#own learning and instead becoming responsible for his and so i eventually had to pull the plug and switch and now its okay! because i got

[friiday-thirteenth]

.

[ohbo-ohno]

cuckolding - simon ‘sells his sperms’ to reader and her bf who’s infertile. they can’t afford ivf so the traditional way it is but just the tip and jerking off into her pussy. that’s what was agreed anyway

simon ends up taking whatever he wants from her because how can we fuck if we aren’t properly aroused sweetheart? let’s do a few rounds to increase the chances eh? she’s so desperate for a baby that she complies. she’s secretly into it even. poor reader’s bf :( watching her make out with this stranger and take his cock in her mouth too

hello beloved. im ghoapifying this. pls forgive me

smth about johnny having kinks that he doesn't want to admit to/doesn't recognize... him subconsciously looking for a way to get those needs met...... it's delicious

thinking about you and johnny deciding you want a kid but after months and months of trying with no results, you're starting to lose a bit of hope. the both of you get your fertility checked, and johnny is pretty crushed to learn that he's shooting blanks. makes your relationship a little rocky for a while tbh bc he becomes kinda obsessed with proving his own virility to himself

when you two eventually decide (through a mix of dirty talk, pillow talk, and very emotional conversations) that you want to try ivf, you realize pretty much immediately after that you don't have the thousands upon thousands of dollars necessary just lying around. it's johnny who consoles you when you realize you won't be able to afford the treatment, and it's johnny who decides that he's going to fix the problem himself

(ghost is looking for odd jobs when he spots the listing on craigslist. smth so terribly worded that he almost thinks it's a joke, at first. there's not a single comma used properly, it seems like every other word is misspelled, but the earnestness is clear through the screen. the request was posted five minutes ago, and ghost is the eighth comment - a quick glance at the other accounts shows him that he's the youngest by at least a decade)

soap and ghost message, for a while. soap is pushy as hell, asks for pictures of ghost's face and gets a few of his cock instead. says he's not sure if ghost is the right pick, since he looks nothing like johnny, but keeps messaging him anyway. simon is pushy as hell, asks everyday when they're gonna meet up, gets pissy when johnny keeps pushing it off

(soap sends pictures of you sometimes. they start out innocent enough, pictures of your face from your instagram or your side profile when you won't catch him with his phone up. johnny finds it easy to ignore the guilt he feels when ghost says send me one of what i'll be fucking and johnny does, sends a picture of you fucked out and face down that you had no idea existed. you're limp, slick and come dripping from your hole, and johnny can't help the way he gets hard when ghost's only response is one without your useless spunk inside her. she won't have to put up with it much longer)

when you finally meet ghost, you're unaware of all of this, of course. johnny had just told you he wanted you to meet a friend of his from work, and you'd been excited to go out for a night on the town with him. you'd found simon off-putting, to be honest, but he'd already said he'd be picking up the tab, so you just indulge in a few more shots than you normally would and stay cuddled close to johnny most of the night.

johnny only tells you the real reason he introduced you two when ghost says 'm steppin out for a cigarette, i'll pull the car around for you two and lumbers off, lighter already out.

ye still want a bairn, right? johnny had said, eyes bright as he wrapped his arms around you, kept you pressed close to him. simon can give one to you, to us. he's not even gonna charge us, bonnie, how great is tha'? you'd gaped at him a little, and he'd interpreted your expression as fear. hush, naw, don't worry, lass, i'll be there the whole time. promise i won't let him hurt you, yeah? we can even hold hands, alright?

the time between you sitting in a booth with your legs thrown over your boyfriend's lap and your back flat on your bed is a blur in your mind

simon is heavy over you, both of your wrists held in one of his hands as he ruts against you. you're drunk enough that you can't focus on much but the heat between your thighs and the long kiss simon has kept you locked in. he strips you easily, forcing you high up on the bed so you can rest in the pillows, forcing your legs around his hips so he can pin you

it's only when he pulls back to undo his belt and strip himself that you finally remember johnny is in the room too.

he's bent over the edge of the bed, hardly two feet away, and you can hear the sound slick sound of him fisting his cock, can feel the way the bed shakes just a bit as he fucks his own hand. you sort of whine, reaching out for him, soothed when his free hand links with yours, his own eyes a little wet like they always are when he gets so hard that his thoughts melt away

"eyes here," ghost grunts, big hand covering one half of your face as he forces your gaze away from your boyfriend and back to him. "you don't need to look at him. he's not the one gettin you knocked up, is he?"

you and johnny moan in tandem for that, and your eyes are wide as saucers when you finally look down at the battering ram between ghost's thighs, the ruddy tip of him leaking as he strokes himself.

"you're too big," you manage to gasp, squirming back.

ghost makes a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, lining himself up with your drippy hole and pushing in without warning. you nearly squeal at the stretch, digging your nails into his shoulders and pushing against his thighs with the heels of your feet. your squirming doesn't stop him, and he doesn't give you even a second to adjust as he uses his weight to sink himself to the hilt inside of you

he makes you look in the eye while he fucks you. and he talks a lot - he says more while he's inside you than he did your entire evening in the bar earlier

you feel good, huh? this the first time you ever had a real man fuck you? yeah, the brat humpin' the bed isn't enough for you. bet you always felt empty when he fucked you, but he didn't even need to stretch you out before rutting here. a hand rubbing your clit, making you nearly scream from the added pleasure as he fucks you so hard that the headboards slamming against the wall. bet my seed'll take first try he grunts into your ear, and you hear johnny moan from your left. might even give you more than one, huh? have you fat and round with my babies, make him watch you grow and take care of you, if he can even manage that.

when simon finally comes, he fills you up more than johnny ever had. makes you wait to come until he does first, too, tells you that he googled it while pinching and twisting your clit until you burst beneath him, your cunt squeezing his soft cock as your eyes roll back in your head

(johnny cuddles you, after. he tries to fuck you but ghost won't let him, holds him back by the hips and squeezes his balls until he goes soft, spits i don't want your spunk fucking with mine. you gonna waste my time like that? thought you wanted me to fuck your girl pregnant? were you lying, johnny, or you just so fuckin' desperate that you'll break our deal? and johnny whines and cries but listens, holding you close and pressing his cock against your folds but never inside of you)

((ghost doesn't leave the next morning. doesn't leave the next week, actually. he fucks you every day, even when you insist that you're not ovulating anymore, that he doesn't have to keep trying to get you pregnant. the first time he eventually lets johnny fuck you again, he holds him by the hips and stuffs a few fingers inside you along johnny's cock, says she got used to me, johnny, we'll have to give her a little extra if you want her to let you fuck her again and laughs when johnny whines.))

(((he doesn't even leave when you take your first pregnancy test and get positive results. he rubs your back as johnny scoops you up off the ground, rumbles his own quiet congratulations. a few days later you try to hint that he can leave now, that you and johnny don't need him anymore. he doesn't listen, but that's okay, because you can't quite imagine what you would do if he did leave, how you and johnny would function without his rock steadiness - you're relationship had been a rollercoaster before simon, insane highs and terrible lows, all smoothed out when ghost came into the picture and started playing referee for the two of you)))

((((when you're eight months pregnant, you lounge in a rocking chair as johnny rubs your feet and simon builds a crib.))))

[creamsickle-writes]

Never Again: Monkey D. Luffy x F!Reader

Tags: nsfw, breeding, fingering, guilt-tripping, baby trapping, and yeah, this one is just kinda messed up

Luffy couldn’t see anything but red when you announced your decision to everyone.

“I think,” you said, “it’s time for me to leave the crew.”

Everyone chattered amongst one another at the table, and you smiled softly, your brows creasing, “It’s been fun, but-“

A loud slam disrupted your departure speech. You lifted your head up to see Luffy, your boyfriend and Captain, with his fists against the wood of the table. 

Your eyes widened as you saw his face, his brows knit in anger and teeth clenched. His fist is bone white as he clenches it tight. 

“Don’t say stupid things!”

“L-Luffy-“

Everyone looks at the Captain with varying levels of worry on their face. Luffy never took goodbyes well, but he couldn’t let you go. He was attached to you at the hip, constantly hugging and kissing you. His face soured, and his stomach turned at the thought of you abandoning the crew. 

“You can’t leave us!” His voice cracks, “You can’t leave me!”

The room goes silent, and everyone waits for your response, but your lips purse together, not saying a word. 

Eventually, you speak up, “Please, don’t take it that way. I love you guys, you know that…”

Luffy furrows his brow and looks down at his food, steam practically coming from his body as hot tears well up in his eyes. 

This was stupid. 

And you were about to make a stupid mistake. 

But all he says is, “If you need to leave, then fine. Go ahead and leave us.”

“Luffy, I-“

Luffy’s lip quivers, and for the first time ever, you’ve heard him utter the phrase, “I’m not hungry anymore.”

Everyone looks shocked as he gets up from his chair and kicks the door to the dining room open, exiting the area. Everything is silent as you’re about to chase after him, but Robin puts a hand on your shoulder, “Perhaps we should give him some time.”

You simply look down at your plate, your own appetite ruined.

_____

Later that night, you sit in the crow’s nest, keeping watch. It might be your last time doing so. You sigh as you think that; your last time keeping watch? Was this really what you wanted? Before, you seemed sure about leaving the crew, but after Luffy’s outburst, you weren’t so sure. 

You really loved Luffy. You’d even go so far as to say he was the one for you. But… you didn’t know if you could be a Straw Hat anymore. You felt like you just held everyone back. After the two years you’d been separated, everyone grew much stronger, but you felt that you remained stagnant. After all, you were left on an island full of academic types with little room for learning anything new about fighting. At least when Nami was stuck with intellectuals, it was helpful to her fighting style.

You sighed; even though your body didn’t get stronger, your mind had become more skilled. You had thought multiple times about becoming the Straw Hats’ tactician, but you knew Luffy, he wouldn’t ever follow a plan, so you decided your new skills were nothing short of useless. 

You lean against the window, chewing on your lip as you ponder it. Even if you were useless, you didn’t want to leave… but all you were was a waste of space on the ship, an extra mouth to feed.

You feel like crying, but instead, you jump when you hear the hatch to the nest open. Out pops Luffy, an intense look in his eye. 

“L-Luffy-“

He stalks towards you and doesn’t say a word, kissing you deeply as you sit on the bench. You gasp against his lips as his tongue lolls out from his mouth, swiping against your smooth lips. 

He pulls back, his eyes blown wide and drool sliding down from the corner of his mouth, “You’re not leaving me.” 

“Luffy, what-“ 

Your sentence deteriorates into a moan as he attacks your neck with his teeth, nibbling and sucking at it. You toss your head back, whimpering as he has his way with your body. 

His hands unapologetically reach for your breasts, molding them as best as they can with your bra in the way. Your breath hitches as he licks up your neck, stopping at your earlobe. 

“Need to get this stupid thing off,” he straight-up growls into your ear before tearing your dress in half, leaving you clad in only your bra and panties. You want to cover yourself, but he grabs your wrists, pinning them to either side of you. 

His lips are back on yours again, his tongue prying your mouth open. You moan as he explores your mouth, his tongue massaging your own. 

As his lips are busy with yours, his hands move to your back, clumsily unclipping your bra and taking it off your body. He groans as he takes a handful of your breasts in each hand, pulling and twisting at your nipples. You arch into his touch, your eyes rolling back behind your eyelids.

Teeth clink together as you sloppily kiss, the action desperate and needy. Luffy doesn’t let up as he takes you into his lap, pushing your panties to the side. 

He rubs his rough fingers over your clit, coaxing more juices from your hole. You can’t help how you flutter and tighten from his actions, wanting him more than anything. 

His fingers slide inside you, and he immediately begins assaulting your frontmost walls, finger pads pressing hard against that sensitive patch within you. Your eyes roll back as Luffy mashes your g-spot, trying to get you to cum.

“Need you wet,” he growls, “Gotta have you squirt all over me.”

Your mouth hangs open, and you flush at his dirty words. Luffy didn’t usually talk much during sex, only saying how good you felt or letting out moans- so this was very different for you.

As he assaults your sensitive spot, you slap a hand over your mouth, causing him to work faster. He wanted, no, he needed to hear you call out for him.

You grab his wrist, but he doesn’t let up, and you finally cum all over his fingers. Your slick drops down his digits, and Luffy lets out a satisfied grunt. Your eyes are closed, but you hear the sound of a zipper running along a track.

He places you on the bench once more before standing up and taking you into his arms. You gasp when you’re picked up, but Luffy stretches his arms around your torso, wrapping you tightly. 

He’s holding you by your ass, gently lowering you down on his cock. He grunts in frustration as the head misses a few times, but finally, the tip pushes past your entrance. 

Luffy pushes you down all the way onto his cock, your pelvis pressed against his. You hold on to him tightly, your arms draped around his shoulders and your face resting in the crook of his neck.

It doesn’t take long before Luffy begins to pound into you. He never started off slow and certainly wouldn’t start now that you were about to possibly be gone forever. 

But he would make sure that wouldn’t happen.

He had to.

Your legs seize up as he holds you still, thrusting into you as you dangle above the floor. You knew he wouldn’t drop you, but it was still a bit scary to not be firmly planted anywhere. 

“Gonna… put a baby in you,” he huffs, “This way, you’ll never leave me!”

“L-Luffy!” You gasp, but he keeps going.

“We’ll be a family, okay?” He grunts, “You’ll be the mom, and I’ll be the dad, and we’ll have a baby!”

Your head goes dizzy at his explanation. He was planning on keeping you here by trapping you? A pit grows in your stomach, and suddenly you feel guilty for causing him to think of something so extreme. 

Luffy then lowers you back into the bench, unwrapping his arms so he can push your legs over his shoulders.

He groans above you, his forehead pressed against yours as he pounds into you mercilessly.

Your legs shake as his swollen head, glazed with your honey, ruts against your g-spot. Your eyes flutter shut as he works you over, his being feeling all-encompassing.

“Please, don’t leave me-“Luffy whimpers, his hips speeding up as he repeats it over and over like a mantra.

And before you know it, he’s bursting, cum flooding your pussy. You squeak as you feel it pool within you, some leaking out of your hole.

Luffy kisses you again between ragged breaths. He releases you and pulls back slightly, looking you in the eyes.

“Don’t leave me like Ace did.”

[ash5monster01]

Learning to Love Part 2

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x FemReader!PlusSize

Warnings: 18+, langauge, angst, fluff, mentions of bullying, body image issues, fat shaming, fake relationship, eventual smut, minor enemies to lovers trope.

Summary: It's not uncommon for you to be shamed for your size, it is however uncommon to be told that no one would ever date you because of it. Rafe on the other hand is used to being called a jerk, that is until he is accused of seeing people for only what's on the surface. It's purely coicidental you two meet right after these accusations are thrown your way. So even though you two don't know each other, and probably never would've looked the others way before this, now you're both going to prove a point. It's simple really, prove others wrong and don't fall in love. Easier said than done.

word count: 2.1k

Part 1 ←→ Part 3

Masterlist

You and Rafe had spent the better part of the week getting to know each other. He would come to bar after work, pester you to leave until you caved, then you’d find yourself on some sort of adventure whether it was sneaking onto the beach after hours or just watching a movie in his apartment. There was no denying you were attracted to him but at least you both had established some sort of friendship. You had actually come to enjoy his company and you assumed he enjoyed yours too. Even Mila and Randy had come to enjoy him, liking how he brought out the leisure side of you. Considering all you ever do was work. They liked that you finally found someone that could pull you away to enjoy yourself. Too bad it wasn’t real.

That’s why when he shows up to the bar at seven o’clock on the dot as always, it takes no persuading from you to grab your bag and join him on the other side of the bar. His hand slides easily into your own, smirk worn proudly on his face, and you almost hate how simple all of this is. How he has become such a natural part of your routine in only a short time. It makes you realize how much harder this will be when it has to end. So you push away the feeling of despair, ignore the confused looks from customers, and tell yourself to worry about this another day.

“Have anything in mind for tonight?” Rafe leans down to whisper in your ear over the loud music in the bar. You try to ignore the shiver that crawls down your spine as you look at him.

“Not particularly” and this response paints a devious smirk across his features as he leads you out and to the same truck he’s been helping you into all week.

“Good because I have an idea” he grins at you once in the drivers seat and the minute he turns out of the parking lot you have a pretty good idea on where he was taking you.

It’s not a far drive to the beach which is where you realize he is taking you. The moon is almost full tonight, illuminating the black water in a white glow. You’ve discovered Rafe has a soft spot for the beach, you have an inclination it has something to do with his childhood. Yet you never bother to ask and follow him onto the dark beach instead to provide some company for him. You realize he was even prepared for this as he lays the blanket on the soft sand and helps you down to the ground. It’s when he joins your side you decide to speak up.

