#I have ideas in my huge brain and I just Get the characters

[dicenete]

Hey, I'm rambling about IkePri again

Okay, I just need to get these thoughts I have about Gilbert von Obsidian out because I enjoy predicting stuff and overthinking design and narrative choices even tho they might not be right. :P But there really isn't that much predicting other than me overthinking about narrative and design choices. This time there will be most likely spoilers of Gilbert's route so far, and route of Clavis and some thoughts I have just gathered while playing the game in general. I try to put these thoughts in cohesive order, but well... I don't know if I can really, because I just need to get these out of my head. These are my thoughts, ramblings and opinions. Feel free to form your own and certainly disagree with me! I apologize about the lack of art in this post. I'm busy with work currently so no fanart for a while. I'm also not native English speaker, so there might be grammatical errors and such. Sorry about that. Everything under the cut.

To start with Ikemen Prince is a romance visual novel first and foremost. That doesn't mean it can't be deep (and it certainly has been deeper than I initially expect, which left me positively surprised). I suppose there is somesort of thematic vibe that there is no prince whose ideals are the main thesis of the game itself. But that also kinda leaves that fact there is no huge catharsis regarding the world and it's state. Everything so far has been left quite open. And the more I have learned about lore of the world, I really feel like anti-monarchist here xd Clavis really sold me the idea for real. Or atleast throw away the absolute monarchy. That's where I think things should go, but that's my own belief. (really, the last king of Rhodolite... He umm... I have some opinions.) Chevalier and Gilbert First things first: I don't hate or dislike Chevalier as a character. There are just some things that give me Deus Ex Machina feels. But I know it is what they are going for with him. This genius that so far ahead of everyone that it is so alien concept to rest of the people. And well that is a very hard concept to pull off without being a genius yourself as a writer. Or that is what I feel like. But what I do love is what the writers are doing with him and Gilbert in thematic sense! (Hence why Chev x Gilbert sounds so juicy to me)

I really took steps to the deep end as I started to think about why I have enjoyed Gilbert's route or was interested in his story to begin with, but have little interest in trying Chev's one. Because they are so similar but they really aren't.

How I would describe it is that where as Clavis is the complementary to Chev, the purple to his yellow, the emotionality vs rationality, the heart vs the brain, Gilbert is more like right brain to Chev's left brain. If it makes sense like that xd Their color schemes are harmonious. Not opposite. Almost like how Nokto and Licht's color schemes are harmonious with each others.

(Nokto (Blue + white + gold) vs Licht (Blue + black + gold)) Not to mention that their names clearly are meant to mean light and dark. (Licht: variant for light, Nokto: comes form latin nox or noctis, meaning night = dark) But that is a rambling for another time.) Both their crests are tigers. White and black tiger. Chev's color scheme is White + gold and black. Whereas Gilbert's is Black + gold and white. But then the overall color that game devs use to signal about the characters baffles me a bit. Gold/Yellow vs Black/dark red. They don't seem to have too much connection or that of which comes to my mind quickly and without digging deeper. (because I believe that if you dig deep enough, you have digged yourself into a trap of overthinking about things. (Justifying things because you want to justify them, which I'm not big fan of. And sometimes things don't need meaning and we have to live with that. As much as it pains my overthinker brain.)) But here is my impressions about Gilbert so far. I'm at the point where MC has left the Clavis's party (I loved it btw). Gilbert really does give me toxic INFJ villain feels, but let's not get too hang up on terms such as that. But he is someone who is driven forth by his own ideals and desire to change the world better. He, like Clavis, seems to cloak himself in this idea that he is the villain and is okay, even happy, to take that role. He is the one who, like Chevalier, has thrown away emotional attachment out of the window (or so they say) unlike Clavis who makes his choices based more on emotion rather than rational thinking. Maybe that's why I like Clavis and Gilbert, they push MC out of their black and white thinking. That things are not so easy peezy as "choose a right king and everyone will be happy". There will always be someone who is mad about it. That's why I really loved the scene with Gilbert with the orphaned kids and the Clavis's party. He seems to enjoy the company of children (who are not morally corrupted or tainted) and he really empathically listens to those who are angry. He believes in the idea that "no one remembers what you said, but they will always remember how you made them feel". (A quote with debatable origin, people say that it was coined by Maya Angelou. But I really love this quote, because I think it is the truth.) Gilbert isn't trying to rationalize against someone's choices with pure intellect. He uses empathy to guide him to the most rational outcome in that emotional scope. But he also uses this to manipulate people with fear. He uses fear extensively and he does it actively. Where as I feel like Chev just has that aura about him automatically. Hence my next thought: Action vs Stasis!

Gilbert and Clavis are action oriented. They shake the gameboard, they make the first moves. Gilbert probably more than Clavis. They both want change. Is it change for the better, we will see, I still haven't finished Gilbert's route but he really gives me this "I'm willing to become the greatest threat so that people unite to defeat me." or "I will conquer all so there will no longer be wars.". Chev, on the other hand, symbolizes stasis. His goal is to keep the kingdom of Rhodolite going. That's his duty and he is willing to take it. (even tho we can debate if that is something he really really believes in or even thinks about that much. I feel like it is out of obligation rather than of personal ideal. But alas, I have not played Chev's route yet.) Chev is reactive rather than proactive. He waits for the opponent to make the first move and reacts accordingly. (I'm not saying he is not reactive once game is on. More like "if there was not threat to deal with, he wouldn't create one".)

Chev doesn't care what you think about him. Gilbert does. He might seem like he doesn't but he is really there to prove a point. (I will pick up his dislike for lying later >.>) Chev is not. Chev knows that his way is the right way for him and that is enough for him. Chev also actively makes a "gettaway plan" for himself in Clavis. He knows that Clavis is the final thread that keeps him from going overboard because he understand that he has to be blind for "individual people" aspect to be a good ruler. Gilbert probably understands this about himself too, but he is trying to prove a point. So he needs to go overboard. Because masses of people need absolutes to react to. If it is something banal, it won't do. His evil actions need to shake the very foundation of ideas. The people have to face those things head on and see it for themselves. They cannot be sheltered. Gilbert gives me the vibes that he is willing to sacrifice himself not for the kingdom, but for the betterment of all mankind. He is happy to become the villain #1 if that means that other people will rise and take down the corrupted Obsidian or the corrupted idea. I would say that he is Lawful Good going on about things like Lawful Evil.

Gilbert asking questions means that he wants you to think, he wants to challenge your opinions and how you look at the world. Same as Clavis. They yearn for change. They want to change the world. Where as Chev wants to maintain things as they are. Chev "If it is not broken, we don't need to fix it" Michel. Where as Clavis and Gilbert want to improve the system. They are idealistic. Gilbert and lying

This is something very interesting. At first I thought that he was all "I dislike when people lie to me." but he really is "I dislike lying in all its forms." And he does say that he doesn't lie. And I'm starting to believe that is really the case. All the things he says are true. But because how other people see him, they are suspicious anyway. Like MC is. Like we all probably are when we start the route and think "So what is your trauma, baby girl?" When he is unsure or knows that he shouldn't say the thing he really thinks or that is true, he will deflect or give a very vague response. Which makes me quite happy to replay his route at somepoint with this in mind. In conclusion: Welcome to my TED talk, with no head or tail, just me overthinking about things about a otome gacha game. If you read this far, thank you for your time. Remember, if I ramble about it, it just means that I'm invested. Have a good day~

#me rambling about ikepri #dicenete rambles #ikepri #thoughts #gilbert von obsidian #clavis lelouch #chevalier michel #is this what they call a character study #or analysis #TED talk #ikemen prince

[sciderman]

YES SCI YES YOU GET IT

like. okay, i dont think david way's run was AMAZING. it was flawed!! i think it struggled a lot with the execution of its ideas especially since there wasn't more natural flow between the comedy and more serious aspects, they interfered with each other a lot. HOWEVER. if you ignore the execution and just look at the underlying concepts behind the stories in way's run you start to appreciate it. way had such cool and fun ideas (i may be cringe but i really do like "evil deadpool" as bad as that name is not necessarily as a character but conceptually and as a medium for wade to Work Through Shit) and i think he may be gets a bit too much shit for it.

(i do, however, hate that way's run was basically the only reference material used for the deadpool game bc they stripped any more serious moments and themes from the run and JUST did the lol random humor and did irreparable damage by painting deadpool the taco memes guy and nothing more)

((also i might reread way's run now too :] ))

oh i have THOUGHTS about the deadpool game

way's run had such an impact on deadpool's pop-culture presence and my god. i think it was the timing of it, being at peak rage-comic icanhascheeseburger meme era of the internet where people would share panels out-of-context for the haha funnies and so that kind of was just how people were exposed to deadpool. deadpool became like, the comic equivalent to like, trollface or something

it's kind of over now, we kind of have a more complex deadpool out there doing his deadpooliest - and i can't say i miss the era of 7 different deadpool books and all of them being cringe incarnate. but i do miss the playfulness of way's era of deadpool. i think duggan and poeshn literally. actively did everything they could to "normalise" wade. make him like everyone else.

get rid of the boxes ✔️ give him a wife ✔️ give him a kid ✔️ put him on the avengers roster ✔️

i don't know, it was kind of a huge endeavour to make him normal. he still had all his misery, sure, but it became a lot less fantastical and probably more...? relatable? to your average straight middle-aged guy. but i think it's a shame, because i do like fantastical. i think it's fun to get fantastical with it. these are fantastical characters. so i love the grand hallucinations and indecipherable nonsense. i love the creativity. i love not-normal.

i think wade is boring now. comics wade is boring. he's boring, he's cutesy, he's not the weird messed up problematic fave that i fell in love with. i miss the problematic parts of him, instead of him just being a pity-fest. i miss his weird brain. i don't know what's going on up in there anymore. maybe dua lipa's "dance the night" en loope, maybe that's all that's going on in wade's head right now. yeah.

#sci speaks #sci talks comics #deadpool

[anyoldfandom]

Sits and giggles and opens my computer ready to write my Pack Leader Rex AU fic and then stares blankly at the screen

#generator rex #genrex #IT'S BEEN RATTLING IN MY BRAIN FOR SO FUCKING LONG. I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS #Including thoughts for Biowulf Nation #If anyone wants to hear the thoughts I'll share them but trying to write an actual fic is just me with a lot of ideas for scenes #I just. Can't connect them. #But a HUGE part of this fic is based on how character interactions change and the found family gets bigger #And that requires a lot of scenes to show the dynamics

[monty-glasses-roxy]

*Adds two more animatronics to the list of previous animatronics of the Plex that now have an actual story* Winning.

#TWO of them!!! #one of the already had a vague story idea but I have a full one for him now!!! #and a full one for a previous Chica now too!! #two guys!!! #this chica is gonna haunt the fucking narrative!!! #we love her for that!!! #her impact is HUGE #AND she's given me a big starting point on who's next #I find it's easier to have a little idea and then to who their actions came from and then build that character too #so next on the list: a very old Plex Monty :) #I will get through them all eventually just you wait I just had a firework of IDEA explode in my brain #so. she's got a story now!!! hooray!!! the plex history deepens!!! #pop rox talks

[mooniyuta]

i will rue the day i got into danmei novels now i’m writing down this absolute disaster of a fic idea in my notes wangxian are so writable and cute they make me sick

#they’re also so angsty it’s making my brain go brr #basically not to spoil my own idea but yes the idea of an svss inspired au with transmigrator wwx has been possessing me #like a ghost at that!! imagine my sanity!! #anyways i tried writing down like a quick plot summary of it just to get it out of my brain #and that went sideways so fast i now have a 2k fic doc #that is like half actual prose and half hurried summarizing #ANYWAYS…… the idea of modern wwx being a huge fanboy of his favorite novel character lwj #and then being migrated TO lwj’s novel world shen yuan style and falling in love w him and fucking up the plot?? #yeah #it’s been getting me 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️ #this is just me ranting oops #just down terrible rn

[kareenvorbarra]

working on a Thick as Thieves timeline so I can properly outline the rest of my fanfic, and (big surprise) it’s turned into me basically just rereading the book

#damn this book is good #as i try to come up with stuff to fill in the gaps between what I already have written I can feel myself getting in even deeper lmao #the other day I was like. i might have to try to make naheelid a real character. even if it’s just a little bit #because he’s clearly this huge presence overshadowing nahuseresh’s whole life #and this whole fic is set in the palace and I’m envisioning nahuseresh and naheelid’s slaves and servants gossiping with each other a lot #so i feel like I need to have some idea of what his deal is even if he only appears briefly #meanwhile my brain just keeps generating backstory details for the girls that are probably not going to fit in the fic anywhere #fandom musings

[carakook]

🎀 A “Coquette” Misunderstanding 🎀

“Mmm… depends. You gonna let me put a real bow on your dick? Make it all cute and coquette?”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

♡Pairings: fuckboy!Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader

♡Synopsis: Jungkook has been a self proclaimed fuck boy after his last relationship ended fairly messily… until he met you. Started out as fuck buddies, but he always had a huge crush on you. With time, he realized that he’s actually falling in love with you, and he is itching to make you his girl. He knows being a fuck boy means he has to prove himself when it comes to being serious, so he comes up with the perfect gift to give you when he confesses… only for it to turn into the biggest fucking mess.

♡Genre: Romance/Comedy

♡Word count: 5k+

♡Warnings: 18+ for mature audiences only, MDNI, mentions of sex, lewd references, lots of talk about penises, talks of being in love (ew!!!), arguing, mentions of alcohol, no smut but this fic revolves heavily around sex, making out, Jungkook is kinda stupid (bless his lil heart), also kind of weird in general? Let me know if I miss anything!

♡Disclaimer: This story in no way reflects the characters of those who are mentioned. It is pure fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t take it seriously. Nothing is real in this story.

♡A/N: This is my first request! I hope whoever requested it likes it, it was supposed to be a Drabble but I got a lil carried away… oops! The request was fuck boy Jungkook falls in love with Y/N, but there’s a misunderstanding that eventually gets resolved and they live happily every after! I have no idea how I came up with this 😭 it’s kinda silly and kinda weird but I think it’s cute. I hope you guys like it. 😅

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Jungkook finds himself wondering if he can possibly get anymore fucking stupider than he feels right now.

It seems when it comes to you, he simply loses brain cells. He’s not sure what it is about you, but anything involving you short circuits his brain as of late, and he is continuously fucking things up.

