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[tree-marshalls]

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[innerfare]

Lawbin Headcanons 

Summary: Early stages of Lawbin. This whole thing is basically Law being a dork who’s constantly trying to play it cool while falling for the weird girl (Robin, I love you, never change). 

Characters: Trafalgar Law x Nico Robin

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

——— 

When Robin met the Captain of the Heart Pirates, the Surgeon of Death and a Warlord of the Sea, Dr. Trafalgar Law, she didn’t trust him, not even for a second. Recall, she has extensive experience with Warlords and would have died at the hands of one if Luffy hadn’t saved her despite her own insistence he leave her to die. As soon as she meets Law, she swears to herself that if things go sour, Luffy won’t be saving her and, in fact, she’ll be saving Luffy. She won’t let the Warlord take a shot at her Captain, and she takes Luffy’s proposition that if the alliance goes bad, the crew will have his back, to heart.  

For the longest time, that’s how Robin thinks of Law: the Warlord. She never talks about it, but she has PTSD from her time with Crocodile. She had never known peace or solace in her life; the safest position she’d had before joining the Straw Hats was as the right hand of a man who ultimately viewed her as expendable. And Sir Crocodile wasn’t just any man, he was a pirate brimming with power and eerily intelligent, with a mind for strategy. Just like Traffy, whose insistence on planning out every little detail and having a backup plan for every backup plan takes Robin right back to Alabasta. 

Robin becomes a little obsessed with comparing him to Crocodile. She zeroes in on his willingness to make small sacrifices for the greater cause, his analytical nature and reserved emotions, his apparent lack of friends. Only, Traffy went to great lengths to help the Straw Hats rescue the children on Punk Hazard, and he didn’t take the opportunity to be too cruel to Smoker and Tashigi despite having them chained in front of him. But that doesn’t stop her from trying to make him into Crocodile 2.0.  

And then there’s Law, who’s such a dork. Strategic alliance this, strategic alliance that, but from the second he met the Straw Hats, he wasn’t thinking about betraying them, he was wondering how he was supposed to remain impartial with such an affable group. He thought Nico, at least, would be an ally against the general Straw Hat insanity, but she turned out to be the crew’s worst enabler rather than the mother hen he had originally pegged her for. Which begs the question, what else was he wrong about? 

Annoyed to have been so wrong, Law begins paying more attention to Nico. He notices that she doesn’t fall into the insular trap that a lot of academics do. She’s not just an expert on her one field but in fact is incredibly well read and is a wealth of knowledge on a menagerie of different topics, and each topic he learns she is well-versed in is weirder than the last. 

Why is Nico an expert on Panda Shark socialization? How did Nico come to find out that there is a mythical, lost library full of love poems on an unnamed sky island? Why does Nico have so many books on a random king from the South Blue who died eight hundred years ago? How did Nico learn that there’s an island in the West Blue where white pumpkins grow on bone trees? And why, oh why, is she versed in Germa 66 lore? Finding out the last one makes his heart drop, the realization that he would risk it all for the Straw Hat archaeologist making Law’s stomach churn. 

And how is she so calm all the time? He had pegged the academic as similar to him, but her crew’s shenanigans seem to just roll right off her. She sat in that cell with him and the others in Punk Hazard reminiscing about old times with Luffy and Smoker instead of cowering in the shadow of Vergo, and she more than held her own on Green Bit, lending herself to him as an asset time and again, always being there to lend a helping hand (or twelve) when the plan fails. 

All that is to say, Law falls first. But it’s Robin who makes the first move. 

It’s only when she sees Traffy interact with his crew that Robin sees him for who he is, and she can’t get that man out of her head- that man who isn't domineering but tries to make people follow his orders to protect them, that man who is so adored by his crew (the members of which he protects rather than uses for his own gain), that man who, despite being called Warlord, is kind of adorable. 

Robin starts teasing him a bit; she just can’t help herself. Now that her Crocodile glasses are off, she can see that he doesn’t have the sort of temper that leads him to kill people but rather the sort that just leaves him spluttering and speechless. And, well, she thinks it’s cute. She starts feeling dumb, too, for not having seen it sooner. After all, Luffy saw he was a good and trustworthy person, and that should have been enough for her, but she had been blinded. 

No longer blinded, she starts enjoying her time with Traffy, though he doesn’t notice the shift, doesn't realize she's soft on him. He thinks she’s needling him for some other reason. It never occurs to him that Nico (or anyone, for that matter) finds him cute. And he almost goes into cardiac arrest when she tells him. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He demands one night, fed up with that little smile that always seems to be on Nico’s face while she’s staring at him. “Nothing,” she says, swallowing her giggle, “I just think you’re cute when you’re annoyed.” And with that, she leaves him to process what she’d just said. 

Their relationship is built on info dumping. Robin can talk about her weird interests, such as the mating habits of Sea Kings and the fact that the antidote made from Conine in the bark of Kona Trees can actually be used as a poison if mixed with the correct substances. And Law can talk about his childish interests, such as various comic books and ninjas. These two geek out on a level not previously known to humankind. 

They bring each other odd tokens, typically the weirdest possible thing they could find on their respective travels. 

Law buying Robin books and leaving notes inside that get progressively more personal, Robin asking Sanji to show her how to make onigiri because it’s Law’s favorite. 

And then there’s the trauma. Both were nearby when their parents were murdered. Both were alone in the world at a very young age, Robin hunted by the World Government and Law by the Donquixote family. Both know what it’s like to be completely alone with nothing to their name but a bizarre devil fruit ability and a target on their back. Both managed to find their way in the world despite feeling for years that they never would. They didn’t save each other because they didn’t have to. They’re traumatized, but they’re not broken, and together, they can be even stronger. They saved themselves, and now that they did, they’re free to bask in each others’ presence. And that’s exactly what they do. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[refineinc]

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[kpopchangedme]

Sun-drenched [M] - Youngjae

Every time you opened your mouth something outrageous came out but unfortunately, your new dorky step-brother seemed to be immune. You couldn’t tell if Youngjae was actually that clueless or if your reputation preceded you. 