“Felt like the beach tonight huh?” you smile at him and Rafe’s eyes cast over you, so dark in the night but glimmering with admiration. Friendly admiration.

“Sometimes I forget how much I miss it. Before being this important person I was once just a kid who spent every day itching to get out on the water and surf” you see the pain in his eyes, the confusion, and if you were closer you’d know what to do to comfort him. Sadly he was still just a stranger, someone you had known for a week.

“We can surf sometime, I’m not very good but I enjoy it nonetheless” you tell him and what you don’t expect is the smile that cracks across his face.

“You’d go surfing for me?” you roll your eyes at his teasing tone but smile at him anyway.

“Sure you big dope” you tell him and he smiles before leaning back to lay in the sand. The stars reflect in his eyes and you find yourself imagining a life where Rafe could like a girl like you for real, to look at you with those same stars in his eyes, and choose you above anyone else. In fact, you wished there was any world that was possible.

“It’s crazy how fast you can go from caring about the things you like to what others think of you” the words he utters holds weight he doesn’t understand. You assume for the both of you. Rafe went from caring about things like surfing to pleasing others, the same way you went from enjoying life to hating what you had been dealt. Hating what you looked like and the outcome of that. Trying so desperately to change, to lose the weight, and in the end know that maybe you’d never trust someone for liking you as skinny if they never knew you when you were fat. It would always be there in the back of your mind, wondering if they’d have been here if you stayed the same.

“If it helps I think everyone does. You lose those little kid goggles and get thrown into the real world. Hence why middle school is so scary” you tell him, laying beside him and praying he doesn’t notice the way your breasts expand across your chest, the way your chin doubles due to the position change, and how your stomach sways to whatever side you lean towards. It’s the position that had those boys making beached whale jokes, is this position that makes you vulnerable and unattractive to most.

“I want to be carefree again. I forgot what it was like to live my life for myself and not others” he tells you and you nod, eyes scanning over the big dipper in the sky, the waves slowly crashing in your ears.

“We can do that too you know, this agreement between us doesn’t have to be just dating. We can help each other enjoy life again” you don’t know why you suggest it. You’re already nervous about the agreement you have going on, the last thing you need is another clause. There’s just something about Rafe Cameron that can’t keep you away.

“I’d like that, which brings me to my next thing” you turn your head to face him, eyebrows furrowing at his sentence.

“Next thing?” you question and his head rolls to face your own, palms resting across his stomach.

“I have a work event tomorrow night, I was hoping you’d attend” this has you sitting back up, heart rate accelerating at the thought of this finally becoming public. Had a week been enough for you to be convincing? After all your friends were convinced, Mila ecstatic for you. This was Rafe’s work friends, professional people.

“Wow, um yeah” Rafe sits up beside you, hand falling to your shoulder.

“I know it’s soon, I didn’t think it was a date event until today. I figured I should probably bring my fake girlfriend” you nod and he can see the nervousness in your eyes but just like the first time you both met he sees that fierce strength behind them. The will to not let anyone undermine your power.

“I’ll go, just tell me a time and dress code” you find yourself saying and he smiles which you return until that hand on your shoulder is running behind your hair and pushing it from your face.

“I was thinking we should kiss” this has you gaping like a fish, brain actually malfunctioning over his words.

“Kiss?” he doesn’t miss the fear that floods your features and he vaguely wonders what kind of emotional damage a person would have to have to react like this over a kiss. Something he had done a hundred times but has an inkling you’ve only done a few.

“Yeah, I know you said not a lot of PDA but I’m a touchy person. Those guys know that and I figure if I show up with a date I’m not affectionate towards they’ll catch on” you let his words settle in, try to let them ease your comforts. He watches you swallow away your nerves before adding on. “I figured our first kiss will be better to have in private then there”

“So a practice run?” you ask and he knows this is you trying to convince yourself of this, that something as simple as a kiss couldn’t be real.

“Yeah, work out all the kinks and stuff” and this has you snorting in laughter which makes him happy to know he’s lessened the pressure on you.

“Yeah, so hopefully we don’t smash noses or something” you tease back with a laugh but the laugh is cut short when his hand presses against your jaw, fingers curling behind your neck. You suck in a sharp breath as you prepare for what he’s about to do. You’re repeating over and over in your head this isn’t real but when his thumb slowly brushes across your bottom lip you find it to be useless. Rafe has bewitched you in every way a man can to a simple girl like you. Which means you’ve already broken the contract, a rule you made. A rule you’ll never admit to breaking in just a week.

“Ready?” and he knows you can’t answer but over the week he has also gotten to know you and if you didn’t want this you would say it.

So he leans forward, watches how your eyes flutter close and for a moment admires how God damn pretty you are before reaching his face to your own. You shudder against him when his lips just barely brush yours and his hot breath fanning across your face has your stomach doing somersaults. Finally he closes the gap, lips closing around your bottom lip before opening and moving in sync with your own. You desperately want to grab onto him but this isn’t real. It’s practice. So after a few beats and the most mind numbing kiss of your life he pulls away with a soft smile and you vaguely wonder how he looks so calm when he just kissed you stupid.

“See, nothing” and your stomach drops, butterflies killed. Rafe turns back to the water, not realizing what he just said had ruined it. You needed to get better at reminding yourself there is nothing to ruin. It was practice, practice that felt all too real and reminded you of exactly why this agreement was dangerous for you. You loved big, not fake.

“If you’re having me come to this dinner thing I do have something to ask” you muster up the nerve to say and he turns his attention back to you, lips a little swollen and eyes glossed over. He looks like a boy who’s just been kissed and for the first time you realize there doesn’t have to be feelings for him to look like that.

“Anything” he tells you earnestly and you stretch your fingers across your legs, feeling a bit silly for asking.

“Could you come to my apartment one of these nights? Mila has been bugging me about how we’re always at your place and never at ours. I figure if we were dating it would make sense for you to come over to mine too” you say and he nods while he takes to thought what you’ve just said.

“Yeah, that’s sounds fine. We could have dinner with Mila a night” he says and you smile to hide the nervousness of him agreeing. This wasn’t nerves for your feelings towards him, this was nerves over your best friend getting close enough to notice this might possibly be fake.

“Thank you” you tell him and he smirks his signature smirk and wraps an arm around your shoulders as his eyes cast back out and over the waves. To the naked eye you look like a real couple, staring gazing on the beach, and in the silence you pretend you are because you can keep yourself from ever telling Rafe how you feel but at least you have this. Pretend, something to hold you over for the rest of your life, because if you never had this for real you surely wouldn’t now.

So tomorrow when you officially start this agreement between you two, you make yourself promise to be prepared for the end. At then end of the day you agreed to prove a point but that wouldn’t take forever. Rafe will soon have to leave and marry the girl of his dreams and the girl you could only wish to be. Tomorrow was practically the end already but at least he was yours in some sense of the word for only a moment. A moment you would cherish forever.

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @fishingirl12 @houseofperfecttaste @abbybarnesstuff @carma-fanficaddict @jjmaybankisbae @exhaustedbutelated @diagnosedpsychosis @daivny @drewstarkeygf @vinniehackersbaee @emsgoodthinkin @apollo3475 @https-urwife @willowalexissss @kisstaya @hcneyedsstuff @lexiereblogs @drewsuncrustables

Comment if you want to be added to the tag list :))

[niennawept]

Could you do the kidnap fam longfic?

Anon, I am so sorry it took me this long to reply. Things picked up in my life in a way that I was not expecting - but even so, I apologize that I was this late!

This was sent in for my Not-Yet-Written ask game.

One thing that I think is consistently missing from the fandom at large's interpretation of the Kidnap Fam situation is the actual trauma that adoption causes IRL. It's something that most people probably don't know much about unless you're adopted yourself or are very close to an adoptee. Adoption in media has a tendency to ignore the whole scale of grey between a "good adoption" and "terrible adoption."

Two of my first degree relatives were adopted. One as an infant and the other as a ten year old. Both of them experienced trauma from it. Their adoptive parents were doing the best they could to support and care for them, but even in an "ideal" situation, adoption causes some problems with attachment and trust.

I just don't think that Kidnap Fam is even remotely close to an "ideal" situation. Not only are the "adopters" actually kidnappers who are directly responsible for the loss of their mom, they also probably aren't in a good frame of mind. Three Kinslayings, all their brothers dead, zero Silmarils to show for it, and the weight of the First Age on them - Maedhros and Maglor are in no fit state to become adoptive parents.

I don't think that Maglor and Maedhros were ever intentionally cruel to the twins, but one can hurt people without meaning to. I think Maedhros is too wrapped up in his own pain to be much of a help in supporting the boys (extensive headcanons about the difference in his reaction to Elurin and Elured's disappearence aside, even). In this fic, he'll be a supporting character whose relationship with them is a little haunted by the past. The boys rightly sense that he's not very stable and don't gravitate toward him for that reason. I think Maglor has lost whatever resilience he had in the past. He tells them things he shouldn't - things about the Oath, and his father; about the stress and the ostracization from the rest of the elves. All things that shouldn't be their burdens.

Partial bullet point fic below:

Elrond and Elros fight not to be taken. They are convinced that they'll be killed if they are. Their uncles were never found. They weren't supposed to know, but they overheard it.

When they are finally subdued, they refuse to eat. It goes on for far longer than it would for human children. They are afraid the food will be poisoned. Eventually, Maglor convinces them to watch the cook prepare their meals. They start to eat again.

Twins' world is smaller than it used to be. Narrowed to themselves, their tutors (such as they are- disgraced Feanorians all), and Maglor, who insists on dining with them each night - if only so he can be sure they eat one meal. He tries to get Maedhros to join them without much luck.

An uneasy truce develops. The twins are very careful never to say what they think. They hide their longing for their mother as much as six year olds can when they are out of their rooms.

Their captors are both fragile in different ways. They learn where those fractures are and carefully skirt around them.

Winter of the first year, Elros gets sick. A high fever, lungs full of mucus, horrible wracking cough. The elves know nothing about what to do. Elrond begs his brother not to leave him alone and the sound of that makes Maglor snap. He rides through a storm to get a human healer.

Elros pulls through and Elrond begs the woman to teach him what she knows of healing. Maedhros is against it, but Maglor defends Elrond's wish and ultimately wins.

It's the first time that Maglor starts to feel like a real person instead of a complete storybook villain to them. They stop trying to avoid him as much.

That's about as far as I've gotten in plotting this one. I mostly think about it when I accidentally run across some fluffier Kidnap Fam stuff. I do think that the "love grew between them" can and will happen in this fic, but it's got to be a slow build to that point, and there's a lot of fear and doubt anyway.

Sorry for being late and for writing something so long, anon. I hope that you see this.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for putting my child’s and mine responsibilities above all else?

To preface this - I (36M) am a ruler of a small kingdom. I have an amazing husband (34?NB), and together we have a wonderful daughter (13F). We raised her together, and I love my family incredibly so.

Some time ago, however (about 5 or so years) my husband left the country. Or, rather, the world - he’s from a different world altogether, and has a home there as well. (We met long ago as kids, when he was pulled into my world by a rogue wizard, and we had to literally stitch together pieces of my kingdom.) I didn’t mind at first - I’m well aware of how much my husband loves his home and how he loathes to separate from it for too long (not to mention his home world/planet seems to be a magnet for all things strange and dangerous, judging by his stories, and he’s more or less their last line of defense if anything were to happen to local king and his most loyal knight). So we had an arrangement - he would spend half a year in my kingdom, and half a year at his home in his dimension. So all was well.

Unfortunately, as you’d surely figure by now, he… didn’t come back.

Fearing the worst, and having no means to communicate between dimensions, of course, my first thought was to go search for him. (As powerful and tough as he is, he’s NOT invincible - one of his many adventures as a kid did nearly kill him.) But I cannot just abandon my kingdom - and my child - for my own selfish desires. So I had to instead continue upbringing our daughter alone.

Now, here’s where the issue lies. My husband and I absolutely doted on our girl, and he often would tell her stories about his old adventures - and his home world as well. His world, known as “the world of peace”, was so vivid in the imagination of our little girl, that she begged him to take her to see it one day. And my husband did promise her that, once she gets a little older. As you may guess, that promise was never fulfilled.

Over time, our girl grew restless. She offered me time and time again that if I cannot leave the kingdom, then she can go look for her father. To which I am solidly opposed. Not only that might put her, the sole heir to the throne, in danger, but I risk losing the last member of my family. (Which I… kind of have a history with - I never knew my father, and my mother left me and abdicated the throne when I was very young.)

Our arguments grew more and more heated, until eventually, I snapped and forbade her to even think about leaving - she’s a princess and is supposed to learn and prepare to eventually become the next ruler in our threadline. This argument was the last time I saw my daughter, because the next morning she disappeared without a trace.

The reason I’m writing this is such: I’ve managed to locate my husband. He and his close friends had formed a rescue party since our daughter (and my husband’s adopted child - which I’m hearing of for the first time) somehow ended up kidnapped. I’ve joined this rescue party, and we had to venture to yet another parallel world (this is a long and mostly unrelated to the issue story). During some downtime, my husband and I had a somewhat strained conversation about our daughter, his disappearance and her escape. He does admit, that he should’ve let us know he’s alright sooner (turns out, he was taking care of said adopted child, and he didn’t quite plan on staying for this long), but he also pointed out that I’m being too harsh on our daughter - and I might be the reason she ran away. I tried to refute his arguments, but the doubt lingers.

Do you suppose he might be correct? Am I really too strict and should remember that she’s only a kid? My husband is nowhere near royalty, so he doesn’t quite understand all the responsibilities, but even from a position of a father my worry wouldn’t let our girl go alone.

[dairy-farmer]

So here I am, feel free to ignore if I'm breaking any boundaries.

 Your story actually made me think of Tim’s process through the trauma and mainly how he processes most adult things. I do like soft, hurt, self-sacrificing Tim like any hot, red blooded fan, of course.

But let me argue that Tim Drake is not a child child, he has been his own responsible adult since he was six. He learned budgeting and bills and taxes and stranger danger and all the things adults eventually teach children from TV/the internet and he is not ashamed of it.

Kinda that when Jack and Janet left him alone with a housekeepr, he basically parentified himself.

So in comes the 12/13 year old who sees Batman tiptoeing the edge and goes: I can fix this dude so hard!

And yeah, Bruce is almost lost to his grief and barely conscious of the utter shitshow around him, “sure, whatever kid, be Robin, but train with other adults, I’m too broken hearted to adult right now. Oh, you learned from Alfred and Dick, great, Imma teach you and oh, you disappeared for a while, huh, you got even better, I wonder what you did, well whatever let’s go on patrol.”

And years pass, Bruce heals, he gets his family back, he gains allies and perspective.

And maybe one day he is high as a kite on some scarecrow or ivy drug or whatever, he beat the villain, he did the justice, weee~

And he realizes he is home and Tim’s tiny hand is pulling hin towards the bathroom and he is confused.

Tim, on the other hand, is so used to Bruce’s shit, that he simply taps him on the back of the knees to make him kneel by the toilet bowl and goes: “Okay, you feel up to puking on your own or should I make you?”

And Bruce is even more confused because his children usually weren’t like this, they were soft and depended on his stability, none of his children should see him this vulnerable.

And maybe he takes a little too long to reply because suddenly Tim is shoving two fingers down his throat while holding the back of his head and suddenly Bruce is vomiting and Tim pats his heaving back and makes sure none of it goes in his  hair while TSKING because “Really Bruce? Don’t be a baby, my hand can’t hurt that much, I’m like 13.”

And Bruce, for once, realizes he is not the parent in this relationship and he is not sure how it happened.

You can extrapolate Bruce Mommy/Daddy-issues Wayne would definitely fall for that scarily inteligent teen that has become his highly unimpressed new mommy if you like.

Or he simply tries (and fails) to parent this child who somehow doesn’t need him like Dick and Jason and Damian ever did and he is frightened that if Tim doesn’t need him he will leave.

Which is why Tim gets more benefits than Dick and Jason ever did at his age COMBINED.

A car? You got it.

A Ducatti? Red, black or both?

Your own team instead of integrating you to Dick’s? SURE THING!

It is quite telling that even if Dick is Bruce’s oldest adopted child and the one he is trusting the mission to, TIM is the one who is supposed to inherit the company and thus Batman’s biggest source of income and Bruce’s charity and social justice pet projects in case of Bruce’s death.

