#they/them i will literally never get anything else (nobody uses anything other than they/[insert] for me irl

[sugarysakurakitty]

happy that!!! your back on tumblr i hope it goes better this time!!!! and it feels less direct to send asks wotch helps me say stuff so yayayyayayyay talking :DDDDD rven though am trying to get better at stuff like discord want to ask!!!! i keep calling doll my wife do you want to be called something like that to??

Happy to be back!! <33

I would be happy to be, if you want to! This has accidentally gotten me thinking about pronouns and gendered terms and stuff and now I'm realizing a bunch of stuff I never realized so uh?? Oops? This may take a bit to figure out. Until I actually figure that out you can call me anything youd like!! <333

[wintrwinchestr]

obedience | part 2

summary: a week ago, you and joel had experimented with a new kink, and it’s been on your mind ever since. you had been too shy to ask to try it out again, but joel always knows exactly what you need.

warnings: 18+, smut, daddy kink, pet play (egregious use of “puppy”, joel teaches you dog commands and refers to your hand as your paw, among other things), d/s and ddlg relationship dynamics, praise kink, degradation/dumbification kink, cockwarming, edging, unprotected piv sex, creampie, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, etc), talk of reader wearing a collar, joel giving reader a bath/washing her hair, hella aftercare, reader has hair and can be carried by joel, implied age gap but reader is an adult, let me know if i missed anything!!

word count: 5.7k

a/n: literally nobody look at me please. this the most self indulgent self insert shit i’ve ever written in my life and if you get it you get it idk what else to say!!! anyway thank you for being patient with me and reading what i write, my big girl job takes it out of me sometimes but that’s what i write this type of shit to deal with <3 nice comments and reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed or if this awakened something in you :)

(read part 1 here if you missed it)

dividers by @saradika

“You want Daddy to train you, babygirl, you wanna be his pretty lil’ pet?”

It had been a week now since Joel had punished you, denied you for acting out over the phone, for disobeying him and sending him lewd photos of yourself when he had explicitly told you to stop. But you hadn���t listened, he wasn’t having it, and when he had returned home from work late that night, he had called you by a new name. Puppy, he had spat at you several times as he made you chase a ruined orgasm on his steel-toed work boot. 

The pet name hadn’t left your mind since then, repeating itself over and over, along with his question of if you wanted to be trained, if you wanted to be his pet. The more you thought about it, the more you found yourself becoming desperate for it. Each day in the office was a struggle to stay focused on even the simplest of tasks, your thoughts overrun with fantasies of Joel getting you on all fours for him, giving you commands and praising you for following them, tugging you towards him by a finger hooked into a collar to tell you what a pretty puppy, what a good girl you’re being for him.

You’d left work every evening for the past several days with a damp spot in the seat of your panties, feeling ashamed by how depraved and inappropriate almost every one of your waking thoughts had become. When you would greet Joel at the door all needy and wanting, he would tease you with a “What’s gotten into you, lately, hm?”, but never push for more than you were willing to reveal to him, though he thought he might have had an idea. He would take you to the bedroom and have his way with you the way you liked, the way you had usually craved, before he had turned your world upside down by deciding on a whim to try somethin’ new that fateful night. 

Joel would be more than willing to try it again, to follow through with that question he’d asked you, but he decided he was content with waiting for you to come to him, for you to decide when you were ready for him to make you his good puppy once more.

–

The weekend begins just like any other. Joel’s internal clock wakes him up no later than seven in the morning, the sun just barely streaming in through the blinds in your shared bedroom. He tries to keep his creaks and groans to a minimum as he rolls out of bed, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead before quietly padding his way into the kitchen to get a sizable pot of coffee brewing. He lets you sleep for another couple of hours, knowing full and well at this point in your relationship that he has the wrath of your grumpy morning attitude to face if he doesn’t. He does think it’s cute, though, how your face twists up into a pout but your eyes stay scrunched closed if he wakes you up at a time you deem too early.

When Joel does decide it’s a sensible time for the two of you to get a proper start on your generous two days off from the slog of your weekday jobs, he cracks the bedroom door open gently, making his way over to your still-sleeping form. He softly brushes some of your knotted hair out of your face as he places your mug of coffee on the nightstand beside your head, prepared just the way you like it. Whatever happened to good ol’ fashioned cream and sugar? Or just plain black, for that matter? Can’t believe you like it with all this cinnamon vanilla whatever you have me dump in it, he had teased, not long after you had first started sleeping over at his place. Can’t believe you drink it without anything in it. It needs at least a lil’ somethin’ sweet in it, you had bantered back to him, to which he was quick to reply with Got my somethin’ sweet right here, don’t I? before pulling you into his lap and kissing you hard until both of your cups ran cold.

You smile at the memory in your half-sleepy state, slowly blinking your eyes open to see Joel’s warm and familiar smile. “Mornin’, sweet girl,” he says, his grin only growing wider when you greet him back with the cute little squeal that comes out when you stretch your arms over your head instead of an actually intelligible word. “Got some emails and borin’ stuff to catch up on this mornin’, why don’t you just stay comfy and sip on your coffee while you wake up for a bit, hm? Probably be done in time to get lunch together somewhere, how’s that sound?”

“Okay, Daddy,” you reply softly, real words this time, as you push yourself up to sitting while Joel props your pillows up behind you for your back to rest against. You don’t put up much of a fight against the yawn that stretches your jaw, rubbing your blurry eyes as it does.

“Alright, gimme a kiss, sleepy girl. Enjoy your creamer with a splash o’ coffee,'' Joel taunts through a chuckle. He presses his lips to yours, and his coarse beard tickles the skin around your mouth, making you giggle. The smile hasn’t completely faded from your face by the time he slips out of the bedroom to head into his office, shutting the door gently behind him.

Extending a hand down to your nightstand, you hook your fingers through the mug’s handle and slowly bring it up to your face, careful not to spill any. He’d chosen your favorite Daddy’s Girl mug, the phrase written in bold pink text curved over a little illustration of two blue daisies. You always thought your coffee tasted a little better from this mug, somehow. Taking your first sugary sweet sip, you think the sentiment is as true this morning as it’s always been.

–

A little while later, when you feel somewhat more awake thanks to plenty of caffeine and sugar working its way through your body, you finally force yourself into comfortable clothes different from the ones you slept in. With your hair sufficiently tamed, face washed, and teeth brushed, you decide now’s as good of a time as any to try and act on the plan you’d been concocting over the past couple of days, waiting for a moment just like this to pounce on.

You still felt too shy to bring it up to Joel, to tell him how badly you’ve been wanting him to treat you like his little pet, and go even further with it this time. You know he’d never judge you for it, and he had seemed to like the experiment just as much as you did. But something about your little fantasy still felt taboo and shameful, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to use your big girl words and ask for it.

