#mostly because most of the characters were minor characters but it was way too many

[annoyingloudmicrowavecultist]

ugh i can’t vote for anyone in the tboy swag semifinals bc i have a grudge against all of them. joking i love them but. doof took out apollo, miles took out barney, link took out mettaton, sonic took out apollo in the general trans swag competition. my approach to these polls has always been pettiness first and who i think should win second and im not changing now

[soapisahimbo]

Jealousy - Simon 'Ghost' Riley Headcanons

Hi can I request any jealous/ possessive ghost head canons? NSFW PREFERABLY. Where he gets jealous and tries to distance the team from being too touchy with you or even to joke around with you. But they don’t know y’all are dating of course. So he has to fight his feelings and eventually taking it out on you if you know what I mean wink*wink*. Or the things he’ll do to show the others that you are his only and that’s when they got the clue. Please?

Wow, I'll admit, this was a bit of a challenge. Also I wrote it as a headcanon list, I hope that's what you were aiming for! I was honestly a bit unsure on how to approach this, and I'm a little unsure about how it turned out, but I genuinely hope that you enjoy it!

Containts heavy smut elements, so minors stay away!

warnings: simon is a jealous bitch, it gets rough, borderline dubcon, genderneutral reader/genderneutral anatomy

Simon has no lack of faith and trust in you. He has a number of peculiarities for sure, but he knows you'd never betray him or go behind his back. It's a trust you worked hard to gain, and it was hard work that he recognizes and appreciates. You've proven time and time again that you're safe in many ways and while he's always prepared for the worst, he's also an excellent judge of character. He can read you like an open book.

Simon has no lack of faith and trust in his team either. He'd never say it out loud, but they are his brothers in arms and he is ready and willing to kill and to die for them, just as they are for him. He's not exactly eager to show his appreciation for them, but they take what they can get, even if it sometimes is just a mere glance. Now, don't misunderstand - he appreciates that you and his teammates get along, and he knows that if something were to happen to him, they'd keep you safe. But he is a man of instinct, and he has a tendency to get a bit territorial, for lack of a better word.

You know he has a bit of a... jealous streak, to say the least. He doesn't try to control you, because his gripes are not with you. He might loom and he might grumble, but he likes seeing you getting dressed up, he likes seeing you having a good time, he enjoys seeing you laugh and joke around. As far as he's concerned, you can do no wrong. No, his gripes are not with you - never with you. They are, however, with everybody else that even glances your way.

Kyle and Johnny are both very friendly by nature - they're probably the most easygoing members both in and outside the task-force. They're the type of people that others trust and want to hang out with, and they also consider you a good friend, whom they like to hang out and banter with. They do seem to have a habit of hogging you though, much to Simon's chagrin, and while you can make it up to him most of the time, he doesn't find it any less infuriating when they whisk you away for you to witness their latest ideas and trinkets.

They are also flirts by nature. Simon knows this because they inadvertently flirt with each other, as well as himself, any other teammates outside the task force and even Price at some points, mostly through jokes. They could probably flirt with a brick wall as far as he's concerned. Which is why he can almost overlook it when they turn their cunning charms onto you. Almost.

No one knows about Simon and yours relationship, not even Price. He's made it a point to keep it on the low for the safety of both of you, and you couldn't exactly argue - it made sense considering the line of work. It seemed as if though you had to remind him of this several times whenever hands and eyes that weren't his own seemed to wander a bit too much for his liking - "you can't hold it against them," you'd say, "they don't even know." And he knows you're right, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to hold it against them.

Despite all this, he keeps himself in check fairly well. No one can tell if he's just staring normally or glaring daggers at others anyways, so he gets away with dreaming about stringing them up by their balls at any time. Or rather, he keeps himself in check fairly well - until he has you for himself.

You'd tease him about it, but it's kind of difficult to even form coherent thoughts once he's pounding into you like his life depends on it. The second you're alone with him, you best believe he's making the most of it. He'll cover your mouth to keep you from making too much noise (although you're not sure that ever helps because just the sound of him fucking you is loud enough anyways) and he growls into your ear things like "you're mine and mine alone," "one day I'll fucking bend you over right in front of those fucking idiots and show them who you belong to," "they think they can fuck you as good as I do," "I bet those fuckheads would kill to get a chance to make you cum this fucking hard."

He tries to keep them away from you, subtly in order to not draw attention to it, even though it doesn't always work, and he'd rather just kick them in the head. Places himself between them and you, keeps you close to him, gives excuses as to why you should be stationed with him, why you should be assigned to him and his missions - anything he can think of. He also has a penchant for interrupting others when they're trying to talk to you, coming up with something to send them away. You yourself are honestly surprised no one's caught on at this point, but that might because no one knows him quite as intimately as you do.

Every day that anyone has managed to get in the way for him always ends the same. If you could keep track of the time he spends fucking your brains out, you'd probably be concerned, but he doesn't give you any chance to gather your thoughts once he has you. If he's really pissed, he might start taking risks - dumb risks, if you had anything to say about it, but he rarely listens, and he knows exactly what weak spots to touch on to get you to give in.

He's pinned you against a door a number of times, somehow managing to stay deathly quiet while fucking you thoroughly with practically all of his teammates standing on the other side, completely oblivious to what's going on behind just a couple of inches of wood. He once fucked you just around the corner from an open hangar door, and if any of the people walking by had thrown a look in your direction, they would've seen you bent over, pants pulled down to your knees and with Simon's iron grip on your hips.

So far though, he's managed to keep it discreet, despite his hotheadedness. Never leaves any marks where anyone can see them, helps you stay on your feet if you're in a place where you have to be, makes excuses to do things for you so that you don't have to get up out of your seat - although he can't deny that a part of him wants everyone else to see what he's done with you. He wants to mark your neck and chest all over for everyone to see, he wants everyone to see you stumble when you walk on shaky legs after he's done with you. He's had to fight the urge to just throw you onto the table whenever the force invites you in for a poker night and fuck you in front of them, just so that they can see that only he can have you.

But he mainly keeps it to himself. You'd be far too pissed at him if he pulled a stunt like that for it to be worth it. In fact, he reached a point where he was almost fine with at least Johnny and Kyle being their usual selves with you (to a point, of course). He almost got over it. Until, of course, the idiot with the mohawk decided to push it a bit further than he usually did.

The outcome can be blamed on a number of things, really. 141 had been away for an extended period of time, long enough for Simon to reach for his phone and send you some heated messages nearly every day for the last week, which was rare. So when he was finally coming back to you, finally able to spend as much time as he wanted in bed with you, when he steps off of that goddamn fucking helicopter to finally be greeted by you, what happens? John 'Soap' FuckTavish runs full speed ahead to you, wraps his dumb fucking arms around your waist, hoists you up in a fucking hug and plants a big fucking kiss on your cheek. Numerous times, mind you!

While you were indeed happy to see him and the rest of the team, you could tell that Simon had reached an instant boiling point. If you didn't know any better, you would've thought that he was about to blow Johnny's brains out then and there, but instead he simply walked up to you, grabbed Johnny by the shoulder and just about yanked him away from you.

"Maybe take a shower before you start rubbin' your stink all over everyone else, Sergeant," he said, pushing Johnny away. Wow, smooth, you thought to yourself, but Johnny seemed to take it in stride and laughed. "Gee, sorry, LT. Just happy to be back with a good friend is all." And as a final nail in the coffin, he winked at you before strutting away.

Kyle and Price greeted you as well as they passed by, Kyle also giving you a warm and tight hug, rocking you back and forth, and you could practically feel the heat radiating from Simon where he stood. Once they'd moved on, you turned to him with a sheepish smile. "Hi, baby," you said as sweetly as you could.

He grabbed you by the jaw, squeezing your cheeks so that your lips puckered; firm, but not rough. He leaned in close, his eyes fixated on you. "I've had it," he said and while you weren't exactly sure what he meant, you knew that there was something in store.

He picked you up and threw you over your shoulder and you were suddenly aware of the fact that there were still people around to witness this very unusual display from Simon 'Ghost' Riley. He carried you through the hallway that lead to his room and people were gawking at you as you tried to protest, tried to remind him that no one's supposed to know, that you need to be discreet about this, but how could you say all that without giving everything away when everyone could hear you? So you tried to just act like you didn't know what was going on, asking him what he was doing, where he was taking you, why he was doing this, but he didn't say a word. You're pretty sure that far more than you were comfortable with watched as he carried you into his room and locked the door.

He threw you onto his bed and tore his mask off, throwing it onto the floor with such force that you thought he broke it. "Simon, what the hell?!" you said, watching him take his gear off and haphazardly toss it to the side. "I thought we were keeping this shit secret!" But he didn't seem to listen. He simply stared at you with some combination of lust and anger as he stripped himself naked in front of you.

He grabbed your ankle and pulled you to the edge of the bed, wrapped your legs around his hips and leaned over you, pinning your hands in one of his above your head. "I've. Had. It." he said again. His other hand moved down to your crotch and pressed, rubbing at you. "I should've fucked you the second I touched ground - maybe then they'd get the fuckin' point."

Everything happened so fast after that - he ripped your shirt off, from the collar and all the way down, and you're pretty sure he broke your belt before he practically ripped your pants off as well. He kept you pinned against the mattress as he relentlessly fingered you, and when you tried to keep quiet he'd only up the intensity, focusing on that exact spot to break you apart. "I'll make them get the point, how's that?" he grumbled and spat at your hole, staring as if hypnotized.

You had no idea how long he'd had you just like this, eventually with both hands working you past the edge over and over again, but you were pretty sure that if you came just one more time you'd pass out, and he hadn't even fucked you properly yet.

At some point, you were vaguely aware of him lifting your hips up, placing your ankles on his shoulders before you felt him push into you and you thought you felt a part of your mind break. You didn't have any energy left to try and keep quiet anymore, so any moans and cries that worked their way up from your chest were let out freely and loudly as he pounded into you. Between the biting and the sucking all over your neck and chest and whatever other parts his mouth could reach, you thought you heard Simon praise you for every sound you let out.

His grip was sure to leave bruises on your hips, but he found that he had little concern about it as he watched your eyes roll back. With how he was handling you, he'd wondered if you'd mark him up the same if he asked you - it would only be fair, and he would be more than happy to wear any branding that you'd put on him. But for now, he'd put his on you.

He gripped the back of your knees, pushing them up to your chest and pushed himself deeper into you. He growled all sorts of dirty exclamations about how you looked, how you sounded, how you felt and how now no one would dare to lay a finger on you again. He fucked into you with reckless abandon, eventually pushing all the way into you to cum as deep into you as he could before pulling out and using his hands once more, fingering his cum back into as it leaked out.

You came one last time with a loud and near pornographic cry, the world flashed white, and before you knew it, you were held up in a warm stream of water in the shower, Simon's calloused hands stroking you gently to wash all the fluids off of you. "Aren't you such a good doll for me, baby?" he mumbled. "So good..."

You were littered with hickeys and bite-marks, painfully sore all over in the best sort of way, so weak in the legs that your knees were still shaking and you could barely stand. "The fuck got into you?" you managed to breathe out. "I'd be surprised if the entire fucking complex didn't hear us." Simon simply grinned. "Good. Maybe now everyone will know to keep their fucking hands off."

You were incredibly pissed at him once you saw yourself in the mirror, yelling at him and telling him that there is no way you can go out there looking like this. You scolded him, unsure if he even cared, but he dutifully went out to grab you some new clothes to replace the ones he ripped apart when you demanded him to.

The following week or so was incredibly stiff, both literally and figuratively. People would nearly sprint out of the room if you entered, trying not to pay any attention to your awkward walk, and you practically banned Simon from sex until you could sit down properly ("Plus an extra week!" you had added, just to get your point across) and all the marks had faded from your skin. Simon did make it up to you, being extra sweet on you, massaging any and every sore spot you had regardless of if he had caused them or not, running errands to make sure you didn't have to leave your spot.

As for the task force... for as long as they could see the hickeys on your neck, Kyle and Johnny tried every excuse they could think of to not look too much at you, or they told you that they had somewhere to be before awkwardly stumbling off under the glare of your boyfriend. Price himself was also a bit awkward, but for the most part, his reaction consisted of calling Simon into his office and scolding him for "causing a ruckus". He also threw in a "and for fuck's sake, don't break them - I'd rather not have to write that report!"

Simon did appear to be pleased with the results, however. Everyone steered clear of you, with the slight exception of his teammates, but even they were treading carefully. He barely even had to do anything. A bonus was that anyone that tried to be an asshole to you also kept their distance, which even you could agree was at least one positive thing to come out of the whole ordeal. At least he'd gotten it out of his system. For now.

[violetsiren90]

Make Me

Pairing: dom!Hoseok/sub/brat!f!Reader

Genre: Oneshot; hard smut; platonic(?) fluff; BDSM lifestyle; friends to fwb to?; canon-compliant (idolAU)

Summary: You've been friends with Hobi for years, and he's your comfort zone - but when he gets wind of a dark secret you drunkenly let slip, things between you take a sudden extreme change.

Warnings: 18+ (minors, dni); hardcore BDSM themes/relationships; full consent and safe-words ❤; Hobi is a hard dom (and such a good one); MC is a brat (mostly); dominance and submission; elements of primal play if you squint; mentions of wet dreams and sexual fantasies; sexual degradation (deg-play use of the word "b*tch"); mentions of MC's hair and hair pulling in a domination context; rough physical contact in a sexual context (manhandling); mentions of drinking; kink-outing; Jimin is a menace but also the absolute best; Hobi in the studio 👀; wrestling (sexual context); spanking (sexual context); p*ssy-stepping; p*ssy slapping; sexual frustration; some initial shame and embarrassment (reader needs to work some things out); reader tries to run away from herself a bit; temporary ghosting; working through new desires and feelings; dirty dancing; ALL the communication; establishment of sexual roles/partnership; talk about birth control and protection; Hobi curses a LOT during domination scenes; leash/collar play; oral sex (male receiving); throat fucking; Hobi slaps Reader's tongue with his c*ck; cum swallowing; aftercare; restraint play (sex swing, heehee 😈); manual clitoral stimulation; teasing; unprotected vaginal sex (reader is on birth control & previously consents); female orgasm from vaginal penetration; very brief implication of a possible brush with subspace.

Word Count: ~16,000 (Double its originally intended length, oops 🙈)

Author's note: HOLY HECK IT'S FINALLY HERE. When I say I had the time of my life writing this...like, wow. I was already under Hobi's spell, but now I am OFFICIALLY down in the worst way. This fic and its premise were completely out of my comfort zone, but I couldn't be happier that I ventured into this world, because the research alone has given me so much respect for the BDSM community, and specifically the dom/sub relationship. I hope I did as much justice to that very special dynamic as possible between these two characters (with whom I have deeply fallen in love). If you read this, I hope so very much that you enjoy it!

If no one has told you yet today, you are loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

Acknowledgements: The biggest of thanks to @orchidyoonkook who not only beta-read this fic multiple times, and is practically the voice of this Jimin, but also gave me so much wonderful insight into the BDSM community from that big sexy brain of hers (which contains an incredible amount of knowledge about so many things, let me tell you!). But most of all, she gave me the encouragement I needed to get this out of my imagination and onto the page, even when I was doubting myself the most. Yoons, I love you! Couldn't have done it without you. 💕

"What?" Hoseok's wide grin stretches further as he regards your flustered face with giddy anticipation.

     You groan into your hands, willing the cushions of your friend's leather couch to swallow you like quicksand.

     "Fucking Jimin - I'll kill him!" you whine, pressing your fingers to your temples, and keeping your eyes glued to the hardwood of the studio floor.

     The rapper laughs as he swivels his baseball cap to sit backwards on his fluffy brown mop of hair. 

     "Come on! Tell me!" he insists, sprawling back in his rolling chair, the tips of his fingers touching deviously together as he regards you with twinkling eyes. 

You sneak a glance at him before sighing defeatedly, which only earns another chortle of laughter from across the room.

     Park fucking Jimin. You really were going to kill him. Too many bottles of soju the week prior saw you blacking out at the BTS member's pad, the one he shared with your mutual friend, Jung Hoseok. You woke up the next day, memories of the night before obscure concepts of debauchery merely alluded to by the taste of bile and the dull cranial throb of dehydration. When Jimin rather gleefully handed you, along with an iced americano, one of the booze-fueled revelations you had let slip, you begged and pleaded with him to erase the memory from his brain...or at the very least to take it to his grave. He made no such promises. And now, you are facing the man of the hour - the subject of your divulgement - who had apparently been informed that you harbored certain strong opinions in his regard. Humiliating.

     You flick mildly irritated eyes back up to your friend who waggles his brows in a way that makes you want to crack a smile and sock him at the same time.

     "Before I say anything, I want to know exactly what he told you," you demand, crossing your arms defensively, no cracked smile to be found.

     He rolls his eyes up to the corner of the ceiling in recollection.

     "He just said that you had gotten wasted and admitted something kinky...about me." 

     At the last two words he drops his voice dramatically low and pins you with a grin that is sickeningly predatory. Your pulse begins to hammer and you have to remind yourself that you are, in fact, capable of speech. 

Fuck, you think to yourself, it's happening. 

You can feel sweat starting to bead at your hairline. Maybe if you get it out there, just say it aloud, it will lose its power. Maybe the spell will be broken. Maybe he will laugh and you will laugh and you'll order lunch and keep irritating him while he's supposed to be working on a track. You're both adults, right? You whoosh out a breath. 

     Hobi is still looking at you, his bottom lip pushing up and the corners of his mouth tugging down in one of his little inverted smirks while his right leg bounces a little up and down.

It is just Hobi, after all, you tell yourself. Just Hobi. You are roundly aware that it may be a lie, but it seems to allow you just enough courage to jump.

     "Okay, okay!" you practically shout, and he giggles and stomps his feet, which admittedly makes revealing this particular chestnut a bit easier.

     "I told him…

“What?”

“I said..."

     "What?"

     "Oh, Christ! Fine!" And the rest comes out like water from a fire hose. "One time I came to drop off Jimin's charger and you were in dance practice and you were watching the guys and you had this look on your face - like you were pissed or something - and it was so unlike you and I got turned on and ended up having a fucking wet dream that you were stepping on my mother-fucking pussy, okay?! Are you satisfied now?!"

     You heave a sigh and throw yourself back against the cushions, hands over your face. How you just mustered the courage to form those actual words you haven't even the faintest notion - but it was going to be you or Jimin, and it might as well be you. After your heart has begun to return to its resting rate and you've heaved a few deep breaths you steel yourself against the certain impending onslaught of Hobi's laughter and general mockery...which doesn't come. 

You peek through your fingers to see that your friend has shifted in his chair, facing a bit away from you toward the inside of the room, leaning forward, his hands gripping the ends of the chair's armrests. His face looks a little troubled, or pensive, you can't tell which. You sit up and really look at him, suddenly worried. 

Did you just fuck things irrevocably up? 

That was an incredibly bizarre and intimate thing to admit. 

Shit.

     "Hobi?" you squeak, barely over a whisper, as you regard him.

     He tilts his head suddenly to look at you, quick like a bird, and when those dark eagle-eyes regard you in return, you feel like a small, helpless creature scurrying across the tundra. Nowhere to hide. A bead of sweat escapes its perch and slips down from your temple. As he utters his question of response, the air suddenly becomes as thick as the tropics.

     "Is that something that you'd want, Y/n? To be treated like that? To be...put in your place? Put down?"

     You don't answer him. You can't.

Your words, your breath, your coherent thoughts are stuck, inert, useless as your chest begins to rapidly rise and fall in heavy swells. Your eyes are locked on his face as if by magnetic force. He stands, his baggy Louis Vuitton tee falling over his gray sweats. He shoves his hands in the pockets and takes a step toward where you sit. His posture is relaxed. His gaze is anything but.

    "Is it?"

    You want to say you don't know. That you'd never considered it again. Never once recalled the image of it - of him - standing over you as the sole of his shoe punished your throbbing sex.

     "Fuck..." you breathe, and when he doesn't take his eyes from your squirming form, you relent. "...y-yeah."

     He takes another step toward you, slowly. He's crowding you now, as he looks down, and the proximity is almost more than you can bear.

     "You see," he remarks musingly, "I thought you were gonna say something funny - something ridiculous," he tilts his head to one side, the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips, "But that's not funny, Y/n. No, that's not funny at all. Because, as it turns out..."

     He leans down, his breath fanning over your face as he speaks. Mint and espresso. You shiver and close your eyes.

     "...that's something I can do."

...what? He can...h-he can....

     "Hoseok..." you whisper shakily, because it's all you can manage.

     You hear him laugh darkly and you don't look at him.

     "Hoseok?" he mimics, "Not, Hobi, huh? Hoseok when you're like this, is it?" 

     "When I'm like...what?" You practically whimper in complaint, eyes still pressed shut as your last line of defense.

     But any manner of defense is in vain as he answers your query, the words dripping from his lips slowly like honey, sickly like venom - 

     "When you're a filthy, pathetic little slut."

     A whine escapes you at the complete and utter shock of his words. Suddenly you clamp your thighs together – whether to provide friction or obscurity to your quickly dampening cunt you are unsure. When he takes your jaw between his fingers and roughly jerks your chin upwards, your eyes flutter frantically open. 

     "Is this what you want?" he hisses, "For me to have my way with you like a needy whore?"

Fuck, is this happening? This is really happening. Your mind reels, but that's alright - it stopped doing the thinking when he got up out of that chair. Something primal in you had taken over, something that's been starving for so long – something that yearns to feed.

     You do your best to nod with your chin in his grip. He swallows thickly, his eyes darting to your lips, and then back up to yours. His pupils are blown, his eyes almost wholly black as they trace over your face. Suddenly his hand slips from your chin to the nape of your neck where his hand tangles in your hair and his head drops to the side, his gaze softening.

     "I need you to say it, Y/n, are you sure you want to do this?" he asks, his voice so, so low but without the edge that sends ice through your veins. 

His voice. He's asking you as someone who cares about you, cares what you want – your friend. 

Do you want this? No...you don't want it. You need it.

     "Y-yes! Yes, Hobi - I want this," you find yourself stumbling over the words to get them out.

     So quickly and so assured. Have you ever been this certain of anything in your life? His fingers dance against the nape of your neck and you sigh as his eyes travel all over your body.

You want to hide. You want to strip down. You want to run and you want him to chase you. You want him to punish you when he catches you. You are sick with want.  

     "A safe word, baby, we need a safe word," he nudges your racing mind back into the current moment with his saccharine words.

     You blink, your mind running up against the sudden pet name – one that he has never uttered in a tone like this before – as it scrambles for something obvious and yet not ridiculous. Something simple maybe...a flower...?

     "Foxglove," you say, and he raises his brows with a grin.

     "Foxglove it is," he acquiesces. "So if you ever want me to stop, ever – okay? You say that. Foxglove." 

     You nod.

     "Say it for me," he whispers, and you shiver again. Fuck.

     "Foxglove." It's slow and thick leaving your mouth.

     "Good girl," he purrs. Butterflies erupt in your rib-cage and your eyelids flutter. "How hard do you want it?" He asks, "How rough?"

     You scramble to find your voice.

     "Pretty rough, I think," you posit, a bit unsure of what that means.

     He hums in response, his brows knitting in thought. You were going to have to give him something to go on, you could see that.

     "I..." you stammer, "I want you to...to punish me. I want you to...to hurt me a little."

     He raises a brow - looks at you, just stares as if considering. Then suddenly you know what to say.

     "See...I'm not a good girl," you insist tilting your head back a bit haughtily, a bit defiantly. Being a good girl had gotten you butterflies, but that's not what you wanted right now. That's not what every cell of your body was screaming for.

  He's grinning wickedly again - his other hand is slipping out of his pocket and the one in your hair is gripping at the roots.

     "Hm. You're not are you?" he asks, his voice as dark and cold as the Pacific once again.

     "No, Hobi," you whisper. 

And suddenly your world is tilted on its axis as he tightens his fingers against your scalp and yanks your head back, sending a searing pain shooting through your skin as he stoops to hiss in your ear.

     "That's Hoseok, you pretty little bitch."

     You let out a whimper so needy it's nearly a sob. Your heartbeat is pounding between your legs. He lets go of your hair as roughly as he grabbed it and goes to lock the door and your stomach flips - you are totally and completely at his mercy. It's a little bit terrifying and absolutely exhilarating.

When he comes to loom over you again, you decide just exactly where you stand in all this. You know exactly what you want.

You glare up at him. He narrows his eyes.

     "You gonna listen, hm?"

It's not a question, you know it's not - it's a command. But you have one, just one, of your own...

     "Make me."

     His eyes go wide and wild.

     "So that's how it's gonna be?"

     The words are heavy and dark, but you think his mouth twitches up at the corner when you arch a recalcitrant brow in response.

     He hums and licks his lips, and you're on the verge of saying something about getting on with it when his hand darts out and fists a chunk of your hair, yanking it back with a force that makes your head spin. He's glaring down at you with eyes so hard and menacing that your rebuttal dies on your tongue. The hand at your nape squeezes and the pressure that seers your scalp is exquisite, spilling a moan from your lips as your arousal becomes more than you are capable of repressing.