Protagonists: Choi Youngjae & You

Word Count: 4.6k

Genre: NSFW - Cringe Fest - Smut - slight exhibitionism - f*ckgirl - Stepbrother!au || [One Shot]

[The Pleasure Chest: A Cringe Fest]

GOT7 | M.list

Your mother was doing that thing with her hair again, slightly shaking her head every time her new beau spoke. Every single bob invariably made her blonde curls spring. How disgusting. You had asked to be bleached once, a few years ago, and she had the audacity to claim it would look cheap on you. So unfair. 

She hadn't met her fourth husband for more than 6 months before she did just that. She thought it made her look younger, but Miami-midlife-crisis was more like it. It wasn't pretty wheat blonde, it was white yellow-ish banana buttercream. On-sale daffodil... Much like the sad ones Youngnam had gotten her from the convenience store yesterday.  They were now awaiting certain death in a crystal vase husband-number-two had gotten her for God knows what occasion.

You rolled your eyes when your latest stepfather started going over safety rules again. At your dad's there was never a need for them and if you correctly remembered the last time you had lived with your mom... You smiled, imagining how Dr. Top Surgeon would react if he found out his perfect church-going wife used to pop pills like candy and store a very impressive bong in the third drawer of her kitchen.

That would make for a fun scene. 

The goodbyes seemed to stretch half an eternity in the living room, after which you got dragged to the hall where the speech began all over again. Your mom gave you a short hug, more of a shoulder squeeze, then she pulled back and frowned with intent as much as her botox allowed. You shrugged off her silent don't-screw-this-up warning, already waving goodbye to her husband. Shoo shoo, you thought, sending the adults off to a far far away location. 

As soon as the door shut behind, you squealed in excitement. 

Summer had officially begun! 

Moving half across the country to fake “house sit” their new place while they honeymooned in Boca wasn't exactly what you had scheduled for your vacations. But when Youngnam accidentally let the words infinity pool and cars – as in with an S – slip out during the weekly video call, not even the dread on your mother’s face could’ve deterred you from flying over. 

As it turns out, Dr. Choi was loaded. 

Something you probably would’ve figured out earlier if you’d bothered showing up for the ceremony at all. Unfortunately, the wedding hadn't matched your Spring Break’ schedule and you decided having been present to the many previous ceremonies should be considered enough daughterly care for a lifetime. 

As you bent to the freezer for a celebratory parent-free popsicle, you felt the eyes of that gift-that-came-with-the-house glued to your ass. He briefly glanced down at the flash of your stomach’s skin when you jumped to sit on the counter. 

Surprisingly enough, your mother’s many rings had never once come with a step-brother before...

Usually, she went for the bachelor or womanizer types and those had the decency to never have baggage. Dr. Choi was a break of pattern and the news came with complete horror on your part.

For as long as you could, you had made a duty of never meeting his son, pretended he didn't even exist. So when the bubbly blended trio came to pick you up at the airport yesterday, you had been shocked.

They had said soloist of the local Choir and you’d heard; loser. Piano lessons? Dork. All-boys school graduate? Stuck-up. Computer Science Major? Nerd alert.

No one had talked about… That.

As a matter of fact, Choi Youngjae himself had not spoken much either, but he was certainly looking... 

And there were few things you enjoyed more than having a man's undivided attention.

Standing in the middle of the kitchen in all his glory, your new step-brother was staring, as usual, watching intently as you sucked your popsicle. You made sure to make a show of it.

“So… What about lunch?” He finally asked even though it was barely 9. Just to rattle him you hummed on the sugary treat as a reply. Mission accomplished. “S-Should I order pizza?”

“Don't worry, I’m easy...” Youngjae’s gaze fluttered down to your belly ring again. Boy, if he liked that one he had a few things coming. “I’ll eat anything if it's on you.”

Gaze widening, he pretended to look at something over in the living room and walked away.

Wait no, the poor guy literally bolted out of the kitchen to escape to safety. So fast one could wonder if this whole first exchange was the fruit of your devious imagination.

Oh no, you had just traumatized your babyish step-bro.

It made sense, you were one scary bitch.

All-boys school graduate? Virgin, you mentally took note. 

Or perhaps your mom had said something about you devouring the souls of poor innocent men. They said the apple never fell far from the tree. Grinning like a shark, you discarded the melting popsicle in the trash.

This promised to be one Hell of a summer break. 

______________________

“It’s been more than 10 minutes...” Chimlin flipped the phone over to yell unintelligibly at her demonic baby twin sisters. Despite the protection, you winced. “No DMs.”

“Then he hasn’t seen it yet.” Artlessly reporting for BFF’ duty was a lot more fun face to face, but for a few months, video calls would have to do. “Trust me.”

“I don't know,” she whined, going on all over again about how her boyfriend hadn’t picked up the phone since their nightly routine fight of yesterday. 

Sometimes you wondered if you’d even follow her back on Insta if you met this current sad version of herself. Kinda hard to tell, but she used to be the coolest baddest chick on campus. Then she was partnered with that Italian exchange student for a Statistic class, disgustingly dripping pheromones, cash and European pizzazz. Yes, Statistics. The most boring course ever, let's be real. But Chimlin was a genius, the deadly hot kind. No matter how shit-faced she was, that girl could track the B-52s and Gin Tonics’ calorie count of each respective member of your girl squad, not that she'd ever had to care herself.

Then Massimo came. At first, he was just a casual hook-up, but he managed to worm his way into her brain and grew there like a tumour. By the end of last semester, they were full-on steady-going together like in cringy 90s rom-coms. He was always stuck to her like a parasite.

Gone was your favourite 4 feet 11 party animal.

“Do you have any idea how many bitches Mas could meet this summer?”

You snorted, “Not even close to the number of dicks you could have in Pattaya if you wanted to.”

“Phatthaya,” she corrected automatically with a dramatic eye-roll. “That’s the thing, I don't want to. I only want one dick and he's miles away.” She waved her hand to brush it off right as your mouth opened in protest.