________________________________________________________________

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i just read the comment you left on ‘here cometh the iceman’ and i cannot tell you how happy i was to be greeted by this in my inbox!!!!!!! 😍 😍 😍 😍 😍 😍!!!!

i love your tim HC so much because it reallly does align with how he behaves so often! tim is a child who has, often, had to parent himself. in the comics it’s implied that the majority of his developmental years in school were spent in boarding schools where his only supervisors were teachers and the few adults whose job were to look out for them. but even then tim would’ve had to learn how to deal with a lot of things himself- he had to put himself to bed, decide what and how to regulate his diet, how to deal with interpersonal issues along with any tension that came with living with another kid his age. tim is essentially a young adult in a child’s body. and to contrast that is bruce. who arguably, while he is an adult, lacks a lot of the landmark developmental milestones that tim has already had (through no choice of his own). 

bruce has alfred as a kind of crutch so many of the “adult” things tim experienced were things he never learned or developed the skills for. hence why when they came together, tim who was the more responsible, mature, and developed “adult” took care of bruce. it’s such an upside down pineapple situation where bruce is the grown up but the child and tim is the child but the grown up. so tim caring for bruce like when he gets poisoned and needs to vomit, tim treats him like a child who has swallowed something he wasn’t supposed to. he falls into caring for bruce like it’s a routine and bruce is struck with the realization of what had been happening while his head was buried in the sand from his grief.

bruce has sooo many hangups about his parents and their deaths, his relationship with them has guided so much of his life and how he expresses (or doesn’t express) his love. alfred had cared for and loved him but always maintained him an arm’s length away perhaos out of respect for bruce and the relationship he had with his parents. but tim! tim treats him in that soft way his mother did, taking a rag and dabbing away the sweat from his brow when bruce starts sweating buckets after vomiting. so many things tim does for him reminds bruce so starkly of his mother and father and it kind of makes him uncomfortable but that feeling gets trampled by and is the reason he never puts a stop to it - he likes it. he likes being doted on and cared for, he like that tim feeds him warm broths, oatmeals, and chicken soup. he likes that tim presses featherlight kisses to his scrapes and cleaned wounds. with tim there’s no expectation of him to make the first move, be responsible, or be the parent. not like there was with jason or dick.

but there’s also the fact that bruce no longer offers something to tim. safety, protection, etc. the things you expect from a parent. tim doesn’t want them, in fact he’s the one who provides them because bruce startles awake from a bad dream and tim is already there to comfort him.

bruce attempting to become the parent in their dynamic similarly failing leaves him scrambling and leaves him scared about the fact that tim could leave him.

this fundamentally changing their dynamic is so good!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! its why tim gets more leeway than the others, why he’s treated differently and “allowed” so much independence. i think if jason and dick weren’t so preoccupied with their own lives and issues they might stop and be like “hey wtfff”.

tim and bruce’s relationship and dynamic is one of the most fascinating to me because the two of them are mirrors, foils, and almost caricatures of each other in some cases. the two of them share so much in common but are also fundamentally different people. if tim had been in bruce’s shoes from birth he would’ve likely followed the same path but been different. same with bruce. if he had been the little idealistic boy whose parents more or less neglected him, he would’ve followed the same path as tim had but been....different. the two of them are such good characters, their shared history and dynamic is fascinating and thank you so much for this really good deep dive into their character and relationship!!!!!!! it’s so good!!!!!!!!!!!!

[savvythepirate]

Dancing with the devil

Pairing: Hector Barbossa x reader

Warnings: None

Requested by: @personlovinganime

The Request:

Hey hello! Recently, an idea came to my mind, and I would like to ask you if it is not difficult for you. Let's say Barbossa and the crew stop at Tortuga to rest, and he and Y/N go to a tavern where they both barely drink. Other sailors started approaching Y/N, complimenting and urging them to dance. Barbossa is wildly jealous, and, unable to stand it himself, pulls T / N to dances, where he kisses, confessing his feelings.

***

Barbossa knew the silent jealousy and rage emotions have been held in for far too long now.

The thing was, he liked you from the beginning and wanted something more then just friendship from you, he wanted you to become his so that you’re always by his side. It’s been well over two years since you basically signed up to sail with his crew for the rest of your days. You were very shy at first, when you meet someone new, you only gave short responses to the questions that could be answered in the most simple way.

It’s been about a year and a half later when you begin to realize the feelings gaining within you for Barbossa. You were his friend and just the same, you wanted more then just a friendship kind of relations. The shyness wasn’t what kept you from admitting your feelings, it was the fear of being rejected as well. As you were now finding yourself looking out to the seas in front of you, you were pleased to learn when the announcement delivered upon the crew of your next stop being Tortuga. The crew worked hard and it has been quite sometime now since the last time everyone was given a break, been given rest they would need for the next sail on the seas. The second you walked inside, you headed straight to the counter to order yourself a drink while some of the others either joined you, or went right for the dance floor. Looking around, you notice that there were only a few of the crew mates decided to join you, and one of those crew mates was Barbossa.

From the look on his face, he looked bored and that had given you the idea to go down and take the empty spot next to him, to keep him company. But just as before, you backed out as shyness took over and you couldn’t help but feel your face flush a light shade of pink as you look away quickly. Although Barbossa seemed to not have notice of you staring down at him, he knew. Just when you believed he wasn’t looking, you made it a habit at times to stare into his soul. One of the many things Barbossa was good at was hiding feelings and use things as a front for it, to seem less suspicious. But he couldn’t fool you, you were on the edge of suspension. You flinched a little when the sound of your drink was being placed in front of you a little too loudly without warning. Instead of an apology, you get their usual saying, a poor excuse used for a sensible act.

“Order up!”

“Thanks.”

It was the sound of your voice that made Barbossa look over at you, a little curious to know why your voice suddenly seemed to be on edge as if something bad was about to happen. Nothing happened, not to you at least, it was more towards him.

Crew mates, as much as they can, approached you with an invitation to dance with them. Of course, you deny saying you just weren’t a dancer and didn’t have any interests in even trying it out. Which is partly the truth, you literally had no desire to dance with anyone, at first you didn’t. While Barbossa continues to sit there and watch as each of his men approached you, he felt like his chances with you are slipping and that you would eventually agree fo dance anytime now if he doesn’t do something about it. What he does is next wasn’t just done for his own sake, but it was done for you as well, this was going to be the moment of confessions. The next crew mate, was the last one to approach with the same invitation and once again, you denied. The reaction you got from him was completely shocking and wasn’t something you or anyone else for that matter, had seen coming. Barbossa had enough watching you getting unwanted attention and made his way to you.

“Would you like to dance with me?” The crew mate asked.

“That’s very sweet of you, but I’m not interested. Sorry.”

“Well that’s just fine because I wouldn’t want to dance with a bitch like you, anyway.”

Barbossa approached you out of the blue, pushing you behind him before letting this mate have it.

“I believe (Y/n) said she didn’t want to dance with you, and if she doesn’t want to, she doesn’t have to. You need to watch what you say or I’ll have you illuminated from the crew, am I clear?!”

Barbossa was seething, he was livid, his most recent command was said in such a way that would scare anyone daring to put their hands or words on you like that away.

The mate’s face had gone white and rather then a verbal response, he nods and quickly walks away. Once he was out of sight, Barbossa turns back to you, looking you over to make sure you were okay. After seeing that you were, Barbossa doesn’t say anything but offers his hand out to you. He was asking you to go off and dance with him, though you still didn’t have the desire, you couldn’t say no after witnessing the scene of him defending you to basically the ends of the earth. Taking hold of his outstretched hand, you allow Barbossa to pull you along with him to the dance floor of the bar. No one stopped, no one moved, no one did anything to acknowledge you both as you started dancing away. What comes next was nearly blindsiding you, and at first you thought he might be a little bit tipsy just as much as you. The truth was that he wasn’t as tipsy as much as he made himself to be.

You felt his hands grip your waist before pulling you in for the kiss. As shy as you may be, you happily return the kiss before feeling the need to pull away for air. When you do pull apart from each other, that’s when Barbossa makes his confession, soon to be followed by your own confession.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” He apologizes.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s really okay. You know I would have pushed you away if I thought it wasn’t right.”

Hearing you say that had his heart skip a beat, it was what broke the dam of emotions he held in for all this time. Hearing this coming from you, helped him to allow his self confidence to grow.

Finally, after letting out all he had, it was what broke his silence. Looking back, he didn’t realize how wildly jealous he would get just by seeing you talking to another mate, causing Barbossa to immediately jump to conclusions instead of finding out if any were legit. You listen intently as Barbossa reveals how he truly feels about you and that he understood if you didn’t feel the same way. Much to his delight, you did, and after spilling out your confessions, he felt like a kid on Christmas morning. That’s where the next chapter of your life starts, and you couldn’t be happier.

Barbossa is the happiest as he ever has been, he’s finally where he needs to be.

With you.

***

Requests: OPEN

@savvythepirate

Tags: @princessofthornsandroses @justafairytailofinnocence

[noteguk]

bad attitude | jjk | m

[ ! ] this is part of the bad influence collection. You can read it as a stand-alone though! 

— summary; in which Jungkook finally learns how to behave. Kind of. 

— contents and warnings; pwp, smut, badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, enemies with benefits/enemies to lovers, brattysub!kook x dom!reader, actually more of a switch!kook/switch!reader, the oc is kind of a demon with teasing because payback is a bitch, bondage, edging, dirty talk, begging, oral (m receiving), female masturbation, cockwarming, unprotected sex (don’t be dumb), creampie, stuffing, Taehyung makes a cameo, terrible use of the two wolves meme I’m so sorry 

— words; 7,2k 

— author’s note; yes I started this with a meme and no I’m not okay. This is kind of chaotic tbh but I wanted to write something a bit more unhinged and lighthearted after all that drama from the third part of the series. This happens some time after bad reputation. 

Also! Take a look at the text messages that brought them to this moment ;) 

Probably one of the dumbest things that Jungkook had ever heard came from his roommate and childhood friend, Taehyung, after a few hours scrolling through Facebook with a blunt hanging from the corner of his lips. Taehyung was in the deep web equivalent of social media: entrepreneur pages, where young, overly-dressed men with obviously rented convertibles promised to teach gullible people how to become millionaires by working at home (if you only pay for their courses). Nevertheless, what started as an ironic scroll through shallow motivational quotes quickly escalated into a semi-believable, mostly high rant about the importance of controlling your inner demons, which Jungkook sadly had to endure, since he was the only person around and, therefore, his roommate's sole target. 

Taehyung was high out of his mind, but it seemed as if he would be the last to get that memo: in his twisted conception, he was spilling the hottest of truths (and not the incoherent ramble that it really was). Fighting through Jungkook’s complaints and eye rolls, he simply went on and on about how the page “Alpha Billionaire 101” wasn’t really that off beat when they said that you do, in fact, have two wolves inside you — and the one you feed is the one that wins. Jungkook was basically disassociating by the point that Taehyung started drawing some graphs, looking fixedly at the two wolves on the screen of his computer (one written “success and drive” and the other one representing “failure and procrastination”) and wishing that the gods above would strike him down once and for all. 

And why is that important? Well, because eventually Taehyung fell asleep and moved on with his life, only casually mentioning the other stuff he saw on that page, but his words stuck around, glued to the back of Jungkook’s head. Not because they held any sort of meaning, but because the wolf metaphor was just too stupid to forget. And that eventually caught up to Jungkook in the strangest, most unexpected of ways: with you and bondage being involved. 

Now, Jungkook had two wolves inside of him: one was extremely laid back and barely cared about most things that happened, as long as he was having a good time. The second wolf was a bitter, prideful, egocentric, mean little thing that simply wouldn’t fold no matter how much the world wanted it to. And it was that second wolf that took him to that position: because Jungkook told you that he was positive, certain, a hundred percent sure that he’d never be like you and beg for something during sex. 

Which made both of your wolves absolutely pissed. 

“What the fuck…” he mumbled, looking up at your agile hands moving like wasps around his wrists. The room was dark, barely illuminated by the moonlight that came from the window, but that wasn’t really the reason why his pupils were so blown-out. “Where did you learn to tie knots like this?” 

You smiled, giving a last pull on the ropes to make sure they would stay still. Jungkook had been elated when you finally told him that you’d be willing to try it out bondage. One thing he didn’t expect, though, was that he would be the one getting tied up. “I was in the Girl Scouts,” you told him, sitting back against his thighs. 

Jungkook scoffed, tugging at the ropes. They weren’t too tight, yet they burned his skin a bit — not an unwelcome feeling, but his mind wasn’t too focused on it. He had to live up to his own words. “Of course you were in the fucking Girl Scouts.” He rolled his eyes. “So, how long is this gonna take?”

His gaze followed as your hands unclasped your bra. Jungkook, who had already been stripped down to his boxers, could barely disguise the twitching of his eyebrows when your breasts finally came into view. The bra collapsed somewhere on the floor. “Depends on how long it takes for you to say it,” you reminded him. 

Jungkook shifted around, gaze following the rise and fall of your chest. His hands struggled against the ropes, aching to touch your breasts, and you could notice the frustration blossoming at the back of his throat when he spoke up. “I’m not gonna say it.” 

With a pout, you leaned back in, placing your hands on his broad chest for leverage. “Then it’s probably going to take a long time.” You blinked up at him, and there was a devilish glint in your eyes that he didn’t remember seeing before. He was doomed. “Comfortable?”

“Not at all,” he complained. 

The smile you gifted him made his knees weak for a second. “Perfect.” Your hands traveled to the back of his neck, fingers playing with his hair and eyes zeroing in on his mouth. “Now, be good and kiss me like you mean it, okay?” 

Be good? 

Jungkook didn’t get any time to digest your words before your mouth was pressing against his, enveloping him in your warmth — and suddenly he didn’t want to think about anything else. How could he? When you had your hands caressing his neck, with a soft sigh against his lips, there was nothing else in the world that could rob his attention. 

In the end, past his brooding, unshakable persona, Jungkook was still a weak man when it came to you, he really was. It had become a natural, well-rehearsed reaction of his to explore your mouth with his tongue at every chance that he got; your lips slapping together as he groaned against you. The skin of his wrists was tingling, pressing hard against the ropes that held his hands back from exploring your body; from pulling you closer like he wanted to. Instead, he was at your mercy, following your own pace as you leaned your head to the side, fingers tugging on his hair as you sighed happily into the kiss. 

It was exactly the way he liked: sensual, slow, messy; made his head spin when you rolled your clothed center on his erection before sucking on his tongue. Jungkook was sure that you were doing all that on purpose, riling him up as much as possible before finally touching him where he needed so much, and that was definitely going to be a problem. 

In the back of his head, Jungkook was currently trying to decide if he hated Taehyung or not: the fact that his roommate had compulsively chosen to attend a party three hours away was the reason that you were there, kissing him like he was the air that you breathed, but also the reason why Jungkook had gotten tied up in the first place. If he had had a bit more time between texting you that he would never beg in sex (a very dumb, very unthought action), and the moment that you actually tried to make it happen, perhaps he would be able to convince you to step down from it. Perhaps he would realize that his prideful side was also really, really fucking stupid when it came to predicting his own limits. 

Truth was: Jungkook was pretty much panicking when you moaned against his lips, because his cock was unbearably hard inside his underwear and he just knew that he would fold after some time. Especially when you were acting like that, like a demon trying to seduce him into selling his soul; a siren about to drag him to the abyssal depths of the ocean. He could barely follow what was happening. 

Because of his dominating tendencies, Jungkook had never seen you showing your typical neurotic, controlling self during your sexual adventures — which was something he endlessly teased you for, but never thought it would actually have any sort of backlash. It seemed that both of you liked the usual dynamic (of Jungkook taking over) well enough and, yet, as he watched that sadistic expression monopolizing your features, he realized that maybe it was for the best. Maybe you had been training your whole life to perfect the masterful art of having things happening the way you wanted it, and maybe giving you the lead was one of the worst decisions he had made in some time. 

As you pulled away, Jungkook chased after your mouth, managing to place another small kiss on your lips before the ropes held him back. “More,” he groaned. 

The curve of your mouth was a wicked little thing, almost making him lose his composure for a second. “No, no more,” you were firm in your words. “Be patient.” 

He huffed. “You only got an attitude because my hands are tied up.”

“I always have an attitude,” you were fast to correct, getting out of his lap. The lack of your warmth was instantly felt, made his chest heave in frustration as you sat down next to him. There was an embarrassingly large wet spot on his underwear that he was hoping you wouldn’t notice. “But, yeah, maybe I’m a little braver because of it.” Before he could muster up a response, one of your hands traveled between his thighs, faintly tracing its way up his skin. “And what are you going to do about it?” 

Jungkook clenched his jaw — it was embarrassing how sensitive he was, goosebumps spreading through his legs. “Don’t tease."

“Or what?” A squeeze of his bulge was everything you need to make him shut up, his hips buckling up to meet your palm. Jungkook was hard and leaking, pulsating as you gave him a few, half-assed pumps through his underwear. A few seconds were more than enough to let him have his fun, it seemed, because you were soon removing your hand from his erection. “Now, stay still unless you want me to tie your feet too.” 

He hissed at the lack of contact, but refused to complain about it out loud. You smiled at his reaction: Jungkook was so stubborn when it came to things like that, would never show you his weak, needy side so easily. But you were patient and, from what you had been told, you had all night to get your way. 