Maybe it’s because you’re so fucking pretty. Maybe it’s because the way you look at him makes his knees weak. Maybe it’s simply because he’s a man, and men are stupid… Or maybe, it’s because he had the recent revelation that for the first time literal in years, he has caught feelings.

And what’s worse is that he’s realized this isn’t just a little crush. He’s fucking in love with you, and it’s making him forget how to function.

Jungkook doesn’t catch feelings, not since his last relationship ended very messily two years ago. The way the relationship ended left a very bad taste in his mouth, so he decided to go back to his college days of being a fuck boy and never falling in love again…

Which was working for some time. It was freeing to be able go back to his old ways; he could enjoy a woman’s body and worship them like the goddesses they are, and then wake up the next day without feeling any obligation… or anything at all, really.

Until you came along.

You had been friends for years, although you were never very close. He always thought you were one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen, but he also thought you were so out of his league. You weren’t the type of girl to go for fuck boys; you were put together and had very high standards, you knew your worth. He liked that, but never really had the guts to push it because he was sure he didn’t fit those standards.

That is, until one drunken night at one of Jimin’s parties… you flirted with him heavily. It was the biggest fucking ego boost that he ever had. He never assumed you would be interested in him, because his noncommittal habits weren’t a secret. But on this night you were very obviously interested in him. You were being touchy, and sweet, and you just looked so fucking pretty.

This was the first night you slept together, and Jungkook doesn’t like admitting that you unraveled him in a way no other woman had. The sex was mind blowing. He has never felt such intense chemistry with someone before… and fuck, you gave the best head he ever gotten. He was addicted after that, he knew he didn’t want it to be a one time thing.

He didn’t want to make you his girlfriend necessarily, good sex still wasn’t enough for him to consider being with someone seriously again… but he did want to see you again. The next morning he was bashful; made you breakfast, drew you a warm bath with essential oils and pretty smelling soap, and even ordered you a very last minute bouquet of flowers to wake up to.

This alone should have told him that things would be different with you, because although Jungkook always treated a woman with love and care when they gifted him their body for a night, he never went this out of his way to impress them.

He told himself it was because he felt the need to overcompensate. In bed he’s very confident, but out of bed, he’s not as sure of himself… especially with you. He felt lucky to have a night with you, and he knew he needed to put an effort in to keep you interested in him because he wasn’t exactly your type. If he was able to keep you interested, then maybe you’d see him again.

He was right, you didn’t normally go for fuck boys. Casual sex wasn’t exactly your favorite, because men often forget to focus on the woman, too. You weren’t exactly looking for anything serious, but you also weren’t looking to sleep with some guy who only cared about himself in bed. And most hookups you had thus far ended with you less than satisfied.

It was uncharacteristic for you to sleep with guys like Jungkook, or really give them any attention at all. But Jungkook has always been pretty, and he’s always been so fucking sweet… that night at the party, he looked extra appealing to you.

Even then, you weren’t planning on doing it again. The chemistry was undeniably intense, but you weren’t a fan of sharing. There were health risks to sharing partners if one of you weren’t careful, and you didn’t like that it made you question yourself. You tried it before, and it just wasn’t for you. You like exclusivity, and that’s ok. Everyone has preferences and boundaries and not everyone will agree with yours.

This is why you didn’t plan to see him again. But when you woke up and saw all the sweet little things he did for you, you were definitely tempted… what really got to you was how he fucking looked at you; he looked at you like a love sick fucking puppy and it was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen. He was adorable. You’d never been with a man who was so fucking sexy but also so goddamn cute at the same time.

No guy had gone through such trouble after what was supposed to be a one night stand before. It was like he really was a dog; he brought you these little gifts in the form of acts of service in the hopes you would continue giving him head pats. Or, actual head in this case…

And although he wasn’t actually love sick, he definitely was a bit pussy whipped.

Temptation won in the end.

There was no spoken agreement between you two… you just started having sex regularly. And every time it was fucking toe curling. No man took care of your body so perfectly and left you 100% satisfied. But beyond the sex, you both found that you thoroughly enjoyed being around each other. You’d never knew each other well before this, you were mere acquaintances who were familiar with each other because of mutual friends, but you grew closer and got to know each other as time went on, and in the end you kept it going.

Of course you were worried about his reputation, but you didn’t push him or even ask for exclusivity. He never explicitly said that he wouldn’t be exclusive with you, but you started liking him and the sex was enough to let go of that boundary and make an exception for him. You knew he was safe and you knew he would always treat you right. This was enough for you… even if it sometimes bothered you that you didn’t know whether he was sleeping around or not. He wasn’t your boyfriend, just a fuck buddy you grew fond of.

Little did you know, he had no desire to sleep with anyone else. You didn’t even need to tell him these boundaries, because he knew without you telling him. He wouldn’t dare do something to fuck this up. The sex was so good that he didn’t have the want for anyone else, he didn’t even think about it. He still wasn’t quite ready to be serious with someone, but he was content with you in a way that he never had been any of his previous hookups or fuck buddies. He wanted to keep you as long as you’d let him.

A routine started; as time went on you spent more time together, hung out often, and fucked like rabbits. You played with his hair and scratched his back, you picked on him and made fun of him in a way that made him laugh every time, and you knew exactly how to handle him even when he was a bit overwhelming. He was so content with what you both started.

Until recently.

Jungkook started realizing a few weeks ago that maybe having thoughts of an entire future with someone who’s only supposed to be your fuck buddy isn’t exactly normal. Sometimes he’d lay awake at night thinking of you for hours… he’d imagine taking you on actual dates, not just little outings disguised as friends hanging out. He’d imagine getting to brag about you being his girlfriend. But what really started to make it obvious was when he imagined what you’d look like in a wedding dress…

Five months in and he realized he’s falling for you. He’s so fucking gone for you, and for once, he’s giddy about it.

You’d both developed this sort of playful relationship. When you weren’t fucking, you were always joking around and making each other laugh. You both had a very crude sense of humor and so many little inside jokes. It was comfortable, and he started feeling like a kid on Christmas Day at the thought of keeping it going forever.

He wanted to ask you to be his girlfriend, but he knew you’d be hesitant because of his history. He wanted to do something for you that not only would prove to you he’s serious, but something that was special. He didn’t want to get you a piece of jewelry, or a bouquet of flowers with a card; he wanted it to be something only you would experience. He wanted to go all out for you.

He recalled a conversation you both had one time over dinner at his place while watching a drama. The guy in the drama was proposing to the main character, and it was as cliche as any other drama.

“That’s so cheesy. Why can’t guys be more creative? He’s asking her to spend fucking forever with him, more thought should go into it.”

“Yeah? Well if a guy proposed to you how would you want him to do it then?”

“I dunno… but not like that. Forever is a long fucking time, whoever decides to propose to me better do something more special than a damn ring.”

“But that’s literally what a guy is supposed to do, how else would he do it? You’re supposed to get the girl a ring and get on your knees n’ shit.”

“That’s so cliche though! I dunno, I’d rather something else… like maybe a dildo that was a replica of his dick. Something to the effect of ‘will you ride my dick forever?’”

That conversation ended in laughter of course, because you were only joking… but also, as Jungkook thought back on it, it would be so fucking perfect.

Not only would it show that he remembered the little things, but it would also break the stigma that he created for himself; it would show you that he was serious, he had no desire to be with anyone else sexually emotionally, and it would fit in with your playful dynamic. Like a little inside joke, and although he isn’t asking you to marry him, he wants the message to be clear that he wants to build a forever with you.

So he did some research. He original thought about getting you a dildo that was a replica of his dick, and found that there were DIY kits he could buy to make it himself. But also… why would you need a dildo if you had him? So he researched the more artistic aspect of things and found that there were actually a lot of artists who specialized in making replica sculptures of men and women’s body parts.

He liked this much more, because he felt it was a bit more sentimental and maybe more fitting. He found one artist in particular who’s sculptures and paintings looked very realistic. In their portfolio, they featured some comparisons of the pictures that inspired the sculpture vs. the sculpture they made, and there was barely a difference. They clearly had talent, and he was totally fine dropping however much money to get this done for you.

So he contacted the artist to order a commission. It was a hefty price, because he paid to have the process expedited. He wanted this done as soon as possible because he was practically shaking with excitement at the thought of asking you to be his girlfriend. But the price was worth it. The artist asked him some questions and listened to his requests. His only request was that it would be life sized, it would have a little pink bow wrapped around it (because you loved cute things, he remembers you called it ‘coquette’ once.), and somewhere it would have ‘Property of Y/N’ on it. The artist was confident that they could have it sculpted, shipped, and delivered by the end of the week. All the artist needed was a picture of his penis for reference.

Awkward, but understandable. It was very professional, obviously if he wanted the sculpture to look like his dick the artist would need a reference photo. This was purely for artistic purposes, it’s not like he was sending nudes or getting off on it. He was doing this for you and he couldn’t fucking wait to see the finished product or hear your little giggles when he presents it to you.

But of course, in his excitement, he fucks up exponentially.

He was supposed to email the photo of his dick to the artist. So he has no fucking idea why after he took the photo, he texted it to you… probably because subconsciously, who the fuck else would he be sending pictures of his dick to? He’s not even the kind of guy to send nudes, but he has a few times with you on nights that you’re both too busy to actually meet up and have sex.

He could’ve just played it off and said something stupid like ‘surprise’, but he immediately panicked because he was afraid you’d figure out what he’s doing. Which is so fucking stupid because how the fuck would you ever guess what he’s doing?

So what does he do instead?

He handled it very poorly, to say the least. He didn’t know what the fuck to do, and he had no idea why the told you he sent it to the wrong person. It was because it was the truth, that’s why. He didn’t really think anything of it when he admitted he sent it to the wrong person, because he had a clear conscious. Why lie when he has a clear conscious?

He panicked not because he was guilty, but because he was scared that you would catch on and the surprise would be ruined… which is so fucking stupid. Out of everything, you couldn’t possibly guess what he was doing.

He didn’t think about the implications of telling you that it was the wrong person, and it just went downhill from there. He really should have just told you the truth in that moment, but he doubts you would have believed him. The story would seem far fetched at this point because of how vague he was being in the beginning.

And you really didn’t believe him. You trusted Jungkook, but that message reminded you that you aren’t exclusive with him. He isn’t your boyfriend. He has a reputation of being a fuck boy and he’s just your fuck buddy. So it wouldn’t have been a surprise if he really was messing around with other girls considering he technically has every right to… but it still stung.

If he had come out and admitted it was meant for another girl, you would have probably been a bit bitchy about it, but you wouldn’t have fought with him over it. He has the right to see other people when you both never agreed to only see each other. It was that feeling of being lied to that set you off, you fucking hate being lied to. You have your fair share of history involving men who lie, and although you made an exception on one of your boundaries for Jungkook, you refused to make an exception on being lied to for any man.

And even though he wasn’t actually lying, how the fuck would you have known that? He’s right, if he did send you some elaborate paragraph about what the picture was actually for, and how he just instinctively sent it to you after taking it, you probably wouldn’t have believed him after he denied it so vaguely like he did.

For days he tried to talk to you. He blew up your phone, called and texted hundreds of times, blew up your Instagram notifications, and even started fucking making tweets on Twitter begging you to talk to him and let him explain (dramatic as fuck, his friends made fun of him for it, and he didn’t care because he was desperate.) You ignored him, of course, because deep down you were a bit hurt. You really couldn’t stand the thought that we was sending nudes to someone else, possibly fucking them, and then lying to you about it.

It reminds you as to why you have the boundary of exclusivity… and also makes you realize that maybe you like Jungkook a little more than you thought you did.

He’s a mess. He kept debating whether or not to just show up to your place, get on his knees and beg you to listen to him… but he knew you wouldn’t let him in, not unless he had proof of what actually happened. He feels so goddamn stupid. He could easily show up and show you the email as proof, explain his thought process and what the picture was for, what he was doing, confess that he’s fucking in love with you and wanted to do something to show you how serious he is…

But he decides to give you space. He knows that it’s unlikely you want to listen to him or see him right now, and he needs to let you cool off. By the time the sculpture is delivered, he can show up, explain himself, and do everything as planned.

It’s the longest fucking week of his life. His thoughts are consumed with you and he prays that when he does show up, it isn’t too late, and you’ll let him explain himself.

That you’ll say yes after it’s all said and done.

The next Friday, he receives the package. He nearly fumbles with it as he opens it, wanting to get this shit over with so you guys will be ok again.

Just as expected, it’s perfect. It’s obviously not the exact same as his dick, but it’s pretty fucking close. It looks exactly as you would expect a sculpture of a dick to look like. The bow that was sculpted onto it is perfect, pink and detailed, wrapped between the tip of the sculpted dick and the base. At the very bottom of the base, in tiny cursive letters reads ‘Property of Y/N’. He thinks it’s perfect, and if you find it in yourself to hear him out, he knows you’ll love it. He can already imagine your cheeks getting pink as you giggle at the absurd gesture.

He gets himself ready. He puts on some cologne, brushes his teeth, stares at himself in the mirror a little too long trying to psych himself up. He knows showing up without warning is probably not the best way to go, but he hopes that once you open the door and see him bearing gifts, you’ll be more open to listening to what he has to say.

He makes a stop on his way to your place because he impulsively decides to buy you some flowers and a cute gift box for the sculpture. He’s in a rush because he feels like he’s dying on the inside with you so upset at him. When he gets the flowers, he just stuffs a wad of cash in the florists hand before running back off to his car. He probably overpaid for them… but he doesn’t care.

He makes quick work of putting the sculpture inside of the pink box he picked out, adds a matching pink bow for good measure. Once he’s satisfied, he carefully placed the flowers and the gift box in his front seat, and nearly peels out of the parking lot in a hurry to get to you.

You’ve been sulking all damn week, because you miss him. At first you were pissed, because you swore he was lying, he just had to be. Why else would he be sending dick pics to someone? But as the week went on, you did start to question yourself. Because Jungkook had never given you a reason to not trust him, and despite that fact that neither of you have ever explicitly said it was exclusive… you know that it is.

Because when you’re both in a room full of people, his eyes never stray. When he tells one of his stupid jokes, the first person he looks for a reaction in is you. When he goes to the grocery store, despite you not living together, he always stocks up on your favs. And every morning and every night, no matter what, you are the first and last person he talks to. The little things tell you everything you need to know.

