#I guess this is just a roundabout way of saying ‘I wish I was into what other people are into so they would ask me about things more’

[thebirdandhersong]

cannot emphasize HOW MUCH

[harmonysanreads]

I want to one day walk up to Aventurine and Sunday, get on my knees, get ahold of their hand and passionately say “I know you kidnapped me but I want to get married!”.

Yes I am delulu and not right in the head.

Their reactions intersect so well I find it funny.

Both Aventurine and Sunday are on the verge of malfunctioning from sheer exhilaration for two whole seconds before their insecurities claw on them. You want to marry them? You want to spend the rest of your life with them? You want to share your joys, sorrows and even the unremarkable moments with them? This means you must feel the same way, right? Close, if not on equal grounds with their feelings? Unless, there is some ulterior motive? Are you secretly conspiring with someone else to stab them in the back? Because you're aware of how priceless you are to them, because you know that even if they take roundabout approaches and don't respond immediately, they'll ultimately acquiesce to your wishes?

And abide by your wishes they did. There's a maelstrom of doubt and paranoia clouding their heads, but you wouldn't really be able to tell unless you payed attention to their mannerisms.

Aventurine is quick to smile and then laugh, the laugh is equal parts disbelief and happiness. All those drastic measures and it turns out he guessed you wrong since the start? Sunday forces himself to calm down and Dear Ena, he can't think. When he asks you whether you mean it, whether you're serious and whether you actually love him or not ; please just answer him. He's going to need a moment to process everything.

Overall, they're both somewhat relieved because the thought of the confrontation and that there's a good chance they'd ultimately have to force it upon you didn't really feel that sweet on their tongues. But, they'd feel deflated as well. They have been planning for months for the day they'll propose, they searched for the perfect ring and rehearsed their lines multiple times in their heads only for you to beat them to it — and so casually at that? You might need to apologize with a tight hug for almost sending them to the ICU.

[semischarmed]

River

River was a walking enigma. 

Instagram, TikTok, Facebook- hell, I even tried looking for a yearbook. Nothing. I had nothing on the guy. Like an illusion, he merely appeared, did his work diligently and then promptly vanished. In fact, his most common phrase around the office was a “Sorry, I can’t- busy.” His distance seemed to put some people off. That only made me want him more.

When Chelsea threw a quitting party, he dropped in, chatted for a few minutes and then left without saying goodbye- except to Chelsea. He wasn’t rude by any means. I’ve only ever seen the guy be polite. I personally found it quite hot. His mysteriousness brought an allure about him.

During another quitting party- a dinner for Mark this time, I tried to make conversation, asking him why he was named River. I actually asked the question in a few roundabout ways. Most I ever got was a “just what my parents named me- they thought I’d have brown hair”. I tried to pry for his hobbies, asked what he did for fun and he only responded with a “I watch baseball, go to the gym, watch TV. I guess”, before asking me about mine. The conversation was cordial, and probably a little boring, but I was captivated. This had been the closest I ever sat next to him. 

My breathing quickened, ever so slightly, as I watched his shirt struggle to contain the form within. I traced the vascularity in his hands, the craftsmanship in the sculpt of his neck, the fabric of his shirt stretching taut when he would reach to grab a napkin. There was a full plate of food in front of me but I was only salivating at one thing.

The conditions were not ideal- but what choice did I have? The guy was like a ghost. I laughed a bit at the irony. I sat right across, trying to filter the scents and the sounds of food and camaraderie to focus on him. This would take all my brain power. I steadied my breathing and sharpened my focus, as I continued to answer and ask mundane questions about some work projects we both had. I started my work, mimicking every microexpression, every slight movement. I tailored every word from my mouth- even my delivery to slowly match his. This had to be subtle, of course- I’ve found out the hard way in the past how creepy this process could look in public if done too quickly. 

River’s eyes blinked slower, like a haze was forming in his mind. I followed suit, weaving my slight impersonation in and out of our conversation. Like a pulse, I felt our movements begin to sync. Almost there. Now came the tough part, slowly drawing him out and isolating him without lo-

“C’mon, let’s all get shots- uh… River you ok bro?” Mark asked.

He shook off his daze, surprised at himself before laughing off the weirdness. 

I was pissed the rest of the night, forcing myself to hide the permanent glare I would have worn for Mark. 

As the night drew on, River left early- of course, and I continued on, staying a bit longer to wish Mark well in one final toast for the night. 

That would be the last time in a while I’d be so close to him. The following drought was unbearable. For the next few months, no one quit. No big holidays were coming up, and our office wasn’t much for parties. Instead, I had to satiate myself with glances and the occasional short conversation.

= = = = 

“Does that work for you two?” My boss asked. I nodded readily, eyeing River’s response. Another nod.

Fuck. I practically jumped when the boss said those words. A presentation. A presentation with River. A chance.

I think I deserved an Oscar for my acting in the few weeks after we were both tasked with the presentation. A wrong font here, corrupted save there, a missed chart. I “worked” tirelessly on the presentation with River, making sure to leave enough mistakes and gaps to drag the process out. 

The guy was too polite, and I knew I had to use that against him. I ran the clock, watching the days progress into weeks and his brow furrow as stress deepened. Of course, I had to play my part, acting innocent at every step. A quick “sorry” for every mistake I planted was enough to ease suspicion. I even faked a confession about roommate drama causing my decline in performance. I thanked how private he was in that moment- I lived alone. Ever the hero, River was quick to take on the responsibility- even covering for me on few occasions. I knew I had to get inside this man.

Then came the day before the big presentation.

“I- uh… okay. Maybe we can finish this at my apartment,” He stated, clearly uncomfortable. I held back a moan.

= = = =

“You can set your stuff down there”.

It was a bit boring compared to what I expected. He was definitely put together at work, so it was a bit surprising to see some mess littering his apartment. 

A few posters dotted the walls. Some basketball guy, I guess. An action movie. A generic college banner. His furniture boxy and grey, and the carpets running through the floors were in need of cleaning. Perhaps unsurprisingly, his kitchen was pristine, practically sparkling, aside from a small collection of protein powders and supplements. 

“Uh.. sorry I don’t really have any snacks.”

He sheepishly opened the near-empty fridge and offered me a choice in drink. Some kind of pre-workout beverage and water. I took the water. 

“Okay, I need to head to the gym for a bit. You still have a few slides you wanted to add, right?” A Hoodie-wearing, duffel-toting River asked. I nodded, trying not to look too eager and straining to keep my eyes from staring at his well-defined legs. 

And then, there I was. Alone in River’s apartment. Alone with River’s apartment. I ran to his dirty laundry pile. 

“Mmmphhhh” My eyes rolled back as I took the deepest inhale of my life. These were River’s boxer briefs. The same ones he had just worn. Doused in the scent of a day’s work. It was damp- guess River was a sweaty guy, though the long walk and couple flights of stairs to get to his apartment may have also been culprit. I was paralyzed in bliss, as I took in every note of his natural musk. 

It reverberated deep in my chest as I continued to circulate every ounce of River I could inside me. The underwear was practically glued to my nose and mouth before I finally relented and drew them away, gasping for air. Exquisite. 

My dick jumped at the sight of a single strand of his pubic hair, like flickering flame. A perverse smile planted itself on my face as I gingerly pulled my clothes off. I shivered as the cold, damp fabric that had just touched his bare flesh was now touching mine. I felt his hair on my flesh, now caked in his sweat. The elastic snapped around my waist as I released, a bit tight. My breaths fell shallow, ragged as I sat there basking in his cold embrace.

Next came the tank top. I mentally hit myself for not putting it on first, as it was a significantly less erotic experience. Still, as I slipped my arms through the holes that his once filled, my dick couldn’t help but twitch in approval. 

I ran to his bed, gripped his sheets, and stifled another moan with his pillow. This man had, until today, been a full on mystery to me. And now, here I was- deep in the recesses of his apartment, nestled in the indent on his bed, buried in fabric stained with traces his scent and natural grime. I was drowning in the all aspects of his daily life. It was an intimacy with River previously unheard of and practically a miracle I hadn’t cummed yet. 

The next few moments were sluggish, mind hazy and drunk in pleasure, as I wore my jacket and pants over the River clothes I had already had on me. I mentally thanked myself for wearing tighter clothing earlier today, as I felt them compress River’s undergarments tighter on my flesh. I walked back, sitting on the dining table and pretending to work.

A few minutes later, the door clicked open and a panting River waved. He no longer had a hoodie on and left nothing to imagination. I eyed the feast before me.

I fucking knew it. This kid was ripped. 

I salivated as my eyes followed every contour of the body that would soon be mine. His flesh was flush and glistening with sweat.

“M-must have been some workout,” I mumbled. I couldn’t stop myself from staring.

“Yeah, fucking kicked my ass today,” River said with a short laugh. My dick twitched. River never swore, never gave off a jockish vibe at work, but here he was, beaten tired and unable to contain his natural state behind a facade of politeness. 

My lip quivered when his post-workout scent wafted into my nose. It was divine. True to his name, River had an earthy, deep musk about him. A delayed, almost sour afternote followed, the kind that clings to the nose. It riled me up, knowing this offensive, raw blast of testosterone had been working next to me for the past two years, hidden by layers of work clothes and pleasantries. River was cleaned, masked and sanitized for corporate America. And now I had a private showing to it. I was feral. I wanted-no, needed to be piloting this hunk for myself.

My trance was broken when River dropped to his couch, laughing slightly. This wasn’t his normal laugh- it dropped all pretense and I recoiled out of reflex, thinking back to that same laugh that emanated from the football jocks back in high school. 

A lazy pair of eyes drifted up to meet me. “Sorry bro, just new a few minutes.”

I gulped. This was my chance. No need for precision, no need for focus. River was vulnerable. In any other circumstance, I’d be syncing to his movements, slowly, imperceptibly altering his as he would start following mine. Then I could pull him into my trance, lead him to a safe area as I continued the process. This was different. River served himself up on a platter for me, beaten to near immobility by his workout. No way was I gonna miss this. I stripped quickly, abandoning my original plan.

Without a word, I walked closer to him, grabbing his wrists. 

“W-what are you”. In that instant, i jumped on top of him, allowing my body to follow the contours of his.

He grunted in defiance while I began to grind in pleasure. “Ughhh! Fuck bro. I can’t! I can’t wait. I can’t wait to be River!” 

The process was quick- his drenched, energy drained flesh practically grabbed at mine, drawn by my own energy into itself. It was osmosis. I moaned as I saw the process start, and River’ meaty form encapsulate my own. His arms and legs splayed as he screamed at the intrusion. “What the fuck are you-“ He grunted in pain as he felt our two forms begin to meld. I laughed a perverted laugh, eyeing how deep I was inside him. His lack of energy had been his downfall.

I licked the inside of his head, feeling him shiver and whimper at the intrusion. I whispered venomously. “What am I doing?” I thrusted myself deeper into his muscled form, “I’m becoming River. I’m gonna wear you like a fine red suit.” I felt my facial muscles match his and pulled him into a smile he did not intend to make. “You boring prude. This body was built for sex. You’re starving this poor thing. I bet it’s backed up.” I whined in half-whispers. “Let me take you for a ride.” River moaned in horror, kicking his legs into the sofa in discomfort as his muscled back began to close over me. Possessing the ginger felt like a warm, dank hug. “You feel that?” I teased, this time his voice mimicking mine. He could no longer respond as it had become my mouthpiece. Instead, his head repeatedly slammed the sofa in resistance, forced to wear a smile that was not his own. 

I laughed, feeling our combined chest heave in deep pleasure as I jammed my fingers deep into each bicep. I drilled into each arm, relishing in feeling his muscle fibers slip past me. Power. He shook as he tried in vain to resist my fingers filling into his. Putting on those vascular hands like well-fitted gloves. “Fuck yeah bro… that’s the stuff. Dominate me. Command me. Control my every move. My nerves are itching for their owner. Put this ginger meatsuit on…” I mock in his voice. Tears welled in my eyes, as I felt him continue to slam our slowly merging head into the sofa. I purse our lips before moaning further. “Wear my clothes…” My legs wove into his, twisting and binding into one. “Wear my personality…” the bottom half of our merged face laughs, while my new eyes blink away angered tears. I felt his memories begin to flow and surround mine. His rage and desperation flowed through me. The slamming slowed, coming to a complete halt as a reborn River’s eyes blinked into a lewd, sinful glee. “Wear my life.”

I stood up, piloting my new body towards the mirror. “You’re still in there, aren’t you?” River’s outward defiance no longer showed over his perfect flesh but his mind was a raging storm. “Good.” His body lit in searing pain, sore muscle tendon and fiber forced to flex. I felt the storm calm as he was stunned. I myself winced slightly before my arousal imprinted itself through River’s face. This was my pain now. I could feel every fiber of his musculature tearing and repairing themselves. Building back stronger with the pre-workout mix he had drunken earlier. Building back with me embedded deep inside. Our leg wobbled in pain, before I slapped it back into submission, forcing it to flex. “Fuck yeah, that’s the stuff.”

I roared and patted my new chest and abs. “YEEAAAH!” Just one last piece of me was left. An intentional dessert I had left not internally bonded with River. 

I let his normally stoic face relay the erotic pleasure I felt in wearing this flesh. I then pulled a “serious” face, bringing pained biceps into a flex. “We gotta live up to our name bro… gotta let the river flow”. A greedy tongue licked the dripping sweat hanging off ginger hairs of his armpit. I wanted to savor this. The tangy, salty nectar lingered in our shared tongue before I began to make out with my new reflection. With a grunt, I slammed River’s pelvis into the mirror, groaning as my growing hard-on began to fill into his dick. At first contact, I felt our senses mingle and the cold metal of the mirror. I grunted, trying to reign in the lust. With our linked sensitivity, I could feel my original body’s dick worming itself into my soon to be River-flavored cock. I thrusted my rod up, relishing in the soothing bare metal beneath the perverse cock and cock sleeve combination.

