#it’s been done for a week and I cannot bring myself to edit

[dragonknight205]

With Fate season 2’s anniversary coming up I really need motivation to hit me so I can finish editing this chapter

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Haunting With Dinosaurs (2)

Danny is summoned by a powerful occult practitioner named Victor Veloci, who wants him to bring dinosaurs back to life. It sounds absurd, but Danny is bound to him and cannot refuse, even though he can't actually bring dinosaurs back to life. Instead, he merges the ghosts of five dinosaurs with the bodies of the five human sacrifices Veloci used to summon him, restoring them to life as dinosaur halfas. And that's only the beginning. I'm lowkey assuming that the majority of people who read this will not have seen Dino Squad, so I've made sure to describe all the DS elements a little more thoroughly than the DP elements so those of you who haven't seen Dino Squad can understand what's going on.

Written for @crossoverdanuary Week, Day 4: Any Fandom Dino Squad | Element

Read it on AO3 also, Watch Dino Squad on YouTube it sucks (affectionate)

Danny is slightly aged up to be 18 and a recent high school graduate, also this is a ghost king Danny AU, and obviously Phantom Planet didn't happen, but other than that, no major changes have been made to DP lore in this fic.

As for Dino Squad, I've made some pretty significant changes, but they pretty much boil down to: This is a supernatural AU, so it won't have canon-typical Dino Squad made-up science. All other changes are explained in the actual fic as they come up.

This may or may not be the last chapter, haven't decided yet, but I made sure to give it a decent ending, just in case. It is not yet edited, but will be eventually.

"Italicized dialogue" indicates speech that can only be heard in the POV character's head. (Danny in this chapter)

Chapter 2: Day of the Dinos

Previous

[No applicable warnings]

After dropping off the van and driver, Danny flew straight to the school and waited impatiently. It was a Saturday, so the only people on campus were the boys' soccer team playing practice games, the few unlucky teachers who had last-minute work to get done, and the fewer, even unluckier students who'd gotten stuck with weekend detention.

For the sake of not drawing attention to himself, he'd switched to his human form. Any time someone got close who might recognize he wasn't supposed to be there, he would duck out of sight behind the school's sign, or a tree or something. He didn't need to be mistaken for someone who was supposed to be in detention—or worse, on the soccer team.

In the 15 hours or so that he'd been in this town, Danny hadn't learned much about it. He'd learned that it was called Kittery Point, and it was in Maine, so at least he hadn't left the country. After hearing Victor's accent, he'd been a little worried that he might've been in Europe somewhere. He'd learned that he couldn't leave this town, thanks to his order not to go too far. 

And he'd learned that this place was absolutely teeming with dinosaur ghosts.

It was a veritable Jurassic Park of ghost dinosaurs. 

It was kind of awesome, but also kind of terrifying, because Danny had nearly been stepped on twice while he was standing in front of the school waiting, and even if they were too weak to be visible or tangible to a normal human, they could still crush Danny just fine. He wouldn't die, but it would hurt like a bitch.

He'd been waiting for half-an-hour before Rodger finally showed up.

Danny had made sure to get all their names before he'd dropped them off. Rodger was the one he'd merged with the styrofoam-saurus or whatever it was. The one that looked like a triceratops, but wasn't. Danny still hadn't figured out the difference.

"Over here!" Danny called out to him.

"Uh... do I know you?" Rodger asked. "Sorry, I can't really chat, I'm looking for—"

"The ghost king?" Danny flashed his eyes. "It's me, Danny."

"You overshadowed some poor kid?"

"No, it's me," Danny repeated. "I can take on a human form to disguise myself. I call myself Danny Fenton in the form. Get it? 'cause it sounds like—"

"Phantom, yeah, I get it."

Back home, Danny couldn't really use his human form as a disguise, since even as a human he was fairly famous locally for his association to his parents, who were regularly in the news, especially the traffic report. It was pretty convenient to be a nobody, all told.

Rodger immediately tried to get answers out of him, of course. He seemed like the inquisitive type. He was obviously the smart one of the group. Not that the others weren't smart, but it was a type, and he met all the requirements.

"Please, be patient," Danny said. "Once everyone is together, I'll explain things to all of you at once, and you can all ask your follow-up questions. I don't want to have to keep repeating myself for each of you guys, okay? Sound fair?"

Rodger begrudgingly allowed it.

Danny had to go through basically the same conversation again when Max and then Fiona showed up, and again with Caruso.

Danny liked Caruso. He was cute when his face wasn't all busted up, and it turned out he was pretty funny too. Now that he'd showered, gotten dressed in new clothes, and put a little product in his hair, he was downright gorgeous. He looked classy too. Not a lot of teenagers wore their skinny jeans with a dress shirt and tie, but Caruso made it work.

Oh, Ancients was he staring? Danny, stop staring!

"So you can shapeshift," Caruso summed up. "That's convenient."

They had to wait a little while longer before Buzz showed up. He strolled up to them wearing brown combat boots, green cargo pants covered in patches and safety pins, and a tie-dyed muscle shirt with the logo of a band Danny had never heard of. Now, with all the piercings, and punk accessories, the mohawk made a lot more sense.

"Sorry I'm late," he said. "I almost didn't come. I thought it might be better not to know what was going on and just try to move on, but this voice squawking in my head is really annoying."

"Does it want fish?" Fiona asked.

"Yes! Yours too?"

"She literally won't shut up about it."

"Mine is also complaining about having to walk everywhere and calling me stupid and inferior for nor being able to fly," Buzz added. "Anyone else? No?"

They all shook their heads.

"Awesome."

"It's so weird seeing you without the battle jacket," Caruso commented.

"Well, you'd better get used to it because that thing is toast. Literally."

"Right... sorry."

"Alright, our ride should be out any minute now," Danny said, checking the clock on the front of the school building.

As if on cue, the very woman he was waiting for walked out the front entrance and he waved at her. Joanne Moynihan, a bespectacled, gray-haired, Irish science teacher at the very same high school these kids happened to attend, and she was the second velociraptor who'd survived the extinction.

It had taken Danny all night to find her, asking both human and dinosaur ghosts for leads, but he'd tracked her down that morning and talked to her, and she was way different from her counterpart. For one thing, where Victor had been able to see ghosts the entire time, Joanne didn't even believe in ghosts until Danny proved his own existence to her. For another, she was kind, and cared about humans, and Danny was fairly certain she would never kill anyone, let alone her own students.

"Our AP bio teacher?" Fiona asked. "Am I the only one whose confused?"

"I'm confused," Buzz agreed.

"What does she have to do with any of this?" Max asked, looking a little lost.

"A lot more than you'd think, actually," Danny told them.

"These are the five you were talking about?" Ms. Moynihan asked, surprised. "What are the odds of five students from my third period class all getting dragged into this mess."

"Well, every story gets to have a really big coincidence," Danny said with a shrug. "So here's ours, I guess. Should we get going?"

"Of course," Ms. Moynihan said, leading the way to the parking lot. "You're lucky I decided to buy a van so I could transport lab equipment more easily or it'd be quite the tight squeeze to drive all of you."

They all piled into her car. Then she and Danny explained the situation to them. 

Ms. Moynihan took the parts about herself and Victor surviving the dinosaurs' extinction and then for millions more years, part of which was spent in suspended animation. Danny took the spooky and supernatural parts, like telling them he'd merged them with dinosaur ghosts to bring them back from the dead.

"I told him that it would be like a possession, but my intention was to essentially give you the powers of the ghostly dinosaurs while your own wills and personalities were completely in control," Danny told them. "I meant to use the energy from the ghost dinos to bring you back with some residual ghost powers. I didn't expect the ghosts' personalities to stick around. 

"Honestly, I didn't really think ghost dinosaurs would have distinct enough personalities to stick around. Sorry about that, guys."

"So basically, the voices we're hearing were an unintended side-effect," Rodger summed up. "But what did you mean by bringing us back with some residual ghost powers? What ghost powers?"

"I'm surprised you haven't noticed them yet," Danny said. "Side-effects of being brought back to life using ghosts may include: intangibility, mild ESP such as the ability to sense the presence of other ghosts, flight, energy manipulation, laser eyes, and much much more!"

"Laser eyes?" Buzz repeated.

"Well, ectoplasmic beams that you can fire from various body parts, but yeah."

"So like... seeing giant spectral dinosaurs tromping through the streets?" Rodger asked. "Yea or nay?"

"You see them too?" Buzz asked. "So It's not just because I missed my meds today."

"That's what I'm talking about," Danny confirmed. "This town has, like, a hugely disproportionate population of ghost dinosaurs, and I strongly suspect that's Mr. Victor's doing. He has this spell or something that calls them right to him. That's how I got the dino ghosts I used to bring you guys back."

"I don't want to have ghost powers," Max lamented. "I wanna be a quarterback."

"Well, your only other option is actually being dead," Danny pointed out. "I'm not asking for gratitude, but you could at least stand to have a little perspective."

Max pouted and sighed but didn't try to complain anymore.

"Hey... we've been driving a long time," Fiona observed. "Where are we going?"

"Ms. Moynihan has graciously agreed to lend us her secret base," Danny said. "It's a lighthouse on the cliffs at the edge of town."

"It's not exactly a secret base," Ms. Moynihan pointed out. "It does have a very powerful light at the top signalling it's position to everyone it can, but Veloci doesn't know I live there, so it should be a safe place to use as our base of operations."

"What operations?" Caruso asked. "What exactly do you think we're going to be doing?"

"Well, for one, I've gotta teach you how to use all your ghost powers," Danny pointed out, "because they can be kind of problematic if you can't use them properly."

"And for another, Veloci needs to be stopped," Ms. Moynihan added. "You five now have the power, and I believe also the motivation to stop him."

"I stalled him by saying it would take centuries to regain enough power to repeat what I did with you guys on other dinosaurs," Danny said, "But with this binding spell on me, it's only a matter of time before he discovers I was lying."

"We should probably add finding a way to remove that binding spell to our to-do list, too, then," Fiona said. "Right?"

"I would certainly appreciate it," Danny agreed. "In the mean time, Ms. Moynihan is gonna help me enroll as a student at your school. I never thought I'd end up back in the hell that is high school after I became the king of actual hell, but I'll do whatever it takes to keep an eye on you guys and protect you."

"Why?" Caruso asked. "In fact, why did you bring us back to life at all? Not that I'm necessarily complaining, but like you said, you're the king of hell, king of the dead. Why do you even care about a few insignificant humans like us?"

"I may be the king of the dead, but that doesn't mean I want everyone to die," Danny said. "I was alive once too. I died young, and it sucked. It only happened to you five because someone wanted to summon me, so... I guess I feel responsible for you. For your deaths, and for making sure it doesn't happen again any time soon.

"Besides, I can't leave town because dear old Victor told me not to go far, so what else am I gonna do? Hang out with him and work as his dumb black magic shop? No thanks."

"I guess that makes sense," Caruso allowed, but he still sounded a bit suspicious.

Danny decided not to push it, even though he kind of really wanted Caruso, in particular, to like him. Hopefully, Caruso would come around eventually, but Danny wouldn't get anywhere with him by aggressively insisting he was the good guy and they had to trust him. He could show them he was trustworthy. That was what he planned to do anyway.

At last, they reached the lighthouse. 

Ms. Moynihan went straight inside while the rest of them stayed outside so Danny could give them their first lesson: transforming.

"Transforming from a human to a ghost is just like flipping a switch," Danny explained. "Just try to focus, and shift from human to ghost. I've found a catchphrase can help when you're a beginner. Observe." He clenched his fists, solidified his stance and shouted, "I'm goin' ghost!"

Familiar white rings appeared, spanning his body, and then he stood before them in his ghost form.

"Turning human again should be even easier, since it's your natural state," Danny said, then demonstrated turning human again. "Now you try."

The five teens looked between each other with raised eyebrows and puzzled expressions.

"Uh... going... ghost?" Fiona tried.

Nothing happened.

"Hm.... Oh! I know!" Danny said. "Remember how your ghost powers come from being merged with ghost dinosaurs? Try picturing the dinosaur you're merged with. Fiona, for you, that's a spinosaurus. Caruso got a stegosaurus. Max got a T-Rex. Buzz got a pteranodon—"

"No wonder she won't shut up about flying!" Buzz shouted.

"And Rodger got a... um... styro... styrieco... saurus?"

"A what?" Rodger asked. His brows furrowed and he frowned in thought. "Do you mean a styracosaurus?"

"Maybe?" Danny said. "It looked like a triceratops to me."

"But with spines on the fringe and no horns over the eyes, right?" Rodger guessed.

"Is that what the difference was?" Danny asked, gaping. "You know, come to think of it, it did look like that—Oh! Also, those voices you guys are hearing might actually be able to help with this, since you're kind of trying to transform into them."

"Are you sure they won't be able to take control once we transform?" Caruso asked.

"Absolutely," Danny confirmed. "Well, mostly. Actually, I hadn't even considered that possibility, but it's probably fine." 

Wow, Caruso was more clever than he let on. And Danny had just completely fumbled his reassurances. Damn. He was losing points with this guy that he didn't even have.

"Great," Caruso said sardonically.

Still, the five of them kept trying, and one by one, they were each able to turn into faintly glowing spectral dinosaurs. And as a bonus, the dinosaurs' personalities didn't even become dominant when they transformed. Huge win!

While they were practicing, Ms. Moynihan came out with a camera and took pictures of the red markings around Danny's wrists, the markings from the binding spell. They even carried over to his human form, which was concerning, and Danny couldn't make heads or tails of what the symbols meant. Not that he was exactly an expert on that.

Ms. Moynihan wasn't an expert on ancient symbology or languages either, as she was quick to point out. She was a scientist—a geneticist, actually—and all this magic and spirits nonsense was not her field. Nevertheless, she was a skilled researcher with millennia of experience, and she would do what she could.

By the time the teens insisted on heading home for the night, they could all fly back on their own, and Danny felt like they had a solid start. There was a lot they still needed to learn, and a lot they still needed to do before they could beat Victor and Danny would finally be able to return home himself, but they could do it. He was sure of it.

"Come to me," Victor's voice sounded in his head and the marking's on his wrists burned.

He shifted to his ghost form and took off toward the black magic shop in the shady part of town. 

This would be both their biggest advantage, and their biggest struggle. Danny could act as a double agent, telling them about all of Victor's plans and schemes and warning them of danger. But he also had to follow all of Victor's commands, no matter what.

Leading Victor on without giving the others away until they were able to take him down was going to be quite the challenge.

"Ghost King," Victor called him. "They're gone! They've escaped."

"First, it's Phantom, not ghost king. I don't call you Evil Velociraptor Witch," Danny said. "And second, I can see that they're gone. I'm standing right next to you. You don't have to yell at me."

"Well where are they?"

"I don't know, they probably went home. Why don't you just call their parents and ask?"

"I can't call their parents, I don't know who they are."

"You sacrificed five random kids without even knowing who they are? Very sloppy."

"Can't you find them with one of your powers?"

"No can do," Danny said. "I can sense ghosts when they're nearby, but I can't magically track them down."

It wasn't a lie. Victor hadn't asked Danny if he knew where they lived, or if he could find them without the use of his powers.

He was starting to realize that Victor was one of those magic-users who was completely over-reliant on magic, to the point where he forgot about easier non-magical methods of doing things. If Danny was right, Victor wouldn't ask Danny to start knocking on doors until one of his missing sacrifices answered one.

He'd try to find a tracking spell or something, and a tracking spell wouldn't work without something that belonged to the person he was looking for. The only thing Victor had from any of them was their blood on the floor of his basement, and that wasn't going to cut it. At least, not once Danny mopped it all up and claimed he was just trying to be helpful when Victor yelled at him for it.

"I suppose I'll have to find a tracking spell," Victor said, turned out Danny was right on the money. "But first, you said they would be possessed by the spirits of the dinosaurs I called. But when they woke up, they seemed to be in complete control. I know how a dinosaur trapped in a human body acts, and they were not acting like dinosaurs trapped in human bodies."

"Technically, I said it would be like possession," Danny pointed out. "I can merge two spirits together, but I can't control which one has control. My guess is that the spirits of the dinosaurs were partially faded and weakened because of their age, which meant the human spirits were stronger and took control."

That actually was a lie, but Victor hadn't ordered him not to lie, so as long as he wasn't refusing an order, he was fine. 

At least, that had been basically what he'd hoped was going to happen when he revived those kids. In reality the dinosaur spirits had ended up being much stronger than he'd expected, despite their age. That was why the humans could still hear their voices.

"I've never dealt with ghosts that were millions of years old before," he continued. "Honestly, I didn't even know there were ghosts of dinosaurs until after you summoned me. I'm doing the best with what I've got, but you gotta understand this is completely new territory for me, and I'm learning as I go."

"So what you're saying is I know infinitely more than you about prehistoric ghosts."

"I wouldn't have put it that way, but pretty much."

Victor sneered. "Very well," he said. "Leave me to my work, but don't go too far. I'll call upon you when I need you again."

"Aye aye, sir," Danny said with a mocking salute.

Then he flew up through the ceiling and back toward the lighthouse where Ms. Moynihan had told him he could stay until he was able to return home. He could tell already that he was in this for the long haul. And he definitely had his work cut out for him. 

[loverboy-havocboy]

the draft of eighteen's next chapter has been done for a few days but i cannot bring myself to sit down at my computer and edit.. i'm going to blame my weird work schedule this week and my sudden and consuming infatuation with eliot spencer leverage

[mikeylivesattheend]

tw; right wing dudes saying right wing stuff in links,rant

I really want to know. Does anyone else hate the completionist drama, not bc of what the completionist did/did not do, but bc of the guys who started making videos abt it

Karl jobst had some drama like 2 years ago u can still see on reddit regarding him saying some racist shit and hanging around in nazi circles.

(Links are to karl accusations with receipts)

Someordinarygamer, at a glance, has not done anything that bad. But he's a centrist who operates a bit like moistcritcal, Aka responding to drama of the week. Also, If u don't know, american centrism is basically diet right wing, with some being waywayway more nazisish (I don't think he's as bad as jobst, but I don't trust people who say the left and the right are two sides of the same coin, links to reddit proof below). He was the kind of person to talk abt the hogwarts legacy backlash in a '""""balanced"""" way🙄

(SomeOrdinaryGamer being a centrist proof)

(Reddit is not the end of research obviously. Karls vibes are bad but I only felt it after a few vids. Someordinarygamer is easier to see red flags. So watch their vids if u don't trust reddit, I wouldnt blame u lmao)

Idk. Like i understand fucking holding charity money for 10 years is immoral, the company was absolutely mismanaged, and the completionist had no right claiming they were donating to various charities actively. BUT how am i supposed to trust those guys' analysis and the million other inflammatory drama channels covering it???

Has a legit lefty person talked about this in in depth, with their own research, since the completionists apology???

I know bad people can have correct takes, but I just cannot bring myself to trust their analysis. As silly as it seems, even I, when I watched half of one of their videos, noticed the e-signature issue. How much research are these guys actually doing, and are their conclusions truly reflective of all the information available?

Not trying to start shit, its just been on my mind, i guess.

EDIT: Literally like 5 hours I posted this Moon Channel said he would be covering this and I trust him a hell of a lot more. He's made major mistakes on one video that I know of, but he's owned up to them w/ links on correct resources, and hes not a fucking centrist wow. Hes also a lawyer so hes at least slightly more qualified to discuss this topic. I will update if the video seems solid

[stigmatvm]

ok, this is/should be the final post about this. i should probably stop saying that, though. its like a jinx.

anyway, this is my apology and clarification regarding @houkusu /guraraundozero/oubaahouru / mouse and perce / @chimerameat/@scarsify

i was egregiously and dangerously negligent in how i handled things and spoke about them. ive removed all posts regarding the situation and them because i was entirely out of line. i've spoken in dms with mouse and reached out to personally apologize and clear up misunderstandings that i should have asked about prior and done the right due diligence. i seriously and genuinely fucked up, and im incredibly sorry to both them and anyone else that got caught up in my tirade. im making this statement because i had started by posting publicly on my blog-- and so i believe the same audience should see the resolution and understand where things stand so as not to indirectly cause further damage

the past few weeks ive been dealing with medicine withdrawal, health issues, and other personal stressors-- which isn't an excuse. I only bring it up to say that because of those things, i should have known better than to involve myself, because as an adult i should know when i can and cannot be reasonable. and its inexcusable when it comes to the kinds of things that can seriously damage someones reputation and well-being. I was irresponsible at the cost of other people.

to clear up what may have been gleaned from what i said: perce is not a proshipper. perce and mouse both understand what sort of damage those kinds of things do. the posts were removed because of discussions held between friends-- the appropriate action and one i should have taken myself. there's no conspiratorial pinboard, just a series of overlapping conflicts i didnt have a right to speculate on, and i was severely out of line tonally and with how i aimed my anger.

i treated people like shit and did things that have been done unto me in a way that i had hoped i would never do. i disregarded the feelings of one of my dearest friends. all i can do is apologize. both to them and everyone else i may have put under duress. if theres anything i can do to make up for it or prove im being genuine, ill do it.

im not going to go deeper into how things are unfolding because of the sensitive nature, but regardless of how things turn out, i fucked up. i was cruel and didnt give people the benefit of the doubt i try to preach about giving, and i hope this statement can help clear up any of the rumors or speculation i may have kickstarted

love you all <3

edit: im not associating with myers anymore. this all has just been sickening

[bxcketbarnes]

Little Distractions

Pairing: Ashton Irwin x Reader

Words: 900+

Author's Note: Okay, so, the live he did was so fucking great. He's fucking adorable and so talented and the entire time I was thinking of how I can turn it into a fic lmfao and I did it! I hope you guys enjoy it! 🥰

You're in the middle of editing your client's photos when your phone rings. You tear your eyes away from your computer screen to see your boyfriend FaceTiming you. A small chuckle leaves your lips as you swiftly take your glasses off before answering the call.

"Hey, handsome," you grin as Ashton seems to be in his studio. You find him to look extremely adorable with the yellow beanie that's currently covering his hair.

The man smiles at you while adjusting the teal-colored bass in his lap. "Hey, love. Are you busy?" Ashton asks you and your eyes glance towards the computer.

"Mm, just a bit, yeah. Editing a photoshoot I did last week," you tell him and you see the smile drop from his lips a bit. "But, I'm able to multitask if you don't want to go."

"Are you sure? I don't want to bother you," your boyfriend mumbles as his fingers fumbled with the strings on his bass.

You give him a pointed look before sliding your glasses back on. "I'm sure, Ash. What's going on?" You ask while turning your attention back to your work.

"I'm just fiddling with some things and wanted to show you," he says with a bit of excitement and a smile comes to your face.

"Oh, I bet it's fantastic, baby," you grin and prop your phone against your computer screen.

Ashton does the same for his phone as the two of you go back to what you're doing. The music that he plays for you sounds very angelic and doesn't take long for your head to sway back and forth.

You glance at him every few minutes, listening to him mumble to himself as he tries to get the chords right. You bite your lip gently as you watch him for about a minute, seeing his hazel eyes glued to his screen.

Ashton casts his eyes down towards his phone and your breath hitches in your throat at how good he looks. You can feel your cheeks blush as the two of you make eye contact before he looks back up at the screen.

"You're cute," he mumbles before playing the clip once more. You cover your mouth with your hand as you smile to yourself, feeling yourself fawn over him like you did before the two of you started dating.

"Shut up," you chuckle into your hand and bring your eyes back to the photos you're editing. "Can't look at me like that and not expect me to swoon."

Ashton giggles and pushes away some of the strands of hair that's sticking out from under the beanie. "Can't help myself, darling. You are just so cute with glasses," he tells you with a large smile, his palm resting against his chin. "I miss you."

You let out an involuntary whine and glance towards your boyfriend, seeing the slight pout on his lips. "I miss you too, Ashton. Just a couple more weeks and I'll be back with you," you reassure him and tuck some hair behind your ear.

"I honestly just can't wait to have you in my arms again. Been far too long," Ashton mumbles and sits back in his chair, adjusting the beanie on his head.

Your heart flutters in your chest and you smile softly. "I love you so much. I cannot wait for your cuddles," you mention, and Ashton giggles while nodding his head in agreement. "And to kiss you. Definitely miss your lips."

The man licks his lips as he shakes his head, fingers roaming across the bass he's holding. "You're making me miss you more, love," Ashton laughs and you look down at him once again.

"Oops."

Your boyfriend scoffs and rolls his eyes playfully. "Oops, my ass. We've been dating for five years. I know how you are," he explains and you giggle at his words, resting your knuckles against your chin. "You're a brat."

"But, you love me," you chime in and Ashton tilts his head a bit before clicking his tongue.

"I do very much," he grins and picks his phone up. "I would love to chat more, but you're not getting much done with me here and I have to come up with some lyrics."

You pout at the man and feel your heart drop a bit. "I don't want you to go though," you say sadly and Ashton sighs, running his hand along the scruff on his face. "You can't come up with lyrics while we're on the phone? I promise I'll continue working."

Ashton licks his lips and sets his phone back down. "I- I can't do lyrics in front of you. You make me nervous," he chuckles and you give him a sad smile, letting out a short breath. "Plus think of it this way… the quicker you do your work, the quicker you'll be in my arms."

You sit back in your chair and sigh in response, knowing he's right. "You're right. Okay, I'll let you go. I love you," you tell him and Ashton blows you a kiss.

"I love you, sweetheart. So much."

The two of you bid each other goodbye before hanging up. You set your phone down in the place it was sitting before he called and cross your arms over your chest.

"God, I miss you," you mumble to yourself as your eyes look at your lock screen. You smile fondly at the photo, pressing your lips together as you watch until the screen turns black. "Two more weeks…"

"Two more weeks," Ashton mumbles to himself as he sets his bass back into its holder. He shoves the beanie off of his head before combing his fingers through his hair, a sigh leaving his parted lips. "Two more weeks."

-

Taglist: @calpalirwin @sexgodashton @myloverboyash @valentine5sos @chloestemporaryfix @aladyofalbion @philthepegacorn @calumspupils @mialuvsyou @bvbygxrl @suchalonelysunflower @devilatmydoor @spicycal @marshmallowtraver @jessalyn-jpeg @maddz-world @everyscarisahealingplace @itsasadfishworld @iwritesiriusly @notinthesameguey @talkfastromance4 @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @likehuhdude @hoodhoran @lrhbabylon @the-ghost-of-ash @itjustkindahappenedreally @major5sosstan @calmsweetcreature​ @joanniecandy​ @hopelessromantic727​ @wiiildflowerrr​ @secretsicanthideanymore @mystic-233

[stardustprompts]

the poppy war - r.f kuang   sentence starters change tenses/pronouns as needed !!  some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying tw :   drugs , death , murder , nsfw , prostitution mention , language

‘take off your clothes.’

‘why would anyone drug themselves before a test?’

‘you’re about to be a very lucky girl, sweet.’

‘wow that’s great. really great. Terrific.’

‘your folks are assholes.’

‘well fuck the heavenly order of things.’

‘don’t you have actual responsibilities?’

‘I don’t want to get on _____ ‘s bad side.’

‘you would make a terrible prostitute. no charm.’

‘what is so wrong with getting married?’

‘do you want to die?’

‘everything is spilling out of my head as quickly as I put it in.’

‘please do not commit spousal homicide.’

‘give me a way out of this shithole.’

‘hello, I’m praying.’

‘I seduced him with my nubile young body. you caught me.’

‘you can’t scare me into a confession, because I’m telling the truth.’

‘and that means you’re shit at your job.’

‘if you cross them—- if they even think you’ve looked at them funny—- they can and will hurt you.’

‘it’s easy to lose a language when you never speak it.’

‘you’re offending them with your very presence.’

‘they’ll make you an outsider, because you’re not like them.’

‘no matter what they say, you deserve to be here.’

‘I’ll kill you. I will fucking kill you.’

‘I went out in the sun once. you should try it sometime.’

‘oh, you’re the one ____ hates.’

‘you’d be a prick too if your family was both rich and attractive.’

‘honestly? I think he just comes in here to get high.’

‘I think you’re flattering yourself.’

‘unless you’ve got a weapon, don’t aim for the face. the neck’s a better target.’

‘we aren’t here to be sophisticated. we’re here to fuck people up.’

‘this is the only kick you’ll ever need, really. a kick to bring down the most powerful warriors.’

‘power dictates acceptability.’

‘he hasn’t done anything to earn my respect. all he’s done is act high and mighty.’