Though, you had finally realized, maybe you didn’t have to ask for it. Maybe you could quietly tip toe into his office one lazy Saturday morning and sit at his feet, nuzzle into his thigh until he brings a hand down from his keyboard to scratch behind your ear, asking you What’re you up to down there, babygirl?

And that’s exactly where you’ve found yourself now, answering his question with a dreamy whimper, leaning into his touch as the feeling of his fingers on your skin makes you smile so blissfully, wiggling on your knees.

“What’s got you feelin’ so snuggly this mornin’, hm? Just need some lovin’ from your Daddy?” he asks in his still-rough morning voice, gazing down at you affectionately.

“Mmhmm,” you hum, wrapping your arms around his calf and rubbing your cheek against the soft leg of his sweatpants.

“Alright, lil’ thing. Just got a couple more emails to take care of and then I’m all yours, promise.” He removes his hand from your scalp to start typing again, and you pout in protest. 

Joel shoots a stern look down to you. “Poutin’ don’t typically get us what we want, now does it? Be patient, sweetheart, just a few more minutes.”

You release another upset noise, louder this time, and then he’s pushing his rolling chair back, your grasp around his leg coming apart as he does.

“Came in here actin’ so good and sweet, where’d this bratty girl come from, hm? If there’s somethin’ you want, gotta use your big girl words and ask for it, you know that,” he scolds, his expression becoming more serious.

You hadn’t meant to elicit this reaction from him at all, and it causes your eyes to well up as you stare at the carpet, avoiding his gaze. Opting to answer him with just a shrug, you fidget with your fingers in your lap to distract yourself from the sting behind your eyes. You do attempt to open your mouth and make your desires known to him, but think better of it, and any big girl words you did have swirling around in your brain are replaced by yet another half-hearted little whine.

A whine that sounds… a little familiar to him. 

“Oh, I see…” Joel muses, a little less authority in his voice as he assumes a more relaxed position in his desk chair. “I think I know what’s goin’ on here.”

You look up to meet his eyes, tilting your head in confusion. The action prompts his lips to tug into a knowing smile, and he leans forward in his seat, making a beckoning motion with his hand. “C’mere, baby. Between my legs.”

You obey immediately, crawling towards him to close the small distance between you, settling in a kneeling position between his spread thighs. “Good girl,” he praises, and the words make you beam as he cups your chin, the moisture that had been blooming along your water lines now forgotten.

“Think I know why my sweet girl ain’t usin’ her words with me this mornin’...” Joel says, scratching at the soft skin under your chin with his fingertips. You can’t help but lean into his touch, lashes fluttering, and it’s enough to confirm his suspicions.

“Reckon it’s because puppies don’t know to, hm? They just whimper and whine for attention from their Daddies cause they don’t know how to talk, ain’t that right?”

You let out a pathetic little noise when he finally says the word, the one that’s been dampening every pair of panties you own for the past week, but that you’d been too scared to ask to hear again. But you were right after all, you didn’t have to ask for it, because Joel always knows just what you need, somehow.

He uses his grip on your chin to nod your head up and down for you, and continues talking down to you in that gravelly tone of voice that makes you feel like you’re about to melt straight through the floor. “Yeah… ‘F you wanna be Daddy’s lil’ puppy this mornin’, tha’s alright with him. Figured you oughta be missin’ it by now, seein’ as how you liked it so much the first time around…”

You’re barely processing what he’s saying, your lips slack and eyes unblinking as your cunt releases little pulses of slick into your panties. Something about Joel seeing through you so clearly, calling you out on your newly discovered kink and using it to pull you hard and fast into this familiar saccharine headspace, has your whole body burning hot with arousal. 

“And if I know one thing about puppies, it’s that they need some trainin’, don’t they? ‘Specially impatient ones like the pretty thing I’ve got sittin’ at my feet. Don’t you agree? Don’t speak, just nod, babygirl.”

It’s unusual for him to request a nonverbal response, as opposed to a Yes, Daddy, but you’re grateful for the change as you allow yourself to fall deeper into your role. You give him what he asks for, a couple of eager nods in quick succession, even though you aren’t quite sure where he’s going with this yet.

“Asked you twice to be good and patient for Daddy, and all I got was poutin’ and whinin’ instead, didn’t I? Think my lil’ pet oughta learn her first command today: Wait. Because good puppies know how to wait for their treats, don’t they, sweet girl? Again, just nod for me.”

And you do, slower and with a little more guilt in your expression this time. But despite him making you admit to your disobedience, you’re not sure you’ve ever been more fucking soaked than you are right now. You’re throbbing, aching, shifting on your knees in an effort to get even the smallest bit of relief. You think you might be releasing little whimpers, but you can’t be sure, already feeling so floaty and far away from just his words alone.

Joel spots your desperate movements, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He shifts in his chair, adjusting for his own arousal, and gets an idea.

“On second thought… Got another command I might like to teach you first. Somethin’ a lil easier for that dumb puppy brain of yours to understand, hm?” He tilts his head at you, lips curved into a mocking pout.

Your eyes flutter and roll to the back of your head involuntarily, his degradation prompting the instinctual response from you. Another syrupy slow nod lets him know you’re ready to learn, to obey to the best of your ability.

“Alright, sweet thing. When I say paw, want you to put your hand right on my knee here, ‘kay?” Joel explains, patting his muscled leg for clarity. “Paw, baby, gimme paw,” he coos at you, his tone not dissimilar to the one he uses to speak to actual dogs. 

Forcing your brain to work through the dense cloud of submission that shrouds it, you lift your hand and place it on his knee, just like he had demonstrated. His enthusiastic reaction to your obedience startles you at first, but you break into a beaming grin when you see the proud expression he wears.

“Good girl, tha’s a good girl,” he praises, scratching at the top of your head and ruffling your hair. Using his touch as a distraction, Joel places your paw over his hardening bulge with his unoccupied hand, the thick shape of him prominent through his thin sweatpants. He tightens his hand on top of yours, prompting your fingers to squeeze him. He guides your hand into massaging him for a second or two more, long enough for your melted puddle of a brain to connect with the nerve endings in your fingers. Your breath hitches when you realize what it is you’re feeling, your blissed-out expression morphing into a more desperate, wide-eyed one as you focus your attention to the movement of your hands.

“Yeah, feel that, sweet girl? Feel what you do to Daddy by bein’ so good for him?” He prompts, and your thighs squeeze together as you grope him. You can’t help but draw your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down on it to stifle the needy whimper that threatens to escape.

“You wanna sit on it, pup? Hm? Wanna keep Daddy’s cock nice ‘n warm while he finishes up his work?”

Your aching cunt squeezes around nothing at the premise, and you nod so hard it makes you dizzy. You move to push yourself off the floor and stand up, but a firm hand on your shoulder stops you.