Call it revenge, call it whatever: there was nothing that you wanted more than to see Jungkook bite back his own words and beg for you. It was an ego thing, perhaps, the mission to leave him just as overwhelmed and desperate as he had made you so many times in the past. Maybe you were a bit mean about it. But it was well deserved. 

You took your time pulling one of his legs towards you, watching as his cock throbbed when you placed your body between his thighs. Jungkook could only think about how soft your mouth felt as you kissed up his thigh before, at last, you were nuzzling your face against his erection, placing kisses on his clothed member as your thumb pressed down on his sensitive tip. His breath grew irregular at the feeling, his tongue poking out to wet his lips as you looked up at him with that demonic smirk of yours, those big doe eyes that wiped his thoughts clean. Jungkook was absolutely fucked. 

Luckily, he didn’t have to urge you further because, soon enough, you were pulling his underwear down, making it join your bra on his bedroom floor. Jungkook could’ve cried when you rolled your thumb over his crown, spreading his precum all over him, a delighted hum dripping past your throat. “You’re leaking,” you commented, eyes following the glistening of his reddened tip. He could only muster a raggedy, short sigh before you were talking again. “I can clean you up, don’t worry.” 

Jungkook moaned out when you wrapped your lips around his cock, not hesitating much before you sank down on him. His head fell back when you started sucking, your cheeks hollowing out and tongue pressed flat against him. “God, your mouth feels so fucking perfect.” His hips thrusted up, but you had enough of a reflex to pull away before he managed to hit the back of your throat. “Take it deeper, baby, do it for me.”

But you did the opposite, removing him from your mouth. You glanced up at him with a disinterested look plastered all over your face, lips glossy with a beautiful mixture of your saliva and his wetness. Jungkook made a mental note to never forget that sight. “I don’t know if you understand what’s going on here, Jungkook.” You wrapped one hand around his cock, pumping it twice. It felt good, but nothing compared to your mouth. “But it’s really not your place to tell me what to do right now. That’s not how it works.” 

“Yeah?” He chuckled, eyebrows raised in a silent dare. “And what are you going to do about it?” 

Poor decisions: Jungkook’s week was filled with poor decisions. Blame that unshakable arrogant side of his, blame his terribly constructed defense mechanisms; blame whatever it was that didn’t allow him to think clearly when you were so beautifully placed between his legs, but it seemed that he really thought it would be a good call to provoke you when you were already 1) deadset on making him embarrass himself 2) probably the best Girl Scout to ever tie a knot in history. 

Jungkook was completely helpless: he knew that, you knew that. So the reason why he mocked you in such a position would forever be another mystery that science could never answer. 

And the payback arrived soon enough. Jungkook only earned a few seconds of relaxation, staring at your impassive face, before your mouth was sinking back down around his member. 

If Jungkook thought that you were teasing him before, now you were sucking him like you wanted him to cum in two seconds — hands pumping his length, playing with his balls, tip hitting your throat, tongue dragging against his slit: the four horsemen of your apocalyptic blowjob technique that got him seeing stars in no time. “Fuck, that’s my girl,” he moaned. He was sure his wrists would be all red in the following morning from the way he was mindlessly moving his arms around, his mind just so hyper-focused on the need to touch you, to pull your hair when you were wrapping around his cock so well. “Feels so fucking perfect.” 

Then, as he was just about to tip over, you pulled away. 

“No, what the fuck,” Jungkook’s eyes snapped open, still unfocused and glazed-over. His body flinched at the interruption of his pleasure, and his cock throbbing against his pelvis, angry for attention. “Fuck, why did you stop?”

“That’s what I’m going to do about it.” You smiled, and Jungkook noticed that he was really playing a very dangerous game. In a span of two seconds, he asked himself if he was that mean to you, realized that he probably was, and came to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t change anything about it. “Are you going to behave now, Jungkook?” 

He groaned, fighting against the frustrated waves that overtook his body. His orgasm, before so close, had now been washed away, leaving him with a pulsating feeling inside his guts. “You’re pissing me off.”

“Likewise.” You tilted your head to the side, placing one hand on his thigh. “Now, stay still and do what I tell you to do. That’s the last time I’m asking.” 

He frowned. “Or what?”

You blinked, pausing for a second. “Isn’t it obvious? Or I’m leaving you like this.” 

Jungkook’s brain finally seemed to comprehend the fact that, sometimes, it’s better to keep your mouth shut. So, instead of saying something, he simply watched as you removed your underwear before sitting between his legs, your thighs over his. 

Because you absolutely hated him, you had opened your legs wide, pussy on full display, as you used one hand to lean back against the mattress. His eyes almost jumped out of their sockets when you used two fingers to spread your folds apart. “Look,” you said, your breathy voice making something inside his chest switch. “I’m so wet.” 

And wet you were. Jungkook exhaled, nostrils flaring. His mouth salivated at the thought of licking you clean, fingers growing white around the ropes. He never hated an object so hard in his life. “I can… I can see that.” 

You giggled at the grogginess of his tone, dove into the satisfaction that came from his focused eyes on your soaked folds. A gentle suspire left you as your digits slipped up, covering your clit with your arousal before pressing down on it. You were acting up a bit, whining loudly at the feeling because you knew that it drove him crazy to hear you make sounds for him. “Jungkook…” you trailed off. You had to bite back a laugh when his stare snapped up at you, looking so overwhelmingly horny and pissed off at the same time — the duality of men. “Want to have you inside me.” 

He exhaled heavily. “Do it,” he said and you allowed him to think that it was his order (and not your decision) that made you move. 

Jungkook’s pupils were blown out in sheer desire, wanting to absorb every light that bounced off your soft skin when you lined yourself with his cock, covering his tip with your warm wetness, allowing it to rub between your folds. By the time that you sat down on him, he was dangerously close to cracking. 

“Oh fuck.” His hips thrusted up, wanting to feel more of your tight walls around him. It was heaven and hell, just the way he loved it, but his delight wouldn’t last long. “Fuck, baby, that feels so good.”

“It does,” you agreed, but there was a teasing inflection in your tone that he did not miss. Soon, your fingers were back where they were before, circling your clit. “And I happen to know how to make it even better. For myself, at least.” 

It took him a few moments to understand what was going on, but, once it clicked inside his head, he could’ve cried from frustration. “What are you doing?”

“Getting myself off.” You smiled — oh you were such a fucking demon, he thought, a trickster spirit that wouldn’t rest until he was begging you to let him cum. Worst part? He might as well do it. “You don’t mind, do you? I know you love to keep your cock inside me like this.” 

They say that revenge is sweet and, as you saw the flash of desperation that crossed Jungkook’s face, you couldn’t agree more. “Aren’t… aren’t you going to move?” He tried. 

You could tell that he was holding back from just thrusting up inside you, which was equally satisfying and arousing: maybe, just maybe, he was starting to learn one thing or two about following your orders. “Hmmm… not at all.” You smirked, a tiny gasp leaving your lips as you circled your sensitive spot just the right way. Jungkook followed the movement of your lips as if they were writing the secrets of the universe. “Not if you keep that attitude up.” 

He frowned, the corners of his mouth twitching in frustration. From your peripheral vision, you could see his wrists vaguely struggling against your knots — humbly speaking, you were a great Girl Scout, the typical overachiever, and you were positive that they would hold up. 

“You’re going to regret this later,” Jungkook warned, but his words didn’t even have the chance to affect you. One clenching of your walls around him was all that it took for his head to roll back, a deep grunt dripping from his mouth at the sensation. It was just enough to keep him dangling over the edge, but not even close to making him cum. “Your pussy is so fucking tight, baby. Feels so fucking good.”

“I’m almost there, that’s why.” Your other hand slithered up your waist, cupping one of your breasts. Being a bit more theatrical than necessary (because you wanted to provoke him as much as you could), you gasped out his name as you rolled one nipple between your fingers, arching your back at the sensation. You swore you saw Jungkook’s eye twitch. “Gonna cum just like this. And you’re gonna be good and watch me.” 

Again with that be good bullshit, again not giving him enough time to process it before you were timidly rolling your hips. “Baby,” he gasped. “This isn’t fair.” 

“It isn’t,” you agreed, slightly breathless, your hand moving to play with your other breast. Jungkook followed the action like every part of you was magnetic, calling for his attention. “You do that to me all the time, though.” 

He frowned. “But I let you fucking touch me.” 

“How nice of you,” you sarcastically remarked. Another small roll of your hips made you gasp, fingers working faster around your clit. Teasing Jungkook got you shamefully turned on, it seemed, because you were just about to tip over the edge. “Fuck, feels so good.” 

“It would feel so much better if you just— God, you’re so fucking wet,” his mind was barely functioning at that point, the heavenly feeling of your walls clenching around him was making him go insane. “Just ride my cock, baby.” 

“No,” that simple word was like an arrow, shooting all his hopes down. Jungkook closed his eyes and threw his head back, trying to fight against the claustrophobic nature of his position. There was no way he could hold himself back, he thought, he would beg you as many times as he needed it that was what it took for him to finally cum. “I’m close, Kook.” 

That whimpery, needy tone of yours would be the death of him one of those days. “I can fucking feel it,” he cursed. Jungkook just wanted to thrust inside your dripping pussy, make you cream his cock like you were made for it, but he knew that you would just stop everything again if he did so, and he seriously didn’t think he could take that. “S-Shit, baby, you don’t know what you’re doing to me.” 

But you had a good idea of how you were affecting him. Through parted lids, you watched as his face contorted in pleasure when you squeezed particularly tightly around him; a muffled sob perishing on his throat when you vaguely raised your hips. Jungkook was filling you up so perfectly, like he always did, and it was that amazing stretch of his cock inside you, combined with the clear hunger that covered his features, that pulled your climax towards you. 

The orgasm that washed over you was abrupt, overbearing, just blinding enough so you didn’t notice the weak little moans that Jungkook let out at the throbbing of your walls around his aching length. You tried to prolong it for as long as possible, rubbing yourself, crying out his name for theatrical reasons, but eventually sensitivity got the best of you and you stopped. 

What you found when you did, however, was a glorious sight. Jungkook was a perfect picture of lust and desperation, his chest rising and falling rapidly and eyes locked on where your two bodies joined. There was a thin coat of sweat all over his skin, the small sound of the  ropes pulling on the headboard. When he noticed you were staring, he found your gaze. “I- I stood still,” he said. 

“I know, you did so good.” You placed one hand on his cheek, leveling your face with his so you could kiss him. Jungkook melted under your touch, a deep sigh leaving his mouth as you pulled away, his cock still deep inside you. “I’m proud of you.” 

As if something had magically changed, Jungkook tried to fight against his immobilized hands, only to find out that he was still unable to free himself. “Wanna touch you so bad, baby. You look so fucking hot sitting on my cock like this.” Jungkook was spoiled, you realized, because it didn’t take him two seconds of good behavior to revert back to what he wanted to happen. It was a terrible habit, you realized, one that you probably helped enable. “Fuck, just let me cum, baby. Take these off and I’ll fuck you just the way you like it.” 

And maybe if you weren’t so high up in your power rush, you would’ve at least considered his offer. However, having Jungkook turned into a pliant mess beneath you was worth more than anything else at that moment. “I’ll think about it if you say the magic word.”

He frowned, his charm melting away. Jungkook was so adamant on having it his way that it bordered on a joke. “Not gonna do it.” 

You kissed him once again before speaking up. “Then we don’t have a deal.” You shook your head, moving away from him. Jungkook searched after your mouth, but your stupid Girl Scouts knots didn’t allow him to go much further. He collapsed back against the headboard with a frustrated groan. “You’re a terrible sub.”

“Maybe because I’m not a fucking sub— Shit.” All his thoughts were wiped clean when you slowly raised your hips, only leaving his engorged tip inside, before, finally, sitting back down. The drag of your velvety walls against his sensitive cock was driving Jungkook up the wall, his tied-up wrists mindlessly knocking against each other. “Fuck. I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” You pouted, repeating the movement. You watched as his jaw clenched, a sharp exhale leaving his nostrils as Jungkook both fought against and searched for his pleasure. “Sure you don’t wanna say it?” 

A deliciously slow roll of your hips got him gasping out. “I’m not gonna — fuck — not gonna say it.” 

You leaned your head to the side, stopping your movements. Jungkook’s abdomen was caving in with every small brush of your pussy around him, the illumination from the streets making the drops of sweat on his skin look like small diamonds. It was an erotic sight, from the falling of his dark hair over his hooded eyes, to the beautiful inked drawings on his arms. Unfortunately, you had other things to do other than to admire him endlessly. 

With a sigh, you got up from his lap. “Too bad.”

“Baby,” Jungkook whined — actually whined —  when he felt his cock slip out of your perfect heat, collapsing against his abdomen. The sensation got him flinching, made him bite his lip for a second in an attempt to compose himself. “Baby, don’t leave me like this, come on.”

You frowned, faking annoyance. “How can I not leave you like this, Jungkook?” Your palms slithered around his shoulders, pulling your body closer to his. “You’re being horrible right now.” 

“S-Sorry.” His breath caught in his throat when your mouth met the skin of his neck, tongue prodding out to lick a small trail up his skin. Your heat was unbearable, suffocating him and drowning out his thoughts to the point that he had really apologized for his poor demeanor. If your predictions were correct, it wouldn’t take long before he folded the way you wanted him to. “Just, come on, you can’t just— I’m just so hard right now.” 

You giggled, fingertips moving down on his chest until you found what you were looking for. “Aw. Poor thing,” you teased, feeling as he grew stiff when you started to play with his nipples. A few weeks back, you had made the wonderful and unexpected discovery that Jungkook was really sensitive there, but you never really had a chance to explore that side of him before he flipped you over and had you his way. But the universe always searched for balance, and that moment was the karmic payback you were looking for. “What’s the problem, Kook?” 

“Wanna cum.” He winced away from your faint caresses, but he really didn’t have anywhere else to go. A smirk curled up on your lips as you watched Jungkook fight against the knots, a frail, airy moan leaving his chest as you rolled his nipples between your fingers. He sounded so perfect: so needy and desperate that you could feel another gush of arousal accumulating between your folds. “Just wanna cum so bad, baby.” 

“I’m not gonna be mean and hold it off,” you told him, moving back so you could place a kiss against his pouty, swollen lips. Jungkook looked so beautifully messy, so on edge, that you almost cried out at the sight of it. “You just have to say it,” you told him, lowering your hips until you were straddling his cock. 

With a roll of your pussy against him, his cock brushed between your wet folds, tearing a broken sob from his throat. “Fuck,” Jungkook cursed. He was never in a position like that: edged for so long that he couldn’t even control the grunts that left his throat. “You’re so fucking evil.”

“You love it.” Another grind of your pussy had him throwing his head back, a loud moan ripping itself from his heaving chest. Jungkook was sensitive, responsive to the tiniest of your touches and, most of all: he was desperate, seconds away from cracking. “You know, if you say it, I’ll let you cum.” 

His cock throbbed against you when you finally stopped your movements, raising your hips so your center moved away from his. Jungkook complained at the lack of sensation, practically on the limit of throwing a tantrum, and his pelvis mindlessly buckling up in search of your warmth. Instead, he found nothing, and his member simply collapsed back against his abdomen, aching for its release. 

“This— This is torture,” he groaned. You giggled at his distress, taking one hand to brush away the sweaty hair from his forehead. Jungkook leaned into your touch. “Please, baby, just fuck me.”

Your ears perked up at that, a pool of arousal starting to grow between your legs. That sounded even better than you had predicted. “Sorry, what was that?” You teased. 

Jungkook closed his eyes, clenching his jaw. “Don’t make me say it again.” 

Slowly, you lowered your hips again, pressing your pussy against his cock. Jungkook reacted instantly, taking in a sharp inhale. “Didn’t hear you,” you said. 

“God, baby, just fuck me, please,” he finally broke down, his dazed-out gaze seemed to have some trouble focusing on your face. Desperation was plastered all over him, staring at you like a beautiful, shimmering trophy. “Please, just let me cum. Please.” 

You hummed, leaning away so you could sit on his thighs, facing his erection. You were a woman of your word: you said you wouldn’t hold it back, and you wouldn’t. “Since you asked so nicely…” you trailed off, one hand wrapping around his base, pumping him a few times. Jungkook throbbed in your hands, his abdomen sinking as your thumb grazed his sensitive crown. “Where do you wanna cum?” 

It looked like you had truly broken the poor boy down because, for the first time in his life, Jungkook didn’t have any idea on how to answer that question. “I- I don’t know,” he struggled to speak when your hand was still caressing his member: just enough for him to feel something, but too slow and light for him to actually cum. “Anywhere. Just wanna cum.” 

You pouted, letting his cock go. It bounced on his pelvis, tore a painful cry from his throat as he felt his pleasure wash away once again. “I need an answer, Kook.” 