     "Don't you challenge me, brat," he rumbles from low in his chest as his hand twists against your head and lowers your back to press against the black leather.

     You whine in protest, and your palms fly up to shove at him, but his reflexes are like lightning as he snatches your wrists away to pin them above you. Your head spins, eyes losing focus as your whole body flushes with warmth in the wake of his domineering aggression. 

     You wriggle in his hold, relishing in how his grip tightens and the cold steel in his eyes glints as you resist him.

     A knee slides between your legs as he leans over you menacingly, close enough for the padlock charm around his neck to lightly tap your raised chin. Good girl, it seems to whisper in Hoseok's voice, stay put.

     Yeah, fuck that.

     You snatch the necklace up between your teeth and yank it to the side where it bites sharply into the corner of your mouth.

     The sudden motion catches him off guard and he falters, crashing down on top of you with a noise of surprise and losing control of your hands.

     You scramble against him, rolling both of you to the floor with a thud.

     Your heart is hammering in your chest.

     You hear him grunt, his strong hands grappling with your thrashing form, and you catch just a glimpse of his shining eyes and white clenched teeth as he flips you over onto your stomach, hands in a vice grip at the small of your back and your cheek pressing into the cold, hard laminate.

     You start to move again but he pushes his weight into the slender fingers splayed over your spine with a low rumble in the back of his throat and you still with a groan.

     You're pressed so deliciously firmly to the floor. You can feel arousal soaking your panties as your nerves alight everywhere he has wrested control of you. You can hear him pant, proof of his efforts, and the image of his provoked expression from seconds previous flashes through your mind.

He seemed so cool and collected before. So unbothered. To think that his blood is up and because of you? You let out a trembling breath.

     "Fuck," he hisses lowly, then bends to bring his lips to the shell of your ear.

They're soft as they drag over your skin there, feather light. Your whole body shakes, and you feel his mouth pause.

     "I don't know who the hell you think you are," he whispers cruelly, "But you were right about one thing...you're not a good girl. You're a disobedient little harlot who needs to be taught the rules of this house." 

      You whimper pathetically as he presses into you even more intensely, restricting the expansion of your lungs.

     "Now," he says nosing at your exposed neck as he begins to pull away, "how about we teach you a lesson or two, hm?"

     You feel his weight leave your back, and see his figure rock back on his heels out of the corner of your eye. You are just on the verge of retaliating again when you let out a yelp at the sudden shock of your hips being yanked upward by the back belt loop of your denim shorts. Hoseok lets go of your hands and they fly forward to brace yourself as your ass raises into the air and your knees move toward your chest.

     And all at once you know what's coming and you feel your pussy clench in the mere anticipation of -

     Smack!

     You let out a wanton wail as the sharp crack of his hand against your right glute jolts through your body like a lightning strike and ends with a slam at your swollen clit.

     Again - harder! Your mind screams. So you press out a whinging moan of complaint.

     SMACK!

     It has the desired effect.

     CRACK!

     Your jaw is slack, but no sound escapes as he punishes you. It hurts. Fuck, it hurts. As if he's attempting to brand your ass with the shape of his hand. But holy hell is it making you drip. Every slap jolts your body and brings the tiniest friction to where you're neediest. Where you've never been needier in your life.

     Please punish my pussy....

     You try to mumble the words but all you can do is drool onto the floor as he deals out pleasure and pain from above.

     And then he stops. You feel hands deftly and swiftly rolling you to lie on your back.

You blink up through bleary eyes, drawing a hand across your mouth to wipe the spit away. Your shoulders are sore.

     He's leaning over you, a hand still on your hip, eyes scanning your face.

     "What? Did you say something? You need to speak up."

     His tone is still biting but his eyes seem to hold a genuine question. Concern.

     Warmth floods your chest as it registers that he wants to be able to hear you if you need him to. If you want to stop. But the light has never been so goddamned green.

     "Want..." you murmur, "...more, Hoseok."

     He curses, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he leans forward to take your jaw in his hand again. He rakes his gaze over your soft, swollen features, unfocused eyes, and heaving chest.

     "Look at you so fucked out and all I did was smack that gorgeous ass." 

     He licks his lips, shaking his head in seeming disbelief as he releases your chin with a little shove. He leans back, dragging his hands over your bare thighs.

    "More, hm?" he hums. 

     You nod eagerly.

     He purses his lips and considers you through narrowed eyes, and you sense that if you want him to give you what you so desperately desire, you're going to have to show him you can take it - and take orders. You lay still, hands twitching at your sides as you look up at him through wide eyes. 

     He continues to run his fingertips up and down your legs as he breathes out a long relenting sigh.

     "Alright," he relents, "You took your punishment well, so you should be rewarded, I suppose."

     You clamp your bottom lip between your teeth, your heart rate rising again at the prospect.

     He tilts forward, looming over you again as he asks the question you've been dying to answer since you woke up breathless all those weeks ago.

     "What does my little brat want me to do to her? Let's see if she can use her words."

     You blink up at him, unsure if you have permission to speak...or how to put your request into words that won't make you want to immediately melt through the floorboards.

     "Cat got your tongue?" Hoseok sneers, pretty, heart-shaped lips curling up at one side.

     His hat discarded in your tussle, wavy brown tresses hang down over his brow and his eyes sparkle darkly through them. His features are so beautiful - their loveliness thrown into sharp relief by the flinty pitilessness of their expression.

     You're tempted to continue simply soaking him in, if not for the pounding ache in your core demanding that you find your voice.

     "I...I want..." your lips tremble as you will yourself to tell him what you need.

     Perhaps he senses that you require a little encouragement, because his eyes harden and he digs the edges of his nails into the flesh of your knees, causing you to yelp and moan and then...

     "I want you to step on my pussy! Please..." You press out your request with the last of the breath in your lungs.         

     Hoseok's eyes flutter shut at the last word of your plea.

     "Say that again," he commands in a husky whisper, and even without further specification, somehow, you know.     

     "Please..." You groan, letting your legs drop open demurely.

     His eyes are still closed, but he can feel the action with his hands, which have now slipped just inside your knees to your inner thighs. He inhales deeply through his nose, before exhaling with a shuddering breath. When his lids languidly raise again the piercing onyx of what they have unveiled is pinning you to the floor with more deadly force than even his hands ever could. Your pulse pounds in your cunt, your head still swimming from your previous position as he pushes himself up to stand. 

     As you blink up at Hoseok towering over you, standing between your splayed thighs with his midnight gaze boring into the damp denim covering your heat, something inside you long ajar quietly but firmly clicks into place. 

     "Tell me, brat" he seethes, eyes roving your trembling form stretched out beneath him, "Who makes the rules in this house?"

     "Hoseok-ssi," you whimper, so needy the ache is beginning to hurt.

     Every cell of your body is awake with a desperate anticipation that only he can satisfy...or deny.

     You have never felt more alive.

     And then something happens and your brain shuts off entirely. 

Everything vanishes: the studio, the traffic outside the western window, the city of Seoul and South Korea and the whole goddamned planet rolling around in the Milky Way. Nothing exists except the tip of Hoseok's Air Jordan ghosting over the swell of your crotch. 

     Your mouth waters as his foot slowly slides forward, then goes completely dry as you feel it settle with the sole aligned directly with your slit. His eyes flick up to your face, but you can't hold his gaze for more than a millisecond as he begins to apply pressure to your mound.

     Your eyes roll back in your skull, head lolling as your neck goes slack, lips parted in a silent scream as the man above you presses down with a low hum over your sex. The seam of your shorts is biting deliciously into the tender flesh of your clit, sending shockwaves through your core like a live wire, and when he rolls his foot in a circular motion you think you see god. 

You do scream then, but it's nothing more than a strangled sound in your throat as your fantasies materialize and he leans his weight into his stance, punishing the soft fat of your cunt with the sole of his shoe.

     You're going to cum. He's barely touched you and you're going to cum. He seems to see it in the twisted ecstasy of your features as his lids hood his eyes and filth begins to spill from his lips.

     "Do you like that, brat?" he taunts, "That's what you get when you're a good little girl for Hoseok -  you get your pretty wet cun-"  

     Click jangle clack - boom boom boom! 

     Hobi springs away from you, hopping back on one foot with wide eyes as a succession of rapid knocks follow the stilted motions of the locked door handle. You scramble up from the floor, heart pounding and breath coming fast as you toss yourself into the corner of the couch. 

     Boom, boom, boom!

     "Hyung, are you naked or something?" comes a familiar if muffled voice from the other side of the wall.

     You fumble for your phone and Hoseok runs a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath before pulling open the door.

     The man belonging to the impatient knocks and muffled accusations stumbles headlong into the studio, the locked entrance against which he had pressed his ear and most of his weight having been pulled out from under him.

"Jimi...nie...?" Hobi greets his bandmate and his eyes track the other's toppling form with surprise and a hint of agitation. 

     Yoongi ambles in casually behind him, sipping a dewy americano through a straw, a beanie sitting atop his ashy locks gnomishly.

     Jimin nimbly pushes himself to a stand from where he had crashed against Hobi's desk, not a strand of his coiffed platinum blond hair askew as he spins around face to the dance captain. But before he can get out a greeting or an excuse for his manner of entrance he freezes as he spots you in the corner.

His eyes flick to Hobi's hat on the floor, then to the pink flush on the apples of his friend's cheeks. When Jimin's eyes slide back over to where you are curled into your nook, eyeing him warily over the tiny shield of your phone, his plush lips slowly spread into a sickeningly devious smile.

     Hobi scoops his hat up off the floor and tugs in back on before taking a seat, carefully, you notice - thighs pressed together and leaning forward - in his rolling chair. The implication of his posture has you sweating into your shirt.

You need to get it the fuck together.

     "If I would have known you were here I'd have brought you a kimbap," Jimin says, wicked grin still plastered on his face as he holds up a plastic convenience store bag.

     You blink. 

     "Oh, uh, that's okay..." you bluster, waving your hand. "I'm not hungry anyway." 

     It's true. You just lost your appetite for the foreseeable future, stomach a raging sea of nerves as Jimin places the bag on the desk.

     Yoongi shuffles over to sit at the other end of the couch, raising his free hand and drawing his mouth into a straight line in greeting. You manage your own tight-lipped grin and flash him a peace sign, hoping you did it quickly enough that the tremor in your hand went unnoticed.

     "To what do I owe this visit from my bros?" Hobi asks from where he's turned toward his computer screen to save the neglected file. 

His voice is cheerful, but you can hear the strain - how it's pitched just half a tone too high - and Jimin's eyes are still on you.

     "I dragged Yoongi hyung out for some fresh air. I took him to lunch and grabbed you a snack on the way back."

     "Yah, you took me to lunch? Then why did I pay?" Yoongi grumbles from beside you, his bare features pinched into a grumpy pout that makes him look particularly feline.

     "Because you love me," Jimin coos at him and the older musician's mouth quirks up into a smile he can't seem to repress. 

     "What are you working on, Hoba? Which track?" Yoongi murmurs around the straw between his lips, blinking patiently as Hobi seems to shake himself, pulling his hat off to run a hand through his hair before readjusting it on his head and swiveling back toward his computer screen.

     He hits play on the track and Yoongi leaves the couch to join the other two.

     This is all so normal, so typical of the guys - the affectionate repartee and chat about ongoing projects. And on an average day, you'd have joined right in. 

But today is not an average day. 

No.

Five minutes ago, you were spread-eagle on the floor six inches from where Jimin stands, with Hoseok's shoe on your bits.

     You have to get out of here.

     "I'm, uh, I'm gonna head out, boys," you muster, making a beeline for the door as soon as the inertia of your decision gives you the courage to peel yourself from the corner of the couch.

     "You're leaving?" Jimin's voice quips in a saccharine whine, with the slightest edge that makes you avoid his eyes as you slip out with a parting wave.

You do catch Hoseok's expression, whose head snaps up at your parting movements. His brows furrow and his lips part, looking as if he wants to say something, but he doesn't.

     And then you're gone.

    Your smart watch trills as your heart rate enters cardio territory. Your chest is heaving, breath coming heavy as the pliant cushion of your couch gives way to the crown of your head pressing back into it, eyes pinched shut and hand shoved down your pants. 

The bullet vibrator you have pressed to your clit is doing everything it should, and you feel it coming - your orgasm. 6:12pm on a Tuesday and it's already your third self-love session of the day. 

You tense your thighs, urging the building pressure in your core to boil over, and quickly. You groan and grit your teeth as your administering hand starts to shake. You writhe and whimper for a moment. And then it's over.

     You stare up at the ceiling of your apartment, breathlessly huffing out a despondent sigh as the empty ache in your chest returns. It has become your loathsomely devoted companion in every waking moment over the last ten days, filling you with an unshakable restlessness and sickly discontent.

     Nothing can slake it. Not reality TV. Not Cabernet Sauvignon. Not overtime hours. Not ASMR wood-soup videos. Not yoga. Not Ben and Jerry's. Not midnight runs on your NordicTrack. Not fucking yourself to climax on every single goddamned toy you own. 

     The little monster you roused the weekend before last in Hope World hasn't returned to sleep. No. She is wide awake. And she seems to grow more ravenous with each passing day. 

At first you tried to ignore her, but she kept you up into the long, bleak hours of the night. And so, in a fuzzy, staticky haze some time after midnight a number of days ago you typed some words into a search engine that would probably have your assigned FBI agent doing a spit-take.

     The thing is, you'd never seen "50 Shades of Grey", you'd never been interested. It wasn't as if you were a prude - hardly! You have always enjoyed sex, both intimate and recreational. In fact, it has always been one of your favored methods of blowing off steam, and you knew quite well how to please yourself and how to guide partners in doing the same.

     You have never had problems in taking what you wanted in life, in taking charge and ensuring that things play out your way – it's what makes you so good at your job, and valued by your peers who know that they can rely on you to take the reins and rise to the occasion.

     So when you suddenly stumbled unprepared into the world of BDSM, your visceral reaction to the concept of submission left you wondering...why?

Why, why, why? 

Why does this do it for you? Why did your very linear, stable existence have to be completely disrupted by this discovery? And most urgently of all, why, for the love of everything sacred, did all the porn in the whole wide world fail to accomplish even a fraction of the effect of Jung Hoseok's size 9 sneaker? It's all too overwhelming to process.

     You let out a frustrated whine as you pull your sticky, cramped hand, still clutching the little purple bullet, from the confines of your pants. Your phone buzzes on the coffee table and you can see the notification is from Jimin. You've been ignoring his calls and pleading texts to meet up, or just pick up. You can't face him. Not after ghosting Hobi.

     You feel a pang twist in your stomach as you haul yourself toward the shower, hoping the hot water will wash away the guilt you feel for ignoring Hoseok outright. He texted you almost immediately after you left the studio, asking if you were alright. You let him know that you were, with just one word: yeah.

     You had typed and retyped that response. "Yeah, thanks" seemed too weird. Like, thanks for what? Almost making you cum with the tip of his shoe? No. "Yeah, sorry" felt pathetic. What were you apologizing for? It seemed to imply...regret? Or fault. Neither of which would have come from a genuine place. And beyond a simple affirmation, you certainly didn't have words. So, "yeah" it was. He tried to call you later that evening, but you didn't pick up. You were already way up in your head by then. It had been radio silence since.

     You toss a coconut steamer onto the wet shower tiles and sigh, catching a glimpse of your face in the bathroom mirror as you slide the glass door shut.

     "Coward," you mutter as you close your eyes and slip under the cleansing stream.

     You're wrapped up in a blanket cocoon and sipping a cup of sleepy-time tea, trying to distract yourself from the messy tangle of emotions waging war across your various chakras with season two of Single's Inferno, when a knock on the door startles you out of your simmering reverie. You heave yourself off the carpeted floor of your living room and scoot toward the door like a fleecy Jabba the Hutt to peek through the peephole.

     Your vision is obscured as another eye looks back at you from the other side of the concave glass. You jump back, dropping your blanket shroud in a pile around your feet and let out a yelp of alarm. You slam a hand over the peep hole as giggles erupt on the other side.

     "Yah! I know you're in there - so let me in!"

     Your entire body sags against the door in relief as you recognize the voice of the would-be intruder. You swing the door open to grant him exasperated entrance.

     "Park Jimin, you just took ten years off my life! Creep," you bluster, gathering the blanket up around your body as you retreat back into your apartment. 

You plop down again in front of the TV, knowing that Jimin came to either talk you into going out or to just talk, and either way, you are truly not in the mood. Your friend snickers behind you, sauntering into your kitchen. He returns with a beer, bringing the frosty green bottle to his lips before sinking into an armchair and regarding you with an expression that waivers between amusement, pity, and disgust.

     "You look awful," he remarks, taking another swig as his gaze roves your unkempt appearance.

     Your features twist into a frown, eyes never leaving the television.

     "You don't get to barge into my apartment, steal my booze, then insult me, Park," you snip, burrowing further down into the fluffy mass encasing your body.

     Jimin raises a brow, a small smile still playing on his lips as he follows your eyes to the television where YouTuber Dex and professional model Lim Minsu flirtatiously splash about in a ridiculously opulent indoor swimming pool.

     "Fuck, Dex is hot," Jimin mutters.

     "For some reason he reminds me of Jungkook," you smirk, glancing over at him for the first time since he arrived.

     He grimaces theatrically.

     "I don't see it."

     The contestant on the screen flashes his Paradise companion a blinding smile and raises a tattooed arm to cut through the water, content to show off his stroke precision as his date watches on. The resolve on Jimin's face falters .

     "Yeah, well...Dex is hotter."

     You scoff.

     "Yeah, no. Kook-ah is definitely hotter."

     "For the love of god, just don't tell him that, okay?" Jimin pleads, "That kid is insufferable enough these days."

     "You love him."

     He hides a smile behind another sip of Hite.

     "Why did you ghost Hobi hyung?"

     Jimin blinks innocent eyes at you, as if he hasn't just dumped the last week and a half of silent agony over your head like a bucket of ice water. But the chill is momentary, because the next second your body feels like an oven. You stammer.

     "I-I...ghost him? I didn't ghost anyone...I'm busy...I..." you trail off weakly as your friend's unimpressed and knowing gaze bores into your soul.

     You sigh and scrub your hands over your face.

     "Because I'm a big chicken, okay?" You murmur into your palms.

     You don't know why, but you feel like crying. When you pull your hands away from your face, Jimin must see it because suddenly he's on the couch wrapping you in the kind of hug that reminds you why he's your ride-or-die, and in the safety of his embrace the tears begin to fall. Days of being alone with yourself and your conflicted feelings pour from your ducts and onto the front of Jimin's bright yellow flannel. He coos words of reassurance, admonishing your tears, as he strokes your hair.

     "Talk to me, you silly goose," he hums with an endeared chuckle. 

     You sniff and hiccup as you pull away, wiping your puffy eyes.

     "I don't even know what to say, Minnie...I don't know what's wrong with me..."

     Jimin smiles and grabs a few tissues from the box on the coffee table, dabbing them against your nose.

     "Well, first of all, nothing is wrong with you. But second of all, tell me what is bothering you."

     You heave a dramatic sigh.

     "If I tell you, you have to swear - and I mean swear - that you will not make fun of me or tell anyone else. And I mean not Taehyung, not Yoongi, not anyone, you hear me?" 

     He smirks, but nods in assent. You narrow your eyes at him.

     "Say it. Out loud." You demand warily.

     Jimin rolls his eyes and throws up his hands.

     "Yah! Okay! I won't tell anyone," he quips mockingly.

     You sigh again and draw your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. If this gets too hard to talk about with eye-contact at least you'll have a place to hide your bashful face.

      "I..." you start softly, not sure where to begin except the beginning, "Re-remember that thing I told you when we got plastered a little while back...about...Hobi?"

     Jimin's lips quirk at the corners as he nods.

     "Well...the thing is...wait!" You cut yourself off, suddenly gripped by a notion that has you prematurely flustered and indignant. "What did he tell you?"

     Jimin shakes his head, a small smile still playing on his full lips.

     "Nothing," he responds, looking you dead in the eye in a way that has you almost believing he's telling the truth. 

     "No, really," you press.

     Jimin leans back against the arm of the couch from where he faces you, running a hand through his hair and drawing his legs up to criss-cross in front of him.

     "Jagi, this is Hobi hyung we're talking about. You think he would do that? He has too much respect for you. He would never. Not to anyone. Not even me."

     Your chest floods with relief, affection, and regret. Fuck. Of course he wouldn't. He was too mature of a person for that. Too considerate. Too lovely. And you hadn't even had the gumption to speak to him for the last ten days beyond a mono-syllabic SMS. Jimin watches your expression do emotional acrobatics.

     "So..." he offers encouragingly, "something...happened....between you guys, right? That day Yoongi hyung and I showed up? We...uh...interrupted something, didn't we?" He can't help a devilish smile, eyes twinkling as he carefully phrases his query.

     You bury your face into your knees and squeak out an affirmation. Jimin lets out a bright laugh and you immediately raise your burning face in a scowl.

     "Hey! You said you wouldn't-" 

     He waves his hands in apology as he attempts to gain his composure.

     "Mianhae, mianhae! I'm not laughing at you!" He insists, leaning forward to grab your swatting hands by the wrists.

     "Sounds kind of like you are!" You huff, yanking your arms from his grasp.

     "So..." Jimin hums, tilting his head to track your gaze as you try again to hide your face, "If he's down, and you're down...what's the problem? Why did you run and hide? Did your feelings change?"

     You slowly raise your eyes to his, searching them as you decide just how much you're willing to tell him right now. You chew on your bottom lip as you realize you need to get it out. All of it. You drop your legs to mirror Jimin's posture, lowering your defenses with your millionth-and-first sigh of the evening.

     "Okay...well..." you muse, fiddling with the blanket still draped over your lap. "You know how I told you that stuff that I...dreamt...about Hobi?"

     Jimin nods.

     "Well...something did kind of happen...and well..." you trail off as Jimin raises his brows expectantly.

     "Oh, fuck it!" you bluster, exhausted by your own attempts at delicacy. "He dominated me and I liked it. I really really liked it, okay? And it freaked. me. the fuck. out. Like...I've neeeeever felt that way before about fooling around. It wasn't just fun, or, like, pleasurable...it was...almost..." you search for the words as Jimin stares at you raptly. "...Freeing? Like, a relief. Like, a 'where has this shit been all my life' moment."

     Jimin hums and nods, interlacing his fingers and leaning his chin against his knuckles.

     "Like...I don't know...I'm a very independent person. And capable. And, yeah, things have been crazy stressful at work, and I have a lot on my plate...but I handle it, you know? In fact, I don't just handle it, I kind of...enjoy the pressure of leadership and responsibility? It drives me. I've always been like that, in every area of my life..." 

     Jimin smiles and lets out a sound of recognition.

     "So the one who wears the crown is wondering why it feels so good to be...subjected?" He waggles his brows. You roll your eyes.

     "Grow up, dude."

     "Am I right, though? I'm right."

     You find yourself chewing your bottom lip again.

     "Essentially. I like power. I like control. What is this sudden obsession with losing it? It's...scary. And confusing."

     Jimin smiles. 

     "You know, it's actually not that uncommon, from what I understand," he states, reaching for his abandoned beer on the coffee table.

     You quirk an eyebrow.

    "I mean, everyone is different, and this is a journey you're going to have to take for yourself to get the answers, but from what I know about the BDSM community, it's not unusual for people who are in positions of power to crave a bit of a...reprieve."

     "Really?"

     "Yeah," he nods, reclining back again against the arm of the couch, "The bedroom is a good place to let your walls down. Maybe the only place, for some people. And with a trusted partner it can even be healing to play a different role than you do in other parts of your life."

     It's your turn to smirk.

     "You talk as if you know," you prod playfully, shoving your toes into his shin. He smiles that wicked smile of his and you laugh.

     "What I'm trying to say is, maybe it's not just about the...dynamics. Maybe it's also that it's Hobi hyung. He knows you. You know him, too. You trust each other. Maybe you could get to know each other in a new way. Be something for each other that you both need." He takes the last sip of his beer and twirls the bottle in his hands, gazing at you with a gentle thoughtfulness.

     You nod slowly, digesting his newly offered perspective.

     "So," you muse, raising your eyes to him again, "You think he needs it too?" 

     Jimin shrugs. 

     "Only he could tell you that for sure. But I do know this, he's awfully good at being bossy, and doesn't get a lot of opportunity to run the show - outside of dance practice, that is."

     Chuckling nervously at the thought, you try your best to conceal the spark that has crackled to life from the burning coals inside you at the mention of his natural command of authority. 

     "Hey," Jimin posits with a grin, "Maybe if he's spanking you he'll go a little easier on us when we screw up the choreo..."

     "EXCUSE ME THE FU-WHAT?!" You shriek, snatching up a throw pillow to beat him mercilessly as he falls in raucous laughter to the floor.

     Turning to glance over your shoulder at your reflection in the mirror, you smooth your hands over the back of the svelte black bodycon number you've donned for the evening. You're a vision in monochrome, having paired your LBD with sleek stilettos and dark smokey eyes with heavy lashes.