‘you’re nothing. you shouldn’t even be here.’

‘consider me bullied and intimidated, just let me sleep.’

‘he’s playing with her. he’ll end it soon.’

‘they’re good at fighting, but not much else.’

‘spend a lot of time looking at ____’s eyes do you?’

‘a betrayal of that sort would not have been out of character.’

‘come on, you belong here too.’

‘they’re not going to get rid of me like this. not this easily.’

‘I’m calm! I’m extremely calm!’

‘you’d rather kill your own people than let the opponent’s army walk away?’

‘you don’t let an enemy walk away if they’ll certainly be a threat to you later.’

‘he can’t stop raving about you.’

‘oh, don’t pretend to be bashful. you love it.’

‘you’re a walking disaster.’

‘anyone this obstinate deserves some attention, if only to make sure you don’t become a walking hazard to everyone around you.’

‘I heard he got drunk on rice wine last week and pissed into ____’s window. he sounds awesome.’

‘it’s me, your favorite person in the whole wide world.’

‘I do not have a problem. you are making up this problem for reasons unbeknownst to me.’

‘you’re killing the mood.’

‘they were weak as shit. scrawnier than you, even.’

‘you’re a real asshole. you know that right?’

‘your state of mind is just as important as the state of your body.’

‘sometimes you must loose the string to let the arrow fly.’

‘because I want to break his stupid face.’

‘he’s the most dangerous when he’s desperate.’

‘from this point on you’re just going to be a danger to yourself and everyone around you.’

‘you’re too reckless. you hold grudges, you cultivate your rage and let it explode, and you’re careless about what you’re taught.’

‘I knew I was the only one that could help him.’

‘they honed his rage like a weapon, instead of teaching him to control it.’

‘one urinating statue for my easily entertained friend.’

‘I don’t believe in gods. but I believe in power.’

‘one might say you’ve been obsessed with ____.’

‘don’t look to your left. pretend you’re taking to me.’ / ‘I am talking to you.’

‘we’re studying very weird things.’

‘I don’t actually know what I’m getting into.’

‘here is what happened: you called a god, and the god answered.’

‘you know that if you don’t get answers now, the hunger will consume you and your mind will crack.’

‘you’ve glimpsed the other side and you can’t rest until you fill in the blanks.’

‘supernatural is a word for anything that doesn’t fit your present understanding of the world.’

‘I’m supposed to take it as true that you’re a god?’

‘I’m not a god. I am a mortal who has woken up, and there is power in awareness.’

‘are we getting high? oh, wow. we’re getting high.’

‘ah. the law. so inconvenient. so irrelevant.’

‘we are not madmen. but how can we convince anyone of this, when the rest of the world believes it so?’

‘the price of power is pain.’

‘I understand the truth of things. I know what it means to exist.’

‘prey do not question the motives of the predator. the dead do not question the living. mortals do not challenge the gods.’

‘I killed for you. I would have done anything for you.’

‘I have seen the end of things. the shape of the world has changed.’

‘war doesn’t determine who’s right. war determines who remains.’

‘it’s alright. I know what you are.’

‘I thought I was the only one left.’

‘we have developed the power to rewrite the fabric of this world. if we don’t use it, then what’s the point?’

‘I don’t mess with that shit. it screws you up.’

‘I understand the appeal, I really do, but I like having my mind to myself.’

‘he’s a charmer. like a new puppy. you think he’s adorable until he pisses on the furniture.’

‘there’s no routine. no discipline. nothing you’re used to. am I right?’

‘so you’re the last of your kind. that’s sad.’

‘If you hold the fate of the country in your hands, if you have accepted your obligation to your people, then your life ceases to be your own.’

‘____ feared, and so he held you back.’

‘great danger is always associated with great power. the difference between the great and the mediocre is that the great are willing to take that risk.’

‘don’t ever let go on that anger. rage gives you power. caution does not.’

‘don’t give in... you’ve been so brave... but it takes more bravery to resist the power.’

‘the nature of this god is to destroy. the nature of this god is to be greedy, to never be satisfied with what he has consumed.’

‘so. screaming at rocks. is that, like, normal behavior here?’

‘fix this. prove your worth. do your fucking job or get out.’

‘I saved your life. doesn’t that make us at least a little square?!’

‘I was scared of you. and I lashed out.’

‘I thought I was better than you, and I’m not. I’m sorry.’

‘when I killed it, it felt like murder.’

‘look, I’m happy to discuss this, really, but I’m currently leaking life out three different wounds and I think I may pass out. would you give me a moment?’

‘well maybe ____ should get his head out of his ass.’

‘ ____ is more fragile than you think.’

‘look, asshole, I don’t need you to tell me what to do.’

‘they say he can read the future. shatter minds.’

‘you misunderstand the nature of our relationship. I am not your friend.’

‘he’s not human. he—- I don’t know what he is.’

‘but ___ was never allowed to be human.’

‘do you trust me?’ / ‘no. but that’s irrelevant.’

‘you don’t know what true suffering is.’

‘I have seen more than my fair share of suffering.’

‘that boy is beyond redemption. that boy is broken like the rest.’

‘I don’t want to be saved! I want power!’

‘that power will destroy everything you’ve ever loved. you will defeat your enemy, and the victory will turn to ashes in your mouth.’

‘we’ve missed something. something’s been laid out for us, but we can’t see it.’

‘fretting won’t make the dead come back to life.’

‘there was nothing human in those eyes.’

‘It was a nightmare, and I couldn’t wake up.’

‘I don’t need your pity. I need you to kill them for me.’

‘whatever it takes. swear it on your life. swear it for me.’

‘I won’t judge him. I don’t dare, because I don’t have the right. and neither do you.’

‘you asked me why I wouldn’t stop him. now you understand. you can’t stop an avenger. you can’t reason with a madman.’

‘I am afraid of what he might do in his quest for vengeance. and I am afraid that he is right.’

‘I am about to do something terrible. and you will have a choice.’

‘they give nothing to the universe, and the universe owes them nothing in return.’

‘you cannot survive my death.’

‘you’re trying to deceive me. you don’t get to deceive me.’

‘this is not the way. this path leads only to darkness.’

‘when are you going to stop being such a damn coward? what are you running from?’

‘you will turn the world to ash, and only demons will live in the rubble.’

‘you dress up your crusade with moral arguments, when in truth you would let millions die if it means you get your so-called justice.’

‘you have not cared about anything for a very long time. you are broken.’

‘I am terrified. but only because I’m starting to remember who I once was. don’t go down that path.’

‘your country is ash. you can’t bring it back with blood.’

‘I’m so sorry. I tried to warn you.’

‘you know the worst part? we’re so close to home.’

‘did you miss me? did you miss this?’

‘I just gave him some of his favorite medicine.’

‘resistance here means suffering. there is no escape. no future.’

‘you have nothing to fight for anymore’

‘what are you defending? you owe ____ nothing.’

‘we were disposable. we were tools. tell me that doesn’t make you furious.’

‘I am sick with fury.’

‘I will die on my feet. I will not die a coward. and neither will you.’

‘we could stay here. we could stay here forever. we wouldn’t have to go back.’

‘you’ll have to live with the consequences. but you’re brave ... you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.’

‘I have lost everything I care about. I don’t want peace, I want revenge.’

‘I don’t need to sleep. I need to feel nothing.’

‘do you want forgiveness? I can’t give you that.’

‘we avenged him. he’s gone, but avenged.’

‘you have to believe that it was necessary. that it stopped something worse. and even if it wasn’t, it’s the lie we’ll tell ourselves, starting today and every day afterward.’

‘aren’t you supposed to be a seer? do you ever see anything useful?’

‘we have an enemy whom we love.’

‘I’m going to find and kill everyone responsible. you cannot stop me.’

‘oh I’m not going to stop you.’

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

I don’t know if you have said you won’t talk about the T & Miss J situation. If you did forget this ask. If not what do you think about both company doing nothing about it? Or are they doing something behind the scenes? Until last night i was still thinking i really don’t give a f about them. But now the talk on the street is someone got into her cloud and that’s how they got the pictures. And now i think it’s frightening for someone anyone really do be on the receiving end of something like that.

I hope they are ok more importantly that she is Ok cause it’s her privacy that has been made public, it’s her cloud. Mr T to an extent cause he is in the pictures but for me i couldn’t bring myself to worry about him. But her i feel for her and it seems like it’s not the first time.

And if in a cruel world all this shenanigans is like a pr stunt or something 🔪

T & Miss J, that sounds like a drink name, lol. No, I have no policy on not talking about this, I actually answered a few asks last week when the leak rumor started.

As to the companies approach and their current public silence on it, this is how I see it. Concerning the breach of privacy and hacking someone's IG account or iCloud (it's still not sure what is the origin of the photos), YG is the company that could make a statement because this concerns Jennie, the idol under contract there. Her account was hacked. But just because they haven't said anything, it doesn't mean nothing is being done. Fans shouldn't expect instantly to be in the loop in regards to this issue and how it's handled. Since this is no longer just a mere dating rumor, but something much more serious, perhaps the approach is different. Fans trending hashtags on twitter and demanding a public response is certainly out of concern, but it's also for their peace of mind because they the fans feel the need to know that something is being done. But since they're not in they haven't gotten a response yet, it might translate for them as the company doing nothing to protect its artist. At the same time, the leaks started last week with gurumiharibo posting the photos with their own watermark, but now it escalated, so it does make me wonder why that person was still able to do what they want and still wasn't stopped somehow after so many days. It's a sketchy situation and everyone thinks they have their answer, but at this point, the reality is that we simply don't know.

As to the fans reaction, I think it's quite interesting what's happening. They spent days (some of them are still doing it), making threads to debunk the photos, calling themselves photoshop experts to prove the photos of Tae and Jennie are fake. Of course focusing primarily on proving they are not dating, more than on the aspect of this being a harmful breach of privacy that could lead to the leaking of other personal information, which in my view, is the biggest concern. But now that photos of Jennie with Rose in NY and a mirror selca with Jisoo were also posted, there is a shift in conversation because I guess they are finally allowing themselves to realize that this is way more serious than someone editing photos of Tae and Jennie to fuel a dating rumor. I haven't seen anyone trying to prove the Jennie and Rose photo is fake, that someone took photos of them separately and edited them together. Everyone simply acknowledges it's them. So this points to the actual problem fans had up until now, which was simply not wanting to acknowledge that two people are dating. The more they denied that, the more photos kept leaking. As fans that call for the protection of Tae and Jennie, unfortunately their priorities in the beginning were those of typical stans who cannot accept even the possibility of them being in a relationship. So now it lead to this point.

Hybe doesn't need to make any statement, unless they want to publicly acknowledge that the dating rumor is true or not, which then again, it's not something that is mandatory. Not saying anything could mean different things, especially compared to their approach towards dating rumors in general, which were quickly denied. They are not doing it now, especially since it's way bigger than some article on Pann based on imaginary lovestagram. So perhaps they simply don't want to get involved or Tae himself doesn't want for any statement to be made. We can't possibly know. My point is, fans demanding Hybe to speak up about the leaks of Jennie's photos is not realistic because it concerns an artist from another company.

The situation is still unfolding and everyday now, something else may come up, which is a scary thought. I feel sorry for Jennie because someone hacking a phone and reveal private photos is not something that anyone wants, especially in the context of the world to see. I hope something gets done as soon as possible and as much as I wish this could be a learning lesson for those who are first and foremost more concerned about their idol dating and not about how that information got out, but I'm not getting my hopes up.

[moralesispunk]

In his eyes III (Pero Blacksmith AU)

Pero Tovar x Female Reader

Part 3 of short Pero Blacksmith AU series

Part 2 here / Masterlist here under Pero / Part 4 here

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, smut a lot of smut but also soft Pero

Summary: with your father at his brothers, Pero and you grow closer in the first three days he is gone.

Word count: 8.3k (I have split this into two parts because it was so long but also because so many were looking forward to it and I have not been able to edit the rest yet!)

Day one

Two days later your father left for his brothers, leaving early in the morning. He woke you from your sleep before he went, telling you where he had left the keys for the bakery and coins for the market. You decided to stay in bed for a while longer, the room still dark with no sight of the sun yet.

Sleep did not find you again so you decided to start your day while the rest of the world was still in darkness. You got ready as usual, tying a cloth around your hair to keep it back from your face for the day. Although you knew how to run the bakery, believing you could run it in your sleep, you had only done it a few times by yourself and never for more than two days at a time.

As you double and triple checked that you had everything you would need for the day ahead, a short, sharp rap came to the front door. You froze in the middle of the room, not sure who would be calling by so early in the day. As you slowly opened the door, only enough to check who was standing outside, you found Pero.

He had been turned to face away from the door but as he heard the knob twist he had turned his head around. He was dressed in his usual black, well worn work clothes, though his hair a little smoother than usual. The sun was only now making its way over the tree line, giving enough light to make out his face that was still puffy from a nights sleep. He would look soft had it not been for his scar that stood out as usual.

“Pero?” you opened the door wider so to take in his full appearance.

“Your father left this morning, yes?” he asked and you nodded, “would you like me to walk you to work?”

“Walk me to work?” you repeated.

“The mornings are still dark, the path through the forest even darker.”

“Oh,” you cheeks flushed knowing that Pero had thought about you as he woke this morning, deciding to start his day by walking you to the bakery. You tried to force yourself to think that he only did so because he promised your father he would check in on you this week but even this seemed more than was promised, “well, thank you, Pero. I just need to put on my coat.”

Pero nodded and waited by the door as you tied your cloak around your shoulders, warning off the spring mornings that were still carrying a chill. As you stepped out of the door, Pero moved off the step to let you lock it behind you.

The walk to the village was quiet as you followed the narrow path through the forest next to one another. Pero kept his steps in time with yours despite his much longer legs, occasionally causing you to brush up against one another before avoiding each other’s blushing cheeks. The closer you got to the village the more birds woke with the morning sun, their songs providing music for your walk.

The village was still quiet as you entered, only shop owners making their way through the street to open up for the day. Although the blacksmiths was before the bakery on the street, Pero walked with you to the front of your shop.

As you unlocked the door you turned to face him, “thank you, Pero.”

He nodded, rocking on his heels for a moment before opening his mouth, “can I walk you home this evening?”

“Yes, Pero. I would like that very much,” you giggled slightly, turning to walk into the bakers as Pero walked to his work.

Your day went in quickly as you manned both the front and back of the bakers. When the last customer left you finally felt the impact of the day on your body, the balls of your feet painful with each step. You carried the empty trays from the bread into the back of the shop, catching your reflection in the window. Your face had specks of flower across it, standing out against your flushed cheeks, and your hair was slowly coming undone from under the cloth. As you washed the trays to dry overnight you heard the bell from the door and the call of your name from the front of the shop.

“Pero?” you called back, listening to the sound of his footsteps that neared.

“Busy day?” his eyes scanned the room and the trays upon trays that you had washed.

“I forgot how much work it is to man the front and back by myself,” you laughed tiredly, “I am finished now though, I just need to collect today’s coins.”

He nodded and waited as you counted and recounted the coins you took in today, carefully placing them in your bag and placing the bag in your pocket. The walk back to your home was just as quiet as the morning, though this time because both of you were recovering from a long day of work. Your mind wandered to what food was in the kitchen, remembering you had started a stew the night before that you could finish when you got home. As the sight of the cottage came into view your feet stopped walking as you realised you did not want to say goodbye to Pero just yet.

Pero stopped his steps in time with yours, turning and calling your name.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” you shot out your mouth quickly.

He turned to look at the cottage and back down the empty path before his eyes finally landed on yours.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you awaited his answer. His hand reached up to rub over the scruff of hair around his jaw before he nodded and you both restarted your walk to the cottage. 

The sun was still high enough in the sky as you unlocked the door, taking off your jacket as you stepped inside. You moved to the kitchen but turned when you did not hear the sound of his footsteps following you.

“Are you not coming in?” you turned to him.

“Your father wont mind?” his eyes looking around the room, settling on anything other than you.

“Would he have asked you to check in on me if so?”

Pero thinks for a moment before realising you were right, closing the door behind him before joining you in the kitchen.

“Can I help?” 

“First, you can take off your work clothes,” you point down at his layers covered in soot, “and then I will fetch some water to wash our hands and faces.”

He nodded, stripping himself down to his base tunic as you walked out to the well to gather enough water to fill a basin to clean the day of work off you both. When you came back you quietly washed yourselves before Pero stared the fire for the stew. 

“Do you like wine?” you asked as he walked back into the kitchen. He raised an eyebrow at you. “Wine?” you asked again and he nodded. You poured some into two jugs, enough to drink until dinner was ready.

You reached to lift the pot of stew over to the fire in the sitting room but Pero’s hands stopped you, grunting as he lifted and walked it into the next room. 

You followed with the jugs of wine, carrying the bottle under your arm, and sat on the floor in front of the fire at the other side of the table. Once the pot was set above the fire, Pero gave the stew a stir before moving to sit next to you.

“What do you make in the blacksmiths?” you turned to face him.

“A lot. Equipment for the farmers, weapons for the Lord, whatever else the villagers need,” he took a large drink from his mug, his eyes looking into the fire.

“Did you learn how to do this when you sold your sword?”

Pero shook his head, still not turning to face you, “my father was a blacksmith before he passed. He taught me the skills, believing I would take over from him but… there wasn’t enough money to keep my mother and my sister fed. We lived in a small village with not much work so I sold his workshop and began to sell my sword, sending my mother and sister coins until they passed.”

“Oh, Pero. I’m- I’m so sorry,” you looked down at your hands.

“Don’t be,” he turned to face you, “it was long ago now.”

“Nevertheless. My mum passed long ago and I still miss her. It is okay to miss those you love.”

Pero held your gaze for a moment, his eyes searching yours in the light of the fire.

“Can I ask you another question?”

“You can ask me as many questions as you wish, hermosa” 

You wanted to ask him what that word meant but it wasn’t the first question on your list.

“You have told me stories of your travels but not one about-” your eyes fell to the scar on his face. “You don’t have to if you do not want to.”

“It is not as interesting as you may think,” he chuckled, “I was young, in my early days of selling my sword. A Lord paid me to seek out the man who shared his wife’s bed while he was away on his travels and I discovered it was the Inn keeper’s son. I went after dark, when the Inn was shut and there was his mother waiting for me. She told me to leave and I did not listen. I tried to make my way into the back to find her son but… she had more bravery than many men I have been on the road with, giving me this and warning me never to go back.”

“Was it sore?” 

He nods, his eyes darting down to your lips before back up again, “but nothing I cannot handle,” he smirks.

You reached up, letting your fingers trace over the scar for a moment. Pero leaned into your touch, fighting to keep his eyes open despite the warmth of your skin on his.

“You are a very handsome man, Pero,” the words fell from your mouth before you could stop them. 

You watched as his mouth fell open, his eyebrows furrowing as he thought of what to say in response. His mind did not work fast enough, your hand falling back onto your lap before you pushed yourself up to pour two bowls of stew.

You placed both bowls on the table, walking to the kitchen to bring back some bread, butter and cutlery. 

The pair of you eat in silence, the stew warming your bodies from the inside. You bit back a smile at the way Pero huddled over his bowl, ripping the bread with his teeth and sending crumbs into his moustache. From days of travel you thought as you took your dinner slower, savouring the taste of the meat and vegetables that your father had left for you.

Once you had finished, Pero took the bowls and pot to wash the dishes in the basin and placing the leftover stew on the stovetop. You placed more wood on the fire, pulling a blanket onto your lap as you leaned against the pillows you brought onto the floor.

Pero joined you soon, sitting by your side. You moved to place the blanket over his lap, the tiredness of your muscles meaning you did not care about leaning into his side slightly.

“Can you tell me about your homeland?”

You felt Pero shift slightly beside you before settling.

“It is beautiful. A lot warmer than here but not as green. Wonderful food, you would like it I think…”

His voice carried on, telling you more and more about his home and you felt your eyes begin to close. You moved your head to rest on his shoulder, making his voice halt of a moment, looking down at your soft face. He noticed how your eyelashes rested on your cheeks and the way your smile didn’t quite disappear even on the edge of sleep. He continued talking until he heard your breathing becoming louder and more even.

He whispered your name, moving his hand to gently shake your thigh.

“You should go to bed,” he stated as you looked up at him, watching you lazily nod against his shoulder.

He helped you to your feet, walking to gather his work clothes left in the kitchen before meeting you by the door again. Neither of you wanted to leave one another’s company just yet but the sun had completely disappeared and the only sound from outside was a lonely owl perched on a branch near by.

“I will walk you to work tomorrow?” he asked and you nodded.

You opened the door, leaning against it as you waited for him to leave. When he walked by you felt your hand reach out for his, taking it in yours for a moment and giving it a squeeze. He gently squeezed back, lifting it to press his lips against the back of your knuckles for a moment before walking out again.

“Pero,” you called after him as he reached the end of the garden, “one more question?”

He laughed and nodded, turning and waiting for you to go on.

“What does hermosa mean?”

He chuckled, shaking his head and looking down at the ground before back up at you again. His wide smile covered his whole face, his usual scowl disappearing for a moment, “beautiful.”

You smiled, gripping the door tighter to hold yourself up as he turned to walk away again.

Day two

The next morning Pero showed up your house once again, waiting for you as you finished getting ready for the day. The walk to the village was quiet once more as you bumped shoulders trying to walk next to one another on the path. He walked by your side to the bakery, watching you carefully as you unlocked the shop and stepped inside. He wished you goodbye, agreeing he would be back to walk you home again.

Around half way into the day, the Inn Keeper came in for some bread. 

“Good afternoon, what can I help you for today?”

“Just a loaf for myself, please my lovely. How is your father I haven’t seen him in two days?” You laughed quietly at the question, remembering just how village life could be, gossip starting at the smallest of changes.

“He is visiting his brother, my uncle. He will be back in a few days,” you reply as you wrap up her loaf in brown paper.

“Is that why the blacksmith has been walking you to work each morning,” her eyebrow raised as she smirked.

“Yes. My father asked Per- Mr Tovar to check in on me while he was away,” you handed over the bread, avoiding her eyes as your face burned.

“You should bring him to the Inn tonight for some dinner. My son, you know Henry don’t you, went to the fish port the other day and brought back some wonderful catch to sell.”

Your mouth watered at the thought. Being inland meaning you lived off chicken and beef most of the time, fish only coming into the village where someone travelled to the coast. You nodded, telling her you would stop by after you closed the bakers.

All day you thought about the fish that would be at the Inn, whether it would be in a stew or in a pie. The thought of dinner made you work faster than usual, cleaning up and closing the shop faster than Pero managed to close the Blacksmiths. You walked along the street, pulling the cloak around your body as you skipped up his steps.

He was standing over a basin, washing his hands. His apron was already hanging on the wall, showing he was done for the day and so you knocked at the door. He turned to face you and if you didn’t know better you would have backed away from his scowl but noticing the lightness in his eyes you stepped in.

“I was thinking we could go to the Inn tonight, they have fish.”

“Fish?” his eyebrows pulled together at your invitation.

“Yes, fish. You don’t get it often in the village,” you explained.

He nodded, drying his hands on a cloth that hung over a hook on the wall.

“No one will mind that we are going together, without your father?”

“It is a small village Pero, most people have went to the Inn together at some point. It also isn’t a very religious village, I don’t know if you noticed that much,” you laughed, reaching for his own jacket to hand him.

He smirked slightly. He had realised that people were a little more relaxed in this village than others he had passed through before. Unmarried men and women were free to be friendly to one another without any lingering chaperone or words of sin. It put him at ease but caused a weight to grow at the bottom of his stomach as he questioned in what way you looked at him.

He looked at you and saw the sun, moon and stars. He wondered what you saw when you looked at him…

“Pero?” you held the coat towards him. He grabbed it grunting a thank you and nodding at the invite.

You both walked to the Inn, the sounds of conversations already buzzing along the street with people finishing their days of work here. When you opened the door your eyes scanned the room finding one empty table left. You nudged Pero with your elbow, nodding towards the table. He moved by you, placing his hand on your waist as he did so, before leading you through the crowd hand in hand. His hand enveloped yours, making you feel even smaller behind him as you followed in his footsteps to the table.

He pulled out a chair, standing back as you sat down, before moving to sit opposite you. The friendly Inn Keeper came over to the table, her warm smile welcoming you both.

“Good job I kept two fish pies aside. Something to drink?”

“Ale, please,” you smiled back and Pero grunted the same to her.

The Inn buzzed around you, men and women drinking at the end of a long day. When the ales arrived Pero listened as you spoke about your day, nodding when you complained about customers and laughing as you told him of the flour explosion. A few ales later, your pies arrived and you eat in silence. You watched as Pero’s eyes glided around the room, one arm wrapped around his bowl protectively as though he was a man still travelling the road. You smiled at him. He truly did not care what anyone thought of him. While this was true you didn’t know there was one exception to that - you. As his eyes fell back on you he sat a little straighter in his chair, eating slower and savouring the taste.

“What do you think?” you nodded to the near empty plate in front of him.

He grunted, nodding back at your plate.

“I love the fish pie here. I wish I could have it more often.”

As you both finished Pero watched how your eyes were closed over a little more than usual. The ale was obviously hitting you as you giggled at any remark he made. You rested your elbow on the table, leaning your head in your hand as you asked him to tell another story from his travels. Your eyes were shining in the candlelight, the lazy smile as you listened to him stretching your cheeks with every laugh that passed your lips. He could stay and watch you for the rest of the night but as he looked out the window, finding the moon already high in the sky he placed coins on the table and held his arm out to you.

You stood from the table, stumbling slightly as you pushed the chair back but Pero’s arm steadying you. He looked down at you, smiling.

“Drunk?”

“N-no, ‘m not drunk,” you said as you held onto his arm a little tighter while he weaved your bodies through the crowd and out the Inn. 

The walk to your home seemed longer than usual as you stumbled through the path, the darkness not helping but you were thankful to have Pero’s arm to hang on to. Around half way through the path he gave up holding you and lifted you into his arms, carrying you all the way into your home. 

He could feel you falling asleep in his arms so walked by the sitting room to your bedroom. It was the first time he had seen it, his eyes scanning around the trinkets that covered the shelves before finally landing on the bed. He placed you gently on the bed before moving to light the fire in your room.

You propped yourself up on your elbows as you watched him light the fire, tilting your head and taking him in. His back muscles strained as he moved the wood around, the back of his neck visible when he leaned forward to blow on the sparks. When he got the fire going he turned on his heels to face you from his crouched position on the ground.

“You should get ready for bed,” he stated simply, moving to walk out the door.

“Wait, Pero. Will you stay tonight?”

The scowl on his face harshened for a moment as he shook his head, “I- I don’t think that is a good idea.”

“Please,” you whispered, “just for company. I- I know what I’m asking, my mind is not that altered by the ale you do not have to worry.”

He thought for a moment, waiting by the door and looking in at you lying on the bed. 

“Just for company,” he nodded.

Pero turned on his heels, moving to the well at the back of the house to pour enough water for you both to wash before bed. When he came back you were already sitting on the edge in your night dress. He had seen you plenty times before but never like this. The loose, white dress stopped halfway down your arms, the neckline lower than any he had seen on you before, the hem only just below your knees. He had seen more of plenty other women before but never like you, the soft skin noticeable under the light of the fire. Your hair was now loose too, falling around your face as it should be.

“I- I  brought water.”

You both knelt by the fire, slowly washing away the day. Pero noticed as you moved to kneel by the bed, your eyes shut and hands clasped as you mouthed a few words before standing again.

“I did not know you prayed,” he noted before pouring the water out of the window.

“Not always,” you pulled the sheets on the bed back before climbing under them, “I pray at the start of spring for a good harvest, at the start of winter for a kind storm, when people fall sick, and when my father travels.”

He nods, moving to lie on the floor by the bed before you grasp his arm.

“I don’t bite,” you tease, pulling back the sheets for him to join you. He looks at the floor and the space next to you in the bed before sighing. 

He removes his outer layers, left with the last layer between him and his skin. You truly notice the muscles in his arms for the first time, hard with years of labour but the skin that covers them soft. He has freckles dotted over them, making you smile as your eyes move down his body. He climbs in next to you, waiting for you to move before he does. You turn to face him and he decides to face you too, looking at your face under the moonlight that streams in through the window.

“You are a very handsome man, Pero,” you say as you let your hands trace his face, running over his strong nose and scar along his eye.