And he said the first thing that came into his mind. “Your pussy, baby, please.” 

A smile tugged on your lips — it seemed as if that word wasn’t so hard to say anymore. “Of course, you’ve been so good.” You moved around until you were sinking down on him, feeling that fantastic stretch all over again, and earning a shaky moan from his part. You only spoke up again after you were sure he couldn’t go any deeper. “Kook?” You called. His pleading eyes shot up at you. “Wanna fuck me?” 

He breathed out, just a tremulous gush of air that he could barely get ahold of. “Y-Yes, yes, please.” 

You hummed, wiggling your ass around just so you could watch his face contort in despair, crumbling under the delicious drag of your plump walls around his cock. Jungkook almost looked cute, you dared to think, even if you were sure he would fold you in half the second that he got those ropes off. It was like teasing a tiger in a zoo: people only felt brave enough to do it because there was a thick glass between them. “You better do it, then,” you told him. 

After everything you had put him through, Jungkook seemed almost hesitant to do so. “C-Can I move?” He asked, just to be sure. Last thing he needed was to do something wrong and have you walking out on him. His cock was so hard, leaking inside you, and he didn’t believe that he could handle being left like that. 

“Of course,” you told him, the tenderness of your voice so different from what you sounded like all night. Jungkook was still on the palm of your hand, but your victory when it came to making him beg had already been achieved. So you could relax and let him do the heavy lifting for once. Being active was exhausting sometimes. “Come on, Kook,” you egged him on, leaning forward so you could find support on his chest. You knew what was coming. “Fuck me.” 

That seemed to be the last spark he needed to ignite his fire because, soon enough, he was placing both feet on the mattress and thrusting upwards, your body collapsing forward under the force of his movements. Jungkook barely gave you any time to breathe: he fucked you fast and deep, helped by the gravity of your weight above him; shallow breaths and noisy whines leaving his mouth in a beautiful cacophony of sounds. It wasn’t long before he was making you bounce on his cock, pretty moans melting upon your lips as you fought to keep your balance over him. 

“B-Baby,” Jungkook stammered, an airy, high-pitched moan sounding from his parted mouth. His brain was utterly bewildered by the movement of your body above his own, the bouncing of your breasts and the wild fluttering of your eyelashes. And those moans, those gorgeous, ethereal little sounds that you reserved just for him. “S-So perfect. All mine.” 

“All yours,” you said promptly, struggling to meet his gaze. No matter how much you tried, you could not follow the speed of his thrusts, so you simply kept your body in place as he used it as he pleased. “Is this what you wanted?” 

He nodded, mouth falling open. His lips were pouty and swollen, slightly red from the way he had bitten them before. “Wanna cum,” he breathed out, “inside you.” 

No pretty please, you realized. Perhaps it wasn’t your best call to ask him to fuck you, because it dawned on you that you had just handed Jungkook his esteemed control back on a silver platter. That started simply as a doubt in the corners of your mind, however, you were sure that you had lost that battle once his needy whimpers started to wash away, instead replaced by the guttural, rough groans that he usually presented to you. 

Not that you truly cared about it: you had already proven your point. 

His head leaned to the side, pressing against his elevated arm. Jungkook was hypnotized by the way that your bodies met, the way you held yourself up so he could fuck himself inside you. You were always so good for him. “Your pussy feels so fucking amazing, baby,” Jungkook moaned out, hips snapping up against yours. A hiss dripped from his mouth when he felt you clench around him, signaling that you were close once again. “Look so pretty. Made for my cock.” 

“Y-Yes,” you stammered, head falling back. You could feel that familiar tingling at the bottom of your stomach, your orgasm ready to snap once more. Jungkook always fucked you so well, even when his hands were tied up, always left your brain scrambling after the most basic of words. “I’m c-close.” 

Jungkook tried once more to pull at his restraints, but it simply wouldn’t bulge. The contrast between the red ropes and the dark ink decorating his skin was beautiful, the veins of his hands getting thicker as tugged again and again. Jungkook was beyond the realms of reason by that point, struggling like a caged animal because there was nothing else in the world that he wanted more than to touch; to suck your breasts and to fuck you the way he wanted to. “Gonna cum too, baby,” his voice was almost a roar, deep and frustrated. It shot straight up to your core, made you tip over the edge and come down spasming around his cock, your high washing over you. “That’s it, cream my cock,” he praised. In the background of your overwhelmed state, you could feel as his member throbbed inside you, ready to release. “Take everything for me, alright? Wanna fill you up.”  

You barely had any time to nod before he was spilling himself inside you, a long, throaty moan dripping like sin from his lips. Jungkook tried to keep his movements up for a bit longer, delighting himself in the way you winced at the feeling, but even he had grown too tired to continue it. So, at last, he collapsed back against the mattress, sweaty hair falling over his eyes. 

“Get up,” he commanded, breathless. “Let me see it.” 

With shaky movements, you did as he requested, planting one hand on his thigh so you could raise your body. His cock slipped out at the motion, already softening, but his gaze was stuck on the gradual dripping of his cum between your pussy lips. As much as you were used to that specific request, it always made your legs weak when you looked at him during that part — no matter what happened before, Jungkook always had that maniac expression plastered all over his face, like the mere image of his cum slipping out of you was enough to send him into a frenzy all over again. And, most times, it was. 

“Good girl,” his dark stare slowly navigated towards your eyes. His arms were surprisingly still, no longer battling against the ropes, and there was something ominous about that. “Push it back in.” 

Because you didn’t want to anger him any further, you agreed. It was almost impressive how quickly Jungkook was able to take back his control: even with him being immobilized, you were still folding and following his wishes like it was your second nature. “Like this?” You asked, using two of your fingers to stuff his cum back inside. 

“Yeah, just like that.” He breathed out, the final seconds of his exhale morphing into a low growl. “Now, ___,” he called, eyes still glued to your pussy. “Untie me.” 

You almost wanted to go against that, given the way he was about to break you in half, but that wasn’t probably the brightest of ideas. A bit nervous, you moved off his lap and sat down next to him, hands flying to undo the knots. “Hang on,” you requested. From the corners of his vision, you could see Jungkook staring you down, his piercing eyes focused on your face, silently watching you through the curtain of his black hair. At last, you managed to undo the ropes, the thick material falling beside you as Jungkook lowered his arms and started to massage his wrists. “How are your hands? I hope it wasn’t—“

“Lay down.” He interrupted, dry. Your mouth fell shut — none of your usual sarcastic remarks finding their way past the lump in your throat. 

The softness of the pillow was a welcomed sensation, but your body could not relax, not when Jungkook was still looking at the pink marks on his inked skin, thinking about what he was going to do to you. You waited for what seemed like hours until he finally moved around, arms on either side of your head and chest pressed flush against yours. Jungkook’s heat was asphyxiating, his nose bumping against yours as he placed a small, tender kiss on your lips. He was being too calm, you noticed that instantly; still waters with sharks swimming underneath. 

“Silly girl,” he mumbled against your mouth, fingers pressing on either side of your jaw. Jungkook pulled your mouth open, thumb caressing your lower lip as he stared down at you like an arrogant monarch. You felt terribly small, shrinking under his presence. “It’s not my hands that you should be worrying about.” He smirked, and his thumb paused its tender motions on your lip. He sighed. “Now that you had your fun, I’m gonna have mine.” 

~ 

Jungkook was right: his wrists were red the next day. He naively thought that no one would be able to see it through his tattoos, but Taehyung, even in his hungover stupor, had his detective eye ready and noticed the marks right away. There was absolutely no way all his crime documentaries made him such an expert, Jungkook thought, but couldn’t really be sure of it. 

“You know… things like this only make me more curious,” Taehyung said after Jungkook had refused to tell him who had come over the previous night. He was munching on his sandwich like his life depended on it, brows furrowed into a perfect picture of concentration. There was jelly all over his mouth, pulling up the corners of his lips and making Taehyung look like a terrible, discount copy of the joker. “Like, a chick tied you up? Come on, I have to meet someone like that. It’s a matter of, like, survival, some alpha wolf bullshit—“

“Fuck off,” Jungkook cut him short, burying his face on his hands. He was too tired to deal with any of that. “I never want to hear about you or your wolves ever again.”

~

check out the rest of the bad influence collection! 

taglist > @minyoongiboongi  @bvrrym0re @marcoazam2 @shojotae @youurkryptonite @fan-ati--c @btstrasht @crazy4myself @ft-multi @kooafraid @dianaaviny @ggukkieland @cryinginmypromdress @kissestothesky @imluckybitches @gyukult @jinsalpaca @0901-1230 @we8joon​ @gamerkooks​

[rouge-variant]

About Levi's bond to reader, what if she also was bonded to him but she wasn't an Ackerman (another family with the bond thing). So they are each others host. She's always very kind, gentle and motherly towards him but doesn't understand her feelings/actions towards him or why she is the way she is towards him. (not me trying to live my dreams through your headcanons hahhahaha xD)

By the gods, you've gotten me hooked on this idea too!!! I'm so glad you're enjoying these and yes keep sending me them so I can help you live your dreams!!! Just a reminder, I'm still learning about what the Ackerman Bond is, so if I make a mistake, feel free to correct me. So sorry for the wait! Thanks for your request and I hope you enjoy!!!

Blood Bond Host Levi and his Ackerman Bond Host S/O Headcanons:

Trigger Warning: Mild bloody injury mention. Please keep this in mind while you read.

Explain this to the poor man. He is the host of someone with a bond similar to his own? And it's of the same person who happens to be his host? The confusion is never ending for Levi. You're a soft gently person, someone who wouldn't hurt a fly. But definitely a Titan, and maybe a Military Police Officer.

You became Levi's host first and he became yours not to long afterwards. The fact that he was in a position that awakened that power within you, guilts him. Going off the assumption that your blood bond is similar with his, he's added a new problem onto your shoulders. When he comes and confronts you about it, he's stunned how you just brush it off and instead, you reassure him. Something he didn't know he needed but was grateful for nonetheless.

Levi isn't shocked to see you staying close to him. He's glad you are because it makes it easier for him to keep an eye on you. But at the same time, it's a little difficult to adjust to. Even Hange isn't around him this much and he's unsure of how to act. He knows that you're instincts are responsible for this and it isn't on you by choices. So he tries to be more patient.

You surprise him more and more with each day. This time, you two were separated on a mission and Levi may have been a little careless. He managed to end up with a nice gash along the outside of his calf. He quickly wrapped it to slow the bleeding and continue on in the mission but he had to treat it when he got back. At the same time, something alerted you that something happened and the first moment everyone was together, you went to find him.

He didn't put a fight when you pulled him into his office and located his med kit. When it came to tending to the injury, he tried to convince you to let him handle himself but you told him no. Firmly but gently, very similar to a motherly nature that he used to know. But there was also another part to it that he picked up on while you worked. You were feeling guilty. Whether that be from his role as 'host' or simply that he's been around you enough to tell from your body language, how you feel.

Once the injury was cleaned and re-wrapped, you apologized. Levi stopped you before you said anything less from "I'm". He explained to you that it was ok to be struggling with this new feeling/instinct of needing to protect him. While he couldn't explain to you why it happened, he assured you he was ok with it. After all, he goes through the same thing as you. Levi's ears heat up and his cheeks become slightly rosy as he admits he enjoys you being around him and fussing over him.

The two of you eventually grow closer, whether it be romantically or just platonic. You're both learning more about each other and how to make life with being each other host's work. There's ups and downs but Levi wouldn't trade it for the world.

You've become an important person in his life and he cant imagine a day without you. Same goes for you. Levi's been the strength to your weakness. Since you're always such a caring and worrier of others, it makes it easy for people to walk over you. But ever since you've become his host, you find life is better and easier to enjoy. Maybe this is a good thing...

[pet-genius]

A complex and many-layered thing

But Harry’s anger at Snape continued to pound through his veins like venom. Let go of his anger? He could as easily detach his legs. . . .

This is the first Occlumency lesson. Harry is right, of course. Feelings don’t go away because you want them to. To let go of them when they’ve not been addressed or validated can be as hard as detaching a leg. And yet, it’s what Dumbledore asked Snape to do, and it’s what Snape had to do to survive the first war as Dumbledore’s spy. You have to ask yourself… how?

Trapped animals chew off their own legs to escape. It’s a sacrifice they make to survive.

If there’s one thing in a fic that turns me off it, it’s the idea that Occlumency shields are a thing, that Severus was so gifted at it because he’s got some power like Second Sight or being a metamorphagus. I always preferred to think of Occlumency and Legilimency as skills that can be learned, even if some have more aptitude for it than others.

Severus entered Hogwarts with the kind of life experience that primed him for developing these skills, and left it with even more. Occlumency is magical dissociation, a post-traumatic coping mechanism, and Severus has C/PTSD. More under the cut; tw: just general angst.

To survive, he would have had to develop a knack for telling how explosive and unpredictable people feel. Over his life, he faced at least two egregious examples of what Pete Walker, author of “Complex PTSD” calls “the Charming Bully”.

Especially devolved fight types can become sociopathic. Sociopathy can range along a continuum that stretches from corrupt politician to vicious criminal. A particularly nasty sociopath, who I call the charming bully, probably falls somewhere around the middle of this continuum. The charming bully behaves in a friendly manner some of the time. He can even occasionally listen and be helpful in small amounts, but he still uses his contempt to overpower and control others. This type typically relies on scapegoats for the dumping of his vitriol. These unfortunate scapegoats are typically weaker than him. […] He generally spares his favorites from this behavior, unless they get out of line. If the charming bully is charismatic enough, those close to him will often fail to register the unconscionable meanness of his scapegoating. The bully’s favorites often slip into denial, relieved that they are not the target. Especially charismatic bullies may even be admired and seen as great.

These would be James Potter and Tom Riddle, who are distantly related, I might add. Harry inherited the tendency to default to the fight response, but since he grew up the scapegoat and not the golden child, he never becomes quite as appalling, and after all, a fight response is normal when they are after you. Even so, Harry, who has both James and Voldemort inside him, triggers Severus to no end. It’s not a coincidence that the memories Harry sees when he is with him are largely horrible, and vice versa. There had to be happy or at least neutral or even boring moments, but these two detest each other, and they know they detest each other. Negative emotions and associated memories are so close to the surface they can’t be contained. This is the purpose of the Pensieve in this context - to contain the emotions. Since Severus knew what was in there when he pulled Harry out, my theory is that you don’t suddenly forget the memories you placed there, but rather you make them less fraught with emotions.

“Get up!” said Snape sharply. “Get up! You are not trying, you are making no effort, you are allowing me access to memories you fear, handing me weapons!”

Harry stood up again, his heart thumping wildly as though he had really just seen Cedric dead in the graveyard. Snape looked paler than usual, and angrier, though not nearly as angry as Harry was. “I — am — making — an — effort,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I told you to empty yourself of emotion!”

“Yeah? Well, I’m finding that hard at the moment,” Harry snarled.

“Then you will find yourself easy prey for the Dark Lord!” said Snape savagely. “Fools who wear their hearts proudly on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, who wallow in sad memories and allow themselves to be provoked this easily — weak people, in other words — they stand no chance against his powers! He will penetrate your mind with absurd ease, Potter!”

A lot to unpack here.

“Memories you fear,” “weapons”, “easy prey”.

Fearing your own memories, viewing your own lived experiences as weapons to be used against you, being easy prey… Severus could not be speaking louder of himself here. He is the one whose mind had been penetrated with absurd ease, he is the one who handed weapons to Voldemort, and he is the one who had to do the psychological equivalent of detaching his own leg – again and again – to survive.

I’ll argue that Severus developed a fawn response and a flight response, as fighting had never really worked out for him if it was possible at all. He had at least two more people I’d describe as bullies in his life, Tobias and Lucius.

Again from Pete Walker:

These [fawn] response patterns are so deeply set in the psyche, that as adults, many codependents automatically respond to threat like dogs, symbolically rolling over on their backs, wagging their tails, hoping for a little mercy and an occasional scrap. Webster’s second entry for fawn is: “to show friendliness by licking hands, wagging its tail, etc.: said of a dog.” I find it tragic that some codependents are as loyal as dogs to even the worst “masters”.

Remember what Sirius called him? Lucius’s lapdog. Bellatrix called him Dumbledore’s pet, Dumbledore said he dangles on Voldemort’s arm, the narrative compares Snape to a rabbit in SWM and Harry compares the Half Blood Prince to a beloved pet who had gone feral (yes, this does mean a lot to me on a personal level, yes my username is not a coincidence).