     Your phone buzzes, indicating that your ride share is close by. Butterflies flutter in your belly as you reach for the finishing touch to your outfit: a velvety black choker with a sliver o-ring studded in colorless topaz. It's just fashionable enough to still look like a necklace, but it gives you a bit of a thrill to know that it's not. To know what's tucked inside your purse to accompany it. To wonder if, going unnoticed by most, it will catch a certain pair of dark eyes.

     The drive across town to reach the Jihope residence never felt so long. You try your best to calm your nerves over the last few blocks of distance - it’s just a party, after all, and kind of a silly one at that. 

During Jimin's last visit, he mentioned that he and Hobi would be throwing a Black Day party for all of their single friends the following weekend, and after dodging his attempts at socialization so religiously of late, you felt you owed it to him to attend.     

     Black Day had never been something your group of friends had ever observed before, but it was incredibly chic to do so this year, for whatever reason. And of course, all the organizing duo of the soiree needed was the slightest excuse for Jimin to party and Hobi to host.

     Upon arriving at the building, you can already hear the music pumping from the top floor, and the chatter of guests spilling out onto the terrace. You present your ID to the security guard at the front gate, and are escorted to a private elevator that whisks you up to the penthouse. Being quite successful and comfortable yourself, you still find yourself surprised when reminded of the sheer net worth of your humble, down-to-earth Bangtan pals. Hobi is worth the most, and while he is an excellent investor and a generous philanthropist, he also likes to show out, and in style.

     You take a deep breath as you buzz the bell.

     The door swings open to reveal a handsome young man in a black t-shirt tucked into baggy dark-wash jeans, his fluffy brown hair parted in the middle and his ears glinting with rows of silver hoops. His round eyes scrunch into little moons and he flashes an adorable toothy grin, endearingly lopsided where it stretches deeper against the little orbital piercing at the right side of his bottom lip.

“Noona!" he growls, pulling you into a bear hug. "Where have you been? The last two times we went to noraebang there was no one to sing Through the Night with me!"   

     "Ah...hah...", you nervously chuckle, pulling away from his embrace as you search your brain for an excuse other than business.

     "I'll sing with you, Googie!"  

     You turn to see your salvation from further explanation in the form of a giggling young woman bouncing up to clutch Jungkook's arm and steady herself as she sways on her platform heels. She smells like soju and fruity perfume.

     You smirk and thank her, patting her hand where it clutches your friend's tattooed forearm before she's dragging him away down the hall.

     "Make sure she stays hydrated!" You call after him with a shake of your head, making your way through the throng of guests to the bar area. 

     The furnishings of the residence are a study in classy postmodern minimalism, punctuated with abstract urban art – though you notice that some of the Kaws pieces are missing, likely stored away for safekeeping from rowdy party-goers. 

     The sleek chrome and granite full-service bar is stocked with liquor and beer, and a commissioned mixologist is crafting darkly colored cocktails. A buffet-style spread offers the traditional jjajangmyeon and an assortment of other delicious eats.

     The spacious dining area is littered with small tables draped in black linens, each bearing centerpieces of hellebore, leather leaf, black carnations, and eucalyptus. The living room has been converted to a dance floor, complete with a glittering disco ball. House music booms through the built-in speaker system as guests in groups and pairs move to the beat.

     You glance over a drink menu of themed cocktails as a voice sounds from over your shoulder. 

     "I recommend the Down With Love."

     Turning, you flash the speaker a grin.

     "Alright, but is it giving Judy or Barbara?"

     Taehyung raises a disparaging brow.

     "It's a gimlet. Judy, obviously."

     You chuckle, putting in your order for the suggested beverage.

     "You look good," he remarks, gesturing at you with the unlit cigarette tucked between his first two fingers, his other hand slipped into his pocket as he leans against the wall.

     He doesn't look bad himself, you think, in his black satin top and flared Merlot trousers.

     "Thanks," you smile as the bartender hands over an inky concoction garnished with a grapefruit slice twisted into the shape of a heart and run through with a toothpick.

     You eye it skeptically.

     "How do they make it black?"

     "Activated charcoal. C'mon."

     Tae links your arm through his and weaves through the bustle to a table of familiar faces. Yoongi raises a whiskey tumbler in greeting and you clink your glass with his, sliding into a chair next to Taehyung and reaching over to give Namjoon's arm an affectionate squeeze. It seems that all the members have turned up, save Seokjin, who's been a taken man three years strong.

     You fall into easy conversation with the boys, and just when your difference of opinion with Namjoon over Lee Bul's latest installation piece is developing into a full-blown debate, Jimin slides up to the table and spills onto Taehyung's lap.

     "None of you are dancing!" He whines breathlessly, poking Tae's cheek as the other man smiles shyly.

     "Jungkook is," Yoongi rebuts, taking another bite of jjajangmyeon.

     He's not wrong, though to your amusement, the maknae appears to be getting danced on more than anything else.

    "Where's Hobi hyung?" Tae queries, prodding gently at Jimin's full cheek in return.

     Jimin's eyes dart to you, a smirk spreading slowly across his lips as his gaze rakes up from your heels to the choker around your neck.

     "Good question," he hums, rising to take your hand and pull you up from your seat. "Let's go find him."

     Jimin heads for the French doors at the far end of space that lead onto the terrace. They're propped open, and cool evening air floods the apartment, keeping the atmosphere from suffocating under the warmth of body heat and the scent of rich food.

     "Jimin!" You hiss, as you approach the rooftop patio, "What are you doing? This is the opposite of subtle!"

    He laughs merrily.

     "You're so cute when you're flustered!"

     You don't have any more time to grumble as you emerge under the darkening sky, just beginning to speckle with stars barely visible against the glow of string lights wrapped around the cozy outdoor enclosure. There's a small electric fire pit surrounded by plush patio furniture, and live greenery all around.

     The energy is much more relaxed than within, but even so, you feel your pulse quicken as Jimin guides you toward a small group at the corner of the terrace. You recognize a few of the men and women gathered as industry producers, but none of that really matters because all your brain can register is him.

     And holy shit does he look good.

     He's arresting sophistication and effortless elegance. A silk charcoal dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, ripples along the lines of his torso - save where the top three buttons have been neglected to expose the smooth planes of his toned chest. His lean, athletic legs seem even longer than usual in fitted black slacks, his pretty wrists and fingers sparkling with jewelry where his thumbs are slipped into his pockets. His hair has been slicked back from his face, and his eyes are just barely obscured by a pair of lightly tinted wire-rimmed aviators. That brilliant, warm heart-shaped smile cuts through all the sharp darkness of his garb, and your breath catches in your chest when Jimin calls out to him.

     "Hyung!"

     As Hoseok's eyes meet yours the grin stretched across his face falters, but he quickly regains composure.

     "Eyyy," he greets you, striding forward and wrapping his arm around your shoulders to pull you into a side hug. Of course he smells as incredible as he looks.

     "Hi, Hobi," you murmur a bit shyly, returning his embrace.

     "Hyung," Jimin pouts cutely, "Save us! She was putting our guests to sleep talking to Namjoon-ah about art theory."

     "Hey," Hobi chides in a warning tone, cocking his head to the side to glance down at you. "Don't enable the poor guy – he needs to get laid."

     "Well nobody is going to approach him if she's hanging around looking like that." Jimin gestures casually, a mischievous twinkle glinting for a moment his eye.

     Hobi's arm slips off your shoulders to grasp your hand as he steps back. He's never been good at keeping his feelings from his face, and the look trained on his features as he appraises you has you thinking you made the right decision when you put on that dress.

     "How about we keep you out of trouble and on the dance floor, hm?" Hobi says with a sly smile, raising your hand and tilting forward in a posture of invitation.

     You roll your eyes playfully, unable to bite back a smile of your own as you motion for Hobi to lead the way, careful to avoid Jimin's eyes as you let the rapper guide you back into the thrumming pulse of the festivities.

      He gently pulls you onto the dance floor and tugs you into him, keeping a hold on your right hand as he slips the other just below the curve of your waist. You settle into an easy step to the lively beat. Hobi's eyes search your face as you tilt it up to him, running a hand up his chest to adjust the collar of his shirt with a sigh. You fiddle with the soft fabric between your fingers.   

     "I'm sorry, Hobi," you murmur, just loudly enough for him to hear.

     When he just smiles a bit sadly you feel your heart squeeze and you drop your head to his chest. You will yourself not to cry as he slows his movements, slipping a knuckle beneath your chin to raise your gaze to his own.     

     "Hajima," he protests, "Let's talk later. Right now, how about we just have some fun? I missed you."

     His expression is sweet and earnest and you feel like your chest might not have room for anything more than your complete and utter affection for this man. 

     "I missed you too," you admit with a little grin, pressing yourself against him just a bit more firmly and gazing up at him through widened eyes. He blinks for a moment, and then suddenly, there it is again, blooming across his lips - that blinding gorgeous smile, and that heady, infectious laugh.

     In one quick motion, he spins you around to face away from him as the music drops to a deep, throbbing EDM number, his fingertips grazing your hips and his lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

     "You did, huh?" he purrs. "Alright, then...show me how much." 

     You suck in a breath because you don't ever think you'll be ready for how quickly he can turn that dark, deep voice in his chest into something that makes you feel like you're astral-projecting. Your first instinct is to push him away, make him take it from you...but this moment isn't for that. After your exit last time around, you’re determined to make him so incredibly certain that you want him. That you need him. 

     You lean back into him and, whispering a silent prayer of gratitude to the goddess of stilettos, press your ass firmly into his groin. You feel the air leave his lips in a hiss against your neck, and his hands slide to squeeze your hips and tug your body even deeper into his. You grind back against him as your body undulates with the hypnotic rhythm of the beat, but it's not long before he's taken over guiding the motion of your hips to match the rolls of his own. 

     Your eyelids flutter. You've never been this close to him. Sure, in the studio, things had gotten hot and heavy - but you had only been in his hands. He had only touched you to move you, still you, punish you. Now you are flush against his body, and everywhere you touch as he rocks you in tortuous waves against him tastes like the first sumptuous bite of a forbidden fruit. 

You can feel him beginning to swell against the plush of your ass, but even that isn't what has a familiar ache throbbing at the apex of your thighs – it's the effortlessness with which he wrests control of your body, your mind...your very being down to its most primal core.

     Hoseok's hand skids up your side and slips over your collarbones.

     "I like this necklace," he mumbles into your hair.

     You turn in his arms, slipping your fingers around the back of his neck as you raise your lips to his ear.

     "I'm disappointed in you, Hoseok," you tut, "It's not a necklace, you know." 

     He doesn't respond, but focuses on bringing his leg to slot between yours, hiking your dress up enough to tease your mound with brushes over the front of his thigh. You swallow a moan.

He's toying with you, but you won't give in. Not so easily. Not yet.

     "I guess you could call it a choker..." you rasp, trying to keep the tremor from your voice as your face presses into the side of his jaw, "That is more descriptive of its actual purpose, I suppose."

     For one millisecond in the fabric of time and space you feel his pace falter as the words spill from your lips - then he runs his hand up your back, slipping two fingers under the tight strip of velvet surrounding your throat.

     For the first time since you started dancing, you look at him. Crystalline beads of sweat have broken out on his brow, and his mouth is set in a stern line, his eyes hooded and dark as tugs his fingers back to command a view of your gaze.

     "Are you telling me," he grits out lowly, digging his fingers into the flesh of your hip so bruisingly you gasp, "...that you showed up to my party wearing a fucking collar?" 

     You don't answer him - instead you let a wicked smile slip over your lips, refusing defiantly to drop his piercing stare. He has stopped moving you against him, stopped moving entirely. His hands are firm but still where they hold you as his eyes bore down.

     "Are you out here trying to finish what we started?"

     You tilt your head back, narrowing your eyes seductively.

     "What do you think?"

     You watch a thousand and one thoughts race through Hoseok's mind as his eyes drop to your neck again and he swallows thickly.

     "Oh, fuck it," he hisses, turning and catching your hand to pull you impatiently through the crowd. 

     You barely have time to wonder what he's thinking or where you're headed when, at the opening to the hall, he spins to grasp your waist and tuck you into a small alcove. He does it so quickly and with such force that you nearly topple the potted plant on the stand beside you.

     He pushes himself against you, the tip of his nose brushing yours, and his firm body pressing you to the wall. He holds your wrists in his hands, pinning them to either side of your body. You let out a tiny whimper.

     His peppermint breath fans over your cheeks.

     "I was going to wait," he whispers loud enough for you to hear him clearly over the music from the room behind you. "I was going to ask you...to stay. After..." he traces his nose along the ridge of your cheekbone as he squeezes your wrists tightly, his nails nipping into your skin. "But you come here with the audacity to tease me like that? Out there, in front of everyone like a desperate little slut?" 

     His mouth is hovering over your ear as he speaks, sending shivers cascading down your spine.

     "I'm not a patient man," he mutters darkly, and you feel your pussy throb.

     You struggle slightly against his grasp, and he growls lowly. Turning into him, you press your mouth against his throat, letting your teeth graze his skin as you respond.

     "Then don't be."

     It's all the permission he needs. He snatches you away from the wall, dragging you down the hall toward the master bedroom at the far end. Your heartbeat hammers in your chest as you gaze at the dark mahogany door growing closer and closer with every stumbled step you take to match his hurried pace.

     He turns to glance over his shoulder, and you follow the action as he grips the handle, turns it, and...

     "What the..." Hoseok mutters, rattling the handle forcefully before raising his fist to pound against the door. "YAH! UNLOCK THIS DOOR!" He booms. 

     You hear muted voices and sounds of scurried movement from within. He bangs again and again until the door swishes open to reveal a flushed and flustered Jungkook, still fumbling with the button of his jeans.

     "Hyung! S-sorry, hyung, I was just...we were..."

     "OUT." Hoseok demands icily, pushing the door inward on its hinges to reveal the peppy, strawberry-scented young woman from before hurrying forward to tuck herself behind Jungkook as she draws a hand across her smeared lipstick. 

You bite back a grin as you watch them scuttle down the hall before Hoseok shuts and locks the door behind you.

     "That kid...seriously," he grumbles. "He knows my room is off limits."

     You chuckle, despite his lack of amusement, and he takes your hand again, drawing you toward a small couch at the far side of the large room. You take in your surroundings as you cross the space - similarly furnished to the rest of the apartment. The furniture is sleek and modern, Kaws sculptures and collectible figurines occupy tables and shelves. There are a few live plants, including one hanging from a large hook in the ceiling near a massive, raised canopy bed.

     He draws you to sit beside him, a crease still pinched between his brows, likely from having to evict the irksome intruders. You laugh softly and run a thumb over his forehead.

     "They're gone!" you chuckle, "Don't let it bother you so much. You'll get wrinkles." You tease, and his face softens.

     He catches your hand in both of his as it lowers. He sighs.

     "I needed a bit of water thrown in my face anyway," he smirks, and you glance down bashfully. "Before anything really happens, I think we should have…a conversation." 

     You nod in agreement.

     "Can I start?" you interject and he nods in return.

     You huff out a long breath.

     "I want to apologize for how I reacted...last time."

     He smiles wryly.

     "It was all very new and sudden to me, and...I don't know...I freaked out."

     Hobi squeezes your hand.

     "You have no reason to be sorry about that. I should have never initiated like that somewhere that wasn't really private. I just got caught up..." he shakes his head.

     "No! Me too! I'm glad it happened. I..." you trail off, feeling your face heat. "Oh, fuck, I don't know how to say this..."

     He claims he's not a patient man, but he waits, watching with tender eyes as you choose your words.

     "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it...like..." you take a deep breath as you gather the courage for vulnerable transparency.

     You remember what Jimin said. It's Hobi. You are safe with Hobi.

     "It was like nothing I've ever felt before. Like a release...more than sexual, you know? Like, freedom. Like, I felt so alive."

     He smiles, nodding his head in understanding.

     "I..." you continue, still nervous but with mounting confidence as he makes you feel heard, "I would like to...explore this part of myself, this new world," you gesture, "And...well, I would love for you to be the one to guide me."

     You raise your gaze to his. His eyes are shimmering. He slowly raises a hand and brushes his fingers over your cheek.

     "It would be my honor," he murmurs earnestly.

     A smile blooms across your face and your chest fills with warmth. You raise your hand, curling your fingers into his where they rest against your jaw. He drops your hands, still holding on, to his knee.

     "Can I ask how much you know about the community?" he queries, tracing his thumb softly over your knuckles.

     "A lot more now than I did a couple of weeks ago!" you respond with a laugh. "I know that I'm a sub, but one that likes to...fight back a little bit?"

     Hobi smirks, pocketing his tongue in his cheek. His eyes glint.

     "A brat," he answers. 

     "...Yeah."

     "Want me to work for it."

     Your mouth quirks up in a grin.

     "The harder the challenge the bigger the payoff," he hums, glancing thoughtfully down at your joined hands.

     "I think," he says after a pause, "Since you're new to all this, we should start slow. I already know some things you enjoy, and vice versa. But part of this kind of thing is about testing your limits. You're going to come across things you don't like, too. I need you to be able to tell me. Without a second thought. Seriously."

     He looks at you intently.

     You smile.

     "I trust you enough to know that you’d stop if that’s what I wanted. I may enjoy being dominated but I do still know what I want. And with you...I..." You tug at his hand, "I know I could say what I...need.”

     He huffs out a little breath, his brows drawing together as he regards you in reverence.

     "You know you can be that way with me too, right? Needy?" You ask softly. "I want...to take care of you, that way. Maybe we can...take care of each other." 

     You're not looking at him. You can't. It's all incredibly intimate and strange. When he doesn't respond, you begin to wonder if you said something you shouldn't have. And then your doubts vanish as quickly as they had appeared when you feel his arm slip around your shoulders as he pulls you into his chest, tucking your head beneath his chin.

     Your heart sings.

     After a long, quiet moment, Hobi pulls back to look at you. 

     "Should we set some rules for ourselves?" he asks.

     You purse your lips and nod. Admittedly, you had come with a few in mind.

     "I think...we shouldn't kiss. Well, not on the mouth. It's...I don't know. I think it might make things confusing."

     Hobi looks thoughtful, nodding slowly.

     "Which brings me to my other thought," you chew your lip. "I think this should just be about sex. We're friends, and I want to keep that aspect of our relationship strong and uncompromised."

     He smiles. 

     "Makes sense to me. But..." he says with a raise of his brows, "If we do start seeing other people, I think we should tell each other. Especially if they're going to be people we're fooling around with."

     You give an enthusiastic hum of assent.

“I don’t have a partner at the moment,” you shake your head, glancing up at him.

“Me neither.”

He clears his throat and shifts his stance.

“When we’re…together,” he gestures in the space between you. “What about protection?”

You blink thoughtfully.

“I’m on birth control.”

He nods.

“Okay…would you want me to wear a condom?”

You feel heat creep up your neck as you meet his gaze with a shake of your head.

“Not unless you wanted you.”

He stares at you for a long moment before chuckling and shaking his own head.

“Ay, you’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

You smile and pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

     "Oh! And we already have a safeword!” you remind him with a grin.

     "We do," he acknowledges, his eyes dropping to the glinting metallic ring adorning your throat.

     Your smile falters and your heartbeat quickens…and when he looks back up at you it's like whiplash as he sets you reeling again with a dark, hungry gaze.

     "If that thing isn't a necklace," he rasps, reaching his fingers up to touch the cold silver, "How about we put it to its proper use, hm?" 

     You shiver, pressing your thighs together as your heartbeat drops to your clit.

     "Yeah..." you whisper, your breath already starting to come quicker as you reach for your bag and fumble with trembling fingers with the clasp. 

     Hoseok's brow knits as he watches you open the purse, reaching in to produce a length of light chain about three feet long with a velvet strap on one and a claw clasp on the other. You double it up and dangle it from your hand, your heart thrumming in your chest as you raise your eyes to his.

     "You can put it on me," you purr, "...But you'll have to take it from me first."

     Click.

     That ineffable thing, that invisible force he wields that arrests you has slipped back into place. You can feel it, pouring off him in devastating waves...and you're already starting to drown.

     It didn't take him long to wrestle the leash from your grasp. Now you're on your knees before him, hands at your sides as he leans forward to affix the chain to the o-ring at your neck. You're breathing hard from your struggle. He stands to his full height, wrapping the links around his hand until the line is taught. He clicks his tongue condescendingly.

    "What am I going to do with you now, hm?" he murmurs, tugging at the chain briefly so that you lurch slightly forward. You whine complaintively.

     "Quiet," he hisses in warning. 

     You bite your lip. You need to obey now. Your panties are soaked and you can feel the turgid swell of your clit with every slight motion of your body. If you are good for him, then maybe you will be rewarded. Being a good girl should earn something. Right now, you will take anything.

     Hoseok glowers down at you, tilting his head to the side as his eyes trail over your features, coming to rest on your pouted lips. He wets his own.

     "You like to run that mouth of yours...how about we see what else it can do?"

     Holy fucking shit. You feel saliva begin to pool under your tongue, your eyes flicking down to the bulge at the front of his slacks. You start to raise your hands toward his belt but he yanks sharply upward on the chain, the metal ring biting into the underside of your jaw, ripping a mewl of discomfort and impatience from your lips.

     He lets out a long sigh, shaking his head as his lips curve into a cruel smile.

     "So eager that she can't even wait for permission?"

     You whimper again, biting your lip as he laughs darkly above you.

     "My little whore wants something, doesn't she?"

     You give a silent nod, letting your tongue slip out to wet your lips and watch his eyes darken as his pupils swallow his deep brown irises.

     "Mmm..." He hums in consideration, bringing his free hand to cradle your chin. "I've told you before, sweet thing, if you want something, you have to ask for it."

     Your eyes blink languidly as you look up at him. Your head is swimming as you sway on your knees, the dizzy helplessness of being spun between degradation and endearment hanging over you like a heavy trance. His fingers tighten around your jaw.

     "Come on..." he coaxes in a chilly whisper, "Use that pretty mouth to ask Hoseok."

     You swallow thickly.

    "Wan..." you start softly, but his grip on your jaw sharpens.

     "Speak up, I can't hear you," he commands reproachfully.

     Heat swells up from your neck and sweat begins to tickle your hairline. You know what you want, you've been thinking about little else since he was pressed against you on the dance floor...but the thought of giving your filthy, aching desires shape has every inch of your body trembling.

    "Wan...want..." you struggle over his fingers pressing harshly into your cheeks. 

     He tuts, and the look on his stony features suddenly warns you that if you don't overcome your nerves...

     "Wan' your cock!" you choke out desperately.

     Hoseok's lids dip slowly and his lips part, as if your words have been injected into his veins, and you think you could fucking cum at the sight. His eyes flutter open again and he gazes down. You fight for patience and composure with each maddening second of silence that passes. You can feel your pussy clench and your hands follow suit. Hoseok catches the motion. A sickening grin spreads over his lips.

     "Want this cock, hm?" he hums, releasing your chin from his grasp to palm over the clothed swell inches from your lips.

     You whimper pathetically, letting your eyes slip shut. Fuck you want him. You want your mouth around him. You want to choke on him. You want the thick, sticky milk of his release on your tongue.

     "So tell me, brat," he hisses, wrapping another loop of chain around his palm so that he holds you on a mere few inches of leash. "How do you want my cock?"

     Any shame has been dispelled from your being in the presence of your burning desire, and you raise heavy, lustful eyes to his dark ones.

     "Wanna suck it off."

     You can see his chest beginning to rise and fall with more effort as he pulls you by the leash, in tortuously slow deliberation, until your lips are ghosting over the zipper of his slacks. He glares down at you, the corner of his mouth curling up in a sneer as he holds you in place.

     "BEG."

     A violent tremor of arousal jolts through your abdomen and you gasp.

    "P-please..." you stammer dumbly against the soft, dark cotton.

     "Again."

     "Please..."

     "Please, what?" 

     "Please..." you breath shakily, "Will you fuck my mouth?"

     You feel him twitch under the vibration of your supplicating words. 

     "Alright," he relents in a rasp, "But keep those hands at your sides, understand?”

You nod.

“Unless,” he tugs at the chain again,”You need to stop. Then you grab my leg and squeeze.”

“Okay.”

“What are you going to do, baby? If you need me to stop?”

“Squeeze your leg.”

“That’s right,” he hums and the repeated instruction.

     You chew on your lip as he pulls off his belt and slips open the button, giving a tug at your collar. As you look up at his hooded eyes, you know exactly what to do.

     You nose at the seam, trying for one moment to ignore the throbbing bulge against your cheek as you find the zipper with your teeth and drag it slowly downward, your eyes never breaking his burning gaze. 

     "Good girl," he hisses, pushing his pants down his hips to reveal a pair of tight, black boxer briefs, a sizable strain pulling at the flexible fabric where he's hard beneath them.

He hooks two thumbs into the elastic and tugs down, his fully erect cock springing free to bob against the side of your face. A sticky streak of precum smears across your cheek as you seek his head with your lips, barely having time to register the smooth tip, or the pretty, pulsating veins as you rush to swallow him whole.

    Hoseok lets out a long, deep groan as you suckle greedily around him. Allowing your spit to slick his shaft you pull back, keeping just the crown between your lips as you worry your tongue along his dripping slit.

     He's rock hard and heavy on your tongue as you lean in to take him farther down your throat, bunching your hands into your dress at the aching urge to cup and stroke the velvet skin of his scrotum.

