbery" (man stole a lot of things, from money and lives to rain and nearly a whole dang country). Sobek's name is speculated to come from the words "to impregnate" or "to unite", both being potentially very interesting coincidences (depending on if Crocodad Real and what Cross Guild's purpose in the story is going to be) (if you want more details you can go read the Wikipedia article on Sobek). (Also I'm sure there's something interesting to be said about Sobek's fusion with the sun deity Ra, Sobek-Ra, and how Luffy is our lil Sun God)

The reason I'm pointing this out is that based on Oda's hinting and/or references to mythologies, people have in the past been able to predict certain plot twists and reveals way ahead of time. For example, most recently people were able to predict that Saint Saturn had been the one to give Ginny (and by extension, Bonney) the Sapphire Scale-disease based on a certain legent about ushi-oni, which is what Saturn just happens to be. (Here's one of the many Reddit posts that predicted that reveal) And there is one particular story from Japanese mythology I want to bring up, as it may be relevant to our Crocodad Discussion here. The story of Toyotama Hime. Here's a quick TL:DR;

Princess Toyotama had travelled from the depths of the ocean onto land so she could give birth to her child. When the time to deliver the baby came, Toyotama asked for her husband, Hoori, to not look at her while she gave birth, as she would change into her true form. And while Hoori promised he wouldn't look, he couldn't keep the promise. He peeked in on her wife as she was giving birth, only to discover that she had transformed into a gigantic wani. Horrified by what he had seen, Hoori fled, leaving his wife and child behind. Hurt by what had happened, Toyotama abandoned her son and returned to the ocean. (You can read different summaries of the legend on the Wani-article as well as Toyotama's article on Wikipedia)

Now historically speaking, "wani" in mythology can have referred to serpent dragons, sharks or sea monsters. But in modern Japanese, the word translates to "crocodile". It's what Luffy and a few other characters call Crocodile on numerous occassions. Hell, Crocodile's favorite pets are his gigantic bananawani. Historically speaking it might be more accurate to say that Toyotama had transformed into a sea serpent, but for our intents and purposes, Hoori abandoned Toyotama after she became a crocodile.

I can not tell you what exactly the relationship between Dragon and Crocodile was like, how it began and how it ended. There's no way for us to know when Crocodile transitioned (beyond "after giving birth to Luffy"), nor do we know how Dragon found out about it and how he reacted to it. There's a million options for how things could've gone down, and nothing to truly go off of to even make a guess. All we do really know, is that 1) Dragon does not seem to wear rings at all. 2) Crocodile wears rings, but leaves one out specifically on his ring finger, where one would normally wear their engagement/wedding ring (mind you; for the first half of Alabasta Oda drew Crocodile without a ring on his middle finger, but from the latter half onwards, through Impel Down and Marineford, it's always the ring finger). 3) This suspicious ass comment

"I don't know they have kids or not" YEAH RIGHT

If we wanted to use the story of Toyotama Princess as a jumping off-point though. It's entirely plausible that soon after giving birth Crocodile transitioned thanks to Ivankov's ability, and because Dragon wasn't into it, the two broke up/got divorced. The unfortunate reality is that many couples end up breaking up if/when a partner comes out as trans and chooses to transition. Just like Hoori abandoned his wife because she turned into a crocodile, Dragon could've divorced Crocodile because he transitioned into a man. And Dragon would not be a bad person for it (as long as he was respectful about it). If Dragon is straight and just couldn't see himself being with a man, that's just how it is. At the same time, this would be a gut wrenching, painful thing to go through, and this kind of heartbreak could have devastating concequences for Crocodile's character. Concequences that could play deeply into One Piece's long running narrative elements, which is why a lot of my speculation from here on does end up relying on the Toyotama Myth possibly being inspiration for Crocodile's secret backstory. I acknowledge there's no quarantee that's the case, but I am here to make an argument for why it could be.

QUICK SIDENOTES

As mentioned before, although Ivankov holds the key to a weakness Crocodile has (in their own words), we don't know what that weakness is.

Crocodile joined the Shichibukai in the first half of his 20s (SBS vol 78), and he would've been 27 years old when Luffy was born. This means it's nearly impossible for Crocodile to be stealth trans, as he would've been a public figure for years; which means, Crocodile could be openly trans

A single earring on the right ear can be read as a "gay earring". The man does like his jewelry, so there's no proof he's signaling that he's gay, but if Crocodile's happy to let the world know he's into men, then surely there'd be no issue with him being openly trans either

His transition would've happened 17 years ago pre-timeskip, so in-universe it'd be old ass news and not worth bringing up to the readers if it doesn't add anything to the current plot or his character (which it wouldn't have during Alabasta nor Summit War)

If Crocodile's secret weakness wasn't him being stealth trans, and Ivankov can't detransition him against his will (can't hit Crocodile without Armanent Haki), then what is that secret weakness Ivankov knows about?

