#but we go along with it because everyone else does

[prael]

Day 12: Three Shades of Sin

Le Sserafim Kazuha & Yunjin & TripleS Xinyu

words: 11,736 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

Look, you know this story starts with the way Xinyu has her fingers threaded beneath Kazuha's jaw, her lipstick smeared off in bits and pieces, but that’s not actually how it ends. It’s a slow descent; watching your girlfriend kiss someone new is a beautiful disaster that never really loses its lustre, and the truth is, there’s no moral at the end of this tale - the closest you’ll get to something cathartic is this:

Yunjin grinning at you, sunshine-bright and wickedly gorgeous. “You gonna invite us in, or what?”

-

First things first: the bar is packed - oh, it's always packed - but especially so on the nights when Kazuha performs. It's not a burlesque club, not really; in theory, it's not all that much more than an upscale lounge for yuppies with more money than they need, trying to pretend they're living sophisticated lives with a splash of debauchery on the side.

It's packed, obviously, because they're getting a little more debauchery than expected tonight - but all the familiar faces are there: the grad-school crowd who treat this club like the neighbourhood dive bar; the pretentious A-list types who claim to hate this kind of thing but always seem to show up anyway; the trust-fund kids and their vices and habits; the semi-locals, like you. They’re the mainstay: you know their drink orders, what they’re into, whether you’ve gone home with them before. You know who is dating who. Who's got a looser distinction between romance and just fooling around. Who got fired. Who's always fucked up beyond all help. You know the girl sitting at the end of the bar nursing a cosmo and waiting for you, alone.

She'd come to see Kazuha perform like everyone else.

"You missed my boyfriend," Xinyu says to you, just shy of winking. She looks beautiful - she always does, of course, but this time: she's wearing black leggings and a crop top that shows off the cut of her waist, her toned abs. The skirt is so small it's basically an accessory to how she's got her dark hair pinned up into something half-bedroom, half-backstage-chic, hoop earrings that dangle just above the slope of her neck.

"Did I?" you reply, coy. It's not flirting - or maybe it is, you're not sure.

She tips her head, cheek resting delicately on her knuckles. You end up staring at her mouth; the words coquettish and prurient and absolutely, unquestionably fuckable are swirling around your brain. "Yep," she says, and her lips curve beautifully. "You did."

Xinyu turning up the dial until she's impossible to resist is pretty much standard-operating-procedure here- it's sort of like this place runs through her blood. She's claimed ownership of it for herself.

"It's too bad," she says, drumming acrylics on the countertop. She shoots you a look that's all bedroom eyes: that drowsy, liquid-lidded kind of want that tells you she'd have her head tilted back against your pillows in less than a few minutes if you asked. "I think you would've really gotten along."

"Guess I'll just have to settle for his girlfriend." You lean closer to her, conspiratorial. "This is fun. What else are we doing tonight?"

"Oh, yeah, you know." She stretches long and languid, satisfied. "Same as usual." That means dancing - some partying, probably lots of drinking, flirting. You're going to take her home and pin her wrists to the pillow above her head. You don't mind any of that - it's become your life, these last months, too. You know the routine here like you've known it for years.

"Want something to drink?" you ask her, and Xinyu considers you. Like she's going to pounce.

"Not really," she says, and then her chin fits into the dip between her thumb and pointer finger. You get closer. "Think I'm thirsty for something else." There's nothing left of the distance between you, and you're not kissing her yet, not yet - but the tension is making a point of shuddering and cracking.

All that promise of something more.

"Don't let this go to your head, but." Xinyu reaches out a hand. You play into the script; you take it and bring her knuckles to your lips. Her wrist smells like the perfume you bought her a Christmas ago. You kiss there, too - for a split second. "I love my boyfriend. He's great." Your eyes dart to hers again - she's always watching, waiting for the attention to come back her way. "But sometimes girls just hit differently, right?"

"See anyone in particular?" you say, still nonchalant, while Xinyu hooks a fingertip onto the neckline of your shirt.

"Oh," says Xinyu. Her grin is devilish, dangerous: like she'd carve right through your throat. "That's cute of you. Like, you really wanna know, hm? I have a list."

"How long is it?" You raise an eyebrow, feign boredom. She likes the challenge.

"Depends on the night."

"But I'm at the top," you continue, unabashed - your usual brand of charming. "Right?"

Xinyu laughs; it's a delight, musical and precious. You'd listen to it for hours if you could.

"You already know, honey." Her nails skim your neck; they catch in your hair. The strands fall over the silver around her fingers. "Top of my list, and everyone else's, too."

"Nope." You lean even further over the bar, stealing the inches, taking them for your own. "Not tonight."

"I don't share." Xinyu taps your nose, prim, smirking. Her eyes are shining, brimming with energy - you can't look away from her. She's intoxicating. She's beautiful. "He wouldn't like that anyway."

"Oh, come on. That sounds like a 'him' problem. Right?"

There's a raucous chorus of laughter from across the floor: people coming in from the cold, wanting to see the show, see a gorgeous girl in next-to-nothing strut her stuff up onstage. You watch as Xinyu's eyelashes flutter, delighted - she's waiting for something to begin; this is a ritual that repeats, the fervour starting low and ending high.

And it starts, and it ends, always, with you looking at her.

"We'll see," sings Xinyu, and she twirls on her stool, one leg neatly hooked over the other. The bar erupts into thunderous applause - the lights dim, and Kazuha emerges onstage.

-

See, the club isn't normally about stripteases - sure, some girls dance - but this is still a place with bottle service and $18 cocktails, not one where dancers make a show of stripping out of their lingerie. And it's not like you care much for how people try to make themselves seem better than they are, really: if you wanna be trashy, fine. If you want to keep up appearances, put on some kind of show like you're worth a dime more than anyone else out there, great, fine, do that. This place may be the latter, but in the end, it's all the same; everything falls apart once the night sets in. Everything stays messy, no matter which box you paint yourself into.

That's a long preface to say: you're just not expecting her in the slightest.

To be honest, most nights aren't all that exciting - there are people to remember, drinks to mix up, tabs to close and mouths to kiss, sometimes - but mostly, there's not a lot worth mentioning. When people come into the bar - the people who are new, the people who think that this is an opportunity for the night to turn interesting - you look up, size them up, wonder who they're going home with, if you're interested at all. More often than not, it's none of the above.

"Hi," says the new face as she slides up to you on the stool. Well, okay, so this part is different.

Xinyu stepped out earlier - said she had someone else to find, said you'd probably like who she had in mind, but whatever. You'll see when you see. You're not picky. You were ready to dick around on your phone until your girlfriend figured out which plaything you were both in the mood for tonight - you're not opposed to another addition, not at all - but then-

Then the girl sits at the bar, leans on her elbows over the polished surface. Rakes her fingers through the wisps of dark hair at her forehead, pushes it back, and -

And meets your gaze dead on, and doesn't break it. Not even a bit.

Okay - so, she's blindingly, impossibly stunning. A textbook fucking ten.

"Hi," she says again, firmer, like she knows what you're thinking. "Do they serve anything here that isn't blue or tastes like putting your tongue to a nine-volt?"

It's such a shockingly mild opener that you immediately laugh at her. It just spills right out of you.

"Yeah," you say, leaning against the bar, mildly amused. You call over the bartender, order in duplicate - you're pretty sure that's how this works, you have to get the drink in front of her, not even mention it, just let her know that you're calling the shots here - and then fix her with another look, eyebrows quirked. "New in town?" you ask. Small talk. Sure.

"No," she replies, "just new in here." She tosses her silky red hair over her shoulder. Reveals the halter-neck of her blouse and the deepness of the dip. Her collarbones are out. You barely even notice. "Also," she continues, "this place is a fucking zoo."

There's no patience to her. She's harsh, no filter. Your drinks arrive, and she hardly reacts when they do.

"It's a bit crowded." You're trying somewhat to stay diplomatic. "It's the girl on stage," you offer, and you gesture vaguely towards Kazuha's figure: long legs and curves in all the right places, raven-black hair falling to her waist. Everyone looks at her like she's a gift sent down from heaven. She's dressed in something gold, sequin, and she knows that they're pretty much right.

"Well, I guess that explains it."

"Everyone's hoping she'll take off more clothes." You shrug your shoulders at your new companion. "But she never does, so I'm not quite sure why everyone thinks tonight will be the exception."

"No shit," the girl drawls, her tone entirely blasé - she's so painfully disaffected, the disinterested, entitled type; your heart skips a beat. "No offence to you, man, but I think most of the guys here are either idiots or creeps." The redhead wrinkles her nose. "Or both."

"A fair assessment, honestly," you muse. Sip your drink. It's bitter. She hasn't touched hers. "You think I'm any different?"

The corner of her mouth ticks up. "No," she says.

The room seems to tilt sideways, and everything gets fuzzy: it feels like you're supposed to be talking in code or perhaps just reading between lines - there's a whole secret conversation happening beneath this surface-level, meaningless banter. You're making contact, making plans. She knows where this is going. You're right there with her.

"The girl up there is cute," the redhead says after a while, thoughtful. "What's your deal with her? How come you haven't turned into one of the animals in the horde yet?"

It's an obvious line of questioning.

"She's nice," you admit, "but I've already got something good going with someone. No need to push my luck with anyone else."

At this, she raises an eyebrow, curious, cautious, wary. "Nice, how?"

"I mean, she's beautiful," you say, "very pretty." Easy things. Surface things. These things anyone could list off. "Cute voice."

"Nothing in particular, though, huh." Her eyes flick back to the performer onstage - Kazuha's walking the catwalk, kicking her heel out at the men closest to her; her skirt rides up, and everyone goes absolutely wild for it - and then returns her focus to you. "Not your type?"

You've been in this seat - or one just like it, at least - watching Kazuha's ass onstage for countless nights. You're well aware of her appeal, but you can't figure out a harmless way to say your mind is giving you three images of a palm-print burning across the same expanse of skin at any given moment.

You shrug, ambivalence feigned. "I guess not."

"It's funny." She props her chin on her palm, her nail polish glittering against her jawline. She's barely touched her drink. "The girl's normally such a doll, right? Kind of girlish. Could barely hold a conversation with a boy when I met her. And now she's all that. On stage."

"Hmm," you reply, like you can't imagine it. "Is that right?"

"Oh yeah," she tells you, half-smiling. Her lipstick leaves marks on the glass as she takes her first sip. "Years of ballet school will do that to a girl. Though maybe something about performing just became second nature."

"Explains the legs," you mutter, feeling the look she levels with you; dangerous. "And the gracefulness," you amend quickly. She raises an eyebrow at you, and you raise one right back; it's a power struggle, and when her fingers curl across her chin, you almost choke on nothing.

"Legs and grace," she says. "That's about it for her, huh?"

You nod, your voice quiet, soft.

"How do you know her?" you ask gently.

"Oh, honey," she croons. Her face is halfway to laughter, mirth perched like a threat in her voice. She puts a palm flat on the counter and slides it forward so her manicure scrapes at the varnish. Leans into you over the edge of the bar and presses her lips to your ear. "I'm fucking her."

Everything in your brain stops, and starts; everything crashes down around you; everything rearranges.

"You know," the girl continues like she's explaining something casual, something innocent, "she's real fun on her hands and knees. Can't get enough of me." She tilts her head, contemplative. "I suppose she is beautiful," she adds, almost thoughtfully, and then reaches out her fingers. Tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "And graceful."

All you can picture are those gorgeous, creamy thighs marked up by nails like razors: bruises shaped like fingertips, angry scratches that would leave scars if pushed hard enough. Things for her to return to.

You swallow. You blink.

"She's very lovely," you say, careful, careful.

"Listen." The girl leans away, sweeps her red hair back over her shoulder, fixes you with her heavy-lidded eyes again. "We don't have to pretend we're in love or anything." Her voice is velvet, husky; the words catch at your eardrum and melt there, dripping down the bones of your skull like liquid seduction. "She's busy, clearly. So, I'm looking for a little company tonight, and I think I've found it."

"And your girlfriend?"

"Can't make it." She smiles, wolfish. "Which, if you don't mind me saying, is very lucky for you."

"Girlfriend, who you fuck into the mattress," you clarify. "She'd have no problem sharing?"

"With a pretty thing like you?" Her eyelashes flutter - the way they sweep low makes shadows across her cheeks, delicate. "No chance she'd object."

Your mouth twists to the side. "What's the catch?"

"No catch," she purrs. "Just: I'm going to go to the bathroom, and I think you could follow me there in five minutes, tops. Sound like a plan, handsome?"

Oh.

Okay. You think vaguely that Xinyu's probably got a hand in this, somehow. Doing this on purpose, leaving you here to fend for yourself - and it's a very Xinyu kind of move, really: setting you up with some stranger, letting her proposition you, and waiting for it to escalate past the point of return. Sending you right up to a pretty pair of vices, telling you to chew them down to size. Maybe if you do good - you already know how she wants you to perform - you'll get an actual reward later. Another girl for you to fuck, or maybe Xinyu herself. Or both. Your brain is spinning in circles. You really, really can't think straight with her breathing right onto your pulse.

"What, you've got something better to do than fuck two girls tonight? The girl seems to weigh something out in her mind; watches you through a side-long glance. "You really can't drop everything to play around for a little bit?"

So maybe it's not Xinyu's handiwork - this is a little too far-fetched, even for her - but you can't lie. When she goes ahead, drags her fingers on your shoulder as she glides by and doesn't bother looking back, the way your cock throbs makes it easy to decide that it doesn't matter.

-

You get lost a bit on the logistics. (That'll actually be a recurring theme.)

There's a pair of single-occupancy toilets in the back of the bar, ostensibly family washrooms; for mothers with children, wheelchairs, sloppy bathroom sex with god-blessedly gorgeous strangers, that sort of thing - but they're occupied. Both the handles spun up; red tags flipped up to indicate engagement, a motif, and symbolism in spades. Something heavy-handed and easily ignored.

"Maybe I should just get on my knees right here," she suggests eventually - like a joke, but she'd do it. You're pretty sure.

"Absolutely not," you counter, only a little bit scandalized. She grins and presses a palm flat to your abdomen.

"Just problem-solving." She's totally blasé. "Critical thinking."

"Careful with that," you warn her, sorta unreasonably given where your fingers are on the cut of her hips.

She pretends to think about it, fingers tapping thoughtfully on her lip, a comical exaggeration, and you just roll your eyes. You think about getting her name, maybe a number - you could just leave it at that, save her contact info under tall, great ass, (fuckable) lips and pray to hell it never comes up as recommended when someone else texts you.

Yeah, right. It's better to just bury yourself in this until it all dissolves - stick to the immediacy of it. Get your mouth on every part of her body and lick her clean, and then be gone before the sun rises. Right?

She pulls you down by your neck and slots your lips together again, slow, agonizing, her lips slipping over yours like they're made to be there. She kisses like it's an art form - something you can perfect, practice - and her tongue darts along the seam of your mouth like she wants to coax you open. There's the bite of cherry lipstick, sweet and candied; her fingertips into your belt loops, then yanks you toward her with her nose scrunched and a wicked smile.

"I can't believe you'd let me fuck you with your back against the wall like this." Her hips bump forward into yours - she's playing at bashful, coy and innocent. She's failing miserably. "What if someone sees?"

"I think you'd like that," you answer.

"Mmm," she agrees. She's tipping her head back, sliding her tongue across her upper lip, baring her neck to you. Her eyes flick back up, dragging like a blade. "Letting someone walk by, seeing you pushing into me, knowing I was about to make you lose control...yeah. Sounds hot, honestly."

"Shut up," you murmur, leaning closer.

"Make me," she kisses back, eyes flashing; oh, if you didn't feel it before, this is definitely how you know you'll see her again: you recognize the power in her stance, the firecracker-red blaze in her glare - it's like looking in a mirror, that domineering aggression. It's the promise of a rivalry; something you'll want to tame.

A wayward thought lingers: oh, hell - your mind is rapid on the recall, an endless, eager, addicting memory loop - how she kisses, too. The silky sweetness, the enthusiasm - the way her hands bury in your shirt and her pitched, muffled sounds of appreciation spill right into your throat. How she's such an obscene daydream, and the filthy, filthy things she tells you with her hands in your hair - the shock of that, her bold, pretty mouth telling you what she's fantasizing about right now and the fact that those fantasies line up with yours in nearly every sense. Her very presence is a contradiction, her mismatched gestures: tender kisses and wandering hands; how, for every inch given, she'll take five more.

You get your fingers under her skirt, pull her legs up to your waist; she wraps her palm over your cock; smiles against your lips, almost smitten but too arrogant for it: a villainous grin. You hitch one of her thighs over your hip, her panties damp against your slacks. Oh, how good she is - how perfect the feeling, how beautifully her teeth sink into the soft underside of your lower lip like you belong to her: a piece of property.

"That's it, sweetheart," you groan, kissing the apple of her cheek, letting the blush seep right under your tongue. Your hand hovers near her inner thigh. "God, you're so fucking sexy."

"Touch me," she hisses into the skin of your cheek.

"So demanding," you hum.