Her Italian barnacle did want to remain with her on campus for summer, but Chimlin thought she had better plans that involved a lot more beaches and fruity drinks. She simply couldn't live with her own poor life choices now and you were just about to tell her so when a flash of skin on the screen distracted you.  

“What else have you been hiding?” You sing-sang, impressed by the view. 

She glanced over her shoulder, “That's my uncle. Like... He’s literally my mom’s lil’ brother. Gross.”

“I know what an uncle is and that's a very hot one if I’ve ever seen one. You can look.”

“We’re not all depraved sluts like you.” She only half-teased with a sharp laugh. “How's the cute new brother doing, by the way?”

“No idea.” You flipped the camera and zoomed on Youngjae's bedroom window like to prove a point. The curtains were drawn, concealing anything worth mentioning from view. You were lounging by the pool on one of those fancy long chairs, much as you had been for the past week. Margarita, sunscreen, repeat. If this boring routine went on, you’d be so tanned by the end of summer no one on campus would recognize you. Sometimes you did think Youngjae's curtains were wobbling, maybe he was spying on you but it could all be your imagination. “Typical. He's been in hiding from me since day one.”

“I don't blame him.”

“Don't blame me for wanting him either. He's a good boy in a bad boy’s body.”

“I don't even know what that means...”

“No one does. But he's not cute, he's hot. I need him all over me and I've been telling him so, but he's strangely elusive. I think he hits the gym above the grocery store on the corner, I should join.”

“Stalker.”

“I don’t stalk, I live in his house.”

“No wonder the poor guy doesn't go out of that room, I bet he picked up on all your slutty energy.” In the rectangle screen, Chimlin switched to tan the other side and you did the same, laying on your back.

“Ha ha. He'd have to be moronic not to,” you were holding the phone above, casting a partial shadow on your face.

“Your legend precedes you. He's scared you're gonna trap and fuck him.”

“What else am I supposed to do when you've abandoned me and flew to the other side of the world? You know I need a summer project.”

“And of course, it had to be a guy.”

You were so glad she stopped whining about Mas for a minute that you let that one slide. “Well, I am not a needlepoint kind-of-girl.”

“Right, hey maybe it isn’t the incest that’s creeping your brother out. Maybe he's gay.”

Someone snorted out loud at that – not you – and you sat up in alarm.

Two guys were standing by the edge of the pool.

“No, he's not,” said the one on the left, a smile in his voice. They were directly in your sun, so you had trouble making out their features. One silhouette was slightly slumped, the other tall and all limbs. You suddenly felt very exposed, dropping Chimlin to fasten your bikini top in a hurry. This show wasn't for strangers to enjoy.

“Who are you?” The second man asked, clearly lost.

“She's it,” the other echoed.

“Who are you? I live here.”

“We're your brother's social life,” the frisky one smiled largely, kind of in a dangerous way that you immediately recognized for your own. Friends, they were Youngjae's friends and they very clearly overheard your embarrassing banter with Chimlin.

Flushing – a rare occurrence – you brought a hand to shield your eyes from the sun while you corrected; “Step-br–”

A sharp voice cut in, “She's not my sister.”

Behind, Youngjae was standing awkwardly by the patio door, a stern look on his face. He didn't seem surprised his people were there. He didn't even glance in your direction before disappearing back as you blankly stared after him. 

“Well, thank fuck,” the you-guy turned to wink, following him inside. “Good luck with your summer project! I’ll root for you!”

In a daze, you picked your phone back up. Chimlin was still there, waiting dilligently to be briefed on what just transpired. You puffed your cheeks, mentally preparing for what was to come.

______________________

Swear to God, Youngjae had not come out of that room for two days.

Two.

Fricking.

Days.

Maybe he had a fridge in there.

Maybe he only came to life after midnight like a vampire to avoid the whore squatting his dad’s house. 

Whatever his annoying friends told him had certainly made a lasting impression. You just hoped he wasn't the type to go cry to parents whenever something happened. You had no intention of going back to your tiny dorm all alone and sad for the summer just because you hurt his feelings by finding him bangable. Or worse, at your father's.

What was he even thinking?

You had not done anything wrong. Pushed a bad joke a little bit too far perhaps, nothing to get all worked up about. No reason to get shunned out of your mother's life again. 

Youngjae's reaction, or lack thereof, was way out of line.

It's not like you had actually done anything to him. He was such a prude. A prude that eye-fucked you all the time!

Church baby boys were the worst.

What an ass.

.

.

.

Three days?!

Three days of an overly empty house. The atmosphere had gotten so heavy, the air so tense you couldn't even think about anything else. There was nothing left to do. Just sit on the couch inside or by that dumb infinity pool, starring at the drawn curtains of your step-brother's bedroom. They weren't wobbling anymore.

Which was what you were actively doing this afternoon, ruminating your dark thoughts for hours. You didn't even notice you were getting dangerously warmer. When your timer went off, announcing it was sunscreen time again you nearly fell from your chair. 

Doing the legs was the easiest part, your favourite to be honest. They were one hell of an asset of yours. You were massaging the thick lotion on your right calf when something at the corner of your eye caught your attention. 

For a heartbeat or two, you thought you were hallucinating. 

Youngjae had finally reappeared. 

He was standing at the end of the pool, a knapsack thrown over his shoulders. His thumbs were hooked in the straps, hands dangling to his sides like dead weights. If he looked like a young boy at first glance, the heated look on his face was one of a man.

Frozen still, you gulped. True to form, he kept staring for a long moment before turning to the house and you thought he was about to go into hiding again – but oh no, fuck – he was actually pacing towards you. 

“I’m back.” Youngjae blurted out awkwardly, mouth twisted. 

Yours was opened in a mix of disbelief and shock. He was actually addressing you. “Back?” From where the corner store?

“Yes,” his eyes ghosted over your poor excuse of a bikini before anchoring themself back to safety in yours. Again, horny eyes. If you were warm earlier, now you were burning up. “I thought it'd be better if I stayed away at Bam's for a few days…”

Right? No one could actually stay between four walls so dilligently. It made sense. You were so dumb.