As Dragon told Kuma: "A child is a parent's weakness". If Ivakov was anywhere near Crocodile when his child was born (so that Crocodile was able to transition as soon as the kid was out) Ivankov could/should know about the child existing, and would thus be able to blackmail Crocodile by holding the information of his secret child hostage

However, Ivankov did not know about Dragon having a child

Meaning if Crocodile and Dragon were in a relationship, it must have happened in secret, otherwise Ivankov should've realized Crocodile gave birth to Dragon's child

So One Piece has a lot of narrative elements that come up time and time again through out the story,

And some of these have become more and more relevant in the story especially post-timeskip. This is not a comprehensive list of all of them, just the ones that could heavily tie into Crocodile if he were Luffy's other dad, as they could reframe his character. So, let's look at these narrative elements, how they've appeared in the story so far, and speculate how they could reflect in Crocodile.

🐊 People existing in the wrong bodies / bodies that have been altered (and what it means for you to be "you"/how does your body reflect who is on the inside) 🐊 Queerness

Wrote about this more in-depth in this post, but to keep things short; Thriller Bark, Punk Hazard, Dressrosa and Wano all heavily featured characters who have had their bodies either temporarily or permanently altered, sometimes with the person's consent and sometimes without it. Not to mention all the various characters through out the series who have gone through similar things, like Franky, Kuma as well as Brook, among countless others. As well as every Devil Fruit user who can transform their body (including every single Zoan user). People, the way they inhibit their bodies and the freedom to be who you are is very important to One Piece. That is already a very queer-coded narrative, but then we also have explicitly queer characters. Queer characters, who have been deeply important to the story, and whose presence has become more and more prevalent with time. Not to mention how queerness in general has been "escalating" over the course of the story. There's this video from Berry for A Thought on YouTube which explains this more in-depth, but to summarize the most important observation from the video; we have slowly gone from Kuina wishing she had been born a man, to non-binary drag queens (first one being able to temporarily change their own bio-sex by turning into someone else, to the second one being able to change anyone's bio-sex permanently), to two pre-transition transgender characters. All we really need for this escalation to reach its "peak" is if we had a (named, non-background) transgender character who has already transitioned. Unsurprisingly, Crocodile could fill that role really nicely.

🐊 Loneliness

Loneliness is generally speaking a very important theme in One Piece, as it's on the opposite side of coin with friendship on it. So many of our main characters have suffered for years from loneliness, by being ostracized and rejected by their communities, abandoned by their families, sometimes suffering for decades for the sake of their loved ones because they had promises to keep. Luffy himself considders loneliness to be most painful, scary thing imaginable.

Loneliness is something queer people struggle with. A lot. Being rejected by your loved ones for who you are is a painful, common experience for many. It alone can keep many queer people in the closet for years and decades, because the fear of being left alone and abandoned is too much to bear. Some people are accepting of queers but only as long as they stay "over there", pulling a full 180 when a family member comes out. Some people only ""accept"" trans people as long as they don't transition. And while some people may appear to be accepting of you when you come out or are early into your transition, many (trans men especially) lose friends and support the more they start to pass. Crocodile does not trust people. He set up base in Alabasta sometime around the age of 30, meaning he spent around 14 years by himself (until he recruited Robin), unable to trust anyone. That's a long time to be alone. Of course, there may have been a practical side to why Crocodile chose to spend over a decade in utter emotional solitude. If he was scheming to take over a country, then having anybody close who could leak his plans out and foil them would be dangerous. Hell, it's exactly what happened thanks to Robin. But having your significant other destroy your ability to trust people and then isolating yourself to avoid further heartbreak and "betrayal" could be another, potential reasoning as to why Crocodile chose solitude.

🐊 Two failed weddings and one relationship that never was

In Thriller Bark we witnessed Nami almost get married off to Absalom. On Whole Cake Island, we almost saw Sanji get married into Big Mom's family. During Egghead arc, we saw how Kuma never got to have the relationship with Ginny he had yearned for deep inside. I already mentioned Crocodile's missing ring. How his relationship with Dragon might not have worked out because of his transition. How Crocodile's queerness could've lead into solitude, out of distrust. We already have three relationships that never worked out. So how about a fourth one.