     "Fuck," he grits out from between clenched teeth, "That's right..."

     You bob lower and lower on his shaft, seeking to take as much of him as you are able. When you feel his tip brush the back of your throat, you moan around him. His free hand flies into your hair, and suddenly he's yanking you off of him. You cough and splutter at the sudden motion and he tugs the chain so that you raise watery eyes to him. He releases your hair to absently stroke himself as he lightly pants over you.

     "Asked me to fuck that throat. Think you can take it?"

     You nod as you attempt to wipe drool pooling on your chin into your shoulder.

     "Words," he pushes, snapping the chain around his wrist.

     "Yeah," you mock, matching his tone, a spark of defiance reigniting inside you.

     Hoseok lets out a hollow laugh.

     "So confident. We'll see about that."

     He slips two fingers of his free hand into the strap of your collar and tugs you back toward his cock. You open wide, extending your tongue to catch the head and pull him between your lips.

You move to swallow him again, but he halts you.

     "Keep still," he mutters coldly, and the fingers at your collar hold you tightly in place as he slowly slides his hips forward in a thrust that has him inching toward your soft palate.

Your eyes water, but you have never been more determined to fight your gag reflex as he pulls back and pushes in again, deeper, his cock tapping again at the back of your throat.

     "Goddamn, you really can take it," he groans in a shaky voice. "Such a good little slut for Hoseok. Such a pretty, filthy little mouth."

     Your nostrils flare as you draw air through your nose, and you swallow, the muscle of your throat contracting tightly around him. At this he seems to break, suddenly pulling back his hips to snap them forward as he sets a rough, self-indulgent pace.

     Your eyes water, spilling over from the brutal stretch and sting, but you dig your fingers into your thighs, determined to take him as long as you possibly can.

     You start to feel light-headed, and just when you think you're going to have to tap out for air, Hoseok's pulling you off of him and wrenching your face upwards to run his wild eyes over it.

    You gasp for breath a moment, and then you're opening your mouth to him again, blinking up through bleary eyes in a silent, hungry plea. He shakes his head slowly as he gazes down at you, chest heaving.

     "Shit, look at you..."

     You're a site. Tears and mascara streak your cheeks, saliva and precum slick your chin and neck, your parted lips swollen. Hoseok's fingers twist where they're still hooked into the collar. 

     "You still want it, don't you? My god..." he smears the tip of his cock along your bottom lip.

Your eager tongue wriggles forward to brush over him again. He swallows, and with a growl he slaps his cock down harshly over it. You let out a little sob as your soaking, aching cunt clenches around nothing. 

     "Alright," he mutters in a husky whisper, "Gonna fucking ruin that tight little throat. Gonna fill it the fuck up. Blow my load all over that nasty little tongue. And you want that, don't you? Wanna be Hoseok's pretty little cumslut, hm?" 

     You nod, and then remember the rules.

     "Yes," you croak, and open wide for him again.

     He grits his teeth and tugs at the collar to pull you slowly over him again with a shudder. You've proven more than capable and it's not long before he's chasing release at a punishing pace. It's sloppy and desperate - the hollow, wet sounds as he fucks your face a pornographic symphony. 

Suddenly you think you can feel his cock twitch and jerk as it hammers into your mouth, and when he grows so incredibly hard, you know he's about to reach his peak.

     You lock eyes with him through your tears, watching his features strain to maintain their composure. Without warning he grabs the back of your head and slams into you, arching over as he cries out.

     And he cums.

     Thick ropes spurt down your throat as he quivers and throbs.

     The moment he's spent his last drop of release he fists into your hair and roughly pulls you back, letting his softening cock fall free. You gasp for breath, coughing as you choke down the last remnants of his seed. Lips trembling, your eyes search his face for what you so desperately need...and you find it.

     His lids are heavy over his eyes, mere glistening slips of midnight visible as they gleam down at you; his beautiful lips are parted as he pants, the honey planes of chest glistening with sweat where his shirt fails to obscure it.

     He's breathless and sated and glorious, and you bask under the intensity of his gaze. He releases his hold on your collar and lets the leash clatter to the ground, bringing his hands to your face. He cups your cheeks, brushing his thumbs over the streaks of tears.

     "So, fucking good for me," he mutters shakily, his brow drawn, "Such a pretty, perfect little brat." 

     Your eyes slip shut under his words of praise. You could move mountains if he asked you to, you were certain. In this moment, in this space, anything for this man. Everything.   

     You feel his hands leave your face as he moves to help you stand, before tugging his briefs back into place. 

The heat of the moment past, you become acutely aware of the stinging soreness in your knees as you struggle to your feet – and the sticky ache of persistent hunger throbbing between your thighs. You teeter on your heels as blood rushes to your lower legs.

Smiling, he reaches out and pulls you to him gently by the waist, swiping a thumb over your chin.

     "You were a good girl, baby. So, so good," He coos in a husky whisper. "You remember what good girls get, hm?" He's still calling the shots and demanding answers, but his eyes are soft as they regard you.

     "A reward?" you answer hopefully.

     He hums in assent.

     "That's right, baby. That's right," He brushes at the smeared makeup under your eye. "But let's get that messy little face cleaned up first." 

     After unfastening your collar he sits you down on the bed, bringing makeup wipes to gently dab away the proof of your efforts, and offers you a bottle of cool water. He comes to sit beside you, eyes tracking you attentively as you drink.

     "Want Hoseok to take care of that needy little pussy?" he asks, with a smirk.

     "Fuck yes," you breath as you lower the bottle from your mouth.

     He arches a brow, and you purse your lips in an attempt not to grin.

     "Please," you add in correction.

     "Mmm," he acknowledges thoughtfully, turning to gaze over his shoulder at the spider plant hanging from the ceiling a few feet past the other side of the bed.

     "Does my little girl want to try something new?" he asks, his eyes still on the suspended planter.

     You feel your pulse quicken and stomach twist in anticipation.

     "Yes, Hoseok, I trust you," you respond without reserve.

     He flicks his eyes to your face, brows drawing together. He wets his lips and huffs out a breathy laugh.

     "You have no goddamned idea what you do to me when you say shit like that."

     You look away, smiling brightly as you preen under the heat and affection of his gaze.

     He reaches for your hand and guides you to rise to your feet.

     "Alright, ditch the dress," he orders, gesturing with a flick of his chin as he leans back on his hands and spreads his thighs in a posture of recline.

     You step back to give yourself space, already weak in the knees at the prospect of stripping for him. You steel your composure, a spark of boldness lighting in your belly. Taking a few steps away and turning from him, you look back over your shoulder to watch his face as you reach behind to slowly drag the zipper down your back. You make a slow, sensual show of peeling the garment from your body to reveal a lacy black balconette bra and matching thong. Stepping out of the dress and tossing it away, in nothing but your lingerie and stilettos, you stride back to stand patiently before him.

     He leans forward and runs his hands up the sides of your thighs until they reach your hips where they slide back to squeeze the meat of your ass.

You bring your hands gingerly to his shoulders. 

Tugging your body toward him, he draws himself to the edge of the mattress, pulling you between his thighs as he uses his sharp, white teeth to nip along the soft flesh of your belly. He sucks harshly at some places, leaving flushed little souvenirs of claim in his wake. You don't hold back the proof of your pleasure - repaying his ministrations with gasps and low moans as his hands and mouth explore you.

     Hoseok raises his face from your skin, his pupils wide as his gaze settles at your breasts. 

"Bra off," he commands, squeezing your ass again as you reach back to unfasten the clasp and pull the straps from your arms.

     He hisses and grits his teeth, raising greedy hands to knead at your supple flesh, before pulling them away to twist and slap at your nipples. 

You groan and throw your head back, relishing in the shocks of sensation – gushing, as if you could ruin your soaked panties any further. As you press your trembling thighs together he glances down at the last remaining vestige of your modesty, lips spreading into a wicked grin.

     "You know I can fucking smell it - how wet you are? My god, want you to wear it like a perfume, fuck..." He runs his right hand to rub against the dampness that has the lace clinging to your slit.

     The moan you let out is so needy it's practically a sob. Hoseok laughs low in his chest.

     Suddenly he’s standing and spinning you around, leading you to the end of the bed. He places your hands on the footboard and instructs you to bend over, sliding your hips back until your ass is on full display. He runs his hands over the bare flesh of your cheeks.

    "Now," he growls, "Can't fuck this ass until it's properly marked, can we?"

     You swallow and let out a whine. The blood is already rushing to your head in a familiar surge and in the split second of silence before impact, you know what's coming - the anticipation somehow even more intoxicating when you remember how it feels when he...

     Smack!

     You whimper, your fingers gripping the bed frame as he delivers blow after searing blow. When he has satisfied himself with the flushed tone streaking the globes of your ass, he gives it a final squeeze, commanding you to wait where you are.

     You hear him as he moves to the side of the bed to pull an object from beneath it. He seems to be grappling with something - the clink of metal and soft rustle of leather interrupting the sudden heavy hush. He returns to your side, taking your hands from the bed and bringing you to stand. As he leads you to the far side of the bed, you see it: hanging from the large hook in the ceiling that once bore the spider plant there is a large leather contraption. You've never seen one in real life, but you know what it is.

     "You have a sex swing?" you murmur in awe, momentarily forgetting yourself as you reach out to brush your fingers over the soft leather. There are buckle straps at different places and a metal bar running across the top. He lightly grips your waist, turning you to face him again. He dips his head forward and you inhale the cool mint of his breath.

     "Gonna put you in it," he murmurs, "You remember our word, right?"

     "Yes," you breathe.

“Say it.”

“Foxglove.”

He smirks.

     "Good girl. Panties off," he instructs.

     You couldn't be more eager to pull the sopping fabric down your legs and toss it aside, but when you reach to remove your shoes, he catches your wrist.

     "I didn't say you could take those off, did I?" he reprimands, and your pulse begins to hammer in your throat.

     He’s gonna fucking strap you to this thing in your goddamned heels.

     You comply with him as he helps you into the seat, fastening your wrists together to a strap that has them raised above your head. After securing your hands, he raises your legs, carefully stretching them so that your feet are on the outside of the wide set cables, hooking your heels to catch on the bar across the top to hold your legs, spread wide, in place. With each restriction he checks in, making sure you’re completely comfortable with his choices. 

When he finishes he comes to stand before you, heaving out a sigh through his nose as he trails a hand down the back of your thigh.

     "Look at you," he groans as his eyes rake over your body.

     You can feel your pussy leaking. Your heart pounds. The muscles in your legs strain a bit from the stretch and the bindings nip into your wrists and feet. You are completely exposed to him...and it is utter perfection. Like you were made to be at his mercy. You blink up at him through the fuzzy haze that keeps intensifying as you relinquish yourself deeper and deeper into his control.

     His eyes slip shut for a moment and he gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head before bringing his lips to graze against the back of your calf.

     "Hoseok..." you whisper, trembling. 

     His eyes open and lock with yours. You hold each other's gaze in silence. 

Nothing needs to be said - you both know. You both understand.

     He unbuttons his shirt and slips it off, and after discarding his briefs he is as naked as you are. With one hand he grips your leg, slipping two fingers of the other to slide through the swollen, sticky folds of your cunt. You cry out, your pelvis shuddering - so ripe to be touched that the contact sends a shock like an electric pulse through your being. 

     "What a pretty fucking pussy...so desperate for me," he mutters.

     You watch his beautiful fingers as they slip through your glistening lips and over your throbbing clit before he pulls his hand up. He lets it hover in the air for a moment before bringing it down with a harsh smack against your mound. 

A scream strangles in your throat as he repeats the motion again. Your whole body shakes with arousal. 

He clenches his jaw as he trails his fingers down to your aching hole, dipping in shallowly to gather your bountiful slick. He raises his fingers to his lips, tasting you as he watches you tremble beneath him. He withdraws them with a pop.

     "You know how much you like that? Getting this little cunt slapped?" His eyes trail down. "You're dripping down your fucking ass."

     Shuddering violently, you whimper, tugging impatiently at your restraints.

     "Yah," he warns, and you still. "Guess you're ready for me, huh? Just like that day..." He smirks condescendingly. "You're always ready, aren't you?" He hisses. "Need me so fucking badly...all of the time."

     You sob as your walls contract again and again. He takes his cock into his hand and slides it through your folds, teasing the tip over your clit.

     It's euphoric, but it's not enough. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip as you fight your own desperate need until the copper taste of blood seeps across your tongue. Somehow, it doesn't even hurt – you can't feel anything past the need for him to fill you. You feel his tip prod your entrance and you gasp.

     “Look at me," he rasps.

     Your eyes snap open. Your legs are shaking, vibrating the entire apparatus as he finally, slowly, sinks into your wet heat. The stretch of him is exquisite, and your eyes roll back in your head as he groans, steadily pulling back to push into you again.

“Shiiiiiitttt…” he hisses through his teeth, “Fucking made for me. Does my little brat like that? Hoseok’s cock stuffing that tight little cunt?”

“M-more…p-please…” you mewl, nearly unable to even form the words as his ridges drag deliciously along your taught walls.

     You're so incredibly worked up that already you can feel a climax building in your belly, and he's only just started to fuck you. Unable to touch him any other way, you squeeze around him tightly.

     He lets out a grunt, picking up his pace as he uses the mobility of the swing to pound you onto his cock. 

You cry out, your head rattling against the leather as stroke after stroke sends you hurtling toward your high. Your mouth hangs open, and your vision begins to blur at the edges, the position of your arms making it harder to breathe. It’s going put you over the edge. He catches your glazed stare.

     "Don't you fucking cum until I say," he grits out breathlessly, and you let out a wail, head falling back. 

     You can feel yourself barely holding on as he slams into you, teetering on the edge as you hear his voice.

     "Whose little whore are you?"

     You try to speak but the words won't rattle out of your chest.

     "Whose?" he booms.

     "Yours!" you press out in a sob.

     "Who do you kneel for?"

     "You!" 

     "Who owns this pussy?"

     "Y-you!"

     "And who the fuck am I?"

     "HOSEOK!"

     "Cum, slut." he growls.

...And you free-fall through time and space.

     The summer evening air is warm against your skin as you step out under the rose gold twilight. Behind you the chic dining venue is still abustle, and you wave coworkers a fond farewell as they head off to continue the evening with karaoke. It's been a big day for you, and there's someone you've been waiting to talk to.

     You press the green call button and wait as the line rings.

     "Yeoboseyo?" 

     The warm voice on the other end has a smile blooming on your lips.

     "Hey, Hobi-ssi!" you hum.

     "Hey hey!" he chrips, "What's up?"

     "Oh, nothing," you respond casually, "Just got done with a company dinner. Someone got a promotion, so we all went out."

     There's a pause on the other end.

     "Oh," answers slowly, "That one you put in for?"

     "Mhm."

     You hear him scoff in amusement

     "Well, at least you seem to be taking it well."

     "I'd say I'm taking it extremely well, which is only natural, considering I got the job."

     "Yes, well...wait, YOU WHAT?!"

     You pull the phone momentarily away from your ear as his joyful, raucous laughter blasts through the speaker.

     "You're gonna make me go deaf!" You chide. Your smile is brighter than the setting sun.

     "I'm so proud of you."

     "Thanks, Hobi."

     "You should celebrate!"

     "I did go out with my work friends...but..."

    "You should come over," he interjects.

  The register of his voice has changed. You recognize the new one.

     "Yeah?" you swallow, as your heart rate quickens. "Well...what if I do want to go to karaoke?"

     You wait for his response, watching your ride share pull up to the curb.

     "Yah - you gonna be a good girl…”

     You hold your breath.

     “...Or do I have to make you?"

-FIN-

[prettyboykatsuki]

VIOLET | RAZOR. (GENSHIN)

✾ tags ; afab + gn!reader, aged-up characters, virginity loss/first times, established relationship, mutual virginity loss, nipple play, fingering, oral (f!recieving), creampies (reader is using a contraceptive), reader is mentioned to be an orphan / run away , 18+

✾ wc ; 6.1k (went to edit and went 700 words over the wc. pain)

✾ a/n ; i'm losing my mind btw. razor my only triple crowned character my most greatly beloved my angel my sweet. also i added the aged up tag mostly bc its the genshin fandom but. if u dont like that dont read. ez peazy.

also trust and believe the voice im picturing in this is his jpn dub. this is important

✾ synopsis ; you resolve yourself after many long years of abstinence, you're going to ask razor about sex the minute he comes home.

Razor is human. 

On a technical level, this information isn’t news to you. He looks human. His physical makeup is human. He needs to eat and sleep like humans do. Focusing on the technicals alone, Razor is very, very human.

It doesn’t change that he was raised by wolves, though. And you don’t want it too. You think it’d be a shame if he started to assimilate too much into human society just because he felt like he had too. You know how he feels about it. And that Boreas is the closest he’s ever had to a father figure, thus making his claim about Razor's humanity a rather devastating blow. He feels inhuman all while knowing he is. You think once upon a time, he really did wish to be a wolf. 

You’ve known Razor since you were a teenager. You’d ended up in Wolvendom after your exploration of Teyvat led you to its outskirts. You’d bonded over your similarities. Two orphans with no real place where they fit in completely and complete odd-ball personalities - Razor was an easy friend for you to make. Even when you eventually decided to settle into Mondstat - you’d made a point to visit Razor regularly and spend time with him in the forest. 

You made an odd pair of course, but you didn’t mind. If no one else understood you in the world - you know Razor always would. He’d listen patiently about all of your adventures and sit quietly as you decided to pester him by braiding his hair or teaching him new words. Loyal, obedient, sweet.

You never formally had the boyfriend conversation in the time you’d spent together. One day, however, Razor took you to meet Boreas out of the blue as well as the leader of his pack. You figured maybe it was something he did with his close friends. It only occurred to you that maybe this was a more serious meeting when Razor promptly gestured towards you and introduced you as his mate. 

Razor, predictably, was very confused about your minor freak out. You tried not to let it show during your little chit-chat, but afterwards you’d shaken him by the shoulders and interrogated him about his word choice. This of course didn’t register in his mind at all. According to Razor, you’d been his mate since long ago. He’d been courting you since the moment you met in the way wolves are known too. You’re an adventurer, well-versed in certain animal behaviors for the sake of survival, including wolves. 

And looking back on your interactions he was right,  Razor had been courting you from the start. The news made you flush, and you went back into Razors camp and thoroughly educated him on human courting rituals.

(“Why matter?” Razor asks, head laid in your lap while he looks up at you from inside the tent “Not important.” 

“Why would it not be important?” 

He turns towards you, head facing your stomach as one arm lazily wraps around your waist. He yawns sleepily, seemingly not worried about a thing. 

“You are mate. Mate last until death.” He explains, casually - like he’d always believed he’d spend every minute of his life with you. Like that was the only natural outcome for you both and that he’d never consider anything else. You want to explain, it’s different for humans. Humans don’t usually mate that way, you should say. But the words die out in your mouth as he clings closer to you “Sorry for..not asking.. properly. What are we…as humans?” 

You look down at where he lays, thumb brushing over his cheek. 

“Lovers or life partners. They’re closest to the word mate, in definition.” 

“Lovers easier,” He grumbles, eyebrows tightening at the complex words in your sentence “You want to be lovers with Razor?” 

You laugh. Light and bubbly and warm as you lean forward and try to mask the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. 

“Yes. We’re lovers from now on. And mates. And lupical, right?” 

Razor sighs contentedly into your midriff.

“And lupical.”)

According to Razor, you had been mates from the minute you met. According to your human timeline, you have been dating since you were both around 17. It’s been a long time since then and nothing in your relationship has changed.

You’re an adult now and you work with the city of Mondstat studying wildlife populations. You live in the city in a cottage, and Razor lives with you - though he spends most of his day outside. He does the domestic labor while you whittle away at papers and projects. Because of your job, you still spend a fair bit of time together in the wild. He has plenty of insight about the wildlife in Wolvendom and is keen enough on changes to give significant contribution to your study. His work as your partner is unofficial, but everyone acknowledges that you come together in a set. Where you go, Razor follows.

You’re happy with your life. With your relationship to your wolf-boy boyfriend, with the career you’ve carved out of scratch and the life you’ve built. You left your orphanage young and spent a long time on the run. You’re incredibly thankful for all of what you have and you could never think of what more to ask for. 

This is especially true for you and Razor. You’ve never had any real major obstacles in your relationship. Part of this comes from the wolven habit of mating for life. Concepts like pride are foreign to Razor. He says sorry even when he doesn’t completely understand and he has no concept of betraying your loyalty. Most things you can teach, he learns very quickly. But there are also some things no one ever teaches you to navigate. Some boundaries you can’t be sure you’re allowed to cross. 

You’re a blossoming, healthy person in their twenties and so is Razor. He’s scarred and athletic in the outdoorsy way and he’s a little more rugged now that you’ve both grown. He’s hit a growth spurt and he’s taller than you and every time you see his arm flex carrying in an entire boar to butcher in your yard - you start getting so hot under the collar you feel like you’re going to explode. 

The problem is: you want to have sex and you want to have it badly. You want it so bad it’s starting to make you feel like you’re a deviant. Like you’re some kind of harlot masquerading as an archon-fearing civilian.

But it’s so hard to bring up and you don’t know how you’re ever going too. 

You’re very good at asking for what you want usually. It comes with the territory. And thanks to your boyfriend's cluelessness about human social convention, asking for things isn’t embarrassing. Concepts like shame are learned through a lifetime of socialization that he lacks and while you could sit and try to teach him - you don’t think he would care either way. He listens if you tell him he shouldn’t do something, but that’s because you’re his mate and his lupical. 

What other people think is none of his concern. He cares about his Lupical. So if Lisa or Bennet or Klee tell him something, he might take it into consideration. But they, like you, love the parts of Razor that make him how he is and his complete innocence in some ways is part of that. 

You know you could very well ask Razor for sex. You’ve spent a lot of time together and you’ve learned many things about him. It’s not like there’s nothing there at all. Like his every other trait, Razor normally relies on instinct to guide him. You’ve learned through kisses and dry-humping that he can get hard at least. You’ll probably never know the details of his arousal, and the only you’ll ever find out is by having sex with him. 

You don’t know what else he knows. What Lisa has told him of the birds and the bees. 

You have tried to ask Lisa inadvertently, but she enjoys making fun of you too much to give you any straightforward answers. And in her own maternal way, she thinks it’d be better for your relationship if you go ahead and ask yourself. 

She’s right about that, but it’s also not very easy. You know Razor would never judge you. He doesn’t even have the capacity to do so. But while Razor knows nothing of shame, you certainly do. 

It’s your problem to get over. You know that. You rationalize that your fantasies are healthy and normal for someone your age. But there is something terribly humiliating about trying to express the extent of your desire apart from just having it. Is it fair to teach Razor about desire? Does he know of it already and the both of you just suffer in silence? 

Razor is a man. A grown man, and tougher than most men you know. He’s seen more than almost anyone else as part of living in the woods. You know he’s not some innocent fairy. But you can’t get over the feeling like you’re corrupting his sweet preciousness somehow. 

(This has its own charm, but that’s not relevant. Or maybe it is. Maybe there’s guilt for that too but it’s not something you can unpack) 

You’re reaching your upper limit on patience. Your hand can only do the job so long (though the import of sex toys from Fontaine do help) nothing can truly replace what you want. And what you want is Razor.

So, you’ve made your choice. When Razor comes home from…what he’s doing today - you’re going to ask him to have sex.

__

You’ve finished all of your work, did as many chores as you can, and now you’re waiting in your bedroom trying to read a book.

You haven’t even read past the first page, actually. But you’re trying. It’s hard to do anything meaningful when your brain keeps pivoting back to what's going to happen when your boyfriend returns home. 

You’re nervous and fidgeting, rubbing your socked feet together and running over the laundry list of talking points you’ve concocted trying to make this happen. You shaved but not bare because you know he definitely wouldn’t like it, but you’re clean. You aren’t sure if he’s going to like that either and he’s expressed that he likes when you smell natural. But it soothed your anxiety to shower so he’ll have to leave with it. 

You have no idea how this could go. You don’t even know how to prepare for the worst, because you don’t know what the worst is. But you reassure yourself with the fact Razor loves you and leave it at that.

You hear the door open and take a deep breath. 

There’s heavy footsteps that get louder and louder. Razor cracks the door open politely, peeking his head into your shared room. He makes a face, the softest little smile you’ve ever seen - before letting himself in and shutting the door behind him. He’s quick to undress himself - jacket and scarf abandoned along with his boots. Leaving him in green pants and a bandage around his chest and arsm. 

“Hi,” He says simply, coming down over to where you’re laid. He chooses to sit on the floor, folding his arms on the bed as he looks at you patiently “Missed you,” 

“Hey there,” Your heart is pounding just looking at him. He’s unreasonably handsome. Had he grown up in normal conditions, you think he would’ve been a very popular loner type. “How was your family?” 

“Good,” He says shortly, eyes warm and light “New pup. First time seeing since I was little. Very small and cute.” 

“I’m glad. Bet it’s nice not to be the youngest anymore.” 

“Come next time,” He says genuinely “They miss you.” 

Your heart is so full you think it might burst. It temporarily soothes your anxiety.

“Of course I will.” 