"Oh, shut the fuck up," she moans, arching into your chest - but her eyelashes flutter as your thumb ghosts across the fabric of her underwear, teasing. "Ah-ha..."

You'll justify it later, somehow: a cheat night, maybe - Xinyu's so used to getting other girls all to herself, you should have a few all to your own - and this one doesn't count as one, really; she belongs to someone else anyway, the raven-haired girl with the siren voice, long legs in silk stockings and pearls across her neck and high-heeled boots clicking across the pavement. And Kazuha doesn't even have to know: she's busy, probably; off with another guy or two or three. No reason to tell her what happens - you certainly won't complain. One orgasm and the redhead will be out of your hair.

There's a side door, some stairs. Nobody stops to ask who you are or where you're going, or even so much as bat an eye as you spill out into the alley - where people go to smoke or fight or vomit; she kisses you outside in the cold air, sliding her hands into your pockets and pushing up to the tips of her toes. There's a smile on her face like you're her best idea ever. It's cold out; she doesn't appear to care.

"God, I'm wet," she breathes, and you don't have to believe her.

"I bet I can help with that." Your jacket slides across your shoulders, off onto the concrete. You're leading her around a corner and against a brick wall. It's dark here. Dark enough for mistakes. Dark enough that you can press her spine to the bricks, slide your hands to her sides and lift her up, taste the lipstick across her jawline-

"Oh my god," comes a voice - softer, sweeter, a total siren lilt. "Please, fuck, that feels so-"

Both your heads swivel.

One streetlight illuminates Kazuha with her back pressed to the bricks and her hand curled tightly in all this black hair, panting, pleading: a perfect fucking masterpiece. She's got her eyes screwed shut, her lips parted; she's absolutely lost.

"Huh," says the redhead, dispassionate - and her fingers curl loosely over your forearm, drumming rhythmically. "Looks like she got distracted after all."

The hand between her legs is fucking her up and doing it fast, snapping sharp wrist motions accompanied by these rhythmic, throaty gasps from Kazuha as she holds onto the edge of a dumpster lid, clawing at metal. There's a muffled string of curses as the woman crouches, leaning forward - shoving her tongue inside. "Fu-uck," Kazuha manages, two distinct syllables - and her grip tightens around her waist, her spine. You catch the light shining off her gold earrings like a flash-warning, and you fall short of a breath.

“Xinyu?” you sputter. “What’re you-”

Xinyu extracts her hand from Kazuha’s cunt, licks her fingers clean and turns to you, not at all guilty - but she isn’t sorry, either. You blink hard.

“Oh, hey,” says Xinyu, cheery as anything. She brushes off her dress. “Didn’t think I’d find you here.”

“Neither did we,” you choke, dry-mouthed. “Are you…”

“We’re making use of some downtime,” offers Kazuha, smoothing down her hair, wiping off her smudged lipstick. The makeup is so precise that it doesn’t look smudged at all - or maybe that’s just how used she is to covering it up. “Is there a problem?”

“No, none-” Your mouth snaps shut as Xinyu meets your stare and gives you an impish little shrug, biting back a smile. She saunters over to where you stand, keeping a respectable distance.

“Look at this, babe," Xinyu says. She gestures to the girl you were making out two seconds ago, casual. "I found him first. Isn’t he handsome?”

“You’ve got weird taste,” replies the redhead, not unkindly, tilting her head back against the wall and exposing all that gorgeous skin. You can see her chest rise and fall in ragged breaths. Xinyu walks a hand up your torso, palms your collarbone with a suggestive smile - it's a little possessive, but then again, you realize you’ve forgotten to let go of the other girl's hand.

“You would be into him,” retorts Kazuha. She laughs softly. “Hi, Jen,” she adds, almost as an afterthought.

“Hey,” Yunjin says, wiggling her fingers, lazy. “Loved the performance."

"Shut the fuck up," snipes Kazuha, rolling her eyes, but she's flushed, halfway to an orgasm that's not gonna happen because everyone is apparently choosing now to puzzle this one out. "Could see you flirting with him the entire time, idiot."

"He's super fucking hot," says Yunjin. "Oh, speaking of which-" She tugs you closer by your wrist - you're stuck, standing still, trapped between three gorgeous women ready to argue over who saw who first.

“Wait,” you manage, breaking free. Yunjin huffs. Xinyu frowns, blinking. Kazuha leans back against the wall.

“We didn’t plan this or anything,” explains Kazuha. “Xinyu just likes what she sees sometimes.” There’s a practised ease in the way she says this - like this has all been rehearsed before between the two of them. "Or, well-" Kazuha lifts a shoulder, delicate, polished. "A lot of the time, I guess."

"Yeah," Xinyu says, not defensive. "So?"

"Well," you say, after a long moment - your mind working furiously to process, reconcile, synthesize - this scene where you're being pulled in six directions at once, trying to put this story together before any more pages flip.

"That's your girlfriend," you say to Yunjin, finally - and point a finger towards Kazuha.

"And yours," says Kazuha, one hand on Xinyu's hip. “Hi,” she adds.

"Yep," says Xinyu. "How about that."

She steps up close to you and bats those dark lashes. Behind her, Kazuha’s gaze catches your glance; it takes you a solid ten seconds to realize she’s trying to place where she’s seen you before - it clicks for her all at once, though it's a lot quicker for you - and then it all slots neatly into place, every cog and screw lining up in an easy motion.

“So.” Yunjin chews idly at the pad of her thumb. "What, you guys met once at the mall or something?"

"Yeah," you reply, realizing exactly how you and yours have come to fall for two of the same type. "We met at the mall."

If you'd like to imagine that this goes smoothly after that - it doesn't. Not really. It's more accurate to say that Yunjin looks at you, your blank stare, the panic - and the three girls just dissolve into laughter, giddy and conspiratorial like they've just pulled off the world's greatest coup.

"C'mon," says Yunjin. She's so good at reading social cues - like, oh, you being totally stunned-silent by the sheer amount of sexual energy suddenly coursing through this alleyway. "You said it yourself," Yunjin reminds you, gesturing at Kazuha, "beautiful, very pretty, nice legs." She brings her lips to your cheek. "You didn't lie about that."

"What?" says Kazuha.

Yunjin just smiles, brushes a lock of red hair behind her ear. "We have taste," she tells Kazuha, confident and poised - and then to you, hushed under her breath, "I'd watch you rail her," she murmurs. Her tongue darts out, pressing wet and warm into the shell of your ear. "Would you like that?"

"That's-" you start. You stop. Xinyu looks over at you, a devious flicker lighting up her eyes - oh, god; if that doesn't spell disaster, nothing does -and the grin she gives you is so downright evil you wonder why you ever dared dream you stood a chance. She looks back over at Kazuha, reaches out a hand to clasp gently at that impossible waist, pulling her in close.

"Sweetheart," Xinyu drawls, tracing a thumb over her jawline. "Doll," she continues, letting the nickname linger. She leans up, pecks a kiss against Kazuha's mouth - but her eyes don't leave yours for a second. She bites down gently on Kazuha's lower lip, tugging lightly at the skin before letting it snap back.

"You know I wouldn't ever get jealous over sharing something with you," Xinyu murmurs. She says it like a proclamation; something binding, solemn - a pact signed in ink, wax-sealed and pressed into the skin of Kazuha's collarbone. They're practically the same height. It makes your throat run dry. "You get me," she says.

Yunjin laughs, but not meanly. "It's cute how you pretend you aren't selfish," she says to Xinyu, rolling her eyes. Her lips curve upwards. "Tell me something I don't know." And then - you feel her fingertips trail delicately over your waistband, slipping her thumb below the hem of your jeans. "Hey, Kazuha?"

Kazuha drags her focus off Xinyu with visible effort, snapping back into the conversation.

"Wanna ride his face?"

Xinyu is grinning like a lunatic, gorgeous and predatory.

Kazuha gathers her hair off her neck. “He seems like the type who would want to eat pussy for hours."

"I wouldn't complain," you croak out - and Yunjin laughs. It’s genuine, unpracticed, the sort of thing that shakes her shoulders; it fills you up.

"Why don't you sit back down against that wall," she tells you, nudging at your ribs. Her touch feels electric. "Relax."

Oh. She says it like an order, and you realize that she knows full well what it'll do to you. She's still smiling, though it's sharper now, sharper, hungrier - like the glint of fangs that'll tear you apart. It's really no wonder you ended up exactly where she wanted you - but then you realize Kazuha's looking at you, and you realize that you're not entirely sure whose team you're on or if there even are any teams here. It's not like you can complain. The most you can manage is a grunt of acknowledgement, sitting down slowly, trying not to trip over your own feet and ruin everything.

"Good boy," Yunjin quips, quiet enough to feel private, intimate. You blink up at her, still holding her hand in your lap as you sit down, staring like she holds the key to all seven wonders of the world in her palm. "Kazuha," Yunjin calls over her shoulder, patting your arm. "Get over here. Come meet my new friend."

And that's sorta how you wind up in some kind of...what-the-fuck situation? Some otherworldly thing you shouldn't even hope to explain - some alternate dimension shit with two beautiful women pressing you back against some dirty-ass brick wall in the alley behind your usual haunt, a third one laughing hysterically at all four of you. You feel like the dumbest motherfucker alive, especially when Xinyu whispers something in Yunjin's ear, and it earns a resounding laugh, but mostly just because your girlfriend's hands are everywhere and Yunjin's sitting back and watching like it's prime-time television.

That - and also because Kazuha's decided she needs your face buried in her cunt ASAP, and frankly, you can't even muster up the energy to disagree.

-

First things first: the bar is packed - oh, wait, no: it's always packed. But especially so on the nights where you're trying to navigate this stupid situation, you got yourself into where three fucking goddesses have you on rotation, like clockwork. 

You're collecting coats and closing tabs, doing your absolute best not to bring any more attention to how Kazuha's wobbling on both legs because she can't quite walk straight anymore.

Yunjin - your current distraction, clad in the most perfect shade of red lipstick, clinging onto your favourite girl like a lifeline - keeps leaning over to Xinyu, whispering frantically in her ear, and it's like the more they talk, the more amused Xinyu gets.

"I told Yunjin your apartment's the closest," Xinyu says to you, eventually, a small smirk forming on her face. "Think she wants you alone for a while. Sounds like she thinks you could really, uh-" She nods toward you, gesturing pointedly towards your belt. "Blow her back out, is how she phrased it."

Oh. Well, then. Yeah, no, you'd be perfectly okay with that.

When you glance back over at the rest of your - you don't have a word for it - entourage, all three pairs of eyes are locked on you, expectant and eager. Jesus fucking Christ. You make brief eye contact with Yunjin; her smile grows impossibly wider. This was meant to be a casual night, wasn't it? A nice outing at the lounge bar where you down drinks and enjoy the scenery - that was how it started, right? Then Yunjin had shown up, demanding all your attention like you owed it to her just for existing (and honestly? You kinda do). It'd been an excuse to look at Kazuha's tits, and then another to press your mouth all over Xinyu's - but the way your girlfriend's looking at you makes it abundantly clear that that ship's already sailed. 

Kazuha raises a water bottle to her lips, looking cool and confident as ever (oh, you know better).

"Didn't mean to invite everyone over, but." Xinyu preens, adjusting the hem of her skirt and checking for signs of wear. She knows exactly what she's saying, exactly what you're thinking - there's an intentness to her words. "You wouldn't mind, right, baby?"

"Yeah, sure," you agree, glancing up at all of them with a nod. You've never moved faster in your life; your coat's over your arm, keys in your pocket, the whole ensemble. They're watching you, waiting patiently. Xinyu raises an eyebrow. "Lead the way?"

She beams. She turns, slips her purse strap over her shoulder. "Alright," she chirps - and the four of you take off into the night.

-

It's funny, you think: Xinyu's also had a weak spot for Kazuha, probably since the first time she saw her perform. (That's the part that sticks out in your brain.) But then again, maybe Kazuha knew about Xinyu too; they seem pretty damn cosy for this being their first interaction with each other, though you suppose you can't judge - you were practically aching for Yunjin within an hour of meeting her, weren't you?

But whatever. Your cock is in Yunjin's hand, and your mind is very much not present right now. That's the important thing.

By the time you finally unlocked your front door, all four of you stumbling in - everyone tipsy, aroused, dying to get their hands on someone's skin - Yunjin immediately glued herself to you, pushing your coat off your shoulders. She'd gotten your zipper undone in record time. It's not the first time, obviously: she's got this ghost of a grip around your cock already, a knowing stroke, this way of handling your arousal that feels almost proprietary in its control.

There's an island in the kitchen; you're washed up on its shore. Fingers spread across the marble sand as the edge presses against your lower back. "Drinks are in the—"

"You can skip the fanfare." Yunjin is stroking you, her other hand at the nape of your neck to pull you down, kiss her; your mouth meets hers, hot, messy, too hard. Pick up where you left off sort of thing. Some unheard conversation must have planned this, on the street or in the hallway or the elevator—they'd figured out some secret plot, who got what, how they would split up, and it starts here.

It's in your periphery that you see them cross, hand in hand, watching you come undone by the vixen in red. Xinyu is taking the lead, and you can see her mind working overtime to figure out what would drive you the most insane right now. She stops at the couch, centre-view, perching herself on the back of it to pull the other girl against her. Kazuha giggles in the high pitch, something that sounds too sweet to come from someone whose job it is to get men going—and maybe she does that on purpose: the look over her shoulder accompanies a feigned innocence.

Xinyu looks past her, gaze falling over Yunjin first: red dress, blood red lips, hair like a hearth-fire, and the hand moving on your cock in your unbuckled jeans. "A head start? How unfair." She rolls her eyes with all the mocking derision she can muster, but her smirk betrays her. She's pushing Kazuha by the shoulder, putting the dancer down on her knees. Even in the most compromising position possible, she looks immaculate: she sinks, legs together, ass perched on her heels. There's not a strand of hair out of place, and even in her lust, Xinyu strives to maintain the fact, so she takes care in the way she pulls Kazuha between her thighs. A gentle, fingertip hold, as she spreads her knees to frame her.

You watch with rapt attention; you can hardly look away. The whole thing is artfully posed.

Yunjin says your name, the first word you've heard from her, and you've only missed it a little. Your gaze moves to her. You expect another comment, snide, but her mouth parts, like the words have been stolen right out of it.

"You good?" You're trying to be a gentleman, if not an asshole—and it works, too; it spurs her back. She bites the corner of her lip and hums.

"Yeah, you know." A half-shrug accompanies her words as she lets you slide a strap from her shoulder. "Still waiting for you to blow my back out."

Oh. You laugh, hoarse. Yeah, that's—that's on the agenda, for sure.

It's just—the show, right across from you, has started.

Kazuha, in her performance, has Xinyu's skirt pushed up around her waist, face against her thigh, breath hot on her skin, fingers splayed over her knee to press her legs even wider. The most natural seduction; the effortless allure that laces every part of her. Her lips against skin are soft and pink, moving against the curve of the muscle, mouthing up higher. You know how that feels—travelling the vast expanse of Xinyu's long legs in search of something to bury your face in.

"She's in for a treat," Yunjin whispers.

"So am I," you return, placing a hand on Yunjin's now strapless shoulder and putting just enough weight into your hand that she knows she's going down.

"Can't promise I won't bite," she warns, in the tone that makes your throat dry, in the way you think she just might. But you've also had the image of Yunjin's head bobbing in your lap the whole cab ride home.

If there's a heaven, you'll find it in a mouth like this one: soft-lipped, warm and wet, tongue on you. You reach for the back of her neck, feel the silk of her hair under your palm as she sucks hard enough to make your hips jerk. Then there's the gentlest of grazes—her teeth on your shaft, and it makes your jaw tighten. She's all smirk and smoulder, eyes coming up to see what kind of face she's making you pull.

"Oops," she laughs.

"Fuck," Xinyu gasps, the loudest sound in the room. There's the slightest shift of Kazuha's shoulders, the way her back bows when her tongue drags from slit to clit; nose pushed up tight.

Xinyu, still leaning over the back of the couch, turns her gaze toward you, then, heavy, desperate, and dark: an intensity that hits right in the base of your stomach and twists like a dull knife.

Xinyu trades pleasured gasps for a coy remark. "Look at her go. Eats pussy like she'll starve to death without it." It's like she needs to comment on it, all casual, as if there weren't someone between her legs, making her thighs tense.

Yunjin pulls back just long enough to say, "Tell me about it." Then she goes deep enough that you see your cock hit the back of her throat. No warning. You cough out an obscenity. It's good, and it's better because of what you're looking at.

"Yeah?" Xinyu says. "Be pretty easy to cum like this, you know?" The implication hangs in the air, unaddressed.

Just like Yunjin before you, you agree. "Tell me about it."

Your girl, on the couch, her body twists again. Kazuha is making her work to keep the upper hand in all this, if there's such a thing, and she has to put conscious effort into keeping her words steady. Her focus is on you, on your face, on how your mouth opens every time Yunjin sinks her mouth to the hilt.