“Ah ah, gotta use your words this time. Speak, baby,” Joel commands, and it takes you a second of searching to find the ability to do so again.

“Y-yes, Daddy, wanna s-sit on it…” you answer softly, and you’ve never heard your own voice sound so wanton. It comes out in a pitch that you almost don’t recognize as your own, featherlight and dreamy and desperate all at once. The need in your voice alone is enough to satisfy him.

“Good girl, just learnin’ all kinds o’ tricks today, aren’t we? Trainin’ you so well… C’mon up here, babygirl,” he permits, and uses his big hands and sturdy forearms to assist you in your awkward and eager climb into his lap. “Take it out, baby, get your treat.”

You whine as you situate yourself atop his thighs, tossing your head back with a dramatic flair, overwhelmed and frustrated by all he’s been asking of you. You just wanted him to turn your brain off, to praise you, to not have to think while he plays with you however he wants, and instead all he’s been doing is asking you to listen, sit, speak, obey. But of course, you should know better by now, that Joel likes making you work for it, to wait for it.

“Hey,” he scolds, grabbing your face and pulling your head forward from where it had flopped between your shoulder blades. “You were doin’ so well, bein’ such a good, obedient girl. Don’t start actin’ up on me now. Could always change my mind, not let you have your treat after all. You want that?”

 “No, Daddy…” you admit, your words distorted through the way your cheeks are squished together. He’s not using much force, just enough to keep your focus on him. 

“‘S what I thought… Go on then, pup,” Joel commands, and you make quick but clumsy work of freeing his already leaking cock from the loose confines of his sweatpants and briefs. He lets go of your face in favor of placing both of his hands on your hips, lifting you up while you pull your loose shorts and panties to the side, maneuvering his length to just barely prod at your wet little entrance. You flit your eyes from where the two of you meet back up to meet his gaze, hesitating while you look to confirm your permission one last time.

“Sit, puppy,” he says through a smirk, and you release a sharp whimper as you sink down onto his cock. 

On instinct, you bury your face in the warm expanse of skin between Joel’s neck and shoulder, rolling your hips back in preparation for a satisfying buck forward. His grip on your skin turns iron, holding you in place and preventing you from chasing after your pleasure.

He cuts off your pout with a strict, “I say you could move?”

“Mmph– No, Daddy,” you mumble into his firm muscle.

He huffs a mocking breath through his nose. “Really are jus’ a dumb lil’ thing for me, ain’t you? You already forget what you’re ‘sposed to be learnin’?” “‘M sorry, Daddy–” the embarrassment from his demeaning words makes you squirm, and his grip on you becomes bruising.

“Don’t need you to be sorry. Jus’ need you to listen. You’re gonna wait like a good girl ‘til I say you can start grindin’ that messy lil’ puppy cunt on me. We clear?” he orders, his deep baritone traveling straight from your ear to your needy core, the dark thatch of hair at the base of his cock already damp as a result.

You hug yourself closer to him, little fingers clawing at his t-shirt in an attempt to ground yourself, and nod meekly.

“Speak,” he spits again.

“Y-yes, Daddy, clear…”, you whine, managing to lift your head up just enough for your voice to come out a little more coherently.

“If I let go so I can finish up my work, you gonna behave and hold still for me?” 

You don’t seem to have a choice, but you agree, anyway. “Mhm, yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl. Now wait,” Joel instructs.

You aren’t sure how much time passes, the incessant clicks and clacks of Joel’s keyboard and mouse becoming more and more irritating with each passing second. Those sharp mechanical sounds, the vibration of his chest against yours whenever he clears his throat, the feeling of his pulsing cock as it splits you in two, it’s all so fucking much. You can’t help but release little whimpers and whines, pathetic pleases and Daddys that he either shushes or chooses to ignore. Any slight movement you make in an attempt to relieve some of the ache, he just responds to with a coo of wait, pup, and the tone of his commands as you twitching, clenching around him, soaking his cock more and more. It has to have been at least fifteen or twenty minutes by now, and at this point you’re sure he must be clicking around his desktop aimlessly just to drag out your training a bit longer.

Eventually, the noises stop, and Joel breathes a sigh as he replaces his large hands on your hips, their touch much more gentle this time. You lift your head from his shoulder to face him, wide and watery doe eyes frantically searching his face for a sign that the wait is over, that you’ve finally earned your treat. 

He grants you a soft smile, lifting a hand and using it to just barely grasp your chin, tilting your head side to side as he admires you.

“Got such a sweet girl in my lap, don’t I? Knew she could be good, just needed a lil trainin’ hm?”

You nod, already feeling so overwhelmed that your mind has started to drift elsewhere, to the relief you’ll hopefully be feeling in just a few minutes, after he’s finished toying with you.

He releases your chin, ghosting his hand downwards along the column of your throat, stopping when his thumb and fingers are resting on the tops of your collarbones. He doesn’t apply any pressure, just admires the placement of his hand for a moment, then hums.

“Neck would look so pretty with a collar wrapped around it, don’t you think, pup? With a lil’ heart-shaped tag danglin’ from it, engraved with my name so everyone knows that you belong to me? That you’re my puppy, hm?”

Fuck.

The sentiment alone, the domination and ownership of it all, has you crying out your most pathetic noise so far this morning, eyebrows peaked with need as you bite down on your lip so hard you think you might’ve drawn blood. Joel predicts your reaction, clamping down on your hip with his other hand to stop you from moving before he’s decided you’re allowed to.

Again, you nod, willing to agree to anything and everything he wants from you if it means you’re getting closer to getting what you want from him, what you need.

“Say it, baby,” Joel demands of you, his voice calm but commanding.

You tilt your head at him, humming a confused little noise, but he doesn’t elaborate. “Say it, c’mon,” he repeats. Your foggy brain is on a second or two delay, but it catches up eventually, and you realize what he wants to hear.

“I’m y-your… ‘m your puppy,” you say, softly, your voice tinted with embarrassment. 

“Wha’s that, sweetheart? Didn’t quite hear you. One more time for Daddy.”

You swallow hard, inhaling a shuddering breath before repeating the phrase a little louder, with a little less control. “I’m your p-puppy, Daddy. I’m your puppy, ‘m Daddy’s–”

“Yeah, y’ are, fuck.”

He moves his hand from the base of your neck back to your hip, and uses his strong grip to hold you still while he begins a series of sharp but rewarding thrusts in and out of your swollen cunt, each one seeming to hit deeper and deeper inside you. Falling against him once more, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and bury your face into him while you let him fuck into you like a doll. His movements are quick and desperate as he growls an incoherent string of filthy praises in your ear, his words accompanied by the sloppy wet sounds of skin on skin.

“Perfect girl, Christ, tight lil’ puppy pussy feels so fuckin’ good, always feels so fuckin’ good. Such a good girl, such a good goddamn girl for Daddy.”