I grabbed at my new rod with one hand, while the other greedily dragged across my new body, feeling every new muscle and crevice and damp piece of the hunk. River thrashed inside me, disgusted at feeling his own flesh violate itself. At watching this new carnal entity that wore his face and name.

“S-someone’s gonna find out. Someone will fix this” He threatened in my mind. 

“No bro… you’re the perfect host. No one at work knows a thing about you”. I cooed in his voice. “When we quit, when I take this thick ginger cock for a joy ride-“ tug “No one…” tug “No one will know.” I groaned as the last of his dick bonded to mine. We were complete. “I’m River now!” I shouted before devolving into whimpers of pleasure as I felt River’s warm seed stream out of me. 

River’s softening, sore wood was forced back into full mast as I eyed the full extent of my- now his- depravity. Not wanting to waste a drop, I smeared my new lotion onto my new flesh, caking in layers of his drying sweat with layers of drying semen. I could only hear gagging in my mind as River was forced to taste his own produce. It’s my body now anyways, why shouldn’t it reek of sex and his natural musk?

[yureichi]

One thing I’m salty af about is that despite Oak saying the Folk adore Cardan and are terrified of Jude and Oriana saying that his sister cultivates both love and fear, the adoring part and the positive feelings weren’t really shown.

Save for Oak himself, all the other characters that mention them don’t seem to take them particularly seriously, they are always varying degrees of disdainful and condescending. Queen Annet referred to Jude as “that sister of yours” as if she was talking about some peasant instead of the High Queen. Cardan is being called a coward left and right either outright or in roundabout ways and when he told these faeries to leave when the ordeal with Garrett happened a few blissfully ignored the king’s order. First thing Madoc says to Oak as soon as his daughter the queen™️ unbanishes him? “If you had a powerful queen, it would be more possible to support you against the current occupants of the thrones. Let’s start scheming, just for kicks ~rubs hands conspiratorially~”. Unpopular opinion I guess, but I wish he stayed fucking exiled.

Like, outside the royal family and the Court of Shadows, only three characters seem to respect and acknowledge them in a positive light: Lord Roiben, Lord Severin and Grima Mog. And despite knowing better, I’m still pissed at how many Folk are assholes like that. It would be nice to see someone saying “yeah, they’re good rulers, they made improvements, this thing is better than it was when Eldred was king” for a change.

But I’m glad that at least when the fae are dicks to their faces, Jude and Cardan put them in their places with intimidation and clever phrasings. They are menacing, after all, but way too many people are still taking liberties as if they aren’t that important. Also, I took the “mortal concubine” personally and am glad that Valen dude was found hanged lmaooo.

[squidzillaa]

LeviHan Analysis of chapter 132:

I’m surprised I haven’t seen a single person (yet) discuss this scene. Levi is talking about Hange not forgetting him: (The lines were changed in the anime, but that’s understandable because his lines are vague and can be misinterpreted. ;)

Levi says “…you still want me asleep in bed? You’re going to forget I even exist if I rest any longer.” He uses the word “You” and “You’re” which implies only 1 person. Why would Armin forget he exists? Do you really think he's worried about Armin forgetting him? Why would Armin still want him in bed? The person who wants Levi to rest THE MOST and has been making sure he stays asleep, is Hange. He drags himself out of bed because he doesn’t want Hange to “forget” him. Especially because Hange, chapter 126, had recently confessed her love to Levi.

In his next line, he says “…anyway.” AS IF HE WAS TALKING TO HIMSELF. 😂 He then continues and is Now speaking to Armin.

Another thing, doesn’t this line seem a little random for him to be openly admiting this outloud to Armin? Levi is very honest, but he rarely voices his feelings out-loud when he’s struggling with something. Unless he’s with Hange. (He tells her everything.) And a lot of the times it’s in a roundabout way. This line is one of his most straightforward confessions. “I don’t want you to forget me.”

If he Was talking to Armin, do you really think his main concern here is Only Armin forgetting him? Why would he be concerned about Only Armin or Specifically Armin forgetting him? Now of course he wouldn’t Want to be forgotten by Armin, and the same goes for the scouts, but why would he voice that Only to him, and not include the REST of the scouts? He could have said “You guys are going to forget I even exist.” 🤔

Levi has done this “talking out loud” to Hange, when she isn’t there, 2 other times:

One can assume Hange was with him while he was trying to sleep, because the cabins only have one bed and Levi can Only sleep if Hange is with him. Levi is supposed to be resting (Hange’s wishes), but Hange leaves him to converse with Yelena. I’m guessing they got interrupted/notified with information about Yelena, that’s how he’s aware of Yelena being conscious again. He doesn’t really need to talk to Yelena because Hange will relay that information back to him. Plus he's not the biggest fan of Yelena 🧔🏼‍♀️😂, so I don’t think he really cares about listening to her. He just wants to be with Hange! ☹️ This is also the chapter that Hange dies in, so that line is foreshadowing. ☝🏻👥

After the forest scene, Levi and Hange aren’t shown interacting with each other, until his line of unrequited love for titans. The reason for that is because Hange and Levi already decided, in the forest, not to let their feelings get in the way of their duties. (They’re always putting humanity first! 💪🏻) Re-read chapters 127-132 and notice how often Levi looks for Hange, and tries to get her attention. (Especially when he’s trying to sleep and she leaves his side.) This line here, from Levi, is One of his last desperate attempts to get Hange’s attention. (It’s the 1st one, out of 4, during chapter 132.) ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Once you realize that Levi was talking about Hange with his line here, it makes things EVEN more depressing! AHHHHHH knife to the heart. 🗡️💔🥹😫🫡😵‍💫🦑

[cool-cowboy]

Stress Reliever

Tags:

Hate sex, Dominant Leon S. Kennedy, Roughness, Rough body play, Finger-fucking, Finger-sucking. Face-Fucking, Hair pulling, Dirty talk, Degradation, Name-calling, Praise kink, Rough sex, Overstimulation, Forced orgasm

Summary:

“Can you shut the fuck up already? Jesus christ, shut your hole and sleep.”

“Relax, Leon, what’s your problem? Being so fucking touchy.”

“You won’t stop talking. That’s my problem.”

“Someone needs some stress relief…”

In which you and Leon are long time partners, who are stuck sharing a bed on an overly stressful mission. Tensions are high, and with a suggestion for some "Stress Relief" taken the wrong way things take a turn.

Leon is MEAN, which I usually would think is out of character, but I justify it by saying he'd never really hurt his lover, maybe just shut them up in a not so nice way, plus you like it, so yeah. Older Leon, was thinking Vendetta because of his angry moments, but whatever you want works. Not something I'd usually write, but had the idea and wanted to try it out! Enjoy!

Text:

“Can you shut the fuck up already? Jesus christ, shut your hole and sleep.” He’s being an ass, a bigger one than usual, pissing both of us off with his sour attitude. We’ve been confined to sleeping in one room, the only place we’re secure in this city, which is currently crawling with B.O.W.’s. We’re both stressed, this mission is taking a million times longer than it was meant to, and is a million times more infested than we were told.

“Relax, Leon, what’s your problem? Being so fucking touchy.” I turn on my side, facing away from him, huffing in annoyance when I hear his head turn against the pillow to look at me. It was just a joke, a simple “Wow, this is pretty cozy” that set him off. I guess it was to be expected, he’s been like this for a long time, both of us have, always on edge and stuck with each other during our worst moods, but this assignment has felt different, a shift in the tension between us, something like that.

“You won’t stop talking. That’s my problem.” I sigh, dramatic enough I’m sure he’ll hear, his mumbled out curses against me thankfully too low for my ears to catch. I look back at him, looking at me, pissed, tired of my shit, he’d said.

“Someone needs some stress relief…” I let my brows lift, pursing my lips before turning to lay my head back down, his shuffling around behind me only making my aggression toward him worse. If he wants to sleep he should sit his jackass still instead of rolling around like an idiot.

“Maybe if there was a pretty girl around.” His voice is low, intentional, trying to hurt my feelings, and I have to admit that did strike a nerve, having someone as obviously attractive as him comment on my appearance, even in a roundabout way, is not ideal.

“Maybe if you were a little more charming.” I’m lying, well partly, he is charming, just not around me, too comfortable and too bitter to treat me very nicely. He grabs my shoulder, and I whirl around, knife to his throat, surprising him, his nervous swallow nearly cutting into his skin. “Don’t think you can manhandle me, Kennedy. Watch your fucking hands.” He doesn’t seem put off by my tone, or the knife against him, just looks down at me, propped up on his elbow, looking a little pleased, surprisingly.

“I’m not charming? What about after that gala for Alvarez when I had you begging for-”

“That was a long time ago, Leon.” He gives me a look, not happy I interrupted his teasing words. I shove my knife back into its sheath, huffing and moving to turn back away, stopped by a gloved hand gripped tight to my jaw, my eyes flitting up to meet his.

“I wish you never changed, you were a whole helluva lot more pleasant back then.” He narrows his eyes, looking at me disgustedly, as if he’s not keeping my face in his gaze against my will.

“Yeah, so were you. Now get the hell off me-” I push at his arm, laying back onto my back to shove at his chest, but he doesn’t budge, just staring in his judgemental, calculating way, not minding me struggling at all, his show of power oddly attractive, even if he is being an ass.

“I hate you.” He kisses me, harshly, a surprised noise escaping my mouth before he's over me, pinning my hands to my stomach, keeping his other gripped to my jaw, the pressure almost painful, his nails digging into my skin.

“Leon- What the-”

“Stress relief, yeah? C’mon, partner, do something I don’t hate for once.” He goes back to kissing, this time down my neck, huffing and nipping, just hard enough to hurt. “Quit fuckin’ squirming, you can never fucking sit still, can you?” He’s still mad, just channeling his anger into something a little more pleasant, holding me down and making me feel good, even if he is a lot rougher than I remember. “You want this? Tell me, say you want it or I’m stopping.” He speaks with his lips against my skin, his voice low and rough, lusty, his hand squeezing my wrists to quietly urge me to reply.

“Uh-Yes.” He comes back to my lips, kissing too hard, teeth mixing with lips, his low groan still angry, his hand tightening around my wrists, stinging from his nails.

“Really..? Can never shut your… goddamn mouth and now you’re… not gonna talk..? Stupid… you’re… So fucking annoying.” I let out a noise when he bites my lip, and he pulls back to take a look at me, both of us breathing heavy, angry, lips red and smeared with spit. “Who knew you’d be this easy? Fuckin’ moaning when I haven’t even touched you, dirty bitch.” He leans back down to my neck, biting down when I pull on my arms, my pained groan muffled by his free hand clamping down on my mouth. “Shut the fuck up, god you’re stupid, lucky you’re so damn hot.” He keeps his hand over my mouth, trailing his lips down the side of my throat, sighing into me before sucking hard on a spot at the base.

“L’n, Dn’-” I squirm, trying to get away from the inevitable mark his harsh sucking is going to leave, but he takes his hand from my mouth down to my throat, holding it and my hands, rendering me mostly immobile, sucking and groaning and grinding into my thigh until he’s had enough, pulling back and looking at me with low eyes and a small, satisfied smile.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it, I know how fucking nasty you are, you don’t have to pretend.” He uses my hands to push my shirt up, trailing his lips across my collar bone, sucking and nipping at my skin, groaning against me when I push my thigh up into his hips, his erection straining through his cargos. “That’s it, fuck, maybe you are good for somethin’.” He releases my hands, sitting back on his heels above me, making me feel small, meek below him, at his mercy, even if I didn’t want to be. “You wanna do this?” He’s breathing heavy, chest heaving, mouth opened, eyes peering down at me, his hands paused on the clasps of my harness.

“Yes.” He unclips it, yanking me up by the front of my shirt to get my arms out of it, rushing, ignoring my annoyed hum at him manhandling me to get the job done, tossing it off to the side once he’s got it off.

“You’re being so damn quiet.” He works on my shirt next, sitting me up in front of him to pull it up over my head, discarding it before letting his eyes wander. “So well behaved when you’re on your way to getting some dick, yeah? Naughty bitch, probably can’t wait for it, huh? You’re looking awfully needy…” He’s being mean, but anything else wouldn’t suit him, and I don’t mind, it’s all relatively true, and the comments are, embarrassingly, starting to turn me on.

“Fuck you.” He laughs, bitter, pulling my bra down my arms and tossing it away, shoving me back down onto the mattress by my sternum, leaning down to latch onto my nipple, groaning loudly and yanking one of my thighs up over his hip, a surprised moan escaping me when he grinds roughly into my crotch.

“You will, in a fuckin’ minute. Have some class, yeah?” He moves onto my other nipple, sucking hard enough to hurt, grinding into me at the same time he lets his teeth graze my sensitive flesh, grinning into my skin when I arch up into him. “Bad girl, you’re getting off on this, huh? You like getting treated like this? You’re sick.” He’s amused, teasing me, prompting me to shove my thigh up between his legs, enough to hurt, but not enough to seriously piss him off. He groans, biting me in protest, but he doesn’t seem bothered by the rough treatment either.

“Sounds like you are too. Drooling all over me when I-”

“Shut up, jesus.” I don’t really have a choice, his grip tight on my throat, his mouth working its way back up my neck to look me in the eyes. “Don’t think this changes anything, you’re still on my shit list, even-Fuck- you feel so damn good.” He lets his head rest in the crook of my neck, nudging my leg back outside his to grind into the crotch of my pants, his groan muffled by the quilt below us. “Wanna suck my dick? I bet you fuckin’ do, probably soak your damn panties while I fuck your pretty face.” I moan, I can’t help it, the feel of his body pressing down on me along with his words is overbearing, leaving me mushy, none of my usual fight left when he’s oozing authority like this. He pulls back, looking over my expression, watching as he slowly drags his dick up my slit, huffing amusedly when I gasp. “Yeah? You want to? Say it, pretty girl, tell me you want my dick in your mouth.” I nearly do, spit out whatever he wants, but I refrain, wanting to keep at least a shred of my dignity, moving my hands to push against him, trying and failing miserably to get him on his back.