Razors eyes examine you for a minute. Your heart is still racing. Of course he notices it. He knows much more about you than you’ll ever know about yourself. His brow creases in concern. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You look at him apologetically, immediately warmed by how worried he is. You give him a small smile. 

“I’m okay. Just a little nervous. Wanted to ask you about something.” 

“Okay. I listen. No need to..be nervous.” 

Right. He’s right about that. You sit up and Razor remains where he is. He’s seated comfortably on the floor, on his knees - between your thighs. He’s a sight for sore eyes, terribly rugged and scarred with nothing but honesty settled in his gaze. Carmine and beautiful. You fold your hands in your lap and before you can worry too much, Razor grabs one in his hand. 

He kisses your knuckles so gently, leaning his face into your palm. 

“It’s okay.” 

You figure it’s best to be straight to the point. 

“Uhm. Razor. Do you…know what sex is?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, it’s—wait what? Did you just say yes?” 

He nods again. “Miss Lisa taught me.” 

That witch. You take a deep breath. It’s now or never.

“And uhm, what did she tell you about it?” You ask tentatively. 

“Like mating but for humans. Best to do with mate. Good to be careful or else pups will come too soon.” 

You stare at him, jaw slack. 

“Right. And what else?” 

He racks his brain right in front of you. 

“Uhm. Can be for…feel good. Should go slow. Lots of things different from wolf.” 

“...Do you know how it happens? The specifics?” 

Razor goes a soft pink. Razor blushes. 

“Yes.” 

You have no idea what to feel. Not the faintest clue in the world. This is the first time in your entire relationship either of you have been in an awkward situation. You’re partially relieved it’s not completely foreign, partially feeling hot between the legs because you’re not corrupting anything. You make a face of uncertainty. 

“Oh. Uhm. Do you—have you ever.. I mean—have you ever wanted to have sex with me then? I-is that something you’d…want to do?” 

Razor almost looks perplexed by this question. He nods, then follows up. 

“Yes. A lot.” 

You nearly choke on your spit. 

“A lot?” 

“Yes. But.. Miss Lisa said to wait. Until mate asks.” 

You’re going to have a serious discussion with that damned woman later. You take a shaky breath, looking at him carefully. This is going to break you in a way you don’t know if you’ll recover from. But you’re fine, you’ve made it this far. And you don’t want to back down when you haven’t gotten to the finish line. The final blow. 

You’re not completely sure where you go from here honestly. Your brain was fully expecting to go on a long rant about sexual intercourse. Now that that’s out of the window, you’re at a loss. You decide, internally, that going straight forward is the best thing you could do for now. 

“Then… would you want to have sex with me?” 

His eyes widen then he pauses, looking worried. 

“Well…yes. But, worried. Not sure…how.” 

“Well, uhm. Normally it starts with kissing and t-touching and things like that. You can just do what feels right. Uhm.. and I’ll tell you… what I like. A-and what feels good.” You offer, trying not to show just how nervous you are even suggesting ��But uhm… I also… think about it. A lot. With you.” 

His eyes light up, and you can practically see the change in him. You’ve never let yourself get close enough to look but when you see him now that you know, it’s obvious. He’s looked at you like this before. 

Like he wants you. 

“Razor,” You say, bracing yourself for impact “Come up here.” 

He’s quick to his feet. You lay back down and Razor lays himself ontop of you, hovering gently. He smells like forest, the rich warm scent of dirt and sunlight mixed with sweat that you’ve grown fond of. Looking down at you, he presses his forehead against yours with his eyes fluttered closed. 

“Mate,” His breath is warm like he’s been chewing mint leaves and sweet flowers. He does it sometimes before coming home “Love you,” 

“I love you too, Razor. You don’t,” You swallow thickly, suddenly aware of your proximity “Don’t hold back okay? You won’t break me.” 

“Want to..” He thinks slowly, brain clearly struggling to come up with the right word “Cherish. Want to cherish mate. Cherish you.” 

You give him a breathy laugh as he leans in close to you. 

“Did Miss Lisa teach you that?”

“Yes,” He replies, pressing his cheek to yours and rubbing himself against you innocently “Cherish you a lot.” 

“I cherish you a lot too,” You offer and he smiles. You feel your heart thump as you look up at him less innocently “Let’s kiss first, okay” 

He doesn’t reply. This much is familiar. Though this was something you had to teach him at first, you would go as far as saying Razor kisses better than you. He’s better than you in these ways most of the time. He knows how to read your body language down to the most irrelevant details, attuned to your physicality in a way that could only be inhuman. The first time he noticed a change in your cycle after starting some herbal contraceptives, you were turned on as much as you were afraid. 

His mouth is hot and overwhelming, plush as he kisses you passionately. He’s quick to open your mouth up with his tongue. Razor likes to taste. It’s natural for him to slip his tongue past your lips and lick at yours. You think if anyone else did it you’d be turned off. But with him hovering you over you, desperate as he pulls and nips at your lower lip - it’s stimulating.  It makes you wet before you can think about it too hard. Your hands curl themselves around his neck, tangling at the thick roots of his gray hair. 

He moans when you tug, and your eyes nearly pop out of your sockets. You do it again, a little harder and the same broken sound leaves his lips in the middle of kiss. You swallow the noise before pulling away, looking at his face. His face is perfectly rosy, lips swollen from where you’ve been kissing them.

“Did you,” You look at him erratically, eyes going over every part of his face “Did that feel good?” 

He nods, dumbfounded. 

“Felt good but,” He shakes his head in disbelief “Don’t know why.” 

You giggle, delighted with the outcome. 

“No it’s good, that’s normal.” You say trying not to babble “It’s like your body’s weak point.”

“Not weak.”

“It’s not a bad thing. I have some too. Like my neck.”

You can see the gears turning in his head.  He tucks his chin against your shoulder and before you can speak to ask him about it, he’s pressing his lips against the skin of your neck. He doesn’t stop at a kiss, though. He proceeds to lick the small patch of tender flesh, before sinking his teeth into it.

You moan. You moan sharp, almost like a gasp of pain. He opens his mouth to ask if you’re okay but when he sees you he stops. He blinks, then gives you a look you’ve never seen. 

His voice is almost chipped - richer and more hoarse as his fingers go over what can only be bite marks.

“Feels good?” He says, then adds more urgently “Where else?”

You’ve made him discover something. You’re sure of that. He looks awfully determined about it, too. 

You sigh shakily, grabbing his hands. Even though you’re trembling mercilessly, you want this. You want him. You let his hand squeeze around the swell of your tits - your nipples peeking through the thin fabric of your shirt. With your eyes locked on his, you brush your nipples.

“H-here,” You admit watching his eyes go dark. Animalistic. “Uhm. W-with your mouth, you c-can suck on them.” 

He’s quiet. 

“Like pup?” 

You laugh. 

“A little bit like that, I guess. But it’s different.” 

He makes a small, approving noise with his mouth, once again thinking hard about something before he continues down his path. He leaves open kisses all over your skin, hands reaching to undress you. You help him, peeling your shirt over your head and tossing it somewhere. His eyes are shut closed, in bliss as he licks and bites down your neck with no real grace. His tongue is wet and rough all over you. 

You can tell you’re being primed for something animal. Like being tenderized, worked apart in a way that makes you melt into something soft. Something that can be broken without teeth, that can be swallowed in one go. It’s not a romantic kiss as much as it’s a hungry graze, a gnawing lust. He’s not being so reserved anymore, and that means sinking his teeth as far into you as he can go, not enough to break the skin. Razor would never break you. But he might ruin you, might melt you down from your very center until he can tear you apart. 

You thought it’d hurt, and it does - but in a good way. There’s some sick sense of relief in how achy your whole body is. You’re burning up because Razor wants you like he’s starving. An emptiness claws at you, makes the back of your gums ache. Makes all the hairs on the back of your neck stand nearly straight as you sink deeper in. You want to be full of him and you want him to get so full off of you. 

Razor doesn’t stop his tirade even when he gets down to your chest. Instead his mouth closes around your tit, hard incisors sinking into the supple skin but only slightly gentler than before. His canines feel sharper than yours. They must be. 

“O-oh,” You can feel your voice shake as you hold onto the back of his head. He touches the other one with his free hand, squeezing and massaging the skin. He rubs your nipples experimentally in the same way you did a moment ago. “Razor, hngh,” 

A noise is pulled from the back of his throat, a growl - so hard and heavy that it reverberates into your skin. You can feel it spread through your whole body, your core tightening up. Your skin is prickly. A solar flare shooting through your spine. 

You don’t think you’ve ever been so aroused. You can hardly breathe around the weight of it sitting in your chest.

“Your scent..change.” Razor says through a breath, a thick layer of saliva where his mouth once was “Hot. So hot.” 

You nearly whimper. 

“ It’s because I’m wet…Aroused.” 

“Wet?”

“It means I want to be touched. I want you to touch me down there.” 

A beat of silence. 

“Want me..to mate with you.” He sits up onto his knees, staring at you. Your legs are around his waist loosely. He presses a hand to your clothed sex. You jolt at the contact. “Want me to fill you, here?” 

He puts his hand on your hip, on your stomach - before tucking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts.

“Want to see. What’s wet, I want to see.” 

You lift your legs slightly, pulling your shorts off as you're bent at the knee. It’s embarrassing being bare naked in front of Razor, though you’ve seen him in the same state plenty. He’s quick to grab your knee and force your legs apart wide. He’s got that same focused stare, tongue poked out as he brushes the coarse hairs on your mound with his knuckle. You squirm under the feeling. 

“Pretty,” He says first, then follows with “It’s…very warm. Hot but doesn’t hurt” 

Razor explores with his hands. He runs his finger along your slit, before using his thumbs to spread you apart. He nudges your clit. At first you wonder if it's an accident, but when he does it again - rubs a pointed circle on the aching bundle of nerves you realize he’s being intentional. 

“Here, right?” Razor says slowly and gauges your reaction “Feels good for you…here. Helps.” 

You want to ask who taught him such a thing but you already know the answer. You nod helpless, feeling the way his thumb goes back and forth. He tries it in different ways, watches whatever way makes your breath hitch the most. 

“Here makes you… jump. Like bunny rabbit. Like prey”

The word prey almost takes you out. You can’t make your words out very eloquently anymore. “It’s uhm sensitive.” 

He knows the word. You’ve taught him it. He looks at your bare cunt all awestruck, gloved hand resting on your sex as he continues to toy with your clit. You squirm and shake, even trying to pull away. Razor manages to grab you, keeps you pinned with your legs spread, using his own body to keep you like that. 

“Razor,” You moan, grabbing at his wrist “Razor.” 

“Mm. It’s soft. So soft.” 

“I want to see yours.” 

It takes him a second to register your words, but he’s not ashamed in the slightest when he does. He takes off his gloves right before. You’ve felt it, briefly, the weight and heft of his cock through clothes but you’ve never actually seen it. You gasp as he pulls it out, tucking his pants down under his balls. He’s hairy - thick dark gray hairs nested at the base. His cock has a pretty curve up, tip ruddy and bright. It’s drooling, dribbling pre-cum and heavy. He wraps his free hand around the base and strokes it instinctively. It’s a good length, but it’s thick. Thicker than you could’ve ever conjured up in your own mind.

You reach for it between your bodies, your hands trembling as you touch it. Razor lets out another throaty growl. Your hand doesn’t fit around it completely. The back of your throat tightens up.

“You’re—it’s big. I can’t—not at once. I h-have to open myself up a little bit.” 

Razor tilts his head to one side and you shake yours in reply. 

“I need to uhm,” You gesture vaguely “Make it more..wet and stretch myself out. So you fit i-inside.” 

“Want to help. Teach me.” 

“...Teach you?” 

“Easier if I..learn now. When we do it again later. Teach me..how to touch you.” 

The words sound sweet coming out of his mouth, honeyed and loving. An obedient and eager pupil, Razor has always been that hasn’t he? And he always listens the best he can, tries his hardest. You suppose that this instance is no different. You suck in a breath and spread your legs a little more. 

“Watch,” 

Razor watches. He watches as you dip your fingers into your mouth and coat them with saliva. Watches as you snake a hand in between your legs and dip your middle finger down low into your cunt - with a trembling sigh at the sudden intrusion. He watches intimately as you pump them in and out, rhythmic and noisy. The sound of your own wet heat rings in your ears as you spread yourself in earnest. 

Half-way through, Razor puts a hand on your thigh. He pushes your own hand away, and waits for you to open your eyes. He stares at you, long and hard. 

“I want to eat you. Want to lick,” His hand cups your bare pussy “Here. Make you wet. Open you by myself. Want to eat.” 

You’re speechless. Profoundly turned on by the sentiment, so much so you can’t make out your own voice. 

“Uhm,” You close your hands into a fist, tucking your chin. “You can do whatever you like, Razor.” 

He assesses the statement and you watch him take it in. He ends up on his stomach, lying between your thighs. You’re fascinated by his assurance in himself. He takes the right position between your legs. You spread out to give him easier access and he gives you a silent look of thanks. His breath is warm as it fans your cunt. 

Before you get a chance to breathe, Razor sticks his tongue and licks. It’s animalistic with no real finesse at all. He makes up for it with enthusiasm and some conclusions he’s drawn with your assistance. He sucks on your clit nearly feverish, takes it into his mouth like he did your tits minutes prior. It’s drooly and sticky and nasty in a way that makes you ashamed. You’re more ashamed because you like it, you love it really. Spit is running down, dripping down to your ass. It’s a loud slurp - a shameless, nasty hunger in how he licks up your arousal with his mouth and drenches your pussy with spit. 

His groans reverberate into you. He likes what he’s doing. The sound and touch and taste - Razor overwhelms you with all of it. There’s a tangible intensity wrapping up around you, keeping you trapped in the wolf's den. 

You don’t teach him to use his fingers. He seems to have figured it out. The pad of his middle finger draws the spit pooling along your seam before pushing itself into your tight hole. You gasp at how invasive it is at first. Razors fingers are thick and scarred and you can feel the ridges of your raised skin from healed injured when he fucks you open with them. 

It feels good. Being wanted. Being consumed voraciously and openly without any care for shame. Razor is the embodiment of raw desire and all of it- every ounce of it is being used to devour you. The descendant of wolves, the son of the forest - laid between your thighs and eating like something delicious left at an abandoned altar. 

Even clumsy, you’re turned on beyond reason. Arousal leaves you shakily pawing at him to slow down. Your voice is reduced to nothing but small whines and mewls - pleas to slow down that fall on deaf ears. 

“Razor,” Your voice is clipped “Razor, please - it’s enough. Just.” 

When he snaps out of his haze, his chin is soaked with arousal and spit. He wipes it with the back of his hand, looking at you. 

“Tastes good. You taste nice.” He praises, heaving and out of breath. 

Your stomach flares up with new found lust, hands covering your face. 

“Archons, just. Come here.” 

Razor climbs up on top of you again. You cup his face and kiss him hard, tasting yourself on him. 

“You’re so unfair. But I can’t get angry because you’re not even doing it on purpose.”

“Sorry,” 

You shake your head, kissing the corner of his mouth. Trembling with need. 

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I want you inside. Want you to fill me in here, so bad, Razor.” 

His eyes widen. Your desperation must reach him this time, because he nods. innocently. You’re thankful beyond words you’re on contraceptives. At this point, you think trying to use a condom would break you down.

“You just have to put it inside. But please go slowly, okay?” 

“Go slowly…won’t hurt you.” 

Razor sits up on his knees again, drawing your waist down towards him. Before he pushes into you, he lays his cock against your sex - pushing it between messy folds. His expression morphs, his jaw tensing as the head of his cock swells and throbs against your aching clit. It slides and slips so messily, pussy clinging to his hard length. You guide his cock towards your entrance while he leans forward over you. His palms are rough as they grab your hips, hands settling up under your knees. 

You can feel his cock as he rolls his hips slowly. Your nails dig into his back, indenting the skin as you cry out. It’s thick, intrusive as he pushes into your tight little hole. Even after opening you up, there’s an ache inside as the head stretches your pussy open. The raw drag of skin on skin as Razor pushes inside of you. You can feel him with every movement, your legs wrapped around his waist tight.

Razor has always had a limited vocabulary. He likes to speak in short sentences since it’s what he does best. His speech now is a lot more developed, but he still finds it troublesome. 

It stuns you when Razor's grip tightens and he swears under his breath - a single word, long and drawn out as his cock pushes into you deeply. 

“Fuck,” 

“R-razor?” 

“Feels good…feels so good. Want…move. Please.” 

“You can move, just let me hold onto you okay?” 

Razor tucks his head against your neck before he fucks you. In one smooth motion, he pulls himself out completely before shoving himself back in. It’s as gentle as he can go, but you can practically feel him shaking above you. How his whole being urged him to fuck you llike an animal. The desperation rolls off of him in waves, his own hands gripping tighter as he slowly finds a rhythm to fuck you in. Clumsy thrust that turns into careful calculated ones as you urge him to go deeper. 

“Deep,” Razor pants against your neck, his breath tickling your skin. His voice is a low growl as his hips snap up to meet the back of your thighs with each thrust. Your bed creaks each time he moves, the frame knocking against the wood “I’m deep inside you,” 

“Razor,” You sneak a hand between your bodies, clumsily toying with your clit - pleasure ruining your every thought “Harder. Give it to me harder.” 

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Razor gives up on trying to hold himself back. He fucks you with nearly reckless abandon, an impressive amount of strength and weight behind each thrust. His dick pushes in and out of you hard and fast in the most unromantic way. You can feel it all the way up to your throat. It makes the back of legs and and your lower half feel tingly. Your head is blank, nothing but spotted white in your vision. You blink them open to look at Razors face. 

He’s biting at his lower lip hard, focusing all of himself on his thrusts. He’s enduring it well. Your insides clench, a fluttery sensation starting to build up between your legs. You can feel it in your belly, the knot starting to untie. 

Razor is starting to feel it too him. 

“Inside so, ngh - hot.  S-something coming, going to—” 

“A little more. Gonna cum soon, Razor. Feels so good, you make me feel so good.” 

Your mindless praise makes him whimper. A soft noise that echoes through you. You repeat it over and over, in a high voice like you’d praise a puppy. Razor takes it in beautifully, trying so hard not to succumb to his own desires. He restrains despite how hard and how fast and how deep he’s fucking you. You know it’s not easy. 

“I’m gonna c-cum, Razor,” You say, at the very edge “Cum with me. It’s okay, you can let it out.” 

You cum hard. Harder than you think you ever have in your life, then you’ve ever been able to manage by yourself. The sensation hits all at once, like falling through the sky, you can feel the clouds pushed away by the weight of you coming down through. Your insides tighten and tense one last time before everything releases at once, and waves of the aftershock leave your pussy fluttering. You’re washed with pure euphoria, crying out Razor’s name as you cum. 

Razor is quick to follow you. Your own orgasm seems to drive him over the edge, and he cums deep inside. He muffles his cry by biting into your shoulder, groaning as hot seed spills into your cunt with a harsh stutter of hips. He fucks into your pussy, soft and messy before bottoming out and nearly collapsing on top of you. 

It takes you a long minute to catch your breath well enough to speak. 

You rub Razors back soothingly before you do. He lifts his head, eyes heavy as he looks at you. 

“Wow,” He says, eyes wide and blown out. You can’t help but break out into a fight of laughter “Love you…”

“I love you too, Razor.”

“Wanna do it again,” Razor says, looking at you seriously “Can I?” 

You feel a pulse of warmth through your whole body before nodding. 

“Uhm. Yes. Just give me a break first, okay?” 

[bellalove69420]

My main struggles with the percy jackson fandom, but its an ADHD rant, that ended up being wayyyy longer than i meant it too.

I can't wait for them to do a heroes of olympus show (I hope so), and most of these leo girls are so surprised when he isn't this super hot, conventionally attractive guy, because in the book he isn't supposed to be conventionally attractive. He's supposed to be kinda ugly, that's one of the reasons he's so jealous of Jason.

It's one of the things that frustrates me most about the percy jackson fandom, is some of the erasure that goes on, in lots of characters. I mean so many. Not only Leo, but also Nico, Piper, Hazel, and Frank. People think of these characters in such ways that are so base level.

There are probably many others, that is just off the top of my head. Now there is things that are understandable, like how Hazel is just a cutie pie, but even then, I feel like people erase how truly powerful she is.

Also, minus nico, this happens mostly to the characters that are people of color, and I'm white, so I don't want to speak to much on something I don't understand. But it is something that happens very much, is that people see these characters as what they are on a base level, but not on a deeper level. Whether that is Piper and how she is barely brought up to be Native American anymore, and Rick Riordan hasn't done this, but I feel like this fandom has majorly white washed her. This has also happened with Frank, who, yes, in the book he does say many times "I'm from Canada, I'm not really Chinese" but thay doesn't mean as a fandom we erase that from him entirely.

This also happens with LGBTQ+ characters, I STILL find people writing nico di angelo x FEMALE readers. Which is unexeptable and not okay. That man has been out as gay for 10 YEARS, and people are erasing that as such a huge part of his character. What is wrong with u, there is a whole chapter that made me SOB as a 13 year old, that you people are not going to take away from me. Especially from someone who was outed.

Also, there are so many fanfictions I read where I feel like everyone's ADHD is just gone, like not there at all. What happened to that? That's such a huge part of how people discovered they were demigods. That's coming from someone who struggles from ADHD, also, if you don't know how to write it, do research, Google is free, and easy to use, and there is many good resources for ADHD research.

So, yeah, as a whole for such a wildly inclusive book series, that I love so much, I feel like this fandom needs to work on the erasure of minorities, as a whole.

[azgfggf]

For a while I’ve been trying to articulate why XWP means so much to me, and I think I’ve figured it out. It seems to come from a bizzaro world where everything is just. Equal. It feels like a real feminist show because the women are so respected.

I realized this when watching episode 6 (or seven maybe?) there was a scene where Xena was imprisoned, feet chained to the floor and hands to the ceiling. A group of men came in with the express purpose to harm, and in a moment of clarity I realized that I didn’t fear for Xena in the way I did for every other female in fantasy. Fantasy (as a male dominated genre) is full of sexual violence towards women, often used as story beats or just shock. It permeates women’s real lives and bleeds into what they read for escapist fantasy. For a long time I’ve felt as if nowhere is truly safe, because most fantasy media eventually has a scene or two where a woman is violated, or a costume that’s glorified lingerie, and I have to remind myself that this genre was never made with women in mind. But that scene ended with Xena beating the shit out of them, because they tried to beat her. Not assault or grab, just punches and kicks, like men would fight in fantasy. And she fucking won because she’s Xena and she’s awesome.

Again, in many episodes men want her. But they’re never violent towards her. In the show she is treated like a man would be treated in any fantasy setting. With respect. That’s true escapism for me, some world where that kind of violence either doesn’t exist or isnt prevalent. A world so easy to make, and yet so often thrown aside because of “historical accuracy”. In fiction. The specifically not historically accurate genre where you can pull anything out of your ass and people just kinda have to vibe with that.

I’ve also mentioned this before, but it’s so rare in fantasy for women to be…carefree I guess? Most of them are jaded from past violence, or future survivors, or meek healers, or old wise women. None of which are very allowed to be silly like their male counterparts. They’re always serious, always the voice of reason. Always so reigned in from what male characters are allowed to be. Xena has a dark past, but she’s still kind. The story is still light. Women are allowed to be happy without being victimized.

XWP is fantasy first and foremost, and it works wonders. There are POC everywhere, and nobody calls attention to it because, well, that’s just how it is in Xena-land. There’s no sexual violence toward any strong women, because, well, that’s just how it is in Xena-land. People fight on bamboo poles and race chariots in rivers and the steaks only go up to “Ooooo she has to marry the big bad” which never goes anywhere because we all know Xena is gonna stop them.

Xena Warrior Princess is always gonna be my favorite fantasy show, because it’s fantasy that’s finally geared towards women. A fantasy where women are safe, are capable, are treated in the same regard as men with no quippy girl-power one-liners because nobody needs to quip about the status quo. In a genre where women are so often demeaned and violated for minor story beats or shock value, seeing a work that actually feeds into a more female fantasy is what I’m obsessed with. It’s wonderful to see a magical world where women don’t have to live in fear. Or they do, like because cyclops’s n shit but everybody else does that too.

PS: this mostly applies to modern fantasy. Tolkien and Lewis were two authors I grew up on who I largely blame for my fantasy obsession today.

[hestzhyen]

Chapter 55 Stress Posting

Greetings, dear void. It is time... FOR A HAKURI PoV CHAPTER! And more JP-EN yapping from me than usual because honestly, this chapter was cool, but it was mostly set-up for whatever's going to happen next week. There's not much to muse on without trending towards pure speculation rather fast. Plus I finally got access to the JP version so I've been despairing at how far I have to go to actually learn the damn language...

But hey! Another color page next week! Hokazono-sensei's really suffering from success isn't he? Kagurabachi's getting the top-tier marketing push now that it managed to get over 1M copies in circulation with only 4 volumes out. Maybe we'll start to see the same level of CPs as Akane Banashi soon!

Samura and the Makizumi

Who the hell are you?

Does whatever he's got going on explain the female bearer's super young appearance...? The EN TL leaves it vague here, but JP is pretty specific that his body is that of a child but he isn't one in truth.