The harsh bounce of your body in his lap jostles every last one of your thoughts from your brain, and he relishes in the animalistic cries and yelps you mumble into the flesh of your upper arm, now damp with your drool. He must feel the moisture as it pools underneath your face and wets the thin fabric of his t-shirt, because then he’s laughing at you, spewing more obscene words at you as he spears you up and down on his cock.

“Shit, are you fuckin’ droolin’ on me, sweetheart? Got this messy cunt and that pretty mouth both soakin’ me, Christ. This cock make you that dumb, hm? You Daddy’s dumb puppy?”

You are, you both fucking know you are, so you agree and repeat it back to him to the best of your fucked-out ability because you know it’s what he wants to hear. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to hear it too, the self-degradation lighting your whole body on fire as some of that heat forms itself into a tight ball in your tummy. 

Joel’s hips begin to stutter, his hold on you starting to falter, complete sentences turning into sharply whispered expletives as he nears his orgasm. He can feel you squeezing around him, notices the telltale sign of your muscles tightening and your breathing coming out in short bursts, and uses that four letter word against you one last time.

“Not yet, babygirl, don’t you fuckin’ come for me, not ‘til I say. Wait,” he spits through gritted teeth.

You were so ready, just teetering on the edge of your orgasm, all you needed was a few more jackhammering thrusts and you’d be careening down the steep cliff of it. It takes everything in you to hold it in, to not let go. But you’ve been so good for him, and Joel doesn’t have it in him to torture you much longer, and he permits you to finish just a few minutes later.

“Alright, come, puppy, come for Daddy,” he orders, and you spasm in his lap with a debauched cry, that ball of heat in your tummy dispersing through your bloodstream, igniting every one of your nerves and sending sparks flying behind your eyelids. He reaches his high at the same time, spilling his release inside of you the way you both like.

It takes a few moments for the both of you to come back into yourselves, heaving chests eventually matching each other in a more relaxed rhythm. Joel softly scratches at the back of your head while you place delicate kisses mindlessly along his neck and up behind his ear.

“You were so good, sweetheart. Always take everything I give you so well,” Joel quietly praises next to your ear. He touches his lips to the side of your head, then your temple, then gently maneuvers your face so that he can press a final kiss to your forehead. Your eyelids flutter open in response, and your lips tug into a sleepy grin as you focus on his face. “There she is, my beautiful girl.” He sweeps a few tangled locks of hair away from your face, and even though you know you must look like a mess, you let him admire you anyway.

“Still up to go out for some lunch? After we get ourselves cleaned up ‘n all,” Joel asks, shifting his gaze down to where his spend leaks from you, staining both of your clothes a darker color and dripping onto the fabric of his desk chair.

You pause, chewing on the inside of your cheek for a bit before shaking your head.

“No? Tha’s alright, sweet girl, don’t blame you one bit. You’ll still let Daddy get you cleaned up though, won’t you sweetheart? How’s about I run you a bath with some o’ that new flowery bubble bath you just got, hm?”

You light up at the premise, nodding eagerly, and Joel flashes his handsome smile at you in return. “Alright, hang onto me, baby,” he says, and you wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders as he scoops you up and carries you to the bedroom, his softening cock still nestled inside you. The two of you detach when he sets you down on the small, handmade wooden bench adjacent to the tub, and leaves only for a moment to retrieve your favorite pink blanket from the living room. He wraps it around your shoulders when he returns, and starts the bath for you. He makes sure to squeeze a generous amount of the bubble bath into the roaring stream of water, ensuring that the bath is sufficiently fragrant and relaxing.

When the tub is full, with mounds of white soap bubbles threatening to spill over the smooth porcelain walls, he helps you strip out of your clothes, tugging your bottoms down your legs as you remove your own top over your head. Joel offers you one of his hands to steady yourself with as you step into the bath and lower yourself into the steaming water. It feels perfect, because just like he knows exactly how you take your coffee, how you want to be fucked without you having to ask, he also knows the almost-too-hot temperature of bathwater you prefer. 

He allows you to wash your own body, while he uses the cup you keep by the tub to douse your hair with water, using his rough fingertips to massage your favorite coconut shampoo into your scalp. You’re almost done scrubbing yourself by the time he’s raking conditioner through your damp ringlets, and then he’s rinsing you clean, the humid air in the room now smelling like a dozen different flowers and fruits, all of them mixing together to smell definitively like you. It’s his favorite scent in the whole world.

You don’t exchange many words during your bath, mostly enjoying the intimacy of the activity in silence. The action alone is enough to let you know how deeply the two of you care for each other, how much you trust and love each other.

When the water eventually runs cool, Joel helps you out of the slippery tub, and wraps you in one of your plush bath towels, a lighter shade of pink than your blanket, but just as soft.

“I’ll let you finish up in here, and I’ll see about orderin’ us some delivery, hm? I’ll get you whatever you want, and we can throw on a movie to watch while we eat, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds good, Daddy,” you reply, the bath leaving you feeling refreshed and more like yourself, able to find your voice again.

You settle on ordering your favorite fast food, and it arrives shortly before you tiptoe your way into the living room, your wet hair now pulled up into a clip while the rest of you is dry and comfortable, wrapped in a soft lounge set and your cozy blanket.

“There she is, the Poky Lil’ Puppy,” Joel teases, removing your containers of chicken tenders and fries from the plastic bag they arrived in, setting them on the coffee table in front of the couch.

You giggle at his quip, settling down on the cushion next to him. “I’m not… poky, or whatever,” you reply, in a tone of voice that isn’t sure if you’re supposed to feel complimented or offended.

He looks at you in minor disbelief for a second, then moves his head and brows in a gesture that suggests something like touché. “It’s the name of a kids’ book. Written a lil’ before your time, I guess.”

“Oh… I’ll take it, then.” You settle against Joel’s warm, sturdy form as you munch on a fry, watching the TV screen as he flips through the most promising of the half dozen streaming services he’s subscribed to. “You know…” you start, but let the rest of your sentence drift away, not sure if you want to continue.

“Yeah, babygirl?” he replies, and it encourages you to finish your thought.

“I really liked, um… what we did today. Earlier,” you continue, doing your best to push through your shyness in an effort to get better at communicating your desires with him.

Joel pauses his browsing, putting the TV remote on the table so he can meet your eyes. “In my office, you mean?”

You can’t help but smile cheekily at the memory. “Yeah… I really like being called… that, I think. And if you don’t think it’s too weird–”

“Course I don’t, sweetheart. Would never judge you for likin’ what you like. If it makes you happy, makes you feel good, if it ain’t hurtin’ anyone, then there’s nothin’ wrong with it, baby.” Joel’s turned his upper body to face you now, to make sure you understand the sincerity of his words.