"Do you wanna cum like this?" Yunjin says to the underside of your dick, her hot breath against your length.

You look to Xinyu for a final answer: her head's back and her chin tilted high in a groan that fills the room, an arcing note in a rising song that starts between her thighs. Her hands grip the cushions.

"She's close," You say off-handedly. An easy observation. It doesn't answer her question.

"Could finish you so easily," Yunjin hums. You feel her words against the crown. She swirls her tongue, and you clench your fists.

"Faster than Kazuha?"

"Much faster." Yunjin grins like she's just thrown down a challenge. And you get why it works: competitive to a fault.

"No chance," Xinyu manages. There's sweat on the skin that shimmers with highlight, her chest heaving with every laboured breath, "absolutely—" Kazuha presses forward, and the rest comes out a curse. She grits out the words. "Impossible."

"Bet?" says Yunjin, her nails dug deep enough into your skin that it leaves little crescent moons.

Xinyu's head lifts. There's a smile on her face that's just shy of wicked, "I'd say winner takes all."

There are very few bets that Xinyu won't take and fewer stakes that she won't gamble with, but she's got confidence in Kazuha's ability, and time is a-ticking. Even with how wound up Yunjin's got you, watching them, it's still an even race at this point. Kazuha has a lot to prove: this is a test to see if her pretty lips and clever tongue can get her girl to the finish line faster than anyone else.

And, oh—she can taste it, can't she: Xinyu dripping wetness to her chin, her folds spread and cunt eager. The dancer's a performer of many skills: her fingers slide inside, her mouth locked in place and sucking hard until Xinyu is fucking her mouth with the back and forth of her hips. In a moment of indulgence, she presses Kazuha's face deeper, harder. It's rougher, meaner: she pushes her up tight enough that her air might just get cut off, if it weren't for the moans that slip from the singer's mouth. "God—" You think she says, and then nothing but sharp inhale and the jolt of her hips that has Kazuha's nails in the flesh of her inner thighs.

Yunjin's picking up the slack on you. Maybe to wipe the smirk from your girlfriend's face, or maybe she just really wants your cum down her throat. That's fine. You're not opposed.

Mouth briefly replaced by hand, strokes hard and tight, so she can talk and please. "Better cum in me soon. You'll lose." She winks. She's not wrong, and she sucks in her next breath like she knows it. That mouth on you again.

Let's be real. Let's not get it twisted. You win. You always win.

Xinyu will cum first. It's one of those facts in life. Death, taxes and Xinyu's climaxes.

It starts in her chest—a hitch that becomes a heavy rise and fall, a moan from deep in her throat. Her body follows it: every limb taut like strings in a bow. Tension: her head back to the sky and the arch in her back like a crescent. Her legs start to shake. It's there that you feel your blood thrumming, the adrenaline that starts that climb before your fall, and Yunjin takes her cue to speed things up on her end as Xinyu tumbles over on hers. Her thighs tense, tight, trembling.

"Oh—oh fuck—Kazuha." Xinyu moaning another woman's name always has a certain kind of kick to it, even more so with you down Yunjin's throat. She's never shy about this. Never timid. Always, unabashedly, the way it is with you and how she'll scream and cry for it, for the orgasm that wracks her like an electric current.

Kazuha has no interest in easing her down: the pads of her fingertips work her open, pumping inside, tongue flat to lap against the pulsing heat, riding her through each wave and crest, drawing them longer, higher. Xinyu's shaking with the overstimulation, hands in hair, but not pulling back.

"God. Fuck, Kazuha—" This time, there's the edge of desperation to it, so close to pleading for it to stop.

There's a moment when you lock your eyes. Xinyu looking through the strands of her dark hair that stick to her cheeks, and the sweat that glosses her forehead, the flush on her skin, her lipstick smeared in places. And that smile, her wicked grin in full bloom. Her breath coming in shallow heaving puffs. Kazuha is slowing. Stilling.

You've been teetering close to that razor's edge, the precipice of it, but there was only ever going to be one winner. Yunjin pulls her mouth from you and she has no idea just how close you were, just how cruel the denial, as she stands.

You say her name as a question: why would she ever fucking stop?

Her mouth to your ear, and you feel her smirking again, her teeth against the shell: "You lost," she murmurs.

"You lost," Xinyu echoes from across the room. She pushes Kazuha away, legs still unsteady, as she slides from the couch to her feet and straightens out the fabric of her dress. You watch as Kazuha touches the gloss of her lip and sucks it off her finger. Her smile is soft and warm when she gets to her feet. It's like a stage; everything posed: Xinyu and Kazuha, standing side-by-side and arms entwined.

"Second place," says Xinyu, looking you right in the eyes.

"I get it," you say. Your cock stands at full mast. "You don't need to remind me."

"Oh," she grins, leaning against the dancer, "I absolutely do." Her hand touches Kazuha's chin and lifts, kissing her deep, tongues dancing against one another's. When Xinyu's teeth drag along her bottom lip, you know she must be able to taste herself. "She's real good. Though I do wonder what her girlfriend is like," she whispers as she eyes Yunjin.

Kazuha speaks up. "She can definitely make a girl cum." She speaks with such nonchalance as if she's discussing the weather or what brand her shampoo is and not the way she's had Yunjin eating out of her cunt.

Kazuha is a professional; it's no surprise to hear she knows how to get a girl to see god, and it's no surprise that anyone she lays with has to be on top of their game. Xinyu knows, too. She grins, and she laughs, and she holds her waist like Kazuha's some sort of prize, and it's just so Xinyu, this display. "Lucky us." She touches a hand to the dancer's hip. She says to Yunjin, "We oughta try her out."

"You're going to leave him hanging?" says Yunjin, running a hand down your chest dangerously low before taking it back, a gentle press of lips on your jaw. "That's not very fair."

"He can help you out, right?" Xinyu offers, gesturing in your direction with one of those looks in her eyes. You know that one. "Make us cum." And her hand slips to the swell of Kazuha's breast, groping greedily. It's a demand that comes out as a suggestion.

Kazuha whispers something inaudible to Xinyu's ears and it must've been good because the woman hums, intrigued, the smile on her mouth turning wider and more mischievous by the second. They both take a step, both reach out, Kazuha takes your wrist and Xinyu takes Yunjin's. Wordlessly, they take you away from the kitchen and to the window: the massive wall of windows that line your apartment with the city behind.

"I want the world to see," Kazuha explains. "To wish they were you."

"Sounds a little cheesy," you quip.

"Sounds hot," Xinyu retorts as she places her hands on the glass. She bends forward so that the swell of her ass pushes out against the hem of her skirt, and against Yunjin, who is standing right behind her. "Don't you think, babe?" she teases Yunjin.

"Very," Yunjin says. She moves her fingers along the seams of Xinyu's body, finding their way underneath her top. You hear Xinyu breathe out through her mouth. Yunjin moves closer to Xinyu's ear and bites it. "But the only ones that'll actually get to touch you, to taste you... that'll be us, huh?" She moves her fingers along the waistband of her skirt.

Xinyu turns her head back at her, smiling. "They'll be able to see how well I can take it, too. You'll let them see, won't you?"

Kazuha perches in front of you, spreading her fingers out against the glass, lowering her shoulders, arching her spine and lifting her ass to the sky for your taking. In an instant, you're on your knees and appreciating her for everything she's worth. "You don't need to be a gentleman. Just go for it. You already had the courtesy earlier," she tells you as you move closer.

"Can't I take a moment to appreciate you first?" you reply.

"Do you have to?" Her laugh is half a moan, and she's pulling up her own dress. "Are you so infatuated by the sight of me? Because, believe me—" and her words are cut off as you sink your teeth into her cheeks, your fingertips pressing tight into the skin at her hip— "you've seen more than most get to."

You run a hand up the expanse of her thigh. "Savouring every moment," you hum into her skin.

"How romantic," she laughs. There are the smallest noises in the back of her throat that come with your touch as you caress her ass. Fingers into flesh, gentle pressure until you feel her roll against it. The perfect ass. The kind people would kill for.

You hear Xinyu gasp, the sharp breath: Yunjin's got her face pressed hard between Xinyu's spread thighs from behind. "Y'know—" your girl manages between moaning pants, "wasn't sure what to expect. This isn't how we usually do things." She's trying to hold the conversation together while Yunjin works to make a ruin of it. Xinyu braces herself against the glass. "Two girls at once is a pretty good score."

"I'd call it that," you hum in agreement as you pull Kazuha's delicate panties down her thighs.

"The two of you do this often?" Yunjin asks between licking Xinyu's dripping cunt and then slapping an ass cheek hard, enough to sting. It leaves an angry pink imprint on the flesh of her. Xinyu hisses, her fingers curling against the glass as she struggles to hold herself steady. Kazuha arches her spine to give you better access.

"See them all the time," Kazuha gently laughs, the breathiest moan breaking her sentence up, and she rocks herself back against you. "Taking someone home before my show even ends."

Xinyu's eyes open, and her vision is clear. She looks over her shoulder. Her hips are slow, riding the tongue that pushes deeper inside. Her voice is steady, and she's trying hard not to let Yunjin catch her completely, though the pressure on the glass betrays her. "Been keeping an eye on us, hm?"

You're dragging your tongue against Kazuha, circling around the wetness between her legs. You taste the sweet musk of her, and then you drag the flat of your tongue along the folds. She hums with a laugh that sounds a little breathier, more strained. Your tongue moves deeper, dipping into the parting of flesh, to taste the soft, velvet feel of her, the slick heat that comes with her arousal.

"You're not exactly subtle. Hard not to notice."

You push a little firmer, face into her ass, tasting the deepest parts of her and as she shifts on her knees, she lowers a hand to your hair and grabs a handful of it, keeping you where she needs you, fingers curled around the strands and the sting that follows. You hear the noise she makes, the way she shivers under your attention. It feels good.

"We have a fan," Xinyu jokes, but her laughter is cut off by a moan as Yunjin sucks harder on the soft folds between her legs. "Maybe two." There's the sound of skin hitting skin, and then a gasp. You know the sounds of Xinyu when her skin is slapped, or her flesh is bit.

Yunjin's hands roam her body freely. They're everywhere: touching, teasing. Her nails scratch and drag, and Xinyu groans when teeth meet her inner thigh again.

Kazuha is dripping against your chin now. Every lick sends another jolt up her spine, and every circle against her sensitive clit has her moaning. You squeeze her ass. She rocks forward. "Mhm..." Her lips part, and her jaw goes slack.

"What a pretty fucking mess," you hum against the wetness.

Xinyu takes Kazuha by the chin, pulling her into a kiss, and there's no way for anyone else to appreciate how beautiful they look against each other. Xinyu runs a hand up into Kazuha's hair, and her hips are still grinding, still pushing down onto Yunjin's mouth. "I'm gonna cum if she doesn't stop."

"Cum with me?" Kazuha says. It sounds desperate, almost needy in its demand: an urgency to share this. To do it together.

It doesn't sound like a bad idea at all.

"Not stopping," is the last thing Yunjin says as she continues to feast. You think she might have a point to prove, but if that means she wants to eat a pussy that good, then so be it. Your mouth works Kazuha faster: you spread the folds with your fingers and go to work on her clit. Your teeth catch the sensitive flesh, and she shakes with it, thighs threatening to tremble and tense, a strangled cry falling from her lips that she smothers by moaning it right into Xinyu's lips.

The taste of Kazuha on your tongue is something you'll never get tired of. Her sweet juice spills over, and when she arches, she cums harder, cries out louder until finally, her knees start to shake. That's how it starts, and with her orgasm comes Xinyu's too. There's a moment when the two are tangled together, when the sounds that fall out of them echo each other's. Their voices meet, their moans mix, and their tongues clash in their kiss, like they can't bear to keep any distance from one another. It's intimate, even amidst the other mouths on them. Even as Yunjin and you coax them through it. When it passes, the two cling onto each other, holding each other up, both of them trembling with the aftermath of a shared bliss.

Kazuha falls first: with a slow slump she sinks down to the floor, falling away from your hungry mouth and onto her hands and knees on the hardwood. She pants, heavy breaths, her head bowed, her hair in her eyes. There's a contented hum to the room as it all begins to settle down. Kazuha turns to you: there's that gorgeous smile, as she pushes back hair from her face. Her makeup is smudged. Her lipstick's a mess.

Xinyu follows after, but not without first stroking Yunjin's hair and kissing her, thanking her. Xinyu falls into Kazuha's embrace, the two of them holding each other up on the floor. Their heads are on one another's shoulders.

You lose your balance to a hard push. Your ass hitting the ground hard, sitting flat on the hardwood.

"Your turn." Yunjin grins, a hand pushing at the centre of your chest, keeping you from rising.

"You're going to do that right here?"

She grins at you. "Right now."

From here on out, it's just an inevitable, sordid decline into depravity. There is no message here, no moral, no meaning beyond the mindless, the reckless. There's nothing profound about the way Yunjin slips the other strap off her shoulder and pulls the material down to her waist to expose her braless chest. There's no wisdom in the way she moves into your lap, arms hooked over your shoulders.

No revelations come from how her bare pussy slides against the head of your cock. No matters of the world solved by the way you grope her tits in your palms. Nothing poetic about the sound that slips between her pretty red lips when you enter her cunt. This is just the way things are. This is barely a footnote on the night, not an epic climax. It's not a resolution or a denouement. Just another impending orgasm. You're just lucky you're at the centre of it all.

"Give us a show, won't you?" Xinyu murmurs.

Yunjin's got a smile on her lips that says, sure, sure, I can do that. She puts her hands on your chest, pinning you against the ground, her hips lifting and rolling as she slides you in and out of herself. "You think we should thank them? The people in the toilets?"

"Why's that?"

"Well, we'd have gone in there." Yunjin pushes her hips down hard onto you to punctuate her sentence. "We'd have fucked." She's taking control here: riding you in the centre of the hardwood floor. "You'd have cum." Another roll of the hips. "In me. On me." She gasps, moans. "That would have been that." It's all being said so nonchalantly. "But now, it's like this."

You laugh a little as you watch the woman ride you for all you're worth. "It's fitting," you say as you push yourself up from the floor, sitting face-to-face with the woman riding you. "Because you deserve so much more than a quickie on a dirty toilet." You wrap an arm around the small of her back. "And I'd much rather take my time with you." You buck your hips up into her, commandeering the rhythm as your pace starts to climb. You drive into her, pounding hard, as you bury your face between her breasts.

There are the smallest of noises that break free from Yunjin: the whines that get trapped behind her throat and the moans that slip between her teeth. She lets you handle her, and the only sound she makes is that soft whimpering and that sharp hiss when your fingers grip tight at her skin, and when her body slams down against your cock, you feel her tense and then shake around your shaft, squeezing and clamping down hard. She stifles her sounds.

"You good?" you whisper. She doesn't answer. At least, not at first. She gives herself a moment to catch her breath, as her nails drag across your shoulder blade.

She moans out a reply. "Oh yeah. So good. I'm so—" her words trail into a hiss of a breath.

You push her onto her back, pinning her to the ground as she laughs, arms above her head and eyes on yours, as you pick the pace back up again. "Show's still on," Xinyu says, somewhere on your peripheries.

"He fucks like a..." Kazuha whispers, unable to find the right words.

"I know," Xinyu laughs, before leaning in to kiss at Kazuha's jaw. "Doesn't he just?" The words are barely a whisper in her ear.

There's this shift in your periphery, Xinyu taking a place on the floor, her hand behind Kazuha's head as she spreads her legs again. It's rare you've found anyone who can keep up with Xinyu, but tonight's proven to be the exception. Kazuha's on all fours, leaning in for another taste. The sight has you groan.

Yunjin laughs at that, pulling your face back to hers, her legs wrapping around your hips, locking behind your back as she pulls you into her. "Don't get distracted now, honey," she says. Her fingertips trace along the muscles in your shoulders. Her lips curl up into a smile as her body shivers underneath yours, and you can feel it: that sweet clamping down of her pussy around your cock, and you know that she's close to coming again.

"Got an idea," you whisper.

"Wait, wait—" Yunjin claws at your back, holding you closer, tighter. "Just let me—" and you feel it. Her wet heat coating your length, pulsing. You roll her into it, feel the slick mess as her hips twist against the hardwood. She shakes, head thrown back, eyes fluttering shut, and lips parted. "There we go. Now, idea?"

"Come here." It's seamless, the way you move her around and behind Kazuha, positioning her face right against her girlfriend's ass. "Doesn't that look so good?"

"Beautiful," she says.

"Bet you eat that ass every chance you get, I know I would."

"Me too," Xinyu chimes.

"Yeah?" Yunjin says as she traces her hands along Kazuha's hips and curves, the lines that make her. She touches her thighs, and then she moves her fingertips to the cheeks of her ass. "Well." A kiss on the flesh of it. "You know. She does have such a pretty ass," she whispers.

"You both do," you reply as you mimic Yunjin's touches on her own ass.