🐊 What makes a family (/chosen families) 🐊 Family reunions (with blood-relatives) 🐊 What it's like when your blood-relatives are really horrible people

For the first half of the series, One Piece did very much focus on the concept of chosen families, as most of the Strawhats grew up with non-blood relatives that they all considdered just as much family as their actual blood relatives (if not more-so); Luffy with Ace and Sabo, Sanji and Zeff, Nami, Nojiko and Béllemere, Chopper and Hiruluk, Franky and Tom's Workers. Chosen families are deeply important to this story. At the same time, a lot of post-timeskip OP has actually revolved around (blood) family reunions. Punk Hazard was about sending the kidnapped children back to their families (as well as Momonosuke to ""his father"" Kin'emon), Dressrosa was about reuniting all the broken families Doflamingo (and his family) had torn apart. Whole Cake Island was about Sanji reuniting with his blood family while being forced into a whole new one, and Wano allowed Momonosuke to reunite with his sister (and Kin'emon with his wife). On Egghead we've gotten to see the gutwrenching reunion between Bonney and Kuma, and we are all dying to see Luffy meet Dragon eventually. Not to mention all the other reunions many of us are waiting to see, like Shanks and Buggy, Moria and Perona. Luffy and Garp (currently held hostage by Blackbeard), Mihawk and Zoro. And many others. But indeed, not all the family reunions have been good. Sometimes, the blood relatives have been horrible people. Like Big Mom (to some of her children and husbands), Judge and Kaidou. Sometimes, your blood relatives suck ass.

Needless to say, Sir "I tried to bomb one million people to take over a country" Crocodile is not exactly the greatest guy around. But what might be arguably more important is that... Why is Crocodile a plot-relevant character again, on an emotional level? As I mentioned, characters like Buggy and Mihawk relate to certain characters, so potentially getting to see them reunite with other characters would have emotional weight behind it. Mihawk and Buggy are both relevant characters both to the plot but also on an emotional level, their return to the spotlight makes sense. But then we have Crocodile, a fellow member of Cross Guild. Sure, he's definitely there to help move the plot along, no doubt about that. But emotionally speaking, why the hell is he here again? Is there a character he could "reunite with" that would have that same kind of emotional weight behind it? You could argue Vivi perhaps, but between Vivi hating the man's guts and and Crocodile probably not giving a damn about her, I'm not sure that reunion would have that much emotional weight? Robin on the other hand could be very interesting, considdering she did live under Crocodile's protection for four years until she betrayed him, an action that seemed to have stung Crocodile. That reunion could be deeply interesting.

But you know what this post is about. If Crocodile is Luffy's other dad, then those two coming across each other would suddenly have enormous weight on it even if Luffy himself didn't know about it. Because if Luffy were to find out, Luffy would then have to decide if he'd acknowledge Crocodile as his other dad or disown him. Mind you, Crocodile already knows that Luffy hates his guts for what he did in Alabasta, not to even mention the fact that he tried to kill him three whole times. Luffy has every reason in the world to hate Crocodile. The man surely understands that. But then there's the fact that Crocodile isn't Luffy's mom, but his transgender father. If Dragon rejected Crocodile for being trans, why would his son be any different? Which raises the question, would Crocodile be afraid of that? Of meeting Luffy again? Of Luffy somehow finding out and then getting rejected by him too? How does Crocodile feel about any of this? Now of course, we the readers already know that Luffy canonically loves and respects queer people. Luffy would never look down on Crocodile for him being his dad (the warcrimes are different). But Crocodile doesn't know that. And this is what I mean by there being emotional weight on these two reuniting, as anything that could go down between these two could have massive concequences for Crocodile's character. And please, keep in mind, although Oda hasn't dwelled too deep into the subject in One Piece, there are people who aren't accepting of queers in this world.

This prince, and his entire kingdom, could not accept his mother for who she was. An entire country crumbled because their queen came out as trans. So just like there are accepting families (including Kaidou strangely enough), there are unaccepting, queerphobic ones too. So the fear of rejection would not be unfounded. (Also, if Crocodile and Dragon are divorced then those two coming across each other, especially after The Shit Crocodile pulled in Alabasta, would have a lot emotional weight on it too.)