“Kings and Lords are handsome, I am not.”

“Are Kings and Queens, Lords and Ladies the only ones who can hold beauty?”

He shakes his head, reaching up to trace over your own face, “I have met many a Queen and Lady, none come close to your beauty.”

“Well, I have never met a King and very few Lords, but you are the most handsome man my eyes have had the luck to fall upon,” you move forward, holding your breath as you press a kiss to his scar, “goodnight, Pero.”

“Goodnight, hermosa,” he pulls you closer to his chest, waiting until he knows you are asleep before he lets himself dream of you.

Day three

You woke the next morning wrapped in Pero’s arms. Your head lay on his chest, the steady rise and fall comforting you as you let your eyes wake to the world. One of his arms lay off the side of the bed while the other held you close against his side. 

You lifted your hand to trace circles on the part of his chest that was free at the top of his undershirt. He stirred under you for a moment before his eyes opened and found yours.

“Morning,” you whispered.

He grunted, pulling you tighter against his chest as he stretched out in the bed.

You laughed quietly, noticing how he appeared even grumpier at this time in the morning. You pulled yourself away from his warmth no matter how much your body wanted to cling to it.

Groaning as you stood from the bed, you reached your arms up to stretch out your back. Pero’s eyes trailed up your body for a moment before he forced them away upon seeing the soft skin of your thighs. 

Walking towards your small set of drawers, you pulled clothes for the day out before lifting the empty basin from the night before and filling it up. By the time you got ready for the day, setting two bowls of porridge on the table for you and Pero, you walked back to your room to find him sitting on he edge of your bed and playing with his hands.

“I have set some breakfast for us.”

He nodded, following you to the table where you both sat for breakfast.

“Thank you for staying last night, Pero. I- Staying so far away from the village, it’s nice to have the company at night,” you looked down at the bowl in front of you.

“I was worried you would regret it, letting me stay,” his eyebrows pulled together as he searched your face for any sign that you were.

“I don’t, I would never. I like spending time with you, Pero.”

You eyes met for a moment, child-like shy smiles pulling on your lips for a moment before you looked back down to finish the bowls of porridge in front of you.

The walk to work that morning was slightly faster than usual as there was a little more bounce in your step. You even noticed Pero’s usual scowl had been replaced by something lighter. Not quite a smile, no upturn of the lips or relaxing of his eyebrows, but a lightness that was surrounding him.

When you reached the bakers you turned to Pero as usual to say goodbye but this time you stood on your toes, balancing yourself against his arm and placed a kiss to his cheek. You were close enough to notice the pull of his lips before he straightened them again, nodding and turning to walk to his own work.

Everywhere in the village worked a half day today, meaning you did not have to go as long without seeing the handsome man who shared your bed the night before. You both must have had the same thought of finishing work quickly as you met each other between the bakery and blacksmiths.

“Mr Tovar,” you smiled and he laughed back your name.

You spend time enjoying the walk back to your house, looking at all the flowers that were standing straighter in the midday sun. The pollen was dancing in the sunlight that breached the spaces between the tall trees making the whole forest smell like summer. 

When you finally reached the garden you collapsed onto the grass, throwing your hands above your head and letting your legs stretch out. For a moment Pero panicked thinking you had tripped until he noticed the calm look on your face. 

There was a lazy smile on your lips and your eyes were closed as you enjoyed the feeling of the sun on your face. Your palms were turned up, fingers dancing in the sunlight and you kicked your shoes off for your toes to do the same.

“Are you joining me,” you shielded your eyes with one hand as you opened an eye to look up at Pero. 

He tilted his head, taking in the sight before him. He had always thought you were beautiful and light, innocent and happy, but in this moment he was truly in awe of you. Nodding, he lifted his work layers over his head to let his arms feel the sun on them before sitting next to you. He rolled the legs of his trousers up to let his calves feel the warmth too before lying next to you.

For a while, the only sound that filled the air was of the birds singing their spring songs and the nearby river running through the fields. You began to hum under your breath as your head lulled from side to side, feeling the grass tickle your cheeks. 

“What is that?” Pero’s voice came from next to you.

You turned to face him, finding he was already looking at you. His face was much more relaxed than usual, not happy or sad but content as he lay in the sun.

“A lullaby my mother used to sing. I don’t remember the words just the tune.”

“It sounds beautiful.”

You both looked back up to the sky, taking in the tall trees above you and brush your hands along the grass. The side of your hand bumps into Pero’s and you jerk it back towards you for a moment before slowly brushing over the grass back towards his hand. You let your pinky rest up against his, waiting to see if he will pull away. When he doesn’t you let your fingers run across the back of his before locking yours and his together. You hold your breath, waiting to see what will happen. He removes his hand and for a moment you regret your action before he turns his palm over, holding your hand and his against one another. 

You hear the grass rustle as he turns his head to face you again, his free hand reaching across his body to grasp your chin slightly. As he turns your head to face him, he lets his knuckles drag across your cheek. You close your eyes, feeling the heat from his hands and enjoying the feeling of his skin against yours. When you turn your head even more, pressing your lips against his knuckles he freezes, his eyes wide for a moment as he swallows. His hand stays still as he stares into your eyes before he moves to turn onto his side.

You mirror his movements, now both facing one another and hands still locked together between your bodies. His hand stays on your cheek but moves to cup it gently, holding it in place as he lifts his head closer to yours.

You feel your eyes look down at his lips, soft and parted as they come closer to you. When you look back up to his eyes they are now on your lips before flicking back up to yours.

“Is this okay?” he whispers and you nod.

“Please, Pero. Kiss me,” you sigh.

In a moment his lips are on yours, gentle and slow as they press together. He stays still for a moment, taken aback by just how soft they feel on his before he parts his mouth and kisses you. His kiss is soft, making sure to feel every single movement against him and swallow every last sigh that escapes your mouth. When your free hand reaches up to hold his arm tight he pulls your body closer to his, deepening the kiss.

He takes his hand from yours, breaking the kiss to move your bodies so he was now lying back on the grass and your legs were at either side of his, straddling his waist as your head dipped back down to meet his lips once more.

One of your hands balanced on his chest and the other on the grass next to his head as he kept one of his hands on your cheek, his whole palm taking over the side of your face, and other on your waist, rubbing circles gently into your side. His tongue grazed over your bottom lip and you opened your mouth, your own dancing against his until you were both breathless and dizzy. Pero moved his hand from your waist to cup your other cheek, lifting your head back to take in your face.

“Tell me to stop and I will stop,” he looks into your eyes, making sure he was not overstepping.

“Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop. I want you Pero.”

“I need you to tell me what you want,” his eyes moving back to your lips before meeting your eyes again. Pero wanted to feel every inch of you, his cock starting to strain against his trousers at the thought, but he did not want to take more than you were ready to give.

“You, Pero. I want you, if you will have me,” you sighed and leaned down to kiss him again.

You lips moved together in sync, moans falling from your lips before being caught by the other. Pero’s hands moved from your cheeks, gently down your arms and smiling into your kiss when the goosebumps rose in response. They moved down your waist where he gripped at your layers seeking to feel you and they kept moving down to your waist and squeezing before finally finding your thighs and all the way to your ankles, circling your soft skin as they rested at either side of his hips.

When he finally found your skin, he pulled your skirts up slowly, waiting to see if your hands stopped him. His hands finally touched your bare thighs under the skirts, his rough and calloused hands from years of hard labour touching your soft skin, and you moaned into the kiss. A true moan from the back of your throat that you had no control over the minute you felt his hands on you. It was an automatic response like the way your thighs tightened around his waist, rocking slightly to release a pressure that was building inside you.

“Not here,” Pero whispered against your lips, kissing you once on the lips, each cheek and forehead, before lifting your from him and standing, holding his hand out for you to join him.

You followed him quietly as he lead to you the your bedroom, the one he had seen for the first time the night before. 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he reached to hold your face gently.

“Trust me, Pero. This is what I want,” you reached your own hands up to hold over his.

He smiled, kissing you once before standing straight.

“We should wash then.”

The both of you stayed quiet as you start the fire and heat the water, taking turns filling the basin in the corner of your room. Once it was full enough and the right temperature you faced on another next to the tub of water, waiting for someone to make the first move.

You turned and looked at Pero over your shoulder, lifting your hair to show the tied ribbon at the back. He walked towards you slowly, attempting to stop his shaking hands as he reached to pull the ribbon loose. When it came undone he slowly pushed it off your shoulder, leaning down to kiss each inch of skin on your shoulder as it was exposed until he reached your underdress. He let it fall to the ground, moving to stand in front of you holding your hand as you step out of the dress. 

You reach down, grabbing at the fabric of your underskirt and pulling until it you lift it over your head. With your whole body now on show you suddenly feel shy, your arms wrapping around your body to hide some skin. Pero gently shakes his head as he takes your small wrists in his large hands and brings them down to your side, stepping towards you and holding your face in one of his hands. His eyes look down at your body, making sure to notice every mark and curve that covers your soft skin. He pulls the band that holds your hair back, letting it fall free around your face.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead.

Your hands reach up and grab at the end of the tunic, the only layer that was left along with his trousers after taking off his work layers earlier. He raises his arms as you lift it up over his head. You take your lower lip into your mouth as you look down at his body, tan and muscular but soft around the middle. It is littered in scars, one in particular that catches your eye as it crosses one side of his chest. You trace it with your fingers before stepping forward to kiss it gently. You hear Pero sigh as you do so, not seeing the way his eyes close and face relaxes. No one had ever treated him with as much care and love as you had.

You let your hand run down his body only stopping when you reach the waistband of his trousers. He nods and you move to your knees, gently tugging his trousers down with you. You gasp when his cock springs free from the confines, hard and pressed against his stomach already leaking. You hide your face as you work to untie his boots before taking his trousers off the rest of the way, hoping he doesn’t see the redness that covers your cheeks at the sight. 

When you stand back up he holds your chin in his hand, “Have you ever done this before?” You shake your head and try and look down again but his hand stops you. “Do not be embarrassed. We will only do what you want to do.”

Pero steps around you and into the tub, holding your hand in his and letting you join him. It is a small tub and as Pero sits, bringing you to sit between his legs, some of the water sloshes over the side. He holds you close to his chest and lifts the soap, washing it up and down your arms and back before doing his own.

The feel of his skin against yours, soft in parts and rough in others, sends a warmth through your whole body. When his lips finally attach to your neck, placing gentle kisses down it onto your shoulders you can’t stop the moan that leaves your throat. One of his hands rests on your leg running up and down the inside before resting on the crease at the top of your thigh while the other comes up to your chest. He gently squeezes your breast before he catches your nipple between two of his fingers, nipping and twisting until it is hard. Your head rolls back onto his shoulder, looking up at him from below his jaw as his hand moves to give the other the same attention.

“Pero, please,” you gasp, not sure what you are whispering.

“Go lie down on the bed,” he leans and captures your lips in his before releasing your nipple from his hand and letting you stand.

The room is now warm from the fire and you dry your body with a towel as you walk towards the bed. You move to lie at the top with your head resting on the pillow as Pero finishes washing himself before also stepping out of the tub and drying himself. 

He stands at the end of the bed, taking your body in as it shines under the moonlight. You force your arms down on the bed, making sure not to cover yourself in embarrassment. You trust Pero in this moment, more than you have trusted anyone before.

“Can I make you feel good?” he near-growls as he stalks over your body, crawling up so your eyes were in line with one another. You nod and he shakes his head, “I need to hear you say it for me.”

“Please, Pero. Make me feel good,” you whine and he hungrily claims your lips in his.

He kisses down your jaw and neck, sucking on your collarbone before kissing down your body and resting between your legs. He looks up at you as he spreads your legs open for him, keeping them that way with his shoulders. His eyes stay on yours as he kisses and softly nips at the skin on the inside of your thighs, waiting until you were squirming under him before he moved to lick a stripe up your folds. 

Your head falls back against the pillow as he holds you down with one arm draped across your stomach and the other holding your folds open as he licks again and again. His lips finally attach to your clit and he notices the way you gasp, how you whine when he starts slow before panting when he moves faster, eventually finding the rhythm that has you moaning his name like a prayer.

“I want you to look at me,” he lifts his head to speak, waiting until your eyes were back on his before he moved again.

“Please, Pero I- I”

He hummed against you, making your legs shake around his head. There was a warmth building inside you, growing stronger and stronger with every flick of his tongue.

Your hands found their way into his hair, grabbing on to him as he worked. The feeling inside you was stronger than anything you had felt before, like a current running through you from head to toe. 

Pero looked up at you, your mouth open and eyes wide as your body tingles with every move he made. Your shoulders were tensed and he sat up, his hand running up and down your stomach for a moment, “relax, my love. I’ve got you, just let yourself go.”

His head dipped back down and you let your shoulders relax, holding his hand that lay across your stomach while your other hand gripped at the sheets. You made yourself keep your gaze on him, watching as his mouth smirked when you moaned a bit louder.

Suddenly the warmth crashed through your body, your back arching off the bed and legs shaking. Pero kept going, working you through your high and rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb until your back relaxed back against the bed and your thighs stopped shaking. Your eyes had been squeezed shut and as you opened them you found his eyes on yours, full of a softness as you repeated his name out of your mouth.

“Good girl,” he cooed, “you did so good. How was that?” His head rested on your thigh as he waited for you to answer.

“Amazing, Pero. I didn’t know I could feel like that,” you sighed making him chuckle.

“I plan to make you feel like that again, if you wish?”

You nodded and he let his fingers trace down your folds, stopping at your entrance. He pressed one inside, watching as your back lifted off the bed once more before settling after a moment. He watched as his finger pushed in and out of you slowly, waiting for you to adjust before he added another. The sound of your moans was like music to his ears as he picked up the pace a little, attaching his lips back to your bundle of nerves. 

“You are so beautiful, taste so sweet,” he mumbled against your skin.

The same warmth was flowing through your body again and Pero felt you walls tighten against him. He lifted his head, curling his fingers and coaxing another out of you. Your body tensed, his name falling from your lips once again as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of you. His chest swelled as the only word that could fall from your mouth in this moment of sheer bliss was his name.

When you finally relaxed once more he pulled his fingers from you, putting them in his mouth and sucking them clean. You watched him carefully as he dragged both fingers up your folds again, gathering more wetness.

“Do you wish to taste?”

You nodded and he crawled up your body, placing his fingers in your mouth.

“Sweet isn’t it,” he smirked as you hummed around his fingers. He felt the way your tongue flicked over him, wondering how your mouth would feel around his cock but knowing he could try that another day.

He rested himself over you, a forearm at either side of your head. Your eyes looked down between your bodies, looking at his cock that was now red and dripping.

“I want you, Pero,” you whispered against his lips, tasting yourself on him when they finally collided. 

He pulled back, wanting to look you in the eyes as he pushed into you. He shifted his weight onto one forearm, his free hand coming down to line himself at your entrance.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?”

You nodded but upon seeing his mouth open you spoke, “I promise.”

He nodded, pushing in slowly. It took every single bit of strength he had not to fill you completely in this moment but he wanted you to enjoy it and he definitely did not want to hurt you. He waited until you nodded before moving in further each time until he was finally bottomed out. His lips crashed against yours, his tongue exploring your mouth as he felt your walls tighten around him.

“Please, Pero. Move,” you begged, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.

His hand held tightly onto your hip as he wrapped your legs around his waist, starting with slow deep thrusts. You moans filled the room as he growled with each thrust and you gasped each time he filled you completely. Your body was still so sensitive from the two times you had already cum tonight that you could feel another one nearing and as could Pero. 

You looked into his eyes and let the words fall from your mouth.

“I love you, Pero.”

He shook away the tears that were stinging at the corner of his eyes at those words. There was no uncertainty in them, no reason for him to believe that they were only being shared because of the way your bodies were moving against one another. You loved him for who he was.

“I love you,” he whispered back along with your name.

He quickened his pace, swallowing your moans with his mouth. When he felt your body tense around him, holding him in place he kissed down your neck and biting slightly. He pulled out as he spilled his seed over your stomach with a shout of your name, watching the way it glistened on your skin. 

Your legs unwrapped from his waist and arms from his back as he sat back on his heels looking down at you. His chest was rising and falling heavily, every scar that covered his chest and face illuminated by the moonlight. He was perfect, every mark telling a story of how he was brought to you. You knew you would make sure to kiss each one when you had the chance but for now you would let him hold you in his arms.

You looked back down to your stomach, gathering his seed on your fingers before bringing it to your lips to taste. Pero groaned at the sight, something so dirty but by someone so innocent. He watched as your body relaxed more, the moon showing the glint in your eyes as you looked up at him. He reached for a cloth, cleaning between your legs and on your stomach before lying next to you and pulling you onto his chest.

He could already feel your breathing slow and he pulled the sheet over your bodies, hugging you closer to him. You fought off sleep for long enough to lift your head and kiss his cheek, on the scar, and lips one last time before sleep.

“I love you, Pero, so much. Thank you,” you whispered against his chest.

“I love you. You have my heart and soul,” he murmured into your hair, letting the tears of love and joy he had held back release as he fell asleep with you in his arms.

//

Permanent tag // @phoenixhalliwell @asta-lily @hb8301 @princess76179 @sarahjkl82-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl

Pero tag // @bonktime @justpedropascal @coldlilheart @shadowolf993 @stylelovechild @frostsoldier @idreamofboobear @artsymaddie @ajeff855 @strangelittlenobody @elegantduckturtle

[paunchsalazar]

I like writing my journal and my class notes by hand. I don't have preferences for paper as long as it's not that overly smooth paper that is hard to write in. My favorite pen is the Pilot G-Tec-C4 (i swear this is not sponsored) because it's a perfect mix of looking smooth and not taking too long to dry and it generally feels good to write with.

I tend to go for thin pens (and mechanical pencils). 0.5mm is what i usually use, but once i got a very cheap 0.2mm mechanical pencil and i figured i would break the lead really often. Luckily once i got the hang of it, it was harder to break the lead of that one than of my 0.5mm mechanical pencil. I'm still trying to find more leads for it because once i ran out of them turns out 0.2mm leads are hard to find!

When i write fic though i write it all in the computer because i like the feel and the sound of the keys when i get really into it and type fast. I like changing up my fonts once in a while to help bring variety to my writing. I like using templates for books and go through pinterest to search photos for the cover that no one else will see.

My process for writing fic is very messy. I usually begin with a skeleton of excerpts i want to include. I add ideas as they occur to me, and i try to place them in the timeline of the fic as it makes best sense to me in the moment. I begin writing in chronological order once i have a few ideas in the skeleton, and i might continue to add to the skeleton as i write out the first parts.

Once i'm done (if i'm ever done) i begin editing, which is the overwhelming part. I usually realize that i need to rewrite some parts, edit out scenes and write in new ones. But often i also realize that it would be better if i rearranged the order of my scenes, so i often feel like i'm pulling out scissors from my pocket and cutting fabric into pieces only to try to sew it together again. Sometimes i picture myself sitting on the floor with mismatched pieces of fabric around me and i can't make sense of anything as i think 'what have i done'. But it usually works.

(Sorry this is too long, i just got excited about the questions. Also thank you for introducing me to kyokao, i had never thought about it before but once i did. Once i did i cannot unthink it. They make so much sense. It's been living in my mind for weeks. Might end up writing for them at this rate)

omg thank you so much for answering!!!! im sorry it took a bit to reply!

love favorite pens heehee I always have the same Uniball rollerballs for writing and Pentel sign pen for sketching. Such a difference in feel between the tiniest change in size!!!

yes yes!!! I love to know people’s thoughts on fonts! Personally I always use Garamond for the like intended-to-be-used prose, dialogue or a passage etc. and some other font (usually a sans serif) for notes and like - SETTING - beat - should do this - or action notes like (she sits, opens to the page) kinda script style.

I loved the way you describe putting together pieces of fabric!!! also this was not too long at all please I love to hear (read) it all!!! thank you!

(also oh my goodness… welcome to our ranks. I was blind but now I see and somehow it makes so much sense to me… I’m so so glad anyone out there agrees though of course no one is ever obligated to!

there’s all the business during the sports festival and later volumes but I think it especially could work looking back at the scene where they look at the others having fun after the Karuizawa mess and Kyoya asks about Kaoru’s strategy, paraphrasing but: “what your plan worked worked too well and they actually fell in love?” “Oh, it’s too soon for that.”

potential energy… I think it doesn’t have to happen but it could!! perhaps it’s too soon! maybe it’ll take a while!! but who knows… they said it themselves their club is full of dummies!

I have a crazy bullet point into chronological order beat list doc that could be a fic or them if I was smart enough to fully realize it….. maybe!! maybe.. but to do it right would take sooooooo long! slow burns can be magic but they take so much work! and in proper Ouran fashion I think every small thing is an epiphany for these guys lol)

[endobiologist]

Trans Guy Tips #3; Testosterone HRT, How to Inject, & Its Effects On Body & Mind, Pt. 1

Note: I will likely add more sections to this at a later time, as I learn more about taking testosterone and its effects. Be sure to check back!

1. First, and this can change depending on your body type and what your own endocrinologist recommends for you,

but personally for me and for a lot of transgender men, Testosterone Cypionate, usually 200mg each dose, is the best choice, and so is taking the injection form, doing that intramuscularly, and taking them bi-weekly, meaning every other week on the exact amount of time from the time you took your last dose.

My endocrinologist explained to me that this is due to if you overload your body with testosterone constantly, or if you overdose it in an attempt to get more effects, you will instead have the opposite effect where you will instead gain estrogen, and more of it, because testosterone converts to estrogen when there's an excess of it and the body senses it as something wrong!!

So please please never take more than you are supposed to take, prescribed officially by your doctor.

They usually recommend bi-weekly for most if choosing injections, because it makes it so the testosterone spreads evenly throughout your system the entire time, and just has a very even perfect use that makes the effect stronger and it makes your body get used to it quicker, which speeds up the effects significantly, and tends to be the healthiest option.

2. Also in terms of safety, never ever get testosterone from a non-official source like the black market, online, or from a friend. You cannot trust this, as it has not been evaluated medically whatsoever.

Also, most importantly, you don't have a medical professional there to see if your hormones and all your health is correct and good to start or continue, or what dose to take, or which kind works best for your body, as well as not having any checkups, which is also vital when you take a new hormone in your body to make sure everything is balancing right!!!

So it is very dangerous, you could accidentally overdose, or your body could malfunction somehow, or you could just be injecting yourself with stuff that doesn't work ever!!

There are many things that could go wrong, so PLEASE never ever EVER do this.

Get a trans-familiar endocrinologist.

3. Now mind you, there are other options for taking T if you just cannot handle injections whatsoever.

Option one are tablets called subdermal capsules that they implant under your skin, usually under your arm or shoulder skin as it seems to spread the best that way. They will slowly leak testosterone until they replenish themselves and you have to get them replaced.

Some people praise these as they are pretty even in effects, and they make it so you have a steady supply pretty well, and also you don't have to think about it very often as the tablets last quite a while.

The downside is, that despite its evenness quality, it doesn't actually have very strong effects.

It will still give you effects for sure, but it will take a lot longer, possibly multiple years, to see the full effects of it.

There are also things known as topical testosterone, where you can put a gel or cream on yourself and it will dose you with the amount it has in it.

This is the least invasive option, however it's one with a very small amount of testosterone, so it will take some of the longest to feel, or see, effects.

Also, I have heard from some people that if you are having someone else put the gel on you, if they accidentally get it on their skin, it will literally dose them with testosterone, which is not okay if you have someone who is not trans and does not want it doing it.

So if you choose this route, please do it yourself so you're not dosing any more on to other people, and instead just on to yourself.

It also doesn't waste the dose on others that way, and you get the full effects instead.

There is also things known as oral testosterone, taken through pill form. But I have heard some bad things about these, and I have heard recommendations not to use them due to there being a lot of downsides, as it doesn't absorb into your body nearly as well as any of the other options, even the slower ones.

But really what matters is what you need, and what your body needs, so even though injections provide the most amount and the most even supply when you use them, especially bi-weekly as well, it might be different for you as every single trans guy/transmasculine person is different, physically & mentally!

And some things work better for others, so consult with your doctor, and let them know the effects and the timing you want, and they will suggest options for you if you are not able to choose yourself without assistance due to lack of knowledge etc.

I would however recommend deeply researching every section of testosterone as I did, before going to an endocrinologist, so you are very prepared and know which kind you want already which will make the appointment take less time as well.

Also you never want to rely on the information of just one person, so always research.

Don't just trust my guide immediately or anyone's guide if it's just one you read, instead do your own research on many sites & forums, and find what works for you, as I can only say what works/worked for me.

4. And when it actually comes to the fun part, the injections,

I will give you a step-by-step guide on mostly how to have someone else inject you, but you can also take my advice for injecting yourself, however I have no advice for specifics of that, such as ways to calm yourself down from queasiness when doing it yourself, since I have never injected myself due to me honestly being just a little squeamish about doing it myself.

But I've always had my mother do it, and I have watched occasionally to see how best to do it, and have experienced it quite a few times now, so I know which way is the least painful as well.

If I were ever forced to do it myself, that way I would be able to because I know how to beforehand.

Now what you do is when you pick up your prescription of Testosterone, this is assuming if you take it bi-weekly and an injection form, you get two 1 ml bottles (A month's supply) and you have to unfortunately ask for & buy the syringe that comes preloaded with the needles.

Also make sure never to ask for just a needle, cuz they will literally give you just a needle, and no syringe.

It's happened to me before, LOL.

They usually have the syringes & needles in stock almost always, but there are a few occasions where they didn't have the needles.

But it is honestly annoying having to pay for something extra when the testosterone itself doesn't cost anything, yet the injection needles you need to use it do??? Lmao.

However it's not that annoying, because they're actually relatively cheap!

Here in Nevada, with no discounts used, they usually only cost you about like $3 usually, $4 at most, so it's pretty price effective.

5. I strongly recommend this, it was my mom's edition to this by the way, she strongly recommends as well,

that you should wait at least a month before taking your first dose of T.

Even when you just received it!

The reason for this is because sometimes they will be out of testosterone or out of needles, or you won't be able to afford it for whatever reason, you never know and it's so much better to have at least 1 if not 2 backup doses and syringes + needles on hand so you never have to worry about that.

I was impatient and injected the day I got it, and so though I haven't run into a problem yet, it is stressful knowing that if a mistake happens with the injection and the fluid leaks out too much, or something happens, whatever it is, that I won't have a backup dose.

So, I would highly recommend waiting a month or even two before injecting, so you have two doses and you pick it up way before you run out every time.

That's way more efficient.

6. Now although this comes from the point of view of someone who hasn't injected themselves, and only has been injected, I pretty much know how it works so I could if I had to, I would just be squeamish.

And for a lot of people they feel the same, so it's easier to get a family member or a close friend to do it for you, as long as they're always around when you need to take your dose.

Personally I have my mom do it because she's talented at injections due to having reptiles that needed some done the same way.

So, basically, you take everything out of its containers, and make sure not to touch the needle itself ever.

Once everything's out of its containers, then make sure to test if the needle is totally closed onto the syringe.

If it is, it's good to go.

Checking the tightness of the needle is very important because if you don't, you can end up having the needle pop off inside you, and release none of the testosterone actually inside of you, wasting a dose completely & it just hurts like a SOB.

Now, take the cap off the needle.

I would recommend always sanitizing the needle, the syringe, and also having a little gauze pad or paper towel piece, all soaked with rubbing alcohol to sterilize the area you will be injecting, so there is no risk of infection at all.

Although not extremely important, I'd recommend you'd also want to bring a tiny Band-Aid.

It will be a very very tiny wound, more like a dot, but it actually bleeds quite a bit after, due to it going deep in, so it's helpful to put a Band-Aid on just for the first hour or so, then take it off and let it breathe, and it heals super quick. It'll be gone before, or by the next day, usually.

Please remember not to touch the needle ever as it'd ruin its sterilization. They're usually sterilized, but it might be a good idea to sterilize them again just in case, to basically make sure there is no risk of infection whatsoever.

Also this is just a common sense cleanliness rule,

but I still want to state it to make sure people know;

Always throw away every single needle and syringe you use, as soon as you are done using it.

Do not keep it or EVER re-inject with the same needle.

And also be sure to throw away any testosterone you have left that is excess from your dose.

You do not need that, as it goes bad and won't work after being exposed to air, so it's impossible to save and use later, unfortunately.