Even now, after he stopped blowing your phone up because you continued to ignore him, he made sure to text you good morning and goodnight.

So why would he lie? Why would he lie when all of the signs are there that you are his sole focus? You may be unaware of how deep his feelings are for you, but the little things show where his loyalties lay.

It’s just so hard to believe him because you can’t possibly fathom who else he could be sending nudes to, and if the reason wasn’t sexual, then why? You don’t exactly send pictures of your genitals to someone for casual or platonic reasons, so…

You’re sitting on your couch watching TV and pouting when he knocks at your door. You aren’t expecting anyone, so you have a feeling it’s him… you debate not answering the door, but in the end you do, because you’re just as irritable without him as he is you.

You open the door and keep a neutral expression on your face, you see him standing there with those same love sick puppy eyes and you nearly fold right then and there.

He’s holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a fairly large pink box with a bow on top. So he came prepared, it seems. You don’t know whether to be flattered or offended at the supposed bribe, but you keep an open mind.

“What do you want?” You say cooly… as if you’re not going to let him in anyway.

“Y/N can we please talk? I know you hate me right now, but please just let me explain myself. I swear this is all just a really big and stupid misunderstanding.”

He has no idea what’s going on in your head right now because you seem so calm, so collected. He wishes he could be like you, because if you don’t let him in, he swears he’s gonna cry and bang on your door until you let him. He’s not above throwing a fit at this point.

You stand there for a moment staring at him, making it seem as if you’re skeptical… but really, you just missed his pretty face.

“Fine.”

You open your door for him and he nearly fucking pushes you down when he barges his way in, afraid you’re going to change your mind.

He makes his way to your couch and sits down, pats the spot next to him and sits the gift box down on your coffee table along with the flowers.

“These are for you… open it first.”

You cross your arms and scoff at him, don’t sit down yet. You start to wonder if he’s avoiding actually explaining, wanting to butter you up first so that you’ll be more willing to forgive him.

“What? No, explain why you lied about sending—“

He holds his hand up to stop you from speaking, “Dammit, Y/N, open the damn gift first. You need to see it in order for me to explain. Please.”

You huff at him in response, because it’s kinda hot when he talks to you like that… but now is not the time to get hot and bothered. You don’t even know what his supposed ‘explanation’ is or if it’s something you’re willing to forgive.

You do listen to him though, you take a seat on the couch and grab the pink box. You take off the bow, which you love, and you carefully open up the box to reveal…

A penis. Hm.

You take it out and start inspecting it… you don’t know how to feel yet. You’ve been sleeping with him for months, you both know each others bodies very intimately, so you can immediately tell that it is indeed his dick, specifically because of the little heart shaped freckle down the shaft. You notice the bow that’s sculpted into it too, and you find yourself giggling at it without meaning to. Just like he thought you would. The entire gesture makes your cheeks warm. Such an odd fucking gift, but you already love it.

You turn it over, and you see at the base of it right above the testicles of the sculpture, in cute little letters ‘Property of Y/N’.

As weird as it is, you find the gesture so fucking cute… but you also don’t understand it. You don’t understand why he just gave you a coquette sculpture of his dick, what this has to do with the dick pic, and why it says property of Y/N, because that’s a very serious thing to put on a sculpture of his dick that he just have to you.

Before you gush over how much you love the silly thing, you ask wearily, “Ok… but like… what does this have to do with anything?”

Jungkook let’s out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in and his heart pounds because he’s so fucking thankful you seem to be open to hearing him out.

He begins explaining hesitantly, “Yeah, right, so umm… lately I’ve been thinking… about us. And I sort of realized that I… like you. Like, a lot. Not just the sex or the whole fuck buddy thing, but I really fucking like you as a person Y/N.”

Now your heart is pounding because you genuinely didn’t expect this confession. Which in return, makes you impatient… because you like him too. But you can’t tell him that until you figure out what the fuck happened with the dick pic and wether or not you need to stop this before it starts, or forgive him, or even apologize for not letting him explain.

“Ok but what does that have to do—“

“I’m getting to that. Just… ugh, shut up, this is embarrassing.”

He looks away from you and starts biting at his lip ring. You feel kinda bad, because he really does look embarrassed about it. But oh, it is so fucking cute…

You nod at him and lean back into the couch, the sculpture in your lap as you silently agree to let him continue and try to keep your impatience in check.

He reluctantly continues, “After realizing this, I wanted to… tell you. Wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend. But I didn’t want to be cliche about it, I remember us talking about it before… so I wanted to do something special… something only for you.”

He lets out a breathy laugh and squeezes his eyes shut, because he starts overthinking a bit. He wanted to to something special for you, so he got a fucking sculpture of his dick made… ridiculous train of thought. Such a fuck boy thing to do.

“I remembered you making a joke about how if a guy proposes, you’d want it to be with something other than a ring… and I’m not proposing! But you know, it’s similar so… yeah. Fuck. Anyway, I did some research and found out that apparently dick sculpting is a type of art? And my dumb ass thought that was perfect…”

He chances a glance at you, looking up from his lashes as he sits forward and rests his elbows on his knees. So far, you seem receptive of the story… you don’t seem to be suspicious of him yet. Thank fuck.

“I commissioned an artist to make a sculpture of… my dick. For you. And they needed a picture for reference… it was all very professional. But when I took the picture, I guess I just automatically sent it to you, because I don’t do that shit with anyone else. So I didn’t think. But when I realized I texted it to you, instead of emailing it to the artist… I told the truth because I didn’t think about the implications. And I did a very fucking bad job at attempting to explain when you did start questioning it. That’s my bad…”

It’s slowly starting to make sense. The story is a bit… far fetched. But it’s so far fetched that you highly doubt Jungkook would have gone through the trouble to actually commission an artist and drop who knows how much on this sculpture just to save his ass. It may be a very specific situation, an original experience, if you will… but the proof is in the pudding, and you can tell by the look on his face that he isn’t lying.

“I should’ve just told you what happened but I doubted you’d believe me after how badly I fumbled. So I waited for the damn thing to show up. I can show you the emails back and forth with the artist and stuff too if you want… but Y/N I swear I wouldn’t lie about something like that. I haven’t fucked or even looked at another woman since we started messing around… don’t want to. Only want you. So please believe me.”

He looks at you with pleading eyes, and gives you a small pitiful smile. You do believe him. You really didn’t have any reason not to to begin with, but the miscommunication prevented you from seeing that.

It really was just some very stupid misunderstanding.

You say nothing. Instead, you set the sculpture down carefully, and you scoot closer to him. You grab his face gently, and lean in to kiss him.

Fuck. He missed your lips so bad.

He immediately kisses you back, damn near whines at how good it feels to have you again. To see that you aren’t rejecting his explanation or refusing to trust him, but you’re forgiving him. He kisses you back sweetly, one of his hands coming to the nape of your neck while the other cradles your jaw.

You pull back and murmur, “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. Was stupid of me. Forgive me.”

He smiles so fucking stupidly at this and nudges his nose against yours. He starts peppering your face with little kisses as he says, “Forgive me for being a fucking idiot…”

One last huge smooch to your forehead, and he pulls you into his lap. He feels so much more lighter now that things are cleared up. God, he wants to fucking laugh at how absurd it all is. All week he started to regret ever choosing to get a sculpture made of his fucking penis as a way to ask you to be his damn girlfriend… who the fuck does that?

Him, apparently. And he started wishing he fucking didn’t.

But seeing you now, seeing how you’re smiling at him with the same adoration in your eyes as him, he’s thankful he did it. Sure, was a very odd gift to get you… but it suits your dynamic perfectly. And the way you giggled at it bashfully, he knows you absolutely loved it.

He reaches down and squeezes your ass as you sit on his lap, not trying to initiate anything, just wanting to touch you. He stares at you in silence for a moment, because a week away from your pretty face was far too much.

He flicks his lip ring with his tongue before asking, “So… does that mean you’ll be my girlfriend then…?”

He doesn’t mean to sound so awkward when he asks, but he’s nervous that you’ll say no because you didn’t really say anything when he explained earlier…

Stupid boy, can’t he see how much you fucking adore him? Of course you’ll say yes.

But even then, you hum in response as your hands reach up to play with his hair, as if you’re mulling it over and considering your options.

“Mmm… depends. You gonna let me put a real bow on your dick? Make it all cute and coquette?”

“Yes.”

He doesn’t even hesitate. Of course he will. Fucking anything you want if that means you’ll be his girlfriend, if you’ll let him love you and fuck you and take care of you for what he hopes is forever. And honestly, the thought of you putting a bow on his dick weirdly turns him on.

You giggle at him, lean in and press your lips against his again. You kiss him once more, a bit more tongue this time just so you can hear him pant and feel his heart beat faster against your chest.

When you finally come up for air, you say against his lips, “Then yes. I’ll be your girlfriend.”

He lets out a breathy laugh, was nervous you were going to say no. But you didn’t. And he has never felt so fucking excited or proud about something, he swears.

He can actually say that you’re his girl now. Thank god for his coquette dick.

#bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook #jungkook angst #bts fanfction #bts imagines #18+ only #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #i love jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook cute

[its-your-mind]

ALWAYS rotating TAZ: Balance around in my brain like microwave but ESPECIALLY with the announcement of The Suffering Game graphic novel

The dope thing they can do (and are doing) with the graphic novel series is sprinkle in moments of foreshadowing and hints to the reader about what REALLY might be going on here, which is so cool and I’m a huge fan of it, especially when you’re telling a story in this form.

But what is REALLY FUCKING TASTY about Balance as a story is that none of the motherfuckers telling it had any clue what they were doing when they started

Gerblins is dick jokes and not knowing how dice work and making fun of each other for voices. LICHRALLY the scene where Taako grabs the Umbrastaff is immediately proceeded by Clint trying different voices for Merle while Justin begs him to stop, as Taako. Merle gets launched across the room cuz he failed his save, and now Taako has an umbrella. The scene moves on.

Griffin brought them up to the BOB, introduced them to the Director, and gave them memories of a war fought over nameless, lost, powerful but mysterious artifacts. The memory that Taako takes from it is the idea of soured cream (ya know, for his taco quest).

And then they’re off, on different adventures, making friends, saving lives, making more dick jokes, and Griffin is in the background, slowly building in the meta-plot, as all DMs do.

But this meta-plot was HUGE. It was ALL-CONSUMING. It completely changes everything we know about this world and these characters. It takes the moments of dick jokes, and arguments about character voices, and flirting with death, and adds a layer of tragedy and complexity that just wasn’t present the first time they told that story.

AND THAT’S WHY THIS STORY KICKS ASS. The vibe of the story changed as Tres Horny Boys grew closer and closer to remembering the lives they had lost, as Griffin upped the stakes, as people started dying. They still don’t know shit for most of The Suffering Game, but you absolutely could not have predicted the tone of that arc after just listening to Gerblins. It sounds like a completely different story. And so when the other shoe drops, when shit breaks bad, when it’s the end of the world… again, and they have to reclaim their Stolen Century…

It makes sense. The tone has shifted enough to accommodate that kind of change. The characters have grown (back) into themselves enough to make this work.

Because TAZ: Balance is a tragedy. But the tragedy happened before the podcast even started, and had been erased. So of course it started off with goofs and dildo jokes. Of course the three of them started being standoff-ish with each other and making light of every situation that should have had a lot more weight. They didn’t know what they had lost, and we, the audience, didn’t either. So it was easy to laugh and joke… until slowly, it wasn’t so much anymore.

Plenty of people have praised Griffin’s storytelling abilities, but I think the thing that was most impressive to me was how he took the disparate threads laid out behind the Boys on their adventures, and followed them backwards, into the story they had lost, and forwards, into the ending they earned. I fucking love that he settled on Istus as the deity to interact with them, because I don’t think there’s a better representation of the story Griffin was weaving behind the scenes of the arcs.

Story and Song wasn’t really an arc driven by dice rolls and role playing - but it wasn’t railroading either. Griffin took every story they had told, every happy ending they had fought for, and twined them around and through each other. The world was saved not because of a lucky nat 20 roll, but because every person they had helped through the story came out in force to fight beside them to save their world.

And so in the end, the Stolen Century was a tragedy. But The Adventure Zone: Balance was a story of hope, of family, of the power that just a few loveable doofuses can have when they move through the world, making friends and saving lives. So when the world was ending and they needed help, there were dozens of people waiting to hear the Story and the Song that would give them the push they needed to fight, and the hope they needed to win.

#taz #taz balance #taz balance spoilers #taako adventurezone #merle highchurch #magnus burnsides #McElroys #griffin mcelroy #the adventure zone

[lowkeyremi]

JJK CHARACTERS AND THEIR ICKS

basically things they do that make you upset. this is a joke so please do not attack me. y'all already know i never miss a chance to slander gojo!!! credit to my sweet mutual lene (@satorisoup) for giving me this idea!!! GO READ HER'S (if you're into haikyuu)

Gojo

PLEASE. He 100% leaves his clothes on the floor and it really grates your nerve when the hamper is RIGHT THERE!!! and he just leaves them right in front of it. It's so embarrassing when you have guests over and they just pull a dirty sock from between the couch cushions.

Yuji

I love him but I just KNOW he leaves toothpaste in the sink. It's like he doesn't understand the concept of rinsing the sink out after you brush your teeth. You'll finally be making your way into the bathroom to brush your teeth and there's dried spit and toothpaste in the sink.

Megumi

Always. talks. back. It does not matter he always has something to say. "Well you could have just taken out the trash like I asked you to." and he'll say something snarky like, "Maybe if you weren't so soft spoken I would have heard you." BOY SHUT UP BEFORE YOU GET SLAPPED.

Geto

He is a HUGE gossip. "Mimiko was telling me about xyz yesterday." He just doesn't know when to shut up. People think Geto is a very quiet and kept to himself kind of person but when he knows you he will not stop talking shit.

Toji

There are so many things I could say but the worst of them all is the fact that he will wear the same pair of underwear more than twice. "Toji... are those the same fucking boxers you had on Thursday?" You can see the hem line of his boxers and it looks like the same pair from Thursday. He sets down his cup, "Uh, probably. What's today?" ... "IT'S SUNDAY. JUST WASH YOUR CLOTHES!"