She smiles into the skin, pressing more soft kisses along it. Her fingernails dig in gently as her mouth presses a little harder against it. Yunjin drags her nails over it, making marks. Yunjin moans softly, burying her mouth deeper between the cheeks. Kazuha arches with a moan of her own, rocking back. Yunjin sinks deeper, eating her girlfriend's ass like it was the last meal she'd have for days. The sounds are wet and hungry. Her moans are muffled as her mouth does its work. "God..." Yunjin groans into the flesh. Her hands roam up to Kazuha's sides, and she digs her fingers in and holds her, rocking the woman's hips against her face. It's like she can't get enough, and the taste must be so fucking intoxicating.

You're back inside Yunjin, the end of the train. She shivers again, moans again. Her nails drag up the small of Kazuha's back, marking the line of her spine with the gentle red trails. Her teeth scrape against Kazuha's skin, and she presses the pad of her tongue between her asscheeks again.

Yunjin's dress is still bunched at the waist, you bunch it and then hold it firm: it pulls tight across her toned stomach and gives you a handle, a grip to hold. You thrust into her, hard. She groans into Kazuha, and in turn, Kazuha gasps into Xinyu.

You hear Xinyu moaning, a note that arcs and echoes and then tapers off again. Kazuha is humming, soft and quiet, and Yunjin groans deeply. When the three of you all start to sync up, to fall into one steady beat, it feels right. It's everything falling together. Waves on the sand.

Xinyu is gasping; her head is back, and her throat is exposed, and her body is writhing with pleasure. She has her fingers buried in Kazuha's hair, clutching at it desperately, as she rocks back onto her tongue, onto her mouth, her hips bucking erratically. You're fucking Yunjin in slow and deep thrusts that have her moaning and shuddering, her fingers gripping hard into the dancer's thighs, and she's eating that ass with hunger, her own body responding to each motion of your hips in a ripple of a wave that runs up her spine, one after the next after the next.

This was never meant to last. There is no way.

You're on edge. Xinyu's on the precipice, and Kazuha is shaking.

There is no way, you say it again, and that's how your mind feels: unsteady, untethered, and it's in that haze that you slip your free hand to Yunjin's hip and guide it under her, have her press two fingers into the slickness that's so familiar, that she knows so well. You tell her. "Make your girlfriend cum." It's not an order. You've no authority here, in the mess that this has become, but she does, doesn't she: she's the only one who could get someone to sing for the world to see.

It's just seconds after when she slips the digits up inside that the woman is shaking, her back arching, and she's moaning in tandem with the way her hips roll back on you. Yunjin's fingers plunge deeper inside, and Kazuha shivers in delight. And then there's the smallest cry of a sound, and she's spilling wet onto the hand that keeps pushing her down. "You're so beautiful, Kazu," Yunjin murmurs, the words muffled by how she's buried her face between those cheeks, she's so damn close to her own climax. Kazuha is trembling, shaking. She moans out her release into Xinyu's wet cunt.

Thighs clamp hard on Kazuha's head. "Yes—" Xinyu cries out, as her hips rock upwards, bucking on Kazuha's mouth as she rides the orgasm hard, hands at her own breasts, groping greedily as her tongue drags her bottom lip under white, teeth bared: it's like a growl, almost, or a snarl, her eyes open wide, but staring right through everything.

And that's what pushes you over. You grab hard onto Yunjin's hip, the bunched fabric of her dress. Your fingernails drag against her flesh as you rut into her, hips thrusting again and again. She can't help the gasp, the sound, as your nails scrape deep into her thigh. She's so sensitive. The skin so soft and so receptive to touch. That noise turns into a moan. You know the sounds of her now. She doesn't need to tell you. You know. The pace of her breathing changes, and you hear the breathy little whimpers. When she gasps and when her cunt flutters, you can tell that she's close. And you know, when she cums because of the shuddering that runs up her body, the tensing of her muscles and that moaning that starts low and quiet before it grows, and then it explodes out of her in a sudden burst, like fireworks.

Xinyu's curling a finger. A beckon. You have a place to take, kneeling over her, and a finish that she demands.

"You know what to do, don't you?" she teases, a laugh on the tip of her tongue: that sharp and mischievous smirk, and the eyes that gleam in the light.

"I do."

She turns her gaze on the couple on the floor, the girls who've sunk onto one another. You can hear Yunjin laughing. Kazuha's fingers trail over her face, tracing the outline. "Go ahead," Xinyu says to you: not permission but expectation.

She presents her face as if it's a canvas and, yeah, sure, maybe you've done this more times than you can count, but you've still got your hand on your dick and the other on the back of Xinyu's neck, rubbing like it's the first time, and—

There it goes.

"God," Yunjin groans, "that's pretty."

Kazuha's contented hum agrees. They both reach a hand out to run their fingers across the mess of your cum, spreading it across the smooth expanse of skin, painting their art of Xinyu. There are no lines, no patterns, just the abstract swirl and the smearing that follows.

"Should take a photo," Kazuha suggests. "For posterity's sake."

"Too late," Yunjin mutters as she leans in to lick at the slick of white on the woman's cheek.

Soon, they're both at it, cleaning your girlfriend like she was the world's finest delicacy. And she basks in the attention. The centre of it. She's used to that kind of spotlight, though you don't think anyone shines as bright as her.

Yunjin takes a mouthful, opening to show the white on her tongue, and then her lips collide with Xinyu's. The cum is passed, tongue-to-tongue, a kiss shared. They share it with each other, a kiss that is truly sordid. You hear Kazuha's moan of excitement before you even realise what's happening: she joins in, making the kiss a trio. Three mouths passing your cum back and forth and the sound of their soft moans of delight.

It's hard to fathom that this is only the beginning. It's almost as difficult to comprehend just how far it's already gone, and the truth, as you see it, is that it doesn't need to make sense. Some nights are destined for excess. Nights like these. With a trio like this. You're not asking for any answers: all you're asking is that the four of you sink deeper, lose yourself to it.

The girls break the kiss, and Xinyu says, "You know, he has this walk-in shower. The big kind." You can hear the smirk in her tone like she knows just the kind of trouble she'll cause with her words.

"Yeah? I bet we could all fit in it," Kazuha hums, and there's that look of hers again, a little devious but mostly playful: a look of a girl who just wants to please everyone she comes into contact with. She can't seem to get enough, and she's just dying for a taste of more. Her hands slide along both women's waists, pulling them in a tighter embrace. Xinyu looks at you.

"You did always say—"

"I did."

"And, honestly, there's no better—"

"I know," you tell her, climbing to your feet and holding out a hand. "Come on."

[coolemmasulivan2]

A Beautiful Mess | 1

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Two neighbors who can’t stand each other, until an accidental kiss changes everything.

Word count: 2846

But close ain't close enough 'Till we cross the line So name a game to play And I'll roll the dice, hey

You and Lando Norris had a problem with each other. There was no denying it. Something about the other person made your skin prickle with irritation, like an itch you couldn't scratch.

You were a Monegasque kindergarten teacher, a job that suited you perfectly. You adored kids. Their joy and innocence made your life simpler.

Monaco had always been your sanctuary: peaceful, elegant, yours. But that changed the moment Lando moved in next door a few years back.

You got along with everyone. It was just who you were. Friendly, patient, easygoing. But him? He was the exception. Loud, cocky, and an absolute menace of a neighbor. Even if he spent most of the year traveling, when he was home, he made sure you knew. The roaring engines, the late-night laughter, the endless stream of people coming and going. It was chaos wrapped in luxury.

He could've lived anywhere. He had the money. But somehow, out of all the places in Monaco, he chose your building.

"I guess Lando's back?" Your sister said, raising an eyebrow as loud music blasted from the apartment next door.

You let out a deep sigh, chopping vegetables with more force than necessary. "He's been back for a while… unfortunately."

A smirk tugged at her lips. "Let me guess, he did something already?"

"Oh, just parked in my spot today. Again." You shot her an exasperated look before slamming the knife against the cutting board. "Someday I'll kill him. I swear."

She chuckled. "Maybe he's running out of places to park his collection."

"I don't care!" You huffed. "He's a billionaire, he can buy a garage. Or better yet, move to a bigger place and stop being my problem."

"You know he does all of this just to piss you off, right?" Your sister said as she sat at the dining table, watching you set down the salad. "You should just ignore him."

"I know!" You groaned, sinking into the chair across from her. "But I can't. He's impossible to ignore. He knows exactly how to push my buttons."

Lando and Max were deep into a racing simulator session, music blasting through the apartment as they waited for their food to be ready.

It was Max's turn on the sim, but the pounding music was messing with his concentration. "Dude, the music... turn it down." He grumbled, eyes locked on the screen.

Lando barely glanced up from his phone. "Why?"

"Because I can't focus! It's too damn loud." Max tried to keep his attention on the race. "Someone's going to complaine about the noise." Then a thought struck him. He paused the race and shot Lando a knowing look. "Wait a second… You want this, don't you?"

Lando shrugged. "No idea what you're talking about."

Max scoffed. "Bullshit. You're trying to piss her off. You want her to came here. That's why the music's so loud. What's your problem with her?"

Lando smirked, eyes flicking back to his phone. "It's fun watching her all worked up."

Max shook his head, half amused, half exasperated. "You know, she's actually really nice."

Lando snorted. "To you and everyone else. Not to me."

"Yeah, because you're an asshole."

Lando finally dropped his phone onto the desk and leaned back in his chair. "She's been like that since day one. She started it."

"And instead of finding out why, you just decided to make things worse." Max said, shaking his head. "Classic you!"

Before Lando could fire back, a knock on the door echoed through the apartment.

His smirk widened. "Told you, she can't stay away." He pushed up from his seat, heading for the door.

Max groaned, calling after him, "Dude, be nice, please!"

You bit your nails, pacing as you waited for Lando to answer his door. Normally, you were a calm and patient person. But Lando Norris had a talent for bringing out the absolute worst in you. And the worst part? He enjoyed it. You knew he did.

Inside your apartment you heard the door finally open.

"Hi!" Your sister's voice rang out, soft and sweet, just like she always was. Unlike you, she had never raised her voice in frustration, not even to assholes like Lando.

"Oh, hi!" Lando's voice dripped with warmth, and you immediately rolled your eyes. Of course, he could turn on the charm when he wanted to.

"Sorry to bother you…"

"No problem!" He said. You nearly gagged.

"Could you turn the music down a little?" Your sister asked politely.

"Yeah, of course. Sorry about that, I didn't even realize it was that loud. Really, I'm so sorry."

Your jaw nearly hit the floor.

You had stood at his door countless times, asking the same thing, and every single time, he would gave you a cocky remark, or worst of all, he'd turned the music up louder just to spite you. But with your sister? He was suddenly the picture of politeness.

You were seconds away from storming out of your apartment to tell him exactly what you thought of his two-faced behavior, but your sister's voice stopped you.

"I appreciate it. Goodnight."

"Goodnight!" Lando replied smoothly. You let out a deep breath, leaning your head against the wall in frustration. Your sister had just started pushing the door open when Lando added: "Oh, and say hi to your sister for me."

That was it. You clenched your fists, shoving past your sister, ready to wipe that smug grin off his face, but before you could get a single word out, his door clicked shut.

"I hate him so much."

From the other side of the door, Lando grinned like an idiot, watching you through the peephole as you stomped away in frustration.

"There's just something special about pissing her off." He mused, clearly enjoying himself.

Max, standing behind him with his arms crossed, let out a sigh. "You're an idiot."

Two days had passed since your sister left for Rome, where she lived with her boyfriend. You were alone again, not that it bothered you. Your parents still lived in Monaco, in the house you grew up in, and you saw them almost every day.

One of the things you loved most about Monaco was being so close to the ocean. Every morning, as soon as you opened your bedroom window, you would close your eyes and breathe it in—the salty air, the gentle breeze, the familiar scent that made you feel at home. It was the perfect way to start the day, making your morning run that much easier.

Like always, before heading to work, you laced up your shoes and stepped outside. Today was no exception.

You had been running for a while, sweat clinging to your skin as your breath fell into a steady rhythm. The music playing softly in your ears didn't drown out the sounds of the city.

Lost in thought, you instinctively turned toward your building, crossing the road without a second glance.

The loud sound of tires screeching against the asphalt snapped you out of your trance. A rush of air whooshed past as a sleek car came to a sudden stop just inches from you. Your heart leaped into your throat, your body reacting before your mind caught up. You stumbled back and before you could stop yourself, you were on the ground.

The driver's side door swung open, and before you even looked up, you knew exactly who it was.

Lando stepped out, his expression a mix of worry and frustration, but before he could speak, you were already pushing yourself to your feet, your hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline.

"Are you insane?" You snapped, ripping your airpods out. "You almost ran me over!"

His brows shot up. "Me? You're the one who ran straight into the road without looking!"

You opened your mouth to argue, but the truth of his words sank in. Still, there was no way you were letting him win this. "Maybe if you weren't driving like a lunatic--"

Lando scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Driving like a lunatic? I was literally pulling out of the garage."

You huffed, brushing the dirt off your leggings. "What if it was a kid crossing instead of me?"

"Then I would've stopped, just like I did now." He shot back. "But you... You didn't even look before stepping onto the road! What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I wouldn't have to worry about being flattened by my obnoxious neighbor before eight in the morning!"

Lando shook his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You're unbelievable."

"You're infuriating."

"You're dramatic."

"You're--"

"Y/n?" A new voice cut through the tension, making both of you turn. Standing a few feet away was your kindergarten director. Dressed in his usual grey suit, he raised an eyebrow at the two of you. "Is everything alright?" He asked.

You cleared your throat, suddenly aware of how ridiculous this must have looked, standing in the middle of the street, flustered, sweaty, and arguing with a F1 driver.

"Yes, everything's fine!" You said quickly, forcing a polite smile.

Monsieur Bernard nodded, then glanced at Lando. "I didn't realize you knew such a famous driver, Y/n!" He stretched his hand and Lando shook it.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "We're just neighbors."

Lando grinned. "Very close neighbors."

You shot him a glare, but before you could say anything, Monsieur Bernard continued. "You know, our little ones love racing. It would be wonderful if you could visit the school sometime, talk to the kids about it."

"Oh!" You forced a polite chuckle. "I'm sure Lando is far too busy. I wouldn't want to take up his time."

Lando, to your absolute horror, shrugged. "Actually, I think it's a great idea." You snapped your head toward him, eyes wide. "Yeah, why not? I've got some time before the season starts again. I'd love to come by."

Monsieur Bernard smiled. "That's wonderful! Y/n, can you please set everything up?" You smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Norris. It was nice to meet you."

"Likewise." As Monsieur Bernard walked away, you groaned, rubbing your temples. Lando chuckled, slipping his hands into his pockets. "See? I can be a good neighbor."

You exhaled sharply, turning on your heel toward your building. "I hope the kids throw paint at you."

Lando chuckled, watching you storm off, clearly frustrated with how the day had started. His gaze lingered for a moment longer than necessary and not even he could deny that your ass looked good on those leggings.

"Stop it, Lando!" He muttered to himself, shaking his head as if it would physically shake the thoughts away. "Don't go there."

With a deep breath, he slid back into his car, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary. Without another glance at the building, he drove off.

You lay in bed, scrolling through your phone, hoping to lull yourself to sleep. The soft glow of the screen was the only light in the room, your thumb moving lazily over the screen, until something in your feed made you pause.

Your eyes narrowed as you clicked on the reel. A fan edit of your annoying neighbor filled your screen, all set to a song that did nothing to make him look innocent. Quite the opposite.

Your breath hitched slightly, your eyes locked on the video as if trapped in some kind of trance. The way he carried himself, the confidence, the effortless charm-- No. Absolutely not.

The reel restarted, snapping you out of whatever trance had just taken over you. With a horrified gasp, you jolted upright, tossing your phone onto the bed like it had burned you.

"Ugh-- no. What the hell?" You threw a pillow at your phone, like the device was alive. "Even on my phone?" You groaned, burying your face in your hands.

This man was infiltrating every corner of your life. And you hated it.

The day had arrived.

The kids had been buzzing with excitement all week, their energy doubling ever since they learned that Lando Norris was coming to visit. It didn't matter that half of them were too young to understand F1, but the mere idea of someone fast and famous coming to their school had them bouncing off the walls. You, on the other hand, were bracing yourself for chaos.

You had done your best to keep the kids calm, but by the time the morning rolled around, they were practically vibrating with anticipation. What car does he drive? Will he let us race? Can he do drive in the playground?

And then, Lando arrived. Dressed in his McLaren clothes, sunglasses and wearing that signature smile.

The kids lost their minds. "Landoooooo!" The group rushed toward him, bombarding him with questions before he could even say a word.

"Whoa, whoa, one at a time!" Lando laughed, crouching down to be at their level.

You stood at a distance, arms crossed, watching as he handled the chaos with surprising ease.

"Can you drive faster than Batman?"

"Can we race you?"

"Do you get scared when you go super fast?"

Lando hesitated for a second, then grinned. "Sometimes! But that's what makes it exciting."

You rolled your eyes. Still, you couldn't deny that the kids adored him. They hung onto their seats, eyes wide with fascination as he described what it felt like to race at over 300 km/h, how he trained, and even how he sometimes got nervous before big races.