Now, you will be injecting intramuscularly in the leg, either leg will do, hell you can switch them up each time if you'd like. It doesn't matter much.

This means you will be injecting on the area of your thigh that is a little high up, and towards the top, but a little to the outer side.

This means the testosterone is injected straight between the muscles, and goes to the bloodstream quickly also, when you inject.

Now you want to remove the lid from the Testosterone Cypionate bottle, and shake It up very very good, so that there are no bubbles, no particles visible in the Testosterone, and no oil separation either.

If it looks completely clear, or is a slight yellowish colour but mixed together well, then you're good to go.

The possible slight yellowish color comes from the cottonseed oil that they use to store the testosterone correctly in.

It makes it to where you have to use a little bit of a bigger needle to inject yourself with, but it's actually a very very small needle and it's not painful very much at all.

A lot of myths I read about testosterone before I received it said the needles were huge and scary and painful, but the truth is they're not at all, even to me who's slightly scared of needles and has low ability to tolerate pain.

Literally, popping a zit hurts worse than the injections.

The pain is something like a very tiny ant bite, or a slight pinch on your skin, it doesn't really hurt very much at all.

In fact, whenever I take mine, even the very first time I did, I didn't even make a sound! And it's over very quickly, as well.

I would recommend for the easiest time however, for a little higher price, getting a 21 gauge syringe needle, and also an 18 gauge syringe needle for each dose you take.

The 21 gauge is larger for drawing up the testosterone from the vial easier than the 18 gauge would.

Then you remove that 21g needle from that syringe, and instead put on the 18 gauge for the actual injecting.

If you want a cheaper price tag, and/or you're just lazy like me, you can get away with using just an 18 gauge needled syringe, however it makes it much significantly harder to draw up out of the vial.

It is still quite possible, but is for sure challenging, mistakes can occur so be very careful if you choose this route.

Now when you're trying to draw up the Testosterone Cypionate out of the bottle, you want to hold it upside down, or downward at an angle kind of diagonal, and you want to make sure the needle is visibly in the liquid.

Then, you draw back slowly, but try and fill it as much as you can. You can always dispose of extra that you don't need.

If using only the 18 gauge like said earlier, which is what I personally do, it is very hard to draw up out of the bottle, so be very careful, and try to figure out the trick to it, is all I can say.

Everyone has a different trick for it.

Don't use all the testosterone in the bottle however for your actual being-injected-dose.

You need to usually use only 75 mL of the 1 ml bottle each dose.

Also before you ever inject, but after you fill the syringe, make sure to aspirate the needle, which means to act like you're injecting it, in the air pointing up, needle upwards, and you very slowly push down, which expels a little bit of the testosterone, but you also expel any air particles or bubbles that are trapped inside.

This is why you want to put a little more in the syringe than you actually will inject, because when you aspirate the needle some will leak out and make it the perfect amount to inject, rather than losing it an amount of it that you need.

If there is even a single bubble inside the syringe, that can cause a heart attack, and many other deadly problems!!!

So do not ever inject, if there is a bubble in your syringe.

If there is, best case scenario is you try to aspirate it heavily, even if you need to then refill it somewhat afterwards, the most important part is making sure no air bubbles are in it.

If there is no way to get the bubble out, you'd need to buy a new syringe, as it most likely has a deformation of some kind.

But that's the worst case scenario, and personally I haven't experienced that yet.

That, however, is why it is so important to aspirate, to make sure there's no air left in the syringe before you inject.

Now you want to make sure to get exactly .75 ml, that you put it up to the line right before 1 ml and that's about the amount you need.

And remember; never take more than prescribed, it will have the opposite affects you want.

Now that you know all the details, here is how to perform injecting the actual testosterone.

You take the needle to the sterilized area of thigh that you cleaned with the rubbing alcohol.

And you can either use a kind of sideways diagonal position to go in, or you can use straight on.

I find straight on makes it much less painful for me, so I usually go with that, but either way works, and whatever is most comfortable for you is what you should use.

Now you just go in kind of slowly, and try not to move the needle around too much, just push slowly all the way in 'till the needle is completely in the leg.

Then dispense slowly the testosterone to the intramuscular area, and once all the testosterone is out of the syringe and inside your bloodstream, pull it out very slowly, all the while holding the skin around it firmly, so that it doesn't hurt as much pulling it out. If you pull it out fast it fuckin' hurts.

You can also sterilize the area of injection again, if you want, but it's not really necessary.

Then, you just put that Band-Aid previously mentioned on, for like an hour, and you're good!

7. Now for the effects of testosterone, though I don't have a perfect timeline. But around one DAY in, I noticed for some reason my clitoral growth where your clitoris pretty much changes into a tiny penis except the urethra doesn't move unfortunately without surgery.

It can grow one to two inches at max, although I have not experienced that much yet.

However for some reason I had definitely experienced minor clitoral growth pretty much as soon as I took my first shot of testosterone, which is incredibly rare, as it's supposed to happen six months to a year in and be one of the later effects!! But for some reason, it was the first effect I got, so that really goes to show that everyone is built quite different, so some things in this guide might not be totally accurate for everyone.

1 week in, I started experiencing a very hoarse voice, not a sore throat or anything, but just where your voice sounds like you're sick or you're losing your voice, for some reason.

This is the first step in your voice changing to a deeper baritone.

It's usually not painful whatsoever, but I have heard from some people that it can irritate their throat occasionally due to the foreign feeling of it, this stage doesn't last very long though.

Then, about 1 month in, I started noticing extensive hair growth. Also I seem to have got way darker hair than any of my family members ever had, and way more hair than they ever had, so you can't totally rely on the predictions of what your family looks like to see how you're going to change.

You kind of have to be ready for anything to happen, but usually the hair growth and the masculinity of your family will almost always pass on to you when you transition physically.

This can even include male pattern baldness eventually.

Sometimes it happens to trans men immediately after taking it, other times it will take years and other times it will be when they're elderly like cis men have.

Personally, I have not seen any male pattern baldness yet, however my front l of my hair slightly receded back and in the shape of male members of my dad's side of my family, but nothing like a total receding hairline.

It still looks like a full head of hair!

Usually you can tell what type of hair you get by looking at your family members closely.

If your family includes a lot of thick hairy people naturally, then you are going to usually get very large amounts of hair.

If you have a family with barely any hair, or very light coloured hair, you'll usually get a small amount of hair or a large amount of hair but with light colour. Personally, I got real lucky so it's clear that there are exceptions, but that's usually how it goes is that you can look to your family members as to how you're going to look and sound like.

About 3 months in, my voice started really deepening and I mean really deep. But the funny thing about it is that sometimes it will switch from being really low and masculine and amazing, to being kind of regular like before, to a little low but not super low, and even to what I call the "permanent helium" which makes you literally sound like you inhaled helium but it's literally just your vocal cords cracking that bad from growing to a male length.

Sometimes it will crack in a way where you can't stop talking in that high pitch, and it's really awkward, but it is also really funny if you learn to laugh at yourself, and always remind yourself that this is the process of gaining a deeper voice.

I have heard that vocal training to make your voice deeper also helps exponentially for more effects if you want a super deep voice.

About 4 to 5 months in, which is where I'm currently at, I've experienced way more hair growth!

Even more so than the start of it.

My head hair seems to be thicker and healthier for some reason, I'm not sure why because I have never heard of that affecting your head hair, its texture, or its thickness like that?

But it seems to have happened, so I guess it's possible?

I'm gaining a moustache and a few beard hairs, but mainly my moustache is super dark and already very visible.

Also due to my moustache and my deep voice alone, now I can already pass pretty much 100% of the time if maybe 99%, and I'm a very naturally baby-faced person too, so that's impressive!

My voice is mainly settled into a pretty deep baritone.

It still has a little bit of a high pitch sometimes, but barely.

I can tell there's a little more progress needed, but not much.

I don't do the helium thing as much as I used to, but it does still occasionally occur as lengthening your vocal cords, which is what occurs when you take testosterone, can be a lengthy and frustrating process at times.

I have also specifically seen lots of body hair at this time, way more than the sparse amount at first, including even a happy trail and a little bit of chest hair although it's not noticeable yet unless you squint, but it still has way more than I used to!

Also my hair on my arms, and especially on my legs, is thick, dark and everywhere.

I've also noticed my fat is starting tk begin redistributing a little bit.

It's not totally doing it yet, but it's getting close, as my thighs, hips, and behind area lost a bunch of weight, while my stomach gained a little bit of weight and so did my arms.

I also gained a fair bit of muscle as not only can I see it when I flex, but also I can lift things a little easier than I used to, and muscle seems to develop easier for me, even when I work out barely.

I've never been a very physical person, so it's still hard, but it's way easier now that I take testosterone.

Those are all the effects I have to record right now, as I'm only 4-5 months in, but I will update this with new parts as I experience more and more.

Also, please take all effects and timelines with a grain of salt, because everybody works differently.

Also I specifically was mentioning Testosterone Cypionate, bi-weekly injection form, so if you take testosterone in a different way, some of this might be different, irrelevant or even completely useless to you, but I am only able to provide information on these forms as they're the only form I've taken of it myself.

Now, to quickly dispel a few stupid myths that circulate around taking testosterone, to ease your worries.

Myth #1. "Testosterone makes you aggressive, violent, and a bad person!"

The truth is that testosterone does not change who you are, whatsoever.

It can however change certain little preferences like for example what flavor food you like will sometimes change, but usually not all foods, just a couple, or sometimes even just one.

It can change little tiny details, like maybe your favorite colour may change, and it definitely does have its emotional effects for sure, but it does not make anyone aggressive or violent automatically.

Testosterone is not an angry hormone, and estrogen is not a peaceful hormone, despite what most people stereotype them as being, so just blanketing everyone under the term of "aggressive" because they have testosterone in them is straight-up incorrect at best, and also sexist at worst.

Estrogen is not better than testosterone. Testosterone is not better than estrogen. It just matters what you want in your body.

What it may actually do is sometimes, people will experience a wide variety of emotions, including extreme euphoria and confidence (that's the effect I seem to have had, thankfully!)

Other people however will get very emotional and sad and will cry over things easier, and no, that's not an estrogen trait, testosterone can do that too.

And sometimes, on a rare occasion, people can get more irritable or cranky. But they're never violent.

They just get a little grumpier than usual.

However, all these emotional effects eventually do phase out and stabilize, and you'll be back to all your regular moods.

You never truly change who you are as an individual, and your beliefs and morals will stay the same.

It's not like you will completely change into a different person, you will never have to fear that, nor should any of your family and friends.

Myth #2. "Testosterone is steroids, right? So doesn't that mean that you're stronger than everyone else?"

This is a ridiculous notion, and I'm not even sure how it got spread im the first place, but I've heard it firsthand, and it's really as stupid as it sounds.

Testosterone is not steroids, they may have some similar properties due to chemical makeup, but they are not in any way steroids.

Steroids are an addictive & potentially harmful drug. Testosterone is a naturally occuring hormone that we all have some of.

For instance, testosterone also does not make you any more muscular just automatically.

It can make you a little more muscled subtly due to the muscle structure changing to that of a cis man's, but it can't straight up make you jacked, that's just not possible.

Also it does not make you any stronger than anyone else.

It might make you a little stronger than a cis female, but you are not stronger than a cis man, in fact you're weaker, due to starting out assigned female at birth.

I'm not sure why people assume that if you take testosterone, that means you're strong??

Because you're taking testosterone because you don't have any so clearly you don't have very much.

I'm not totally sure where this silly notion got spread, possibly as a way to make trans people feel guilty for taking T, by making them think it's a drug, and it's just not when you look at the facts.

It's good to dissuade folks who think this way, from this notion, as it can also make us look like drug addicts or on steroid pills, which both are just completely false.

Testosterone is not even addictive.

It's a natural hormone inside your body.

Myth #3. "Testosterone will give you all forms of cancer, and strokes and heart attacks, almost certainly!"

I'm not sure where or how this got spread either, it is true that it is possible, they said, in a scientific study, that they can't confirm completely that it could theoretically make your chances of stroke and heart attack a little higher due to your system basically changing to that of a cis man's, and going through a cis man's puberty.

But honestly, you have less risk of strokes and heart attacks than even cis men do, and you don't have a prostate which is a common location for men to get cancer, so you actually have an advantage over most!

It's very rare that you would ever come into contact with one of these things happening, pretty much as rare if a little less as it would be if you didn't take T at all.

There is also no evidence whatsoever that testosterone causes cancer, of any kind, let alone all of them.

A lot of people have tried to spread this rumour, to stop people from getting HRT treatment, which is really cruel and fucked up, and a lot of parents will use the "cancer" excuse as a way to not give their child HRT.

The truth is that it does not cause cancer, and that is a complete myth.

There's actually some evidence that being on T might improve your chances of fighting cancer, and having a stronger immune system for it as well.

Myth #4. This kind of goes along with the other one, but some people believe that "If you take testosterone, you could be shortening your lifespan by many years!!"

This is complete speculation, nothing has been confirmed.

It's possible, perhaps, that it could shorten your lifespan by a couple years, but not many.

You still would have an advantage over cis men again.

But it's never been truly proved that your lifespan gets shorter from T, so there is no reason to fear less of your life occuring just because you're trying to make yourself happier.

All right, I think that's all the rumours I can set straight, and all the info & advice about injections and medicine and general information about testosterone that I can give you at the moment.

I will update this post later, so please check back again in maybe a few month's time from now, as then I will have more effects to discuss.

But if I want to leave you with anything to think about,

remember that testosterone is a completely safe and natural chemical hormone that produces itself in your body already.

You just don't have enough of it to look the masculine way you want to.

It is not dangerous, it won't hurt you and if you really want it, go after it!!

But I would also very much advise you to be sure you want to go ahead with it, and that you are okay with all effects happening.

Because if you aren't, if you are even the least bit hesitant, not only will the doctor not allow you to proceed because you are not mentally fit to yet,

but also if you did end up taking testosterone then you could end up getting effects that you don't want, and having them be permanent, and causing you dysphoria for the rest of your life.

So please, make sure to know yourself well, and know your wants and needs clearly.

I also highly recommend having a psychiatrist or a mental health therapist for quite a while before going into testosterone therapy.

Not only does it make you more qualified to acquire testosterone because it shows you actually thought it through, but also it is exceedingly helpful for the mental and physical changes you will be proceeding with over these next years.

The last thing I want to say, my closing note, is congratulations on your testosterone, if you received it!

And I hope my guide helped in any way, and apologies if it ended up really long this time, there's a lot of things you need to know about T.

Thank you for reading, and I hope this humble trans guy's journal entries help you at all.

- Atom T. L. Yorke

[crown-anon]

@hearts1ck my beloved

November 1st

CW: explicit; more CWs under the cut

format: one-shot

people: GeorgeNotFound

pronouns: he/him; reader has male anatomy; more specifics under the cut

edited 14 March 2021

anonymous asked

consider. okay. CONSIDER. consider masochist george. okay?? okay. okay LISTEN.

I think I have a problem with gimmicks also. because. because. ever since strawberry milk george, I. I have not stopped thinking about strawberry flavored lube. because! listen okay hear me out.

(this is absolutely 110% a response to discovering that you share a birthday with him. what of it?)

I know everyone likes pillow princess george and. that's okay. that's FINE. these are not mutually exclusive.

george looking up at you with The LookTM wearing some pink strawberry milk lingerie. not even lingerie really! just something cute like that

& him being like. "I know you love me 👉👈 but I need you to fuck me like you don't"

so I was. thinking. that brat george is the exact kind of person to say (playfully & consensually) "but I don't wanna give you head, I just wanna fuck >:(" after you've got him worked up, maybe from teasing him throughout the day, or edging him a little. but you still need some type of lube. so you go to apply the first bottle you see and he's pink when he asks you "😳 is that ... strawberry ... ?" and you're confused like ??? bro you just asked me to fuck you into next week why're you interested in the flavored lube

but. but listen. he would get so enthusiastic about it. at first it's just "maybe I can stand to eat them out just a little bit before ..." and then after you come the first time it devolves really, really quickly into the need to just. take care of you. and it stretches on until you've come three or four times, and you're still shaking, and he's just. completely gone in subspace

hmm ... george climbing up onto your lap when he's done with you, going in to give you a kiss, and he tastes like strawberry. and he ends up moaning right into your mouth because he's been so horny but so? understimulated?? that he outright jumps as soon as his dick grazes your thigh. it would only take a couple stuttery grinds before he's finishing on both of your stomachs

and he's just so cute when comes, or when he bites down on your shoulder to keep himself quiet. and it's your birthdays. so, you decide you'll give him a reason to cry. and he'll finally get put in his place! it's a win-win for both of you!!

istg every time I send you an ask I discover something new about myself. you. you have made a dreamteam simp out of me. I am but a shell of the man I once was. I think I should thank you? [👑]

hearts1ck

i say this nearly every time you send stuff in but...... by god you own my soul. all of it. this – i – first of all, the implications of masochist george losing his fucking mind when you’re rough with him? guhhhfjklgjgf. and ,..d,,f,,, ,, ,, george in pink lingerie. i. i . a... pink satin slip maybe or .... ohghfd; oh my god those. that cat panty/bra set. im ascending im losing my brain as i type this i cannot –

okay im back on earth. he’d get into that rhythm and settle like liquid while he gets to work on you, and his subspace face is so self-satisfied and nearly smug so he’s just having the time of his life,,, and he makes such a loud noise when his dick twitches against your thigh and maybe... JUST MAYBE he whimpers extra watery when you drag his hips to grind against where you’re wet and dripping/your spent cock as if he’s the one who’d get overstimulated by it. when he finally leans away, eyelids heavy, you gently fit your hand over his jaw and ask, “did you even ask? it’s one thing to come without permission, but not even caring to ask? georgie, i might just be offended,” and he whines “green”s against your neck before you even check-in

and because u made it abt both of our birthdays ,,,, spanks for each year we’ve been alive methinks ??? and then the scratch down his ass gets him hard again and he’s so embarrassed by it, ,,, , ,, ,, ,, ,, ,

also thank god you’ve joined the george boat. i’m so proud of myself for hopefully being part of the reason you got dragged over here HJFKDHSKD

#👑 anon #(my beloved) #keep #anon thoughts: george #redsick #SHAWTY WANT THE WHOLE CREW SHAWTY BAD

as soon as you said birthday spanks I decided I had to write more about this. and I was going to leave more snippets in your askbox like the fucking gremlin creature I am, but then my thoughts started. actually having structure? and then I started writing it. and I tried to do homework and write on study breaks only but. I just kept coming back to this. this is the polar opposite of writer's block. I think I'm cursed or something. so here I am rushing to finish this so that I may rest in peace!!

yes I've been writing nonstop since I sent you that ask. what of it. what the fuck of it.

when I said I discover something new about myself every time we interact, I. I'm serious. I think I might be insane or something. I'm way too sadistic. you'll see. what the fuck is this? what the fuck did I just write??

this would have done so much critical psychic damage if I had posted it on November 1st in real life, but mental illness says I can't let my horny thoughts rattle around in my brain for that long. so!! it's you guys's problem now xoxoxo

I'm not fucking proofreading this. love you though 💗

I did end up proofreading actually. oops! looks like posting at 23:00 isn't always a good idea.

November 1st

CW: explicit, anal (kind of vague), bondage (collar + leash), corruption, domspace (I think??), edging, handjob, humiliation, masochism, oral, praise, sadism, spanking, subspace, swearing. I call George a whore and a slut at least once. and also, George calls yellow at one point. this one kind of surprised me so just. Be Careful. I cannot believe I wrote this. I don't know where this came from.

format: one-shot

people: GeorgeNotFound

pronouns: he/him; I use the word "sir;" reader has male anatomy; I use the words "cock," "dick," and "head;" reader can ejaculate

—

dawn shines through drawn curtains, illuminating the tile floor and your robed figure reflecting off it. batter sizzles in the skillet as you flip the last pancake over. this side looks golden brown, like honeycomb or caramelized sugar. that delicious, freshly-baked fragrance mingles with scented candles. it's perfect, you smile. he's going to love it.

you lift the pancake with a spatula, stacking it on top of the others on his plate. you bring it to his seat at the table, along with the butter, the syrup, the honey, the jam…and you go to pour him a drink.

"hey baby," you greet warmly to the sleepyhead rubbing his eyes in the entryway, still clinging to a pillow. his hair's a mess, only wearing socks and a sweatshirt that reaches down past his thighs. you reckon he'd only just crawled out of bed.

"morning…" he yawns, stumbling past you to take his seat.

"milk?" you ask, he only nods. "did you sleep okay?"

he hums affirmatively. "I…can we…"

one track mind, you joke inwardly. but you don't blame him. "of course," you open the fridge.

you hear him pause. "…is it too early for that?"

"no, no!" you give him a lighthearted laugh. "I kind of expected it, to be honest…I want it, too."

he's silent under the noise of you rummaging through the fridge. "I—"

"sorry—it looks like all we have is strawberry milk. is that alright?"

"yeah…yeah, that's alright. I…actually…wanted to try something new." you shut the fridge, he's fidgeting in his seat.

"hit me with it," your expression is gentle. you pass his cup off to him, but he holds his hand over yours a little too long, looking up at you.

"fuck me like you hate me."

you don't know if it's hearing him swear, or the way he said it so calmly, or how he closed his eyes and swallowed hard before his tone could dip down into something lower. but like a match in an torrent of gasoline, suddenly you're burning up.

you only realize you're staring when he bites his lip and looks down. you start to say something, but the words don't form.

he laughs nonthreateningly, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. "is that a yes?"

you laugh with him. "I…yes, absolutely yes." you turn back around to make your own stack of pancakes. "you should eat first, though."

"what?" he teases. "will I need the energy?"

you smile. "yeah. I think you will." you can practically feel him open his mouth in protest, but he stays silent after that.

and it stays mostly silent while you cook your pancakes. you hear the clinking of his fork on his plate, but it isn't very disruptive. it sounds like he's hurrying to finish his food.

when you go back to the table with your own platter, he's already done eating. he's red down to his neck, fidgeting with the hem of his sweatshirt, looking at you expectantly. you spot a pair of tassels peeking out from under it, just below his hip bones. is that…

he pulls the hem up just a bit, holding your gaze. he smiles, apparently satisfied watching your face heat up.

"I—you should go…go get ready," you manage. he gets up before you even finish your sentence, only stopping to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

except it isn't quick, when he slides his hand down to rest firmly on your collar, and leans in to trail kisses down your neck. "a-and leave that on," you stutter.

he pauses, just under your jaw. "leave what on?" he murmurs.

your breath catches, you shut your eyes. "whatever the fuck it is you're wearing under there."

he's hardly grazing your skin, but you can feel how hot he is next to you. it takes all of your willpower not to shiver.

he pulls back quickly, only his hand lingering. "I don't know what you're talking about." and just like that, he disappears into your bedroom.

you reach up a hand tentatively to your collar, hot to the touch. I'm in way too deep, you decide, and force yourself to take a bite of your food despite your nerves.

—

"that," you hiss. "that fucking outfit. that."

"oh, this?" he bites his lip, hooking his thumb in the keyhole. "this's just what I went to bed in last night."

"fuck you. we both know that isn't true."

he tugs gently on his top, pulling it a little to the side. "what's the big deal? can't I wear something special for my birthday?"

"it's special, all right," and you leave it at that, opting instead to slot between his legs where he sits waiting on the edge of the bed. you bring up a hand to cup his jaw, brushing your thumb across his cheek. you'll never get enough of the way he looks at you, like you're intoxicating.

…? you frown.

"is something…missing?" he perks up instantly at "missing."

"what…?" he chooses his words carefully.

"the collar—your collar. where is it?" you turn away to start going through your bedside table, but the way his lips quirk up into a sly smile isn't lost on you.

that's lube…that's a vibrator…where the fuck is it…? "w-what collar?" he stumbles over his words.

your mind jumps to say, the collar that came with that outfit, or I know you know what I'm talking about, but you won't give him the satisfaction. you decide to speak a little darker, only a firm "George." you hear him swallow.

"w-well," his voice is shaky, "you only told me to leave on whatever I was wearing under my shirt. and…I wasn't wearing that collar at breakfast…s-so technically…"

you stop looking immediately. you turn to take him in, legs crossed, stance confident, but expression showing uncertainty. you can see the regret on his face. "get up." he takes a shallow breath. "get up."

"I'm—"

"don't I'm sorry me," you snap. "you look for your fucking collar on your own."

he slips off the bed, looking ashamed, but starts digging through the drawer all the same. "I really am sorry," he murmurs. you take his place sitting on the bed. he finds what he's looking for rather quickly: a simple white leather collar with a bell, and a leash. he hands them off to you shyly. "um, here…"

"good boy," you praise. "kneel."

he shuts his eyes and does as he's told. you can see the bliss wash over his face just at being ordered around. his lips part a little as he lets out a heavy breath. if only I knew what this would do to him, you muse, I'd have done this ages ago.

you fasten the collar, revelling in how he shivers at the gentle sensation of cold leather hanging around his neck. you leave it a little bit loose, but still comfortable, and hook the leash in its place. he sits obediently still on his knees, looking deep in thought.

"Oh, I know what I'm gonna do to you," you bait. "how old are you today?"

"mmm. twenty-five." he looks down.

you smile, holding tight onto the leash. "I'm gonna edge you. twenty-five times."

he flinches away immediately, yet hums in pleasant surprise when the leash snaps taught. the bell jingles stiffly. "no way. that's way too much."

"I think you should've thought about that before you wore that to breakfast," you decide, tugging a little. he's caught off-guard and stumbles forward, stopping himself by leaving a clumsy pair of kisses on the inside of your thigh. the metal and leather feel refreshingly cool against your feverish skin. "we've got all day, baby."

you expect to hear some kind of protest, you're crazy. or a playful taunt, I'm better off doing this by myself. but he knits his brows and openly moans at the thought. "all day…" he repeats.

he looks up at you, almost pleading, and you can hear the resignation in his voice when he whispers "alright."

"get up here," you command. "on top of me." as he climbs up into your lap, a little too eagerly, you add, "and take your dick out."

you shrug your robe off your shoulders while he's working on his panties, and without thinking, you ask, "color?"

he stops, leaving his head poking cutely over the waistband. he looks up at you again. "…what?"

"um…color," you explain. "like, how are you doing? is this okay? I don't actually want to hurt you. uhhh…green means good, yellow means slow down, and red means stop."

he stifles a laugh. "you're such a nerd. I'm okay."

"alright." you blush a little. "we can stop whenever you need to. this is for you…" you think of something horribly unsexy to say. "…birthday boy."

now he's really laughing, with his whole body. you think the way it makes his collar jingle is cute. "oh my god. shut up. just shut up," his expression turns serious, and he drops to a whisper, "and fuck me."

that got you hot again. you pull him by the leash into a kiss, you bite his lip, you eat him up. and you grab the both of you together with your other hand, you moan in tandem. you can feel how you took him by surprise in the way he twitches under your thumb, the way he leans into you with his whole body. you part from the kiss and he leans back on his heels, panting hard, holding on to your shoulders for support. you can feel him shaking a little.

when you move your hand all the way up the first time, you squeeze both of your heads gently, and he practically falls into you. muffled in the crook of your neck, he begs, "god, do that again."

so you do. again. and again. what was a string of stuttered breaths turns into a single broken moan as you jerk the both of you off. when you think you're getting close, you let go of yourself to focus all your attention on him.

"fuck, sir," he whines—hahaha, that sir made your cock leak a little. he shut his eyes tight. "I-I-I think—I think I'm—"

just like that, you stop, and he goes slack, practically laying on you. but he doesn't grind back, or even move to touch himself. that won't last very long.

you let him come back down, knowing edging takes a lot out of you; maybe even more so than actually coming does. slowly but surely, his breathing steadies. you rub between his shoulderblades affectionately, still trying to ground yourself, too.

once you've found your voice again, you question, "are you gonna count for me?"

he makes a sound against your skin, somewhere between excitement and fear. "…o-one." you revel in how fucked-out he sounds already.

"one what?" you prod.

he seems at a loss, like he's forgotten himself, what he said. after a minute or two of pondering, he catches on. "…sir."

it's your turn to moan. your dick jumps at the honorific, still mostly untouched against your stomach. "good boy." and you dive back in. twenty-four to go.