Apparently, your confusion was evident. “Didn’t you notice I was gone?” No, you had not. So your step-brother was so freaked out being around you that he actually moved out for a few days. Had you gotten that bad? Jesus. “Anyway, I’m back home with you now.” 

Youngjae took a step closer, kindly getting in your light so you'd stop squinting at him. He looked even hotter in the bright light of day, sweat pearled between your breasts. He frowned and bit his lower lip waiting for a reaction. The things you'd do to that perfectly proper mouth. 

Of course, what came out of yours at the moment was less than appropriate. He was right to be scared, you weren't safe at all.

“Wanna do me?”

Yes, you were that bad. Terrible indeed.

“Do I-I,” he gasped for air – oops, “w-what?”

“My back,” you clarified smiling like a prisoner that hadn't been fed a good meal in days, “sunscreen.” The poor man should've stayed far far away from you. 

You weren’t crazy or desperate, but you couldn't resist. You had been patient and unusually upright so far. You deserved a treat. You were hungry and you knew your step-brother wanted you too, he wouldn't have felt the need to hide away otherwise. Youngjae had an interesting duality, shamelessly thirsting over you one minute and getting flustered and embarrassed the next. He must have been deeply unsettled by your open invitation because before you could flip over, he had claimed possession of the bottle. 

Or maybe he just didn't need to be asked twice this time. He knew. He wanted to give in to temptation. Why would he even come back here otherwise? 

Laying down, you reached to undo the bikini strings, pressing your loosely covered chest against the rough towel on the chair. You waited.

“You must really hate tan lines,” Youngjae said in your back, sounding tormented, “it seems you're never properly wearing clothes.” He sat down in slow motion like an obedient little boy as you grinned. 

“Are you ever gonna put your hands on me?” You teased once more, it was like a string was tugging up your insides through that dirty mouth of yours. You wanted to keep pushing him, wanted to find out what it'd take to make him break. And just fuck you really. It was fighting the inevitable by now. 

Every guy you met wanted to have you.

Usually, you didn't have to beg.

“I'm trying not to,” he admitted the obvious. “I promised I would never touch you,” Youngjae grumbled and you jerked in surprise when lotion spurted on your lower back. “Promised my father I’d treat you well.”

It made sense, a good boy would never disobey and do his dirty step-sister. If your legend preceded you, his golden son’s reputation certainly did too. Honestly, this promise made the taunting easier and even more tempting. It made for a funnier challenge and the spark in Youngjae's eyes when he looked at you hinted you could break him if you really tried.

You were about to defy his ethics again when words went back down your throat, letting way to a sharp sigh. He had suddenly fully committed to applying your sunscreen, fingers exploring your skin. You asked to be touched and he had risen to the occasion, firmly rubbing the lotion on your naked back. 

Earlier you had every intention of teasing him further by enjoying this a little too much, but you weren’t sure it was entirely voluntary when the first moan escaped. If he wanted to keep it PG, he probably should’ve stopped right there, but it didn't seem to deter your step-brother. He kept going, massaging you along the way. His thumbs traced circles up your spine until one of his palms cupped your nape. 

Perhaps this is what an erotic massage was supposed to feel like, heaven. Every stroke was totally appropriate, very perfect boy-ish, but still, your toes were curling. After a few minutes, Youngjae's breathing was heavy, he was enjoying this impromptu contact just as much.

You both had made yourselves obvious these past weeks; him with the eye-fucking, you with the open-truths. Clearly, the forbidden nature of your desires would make for an even more intense experience. You couldn't even imagine how it'd feel to take it further now. 

“I've never had a step-brother before,” you mewled, mentally following the downwards path of his hands.

“I bet you love messing with me,” he replied, barely audible. 

His pianist’s fingers were now haltingly sliding up your ribcage. He wasn't rubbing in anything anymore, just caressing all he could reach. 

He was right, but you wanted more. That was the sexiest thing that happened to you in forever. Having a guy want you bad enough he had to hide away to resit, and now having his hands on you. You wanted him everywhere, all over. You didn’t care; step-brother promises or not.

Giving in to temptation, you turned around, resting on your elbow. Your untied bikini had not followed so you watched as his face fell in realization. Youngjae's mouth opened in awe, eyes glued to your bare perky breasts. At the moment, there was absolutely nothing going on in that male brain of his. He didn’t move; you helped.

As soon as you put one of his hands on your chest, he came back to life. 

“Jesusfuck,” he breathed out, completely winded.

Wow.

Church baby boys were the best.

Entertained, you reached for the sunscreen, pouring lotion on yourself again. “You aren't done.”

“I…” Youngjae swallowed back his protests, cupping your boobs with both hands. He couldn't even look up anymore, enthralled by your nakedness.

No matter what their intentions were, it seemed good guys were still guys after all. If you had known he was this easy to overwhelm, you would’ve walked around topless sooner.

“The neighbours will see us...”

He didn't seem to mind that much, seeing as his thumbs were stroking your pierced nipples relentlessly. If those middle-aged housewives you only caught glimpses off looked over the edge now, they’d have a pretty impressive show. 

“Let them,” sitting, you snaked a hand to his dramatic bulge. Your mouths got so close you felt his breath ghost over. Beaten by your expertise, his shorts’ button came undone first, his fly was even more compliant. 

The moment of truth.

Youngjae's whole body shook when you took his cock in your palm. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing. Fuck, he was so hard and flushed for you. He pinched your erected nipples in response and you felt a familiar vivid jolt of pleasure and pain down to your toes. Not a virgin, after all, no doubt he would handle you just fine. 

You pressed your mouth to his neck and sucked, right where his Adam's apple bobbed.

That's it, all for you. You were so going to eat up that good boy.

“Mmmm, I’ll tell daddy you’re treating me so fucking well...”

Of all the filthy things you had said so far, this was the one that got the strongest reaction. The wrong one. Youngjae jerked up to his feet, tugging at his shorts in panic. He swore a dozen of times, out of his mind as you stood there, frozen still.

“Sorry,” he offered at last, pitiful before running for his life to the house. 

Fuck.

No.

Surely you were feverish. 

Having a heatstroke.