🐊 The things you are willing to do and sacrifice to protect your loved ones

Shanks gave up his arm for Luffy. Zeff ate his leg so Sanji could have actual food. Béllemere died for her daughters while Nami sacrificed her freedom in an attempt to save her village. Tom gave up his life to protect Franky and Iceburg. Robin attempted to sacrifice her life so the Strawhats could continue their journey in peace. Sanji gave up his freedom for Baratie and the Strawhats. And so many countless more lives, given up for the sake of others.

So people often give Dragon shit for being a "deadbeat dad". I've discussed this in the past, so to keep it short; the World Government went out of its way to hunt an unborn child, hurting countless pregnant women, mothers and newborns while chasing for Gold Roger's son. A child who had "evil blood" and had to be exterminated from the world. Similarly, the World Government went out of its way to put a massive bounty on an eight year old child for the crime of being able to read ancient texts. Dragon would have known and understood that if he ever had a child, as the leader of the Revolutionary Army, his child would become yet another target for the World Government to hunt, just like Ace and Robin did. This should also apply to Crocodile; if the WG found out about him having been involved with the Revolutionaries they would no doubt strip him of his Shichibukai status and make him a wanted man again. Crocodile's child would thus be in just as much danger, even if the Government didn't realize it was ALSO Dragon's son. If Dragon wanted his son to be free and choose his own path in life, Dragon had to keep his distance from Luffy. The same would apply to Crocodile. Luffy probably ended up in Garp's care, not because his parents didn't want to raise him, but because they wanted Luffy to be free.

But as long as the World Government exists, if they ever found out about Dragon having a son, that child would end up in danger, he could become a target. And the only way to ensure that child's safety would be by eliminating the ultimate threat. The Government.

Now that is the ultimate goal of the Revolutionary Army anyways, something Dragon and co have been working towards for over two decades now. But most of their efforts have gone into freeing small countries by overthrowing corrupt governments and gaining support, little by little. Which is understandable, the WG is impossibly powerful, you can't just walk into Marijoa all willy-nilly, take out the Tenryuubito and free the world, the Government's forces would take you down within seconds. Dragon understands this, which is no doubt why the Revolutionary Army hasn't made a move against Marijoa directly until the latest Reverie. It'd be too risky, and if the Revs were taken down, who would be left to oppose the WG? Their slow approach makes sense. But at the same time, while the Revs did attack Marijoa, destroying the Tenryuubito's food banks and freeing a single slave... as long as the Tenryuubito are allowed to literally stay on top of the world, this attack has done nothing. They're just going to demand more tributes, they're going to enslave more people. It's going to make things worse for those who aren't in power. It's harsh and unreasonable, and I don't agree with them, but I do understand where some fans are coming from when they considder Dragon a "fraud". If you wanted to help free the world from this corrupt rule, then you have to actually strip those in power from their status, otherwise nothing will ever change. You have to actually fight the enemy.

I can not tell you for certain why Crocodile wanted to create "a military nation powerful enough to oppose the World Government", I do not know for sure why he wanted to obtain an Ancient Weapon. But nuking Marijoa out of orbit sure would be a fast way to end the rule of the Tenryuubito, ensure nobody would get hurt by the World Government's corruption and slavery ever again, and make sure your son would never become targetted by them. A line of thought I'm sure Dragon would not have agreed with. But a line of thought Crocodile could believe in.

Remember how we still don't quite know what Cross Guild is up to? How the Shichibukai are based on Romancing SaGa 2's Seven Heroes, a group formed by Wagnas (Crocodile) with the swordsman Noel (Mihawk) by his side to save the world from a great evil? And how Cross Guild has been focusing on hunting down Marines by putting bounties on their heads? Make of that what you will.

🐊 Learning not just to love and trust others but to be loved as well

Robin tried to sacrifice herself not just because she loved the Strawhats, but because she thought she herself was unlovable and did not trust the crew, believing they too would betray her eventually. Sanji tried to sacrifice himself because he thought he was unworthy of being loved. Ace went through most of his life, thinking it would've been better if he had never been born at all. We know Crocodile does not trust people. The logical assumption here is that it's because he was betrayed in the past and had his trust broken. Did he ever have a crew, in his younger pirating days? If so, what happened to them? Did they betray him, leave him? After Whitebeard kicked his ass? Who knows. If Crocodile was in a relationship with Dragon though, it does mean that one point he loved and trusted someone, deeply. So much so they had a child. But if their relationship ended because Crocodile is trans, that would have broken his heart, wouldn't it? Made it hard for him to trust anyone ever again. And what would make you believe you were unlovable more than being rejected by your significant other for being queer. But as I mentioned before; Luffy loves and respects trans people. His affection towards queer characters through out the series is absolutely unmatched (the way he exclusively uses the "-chan" honorific for Bon Kurei, Ivankov and Inazuma, calls Yamato a man, and is far more interested in Okiku's spooky mask than her being trans). What would be a better way for Crocodile to be reminded that he can be loved and that he can trust others than being accepted by his estranged son?