You smile, and his reassurance gives you the confidence to continue. “I really like that… collar idea,” you admit softly. “Maybe we can try that next time.”

He tucks his tongue into the pocket of his cheek, his face forming into a satisfied expression. “Thought you might. Keep bein’ Daddy’s good girl, he just might get you one. Maybe a matchin’ leash, too, somethin’ to tug on when I need you to listen.”

Your eyelids perform their involuntary flutter, a quiet whimper escaping your lungs at the thought. 

“Alright, settle down now, baby,” Joel says through a chuckle, shaking his head before kissing the top of your head affectionately. “Got all the time in the world to try whatever we want. Just focus on eatin’ your lunch for now, sweetheart.”

You snuggle up close to him after he starts the movie you both decided on, happily eating your salty and savory meal as you watch. For the rest of the afternoon, you feel warm and satisfied for a few different reasons, the most important one due to how grateful you are to have Joel.

He takes care of you, understands you, and loves you like nobody else ever could. And it’s mornings like these that make you especially aware of that fact. You’ll be his good girl for as long as he wants you to be–forever, hopefully–and he’ll always give you exactly what you need in exchange for it. 

Even if that something might be a collar with his name on it, fit for his perfect little puppy.

tag list (no pressure if this one isn't your thing!!) @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw (if your name is crossed out it won't let me tag you!!)

[ge]

can I hear more abt your trans chung myung thoughts please

.

HEHE ANYTHING FOR YOU MY ANGELS... trans chung myung is like my number one, most well loved & personal, firmest hc evur.. no matter what he is always trans to me idk..he is like the most trans character ive ever seen its sooo real to me.. ive said it once ill say it again, chung myungs lore is literally impact by his transsexualism and im the only one who sees it.. if u get it u get it... a little cw for minor transphobia out of ignorance, not prejudice..⬇️

i always imagined that chung myung knew he was trans since he was very young, like 'beginning to comprehend words and what they mean' young.. he always got angry and aggressive when his sect siblings called him young lady or samae, sajeo, etc, lashing out even at elders to the point hed get in trouble over it... i think pretty quickly everyone figured out if they just 'humoured' him, he'd get over whatever phase he was in and stop being so troublesome, so they did.. at first they began using more masculine terms and honourifics in a 'wink wink nudge' indulgent kind of way but they noticed as he got older, he started inserting himself into more male dominated spaces, even going so far as to bathe and groom himself w the other male disciples

at first it kind of set off red flags for everyone who were still under the impression chung myung was still just going through his little 'phase' but i think chung mun was the first who stepped up and actually ASKED chung myung about it.. he pulls chung myung to the side one day and asks WHY chung myung keeps doing the things he does and chung myung frowns and says because im a boy sahyung..DUH.. chung myung explains the best he can but bc he doesnt really know how to articulate himself on these matters (doesnt know any other trans people or experiences outside of his own and cant put it into words properly) and bc chung mun is cis, chung mun is still a little confused but now he understands chung myung isnt like..joking about this, or going through some sort of phase.. he seemed genuinely put out and upset when implied chung mun didnt understand him so from that day forward chung mun very firmly introduces chung myung to everyone in the sect as their littlest brother and that was pretty much that..

it probably took some people a while to wrap their head around, but because i dont want anyone in mt hua to be transphobic LOL they all understand and accept chung myung as their new baby brother pretty quickly and soon they dont even bat an eye seeing him train topless or bathe w the rest of the guys, doing other guy dominated activities, etc.. when he got older it was just normalized that one of their brothers had boobs..literally nobody gaf theyre REAL trans allies.. mount hua most PROGRESSIVE MARTIAL ARTS SECT

also majorly hc chung myung does not have any bodily dysphoria/morphia and is perfectly fine w the way he looks, especially after he gets older and starts building lots of muscle, so he never undergoes any gender affirming surgeries but he does take wuxia testosterone pills.. cuz i think the idea of wuxia magic hormone pills is hilarious and awesome

ive also put some thought into whether cho sams body would be trans or cis, because either could be interesting.. i feel like if cho sam were cis it would actually invoke body image issues and dysphoria in chung myung, having been thrust into a body so unfamiliar & alien to him than the one he spent the most time living in and caring for.. i dont really think too much in depth about this tho so my thoughts on it are pretty vague.. is cho sam cis or trans? (shrugs) up to you!

ummm *scratches ass* i cant think of anything else to say.. trans chung myung is so awesomesauce and i love projecting my own transmasc wants and desires onto him and into a world that accepts and loves him for who he is.. i have more thoughts about his relationship w tang bo and the world around them and how they view him but those are a little more personal and nuanced so i wont get into all dat.... when rotmhs gets more popular i hope trans chung myung hc blows up cuz its sooo real... something something chung myungs reincarnation into cho sam is a trans allegory

[archived-yiptsu]

Hey, here's a chance for you to ramble ;)

About who because I have way too much to say all at once

Like for fucking starters the way the fandom took Dreamtale (which quite frankly didn't belong in the UnderTale Multiverse in the first place and I'm 90% sure Joku just wanted to insert her[?] OCs and story somewhere she[?] knew it would get attention) and turned it into something fantastic was absolutely incredible to watch pan out in real-time. Second of all there is nobody in this world who is more in love with Nightmare's design than I am at this point 'cuz there has not been a single day in the last five years I have not thought about him (/srs) good LORD there is way too much to talk about there and I promised someone I wouldn't be un-sfw on here just know I'm on my knees barking for him begging him for a chance a SINGLE chance and that I would pay for.. certain artwork.. of him if given that opportunity..

Anyway I think the fandom's version of Dreamtale both ruins and improves the overall story because quite frankly I have never been happy with how Passive!Nightmare straightup dies but maybe that's just the angst brain y'know I think that Nightmare living but holding a deep hatred and/or jealousy for Dream would have been a better route there but also I understand that the AU doesn't only revolve around them and has to involve other characters and having Passive die is probably one of the easiest ways of doing that. But also if Nightmare killed his own mom how much extra angst potential would there be, right? 'Cuz then we'd also get angst with Dream trying to move on from it and forgive him and that is a whole other topic and I'm tryna stay on track here.

Speaking of Dream I personally think that the way the fandom used to (and still does sometimes) treat him was foul.. absolutely slanderous. UwU little soft boi Dream.. bleh. I think I could understand that take on Dream if it was when he was younger or had just directly come out of statue form but the people who used to write him as just some guy who lived solely to fix his brother and not think about anything else was certainly something. I mean I think you could technically write a perspective like that but it would take such a large amount of effort to fit properly within literally any sort of canon that it just wouldn't be worth it at all unless you're really that dedicated to it. Anyway, I think I'm just glad that the fandom has largely moved past the entire pathetically weak Dream saga that happened. I really fucking love Dream who is still grieving over the loss of his brother but can also accept that he's gone and is focusing on saving the Multiverse instead of trying to get his brother back at any cost I'm so in love with that version of Dream but nobody writes him like that on Wattpad so whenever I'm reading a fic about him it's HORRIBLE.