“Yes, now get off!” He waits a moment, then relents, rolling off me to lay on his back, pulling me along with him, now straddling his hips, which continue to work against me as I work the clips of his harness, pulling him up the same way he did to me, only to be caught in a heated, harsh kiss, one of his hands hauling me closer into his lap, the other tugging on my hair roughly as he groans, using his hold on my hip to rock me against him. “Leon-” He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even acknowledge my hands pushing at him, just keeps kissing and groaning, refusing to budge until he’s had his fill, releasing me to finish what I was trying to do before he decided he had other plans.

“You’re too damn eager, pissing me off.” He’s quiet, his voice rough, low eyes watching me as I get his shirt up over his head, not looking pissed, dazed, if anything. “Terrible… So damn bad, needy for dick down your fuckin’ throat, yeah?” I frown, pressing a hand to his chest to shove him back down, and he lets me, giving me an unamused look when he slams into the mattress, but I ignore him, following him down to kiss at his neck. “ ‘s a little lower, sweetheart.” I bite him, a little harder than he did me, but he’s being annoying. He groans, loud, his hips rutting up roughly into me making me moan into my bite, my head pulling back to look at the mark, feeling pleased to have ruined him a little. “Goddamn, you evil girl, can’t expect me to treat you nice after that. Better fucking play nice or I’ll shove my dick into your pretty pussy without any prep.” I shoot him a look, my annoyance growing with just about everything he says, the anger subdued by our new entertainment.

“Maybe I won’t let you fuck me at all, If you wanna play that game.” I’m going to, no way I can pass this opportunity up, and neither is he, both of us gone way too long without caring for our needs, too pent up to refuse even the least preferable partner. I trail down, kissing and sucking and biting my way down his neck, his chest, feeling satisfied when his hands pull my hips down onto him, just as needy as me.

“Yeah right, we both know that’s bull, now shut up and show me what those pretty lips can do.” He lays his head back, propped up on the pillow so he can watch, my lips trailing down over his stomach making his muscles tense. I don’t give in yet, not happy with him being so bossy, just rest my head beside his obvious erection and letting my fingers ghost over it, pulling back when his hips rut up. “Don’t play this game with me, I’m a helluva lot meaner than you, I’ll make you wait ten times as long as me, keep that in mind.” He’s not happy about my teasing, but I guess I am being annoying on purpose, so I let my hand press more fully against him, palming him, letting him press his hips up into my touch, watching his eyes go closed and his head press back into the pillow.

“I’m easy? You’re fucking my hand right now. Shouldn’t a man your age know how to control himself?” He groans, reaching down to grab me by my hair, dragging my face over to press into his dick, the front of his cargos and his erection digging into the side of my face.

“You wanna say that shit again? God fuckin’ damn you’re annoying, just shut the fuck up and suck my dick.” Yeah, that did it, he’s pissed, holding me there when I squirm, the feeling of slick soaking my panties at his rough treatment making me a little sick to my stomach. His other hand comes down, the one in my hair dragging my head back so I can watch him unbutton and zip his pants, his dick hitting me in the face when he pulls his pants and boxers down over his hips. He grabs his erection, already red and shining with pre, tapping it against my lips, staring at me with lust mixed with his usual annoyance, his eyes narrowed, his lips parted, chest heaving with quickened breaths. “You gonna be good and suck it or d’you want me to cram it down your slutty fucking throat.” I frown at that, but he doesn’t seem to care, too into his role, pulling me up onto my hands and knees by my hair, ignoring my pained groan to press my lips to the head of his dick. “Go ahead, sweetheart, don’t make me treat you rough, yeah?”

I don’t mind the rough treatment, I know he wouldn’t actually hurt me, he’s just as into this as I am, even if he is a lot more composed, he knows this is a game, an exaggeration of our usual tiffs to give us a reason to let out some pent up aggression. I close my lips over the tip, sucking lightly, moaning at the taste of pre on my tongue, my eyes flitting up when he groans, his eyes on me, his grip on my hair coaxing me down. I don’t refuse him, just slide down until I can’t take anymore, my attempt to pull back up stopped by his hand on my head, holding me down on him.

“Deeper, c’mon, you took all of it last time.” I press down, gagging, trying and failing to pull off him, tears pricking at my eyes as I watch his head press back, a low groan sounding out into the room. “That’s fuckin’ it, tryna hold out on me? God, you look pretty gagged on my dick, fuckin’ crying for it.” He pulls me off, all the way, when I tap repeatedly on his thigh, not as ruthless as he’d like me to believe. “Can’t take it?” I take a deep breath, using my hand to hold his dick up then sinking down, all the way, gagging around him before pulling back up and doing it again. “Shit, nasty bitch, you’re too damn good at that. Suck lots of dick? I bet…” He’s looking at me, pulling on my hair when I look away, forcing my eyes back up to his face, enjoying himself a little too much. “Wanna let me fuck that pretty face?” I moan around him, sinking down again, and he groans, pulling me off him to shove me down beside him, dragging me a little higher by my hair, positioning my messy face back above his leaky dick.

“Not too rough, Leon.” I give him a look, expecting some snarky comment, but he just nods, too worked up to deny me this, his hand urging me to wrap my mouth back around him, and I do, one elbow pressed into the mattress beside him, my other palm on his hip.

“That’s it, I’ll be nice, don’t-ah- don’t worry…” He starts out slow, shallow, propping up a leg to give him the mobility he needs to thrust into my waiting mouth. “Shit, this is so fucking good, you look good with my dick in your mouth, sweet girl. Gonna cream your fuckin’ throat, you want that?” I moan, and he presses my head down, only an inch, but now he’s hitting the back of my throat, and I gag at the unexpected depth, my throat closing around him making him let out a breathy moan, his fingers gripping harshly into my scalp. “Fuck, that’s it, better relax, let me in, come on…” I try, but he’s speeding up, nudging at the back of my throat, forcing me to gag over and over, his eyes on me, my spit trailing down and pooling around the hair at his base. “Makin’ a mess, god, gonna go faster, yeah? Stop me if you can’t take it.” He doesn’t show me any mercy, working his hips up and shoving my head down, tears soaking my skin as I claw into his hip, his whiny groan making me clench on nothing, the lewd noises my throat is making ripping needy noises out of the both of us. “I knew you could-Fuck- take it, you want it, want me to fuck your tight little throat. I bet that sweet little clit is throbbing, yeah? Poor girl, so needy-ah- for- me.” He’s getting close, his hips stuttering every now and then, his eyes falling closed to enjoy the sensation of my wet heat, his dick pushing past the muscle keeping him out of my throat. He pushes his non-supporting leg between mine, bending his knee to rub it into me, offering minute relief, and a distraction from the lack of air I’m getting.

“Shit, nearly there, keep squeezing that mouth on me, just like that, you’re doing so good. So fuckin’ dirty, letting me shove my dick-ngh- You look so good, you’re so messy. You fucking love this shit don’t you? Fuck, that makes it even better, watching you get off to getting your face fucked- shit-!” His head lolls back, and his rhythm goes patchy, my choking only getting louder the longer I don’t get air, my head feeling fuzzy when he reaches his free hand down to rub my clit through my pants, my surprised moan making his hips stutter. “Only a little longer, you’re nearly there, just let me-Ngh- Fuck that pretty mouth a little longer, let me give you what you’ve been missing Yeah? Gonna cum, gonna fucking cum down your pretty goddamn throat, fuck, keep fucking going, keep- shit- just, oh fuck, take it, fucking take it-” He buries himself inside, my lips flush with his base, his dick forced down my throat when he twitches, groaning and rubbing intensely at my clit, making my legs shake as I dig my nails into his skin, moaning around him as he leaks cum straight down my throat.

“There we go, you did so good, better than I thought. Almost don’t wanna let you off, just let your throat stay wrapped so nice around me…” He doesn’t, thank god, he pulls me off, and I gasp for breath, my arm collapsing and leaving my face pressed into the spit on his stomach, my chest heaving, his hand smoothing my hair. “You’re okay, just breathe, surprised you didn’t need a break… Just calm back down, deep breaths, yeah?” He’s being kind, probably for the first time in years, wiping at my tear-stained cheek as I calm down, watching me with none of his usual annoyance, just mild worry, something I don’t often get, not dainty enough and too well trained for anyone to have any reason to be worried about me. “Ready for your turn?” He doesn’t wait on my response, just turns us over, crawls down to leave his face above mine, looking way too attractive for a man I thought I hated.

“Leon-”

“Shh, don’t start being annoying again or I’ll have to fill that perfect fucking mouth a second time.” And he’s back, giving me a mildly disgusted look before leaning down to kiss at my neck, gripping my jaw to tilt my head back, trailing his teeth down my jugular, laughing when I moan. “See? Just keep your big ass mouth shut and you’ll get what you want.” His free hand is working on my pants, greedy fingers pushing past the waist once they’re unbuttoned, his rough thumb dragging with harsh pressure over my clit making me flinch. He laughs, low and bitter, kissing down to close his lips around an already hard nipple, letting his teeth close over it, biting down a little harder when I try and pull him off. “Fucking stop that.” He collects my hands, shoving them above my head and holding them there, his grip on my wrists a little tighter than it should be, his calloused skin digging into mine.

“Just sit your annoying ass still and shut the fuck up.” He returns to the same nipple, only after giving me a look, letting his teeth close over it again, which hurts, but I focus on his hand, his thumb rubbing circles over my panties, dipping down to swipe over the slick-soaked patch. He groans, his teeth tightening making me hiss, but he releases it, trailing over to the other side, speaking with huffed breaths between lazy kisses. “You’re so… Damn sensitive… Such a… Naughty fuckin’ girl… grinding this sweet pussy up into my hand…” I hadn’t even noticed I was doing that, chasing pleasure to offset the pain. I moan pleasedly when he slips his fingers under my underwear, neglecting to collect any of my wetness before rubbing my clit, his thumb rough against my dry nerves making me squirm, movement quickly stopped by a pointed squeeze to my wrists.

“Leon, that hurts- Can you-”

“Told you to take it.” He doesn’t look amused, just pulls back to stare at me, pressing his thumb more firmly against me, staring at my face as my legs shake, making me embarrassed. I’m getting close when he dips his fingers down, collecting slick onto his pointer and middle, avoiding my clit on the way back up, pulling them out and between us, held up for the both of us to see. “You soaked your pretty panties… Too bad, wasted some.” He separates his fingers, sticky strings connecting them making him groan before he looks at me, pressing his fingers into his mouth, moaning around them as his eyes go half-lidded, his dick filling back out before my eyes, rested heavy along the outside of my arousal. “Shit, for an annoying little bitch you sure do taste good. Let’s get these off, let me get you ready for me, yeah?” I nod, not wanting to speak out of turn and have him change his mind, his threat of going in without prep a little daunting at his size, even if I am soaked.

He shuffles down the bed, bringing my hands down to rest on my stomach, resting his knees on either side of mine, pulling my pants and underwear down without much gentleness, yanking up on my leg when he can’t get one side off. “Here we go, you look good like this…” He settles himself between my legs, pressing one knee down into the bed to give him room, his eyes on my face when his thumb returns to my clit, pressing too hard, making me shake. “So damn easy, huh? Too worked up from getting dick stuffed down your throat?” I can’t help the moan that comes out of me, low and breathless, my eyes meeting his when I feel his fingers pressing inside, two of them, curling up on the way back out, pressing hard into my G-spot unexpectedly. “Good, huh? Needy girl… That fuckin’ looks you’re giving me is so fucking good, so goddamn desperate for me, yeah?” I can’t talk, not that I think he really wants me to, I’m too busy shaking like a leaf, my legs held in place by his arm and hand, his fingers and thumb working against me in an almost painful way, too much at once, bringing me to the brink of orgasm quicker than I thought possible.

“Shit, Le- oh my god, Leon-” I can’t form anything coherent, but he knows, he’s doing it on purpose, enjoying it, watching me with hazy eyes, ignoring the loud squelching of his fingers fucking into me to watch my expression.

“Gonna cum? Yeah? Go ahead, fuckin’ do it, soak my fingers so I can use them to slick up my dick. C’mon, dirty girl, you’re so damn close, cum on my fingers…” I’m nearly there, letting out a whiny moan when I feel it coming, but he stops, not seeming to have any reaction to my annoyed groan, just looking at me, not making any move to explain himself.

“Why-”

“Not yet.” He waits a few more seconds before he starts up again, the squelching even more lewd, his fingers pressing inside over and over, his thumb pressed painfully into my clit, his teeth closing on the skin of my thigh when I clench around his fingers. “Fuck, squeezing me, you’re so wet, sucking me in. Ready to cum? I’ll let you this time as long as you don’t pull on those hands again, just fuckin’ take it. There you go, you’re so ready, give it to me, fucking give it to me, cum on my fingers like the dirty little bitch you are.” That does it, but he doesn’t stop, continuing the same pace, fucking me through my orgasm, holding down my leg that tries to close, groaning when I gush all over the quilt. “Jesus Christ, making a fuckin’ mess, so fucking bad…” He doesn’t stop even once my orgasm is over, or when I squirm from overstimulation, he holds me down, fucking his fingers into me, watching my face as he forces me toward another high, his fingers way too rough on my oversensitive nerves. “Stop fucking moving, sit your stupid ass still and take it. This is what you want, yeah? So stop fucking fighting me.” I can’t take it, my moans more like whimpers with how rough he’s being, and how long I’ve gone without a break in stimulation. I'm desperate for a break, it's painful, and my writhing does nothing to stop him, he just keeps going, refusing to listen to my pleading.