Somewhere in the middle of the chaos, you realized that Lando was actually good at this. He had their full attention, something you usually had to work twice as hard for.

And then, as if sensing your thoughts, he caught your eye from across the room and winked, making you gag.

Unfortunately for Lando, someone else caught the moment.

A little girl sitting nearby tilted her head curiously, her big eyes flicking between the two of you. "Is Miss Y/n your girlfriend?" She asked innocently.

Lando, who had just taken a sip of water, immediately started coughing. He nearly choked, hand flying to his chest as he struggled to recover. "What?"

You, on the other hand, wanted the earth to swallow you whole. The rest of the kids, now very interested, turned toward you both with excited expressions.

"Is that why you're here?" Another girl asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

"Do you live together?" A boy asked before Lando could even recover from the first question.

Lando, still slightly choking, looked horrified.

"Nope!" You cut in quickly, clapping your hands together in a desperate attempt to redirect the conversation. "Who wants to show Lando their artwork?"

A chorus of Me! Me! Me! erupted, and just like that, the kids forgot all about their matchmaking attempts, eagerly rushing to grab their drawings.

You let out a slow breath, glancing at Lando, who was still lightly hitting his chest.

"What the hell just happened?" He asked, his voice still uneven.

You crossing your arms. "They're kids, Lando! If you wink at their teacher, this is what you get."

"A vision of a nightmare?"

You shot him a glare. "Asshole!"

He smirked. "Such a dirty mouth for a kindergarten teacher."

Your jaw clenched. You took a deep breath, forcing a smile as sweet as honey. "And yet, still more mature than a F1 driver."

Lando grinned, leaning in just a little. "Debatable."

Before you could walk away from Lando, chaos erupted.

"Me first!"

"No, me!"

Two of the kids appeared out of nowhere, each clutching their artwork, too focused on their battle to notice where they were going. Straight into you.

You barely had time to react before they crashed into your legs, making you lose balance.

"Oh--"

Lando was sat in a chair right in front of you, and before you could steady yourself, you stumbled forward and fell right into him.

His hands instinctively came up to catch you, but it was too late. Your lips brushed against his. It was barely a touch, but enough to make the world stop.

The kids were still yelling, the classroom still buzzing with energy, completely unaware of what had just happened, but all you could register was the way your lips were still touching.

You quickly pulled back, eyes wide, heart racing. Lando blinked up at you, looking just as stunned, his lips slightly parted as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.

You straightened, feeling warmth creeping up your neck,

"This is my drawing." One of the kids said, tugging at Lando's sleeve. "It's a boat and this is my dad."

That snapped Lando out of it. He cleared his throat and looked away from you. "Wow, that's amazing! You're so talented."

You turned away quickly, your pulse still hammering as you focused on the children, pretending like nothing had happened.

Lando rubbed the back of his neck, still looking anywhere but at you.

For once, there were no smirks, no teasing, just the feeling that something between you had just shifted.

[beneathsilverstars]

Can you pls explain to me the proper way to raise a child gender neutrally, especially in a world that loves to push gender? It’s something I always wanted to do when I have my own kid but I’m scared the world is just not ready for that kind of thing and my child will get bullied by other kids/adults.

Unfortunately the feasibility of this does depend on where you live. I’m lucky to live in a fairly liberal college town — the state as a whole is awful, but in this town we have drag shows and a huge pride parade and rainbow stickers in shop fronts. There are still transphobic people here of course, but they generally know that being too overt about it will have social repercussions.

However! It doesn’t necessarily have to be an all-or-nothing thing! When your kid's a baby it’s up to you how you refer to them while in different situations, so you’re free to adjust your language as seems necessary. And then when they’re old enough to care, well, at that point it’s not up to you anyway! (My kid has decided she’s a nonbinary girl, hence the she/hers in this post.)

So here’s a list of things my partners and I did, and you can decide which things seem safe / worth it to you.

We gave her a name that doesn’t have strong gender connotations.

We shopped in the boys and girls sections equally, aiming for a roughly equal number of fancy little button ups vs fancy little dresses, pink diapers vs blue diapers, etc.

We told friends and family that we were planning to raise her gender neutrally and use they/them pronouns, until/unless she expressed a preference otherwise.

Our explanation to adults was along the lines of “We don't want to assign a gender to our child, because we think gender should be a freely-made choice rather than something that is assumed based on body type. So, we're raising them gender neutrally until they decide what they want to be. We’re not assigning them 'nonbinary', either; we’re using they/them to help avoid gendered bias, so they’ll get to experience feminine, masculine, and ungendered options equally. That way every option will be open to them as they learn their own preferences and decide who they want to be.”

Our explanation to kids was along the lines of “I don’t know yet if they’re a boy or a girl or something else! When babies are born, the doctor guesses what gender they’ll be. But sometimes the doctor guesses wrong, and the kid grows up to be a different gender. We decided not to guess what gender our baby will be, because we want to let them choose.” This usually makes perfect sense to 4-5 year olds! (Younger kids might not entirely understand or care, and older kids might have more questions.) However, you gotta be careful with this, bc even some people who are okay with you explaining your own adult transed gender won’t like you implying to their children that everyone should have that option and the whole system is bs. The less objectionable explanation is “I’m going to wait until they’re older to ask them whether they’re a boy or a girl.” Or even answering "What gender is your baby?" with "What do you think?" and then "Maybe!"

We didn’t announce her agab. When people asked, we refused to answer, more or less politely depending on the vibes. If you really want to make them feel bad you can give them a weird look and say “My child’s body is none of your business??” but there’s also the gentler “I don’t think it really matters!” We did fill out her assigned sex for official paperwork, like doctor's forms and legal government stuff, but for more casual forms we sometimes skipped the question or wrote in "we are raising them gender-neutrally" or "they/them".

We generally didn’t correct strangers or explain it to them unless they asked. Nothing wrong with some people assuming “she” and some people assuming “he”, as long as it’s not always just one or the other. If a stranger asked about their gender, I'd go for a quick "We're raising them gender-neutrally." I did also have to clarify fairly often that I only have one kid, when I talked about them and people assumed the "they" was plural, but that was never a big deal it was just kinda funny.

We did correct friends and family, since if they used gendered pronouns it was an active choice or mistake rather than a clueless assumption. Most of our circles are queer so most people were chill about it, but some family members changed one diaper and immediately assigned a pronoun set. We didn't think it was worth fighting over or limiting access, since it's not like they were disrespecting the baby's preference. But we did keep correcting them / emphasizing the neutral pronoun in our replies.

When she started preschool, we preemptively explained to her teachers that we're raising her gender-neutrally, and to please refer to her using "they/them" unless she said otherwise, and to avoid splitting the class into boys vs girls teams or anything like that. Again, fairly liberal town, and the preschool even has a teacher who uses they/them, so the teachers agreed without issue. iirc, they messed up occasionally but they were making an effort, and again I wasn't too bothered as long as my kid wasn't.

When she started using she/her sometimes, I let her teachers know, and told them to follow her lead. When we talked with friends and family we just used the right pronouns ourselves, and explained if they asked or it came up. And then once she was consistently using just she/her, we made a facebook post about it and started correcting people with a quick "She actually decided to use she/her, now."

And then here's how we talked about gender with her, specifically.

When she was old enough to start wondering who's a boy and who's a girl and what that even means, we explained, "Some people are girls, some people are boys, some people are neither or both or something else. I decided I don't want to be a boy or a girl, I'm nonbinary instead. You can decide if you want to be a boy or a girl or nonbinary or something else, too." and "Well, maybe that person's a boy, but they could be something else; I don't know because I don't know them. I don't know their name or anything either." We decided not to explain how differently most of society treats gender, the stereotypes of gender presentation, etc, until she started noticing that stuff herself. Explaining that it's wrong still involves putting those ideas into her head, which was going to happen pretty soon anyway regardless. Might as well start with a foundation of pure gender anarchy while we can.

When she noticed that every other kid she's met already had a gender, we explained "A lot of parents guess what gender their kid will be, and sometimes they guess right or sometimes they guess wrong. [Friend]'s mom guessed that she was a girl, and [friend] agrees! But when Mama was a kid people guessed she was a boy, and then she grew up and decided she's actually a girl. We didn't want to guess for you and maybe get it wrong, so we decided to wait until you were old enough to decide for yourself what gender you want to be."

Occasionally when the topic came up, we would ask if she felt like she wanted to be a girl or boy or something else, or specifically ask if she liked "they/them" or wanted to use "she/her" or "he/him". When she was ~2, she didn't entirely understand and didn't care. When she was ~3, she occasionally said she wanted to be a girl or use she/her, but immediately changed her mind as soon as we actually referred to her as such. (This is quite in-character for her, because she's generally averse to big changes and doesn't like to do anything she doesn't feel totally confident about.) When she was ~4 she finally stuck with it, and now she's a nonbinary girl who uses she/her, and her feelings about gendered terms like "daughter" still go back and forth a bit.

When she started expressing preferences in clothing, colors, etc, we just got things she liked, which ended up being dresses and sparkles.

As she started noticing gender differences, picking up stereotypes from school and media, etc, we'd address them as they came up. "Yes, a lot of people think dresses are just for girls. But I think that isn't very fair. Some boys love to wear dresses, and some girls don't, and that's just fine! It's not very nice to tell someone else what they're allowed to wear. (Unless they need certain clothes to say safe, like a jacket in the winter.)"

We also had to tell her to stop being sexist, lol. "It's fine that you think girls are awesome, they are! But boys are awesome too. It's not very nice to say you won't play with someone just because of their gender. If someone said they wouldn't play with me because I'm nonbinary, I would be so sad! If you don't want to play with [these three classmates] because they're usually too loud and rough, that's fine, but that's not because they're boys; that's because of what games they like to play. Some girls like to play loud and rough, and some boys like to be more careful and quiet like you. Can you think of any boys in your class who you like to play with sometimes? ... See, boys can like all sorts of different games, just like girls can."

We ended up getting the easiest resolution (at least for now): by the time she reached the age where kids start caring about these things, she'd started caring, and settled into being a classic girly girl (with the occasional splash of nonbinary flavor). If she'd stuck to they/them, she'd probably be starting to have a harder time in school -- definitely not full bullying, given her 12-kid 2-teacher private kindergarten class, but probably some frustration with constantly correcting people.

However... if she was more gnc, she woulda ended up that way sooner or later, anyway. If I was choosing between "she's out and proud trans and gets some shit for it" or "she's unhappy with being cis but doesn't realize she has other options," I'd always choose the former, because in that case she gets a choice. By the time kids are old enough to bully each other over gender, they're old enough to decide whether they want to be out at school, y'know? And I've always been ready to pull her from school if it ever became necessary due to peer bullying or unsupportive teachers, especially since she shares a lot of the traits that my wife got bullied for as a child.

It is possible to go 100% gender-neutral, and cut anyone out of your life who opposes it, including moving schools or even moving house if necessary. There are people who will support this choice, even cishet people who don't really get the trans thing but know that unconscious sexism can have a big effect on babies' development. Maybe more people than you think! But it depends on your local culture. And sometimes it takes a certain amount of privilege to be able to prioritize finding those people, and it's simply not worth, say, paying more to switch daycares to find a teacher who won't gender your baby. Sometimes you do have to balance your priorities, and you can't know how much balancing it will actually take until you get there.

So, overall, my advice is just to do whatever you feel comfortable with! What sounds worse to you: gendering your baby, or fighting against society's attempts to gender them? Obviously when you have a trans child you fight for them, but it's a muddier question when the child doesn't care yet. Most of our queer friends aren't going full they/them gender neutral with their kids like we did, because they don't want to have to constantly explain that on top of all the shit they deal with for being queer. Instead they're just being extra firm about shopping in both sections of the store, not falling to stereotypes, and explaining to their child that they can decide to be something else if they want.

And there's a lot of options in between -- maybe you use they/them at home, but he/him at school, or maybe even she/her at home to balance out the school. Maybe you name and dress them gender-neutrally (or both fem and masc) and don't correct any assumptions. Maybe you tell one side of the family that you're going gender anarchy neutral so they should avoid gendered terms, but you only tell the other side that you're going feminist equality so they should make sure to gift both pretend kitchen toys and pretend power tools. It's the same as deciding in what situations you want to be out vs stay stealth/closeted.

When they're a baby it doesn't matter much either way (as long as you're not being sexist in your reactions to their behavior) because they're a baby, they could not care less. And then when they're old enough to pick their gender, you're hopefully giving them that choice regardless of what you did when they're a baby. It's true that the starting point you gave them may affect their gender journey, but that's true of gender neutrality as well.

So if you think it'll be too risky in the time and place in which you're raising your child, you really don't have to feel bad about not doing it. It's okay to save your energy for when your child really needs it. But if it's something you're committed to, it is possible! I'm so glad that my family was able to make this choice. I actually loved the conversations that it opened up with all sorts of people about gendering children! Even though I got in trouble one time for explaining gender too well to the children at the daycare I worked at, lol. And I know that gendering my kid as a baby would've made me more uncomfortable than any number of awkward conversations. I love knowing that her pink purple flower unicorn heart dresses are something she freely chose!!

[glorixuspurpose]

can u make a dae ho fic about us being the only black person in the games and he’s lowk intrigued. and maybeeee it turns to a smut 😉

Keeping Watch

Kang Dae-Ho x black!reader

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: This took way too long because writers block was lowkey kicking my butt. I still feel like this is kind of buns but I could also write a part 2 where they play mingle? And there’s no smut cause I’m still working on it sorry queen😞

(222 does not exist in this story for the sake of plot(sorry jun-hee😞))

 You never thought you’d end up in a place like this. You had originally moved to Korea for university, before eventually staying and attempting a fresh start. Things were going well at first, finding a typical office job that paid and treated you well…that was until there were ‘necessary’ layoffs due to budget cuts and you were unfortunately on that list. You had found a sustainable job since then, but bills were piling up and you couldn’t work any more overtimes, which was how you found yourself playing ddakji with a businessman in a subway station; how you found yourself calling the suspicious number on the brown card; how you found yourself in a game where people were getting killed for money. 

 You brought your knees even closer to your chest, peering over them at all of the other people in the dormitory. It’s only been a day(or two, you had no clue what time it was here), and people were already separating into groups. There was the rapper, Thanos, and his group, then the former player Gi-Hun and his team, then the only other group you could make out was the girl you had only spoken to in passing, Hyun-Ju, and her friends, yet you pretty much had no one, and was still figuring out whether or not that was a bad thing. You found the answer in the second game, the 6 legged pentathlon. You stayed frozen in the sand, unsure of where to go or who to approach, but you already knew that most likely none of them would openly invite you(or accept you) into their group, and you knew why–your skin color. You couldn’t exactly be angry, it must be a bit strange to see skin that isn't as pale as theirs, but in a game of life and death it shouldn’t matter that much, right?

 The ten minute timer was getting closer and closer to zero, and you were getting more and more desperate. You attempted to put yourself out there a little bit, asking around, but instead you were met with weird looks or even nothing, the others just ignoring you. You were close to giving up until you saw a group of only five people, Gi-Hun’s group. At first, you were nervous about approaching them. They had never really talked to you before, let alone anyone else; what if they just treated you like everyone else did and just told you to kick the curb? Still, you persevered and approached them. They didn’t notice you, until you cleared your throat and all of their gazes were on you.

 “Um…I saw that you guys were only five people so…could I please join you guys? Obviously I’m not having that good of luck.” You muttered, rubbing your arm subconsciously as you averted all of their gazes. 

“Uh, well…we already have six people” Player 390 said as he stepped back, revealing another player. 

“Oh. I can go then–” You said, turning, before you felt someone grab your arm–player 388.

“You can stay with us! We’ll make sure we win, right guys?” 

“You know what? Yeah! We can’t leave this poor lady with some terrible group!” Player 001 agreed, shooing the other marine. 

                                                           ***

 When the first two groups had completed–and both had failed–all of your hope was gone. You probably couldn’t play any of the games, except for ddakji, but even then you struggled a bit. 

As the six of you were watching anxiously along with the rest of the players, 390(who you soon learned his name was Jung-Bae) turned to you. “Do you know how to play gonggi?”

You knew what the game was, and even some girls in your neighborhood had taught you how to play–but your skills were a work in progress. 

“I’m not that good…” You answered. 

Jung-Bae sighed. “Doesn’t anybody know how to play gonggi anymore?”

“Well…I can.” Dae-Ho spoke up, his face hiding behind the collar of his jacket. 

“You? A marine?” 

 “I used to play with my sisters a lot.” 

Jung-Bae nodded in approval, along with the rest of the group. He turned back to you. “Well, what can you play?” 

“Um…I can do ddakji I guess. I was pretty good.”

“Perfect! I can do the flying stone!” 

“I can do jegi.” Gi-Hun spoke. 

“Then I’ll do flying top.” Young-Il confirmed.

The short conversation was suddenly interrupted by the sound of gunshots. Everyone screamed and ducked their heads as the triangle guards killed the players that failed, leaving it to the other guards to take the bodies to their coffins and clean up the blood. 