Y'know what I'm taking the chance to talk about how I don't think there's enough religious content surrounding Dream and Nightmare because I'd like to remind everyone that they are Guardians, which is pretty similar to Gods depending on who you ask. You CANNOT tell me that, whilst Nightmare is out causing havoc and spreading negativity to the AUs and such, not a SINGLE person would start thinking of him as a deity-like figure. Take it a step further and have them praying to him and giving him offerings like that is a banger concept if done correctly.

Take it ANOTHER step further and have it be done with Dream. Sure Nightmare's the Guardian of Negativity so not many people are likely to support him and such but Dream is the Guardian of Positivity, people would 100% worship him. There are so many things you could do with this concept, have him running around trying to keep his supporters happy whilst also protecting the Multiverse from Nightmare, have him be overwhelmed have him be fearful of the way people view him because it reminds him of the times before the Apple Incident oh my God please can someone do anything with this concept

Also side note I am in love with the bad sanses poly ship like that's also something not explored enough within fics I'll get around to writing something about it eventually but LORD the things I would do to read a 150k word fic about their adventures and their love for each other and their arguments and their miscommunications and their flaws and how they love each other's flaws and how they accept each other for who they are without having to drastically change anything about themselves and how they've finally found comfort in other people like them and how they never thought they would so they're super happy and AAAAAAAAAA dude. The things I'd do to read something like that.

Also. Listen to me. Error. I don't think I have to say much else because the large majority of people are already agreeing just based on Error alone but.. Error.

I am a VERY big fan of how his redesign is VERY similar to Geno's design except in negative form with some slight variations and I don't know if anything I'm about to talk about was on purpose or not but we're going into it anyway. First of all I love the idea of a Sans somehow glitching his way practically out of existence and becoming a fucked up piece of code like Error, but God the way his design looks will never get old to me. Never. The way he's all black because it's the negative of white and y'know in computer viruses and crashes they usually portray it as turning into negative colours when something has gone wrong BUT the way that Error's design only uses the primary colours (red, yellow, blue) WOOF that gets me GOINNNNNGGG like YES we've gone back to the basics no more complex colours no more special little colour palettes nothing like that he is basic and he is simple. He is UNPREDICTABLE like a virus he does not have any set opinions or personality traits at least not set in stone he is unhinged he has nothing to properly define him other than the term 'manbaby' and it is SO good because he isn't Sans he isn't even considered one or at least he shouldn't be because yes technically he is one if you look into it even the slightest but he has basically zero similarities because his personality is negative his personality is flipped his personality is FUCKED everything about him is FUCKED and he is INSANE. He is not patient like Sans he is not mysterious like Sans he is not harmless unless heavily, heavily aggravated like Sans he is the opposite he is a FOOL. A JESTER. Can someone draw him in a jester's outfit I think that would be funny anyway I love him he's my little meow meow my little guy my little non-friendly pal ALSO his fucking birthday is a 404 joke and his strings are a joke too for strings of code and it took me FOUR YEARS to figure that out because I'm a dummy but once it clicked?? Wowza it was like a new world opened because I could actually finally understand what his strings were all about.

I don't really have much to say about Killer if I'm being honest with you.. I'm just obsessed with him because he's a crazy extrovert who stabs people to death and also his design fucks hard though I do somehow keep forgetting his Soul whenever I draw him.. which isn't often I really need to start drawing him more he's SO fun his little drippy eye sockets are SO much fun to draw I cannot lie to you guys I would most definitely do a full piece of art of him if it meant I got to draw his eyes.

Fuck it I think Killer and Nightmare's possible relationship dynamics go CRAZY and I will need there to be more content of them. It does not matter if it's ship or not I just need them being them. I need Killer annoying Nightmare but Nightmare putting up with it because he finds it really cute how Killer likes being near him even if it's only to annoy him. I need Killer being patient and listening to Nightmare struggling to explain his own emotions (I also need Nightmare who can process everyone else's emotions besides his own) and Nightmare being so so grateful that he can confide in Killer about it. I need Killer following Nightmare's every word and demand because he wants to please him and when Nightmare compliments him it's all worth it. I need awkward Nightmare and Killer where Killer keeps trying to befriend Nightmare but Nightmare can't figure out what he's trying to do so he's just like "???" until Killer has to outright ask him to be friends. I need not awkward Killer and Nightmare where Nightmare knows full well that Killer wants to be friends but he is afraid of what would happen and he's afraid of putting their team in danger because what if he says something bad and Killer decides to leave ?? What would happen to the rest of his team then ??

I need Nightmare and Killer content where Nightmare is willing to take the risk of befriending him if it means being closer with him. And then I need Nightmare and Killer content which evolves into Killermare content which then evolves into bad sans poly.

I need Nightmare and Killer. Just in general now I just need them no further context.

WHEW the things I could say about Blueberror.. man I only started getting into him like a week ago because of a Wattpad request but I completely forgot how in love with his design I am. I can't really comment on it the same way as Error because, well, nothing tops Error but his design is so so so fun I love it I love how he still resembles his old self I love how not much changed other than he, again, became a sort of negative-like version of himself. I fucking love the stars on his face too I think face markings have gotta be the best thing to ever happen with OC creation in general things just feel incomplete if they don't have something there to draw on their faces

Wait is that the link? Is that what I've been missing???? Blueberror has stars Error has lines, Killer has his drippy eyesockets and Nightmare has his one singular covered drippy eyesocket oh fuck they all have some sort of identifiable feature on their faces God damn it

[fragilecapric0rnn]

made this playlist for my friend @cheatghost's BEAUTIFULLY wonderful fic show me the place where he inserted the blade. i put a lot of thought into the playlist and was talked into doing an analysis. I will be diving into each part of the fic by going over how and why the songs i chose for each section relate to the themes and events that take place. each part will have it's own post.

here is Part V. Home

V. Home

The last part of the fic and the playlist - home. After all this time, they finally found each other. These songs reflect the making up for lost time, planning for a future that can now exist, and a future where Steve can finally start living.

I. As Long As We’re Together by The Lemon Twigs

This song, from the direction of Lou and their playlist, felt just perfect to start this section off with. It's relief, it's jaded and bruised, just like Steve and Eddie, but it's still relief.

If somehow I was standing In your room without my boots With your spider in my hand And I look at you

The start of the song immediately jumps into these lyrics that are a reflection of Eddie and Steve. They're in his room, they're together, Steve is in disbelief staring up at the constellation that he forgot the name of years ago, remembering Fawn.