You had imagined the whole thing.

You had not just being left out cold by a man.

This type of shit never happened to girls like you. 

It took a few minutes to gather back your thoughts and when you did, you decided this wasn't even close to completion.

Without wasting a second more you stormed inside the house, almost flying upstairs to that mythical off-limits bedroom of his. You didn't bother banging, he was in such a hurry he forgot to lock behind, so the door flew open. 

Like a scene straight up from a bad porno, Youngjae spun on his computer chair, a hand still wrapped around his fully erected dick. You couldn't believe your eyes.

“Are you jerking off?” He was already pulling up his shorts again to cover himself, caught red-handed, blushing as though you hadn't been doing it yourself a moment ago.

“I’m sorry, I don't think you–”

“Please don't stop on my behalf,” you waltzed in, confident, and sat on his well-made good boy's bed.

“W-What?” Youngjae blinked, even more, rattled by the sight. 

He didn't leave because he didn't want you, he clearly did. He probably only left because of his father and that dumb promise he mentioned.

“Is this how you've been dealing all along?” You laid back on the comforter, smirking and remembering all those afternoons by the pool you’d thought you’d seen his curtains fall. He certainly enjoyed spying so it gave you an idea. He could try to resist you all he wanted, you'd still made him cave. “You don't want to touch me, right?” Your step-brother nodded, spellbound. “Because you're the perfect son.”

He swallowed hard, “But you keep… Saying those things, sunbathing… And to my friends...”

“Yes, you’re right... So let's start over.” You sighed in fake contrition, “I'm sorry, I've made this so hard for you. I’ll be good too from now on.”

Youngjae scoffed in disbelief, “You are sitting topless on my bed.”

“Oh,” looking down at yourself, you cupped your breasts. “I thought you liked the looking.” His cock was standing up, glorious testimony to this mess. “Don't worry, I get it. I promise I won’t let you touch me...” Throwing your head back without breaking eye contact, you moaned and lightly twisted one of your pierced nipples. “But I’ll make you watch...” Out of his mind, Youngjae did just that as you caressed your own chest for him. Somehow his eyes on you now burned even better than his hands earlier. 

You were so turned on, so worked up by all the days of teasing and loneliness. Your hips started swaying on his bed, craving some fiction and release. 

“You're crazy,” his voice was laboured but he had yet to escape again. This time you wouldn't have followed.

“I-I'm so wet, Youngjae...” Giving in, your right hand fell to your sex, rubbing your last piece of clothing. He was captivated. 

“Fuck it,” he immediately breathed out in surrender, hand wrapping around his dick. That was it, you finally had him. He was all in, playing along with your new favourite family game.

No touching, just innovative teamwork.

You had to establish ground rules, but pushing them was what fun was all about.

“I want you so bad...” You mewled, slipping your middle finger inside your bikini bottom.

Stroking himself, Youngjae groaned, “So you’ve been saying baby, but now you have to show me.”

Oh shit. You were going to come so fast if the golden son had other surprises like that. In a hurry, you wormed out of your panties before he could change his mind once more. In front of his fully clothed self, you laid back, touching your damp slit while he observed intently. The whole experience was surreal, your mind was buzzing, overwhelmed by the wrongness of it all.

It felt so amazing though.

Touching yourself for your step-brother was the sexiest thing you’d ever experienced, and you were very accomplished. You would’ve done anything he'd asked of you, and Youngjae knew that but he abided by his dumb rules. Standing up he came closer, boxer messily shoved down from his earlier haste, one hand was in his hair, the other working hard. You kept rubbing your clit repeatedly letting him see, hastening the pace until you were numb all over, panting. 

“Youngj-jae, I-I–”

Moaning, you broke faster than you had ever with someone, then again no one knew how to make you reach your own high better than yourself. Paroxysm made your thighs jerked as the pleasure waved through you, annihilating all sense of your surroundings.

When you came back, your step-brother was giving up too, bursting in thick spurts of hot cum all over your body and chest. His eyes were wide opened in black elation, intense, not missing a second of the show as he came on you. His whitish-gray seed painted your bareness in ribbons until he was completely emptied.

In silence, Youngjae dropped next to you on the bed, hands covering his face as you both caught your breaths. His now softening dick was still protruding out of his shorts and underwear for the world to see. It probably made for quite a view; your naked body covered in semen right by your respectable step-brother’s way more humble cock.

If your parents came home early, they would both have a stroke.

Youngjae sort of kept his word though... For today at least. 

Because now that you had him all over, you knew you were going to crave him under you.

And no man had ever resisted your charms before.

Step-brother or not.

[The Pleasure Chest: A Cringe Fest]

GOT7 | M.list

[cravingcrazewriting]

Cut My Hair

Trigger Warning- Mentions of suicide attempt and seizures

Having a brain tumor was never fun.

Everything was fine after junior year. Evan had an internship at Ellison State Park and despite still not having anyone to hang around with, it was still better than other years.

But then his head started to hurt. Then he had a seizure. And before he knew it, he was diagnosed with a brain tumor, and had to stay at the hospital and be prepared for surgery.

Surgery was extremely expensive, and it wasn't like he or his mom had money for that, but thankfully, his grandmother (on his mom's side) had sent down a check that covered over half of the payment. Evan felt a bit bad that she did that, because she was retired and she should be using that money for herself, not him.

He needed two different types of treatment. Chemotherapy and radiation therapy. Evan hated the radiation therapy, but it did help him. However, the surgery was still inevitable.

But the doctors were worried about a lack of socialization, so they decided to fix that. They decided they'd introduce Evan to another patient who was recently admitted into the hospital.

Someone who had just recently survived a suicide attempt, and was known for being emotionally unstable.

Yeah, that was definitely a smart idea.

Evan met him randomly at one point of day, with no warning whatsoever. Well, no forewarning, because the nurse came in and told him the mystery patient was coming in. Still, it wasn't enough time to mentally prepare himself.

The latter was named Connor, and he had long, brown hair that stopped at the bottom his chest. The normal hospital scrubs revealed red healing scars on his arms. He was like any other generic hospital patient, with heavy bags under his eyes.