—

it's noon. you're working on nineteen. and your partner's getting much more…expressive. he's started biting his hand to keep himself quiet, but he's still…

"I-I—oh fuck, I'm—fuck, I-I'm—I'm—" he whimpers through his teeth. and he yelps, whole body shaking, bell jingling incessantly, when he comes all over your hand and stomach.

you take your hand off him immediately, and this time he does try to reach down, ride through it, but you grab both his wrists to stop him. he grinds down uselessly against your thigh and your dick. although you're still hard, and only a hairline trigger away from coming yourself, it doesn't stop you from keeping this brat in line. you only bite your lip and close your eyes.

he leans his forehead against yours, moving in to give you a kiss, but you push him away.

"did you never learn how to fucking count?" you growl.

he winces. "I-I-I-I'm…I'm sorry—"

you scowl at your hand, covered in come. "here, slut," you raise it up to his lips. "clean this off for me."

he tears up a little, but takes your fingers into his mouth all the same. pretty quickly, though, he spits them back out.

"it doesn't taste good…" he complains.

"oh? oh, it doesn't?" you mock. "but it felt good, when you came without my permission, like a cheap fucking whore."

a couple of tears spill over, roll down his cheeks, yet he says nothing, only moving back in to lap his come off your hand. you can see it in his expression that he's not very happy about it, but he doesn't protest further.

"is this good enough, sir?" he asks, when it seems that he's gotten it all. it looks clean enough, you agree. you grab him by the chin, hooking your thumb in his mouth. you don't even have to tell him to suck.

"you come without my approval again, and it's over. you can go back to playing minecraft—or what-the-fuck-ever—with your friends for your birthday. do you want to sleep on the couch, Georgie?"

if he wasn't crying before, he's definitely crying now. he doesn't shake his head, but he circles your fingertip with his tongue enthusiastically, as if to say, I'll be good, I'll be good this time, looking up at you doe-eyed.

"bend over for me," you demand. "across my lap."

he does so immediately. he slips a little bit while he's changing positions, you hear the bell ring, and he scrambles to correct himself. he settles with his ankles crossed and his head in his hands, propping himself up on his elbows. you feel a little bad, you admit, but you won't budge; he has a safeword, you trust that he'll use it.

"let's try that again," your tone softens. "I want you to count for me, okay?"

he nods.

you pull his panties to the side, pause briefly, and bring down your hand with a satisfying smack.

"ohhhhhh—" he moans, jolting a little. "—holy shit, did you just spank me?"

your stomach drops, you go to rub him gently where you just hit him. "is that okay—?"

"it's hot, it's so hot, fuck," he shifts in your lap. "um, sorry…one."

seriously, something about hearing him swear awakens something in you, every time. you're fired up. you spank him again.

"mmm—two…" is he…? "three…"

you pause to massage his ass again, and to speak. "you're…you're hard again, aren't you?"

you didn't even spank him yet, but he lets out a moan. "fuck, I—I just. I want you. I want this. so, so much."

you wonder if this is actually the same George who was fidgeting with his pillow in the dining room this morning.

"you're so bad, getting turned on by something like this," you tease. he only moans in response.

"four—five—six—seven…" he chokes out. "it's starting to sting…"

you take a break, kneading the skin where your angry red handprint is starting to take shape.

"eight…nine…but god, it hurts so good…" he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. "ten…"

at ten, you linger for a moment, holding a handful of his ass. "does it?"

"yes—yesyesyes," he buries his face in the pillow, and shivers. "fuck, eleven…twelve…"

you pull his panties down to his knees, and switch sides. he lifts his hips up, so I can reach him better, you guess. you don't miss the telltale glint of a butt plug, but you'll get to that later.

"thirteen—fourteen—fifteen—sixteen," he moans between slaps. he's gripping the pillowcase so hard his knuckles are white.

in this new position, the way he jumps with every hit makes his cock brush against yours just right. fuck, you're still hard from earlier. this time you're the one who whimpers.

"seventeen, eighteen," he pauses, breathless. you pull gently on his leash, he arches his back and moans, "n-nineteen." his bell jingles.

he grinds down, just for a moment, and the friction is delicious. you're a little dizzy, you think you might've thrust back. you both sigh at the feeling.

"…t-twenty…see? I-I can count…I'm a good boy…I'm good for you…aren't I?"

"you are," you murmur, but you aren't sure he hears you. "you're so good…"

"twenty-one—twenty-two…I-I feel like I haven't done anything right today…twenty-three…"

"…George…?" you hear a muffled sob.

"twenty-four…" he mumbles.

"George?" you start to get concerned. he just keeps crying. "hey…" you whisper. you gently prompt him to turn him over; the pillow's a little wet. you pull the panties off all the way, and get him out of the bra, which had a little stray come on it. you help him sit up in your lap, and pull him into a hug.

"am I really just a whore…?" he asks brokenly.

"you've been so good for me, baby. you've done everything I've asked." you wipe his tears away with your thumb. "are you okay?"

"but I—" he coughs. "—I came too soon, I came without your permission…"

you kiss his hair, and hold him to your chest. "you've been so patient. I'm proud of you."

he finally wraps his arms around you. "I-I'm sorry."

"nonsense," you reassure. "your comfort takes priority. are you okay? color?"

"I…" he searches for the words. "I dunno. yellow? I…that hurt, I think. being…degraded?"

you comb through his hair with your fingers. "I understand. thank you for telling me. I love you."

—

you stay like that for a minute. you grab him a snack and a drink, but for the most part, you just enjoy each other's company, tangled-up together. you don't bother putting your clothes back on.

it's later in the evening. you're straddling him, peppering his shoulders with kisses, and he's giggling underneath you. he turns over to give you a short and sweet kiss.

"baby?" he says, looking expectantly.

"what is it?" you sit back on your heels.

he hesitates. "…I wanna keep going. from earlier."

you're serious again. "are you sure you're okay?" you grab his hand, bringing it up to kiss his fingertips. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm alright," he assures. "I remember you promising me an all-day thing, though."

you blush, a little surprised by his forwardness. "of course. I think…I…" you laugh. "I wanna fuck you."

"yeah?" he smiles, leaning up close. "show me how much."

you hold his jaw while you kiss him, biting his bottom lip between your teeth. he tastes like the coffee and cream you made him earlier. you feel his breath hitch. he reaches up to hold your shoulders.

you pull back. "hey, blow me first."

"what? why?" he giggled.

"it's been a couple hours, I'm not hard anymore," you coax. "I thought you liked taking orders?"

he cringed. "but come tastes gross!"

you slid off him and hopped off the bed, opening the drawer. "suit yourself. you get to watch me jack off, then."

"fine by me, I think you look good when you masturbate."

"ohhh, I forget, you're too blissed-out to pay attention to how I look when you're getting fucking owned."

"I am not!"

"you are too!" he sticks his tongue out at you.

you open the lid, pouring a little on your hand, a little on your cock. it's translucent pink, seems a little fragrant. you give yourself a couple of strokes with a sigh.

he's quiet for a second, then, shyly, "um…is that…strawberry flavored…?"

you bite your lip. "I thought you weren't gonna give me head?"

"I was just curious." it's a weak lie, but you say nothing.

your eyes are shut, but you can feel him moving around a bit on the bed, you hear his bell ring a couple times. you feel a hand on your thigh, so you decide to peek. and holy shit.

your partner's made his way to the floor, on his knees between your legs, holding his leash in his mouth, his fucking mouth, what the fuck. his thumb's rubbing circles on the inside of your thigh. the half-lidded look he's giving you should be criminal.

"you—I thought you said you wouldn't…" you can't find the words. you reach out and take the leash from his mouth. you see your hand shake in front of you.

"I'm just watching…" he whispers, looking up at you, mesmerized.

you're only able to get a couple of pumps in before he's joining you, hand over yours as you get yourself off. just the extra sensation of somebody else's touch is enough to make you bite back a moan.

"fuck—!" you jolt when he licks a stripe up the underside. he mouths over the head, jerking you off on his own now. you move to grip the sheets in one hand, his leash in the other. and you come without warning. you see it end up on his hand and your stomach before you shut your eyes tight.

he's quiet while you're coming down, just helping you ride it out, giving you kisses on your thighs. when you look back down at him, he's got two of his fingertips in his mouth, licking them clean. he stands up abruptly, it startles you a little. you see his bell ring. and he grabs you by the hips and leans down to your midriff.

"…I don't think I cleaned you off all the way earlier…" he breathes, and he starts to lap up the mess of his and your come that's been on you since this afternoon.

what the fuck. why is this so hot? why is he so hot? all too soon, your spent cock twitches in interest at your lover. he cups it with a hand, smiling against your tummy. you're so sensitive it hurts. you think you mean to say something, but nothing comes out.

"hmm…?" he bites his lip. "you still want some more?" all you can do is whine. at this point, you don't know if it's in protest or invitation.

you don't get the chance to find out either, because fuck, he's really going down on you now. you don't know what the fuck he's doing with his tongue, or where his gag reflex went, but at this rate you're gonna come again.

"George—George, baby, I—slow down, I-I'm—" you plead. his leash slips out of your hand, you tip your head back.

he swallows.

—

the last thing you remember is coming harder than you ever have in your life. you think you held him by his hair. you might've fucked his mouth a little. he's never let you come in his mouth before…fuck…

it's nighttime now. he's riding your thigh, got one of his legs slotted between yours. the friction between his knee and your overstimulated cock feels embarrassingly good. you're so dizzy, all you can articulate is a loud moan. you don't sound at all like you remember. his bell keeps ringing and ringing and ringing as he grinds against you.

he leans down, one arm holding your hip, the other keeping himself propped up. he bites your shoulder, hard, hard enough to bruise. he comes on both of your stomachs.

"George," you beg. you're losing your voice.

"mmmmmmsir," he slurs. "fuck me."

"George, I…" you don't know what you're saying. the end of your sentence turns into a whimper.

"you need me to get you hard again? you need me to rile you up?" he turns to kiss your jaw, feeling around for your dick. "like this?"

"George," you sound urgent, until he squeezes right around the head, and you forget what you were saying. you're pretty fucking close to forgetting who you are entirely.

he sits up on top of you, grinning. "love the way you say my name, sir."

that name. all it takes is the way he says that fucking name and you're ready to go again. you flip the two of you over, so that you're towering over him instead. "you still didn't. fucking. ask me. if you could come."

he giggles, a little crazed. he hooks his arms around his knees, hugging them to his chest.. "so what? so what? you gonna fuck me 'till I behave?"

"yes," you reach down, "I think I will." and you pull out the butt plug he (probably forgot he) had in all day.

"fuck—" he sobs. you watch his dick bob. precome drips into a pool on his stomach. "—green—green—so fucking green."

you're still sensitive from coming twice—you're pretty sure he is too. you lean down to give him a kiss, you moan into each other's mouths. he tastes like strawberries and his and your come. it is a little gross, you admit. but he's so tight and so fucking cute that you can't bring yourself to care. you part, and there's a line of salvia connecting the two of you.

"wait—" you say, but it comes out like a growl. "roll over."

he gets on his hands and knees, reaching back and spreading himself open for you. fuck.

you fuck him like that, holding the leash tight, loving the way he arches his back into the bed. the bell on his collar jingles incessantly.

you spank him, one last time.

"th-that's twenty-f-five—oh, fuck, sir," he growls, clinging on to the blankets for dear life.

you pin one of his hands in place and reach down to touch him. he starts laughing again.

"mmmmmmay I please come, sir? I—fuck—I'm so close, soclosesoclose," his breath stutters, you can hear the breaks in his voice. he buries his face in the blankets.

I'm close, you think, but the words don't make it out. "you're so good—you're so fucking good—come for me—fuck, come for me."

—

you're a mess. there's some drying solution of come and lube on your stomach. not to mention whatever the fuck's going on with your hair. your robe is discarded haphazardly on the floor. you think you've got a hickey, but you can't remember where.

actually, you're both a mess. he's also covered in come, sweat, and lube. he's got a red ring around his neck where you pulled him by the leash a little too hard. he's just covered in bruises. he clings to your arm, still fast asleep. you both passed out pretty quickly after…whatever that was, but you got back up a couple hours later. it doesn't look like he did, though.

actually, your whole bedroom is a mess. a blanket or two ended up discarded on the floor. there's an empty bottle of edible lube somewhere around here. your kitty lingerie set, still dirty, somehow ended up hanging in the closet. the first time you woke up you were both cuddling with a butt plug that you misplaced in the heat of the moment.

you don't think you've ever seen him like that. you can't even put it into words. you've never spanked him. he's never called you sir. you've never come in his mouth. he's never…begged for you like that before. you've never been so exhausted after coming that you both just, just fainted.

you feel lightheaded, and dead tired. you know you both must have gotten back up and gone at it at least a couple more times, but it's blurry, you can't remember. all you know is your vibrator's missing, and you feel…unusually empty, like you do the morning-after getting railed a little too hard.

last night…what the fuck happened last night?

you contemplate getting up, slipping your arm out of his embrace, pulling the covers back up around him, leaving to make breakfast. you're kind of disgusting, several hours after sex without cleaning up properly. you want to get yourselves some washcloths, maybe take shower together, or run him a bath. you know he's gotta be way more sore than you are.

you catch yourself staring, lost in thought; he just looks too cute when he's very clearly roughed up, but still sleeping soundly. and with the way he wanted…the way he needed you yesterday, you don't think he would want to wake up alone.

maybe it's okay if we sleep in a little longer.

you stroke his hair and whisper, "happy birthday, baby boy."

—

edited 14 March 2021

[maxwell-grant]

i have been watching old (and sometimes new) gmod animations and i grew up watching enough ytps to know the general idea behind them, and i recently gained a sort of fascination for them. there's something special about them that i couldn't quite put into words, but i think you got it down perfectly in your post about grand guignol. basically, thanks a bunch for that.

Well thank you! And, yeah, I pretty much grew up watching GMOD and YTP constantly and even today I still come back to those a lot when I'm restless and taking a break from work, and I think there's genuinely a lot that can be learned or discussed from them as uniquely 21st Century art forms.

I've been rewatching a lot of Raxxo's content lately and I think it was his content in particular that kind of convinced me that the "GMOD/SFM - Grand Guignol" analogy wasn't nearly as much of deranged word salad as I assumed it was, because in all honestly, if you had to try and condense his videos into a genre or definition or something of the sort, what the hell else can you possibly call this that in any way comes close to describing what you experience?

Like, all of his videos are described as "GMOD animated in SFM", because SFM is usually associated with more straightforward dramatic content while GMOD has been cartoon madness from the start (and it's fascinating to watch just how tame even the early Rubberfruit videos are compared to the kind of stuff Eltorro64 or Dr Lalve are putting out), and Raxxo is the latter in the style of the former.

And his videos are not just a non-stop barrage of brain-breaking, because they have weirdly dramatic pauses, and moments of straightforward action, or simple sentence mixing, and there's continuity between his videos, and incredibly smooth and natural gestures following by the characters stretching and deforming like jello monsters on the next second as their screams warble to drown the soundtrack and then everything's back to normal, and then they start doing things that kinda even make some sense as a narrative, but you cannot even begin explaining properly why, and I've watched these so many times that I even kinda start to see what makes sense and what doesn't, even though literally no one other than Raxxo is ever going to guess why he made the choices he did, and god these jokes must have taken hours if not days to render, why does the scretching Soldier head saying "Sputnik!" shows up in everything he does, and oh did I mention he also makes up the soundtracks he uses himself and they don't match in the slightest most people's perception of his content?

And for the finale of the Soldier Dispenser saga he created maybe the most batshit collaborative animation effort on Youtube, which is about an hour's worth of 200 animators all creating their own little batshit mini-stories in reference to his own and, seriously, who the hell could have possibly predicted something like this existing back when computer game Team Fortress 2 was announced in 2007? Or when Youtube was created?

Who could have possibly predicted something like this existing at any point in human history? Where else could anyone possibly experience this much audiovisual chaos anywhere? I can't even bring myself to watch the video in full again, but that this exists at all, and that it's far from the only one of it's kind, and that Team Fortress 2 fan content has spiraled so hard past anything the creators could have possibly predicted that it has self-sustaining meme ecosystems (Remember when smexuals were a thing? Or the Freaks?), that it's still fucking going 15 years past the game's debut, is, it's kind of a lot, is what I'm saying.

Like, I'm speaking as someone who studies a lot of pop culture and combs through it's most obscure and weirdest recesses to find stuff to write about, I'm still just as baffled by how far these things have gotten as I was when experiencing it for the first time. And you can find a lot of stories like these digging through Youtube Poop and the specific styles of certain creators or certain developing memes for franchises that grow and grow and permutate.

Think about what has to have happened to make a video like iteachvader's What'll It Be? happen.

Long John Baldry, blues musician extraordinaire, voiced cartoon villain Dr Robotnik in a Sonic cartoon. Said Sonic cartoon and performance was lucky enough to survive through Youtube clips. People noticed one of said clips of his performance has him saying a word that sounds like penis in a funny way, so they start making jokes about it, and parodies, and then literally hundreds of parodies popularizing the concept as a source of comedy, some of which take the form of music. Said music is done by cutting, remixing and splicing audio from said performance over music beats, which can be a PAINSTAKINGLY LONG PROCESS as someone who's tried doing that several times now, all this to make something with "Poop" in it's name (which I guess isn't that different from pulp writers spending weeks and months breaking their fingers to put out a novel's worth of content every month, for newspapers and magazines that were literally going to be used as toilet paper later)

These parodies catch on a bit and die out for a bit, until iteachvader comes along, and he proceeds to build a career not just by making funny parodies of said cartoon, but also knocking out genuinely really, really good musical parodies, editing voice clips of said performance to make it sound like the villain's singing (and additionally, he also creates his own tunes, and he's shown that literally every sound he uses is taken from the show, which is just, absolutely mind-boggling effort). He's also created over the years a running joke of Tails being Dr Robotnik's son that people liked enough to ask for more, and then we come to the video above, which is a song about Dr Robotnik spoiling his son Tails asking him what he'll want, which is not at all in line with how the two characters are canonically. And said remixes would eventually get remixed even further, even with crossovers with other characters or musicians, and so forth.

And that is the story of how dozens of creators working separately, and with little intent other than goofing around, single-handedly revived a dead man's music career, as the voice of the fan reinterpretation of a animated adaptation of a videogame villain, popular to the billions if not dozens of billions of views over a decade in the making, on a broadcasting platform said man didn't even live to see being created.

I think sometimes we like to think of ourselves as advanced and jaded enough that nothing surprises us anymore, and if we went back in time and showed an iphone to our great-grandparents they'd start screaming in sheer confusion. And, maybe they would, yeah, but imagine if you were Long John Baldry at any point in his life, even after he finished recording his lines as Robotnik, and someone showed up to you and explained that all of this was going to happen to you, to your voice, to your performance. Imagine if you were one of Valve's lead developers working on Team Fortress 2 during the nine years it spent in development, and someone showed you Raxxo's work and Soldier's Dispenser Quest and just, everything that had happened to characters you hadn't even fully created yet.

I imagine Long John Baldry would have taken it well enough eventually, by all accounts he was a fun person who loved to try new things, and he was an openly gay British vocalist in the 1960s when it was literally illegal to be gay in Britain, so I imagine nothing could possibly rattle his cage that deep in the long run.

But can you honestly tell me you wouldn't freak out at least a little trying to understand just what exactly the future was showing you? Can you honestly tell me your cynicism and world-weariness would be worth anything in the face of all this knowledge about what the world was going to do with your creations and work?

Can you honestly tell me, just now, that you have any idea what the hell is your legacy or reputation as an artist, or even what your art is known for, going to look like in a decade or two from now? And that things aren't going to get weirder than they are now?

I find that fact both frightening and strangely assuring at points, and exciting above all.

[gwynrielendgame]

Gwyncien part 5 (last part)

Thank you to all who supported this short little story! It really kept me motivated. This is the last part. I’m gonna be honest this part is not as edited at the other parts but I finished it and wanted to get it out to all of you so thank you!

Warning: the smallest amount possible of smut at the end.

Gwyn's body jolted as they hit the ground. Lucien let out an annoyed huff while straightening out his jacket. The wards around the House of Wind truly made winnowing in unfavorable. As soon as she stabled herself though, she felt a rush of happiness.

Home.

It was her only thought. She missed this place- the smell, the comfort, the people. She started to buzz with excitement at the thought of Nesta and Emerie.

"You made sure someone brought Emerie here?" Gwyn double checked with Lucien. He simply nodded while giving her a sad smile. The moment was bitter sweet. She was happy to be reunited with her sisters, but she would miss her newest friend. She threw her arms around him in a tight hug. He returned it just as fiercely.

"Thank you for all that you did for me. It means more than I could ever express." She buried her head in his hair and took a deep breath. He smelled of roasted chestnuts and a summers day. She would miss it.

"I know a way you could make it up to me." He said as he pulled away. Gwyn looked at him expectantly.

"Promise me I will see you again soon." A soft smile graced Gwyn's face.

"I promise." She wanted to show her sisters the Band of Exiles castle anyways. They would love it. Lucien smiled broadly before dropping a kiss on her forehead next to her invoking stone.

She finally decided to wear it as all the priestesses do. Lucien took her to Sangravah to see Catrin's grave. She had been so sad and angry that she almost destroyed the stone right then and there. She did not deserve the stone while her sister's body lay cold in a grave. But then Lucien took her to meet the priestesses and children that had rebuilt the temple. The children that Gwyn had saved. They all remembered her and flattered her in compliments and hugs. The called her their hero and said that they were petitioning to make that dreadful anniversary known as Berdara day. In honor of the twins who sacrificed so much to protect those children. Gwyn cried for a week straight after that. Once her emotions leveled out though, she began to wear the stone. The children had been a distant memory that she forgot about while grieving for her sister. Seeing them, happy and healthy, reminded her that the sacrifice was not in vein. She may have failed Catrin but she did not fail those children. It was one more thing that made her grateful for Lucien.

Gwyn took one last look at Lucien before he winnowed away. She turned back towards the door, took a deep breath, and headed straight for the personal library. She was so excited she thought she might throw up. She wished she had kept her composure to walk the entire way there, but as she came closer and closer to the library, her feet began moving faster and faster until she was practically running. The moment she burst through the doors she scanned the room for the two females. She found them sitting side by side, each with a book in their hands. It made Gwyn smile broadly. They both whipped their heads up at the same time- startled. Nesta reacted first, practically throwing herself at Gwyn. Emerie was close behind, and then they were crushing Gwyn in a hug.

"Gwyn!" Nesta cried. Emerie just squeezed her tighter.

Home.

Gwyn felt completely at ease now that she was reunited with her sisters. She had missed them so unbearably that she almost forced Lucien to bring her back several different times. She was afraid that if she came back, she would not have left again. After a very lengthy hug, the girls pulled apart. Nesta was subtly trying to wipe tears away which only served in making Gwyn start to cry herself.

"We missed you." Emerie said softly while running her hand over Gwyn's hair. It was such a comforting gesture that Gwyn forced another hug from the Illyrian female.

"I missed you two more than anything." Gwyn pulled back from Emerie so that she could grab both of their hands. She pulled them over to the couch and forced them to sit down next to her.

"You better explain why you ran off with Lucien and you better do it right now because I am angry with you so I want a good explanation before I start yelling." Nesta warned with a hardened expression. Gwyn squeezed her hand and gave her a small smile.

"Lucien helped me with some things." Gwyn did not even know how to start explaining everything that had happened. She knew Lucien did not want her telling anyone of their ancestry, but Emerie and Nesta did not count. At least in Gwyn's mind they didn't.

"Things we could not help you with?" Emerie asked. Gwyn could hear the touch of hurt in her voice and suddenly felt very guilty. She never imagined they would blame themselves. She should have known better though, especially with Nesta.

"You cannot repeat what I am about to tell you to anyone." She gave them both a pointed look but it got a snort from Nesta.

"Who would I possibly tell other than Cassian?" She rolled her eyes with a slight laugh. Gwyn continued to give her a serious look.

"You cannot tell Cassian or Mor either. They will feel obligated to tell Rhys. This information is dangerous for me and I need to know before I tell you that it will stay between us three." She squeezed both their hands again. Nesta and Emerie shared a look before giving her a concerned one.

"We promise. We would never do anything to endanger you, Gwyn." Emerie insisted as Nesta nodded in agreement. Gwyn took a deep breath before explaining.

"Lucien's my grandfather. After the autumn court high lord killed Lucien's lover, him and a brother hid my mother at Sangravah." Emerie's eyes widened comically while Nesta took this in with a straight face.

"Holy shit. That makes you the only living heir to the day court." Emerie muttered. Gwyn's brows furrowed in confusion.

"The day court?" Nesta inquired on the same topic that Gwyn was confused about. The winged female gave them a sheepish look.

"Shit. I wasn't supposed to say anything." She gave a deep sigh. "Mor told me that Helion is Lucien's real father and that would make Lucien the only known offspring of Helion." Gwyn wasn't sure how she felt about that.

"Does this mean you'll get a real Pegasus?" Nesta pondered. It made Gwyn smile thinking of the tiny Pegasus the house conjured for them.

"I would demand weekends with it if so." Emerie added while leaning back on the side of the couch to fully face the other two females.

"Well anyways, Lucien helped me with some things regarding Sangravah." Gwyn directed the conversation back on topic. She did not want to think about being the future heir to some random court. "I did not ask for your help because I did not want to be dependent on you two. I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it on my own. Trust me, it had nothing to do with not wanting your help. There were so many times I almost forced Lucien to bring me back." Nesta looked at the priestess and a smile finally graced her face.

"You are wearing your invoking stone." Gwyn blushed and looked down at her hands. Nesta was one of the only people she had confided in about why she never wore it and she had only done that because she knew that Nesta would understand.

"I am."

"Are you happy?" Nesta asked wearily. The blunt female was not a fan of Lucien's for some reason.

"I am now that I am home. I have so much to tell you, but I might still need to process some of it before then." Gwyn warned. She may not be ready to give them all the answers that they needed or wanted. Gwyn put both her arms around both the females shoulders, tugging them in closer to her.

"You know just by the way, you could have given Az a heads up about your departure. I had to convince him that Papa Lucien did not kidnap you for nefarious revenge plans." Nesta responded after awhile of comfortable silence. Gwyn cringed while Emerie cackled over Lucien's new nickname.

"I figured his shadows told him." She shrugged. It's not her fault if he was being a bad spy master. He should have known Lucien did not kidnap her. Nesta gave a small smirk while nestling her head into the crook of Gwyn's neck. Emerie mimicked the gestured and suddenly all three of them were cuddling on the couch. It made the priestess feel safe.

"Mor said he finally confronted her about their situation." Nesta's eyebrows shot up into her hairline. Gwyn was just as surprised. The Shadowsinger practically ran screaming from emotions.

"How did that go?" The red headed female asked incredulously. She also had no idea why he would chose now when he was finally with Elain to have that conversation.

"Good? I did not get a lot of details but Mor seemed happy." They all sat in another comfortable silence again. There was so much to say on both sides. Gwyn was sure she had missed out on a lot, but they all knew they just wanted to enjoy each other's presence for a bit.

"Hey Nes-" Cassian stopped mid-sentence when he saw the priestess as he strode into the library. A huge smile broke out on his face. "Gwyn!"

"Hey Cas." She gave a small wave as all three girls sat upright on the couch. They all moved over some so Cassian could sit next to Nesta. It was a tight squeeze especially with his wings but they made it work.

"Shit, I have missed you, Berdara. Training is not the same without you. Please tell me you have kept up with it." He berated her like the good trainer he was.

Gwyn gave a short laugh. If only he knew what she had been doing to keep up with her training. She knew he would approve though. She truly had missed Cassian. Nesta and his bickering was a high quality form of entertainment for both Gwyn and Emerie. She also missed his quite encouragement and lame jokes, she would never admit to the latter, though.

"I have missed you as well." He gave Nesta a peck on the cheek which caused a smile to bloom on her face. They were sickeningly adorable.

"Are you coming tonight?" He asked.

"What's tonight?" He obviously did not know that Gwyn just arrived back. They had no time to discuss anything other than her trip.

"Oh I forgot to mention. Remember Balthazar? The guy that helped Emerie and I in the blood rite? Well Feyre and Rhys are throwing him a party in windhaven for not killing us." Nesta rolled her eyes. Clearly, she did not feel that was worth celebrating

"Seems kind of like the bare minimum." Emerie muttered the same thing that Nesta must be thinking. "No need to throw a party for letting us live." Emerie mimicked Nesta with an eye roll of her own.