Why the adult in a child's body thing at all though? Why mimic Samura like that too? And why are we getting that packaged with a lazy-yet-competent commander archetype? Something about the combination of traits for this character just rubs me the wrong way. The cognitive dissonance worked -I'm interested in him and his situation- but it's unpleasant to deal with. This introduction felt unexpected in a bad way. I bet I'll be a minority on that though so I'll keep my rubbish opinions about him to myself. Maybe.

I have a theory on why Mini Samura is copying our favourite blind fighter guy at least. The official name for the squad in Japanese is 神奈備御庭番-座村親衛隊 [Kamunabi oniwa-ban - Samura shineitai]. The professional EN TL will parse all that much better than I can, but I just want to point out something fun. The last word (親衛隊) means "elite guards"/"bodyguards". Most of the time. It can also mean "groupies" or "ardent fans". So take that and stuff it in your back pocket in case the squad doesn't job here.

Anyway, this chapter is why we met the Makizumi [巻墨] a few weeks ago in chapter 50. Yes, it's the same kanji as "Masumi" that they were introduced as. I'm not sure why since my Japanese is, uh, not great. But it's not an EN translation error. The original JP indicates that Uruha says ますみ [masumi] in Ch. 50 via the Ruby next to the kanji. This time, however, the Ruby over their name in the spread says まきずみ [makizumi]. At least it's not truly a new name I suppose? The meaning -Rolled Ink- stays the same regardless.

At any rate, these guys are definitely all going to live and fight another day. Because named teams full of elite personnel formed for a specific purpose have great survival and success rates in this series. Yup. (Maybe being ninja will make the difference? Somehow???)

Who trained these guys, I wonder... Samura's hella scary for an "assistant master".

Samura getting annoyed that his disciple joined the fight...! It's sweet of him to care and still treat Uruha like an apprentice in some ways. They're both war veterans who have seen and experienced too much, but some dynamics don't change with the passing of time.

I appreciate that the villains and their tactics are well-thought out. Adjusting to fight a blind man with super senses isn't done as well as one would like in many series, sadly. They often get to style all over their enemies because they're underestimated, then are treated like a sighted person with a gimmick thereafter. But the Hishaku ain't about that and have actively planned against him by scrambling his smell and hearing while also sending Mr. Hatshaku and his undetectable trees. Very smart on Hokazono-sensei's part!

This is just so awesome! The spreads of Chihiro and Hiyuki meeting and parting again in ch. 29 are two of my absolute favourites in the series so far, so to see it again (kinda) makes me happy.

Samura cut part of Uruha's topknot here. He played it that close, huh. It's pretty cool that Samura has a wild fighting style that his allies have to adjust around. Normally blind fighters are super precise but Samura's just slicing and dicing anything that's living and ready to kill! But if you're that good then I guess it's worth training a few people to be able to compliment your moveset so they can safely support you.

Samura and Uruha aren't in perfect sync, and Uruha's still willing to take risks and throw himself into danger. But he's more than capable of being an asset in this fight without guaranteeing he'll become a burden later (unlike a certain someone...).

Uh Oh

He's so cute with his big ol' eyes and pensive expression.

Did Chihiro whip out his phone while keeping Hiruhiko pinned to the seat with his foot!? Anyway, this is only the second time in the series where he hasn't appeared in even a single panel. So we get to spend a whole chapter getting exposition via Hakuri!

I'm gonna take some time to yap about him because it's been nearly three weeks since he showed up a lot and I missed him terribly.

Stop, stop, STOP!!

Note: Hakuri's line in the panel before (...俺だけじゃないか" ["I'm the only one."]) doesn't directly match up to Kyora's final line from Ch. 43 (私だけだ... 私だけが全うできなかった ["I'm the only one... who failed to fulfill my duty."]), so it's not a direct reference even if the TL makes it seem like one. Hakuri's sentiment is different- his is "I can't be the only one" vs. Kyora's "I'm actually the only one". There are just a lot of characters who are convicted in their beliefs in this manga!

So much for getting to recover in 30 minutes, I guess.

Really cool that we see the mask "assembling"! It's only been shown intact when he activates the storehouse sorcery up to this point. So it's a neat visual representation of his resolve coming together during the time crunch as well. Hakuri is nothing if not dedicated to hurting and throwing himself into danger for the sake of others. Even after Healer Lady set up a flag for him to become useless or worse if he does so here. Oh, Hakuri...

He's helping Chihiro because he wants to make the world a safer place. Plus his whole thing after Ice Lady is that he'll "never let a life slip through [his] hands again". It's exceptionally noble and heroic of him! But is it worth potentially derailing the plans via brain damage or permanent ability loss?

Hakuri's not gonna die, obviously. I'm also 50/50 on him losing access to his sorcery at all, much less permanently. But something's going to get fucked up here and it'll probably be his fault. Again. He's gotta learn how to value himself the hard way, apparently. All we can do is wait to see what price will be paid for Hakuri's reckless disregard for his own well-being. (I'm not sure how I feel about this, but what if Hakuri gets Healer Lady killed? He could go 2/2 on women who were kind to him dying because of his actions right in front of him. Man that would suck.)

This is looking to be like one of the developments I was hoping for at the end of the Rakuzaichi arc. Hakuri does NOT chill when it comes to saving lives. Being borderline suicidal about this is his way of atoning for his and his family's sins, in my mind. But is it better to risk your life every time, or let people get hurt -possibly die- to keep doing greater good in the long-run? It's a common question raised in super hero comics, and I hope we get to see it explored with Hakuri (and Uruha) here. I'm really interested in what Hokazono-sensei has to say about it and the dissonance it would cause in Hakuri's character.

Arc Soothsaying

This is just a supposition, and I've been wrong so many times that I'm kind of hesitant to put this out there, but here goes. I know I can be as cringey as I like in your ambivalent embrace, kind void.

I think... I think... Hakuri's growth this arc will be specifically learning to value himself enough that he's able to act against his ideals.

Recall how Hakuri was the one to point out that Uruha knew the value of his life in Chapter 48 when he would have charged right in. And now he's with Samura, the guy who fights and kills to preserve himself despite it going against his Buddhist beliefs. Hakuri's constantly pushing himself to the limit, refusing to let other people get hurt for his sake. He won't let himself be the only one risking his life even if there's no strategic value for him to act- even if it would most helpful for everyone if he ran to safety. So I think he's going to have to put saving his own life above anything else later this arc and it's going to be terrible for him.

It would compliment the theme of negative self-image that's been set up with Chihiro too. They're both heroic, though it usually comes across in completely opposite ways (Chihiro's in his villain era right now, for one). And both of them have a lot of work to do when it comes to learning how to love themselves. Hakuri to understand his own "value", Chihiro to understand he's not a monster.

Learning more about the Bearers, Kunishige, and what happened in the Seitei war will almost certainly help Chihiro to realize he really isn't so different from the heroes he idolizes. As for Hakuri, it's hard to say right now. Uruha's going to be important to his growth I'm fairly certain. But we haven't even met all the Bearers yet so I don't want to start thinking in absolutes about who will help who and in what way.

We also have to wait and see what becomes of Hiruhiko after this encounter. He's obviously meant to be a counter to both Hakuri and Chihiro; how that manifests, exactly, is something I'm looking forward to seeing. It'll give more insight on how we can expect them to develop. Chihiro and Hiruhiko are pretty blatant right now with their outlook on what it means to kill and such, and there's set up for Hiruhiko to clash with Hakuri over what it means to be an equal and a friend.

For Chihiro and Hakuri... too early to say. Need to see what happens at Senkutsuji. My instincts are saying a rift of some kind will form between them over killing, equality, and/or their self-sacrificing tendencies but I'm always wrong, so. Just waiting and watching on that for now.

Anyway. Thanks as always, void. Here's hoping our boys don't have to suffer too much in the coming weeks/months. Except Hiruhiko. He can suffer enough for all of them.

[yan-lorkai]

Hii, i hope you're doing great! Can i request child!reader with yandere!obey me characters (specifically Solomon and anybody else is up to you ) who has a hard time expressing emotions and they mostly show 'em through actions (happy=gives gifts or something like that)

Thank you in advance and have a great day! :)

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Hiii (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)/~, this was such a cute request I loved it. Hope you like it and have a great day too!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warmings: Platonic yandere, very minor spoiler abt Solomon's past, brief mention of hypothetical trauma/abuse

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Characters: Solomon, Lucifer & Barbatos

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Solomon is a human, although many disagree with this fact. He is human and when he was just a little boy expressing himself was not possible; His very existence was a secret, so he can kind of understand why you are the way you are.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He quickly notices that you don't express yourself like an ordinary child. A child your age would be exploring the world through imaginative games, a child your age would cry in frustration or because they are afraid, or they don't understand something. Children are complex like that, but you are so much more complex.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ You don't show your feelings or your thoughts to him, or to anyone. And he wants to find out why; Could it be shyness or something that caused this difficulty in demonstrating what you think and feeling? He doesn't know yet, but he will soon, in the meantime he accepts the small gifts you give him when you're feeling happy, an attempt you make to let him know that you appreciate him a lot. Solomon loves your little gifts and as you give him more and more gifts, the more he realizes that it is through them that you express yourself.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ And he uses words and actions to let you know how important you are to him. He plays with you till you're falling asleep, he'll make you laugh till you're crying and your belly aching, for you are like his own little sibling he didn't have. And he loves you a ton.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ But if this difficulty you have is due to some trauma, rest assured knowing that he will remove whoever hurt you from your life. In the meantime, he can sit down with you and talk about healthy ways to express yourself and it may be awkward at first but he only wants to help you.

⠀⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Lucifer is pretty much the same. Well, he was once, his words are harsh most of the time and his actions are too subtle for anyone unaware to understand. So yes, he can see from afar that you can't express yourself as you should, Lucifer doesn't know what happened to make you like this, but he's going to have a long talk with you about it to make sure it's just something childish and passing, and not something more serious.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ You give him gifts and even made him a blurry stick figure drawing of you, his brothers and him when you're happy. Your gifts are simple, but he loves them so much and is constantly repeating the things that make you happy so that you give him more gifts and remain happy, forever. It's like a never-ending cycle, a cycle he will repeat and repeat just to hear your soft laugh and your shining eyes.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He likes it when you're happy, that means you won't ignore him when you're angry or throw rocks at him like you once did. If you were an angel, then surely he took you as some kind of apprentice and that's why he also made you fall with him and his brothers after the war. He knows this is extremely selfish of him, but he can't help it. You are family now and families stay together.

⠀⠀

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Barbatos is observant. He notices the subtlest things and watches them from afar, so naturally he feels curious about you. You are different from Diavolo when he was a child, you are different from Luke, Barbatos wants to understand where this difference comes from. It's interesting for him to see you interacting with the people you like and the world around you; he instantly realizes that giving gifts is how you express yourself.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ When you're happy you give him gifts, you distance yourself from him when you are sad, you remain quiet when you are angry. And Barbatos knows how to handle your moods perfectly without being annoying or condescending.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ In gratitude for your gifts, usually Barbatos gives you delicious sweets, sews you beautiful dolls and plushies. And sometimes, he just lets you stay in the kitchen while he cooks, answering any questions you has or having you help him. It's the little moments he spends by your side that are important and you seem to agree by the way you has a small smile on your face.

[periwinkla]

Character Parallels

I've been replaying the trilogy recently, and it made me think... there are so many parallels? Some may be unintentional perhaps, but still. But what fascinates me the most is that all the paralells have pretty blatant contrasts by the end - somehow emphasized by the 'ending' of it all. Gregory - Phoenix Both become parents at 26, but Gregory loses Miles when he's 9 and Phoenix gets Trucy when she's 8 - so the difference is that basically Phoenix resumes where Gregory left off. Trucy - Miles Both adopted by lawyers at around the same age - both lose their parents in a courthouse - both precocious children who excel in their chosen path at an extremely young age - both somewhat extravagant, Trucy with her magician getup and Miles with his formal way of dressing and fancy talk. The difference between them is obviously that Trucy was lucky enough to have a decent, loving parent while Miles was not. * the above stuff is also why I really want Miles to co-parent because it would just come full-circle and would be fodder for great character development for both him and Trucy but I digress Phoenix - Miles The contrasts between them are mostly about their attitude towards things and nothing too specific, so I'll focus on the similarities here. They're both manipulated by someone they trusted, both accused of murder because of that person's plot - both kinda try to rush to their deaths because of it (Phoenix eats a necklace(d) with poison, Miles confesses to a crime that would lead to a death penalty). The difference here is basically that Phoenix tends to prefer taking care of things himself - he likes to help, but hates to be helped. Probably didn't even let Miles be in the country during the whole thing, he probably only him help with the implementation of the jurist system from afar. Both try to hide their emotions and are secretive (but Phoenix is more successful, while Miles kinda sucks at it) - both accused of forging evidence (although Miles doesn't get disbarred because of it). Both try their darn hardest at helping people because they've helped each other and were inspired by the other's words and actions in the past and become the person they are today because of it. They're mentors, but they also learn from their mentees, and each other - okay this is turning into narumitsu real fast I'll stop Kristoph - Manfred Both manipulative, egotistical and prideful to the point where a minor blow to their ego makes them go murderous and vindicative - both dedicate their life to ruin the one that offended them. In Kristoph's case, it's both towards Phoenix and Zak, actually - Kristoph also murders a father (well, actually, he murders two fathers), like Manfred killed Gregory. Both also have a relative that needs to cope with what they did (Franziska and Klavier). The contrast here is mainly that while Manfred ultimatelly confesses fully, we never discover what Kristoph's black locks were truly about. Franziska - Manfred Both shot, but in different circumstances - Manfred takes a vacation in order to recover and make sure absolutely no one knows anything, but Franziska tries to go straight to court and wears her injury with something akin to pride (a bulletshot won't stop her, neither will what people think of her) Dahlia - Kristoph They both manipulate their sibling to do their bidding (although Klavier was unaware, unlike Iris) - both fans of poison - both destroyed by the person they despised the most - the difference here is that Kristoph did everything by himself (he manipulated Klavier, but he wasn't aware), while Dahlia conspirated with multiple people (Iris, Morgan, Valerie) There are probably others, but these are the ones that stuck out to me the most. Gosh I love Ace Attorney's writing.

[dokoni-mo]

Warm Water || William Afton x GN! Reader

summary: you find yourself exausted, but he knows just what to do.

mostly SFW // Fluff

word count : 3773

warnings: age-gap relationship (reader is 20, Will is almost 40), dom/sub undertones, secret relationship, will is obsessive but not as much in this one, fluff, kisses, non-sexual nudity, cuddling, Willy has scars, pet names, exhaustion, hickeys, swearing, Will likes being called sir i just know it, cuddling, non-sexual intimacy, not very proofread, also just laregly a lot of rambling adfjafk idk im so tired, very very slight sexual themes so minors dni

a/n: i'm tagging my normal people for Crave (aka the peepaw chronicles) for this because it does take place in the same universe, but i'll leave it up to interpretation on whether or not you deem it cannon to the story (so im sorry if you didn't want to be tagged!!),, this is probably the most-self indulgent thing i've ever written so please bear with me,, i'm just very tired from school LMAOO and wanted to write smth more fluffy with willy and his lil bun

~~~

William Afton fucking hated baths. He hated a lot of things, but baths were probably towards the top of the list.

Even thinking about them made his skin crawl. Just the thought of sitting there, in your own dirt and grime? In a stuffy, humid room next to where the toilet is? Disgusting. He didn't consider himself to be a germaphobe, no. That wasn't it at all. He worked with children on a Monday-through-Friday basis. He wasn't scared of germs or getting sick. He'd built up quite the immune system over the years of working at the diner.

He just found the notion of sitting there like a big, sweaty dumpling inside of a soup comprised of water and your own dirt, sweat, and germs revolting.

But you liked them. You liked them a lot.

It was one of the few things William didn't quite understand about you. How could you like something so gross? You had explained your reasoning to him before when he had first found out. Something about how the warmth all around you was comforting, as well as the various different soaps and scents you could use to spruce it up. But, try as you might to explain it, he still didn't understand. Couldn't a shower do the same thing? Without you having to sit in your own filth?

Whatever. He wasn't going to argue with you about it. His bunny enjoyed many strange things, but he wasn't going to take any enjoyment away from them just because he didn't understand. He loved you. He'd never do such a thing.

As out-of-character as it was for him, he found himself buying more bath-related things to secretly store away in his bathroom. For when you came over, of course. You seemed to appreciate it when he gave the array of soaps and other liquids to you, giving him a nice kiss on the cheek. As much as he didn't understand your reasoning, your little smile was all he cared about at the end of the day. He could tolerate your conflicting views. That's what love is all about, isn't it?

William didn't share too many disagreements with you. Not as much as he initially expected when he first made you his. You were soulmates, after all. It's only natural you share similar perspectives.

It was both a blessing and a curse, however. As much as William liked how similar you were, there was a few things he wished he kept for himself and himself only. Such as the work-ethic the two of you shared.

The older man was somewhat of a workaholic. While he reserved the weekends for you and only you, he was much different during the week. He would spend extra hours at the diner frequently. And, when he wasn't at his restaurant, he was tinkering away at some side-project down in his cellar. It wasn't very healthy, but it's how he liked to do things. Gave him character, but also made his hair turn grey.

You liked his grey hairs, though. And he was still handsome with it.

But, his bunny was the same way. You being in college, you had a lot of work to do. Sometimes so much that you'd have to bring your assignments over to his house on the weekends and do them there, even though the two of you agreed long ago that the weekends were couple time. You were a driven little thing. William could see it when he got to watch you work, in the pain in your lower back and shoulders, and in the dark circles under your precious eyes when you fell asleep next to him.

Poor bunny. He didn't want you to work so hard. It hurt his heart seeing you so stressed all the time. Your schooling is important, yes, but you mustn't be so hard on yourself. You're a clever little rabbit. You don't need to devote so much of your time on work, surely not.

Besides, sometimes, William couldn't help but feel a little jealous when all your attention was on your books and papers rather than him.

This was one of those times.

With the turn of the seasons, your professors had also swamped you with several different tests and assignments to turn in sooner rather than later. You never really liked to complain about it to William, he found, but he could tell that the pressure was weighing on you. This had been the third weekend in a row that you had brought your coursework over to his house, your nose buried in the pages; your eyes on the words rather than him.

William kept you company while you worked to have himself nearby, but he couldn't help but be a little peeved. The weekends were sir and bunny's time. Not boring old college.

The brit was watching your back as you scribbled away in your notebook, sitting on the floor in front of him with his coffee table used as your make-shift desk. You had been at it since the moment you finished the breakfast he made you this morning, and now the Utah sun was just starting to creep below the horizon. Worry was in the older man's grey eyes. When was the last time he saw you stand up? Or even scurry yourself to the bathroom? Or get a drink of water? He couldn't remember. And that wasn't good.

He was a patient man, yes, and did value a college education. But William was tired of waiting for you. He barely gets to see his adorable bunny during the week. He'd rather spend this time with you curled up in his bed, closer to him on his lap, or just talking to you. But you hadn't said a word in hours. Even though you were right in front of him, he missed his bunny. And the amount you were working was getting a little ridiculous for his tastes.

"Love?" He asked you through the silence, gently reaching out a hand and rubbing circles into your back, "Are you almost done? It's getting late, little one."

He watched as you looked over your shoulder towards him, but not enough to have your full attention. You seemed just a tad annoyed with him, but he understood. When you were concentrated, you didn't much like him disturbing you.

But he didn't much like not having you in his arms right now.

"Umm..." you breathed, "I dunno, Will. I have, like... two chapters left? To take notes on? So just a little longer, okay?"

The older man felt his jaw clench, "You said that three hours ago, bunny."

"I know, I just... I need to get this done before the deadline. I'm sorry."

"And when exactly is all this due then, hm?"

"Uh... friday?"

"It's Saturday, love."

"I know, I know, just... Just gimme one more hour. Then I promise I'll be done."

William let out a sigh. You had said that three hours ago, too.

The brit watched as you went back to scribbling away in your notebook, finding himself more annoyed. Not at you, of course, but by the situation. You didn't need to work this hard, no. You were William's bunny, after all. You shouldn't ever need to lift a finger around him. But, you were a workaholic just like he was. You liked doing things yourself

He loved and hated you for it.

His fingertips still on your back, William felt his other hand reach up to smooth your hair away from your face. Even though he didn't get a direct shot of you, he could tell that you were tired. He could see the dark circles under your eyes from his spot on the couch, and the slight redness that had crept into them. Hell, your back must be aching too from sitting on the ground for so long. And didn't your pretty little head hurt? Surely it did.

Sweet bunny. You needed a break. You needed to be done for the day. Plain and simple.

Reaching forward, William pressed a few soft, warm kisses to the side of your cheek and hair as he took your pencil away from you, laying it on the table. When you turned around at him to protest, he seized the opportunity to capture your lips into his, lingering on your sweet taste for perhaps longer than he should have. He pulled back and brought his hands close, cradling your jaw a few inches away from his face.

"I think you've done far enough for today, little one." He said to you, using his thumbs to caress your cheeks, "Wouldn't you agree?"

He could feel your cheeks heat slightly under his touch, "Will, if I finish today, I'll have time to visit your office during the week. So I really need to finish."

William let out a chuckle. He always did like having you in his office. It was cute you were thinking of him.

"But you're here now, my love." He said, "And I want you now."

"I... I want you too, but-"

William shushed you before you could continue, leaning in and giving you another sweet, long kiss.

The brit pulled away, looking into your tired eyes again, "You work far too hard, bunny. You'll burn yourself out. And I want my little rabbit to be happy, yeah?"

You nodded in response.

"Of course I do. And I'd hope you'd want the same for yourself, yes?"

You nodded again, "Yes... sir."

William's soft smile widened as he let out a pleased hum, "Good bunny. Now, why don't we relax a bit, hm? You've definitely earned it, my darling."

He watched as your cheeks heated up some more, your eyes flickering downward, "I... I think I'm gonna be too tired to-"

The brit chuckled, "No, love, no. I'm not talking about that. I was thinking of something a little different for tonight."

"Like what?"

"You still like baths, right bunny?"

"Yeah? Why?"

William couldn't believe he was saying this. But, he knew it'd have to be something special to get you away from your work. Luckily, he knew just what to do. Even if it wrecked his pride just a hair.

"Would you care to join me for one?"

You furrowed your brow in confusion at his words, but a soft smile still remained out of amusement.

"Join you? For a bath?" You asked.

"Yes, love."

You let out a little laugh, "Will, you hate baths. You've made that really clear over these last few months."

William let out a hum, brushing some more hair away from your face, "Yes, I do. But I love you far more than I hate them. And I know they're always relaxing for you, love. And I want to help you do just that. You're tired, bunny. I can see it."

He leaned in and gave you a quick kiss on the forehead.

"Just let me take care of you." He continued, "Like I promised I would. Can you do that for me, love?"

The older man saw how your smile widened at his words, "Fine, fine. Just promise me you're not gonna complain the whole time."

"Of course not, bunny. Now, come here. Let me pick you up, yeah?"

William took you wrapping your arms around his neck as you accepting his invitation. Leaning down a little more, he scooped you up into his arms and held you close, pressing a kiss to your blushy cheek a you giggled as his strength. Your legs wrapped around his waist, he carried you all the way from his living room into his master-bathroom, placing you down so you could sit on the lidded-toilet.

Rolling up his dress-shirt sleeves, William opened up the cabinet under his sink and looked at the vast array of bath materials he had collected for you. He pulled out each one and laid them on the ground, making sure the labels were pointed towards you so that you could read them.

Once all of the products were out, the brit closed the cabinet and took a knee in front of you for you to discuss with him which ones you wanted to use.

"Do you even know what these things are?" You asked, picking up a clear bottle to read it more closely.

"If I'm being honest, love," he said, "I have no idea. The woman at the shop helped me pick a lot of them out."

You giggled again, "Well, this here is a bubble-bath. You put it in the water while it's running and it makes a lot of bubbles. And that baggie is bath salts. It just makes the bath, like... mineral-y."

The older man quirked a brow, "Mineral-y?"

"It's hard to describe! It's just good for your skin."

"I see." William reached down and picked up a pinkish jar, "What about this? It doesn't look like you've used it that much."

"Oh, those are petal-soaps. They look like flower petals but they're actually soap. They dissolve in the water after a while. They make the water smell like roses too! I was saving them for a special occasion."

"Well, is this a special enough occasion?"

"Getting the Mr. Afton into a bath? Hell yeah it is."

William chuckled, "You flatter me, bunny."

You smiled back at him, "The petals and the bubble-bath will be nice. That's what I wanna use."

"If you say so, love."

With your final approval on the products being used, William shifted himself over to his large, porcelain-white bath, reaching in and stopping the drain before turning the hot-water valve on. The sound of the water hitting the dry tub filled the air, the pipes creaking just a tad at the rare usage. While the water poured down, the brit used the opportunity to pour in some of the bubble bath liquid. William then let the water run for a few minutes more, leaving his fingertips under the water until it warmed up.

"Is this too hot for you, bunny?" He asked. You reached forward past the older man to feel the water.

"Nah, it's good. I like it to be real warm."

"Perfect. Wait here then."

Shaking the water off his hand, William stood up from his kneeling position over to one of the longer, taller cabinets nearby. Reaching inside, he pulled out a few of his favorite soft, lush purplish-grey towels, walking back over and handing one to you.

"Here, love." He said, "So you don't freeze to death before the bath fills up."

You took the towel with a soft thank you as you stood up from your seat on the toilet. You turned away from the brit as you pulled your shirt off over your head, his eyes fixated on your bare back as he unbuttoned his dress shirt. As you slipped off your pants and underwear, William could see the ghosts of former hickeys he had given you past weekends on your shoulders and thighs. You were a good bunny and didn't try and cover them up with any makeup or anything, just like he wanted. The more recent ones were fading, though.

He'd have to fix that soon.

He continued to watch as you kicked all your clothes into a pile by the foot of the bath and wrapped the towel around you. Your nude body no longer available for him to see, he went back to removing his own clothes.

Once they were all off, and neatly folded on the edge of his sink, William wrapped his towel around his lower half and stepped closer to you. You were watching the water fill up and he snaked his long, scarred arms around your middle, pulling you close to his chest. He could feel how you smiled as he pressed his kisses into your hair.

"I love you, bunny." He mumbled against you, feeling your little hands glide over the scars on his forearms as you leaned back against him.

"I love you too, Will." you responded.

He continued his assault of kisses onto your cheek and jaw, "Are you feeling any better, my love?"

"Definitely. I didn't even realize how tired I was."

William let out a hum as his kisses found your neck, "You have been working for almost 12 full hours, bunny."

"Oh my god, really?"

"Mhm."

You let out a groan, "Oh my god, that's so embarrassing. I'm sorry, Will. I didn't even realize. You must've been so bored."

"Don't apologize, little one. I know how much your Uni means to you."

"Yeah, but still... I feel bad. I don't want you to be bored. And we only get to see each other on weekends. It doesn't help I already pissed half of it away."

"It's not your job to entertain me, love. You know just having you here is enough."

"But I don't wanna be just enough. I wanna be like... better. Because you do so much for me. I... I feel like I don't try hard enough sometimes. And I'm sorry."

William let out a sympathetic hum and he lifted your chin up to him, giving your lips a sweet, reassuring peck.

"Everything about you is perfect, bunny. I wouldn't change one thing about you. You try more than you realize."

"How?"

"Well, you did say you were working so late because you wanted to see me in my office, yeah?"

"Yeah..."

"And why is that?"

"Because I know you like it when I do."

William gave you another kiss, "See?"

You smiled at your own silliness, standing on your tip-toes to kiss him one last time, "Fine, fine. You win."

William smiled to match your own, "You worry too much, bunny. I understand what's going on in that pretty head of yours. I love you, and nothing's going to ever change that."

"What if I was ugly?"

"You're not ugly, love."

"But what if I was?"

"I'd still love you."

"What if, like, I only spoke in rhymes or something?"

"It'd be... odd, but I'd still love you."

You giggled, "What if I burned down the diner?"

"Well... you know, I never really liked it much. You'd honestly be doing me a favor, love. So I'd probably love you even more."

"Should I go do it then?"

"Maybe later, bunny. Looks like our bath is full."

Giving you one last kiss on your cheek, William padded over to the running faucet and turned off the valve. In his peripheral, he saw you grab the can of the fake petals and open it up, grabbing a fistful and throwing the small soaps on top of the bubbles. The reddish-pink hue contrasted greatly over the white bubbles and water, making the bath look rather pretty. William was impressed.

William allowed himself to step into the bath first, unwrapping his lower half, folding and placing the towel on the ground nearby. The bubbles dispersing around him, William made sure that water was still a good temperature for you before he sat down in the bath. Once situated, he held out his hand for you.

Placing your soft, small palm in his, you let your towel drop to the floor as you got in the bath yourself. Using his hand as a balance, you sunk your legs in beneath the bubbles as you sat down in the water as well. William spread his bare legs apart beneath the water to make room for you, holding onto your waist and guiding you to lean back against him. You followed his silent order, your bare back against his scarred chest as you rested your head on his strong shoulder. The man pressed a few kisses to your hair as he wrapped his arms around you beneath the water. You relaxed against him easily, and your eyes fluttered shut at the warm feeling around you.

"Is it too hot, bunny?" He asked you, already knowing what you would say, but still wanting to make sure.

"It's perfect, Will." You mumbled, "Thank you."

The brit felt himself smile, "There's no need to thank me, little one. I'm just happy I got you to myself now."

You breathed out a laugh, "Didn't like third-wheeling my textbook, hm?"

"Not at all." He pressed another kiss to your cheek, "You're mine. I should never be the third wheel."

"I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to."

"I know. It's alright. Just relax, bunny."

Leaning down to press more kisses into the back of your neck, William lifted up his wet hands out of the water, making a splash echo through the bathroom. Steadily, he grabbed onto your shoulders and rubbed firm, massaging circles into your back with his thumbs and the heels of his palms. You shut your eyes tighter at the feeling, a few low groans escaping the back of your throat.

"Feel good?" He asked. All you could do was nod as he chuckled, "Good. I'm glad. Your muscles are quite firm, love. You shouldn't be sitting on the floor like that for so long."

"If I got on the couch," you said, "I knew you wouldn't let me get off it again and back to work."

William laughed, "You know me far too well, bunny."

"You're just very predictable sometimes."

"Oh? Am I now?"

You nodded again, "Only sometimes though. Like today when I woke up, I would've never guessed you'd be in here with me right now."

"I can't say I predicted that either, love."

You breathed out a laugh, "If you don't like it, you don't have to stay, Will."

"No, no." William pressed more kisses to the back of your neck, rubbing deeply into your more firm muscles, "I actually think it's rather nice in here."

"Really? Or are you just trying to not make me feel bad?"

"I mean it, love. It's nice. But, perhaps I'm biased. How could I not enjoy being so close to my precious rabbit, hm?"

Your smile grew as you leaned back against his chest again, making his arms return to their home around your waist. You had scooted down so that your head rested more so on his collarbone, allowing you to look up at him more clearly, and him at you.

"Along with predictable," you said, "You're also really cheesy sometimes."

"Oh, you love it though, don't you bunny?"

"I do." You leaned up and gave the brit a kiss on the jaw, "And I love you too. Thank you for everything tonight, Will. I really appreciate it."

The older man felt his heart swell in his chest as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"Anytime, my love. Anytime."