Nanami

He's overbearing with tasks. He forgets that you know how to do things and will bug you until he knows you've done them. "Don't forget to take your car to get an oil change soon." You nod.

A few hours later when he returns home, "Have you gone down to get the oil ch-"

"Kento! The love of my life. I know. I'm going tomorrow." ... "Oh, okay. I'm sorry."

Nobara

Leaves her plate/bowl/etc on the table. You've reminded her on multiple occasions that she needs to do it but she just forgets. "Food was great!" She yells with a smile. In no time she's up from the table sprinting to the living room. "Nobara.. your plate." She freezes, "Oh shit right. I'll get it!"

Maki

She snores. It's not the cute kind either, it's the loud obnoxious kind that prevents you from sleeping. You've tried to get her to change her sleeping posture and find other ways to help but it does. not. matter. By the end of the night she will be holding you close. Your back pressed against her front and loud snores ringing in your ear.

Inumaki

Never gives you any kind of warning when he's going to fart he just does it. HE KNOWS they're a lethal weapon but finds it funny whenever you're screaming at him and gasping for air. God forbid he ever farts while you two are in bed because a dutch oven from him is probably enough to kill you.

Shoko

She laughs whenever you trip or get hurt in any kind of way. She doesn't even mean it she just does it. Like say she sees that the pavement is uneven she doesn't say anything and watches you trip, just to laugh about it. "Okay okay okay, I'm so *giggle* sorry. I should have said something, let me help you up."

Sukuna

Thinks because he's lived for a long time he knows everything and then he gets mad when, "This stupid little talking box won't work." (his phone) "This shit is broken again." He complains throwing it to you. "Dude.. it's powered off. 'Mr. I Know Everything.'" He rolls his eyes at you, "I do know everything you shit for brains." You scoff, "See if I ever help you turn on your 'talking box' again."

Choso

He's always second guessing you. He doesn't even realize it either. The two of you will be driving and he's like, "Are you sure you know where we're going? Should I pull up GPS." YOU KNOW WHERE YOU'RE GOING CHILL. He's just really cautious though which is why he asks a million times.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #yuji x reader #megumi x reader #toji x reader #nanami x reader #nobara x reader #maki zenin x reader #shoko x reader #sukuna x reader #choso x reader

[bigfatbimbo]

I have a post sex angst idea for you (with Vox ofc !)

Imagine after you’ve been particularly cruel to Vox you get up to get water or something but he stays right where he is, still crying.

You end up having to sit back down, reassuring him that you weren’t being serious and that you do love him.

Giving him all the praise and soft kisses he could ask for.

This might be stupid but due to his huge ego he probably would get a little touchy at being degraded after a while.

thanks for listening to my insane ramblings 🙏😭🫶

warnings —mentions of smut, dom reader implied, hurt/comfort, light angst, kinda just fluffy though

a/n — I’m loosing touch with these characters. I have like one fic left in me, at best.

summary — After being a little too mean to Vox after sex, and making him cry, you have to give him loads of comfort.

Usually, you waited a little longer before getting up and leaving him on the bed. But, tonight specifically, he looked so genuinely worn out you figured it was common curtsy to offer him a glass of water. Especially after how you treated him.

He’d look so pretty, tears still leaking out of his face as he sniffled and fought to calm down from his euphoric headspace. When you kissed him on the head and told him you’d be back, he didn’t really pay attention.

Instead, he lied there halfheartedly and thought about what you’d said just moments before. You were especially mean tonight. So mean thats he’d forgotten what the initial punishment was for in the first place. But now that the ecstasy wore off, he’d was simply left with all of your cruel words flooding through his brain.

It wasn’t fair, he thought. You’d been so mean, and you’d said so many untrue things! But despite Vox not fully believing your words, the idea that you believed them was far worse. The haunting thought that you hated him, that you pitied him and that’s why you’re still here. He couldn’t stand that.

Maybe it was the mildly incoherent mindset he currently had, or maybe he was overwhelmed, or, fuck, maybe he just missed your warmth. But, for whatever reason, more tears streamed down his screen as he sat there in defeat. 

When you arrived back in the room, you simply stared at Vox for a moment, taking in the view. He was still crying. You get during sex, but this long after? Something was wrong. 

“Sweetie, are you okay?” You ask gently, setting the water glass down and sitting on the bed, “Did I hurt you?”

It was true, you had been particularly rough with him, but he looked further hurt than a physical sense. 

He shook his head, “You, uhm,” he struggled to keep his voice steady, “Called me pathetic. And useless. You don’t really mean—“

He cuts himself off by a loud buffer and then an even louder sob. You don’t respond at first, just quietly tutting and pulling him into your chest.

“My baby,” you coo sadly, rubbing your hands up his shoulders comfortingly as he buries his screen in the space under your neck and clings onto your side, “My sweet boy, of course not. I didn’t mean any of that. You’re amazing.”

He sobbed harder at that, the shock of praise getting to him obviously. You continued to rub his aching body softly, pressing down on his tense shoulders and scratching his back. 

“You took it all so well, i’m so proud of you, Vox” You pressed your lips onto the top of his screen and he looked up at you, letting out a watery whimper. 

“You said you hated me,” Vox’s eyes darted down and his mouth curled back to let out another chocked sob. “You sounded like you meant it. You don’t hate me, right? Not like—“

Not like everyone else, he meant to say. Instead, he cut himself off and glanced up at you awaiting your reassurance.

Your hands fell on either side of his screen and you pressed your lips against his. “I love you more than anything in the world.” You moved to  kiss his cheek, and then his chin, and then his other cheek, purposely making the kisses as unbearably wet as possible.

He let out small giggles at the sensation, “Stop it, stop it!” He pulls his face away to hide it in your chest, his tears finally slowing down.

“Well, I mean it, sweetheart. I think you’re the prettiest, smartest, most amazing, beautiful, boy on the world. I love you,” You feel his screen heat up on your collarbone and you rub his back some more. 

“Thank you,” Vox spoke uncharacteristically soft, probably embarrassed from his outburst now that his mindset was clearer. 

“Of course, baby,” You said, noting to go easy on him the next time you fucked. Maybe you’d be more praising too. After all, it was true. You meant it. 

a/n — I think this is officially one of my last posts in this fandom. Or at least full drabbles.

I know that i’m still going to do a power bottom Velvette fic, but after that, I think i might be done!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #dom reader #inbox open #hazbin hotel vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel fluff #vox smut #vox x you #sub vox

[that-student-that-has-homework]

Matching - Portgas D. Ace

Find more of my work here: Tumblr MasterList

This is a little idea I had for a larger Ace fanfic I'm working on. I might revise this! Please let me know if he's in character or not...I'm starting to have my doubts.

It had been the better part of a week. No, maybe a whole week at this point. While before you’d spend most of your free time around him, now you were constantly “busy.” Heck sometimes he even finds it difficult to find you on the Moby Dick! Was this the end of the honeymoon phase everyone warned him about?

Were you starting to get tired of him?

You kept sneaking around...without him! Before you used to sneak around together! Worse still is…every time he pops up to see you, you always seem like you're hiding something. It's like quickly stashed papers, and tightly clenched fists. It’s the way you spin on your heel, and tense up, when you used to not do that at all.

What was maddening was how when the evenings would hit, or even at random parts of the day, you’d run and crash into him with a huge hug. You’d beam at him bright and genuine just upon seeing him, heck you’d be practically vibrating with joy as you’d squeeze the life out of him. He’d almost turned to fire once.

Maybe you weren’t tired of him?

When you did cuddle with him, your eyes seemed to linger on the tattoo on his arm. He’d even woken up to you tracing it with your finger once before. You’d looked sheepish that he’d caught you admiring it…actually you looked a little…panicked too…

You’d squirmed in his grasp when he asked you about it. Saying things like how it’s pretty, and how it’s a tattoo unique to him, so you were admiring it. You're pretty good at dodging his line of questioning whenever he voices his suspicions about your behavior. You were also incredibly sneaky about distracting him with your affections, and by the time he’s regained his original line of thought, you’d already be gone. 

There's something fishy in the air and it's not the sea king he caught the other day.

He only finds out what it is you'd been scheming behind his back when he gets back from a mission. He was so distracted for most of it. He couldn’t figure out why you were so clearly avoiding him sometimes…were you having second thoughts? What was going on? Was this an elaborate prank?

He was still in a daze as he made his way back to the Moby Dick. You used to bring peace, yet right now you’d thrown him into turmoil. He hated the way he was doubting you. He hated not knowing what was wrong.

“Hey look Ace’s back!”

“How’d it go champ?”

“Aaaaaaacee!” It was your voice that pulled him back completely.

He’d barely had a moment to look up than you’d thrown yourself on him with a hug. The force of it all almost send him toppling backwards. His hat had been knocked off his head, and he could feel the press of its medallion on his throat. He's relieved at how genuinely happy you are to see him, yet still an unease twists up his stomach in knots.

You pull away much too quickly, pulling his arms and rotating them, checking for any damage. The way you're checking up on him to make sure he's not hurt and that he's okay floods his entire system with warmth. Yet he can't help the constriction in his chest and the nagging as to what it was that had you sneaking around before he left if you missed him this badly?

He can hear the crew laughing at the obvious display of affection.

“Being bold there little missy,” they taunt you.

You shrink in on yourself a bit, embarrassment catching up to you. However when you take his hand in yours, and whistles and cheers break out, “I was doing it for Ace,” the timidity in the lines of your shoulders and face brings the heat to his own face, “I thought he might like it.”

He squeezes your hand in his. Yet his brain screams at him, then what was all that sneaking around about?

Unsure how to deal with things, he just studies you closely as you ask him about how things went and how the mission was. You're not up to anything really, or at least it doesn't seem like it. You're as attentive and engaged as ever, things are just as they used to be before.

You drag him to the kitchen, knowing he must be hungry as he usually is after a mission. You even sit with him in your little corner of the mess hall while he eats, something you hadn’t done much prior to his departure. He's talking to you about the guy with the interesting abilities that he'd fought with his mouth full, and you're indulging him.

Yet even as he tries to fall into your old pattern, the confusion only festers further. What had been going on with you?

He feels absolutely awful, doubting you with the way you’re listening to him like he's the most interesting guy in the world. To be fair, to you, he really is. He keeps talking and chewing and answering your questions, yet the thing he really wants to talk about is bubbling just below the surface. Somehow all the tension and excitement peaks and he goes head first into his plate of food.

When he finally comes back to, there’s no food on his face, and he’s resting on his arms on the dinner table, his plate off to his side. You’re still next to him, gently brushing your fingers through his hair, patiently de-tangling any clumps you come across. He groans while sitting up and blinking the sleep away.

“You’re up,” you observe aloud, “here let me clear these out of the way for you.”

You get up from beside him, unthinkingly pulling your sleeves up your forearms, and reach for the plates around him. He notices something odd about one of your hands as you walk away with the stack of plates in your hands, but before he can say much you're already on your way to the kitchen counter. He watches you, lethargically shoving food in his mouth as you hand the dishes over to Thatch, who looks at your hands, then looks his way for a moment with an amused grin.

He could actually hear the next thing as the cook raised his voice, “nah leave those dishes to me, go hang out with your loverboy.”

Had the pirate not shoved you away with a plate of food in hand, Ace got the feeling you would have pointedly ignored Thatch’s teasing to do the dishes. You walked back, your brow and lips pursed in a kind of indignation. He couldn’t help the little huff of amusement. You’d gotten much better at handling their teasing over time, but he wouldn’t deny it was cute how it would get to you sometimes.

You took a seat beside him again, sliding the plate the cook had given you towards him. Your…well he could only hope he was still really your beloved, just stared at you in silence as he chewed. For some reason it made you squirm.

That’s it. He’d had enough. He has to figure this out. You’d said it yourself, it’s really important to communicate things! That’s how relationships last!

“You’ve been real weird lately,” was what came out as he grabbed the new plate of food, “you been avoiding me?”

His brow furrowed at the way your gaze immediately fell, taking your expression with it, and how you began to fidget with your fingers - a nervous - wait. Ace’s hand extended to grab your left one, bringing it up to his face.

There on your left wrist, right where your pulse sat, in black ink sat the letters ASCE, arranged horizontally and smaller, but a perfect replica of his own otherwise. Instinctively he rubbed his thumb across it, almost as though he was checking to make sure this wasn’t an illusion and that wasn’t just normal ink from a pen.

You were looking back at him, he could see it in the way your shoulders bunched near your ears, and the wobble of your lips, and how you couldn’t keep eye contact for too long, but kept glancing back at him…you were nervous. He absentmindedly began drawing circles on your wrist, just staring at you.

“I was avoiding you, I guess,” you admitted, “I was hoping to surprise you with that,” your free hand moved to play with the hem of your shirt, as you shrunk even more, “was it presumptuous of me? Should I have asked first?”

“For a second I thought I’d managed to chase you away,” he admitted quietly, looking back down at the mark of permanence you’d etched into your skin, “that you’d gotten sick of me.”

You snatched your hand away before he could think, moving in to embrace him, “get sick, of you? Then I’d be a tasteless heathen or…whatever, unworthy of you- totally - completely - absolutely unworthy of you!”

Your arms tighten around him, “I’m so sorry I put you through that love.”

“All that sneaking around was for this tattoo?” He couldn’t help the involuntary little crack in his voice. “You really did surprise me darlin’.”

He pulls away from you first and his hands find your wrists, and his eyes again fall onto the symbol, the symbol of him, lovingly tattooed into your skin. A mark to let people know just who put the ring on your finger. 

He didn’t look up from it, even when you spoke up again, “Ace,” he just traced circles over the mark that sat proudly in bold black letters, “I’m really sorry that I made you feel that way - wait does that sound? It’s not-no wait. It’s my fault!” He glanced up at you for a moment as you struggled to put what you wanted to say into words, working strenuously to apologize sincerely.

His lips wobbled upwards.

He couldn’t help it.

You’d gone out of your way, to tattoo his mark onto your body. He couldn’t help but stare at it as he continued to rub circles with his thumb. Not only that, you were straining yourself so much all because he voiced that damned insecurity of his.

“I didn’t mean to put you through that?” You tried again. “I wanted it to be a surprise, but I didn’t want to hurt you.” You paused, and he felt you move closer. “I’m sorry if what I did hurt you-no-I’m sorry that I did hurt you.”