"Sounds fun.” Gwyn could not stop the sarcasm that flooded her voice. “But I will go anyways.” She relented.

"Really?" Cassian was clearly surprised as he looked at her with raised eyebrows. Gwyn watched as he subtly set his hand on Nesta’s shoulder and rubbed his thumb back and forth. Part of Gwyn felt jealous. She wanted to experience that type of intimacy with someone- with Az. She let out a sigh.

"Yeah. I have had a very enlightening five months. I think I am ready to brave windhaven in a showy dress while everyone schmoozes the high lord and lady." Emerie and Nesta both cheered at that while Cassian gave her his biggest smile. It made her laugh.

"Azriel is at the River house. Want me to take you there?" Cassian suddenly changed the topic. Gwyn narrowed her eyes at him. She most definitely did not want to see the Shadowsinger right now. Besides, she still had so much to discuss with her sisters.

"I can only take so many reunions at once. Perhaps his could wait."

+

Gwyn had never felt this confident. Her normal anxieties were still there, but it was not nearly as overwhelming as it once had been. She felt a little guilty for crashing Balthazar's "thank you for not killing my sister in the blood rite" party, however, she knew the male would not care much. She glanced at herself one last time in the mirror- only to feel that a stranger was looking back at her. For the first time in front of her friends, she wore her invoking stone atop her head. The color matched her dress very well. It was quite a scandalous dress by her standards even if Nesta had said it had nothing on a few of Feyre's court of nightmare dresses. The neckline went up relatively high while the back dipped down low enough to barely reach her tailbone. It left her entire back exposed. There were very few scars there which made her much more comfortable than some of the dresses with low cut necklines. The waistline came in tight enough for Gwyn to struggle to breathe. Luckily, the skirt was flowy with a slit in the side that showed off one of her legs as well as her dagger which was sheathed to her thigh. It was very unlike Gwyn. She would not wear it again, but once for a grand entrance seemed like as good of a time as ever. Lucien bought the dress for her before realizing how scandalous it really was. He saw the color and was reminded of her eyes which she apparently got from Jesminda. She tried it on once for him which resulted in him stumbling over his words in a very un-Lucien manner. He told her he would return it at once and then begged for forgiveness. It was a bit of an overreaction that had her giggling for a decent amount of time. She told him she would keep it and wear it when she was ready. She knew she would be ready when she could walk out of the door without changing. She allowed herself five more minutes of staring before heading upstairs to the House of Wind. Cassian, Nesta, Emerie, and Mor would all be waiting for her up there. She did not quite expect the reaction she received. All four of them stared at her, wide-eyed, for longer than socially acceptable. Gwyn almost asked if she should change, but then Nesta and Emerie were gushing over the dress, Mor was demanding to know where she got it from, and Cassian gave her a shy compliment. The anxiety released her chest as everyone went back to discussing their original conversation.

It appeared the high lord and lady did not spare a single expense for this party. Food and alcohol was everywhere, music played loudly, and everyone was dancing. The dances were different than the ones Gwyn was used to, but Emerie showed her a few of the steps. She had gotten so good at one of them that a crowd formed around the three sisters as they held hands and danced around in a circle, adding in different kicks and twirls on beat. Gwyn had laughed more tonight than she had since Catrin’s death. Perhaps everything was finally falling into place for Gwyn to live her life unafraid. Exhaustion pulled Gwyn from the dance floor and back onto the dais where the high lord and lady stood- deep in discussion. Gwyn did not interrupt them, instead opting to stand by herself for a moment in order to catch her breathe. She chugged her cup of water that was much harder to find than it should have been. She was not alone long before a male approached her.

She recognized the red-haired fae. She was trying to remember how she knew him, but it just barely kept slipping her mind. Based on his looks, he was from the autumn court which made Gwyn wonder why he was even here in the first place. To Rhysand and Feyre's surprise, the male asked to dance with her. Before she could accept or decline though, her high lord interrupted.

"No." Gwyn's eyebrows raised to her hairline. He did not speak for her. Now or ever.

"Rhys," Feyre began, shifting her eyes from her mate to the quickly angering priestess. "I do believe Gwyn has a voice of her own." The couple shared a look before turning to her. The red haired male looked as annoyed as Gwyn felt.

"Gwyneth, I apologize for speaking on your behalf, but he is not to be trusted. He is dangerous." He continued to dig himself further into a hole. Gwyn was the last person to openly trust a strange male, but she could handle her own. Especially against him.

"And here I thought we were allies." The strange male rolled his eyes with his sarcastic comment. All three of them ignored him.

"Do you see me warning you away from every female in this room?" It was a rhetorical question, but her point was made. "How would you like me to throw Amarantha in your face every chance I got under the guise of protection? If I want your opinion on a dancing partner, I will ask." She was a blunt person, but she was not typically so harsh. The overwhelming pity that Rhysand sent her way brought the ugliness out of her in a way that many others have not been able to do. She could see the guilt on his face. She also saw the flinch when she uttered Amarantha's name and she wished more than anything that she could take it back. Just because he reminded her of Sangravah every chance he got did not mean she had to stoop to his level.

"I apologize. Obviously, you may dance with whomever you chose." He bowed his head to her and flourished an arm towards the waiting male. Feyre was too busy watching Rhysand to add anything more. Gwyn supposed they were having an internal conversation. She stepped down from the dais to follow the male onto the dancing floor. She did not want to dance with him in particular. Truly, she only wanted to dance with Azriel who had yet to make an appearance, but she was curious. That nagging feeling at the back of her mind said that she knew him. He grabbed one of her hands to hold and placed his other at her hip. The placement at her hip was odd. Typically, that was reserved for more intimate dances between couples, but that was not why he did it. Her back was completely exposed due to the dress. He must have figured this would be better for her. She narrowed her eyes at him. He must know Lucien and therefore who she is to him.

"Eris Vanserra." He finally announced as they began their dance. "Pleasure to officially meet you." Gwyn met his stare. It was surprisingly soft. Lucien's brother she realized. This could be good or bad depending on which brother he is she contemplated. She had only heard wicked things about all his brothers except when Lucien was discussing her mother. He mentioned a brother helped him hide her mother.

"We have met before." She said it as a statement of fact, but in truth it was a question. He gave her a wicked grin before twirling her.

"We have."

"Where?" He twirled her once more before glancing over his shoulder at Rhysand. He must be listening in.

"Sangravah." Was all he said. It was all she needed to remember. He came to the services Sangravah held on Sunday's. It was not every Sunday, but enough of them to recognize him. He sat in a pew in the back and watched. He never participated. Catrin complained one time that she felt he was watching her. Gwyn had brushed it off as mere paranoia- she knew better now though. She wanted to respond with a million different questions; however, she was expected to be vague with prying ears around.

"Why?" Was all she could muster. If Lucien was not willing to risk a visit, then why was he? She was searching his eyes for any clues only to discover a hint of sadness that was quickly covered up.

"To remind myself that it was worth it." The music stopped as the dance came to an end, so he moved his mouth to her ear to continue. It would have seemed an intimate moment to anyone watching. Truly, it was only an uncle speaking a secret to his great niece. "That all I had become to save her was worth it."

Before she could respond she felt a sharp tug on her mate bond, a whisper of a shadow on her wrist, and then Azriel launched himself at Eris.

"For fucks sake." Cassian could be heard muttering as a brawl ensued between the pair. Gwyn couldn't help but agree. Punches were thrown back and forth, but once truth teller had been drawn, Gwyn did the only thing she could think of. She lightly scraped her nails on the back of Azriel's wings. Almost immediately he wrenched himself away from Eris to give her a startled look- his wings tucking in tight. Luckily, Cassian chose that time to insert himself into the fight and hold Eris back.

"Do not do that again." Azriel gave her an intimidating look, but she did not balk from him. Not now.

"Do not give me that attitude, Shadowsinger." She returned his stare with such intensity that he finally looked away.

She turned to Eris who now looked much worse than her mate. He was wiping blood from his nose with the end of his sleeve. She quickly wrapped her arms around his neck and gave a tight squeeze. He barely had time to return the hug before she pulled away. Everyone was clearly shocked, but it mattered little to Gwyn. This dangerous and cruel male had gone against his abusive father to save her mother. He had risked his future as high lord by visiting her and Catrin. It was not all that long ago that Gwyn thought she had no family. Then she met Nesta and Emerie and now she had a grandfather who loved her despite knowing little of her and a great uncle who cared for her enough to risk all he had tried to achieve. It made her feel a little less alone in this world.

"Thank you." Was all she uttered before turning back to her mate who had the audacity to be glaring daggers at Eris. She narrowed her eyes at him before grabbing him by his hand and tugging him all the way to the exit. She could see him about to speak so she stopped him.

"No. No speaking. Show me to a private room so I can scream at you for a solid five minutes and then I shall allow you to speak." She was fuming mad at the arrogance of this male. He was in a completely committed relationship with another female and he had the audacity to attack her dance partner. He took her down a long hallway, his shadows twirling around him in chaos. His wings were tense even as his face gave off an air of cool indifference. He took a sharp turn and then they were in an empty bedroom.

"I have been back for a total of six hours and before I can even utter a word to you, you have gone and fought Eris Vanserra of all people? Really Azriel I am starting to get whiplash from you. One second you are proclaiming your love for Elain Archeron and the next you are attempting murder on my dance partner. What would you like from me? Because I was hoping we could start off with a pleasant conversation but I suppose that is too much to ask for?" She was glaring him down which was not something anyone else had ever done. While he was beautiful, his icy cruelty laid right beneath the surface. It was enough for everyone to walk on eggshells around him. Even some of his closest friends. Gwyn had never done that though and she would not start now. He looked down at his feet as his shadows went still. Perhaps they also realized they were in trouble.

"You are wearing your invoking stone." He peeked at the stone that lay across her forehead before glancing out the window. She huffed in frustration.

"This is the first you have seen of me in five months and that's all you have to say?" Her glare turned more incredulous.

"You never wore it before." He paused to glance up at her before continuing. "You look beautiful." Gwyn groaned in frustration. This male would be the death of her. She sat at the edge of the bed in the middle of the room. After a moments pause, he followed suit and sat next to her with a small gap in between them. It was silent for another moment.

"I am sorry Gwyneth. My shadows refuse to tell me anything about you and I assumed the worse when I saw Eris whispering into your ear. The mate bond has become harder to control the longer you have been gone as well." She could agree with that. Her own mate bond had become more and more incessant the longer she had been gone. It was like a buzzing in her mind that would not stop. She wondered how Elain managed.

"Lucien, and I suppose now Eris, are important to me Azriel. I cannot explain why quite yet, but it is important to me that you try to be polite specifically with Lucien. Okay?" It was probably more information than she should give. She wanted to be clear with him. He gave her a curious look. He wanted to ask more that was for sure.

"Okay." He whispered. They both looked down at their hands. His were laid loosely on his thighs while hers were clasped tightly together in her lap. "Elain and I decided it would be best if we stopped..." he trailed off at the end, braving a glimpse at her. She was surprised by this. Perhaps Elain's visit to the Band of Exile's was not to reject Lucien. Almost two weeks ago, Gwyn had bumped into Elain in the castle. Their conversation was awkward and brief, but Gwyn thought for sure that the beautiful female had come to reject the mating bond with Lucien.

"Why?" Was all Gwyn could muster. She suddenly felt so tired.

"After our kiss," he started. His hands ran up and down his thighs and she realized he was nervous. She grabbed one of his hands with her own and squeezed. "Nothing had ever lived up to that. I had been chasing what Elain represented that I forgot what I was missing out on. I don't want Elain now and maybe I never truly did. I know I don't deserve it, but I would like a chance to be with you Gwyn. We can go as slow as you like." His sudden proclamation was hurting her head. It was like sensory overload.

"What makes me different from Elain?" She didn't want him to make this decision solely because they were mated. She wanted this to be different. She squeezed his hand tighter.

"You see me for who I am and you aren't phased. You have never hesitated before grabbing my hands. You didn't even so much as blink at my shadows the first time you saw them. You understand why I hold myself to such high standards and you aren't scared of me." He looked directly into her eyes to make sure she understood that every word was true. He wanted her to see him be vulnerable. His stare was so intense that she had to look away before responding.

"I missed you." She gave him a small smile. "But I have been missing you for much longer than I have been gone. I miss my friend. You were so much more to me than just my mate when it snapped into place and I feel like we lost that along the way. This has nothing to do with what you deserve, Azriel. I want you to know that. But right now I would really love my friend back. We can see where the future leads us later." It was not the speech she planned to give him when she thought he was still with Elain, but it was true. They both still had so much to deal with even now. She wanted to deal with it with her friend by her side though. His shoulders slumped slightly which had the mate bond clenching tightly in her chest. After a moment though, his head lifted and he gave her a brilliant smile. One she had never seen from him before and she realized she would do just about anything to see it again.

"I would love to be your friend, Gwyneth Berdara." He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him. She let out a content sigh as she put her arms around his neck. Her head rest on his shoulder as his head lay atop hers. His shadows were moving languidly as though they were also happy.

"Can I ask a favor of you though?" He mumbled against her hair. She nodded slightly.

"Can I ask that you not touch my wings in public again?" His tone was almost pleading. She quickly looked up at him putting a couple inches between them.

"Oh gods! I'm sorry. Did it hurt? Nesta mentioned that they were sensitive once and I figured it would be the easiest way to stop you from killing Eris." She didn't mean to be too rough, but she also wasn't familiar with Illyrian wings. He gave her a sheepish look. A slight blush gracing his cheeks.

"Um, that's not what she meant by sensitive." He glanced at her before laying his head on top of hers again to avoid eye contact. "It's just not something that one does with Illyrian wings in public." There was heavy insinuation in his voice, but Gwyn could not figure out why. What could she possibly be missing?

"Well we aren't in public now? Could I do it now?" If he wouldn't outright tell her, perhaps she could threaten it out of him. She brought her hand up to his wing only for him to quickly grab it and push her away. She started to laugh as his face grew even redder. "Az, just tell me. Are you ticklish?" It was just too easy to tease him. He held both of her wrists between his hands to keep her at bay.

"Gwyn, I am begging you, which I never do if I must add, please do not touch them unless you would like to act out a scene from one of your romance novels." He truly was begging. She smiled until his words finally caught up to her. Now it was her that was blushing like crazy. Nesta was going to get an earful for being woefully stubborn with details.

"Sorry!" Was all she could splutter out like a fool. She quickly shoved her hands in her lap. Azriel began laughing very loudly as realization of what she almost did hit her. Oh, how the tables have turned she thought. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and tugged her closer, dropping a kiss on her head.

"I truly have missed you, Gwyn. Tell me everything."

+

Sometime in the future

Gwyn felt a tickle on her bare back. She tried to ignore it and go back to sleep by burying her head further into her pillow. Another tickle brushed against her. She swatted at her back which was more difficult than she wanted to admit considering she was laying on her stomach. One last tickle had her groaning as she finally popped her eyes open. She immediately gave the Shadowsinger a glare.

"I was trying to sleep." She mumbled, her voice still sleep laced. He gave her a charming smile back.

"Keep sleeping. I was just rubbing your back for you." He had the look of innocence perfected, but Gwyn new better.

It was hard to stay mad at him when he looked like that though. She moved closer to him while he laid on his side. She wrapped her arms and legs around him until she pushed him onto his back with her on top. An ornery grin graced his face as she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. He began to run his hands up and down her bare thighs. It made her shutter. The warmth from his chest stopped her bare chest from being chilled by the temperature of the room. She loved waking up this way with her mate. She quickly discovered that neither of them slept too often- nightmares always finding them in their sleep. They stayed up most nights playing chess or singing or training or...doing other things. Gwyn was always curious about the scenes she read from Nesta and Emerie's romance books. Azriel was certainly willing to demonstrate for her. After one particular, evening session Gwyn profusely apologized for touching Azriel's wings in public all that time ago. It made her embarrass to know exactly how close she had been to bringing Azriel to his knees in front of all those people. She thought she might never live it down if it had happened.

"What are you thinking about?" Azriel asked while playing with Gwyn's hair. His shadows were wrapping all around her in a way that made her feel safe especially when they were being this intimate.

"You." She immediately answered with a grin while dropping a quick kiss on to his chin.

"I would hope so." He gave her one last devilish smile before leaning up to kiss her. Right as she began to grind though, Az pulled away.

"Sorry, Carynthian. That is not why I woke you." He teased. Gwyn rolled her eyes at the nickname. He loved to call her that simply to remind her of all she had accomplished. She felt he was bragging about her just a little too much.

"Well then why did you wake me?" She lifted a singular eyebrow but he only laughed her off. He sat up with her still in his lap and started to carry her towards their bathroom.

"Nyx's party will be starting soon." He set her down on the counter before getting the bath water ready. Gwyn lifted one of her legs, so that her foot could rest on the counter as well. If he was going to tease her, well then two could play at that game. Even during times like these, both of their competitive streaks came out. It was always a game to see who could get who to cave first. The look Az gave her when he turned around told her that she won this round. Before dropping to his knees in front of her though, he grabbed her face and pressed a harsh kiss to her lips.

"I love you, Gwyneth Berdara." And then she was screaming her love for Azriel, over and over again.

They were both late to the party. Neither of them cared.

The end

[fanficmemes]

Hey guys!!! Thanks to our lovely anon/blog historian, Soupy, we now have a recorded history!! Blog lore, my beloved. I'll try and start adding in our new things too, but to any newbies out there, come take a look :):):):)

About the lore for this blog, i cannot remember everything, but i can do something about the cursed asks lore and history, since i just scrolled all the posts in the tags!

31 Jan 2021: an anonymous send an ask asking what people actually mean when they tell a ship if "pedophilic". This start a big number of asks about real survivor and how fucked up is fandom water down the word, purity culture, and consequently story time about harassing people in fandom for purity culture.

1 Feb 2021: someone speak about how much fucked up fics helped them. This probably opened the possibility of cursed asks. The same day, someone other send an ask about a terrible person known for harassing people about the sexuality of a character. The person is called "train fucker".

2 Feb 2021: anonymous point the attention on the train fucking thing. The cursed ask tag is created.

In the following hours, always in the cursed ask tag, people discover the fandom was Death Note and the guy was apparently in real attracted to trains and planes. Hell break down, memes are created.

History is made.

One of the characters will later become protagonists of the tag already existed. PKD already was knew since the 22 Jan 2021, when they sent an ask about the color asks and you had the intuition the tags he was probably someone with a piss kink and the tag "chronicles of piss" was created.

Cursed ask history part 2:

At this moment on time,the tags is still not clearly used. One of the First post tagged as such, the 9th Feb, is an anon answering to the ear fucking conversation about micropenis, while all the other posts are not tagged. The day after PKD enter the cursed asks tag, while the others ask still stay out of it. People start sending the stories they read.

12 Feb Hagrid/Hedwig fics are discovered. Owl fucking anon appear. Someone suggest a friendship between them and mlp guy.

Also mlp pony guy is a lore being who did not appear before in the #cursed asks, but already had their history in the simpler ask tag and in the previous cancel scale period, that we could call the ancestor of #cursed ask.

The First post tagged as cancel scale is from the 2nd Jan 2021. It was an anon answering your post of the same day "alright guys scale 1-10 how screwed r u if it ao3 history and bookmarks get released".

This is the gold era of this blog lore. The philanthropist, wound fucking discourse, rpf bdsm and mlp guy (with the first ask behind paywall) appeared during the first month and a half of the year, mixing at the end with the cursed ask tag.

Cursed ask history part 2:

At this moment on time,the tags is still not clearly used. One of the First post tagged as such, the 9th Feb, is an anon answering to the ear fucking conversation about micropenis, while all the other posts are not tagged. The day after PKD enter the cursed asks tag, while the others ask still stay out of it. People start sending the stories they read.

12 Feb Hagrid/Hedwig fics are discovered. Owl fucking anon appear. Someone suggest a friendship between them and mlp guy.

Also mlp pony guy is a lore being who did not appear before in the #cursed asks, but already had their history in the simpler ask tag and in the previous cancel scale period, that we could call the ancestor of #cursed ask.

The First post tagged as cancel scale is from the 2nd Jan 2021. It was an anon answering your post of the same day "alright guys scale 1-10 how screwed r u if it ao3 history and bookmarks get released".

This is the gold era of this blog lore. The philanthropist, wound fucking discourse, rpf bdsm and mlp guy (with the first ask behind paywall) appeared during the first month and a half of the year, mixing at the end with the cursed ask tag.

Cursed ask history part 3:

The philanthropist appeared the same day #the cancel scale started. With their iconic "i am a shameless philanthropist and so my bookmarks are public. I eat dead doves for breakfast. Come on down to the buffet y'all! You want some wound fucking? 8-yr-old omega abortion? I got you fam, watch me scramble these eggs" they left a forever sign in this blog. Still to this days asks are written to know if they are good. They obtained a 12/10 in the cancel scale.

Wound fucking discourse started, also the same day, by CB answering "is that where the wound fucking comes in??" At a ask about vivisection and medical experimentation. Discourse about what classify as a wound and how it works continued trought the day.

Rpf bdsm is thought to have beat the philanthropist with their mix of rape, underage, incest in a foursome, huge age, rpf tentacles and, mostly, someone getting turned into a pickle and his partner fucking himself with it.

This also started a string of asks about people being transformed in object used for sex.

Rpf bdsm would appear again later that day to specify the pickle fic was a rpf.

Cursed ask history part 4 (i think? Already lost the count)

Mlp guy. The one and only. Always in the terrible 2 Jan 2021, they first appeared in the tags of an answer to a marvel ask. #Hey HEY mlp guy #u know who u r #i'm afraid to look at this ask #like yeah we saw some shit tonight but this blows that outta the fuckin WATER #y'all would dead ass have to pay me to post it

Someone noticed the tags and asked about it, and a strong sexual tension between everyone and the unpublished mlp ask started. Someone ended up paying, cause the ask was later published as last post of the day and terrorized every follower of the blog. It was published as screenshot of the ask, and is not even put in the #cancel scale.

MLP guy stayed so in the apex of the cursed asks for some months, till the Pokémon ask by soupy was published the 9th may 2021, taking home a 15/10. MLP guy made a Tumblr profile, @therealmlpguy, in retiliation, and reblogged answering with a new terribly cursed fic. CB have still not voted it, so who have the worst cursed ask is still in question.

The day of #cancel scale the blog fanficmemes lost many followers, but the story was, as we know, not finished.

Cursed ask history part 5

I like to stay an half cryptid of this blog, so i will not tell my blog of origin, but i can tell you I am Soupy. Also i need to know if i am actually considered a cryptic of the blog and if i need to make a lore post about myself XD.

This is starting to get hard cause i cannot reread what i already sent, but the end of the tunnel is near.

We already told about owl fucking anon in the cursed ask tag, but their story is a bit more longer. The cursed ask was actually their big return, and they are probably one of the most proficious lore making, having also a part in the creation of the PKD legend. They should really have their own tag.

How? Well.

The 17 Jan 2021, when the big part of the cancel scale was done and the elders of the lore created, they sent an anon ask about what the cancel scale made them remember. It was a fic, red when they were ten or eleven, about someone fucking an owl while the owl was on their period. Consensual, and apparently the authors were two teen girl who write only character x owl. Their mom proofread. CB answered with their profile picture, edited so that it red "i can't believe it's gotten even worse!" Instead of "i can't believe it's not canon".

This post created, if we want to say, PKD, cause their first ask, that assigned them piss kink, was yes about the color asks (that, in case someone does not remember, was CB asking what colors people assigned to them), but had as explanation "if you keep posting stuff like the owl period whatever". So the owl fucking anon indirectly created, the 22 Jan 2021, PKD.

Owl fucking anon continued their ascension to lore of the blog.

The 12th Feb 2021 sent an ask were they were surprised someone had found Hagrid x Hedwing fics, and than sent anther 9 parts ask about the story of how they red lot of cursed shits thanks to an old tumblr blog that had the links, and how from there they found an author who only published Hagrid x Hedwing, and how that introduced them to FF smut.

(it is also discovered they are only 15, baby, please, i am noone to talk with the shits i red at the time but i hope you are ok).

They are now consacrated in the memory of the blog.

Cursed ask history part 6

Before continuing with the history of the cursed asks, is now time to finally give a small talk about PKD. We know how they originated, but how they become so famous?

Probably is the fact they appeared so many time during the last months. Being it for cancel scale, cursed asks or just normal asks, they continue to give us company with their exploration of piss kink fic. Is true they soundly negate having the kink the first months, but after lot of memes and people speaking about it, the 25 Apr 2021 they finally admitted of having the kink,and discovered it reading an a/b/o Captain America fic.

I would suggest to read all the posts, but they stopped being tagged halfway through, so is half in the specific #chronicles of piss and half in the #cursed ask

Cursed ask history part 7

The big lore is finished, and now only the later history stay.

#cancel scale posts and #cursed asks post lived side by side for some days. The owl fucking one of the 12 Feb was actually the last cursed fic published in the cancel scale post, leaving the tag only for some history reference later.

#cursed asks saw the appearence of every type of cursed possible to thought, with scat and nipple fucking between the different tags. At the start there was no specific day chosen, but later, for CB schedule reasons, Saturday was assigned as cursed ask day, and some week later it was moved to Sunday.

And here we are, today, to see what other cursed things we will bring in this world

Cursed fic History part 8

The cursed fic History have been covered, but i still think is important to talk about some of the before time tags that created the good ecosystem for the creation of #cursed ask.

The most famous is #the lube discussion.

It started the 23 Aug 2020, when CB wrote a post about FF using the word "supple" in smut without the thing being actually supple. In the tag, they added #also #that does Not work as lube.

Some anon asked what was being used as lube, that was answered with "one was peanut butter. I will not discuss the other". This started the bug lube discussion, were everyone talked about what they continingly see used as lube when it cannot be used as lube.

Between the classics soap and blood, we see some more daring one as mud, yogurt, aloe vera, years, milk, hot sauce and the more intersting, cannoli (have no idea if they are talking about the cream you put in cannoli or some american thing i don't know).

Nothing reached cursed material, but it put the first seed for the blog.

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 12k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:

Sick of unsatisfying hookups, boring relationships or the company of your own hand? Apply today for the chance to be on bangasm.com’s very first reality show! Seven attractive young gentlemen will be vying for your choice of who is best in bed. All from different backgrounds, these men claim they’ll be able to rock your world, so don’t hesitate! Apply now!

Congratulations! You’ve been accepted as the Lady in the first season of The Gentlemen.

<- prev || masterlist || next ->

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: good god where to begin, loss of virginity : ) for real, big dick joon, cowgirl, unprotected sex, special appearance from namjoon’s sensitive neck o.o, premature ejaculation sorry bud, creampie, dom!joon still tho, sub!reader, sexting, dom!hoseok/master!hoseok, sub!jungkook, sub!reader agAIN, bondage and shibari, master/slave dynamics (sorry i have to spoil the prompt but want to properly TW this stuff, but the word slave is only used once out-of-scene), filmed sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, hoseok wearing the tear dior fit you are WELCOME, fingering, orgasm control/denial, oral (m receiving), anal (m receiving), a position i am told is called a lucky pierre/french sandwich, threesome in case you couldn’t guess, aftercare, guided masturbation, phone sex, pet-names, discipline/punishment

banner designer @jamaisjoons​ | thank you my darling SFHS babies ! i love you

DAY EIGHT

“Are you ready to make your decision?”

No. Of course the answer is no, but there’s no delaying it anymore. “Is it nine already?”

Sejin sighs, shuffling to the side of the table to indicate you’re to sit beside him. When you do, facing the boys on the couch, your heart gives another sickening lurch. Sejin squeezes your shoulder kindly. “Just a game, sweetheart,” he assures quietly, before raising his voice into the authorial tone he used for announcements. “Thank you for all being here on time, any on topic questions before we begin?”

Nobody answers, not even Jin. There’s a tense atmosphere, and you feel caught right in the centre of it.

“Okay, then,” he says softly, sensing the sullen atmosphere. “I’d like to give each of the Gentlemen a chance to explain why Y/n should keep them in the show. Let’s go around the room. Yoongi?”

To Sejin’s left, perched on the end of the three-person couch, is the doctor himself, legs crossed and face relaxed. “Um, Y/n should keep me in becau-”

“Say it to her,” Sejin guides, shuffling back to move out of the way.