🐊 Inherited Will

In Alabasta we learn Crocodile once had a dream that he gave up upon after learning how strong the most powerful pirates of the Grand Line, the ones standing between him and his dreams, truly were. In Marineford we learn Crocodile lost to Whitebeard in his youth. During Miss Goldenweek's Cover story, we learn Crocodile dreamt of becoming Pirate King.

A dream that he shares with Luffy. An inherited will Luffy carries on.

You know the RPG trope where the final boss is either god or your dad? Yeah. This line really hits different when you shout it at your father.

Now, all of this is fine and dandy, but what does this actually do? How would Crocodile being Luffy's other bio-father add to his character, impact Luffy and the story as a whole?

Now there's no way for me to fully predict how the plot is going to develop through out the Final Saga and what might go down. There's a million moving pieces and a billion potential directions things could go. We could be here forever debating those things. But as I did explain in detail already, if Crocodad Real, it could heavily impact Crocodile's character depending on what does/doesn't happen.

For one, we could have an idea of why Crocodile is a plot relevant character again; if his ultimate goal had always been to destroy the World Government to protect his son at whatever cost, then we might know why he wanted to create Cross Guild to begin with; either create a military force strong enough to fight the WG on their own, or, if nothing else, dwindle down the Government's forces and be a general nuisance that leaves the WG vulnerable (perhaps enough so that the Revolutionaries can do the hard work) and/or unable to spend their resources on hunting down Luffy and the Strawhats. Crocodile could be acting as bait, a distraction to protect his son. There's a few options there. This would also give us an idea of where that Cross Guild plotline could be heading; some people believe CG is there to join the race for One Piece and get defeated by the Strawhats, and that'll be the end of it. But now we would have another option, of Cross Guild joining the expected final war against the World Government together with the Strawhats and the Revolutionary Army. So that's one way Crocodad could impact the story and the general direction its heading.

But then there's the character-side of things, how would Crocodad impact our characters? Now obviously, the three characters that would be most impacted by the theory would be Crocodile, Luffy and Dragon. There's some other characters too, Ivankov (since they didn't know), Robin, potentially some Cross Guild members (could they learn to respect Crocodile more sincerely if they learned that the man did in fact have a heart and something/someone he cared about and wanted to protect?) and maybe even Garp, but realistically, it's the core of the family itself.

Now Dragon already would know about everything so there'd be no Shocking Revelation for him. And based on what we saw him say about Sabo maybe being responsible for Cobra's death at the Reverie, we can make an educated guess that Dragon is Not Happy With What Crocodile Did In Alabasta.

So the two aren't on good terms, probably. Dragon might just be absolutely furious at Crocodile for what he did. Understandable tbh. I guess we're just going to be left wondering if the two could somehow ever reconcile, and whether or not they still love each other deep down, despite all the pain and hurt (and warcrimes) they've gone through.

Then there's Luffy. And I guess everything boils down to two major questions; will Luffy ever find out the truth, and if he does, will that impact how he feels about Crocodile? 'Cause it's entirely plausible the series could end with Crocodad being real and Luffy never finding out. And in that scenario, well, Crocodad could impact those other aspects of the story, just not Luffy. And in some ways that could be fine too. It could still be meaningful for Crocodile (and Dragon) that way. But what if Luffy did find out? Now, mind you, it's already a bit of a mystery how Luffy feels Crocodile as of now in the story; back in Impel Down he still understandably hated the man's guts with a fiery passion, but after Marineford Luffy does kind of owe Crocodile his life after he saved him. And Luffy is generally speaking pretty respectful when it comes to stuff like that. But also Luffy was unconcious when Crocodile yeeted him and Jinbei out of Akainu's reach, so does Luffy even know Crocodile saved him? (Though surely he would remember Croc sparing Ace and getting guarded from Mihawk) Not to mention, when the Cross Guild reveal happened, the only comments we got about it where Luffy calling Buggy an idiot and Zoro being confused about Mihawk being there. They didn't even acknowledge Crocodile. It was almost like Oda seemed to avoid the subject?