Well I don't think I'll be bitter "Hey you must not know yourself very well"

This lyric makes me go INSANE. It's Steve reading the writings all over Eddie's walls. It's him having so many emotions, now having found him and standing in his room.

II. Bedroom Hymns by Florence + The Machine

The smut scene that made me cry. Picked this song to reflect the intensity of it all. But now that I'm looking at the lyrics, it's definitely clear that I picked this song for the vibes more than anything!

III. Here, There, And Everywhere by The Beatles

Here Making each day of the year Changing my life with a wave of her hand Nobody can deny that there's something there

This song and it's soft sound and the themes in it, made me think of Steve's short trip home and the phone calls. They're already starting that future that Steve has been waiting for.

There Running my hands through her hair Both of us thinking how good it can be Someone is speaking, but she doesn't know he's there

This part made me think of the voicemails Eddie left of Steve's machine as he packed his things to go back. It's our first glimpse as readers at a happy moment for him, a hopeful moment for him. Everything has changed, everything is changing, things are happy now.

Everywhere Knowing that love is to share Each one believing that love never dies Watching her eyes, and hoping I'm always there

IV. Samson by Regina Spektor

This song, this SONG. Interpreting it through the lens of this story literally makes me cry on the spot. It's been playing as I read the part of chapter 5 that made me choose it for the playlist and I am in tears. TEARS. Anyway, let's get into it.

You are my sweetest downfall I loved you first, I loved you first Beneath the stars came fallin' on our heads But they're just old light, they're just old light

And this made me visualize the constellations in Eddie's room. They stars are hanging above him, reaching into his soul and pulling out the forgotten constellation, Fawn. The old light is Fawn and the name literally came falling down on Steve's head. Eddie is his sweetest downfall, the person he'd spend 11 more years looking for, the one he found. I love you, still. I love you, always.

Your hair was long when we first met + Samson went back to bed Not much hair left on his head

These two lyrics and Eddie. Eddie's hair is gone, he's not the long haired metalhead anymore, he has this big, physical change while Steve looks the same. "You haven’t changed, is what he means. You haven’t had to be somebody else." He's not the same when they first met, neither of them are, but Eddie's change is tangible.

So Steve joins him. He cuts his hair in solidarity with Eddie, to show him that he has changed too, that neither of them are the same, a signifier of the fresh start that they are about to embark on together. Their changed and different, but the same, their hearts are the same hearts that have always been in love with each other.

"Same eyes. Same smile."

V. Home by Modern Baseball 

THE song that I have to stop myself from copying and pasting THE WHOLE DAMN THING! There are a million and a half songs that have the title Home and deal with themes of home being people rather than a place, but this one has always been my favorite rendition of it. It's also the perfect representation for Steve and Eddie and their journey back to each other.

If you love don't let it go from We will be the first to wonder Where life meets living + (Your hands, hold tight, don't spend all of your time tryna remember living)

This song and the emphasis on LIVING just felt entirely too fitting to Steve's arc. He went from picturing this life with Eddie as he was falling in love, having that love ripped from him and taking that life with him, a decade of searching to cope and searching in place of living, to now, to finally finding him and in turn, finding the ability to live again.

Life has finally turned into living for Steve. He can live, now.

I'll love you forever, Hell I've loved you all along And since screams and shouts Won't stretch these clocks Let's live our time by "Oh just one more song"

It's about the parallels! Between that first line and -

“I love you, still,” Eddie says after the stardust settles, looking deep into Steve’s eyes. His own eyes are glassy, his cheeks are wet, and Steve finds that he’s crying, too. 

“I love you, always.”

We don't need a place and time, no We got all the places and times we need Or so we think, lets just think

The scattered conversations/voices at the end of the song felt like the perfect representation for the family waiting for Eddie. For everyone in California, who can also start living with their family back intact, back together. The empty chair at the table, now filled again.

VI. No Choir by Florence + The Machine

Recently found this song while building a playlist for a fic I'm writing, and BOY OH BOY if this isn't the song that should be on ever future fic that deals with the coping. After years of chaos and uncertainty and in this case, searching, the happy ending of it all. Coping with the fact that it's over now, that happiness and peace is finally here.

I gathered you here to hide from some vast unnameable fear But the loneliness never left me

These lyrics will haunt me for the rest of my life and show up in everything I ever write for the rest of my life. Because this is what Steve didn't, right? He took the loneliness with him and wore it like a shield, a form of protection that was also harming him in the process. This song also felt like his and Robin's talk at the end, because she was there this whole time, and now that it's over, he can finally fully allow himself to let her be there for him. The stobin through it all, forever in love with Lou's mind for ending it on a Stobin moment.

I always took it with me But I can put it down in the pleasure of your company

In the pleasure of the company of the people he loves. A quiet ending, after everything they've all been through. Finally, a moment of peace.

-

this has been such a pleasure to work on! thank you again @cheatghost for letting me dissect your fic and wax poetics about it <3 i could go on and on forever about how much your fic means to me and will always be in my heart <3

[jaythelay]

The whole pro-noun thing just gets ridiculous when ya can't use any pro-noun as a lazy descripter because somehow someone will take it as offensively as possible and somehow that's your fault you didn't consider a 2-4 letter word as important as the actual topic of interest.

It's hardly even mistakes in this instance. It's just that nobody personifies descriptive words that mean very very little to the context of discussion. What it does is essentially say "Literally everything on the backburner, change how you talk or you're clearly reprehensible"

More like lazy. Because there's real shit to deal with that isn't risk reduction for offending someone. Sorry but it really is "I can't eat this burger because it has lettuce on it and I hate lettuce" Buddy just take the lettuce off and quit acting like hating something is equivelant to being allergic. No one was trying to kill you, it's just that lettuce normally goes on their burgers and they made a mistake. Christ everyone's out to get you. Actually everyone.

But to demand they remove lettuce and ban the cook is ridiculous for something I cannot stress enough as an ally, is frivilous, looks incredibly hostile to anyone out of or in the know, and accomplishes nothing but pretend progress that effectively does nothing.

Like when you start forcing people to use specific pronouns for an androgynous character, you missed the fuckin point of the artistic purpose. It's not even about "inserting yourself" it's refering to yourself as the player character for the context of discussion, and then acting like it's offensive to consider anything other than your new hill to die on, even briefly.

Like my god I just read a transcript where someone pointed out when someone said the right pronoun and the wrong one and I can't believe these fringe people think the whole world sees red and blue underlines under mistakes and go "Clearly this is healthy behavior by healthy minded people with only good interests"

Chill. You aren't making anyone feel safe. You're making outsiders of your clearly unraveling fanbase extremely uncomfortable trying to follow arbitrary rules. Hell it doesn't even help anyone in the aspect of fuck one, help another, it just makes everyone on edge over The Most Frivilous Part of any language.