Reflexively, Yoongi glances up at you, and the calm warmth of his eyes reassures you. “Y/n, I’d ask you to keep me in because we’ve had a good time together so far, but there’s so much that we have yet to explore. Beyond that, I’d like to think I’m a good fit for the house, and I’ll continue to assist Jin-hyung in cooking many meals.” Once he’s done, he sends you a small smile, eyes glinting playfully.

The younger boy sitting next to him is not as cheerful. Bottom lip red from gnawing, Jungkook tucks his feet up on the couch, resting his chin on his knees. His eyes meet yours after Sejin signals for him to begin. “I really hope you don’t vote me out because I like it here a lot. You’re so cool, and the hyungs are so cool, and I feel really happy here. I know we haven’t spent a whole lot of quality time yet, but I want to, if I stick around long enough.”

You bite down harshly on your tongue, sending him a strained smile. Fuck, this sucks. Beside Jungkook is Hoseok, who props his elbow on the arm of the couch, posture casual but face stricken.

“Y/n,” Hoseok begins, voice tentative and uncharacteristically subdued, “you’re a very intelligent girl and you have a lot of potential in being a sub. I’d appreciate the opportunity to stay in and show you and the audience how enjoyable BDSM can be. We’re all very lucky men to be on the show with you.”

On the couch beside, Namjoon is the next one around. He pauses, eyes dancing about the room as he thinks. “I think it probably doesn’t make much sense to keep me in the game,” he allows. “I’m not experienced like the others and so it’s a little hard to defend on that front, but I think me staying allows you the advantage of being my first and best experience. I feel like with just a bit more time, I’ll really grow into my element, and I feel safe doing it with you. So I really hope I stay.”

Squished beside him is Jin, who sends you a big grin, even if it doesn’t fully reach his eyes. “This is so shitty,” he says with a laugh, “it’s harder than I was prepared for before I came, and I think that’s due partly to the warm environment that we’re developing with each other, but also because you, Y/n, are a very genuine and lively person. Of course this is a game about sex, but I don’t think any one of us could say that’s the only factor here. As for me, I ask that you keep me in at least a week more because I can promise not only a good time, but also an ear if you need one, and advice should you ever want it.” He pauses to glance around the room. “That goes for all of you,” Jin adds, “I cannot believe that I don’t hate any of you, I don’t know how the producers found such great people.”

His words ease a bit of the tension, and the rest of you let out laughs of relief, your heart easing slightly.

Next, it’s down on the floor for Taehyung, who seems to prefer sitting cross-legged on the carpet to any other spot in the room. “I really wanna stay here,” he pleads with his eyes locked on yours, so earnest, “you’re so fantastic, and Jungkookie and the hyungs are all so fantastic, and I don’t wanna go home so soon. And also I think in terms of sex and stuff, I bring a lot to the table.” Taehyung avoids Sejin’s gaze, fiddling with the hem of his shirt innocently even as he stares up through his eyelashes at the rest of you cheekily. “I think we saw that yesterday. Though in the future, hopefully it’ll cost me less.” He sends a withering glare at Yoongi and Jin. “You assholes.”

You let out a chuckle, Jin huffing in response and Yoongi just shrugging with a shameless grin. Finally, it’s Jimin’s turn, and your chest pangs as you remember the last time you were together. The way he squeezed your hand gently before getting out of the car last night, the way he walked you to your bedroom door, wishing you sweet dreams. The way you saw an entirely different man to the one he’s been advertising.

His eyes on you are imploring even as his back is straight and legs crossed. “I value the time I spend with you. This is, after all, a game about sex so I’ll defend myself by saying you can rest assured I’m skilled enough to please you well, but if you allow me to stay,” he drops eye contact, fiddling with his rings even as he fights to remain poised, “I do hope it’s not the sex alone that keeps me here.” Like a switch is flicked, his momentary vulnerability vanishes, and he glances up and sends you a smile, warm and at-ease, having said his piece.

“And Y/n,” Sejin guides from beside you, his kind eyes on you, “anything to say to the guys?”

Your heart stutters in your chest. It’s been a week? Why is this so hard? “I- First of all, this decision has been insanely hard. You’re all amazing, not just in bed but as people, and I hope that whoever has to leave will still stay in touch. It feels really cruel that I have to say goodbye to someone so soon. The reality is, none of you did bad, and there’s nobody I don’t like; nobody that doesn’t belong here. I’ve made my decision, but- I don’t know. I’m not happy with it, but I don’t think I’d be happy with any decision. In the end, I guess I just went for the least painful option.” You take a deep breath, eyes lifting to look at Hoseok, who sends you a sad smile. You open your mouth-

“Wait!” Sejin interrupts loudly. Everyone turns to look at him in unison, eyes wide. “There-” He breaks off with a sigh, glancing at the camera closest to him before looking back down at the group. “Listen; this will be edited out, but ratings have been doing far better than we’d ever anticipated. We already hired a third editor to keep up with demand and get more episodes out than was on the schedule, and there’s talk we may even start getting sponsorships because the support has been creating headlines, at least on Twitter. The higher-ups at Bangasm, well… they want to make an exception.”

You furrow your brows. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll see,” Sejin answers. “Act surprised.” The eight of you stare at him with varying degrees of bewilderment as he puffs his chest and carries his voice louder, switching back into producer mode. “Wait!” he repeats in the same tone as earlier. “The production team hasn’t been completely honest with you. This isn’t just a basic game with prompts each week like we told you. There will be a special advantage, a wildcard if you wish, that changes things up. They could affect the prompts, or how the game proceeds for that week. We call them Bangasm Bombs. And while we didn’t tell you, our production team has drawn the Bangasm Bomb for Week One.”

Sejin pauses to look at you all meaningfully. Jimin picks up the hint. “So; what’s the ‘Bangasm Bomb’ for this week?” he asks for you, gesturing quote marks with his fingers. 

Your mind is starting to whir, possibilities beginning to percolate in your mind, but you aren’t prepared for what Sejin says next.

“Nobody goes home this week.” 

Your mouth drops open, eyes darting around the room to see the open disbelief on the guys’ faces. “So I- I don’t have to send anyone home today?”

“No,” Sejin answers warmly, and you feel your shoulders sag in relief, a breath rushing out you didn’t know you were holding. Sejin winces, clearing his throat lightly. “That’s… the other thing.”

“Other thing?” Yoongi asks incredulously. “There’s more?”

“With the success of the show comes other benefits. For example; the CEO and treasurer of Bangasm have agreed to double our funding if we can keep the views up. No, Seokjin,” Sejin quips the second the eldest contestant raises his hand. Jin puts his hand down, lips pursed in a pout. “We’re changing the rules a bit. Before, we said if Y/n eliminated you, you’d pack your bags and leave. Now; you stay.”

Sejin can’t get another word out over the clamour that arises, everyone shocked and excited and confused all at once. He waves his hand for silence, and only after a minute or so everyone calms down. 

“So, there’s just no eliminating?” Jungkook asks with a comically quizzical look on his face.

“Please just let me explain,” Sejin requests, sighing. “Yes, there will still be eliminations. But if you get eliminated, you stay in the house.”

“So it’s a free pass,” Jungkook surmises.

“Not quite. No longer will you not be competing in the game, but you won’t be able to have sex with or sexually touch Y/n in any way. If you do, then you’ll be sent out of the house for good.”

“No sex with Y/n?” Taehyung asks meaningfully. “So… otherwise…?”

Sejin sighs, a tired laugh falling from his lips. “Just no sex with Y/n,” he confirms. “If you touch Y/n sexually, you go home. If Y/n touches you, of course we can’t send her home, so we’ve devised a punishment.” 

At the word punishment your head darts up to stare at the producer, but Hoseok beats you to the punch. “She’s gonna come join us in the bunkroom?”

“That’s for failing prompts, Hobi-hyung,” Namjoon points out, “Y/n doesn’t have any prompts.”

“Correct,” Sejin confirms. “If Y/n touches an eliminated member in a sexual manner, then that member gets to choose what she wears for the next 24 hours.”

You frown. “That doesn’t sound so…” you trail off when you glance up, only to be met with seven hungry sets of eyes. You can just about see the cogs turning in their brains as they stare at your body. “Ah.”

“Yes. So stick to the rules, and you get, as Jungkook so elegantly put, a free pass minus Y/n. Got it?”

The eight of you stay silent, still shell-shocked from the two revelations. This changed things. Now, when you voted someone off, they would get to stay, but they would get to stay. You can see both the positive and negative possibilities there, and it’s no surprise that a reality show would have such a sneaky plot twist.

So you’d have all seven fucking you for one more week, and then all seven every week in the future, only with your sexual prospects dropping as you went. It does ensure that you’ll begin voting for them purely based on sexual performance; considering their personalities in the house wasn’t an issue if you’d have those anyway. 

As you glance around the room, you can’t help but wonder if your vote would’ve been different had you known that he’d get to stay. And you wonder if you’ll end up picking the same person in a week’s time, after a new set of prompts. The thought makes you sit up, turning to Sejin again.

“Will the boys draw their new prompts, then?” you ask. “Do I get to know the theme again?”

“Ah, of course-” Sejin breaks off to sit up, retrieving a stack of slightly crumpled papers from his back pocket. “This week’s theme is dynamics and roleplay. Come pick a card.”

Like last week, you pay close attention to the reactions of each of the seven. Namjoon blinks wide at his, but doesn’t seem as put off as last week, and his eyes go distant when he sits back down, like he’s already picturing it. Jimin takes two, one for him at one for Taehyung, and the two compare, Taehyung laughing at Jimin’s and Jimin smirking at Taehyung’s, brushing his clean-shaven cheek with the back of his knuckles and murmuring something in his ear. 

When Jin gets his, he bites his tongue and shakes his head with a light laugh, and Yoongi’s mouth drops open upon reading his card, eyes darkening with lust. Jungkook winces at first, but thinks on it a moment longer and grins eagerly, taking a second glance and scrunching his nose cutely at it. Hoseok takes his last, calmly reading it with a pleased smirk, sliding it into his front pocket and taking a seat.

Your breath leaves you in a slow stream. You’re back to the not-knowing. Dynamics and roleplay. It could really be anything, you supposed. Naughty schoolgirl, pizza delivery guy. You didn’t watch a lot of porn but you vaguely knew some of the tropes, and it’ll be a rather interesting week indeed.

“That’s not all, of course,” Sejin adds, and you feel like your brain could implode with the information dump that this morning has been. “Would you like to hear the Bangasm Bomb for Week 2?”

“We find out now?” Hoseok questions. “Not at the end?”

“Well, in order to fulfil it you need to know now,” the producer explains. “This week, Y/n may not sleep in her own bed, and she may not sleep in the same bed twice.”

You blink, not expecting it to be directed at you. “I what?” Your mind catches up with the rule, and you let out a light laugh. “So, I’ll have to share with the other guys?”

"Let's not forget the type of show we're on," Yoongi points out, leveling an impressed stare at the producer. "Well-played."

"Thank you," Sejin replies shortly. "Now, that'll be all. Just a reminder, if your scene isn't filmed, it doesn't count, and it's okay if Y/n guesses the prompt, but if you tell her directly then your prompt is void. Seokjin; we ordered you a set of chef's knives that should be here later today. Please stop spamming the company's inquiries email."

He's out of the room before Jin can even react, open-mouthed but smug like the cat that got the cream.

The eight of you sit in silence for a moment or two, still reeling. It's Hoseok in the end that recovers first.

"So we all stay," he muses. "Even if we get voted off, we stay. Why is that both a blessing and a curse?"

"This is reality TV," Jimin points out calmly, "and it's porn on top of it. Tension and drama skyrockets ratings. Well; I'm going to make some coffees if anyone wants one."

Most of the group move back into the kitchen, rifling through cabinets like zombies to make their breakfasts, but Namjoon approaches you hesitantly, biting on his lip.

"Y/n, can I talk to you? Privately?"

You stand up off the coffee table, though still you're lifting your chin to meet his gaze. "Sure," you reply easily, "privately or privately privately?"

"Um," he hesitates, glancing towards the entrance foyer, where across the hall lies the unfilmed rec room. "Just privately is fine for now."

Everyone else distracted with the prospect of food and hot coffee, it's easy enough to just sit on the stairs, side-by-side and thighs touching. Like this, you become aware of how much bigger he is than you. Namjoon's legs sprawl out down to the bottom of the stairs, socked feet slipping slightly on the glossy stone floor, whereas yours are tucked on the step below you. He glances down at you with a nervous disposition, but his eyes are surprisingly steady.

"Hoseok-hyung and I slept in the bunk bed room last night, as you probably know," he explains. "Him and I talked a lot. About a bunch of things, but he helped me realise something. And after I got the prompt today, I was sure."

Your eyes widen as they watch him carefully. The roots of his purple are starting to grow out in a soft brunette that makes him look even younger, his face round yet gently sculpted, chin pressed out in solemnity. "Sure of what?" you question quietly.

Namjoon takes a slow breath, rubbing his palms over his knees. "I think it's better if I don't lose my virginity while doing some cheesy role-play for a porn show, you know? I know I chose to come here knowing what I was walking into, but... Hoseok suggested maybe we could use the rec room for some privacy and then I could just fill my prompt later in the week. Of course, the producers will probably get annoyed at me not losing my virginity on camera, but they never said I had to, and I think I want it to be something just for me, you know? Something that's just you and me, outside of the show. I understand if you don't want to do that, but if you're happy to, I think I'm ready now."

You take a few moments to fully process his words, the gravity of them. "You sure you're ready? If you are, I'm happy to do that, Joonie. I want it to be good for you. You deserve that."

He smiles at that, broadly, but with his head ducked down. "That means a lot," he admits, "but yeah. I'm ready. If you want to...?" He trails off, tipping his head in the direction of the private rec room.

You sit up straight. "Oh! You mean- now now? Yes, I can do that, wow, okay-"

"If that's alright?" he asks hastily, face pinched with worry, but you just stand up, holding out a hand to him. He takes it, letting you lead him to the door.

From the few times you've needed to use this room, it's been pretty empty. It's small; most likely originally intended as extra storage or a home office, and the producers had put a visibly second-hand couch on one wall, a skinny coffee table and a lamp in there.

Generally, it's a glorified staffroom of sorts, a time-out that's more valuable for its lack of cameras than anything actually inside. Today, though, you freeze in the hallway at the sight that greets you.

With the table pushed to one side, boasting two bottles of water, a box of tissues, a bottle of self-heating lube and a small bluetooth speaker, the rest of the room has been converted into a massive bed.

The floor is covered with blankets, sheets and duvets, thick enough to be like a bedroll, with pillows stacked on the edges. They cover most of the floor, roughly the size of a queen size bed. On top of the impressive set-up are a colourful variety of packaged condoms, arranged in a tasteful love-heart.

Namjoon groans at the display, pinching his brow. "Hoseok said he'd set up for me and make it a little more comfortable, I'm sorry."

"It's cute," you say with a laugh, "are you wanting to use condoms?"

Namjoon swallows. "Uh, you- what would you prefer?"

You shrug, collecting them up and flicking through the buffet of options. You chuckle as the majority are L and XL. Unsurprising. "I mean, we don't need one. So if you want to feel everything fully, I say go bare."

"G-go bare, please," he coughs out awkwardly, shutting and locking the door behind him, double-checking the handle. "Can we put some music on? It's really quiet in here."

"Of course." You busy yourself with the music, smiling at the fact that he must have appreciated it last time. By the time you select a nice playlist on your phone and pick a decent volume, Namjoon's surprised you by hastily stripping down to his underwear, shyly rubbing at his knees.

You stand stock-still for a moment, just taking in the gorgeous sight of his body, all understated muscle and bold lines and planes. He must do some form of exercise, because his chest is thick, as are his thighs, and his lower stomach is soft but lean. He's gorgeous, and between your legs you feel your excitement grow.

Hustling to strip your clothes off as a gentle guitar strumming fills the air, you feel the cool cotton of the duvet under your knees as you straddle Namjoon, the man sucking in a breath as your clothed pussy presses flush against his hardness.

"Give me a kiss," you ask softly, a suggestion to let him take control, and a sigh of relief leaves his lungs as he cups your face in his hands, tugging your lips onto his greedily.

The ferocity with which he kisses you takes your breath away. It's powerful, greedy and demanding like he's waited an eon to kiss you again. While he was surprisingly skilful the first time, now it feels like he's come into his own.

You make a noise of surprise in the back of your throat as you feel his tongue slipping between your lips, licking up into your mouth like he's trying to devour you. You're drunk on it, mind feeling hazy, but you manage to pull away for a moment, gasping out a, "how the hell did you get this good?"

Grunting, Namjoon's eyes flutter open and one of his hands slips back to cup the nape of your neck securely, preventing you from backing up further. "Hoseok gave me some tips," he admits. "Now get back here."

You let yourself be pulled in again and eaten alive, muffled groans and sighs of bliss slipping out between swipes of tongue and flashes of teeth, nipping at your bottom lip until it's swollen and aching in the best way.

Without realising, you've begin to grind your hips against him, needing friction, and he pants into your mouth at the feeling. The pleasure makes him sloppy, and you groan as his lips leave yours, veering down to kiss along your jawline, tugging on your earlobe before sucking blossoms of colour down your throat. You tip your head back, arching into his mouth and rocking your hips against him, the friction addictive.

"Gonna fuck you now," you hear him groan against your collarbone, lips on your skin that's slick from his spit. Even in your heightened state of arousal you can sense the slight question in his voice, like he's checking you're still okay with it.

More than okay, you glance down to see the point that joins you, your panties so wet that the grey of his boxers is marred by a dark spot, wet and clinging to the stiff outline of his cock. You curse lowly at the sight of it. "Fuck, please, I need you, Joonie."

He lets out a strangled sigh, hands trembling slightly as he pushes down the waistband of his boxers so that it rests below his balls, cock bobbing up to rest at his stomach. He swallows hard, eyes closed and back resting against the base of the couch. The sheets beneath you have heated up with your body temperature, arousal radiating off the two of you in waves. 

When you first reach out to touch him, you keep your eyes on his face, on his reaction. The initial contact makes his brow twitch, eyes clenching shut. So thick your fingers don’t touch around him when you grasp his base, he’s definitely the biggest you’ve seen in the house; a touch of irony that the least experienced member had the biggest genetic advantage. His bottom lip finds his way tucked between his teeth, thighs tensing beneath you. 

“Joonie,” you mumble in a mock pout, “are you gonna fuck me now or so I have to do all the work myself?”

His eyes fly open, gaze landing on your widened eyes of innocence, before darting down to where you’re gently stroking him, fingertips catching on the sensitive ridge beneath his head. “Hobi-hyung said you should ride me so you can get used to it.”

You chuckle, tapping your thumb over his weeping slit, making him hiss. “Let’s stop thinking about what Hobi said and start worrying about what you want. Do you want me to ride you? Feel how tight I am for you?”

He curses, brows knitting as he nods shakily, and you can’t hold yourself back any longer. With a low curl of thrill in your stomach, you sit up so you can quickly slip off your panties, before straddling him again. He feels heavy when you brush his length through your sodden folds, readying him for you, and the thought makes you groan lowly. 

“Wanted you so bad,” you confess over the music in the background, now a simple drum beat that gives you rhythm as you grind your hips over him, letting his blunt head catch at your entrance. “Fuck.” His fingers are digging into your hips just with the feeling of your pussy clenching over his tip, and you lower yourself painfully slowly, adjusting to the way he stretches you to your limit, dragging inch by inch against your walls. 

“H-oh god, it is, it’s so tight,” he comments with a hitch in his voice, and again you feel the muscles of his thighs twitch, like he’s fighting the urge to bury himself in you. Though the thought of it is hot, you’re merciful that he’s giving you time to grow accustomed to the sheer girth of his dick inside you. 

“Does it feel good, Joonie?” you ask, the question panted as he takes your breath away, grinning at the quick stuttered nods he gives in reply, fingers flexing on the flesh of your hips and ass. By the time you’re sitting flush against his lap, you can barely breathe, a shaky hand pressing onto your stomach almost expecting to feel him bulging out of you from the inside. He’s not just the biggest on the show, but the biggest you’ve ever had, and you feel like you could cum just from rolling your hips against him. 

“You feel so amazing, Y/n,” he praises, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you in close so that he can press his lips to yours. You whine as he shifts in you, feeling shakier than ever, but appreciate the chance to adjust to him, tongue chasing his and fingers slipping into his hair as you kiss. 

You’re content to stay like that for as long as he continues to move his mouth against you, mouth watering at the feeling of cockwarming him and joining your bodies so intimately, but the excitement of new sensation gets to him, and after a while he begins to shift, holding your hips down and grinding his hips.

Your jaw drops open, hands flying out to grip at his shoulders at the feeling. He’s so deep you can barely comprehend it, can barely think with his cock filling you so completely, and find yourself pleading quietly, an unintelligible babble of more, please more, need more. He shifts his posture as you sit on his length, uncrossing his legs and instead bracing them in front of him. 

“Want me to fuck you like this?” he asks, nipping at your throat, and you shiver at the husky gravel of his tone. What happened to the shy virgin? 

“Please, Joonie,” you gasp, clenching around him, “need you to move.”

His first thrust takes your breath away, punching the air out of your lungs. When he moves inside you it feels monumental, like a core piece of you shifting, and your eyes water with the delicious burn. You whine when he pauses for a moment, hands slipping down to knead at your ass. Namjoon’s eyes are like molten dark chocolate as they focus on you, rich and intense, and when your head tips down to kiss him again it’s so needy your teeth clash, the keening whimper in your throat sign enough that you want more. 

It’s only once he begins to fuck you in earnest, bouncing you on his cock, that you see how truly affected he is. Strands of lilac cling to his temples as he sweats, chest heaving and hands trembling even as his fingers dig in hungrily. His lips are slick with spit, but he makes no move to wipe them clean, just biting onto his bottom lip and sucking, hips snapping up with bruising momentum. 

You can’t catch your breath, but still you chase his lips like oxygen, needing to be as close as possible. His panting keeps you anchored as you moan shamelessly, toes curling and back arching. Your high approaches quickly enough that it shocks you, but there’s no escaping the pleasure that rushes through you with every snap of his hips. 

You lose contact with his mouth, cheek resting limply on his shoulder as he speeds up his pace, the muscles in your legs failing you, twitching uncontrollably. 

“No, no, no, fuck,” Namjoon chants lowly, and you feel a hand bury in your hair, holding you to the crook of his neck, “I’m sorry, I’m not gonna last.”

You moan at that, feeling him stiffen impossibly more inside you with every thrust. “Wan’ you to cum,” you promise in his ear, barely more than a gasped breath, “wanna cum with you.” To end the statement, you nuzzle your nose against his throat and nip at his pulse point. To your surprise, he shudders violently, suddenly going stock still.

Your eyes widen as hot ropes of cum fill you, Namjoon clutching you to him helplessly, groaning nonsense as his orgasm hits him out of nowhere. Your own high recedes, but you barely notice it as you sit up tiredly and clench around him, watching the pleasure flicker across his face as he rides the high. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, eyes cast towards the ceiling and chest still heaving, “I’m so sorry, I… sensitive neck.”

You grin, running your hands up to gently brush over it, feeling him pulse inside you, spurting the final drops of cum from his spent cock. “Don’t apologise,” you assure, leaning in quickly to nibble at his lips and give him a lazy, indulgent kiss. “That was really fucking hot.”

He laughs, cheeks pinkening slightly, and you feel your heart warm at the return of the shy Namjoon you’d gotten used to. So he’s a lot more dominant and confident in the heat of the moment, you muse as he catches his breath, good to know.

When you find your strength again, slowly sitting up off him, you wince at the rush of cum leaving you, and the uncomfortable feeling of emptiness. That’s only exacerbated by the fact that you haven’t cum yet, but it’s his first time and you don’t want him to feel bad. Collapsing on the sheets beside him, you rest your head on his shoulder, breath still coming in shallow pants. “Good?”

“Good god, Y/n,” he exclaims earnestly, “I think I might be a sex addict now.” 

A surprised peal of laughter leaves your lungs, and you shove him playfully before crawling over to the coffee table, cracking open a bottle of water and cleaning yourself up with the available tissues. “Hoseok really did think this through, huh?” you muse, chucking him the box once you’re done.

Namjoon clears up the cum on his cock and thighs, grimacing at the way some of it has stained his boxers, but he sends you a guilty look. “I’m sorry.”

You frown, reaching for your clothes. “What do you mean?”

“You didn’t-”

Whatever Namjoon is about to say is cut off by a sudden thud that gives you both a fright, followed by three polite albeit enthusiastic knocks. You stare in bewilderment at the door, before hastily dressing yourself.

“Is everything alright?” Namjoon calls out, putting his underwear back on properly and hopping into his pants. “Has something happened?”

“I should hope so, young grasshopper!” an enthusiastic voice chirps from the other side of the door, muffled but unmistakably Hoseok. “You’ve popped your cherry, Kim Namjoon!”

The academic winces, reaching out to unlock the door once he’s made sure the two of you are dressed. “Hoseok, what are you doing? Wha-?” He breaks off once he opens the door, and you rush around behind him to see what gave him pause. 

In the foyer are Hoseok, Taehyung and Jin, all in matching paper birthday hats, the strings of thin elastic digging into their chins. Hoseok’s holding two more in his hands, and he thrusts them towards you as Taehyung wiggles the weighty bottle of champagne in his grasp. Behind them, Jin calmly holds a kitchen knife.

“What’s going on?” you ask in bewilderment, stepping out into the foyer and wincing at the ache between your legs with each step. “Why the fuck are you holding a knife?”

Jin, his bright blue party hat on at a jaunty angle, stares down at his hands blankly before gasping, tucking it behind his back. “Sometimes I forget I’m still holding it.”

“That’s extremely alarming,” Namjoon says with a frown. “I still don’t understand why you’re all gathered outside the door.”

“It’s time for the party, hyung,” Taehyung explains, “to celebrate you finally getting your dick wet.”

Your cheeks go flaming red as you glance at Namjoon, the poor man spluttering and eyes wide like he didn’t know what to do. “If there’s champagne, I’m there,” you announce calmly. “Come on, Joonie, let’s go celebrate.”

Namjoon visibly relaxes when you aren’t offended, flicking you a warm smile. “Is everyone wearing a hat?” he questions incredulously, taking the thin cone card. 

“Mo-mostly everyone,” Hoseok answers suspiciously. 

“It’s just you guys, isn’t it?”

“Well, if you both wore one, we’d have the majority.”

You grin, patting Hoseok on the shoulder as you walk past him into the foyer. “Let’s just go,” you call out to the guys behind you, “there better be food.”

As expected, the three that greeted you were the only ones wearing party hats. At the dining table, which has been laden with aromatic dishes, steaming rice and empty champagne flutes, the other three await. Jimin’s is resting beside his plate and chopsticks, untouched. Beside him, Yoongi has his upside down, using it as a bowl for the rice snacks he’s munching happily on. The youngest man in the house hasn’t even noticed you’ve arrived, using it like a very inefficient telescope, one eye scrunched shut and the other focused on the pinhole at the top of the cone. Sitting at the head of the table, he aims it at Jimin, mouth hanging open as he tries to see through the tiny gap.

Giving up, he waves the wide end around the room, desperate to catch a glimpse of something. Once the cone lands on the five of you, he gasps, chucking down the party hat. “You’re back! I didn’t start eating the cake, like you said!” 

Jin frowns. “That sounds awfully suspicious.” Knife still in hand, he makes his way to the kitchen island, where you catch a glimpse of a beautifully iced cake with writing on the top that you’re too far away to read. 

Jungkook shifts restlessly in his seat, staring worriedly at Jin. “The- um, the birds attacked it.” If you look closely, you think you can see the slightest hint of vanilla icing in the crook of his mouth. 

Jin stares at the cake desolately. “The birds?” he deadpans.

“Seagulls, you know,” Jungkook tries to pass off casually, the pink of his tongue dashing out to lick the sugar off his lips. “Absolute vultures.”

Hoseok tsks in disappointment. “Was it seagulls or was it vultures?”

Jungkook stays silent an inexplicably long amount of time, glancing slowly between Hoseok and Jin. His eyes are wide like he’s trying to work out the lie in his head “...It was me.” 

Jin’s fingers are pressed to his temple as he sighs. “Right.” Setting down the knife, he picks up the cake and brings it to the table, placing it in the middle of the table. The rest of you all take a seat, filling in the spaces around the table. Taehyung slips in beside Jimin, Hoseok at the end of the table opposite Jungkook, and finally Jin, Namjoon, and you take the last of the seats. 