We also need to considder how much would Luffy find out? Just the basics, that his other parent is a trans man and just happens to be Crocodile? Or like, everything? From whatever his plans were with taking over Alabasta to however Crocodile might feel about his sweet baby boy? Because if all Crocodile had wanted to do was protect his son, despite knowing he might never see him again, and if Crocodile did still unconditionally love Luffy despite everything that happened, despite knowing (/assuming) that Luffy already hates him... Well first off, Robin nearly assassinated Iceburg and was willing to let the World Government potentially get their hands on an Ancient Weapon just to protect Luffy and co (on top of all the deaths she helped cause while working for Crocodile, all because she wanted to read the Poneglyph herself). If Luffy was willing to forgive Robin for all that, would he not forgive his dad for doing the same? And Luffy isn't one to dismiss kindness, when people express that they genuinely care about him and his well being Luffy does respect that (even if doesn't fully reciprocate the feelings, like with Hancock). And Luffy has deep emotional intelligence too. If Crocodile was convinced he'd be rejected by Luffy for who he was, especially if that had happened to him in the past to begin with, over something Luffy wouldn't bat an eyelash at (like being trans), like. Luffy wouldn't be shitty about that.

We know Crocodile is a broken, traumatized man. We don't know how much shit he has gone through though, beyond getting his ass beat by Whitebeard and The Divorce. Knowing how Oda likes to layer trauma in character backstories*, there definitely could be more to Crocodile than just those two things, but for the sake of this post, let's just focus on The Divorce. *(Like how Robin was alienated by her community long before the Ohara Genocide, and then spent decades of her life fleeing from the Government, hurt and abandoned by people time and time again. Or how Kuma was born into slavery, lost the love of his life and finally gave up everything he had just to save the life of his daughter. Early OP flashbacks may have been a bit simpler, but as time as gone they have definitely gotten more complex and layered, so I would not be surprised if Crocodile's Full Backstory had like 3+ layers to his trauma)

One important part of One Piece has been teaching/reminding certain characters important lessons, to change their view of the world and make them better people as a result.

Here's some of the messages of One Piece, its beating heart and soul

And of course, sometimes some characters can't have their minds changed, at least not that easily. But their ideals and worldview can always be challenged and proven wrong. This is what happens to many of the villians in the story. Like Moria's ideas of how he shouldn't have to do any of the hard lifting himself and how instead of having friends he can just have replacable zombies instead. Moria's worldview was wrong, and is exactly what led to his downfall in Thriller Bark. Or Spandam and the CP9's ideas of justice, how anything they do can be justified as it is for the "good of the world", including killing innocent civilians. They can do that, because they are "heroes of the world", they are "justice". Needless to say, none of the CP9's actions during Enies Lobby could be considdered "heroic", and, well. If "justice always prevails", then their defeat did prove theirs was a false one. Or how Enel isn't a god, how Doflamingo doesn't have a god given right to rule (neither does Wapol for that matter), how Akainu's ideas of "absolute justice" are monstrous at best, how the way Judge and Big Mom treat their families is not how a family should be like at all.

During Alabasta, Crocodile's plans were foiled because of he didn't trust his underlings with his secret identity and refused to communicate properly with them himself. That one conversation between Crocodile and "Mr. 3" (Sanji) is more or less what allowed the Strawhats to reach Alabasta just in time to stop him. But although distrust is what lead to Crocodile's downfall, he still carries that core belief even now; he still doesn't trust others. Which raises the question, what other beliefs might Crocodile still carry deep inside?

That he can't trust anyone because people will betray and leave him sooner or later? That nobody would ever stay by his side, that nobody will ever love him?

Are those not the exact same core messages of One Piece, the false beliefs that we've seen proven wrong, time and time again?

It really wouldn't be right to end the series without Luffy proving Crocodile wrong once and for all, and make him change his worldview, now would it? But hey, the good news is that there might be no better way to prove Crocodile wrong than to have his son unconditionally forgive him and accept him as his father.

All of this to say; yes, I think if Crocodad was real, it would heavily impact Crocodile's character and whatever character arc he might have. Like I'm not arguing for Crocodad in the name of meme'ing. His whole story could suddenly tie into so many of series' core themes and messages, and tie into our main character in a meaningful way. It could impact heavily where the story as a whole is heading.

The other, more likely option is that Crocodad isn't real and that I have lost my marbles thinking I was onto something with this post. In the end, time will be the judge of that. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed my utter derangement.