"Sorry in advance that you're being dragged into my bullshit," Connor had mumbled, crossing his arms. "I'm Connor Murphy. You probably go to the same school as me, because there's only our school and the private school, and I'm positive I've seen you around."

That shouldn't have meant as much to Evan as it should've, but he was used to be forgetful, a single thought, in one ear and out the other, an outcast, but at least someone noticed him a little bit. "Y-Yeah, er, Eastwood High, r-right?"

Connor snapped his fingers. "Right! It's.. Evan, right? Evan Hansen? People pick... on you.." and he trails off, as a daunting truth falls on him. That he noticed Evan was being picked on, but didn't do anything. "I get picked on, too. I thought I'd make it worse if I tried interfering," he said defensively.

That piece of information doesn't scathe Evan, however, as he's finally been seen, and not as an inconvenience, not as the family friend, not as the burden full son, just another outcast at school, and as sad as that is, he can't help but mind it. Connor is just barely above him in the school's chain, but that only makes him more prime of a target. He doesn't find it very fair, but he'd never find the courage to smack talk the popular kids.

"N-no, no, you're okay! I.. I get it. And I'm Evan, yes," Evan was smiling like a huge dork, but he couldn't help it. He was finally seen, after so long, and even if the situation wasn't ideal, it still meant the world to him.

Connor was obviously trying to hold back a smile, but was failing. "So Hansen, got any hobbies?"

And Evan was off, talking about how before the doctors discovered his brain tumor that he had interned as an apprentice ranger at Ellison, and that he learned a ton about trees, and told Connor a little bit about it. Connor didn't make fun of him about it, though, unlike Jared, who'd say Evan must've had a tree kink or something, which was just a dick move because there wasn't a lot of things that sparked Evan's interest like that. Connor, in fact, talked about how everyone needed to help clean the environment and apparently he was passionate about that, so they had a common interest (Evan though, at least. He was never sure).

They hung out a lot and just talked. It made Evan feel normal, like there wasn't something inside his brain trying to kill him.

Jared visited with his family, and he actually seemed to feel bad for Evan. He'd purchased a small potted plant to help brighten up his hospital room. Evan appreciated it greatly.

Nearing the end of the week, Connor had told him he was going to be released at the start of the next week, and asked Evan for his number. Of course they exchanged numbers.

Evan wanted to spend as much time as possible with Connor, but it was growing harder for him to focus or not be throwing his guts out. He was having more seizures than ever.

Apparently this meant that the surgery had to be moved to an earlier date.

Evan didn't get a chance to tell Connor because it happened so fast. He felt incredibly bad. One minute his mom was talking to the surgeon, and the next he was given antibiotics to knock him out.

He had rested a lot, feeling weak from the surgery. It was successful according to the surgeon, which was a huge relief to him and his mother.

Did he forget to mention he had to get his head completely shaved? It felt embarrassing, but Heidi tried to help. She bought him a dark blue beanie so no one would bug him that much.

Evan was soon able to muster enough strength to look at his phone. He received a shit ton from Connor regarding the surgery.

Connor:

The nurses aren't letting me see u. Is everything ok?

Connor:

I tried asking them but they won't answer

Connor:

Ev, what's going on?

Connor:

Ev?

Connor:

I'm kinda freaked out. Pls respond asap

Connor:

Holy shit

Connor:

Ur mom told me. I'm sorry

Connor:

I hope it goes well

Connor:

Hey!! Heard the surgery went ok. How're u feeling?

Connor:

Heidi said ur resting. I'll leave u be

Connor:

Ok I lied

Connor:

I miss talking with u. But u need rest

Connor:

We'll hang out this summer, right? I'm somehow not going to rehab

Connor:

Fuck, I'll stop now. Just respond when ur better

Evan sighed. Connor claimed not to be talkative, but this proved otherwise. It was just too exhausting to try and corollate words that he pulled up SnapChat and took a photo of his bedsheets. He added a caption saying "hey, sorry I scared you" before sending it to the latter.

After a few minutes, Connor had responded with a picture of where his door used to reside. "It's okay," the caption read, "it isn't your fault"

A picture of the heart monitor was sent next. "What happened to your door?"

Connor sent back a picture of his black sketchbook. It wasn't opened. "Dad took it down. He thinks it'll help monitor me"

Evan moved the conversation to a chat, because he was running out of things to take pictures of, and switching apps seemed like a hassle to him.

"Well, he's trying"

"Can I tell you something?"

Of course, this made Evan anxious, but he knew Connor. In the five days they were together they already were growing close, probably because they were both incredibly lonely. Cliche as it might've sounded to anyone else, but Evan trusted him.

"Sure what is it?"

But of course Evan didn't get a response right away. SnapChat sent him a message saying 'Connor Murphy is typing...", and after he pulled up their conversation, there was the ever long three blue dots waiting for him, signaling that Connor was typing a response. But he took forever and it didn't help the anxiety quelling in his chest.

Then, he finally got a response.

"I like you. Like, a lot more than I probably should. And I know it's stupid, because we've only known each other for a week, but I know you're different than everyone else. You actually listen to me, you make me feel safe, and I don't want to loose you. I get it if you don't like the school shooter or whatever, I just don't want to loose you. Please."

And, of course Evan was flattered, and it was hard to corollate what he wanted to say through text, but he didn't want to keep Connor waiting so he could spiral, so he frantically typed out a response.

"I don't think it's stupid. I think it's super sweet, and I like you back. Even if you don't believe it, I'll do everything I can to prove it to you (also, don't call yourself a school shooter. You're so much more than that)"

Evan remembered how the next day Connor had came in, holding huge stuffed bear for him, smiling sheepishly as he set it on his bed, and asked him out on a date to A La Mode when he was released.

Evan had enthusiastically accepted, and couldn't help but anticipate the date.

Connor never made a big deal out of his hair being cut off. He did know Evan was self conscious of it, and made an effort to kiss the back of his head and reassure him that he didn't care about his lack of hair.