His unconscious fawn response might have been his undoing, drawn as he was to figures like Lucius and Voldemort. As an adult, I think he utilized the skills he had developed to survive in order to stitch these people up, and involuntary dissociation and fawning became Occlumency, which to me, is his signature magic. Harry needed only to banish Voldemort from his mind; Severus could not settle for this. He had to give Voldemort something, and knowing how to fawn meant knowing what to give him and how to draw himself in such a light that Voldemort would believe it. We see how he wanted to be seen by the Death Eaters: a self-serving coward who sought to hide behind Dumbledore’s apron, playing his pet. But that’s Pettigrew, not Snape. Imagine the self-immolation, the self-violation, it must have taken to convince everyone that you’re an ersatz Wormtail! Snape is a man and a prince, and the text recognizes this as Harry calls him, in the end, Dumbledore’s man, the bravest man, and as that chapter is called “The Prince’s Tale”. Voldemort thought Snape was nothing more than a “good and faithful servant,” and that his last words were “My Lord”.

But Severus had an unequaled gift for Occlumency, specifically against Voldemort, because Voldemort could not legilimens what he couldn’t feel; and he couldn’t feel love, grief, guilt, and remorse. This was Severus’s secret weapon, which would not have worked against Harry - who can feel these things, and who is also Lily’s son. I can prove it. The first time Harry gets the hang of Occlumency is after Dobby dies:

His scar burned, but he was master of the pain; he felt it, yet was apart from it. He had learned control at last, learned to shut his mind to Voldemort, the very thing Dumbledore had wanted him to learn from Snape. Just as Voldemort had not been able to possess Harry while Harry was consumed with grief for Sirius, so his thoughts could not penetrate Harry now, while he mourned Dobby. Grief, it seemed, drove Voldemort out . . . though Dumbledore, of course, would have said that it was love. . . .

Harry learned to dissociate, though fortunately in a healthier way than many of us ever get to.

Of course, Snape was a good and faithful servant… to Dumbledore, which brings us to the flight response. The chapter wherein he escapes after killing Dumbledore is called “Flight of the Prince”. He should be fighting, he had just proven that he can cast a killing curse, and yet he flees. He can literally fly, in fact: He, Lily, and Voldemort are the only ones we see pulling this off.

As a child, we see this too: He copes with his home situation by reminding himself “it won’t be long and I’ll be gone.” He is thrilled when he imagines Hogwarts, his escape; he follows Lily out of the carriage instead of confronting James and Sirius head-on (which might have saved them all a lot of pain eventually). But this doesn’t work out, we see that in terrifying detail. The next attempt at an escape is joining the Death Eaters, but this too doesn’t work out.

He can’t flee anymore.

“Severus, you cannot pretend this isn’t happening!” Karkaroff’s voice sounded anxious and hushed, as though keen not to be overheard. “It’s been getting clearer and clearer for months. I am becoming seriously concerned, I can’t deny it —”

“Then flee,” said Snape’s voice curtly. “Flee — I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts.”

Shortly thereafter:

“Severus,” said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, “you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready . . . if you are prepared . . .”

“I am,” said Snape.

He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely.

He was ready, and he was prepared. He didn’t fly; he walked toward what might well have been his end with open eyes, armed only with the strength of his mind. Before Voldemort killed him, he looked pale, again, and terrified.

“I sought a third wand, Severus. The Elder Wand, the Wand of Destiny, the Deathstick. I took it from its previous master. I took it from the grave of Albus Dumbledore.”

And now Snape looked at Voldemort, and Snape’s face was like a death mask. It was marble white and so still that when he spoke, it was a shock to see that anyone lived behind the blank eyes.

I ask myself if this was the moment he realized he had been betrayed, that by giving Dumbledore a painless death he had secured his own. Maybe he wasn’t pale because he was scared; maybe he was pale because he was shocked. He was at his absolute limit, Occluding with all his might when he could have easily saved himself. The dam is about to break. All the memories he feared, all the weapons, the entire content of his heart is about to spill through - literally.

He fawned for Voldemort, the worst of all possible masters, but in the end, he was Voldemort’s undoing. All the ways in which he was weak and powerless against Tobias, James, Lucius, et al., proved to be part of goodness and source of his power. It doesn’t surprise me in the least that Snape is so loved. I’ve never actually seen such love for any other fictional character. He represents a kind of courage that many of us need to get by, lest we simply become evil or give the fuck up (“I wish I was dead”). A kind of courage rarely celebrated. The more time I’ve spent in the fandom in general and in the Snapedom in particular, the more I am convinced of this.

[linkspooky]

Yuji, Alone. 

I have been saying in my past few meta that Yuji has a really unhealthy way of viewing both himself, and his relationships with others. Yuji is excellent at reading the feelings of others and empathizing with them, and at the same time terrible at processing his own emotions, a trait he shares with Geto who he is once again paralleling this chapter by choosing to stew in isolation rather than reach out for support. 

Chapter 138 does an excellent job of showing how deep these issues run, which I will explain under the cut. 

1. Yuji and Geto

If I were to explain the unhealthy mindset Yuji has by simplifying it down to one sentenence, simply stated it would be “I want to help others, but I don’t want to accept help from other people.” 

Both Yuji and Geto are so motivated by empathy they feel like they are responsible for solving other people’s problems, and they often use other people rather than themselves as a reason to move. They’re actually selfless to a fault. In that, it’s a problem in their behavior. They do everything they do for other peope, so they have no idea what they themselves want. If Gojo is someone who has a strong self image, a strong set of beliefs, an idea of what he wants to do to the world, Geto and Yuji are people who try not to think about themselves at all. 

Not only does Yuji almost never critically exam his own motivations, but he also doesn’t think of his relationships with other people. 

This is something Yaga pointed out as a danger with Yuji’s way of going about things, all the way at the beginning of his arc. If you’re doing it because your grandpa told you so, then is it really something you want to do? When you die, is it going to be your grandpa’s fault too?

Yuji is someone who seems selfless on the surface, and to an extent he is, but just like Geto that’s not all there is to him. It’s something Gojo called out early on, Geto presented himself as someone selfless, motivated entirely by using his powers to protect others, but he was also doing so self righteously. 

To clarify what I mean by self righteous, Geto believed that he was doing something because it was the objective right thing to do, but actually it was just his own personal feelings. That’s why after Riko’s death forced him to critically examine himself, he realized he didn’t want to follow the rules of Jujutsu Society. 

Both Yuji and Geto pay attention to others, but also have the blinders on in regards to themselves, and that’s the parallel right there. Yuji says he is doing these things for other people, that his number one priority is to save them but that motivation is even deconstructed in the third chapter.

Yuji’s not actually doing this for purely altruistic reasons, but for selfish ones. He wanted to do something that nobody else could do. Yuji’s life was like a vaccuum before this point. He didn’t have any real friends, or anything he wanted to do. Suddenly he had a purpose basically gift wrapped and handed to him on his lap. 

Basically, Yuji and Geto both have this schewed way of seeing other people. They thing other people exist to validate their own existences. 

To put it simply. If Hidden Inventory Geto helps weak people than he’s valid. If Yuji helps people, then he’s valid. 

Not only is the way they view themselves built around how they help other people, but at the same time all of their relationships are built up on this as well. Relationships that are built upon shaky foundations will crumble apart easily when tested. 

Geto’s most important relationship was with Gojo, they had an intense chemistry and interaction with one another like they were made for each other. They were both good at naturally balancing each other out, Geto was the one who stood up to Gojo and acted like a tether, and Gojo ackonwledged Geto as his one and only. 

However, the relationship was also built on the idea that Gojo needed Geto. Geto was only able to view his relationships with other people in that way. Geto, wants to take care of people, wants to help people. However, eventually, he was left behind by Gojo who no longer needed him as a partner in combat. On top of that, Geto awoke to a higher purpose in ridding the world of cursed energy. Geto wants to be needed by somebody in the same sense that Yuji does, so for Geto at least being needed to save the whole world in his eyes, was just more important than maintaining his relationship with Gojo. 

Which is why both Geto and Yuji’s relationships fall apart. They are great at making relationshisps, but not at maintaining them. Attention is drawn to the fact that the trio has great chemistry with each other and get along well, but they’re also terrible at communicating with each other. 

"The seats... in my life... How should I put this? I don't want my heart to be affected by people who don't have a place there. Does that sound cold? Well, I guess there are also guys like you who brings their own chair and takes a seat." Translation by Miho.

Almost literally, I don’t want anyone who’s not a part of my life to try to talk to me or tell me what to do. Also the reference that Yuji is kind of different because Yuji just kind of walked into her life unannounced and invited himself there (this is how Yuji forms relationships with everyone.)

All three of them go behind each other’s backs and keep secrets from one another. All three of them avoid direct confrontation, Nobara even says she doesn’t really want anyone else even trying to tell her how to live her life. The Origin of Obedience arc shows that Nobara, Yuji and Megumi are all good at fighting together as a team, but also questioning if they have a healthy friendship outside of that?

Any relationship takes work, confrontation, arguments and even just plain old talking about things. However, someone who is primarily insecure in their relationships will not be able to do things.  Couples shouldn’t only argue, but couples who never argue is just as unhealthy. If you are so afraid that one argument is going to end a relationship, then your relationship was fragile to begin with. 

Yuji and Geto experience conditional relatinoships. In the sense that, they are only allowed to have friends, if they are helpful to those friends. They themselves are never allowed to ask for help. It’s true that Gojo was kind of blind to Geto’s faults, but also Geto would have never asked for help. Gojo could not see, and Geto deliberately hid things from them. 

Geto always makes his relationships on the condition that he is needed. When Gojo grew more independent, Geto took that as a sign that Gojo didn’t need him anymore and deliberately started to pull away.

Because, Geto isn’t ever allowed to be the one who needs someone else. 

2. Avoidant Attachment

This is just a personal theory of mine, but I think Yuji’s issues might even center around the psychological idea of attachment theory. Especially it’s since deliberately mentioned to Junpei, that Yuji never met his mother. 

Attachment theory is a complex idea, but basically it states that attachment to other people, that is the idea to form healthy relationships with family members, friends, romantic partners is learned instead of naturally present in us. It’s a skill people develop in their formative years. 

Those who show patterns of problematic attachment in childhood will continue the behavior into adulthood unless it’s corrected, because attachment is a skill that’s developed the same as anything else. Of the four categories, Yuji and Geto most resemble this one. 

Avoidant attachment: Children with an avoidant attachment tend to avoid parents or caregivers, showing no preference between a caregiver and a complete stranger. This attachment style might be a result of abusive or neglectful caregivers. Children who are punished for relying on a caregiver will learn to avoid seeking help in the future.

Which goes further to explain how they can be so empathic towards other people, and yet the same time completely unable to maintain close relationships with them. It’s because, they avoid people at the same time. They don’t seek out help when they need it, because, deep down they view themselves as unworthy of the help. 

Geto did not immediately break after the trauma of losing Riko, it was the year of isolation after that where he slowly was consumed by his regrets. Geto got worse and worse over a period of time because he couldn’t handle his trauma in any healthy way, until he just completely snapped. 

During that time he asked himself the same questions over and over again, but Geto wasn’t able to find any kind of healthy answer to his questions because, he didn’t reach out for anybody. It wasn’t just the trauma, it was the behavior after the trauma, the decision to isolate himself for over a year. No one does well in isolation. You need other people to grow or develop. If anything Geto stagnated. Geto’s central flaw was his self-righteousness. Rather than realizing he was wrong and trying to change this flaw of his, he just doubles down and becomes even more self righteous. He goes from believing he’s responsible for protecting all the weak people, to believing he’s a superior being tasked with eliminating all the weak people in the world. So, it’s not really that Geto changed, moreso that he stagnated because he cut off all his relationships with other people. 

And isn’t Yuji doing the exact same thing right now? Yaga even points out this similaritiy between Geto and Yuji, that they try to carry every regret and burden they have on their own. 

It’s not out of selflessness that they do this though, but rather insecurity. Geto didn’t come to Gojo with his problems, because he wanted to be the strongest alongside Gojo he didn’t want to be weak. He was deliberately avoiding Gojo. 

I think it’s important to establish that Yuji wasn’t abandoned by his friends this chapter. Yuji is alone, because he chose to be alone. He’s alone because he’s avoiding both of his friends, because he’s so, so afraid the friendship will end because it’s based entirely on the condition that he be a helpful, good person.

It’s true that Yuji is genuinely worried about his friends getting hurt because of him, but look at his choices. He’s not really tackling the problem in a healthy way. He’s doing everything he can to avoid the problem, isolating himself, and just trying not to think about things. He could try to talk with Megumi and find a solution, but he’s not doing that because he’s insecure in his attachment to others. 

I think his reaction to Choso pretty clearly illustrates this too. Yuji isn’t around his friends because he doesn’t want to be around them. Which is tragic, because Yuji is holding himself responsible for the mass murder which isn’t really his fault. However, Yuji saw his relationship with both Nobara and Megumi as conditional to begin with. He can only be friends with people he can help, and he can never receive help from them. It’s unhealthy to start with because relationships go both ways. Yuji is also, completely unresponsive to Choso.

Yes. Choso suddenly walking to him and delcaring them brothers is really weird.  I don’t expect Yuji to just suddenly start getting along with him right away.

At the same time, Choso explains what the unconditional love between family is between Yuji, and Yuji just doesn’t get it, because he either hasn’t experienced enough of it, or his grandpa the only person that ever unconditionally loved him is gone. Yuji can’t understand Megumi’s love for him is unconditional,. because from the beginning he sees all relationships as conditional. 

Yuji and Choso are facing opposite direcitons because they’re opposites. Choso is willing to hurt complete strangers too, but his love for his family is unconditional and he will do anything for them. Yuji will help complete strangers, but, he doesn’t really understand unconditional love, and even his love with his closest friends has a few conditions. 

Which is why someone who appears on the surface as such a friendly guy who makes friends everywhere he goes, can call himself “a loner” because in Yuji’s mind he is. He doesn’t have friends, he has people who need him. 

Which is just incredibly sad because Yuji doesn’t understand this. Yuji isolates himself thinking he’s doing it for the sake of his friends, but neither Megumi nor Nobara would want him to be alone. 

[xcrystalzero]

let the rain fall

characters included: zhongli, diluc, childe, kaeya, venti, xiao

summary: it seems the genshin boys have their own preferences of how to spend a rainy day.

Zhongli:

- This gloomy atmosphere is nothing that can't be fixed with a fresh pot of fine tea and some good conversation.

- When a glance out the window makes it clear that you won't be going anywhere anytime soon, he's quick to invite you to stay for some tea and snacks.

- Despite his evident lack of Mora, he has no lack of niceties where he lives and you can only wonder who he got to pay for this high grade tea and fine china.

- He offers you a knitted blanket and the two of you sit at the table as he pours you a cup of tea. It tastes warm and homey and he even sweetened it perfectly to your taste.

- To fill the time, Zhongli does what he does best. He tells you stories about Liyue, both as it is now, and as he knew it when he was a younger god. He weaves modern stories of families warring in certain trade businesses with seemingly fantastical recollections of rock spirits carved into dragons and gods that warred between the sea and sky.

- To him, time may not be an issue, but in the hectic mortal life you live, you've never before been able to truly sit down and listen to the experiences of the man before you. Even as the sky outside clears, you can't bring yourself to rise from your seat and return to your normal life. After hearing about the life of a god, how could you?

Diluc:

- For him, it's business as usual at the Winery.

- Sure, he's probably not going to be making the treck to Mondstat to work the bar at Angel's Share if it's raining cats and dogs outside, but there's plenty of other work that has to get done that he can manage from home.

- If you do manage to pry him away from his desk, you attempt to draw him back to the bedroom to get a little bit of rest, but as you pass the study, his eyes light up and you can tell that he has something else planned now.

- Suddenly, you're sitting across from Diluc, a chessboard between you. If you have no idea how to play, he'll diligently take the time to instruct you, making sure that you're able to understand the game perfectly before he proposes a practice match. Otherwise, he comes out of the gate with that one and there's a strange competitive glint in his eyes that you've never really seen before.

- And so you play. Diluc, for all of his gentlemanly qualities, is not one to throw the match just because he likes you. In fact, that actually spurs him on even more to try and one-up you at every turn. The gameplay is accompanied by an uncharacteristic amount of banter between the two of you. Every time one person takes the match, the other immediately issues another challenge and so you play on and on.

- The maids come to check on you guys since they're sure that you'll burn out at this rate, but you seem to be having a lot of fun, and so they let you be. The weather and your responsibilities are all but forgotten about as the two of you get to spend this well-earned time off together.

Childe:

- Thinks the rain is really fun. Growing up in basically a polar tundra, he didn't really see rain all that much until he left his hometown and began his duties as a Harbinger.

- The novelty of the whole thing combined with his hydro vision and love of water means that he loves rainy days.

- Will 100% drag you out into the downpour just to play around. At first, it seems a little out of character, even for the playful Harbinger, but you quickly realize what he's actually trying to do.