There was a pricking at the corners of eyes, as he finally took his eyes off your little gift to him to look at you. There was a kind of relief, or maybe it was appreciation? Maybe even a tinge of surprise? He was touched, that was one thing he knew for sure-if the fire that burned in his chest was any indication. He was a sick bastard for appreciating this, wasn’t he? Seeing you so genuinely apologetic - it was alarming really, did he really deserve this apology when he was doubting you? How could he ever hope to compete with this?

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for, doll,” his voice was uncharacteristically quiet as he continued to rub circles into your wrists.

“No I do,” you insisted, “Ace, I’m happy you’re communicating how you felt to me,” you responded quietly, but firmly, “so don’t downplay how it felt when I was the one being sneaky.”

“You didn’t mean any harm though,” his lips pull into a gentle smile as he slowly brings your tattooed pulse up to brush his lips against it before flicking his gaze to meet yours, “you were here prepping this lovely gift for me and I was only thinking of myself.”

A smirk tugs at his lips at the way you have to shake yourself out of whatever spell he’d placed you under, “just because I didn’t mean any harm, doesn’t mean I didn’t do any harm,” you press on, shuddering a bit when he brushes another kiss to your pulse, “if you did the same, I’d probably have felt the same way too, you have nothing to feel bad about.”

“Forgive me for doubting you, cariña?”

He almost laughs at the affronted look you give him, firing back a, “forgive me for hurting you, love?”

“Nothing to forgive,” he’s smiling more now, “I’m glad you were being so sneaky, made this surprise all the better.”

“Don’t downplay your feelings Portgas D. Ace,” he could hear your frown, “your feelings are important to me, you’re important to me.”

“My full name cariña?” He couldn’t help but tease.

“Yes,” you answered immediately and he looked up to see how upset you looked - it was almost annoying - he’d rather not dwell, “I want you to get just how upset you were off your chest.”

That got a chuckle out of him, despite the irritation that was rising.

“I don’t want to think about it too much,” his smile fell for a moment, “I don’t want to ruin this happy moment with stupid emotions in the past.”

“But I don’t want them to fester-” 

“Mi amor,” he looked at you, almost pleading, “it’s true I felt like you were ignoring me, but seeing your little surprise makes me the happiest man on the five seas.”

Seems that was enough to quiet you. Though… “six, if you include the All Blue.”

When you chuckled at him, he felt his smile returning. He honestly couldn’t care less about the past. He’d said his piece, you’d talked it out, he didn’t care anymore.

“So, you know I love you right?” The timid way in which you asked was enough to knock the wind out of him.

Yet, he grinned, and brought your marked pulse up to lips again, “I love you too.”

“Oi get a room!” The two of you startled at the sudden shout coming from the other end of the mess hall. “Sure we can barely see you in your little corner, but the lovey-dovey energy in here is off the charts!”  

“Shut up Thatch!” Ace fired back. “You’re just mad you can’t gossip to Marco about it!”

“You’re the one blocking the show!”

“Good!”

“It’s real funny though,” there was a pause, “who’d have thought the wild Fire Fist was actually a huge pile of mush!”

With the newfound yelling, people started to file into the mess hall. Which was when he noticed it was mostly empty prior to that. Of course among the people who filed in was the aforementioned first division commander.

“You like your little surprise Ace?” He asked the younger man.

“Wait you knew?”

“Who else would she ask yoi?” The medic gave him a lazy grin before turning to you. “So, did you get to say what you wanted to say yoi?”

Ace studied you as you shook your head looking both disappointed and sheepish.

“What did you want to say?” He couldn’t help but ask.

You huffed, a sheepish smile wobbling your lips, as you moved to his left side, your right hand pushing his upper arm to show more of his tattoo.

"See,” you held up your own tattooed wrist next to his arm, “now we match."

Extra:

Ace later: “I’m gonna marry her.”

Marco (who is next to him): “aren’t you already married?”

#portgas d ace x reader #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace x you #one piece x reader #one piece x you #portgas d ace x you #portgas d ace fluff #portgas d ace #portgas d ace fanfic #one piece fanfiction #one piece #ace one piece

[sundrop-writes]

Hiii !! I wanted to request a reaction for Derek, Emily and Spencer

When Single Parent! Reader (GN is fine !!) has to bring their daughter to the BAU for a little bit and she won't stop following the Character around and doesn't want to leave "her new friend" when its time to go? Thank you sm in advance if you write it !! 💕💕

i might swing by later with a dif request, this was the first thing my sleep ridden brain blessed me with ;p

I love this so much (I have been in such a parent fic mood since writing the Dad Spence fic, Star thank you so much) - I think this idea is so adorable, I love it!!!

(I wrote Derek's part and then trailed off and left this in my drafts for a few days, so sorry if there's a huge disconnect between the characters' parts. Ooops.)

Requests are currently - OPEN

How would Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, and Spencer Reid react to your daughter becoming attached to them? (Derek, Emily, and Spencer x GN!Reader)

Warnings: mentions of corporate/white collar crimes (embezzlement, etc.); mentions of the reader being threatened by white collar criminals, mentions of criminals threatening to kill a child; as it says in the title, the reader has a daughter but the reader's gender is not described in any way; surprisingly, for this one, I didn't give the daughter a name. idk, I think that's it. (Edit: now fixed so that the reader is actually fully GN and I am so sorry about the mistake before!!!)

It was a pretty basic case. You were an attorney working on a large company merger - you had found evidence of millions of dollars being embezzled, and when you had copied the files with the intention of bringing them to the IRS, you had started receiving threatening letters. It weighed on your conscience - you knew that the men who ran the company had more than enough money and resources to make you disappear, likely leaving your daughter an orphan, leaving her to wonder what had happened to you for the rest of her life. When you received another letter with photos of your daughter at her preschool attached, now threatening her - you had made your decision fully.

You took your files and evidence to the BAU - you had met Rossi at a seminar he gave, talking about how sociopathy is incredibly common in corporate circles - how sociopaths do very well in corporate jobs due to their driven, goal oriented, emotionless nature. And warning signs to look out for if someone is using those traits to cross into dangerous territory. It was a seminar you had gone to out of curiosity, but you were glad that you had taken his card and you were able to contact him now.

He invited you to the BAU, and the team offered to take your case - to find out who was threatening you and bring them to justice.

Derek found you incredibly beautiful.

He was intrigued by your looks at first, and when Hotch mentioned that someone needed to interview you and get the full details from you in order for the team to get a better perspective on the case, Derek volunteered immediately. He hadn't gotten a full briefing - too eager to get to talk to you.

He came into the room with a bottle of water for you, looking to comfort you with his smile and his charms, and he was surprised when Penelope came back into the room and a small girl came barreling toward you, incredibly excited to tell you that she had gotten M&Ms from the vending machine (which Penelope had taken her to).

Typically, Derek didn't go for people who had kids. Any other time, with any other person - it would have immediately turned him off. It would have dampened your attractiveness in his eyes. He generally had a 'no single parents' policy, because he thought that dating someone with kids was just a lot of baggage. But seeing you - he was immediately taken with you. And seeing you with your daughter, somehow made you instantly more attractive.

And he thought the way that you scooped your daughter up into your lap and let her feed you M&Ms with her chubby little fingers was all too cute. It was unprofessional, but the case definitely wasn't the only thing on his mind that day.

Penelope took your daughter out of the room again while Derek interviewed you, and it was only when you spoke of the fear you felt for your daughter - the potential of her being her by the anonymous person, that you actually teared up. Derek couldn't help but to pull you in close, holding you tight in an effort to comfort you (secretly loving how tightly you hugged him back) - and it was in that moment that he vowed to himself that he would do whatever it took to protect you and your child. He would always keep the two of you out of harm's way.

And he certainly tried his hardest to accommodate your daughter when he found out that the two of you would be sticking around the office for the day - to ensure that you would be protected until the team found out who had sent the threats. He got her a kids meal with a toy when he ordered lunch, he knew there wasn't much in the office in the way of "toys" - but he swung by Garcia's office borrowed something she had that was fuzzy and lights up (with the promise of returning it) and he scrounged up a blank pad of paper and some coloured pens so your daughter could have something to do.

It wasn't surprising when she excitedly ran over to his desk and gave him a picture she had drawn of him - a very cartoonish muscled man with his same facial hair and an eggish bald head. His exaggerated features in the picture made you and Morgan laugh, and before you left the BAU for the day (when your safety was assured and the local police were on their way to arrest the men who had made the threats to you) - you found a different pen and wrote your number on the bottom corner of the picture for him.

He knew that something in you had changed him when he started thinking about taking you on a first date in the park - something your daughter could enjoy as well, rather than considering what bar or late night restaurant he was going to take you to.

Emily was surprised by the entire thing.

She hadn't been around children since, well - she was one. Due to events in her past, and due to the way her mother treated her, she never imagined herself being a parent. Ever. She was someone who thought that she was just naturally terrible with kids, like her own mom was. She hadn't met the person she thought that she could settle down with, so she never thought that kids were in the cards for her. So it definitely caught her off guard when your daughter seemed to take to her like a duck to water.

It was in her natural instinct to comfort you. You were so shaken up about the whole thing, the anonymous danger lurking in your life - and she took some extra time to assure you that things were going to be okay, that the team was the best, and they were going to catch whoever was doing this.

She thought it was a natural kindness to get down on your daughter's level and ask what she was playing with, to compliment her cute little doll and then take her down the hallway to grab a snack to give you a few minutes to breathe. The little girl was sweet and Emily didn't mind spending some extra time with her.

On their way back along, your daughter plucked a crossword puzzle book off Emily's desk and asked what it was, and Emily explained it - so then she took a few minutes to find some crosswords for children online and printed them out, and when she came to delivery them, alone with some pens, your daughter enthusiastically asked if Emily would sit and 'show her' - and while you said that Emily was busy and had other work to do, Emily shrugged and said she had a few minutes to spare. Again, she thought it was common manners, sitting with the girl on her lap while she guided her through the puzzles, praising her intellect when she got the answers right.

She didn't see the way you were looking at the pair, pure affection bubbling up in your eyes.

When the day was over, and it was cleared as safe for you and your daughter to return home, the little girl let out a loud complaint that she didn't want to leave her 'new friend Emily' - and Emily couldn't have predicted the way that those words tugged at something in her chest. She didn't know what led her to kneeling down at the girl's level, promising to see her that weekend when she had a free day - that was, if you didn't mind. Getting nothing but a bright smile from you, and feeling a certain spark there.

(She had to resist the urge to punch Morgan in the ribs when she walked back to her desk to nothing but teasing, how she was getting 'the whole family package' on 'her first date'.)

Spencer found the whole thing (secretly) adorable.

It is no secret that Spencer loves kids. He is very good with kids, and it's clear by the way he acts around kids that he definitely wants kids of his own someday. He hasn't met 'the one' yet - the person that he's going to have kids with. Whether that's through the natural, old-fashioned way or through adoption. But he did always imagine that if he raised kids of his own, it would be from infancy.

He never imagined that the person he was meant to be with would stumble into his life with a child that was already walking and talking - but when he met you and your daughter, it felt so right. Even if the circumstances were a bit dark.

He interviewed you about the whole situation, and when you apologized for crying and getting emotional, he was quick to assure you that it was natural - you were shaking, and though Spencer was usually someone to avoid touch, he found his need to hold you so overwhelming. He didn't regret his choice to wrap his arms around you when you hugged him back tightly.

When your daughter burst into the room (no longer occupied making paper airplanes with Emily and JJ), she was quick to ask why you were crying, extending out a small chubby finger to point at you, seemingly warbling with half-baked tears of her own at seeing you so upset. Spencer knelt down and assured her that everything was going to be okay, and then he moved to distract her by taking the little paper airplane out of her hand and telling her that he knew a trick to make it fly so much farther.

And he did. It was simple aerodynamics and folding techniques. And then they stood near the top of the bullpen, silently trying to get Morgan to look up by flying planes onto his desk - and the man couldn't bring himself to get too mad when he heard childish giggling coming from your daughter every few minutes.

You truly felt those butterflies for Spencer turn into more when he showed your daughter a trick that ended with a fake flower somehow coming out of his sleeve - something feathery and pink that he tucked behind her ear for her to keep, having her smiling and laughing brightly on a day where you had been wracked with worry, fearing for her life.

By the time the day was over and both of your safety was assured, you weren't surprised that she didn't want to leave him. And you made the bold move, telling him (rather than asking him) - that he should come over for dinner and a movie on Saturday, and then leaning over to gently whisper in his ear that the two of you could enjoy a another, more adult flick after your daughter was tucked into bed. Your daughter was too excited at the prospect of seeing Spencer again, tugging on his pant leg, waiting for him to agree - and he was speechless at the implications of what you had said.

He couldn't even think of the word 'no' if he tried.

So, it was a date, then.

Criminal Minds Masterlist

#star-mum #interactions #requests #requested #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic

[kozachenko]

I swear to god, Zanmu has just been on my mind recently, she's taking over my fucking brain please send help

Artist's Note:

Why is it that everytime I do a drawing of Zanmu I always make the canvas size fucking huge and it ends up being a living nightmare to fucking export. I swear to god I had to go from 1200 DPI to 600 to 350.

Exporting hell aside, I loved working on this piece. With Zanmu's design, I wanted to combine all the design details that I love and have seen in other people's drawings of Zanmu and give them my own personal touches. First of all, her sleeves were inspired by @amemenojaku's design for Zanmu, and I absolutley love that detail because not only does it make her feel more regal, it also can be a callback to Satori and old hell, and also gives me the idea that Satori's fashion sense was inspired by Zanmu because IRL a lot of historical fashion was inspired by what the nobles were wearing at the time, and since Satori was around since when Old Hell used to be Hell, she probably took some wardrobe inspo from her (or it could be my headcanon that Satori could've been Zanmu's royal advisor or she was in her court or something but that theory is kinda grasping at strings from other headcanons I have, but that's for a different post). Also, the eye makeup she has was inspired by @jothelion's drawings of Zanmu, and like, I fucking love that detail because it just adds so much like omg I just love it sm.