Minor EDIT (Oct 20th, 2024) but. Because I am still obsessed with Crocodad, I keep on thinking about it and both coming to new conclusions and noticing new things, and I wanted to link a few shorter posts I wrote recently because I think they add to Crocodad, if in minor ways

Crocodile's motif is being a protector

Ivankov's fame as a miracle worker matching the Crocodad Timeline

Whitebeard would not have invited a woman on his crew (side tangent; the actual post is about something else)

[anundyingfidelity]

WHEN I WAKE UP, WHERE DO YOU GO? — Soldier Boy/Ben

Summary: When Soldier Boy was taken away and Vought faked his death, he dreamt of you non-stop while with the reds. Now, decades later and back in the modern world, he just has one thing in mind: finding you.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 1.6k.

Warnings: heavy angst, language, some nudity, sexual implied content, pregnancy, the usual stuff in the boys universe, death, AU where Soldier Boy was never with Crimson Countess.

If you'd like to be added, the taglist is here!

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

Notes: this was a request for my 400 followers drabbles but i got more things in mind to develop an angsty one shot with a sad ending, so this is what happened. also thanks for being patient with me as i try to come back to tumblr and write. real life is not easy.

GEN MASTERLIST!

1981

He didn’t know where he was standing. He didn’t know the place around him, nor the people having a sweet ball, with the music playing and mingling with their laughs.

He could see the beautiful ladies swinging to the classic music in the gala, the supes he used to know in the back of the scene as if they weren’t an important part of it. Dressed in that green suit, mask off, he walked between the couples and the guests dancing. His eyes caught a stunning wine colored dress in the middle of the pale colors around. He knew it was you.

It was the first time in years he heard his heart pounding against his chest this fast, as he approached you. His hand brushing your bare shoulder made you turn around, a bright smile adorned your face appeared when you saw it was him. You quickly focused your attention completely to him, leaving the ladies you were speaking to behind.

“Ben! What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming!” you almost shouted to him as you dragged him with you to the less-crowded bar.

He furrowed his brows in confusion. “I wasn’t?”

You shook your head with a hint of embarrassment and placed your drink on the countertop.. “Edgar said you wouldn’t, so… I just thought you weren’t,” you said with a soft voice. “But nevermind that, I’m glad you’re here, I’ve missed you,” you beamed, this time your voice sounding happier.

Ben nodded, taking in the sight of your figure and your pretty face, delicately made up, expensive and graceful just for a night like this. Somehow, seeing you felt like ages. “You look perfect,” he whispered.

Under his gaze, he knew your cheeks were burning. He started fighting the urge of caressing your cheek but now, in front of all these people, it was better not to.

He always had this need of protecting you from the outside, from the world. Being the supe he was, he knew how fucked up everything around was. You didn’t deserve to see that. But countless times, Ben remembered your courage and the way you used to raise your voice to be heard. And still knowing you could take care of yourself, he felt the need of looking after you, of being your shelter. Despite everything, he wouldn’t forgive himself if anything bad happened to you.

“Thank you,” you smiled. “You look good too, but I bet you’d look better with a different type of suit,” you gave him a flirty wink.

He was all in that playful mood of yours.

“Probably later, if we leave,” Ben teased back, the distance between both of you getting shorter. He could smell the sweetness of your perfume and the taste of alcohol. “Whatcha say, sweetheart?”

“I’d say yes. Always would say yes.”

1983

Ben woke up again, in a place that was oddly familiar in the back of his mind. It was a big bedroom, he was laying on the bed, and immediately noticed the blanket covering his bare body. The sunlight sneaking in the curtains told him it was morning already. There was a heat coming from the other side and he rolled softly to see you, sleeping and tugging his arm against you.

“Good morning,” you mumbled, fluttering your eyes open. You leaned to place a kiss on his stubbled cheek, the blanket falling off a little from your breasts. “How you feeling today, my husband?”

“Husband?”

You chuckled at his confused face. “I told you I’d say yes, didn’t I?”

Ben snorted to himself. He didn’t even remember proposing to you, but it was better than he’d ever imagined. Looking back at you, he asked with a quizzical expression on his face. “Am I dreaming?”

You laughed louder this time. “No, Ben. We got married yesterday. Thought you couldn’t get drunk and all, is there anything wrong?”