~~~

tags: @guinea-pig16 @the-official-memester @randomwriteralan @mrsrogerwaters @laylaaftonshit @cherry-slushee @insert-memical-username @mrssafton @horrorking2000 @artist-anon08 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @jamiethenerdymonster @kimyona-san @purplewolfcoffee @violetlmfaoo

apologies to any blogs tumblr wont let me tag!! as well as anyone who didn't want to be tagged (pls let me know if you don't want to be tagged in all Willy works :)) )

[headfullof-ideas]

Some headcanons of the Nektons family that I’ve been meaning to finish up, and finally got around to! I posted them to Ao3 as well, if anyone’s there as well. I usually post headcanons of a certain character by themself, but i couldn’t think of enough for a whole set, so there’s some of the whole family here, and some of the characters individually.

- After everything with the Monumentials is dealt with, Ant gets a tuxedo cat he affectionately names Buttons. Buttons is mostly black, with two little white ‘buttons’ and ‘gloves’, and she’s the sweetest cat ever. Ant insists that Buttons formal occupation as an ESA is entirely coincidental

- Kaiko played Dungeons and Dragons a bit as a kid and in college, but never found a group who wanted to play seriously. She still has all her old books, character sheets, and dice in a box in her and Will’s closet

- When Kaiko and Will were introducing each other to their parents, Kaiko’s parents were initially on the fence about Will. Meanwhile, Kathryn and Jacques immediately fell in love with Kaiko

- Kaiko had about a dozen different ‘pets’ growing up, some that were animals that her family were taking care of before they were released back to the wild. She was also the owner of a number of failed fosters

- Ant and Fontaine were both child leash toddlers. Fontaine grew out of needing it, but Ant would find new ways to slip out of his leash without either parent noticing

- Ant keeps forgetting that his name is actually ‘Antaeus’ because of how long he’s been going by ‘Ant’. When he does occasionally remember or get called Antaeus casually, he sits in silence for a few minutes having an existential crisis over it

- Ant and Kaiko both brush off minor illnesses like they’re nothing more than minor inconveniences. They do the same with injuries. When it becomes too much though, they both get super clingy and needy

- Will was an Egyptology kid, with the shiny gold book and all. He was also a magpie as a kid, attracted to all the shiny doo-dads and bobbles he’d find

- Ant wanted to be a Marine Biologist as a kid because of his mom and how much he loved the ocean, but as he got older he started leaning in a different direction with other animals as well. Eventually he landed on being an Animal Behaviorist

- Fontaine does NOT like snakes. At all. They gross her out so much

- Hide and seek is banned on the Aronnax, because the game takes way too long with how many hiding places there are on the submarine. Repeated incidents involving pingers as cheating, with all family members guilty of it, is another reason

- The World Oceans Authorities never stopped trying to rehire Kaiko after she left. When Ant grows up and starts looking for a job, they make it their mission to hire him. Ant makes a point to say no in the most elaborate way possible each time. Pyrosome cries herself to sleep about it sometimes

- After at least half of their late night missions, the family don’t even make it to their own bedrooms to sleep. Crashing in the Moon Pool happens often enough they store blankets and pillows in a closet

- There’s a board of ‘how many missions so and so has gone without needlessly risking their life’ in the lab. Ant has never made it to the double digits. Kaiko and Will are only slightly better. Fontaine is the only one who has made it relatively close to triple digits, and she feels ashamed every time she has to restart her clock

- Kaiko keeps a wall of shame and fame for all the animals she treats as a Marine Biologist, with their crimes listed beneath their photo. If she’s really annoyed with one of her family members, their photo makes it to the wall until they stop annoying her

- Kaiko and Will put child locks on Wills study when Ant and Fontaine were toddlers, and Kaiko has multiple videos of Will struggling to open his own safes and shelves during that time frame. Sometimes if she feels he’s spending too much time in the study, she’ll put them back on

- Ant and Fontaine had bells put on them when they first started being mobile as babies, as both would crawl off when their parents backs were turned for one second, and Kaiko and Will would have to madly dash through the Aronnax, listening for the jingling of a bell to find their baby

- Ant tried out Speech and Debate in high school, and was surprisingly really good at it. Kaiko was really proud

- Fontaine seems to make new friends almost everywhere the family goes, and she’s really good at remembering the names of all the people she meets

- Fontaine is really good at remembering specific dates, and here calendar is packed full of all sorts of important dates and events

[mdhwrites]

How do you feel about Alador (if you haven't already talked about him before)?

Opens mouth

Closes mouth

You know what? I don't think I really have. Not on his own at least. Admittedly, like many parent characters, it's hard to talk about him as just his own character. The other side of that coin though is that unlike other parental characters, it's much less about his kids than it is about his wife. You know, someone else who really isn't much of a character and doesn't work.

Add to this the flip flopping, wishy washy nature of his character and you have someone who is hard to judge as anything but a waste of time. He spends 80% of the series quite literally only backing everything Odalia says. The one time he disagrees is to point out that his wife's goals are being met despite them not being through her own agenda so maybe it's okay to let Amity have this win? That is still serving her interests though and instead just presenting a second view point.

As a character, he is just a feckless father. The most basic stereotype of a dad who works too much, mixed with VERY forced moments of being easily distractable which don't even feel accurate to the one episode they're a part of his character, Escaping Expulsion. Just as Odalia is boring in that she is what you think of for an evil capitalist, Alador is just as basic.

This is also why the only thing people bring up about him is his inconsistency. How the show never shows him as anything other than entirely loyal to Odalia before turning him around 180 degrees and expecting the audience to believe it. There just is little else to talk about. Any wasted potential you want to even claim is mostly within Odalia already, making it feel like Amity could have honestly had just one parent and nothing would have changed besides Amity's motivation for wanting to enter the Bonesborough Brawl. Yes, you could claim the Abomatons too but if you make Odalia the abominations user, that is immediately fixed. Because that is all, story wise, Alador actually contributes.

If there is a writing lesson to be taken from Alador, it's actually WHY parents seem to never be around in shows. It is the importance of understanding what elements are important to your show and necessary. The best example of this is Clouds on the Horizon. Let me explain in the best way I can:

The love interest for the story has just been told they must be without their love. Not only that but that to continue being a part of their family and society, she must stand by cruelty and evil. The one forcing this upon her is her own mother. Everything that has been the push and pull of the character comes down to this. To reject the past, the traditions that cause harm, and embrace an uncertain, beautiful, warm future.

"No but you were very close!"

And in one line, all that weight is lost. It is not Amity overcoming all of this. It is not Amity's morals winning out versus her mother's. It's not even love winning out over hate. No, now it's some asshole who hates his wife enough that he's decided to betray her and fight her. The narrative climax of one of your main characters, one of the ones with the most plot lines related to her and what could have been a powerful climax is instead given to a minor character who has barely had twenty minutes combined in the entire series up until now.

That to me is his greatest sin. How him never existing would have strictly made the show better. Because eventually you need to figure out what your story is about and what is actually needed to tell it instead of providing endless repetitions that only get weaker with each retelling.

And boy, by the time Alador is telling the tale of his redemption. that tape is well worn and never belonged to him in the first place.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[pruneunfair]

My feelings on cry or better yet beg and the utter wasted potential for a psychological tragedy of the imbalance of relationships between noblemen and their mistresses

First off, if I was told I could only kill off one male lead, it'd be him

Lot of people rn especially on tik-tok probably would flame me for this with the "at least he loves Layla! He's so protective of her!"

"it's a dark romance! It won't be sunshine and rainbows you snowflake!"

"He just doesnt know how to express his emotions because he's so sheltered!"

No, just no, I don't care how "hot" he is, I don't care if he's your protective little bad boy. I don't care about his supposed character development, That's a straight up abuser who started off killing birds knowing it would damage to Layla to straight up assaulting her. (I don't know if that will stay in the webtoon, but it was in the novel) no character development can make me like a fucking rapist

Like how in the hell is Claudine considered worse than Mathhias, sure she isn't so peachy herself but goddammit to think of the fiance who if anything would be supported had she been the main protagonist, yes she's pretty demeaning, a bit shallow, and only views Matthias as the perfect Duke, but at least she's not going around mentally torturing a boy who can't do anything against her. I haven't gotten to her ending yet but from what I hear, it isn't a good one. She such a wasted opportunity since she is such a perfect example of a woman prepped and groomed to just be a Dukes wife would come out feeling that her worth only comes her husband.

Justice for Claudine, I just know there's a fanfic out there where you get with Riette, grow as your own person, and live a pleasant life.

You wanna know what really hurts me about this manhwa though? The fact that's it's so unintentionally accurate to how horrible it truly is to be a mistress in an era where women, especially women with no royal titles or status, were often treated by rich and powerful men. They would mostly have no right to say no to a man who decides he wants her, Layla romanticizing her abuse is not just heartbreaking but also unfortunately realistic as it's a coping mechanism for those who had endured nothing but abuse their whole life so they tend to shove their feelings in a box and pretend everything is okay (obviously this isn't the same for all victims of abuse, it's one of the many coping mechanisms people could develop)

In a lot of historical manhwa, there's usually the obligatory mistress character designed to be a dumb trashy bimbo to uplift the lead. Most of the time, the mistress in question is either a daughter of minor nobility that was chosen by a Emperor, crown prince, or Duke, or the mistress lived her life as a poor farm girl and in some situations lived a life where no one cared about her and was likely abused, the latter is often rare for these mistress characters since authors of those stories only want you sympathizing with the leads but in rare cases, the mistress did have a hard life but it ends up being undermined to further damage the mistress as torture/revenge porn or in Laylas case: used as an explanation to give a disturbing reason to why she ends up falling in love with Matthias which wouldn't be wrong if the story was written in a way that was a tragic one, not a romantic one.

you would think this kind of glamorouzation of abuse would only exist in the authors mindset and the degeneracy that is a junior high girls mind, but no, the ides that Layla is somehow the one in the wrong for her own abuse and reluctance of Matthias and there is even an Instagram post claiming she has BPD for being too "difficult" they sound like those 1950s doctors that find any reason to lobotomize a patient.

Laylas character does open the truths of what it's truly like to be practically owned by a nobleman, she's not like Rashta or Aisha from divorcing my tyrant husband where she's portrayed as a silly and cute strumpet with ulterior motives, she is genuinely upset but she can't do anything about it so all she can do is convince herself that Matthias loves her so she can keep her sanity, but where it goes wrong is that instead of portraying this as an unhealthy yet sole coping mechanism for an abusive relationship, the story just chalks it down to "silly Layla! You'll see that he's just misunderstood and you really do love him deep down!" Its frankly atrocious that the one time a story has a realistic pair of the typical women in this trope, the first wife who is classy and refined and the mistress who is young and free spirited ends ultimately destroyed yet again with a case black and white writting. One woman must be good and the other woman must be bad.

Frankly these characters are well written for the most part and until I realized I supposed to see Matthias as the love interest and not Kyle, I was fine with who Matthias was since he was presented more so as a villain, the art is also one of the prettiest cottagecore artstyles I've ever seen to the point where the 3D models look really good since it blends in perfectly, it's just sad that cry or better yet beg is a sick twisted tale equivalent to the average Colleen Hoover book.

[phantomannkaun]

Demon Slayer Male Characters Smut Headcanons ~ Fem Reader

18+ only please! Minors don't interact!

All the characters in this are aged up!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

𝙏𝙖𝙣𝙟𝙞𝙧𝙤 𝙆𝙖𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙤

Tanjiro would definitely be a switch. He would prefer being a top but he also doesn't mind being on the bottom.

His favorite position would be missionary. He likes to see your face during it. He also believes its way more romantic that way.

He doesn't care but he's an all around bo/bs guy.

His favorite place to do it is just in the bed and he likes to grab the headboard a lot whether he's a top of bottom.

He's really into praising whether it's him praising you or you praising him.

He's more vanilla than everything but he's also a experimentalist in the way that he would try anything once to see if he liked it or not.

He will always do whatever makes you the most comfortable. If you want him to wear a c/ndom he will, if you want him to pull out he will.

He likes to go slow more than he does fast but it depends on the day for him lol.

Consent is also key to Tanjiro. He will never not ask for consent.

Aftercare is also very important to him. As soon as you guys are done he will immediately grab you a towel or anything you might need. After he gets you anything you need, he'll take a shower. He'll ask for you to join too! He also will wash the sheets.

After he's done doing aftercare, he will cuddle with you for as long as you need it and always ask if you were comfortable with everything you just did. he would give you so many compliments about your body and everything.

He also loves loves loves making out.

Tanjiro's size is probably 6inch (15.24cm) and its got the right amount of g/rth.

𝙕𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙨𝙪 𝘼𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙖

Zenitsu would think he's a top but really he's more of a bottom. He's only a top when he's "asleep". 🫢

His favorite position is when you're on his lap sitting down facing him. But he doesn't mind cowgirl.

His favorite place to do it is on the bed because it's most comfortable.

He likes to say stuff like "good job" or "just like that" or "good girl" he likes to let you know that you're doing well.

He usually goes really fast but that's only when he's asleep. When he's not he lets you take full control which is any speed you want.

He'll do anything to make you feel good no matter what it is his main goal is that you're enjoying it.

He doesn't mind at all if you leave scratches or hickeys or any marks like that. he'll wear them proud.

Before aftercare, he'll ask you to cuddle or give you tons of kisses and hugs.

His love language is affection.

If you guys aren't f/cking he really likes giving you head. He's a big thigh guy. He likes being squished in between them and how soft they are.

Zenitsu's size is probably 7inch (17.78cm) with medium g/rth but it's mostly just long.

𝙄𝙣𝙤𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙚 𝙃𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙖

Inosuke is never a bottom. He is always the top.

He only sees himself as dominant. He loves seeing you on the bottom too. The only time he'd let you be top is if you're r/ding him but even then he'd take control.

Insouke likes it rough. As fast and as hard as possible usually. He likes the feeling of sweating and going hard.

His favorite position is doggy because it's the easiest for him to go fast. He's also an ass guy so he likes seeing that from behind.

He also likes missionary because that's when he can grab the headboard and he likes when he gets scratched or pulled or anything with pain. He thinks the pain is good.

He likes knowing he's "better" than you. He wants to be praised and feel like he's a god. He also likes to degrade you to make himself feel superior.

He doesn't care where you guys do it. You could be in the middle of the forest on a mountain and he'll think its a good time to do it.

He doesn't really like to wear c/ndoms because they're uncomfortable so he buys birth control for you. He would never make you buy that yourself.

He doesn't mind using ropes although he'd rather use his hands to restrain you.

He kind of sucks at aftercare he usually just lets you do it yourself. Right after you guys are done the first thing he wants to do is eat food or sleep.

If you're not doing it, he likes when you give him top.

Inosuke's size is probably 5.5-6inch (13.97-15.24cm) but with really good g/rth.

𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙮𝙖 𝙎𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙯𝙪𝙜𝙖𝙬𝙖

Genya is a switch but he sees himself more as a bottom. He doesn't mind if you want him to be a top but he prefers bottom.

His favorite position would be reverse cowgirl. He's def an ass guy. He loves your ass.

His favorite place to do it is on the couch. He would rather "dirty" the couch than the bed.

Depends on the mood but he likes to call you 'mommy' and praise you. He also likes begging to you.

He loves receiving hickies as well. He doesn't mind giving them either.

He loves to grab your waist when you ride him as well. He likes to dig his nails into it when you do it.

When he's a top, he likes to be on top of you to see your face.

Communication and consent are some top things for him as well.

He doesn't mind using protection at all its all up to you but if you don't want one he prefers birth control.

Before aftercare he typically likes when you lay on his chest and take a nap under a blanket.

After that though he wants to stay clean so he takes a shower. He'll offer for you to join him.

He'll usually make you tea afterwards too.

Genya's size is 6.5inch (16.51cm) with a lot of v/ins.

𝙂𝙮𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙞 𝙃𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙟𝙞𝙢𝙖

Gyomei is a top. He prefers being dominant however he's willing to experiment with being a bottom if you are.

Everything is does is super super romantic and intimate.

He likes missionary mostly. He likes to pin you down as well.

Gyomei likes to go slow but hard. You better pray for your legs after this 😭

He likes to use his strength to his advantage. He uses it to restrain you as much as possible.

Before anything he asks you for consent and asks if its okay that he does certain things.

His favorite place to it is basic but the bedroom. He likes to be covered in blankets to have it be more intimate as well.

He likes candles burning in the background and the typical rose petals in the room.

He likes to tell you how beautiful you are and he loves to hear you. He doesn't care how loud you are he just wants you to enjoy yourself.

His whole goal in the end is to finish you. He doesn't even care if he doesn't, he'd rather you than him.

He's a bo/bs guy for sure for sure.

Aftercare is essential. He'll clean everything up for you and not expect anything from you.

He'll get a bath ready for you as well.

Oh boy. Gyomei's size has to be 9inch (22.86cm) and has insane g/rth. Praying for you besties!

𝙎𝙖𝙣𝙚𝙢𝙞 𝙎𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙯𝙪𝙜𝙖𝙬𝙖

Sanemi is a top. He can't be anything else. He only wants to be a top and feel the power.

He likes hitting it from the back and grabbing your hips as hard as possible.

He likes it hard well and he has a good flow with it.

He's for sure an ass guy too.

He'll do it anywhere around the house but he likes it in the kitchen a lot.

He'll degrade you and make you beg as well. He likes making you feel powerless.

He also has a 'daddy' kink. He thinks that's one of the most hottest things.

He's kind of a sadist as well. He wants you to feel sexual pain and pleasure. Even with pain however he'll make sure you're okay afterwards.

Sanemi will pull your hair and leave hickies everywhere. He wants people to know that you're his and nobody else's.

He loves making out with you in a messy way as well and he loves to feel you up while doing it.

As for aftercare, he likes to just do his own thing to clean himself up before he gets to you. He'll throw you a towel though to help.

Sanemi's size is 7.5inch (19.05cm) and it has a nice curve and a lot of v/ins.

𝙂𝙞𝙮𝙪𝙪 𝙏𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙤𝙠𝙖

Giyuu is a switch. He doesn't prefer one or the other.

His favorite position is you on top of him in any way.

He wants to be praised by you as well and he has a little thing for saying 'mommy.'

He loves looking at you and admiring your body and realizing how beautiful you are.

He tries not to be vocal but he ends up being pretty vocal.

He likes foreplay a lot as well too. H/ndjobs are his favorite though.

He has a thing for ropes too whether its him being tied up or you.

On the days he feels dominant, he'll give you the best night of your life.

When he's a top he'll whisper things under his breath like "fuck" or "just like that" "don't stop". He likes calling you 'babe' or 'honey' too.

He likes to use his tongue a lot too and he fancies neck kisses a lot.

Sometimes after a hard day one of the only things he wants is to f/ck you so he goes crazy with it.

He's a thigh guy above all. He loves inner thigh hickies.

Giyuu cares a lot about your well being after s/x so he'll usually make sure you're mentally good first.