And now for the design details I put in. I gave Zanmu tassel earrings because I think they'd look great on her. I also really like to exaggerate her hair and really try to make it look wild, as well as having little grey hairs here and there. I also try to add some wrinkles to the corners of her eyes, but TBH I don't know how visible that detail is, since the image is pretty fucking big. I also really exaggerated the tassles/strings on her outfit, since I really wanted to play around with the potential flow they could have. Also, big fan of giving Zanmu longer sleeves and pants. IDK why but I just like how it flows better. Also big fan of making her taller, idk why a lot of fanart makes her short. Also, I placed her horns closer to the front of her head as I just think placing horns in that position looks cool.

Also, if you're wondering about the halo, I took some inspiration from a few of Caravaggio's paintings where he often depicts saints with this very thin halo around the top of their heads. I just liked that detail a lot so I thought I'd include it.

Fun fact, I was originally gonna make the four skeletons Chiyari, Biten, Enoko, and Hisami but I didn't like the prospect of having to draw four more characters, so I chose to replace them with skeletons (if you wanna get silly with it, Zanmu got Hisami to kidnap Aya, set up some skeletons with bones from her bone collection and told her to take a picture of her).

I kinda gave up on Zanmu's feet and the one skeleton's hands (as if drawing hands normally is hard enough but NOPE, HAD TO MAKE IT LIVING HELL FOR MYSELF BY MAKING IT A SKELETON) and the quality of the image may suffer because of how much I had to fucking compress it (Zanmu's presence alone was enough to make the computer lose all of it's desire and motivation to export the drawing of her lmao), but I have been hacking at this piece for a while now, plus I need to learn when to call it quits when it comes to drawings). Also as I was fixing up the hands there was one spot where I forgot to clean up with the sketch and I can't fucking unsee that now and it's going to fucking bother me until I fix it but fixing it requires going back and putting my computer through hell so yeah.

So yeah, that's about all I have to say with this drawing, it was fun but also a nightmare lol

#art #touhou project #fanart #touhou fanart #touhou 19 #unfinished dream of all living ghost #zanmu nippaku #touhou #東方project #東方

[demonvibez]

Ghost!!! Ive had a brainstorm!!!

The obey me characters with an MC that has a huge collection of plushies and stuffies :,,(((

Lucifer who preens each fluffy toy like a bird, Mammon who fights, slaps and kicks each plushie out of jealousy when you're not there to mediate him.

Levi who's planning intricate playdates with his stuffies and MC's stuffies. (He replays the memory in his head a lot when he's alone.) Satan who's using MC's plushies to prop up his books, he laughs when the book falls ontop of the poor stuffed animal.

Asmodeus who dotes and teases his favourite of the pile, sitting the soft toy in his lap so it can watch Asmo do a full skincare routine with him! Beel who scoops as many fluffy friends as he can into his arms to squeeze and cuddle!

Belphegor who lazily sinks into the softness of stuffed animals and takes leisure naps snuggled into the warmth.

Gjgjgkkhkggkfknfgggg I cant get it out of my head :,,|||||

Some of them turn the stuffies the other way when nightly cuddles turns into something more passionate and some of them are a bit meaner (COUGHCOUGHCOUGH LUCIFER ND HIS CORRUPTION KINK COUGHCOUGIGOVCIHCOS)

Okay, this is such a cute little imagine I just :') haha took it and ran a bit...or a lot! hope you enjoy - small suggestive/smutty part at the end, minors do not interact!

word count: 1400+ genre: mostly fluff / some smut (MDNI) tags: fluff, sibling rivalry, gender neutral reader, implied poly mc, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, oral sex, sex on camera rating: mature

It all started when Lucifer had noticed your favorite plushies that you had brought from home on your bed while you were out grocery shopping with Mammon and Asmodeus. He had the bright idea to get a plushie for you himself, and give it to you as a gift. Once his other brothers found out what he had done, of course it launched into a competition, with the other Six giving you plushies as well.

Lucifer is quite serious about the plushie he has given to you - he makes sure it is kept in pristine condition every time he swings by your room. Adorned with many accessories (each imbued with protection spells, unbeknownst to you), the plushie definitely reminds you of him in appearance - of course he would get you a plushie to literally represent him. He even enchanted the plushie to carry his scent, so that when you cuddle with it at night, you can't help but to think of him. He would never admit it, but he put a lot of thought and care into his plushie for you. If he sees any of his brothers even so much as breathe on it incorrectly, he'll make a mental note to add a little extra spice the next time he wants to punish them.

Mammon is naturally the most competitive about the whole thing. Every time one of his brothers gifts you a new plushie friend, he goes right out and buys two more - bigger, better, shinier! NO ONE can outdo The Great Mammon when it comes to giving his human some plushies! He's given you so many that you could make a giant crow's nest out of them that would cover most of your bed. Whenever he comes over, he pushes all of the plushies from his brothers under your bed, arguing that "ya got all these plushies here from yer first man, why the heck would ya need anythin' else?!" and you can't help but to pull him into a tight hug and indulge him once again as you begin your movie night.

You and Leviathan actually exchange stuffies with each other, after it takes you 4 days, 67 texts and three phone calls to get Levi to leave his room after hearing about the small collection you already have from his brothers. Envy floods his brain, convincing him "you would never exchange something like that with him," but you manage to finally make him believe you! And ever since, the lil group of you have a plethora of adventures together. Now when the two of you make cosplays together, you make an additional little mini set for your plushies to wear for your next TSL night! And when he is bored, sometimes Levi can't help but to look back at the photo album of your cosplays together on his DDD fondly.

Satan definitely hates the Lucifer plushie. Like, with every fiber of his infernal being. He would love to set the damn thing on fire - and often has dreams in which he does exactly that - but he loves you more and wouldn't want to hurt you like that, so he gets his own to give you instead. You guys love to have murder mystery parties with the plushies, but had to ban the eldest's plushie from the party when you started to notice it was somehow always the victim. Aside from that, the two of you also enjoy just cuddling up together with his plushie and reading by the fire. You both have tea and cookies while sharing poetry with one another, under the embrace of your favorite fluffy blanket, the plushie snug between the two of you.

Asmodeus makes an entire day of going out shopping for plushies and outfits with you. Little did you know, he had called in a few favors with one of his fashion designer friends to have both the plushies and their outfits custom made to his design. When the two of you get back to his room, you sit down in front of his vanity with your new plushies and start making each other over, in preparation for the fashion show you’re about to have. After getting hair and makeup ready, you slip on your outfits, making sure everything looks just right, both with yourselves and your new stuffed friends. Asmo uses one of the extra plushies from his bed to prop up his DDD to record the fashion show - which still remains at the top of his Devilgram highlight reel.

Beelzebub was probably the only one of his brothers that was unfazed by the whole competitive aspect of this. He was walking back home from fangol practice one afternoon, arms full of bags of food for the two of you from Hell's Kitchen. As he's walking, he notices an adorable plushie in a shop window that reminds him of you. Of course he goes in to buy it, and soon enough he is making a beeline straight home and directly to your room with all of the goodies. He honestly has no idea which he loves more - the look on your face as you eat your favorite Devildom food, or the smile you flash and the glimmer in your eyes as he gives you the plushie. He can't help but to pull you into one of his famous Beel hugs.

Belphegor was feeling a bit bratty when he heard that his brothers were in this stupid little plushie competition for you. He ended up disappearing for a couple of days, nowhere to be found and completely ignoring all attempts to reach him via DDD. You eventually find him upon looking for him in the attic a second time. Upon entering you see him asleep in bed with a giant plushie, one as long as he is tall. You sit on the edge of his bed and call out to him a few times with no reply. After calling his name the fourth time, you reach out to touch him, only to have his tail wrap around you and pull you down into his cuddle pile. He presses a kiss into the top of your head, mumbling something about how ‘he got you this gift because you are his,’ before drifting back off to sleep. You smile and press a kiss to the bottom of his jaw, cuddling closer before joining him in slumber.

When it comes to moments of intimacy, most of the brothers are rather respectful, and don’t like the feeling of the little plushie eyes on them during your love making. Two of the brothers in particular are a bit more devious than the others, though . . .

It was one of those rare evenings where Lucifer was spending time with you in your room instead of his. One thing led to another, and now here you were; the Avatar of Pride thrusting into you as you grip the sheets and moan out his name. Right as you both are about to hit your climax together, Lucifer breaks eye contact with you as he releases, his eyes locking with the Satan plushie right as he fills you with his seed. As he is coming down from his high, a sadistic idea plants himself into the back of his mind. He had been looking for a new way to punish his brothers, and the audience of plushies watching the two of you had proven useful in giving him this devious idea. The next time his brothers did something especially egregious that warranted punishment, he will simply string them up from the ceiling and make them watch as he takes you - even just the idea of it fills him with enormous pride.

One night, after your little fashion show date, things were getting hot and heavy in your room. Asmodeus was making out with you in a rather passionate fashion as your hands found the way to the hem of his shirt, tugging it off. As you begin to pull on his belt, he grabs your hands, a devious smirk on his face and a glint in his eyes. “Wait…I have an idea…” He pushes himself off of your bed, pulling one of Mammon’s plushies along with him. He props the plushie up on the dresser across from your bed before pulling out his DDD, making sure the plushie is holding it and the front facing camera is on. He looks back to you as you nod your consent, and he makes his way back to your bed, peeling off your pants and pushing your underwear to the side, leaning down to taste you as you let out the first of many moans. He would never dream of posting the video anywhere - but he definitely does text you little clips from it to tease you when he is craving more of you.

#obey me #obey me fluff #obey me smut #obey me x reader #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me belphie x reader #obey me luci x reader #obey me mc #obey me imagines #omswd #omnb #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #ghost writes om

[tflaw]

The idea of the handmaiden being shorter than the harbingers (like she's 5’0 ft) gets me going since they could easily lift her if they wanted to while having a rather rough lovemaking session.

Might have already sent this though, if I did then I'm sorry but my brain is failing to remember properly.

— THE HANDMAIDEN. PT2.

In the frozen land where the outcasts belong and the peculiar is home, tomorrow is never promised. Intertwined your fate with the harbingers might be, it’s in your best interest to remember: the cold swallows the weak and Snezhnaya knows no tears.

★☆ ! f!reader. part / installation of these drabbles. size kink as was stated in the ask. unprotected. not proofread. warnings for each character are as follows (lmk if i missed anything, it’s almost 2 AM here, my mind is foggy):

pierro — undertones of manhandling.

capitano — mentions of finger-fucking && foreplay. dacryphilia.

dottore — exhibitionism. voyeurism. he lets his other segments do you. creampie. undertones of overstimming just to be sure.

pantalone — rough sex.

tartaglia — foul legacy form. he’s sooo leaky.

PIERRO !

who would’ve thought that there’s a hidden gem in the throng of servants in the palace? the fascination pierro has for you seems to go on unceasing. it is why he keeps you close. apart from your obedience, there’s one more charming thing about you that utterly has him bound and enthralled: you are small.

yes— small. he can control you in anyway he wants. flip you to his satisfaction, drive you mad with his brawn, and fuck you so deeply it will leave you mousy for weeks from the memory. sometimes he fears of breaking you, especially when he gives your little pussy such a fervid pounding that renders you shivering. you tell him it’s alright, i can take it: words that seem to drive him mad that he fixes you on his lap, holding your waist while watching your pussy sucking only his fat crown. impatient, he would dig his nails to your flesh, releasing a gutted moan as he slams you down and fills you with his hard shaft. all virility and nothing less than that.

CAPITANO !

despite not divulging the reason for his lusting after you, capitano thinks that it’s clear as crystal to anyone who possesses good eyesight. the equation is simple: he’s huge and you’re small. aside from the surge of adrenaline it pumps into his veins, the sight of you in bed is one he finds hard to forget.

capitano makes certain that your cunt is drooling before ramming his cock in you. call it safety measures, because it is. despite his infamous nature, he wouldn’t deliberately hurt you if he can help it. however, he sees your wet cunt with white trails of arousal dripping from the hole, and he’d drive himself in with force that takes away a little bit of his sanity. and yet, after all the preparation of finger-fucking, his cock remains a tight fit. your hole gapes around his veiny shaft, utterly small and struggling and fluttering. he releases a grunt, then, pitching his hips slowly despite the physical ache it causes. and even with the measured thrusts, he finds you trembling and crying from being filled to the brim.

DOTTORE !

dottore is a keen observant. and perhaps that is an innate nature that shapes who he is today. there are things that he realizes only after thorough scrutiny. and one of his favored thing— or person— to observe is you. he has been aware of how small you are ever since you’ve started to stand meekly beside him, hoping to get a good look on his experiments while trying your hardest not to be a nuisance. it’s such a foolish little thought: one that has managed to slip through the piles of ideas inside his brain and one he’s more than willing to carry out for the sake of his curiosity.

it has taken him only a few tweaks to use the clones fit to accomplish the experiment. this particular study gives no relevance to his existing ones, and yet it has brought him great pleasure to see you fucked out and senseless by his segments lining up to shove their cocks in you. dottore overlooks the whole experiment, rejoicing at the sight of your puffy cunt expanding based on whose cock and how large said cock is while fucking and abusing your walls. you look so good on his table with your pussy leaking from too much cum jammed inside it. the loads of his segments are an unstoppable current, thick in consistency and languid in motion while running down from the table. an experiment of self-indulgence— one that will keep him awake and one he will continue observing.

PANTALONE !

he likes to measure things. especially the mora that flows in his hundred bank accounts and in snezhnaya. for a man as ambitious as pantalone, seeing the actual size of something gives his ego another shove. he’s probably not the only one who have seen it, as it is palpable whenever he observes how the other harbingers look at you. the difference in your height is one that is not hard to miss— and most certainly the reason that drives him in a frenzy whenever he fucks you stupid.

pantalone grows a habit of pushing the back of your weakened thighs to display your pretty little cunt. before fucking you senseless, he’d press his cock just above your pussy lips, as if measuring how deep he’d go once he’s sheathed inside. he has the image tattooed on his brain, and yet he couldn’t seem to get enough of its sight. you can say it boosts his pride, fucking you with his sheer length, watching the pulsing veins around his shaft shape their thickness on your plumped pussy. until he’s out of order, going ballistic with lust. he fucks you with a need of one deprived man, savaging you to the point of surrender. because as much as he loves the sight, he loves how you cling to him and rake your nails from his back to his buttocks more. you love it as much as he does. and there is no denying, especially when you lock your legs around his body, securing that his cum would go straight to your perfect cunt and nowhere else.