- That aforementioned hydro vision comes in handy as Childe begins to move the raindrops around him, molding them into creations that you can't help but compare to the Oceanid's hyrdo mimics. He's clearly having a blast and the light in his usually flat cerulean eyes only brightens when he sees that you're impressed, or at least amused.

- He just likes to show off, but showing off in front of you is even better so he has a blast. Perhaps if you have a vision, you can join in and the two of you can cause as much chaos as you want before the clouds clear.

- It's a rare chance for you to see a more carefree side of Childe. Usually, even his boyish charm is often a calculated move in the diplomatic schemes he claims to hate so much but is just so good at manufacturing. This however, feels like the real Childe to you.

- Eventually, you drag him into your place to get cleaned up and out of your soaked clothing but even as the moment fades, the light in his eyes doesn't. He looks better like this, you think but don't say. Instead, you chose to enjoy this side of the Harbinger before it inevitably fades away once more.

Kaeya:

- Does not like the rain because of certain... complications with it in his past. He won't tell you but it's not too hard to figure out from his actions.

- When it does rain, he prefers to either hole himself up in his office, or settle happily into the corner of a tavern and burn time with his drinking buddies.

- On the chance that you decide to join him, he's quite grateful for your company. He offers to cover your tab this time if you get him the next time he's had a few too many, which you wave off. However, as he begins to down drinks at an alarming speed, you can't help but worry.

- So, you slow him down by drawing him into conversation. You begin to talk about the most random things, though you continuously bring the conversation back around to him so that it is Kaeya telling the stories and doing a lot of the actual speaking. Not only does this slow down his progress through the wine before him, but it draw the other patrons to you.

- Suddenly, you've gone from two people talking at the bar, to basically a large gathering of people, all holed in together telling their stories, bantering, and bickering, and enjoying themselves.

- It takes him a while since you were kind of slick about it, but the Cavalry Captain catches on eventually and the smallest of smiles comes to his face. A real one this time. Well well, as far as playing games goes, he's pretty sure you won this one. And he's glad about it.

- He becomes significantly more relaxed after that, though he leans into you for the rest of the night, resting his head on your shoulders or pulling you gently closer to him. Nothing spicy or suggestive. Just a gentle gesture to show that he really is grateful for all of this, and for you.

Venti:

- Decides that it's the perfect time to start singing in the square.

- No seriously, you're wandering around Mondstat looking for the guy, only to find him traipsing around at the base of his statue, singing into the sky.

- Obviously, you yell at him to come inside, mentioning that he's not going to get any coins for his songs if there's no audience out to listen to them. He laughs at that, giving you a quick lecture of the value of music outside of money.

- And then he grabs your hand and pulls you out from under the overhanging you were taking shelter under. You screech at first but it turns to giggles as he then holds his hand out to you. "May I have this dance? Hehe, I've always wanted to say that!" How could you turn away such an adorable archon?

- And so, you indulge him, letting him lead you in a dance that is more skipping and jumping about than really dancing, but it's fun and brings bubbles of laughter to your lips so you keep going. He sings throughout it, making your own music as you spin around one another.

- Your shenanigans begin to draw some looks as people begin to yell from their windows, requesting songs from Venti, along with whatever dance you decide to "choreograph" to them. Perhaps some will even leave their houses and join you, reveling in the cool summer rain and the song that seems to cut straight through it.

Xiao:

- Adepti are rarely bothered by the rain, but he notes that you don't seem particularly keen on setting foot outside right now and actually suggests that the two of you just stay at Wangshu Inn until it clears up a little.

- You're surprised by his care, though you're not complaining as you dip back under the roof, protected and dry.

- That being said, you can tell that he's getting kind of antsy and you don't want him to feel uncomfortable at all or like he's being held there for no reason. So, you decide to find an activity for the two of you that doesn't involve fighting and that you can do inside of the inn.

- It takes a little convincing but you manage to get Smiley Yanxiao to loan you guys the kitchen for a little while (he's not getting any customers either way in this weather). It's time, you decide, for Xiao to learn how to make Almond Tofu himself!

- He's a bit skeptical but you bring up that it is his favorite dish, and he does eat it pretty often, so he should probably know what goes into making it. He begrudgingly agrees and you start.

- As it turns out, having never cooked in his long life, Xiao is awful at it. You guys absolutely botch the recipe the first two times and you're sure that Xiao is going to bail on you, saying that this was a stupid idea and going back to sulking at the top of the inn. Surprisingly though, he actually stays and seems like he's invested in the entire process.

- On the third try, you guys finally come up with something tangible. After a taste, it's not quite on the level of the one Smiley Yanxiao makes, but it's still not bad. Xiao is tempted to just huff and take off, but the look of accomplishment and happiness on your face as you two share the dish you made together warms him in a way he only feels when he's around you.

-Perhaps he can afford to spend more rainy days indoors and idle, if it means spending them with you.

[workofheart]

promise

levi never thought he could have a peaceful night’s rest until he found himself in your arms

requested by: @thecaptainsbride​ 

pairing: levi ackerman x reader

wc: 2.5k

genre: fluff, canonverse, establishing domesticity

a/n: we had levi comforting reader, and now we have reader comforting levi :’) in terms of the request, i altered the timeline a bit but i think it still captures what you were going for! enjoy u guys <3

Levi isn’t used to letting people into his space.

In this line of work, he’s learned to be careful of the people he trusts to see his life from the inside. Not only to retain the secrecy and plans of the Scouts, but to protect his well being when he is so surrounded by death and destruction. A heart can only break so many times before it fails to beat at all.

That’s why, when the night comes when he finally decides to let you stay over, he’s tense. He observes your every step, unsure if he’s nervous or embarrassed or scared. It’s not skepticism, he knows, because he does trust you. You’re the only person he could possibly imagine him letting get so close to him with all that he’s experienced. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have let you enter in the first place; so for once, he’s going to have faith his own judgment.

You slowly pace around his room, peeking at the knick knacks Levi has accumulated over the span of his life so far. He has quite the array of stationary arranged neatly on his desk, and a curated assortment of pens and ink to choose from. Worn, loved books line the shelves of the wooden case, small pieces of paper poking out from the top. A nimble finger traces over the cracked spine of one with a faded green cover.

“Can I?” you ask, turning over your shoulder to see him. Levi is sitting on the edge of his bed, palms pressed tightly to his thighs. He takes a deep breath and nods gently in response, dark strands of hair falling in front of his eyes.

You carefully tilt the spine towards you and pluck it from its spot. Flipping through the pages, you can see how Levi has diligently underlined, highlighted, and starred the passages. Small notes in his delicate handwriting decorate the margins with definitions and insightful observations. This book has been well read, and you’re sure the others are just the same.

His room is fairly bare for how long it’s been his home, but how much of a home is it really if he’s always on the move with the scouts? Constantly between hotels, barracks, abandoned homes, or whatever else the world throws at them next, he hasn’t had time to make the space livable. They’re never in one place too long - this is more like a headquarters to come back to after the day is done. And for Levi, the day is rarely done, even when the sun has set and the sky turns dark.

It’s strange, but he almost likes having you here. To him, it’s always been just a room. A simple, stupid box in a line of other simple, stupid boxes to house people just like him. Now that you’re occupying the space, though, it’s much different. It’s no longer just a room, but a sort of home. 

Your presence here gives it much more meaning than any trinket he might have placed on the shelf. Things in this room he’s never given a second thought suddenly burst to life with your interest in them, pulling memories from the depths of his brain as he recalls where he got them, when he got them, just because you asked. 

It’s much too easy for him, too, the way he imagines coming home from a long day to greet you at the front door. He pictures you perfectly, hair twisted into a loose braid, a soft nightgown hanging off your shoulders, feet sporting cozy slippers that make muted thuds as you walk over to give him a warm welcome back. He imagines quiet mornings sitting at the table for two, sipping tea and working through crosswords together. He sees himself reading aloud to you at the bay window, dozing off against his shoulder under the light. 

The thought of such uncomplicated, reliable domesticity with you is a thought he lets himself dream about. It seems natural, a routine he wouldn’t mind slipping into in the slightest, and you haven’t even stayed the night yet. 

He wouldn’t mind living here forever as long as you did too

When your curiosity has been, for the most part, sated, you return back and join him on the bed. You plop down, expecting to sink right in - why exactly, you’re not sure, because it’s incredibly characteristic for Levi’s bed to be as hard as a rock.

Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but the firmness is still shocking beneath your fingertips.

“Have you ever even slept in this bed?” You ask with wide eyes, hands pressing down into the austere cushion, trying to fluff it like it was a pillow. The incredulous smile adorning your face makes his stomach flip. He crosses his arms across his front as if to mask his heart beating out of his rib cage. He's never been in such close, private quarters with you before. 

Levi shrugs. “I don’t really sleep anywhere.” Internally, he shakes off his nerves, not wanting to embarrass himself by leaning into them. The thought of showing how bashful he feels alone is mortifying, but he doesn’t know yet that you’d only love him more for it. 

You can’t help but to tease, muttering, “I mean, I know of a way to break it in.” Your face is utterly serious, but your eyes, swimming with a mirth Levi is far too fond of, give it away. 

Levi diverts his eyes with a small roll to the side, the hint of a smile crawling up his face. He’s the last person you’d think to be flustered by such a thing, but it’s only because it’s you. “Go to bed, brat.”

You pout. “Only if you lay down with me.”

“I told you, I don’t sleep.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t lay down.”

You know your way around Levi too well, he thinks, or maybe he just loves you. The way you can get his resolve to crumble with a mere pleading expression must be some sort of crime. You read him like a book and know him like the back of your hand to a point where it would be dangerous if it were anyone else. Usually the thought of such a person would intimidate him, but he doesn’t mind being seen by you - not that he has a choice. Against your will, he doesn’t stand a chance; not now and not ever.

He sighs a long sigh and gestures for you to get in with a small wave of his hand. While he stands to close to blinds and light the lamp by his bedside, you scramble under the covers. The initial feeling of warmth covers your skin and makes you shiver as you adjust, crawling hastily under and pulling the blankets up close to your chest. They’re soft and clean and smell just like Levi.

He lets out a yawn that oddly reminds you of a lion pup, but you don’t mention it, instead locking it away for you to think of later on. If you said anything, he’d probably never do it again. Gently, he pulls up the covers on his side and slides under to join you, the bed sinking with his added weight.

“Goodnight, Levi.”

“Goodnight, dear.”

After laying for a while, staring up at the ceiling, Levi feels himself become drowsy. He lets his muscles relax, lets his jaw unclench, lets his eyes fall shut. Though he’s a bit puzzled as to why, sleeping now seems so inviting, and who is he to deny it?

From his side, you watch his breathing slow. It settles into a steady rise and fall of his chest, and his lips part slightly.

The progression is slow. At first, you work up the courage to slip your arm over his middle. You spend minute after minute contemplating, picturing him pushing you away, but you’re getting tired and enough is enough. You slip your arm over his middle and stay completely still; then, nothing happens.

Until moments later, when he rolls onto his side to face your direction. His eyes are still closed, rhythmically relaxed breaths leaving his nose. Then, you move onto your back and scoot up a bit further onto the pillows. He unconsciously curls into your warmth, shifting further into your body, and it makes you melt immediately, swelling with a giddy feeling. You’re almost worried the joyous thumping you feel inside your chest will wake him up.

Eventually, Levi’s head rests perfectly atop your shoulder, small puffs of air falling lightly on your skin. Your hands rub calm circles into the skin on his back where his t-shirt has ridden up, careful not to rouse him from his slumber.

It’s like that for a long time. You keep yourself awake, content with just holding him for now. You take the time to think, watching the flickering glow of the lamp, listening to his quiet breaths, feeling the muted beat of his heart on your hip.

It’s hours later when Levi sucks in a big breath, blinking awake in alarm. His head picks up off your chest and he looks around, finally settling on you who blinks right back. His lids squeeze shut and he mentally grounds himself as he realizes he’s safe.

“You okay?” you ask quietly, voice low as to not interrupt the calm of the night. Your hold around him tightens to let him know you’re there.

He shakes his head slightly and sighs. “Bad dream.” 

“‘S all right,” you say, hand moving from his back to his nape, “you can go back to sleep.”

He rubs his eyes, yawning. In an instant, he freezes, realizing the position he’s in. He’s practically clinging to you like a child would a toy, and he feels a familiar heat flush his skin as his head hangs. “Sorry.” He swallows. “I should probably start work.” 

He starts to push himself off of you to get up, but your hold on his shoulders is firm, pulling him right back down.

“You’re tired,” you say. “Stay. I’ll be right here.”

He sighs, looking around, before resigning and dipping his head back down to lay on top of you. He doesn’t feel like arguing something he knows he wants deep down anyway. He nuzzles his face into your front, shaking his head slightly as if to clear his mind of what was plaguing it in his rest.

“Promise you won’t leave,” he mumbles softly into your shirt, barely audible. He’s too tired to put up a mask for show, and he’s relieved to see that you don’t need one from him come rain or shine.

Your fingers card through his silky locks and brush them back from his face as his body finally sinks into yours, his weight a warming comfort. It’s slight, but you feel his head tilt just a bit further into your palm.

You place a chaste kiss to his crown. “Promise.”

☆☆☆

When the morning sun finally wakes and rises above the horizon line, Levi finds himself turning away from the beams filtering through the curtains. He feels the golden light on his lids, and he flips onto his opposite side, clinging to the cozy feel of his bed. The only thing that pulls him from his slumber is when his hand stretches out to find emptiness all around, your presence absent from his space where he so desperately wants you.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” you say, watching him shift slowly and gain his surroundings. You’re standing at the small counter across the room, boiling a pot of water on the stove - Levi can tell from the faint rumbling of bursting bubbles inside the steel kettle. He slowly peels his eyes open to get a glimpse of you, features seeming to glow with the light pouring in from the windows. He feels his heart skip a beat that he’s not ready for.

 Levi is surprised that he has slept in so late, let alone slept through the entire night at all. It’s rare that this happens - he almost wants to say it’s the first time it has occurred for him, waking up in secure comfort rather than burning fear. The only thing that could make it better were if you were right beside him.

Of course, Levi can’t bring himself to say something so forward this early in the morning. Instead, he mumbles a small, “Come back,” a hint of a whine to his voice that only you could identify.

There’s a muted clinking sound as you stir a spoon around in the porcelain cups you’ve prepared, knocking against each other as you try your best to pick them up. It feels like a juggling act, trying to bring them over safely. You don’t know how Levi makes it look so easy every time he brings you a cup when they are so awfully hot to the touch. He must have gotten used to it, or bears the sting for the sake of his collected appearance.

“I was planning on it,” you reassure him, “just had to stretch a bit.” 

Your feet pad lightly across the wood floors until you reach him, offering the tea which he graciously accepts. You set your own on the nightstand to cool while Levi takes his first sip immediately. It tastes just like how he makes it for himself. Considering he’s never explicitly shown you exactly what he does, he’s both surprised and deeply touched.

His eyes follow you as you clamor in next to him. He asks the question that’s been playing on his mind since he stirred awake hours ago. 

“Were you awake all night?”

He sees your expression falter slightly and knows right from then. Regardless, you brush it off without hesitation, nestling up to his side.

“No, no,” you lie casually, “I woke up a little before you did and went to sleep after.”

With a gentle hand, you straighten out the part in his hair, laying down the slight frizz from where his head was pressed into the pillow.

Levi looks at you for a long time, observing your tender gestures. He sees right through your words, and also sees the slight droop of your eyes, a hint of darkness beneath them. He thinks of you awake all night, petting his hair as he rests while you don’t, and brings a twinge of guilt to his heart. At the same time, his soul is utterly warmed and thankful. He’s not sure what to make of someone who’d do that for him.

He disregards your previous statement and instead addresses the obvious truth. “Don’t do that for me. You need sleep too.”

It draws a laugh from you. The way your eyes crease has his heart faltering. “I sleep more than enough, trust me.”

He peeks at you over the top of his tea cup, wishing he could freeze this moment in time, capturing how you look perfectly down to the miniscule curve of your lips so that he’ll never forget it. Maybe, he won’t have to.

He doesn’t need to ask because the answer is clear, but he does anyway.

“...Would you mind staying again tonight?”

[goingmorry]

Hellooo I love your writing soooo much >>•<<

Could you please write headcanons of ASL sister introducing Smoker as her fiancé ? Thank you so much !

[One Piece Headcanons] ASL Brothers -> when you introduce Smoker as your fiancé

Characters: Ace, Sabo, Luffy, Smoker

Tags: female reader, overprotective brothers

Author's Note: Thank you for the cute request! I got carried away and added short scenarios for each brother's reaction and a little extra at the end. I hope you like it! 💖

PORTGAS D. ACE

Goes from 😯 to 😡 to 🤬

Ace.exe has stopped working.