He'll hug and kiss you and cuddle with you and let you fall asleep on him.

Giyuu's size is 6.5inch (16.51cm) with a normal amount of g/rth and a nice curve.

𝙏𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙣 𝙐𝙯𝙪𝙞

Tengen is a top but he's the kind of top that likes his girls to do all of the work for him.

He likes getting rode as he grabs your waist.

He loves to praise you and slap your ass.

He's an everything type of guy he can't just choose b/obs, ass or thighs if he likes it all.

Of course this man has a daddy kink how could he not.

He loves to call you pet names too like 'princess', 'darling', 'babe' and 'love'.

When he does you he likes to act like it doesn't faze him but he constantly reminds you 'you feel so good baby', 'keep going' and just stuff along the lines of that.

He'll grab you in many different ways and pull your hair.

He would wanna go multiple different rounds and try something new each time.

He would be into a thr/esome or jus doing it with more than one person in general.

Above all he wants both of you to have an unforgettable night. He wants both parties to finish and be absolutely exhausted afterwards.

He'll invite to a bath for aftercare which would probably turn into a different round.

Tengen's is 8.5inch (21.59cm) and its got a nice length for it's g/rth with v/ins. It's always cleanly shaved as well.

𝙆𝙮𝙤𝙟𝙪𝙧𝙤 𝙍𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙤𝙠𝙪

Oh my lord. Kyojuro would destroy you.

He's a switch but has a preference for being a top but from time to time he doesn't mind you taking control.

His favorite position is prone boning and doggy because it makes it easy for him to do whatever he wants.

He likes to do it outside or by the fire or maybe even in a hot spring/hot tub.

Consent is the first thing he'll ask before anything.

Kyojuro is a b/ob guy but thighs are second for him.

His stamina and endurance is crazy too. He can last for a very very long time.

He likes to tell you how good you're doing as well. "good job" "just like that" "keep going".

You knew this was coming. Mans got a thing for choking you out. He likes to hear your soft moans during it.

If you're giving him top he also has a thing for playing with your hair and making you look at him.

He's not very into bdsm much however. He just prefers no physical items just his body.

Because he can last so long, he wants to make sure you finish no matter what.

For after care the first thing he wants to do is take a hot bath and go to sleep after.

He'll want to show you so much love afterwards and make sure you're okay and make sure you have a good time.

Oh my lord this guy will absolutely obliterate your back.

Kyojuro's size is 8inch (20.32cm) It's got big g/rth and a lot of v/ins.

𝙈𝙪𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙤 𝙏𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙩𝙤

Muichiro is a bottom but he can do top at times.

He's into foreplay mostly him receiving top.

His favorite position is anything with you on top of him.

He's def a bo/b guy. He likes the squish and softness of them and he likes to lay on them and play with them. He also has a thing for s/cking on them.

He doesn't have a particular place to do it he just likes to do it.

He wants you to completely take control and "use him" as you wish. He likes the feeling of feeling dominated by you.

He's usually vocal when doing anything not on purpose it just comes out usually.

He has a thing for lingerie as well. Or just skimpy bikinis'.

He also lowkey has a thing for being edged.

When he is on top however he's pretty controlling and rather than vocal he's more focused and silent.

For aftercare he'll clean himself before anything else and then help you.

He also loves attention afterwards. Lots of hugs and cuddles ^.^

He'll ask you a bunch of questions on if he should do anything differently, or making sure you enjoyed yourself or just asking if you need reassurance.

Muichiro's size is 6inch (15.24cm)

𝙊𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙞 𝙄𝙜𝙪𝙧𝙤

Obanai loves having s/x. It's one of his favorite things he loves how intimate it is.

He's a top no doubt about it. He has no desire to be a bottom. Control is his thing.

He loves doggy.

He's got a thing for thighs especially inner thigh hickies.

He loves biting you and leaving marks on you so people know that you belong to him.

He likes to slap your ass too and degrade you when you're doing it.

He likes to call you things like 'wh/re' 'sl/t' and stuff along those lines.

He likes to do wherever, he doesn't care.

The main thing for him is he just wants everybody to know you're his.

He likes to edge you as well and tease you a lot. It's amusing to him and fun. He loves to have control in the bedroom.

He likes to switch speed on you and go at his own pace.

He likes to p/ll o/t and finish on your back too.

He likes to use tongue a lot too.

For aftercare he kind of just leaves you to do your own thing and him to do his own thing but after you two clean he wants to give you attention and cuddles.

Obanai's size is 6.5-7inch (16.51-17.78cm) and it's got a really nice curve to it.

𝙎𝙖𝙗𝙞𝙩𝙤

Sabito is a switch but mostly a top although he doesn't particularly have a preference.

Sabito's main priority is that you're comfortably and having a good time.

His favorite position is basic. He likes missionary the most but he also enjoys spooning.

Like his position, his favorite place to do it is basic, the bedroom.

He likes to know that you're enjoying yourself so he'll ask things like "do you like that?" "tell me that you like that" and things like that.

He wants you to be as vocal as possible no matter how loud.

He wants to hold your wrists down on the bed or have you pinned. Anything that'll restrain you is fine for him.

He doesn't exactly have a preference but if he had to choose it would be thighs.

He likes to experiment with things no matter if he likes it or not he'll try anything once.

After you two are done, he doesn't even think of himself first, he'll rush and help clean you first and then himself.

He'll get you tea or food or anything you want and he'll def wanna cuddle right after.

Sabito's size is 6inch (15.24cm) and it's got some g/rth and a curve.

𝙈𝙪𝙯𝙖𝙣 𝙆𝙞𝙗𝙪𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙟𝙞

First of all, Muzan's stamina and endurance is like no other. He can last forever. I mean forever.

He likes any position in any way.

He's a top no doubt he loves control. He wants you to be his forever.

He'll rail you over and over and over again until your legs shake.

Muzan's main thing is ropes. He loves doing shibari ties for ropes. He also likes just anything that will restrain you to your comfort.

He likes pet names and asking if you like it.

He likes going hard and fast and just doing his own thing. He also thinks it's fun to slap your ass.

He's preference is ass as well.

He likes to thr/st into you really hard and hear you scre/m his name.

He can go multiple rounds.

He'll bite you and give you hickies and whisper in your ear.

He'll do it anywhere he enjoys the risk of it. But he mostly likes doing it in his castle.

As for aftercare he just likes to tell you "good job" and stuff like that. He'll call you his 'queen' or 'princess' or even 'goddess'.

He wants to fall asleep next to you as well, with you laying on his chest comfortably.

Muzan's size is probably 7-8inch (17.78-20.32cm) with really nice v/ins and shape.

𝘼𝙠𝙖𝙯𝙖

Akaza is a switch with no preference on which.

He really likes when you're on his lap sitting up. He loves to make out with you while doing it as well.

He has a thing for ass for sure for sure. He likes to make it clap.

He also likes s/cking on b/obs though.

Hickies are a big thing for him too though. He likes giving you either tons of small ones and few big ones.

He likes to str/p you himself and he likes to tease you with it.

He likes pulling your hair or grabbing your waist and pushing you down into it.

If you're giving him top he likes to push your head as well.

Surprisingly he likes doing it slow and sensual and intimate but of course he doesn't mind going at it.

He wants you to look as him the whole time. Eye contact his key for him.

He likes to degrade and praise you. Both work for him.

One night he can be vanilla and the next he can be totally bdsm the next. He switches up a lot.

Aftercare for him is him watching you clean him up. He thinks it's totally hot. He'll of course do the same for you as well.

Akaza's size is 7.5inch (19.05cm) with a lot of g/rth and v/ins.

𝘿𝙤𝙪𝙢𝙖

Douma is just a f/cking animal, literally and figuratively.

He's no doubt a top but occasionally he'll let you be top when he feels like it.

He wants all control in everything and he wants you to do as he asks. And he especially likes getting called 'master' or 'daddy'.

He'll call you stuff like 'doll' or 'babe' 'bunny' or 'princess'.

He likes every and any position he can do it in.

He likes every part of you so he doesn't have a b/ob, ass or thigh preference.

He wants you to be loud and scratch him as much as needed as well.

He'll f/ck you senselessly but he would also do it slowly. He does it in any way shape and form.

It's almost like he wants you to be his slave.

He loves using ropes and anything he can to restrain you.

He also loves it if you r/de him and he'll take control and even then.

This man quite literally likes to do everything.

For aftercare, he'll try and help clean but he mostly focuses on himself. He likes to see you clean him for him though.

Douma's size is 8inch (20.32cm) and it's pretty long and smooth.

𝙂𝙮𝙪𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙤

Gyutaro is a switch with no preference.

He like's doing it standing or against the wall or him sitting down and you on him.

Gyutaro is into pain. Anything involving pain, he'll like it.

He likes anything fast paced and hard.

He loves loves loves to praise you and tell you how good you're going.

He's pretty into edging for both parties and he also enjoys a bit of foreplay.

He also likes if you're on top of him, he likes feeling your body against his.

He's a boob guy and he doesn't care if they're big or small he loves them.

He likes grabbing your waist and just grabbing you in general it turns him on so much.

Aftercare is kind of an issue for him though. He's not very good at it so you mostly do all the work.

He does value cuddling after s/x though.

He'll kiss you and tell you how good you did.

Gyutaro's size is 6inch (15.24cm) and its smooth with a curve.

𝙆𝙤𝙠𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙗𝙤

Kokushibo likes to be on the top at all times he just prefers it.

He likes doing in the bath but he doesn't mind the place.

He likes pinning you down though.

He doesn't have an ass, b/ob or thigh preference he likes all of it no matter the size.

He likes being slow and sensual but other times he likes fast and hard.

He likes it to be romantic surprisingly. He wants both parties to feel as good as you guys possibly can be.

He's not too big on foreplay he just wants to get straight to the point mostly.

He likes hearing you beg for it as well.

He's pretty into teasing you and playing around with you during it.

He likes to act like he isn't fazed at all while you can't stop mo/ning and squirming.

He has a pretty good endurance and usually can go 4-5 rounds.

He won't say much during it but he'll whisper stuff like "good girl" occasionally.

He likes to finish inside you or p/ll o/t and make you sw/llow it.

For aftercare, it's straight in the shower for him.

Afterwards he usually shows you love. He care about being clean though.

Kokushibo's size is probably 7-7.5inch (17.78-19.05cm) and it's soft with a nice curve and equal g/rth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you guys for reading xoxo!

If you have an critiques please lmk!!

If you guys have any cool future post ideas lmk as well!

[makuzume]

⚠️Content warning: implied SH⚠️

Genshin Men Walking in on their s/o doing SH and Comforting/Patching Them Up

Content: Implied that reader self harmed, no graphic descriptions, focused mostly on comfort from the character. (Terms mentioned: stains, scar, wound, blade)

Characters: Tighnari, Baizhu, Alhaitam, Cyno

[Note: Requested by @maraestar but I couldn't put the request box in]

Tighnari

He enters the room with a bit of a surprised, unexpected expression. It takes him a moment to process the scene he walked into.

Tighnari exhales softly, a small pout visible on his lips with his brows slightly furrowed out of concern, looking at his lover.

He began to ponder for a moment, thinking about the most appropriate approach to the situation at hand.

After a while, he relaxes, a little more calm now as he approached you, gently taking away the very thing that had harmed you from your hands.

He sat next to you without saying anything. He grabbed the tissues from his pocket to gently dab on the stains that were around your scars, his eyes observing them in silence. Despite this, the atmosphere wasn't tense at all, to your surpise.

Tighnari didn't want to make you feel any shame for being caught in the act, he made sure of it. He knew that there already must've been a lot on your mind right now, he wouldn't want to be another contributer to the negative emotions you're experiencing. He realized the best way to approach this is with gentle care.

As he finishes wrapping a few bandages around you, he looks at you softly, sighing.

"I know there must've been a lot on your mind again.

I'm sorry if I hadn't notice the signs that you've been feeling unwell. It's okay, I'm here now. You can talk to me.

You know, I'd rather you vent out your feelings to me than taking it out on yourself, so tell me next time, alright?."

Baizhu

Baizhu heads towards your room, hoping to share a funny story that he had just learned from one of his customers, completely unaware of the current situation you were going through that very moment.

He decided to go straight to your door, not even thinking about knocking before entering.

"Dear, you would not be able to guess what just happened. The merchant from yesterday told m-"

He immediately stopped in his tracks, his words suddenly getting caught in his throat as he scanned you, noticing your expression immediately.

A few tear stains fell from your cheeks with a shocked expression evident, perhaps because of his sudden entrance. Next, his gaze focused on where your hands had placed themselves- there, he saw a fresh wound, a wound which had been inflicted by none other than his own beloved.

Baizhu was honestly shocked as well, perhaps even more shocked than you, unexpecting to see you have such injuries.

He is a doctor afterall, a very good one, and he always treated many of his patients' injuries from accidents and attacks. He also often treated many of your minor injuries from small accidents too, but he had not expected to see the day where he would be treating your wound which had been inflicted intentionally by you.

He sighed, giving a concerned look through his worried eyes and small smile. "Good heavens.." Softly, he spoke, trying to remain firm in hopes to appear more reliable, like the strong and steady rock you needed to cry on right now- hiding the fact that he, himself, is immensely worried.

Baizhu attempted to hide these feelings behind his usual expression, behind that mysterious, delighted facade he often showed; it was harder for him to pretend that he wasn't sickly worried right now.

He exhaled deeply and sat next to you, observing the scars on your body. Baizhu attempted to appear calm by smiling but his eyes were furrowed, sad to see you go through such pain to have even taken it out on yourself.

Even if he's a doctor that treated wounds, he still wished that he could have somehow prevented yours from ever occuring. A small form of guilt formed within him, regret in a sense.

Baizhu softly, but worriedly, looks into your eyes with a reassuring smile.

"My sweet beloved, what's the matter? Have the thoughts clouded your mind again..?

Come now, let me treat your scars. I'll make you your favorite drink for you to calm down as well."

His tone was slightly uncertain and panicked, but just a little.

Once he finished patching up your wound, he softly places a hand on your cheek, seeming to have composed himself a little more.

"I'm not mad at you, my dear. I understand there must've been something bothering you. Tell me, won't you...?

Regardless on what it's about, you know I will always listen to your troubles.."

Alhaitam

He walks in, a bit of a shocked expression visible on his face. It honestly caught him off guard, and it was rare to see him with such reactions.

He said nothing, which worried you quite a bit on what Alhaitam thought about the situation he walked into- what he thought about you.

You hear him sigh deeply while his eyes were closed as he took a moment to think, perhaps a little frustrated at the situation.

Once he opened his eyes, he was more composed and walked towards you, his gaze fixated on yours.

Alhaitam crouched down to your level. He immediately, but gently, pushed your hands away from your body, disregarding to acknowledge the blade you held. To your surprise, he hugged you tightly, a strong sense of comfort suddenly overwhelming you. A hand gently, but firmly, was placed behind your head while the other embraced you, pulling you closer as he shared his own warmth with you. At this moment, his actions spoke louder than anything else.

It was quiet for some time but it never felt intimidating, the silence was rather comforting.

After being together with Alhaitam for some time, he would already have a good grasp in understanding you. So even if he never comforted anyone before, he knew what you needed. And right now, he knew that you needed to feel his presence.

He spoke seriously, with a hint of a gentle, and even irritated, tone to his words.

"If you want to tell me what's on your mind, just tell me, I'll listen.

But if not, that's fine too. We can stay like this for a little while longer."

Cyno

Cyno enters the room, intantly noticing the few stains of red on your body.

Instictively, his first reaction was assuming that you had been attacked, immediately turning into protective mode.

"What happened?? Who hurt you?? Where are you hurt???" He asked with a serious and urgent tone, firmly holding the weapon in his hand, ready to attack whoever even dared to have laid their hands on you.

Cyno eventually realized what really happened once he took a closer look at the scene. Your eyes fell to the floor, embarassed to meet with his gaze, but he was able to catch a glimpse of your puffy, red eyes and wet cheeks.

He notieced how you slowly hid your hand that had been holding the blade. With the silence you gave and these small details, Cyno was able to piece together the events that had just taken place and finally loosened the grip on his spear.

"Oh... so, it was..." His voice softened, concerned and careful was his tone, unable to think of a proper response.

You were silent, avoiding his gaze. He honsestly didn't know what to say or do, thus, he took a moment to collect ideas on how to handle this situation. Afterall, it was beating up bad guys and playing TCG that he was an expert on, not sensitive moments like this.

Regardless, he wanted to make sure he approached this the right way.

He slowly took off his head piece and carefully leaned his weapon against the wall, his eyes looking at the ground, also avoiding your gaze, but glancing at you every now and then as he was thinking of what to say.

Carefully, Cyno sat down next to you. It was quiet for a moment and you could feel his eyes watching you.

"... give it here. I'll clean the wound for you" His tone was serious, but at the same time, gentle. You look up at him to see him staring at you with his full attention. Eventually, you let him clean you up, and he did so, silently.

After he finished patching you up, he stared at the area of your scars for a moment before he, ever so gently, placed a very soft kiss above the bandages while his fingers lightly caress the area around it.

His eyes stared at your wound once more before looking up to face you. Cyno spoke in his deep, but gentle, voice "look at me..." was all he said. He patiently waited you to face him on your own time.

"I don't know what's been on your mind to do this, ...but I don't like seeing you get hurt because of it."

Cyno brought your hands close to his chest.

"Share me your burden, I am here for you. If comfort is what you need, I am always willing to give you just that. So please... (y/n), tell me what's wrong. I'm here to listen. You know that."

Check out my other works [My Masterlist]

[omaano]

more rambly thoughts about weapons (this is turning out to be a long one): -the darksaber is a weapon (sword), the beskar spear is a weapon (spear) -perhaps omega lends you her bow (bow), because hades itself definitely differentiates between a gun and a bow (adamant rail/vs coronacht). alternatively (sorry for bad batch-ifying your hades au it will likely happen again), crosshair's sniper rifle. -anyway, the rail would likely be a blaster of some sort, a dc-17 maybe? as a reference to the clones? (gun) -that leaves the shield and fists, then, which--- what the heck man, why is this so hard to pull from star wars lore. uh. who's big on martial arts? the jedi, i would imagine, so maybe the fists are… hm. nothing is coming to mind re: the jedi. what IS coming to mind is two things: darth vader's gloves of force choking (idk man), and mandalorian gauntlets/vambraces (din's whistling birds?). so one of those two, maybe? (fists). WAIT. i had a thought. it is bad batch associated but you can kill me for it later. WRECKER'S GLOVES!! there we go. -shield is a bit harder--- i'm considering leaning mando for that because they're big on armour, uhhhh….. the only shields that are coming to mind aren't even mando, they're the goddamn plasma shields used in TBOBF against boba and fennec. hold up let me go reference a fic--- okay wookieepedia is giving me silandra's shield, a legendary plasma shield used during the high republic era, or a simple light-shield, used by jedi younglings in training but able to deflect lightsabers and blasterbolts. okay i am thinking light shield with an aspect of silandra! (shield)

I've been promising this answer for well over a month please forgive me for taking so long! I sadly didn't have as much time as I would have liked to spend on the Hades AU in August ^^; Thank you so much @elwinged for sharing these super insightful thoughts as well, they were amazing to read and re-read! <3

Hades AU WEAPONS - and ASPECTS

First things first, I'll admit that I haven't thought about much of these on my own, so I'm just very thrilled and excited to dig into what you'd sent me! *A* (I'm combing the weapons and aspects together, hopefully in a coherent and somewhat structured manner)

SWORD

The darksaber is a weapon

Aspects: "darksaber probably turns into several different lightsabers: obi-wan's, anakin's/vader's, luke's? maybe ahsoka?"

This is the one thing were I won't have many thoughts to add, except that this would need some workshoping (mostly because I cannot think of any sword variants that's not "just" a vibrosword (Din would probably love to change the Darksaber to something less cursed XD) - but also wouldn't it be real funny if the Darksaber was just the Darksaber? No aspects, Din got it, Din is stuck with it in that one single form, there is nothing he can do about it.

I love all your suggestions, but I think I will just stick with this one because it's too hilarious to me. The Darksaber is the Darksaber, no two ways about it, sorry Din, you're stuck with it.

SPEAR

The beskar spear is a weapon

Aspects: "beskar spear becomes maul's double-bladed saber, savage opress' spear and perhaps venestra rwoh's lightwhip?"

I really like the idea of Savage's spear, but (after some minor googling) I like the Mon Calamari blaster spear (it's not very practical on land, but... we need some variety. Plus you get access to aspects through character interaction in Hades, right? Like another character gets reminded of that aspect and such... I guess Kit could be a lead in for this one, as Maul would be with Savage's spear).

(As a tangent I've also found the Lasan bo-rifle, but goddamnit I've kept most of the Rebels influence out of this AU too, so that only gets an honorable mention here.)

There are also electrostaffs that Zygerians used, that's one sided/ended (and Rex must be (unfortunately) very familiar with them since he used one to impale that slaver at the end of the Zygerrian arc)... I'm not a 100% set on this, but the other alternative I can think about is a shock trooper's electro-staff...

Venestra's lightwhip is more of a lightsaber, I guess? (I haven't yet watched the last two episodes of The Acolyte so don't at me here) so that doesn't really track here imo.

BOW

"perhaps omega lends you her bow, because hades itself definitely differentiates between a gun and a bow (adamant rail/vs coronacht). alternatively (sorry for bad batch-ifying your hades au it will likely happen again), crosshair's sniper rifle."

I think in this case it might be better to indeed keep the differentiation between bow and blaster (even if it will probably be a lot more difficult to collect enough aspects for a bow), and so let's not bad batchify the bow just yet XD (I've been fighting very hard NOT to allow the Bad Batch into this AU, only Omega and Echo got a pass from that ban)

Aspects: "bow maybe has an aspect of crosshair (sniper rifle), chewbacca's bow-caster, and… a nightsister bow? maybe swap omega and nightsister around and have the more basic version be the base weapon"

Yes to all of those and...I'm really feeling our limitations here for a 4th option because all i found was the Ewok's bow and arrow. So how about we downgrade a little to the energy slingshot that Ezra has in the beginning of Rebels?

RAIL

"anyway, the rail would likely be a blaster of some sort, a dc-17 maybe? as a reference to the clones? (gun)"

I suppose it is a better question if this is a handblaster or more of a sniper rifle. I don't know the rail all that much because for the life of me I cannot make it work (I don't remember how I managed to make a single successful run with it in the first place... so I don't remember how it works in-game) since Din has a variation of those on his person at all times. So the "rail" either stands in for the Amban Rifle, or the handblaster at his hip.

(I'll veto the DC-17 since that was nominated as Rex's keepsake, so let's not confuse those two, yeah?)

Aspects: "rail has an aspect of padme (she's my GIRL), ezra's bow-lightsaber monstrosity, and perhaps leia's blaster? feel like that's quite similar to padme's though… we'll workshop it"

I was thinking that Crosshair's rifle would fit better here (both Omega and Fennec can hint at access to that?), Ezra's lightsaber-blaster combination is a genius thing, no badmouthing that horrible creation, I love that! :D and sure, I guess Padme's little screwdriver looking blaster pistol can also be an aspect?

FISTS

"[...]what IS coming to mind is two things: darth vader's gloves of force choking (idk man), and mandalorian gauntlets/vambraces (din's whistling birds?). so one of those two, maybe? (fists). WAIT. i had a thought. it is bad batch associated but you can kill me for it later. WRECKER'S GLOVES!! there we go."

Aspects: "fists.. .maybe they start out as din's whistling birds, then aspect of wrecker, vader and…. boba (flamethrower)? i also just read about mandalorian crushgaunts (beskar reinforced gloves) which could also be the base, and swap out whistling birds for boba?"

The basic weapon can be a Mandalorian gauntlet (but the whistling birds I was planning to keep for the Cast attack, since it's with Din at all times, and so are his vambraces. I couldn't think of any other long-range weapon on his person that wouldn't become a changable thing with all these other weapons. Plus there is also a limit to how many times and how fast you can fire those, so I think that tracks alright) But I can get behind the others... I don't remember what's up with Wrecker's gloves, but I do seem to remember Black Krrssantan (sorry for any spelling mistakes) having his electric knuckle dusters that can also pack a punch.

SHIELD

"shield is a bit harder [...] the only shields that are coming to mind aren't even mando, they're the goddamn plasma shields used in TBOBF against boba and fennec. [...] or a simple light-shield, used by jedi younglings in training but able to deflect lightsabers and blasterbolts."

Aspects : "shield-- aspect of silandra (a legendary plasma shield used during the high republic era), uhhhhh OOH obi wan's saber because soresu, and. uh. enfys nest's gauntlets? they're technically gauntlets, as titled, so they could be slotted in as an aspect of fists, but they fan out to be mini shields, so…."

Mandalorians can have a small shield of their own (as seen on Paz and Bo-Katan both), so that's good for base, with and aspect of Silandra, and Enfys Nest (that's made of beskar plates too, isn't it?)... and like what could be the last one. The idea of Soresu is absolutely hilarious (mostly because Din would be so bad at it ,so it would also track as a legendary aspect, considering how those are supposed to be more tricky to use?) but also like. What if it's just Din's beskar armor turned up to 11? XD I really have nothing better here ^^;