As the third race started, Jung-Bae urged Dae-Ho to begin practicing Gonggi with stones, which he hurriedly complied. You didn’t have much else to do besides watch in fear as the losing team got shot. The room was slowly emptying out group by group, until it was finally your team’s turn to go. You were praying that you wouldn’t be the team to lose. 

The six of you lined up on the starting line as the guards chained your ankles together, and only one of your ankles chained because you were on the outside. 

“Let’s not lose hope, okay?” Jung-Bae assured. Dae-Ho nodded along. 

“If we believe in ourselves enough, we can do it! Besides, we have two ex-marines on our team!”

You smiled to yourself, forcing yourself to believe what he said. 

  As you expected from watching the other games, you were up first. You lifted the blue square in the air, eyes squinted in precision as you decided how much force would be best to flip the red square. You threw it down with contained force, flipping it first try. The six of you cheered, before linking arms and marching down to the next game, which was flying stone, which Jung-Bae also got first try. Next was gonggi, which had all of you crouching as you watched Dae-Ho play gonggi at practically expert level speed, which you honestly thought was pretty attractive–not that you’d ever say it. There was a momentary pause in the luck as Young-Il struggled with the spinning top and was constantly mentally(and eventually physically) beating himself up for it, but he finally got it and the six of you moved on to the last game, jegi, which Gi-Hun defeated with ease(with the help of Young-Il).

 Back in the dormitory, you sat on your bed as you ate what you assumed was dinner, not noticing Dae-Ho approaching you from behind.

He questionably called your name, as if he had only heard it in passing, making you jump.

“Sorry if I alarmed you…I just wanted to say you were really good at ddakji in there.” He complimented, now standing in front of you.

“Me? You were amazing at gonggi, it was like you were a professional.” You complimented back, backing him look down bashfully, before speaking once more. 

“Hey, you didn’t seem to be in a group back there…would you like to join ours?”

 You paused for a moment, staring at him as if you were determining whether or not he was serious. “You don’t have to do that…I don’t want to…intrude.” 

He immediately shook his head. “No! I insist. Er…we insist.” He said, gesturing back at the group, who seemed immersed in their own conversation. You weren’t extremely convinced, but he was too cute for you to say no, and it didn’t seem smart to stay alone in a place like this.

“Well, if all of you insist, then I can.”

He smiled, holding a hand out to help you up(which you didn’t need, but gladly accepted anyway), as the two of you walked towards Gi-Hun’s group.

 “She agreed to join our group.” Dae-Ho informed them.

Young-Il smiled. “Perfect. I can assure that you’ll be in good hands.” He said, shaking your hand. Before you could respond, a booming voice came from over the intercom, informing that lights out will be in 30 minutes, which makes Gi-Hun perk up.

“We should make sure that we’re safe throughout the night.” 

 “What do you mean?” Jung-Bae asked.

“The last time I was here, fights broke out in the night and some people died. We should have at least one person keeping watch through the night.”

“Through the night?” Jung-Bae complained. 

“I mean, we could alternate…I could go first.” You suggested.

“Then…I’ll go too! It’s probably not the best for just one person to keep watch, right?”

 Young-Il nodded. “Good idea. I can go next.��� 

“If it’s not morning by then, I guess I’ll go afterwards…” Jung-Bae sighed. 

“Then it’s settled. We should move some of our beds to a safer spot, just in case.” Gi-Hun suggested, which lead to the six of you moving the mattresses under the bottom bed. 

“It seems a little bit claustrophobic…I guess it’s better than dying, right?” You murmured. 

Dae-Ho clasped a hand on your shoulder. “That’s the spirit.”

  After the voice over the intercom announced lights out, you and Dae-Ho moved to one of the beds further up, sitting at the end. 

“This is kind of boring…” You admitted. “Then again, I guess I don’t know what I was expecting.”

 boring…” You admitted. “But then again, what did I expect?”

Dae-Ho nodded. “I’m not too surprised. I had to do this from time to time back when I was a marine.”

“Did you ever fall asleep?”

 “I was strong enough to stay awake.”

“Let’s hope I can say the same…” The two of you stayed silent. “Why me anyway?”

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean…you could’ve just been like, ‘great, she helped us,’ then never talked to me again. So why put in the effort?”

“Well…I guess you intrigued me.”

 “I..intrigued you?”

“Well…not just because of your appearance, but…I guess you’re just so…quiet. I mean, we’ve only had two games, but you’ve never really paired up or talked with anyone till the last game.”

You shrugged. “It’s not that I don’t want to, they just don’t talk to me.”

“I’ll talk to you.”

You smile, not knowing what to say, instead leaning on his shoulder. 

“Not to ruin the mood, but…I don’t…want to die.” You admitted. 

“I don’t think any of us do.” Dae-Ho sighed, before turning to you. “How’d you end up here anyway?”

“Here as in Korea, or here as in…well, this?”

“Both.” 

 “Well…I originally came here for university, but then I decided to move here. My roommate kept getting caught up with loan sharks, so being the good roommate I was, I tried to help. Obviously, that didn’t work out.”

“That’s unfair. Why are you here and your roommate isn't?”

“She’s…dead.”

 His face fell. “Oh. I’m sorry–”

“Don’t worry about it. She wasn't the best person anyway.” You nestled further into his shoulder, yawning. “How much longer is our ‘shift?’”

“I’m not sure. You’re tired?”

You nodded against him. “Mhm.”

“Just go ahead. I’ll stay awake.” He insisted. 

 You temporarily pulled away, looking up at him. “Seriously?” 

He nodded. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it.” You smiled at him, mumbling a thanks as you leaned back onto his shoulder, falling asleep in what felt like seconds. It now seemed boring with you, he thought. 

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

The Thousand Yard Stare Chapter 4

Summary: Bucky Barnes has served his country well, and at a great personal cost.  After being rescued as a prisoner of war, he is struggling as he gets back into civilian life.  His newfound PTSD is severe.  His friends and family try to help, but he needs a lot more than they can give.  His mother signs him up for a Veteran recovery home, where he meets people struggling just like him, and the home director who has her own dark past to deal with.  He might just find love along the way as he searches for peace.

Warnings: mentions of physical assault, violence, being taken prisoner; sexual assault/r@pe; PTSD/anxiety/depression/panic attacks, flashbacks, nightmares; suicide/minor character death; eventual smut

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Y/N had already left before anyone had woken up the next morning.  Bucky found it odd, seeing as how she always greeted everyone and had breakfast ready, but this time they were left on their own to handle breakfast.  He felt like the house was colder than usual without her there.  He decided to text her:

Hope you have a fun day with your family.  See you later tonight.  Be safe.

She replied shortly after:

Thanks.  See you later.

He thought her response seemed clipped, but decided not to press her on it.  As he read the text Scott looked over.

“Why did you text her?” Scott asked, looking anxious.

“What?” Bucky asked.

“Ugh, I should have told you,” Scott groaned.  Everyone else at the table sighed as they ate breakfast.  

“What?” Bucky asked, more exasperated.  “What’s going on?”

“What did she tell you she was doing today?” Scott asked warily.

“Well, yesterday none of her family showed up and I asked her about it, and she said she’d see them today,” Bucky said, feeling overwhelmed with everyone’s attention on him.

Scott rubbed his face and Wanda hummed.  “She’s seeing them at the cemetery,” she said quietly.  Bucky looked at her confused.  Her head tilted and she sighed again.  “Every year, the day after Thanksgiving, Y/N goes to the cemetery and spends the day alone.  She has no family.  They’re all dead.  Her mom was her last living relative and she died just as Y/N was rescued from Baghdad.”

Bucky’s mouth dropped open and his eyes widened as he took in this new information.  He felt like throwing up.  He felt so stupid.  Why didn’t she say anything, or correct him when he asked about her family?

“She doesn’t like to talk about it,” Scott piped up, seeing the question in Bucky’s eyes.  “This home, and anyone she helps in it, is her family.  That’s why it’s her whole life.  We are her soul focus,” he said sadly.  “She’ll most likely have a nightmare tonight, or this weekend.  A loud one,” he added.  “She always does after today.  We should probably figure out who’s going to help her this time.”

“Help her?”  Bucky asked.

“Like she helps you with your nightmares,” Pietro spoke up.  

“I can do it,” Bruce volunteered quietly.  

“You did it last time Bruce, and she nearly knocked you out, don’t stress yourself,” Wanda interjected.  “I can do it.”

After a few back and forth comments Bucky spoke loudly.  “I’ll do it,” he volunteered.  They all looked at him.  “I’m closest to her room, I’ll hear her first.  And she’ll be with me in the comfy room later tonight anyway.  I’ll do it.”

Wanda’s eyes narrowed at him.  “It takes her a while to snap out of it,” she warned.  “She’ll fight you.  Especially because you’re a man holding her down.  She won’t recognize you at first.”

“I know,” Bucky said, remembering the few times she had helped him and he wasn’t fully coherent.  “But I can do it.  I’ve got her.”

Everyone nodded, the breakfast now tainted with a somber mood.

***

A few hours later as Bucky was finishing up helping Scott rake the leaves outside he went inside to shower.  As he rummaged through his jacket pocket for his phone he pulled it out and saw he had a voicemail from Y/N left an hour ago.  He quickly opened it as he sat on his bed and hit play.

“--but everything’s going good, Mama.  We just got a new guy at the home a few months ago.”

It took Bucky a moment to realize that she wasn’t speaking to him.  She had accidentally called him and left him a message, probably after answering his text earlier.

“His name is Bucky.  He’s a real sweetheart.”  She paused.  “He’s gone through the worst thing imaginable, like me.  But he’s doing really well.  Soon enough I feel like he’ll be able to go home, and he won’t need me anymore.”  She sniffled.  “The problem is…I feel like I’m falling in love with him.”

Bucky gaped at his phone, nearly dropping it as she spoke.

“And I shouldn’t be.  I know it’s not appropriate.  He’s there for help, not for me to be lusting after him.  That’s the last thing he needs.”  She paused again.  “You’d like him, Mama.  Funny, kind, headstrong, kinda quiet, he’s got a great laugh when he actually fully laughs.  And easy on the eyes, as you’d say,” she snickered.  “I don’t know.  Maybe someday, after he’s left or something.  It’s nice to just get it off my chest though.”  She started crying, her sniffles getting louder and a choked whimper coming out.  “I miss you so much Ma–”

The voicemail ended.  Bucky sat silently, his brain not fully processing what he just heard.  She liked him back.  Was “falling in love” with him.  The looks he’d seen and the more personal, tender touches weren’t his mind tricking him.  He felt elated and also uneasy.  Requited love was thrumming through his mind, and yet he’d found out this information unintentionally.  She hadn’t meant for him to find out.  Would she have ever said anything?  Would she have ever told him, even after he left the home when he was mostly recovered?  He felt like the answer would be no.  

Bucky was in a funk for the rest of the day, unsure of what to do or how to go about it.  Should he talk to her?  Or just ignore it and let her come to him when she was ready?  What if she never did out of some sense of it being inappropriate or unethical?  Later that night he was still stewing over it as he sat in the comfy building, holding his phone and listening to her voicemail over and over as he waited for her to come in for their session.

He quickly shut his phone off when he heard footsteps coming from outside.  Y/N walked in looking tired as she shut the door behind her and turned to see him on the couch.  “Oh, hey Buck, you’re here already,” she said quietly, giving him a small smile.

“Yep,” Bucky said just as quietly.  

“Well, shall we?” she asked, gesturing to the walled off room.  Bucky nodded and followed her into the room.  She closed the door and sat herself on the couch as he sat on the bed across from her.  “So last week I feel like we made some good progress in trigger points on the body.  Is there anywhere else that you feel like is holding tension in your body anytime we have done these sessions?” she asked as she rummaged through her things and pulled out a notebook.

“I do, but um,” Bucky hesitated.  He wasn’t sure what to say as his hands wrung in front of him.  “It’s in a place that’s not exactly, uh…” he paused, watching her.

“I can’t help you with anything below the belt, Buck,” Y/N laughed as she opened her notebook.  “Though I can give you some resources for sex therapists that could help you with that.”

“No, I mean yes, but no,” Bucky blushed.  “It’s um…it’s my head?”

“You’re head?” Y/N looked confused.  

He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair.  He decided to just address it now.  Maybe if he got it out in the open now they could work through it, for better or worse.  “I found something out today I wasn’t supposed to.”

“Do you want to tell me?” Y/N asked curiously.

Bucky gulped.  “Well, first of all, you lied to me last night.”  Y/N’s eyes minutely widened, her body freezing.  “You said you were seeing your family today.  You forgot to mention that they’re all gone,” Bucky said, trying to be gentle rather than accusatory.  Y/N stared at him, an unreadable expression on her face.  “Scott told me,” he said.

Y/N closed her eyes as she sighed heavily.  “I’m sorry.  I should have told you, I just didn’t want to put a damper on your day with your family,” she said.  

“You wouldn’t have,” Bucky said, leaning forward.  “As much as you’re helping me, I’d like to think that we’re at least friends at this point, Y/N.  You can tell me things, too,” he offered. 

Y/N opened her eyes and looked at him, her eyes now shining with unshed tears.  “Thank you,” she whispered.  

Bucky held a hand out to her and she reached forward taking it with one of hers.   “C’mere,” he said, pulling her hand toward him.  Y/N laughed a little then stood from the couch and walked up to him.  He moved back on the bed to lay down and pulled her next to him.  She was usually the one to hold him against her when they had cuddle sessions, but this time he was the one holding her, tucking her head into his chest.  

“I’m supposed to be cuddling you, sir,” Y/N laughed again, wiping her eyes.

“This is my cuddle session to do with as I please, ma’am,” Bucky scoffed at her, running his fingers through a part of her hair.  

Y/N giggled and nuzzled into his chest, her hands fisting into his sweater.  They lay together for a while, neither of them wanting to interrupt the quiet.  Bucky wanted to bring up the voicemail, but decided it would have to wait for another day.  She just needed comfort, a friend, and he was more than willing to be that for her.  The rest could wait.

***

Bucky awoke to the sound of whimpering, his chest being hit by something.  He moved away from the offending thing hitting him and tried to adjust his eyes to the darkened room.  He looked down to see Y/N squirming on the bed next to him.  They had fallen asleep in the cuddle room.  As he started to try to sit up Y/N stiffened.  Bucky watched her body go rigid, her hands grasping the blankets beneath her.  Her head wrenched back and she suddenly screamed.

The scream was unearthly and Bucky backed up again.  His eyes were comically wide as she twitched, the scream dying in her throat before she took another deep breath and screamed again.  He jumped into action, desperately wanting that awful noise to stop.

“Y/N!  Hey, wake up,” he said loudly, sitting up on his knees and hovering over her.  His hands gently shook her shoulders but she just tried twisting away from him.  “Y/N!” he yelled this time, more firmly shaking her.  Another scream reverberated through the room and he cringed.  Tears were streaming down her face and she cried loudly.

“NO!” she yelled.  

Bucky started tapping her cheek.  “It’s not happening to you now, sweetheart, come on!  It’s just a bad memory.  Come back!” he yelled, trying to speak into her ear more.  He gave her cheek one harder slap and her eyes flew open.  “Y/N?” he asked tentatively.

Y/N’s eyes turned to him in fear and she pushed against him.  She was surprisingly strong and sent him flying into the wall next to the bed.  “No!” she yelled again, scrambling away from him.

“Y/N, it’s me!” Bucky said, quickly collecting himself.  He moved toward her on the bed.  In her panic she wasn’t able to focus on getting her limbs to do what she wanted so she fell off the bed to the floor and started crawling away from him toward the corner of the room.  Bucky jumped off the bed and tried to help her up but she wrenched her body away.  “Y/N, come on…ugh!” Bucky yelped as she kicked his leg out from underneath him.  He fell on top of her, which made her scream harder.  He used the position to keep her from hitting him as he turned her to face him.  He gripped her hands with one hand and held them on her chest while the other kept himself upright.  Y/N was thrashing against him, trying to get away.  “Y/N!  LOOK AT ME!” he bellowed.

Y/N finally stopped and stared up at him, breathing heavily.  Her eyes flickered across his face, recognition slowly showing on her face.  “Come back to me, sweetheart,” Bucky breathed, staring into her eyes.  “It’s just me, Bucky, okay?  You were having a nightmare,” he slowly released her hands.  “It’s just a bad memory.  That’s what you always tell me, right?  It’s not happening to you now.  You’re here, at home.  You’re safe,” he stroked her cheek with his fingers.  She blinked rapidly at his touch and released a sharp breath.  

“Bucky,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” Bucky smiled.  “Come on, let’s get you off the floor.”  He slowly pulled himself off of her and pulled her up by her arms.  Y/N let him guide her and then stood in front of him like she was zoned out, her eyes looking around as she was still grounding herself.  Bucky leaned down to her eye level and cupped her face, making her look at him.  “Hey,” he said lowly.  Her eyes found him again.  “Hey you,” he smiled.  “It’s just you and me, right here, right now.  I’ve got you,” he said, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.  Y/N sagged in his hold, her hands reaching up and grasping his wrists.  “I’ve got you,” he repeated, leaning his forehead against hers.