He's the 2nd Division Commander of the esteemed Whitebeard Pirates; who in their right mind would think it would be a good idea for him — the son of the late Pirate King — to meet a Marine Vice-Admiral?

Cue war flashbacks of when Garp showered him, Luffy, and Sabo with his "fists of love" for sharing their childhood dreams of becoming pirates.

Goes through all seven stages of grief and complains to Sabo every single time.

Threatens Smoker every chance he gets. The Marine Vice-Admiral repays in kind when you're not around.

Doesn't warm up to the idea of you and Smoker as a couple except on your wedding day.

"Behave yourself," you whisper to your fiancé, soft hands tightly gripping his muscular bicep in warning.

"I'm on my best behavior. It's your brother who needs to behave," Smoker says bluntly, brown eyes observing the freckled pirate's reaction to you and your beau's interlocked arms.

Ace stares, and stares, and stares — at his little sister and the familiar white-haired man he encountered early on during his journey to Alabasta — dumbfounded at the scene before him.

"Fire Fist," the Marine Vice-Admiral calls out, breaking him from his reverie.

"You—" Ace yells, flames erupting from the tips of his fingers to rapidly engulf his entire first.

Before your fiancé can return your fiery brother's sudden display of aggression, you step in between their bodies, eyes alight with fury.

"Stop it!" you scold Ace, extending your pointer finger and thumb to pinch his ear in retaliation.

He frowns at you, but obliges, flames extinguishing from his curled fist. "We need to talk. Now."

Not waiting for your response, Ace saunters off toward his bedroom at the other end of the hallway, posture stiff and robotic. To anyone, outsider or not, it was evident from Ace's appearance and demeanor that the usually friendly pirate was clearly not in a good mood.

"Just wait here. I won't be long," you say to Smoker before dashing off in pursuit of your freckled brother.

When you close the door to his bedroom, Ace begins his tirade, arms crossed against his bare chest as he faces your more petite frame.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

You look at him in bewilderment but don't say a word, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Him! That—that big oaf! There are millions of men in this world! And it has to be him? I don't approve!" Ace doesn't stop himself from frantically gesturing at the closed door — the only piece of barrier, aside from him, of course — separating you from your fiancé.

You frown at Ace's insult, adopting a defensive stance. "Don't call him that! And I don't need your permission, you know. Why are you acting like this?"

"You're my little sister! Of course, I'm concerned!" Ace adjusts himself from the desk he was leaning on. "Do you know what he's done to Luffy?"

You shakily exhale at his accusatory tone. "I know! We've talked about this. He's promised to look the other way when it comes to our family."

"And you believe him?"

"Of course, I do! He hasn't given me any reason to doubt him."

"He's not exactly husband material," Ace interjects, to which you roll your eyes. At this point, it was apparent to you that your big brother was grasping at straws, finding reasons — however shallow they may be — to make you reconsider this marriage.

"He dresses better than you, that's for sure," you say childishly.

Ace's eyebrows furrow, taking great offense to your statement. "What's wrong with the way I dress?"

"Have you seen yourself? You're always strutting around like you own the place. Shirtless and all," you comment, scrunching up your nose in disgust. "Have some common decency at least."

"He's not wearing a shirt either!" Ace says indignantly.

"No, but he has a jacket—"

"That he leaves open all the time, which basically makes it useless," Ace argues, "Why bother if you're not even gonna wear it properly?"

"Argh, forget it. I don't want to talk about this anymore," you say, burying your face in your hands.

Ace takes the hint, feeling guilty as he walks over to your defeated form to rub circles on your back slowly.

A truce, for now.

- - - - - - - - - -

Sometime later, when you return from Ace's bedroom, you find your fiancé calmly sitting on the corner of the couch. Without a word, you plop down beside him and rest your head on the crook of his shoulder.

Smoker takes a deep drag of his cigars, observing your distraught appearance and the lack of a certain cowboy-hat-wearing pirate. "Well, that went well."

SABO

Goes from 😟 to 😩 to 😭

Dies a little bit on the inside.

His precious little sister finally finds love, and who's her betrothed? The infamous White Hunter himself.

He expected this behavior from Ace, but you?

Discreetly pulls you aside to express his disapproval.

Learns to cope and eventually warms up to your relationship with the Marine. How can he not when you look so happy?

De-escalates arguments between Ace and your lover every single time.

"Sabo!" You pull your big brother into an embrace which he reciprocates.

When the blond Revolutionary notices the white-haired man standing behind you, he stiffens, gloved hand reaching behind his back to clasp his metal pipe.

Noticing your older brother's sudden alertness, you nudge his side in reassurance. "This is the fiancé I've been telling you about."

Sabo quickly puts two and two together. All those conversations you've had with him, and not once did you mention that you were engaged to an officer of the Marines. And not just any Marine officer, you were engaged to the Commander of the notorious G-5 base.

In an effort to remain composed, Sabo forces a half-hearted smile — appearing more like a grimace really, but an action you appreciated nonetheless - and extends his right arm to your fiancé for a handshake.

"Nice to meet you."

Ignoring the daggers you were glaring at the side of his face, Smoker hesitantly grips the blond Revolutionary's hand. "Pleasure," he grunts out, letting out a puff of white smoke from his cigars.

For a moment, the two men clasp at each other's hand in a show of fake camaraderie.

Choosing to ignore the growing tension thick in the air, you clap your hands together in mock enthusiasm.

"Great! Let's meet the rest of the family, shall we?"

MONKEY D. LUFFY

Goes from 😁 to 😊 to 🥳

The only one who's okay with your relationship with Smoker.

He's survived having Garp, the Hero of the Marines, as his grandfather; he can certainly handle an additional Marine in the family.

Gets along with your fiancé the best, though Smoker himself denies this.

"Woah, what's Smokey doing here?" Luffy says in awe, looking back and forth between you and the Marine.

You tap your feet in nervousness, gesturing between Smoker and your youngest brother.

"Luffy, this is my fiancé. Smoker, this is my little brother."

"I know who Straw Hat Luffy is," Smoker says impatiently, barely glancing at the pirate standing a few feet in front of him.

"You haven't been formally introduced to each other, have you?" you say indignantly, hips cocked to one side as you stare at your fiancé's tepid behavior.

"In a normal setting, I mean," you clarify, "You chasing him and his crew does NOT count."

Smoker shrugs at your accusation, and you sigh.

Luffy laughs at your scolding, looking up at the Marine. "It's okay. I meant what I said in Alabasta. I don't hate you, y'know?"

You smile at your little brother's statement. You could always count on Luffy to be accepting of your partner, whoever they may be. Also, he wasn't the type to dwell on the past, preferring instead to live in the moment. And that moment was your engagement to the Marine Vice-Admiral, the same man who used to hunt Luffy and his crew throughout the Grand Line for being wanted criminals.

'Tsk' is all Smoker says to the straw hat pirate's proclamation, earning a disapproving pinch to his side from you.

"Be nice," you whisper harshly to your fiancé's ear.

The sound of your little brother's joyous laughter is enough for the normally serious Marine to let out a small smile.

BONUS BELOW LMAO

MONKEY D. GARP

Goes from 😌 to 🥰 to 🤗

T H R I L L E D that his grandson-in-law is a respectable Marine.

The epitome of Proud Father Figure™

Compares the ASL brothers to Smoker every chance he gets during family reunions.

"Y'hear that Luffy? Smoker just caught a band of no-good pirates terrorizing the local townsfolk." Luffy picks his nose in acknowledgment.

Garp points an accusatory finger at Ace. "You damn brat, why couldn't you listen to me and become a Marine like I told you to?"

Garp gives a disapproving glare to Sabo. "And you! Why'd you have to join the shady Revolutionaries and become a wanted criminal like my son?"

Garp proceeds to give the ASL brothers multiple rounds of his fists of love. Meanwhile, he smooches your forehead in happiness for finding a suitable husband.

You and Smoker live happily ever after. The end.

[devilyn]

my last | tsukishima kei

— alexa, play: i wouldn’t know any better than you by gentle bones

I'll think of a place where I can meet you (meet you) To tell you all the reasons why I need you I won't mess it up again and leave you But I wouldn't know, I wouldn't know any better than you

— synopsis: you’ve become an expert at reading between the lines with tsukishima kei, until you absolutely can’t anymore.

— genre: more angst & happy endings, i love hurt/comfort lol.

— word count: 1.8k

"You're my first, you know."

Your eyes fluttered open, your gaze turning up to meet Tsukishima's. His fingers ran through your hair slowly, your head resting comfortably in his lap.

"Hm?" you questioned.

"Relationship," he responded simply. There was a look in his eyes that you couldn't quite identify, but he looked like he was seeing right past you. "Probably my last too."

You were quiet for a second before your hand reached out to gently brush over his cheek.

"If it were coming from anyone else, I'd say it's romantic," you teased. "but it's you, so what's wrong, Kei?"

His eyes seemed to refocus, dialing back into your reality.

"...I just don't think anyone else would be able to put up with me the way you do," his lips curled up into a familiar smirk, and you scoffed and rolled your eyes as he leaned down quickly.

Back then, you knew. You knew his real intentions, and the way he conveyed them in the way he kissed you after. 

He loved you more than anything else in the world--that’s what he meant. He’d never love anyone else the way he loved you. You learned to translate Tsukishima’s badly-phrased confessions after years of being by his side.

But now, that skill proved useless. Now, you were sitting in an empty apartment with your boyfriend nowhere in sight.

Tsukishima’s anger was usually silent, rarely explosive. Last night, it was different. Last night, he spat words that you knew he didn’t mean. And though you had become an expert at interpreting his true intentions, it didn’t stop the pain he inflicted.

“I just want you to come to this one event, Kei,” you pleaded, following him into your shared bathroom as he tossed his jacket onto the couch. “It’s my cousin’s wedding! I know you hate events like these but--”

“If you know, then stop begging,” he cut you off coldly, staring to pull his shirt over his head. “Out. I want to shower.” 

“Kei!” you cried out, standing in the bathroom doorway. You were growing increasingly frustrated.

“I’m a Division 2 professional volleyball player and a full time student,” he spat without even turning around to look at you. “Do I look like I sit at home all day like you?”

“Kei, you know that’s not even true,” you groaned, tugging at your hair in frustration.

“It’s not true?” he hissed, finally whirling around to glare at you. “What’re you doing when I’m at practice?” he angrily waved his arm around as if to motion at the space around him. “The apartment’s a mess, you always complain about not having enough time to do work, yet you spend most of your time sitting on your ass, and now you want me to take a day off to go to a stupid wedding I don’t even want to be at? Sorry the rest of us don’t laze around like you do.”

Somewhere deep down, you knew he was just tired. Tired, and irritated from a long day of classes and practice. But a voice in your head quietly asked if, maybe he was bottling this all up and finally telling the truth.

Still, he didn’t need to treat you this way.

“Baby,” you started slowly with a pet name, trying to stay calm despite the way your hands shook with contained anger. “You’re being mean, and you know it. My cousin’s getting married. If you can’t be my plus one, it’s alright.”

“Stop talking to me like I’m a child when we both know you’re the childish one here,” he scoffed.

“You’re the one acting like a child,” you snapped, no longer able to hold back. “I’m not saying your life is easy--you balance more than anyone else I know. All I’m saying is that this could be a break for you too and you could stop overworking yourself.”

“The only thing I need a break from is you,” he hissed under his breath. 

The silence that filtered through the small bathroom lingered until you hid a sob behind a choked laugh. The sound grated on his ears, and his heart started to sink.

He sighed, taking a step towards you, “Baby--”

“Shut the fuck up,” you cursed, instinctively taking a step back--away from him.

Tsukishima felt his heart growing heavier and heavier, especially now that your eyes were beginning to water.

You hated how much you loved him. You made sure to let him know between your loud sobs as you pushed him out of your shared apartment. Because you knew eventually, you’d forgive him.

That’s why he was knocking incessantly at the front door and bombarding your phone with calls you never picked up. Silently to yourself, you wondered where he slept last night, but the thought was quickly replaced with the memory of his harsh words.

“Don’t you think you’re too mean, sometimes?” you commented offhandedly one day while he was studying for his final exams.

“I’ve always been mean, and you knew it when you started dating me,” he responded absentmindedly.

“Yeah, but what if one day you’re too mean and you bully me until I cry?” you grinned as you watched your boyfriend furrow his brows at a difficult practice problem in his textbook. Mischievously, you lifted his arm so you could slip yourself into his lap, legs wrapping around his torso as you buried your face into the crook of his neck. “What will you do then?”

“Hey--Y/N I can’t study like this--”

“The question, Tsukki,” you teased, lifting your head up so he had no choice but to focus on the stupid grin tugging at your lips

“Don’t,” he stated simply, narrowing his eyes at you in response to your playful use of his nickname.

“Then, answer my question,” your hands came up to gently cup his cheeks, turning his gaze back up to your face. His gaze softened as his eyes scanned each one of your facial features.

“I’d apologize--”

“Tsukishima Kei would apologize?” you gasped playfully, and your boyfriend rolled his eyes.

“Then I won’t apologize,” he stated firmly before he dropped his pen and wrapped his arms tight around your waist. His face leaned forward quickly, peppering kisses all over your face.

“W-Wait--Kei!” you cried out between ticklish kisses, your laughter echoing throughout the living room. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Please!”

He grinned, a rare sight, before finally pulling back and allowing you to rest your forehead against his as you giggled.

“So? You’d apologize, and?”

“I’d apologize,” he repeated. “And I’d make sure you knew I never meant it, and that I would never hurt you like that again. Because I love you.”

You felt your face warming up, flustered by his sudden confession. Rarely did your boyfriend express his love through his words, and you could tell by his smug expression that he had done so intentionally to fluster you.

“H-How would I know you didn’t mean it?” you stammered, lifting your head up to avert your gaze.

“Mm, because you’re the only one for me?” his hand reached up to tilt your face back towards him, fingers gently pressing against your jaw. “Is that what you’d expect me to say?” he snickered.

Your smitten expression morphed into one of displeasure, and you swatted at his shoulder as he muffled his joyous laughs into his palm. Still, you couldn’t stay mad at him. Not when he was smiling so freely.

That vulnerability spoke on its own. You knew he meant it, when he jokingly said you were the only one for him.

“Baby,” you could hear his voice break, the sound muffled by your thin apartment door. The two of you always complained about how you could hear everything out in the hallways. This just meant that your neighbors could definitely hear the way he’d been pounding on your front door for the past hour. “Baby, you have to let me in. I need to explain, please.”

“I already know your explanation,” you finally called out, voice hoarse from an entire night of loud bawling. The knocking on the door finally stopped, and you were blessed with a brief moment of silence.

“I know, Kei,” your voice quivered, though no tears welled up in your tired, reddened eyes. “I know you didn’t mean what you said. You were tired from practice, and exams have been getting to you. I know you’re busy, it’s why you’re never home lately, and I understand.”

He was silent.

“I just...believed your words for a bit,” you laughed bitterly. “When I knew I shouldn’t have. So I pushed you away, even while knowing that mean words are your defense mechanism. I guess kicking you out was mine.”

A click, and the door handle turned. You groaned, burying your face into your hands and turning over on the couch so he wouldn’t have to see how swollen your eyes were.

“You had your key the whole time, and you decided to bother the neighbors for an entire hour instead?”

You listened to the door creak shut behind him.

“Wanted you to let me in on your own, but couldn’t wait anymore when you said something so dumb,” he responded, though he cursed quickly after. “Wait--no, you know I didn’t mean it like that--”

“Yeah,” you interrupted with a weak smile, back still facing him even as he approached you. “I know.”

The weight shifted as he placed himself next to you on the edge of the couch. Hesitantly, he reached forward and brushed your hair gently.

“...what I meant was that you shouldn’t blame yourself,” he murmured softly. “I was wrong for saying things I didn’t mean just because I was stressed.”

“They had to come from somewhere, Kei,” you sighed as you finally turned around to face him. His expression was conflicted--one you hadn’t seen on him before. “It’s not like you decided to accuse me of being lazy out of nowhere, you said way too much. It’s why I believed you for a minute.”

“I’m sorry, I really am,” his eyes softened at the sight of your broken expression. Reaching forward, his hand grazed over your tear-stained cheeks. “I know you work hard. Just because you don’t always overwhelm yourself with work at all times doesn’t mean you’re not working hard.”

Finally, you sat up and crawled into Tsukishima’s lap. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“You apologized. So what’s next?” you asked quietly as his arms circled around you to gently run his large palm across your back, soothing you.

“For the rest of my life, I’ll make sure you know I never meant what I said, and I’ll never do that again.”

“Because I’m your last?” you murmured, voice watery as tears slipped past your cheeks once again. He pulled you back slightly so he could brush his lips over your swollen eyes and wipe your tears away with his thumbs.

“Because you’re my last,” he confirmed with a weak smile. “Because I love you.”

And you believed him.