The cake is beautiful, neat and fluffy buttercream all over with swooping cursive written in a thin black stream. Unfortunately, a very delicate but obvious slice has been taken out so you have to focus to work out what the writing says. Once you do, you let out a reluctant chuckle, watching Namjoon blush once more, tucking his hands into the sleeves of his shirt shyly.

“‘Here lies Namjoon’s virginity,’” you recite, “‘1994-2020.’ Who came up with that?”

“That’s not impor-” Jin begins, but Taehyung swiftly cuts him off.

“I did!” he declares proudly. “Everyone agreed mine was funnier than Jin-hyung’s.”

“Obviously not everyone,” Jin replies bitterly, dishing himself up some of the rice closest to him. “Dig in, everyone, Yoongi and I worked hard on this. And congratulations Namjoon,” he adds, though he sends Namjoon a genuine smile, eyes twinkling. 

After everyone says their congratulations, the food is dug into and the cork of the bottle is popped, conversation flowing like the champagne. 

Over time, Namjoon seems to get used to the chatter about sex, perhaps not feeling so left out of the loop, and his face is more open and relaxed than ever, a dimple poking out when he smiles. You occasionally reach out to shove him playfully or squeeze his arm as the chatter continues, and he no longer freezes or stiffens up. It warms your heart that he feels a little more comfortable amongst you.

You’re happy to tuck into your meal, having worked up an appetite for lunch, but it’s barely more than a second after finishing your first helping that your phone buzzes. 

You slip it out casually, frowning when you see it’s a notification that you’ve been added to a group-chat. 

After that, you smother a scoff and slip your phone back into your pocket, hoping if your cheeks are red they can safely be attributed to the alcohol.

Glancing up, you see Jungkook stand up suddenly, eyes wide with barely-contained excitement as he picks up his bowl, chopsticks and champagne flute, scurrying over to dump them in the sink before disappearing upstairs. Yoongi stares at his empty seat in confusion, but shrugs and takes another mouthful of cake. You eat yours quickly enough that your stomach flips, or perhaps that’s just the anticipation.

After you’re done it takes you a few moments to build up the courage to look across to Hoseok, feeling his gaze hot on your skin. When you do, your eyes lock immediately, but he just continues to stare, lips pressed in a narrow line. 

Your heart leaps for a moment, wondering what that hard gaze means for you later on. Silently, as Taehyung continues to explain something to him with a mouth half-full of food, Hoseok lifts his eyebrow once, gaze darting to the roof. The message is clear. Go upstairs.

Biting your lip, you let Namjoon know you’re heading up, waving off his concern until he’s pulled back into a thread of conversation. You try to ignore the uncertain adrenaline rush that makes your hands tremble and your core throb all the way upstairs, until you’re knocking on Jungkook’s door.

The two of you share a look once he opens the door, one of anticipation and desire, and you let out a breathy chuckle. 

“What the fuck have we gotten ourselves into?” you ask rhetorically, stepping in and collapsing onto the bed. 

“I’ll take it if it means getting a good fuck,” he states matter-of-factly, sitting himself beside you and tucking his legs up. “Besides; I’ve wanted to see Hobi-hyung in action for a while.” 

Sitting up, you think back to that day in the confessional booth, where he had so easily made you fall apart without even taking a single item of clothing off. You wondered if he’d deprive you of his body tonight as well. 

“I think he’s angry at me,” you admit, “before I left, he looked… intense.” 

“Why would he be angry at you?” Jungkook asks with a frown, his hand slipping under the baggy fabric of his black tee, rubbing at his shoulder like he’s aching to take the item off. 

You go to shrug, but then your mind flicks back to this morning. “The elimination,” you realise, dread rising in your stomach just as much as your arousal is. “I think he knows I was going to eliminate him.” 

Jungkook’s eyes widen, round enough to be saucers. “Wait, really? Why him?”

You find the words dry up in your throat. “I- God, I don’t know. How am I meant to choose anyone when you’re all amazing? Maybe his had the least impact on me, I suppose.” You eye the door to the walkway warily. “I guess he’s determined to change that now.” 

Instead of replying, you’re taken aback when Jungkook throws his arms around you in a tight hug, his long hair brushing at your neck and shoulder as he tucks his chin into the hollow of your collarbone. Hesitantly, you bring your own arms up to hug him back, feeling your tension melt in the warm embrace.

“It must be so hard,” he murmurs, “I don’t think Hobi-hyung is really mad, you know? He probably just feels like he wasn’t good enough for you and wants to prove himself.” 

This thought just sends another spike of guilt through you, but you have no time to dwell on it before the door is clicking open, making you and Jungkook instinctively jump apart. 

Hoseok stands there, as intimidating as last time in all-black. Though he’s wearing just socks instead of the heavy duty boots he was in that day, there’s no denying the power he holds in the clothes he wears like armour. Leather pants so snug they’re like a second skin and a black long-sleeved shirt, tight but breathable cotton with a harness of thin leather straps providing some structure. His raven hair is swept back, but just a single stray lock hangs low over his brow, drawing your eyes back to his. “Starting without me?” he questions lightly, though his face is devoid of humour.

You swallow hard. “No… Master,” you add, seeing the expectant look on his face. Once he steps further into the room, you notice the black bag that was previously hidden behind his back. The duffel bag from last time. You suck in a breath and clench your thighs before you can even think to stop yourself, and Hoseok’s positively gleam at the sound. 

“Both of you have been very naughty today,” he explains, dumping the bag on the bed beside Jungkook, beginning to casually pull a heap of bright red nylon rope out. “Little Jungkookie ate the cake that Jin-hyung worked so hard on, even when he was specifically asked not to. And Y/n… Y/n knows exactly what she did.” Your eyes widen when Hoseok sets the multiple lengths of rope to one side in a neat folded coil and reaches back into the bag to produce a pair of wide, heavy-duty shears.

“Woah, hyung,” Jungkook exclaims in alarm, “I can apologise for the cake, I-”

“Settle, Jungkook, it’s okay,” Hoseok explains softly. “I told you we’re gonna be tying you up, yeah? This is so that we can cut the ropes quickly in case you want out. They aren’t part of the scene.”

You feel a thrill run through your veins at the gentle click of metal resting on the nightstand once Hoseok sets the scissors down. He hadn’t needed them for when your arms were tied. It meant that whatever you were going to do tonight would be more intense. The thought of everyone else downstairs having a good time and hanging out while you and Jungkook were up here getting bound by Hoseok… it somehow feels even more illicit and dirty. 

“Let’s do Jungkookie first, hm?” the dom proposes. “I’ve been wanting to see what you’d look like all prettied up for me. Choose red just for you.” 

Jungkook positively preens at the compliment, hands tucking into his lap and chest puffing out. “I’m excited, Master!”

Hoseok gestures for Jungkook to remove his clothes with a flat expression. “Don’t be,” he retorts calmly, “this isn’t a reward, it’s discipline. We’re going to learn a lesson about behaving.”

The camboy trembles, hastily shucking off his baggy shirt and pushing his sweatpants down, naked except for a pair of white socks. Your breath is taken away by how easily he bares himself to the cameras and to the two of you, eyes eager and nervous as Hoseok picks up one of the longer lengths of rope.

“I want you to kneel, Jungkookie,” Hoseok instructs, “kneel on the bed for me, arms at your sides.” 

Jungkook obeys, breath hitching as Hoseok approaches, passing the coil over his palm. You watch with baited breath as a bright red strand of rope is run around his narrow waist. As the professional dom begins looping, knotting and wrapping the rope around Jungkook’s torso, the boy’s eyes grow lidded, cock twitching as it rests back against his lower abdomen. 

It takes a while, but time is as smooth as velvet in the soft silence of the room, just gentle breaths and the whir of nylon rope sliding so beautifully along Jungkook’s skin. 

By the time Hoseok is done, Jungkook’s eyes barely open, so content with the feeling of being patiently wrapped up, and he hums lightly as Hoseok rechecks the tightness of each loop, slipping two fingers between rope and skin in several places. 

Rather than bondage or restraint, this looks like art. An elaborate harness of red contrasts beautifully against the pale golden flesh below, hardness of his chest and abs softened by the vaguely fishnet pattern, loops that interlock and curve across his body gracefully, the most careful and precise lattice of scarlet ropes.

“Pretty, isn’t he?” Hoseok questions, and a finger comes down to run through the glossy precum that has been smeared onto Jungkook’s lower stomach. The boy hisses, arching his hips up in search of contact, but all it takes is a sharp swat at the head of his cock and Jungkook is whining, thighs flexing with the force of keeping still. “Patience, my little prince,” Hoseok tuts, patting Jungkook’s cheek with a hand still wet with the camboy’s own precum, “we’re gonna teach you how to be patient today.”

Jungkook groans low in his throat, lips parting at the term of endearment, and Hoseok grins at it, tiger-like. 

“Oh, do you like that, hm? Wanna be my special prince today?” Hoseok runs his fingers through Jungkook’s long hair, the camboy sucking in a sharp breath when they snag on some knots. Jungkook nods, eyes round and glittering as he looks up at his Master. Hoseok pouts, tapping him once on the end of his button nose. “It’s a shame you weren’t behaving today, then wasn’t it? Maybe if you’re good for me tonight, you can earn it.”

Jungkook’s brows lift pleadingly, looking so small under Hoseok’s harsh stare. “I’ll be good, though, Master.”

“Mm, I’m sure you will,” Hoseok confirms, swiping a thumb over Jungkook’s nipple to make him shiver, before he fixes an iron gaze onto you.

You swallow, slipping out of your clothes as quickly as you can once he gives the same gesture as before, crossing your legs and arms to try and preserve some dignity. Hoseok just tuts, picking up two of the remaining sections of nylon rope, only one still left waiting on the bed. 

“Hands at your sides, kneeling,” he instructs sharply, and you feel the way your walls clench at the authority in his voice as you hustle to get into position. 

The harness he puts you in is different to Jungkook’s, accentuating your breasts with bands both above and below them, leaving your stomach free but doubling the rope over so that every loop that wraps around you is twice as thick. The final tie is slipped up between your breasts, around the back of your neck and tucking back down to hold it all together, and your breath shallows at the secure feeling of the rope. 

It’s peaceful; the warm stripes of friction as he pulls strands through loops, the gentle flicking of the ends against your skin until he folds them away, the way it embraces your chest so snugly, but not too tight. It’s only once he’s done checking the rope like he did with Jungkook that he picks up the second, shorter length of nylon, and by then you already feel the sleepy yet electric haze of subspace seeping throughout your body.

“Hands,” he instructs, and you hold them out for him, watching with heightened arousal as he binds them, the rope wrapping around and between your wrists until they’re locked together. Last time your hands were bound behind your back but like this, you can watch him as he works.

It’s quick - a testament to his expertise - but you spend every moment with your eyes locked onto him. The eyes, gleaming with control and satisfaction, the pink tip of his tongue poking out just slightly as he focuses. His thin fingers, looping and wrapping and knotting with such skill. 

His last move, eyes darting up and smirking once he catches you watching him, is to connect the thick cuff-like ropes to the top of your harness, pinning them up to your chest, folded hands resting at the base of your throat. You instinctively tug once he’s done, only to feel the rope around your back tighten and dig in, but no distance made. The feeling of being at his mercy only adds to the slick gathering between your thighs. 

Once he steps back, eying the two of you up, your breath catches in your throat. Both you and Jungkook are fully naked, somehow feeling even more vulnerable in the rope, and Hoseok stands across from the bed in all his black leather glory, eyes raking over you like he’s assessing his work. 

“Are you gonna touch us, Master?” Jungkook questions in a small voice, fingers clutching at his own thighs, cock flushed and needy between them. 

“Not you yet, Jungkookie. Gotta warm Y/n up first.” Your eyes widen - for what? - but Hoseok is moving closer run a hand down Jungkook’s back, fingers jumping over the strands of rope. “Do you wanna help me, baby?”

Jungkook nods, blushing when Hoseok pinches lightly at his cheek. 

Hoseok leans over to you, carding his fingers into your hair and curling them in so that he can hold you steady. Like this, kneeling on the bed, you have to tilt your head back to meet his gaze, but he just tuts, holding you face-forward to Jungkook. “You wanna give her a kiss, Kookie?”

You swallow, fingers interlocking together as you look over to the camboy. He looks so needy, blissed out and pretty in his red rope, cock untouched and weeping. Your lips part automatically, tongue darting out to wet your lips and you don’t miss the way Jungkook’s eyes are drawn to it, lids now as he nods. 

With your hands pinned to your chest and kneeling, you don’t feel able to meet him halfway so you just wait as Jungkook crawls to you, glancing up at Hoseok for permission before burying your hands in your hair alongside the dom’s. With barely a second to suck in a breath, Jungkook ducks his head, his lips descending onto yours with sweet, unrestrained need. 

Unable to touch him back, you let your eyes slip shut with the soft presses of his mouth, taking everything he gives you. Everything about Jungkook in this moment is soft; his lips, his thumbs brushing across your cheekbones, even the subtle scent of vanilla as his hair tickles your face - but the stiff grip in your hair is anything but, reminding you where exactly you are and the hand you’re under.

Your breath hitches as two things happen at once; Jungkook’s tongue presses into your mouth, deepening the kiss, and behind you Hoseok shifts, getting up on the bed behind you. Though you can’t see him, you become even more aware of his commanding presence, through the simple gesture of a fingertip, tracing beside lines of rope with a touch so light you shiver.

“You both look so pretty for me,” Hoseok murmurs warmly, his voice closer than you’d expected him to be, sounding like it’s right beside your air. Jungkook doubles his efforts in response, and your core is alight with excitement when you instinctively go to touch him, only to be reminded of the restraint you’re in. 

Jungkook kisses without abandon, not hurried but deep and purposeful. Though you still tremble under Hoseok’s teasing touch, your mind is so enraptured by Jungkook’s tongue in your mouth and teeth on your lips that you lose track of it. 

The camboy doesn’t dare venture his hands further than your face, cupping it so tenderly as he delves into you, so your eyes fly open with shock when two fingers are suddenly slipping through your folds, running over your clit for a single delicious moment of pleasure. You moan in shock and pull away to look down.

Between your kneeling legs is the slender but calloused hand of your Master himself, wrapped around your front and slipping inside you without question like you’re his. His to explore, his to ruin. You pant at the intrusion of two fingers, clenching around him, but his only response is to tug suddenly at your hair, pulling your gaze back up again.

Nipping sharply at the bridge of your ear, Hoseok scolds you. “I didn’t tell you to stop,” he growls harshly, “did I?”

“Sorry, Master,” you reply without thinking, barely a moment before you let out a muffled squeak from Jungkook joining you together again, wasting no time to obey. 

Hoseok doesn’t stop his motions between your legs; on the contrary, he continues without pause, fingers moving inside you with a steady urgency. 

For a while, your brows furrow, hips rocking below him. He keeps missing your g-spot, fingers too straight to press against it on each thrust, and he moves to three fingers without touching your clit at all, hand held foward off of you to avoid friction. You moan brokenly into Jungkook’s mouth as you realise Hoseok’s doing it intentionally, stretching you out almost clinically, without regard or want for your pleasure. You go weak at the thought, sinking forward into Jungkook’s embrace, but soon enough the fingers are removed from you completely. Empty and unsatisfied just like earlier, you huff and begin to kiss the camboy more frantically, desperate for some pleasure to replace it. 

But Hoseok clearly isn’t having it. “Stop,” he commands shortly, “hands off.”

Jungkook sits back quickly, making sure you won’t slump over before he presses his hands to his thighs again, cock twitching at the continued neglect. Blinking, he licks his swollen lips and glances behind you to Hoseok in confusion. “Master?”

Your mouth goes dry when you hear the unmistakable sound of a zip being lowered. Hoseok’s hand leaves your hair suddenly, and you feel unmoored between the two men, just you and your hands tucked under your chin. “You tasted her pretty little pussy in Week One, didn’t you, Jungkookie? Would you like her to return the favour?”

Eyes wide, you drop your gaze down to Jungkook’s aching dick, as it twitches and leaks another thin trail of precum, the boy groaning. “Please, Master.” His fingers flex, holding back from touching it. “‘Hurts,” he whines.

You bite your lip, mouth watering. He’s not as big as Namjoon, but you know how fully he filled you just yesterday, and to have him in your mouth… “Please,” you croak out, fingers wiggling in the air as you’re unable to lower yourself to him. 

“Good girl,” Hoseok praises, hands strong on your shoulders as he helps you down, elbows propping yourself up awkwardly in the space that Jungkook’s shuffled back from. “Gotta warm Kookie up too, don’t we? Open up, princess.”

Like this, you’re able to keep upright, but barely, craning your neck to look up at Jungkook. His cock is in front of you, and this close you can see just how flushed it is, the tip almost perfect. Hoping your pleading gaze can communicate your desperation, you open your mouth, letting your tongue rest just over your bottom lip.

Jungkook’s brows furrow in wanton need as he glances towards Hoseok. “Can I touch her, Master? Help her?”

“Of course,” Hoseok’s voice allows from behind you, palms running over the flesh of your ass, “but my little prince better not cum.”

Jungkook visibly shivers at the nickname, hips jerking uselessly. “Y-yes, Master,” he allows, before tipping your chin up so gently, gripping himself to guide his length into your waiting mouth. 

You moan the moment your lips wrap around his tip, the tang of his precum bursting on your tongue as you flick it over the slit, making Jungkook thrust up again, enough that his cock reaches the back of your mouth. You’re barely able to avoid gagging, but you inhale harshly through your nose, blinking up at him as he brushes your hair back with a shaky apology. 

Knowing he can’t orgasm, Jungkook seems happy enough to lazily roll his hips, just enjoying the wet warmth around him as you follow his rhythm, enjoying the slight ache of your jaw around his girth. Hoseok gives you only a few moments to reach this equilibrium before you feel his cock lining up against you. 

Eyes widening, you’re given no time to prepare as he slides inside you, slowly but without pause, making your back arch with the intrusion.

You moan, muffled, as Hoseok pulls out and begins to pick up a steady pace, once again sliding right past your g-spot, not fast enough to make your toes curl and not deep enough to make your eyes roll. There’s no denying he’s doing it on purpose, and the thought that he might not let you cum at all has you whining desperately around Jungkook’s cock, loud enough that Hoseok hears.

To your disappointment, he tsks and pulls out, tugging at your hair to pull you off Jungkook. “What the fuck?” you complain bitterly, sucking off the drool that’s accumulated in the corners of your mouth. Equally deprived, Jungkook makes a noise of confusion, but before he can speak up, a commanding voice calls out to you.

“That’s it, on your back,” Hoseok orders, making you jump as he smacks the flesh of your ass. “If you’re gonna be ungrateful you won’t get anything at all.”

You pout, craning your neck to look back at him. “Hobi,” you whine, hoping to appeal to that soft inner that got you what you wanted the last time you were scening with him, but it doesn’t work. 

Impatient, his hands find your hips, flipping you around unceremoniously. Your breath is punched out of you as you’re suddenly landing on your back, and you whimper as he hooks a finger in your harness over the top of your breast, using it to tug you higher up the bed so that him and Jungkook are on either side of your waist. 

“You’ve been far better behaved,” Hoseok directs at Jungkook casually, reaching into the duffle bag to pull out a square foil packet, “so you’ll get my cock instead.”

Jungkook bites his lip harshly, shuffling on his knees as Hoseok rolls a condom on. “Thank you, Master,” he replies politely, eyes lidded and needy. 

“What a good boy,” Hoseok coos, reaching over to brush a fond hand over Jungkook’s cheek. “Do you wanna fuck Y/n too, my little prince?” You let out a low groan at the prospect, at the way Hoseok speaks for you like you’re a toy of his. The thought is more erotic than you’d expect, and your legs part unconsciously.

Jungkook whimpers at the sight, dark hair curling at his temples with perspiration. “Please, Master.”

“Go on, then, baby.” Hoseok gestures for him to straddle you, and you whimper as Jungkook’s form blocks the light from the ceiling, framing him in a silhouette of dark hair. 

Your legs part further as he settles between them, cock brushing between your folds lightly until he puts a hand down to line himself up. With one arm bracing himself, Jungkook slowly drives his cock deep inside you, small rocking motions to get you accustomed to him as he bottoms out. The two of you groan in unison, the feeling of being full again like bliss.

Before Jungkook can set a pace, you hear Hoseok’s voice again behind him. “There’s only one thing,” the dom adds in an apologetic tone, “Y/n hasn’t earned an orgasm yet, not like my sweet prince has. If you want to fuck her, Jungkookie, she better not cum.”

You let out a frustrated moan, heel kicking into the mattress. “Fuck,” you whine, hips already rocking against Jungkook’s length inside of you, “are you serious?”

Calmly, Hoseok clicks open a bottle of what must be lube, and you feel Jungkook go lax above you, holding his weight off of your torso but dropping his head onto the bed beside yours, groaning lowly. “Of course I’m serious,” he explains simply as he preps Jungkook with his fingers, “I’m doing you a favour, Y/n. This way you won’t make the same mistake twice.”

You sob, feeling Jungkook twitch inside you from the pleasure he’s receiving from Hoseok. As the dom finally deems Jungkook ready and lines himself up, you realise why Hoseok was so popular at his job. Handling two subs, let alone one who was getting punished and one who was now getting rewarded, was a tough balance, and yet he does it with such cool and professional ease. 

Jungkook curses, rocking his hips with stuttered gasps, and you feel the impact of Hoseok’s hips through Jungkook’s body as he thrusts the first time, the camboy hurriedly throwing his other arm up on the other side of your head to prop himself up with more stability. You can feel the rhythm as he gets fucked, and the way his chest heaves, breaths panting over your bare shoulder. 

With your hands tied to your chest and lain on your back, you quickly realise there is nothing you can do to chase any pleasure for yourself, and you let out another low sob. You won’t be making the same mistake twice indeed, you muse as Jungkook barely shifts inside you. He feels so good, but it’s just not enough for you to get anywhere close to your own high. The lesson has most certainly been learned; if you want pleasure, you play by Hoseok’s rules.

“Please, Master,” you pipe up desperately, looking past Jungkook’s shoulder to the dom’s face, calm even as his hips rock with the graceful fluidity of a dancer, every stroke making Jungkook cry out. “I’ll do anything, Master, I’m sorry for being bad, just please let me come!”

A grin spreads across his face, satisfied, even as he grunts from exertion, Jungkook trembling above you as he’s brought mercilessly to the edge. “It’s too late for that,” Hoseok pants out with a chuckle, “it’s already time for my little prince to cum.”

Jungkook moans, a high-pitched keen at the pet-name, and the sound is so sinful you can’t help but clench, making him stiffen impossibly inside you. 

It only takes a thrust or two more, and a gruff command to cum before Jungkook does just that, spilling inside you with a drawn-out whine, thanking his Master with every breath he can suck into his lungs. 

He manages to keep his weight off of you as he rides his high, Hoseok fucking him into oversensitivity before he pulls out, leaving briefly to discard the condom. Jungkook pulls out of you with a wince, but a satisfied one, and rolls over onto his back, running his fingers under the lines of rope lazily as he catches his breath.

Once Hoseok returns, he begins untying you first, and as your wrists are loosened from your chest and promptly released, the cool air on your skin feels like defeat. Your eyes slip shut, a pout no doubt on your lips as you give him nothing but dead weight, forcing the professional to manhandle your torso as he undoes the rope bit by bit. 

You open your eyes once he’s done, frowning at him as he releases the rope from Jungkook’s body. Without looking, Hoseok chastises you. “Don’t look at me like that,” he scolds, “I’m sure next time you’ll be behaved like our Jungkookie here.” The boy in question preens softly at the compliment, blinking up at Hoseok as the dom brushes his hair out of his eyes.

The sight warms your heart, and you can’t deny that Hoseok has the right to discipline you, no doubt feeling self-conscious about his place on the show. And the feeling of him playing you so skilfully is something that will stick with you for a good while. You press your thighs together, sighing out at the slick still between them.

After finishing with Jungkook, speaking quietly with him in praise or reassurance, he comes back around to you, rubbing at the few red marks on your chest and wrists that have appeared from your movements. His eyes search your face, and you’re surprised to see the absolute calm in them, clearly switched out of the Master persona and just into a dominant but caring one. “Not hurt?” 

You shake your head after taking the time to really think it through, wiggling your fingers and toes.

“Not angry?” 

Again, you take a moment to consider, but shake your head.

Hoseok smiles down at you, warm as he squeezes your hands fondly. “Good. Now I know you can’t sleep in your own bed, so Jungkookie has kindly offered for you to stay here with him. Take care of each other, okay? I’m just down the hall.”

By the time Hoseok zips up his pants - you note that even after all that, you hadn’t seen him properly naked - and gathers his bag, Jungkook’s managed to slip his legs under the blankets, snoring away peacefully with the aftermath of a good orgasm.

After the dom leaves, you get under the covers yourself, watching the relaxing cycle of Jungkook’s chest rising and falling, the way his eyes flutter lightly in his sleep, but it doesn’t lull you to unconsciousness.

Instead, the unsatisfied throb between your legs just grows more ferocious than ever. If you could just get yourself off…

Your hand trails down, slipping between your legs naturally, but the first swipe of your index finger against your clit gives you pause. Hoseok had pretty clearly stated that you weren’t to masturbate without permission unless you were in a scene with another contestant and, well… 

You grimace as Jungkook snuffles in his sleep, wriggling around to get more comfortable. You can’t exactly wake him up.

Which leaves you with only one option.

Fuck it. As quietly as you can, you slip out of bed, stumbling over to your pile of clothes. After retrieving your phone - still somehow tucked neatly into your pants pocket - you hop back into bed and seek out the one contact who can alleviate your need. Hoseok himself.

You answer the call with shaking fingers, those not still buried inside you. When Hoseok’s voice comes through, it’s thankfully quiet and low, but the words still make you keen.

“Princess couldn’t wait until the morning, hm?” Hoseok chuckles quietly at your whine of response. “That’s okay. Let Master help you.”

You sigh out, sitting the phone so that it lies on the pillow beside you. “Please, Master,” you whisper, “can I touch my clit?”

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, “such a polite girl now. Baby took her lesson well. You can touch it, princess. Get yourself close for me.”

When you change the angle of the fingers thrusting inside you to make room to rub at your clit, you could cry from the satisfaction, biting your lip to muffle the moan that’s pulled from your lungs. 

Glancing quickly beside you to ensure Jungkook’s asleep, the sight of him sleeping so peacefully as you get off right beside him has you clenching down, and your back arches off the bed. 

Your high is close, and the faster you strum your clit frantically, the more you pant, desperate to keep quiet. Your mouth drops open as you suddenly feel the orgasm approaching, and you turn to the phone on the pillow, getting close enough that he can hear your whisper. “I’m go-gonna cum, Hoseokie, fuck,” you choke out before quickly pressing your lips together, preventing further noise.

His voice is low velvet on the phone, a calm command. “Cum for Master now, princess.”

You feel your orgasm hit you like a tsunami, crashing so violently that you curl over your hands, shivering and convulsing as pleasure rocks every inch of your body. As it floods you entirely, you feel hot tears stream down your face, ones you didn’t even know you were shedding. Your thighs shake and your chest heaves and you don’t stop your fingers until there’s no more pleasure left to be milked from you. 

When you finally cum down from your high, panting, you fumble clumsily for the phone. “Tha-thank you, Master.”

Perhaps it’s the post-orgasm delirium, but you swear you hear the smile in his voice when he murmurs, “you’re most welcome, princess. Now get some rest. You’ve earned it.”

After hanging up, you lock your phone and chuck it down onto the carpet beside the bed carelessly, the wetness between your thighs no longer uncomfortable, now just a satisfying reminder of the pleasure he finally allowed you. Taking one last look at the tranquil face of Jungkook as he slept, you let yourself join him in a blissful unconsciousness.

ELIMINATION GRAPH

No elimination this week ! What a doozy, huh? If you were curious, here are the results of the vote!

It was taken after exactly 48 hours of the poll being open, and required a sign-in with email to prevent spamming so that it was as fair as possible!

In the future, we’ll use this format for both Fan Favourite and Elimination voting. I’ll tell you the top three for audience fan-favourites in the following chapter, and for elimination you’ll find out Y/n’s final decision in the following chapter, plus this graph at the end for the complete results.

Thanks for all your support !