Next thing he knew she was kissing him.  He froze, his mind short circuiting for a split second, then he closed his eyes and kissed her back.  At first it was soft, neither of them moving.  Bucky pulled away and looked for any hesitation in her face, but only saw a deep desire looking back at him.  He dove back in and kissed her hard, pulling a moan from her.  Y/N’s arms moved to wrap around his neck, kissing him passionately, running her fingers through his hair just how he liked during their cuddle sessions.  

Bucky moved his hands from her face down to her lower back, wrapping his arms around and holding her to him.  Y/N’s nails scratched his scalp, making him shiver against her.  He started moving them back towards the bed, acting on instinct that he thought long lost as he maneuvered her onto the bed until he was hovering over her.  Y/N’s mouth opened and her tongue licked along his lower lip, and he happily reciprocated by tasting her back.  She moaned again, her hands now gripping his shoulders for support.

Bucky’s hands were slowly running down her sides to her hips, his right hand kneading her left thigh as he brought it up around his hip.  His other hand was tickling along her stomach then his fingers went under the hem of her shirt, skimming along her skin.  A small part of his brain was yelling at him to think this through, that she hadn’t confessed her feelings to him yet, that she had just woken up from a nightmare that was a huge emotional toll, what this would mean for them later, but it all felt too good.  Her perfect hands on his face, in his hair, her plushy skin under his fingers, the way her tongue felt on him, the sweet noises she made.  As her nails scratched down his chest he moaned into her mouth.

Y/N stilled, her fingers freezing and then pushing against his chest.  He pulled away panting as he looked at her questioningly.  Y/N looked at him in shock, looking down between them and then gasping.  She pushed him away, making him flop onto the bed next to her and quickly stood up, gathering her things.

“I’m sorry Bucky,” she said, adjusting her clothes.

“What?  Hold on,” Bucky stood, reaching for her arm which she quickly dodged.  “What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N repeated, moving towards the door.  “That was wrong.  I apologize.”

“Y/N wait,” Bucky said, blocking her way to the door.  “Talk to me, hey,” he reached out and held her arms.  

“We can’t do this, Buck,” Y/N said, shutting her eyes tight.  

“Why not?” Bucky asked, squeezing her arms.

“I’m supposed to be helping you, not dating you,” Y/N answered, keeping her head turned toward the floor.  “Thank you for helping me get out of that nightmare.  I’m sorry for my emotional response.”

“I kissed you, too,” Bucky said, cupping her face again and bringing her face up.  “Look at me, sweetheart.”

Y/N’s eyes flew open at the pet name but she shook her head.  “Don’t call me that,” she said, trying to move away.

“Y/N please!” Bucky raised his voice.  “I wanted that, too.  I kissed you back.  I want you.  I got a voicemail from you earlier today.”  Y/N’s brow furrowed in confusion.  “It was you talking to what I’m assuming was your mom’s grave,” he continued.  Her eyes widened.  “You said you were falling in love with me,” Bucky said.  “And I’ve been falling for you for a while now.”

Y/N shook her head again.  “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it does,” Bucky said imploringly.  “How could you say that?”

“I can’t have you,” Y/N sniffed, some tears starting to form in her eyes again.  “Not now.  Not like this, when you’re in my care–”

“You’re not my therapist,” Bucky cut in.  “Having a relationship with you is not unethical or a breach of trust or conduct.  I want this,” he leaned in and kissed her forehead.  “I want you,” he said, kissing down her face, making her sigh.  “All I want is you,” he breathed, his lips grazing her lips.

Y/N whimpered as he gave her lips a short kiss, but she quickly took another step back.  “Bucky, please understand–”

“I’ll wait,” Bucky interrupted.  Y/N froze.  “I can wait until my time here is done.  Once you and Dr. Strange feel like I’m healed well enough to leave, then we can do this,” he gestured between the two of them.  “Please don’t push me away.”

Y/N huffed a sharp breath, her eyes flickering between his.  She was contemplating, and he didn’t dare let go of her as she thought it through.

“What if your recovery takes a long time?” she asked.  “You can’t rush yourself through recovery for the sake of a possible relationship afterwards.  You have to do this right–”

“I will,” Bucky promised.  

“Can you honestly wait that long?” Y/N asked.  “And when it is done how will you…your family lives a few hours away, your whole life is there.  How would this even work?”

“We can figure all that out when the time comes,” Bucky said, his hands slipping down to her shoulders.  

She stared at him for another minute.  “I don’t…I don’t know,” she shook her head, looking down.

“Think about it,” Bucky said quietly, massaging her shoulders.  “Either way, I’ll wait for you.”  He lifted her chin with his fingers and leaned in, kissing her deeply one last time.  “Just remember, you’re all I want sweetheart.  And I’ve got you.  No matter what you choose.”  He gave her a sad smile, pulled his hands away then walked out of the room and back towards the house.  He didn’t know what would happen from here, but hoped for the best.

@wintrsoldrluvr @isitbiorisitlesbian @starfly-nicole @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @buckys-arm-and-rios-dagger @idontknowhowtonormal

[babyjinsu]

[r/situationships] i don't know where i stand with this girl.

PAIRING ⟢ sohee lee x fem!reader

GENRE ⟢ reddit au, social media au, friends(?) to lovers, fluff, crack, written

SYNOPSIS ⟢ a confused boy wants to know if it is still 'just friends' if you do non-friends things with a supposedly "only friend" on r/situationships.

FEATURING ⟢ wonbin, seunghan, & anton of riize and yuna of itzy

CHAPTERS ⟢002 003

💭 one of my favourite trope :( clueless boy.. i can't think of any other member besides sohee for this!! my ddori.. <3 pls enjoy n lmk ur thoughts! xoxo

[r/situationships] i don't know where i stand with this girl. posted by u/ddori • 7h ago

hey everyone. this will sound kinda embarrassing but i (21M), hv been talking to this girl (21F) from my finance class for a while now (like 4 months..?), and honestly, i hv nooo idea what we are. i know for sure we're definitely more than friends, at least to me, thats how it feels like.

we met through a mutual friend, and from there we kinda just go with the flow. we hold hands sometimes, she lets me stay over her place (just sleeping, nothing else, but on the same bed or couch), and she invites me to go places with her-- sometimes doing nothing at all, we just spend a lot of time together. ive nvr had this kind of closeness with someone of the opposite gender and still are just friends... we've nvr had a real convo abt what we're doing (to each other).

as far as i know, and from her friends, shes not seeing anyone else, or treats anyone the way she does to me. and im definitely not seeing anyone either. (i want her so bad)

its messing with my head because i really really like this girl. i want to believe that she likes me too, with how shes treating me but i dont know if she just sees me as a really close friend, or if shes waiting for me to make a move. i dont think shes playing with my feelings or whatnot. hopefully.

ive heard plenty of things about this phenomenon called "situationship" and by the looks (and sound) of it, ITS HORRIBLE. this girl is really nice and the people she surround herself with are really amazing, and ik that they always call their friends out on mistakes. so i'm pretty sure she's not that type of girl.

but still, is this what they call a situationship? is this how it feels like to be in one? is it called so because youre in a situation?? i feel so stuck and i dont know where i stand in her life. what do i do?

Top Comments:

[u/financiallybroke] bro if you're confused, you're in a situationship. it's plain and simple. sounds like she enjoys your company with how she includes you in her daily life but without a real conversation, you're just guessing where you stand in each others' lives.

[u/ddori OP replying to u/financiallybroke] damn,, i don't like the whole idea or concept of situationship :/ it's ridiculous n just cruel tbh?

[u/illfated] there are two takes on this. either youre in a situationship, or shes waiting for you to bring it up. if she wanted you to be her boyfriend, she would either say it or drop hints. itll be better for you to ask IMO. stop wasting time op!

[u/mahjongpro99] been there n got my heart broken. learned it the hard way that if they wanted to make it official, you'll know. moreover, you guys have mutual friends, they'd AT LEAST know if she's into you.

[u/ddori OP replying to u/mahjongpro99] hhh one time they teased and asked if we we're dating, and neither she or i denied. we just laughed along, and she even joked and asked if i want to-- to which i just replied with another laugh because surely shes just joking?

[u/honeymaiden] i was in her shoes and i kept waiting and waiting, and hoping he'd say something or even asked about us. i wanted the guy to confess first, actually telling me that he likes me instead of flirting like we were doing, but he never did so we stayed in limbo until things died down. don't let that happen to either of you, just be honest op. she might like u too, and if not, at least yk better.

[u/L_user] my 'ex' treated me exactly like this. we even did IT, celebrated valentines and dinner dates, did everything like couples did, but when i finally brought it up, she hit me with "oh, i thought we're just really close friends!" like the fuck lmfao. if you dont want to end up feeling like a clown, or embarrass yourself any further, ask her before you get even more attached.

[u/cgpa40 replying to u/L_user] second this. don't invest too much time and effort without knowing ur returns. u deserve clarity op.

[u/ddori OP replying to u/cgpa40] thanks guys. ill try bringing it up when i see her. sorry that happened to u though!

[u/tapiocapearl] hi OP. i'm a girl and this sounds like something girls do when they have a crush on someone, but is too scared to make the first actual move (besides including you in her activities). sometimes we need reassurance, like a proper green light that you like LIKE us.

[u/ddori OP replying to u/tapiocapearl] thanks! feels nice to read another comment from another girl. will be meeting her soon so ill try asking.

[u/tapiocapearl replying to u/ddori OP] yeah! show her you want her seriously as a romantic partner, relationship wise and she'll probably meet you halfway. best of luck, lmk if i got it right or not!

💭 just realised (as i was doing the final proofread) that the comments section is longer than the story itself smiley faceee...

[twistedminutia]

Hiiii I’m a big fan of your writing!! A million and one minutia is so fantastic and fun!! You do such a good job of writing all the characters- they really feel like full complex people who are having their own experiences and thoughts throughout the scenes! And I really love how you write Malleus! I feel like you do a great job of capturing his other-worldliness and how he could seem so intimidating/unapproachable, while still writing him as someone who has his own thoughts and feelings and just has a very different approach to the world than Gray!

You mentioned that people can submit ideas via your tumblr? I hope this is not overstepping (if it is then please just ignore this part!!!) I was wondering if you had any thoughts on amusement activities in Twisted Wonderland vs earth- like do they have roller coasters, do they have crazy magic-powered entertainment experiences, etc. And I’m also curious about how the twisted wonderland folks would feel about amusement parks we have- either ones like Disney that ‘capture the magic’ with their attractions, or our thrill rides, or the older, buck wild attractions of Coney Island and the like. Anyways, I love your work! I hope you keep having fun with it!!

Wow, thank you! That's a really amazing compliment. I always strive to make my characters feel like real people- especially because I think one of Twst's strong suits is making characters pretty complex and varied. I do try to write by thinking about what every character is thinking in a scene and how their personalities bounce off each other- which might be why I struggle balancing scenes with a lot of characters.

Malleus, to me is a character who is best written when he is written as a person who's pretty strange with no understanding that he is strange and a complete confidence that he is perfectly sensible and everyone else is just weird. He's stoic and reserved, and he's very intelligent, but lacks common sense and experience, so he tends to be just slightly out of step with everyone else. He's a good person at heart, but he struggles to stay in tune with most other people around him. I find him very endearing as a character because he both seems to struggle with loneliness and struggle with reaching out, which is something I have trouble with as well.

As for the second part of your ask... Hm. I don't know if I'd ever want to do a chapter on this, if only because I feel like a lot of the thoughts about amusement parks in Twisted Wonderland got answered by the Playful Land event. (Also because I can't think of a premise for Gray and her friends to be going to an amusement part during the school year... maybe a school trip, I guess?) Anyway, in Playful Land, it was confirmed that they do have roller coasters (and I think Ace confirmed he'd been on one before) and they have some magical attractions, like the undersea attraction Leona, Jack, and Kalim go to. There does seem to be some limits on how extensive the attractions tend to get, though- Leona comments on how impressive and lifelike the fish are.

Personally, I think larger and more extensive amusement parks would probably have at least a couple immersive magic experiences- either things like the undersea attraction, where you're able to step into a new, immersive location, or maybe something where magic powers a ride- maybe you can fly within a restricted area or something along those lines. Smaller amusement parks might not have the same thing, depending on how much effort it takes to make the attractions.

I think our NRC students would probably think our amusement parks are pretty cool- I'd imagine they have some of their own there as well. They might be safer in Twisted Wonderland, since magic might be incorporated into the ride as a precaution, so they might think the level of accidents we have on those rides is a bit scary! But I think the parks they'd like would depend on their personality. Ace, for example, probably really likes thrill rides. Trey might prefer something a little more sedate. I think Sebek would either really love roller coasters or really hate them. I think Riddle might like a carousel for some reason? I just think it would suit him. Silver too, though he might fall asleep. For some reason, I think Malleus would like ferris wheels? I think he'd find them interesting, and would like looking out over the world. Floyd probably LOVES thrill rides. Azul, on the other hand, would probably hate them (I don't think he'd like amusement parks that much... he doesn't seem like a ride guy to me, and he wouldn't like the food, and he'd probably immediately catch on to the fact that all the games are rigged. The most fun he'd have would be examining business practices and trying to set up the games at the Mostro Lounge.)

[hylialeia]

city of qarth ☕

really love the aesthetic of opulence and wealth and indulgence undercut by the constant presence of rotting zombie-like warlocks that the city seemingly ignores and tolerates via some bizarre, dream-like logic. love that that logic seems to permeate the entirety of Dany's time in Qarth as everything around her becomes more and more unnatural, almost hallucinogenic. love the descriptions of jewels and architecture and fine living always feeling untouchable and distant regardless of proximity, the whole illusion devolving into nightmarish absurdity that despite its ridiculousness feels deeply, deeply terrifying.

[randomtheidiot]

Shoutout to Rebecca Colton from Amanda The Adventurer for being a murder victim in a mascot horror game that’s actually a character with a personality, thoughts and feelings.

[fourspiceblend]

It's funny cause for the most part of the game, I didn't really care about people's criticisms of Engage's writing and thought they were just mad the story was straightforward and didn't try to be overly complex... But now that I'm (finally) reaching the endgame, there's a loooot of weird plotholes that 3H would be jealous of lol.

[chixiedee]

i miss Girl..... she was SMILING today and it was BRILLIANT and i wish I got to make her smile but no....

[prlssprfctn]

Jason, being a semi-canonic common hallucination in the family after his death, could lead to the stupidest AU ever.

Imagine everyone seeing him — Bruce, half of the time, Dick non-stop, Tim more often than not, and eventually even Alfred starts seeing little boy's silhouette in the corner of his eye, but he never admits it, because someone needs to stay sane in this family.

It is a lot like real-life cases when cult families start to see collective hallucination, and it somehow syncronises in their minds, so they hear and see the same things, you know?

So, yeah, everyone sees Jaybin around.

Everyone but Damian. Damian is a normal one. He also knows his Akhi is alive and well, so whatever. And it takes him some time to figure out that his family is bat-shit insane, but when he does, he decides to use it on his advantage.

Damian, calling Jason: Akhi, you should visit me. It is getting awfully boring here.

Jason, frowning: You know I can't. They think I am dead, and I can't risk my plan, especially now, when Red Hood is gaining-

Damian: We will pretend you are a hallucination.

Jason: ...What?

Damian: So, there is a plan...

So, a few days after this call, Jason arrives at the Wayne Manor. He still thinks his brother's plan sucks, but gaslighting is one of his many talents, so surely, they will figure something out. He can lie his way through this meeting.

Expect, he doesn't even need to lie. His family is actually insane.

Bruce, bumping in Jason:

Jason, staring back: Uh-

Bruce: Wow. You look so grown-up. And we look so alike. Nice one, brain.

Jason: ?..

Tim, leaving his room: Hi, B, hi- Oh, damn. Hi, Jaybin. Nice leather jacket.

Bruce: Right? I guess his ghost just grows up with us now.

Jason: ????

Alfred, nodding along, out of nowhere: Master Dick will hate it. He looks taller now.

All of them: (peacefully leave the room)

Jason: What. The. Fuck.

Jason waits for the moment of clarity to happen as he chats with Damian in the kitchen, but... nothing changes. They really, really think he is a hallucination. So... he starts hanging out around more. Both because Damian is getting angsty, and because it is kinda... amusing.

Tim, stuck on the same case for a few nights, non-stop: Oh, it is really just me and you in this, Jason.

Jason, playing Mario Cart on the table by his side: Maybe take a nap, dude.

Tim: No, I need to figure out this case with-

Jason, rolling his eyes: Red Hood had already dealt with it. Go to sleep.

Tim: ...You are such a good self-care kind of hallucination.

Jason: ...

Damian: Your bets, when will they realise that you are a real person?

Jason: At this point, I am not sure that they will, even if I start screaming that I am real.

Damian: Fair. I bet a year would do.