TARTAGLIA !

tartaglia has nothing but adoration whenever you wallow in his wildest fantasies. which sometimes makes him think that it is due to your work as a handmaiden in the palace. although he has not heard any objection from you, this particular fantasy he’s been concealing for so long planted doubt on his mind. and so his joy had been immeasurable after obtaining your approval.

he was not wrong, though. it is truly a magnificent sight. tartaglia finds it fascinating how your pussy seems only slightly bigger than the crown of his cock in his current form. you can barely take him in: pussy hole stretched and gaping around his tip. the pre-ejaculate he’s squirting since earlier seems almost enough to pump your womb swollen. for a second he fears that his cock wouldn’t go in, debating whether he should change back on his human form instead. but you have urged him to go on— giving him full consent to ram his whole length in you. with patient thrusts he did— or at least tried to do so— until he couldn’t endure it any longer and pistoled his hips between your thighs, penetrating your cunt to the root and pumping thick loads that looks exactly like pre-cum. you have a long night ahead of you, it seems.

#tw size kink #tw dacryphilia #tw voyeurism #tw exhibitionism #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #pierro smut #capitano smut #dottore smut #pantalone smut #childe smut #ajax smut #tartaglia smut #pierro x reader #capitano x reader #dottore x reader #pantalone x reader #child x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

[thetriumphantpanda]

Come Away With Me | Joel & Tommy Miller (Friday)

Summary | Your last day alone with Joel should mean you spend it tangled up together, making the most of those last moments you have alone with him. But there are doubts creeping into his mind about what's best and things truly do come to a head.

Word Count | 5.9K

Chapter Warnings | I cannot stress this enough - ANGST. Joel is a little mean in this one but makes up for it I promise. Consumption of food, explicit smut, rough sex, possessive sex, unprotected PiV sex, oral sex (f) receiving, squirting, creampie, dirty talk, breeding kink, the briefest slice of daddy kink.

Authors Note | Well, this was hell of a rollercoaster, wasn't it? Sorry for the sheer spectrum of emotions I'm about to put you through, I can only apologise. I wanted to give a HUGE shoutout to @cupofjoel for letting me brainstorm the ideas for this chapter. Her love for these characters is inspirational and I am so grateful she helped me with these ideas. And thank you to each and every one of you that continues to support this story and who love Joel, Pretty Girl and Tommy as much as I do. If you enjoy this, please consider commenting, reblogging or coming into my ask box to scream with me. And, as always, If you want to support me, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.

A reminder that I no longer use taglists - to keep up with my writing, please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs and turn on notifications to keep up to date.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

The sun is only just starting to rise when Joel wakes the next morning. There’s very little light draining in through the curtains, but he can make your face out perfectly. He thinks if he were to ever go blind, he would have looked at you so much that your face would be permanently burnt onto his brain. He can make out the curve of your cheek, the way your lips are relaxed, and the way you inhale through your nose and blow out the air through your mouth. Not snoring, per se, just another one of your quirks that he loves. Loves just like the rest of you. 

He's suspected for a while now that you felt the same as he did, that your feelings for him moved beyond the love you should have for him as your brother-in-law, that you loved him with just as much passion and ferocity that he loved you with, and that was dangerous. He tries to tell himself that it’ll be okay, that when Tommy turns up tomorrow with Joshua, he’ll slink back to the shadows, become Uncle Joel again, and only have you when he has to have you, when he buries himself inside you under the watchful eye of his brother and tries to give you another baby, but he knows it’s futile. He’s never going to be satisfied again. 

He drags a frustrated hand over his face, pulse pounding behind his eyes. He wants to roll over, drag your warm body into his and never let you go, wants to keep you here forever, but he knows he can’t be that selfish, so instead, he gently pushes himself up from the bed, lower back screaming at him as he does. He’s behaved liked a horny teenager this whole week, pretending that this bubble of you and him is what real life is like, and not only is he going to pay for it with a broken heart, but he’s also paying for it with real aches and pains shooting through his aging body. 

He drags on some clothes, leaves you sleeping soundly in bed, makes a pot of coffee and takes himself outside. He goes to sit down on the bench near the fire pit, but he’s reminded of his confession of a few nights ago. The one where he admitted he fucks another woman but can’t bear to fuck her on her back, because she’s not you. She doesn’t sound like you, but when he’s got her on all fours and he closes his eyes, he can just about convince himself that his cock is dragging in and out of your pussy instead. She’s a nice woman, he doesn’t deny it, and he knows he’s fucking her over by keeping her hanging. He makes a mental note to call her when he gets back and call things off. 

His feet take him to the water’s edge, where he thinks back to yesterday, pressing you against that wood of the jetty, fucking into you, even though he knows you were sore, because you were just that desperate for him, that desperate for another child. He almost walks away to find somewhere else to sit, but then realises this entire fucking place is just full of the memories of him and you, he’s not going to find somewhere that you don’t permeate his thoughts. 

He sits on the gravel of the shore, listening as the wind brings gentle waves of the lake crashing near him. The warmth of the coffee mug is burning into his skin, but he doesn’t move to set it down – the pain reminds him that he’s alive, that he can feel things. He just doesn’t know what to do with it. 

He thinks about Tommy. About how he trusted him with this sacred thing, with holding and touching his wife to give them a family, to give them their dream, and how he took that trust in his hand and fucking crumbled it to dust, falling in love with her and letting her fall in love with him. He thinks it’s kind of poetic really, because ever since they were boys, growing up in Texas with their parents, they’ve shared mostly everything. Bedrooms, cars, the weight of their parent’s dying, looking after Sarah when she was younger and her mom had left, and they’d done it without falling out, without ruining their relationship. Now, the one thing they really shouldn’t have shared is going to change it all. He’s convinced when Tommy see’s the two of them he’s going to know something has changed, he’s going to be angry, he’s going to take you back for himself and that’ll be it, so he has to do it first. Joel cannot lose his brother, cannot lose this part of his family that means so much to him. 

Despite you saying you could fix it, that you had a plan, that he would trust you, he just cannot see it, cannot see a way where someone doesn’t get hurt. He’s the big brother here, the one who should be sensible, so he knows this is it. He’ll give you this baby and that’ll be it, because if he continues to cash in this one night he gets to have with you a year, he’s only going to end up hurting you both, hanging on to this hope that maybe, one day, he’ll have more. He has to be the bigger man, so no matter how much it’s going to hurt, he’s got to give you up. 

When you wake, much like yesterday morning, you’re alone. You reach over to the empty side of the bed, arms under the covers, but unlike yesterday, Joel’s side of the bed is cold, which means he’s been awake for much longer than he had been yesterday. You roll onto your back, listening out for any sign of him, the padding of his feet in the kitchen, the sound of the shower in the bathroom, but it’s silent, save for the rustling of the trees in the wind from outside. 

You lie there, staring up at the ceiling, thinking back to last night. To the way you’d opened your heart to him, finally. God, you loved him something fierce. Loved him in a way that made you hurt. You finally said it out loud, spoke the love you felt to him into existence. Whenever you’ve said it before, you could almost convince yourself that it was the kind of love it should have been, familial and warm, but there was no denying it anymore. This love was like fire, burning inside you, threatening to burn out of control if you didn’t do something about it. 

Joel had placed his heart in your hands, asked you not to break his heart, and by God you were going to try and keep it whole. Cradle it in your hands, nurture it, keep it safe. The plan was tenuous at best and you knew it, but Tommy needed to know. You had to tell him. You would, before this week was out, you were going to fix this. 

You had one more day though, one more day of being wrapped up with Joel, and you’d be damned if you were going to waste it. You drag yourself out of bed, picking out some comfortable clothes – one of Joel’s t-shirts that smells like him, and your sweatpants. You head to the kitchen, there’s still no sign of Joel. You pour yourself a cup of coffee from the pot, tip some creamer into it, when you spot him. 

He's stood at the edge of the water, skimming stones across the lake. His broad frame sticking out against the foliage and the water. Almost like he can sense you’re watching him, he turns around. You smile over the lip of your coffee mug, raising a hand to wave at him, but he doesn’t wave back, just turns back around and continues skimming stones across the water. 

It hurts, the cold shoulder he gives you. After spilling your hearts to one another last night, the way he fucked you like you were the last person on earth and your time was running out, and now this? You suck in a deep breath, damping down the flare of anger that spreads through you. He doesn’t get to do this, you think, not now, not today. You finish your coffee, eyes still trained on the way his back pulls and flexes as he throws his stones. Maybe he just needs time, is what you think, some space, where you aren’t constantly crowding him, constantly in his presence. 

You settle on the couch, TV playing low for background noise as you try and focus on the book you’re reading. You think you lie there for hours, watching the sun move across the sky, but he still doesn’t come to you. 

Your stomach growls and you think if you’re hungry, he must be as well, so you make BLT sandwiches, his favourite, and you take them down to the shore where he’s just sitting, looking out onto the water. You sit down next to him, close enough that he could reach out and touch you, but with enough distance to not crowd his space. You hand the plate to him, and thankfully he takes it, setting it between his feet, picking up one half of the sandwich to start eating.

It's silent except for the sound of you both eating and for the first time ever, it’s a little awkward. Not the usual, comfortable silence where neither of you have anything to say but are content to just be in each other’s company. You both have plenty to say to each other and you both know it as well, but neither of you want to make the first move. 

“You alright?” You ask softly, deciding it’s better to just get this over and done with. 

His response is short, “I’m fine.” 

You sigh, frustration bubbling under your skin, “You certainly don’t seem fine.” 

“I’m just tryin’ to do the right thing.” He won’t look at you, eyes continuing to face to water. 

“The right thing,” You scoff, shaking your head, “What happened to trusting me?” 

He’s quiet for a moment and you’re sure if you listened hard enough you could hear his brain working to come up with his answer, “It just ain’t right,” He speaks quietly, “You ain’t mine to keep.” 

“You’ve changed your tune,” You hiss, “I hate to break it to you Joel, but that isn’t just your decision to make, there’s two of us here.” 

“I’m tryin’ to make it easier, make sure no-one gets hurt.” 

“You’re hurting me right now,” You point out, because he is, this distance is cleaving you in two, “And you’re going to hurt yourself too,” You reach out and touch his arm with your hand, glad that he doesn’t flinch away from you, “The only person who doesn’t get hurt is Tommy if you keep going like this.” 

“You’ll be okay though,” He mumbles, placing his big hand over your own on his arm, “He’s good to you, you’ve got your family, you don’t need me.” 

“Stop it!” You wail, “Don’t say that about yourself,” Lifting yourself to your knees next to him, hand on his shoulder to try and get him to look at you, “I will always need you Joel, do you understand me?” You grab his chin in your hand, tugging him to look at you, his eyes just as glassy as your own, “Why are you doing this?” 

“What’s your master plan, huh?” He asks, suddenly talking louder, more commanding, “You gonna ask him to share you? Let his brother have you whenever he wants? That how you’re gonna fix this?” 

“Don’t fucking patronise me,” You accuse, pushing him with your hands, using the momentum so you can stand, “You promised to trust me Joel, promised me you’d let me fix this, what happened to that?” 

“I just don’t see how we could ever fix this.” 

“You’re unbelievable,” You spit, “For once in your life could you stand to make yourself happy?!” 

“Not if it means hurtin’ Tommy,” He shakes his head, “Should never’a let ourselves get so caught up in this.” 

“Joel, stop it,” You’re crying now, because it sounds like he’s telling you this is it, that he’s through, that it’s been a mistake, that he regrets it, and you can’t bear that, he’s standing up now too, towering over you, “I love you, doesn’t that mean anything?” 

“Of course it does,” He murmurs, “I love you too, but it was never meant to happen like this, we were never meant to love each other this much.” 

“So that’s it, we break our hearts because you’re scared to ask for what you want?” You sniffle, trying to dampen down your tears, keep things together, “Scared to let me fight for us?” 

“There ain’t no way any good is going to come from this.” He motions his hand between the two of you.

It’s like a punch to the gut when the words leave his mouth, because it’s a total lie. Your beautiful son came from this. The happiest years of your life came from this, and you’re pretty sure Joel’s happiest years came from this too. 

“So that’s it then?” 

He doesn’t answer this time, just shakes his head and sighs, moving to turn away from you, so you swivel on your heel, rubbing your hands furiously over your cheeks to wipe away your tears. You make sure to slam the door to the lodge behind you, sure that Joel can hear your anger. You walk straight through the lodge and into the bedroom, throwing yourself down on the bed, face planted in his pillow. 

You wrap your arms around it, taking in a single deep breath of his scent before you scream into the pillow, sobs soon following as you let out your frustration and anger and heartbreak. Why did life have to do this to you? Why did it have to throw you down this path, desperate to have a family with a man who simply couldn’t? In this moment you curse Tommy for suggesting this whole stupid fucking arrangement and for being so kind and understanding and only ever wanting to make you and his brother happy. Curse your own heart for being so easy to fall, eager to love, and you curse Joel Miller for taking that easy and eager heart and being reckless with it. He asked you not to break his heart, yet here he is breaking yours. 

Joel knew almost immediately he’d fucked up. The way your bottom lip had wobbled as you turned to walk away from him, the way you slammed the door, and the way that two hours later, when the wind was too cold and he walked back to the lodge, he could still hear you crying in the bedroom. What a fucking mess he’s caused. Trying his best to not hurt anyone, and here you are, crying into a pillow because of him. 

He’d wanted nothing more than to push that door open, get down on his hands and knees and beg for your forgiveness. Take your hands in his and pray for you to forgive him. He stays in the living room, thumbing through the book you’d been reading, watching some random sports game on the tv, until he couldn’t hear you crying anymore. He’s panicking, can feel that familiar tightness in his chest at the mess he’s made, not quite sure what to do. His brain is telling him to stay where he is, to stick to the plan – it hurts now, but maybe tomorrow when Tommy and Joshua arrive, and Sarah is here, it won’t seem so bad. On the other hand though, his heart is telling him to move, to go to you, scoop you into his arms and make it all better. 

Joel Miller is a weak man where you’re concerned, and he cannot bear the hurt he’s caused, can’t stand that he’s the reason you’ve spent that last day you could have had together in tears, shut in the bedroom because he pushed you away. He stands, brain going into fix-it mode. He toasts some bread, spreads a thick layer of butter on it and covers it in jam, just like he knows you like it. He makes you a cup of tea with a splash of milk. Steeling himself outside the door, he taps his foot to it, mainly to let you know he’s coming in rather than looking for permission to enter. 