“Leon, please- Fuck, please stop. No more, please just- I can’t-”

“You can. You like this shit, fucking moaning and shaking like that, you want it, so fucking take it.” I throw my head back, letting the painful pleasure wash over me, my next orgasm approaching a lot faster than the first, his fingers too skilled, his eyes on my face making me feverish, the intensity of all this making me hot and want to puke. “C’mon, fucking give it to me, it’s just one more, you can handle it, Agent. You can handle the DSO and not an orgasm, yeah right. Now, give it to me, god you look fucked, you’re a goddamn mess, can’t wait to fuck you even stupider than you already are, bet you can’t wait either, so let go, stop being prideful and-” I cut him off with a whiny moan, my legs closing against his wishes, his fingers refusing to leave me until I come down, his expression displeased I squirmed my way out of his hold.

“Le… No more… Don’t…” He sighs, lifting up to crawl himself between my legs, trailing light kisses along my skin, groaning against my neck when his dick brushes my hip. He sits up to look at me, unhappy, letting one of his hands slide down my side to grip his dick, jerking himself slowly against my skin, a pleasured expression taking over his displeased one.

“C’mon, haven’t I proved I can make you feel good, let me give you one more, have you squeeze that pretty pussy on me while I cream your insides.” I let out a dazed moan, his offer sounding good, even if I am completely spent, in no position to be telling him no when the thought of him inside of me is so tempting.

“Shit, okay… Slow?” He gives me a look, one that tells me my request is not likely to be granted, his hand pushing him up to seated above me, his other still stroking his swollen, flushed dick.

“You don’t want it slow… I know how to treat someone bad as you, I’ll take care of you.” He turns me over, and I let him, groaning into the sheets when he drags my hips back, leaving my face pressed to the bed, my hands clenched around thick fabric. “This’ll keep you quiet, huh? God you’re soaked, gonna fuck you so good.” He gives me warning, rubbing his dick up and down my slick, groaning when I jerk away from pressure on my clit. “You’ve had a break, now you’re gonna take my dick, let me cum in this nice, tight-” He presses inside, the stretch a little too much, two of his fingers not doing much to get me ready.

“Fuck, feels even better than I remember. Jesus Christ you’re hot like this, dick drunk and letting me do whatever I want. Wish you were always like this, quiet and presenting me your sweet ass to fuck.” I moan, muffled by the sheets, his words making me clench around him, feeling disgusted with myself for letting him treat me like this, but I’m too gone to care, too fucked out and full to give a shit who’s giving it to me. He’s thrusting now, puling my hips back to slam into him, being rough against my wishes, and it hurts, but the dull pleasure is still there, growing with each thrust, his hips angled up to give me some relief. “God, you feel so fucking good… Wish you didn’t make me want to squeeze that pretty throat every time you open your stupid fucking-ah- mouth. Jesus, you’re loving this, squeezing the fucking life out of me.” He slides a hand around, collecting my hands to hold behind my back, taking away my stability and using his grip to pull me back onto him, groaning loudly when he squeezes my ass, fingernails digging into my skin.

“Le- Fuck, Leon, please-ngh- please…” I’m nearly sobbing, my face pulled out of its hiding spot by his pulling on my bound arms, keeping my upper body suspended in the air as he bounces me on his dick, the squelching and his hips hitting my ass and his whiny groans all making me fuzzy, another orgasm on its way.

“Please fucking what? Fuck you harder? Goddamn, you are too fucking hot. Haven’t had anybody since that night at the gala, believe- ah- that? Never fucking wanted anybody else, this pussy is too fucking good for me to settle.” I moan, clenching around him in response to his confession, and he lets out a strangled noise, his rhythm breaking for a few seconds until he gets his bearings. “You like that? Good, ‘cause from now on I’m not gonna wait fifteen years between-Shit! Holy shit, you about to cum? You’re being so goddamn loud, didn’t I tell you to-ah- shut the fuck- up…” He’s close, his hips fucking inside and grinding roughly into me, his grip on my wrists sure to leave bruises, his hand coming down on my ass making me le tout a surprised yelp.

“You squeeze me so fuckin good when I do that. I need you to hurry up, cum on my dick, push that pretty pussy back and take what you need. Yeah, that’s fucking it, good job, fucking yourself on my dick, fuck, yes, yes, go ahead, cum, jesus, please, just hurry the hell up and-” He cuts himself off with a choked moan, his upper body folding over me, arms tight around my stomach, his hips pressing as deep as he’ll go, my orgasm a hazy pleasure, the feeling of his dick emptying into me making me moan. He doesn’t stop there, works his hips into me well after he’s done cumming, shoving his release deeper, ignoring my whining and struggling to get away as he sighs contentedly into my shoulder, both of us still and coming down when he speaks. “I don’t hate you, y’know?” I sigh, reaching to push against his hip, my request granted this time, his soft dick slipping out, his hands guiding me back to seated.

“I know.” It’s all the stress, we’re both well aware that’s why we’ve been at each other’s throats, everything to do with our jobs, nothing to do with the two of us.

“Was I too much?” I huff, leaning back on the pillow and watching him, looking more relaxed than I’ve seen him in years, peaceful.

“You ask that now?”

[sequinsmile-x]

Movie Night

Emily doesn't remember the last time they watched a film that wasn't their daughter's favourite, so Aaron hatches a plan.

-x-

Hi friends,

This is some nice family fluff for you all on this Friday evening <3 this all came from a conversation with @eobangingwhen, so I'm dedicating this to her.

I promise I will write something more than pure fluff very soon haha

Hope you all enjoy this, and as always let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: vague spoilers for Frozen and Star Wars VI I guess??

Words: 3k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

There were moments when she found it hard to believe this was her life. 

It was strange to think that only six years ago she was in Paris, convinced she’d never feel safe again. That her penance for her actions which had led to a gravestone with her name carved into it was the loneliness she’d felt there. The fear she would have once believed would never fade a punishment from a God she wasn’t entirely sure she had ever believed in. She wished she could go back and talk to that version of herself, that she could assure her that life would get better than it ever had been before, that she’d end up with a family of her own. 

The idea of it always made her smile, because she knew even if it was possible she’d never believe herself anyway, especially when she would reveal her husband was Aaron. 

She’d had a crush on him for as long as she could remember, a flipping in her gut whenever he was near that had morphed into something more powerful as time went on. A feeling she knew was love the moment he was missing after Foyet had attacked him. Their timing had never been right, feelings she now knew he’d had for her growing at the same rate as hers that had to be ignored because of circumstance. For a long time, it felt like they’d never get a chance, so she’d convinced herself it would never happen. An attempt to protect herself from any more pain, sure that if she attempted something that wasn’t reciprocated would leave her with a brand on her heart more painful than the one Ian had left on her skin. 

It made her grateful for this, made the difficult moments of parenthood and marriage easier to swallow when she reminded herself she could have missed out on him, on them. Her life a quilt made of ordinary moments, memories stitched together and laid over her like a comfort blanket that she relied on in her worst moments, when her monsters snuck out of the shadows and convinced her she would somehow lose all of this. 

She smiles as her daughter presses herself in the small space between her and Aaron, the three-year-old insistent on being as close to them as possible at all times. Alice smiles at them both as she rests her head on Aaron’s arm, sinking into his embrace when he wraps his arm around her, his hand coming to rest on his wife’s thigh. He smiles at Emily and winks before he looks at their son, Elliot, curled up on his mother’s chest, his hand tangled in her hair as he tries to fight off sleep. The 18-month-old always wanted to be involved in everything, his focus always on his older siblings, and very often Emily and Aaron had to hoist him up into their arms, lifting him off his feet so he didn’t follow them to the roundabout at the local park and get too involved with the bigger kids rougher games. 

“Mommy, can we watch Frozen?” Alice asks, her sweet voice drawing her attention to her and Emily has to suppress a sigh. 

Alice loved Frozen. She wanted to watch it all the time, the movie one of the few things that would hold her focus. They’d watched it so often that Emily was sure she could recite it word for word, her disdain for Olaf the snowman enough that she’d planned his death in more than one way. 

She never thought she’d loved Aaron more when she quietly admitted that to him one evening, shame dripping from every syllable as she told him just how much she hated their daughter’s favourite character, and his only response was to say he’d done the same thing. 

“Sweetie,” Emily says, taking one hand off of Elliot’s back and tucking some of Alice’s hair behind her ear, “Maybe Jack wants to pick the movie for once.”

Alice pouts a little, and frowns at her, but any comment from the little girl is cut off by Jack from Emily’s other side.

“It’s okay, Mom,” he says, smiling at her when she turns to look at him, “I don’t mind if we watch it again.” 

She reaches out and ruffles his hair, smiling when he dives out of the way, the pre-teen on the cusp of being constantly embarrassed by his parents. 

“Are you sure honey?” 

He nods, smiling as his little sister beams at him, and he shrugs as if it’s no big deal, “She loves it.” 

Aaron squeezes Alice closer to him. He looks back and forth between Jack who was sitting at the other end of the couch and then at his watch. Jack was endlessly patient with his younger siblings. He loved being a big brother and always went with the flow, but he could see the flash of horror going through his son's eyes as he thinks about spending another evening watching the animated movie. 

“How about we watch it now,” Aaron suggests, looking up at Jack, “And Jack can play his game whilst we do,” he smiles when his eldest smiles and nods, already walking over to the Nintendo Switch they’d bought him and turning it into handheld mode, “And then when you go to bed Mommy and I will watch something Jack wants to watch.” 

Alice nods enthusiastically and Aaron grabs the remote, well aware the Frozen DVD would already be in the player, and he starts the movie. Alice is enraptured for the start, her eyes fixed on the screen as she sings along.

“I don’t remember the last time we watched a movie that wasn’t made for children,” Aaron eventually says quietly so only Emily can hear, Alice too lost in the movie, as if it was the first time she’d ever seen it, and Jack in his handheld video game to hear their parent’s quiet discussion.

She hums and raises her eyebrow at him, running her fingers through Elliot’s hair, the toddler now fast asleep against her, “I don’t remember the last time we watched a movie that wasn’t Frozen.” 

He smiles at his wife and leans in to kiss her cheek, only to be immediately chastised by Alice, who turns to look at him, a glare Emily would say was all him on her face from where she’s sitting between them.

“Daddy - watch Frozen!” 

“Yeah, Daddy,” Emily says, winking at him over Alice’s head, a promise for later hiding in the action that makes his stomach swoop, just as enamoured with his wife as he was on their first date. “Watch the movie.” 

Time alone was rare these days, even rarer than it always had been and all of a sudden he found himself desperate to just spend time with his wife. To watch a movie that they picked and snuggle on the couch the same way they did when they were first dating and Jack had gone to bed. 

He watches the movie but doesn’t pay any attention, his focus instead on planning a date night as soon as possible. 

___

Emily sighs to herself as she shakes her head, unable to focus on the paperwork in front of her. It had been a rough night. Elliot had barely slept, his shift from two naps a day to one having an impact it hadn’t had with Alice. He’d been fussy all night, crying out for Mama even when Aaron went in to try to settle him. Eventually, he’d woken up Alice and she’d crawled into their bed and fell asleep in between them. 

She blinks blearily, massaging her fingers into her temples as she desperately tries to pay attention to her work, and she smothers a yawn. She smiles tightly at Spencer as they catch each other's gaze over the divider between their desks and then she looks back at the paperwork, determined to get at least some done today. 

“Emily, do you wanna-”

Later, she’d blame her exhaustion for how she replies to Specner, her brain automatically taking over her mouth because they’d yet again watched Frozen that morning, the movie on in the background to keep Alice and Elliot happy as she and Aaron desperately sucked down coffee and half-cold oatmeal.  

“Honey, Mommy really doesn’t have the energy to build a snowman right now.”

Her eyes go wide as soon as she says it, her brain finally catching up with her surroundings and she groans when the moment of shocked silence is filled with laughter, Derek’s the loudest. She covers her eyes with her hands and curses under her breath.

“I think somebody should go get Mommy a cup of coffee,” Derek says, and she looks up and narrows her eyes at him, her glare doing nothing to stop his smirk. 

“That’s actually what I was going to ask,” Spencer asks, his cheeks burning with embarrassment as he stands up, “I’ll go get you one.” 

“Alice still obsessed with Frozen, huh?” JJ asks, turning to look at them and Emily nods, groaning again as she thinks about it. 

“It’s all she ever wants to watch. I never thought it was possible to hate an animated snowman as much as I do,” she narrows her eyes, “I’d melt the son of a bitch if I could.” 

JJ chuckles sympathetically, “For Henry it was Cars,” she says, shaking her head as she crosses her arms over her chest, “I actually once dreamt that I cut Lightening McQueen’s break line.” 

Emily laughs, any guilt she may have felt for disliking her daughter’s favourite movie as much as she did fading, “You have no idea how much better that makes me feel.” 

Derek clears his throat, his smile getting wider as he gets her attention, and he leans back in his chair, his hands on the back of his head, “So, Mommy what are your and Hotch’s evening plans?” 

She rolls her eyes and actively ignores the use of the moniker, “The usual.” 

Spencer walks back over and places the coffee down on her desk, smiling at her before he returns to his own desk. The smell of it alone is enough to reinvigorate her and she picks it up and immediately takes a sip.

“Thanks, Spence,” she says, smiling gratefully at him, “I appreciate it.”

He shrugs nonchalantly, “No problem.” 

“Yeah,” Derek says, “We’ve got to be nice to our Momm-”

“Derek Morgan if you call me Mommy one more time I will make sure you never have kids of your own,” she says, cutting over him. She purposely holds her glare, suppressing her need to laugh, when his eyes go comically wide, clearly very aware that she’s serious. 