Jason: ...A year and a half.

Dick visits the Manor. He cooes at Jason, muttering something about "of course, he would have grown up in a punk," and Jason almost breaks his role to hit him on the head.

Jason, arms folded on his chest: You know, you need serious help, dad.

Bruce, blinking at him slowly: Probably. You know what else I need?

Jason: Sleep? Retirement? To stop adopting strays? The list is endless, man.

Bruce: ...Coffee. I need more coffee.

Jason, groaning: What the fuck!!!

Alfred figures out that Jason is real, eventually. Solely because he catches him sneaking a few extra cookies, and hallucinations are not supposed to eat. He plays along with him and Damian until the very end, anyway.

(Damian ends up winning the bet because Jason loses it once and pushes Bruce down the stairs, when he starts reciting some precautionary tale about him. Everyone is flabbergasted.)

[ceramicbeetle]

have been thinking about Until Dawn again -- do we ever like, fully understand what Josh had planned for Matt and Emily? Like, did he steal/hide her bag or something to get them out into the woods? Or was that just some kind of coincidence that played out like he hoped it would?

[babycharmander]

(BOOK OF BILL SPOILERS)

I just finished reading The Book of Bill and I am kindof losing my mind over some of this stuff.

I had wondered if Alex Hirsch might make Bill sympathetic in some way and oh boy I was not expecting him to do it so successfully (and without cheapening Bill's character).

So, we learn that Bill was born into a 2D world... as a mutant who can see into the third dimension. He claims he was absolutely loved by all, but when talking about his powers, he mentions under Pyrokinesis:

"Cipher, Cipher, he's insane / Starting fires with his brain." The kids in grade school could be so cruel. But where are they now, huh? WHERE ARE THEY NOW?

So probably not quite as liked as he was letting on. To add to that, there's the silly straw page, which looks like silly nonsense until you decipher some of the codes:

"EYE DOCTOR OF A DIFFERENT KIND / WHO WANTS TO MAKE HIS PATIENTS BLIND" "THE DOCTOR SAYS / THREE SIPS A DAY / WILL MAKE THE VISIONS / GO AWAY"

I wasn't sure what this meant until I saw someone point out... he was seeing a third dimension that no one else could see. His parents probably took him to the eye doctor to try to "fix" him. Which, speaking of his eye doctor, the coded message in the section about human eyeballs says something interesting:

"MY OPTOMETRIST NEVER SAW IT COMING"

It could be a joke given beforehand he's talking about dissecting a human eye, but given the previous hints of medical abuse, I wouldn't put it past him that he tried to get revenge on his eye doctor.

Oh yeah and the whole thing about him setting his entire dimension on fire? Yeah it turns out it was entirely a mistake (he just wanted everyone to understand the third dimension he was seeing so they could be free of only two dimensions), he was so traumatized by it he blacks out when trying to recall it. He deeply, deeply regrets it, and...

"What? Your ENTIRE home dimension? destroyed? How? By what?" Bill looked distant, more distant than I'd ever seen him. "By a monster."

He sees himself as a monster.

And yet, he's not some innocent, misunderstood being. He still revels in causing pain and chaos. He's terrible in general, but becomes incredibly abusive toward Ford.

"YOU'RE MY PROPERTY. DON'T FORGET IT. The hillbilly abandoned you, your father won't want you returning without millions, you have no friends, and if you died out here in the snow, who would even miss you?"

Which... speaking of him and Ford...

Yes, yes, I know people ship them. But like, whether you see their relationship as romantic or platonic (I see it as the latter), there's some interesting parallels to be made here.

Both Bill and Ford are mutants who were mocked for their being different. (Bill was not physically a mutant, as far as we know, but more in the sense of him having vision stronger than that of everyone else in his dimension, and also having special powers. And he does describe himself as a mutant.) Both became social outcasts, separated from their families but still haunted by them (Ford seeing commercials of Stan on TV and running across old photos of him and his brother, Bill being haunted by his family in some form). Neither could return home for one reason or another. Both more powerful than their peers (Ford intellectually, Bill in terms of actual powers). Both of them isolated and alone. (Yes, Bill does have the Henchmaniacs, but they seem like shallow friends, and only really seem to follow him out of a desire to have a place to party.)

Ford was not aware of most of this, aside from knowing that Bill could not go home because his dimension was destroyed. But Bill absolutely saw himself in Ford. There was no other person he tried to use whom he felt a stronger connection to.

And he actually seems to care about Ford--he actually gave him a birthday present, and when Ford didn't like it, he decided to get drunk and party with him instead to make up for it.

And then when Ford realizes what Bill's plan actually is and refuses to go along with it, and fights back no matter what Bill does, Bill completely breaks down.

After living for trillions of years, he met someone who was like him, and that person rejected him.

He goes berserk, wreaking havoc, being caught by the dimensional authority that he's been taunting for most of his life.

And then after dying and being cast out of hell for being too annoying, he winds up faced with the Axolotl, who sends him to therapy, where he continues to break down further, sending out the book in a desperate attempt to find someone, anyone who will help him break loose and wreak havoc once again.

"You have no friends, and if you died ... who would even miss you?"

I don't know, Bill. Who would even miss you?

In short,

[ID: The front and back of one of Bill's Valentines cards. On the front is a black void with Bill Cipher lying down without his hat, gazing blankly upwards, with the text "I DON'T WANT TO DIE ALONE" above him. On the back is a simple white "TO/FROM" in red, with a red outline illustration of Bill spontaneously growing a mouth and eating a realistic, bloody heart. /end ID]

[rafey-baby]

rafe has always been close with his sister…  

c/w: incest, dubcon, oral (m receiving), rafe being a perv about his (adopted) sister & her being inexperienced, 18+ mdni!

wc: 1.7k

part two & moodboard

if this is something u don’t like, scroll & read something else xx   

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Her big brother has always been rather overbearing, which is something she’s tried to shrug off as him merely being protective, but as far as her understanding of siblings goes— they aren’t supposed to act the way Rafe does.  

Ever since they were little, Rafe has been weird about everyone in their strange family, but sometimes it makes her feel gross when he barges into her room while she’s changing— not even bothering to cover his eyes as he sits down on her mattress and starts ranting about something completely irrelevant.

It makes her feel disgusting when she notices the subtle smirk tugging at his mouth as his gaze narrows down onto whatever bare sliver of skin she’s hurriedly trying to hide from his borderline hungry eyes.   

And she doesn’t particularly enjoy when he gets wasted or high off of whatever he’s snorted at some stupid party and insists that he just has to sleep next to her because he’s not feeling good. And despite her drowsy complaints, he’s always snuggling too close for comfort with his hands all over her; pulling her flush against him and letting the cushion of his lips graze the skin of her neck.

He keeps telling her that it’s nothing out of the ordinary when he gives her details about the girls he’s slept with and what his favorite positions are, even if she’s told him multiple times that she doesn’t want to know. And whenever they’re home alone, he even goes as far as bringing girls to his room— making sure their loud moans echo right into her bedroom when he knows she’s trying to study.   

And whenever he’s tagging along during her little shopping trips (he doesn’t let her go alone because what if something happens?), he always demands on joining her in the fitting rooms— even squeezing himself into the crammed space when she’s trying on lingerie, claiming that she absolutely needs his opinion.   

“Rafe, that’s weird,” she tries to get him to wait outside but of course he merely rolls his eyes.  

“S’not weird, know how indecisive you can be, jus’ wanna help,” he says, seemingly genuine while he’s already fiddling with the clip of her bra.   

And she feels her cheeks burning when the cashier mentions how sweet it is that her boyfriend is paying for her clothes— to which Rafe merely chuckles while she can’t find the words to correct the poor woman because she’d probably faint if she learned the truth about their relationship.

More often than not, he tends to be borderline territorial. One time, she’s simply talking to a guy at some party, when all of a sudden, she feels an all too familiar presence behind her.

“Who’s this, hm?” he slurs, slinging a heavy arm over her shoulder.   

“Oh, it’s…um, no one,” she peeps out because she knows how he is. However, her attempts at calming him down prove to be fruitless because he’s already approaching the guy with a scoff.   

“You, uh, you do know that this is m’sister, right? Mine. So, why don’t you, uh, go ‘n try to impress some other bitch, yeah?” he offers him a sickly-sweet smile, voice harsh before telling her they’re leaving— strong hands on her waist already dragging her towards his truck.

“I was having fun,” she complains when he’s putting the seatbelt on her— his breath smelling of beer when he drawls out a reply. “You can have all the fun you want with me when we get home, yeah?”   

“But I wanted to spend time with my friends,” she pouts.   

“That’s just too bad then, isn’t it?” he murmurs while starting the engine— resting a warm palm on her thigh soon after, ignoring her efforts of shrugging it off.  

- - - - - - - - - - -

When he learns that she hasn’t had her first kiss yet (because why would anyone even think about touching her when they know Rafe is a complete psycho), he mocks her to the point of her eyes growing glossy as she tries to blink away the soggy droplets.

“S’okay, you wanna get it over with, hm? I’ll help you,” he so kindly offers with faux concern glimmering in the moonstones of his eyes.   

“Rafe, that’s gross,” she frowns, to which he merely furrows his brows before scoffing— as if she’s the one being weird.   

“So, uh, so you tellin’ me you want some…some stranger at a party who only wants to get in your pants to do it instead?” he narrows his eyes as if that’s the only alternative.  

“N— no,” her answer is hesitant.  

“Listen, m’just…m’just, tryna be a good brother ‘n help my little sister out, but if you don’t want m’help then don’t come cryin’ to me when you embarrass yourself cause you don’t even know how to kiss,” he lifts his hands up in surrender before shrugging, suggesting that he’d merely be doing her a favor.   

And before her brain has the time to process what’s happening, he’s already dragging her into his lap. And it feels wrong when their mouths are suddenly slotting together— when he’s letting out a shallow groan and slipping his tongue past her teeth without so much as a warning.

“Rafe! You didn’t tell me you were gonna do that,” she squeaks out, pulling away with her face all crumpled up, feeling disconcerted.   

“Shut up, you’re gonna wake up everyone, thought you wanted to learn?” he mutters out before he’s smearing his mouth on hers once more— this time with a tight grip on her jaw that forces her to stay put as the the kiss turns into something sloppy; wet.

And afterwards, he makes her promise that she won’t tell anyone because ‘you don’t want dad to get mad at you, do you?’ and even if she feels guilt eat away at her, she keeps it to herself because the last thing she wants is to upset anyone. 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

“Rafe guess what? I have a date tomorrow,” she gives him a giddy smile while stepping into his room a few weeks later.  

“With who?” he eyes her while slouching on his bed, seemingly in the midst of texting someone.

“This guy I met on the beach today,” she sits down on the edge of the mattress when he places his phone on his nightstand.

“Yeah? What’s his name?” he asks, shifting closer.  

“Um, Ethan.” 

“Last name?”  

“I— I don’t know, didn’t ask…why does it matter? Was just wondering if you could drive me there?” she says, surprised by his sudden interest. 

“Where?” his tone sounds almost exasperated now, as if she’s done something bad.

“Um, we’re just gonna hang out at his house,” she chews on her bottom lip, suddenly nervous.

“You havin’ a date at his house? You finally gonna lose that virginity, huh?” he asks as patronizing laughter bubbles from his chest.

“What? No! S’not like that,” she mumbles, her skin already boiling. 

“No? You do know when guys say they wanna hang out, it means they wanna fuck, right? You’re not that stupid, are you?” his gaze is borderline condescending when he raises his brows.

“Well, he’s not like that, he seems nice,” she tries to defend herself, feeling small all of a sudden.

“Sweetheart, every guy’s like that, especially the ones that seem nice, you’re so fuckin’ naive,” he scoffs while running a hand through his hair.

“You know what? Forget about it, I’ll just walk there,” she huffs out, standing up to leave, however, she doesn’t get far before he’s grabbing at her arm.

“Listen, m’just tryna look out for you, okay? Don’t feel like dealin’ with your shit ‘bout how he broke your heart. I mean, if you’re not gonna let him hit, he’s gonna be expectin’ somethin’ else, you know that, right?”

She swallows.

“I— are you sure? But…but I don’t even know how to—” 

“Poor baby, what would you do without your big brother, hm? Don’t worry, I’ll teach you, yeah?” he coos before pinky promising he’ll be gentle.

And that’s how she ends up on her knees in front of him. 

“Ray, this doesn’t feel…right,” she mumbles out, eyes focused on the ruddy tip he’s thumbing over while he stares at her.

“Shh, can be our little secret, yeah? Jus’ wanna make sure my little sister doesn’t embarrass herself,” he lets out a grunt when she blinks up at him with uncertain eyes.

“Open your mouth, tongue out,” he instructs while moving closer to her tentative form, biting his lip when she gingerly does what he tells her to. Then, he’s thudding the drippy head on the flat of her tongue— one, two, three times, which makes her let out a noise; something that only seems to spur him on.

He tastes salty and she doesn’t necessarily mind it, which makes her feel entirely too gross about the situation altogether— the words ‘I don’t wanna do this anymore’ turning into a tangled muddle when he’s already pushing past her lips, making her gag around the sudden intrusion.

“Shit, tha’s good, jus’ take it, yeah?” he rumbles out; a big hand holding the back of her head as he stuffs himself deeper down her throat— cock twitching in response to her whines and attempts at drawing away for air.

It overwhelms her to no end when he’s so rough, abrasive, but despite his broken promise, she’s unable to prevent her thighs from pressing together when throaty moans keep escaping him; his respiration turning labored by each lazy rut of his hips while her head begins to spin.

Only when his sticky cum gushes onto her tongue— the white substance dribbling past the seam of her lips and covering her chin in the process, does he grant her a moment to catch her breath.

“Guys like it when you swallow,” his voice is like gravel when he pushes at her jaw, heady gaze glued to the way her throat bobs when she does just that, the aftertaste of what they’ve done making her feel stained; dirty.

“You know, s’cute you thought I’d let some, some shithead fuck my sister,” he sounds almost humored as he pats at the flushed skin of her cheek— making her eyes turn watery when he swipes a thumb under her wobbly bottom lip to clean up the remaining mess.

She feels something in her guts churn when he tucks it back into her mouth with a sick smile.

[systlin]

So, to explain my little adventure I just got back from, it is necessary to set the scene by explaining a few things.

My dog is a Great Pyraneese. She weighs 90 Pounds. It is mostly muscle.

My neighbors a quarter mile down the road have chickens. They like to let them free range.

Now, this is not a problem at all, EXCEPT for the fact that whenever Tyr sees them something deep in her little livestock guardian breed brain goes "Oh, I am supposed to be Responsible for this Livestock." She will attempt to plonk her 90 pound furry ass down as far towards their yard as her leash will permit and want to sit there and simply stare at the chickens. She is not aggressive towards them, she simply wants to lie down and Keep An Eye On Things, the way a good livestock guardian dog is supposed to. It is the same reason she would love to fight the foxes that live under the falling down farmhouse down the street to the death and is very upset that I will not let her.

The PROBLEM is, well

3. My neighbors also have a miniature poodle. She is convinced, in every cell of her 15 pound body, that No Other Dogs Should Come Anywhere Near Her Fucking Yard. She has no concept that Tyr outweighs her by 75 pounds and is absolutely convinced that she could win this fight.

Normally if she's outside she is out in the fenced backyard and this isn't a problem. I also don't let Tyr wander into other yards, because it's rude to let your dog pee on the neighbor's grass unless they've said they're fine with it and also I live in Fuckass Nowhere. There's plenty of county owned grass on the roadside for Tyr to pee on. Still, even if I'm coaxing her along past the chickens, she will want to slow down and drift over to that side of the road to look at them.

TODAY, however, the mini poodle was NOT in the backyard. She was in the unfenced front yard, and as soon as we walked past she saw another dog not ON her yard, but heading TOWARDS her yard, and she hurled herself into battle with no thought for her own safety.

Now, Tyr is not aggressive towards other dogs. There is an exception to this, though, and it is 'unless an off leash dog comes running full speed in the general direction of one of Her People while snarling and barking'. If this happens, I suddenly have 90 pounds of Great Pyr ready for mortal combat on the end of the leash.

This brings us to item 4

4. I broke my left arm in April and while it is healing and good for light use now, 'Light Use' does not include 'restraining 90 pounds of furious livestock guardian dog convinced her person is about to be attacked by a reactive dog'

This means that I looped up the leash short and controlled her one armed. I did not think about this twice particularly. I know I can do it and just. Did it. I wouldn't walk her if I couldn't control her, after all. Once she figured out that no, the poodle was NOT going to attack me, she calmed down, but was still growling.

But I did this as a panicked neighbor dude came running out to try and get his dog, convinced that his kids were about to watch their beloved pet get turned into Great Pyr chow.

Oh and

5. I did this while wearing a Wonder Woman tshirt

So, long story short, his 4 year old daughter is convinced now that I actually AM Wonder Woman, because "She's Strong Like Wonder Woman!" and my neighbor learned that his poodle dug out from under the fence, how's everyone else's days going.

(All dogs unhurt)