He felt your hand caressing his cheek softly, as you placed your head on his shoulder and laid back down. And he felt not only the warm touch of your skin, but a coldness coming from a ring on your hand. He wrapped his own on your wrist to get a glance of the bright, gold ring adorning your finger. It was true.

You were his wife, and he couldn’t believe it.

1984

“Please don’t go.”

Your voice came out as a plea, and he, somehow, felt something was wrong. Looking around, Ben found himself in a cozy kitchen inside a house, and you were standing in front of him. He looked for the ring in your hand, and there it was. What the hell was happening to him? Why was he suddenly reminiscing every moment with you? And why this?

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Ben, I’m pregnant,” you confessed with glossy eyes. His face softened and he shook his head, part of him wanting it to be a lie. He wasn’t ready to be a father yet. “Please don’t go to Nicaragua. You promised you’d give this up, why hasn't it happened? It’s been a year!”

You were already crying, the tears coating your cheeks and he stepped closer to cup your cheeks between his hands, making you look at him directly.

“I really have to go,” he muttered as he wiped the tears off your skin.

Ben pulled you for a hug, as you cried against his chest and he soothed you softly, a side he never knew could have for anyone but you. He hated seeing you like this, but he knew he had to go. He was Soldier Boy, he’d come back soon, for you and the baby.

“I just want you to be safe and happy,” you mumbled, once you pulled away and wiped your face with your hands.. “You always wanted this, a family. And I want to give it to you because I love you… I wouldn’t want it any other way, Ben.”

“I love you so damn much,” he said, with a beam on his face and a spark in his eyes, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “How long?” he asked.

“Like four months…”

Ben smiled again, remembering the weird foods you were having, how you’d get sick all out of nowhere and the countless nights and days he took care of you, even if you got pissed at him because it all felt like you were useless. But he didn’t care about all that. How he couldn’t notice it and pull the strings together, he thought to himself.

Suddenly he kissed you sweetly, but so strong at the same time that you gasped against his mouth. “You’re the most amazing thing that ever happened to me, y’know that.”

His words made you smile against his lips, still trying to compose yourself. You nodded as you reached for his hand, entwining it with yours.

“I hope it’s a boy,” he said, before planting another kiss on your lips.

2022

When Ben came back to the real world, he thought of finding you. Butcher had facilitated your location in exchange for a deal, but a grave wasn’t the place he had in mind when doing so.

He already lost count of how many times he had arrived to grief and hate himself for leaving you and the baby that day when you begged him not to. It was late noon, almost dusk, and probably he shouldn’t be there, saying sorry to the air and the tree in your grave. There was an emptiness growing in his chest, like a black hole swallowing every single particle of life he had been preserving for you, once he came back.

Ben spent the last four decades dreaming of you, remembering every moment, either be happy or sad, the only thing that mattered was you. Whole you, with your beauty, your laugh, the kindness in your eyes every time you looked at him, and the courage in your heart. If only he could go back and change everything, he’d do it with no question.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled again. “I’m sorry I wasn’t with you when you asked me to.”

He read the plaque with your name written on it and a small ‘beloved daughter and wife’ below, and his fists clenched tightly. More than ever, he wanted to burn Vought down to the ground. He had cried to himself, all alone, when he learned you were gone and to regret his decisions. It wasn’t enough for those fuckers to take his child and raise him in a damn lab to be a monster, but they had to kill you.

Ben remembered the things this Hughie kid had told him; about you trying to look for your husband for months non-stop after he went missing and the fake story of his death was released to the world. You spent day and night doing research, getting involved with different organizations even when your son was born, and when Vought sensed you were moving masses, they decided to get rid of you and take his son away. Ben was sure you knew pretty well the dirty secrets, and taking threats out of the radar was their specialty.

Now he had to take Homelander down. The only bond that joined you and him resulted to be a stupid, crying asshole, all because of the whim of some rich men running a pharmaceutical. Supes were a lie, but he was a soldier. And he had promised himself to avenge you, whatever the cost was.

“I love you,” Ben whispered to the wind. “I hope you understand why I’m doing this.”

“I'm pretty sure she’d be okay with it,” Butcher said, standing a couple of feet back.

Ben had been used to the british fucker to appear out of nowhere. Butcher was the one taking him to the cemetery after all.

“Yeah, I hope so,” Ben said back. The sadness and grief fell off his face as he turned around to meet Butcher. “Let’s go then, I want to take them fucking down.”

Soldier Boy taglist: @delaynew @k-slla @thesilmarillionblog @onlyangel-444 @mrsjenniferwinchester @daisy-the-quake