“Why are you threatening Morgan, sweetheart?” Aaron asks, and she looks up, smiling softly when she sees him standing on the walkway, leaning on the railing above their desks. 

She knows he’s tired too for two reasons. Firstly, because he used a nickname for her in the office, a tiny piece of their personal life slipping free, the sharp line between the two parts of their lives slowly getting blurrier. Secondly, he had an Elsa sticker on the lapel of his jacket.

It was something Alice frequently did. She would carefully select a sticker and place it diligently on his jacket, she did the same for Emily too, claiming it would protect them as they fought the bad guys. She knew that usually, Aaron would remove it the second he got to the office and shrugged off his coat. He would place it on a photo frame on his desk, the picture inside of it one of Emily and the kids, a collection of brightly coloured cartoon characters surrounding a photo of his family. A much needed contrast to the usual horror that crossed his desk in their case files, a reminder of all the good there was in the world. 

She had a similar collection too, although she placed her stickers on the inside of one of her drawers, safe and protected from any unsub that might be brought through the bullpen, not wanting to give them any access to something they might consider a weakness. 

She smiles at her husband and taps her own lapel, “Honey…” 

He looks down and clears his throat, pulling the sticker off of his jacket with more tenderness than his hands should be capable of. A smile flashes across his face that she knows he can’t control, and he nods briefly at them all.

“I’d better go put this away,” he says as he turns and walks back into his office. 

“You guys are so cute-”

She turns and looks sharply at her friend, “Derek, I swear to God.” 

The rest of the day drags by, minutes feeling like hours as her exhaustion slowly returns. When it’s time to go home she immediately jumps up, smiling at her husband as he exits his office exactly on time. He takes her bag from her the moment he makes it to her side, ignoring her playful eye roll. 

“Ready to go home, sweetheart?” 

She hums, “God yes,” she says, checking her watch and hissing, knowing if they didn’t leave immediately they’d hit traffic. “We have to go get the kids.” 

“Actually,” he says, waving goodbye to the team as they step out through the glass doors and towards the elevators, “Jess went to get them. And right now they will all be very excited to have a sleepover at hers.” 

She smiles, narrowing her eyes at him as he reaches for her hand, linking their fingers together, “What are you up to Mr Hotchner?” 

He winks at her and squeezes her hand again, a silent promise pressed into her skin, “That’s for me to know and you to find out Mrs Hotchner.” 

___

He takes her home via their favourite pizza place, refusing to tell her anything else about his plans for the evening as they drive home. 

It’s only once they’ve eaten, talking softly over slices of pizza, the house so much quieter than usual it makes her ache a little, that he tells her they are going to watch a movie together just the two of them. They call the kids and talk to them over FaceTime to say goodnight, and Emily can’t help but smile at the sight of all three of them squished together as they fight to get their faces in the frame, each of them desperate to see their parents despite their excitement to be at Jessica’s. 

Once they are done speaking to the kids, she smiles widely at Aaron as he tells her to settle on the couch and that he’ll go get them some wine as he clears the pizza boxes, an instruction he signs off with a gentle kiss stamped against her lips. She chuckles when he brings in the wine. He’d served it in plastic Death Star shaped cups they’d got at DisneyWorld the year before. He waggles his brows at her as he hands her one and she laughs again, leaning in to press a kiss against his lips as he settles on the couch next to her. 

“I don’t need many guesses to know what film we’re watching,” she says, kissing him again before she pulls back to take a sip of her wine, “You thought of everything.” 

He shrugs as if it’s nothing, as if the gentle way he loves her wasn’t the thing that kept her afloat, and he places his cup of wine down on the table, “I just thought it’s been a while since we did this just the two of us.” 

She hums and nods, putting her wine down next to his before she snuggles into his side, sighing contently as his warmth immediately starts to leach into her. He reaches for the remote and starts the DVD player and she smiles when she sees the menu for A New Hope already on the screen, and she idly wonders when he got the chance to put the DVD in the player, a small part of her hopeful he’d somehow lost the Frozen one in the process. 

“Are you sure you want to watch Star Wars, honey?” She asks, tilting her head to look up at him. She rakes her fingers through his hair, love for him threatening to burst out of her chest, “We could watch something more grown up, who knows when we’ll next have the chance?” 

“It’s your favourite movie, Em,” he says simply, stamping his lips against her forehead as he presses play, “I wouldn’t want to watch anything else.” 

She shakes her head at him and kisses him, her hand on his cheek to hold him in place as she sighs into his mouth. When she pulls back she rubs her nose briefly against his, unable to stop her smile even if she wanted to, “I love you.” 

“I know,” he replies, his voice deadpan and she playfully glares at him. He laughs and leans in to kiss her again, “I love you too,” he says, kissing her once more before the scrolling text appears on the screen, “Now pay attention.” 

She chuckles and rests her head on his shoulder, content and relaxed as she snuggles further into him as he lays a blanket over their laps. She wraps both of her arms around one of his and hugs it, safe and happier than she ever thought possible as she sits next to her husband. Snuggled up on their couch in their home, watching a movie she probably knew by heart. It was achingly ordinary, and she would never stop being grateful that this was her life. 

He notices she’s quieter than she usually is when they watch this. She’d normally whisper lines half a second before the characters said them or tell him a fact about the behind the scenes, not embarrassed about her self-declared nerdiness around him, but she’s silent. He looks down and chuckles to himself when he sees her eyes drifting closed and he kisses her forehead, shifting her gently so her head is resting on a cushion in his lap. He runs his fingers through her hair, scratching gently at her scalp as he does so, and she hums contentedly. 

She’s asleep before Princess Leia is captured. 

-x-

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[hyperfixated-gvf]

Baby, It's Cold Outside

On the third day of Tropemas, hyperfixated-gvf gave to me:

A One-Bed fic with whiny sub!Jake, and it's a Neighbor's AU, too!

Christmas Song Pairing: “Christmas Eve" by Justin Bieber

Trope: One Bed

~~~

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: Language, smut, F. Dom, M. Sub, pet names, a tiny bit of restraint, a single tear, begging, oral sex (f. receiving)

Words: 4.4k

Author's Note: Thank you all for your kind words and generous reblogs, tags, and comments, they mean the world to me! They're also addictive, just so you know ;) Anyways, this one got away from me a bit, so I've decided that each boy will have one longer smut piece and the others will be short and under my self-imposed word limit. Except for Danny. My love gets all the long smut.

18+ / MINORS DNI

~~~

“Mom, I frew up.”

You almost slammed the door on Jake’s face when he tiredly looked at you with his mournful, moony eyes, but the fact that his own joke only made his lips twitch told you that he actually had a reason to be at your apartment door at 1:45 am. 

The twins were good neighbors. Relatively, at least. You could sometimes hear them arguing through the wall, and other times, you had to send them a text to get them to stop playing their instruments into the wee hours of the morning. Your little duplex townhouse walls weren’t all that thick, but other than the occasional noise complaint that they always dutifully listened to, you were glad to have the happy-go-lucky musicians next door. With how many game nights you’d had and beers you’d shared, you’d even go as far to say that you were friends.

So, you sighed and leaned against the frame, looking at the man expectantly. “What do you need, Jake? This beauty needs her sleep.”

Jake nodded back to his own place, making a face that was both pitiful and disgusted at the same time, which was quickly explained when he said, “Josh brought someone home, and usually some headphones will fix it, but…oh god, please don’t make me describe my trauma.” 

He shivered in the cold December air, and that’s when you realized that he didn’t have shoes on and the only clothes protecting him from the wind were his threadbare sleep shirt and equally frayed plaid pajama pants. All in all, he looked like a little puppy, trembling from the cold and without a place to sleep for the night.

You were no monster; there had been enough nights in your life as a roommate where you wish you didn’t have ears at all that you recognized and acknowledged his pain, but the thing was, you weren’t sure what he wanted you to do about it.

“I won’t. But I..sorry, I’m just not sure what this has to do with me.”

Trying to make it as gentle as possible so that you didn’t put him off, there was really no roundabout way to go about the question. Especially not when its answer would get you both out of the cold.

Jake furrowed his brows in confusion. “Oh. Sorry, I just thought, you know, maybe I could use your guest room? I mean, if you’re comfortable with that,” he said quickly. “We’ve been neighbors for a couple years now, but I don’t want to assume anything. I would rather ask and get rejected though, than try than have to deal with that,” he said venomously, looking back at his place with that same pronounced frown on his face.

You appreciated his attempts to make it your decision but, again, there was just one problem. “I don’t have a guest room,” you explained, grimacing as his face fell. The situation must have been dire if he was that downtrodden after finding out that your second bedroom was an office since…well, since it was just you living there. “But…my couch does double as a futon. It’s not super comfortable, but if you wanted to crash there, I guess, feel free.”

Pure relief spread across his features, and you opened the door wider to allow him in, cursing yourself for not just bringing him in at the beginning and saving you both some body heat. “Anything,” he muttered, quite seriously.  “Literally anything else but what I was dealing with over there. She sounded like a fucking banshee giving birth. And there’s no way my hobbit brother is that good with his dick.”

You snorted, retrieving some sheets from a bin in your hallway closet. “Your hobbit brother… that’s also your twin? That one?” Jake bobbled his head, but didn’t say anything as he began to tug at the back of the couch to free the bed. “Also, it doesn’t have to be his dick,” you pointed out, but Jake shook his head violently at your revelation.

“No. No, no, nope, no thank you I am finished thinking about that twerp in any way, shape, or form for the night.” His words were less convincing when they shook like a dog’s growl as it played tug o’ war. He seemed to be losing the fight with the couch, and you stood there, shamelessly admiring his form in half-amusement and half-serious appreciation.

He had a backside that was better than yours, and after all the years of being ogled at by men as you went about your daily tasks, you figured the universe could look away this one time.

“Oh shit!” he yelped, falling back on that perfect ass as the couch came half-loose with a pop, a grind, and then the tinkle of tiny, flimsy metal screws hitting your floor.

You both stayed quiet for a moment, staring at your mutilated couch that was now propped up on one end and slanted in a way you were certain it wasn’t supposed to slant. And didn’t seem all too eager to go either back down or all the way out, no matter how much you half-heartedly pushed at it.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N,” Jake said defeatedly after a moment. The apology was clear in his voice, and you knew this was bound to happen sooner or later; the couch was, after all, a remnant from your college days. Even then, it had been a curbside find that you and your roommate had tied to the roof of your car with borrowed bungee cords. “I’ll buy you a new couch.”

While you wouldn’t decline the help, it obviously wasn’t his fault entirely, so you shrugged and returned the blankets to their place in the closet. “Don’t beat yourself up for it. Contribute a fourth of the cost to a discount couch from Facebook Marketplace and I’ll let you off the hook, destructo,” you joked, turning around to face him again. Now that the couch option was gone, Jake was clearly unsure of where he stood, staying at your place.

“Your bed doesn’t happen to be a bunk bed, right?” he asked dryly, knowing that it wasn’t from the very few times he’d seen it. It got a small chuckle out of you as you thought about your options, considering a few different solutions when Jake sped the process up. “Well, sorry to bother you, Y/N. Thanks for letting me almost-crash here. I’m gonna…go bash my brains out.”

It was obvious he wasn’t fishing for anything else – he was genuinely expecting to go back to his flat of sin without another thought to finding a different solution, but you quickly took the few steps to get to him before he took off and met his questioning gaze. “Wait, Jake. Just…it’s late. Stay here, we can share the bed.”

Neighbor friends could totally innocently share a bed. Call it the proverbial cup of sugar. 

His eyes grew saucer-wide, and he jerked his head back slightly at the suggestion as if you’d just proposed he buy a leather flogger and build a dungeon. “Are you sure?”

You looked at him, completely deadpanned. The late hour was getting to you, and you just wanted to make it to bed before the sun came up again. “No, I was pulling your chain.” Jake smiled sheepishly as you continued, “Yes, dumbass, I’m sure. I offered, after all. And in the name of complete platonic-ness, either join me in bed or sleep in the street. Up to you.”

He obviously chose to follow you into your bedroom, and since both of you were already in your pjs, you slipped under the blankets as if it was the most natural thing ever. “Thank you again, Y/N,” Jake whispered, once you’d flicked the lamp off. 

“I’d say any time, Jake, but if you wake me up at this god-forbidden hour again because your brother is having sex, I’ll move.”

You heard his huff of laughter at your empty threat and you smiled, too, already starting to drift into that hazy state between sleep and consciousness. The fan and low brown noise you had playing from phone was enough to drown out the strangeness of someone else in the room with you – the extra intakes and exhales of breath, the scratch of blankets, the dip of the mattress – and you would have been totally content to fall asleep then.

If it weren’t for Jake’s incessant moving. 

The first time he shifted, it was fine – didn’t even register. But then he rolled over again. And again. And again.

“Jake,” you groaned, flopping your hand behind you without a care for where it landed. “Stop fucking moving.”

“Sorry,” he responded softly, voice a little higher than normal.

That would have been that, but then it wasn’t rolling over, but he was obviously still moving, and you could feel it. You might have had a Queen-sized mattress, but that didn’t mean you weren’t unconsciously hyper-aware of someone else in your bed when you were used to sleeping alone.

“Oh my god, Jake,” you exclaimed exasperatedly, turning your lamp on and abruptly rolling over to see just what the problem was. “What is wrong? Are you sleeping on a pea or something, princess?”

In the dim light from the wax melter candle plugged into your wall, Jake stiffened, and he didn’t answer.

Thinking your words came out too harshly, you sighed. “Sorry. I’m not mad, I’m just trying to sleep. Seriously, though, what’s wrong? Do you need to cuddle to get to dreamland or something?” you joked lightly in an attempt to clear the air.

“That wouldn’t be a good idea.”