As much as this helped, Evan felt like he was being stared at in public, and he kept his head down, eyes glued to the floor. He did however notice Connor glaring at anyone who muttered a thing about it, or looked at him the wrong way.

One day, when he watching Chopped out of boredom, he received a text message from Connor, asking if he could come over. Evan told him he was more than fine with it, and waited for the latter to arrive.

What he wasn't expecting was Connor, with ear length hair.

"What, what h-happened? Did your dad, d-did he make you cut it?" Evan of course liked it, he thought it was cute, but it didn't stop his anxiety from going haywire.

"Nope," he popped the 'p', smiling, hiding something behind his back. "I did it willingly. Can you let me inside so I'll show you your surprise?"

Evan nodded, moving out of his way so Connor could step into the house. Afterwards, Connor said, "Now close your eyes, and take off your beanie."

Evan didn't know what that had to do with anything but complied, awkwardly standing there as he listened to Connor rummage through a paper bag, and felt something soft being placed onto his head.

Connor carefully put the beanie back on afterwards and gently took ahold of his shoulders. "Alrighty, now follow my lead."

Evan tried his best not to stumble around as Connor lead him to who knew where in his house. He felt Connor stop and stopped as well.

"Okay, you can open your eyes!" Connor told him, and he sounded oddly excited.

Evan slowly opened his eyes and gasped. There on his head, sat a brown wig, and his beanie was placed on top of it. It was styled a bit like Connor's, but it stopped near the end of his neck.

"Connor! Holy shit, h-how'd you do this?" Evan turned to him.

Connor was smiling and shifting from foot to foot. "Cynthia knows someone who makes wigs, so I went to her shop and cut my hair for your wig."

"You didn't have to do this..." he said softly.

"Evan, I'd cut my hair a million times if it'd make you happy," Connor took his hands and held them.

Evan swung them back and forth. "You're.. god. You're so amazing, but like, really corny, too."

Connor snorted. "Wow, I'm feeling the love, all right."

"Hey, thanks for, you know, doing this," Evan gently brushed a bang out of Connor's face.

"Well how else was I supposed to make you get a matching hair color?"

"Oh my god, shut up!"

[shadowmaat]

star wars asks: 1 10 18?

1.  do you find force users or non-force users more interesting?

Both. LOL! I’m more interested in characterization than focusing on Force sensitive vs. non. I do think it’s a shame that Force sensitives get most of the glory, though, when workaday “normal” people can be plenty awesome on their own. I wish we could get a Star Wars story without any Force sensitives at all, or maybe toss in one who only has a weak connection and see how they manage to make that work for them. A surgeon with just enough power to slow a patient’s bleedout, but has to rely on their real skills to save them. An archaeologist with uncanny “hunches” on the best places to dig at sites. An assassin who never misses and/or always manages to find the one weak spot in someone’s armor.

That being said, I also think it’s a shame that a lot of people try and take someone’s hard-earned skills and make it all about the Force instead. Is the idea of Han Solo being Force sensitive fun? Absolutely! Mostly because he hates the idea so much. But implying he’s Force sensitive means that it’s less about how talented he is and more about the Force giving him an advantage he otherwise wouldn’t have.

I think it would also help to see more non-Jedi/Sith Force users. And not the Jedi-Lite/Sith-Lite stuff we’re getting in the sequel trilogy: I want to see them explore philosophies that are entirely their own with their own rules and ethics. That would be interesting as hell to me.

10.  do you think the jedi were right or wrong?

I think they had the right ideas, but tended to go about it the wrong way. By the Prequels Era the Jedi had become too complacent and set in their ways, and it opened the doors to all kinds of hell. Any kind of big organization needs to learn to be flexible and change to fit the times they’re in. Following centuries old dogma just because ���that’s the way we’ve always done it” isn’t a healthy mindset. Change is essential for growth, and the Jedi didn’t learn that fast enough. They didn’t deserve what happened to them, but they played a part in their own downfall.

Their core ideals, however, are good ones. Going out and helping others? You can’t fault that. Trying to stop darkness from taking over? Yup, good stuff. Trying to instill values so they don’t become engorged on their own power and seize control of the universe “for its own good” or whatever? Damn right. I just think they could have found better ways to go about it. I especially think they should have done more to interact with everyday people so that they didn’t develop a reputation for being mysterious and reclusive, or only helping out in “big” things like natural disasters or political negotiations.

Imagine having Jedi healers working side-by-side with regular doctors, helping to save regular people with their extraordinary talents, instead of the healers only working on (primarily) other Jedi.

Imagine having Jedi Knights working with police in crisis intervention or hostage negotiations, where they can use their talents to help keep tempers calm or find the right things to say to stop someone from jumping off a building.

Not them replacing anyone, but lending assistance and showing they care about everyone, even those who aren’t Force sensitive. Heck, just imagine some dork of a Jedi managing to levitate some kid’s cat out of a tree. LOL! Good humanitarian efforts (and man, we really DO need a word for that that isn’t human-centric) and in cases like that it also frees up the firemen or whatever to worry about bigger problems.

Anyway, the Jedi as a group were good, they were just, perhaps, a little off the mark in some of their efforts. Room for improvement with a few “what the hell were they thinking?” bits thrown in.

18.  what is your favorite star wars book or comic?

hhhhh. I haven’t read a lot of them? I loved the Poe Dameron comics for a while, right up until Poe decided to “kill” a droid and replace its personality with one that was more convenient to his efforts. I have a lot of deep-seated issues about how droids are treated in Star Wars, and that was just appalling to me, as was the fact that no one else- including the audience- seemed to blink at it. Everyone just accepted it as the right thing to do. Urg.