The room is faintly lit by the bedside lamp on your side of the room. You’re led on the bed, curled into a tight ball on one side. He’d have thought you were sleeping if he didn’t know you better – if he didn’t know exactly how you slept – the exact cadence of your breathing and the way your body went lax when you finally nodded off. You’re facing away from him when as he walks over, places the steaming mug and the plate of food next to the lamp. He sits down on the edge of the bed, reaching over to grip your wrist, pulling you up like a ragdoll and into his arms. You’re a dead weight as he wraps your arms around his neck, his own resting around your back as he nuzzles his face into the warmth of your neck. 

He can’t look at you right now, knows it’ll break his heart, but he revels in the way that you tighten your arms around him. That’s a good first step, he thinks. He lets his lips press softly to the delicate skin of your neck, not in a way that it usually does when he’s trying to turn you on though. 

“I’m so sorry, pretty girl.” Is all he can really think to say in this moment, but it’s poor, and he knows it. 

He pulls away from you slightly, glancing at your face as he does. He was right, it does break his heart. The skin of your face is blotchy from the tears you’ve cried, eyes red and bloodshot, you look exhausted, and the heaviness in your bones is testament to that. He reaches over and picks up the steaming mug, holding it out to you as a sort of peace offering. You take it in your hands, blowing the steam away lightly before taking a sip, hissing when the hot liquid burns down your throat. 

In any other circumstance, he’d laugh, press a kiss to the tip of your nose and tell you to be patient, but he’s likely going to get slapped if he tries to lighten the mood like that right now, so instead, he takes one of the slices of toast, cut into a triangle and holds it to your mouth. 

You shake your head, “Not hungry.” Your voice is hoarse. 

“Just a bite,” Joel implores, “I made it just how you like it.” 

You don’t look at him, your eyes trained directly on the cup in your hand, but you nod lightly. His hand moves the slice of toast close enough to your mouth that all you need to do is lean forward and take a bite, which you do. He watches as you chew and then swallow and is quietly relieved when you lean forward and take another bite. He doesn’t force the other slice on you, leaves it where it is so you can have it if you want it. Instead, he lets his hand drop to your knee, warm and comforting as you sip at the tea again. 

You set it down on the nightstand, finally accepting it’s too hot right now, and Joel is surprised when you turn and throw your arms around his neck, burying your face into his shoulder, crying once again. 

“Oh pretty girl,” He coos, one hand resting at the nape of your neck to keep you anchored to him, the other around your lower back, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” 

He’s rocking you back and forth, gently, trying to soothe you as you cry into him, fighting back his own tears as well. He can hear you mumbling something into his shoulder, but he can’t make out what it is. 

He gently pushes you forward, “What was that, baby?” 

You shake your head, sniffle again, as a fresh wave of tears start falling, but you manage to get out what he had missed you saying earlier, before you’re falling back into the comfort of his shoulder, “I love you so much, Joel.” 

His hand is resting on the back of your head as you hold onto him tight, “I know, pretty girl, I love you too,” He dips down, lips pressed to the top of your head, “I’m so sorry,” He speaks again, “Please forgive me.” 

You pull back from him, moving to wipe your tears away, but Joel moves quicker, palms resting on your cheeks as his thumbs brush away the drops from your face. He’s looking at you now, his beautiful, sad eyes, trained on your own, “Do you regret it?” You ask quietly. 

He shakes his head, “Of course not, baby,” He leans forward, kissing your cheek softly, “I could never.” 

You try and shake your head, but his hands are keeping your face still, “Then w-why,” You falter a little, hiccupping over your words, “Why d-did you say n-nothing good could come of t-this?” 

He swallows, because he was wrong. So fucking wrong to say that, to say anything that he said to you earlier. He was frustrated but most of all he was scared, and he hurt you and now he’s not sure he can actually salvage this. 

“I was scared, pretty girl,” Joel admits, “I’m scared of how much I love you and what would happen if I can’t have you anymore, and I thought it would be easier, y’know? Easier if I just tried to pull away, get you back where you belong with Tommy, but I didn’t mean it, I promise I didn’t mean it.” 

“We made a baby,” You sniffle, “He’s something good.” 

“Oh, pretty girl, you’re breakin’ my heart,” Joel sighs, God he wants to make this better somehow, “Everythin’ about this is good, I’m just a mean old man sometimes.” 

Your hands are circling his wrists now, anchoring yourself to him, your eyes looking straight into his own, like you’re searching his very soul for any ounce of regret. He’s hoping you’ll see the truth, that he doesn’t regret this relationship with you, only his words from earlier.

“Will you let me fix this?” You ask, “Will you let me speak to Tommy?” 

“If you think it’ll help, pretty girl, I’ll let you do anythin’.” 

You seem satisfied with his answer, because all of a sudden, you’re surging forward and kissing him. Lips soft and gentle against his as he presses his hands into your face a little harder, just to make sure you’re real, that this is what you want. You open your mouth against his, letting your tongue into his mouth, his working against your own as you let out a throaty moan, swallowing it down into his own mouth as he shifts you both, laying you down onto the sheets on your back. 

“You gonna let me make it up to you, pretty girl?” He murmurs, pulling back just a touch from your mouth, “Gonna let me show you how sorry I am?” 

You nod, but he doesn’t move, he’s waiting for your permission, “Please,” You whine, lifting your hips into his, feeling him already semi-hard in his pants, “Make me feel good Joel.” 

So he does. He reaches his warm hands under his shirt that you're wearing, pulling it up and over your head. Your chest is bare underneath it, you didn’t bother with a bra today, mainly because you’d imagined you’d be spending most of it naked anyway. He trails his hot mouth down from your neck, kissing the skin between the valley of your tits, before he’s sucking one into his mouth. Your fingers tangle into his curls, keeping his head right there as he flicks your nipple with the tip of his tongue, pulling it into a stiff peak before he lavishes it with the attention of the flat of his tongue. He pulls his mouth from you, switching sides to your other breast – callused thumb working the nipple from before as he gives the same attention to this one, all whilst you’re grinding your hips up into him, friction causing a pool of wetness to gather between your thighs. 

Once he feels like he’s worked you up enough here, he pulls away, wrapping his hands around your wrists to drag your hands to your tits. He settles your hands on them, looking up at you through hooded eyes as he drags his tongue over the skin of your tummy, “Play with them,” He demands, “Use your fingers on those perfect tits whilst I eat your pussy, pretty girl.” 

You do as you’re told, rolling your nipples between your thumb and pointer finger as he drags your sweatpants off your legs. You spread your own legs for him as he settles between you, his mouth licking gently over your folds, before he’s using two fingers to spread the lips of your pussy, baring your aching cunt to his face. 

“Dripping fuckin’ wet for me already, darlin’,” He growls, biting into the soft skin of your thigh, sucking to leave a mark, “Always so fuckin’ eager for my cock, ain’t ya?” 

Fuck, you love it when he’s like this. When his need to fuck you, to mark you, takes over, when he’s possessive with you, when he’s rough with you. When he uses his mouth and teeth to mark you as his own, even if you’re not, not really, not fully. 

You buck your hips into his face, silently begging for him to make you feel good. He splays a wide palm over your tummy, pressing you down into the mattress to keep you still, as his warm tongue slips inside your hole, licking the slick that’s been gathering there for him. You get off on this, the way he laps at you, tasting you, groaning into you like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted. He drags that perfect tongue all the way up your pussy, giving one singular flick to your clit with the tip of his tongue before he’s plunging two of his fingers into your cunt. You arch your back off the bed, crying out as he fucks you with his fingers, tip of his tongue teasingly flicking against that bundle of nerves. He’s rough with it, the way his fingers pound into you, but you don’t care. Let it hurt, is what you think, let me carry this delicious pain and ache with me for days so I can remember him like this. 

He's pushing you so fast towards that edge. That knot that is pulled so tight inside you threatening to push you over the edge as he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. 

“Oh fuck!” You exclaim, hands squeezing at your tits, “Joel, I’m-” You let out a high-pitched squeal, muscles clenching around his fingers, “Gonna come.” 

He doesn’t bother to respond to you, just carries on exactly as he is until you’re literally screaming his name into the room. You push down onto his fingers and finally feel that tight rope snap inside of you, pleasure bursting at the base of your spine, throttling through the rest of your body like wildfire. You’re half aware of the fact you’re soaking the sheets as you continue to writhe your hips against his mouth. He’s pulling away from you, slipping his fingers from you, chuckling in that way that he does when he’s proud of himself. 

“Fuckin’ love when you squirt for me, pretty girl,” He growls against the skin of your tummy as he trails his mouth back up your body, he’s pushing the two fingers he had inside you past your lips when he’s level with your face, smirking as you clean yourself off him, “Gonna let me fuck you now?” He asks, you moan in response around his fingers, “Gonna fuck you so good, pretty girl, give you all the babies you want.” 

He pulls back enough to drag his shirt over his head, throwing it somewhere behind him, pushing his own sweatpants down his legs, kicking them off to the bottom of the bed, letting his throbbing cock free. He’s settling between your thighs, your own hand reaching down to grip him, guiding him to your aching cunt. He swats your hand away, hands gripping the headboard above you as he pushes into you. 

You let out a gasp as he buries himself inside you to the hilt. He never fails to take your breath away when he’s inside you, slotting into you perfectly, stretching you just right. You’re so full of him, his body crowding over you from above as he starts dragging himself in and out of you. It’s rough, and it’s fast, he’s desperately trying to tell you that he’s sorry, that he’s built just for this, put on this earth to give you everything you wanted whilst making you feel good. 

“I can’t,” Joel chokes out, “I can’t be gentle with you, pretty girl.” 

You know, because he’s splitting you right open down the middle, both hands gripping the headboard as his hips slam into yours. He’s so fucking deep, his cock punching right into the depths of you. Your hands, settled on his sides, grind into his skin, nails digging in so hard you’re sure you’re going to puncture his skin, draw blood. 

“D-don’t care Joel,” You manage to speak, before a particularly loud wail leaves your mouth, “Just… don’t fucking stop.” 

And he doesn’t. Looking up at him, he’s like a man possessed. He’s fucking you so hard, so good, that you’re crying, tears of mixed pleasure and pain rolling down your cheeks as he tries to prove how sorry he really is, how much he regrets what he did, what he’s said. He was a fool to think he could get away with his attitude, and he will stay here, cock buried inside you for as long as he must to prove his remorse to you.

His low, rough grunts are mixing with your needy moans. He drops down, body pressed right to yours. He finds your hands at his sides, brings them up above your head, his fingers tangled in your own as his mouth bites and sucks at the skin of your neck, along your collarbone, leaving marks across your perfect skin, marking you as his own. 

“You my good girl?” He rasps into your ear, breath hot against you as he uses his tongue to literally lick the salty tears from your face, “Cryin’ on my cock like a good girl, huh?” 

“A-always Joel,” You mewl as he shifts your bodies slightly, his cock brushing against that spot inside you, making you cry out, “Always your good girl.” 

“I know you are, pretty girl,” He grunts into your ear, “Mine, aren’t you?” 

And you agree, because fuck it, you are. You are his. You’ve been his since the first time he knelt between your legs and asked Tommy how you liked it. You might be Tommy’s girl first, but you’re just as much Joel’s as you are Tommy’s. They both lay claim to you, both own you in some way, and you’re perfectly okay with that. 

“Fuck, Joel,” You hiss quietly, turning your head so your cheek is pressed against his where he’s settled his face in the crook of his neck, “Please,” You beg, “Please come inside me.” 

“You want me to fill you up, mama?” He asks, hips still bruising against yours, the slap of his skin on yours, the wet squelch of your pussy around him filling the room. 

“Give me my baby, daddy,” You almost whisper to him, hands squeezing his where they’re still entwined above your head, “Let go for me, Joel.” 

He pulls out of you abruptly, manhandling you with a roughness you’re not used to so you’re on your front. His hands pull at your hips, angling your ass up for him as he’s pounding straight back into you. He’s gathered your hands at the small of your back, your face pressed into the mattress. This new angle mean’s he’s driving into you in a completely different way as before, and you have to push your face further into the sheets, so your screams are muffled. Joel doesn’t like that though, his drags his fingers through your hair, fisting it tightly, pulling you up, so your screams of pleasure are echoing around the room. 

“Don’t you dare,” He growls, “Don’t you dare hide these sounds from me, pretty girl.” 

This angle is new. Your hands are gathered in one of his at your back, his other hand tangled in your hair means you’re arched off the bed for him, and you think if you could reach a hand down, you’d be able to feel him in your stomach he’s so fucking deep inside you. 

It happens all of a sudden, he’s so fucking still, but you can feel him pouring himself into you, you can hear him spitting your name and a string of profanities as he lets go of the tight grip he has on your hair. He’s buried so deep inside you, his front draped over your back, the entire weight of him on your body, but he’s trying to push himself deeper into you, trying to get what he’s just planted inside of you to take. He’s just as desperate as you are for this, to see you swell with his baby again. 

Once his brain is working again, he slips from inside of you, collapsing onto the bed on his back, dragging you with him. He pulls you so close, his thighs spread wide so your body fits between them, your front pressed against his as you drape you entire self on him. He grabs your hands, bringing the wrists he was just gripping to his lips, kissing softly at the skin to soothe you. 

“Too much?” He mumbles into the top of your head, his chest heaving against yours as you both try and catch your breath.

“Just enough.” You mumble back into the sweat-soaked skin of his chest. 

It’s silent for a moment, both of you drifting in a haze of pleasure and exhaustion, but he speaks again as he wraps those arms around you, anchoring you right where you are, “I will spend the rest of my life proving how sorry I am to you.” 

“I believe you,” You muse, “I will always believe you.” 

And that’s how you both fall asleep, his arms cradling you to his body. He wishes that he could freeze time, enjoy this for longer than the few seconds he has before you fall asleep. He’s sick of your time always running out, of that ticking clock counting down to the unknown. He has no idea what’s going to happen once this weekend is over. Has no idea what you’re going to say to Tommy, what you’re going to propose to him. He’s never been good at relinquishing control, especially when he can’t for the life of him tell what’s going to happen. But, if there’s one thing he does know, it’s that what he said to you last night is true. That he trusts you with his life, and he will follow you blindly into whatever abyss you’re going to drag him into. 

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