Jake’s answer was so soft, you nearly didn’t hear him. But once his words registered, you furrowed your brow, confused and a little offended that he couldn’t even crack a joke back, because now you felt a little embarrassed of your joking suggestion. “Okay. Because one of us is a ticking time bomb or something? I wasn’t being serious, Jake.”

The offense must have shown through your thinly-veiled attempt to hide it, because Jake was silent for a second, and then croaked out, “I wouldn’t want you to hate me.”

Now laying down again, facing away, your confusion outgrew your offense, and once again, you rolled over, seeing that Jake had remained stiff as a board with his back to you. “Why would I hate you?” you asked genuinely, less edge to your voice.

But Jake didn’t answer. Didn’t have to, because when he shifted again, the movement originating from his hips and obviously something Jake was trying to suppress. You finally took in the way he was scrunched up, knees pulled to his chest and arms tucked where you couldn’t see them. You recognized that position, from one past boyfriend that always seemed to get an erection at the worst possible times.

“Are you…” you let the sentence trail off, and Jake sighed out a shaky breath.

“I’m not a creep, I promise,” he said with conviction, if a little shakily. Out of nerves, arousal, or fear, you didn’t know, but you felt bad for him all the same.

Sometimes it happened – you knew that. It was basic anatomy. It was also basic anatomy to understand why the blankets started feeling a little warmer, and why you began to get the same impulse to shift your hips as Jake seemingly had. There was a very attractive man in your bed, hard and a little vulnerable because of it, that you admittedly had experienced fleeting thoughts of desire for.

“Jake,” you said softly, breaking the tense silence. “I don’t think you’re a creep. And I also don’t want you to think I’m a creep.”

Jake peeked over his shoulder at you, straining his neck to catch a glimpse. “What? Why would I? I’m the one who got in your bed and– and fucking immediately got an erection.”

“Mmmhh,” you hummed, acknowledging the truth of his statement. “But I’m the one who’s having filthy thoughts about it.” When you heard his swallow harshly, you delivered the final blow. “And I’m the one about to offer to help you take care of it. If you want, of course,” you assured lowly. “If not, you can use the bathroom and we’ll never speak of it again.”

You waited on bated breath for Jake’s response, and he finally responded, his voice breaking in the middle of the word, “Please.”

Excitement lit up your extremities, and you tingled with a newly-found energy as you rubbed your thighs together, your body’s natural response now magnified tenfold with the promise of action. “Thank you Jesus,” you breathed, waiting for Jake to turn around. “Come on, Jake. Show me what we’ve got.”

He hadn’t so much as touched his shoulder blade to the mattress when you pushed the covers off, licking your lips at the tent in his pants. “Are you sure I’m not dreaming?” Jake asked, watching you watch him with a predatory gleam in your eye. “Because I’m pretty sure this has happened before, but I woke up with a mess to clean in the end. It wasn’t fun.”

You chuckled and gently put your hand to his cheek. “I dunno. Does this feel real to you?” You planted your hands on his chest and swung your leg over his hip. Once you settled your weight over his cock, a broken noise escaped his lips, and his hands came up to rest shakily on your thighs, flexing up into the friction. “Feels pretty real to me.”

“Pretty damn real,” he repeated, gulping down air and squeezing his eyes shut.

Shifting your hips so as not to torture the poor man, you watched him accept your gifts, and eventually his face relaxed as he let you work. “Good. I have to ask, though: what got you so worked up in the first place?”

Perhaps it wasn’t the best time to peel your shirt off, not when you wanted an answer. But the unwavering attention that Jake payed the slight sway of your breasts, moving with the little shifts of your body, was a suitable second prize. You upped the stakes again, though, splaying your hands out under his shirt and working it off, as well. The growing wetness between your legs was already beginning to demand more, and you didn’t intend to keep either of you waiting for long.

So instead of insisting on an answer, you got off and relished in the small whine that came from the man who blinked sluggishly at the loss of your weight and heat against him. But when you unceremoniously stripped your pants off and then smacked his hands away from his own drawstrings, you said, “No. My house, my rules, Jake. And the rule here is that I get to unwrap all the gifts you’ve brought me tonight. Such a good guest,” you cooed, dragging his plaid pants down until his cock sprung back up, bobbing with a shiny tip that was begging to be sucked.

Not one to keep yourself from what you wanted, you bent down and thumbed across the skin of his hip at the taste of salty precum, spreading across your tongue as you swiped and swirled it around his head, pulling off with a pop as soon as he gasped and bucked his hips up. “Please don’t stop,” he asked, so polite even worked up as he was.

“But you never answered my question,” you laughed with a shake of your head, mounting him again and spreading your cunt so that you could rub your clit along the length of his cock for your own relief. He moaned quietly and took what you gave him, no attempts to change the pace, the pressure, the movement – nothing. “You’ve been so good for me otherwise, Jakey. Answer me, and then I’ll get you all suited up so that I can fuck you. Get you the good relief you deserve.” He struggled to keep his volume down, but you saw the way his lips trembled. “What got you so worked up?”

He was apparently more desperate than he let on, though, because when he was able to find his voice, it was a weak little whimper that sent another wave of arousal through you; so much that it made your head spin with want. “The sheets,” he whined, fisting them in his palms. “They…they smell like you. And when you— you…” 

With your grinding becoming nearly too slippery to continue, you knew you had to fuck him soon before he came from this alone. “When I what?” you asked, climbing off of him to retrieve a condom.

You wiped him off for safety and then made sure the latex was securely on before you poised him at your entrance, waiting for his final answer.

Jake watched your with hooded, hazy eyes, desperation written out on his features. “I liked it when you called me princess,” he admitted quietly.

You smiled victoriously, sinking down on him until his balls were pressed against your ass in one go, and you felt him twitch inside of you. “That’s so sexy, princess,” you admitted. “Thank you for telling me.” Your eyes closed as you stretched yourself out on his cock, beginning to bounce on him. The resulting audio was almost better than the visual. You wouldn’t have pegged Jake as one to beg in bed, but he had been brushing off all the subconscious labels you’d attached to him since arriving.

“Holy shit,Y/N, oh god, your pussy is–” he cut himself off with a grunt as you slid your hands up his arms to his wrists to pin his hands to bed, watching as he immediately clutched at the pillows above where they lay, immovable with your weight resting on them. “Hold me down,” he cried out. “I– ah-h– please, please, please, fuck me harder,” he whined, shifting his hips up as you came down, the explicit sounds of skin meeting skin slapping out into the silence. 

“Yeah?” you panted, loving the way you had front-row seats to every face his features morphed into as you experimented with him – taking notes of what made him tick. “You like it when you can’t move, princess? When you can only lay there and take it?”

He nodded, eyes rolling to the back of his head when you lurched forward on your thrust down, taking him for the ride of his life. “I’ll take anything you give me, beautiful,” he breathed, straining against your hold as he got closer to finishing. “I don’t mind it a little rough.”

“Good to know.” You leaned down and let your hips slowly grind in circles as you pinched the skin where his neck met his shoulder between your lips, nipping it before saying, “Keep your hands there, and don’t make me tell you twice.”

Jake agreed willingly. “Anything.”

Your nails scraped lightly down the undersides of his arms to his chest, where you dug them in to make little crescent marks and continued your quest to make him cum harder than he ever had before. “Fuck,” you moaned on an exhale, trying to find your own g-spot with Jake’s dick. “You’re so good for me. Who knew that Jake Kiszka, rockstar extraordinaire, was such a whiny little princess in bed?” you chuckled, looking down at his red face, his shiny, open lips, his hooded eyes, looking at you like you hung the moon. Just to drive the point home, you combed your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly along his scalp until you reached the back, where you tightened your grip to make Jake shout and arch back, exposing his throat to you. “That’s it,” you cooed. “Let go for me. Give it up. Cum inside me.”

He was obviously holding himself back, and he told you why when he panted out, “What about you? I wanna– I– please, please don’t make me cum yet,” he begged, squirming underneath you but still not letting his hands dip below where you’d put them and told him to stay. “I want to feel you cum with me! I don’t want to cum yet, I don’t want to be a bad fuck– I always make them cum,” he claimed, still thrashing, trying to get way from the steady pleasure tightening his balls and making him leak, getting him harder and harder and harder. “I can make you feel so good, Y/N, just let me– let me– shit, FUCK no no no no noooo—” he moaned, long and low and pitiful. 

His pleasure manifested throughout his entire body and he lost control for a second, jerking and spasming as he filled the condom to the brim. His teeth were bared as he drew breaths in to fuel the sobs and grunts that came out, his arms moved listlessly against the sheets in a sacreligious snow angel, and you could feel his legs twisting and bucking as you continued to ride him into oblivion. 

You finally slowed once a single tear fell from his eye. Wiping it away, you sucked the pad of your thumb into your mouth, watching his chest and stomach heave with a deep-seated satisfaction running through your veins. Still buzzing with excitement and arousal, you finally leaned down to kiss him, grinning as he kissed back desperately, vying for your every touch, word, and request and pliable with the desire to please you.

“So needy, Jake – crying because I wouldn’t let you help me cum. But don’t worry, princess,” you murmured, smoothing his hair back away from his fucked-out face. “I still intend to collect my pleasure. And these perfect little Cupid’s bow lips are going to get me there.”

He kissed your fingertips as you skated them across his mouth, whispering, “Thank you,” and then pushed himself up on his forearms, moving to crawl between your thighs. And as incredible as that would be to see, you stopped him with a palm in the center of his chest, pressing him down to the mattress once again. 

You shook your head. “Ah, ah. I quite like seeing you on your back for me,” you said, licking your lips. “You’re so pretty splayed out like this.”

Jake made a strangled noise and didn’t protest even for a second. “Works just fine for me, beautiful. Come here; let me show you how grateful I am for taking such good care of me tonight.”

He tugged at your hip and you went willingly, turning around so that you could see every shift, flex, and squirm of his body as you positioned yourself over him, hovering just above his face. You hummed. “Ready for me?” His response was to pull you down against him, and your clit throbbed as soon as it got friction again, making you sigh. “That’s it, princess, show me what that mouth can do. I want to feel how thankful you are that I let you into my bed,” you said breathlessly, starting to move and ride him again, this time higher up his body, but just as good. “That I was so understanding when you couldn’t control that cock of yours and that I used it so that you could get off.”

Even though you hadn’t established it (and you really should have), you lifted off of him when he tapped you, making sure he could breathe. But he didn’t take that time to take any deep breaths, only to say, “Don’t forget about the couch,” before licking into you again.

You smiled at his reminder, and reached back to grip his hair again. His whine traveled  throughout your pussy and made him sucking on your clit just that more enjoyable afterwards, sensitive from the vibration. He was quickly torn away from you as you bore down with more pressure, feeling your clit brush his bottom lip and then his tongue as he stuck it out for you to use for your pleasure. “You’re right. We can figure out a proper consequence later, though. You were begging to make me cum; I don’t think I should reward you for breaking my shit.”

With him manipulating that particular muscle, you quickly approached the peak you’d caught sight of while riding his dick, and you didn’t stop this time. You did, however, reach down to take his sensitive cock in your hand, roughly pumping it up and down until he cried out into your cunt, just to see him twist in overstimulated pleasure. 

“Come on, Jake, get me there, just a little bit more,” you directed, feeling your orgasm balloon inside of you. “Yes, Jake, yes, yes, yes– there you go-ooo, princess. Just what you wanted,” you keened, keeling over as you lost the strength to stay upright. You let Jake lap at you for a little while longer, shivering as he gently brought you down by avoiding your clit, but laving attention on the rest of your pussy. He cleaned you up like that, gathering all the excess slick on his tongue and swallowing it down. 

You were sure that he’d suck on you until you told him to stop, but eventually, you dismounted him, your stomach clenching as Jake made a small noise of complaint as his oral fixation was taken away. 

“Come here,” you sighed, opening your arms for him. You weren’t about to let him go to sleep without proper aftercare. It only took a small roll for Jake to plaster himself against you, legs tangling with yours, his fingers skirting across your skin as he wrapped his arms around you, and a sigh that puffed out warm against your throat as he relaxed into your embrace.

This time, when your fingers made their way to his long locks, you were gentle in petting him, softly massaging the back of his neck as your other hand rubbed comforting circles on his lower back. “I think I lied,” you said sleepily, and Jake made a questioning noise against your skin. “I think I want you to come here every time your brother has sex from now on. Okay?”

Jake placed a lazy kiss to your neck. “Is it okay if I don’t wait for Josh to sex? Who knows when the next time he gets lucky enough that someone looks down and sees him will be,” he giggled, fully aware that he was only a half-inch taller. 

You smiled, warmth spreading through your limbs. “Mmmm. Yeah, princess. You come over whenever you want to. I’ll keep the bed warm.” With one last kiss to his brow, you closed your eyes. 