Otherwise, there's Wrath of Darth Maul, which is just heartbreaking to read and gives a lot of really great (and terrible) background into how Maul was raised, leading up to his confrontation on Naboo and then the fallout from that. Like, yeah, he's a bad guy, but his upbringing was brutal and it adds a whole lot of dimension to the character. All the more reason for me to write more fluff about him. ;)

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[thessalian]

It’s kind of hard to have family get-togethers, with my family. I mean, anywhere Great-Aunt Larial goes is considered holy ground, which is fantastic for that whole side of the family; Sir-Mom and most of her siblings and cousins, y’know? But Great-Aunt Leucaria can’t step on holy ground, and neither can Uncle von Weebleteets (von Weisenhaupt, really, but it really gets on his last nerve when I call him that after scarfing down a bag of garlic fries), and Necro-Mom just thinks it’s tacky that she can’t bring her latest undead creation without it falling apart. She’s still never forgiving Cousin Ethelbert for what he did to my first pet. Let’s just say when she said ‘half corgi’, she meant it literally, and the other half was platypus.

Don’t even get me started on Aunt Maisie’s whole family - that whole branch of a family full of paladins and they get bitten by one of Necro-Mom’s friends at a family barbecue that turned into a Creatures of Darkness Support Meeting. Honorary Cousin Rutherford was just really angry about the whole ‘creature of darkness’ moniker and a fight broke out between him and Uncle von Weebleteets and that whole branch of Necro-Mom’s family tree because apparently Honorary Cousin Rutherford’s pack was giving creatures of darkness a bad name by ... insisting ... they aren’t?

Look, my family’s weird, okay? And we hate family meetings. They never turn out well. I don’t even know how my moms got together, never mind how they adopted me. Uncle von Weebleteets takes credit because he insists he ate my birth family and then gave me to Necro-Mom as a gift - either to raise or as spare parts; he didn’t specify. Maybe they thought raising a kid would patch up their staggering marriage, I dunno. But all it got me was pressure. Aunt Maisie and the cousin-pack insisting that Honorary Cousin Rutherford would be happy to give me a little nip in a spot that wouldn’t show the scars too badly ... though Cousin Rowp always adds ‘unless you’re into that’, which ... really?!? And Uncle von Weebleteets won’t go near me but his cousins keep doing the peer pressure thing and they are such collosal dorks. Though maybe not as dorkish as Necro-Mom, who keeps leaving pamphlets like “Waste Not, Want Not - Necromancy For The Aspiring Transplant Surgeon” around the place, same as Sir-Mom leaves these paladin squire recruitment pamphlets ... unless that’s Great-Aunt Larial abusing miracles again. Great-Aunt Leucaria’s not remotely subtle about it. She keeps trying the tempation shtick and then I have to tell her I’m asexual and then she starts yelling at Great-Aunt Larial about forcing her ideas of decency onto me via removing my sex drive and Great-Aunt Larial goes all BE NOT AFRAID (which is not reassuring, even when she is family) and this is why I’ve had to redecorate my room eight times this year.

The point is, they all called a family meeting because, after about three years of coming home to recruitment campaigns that put most country’s militaries to shame, they finally decided to all corner me, right after my graduation ceremony, to force an answer out of me about what I’m going to do with my life.

So I’m standing there - Necro-Mom and her five siblings and all eighty-five of my cousins (Uncle von Weebleteets got a lot of neck in his day and his cousins are just as profligate) and Great-Aunt Leucaria on one side, and Sir-Mom with her famous blessed sword her eight brothers and their Order of Blessed Whatever, and Great-Aunt Larial and Aunt Maisie’s pack ... and I’m still there in my robe and mortarboard, and it’s Great-Aunt Larial who does that commanding voice thing (let’s just say none of the kids on Sir-Mom’s side ever gave back-talk when told to clean up our rooms, because she’d just turn up and make us) who says, “Your parents have worried. We have all worried. Choose.”

Thankfully, I had an answer already prepared, and would have given it to them a lot more gently if they hadn’t decided to get their drama on. “I already have. Actually, I’ve already got a job. And while I’m not following any of you into any of the family businesses, I have you to thank for it.”

Necro-Mom’s the one who finally speaks up; I guess you regain composure pretty easily when you deal with undead abominations on a regular basis. “What job?”

"Writing pilots for about eight different streaming services,” I told them. “Look, the ‘relatable and comic supernatural’ thing was already starting to gain some traction, and all the streaming services offering exclusive self-made content wanted in on that. I’ve been cherry-picking diary entries for the amusement of the masses for six months. Also, I’m moving in with Letty out in Denver. Like, pretty much right now.”

Sir-Mom looked really shocked. “Letty? The one planning to go to law school?!? I mean, justice is a thing to which to aspire, but they ... they sell their version of justice to the highest bidder and defend the indefensible!”

“Let’s just say that a lifetime watching Great-Aunt Leucaria at work taught me how valuable it is to have a contract lawyer, even a trainee one, on permanent call. Especially if she really likes my meatloaf. Sorry to skip the party; I have a flight to catch. Just ... if you’re going to fight instead of celebrate, try not to destroy the entire town?”

Walking away never felt quite so satisfying as it did on seeing the looks on their faces. And just before I got in the car, I heard Aunt Maisie, who always has to have the last word, say something about, “...better be giving me credit for my meatloaf recipe...”

You family consists of Paladins, Necromancers, Werewolves, Vampires, Angels and Demons. All of them try to peer pressure you, a teenager, to take up their craft. At the next family event they expect you to have made a decision. You decided against all of them.

[arboright]

Why Is It Important to Prune Trees Regularly?

Most people tend to plant a tree and forget about it. While the smaller plants, gardens and greenhouse plants are meticulously cared for, it isn’t the same with trees. Most people do not realize that trees, even if they are fully grown, have to be cared for so that they remain healthy.

[mediamorenew]

Why Is It Important to Prune Trees Regularly?

Most people tend to plant a tree and forget about it. While the smaller plants, gardens and greenhouse plants are meticulously cared for, it isn’t the same with trees. Most people do not realize that trees, even if they are fully grown, have to be cared for so that they remain healthy.

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[hourlyjobupdates-blog]

Second Climber / Tree Surgeon / Arborist jobs in England and UK

Second Climber / Tree Surgeon / Arborist jobs in England and UK

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Second Climber / Tree Surgeon / Arborist jobs in Dorking, Surrey, United Kingdom

Job Description:

We are recruiting for an Arborist / Tree Surgeon – Second Climber in the Dorking area for a leading supplier…