Thank goodness for your shitty college couch.

~~~

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[pardi-real]

[AKNK] Butler in Wonderland / Chapter 7 - End(?) of the Game

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[After a While]

Muu: "Haah, haah… I laughed so much, my sides got tired... Uuhh… I've had enough with power."

Miyaji: "Pride comes before a fall… indeed.  Well, it ended with a slight difference than planned, but… My Lord. This is the end of the recreation."

> "Is that so?"

Miyaji: "Yes. All that's left is to return the jewel to the Lord."

Flure: "Speaking of which… Who was holding the jewel again?"

Boschi: "Right... I think the one who actually has it is Fennesz... Ooh. Speak of the devil, it seems like he's here."

Trudge… trudge… *walks on grass*

Fennesz: "My Lord. I see that the final trial went smoothly."

Haures: "How was it? Did you have a good time today?"

> "I enjoyed it very much"

Haures: "I see. That's good to hear."

Flure: "Fufu ♪ It was worth all the hard work and preparation! …It feels a bit wasteful that this is the end."

Miyaji: "Hm… Don't worry, Flure. Halloween will still continue from now on. There's still time to spend with the Lord."

Flure: "T-that's right! Halloween is not over yet!"

Ammon: "Nevertheless, I'd rather not return the jewel… I ain't talking about this play, btw. I feel like keeping the Lord here~ ♪"

> "I, I'm glad you feel that way, but…"

Haures: "That's right, Ammon. The Lord has their own life. Our role as a butler is… to make sure we're always ready for when they return.

Ammon: "Hehehe, I know ♪ I just wanna say it."

Haures: "Well then, Fennesz. The diamond jewel, to the Lord's ring."

Fennesz: "Yes, okay… …….. Hmm? Hu-huh…?"

Haures: "Hm? What's up, Fennesz?"

Ammon: "Don't tell me… You ain't gonna say you 'lost it', are you?"

Fennesz: "E, errr~ … ……… S-sorry, what do I do…"

Muu: "Eeeeeeeeh!? Did you really lose it? Without the jewel, the Lord's ring won't be able to come off..., which means…"

Bastien: "The Lord can't go back to their world…, it seems."

Fennesz: "I, I, I'm sorry! Perhaps, did I drop it somewhere, by any chance? I… I'll go look for it right now!"

> "Ca-calm down Fennesz…"

Haures: "Yes, they're right. There's no point in searching in the dark.  First of all, calm down and let me hear what you have to say. Then we can all search together."

Fennesz: "Y-yes… Okay."

Boschi: "Well… then, let's take our time and hear what he has to say. ...stand at the defendant's podium, Fennesz."

Fennesz: "Yes…"

Ammon: "Oh my… I guess the trial isn't over yet."

[A few minutes later]

Boschi: "Well then... Are you sure that you got the jewel from the Lord?"

Fennesz: "Yes... I must have put it in my pocket afterwards, but maybe… I dropped it when I fell in the hallway."

Haures: "Hmm… That seems to be the most likely possibility at the moment.  Just that… I've been down the same hallway a few times since then, but I didn't notice any fallen jewels…"

Boschi: "Well… Even though it's red and striking, it's still a small jewel. You could've just walked right past it without noticing."

Bastien: "Or.... Someone already picked it up... It's possible that they 'deliberately keep quiet' about it…"

Ammon: "I see~. That certainly seems possible! If I hid the jewel... I'd be able to keep the Lord in this world ♪"

Boschi: "I see… That's one of the motives.  Ammon. Jump for a second."

Ammon: "D-Don't wanna~ I ain't hiding any jewels!  You're the one hiding it, ain'tcha, Boschi?"

Boschi: "Don't be silly. I don't do things in roundabout ways. If I want to keep the Lord from leaving...  I will tell them so in my own words."

Flure: "...Ugh. I wish I could say such a cool line too!"

Miyaji: "Anyway... First, we go to that hallway and search. If we can't find it there… we'll try on another and widen the search area."

Bastien: "Yeah… I agree."

Fennesz: "I deeply apologize, my Lord…"

> "It's okay, Fennesz."

[Devil's Palace, Hallway]

While consoling an apologetic Fennesz... We all searched the hallway near where he fell. The red diamond was nowhere to be found... So we widened our search.

Haures: "Hmm… If we can't find it in this area.... The only other places I can think of are... The garden and the conservatory where Fennesz stopped by. Or... Maybe someone really did pick it up."

> "Maybe…"

Haures: "Yes, things are things, so we need to look for them thoroughly. Also… I'd rather not do this, but... We'll have to do a 'Frisk Search' on the butlers, just to be sure…"

> "A frisk search, huh…"

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[herschelkrustofsky]

so i just finished season 2 of DS9 for the first time and i have so many thoughts about quark and his relationships with the crew; specifically ben, kira, jadzia, and odo. throughout the season, we see quark either trying to connect to these four — albeit in his own grating way — or proving his worth to them after a major fuck-up. (this is the case for jadzia specifically; he inadvertently put her on danger in invasive procedures [2x03] risked his own life trying to save her. we see them hanging out in playing god [2x17], so we know they’re cool and that jadzia forgave him. this should go without mentioning jadzia sticking up for the ferengi more than once throughout the season, specifically to kira, and insisting there’s more to them than their money grubbing ways.)

with ben, quark attempts to connection with him over a drink in second sight [2x09], only for ben to turn him down — presumably because he has too much on his mind and quark is quark, but the way the camera lingers on our favourite bartender, we can see how the rejection ate at him. the rejection sensitivity is dialled up even further in shadowplay [2x16] when quark attempts to get playful with kira, only to be told she utterly despises him for collaborating with the cardassians during the occupation — forcing him to realize that their snark isn’t a game and that she legitimately doesn’t like him, to the point where he says (verbatim) that he wishes he hadn’t brought it up. this comes up again in the jem’hadar [2x26] when he mentions to odo that kira specifically doesn’t like him, showing how much he internalized that conversation and ruminates over it even with the passage of time — and that’s still not all!

in the collaborator [2x24], there’s a specific exchange between odo, kira, and quark that’s very relevant to the theme of quark feeling rejected and isolated by the crew. transcribing it doesn’t quite do it justice, so i’ll just link the scene itself:

TL;DR: these two show up and quark immediately gets defensive and nervous. given his interactions with odo on a regular basis + kira’s recent (and completely understandable) anger, he figures them confronting him together probably spells out trouble for him. and unfortunately, in typical odo fashion, he doesn’t exactly make him feel any better:

quark: you want something from me, don’t you?

kira: how’d you guess?

odo: it’s simple. we’ve been here more than a minute, and we haven’t insulted him, threatened him, or arrested him.

quark: exactly. so what is it?

quark values odo’s opinion a lot. and while i’m sure odo was just playing around and being sarcastic, this is the last thing quark needed to hear in that moment and solidifies in his mind that he’s only of any value to the others when he’s useful, which ultimately culminates in this confrontation with ben after they’ve been captured by the jem’hadar:

i’ve seen this clip before, but it was only last night, after having seen season 2 to completion, that i finally had the full context for it — specifically, for quark’s emotions, and why he went on his little tirade. he isn’t angry at ben specifically; he’s angry at the entire DS9 crew for (in his mind) treating him like an annoyance that’s only worth speaking to when he gives them something in return. i believe he brings up his species as a whole rather than Just Himself for two reasons: 1, it gives him a roundabout way to express his outrage without getting too vulnerable, and 2, he is attempting to rationalize why he’s faced with the indifference and the animosity that he is. chalking it down to speciesism helps him rationalize why this is happening, but the alternative is also pretty devastating: that they just don’t like him as an individual.

but here’s the kicker: they DO like quark! ben lets him come along on the camping trip despite his wishes to spend time with jake and only jake. he engages in conversation with him, feeds him, and is pretty damn amiable towards him despite quark’s incessant complaining. he defends quark to eris when she expresses annoyance over him. meanwhile, odo specifically joins the rescue mission to make sure quark gets home safe (in his own words!!!) and even tells kira she’d miss quark if anything were to happen to him — they ALL would — and she agrees!

the tragedy is that all of these things are discussed when quark is out of earshot (no pun intended) or just not paying enough attention. but despite his growing disillusionment with them, quark is willing to resort to violence (something he’d really rather avoid) to protect his friends; first demonstrated in invasive procedures and then coming full circle when he lethally shoots a jem’hadar trying to hurt ben, who returns the favour by making sure quark isn’t left behind despite eris’ insistence. and this time, quark IS around to hear that someone cares about him; not just anyone, but the station’s commander, which certainly gives him the validation he’s been craving all season long.

while i can’t find the clip, i think quark’s little monologue to the gloomy morn at the beginning of the episode describes it best; he isn’t just their bartender, he’s their confidant and their friend — or desperately wants to be. unfortunately, his learned / cultural behaviours, impulsivity, and selfish tendencies (as demonstrated when he abandons morn to scurry after his boytoy, aka odo) drive a wedge between him and the people he’s come to want the approval of so badly… and despite his glaring flaws and their often flippant treatment of him, they manage to like him anyway. big ears just needs to listen better, it seems — or maybe his friends need to make their affections a little more obvious.

i just. man. it’s such a subtle arc, one you probably don’t notice unless you’ve been watching a bunch of episodes consecutively like i have (not to mention my, ahem, keen eye on a certain ferengi…), but it’s so satisfying. they didn’t have to do all that for him and they did. this show and its attention to character detail is incredible and i can’t wait to see what else it has in store for me. 🖤

[sepublic]

            Can we again appreciate, also, the horror and pressure that comes from Luz’s ‘realization’? The fact that she blames herself for helping Philip find the Collector; And because the Collector taught Philip the draining spell, she sees herself as responsible for both antagonists. She gave Belos access to someone who let him become an immortal emperor with “magic stronger than anybody’s”, and King access to the Collector that is now terrorizing the isles. Belos had an actual game plan thanks to Luz, beyond just killing random witches; And let’s not forget that the draining spell led to Eda losing her arm, which she doesn’t know about yet!

         Obviously, Luz can’t be blamed. The entire isles was manipulated, what makes her think she could’ve done any better, should’ve done any better, when she wouldn’t hold it against anyone else? Dare I say it’s almost arrogant in a roundabout way even, for Luz to hold herself to that extreme, godlike standard, and herself alone; Out of a sense of self-loathing.

         But it kinda wraps around to Luz feeling the need to fix things and be responsible for them, and I can see the connection between that and her once wanting to be a chosen one, which was in itself a rationalization and attempt to make up for, justify, and explain her inadequacies in life. If Luz is a Chosen One, then her being different and rejected by the others makes sense, if Luz is a Chosen One, then it’s okay for her to assume all responsibility for everyone else, and thus blame herself over others!

         Which… Yeah, in a way she DID get to have that ‘magical destiny’ she talked about in Witches before Wizards; But in the worst way possible, WELL after she’d gotten over that. Just like her brother King getting over wanting to be a tyrant with powerful lore, only to be burdened with the curse of being a Titan after all. It’s so cruel that when Luz’s wish IS fulfilled, it’s in the most Monkey’s Paw way, technically a straight play on the idea, but also a deconstruction too. Like she and King are being ironically punished for their wish, well after they’d made up for something you couldn’t blame a child for having.

         I wonder if Lilith has made this connection, too? Does she blame herself, and as much? She DID at least catch onto Philip’s evil… Plus, she’s likely already used to blaming herself for stuff; Eda’s curse, which was only intended for a single day for her (even if her plans still meant taking Eda’s future for herself), as well as being manipulated by Belos in general. At this point, I think Lilith is just used to it, and focused on just making things right, like when she offered to take Eda’s place in the ritual sabotage; She’s self-pitied enough as is. Plus, who knows how therapeutic her time with Gwen could’ve been; And Luz is now with HER mom too!

         Anyhow I guess I want to see Cool Aunt Lilith provide support for Luz over this, and reassure her that it isn’t her fault, at least no more than anyone else’s. This does remind me of a fic I made back when Season 1 ended, of Lilith thanking Luz for helping open her eyes… Maybe when Season 3 is over and I get a sense for how circumstances turn out, I could write a counterpart sequel in which Lilith returns the favor with her advice, even as Luz thanks her as well.

         But yeah; Philip already had most of it figured out, how to get the Collector, and he just needed anyone to be a sacrificial distraction for the Stonesleeper. Lilith even points out that he did most of the puzzle to the lair; Luz might blame herself for being the reason Philip became any more than the incredibly cruel yet seemingly ineffectual human he was, instead of the worldwide threat thanks to the Collector’s knowledge.

         But Philip was ALWAYS like that he and he’d always find a way, and didn’t need the Collector to form a cult of personality, just capitalize on it with the coup de grace. And yet, I can just totally understand the wracking damage and pain, because Luz didn’t just help Belos with any menial task, but perhaps the most fateful one of all, sans killing Caleb… Philip meeting Luz and her Cool Aunt really is a turning point for the entire lore of the show. But Luz’s destiny that changes the world is no longer a blessing, but a curse.

         We’ve discussed how Luz has done SO much, has had an incomprehensible impact and legacy via her arrival; The way she’s changed everyone and then the people around them. But she really did take it a step further in a cruel way, a way she must still forgive and not blame herself for regardless, and it pairs very well with Philip being the same, in a negative way. And how BOTH affected fate together with finding the Collector, in their own mixed way. 

        Thanks to Them is a title that could have multiple meanings; Perhaps about Luz and Philip’s (and Caleb’s) juxtaposed legacies, and more! It feels like a double-edged title…  And double-edged is how one could describe Luz’s feelings towards being a Chosen One with a Destiny, her ability to do good, and conversely the risk of doing bad, and the exhausting expectation to keep up the good. My girl is like a Gifted Child but instead of excelling at grades it’s excelling at improving the world and helping people! Even if Luz focuses on not self-pitying but making up for it... How can one make up for so damage??? You can’t, but that’s not an issue because it was never her fault.

         TL;DR It is very much not Luz’s fault but I just want to remind everyone why this in particular would cause Luz so much anxiety, and in understanding the gravity appreciate more her angst. It’s not just that she helped Philip but the NATURE of that ‘help’, and seeing the Collector last episode has just intensified her understanding of the consequences. It’s a lotta baggage and Luz likely heard the Collector mention to Belos that he taught him all that magic.

[lahooozaherr]

I know I don’t have to apologize, I guess I still kind of am tho? I just wanted to post saying I appreciate getting tagged in games and stuff. I appreciate knowing y’all are thinking of me even when I’m not super active on here.

I’m kind of in a weird lull in my mental health right now. I’m not bad but I’m not great either. I’m getting through. But I’m also making many efforts to work on it. The state of the world and watching what’s happening in Gaza honestly tears my heart apart every day and I’m trying my best to do what I can and sit with the emotions and allow them to expand me. I never wish to be numb to it.

I started something called “somatic therapy” this week. I’m one session in so far and I’m already very impressed by my therapist. I think it’s the missing link in my journey, seeing as I’m sure I haven’t been “in my body” since I was 16. I’ve grown very critical of the biomedical model of mental health and for a long time I’ve felt traditional therapy no longer helps me.

I keep trying to think about my fic “I Will Always Find You” so I can create the new chapter, but inspiration hasn’t hit as much as I need. Rest assured that at this time, I still plan to continue it. This fic is a labor of love for myself (and Din lol). I occasionally have to fight back at the thoughts of “it’s not good enough” or “nobody wants to read it”. I know it’s not true, but also, I know I share my writing for myself and not solely for others to take in. Although I very much appreciate it when they do.

I have plans to write more, whether it’s fic or a blog of my musings/stream of consciousness. Bear in mind, IWAFY is the first fic I’d written after 10 years of not really writing at all, or being in fandom spaces like this. I was kinda scarred as a teen by fandom culture and how awful people used to be about self insert fic. I also had major life changes and trauma happened that made hobbies no longer feel good.

Uhh anyways, this was longer than I meant it to be. Just a long roundabout way of saying I appreciate everyone I have in this little corner I’ve carved for myself here. Imposter syndrome has been on high for a long time for me and I’m unlearning it.

[chumpovodir]

You got into an argument with a Lenore simp on Reddit who is 100% convinced that she was a perfect angel who loved him from the get-go

My post on Twitter about how Hector should have shown more resentment and Lenore more guilt attracted the attention of three Lenector shippers who started to converse under my thread about how much Lenore "deserved" better (I didn't even attempt to follow their conversation, both because Twitter sucks as a confrontation platform and because where do I even begin)

I guess this week is Lenector Week. Can't say I'm thrilled.

Anyway I love when Hector in the games ran away from his mad Lord who was forcing him into a life he didn't want and then found love in a woman who came to genuinely like him as a person and human being 💖 I love when a victim of abuse finds their hard-earned freedom away from their abuser and they can heal properly 💖 I love when abusers pay for what they've done and are shown as being terrible people 💖 and most importantly, I love the them 💖

(to be fair, the dudes on my thread were being very civil when they disagreed with each other about some stuff, and sometimes they even said things I agreed with, such as "Isaac didn't deserve that big happy ending after all the shit he did in S3". Always nice to see I'm not the only one who thinks Isaac was too much of a darling babyboy of the narrative. Too mad it always came from the perspective of "if everyone got a sappy happy ending, then Hector and Lenore deserved one too, it's not fair", which I'd say is a childish way to see a story 🙄 and i'm being generous and not calling them out for ignoring lenore's actions. at least one of those people admitted they wanted to see them addressed properly before they could move on. baby steps.)

i wish that person's argument was just that Lenore was a perfect angel who twuwy wuvs Hector. i don't really take issue with people seeing Lenore as more compassionate than how she's presented, there's some stuff in the show that supports that view but i had to draw the line with the way they were very insistently downplaying or even justifying that it's okay Hector was essentially raped because he got a better bargain in the end. the wording "it was for his own good" is especially vile

the sticking point for me is that while, yes, she did manage to secure a better position for him, it still stands the way she went about it was downright heinous - she did not have to do any of that. especially when it was already established that she's supposed to be this master manipulator diplomat who holds all the cards, while Hector is easily manipulated to begin with, and has since the end of S2 been suffering indignity after indignity that no doubt already wore down his spirit. the situation was already so stacked in favor of Hector complying out of his own self-interest, i dont even know why the enslavement ring has to exist, and has to specifically be activated by the wearer declaring their loyalty except as a really roundabout way to justify that sex scene happening. it could've still been a magical ring that binds the wearer to a master, which she then could've tricked Hector into wearing by way of something innocuous like trying to show him they're all equals or something. the point is, the whole situation was set up in a way where she's clearly taking advantage of him, and because they just had to introduce a sexual element to it, people should just call a spade a spade and say she raped him because that's what happened. even if she didn't she was taking advantage of him for her own gain and that should be recognized as being y'know. a bad thing that outweighs any good she got out of it for Hector.

i know that person was probably viewing it super positively as a kink thing they enjoy, but the whole basis of kink is mutual consent which obviously none of that was and was just. so frustrating and lowkey kind of worrying to see someone just. not able to see a horrible, toxic relationship for what it is, just because it wasn't outright abusive.

also ahhhhh Hectaly my beloveds <3 their story is much simpler but do you really need more than that?

sounds like you got the better end of the deal lmao. it seems to me like Lenector shippers are at least willing to acknowledge all the parts of their (hypothetical) relationship, and it would actually be interesting to see how that would develop from such a rocky place. it felt like there should have been an entire extra season between S3-S4 to explore not just this, but the rest of the plotlines properly, and also build up to those happy endings

[thefemeleon]

hello radblr i hate to sound stupid on this website but i need genuine advice/opinions from actually women and lesbians and this feels like the only place to get that lol.

TLDR: i babble on about experiences that make me wonder if im a deeply traumatized lesbian or just disappointed in being bisexual

for context i am a detrans gnc woman and the word i would use to describe my experience at the moment is bisexual.

now here’s the part where i talk about my experiences. please be honest, if i am just bisexual, i am just bisexual. but i do want to get a kind of consensus i guess. i hate being bisexual, genuinely. i have a strong internal bias against bisexuality that i just can’t seem to shake. i wish i was only attracted to females, but im not and that pisses me off so bad. as a kid i had few crushes on boys but it did happen. i’ve always had ssa though, it’s been prevalent my whole life. in hindsight looking back i wonder if i struggle to understand the difference between platonic and romantic attraction, specifically when it comes to how it can differ with sex. i have autism, and it makes it extremely difficult for me to identify and differentiate what im feeling. I’ve had “crushes” on men, but i can’t help but wonder if it’s more the happiness i get from male friendships, from the validation. when i’ve dated men, i feel unsatisfied and unfulfilled, often finding myself thinking we would be much better as friends. i hate having sex with males as well, it’s a chore to me and tends to be painful. i usually just endure for the sake of my male partners. the annoying part to me is that i believe i am sexually attracted to men (in theory i guess), i just don’t like having sex with them. maybe i haven’t found the “right man” or whatever. i have experienced a lot of sexual trauma at the hands of men and i can’t help but wonder if that’s shaped my sexuality today. ive dated women before, and it was better, except for my failing mental health at those times. i want so badly to be with a woman, to be in a relationship with someone i can understand and who can understand me. not only to escape misogyny (which is a big reason i don’t like to date men), but i also just find women more attractive. i like having sex with women, it doesn’t hurt and it’s fun, something i look forward to doing. i’m in a relationship with a man but i plan on ending it. i just refuse to settle for something that doesn’t benefit me, no matter how good he is as a person.

that was all a very roundabout way of saying i’m not sure anymore about the nature of my sexuality. there’s so many factors, so i’m reaching out to the radfems for advice. i apologize about this being TMI, but i felt like all the context is necessary lol. feel free to reblog, i want more reach than i have currently. i’m also happy to elaborate more.

[breakerwhiskey]

257 - TWO HUNDRED FIFTY SEVEN

Please visit breakerwhiskey.com for more information or to send a message to Whiskey's radio. Breaker Whiskey is an Atypical Artists production created by Lauren Shippen. If you'd like to support the show, please visit patreon.com/breakerwhiskey.

Transcript under the cut. For more episodes, click here.

[click, static]

This place is…extraordinary. I woke up with the sunrise this morning and it was breathtaking. It’s so…quiet. I mean, it’s not actually that quiet, the sounds of the wind and the creaking trees and whatever wildlife is out here—oh, and I found the rifle, which I guess is good in case any of that wildlife deciding to come to our door but they’d have to get up the stairs first. I guess this means I am teaching Harry how to shoot after all. Maybe I’ll finally learn to hunt.

But—those sounds aside, the natural sounds, it’s peaceful. Being in cities now is eerie—they’re quiet but it isn’t right. This place was so untouched by people to begin with that it feels right. It gives me the same feeling I got in Wyoming all those months ago. Except, this time, I’m not trying to forget about Harry, because I very much can’t forget about her.

Last night—well, it doesn’t matter that it’s July, the nights still get fucking freezing this high up. But, as you know, there’s a cast iron stove in the watchtower, and there’s still a whole pile of wood underneath the stairs, so we had that going all night. And I guess we both were still too cold because somehow, in the course of the night, we both ended up with our blankets and pillows in front of the stove. Between the fire and the shared warmth, I slept…well, I slept really well for the first time in a long time.

It’s not that I’ve never woken up next to her before. When we were first on the run, we couldn’t afford to be out of each other’s sight for too long. But this was—this was different. It's the first time there’s been nothing between us—no secrets, no lies, no games. Harry has been different these last few weeks and it’s like I was getting so used to being around her again, and all the mixed up feelings that that brought up, that I didn’t even notice until now. But the way she did eventually go along with what I wanted to do, the way that she admitted that coming here was a good idea…

She isn’t just surrendering, telling me what I want to hear. I know what that’s like, I’ve lived with that version of Harry for months. After she told me the truth, she tried to…change. Become some version of herself that she thought I could forgive, being easy and agreeable and giving me space and consideration and I fucking hated it.

That’s not what she’s doing now. She’s just…thawing. She’s letting herself be vulnerable. She’s letting herself be wrong. I’m starting to feel like maybe she doesn’t just want my forgiveness to make her life easier, but because she is genuinely remorseful about everything. Maybe in the end that distinction doesn’t mean anything, but it matters to me. And it matters—it matters that she was trying to protect me in her own roundabout way even if I wish she’d just come to me when she found out about Pete—

(sigh) My head is so loud. If we’re really safe from prying eyes here…I might stop transmitting for a while after our date on Thursday. I’m…I’m tired. Waking up so peaceful and safe and warm this morning…it all hit me, this huge wave of exhaustion. I’m so tired of being angry. I’m tired of being scared. And I think taking some time after we talk to—to put down everything I’ve been carrying around…it might be a good idea.

I’m—I’m excited to see what you have to say. You said “message will repeat” so I assume we’re not going to be playing our yes and no game. It better be a long message, Birdie.

I think…I think I understand why you chose that name. There’s a bird-feeder on the railing and even though there’s no seed in it, I’ve still seen the most beautiful array of birds. I’ve been sitting here all morning, waiting for Harry to return from her supply run, and just watching them. And wondering if you built the feeder yourself, so that you could have some company.

Is this what you did? You sat in this watchtower, with enough radio equipment to speak to the world, and you listened and looked out on the sunrise and the birds and felt like you were in the one good and beautiful place in the entire universe, across all timelines?

Or did you feel trapped? Consigned to your tower like some kind of fairytale princess? Did you look at the birds and wish you could be free too?

[click, static]

[lu-cia-lu-nacy]

Okay, so... I've been holding onto this for a long time, & I really want to get it off my chest.

So I attended a con years ago with my SO. I was feeling particularly anxious & unwell, so I basically stayed mute the entire day. When I found out Greg Cipes would be there, I got super excited because I love Beast Boy from the Teen Titans cartoon of the 00s, Mikey is my fave ninja turtle, & he's done a couple other roles I enjoyed.

When we got in line, I wrote a message to my SO saying how I was so nervous that I don't think I would be able to speak to Cipes. He sympathized & said he'd try to explain in a roundabout way why I wasn't talking. I sincerely appreciated his effort & agreed to the plan.

I finally got up to meet Cipes, & my SO goes onto say on my behalf, "Hey, this is Lucia, & she's a big fan of your work as BB & Mikey!" I smiled at Cipes, who gave me a confused look and a forced half smile as he said, "Does Lucia...talk?"

I felt my face grow hot, & any word I tried to say to explain myself got caught in my throat. I started to panic, but my SO luckily swooped in to say, "Uh, she does, it's just a little hard for her today! Can we take a photo with you?" Cipes awkwardly got close to me for a photo, scribbled hurriedly in the notebook I brought for him to sign, then nodded a goodbye.

After that, I couldn't handle the rest of the con and asked my SO if we could leave early, so we did.

I look back on that moment years later and I feel so many different emotions: embarrassed, confusion, and...a bit betrayed. Those words really cut me deep. "Does Lucia talk?" It made me feel like a freak, like he was already judging me.

He didn't have to say anything. My SO already introduced me. He could have just said, "Hey, Tina, thanks for being a fan! Want a photo?" But he looked me right in the face & asked as if I wasn't there about my ability to talk. He made no effort to hide his appalment, which made the blow hit twice as hard.

As someone that can go mute depending on how stressed/anxious I am, that really hurt me. If I could control my speech during times of stress, I would in a heartbeat. But it doesn't work like that for me. The fact that Cipes was visibly put off by a fan being unable to communicate in the "typical way" made me feel so...small, alone. Like I lost an ally - someone that I thought would understand.

To this day, I can't watch 00s Teen Titans, or TMNT 2012, or hear his voice in any capacity without cringing. My heart sinks even when I see the character Beast Boy because I'm instantly reminded of how alienated I felt when I met a voice actor that I thought was cool, funny, and understanding.

Growing up with 00s Teen Titans, Beast Boy was my favorite character, & I always got so excited when I saw him on screen. That excitement carried over when I heard Cipes' voice in other TV shows that I loved. It felt like I knew him, & I always imagined how cool it would be to meet him in real life. Well, look how that turned out.

I don't want to outright call Cipes an ableist...but his actions toward me felt ableist. It felt like the same stern judgment and disgust that I felt when teachers would chastise me for not sitting still, or forgetting to do my homework for the hundredth time (ADHD). Or when my boss would begrudgingly wish me well after yet another episode caused me to be too weak/physically incapable of coming into work (absent seizures & dysautonomia). It felt like the same apathetic, annoyed, "why are you like this" judgment that I would receive whenever a disability of mine rendered me less than perfect. And the last person I expected to feel that from was Greg Cipes.

I guess this is why they say you should never meet your heroes.