The "gender is a construct" crowd desperately wants gendered language to be offensive, and I genuinely do not understand why. Ya just look like hyper-active "boys only" treehouse dwellers coming up with arbitrary rules based on a concept you've built without a single outside influence to keep it reasonable, and then when the new rules drop you go out of your way to harrass people instantly with no time to learn or adjust. Just pathetic.

Again. Bout as Ally as it comes and to this day this one "rule" is absurd. Just call people what they want to be called and move on. All the arbitrary rules genuinely only instill anxiety.

Normal people you walk up and talk to. This group of people will actually kill you if you approach their special egg without reading their entire double length bible of

"Correct, Moral ways to approach The Specialist Person Ever who only has special rules to follow, just to talk, because they were born special."

And their fucking name is Greg, they don't even give that much of a shit about any of that, because they're not chronically online in incredibly hostile communities virtue signalling each other in the hopes one of them evolves into God the Merciful.

Fuckin fake characters don't need defending in ways that make actual people look like total brats never told no before. Ya make 2 cunts happy and everyone else anxious. That's the entire pro-noun bullshit. A Few Fringe people ya consider the entirety of the label, feel special while everyone else has to walk on eggshells, including those you pretend to protect.

Online people may generally follow these rules, but IRL, you make these people HAVE to closet themselves because that label now looks so god damn bad to everyone around them. Ya throw up this garbage ruleset for your christian minecraft server and flood it upon the world as if you had any control over how people talk in the first place, get mad at that realization, and then escalate your problem for all even further.

Get real, touch grass, interact with people in real life and not the social ladder climbers online pretending to be holier than thou with the patience and mercy of a pissed off toddler.

My advice for everyone is: Respect the person. Ignore the server rules, they're arbitrary in application AND use. There are no rules. Only intention. Do not let the treehouse dwellers make you feel like a bad person when they have no clue how to socialize outside of their tree. Don't be anxious to speak to someone who doesn't have a gun. Simple shit.

[polychaeteworm]

Hi I am a trans masc! When I bind I do pass fully as male. Here are some negative things I experienced when people began perceiving me as male. This is long but I think it's all stuff that's important for me to share. Especially since op is literally asking if anything at all changed for the worse. (Spoiler alert: Yes, yes some things got harder)

1. No more hug greetings! People I hugged in greeting before now don't do that to me. It's an unconscious choice. Especially other men! People are now weirded out when I go for a hug when it was totally normal before. People now assume I am a less emotional person! People no longer ask me how I feel! People no longer respect my mental health when they did before! Really weird and fucked up tbh!

2. Strangers are scared of me in public places when I'm alone with them. I know why. I know all about how you won't eat an m&m from a bowl when only a few in the bowl are poisoned. I know about how you'd rather be in the woods alone with a bear than a man. I know why people fear men. But it doesn't stop it from feeling bad because I didn't exactly lose the "target for assault" aspect of being a woman when I transitioned. I just got "is perceived as a threat just for looking masc" added on. Which doesn't make me feel any safer. When I became a man I did not gain any bloodlust, so I don't think the two are intrinsically related... Which brings me to say that I can't imagine growing up while being treated as a threat because other men were bad. Like that alone is a real problem for young boys (especially MOC) who did nothing wrong. At what point is it a self fulfilling prophecy? At what point does being raised as a potential threat make you start feeling that you should just be a threat? Like can we stop.

3. You can't *insert needlessly gendered activity like wearing certain clothing* if you're a guy! Yes, this happened in reverse when I was a girl. Being a man doesn't make it any less annoying. In fact it's even MORE annoying because Nobody goes "oooo youre wearing pants!" to a woman but they definitely will go "ooo you're wearing a skirt!" If you're a man. When I never exactly stopped liking skirts? And that doesn't make me less of a man? But since I transitioned I'm expected to dress as boringly as possible.

This is actually passing advice trans guys will get and I don't know how people don't see a problem with "you must not wear bright colors and look as boring as possible to be seen as a real man" like are we seeing the echo of what cis men are experiencing there? I transitioned and that signed me up to be harassed for wearing the same clothes I was before. That's not ok. That's bad.

4. No more safe spaces. Yes there are trans safe spaces, but those girls only ones? Kiss em goodbye trans boy! Yeah some of them accept trans men, and i know some of you will say "you're a man, you don't need them anymore!" But that makes it function like a punishment for transitioning, and that stance ignores that you don't lose a lot of the oppression you got as a woman when you transition, and it doesn't magically make you feel safe around cis men either. But you're a man now, so you can handle it right???? And If you become a victim of domestic violence as a male passing person, no you didn't, that doesn't happen.

A poor woman must have been just defending herself or it's just "male on male" violence! Why else would there so many women's shelters and very few men's shelters? You clearly can't actually be raped or attacked when you're a man! (sarcasm) And let's not forget that a cis man can be raped and then forced to pay child support to his rapist because its her word against his as well as the whole societal belief that men don't get raped by women. Like c'mon guys.

Good things that happened when I was seen as a man or privileges I benefit from:

1. Other men take me more seriously and that's only if they don't know I'm trans. Yeah mansplaining is real and it doesn't happen between men. I use this privilege to elevate and defer to female voices.

2. Men are now more emotionally open and vulnerable when speaking to me. Before transitioning I was told "you wouldnt get it you're a girl." and they were wrong but I know exactly why that phrase exists now. Having your feelings properly heard out is a girl privilege that I did not know was a privilege until I lost it.

Back at my pet store job I once had a guy confess that his girlfriend called him a baby girl for crying about his turtle dying. "I know guys aren't supposed to cry, I'm embarrassed for crying in front of a girl. I'm supposed to be strong for her." he said.

I told him his girlfriend was being sexist and that all humans cry when they lose pets and the look in his eye when he thanked me told me that he had never been validated by another man like this before.

That to me is a form of oppression. Being taught by the patriarchy that you must suffer in silence because crying is only for girls is a form of oppression men experience. Women may be taught that their emotions drive them to act stupid but they aren't taught not to have them period which I'm sorry I think is much worse.

Even the "privilege" I gained only further exposed that men are indeed uniquely oppressed in certain ways. The patriarchy is bad for everyone of every gender.

"we don't talk enough about the specific oppression that men get for being men" hey tell me if literally everything about your situation was exactly the same except you weren't a man would things be easier or harder for you.

if you were in a group of people that included someone who was stunningly similar to you in every way except they just so happened to be, say, a woman instead of a man, would you have systemic power and privilege over her?

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Morning Routine Pt.2 (Jung Wooyoung) Rated

Part One

Pairing: Videographer! Wooyoung × Camgirl! Reader (Female)

Genre: Smut, Fluff.

Summary: Loving his new job as the videographer for a camgirl, Wooyoung has no idea about the new project she has in mind for her channel.

Word Count: 4.3+K

Warnings: Non-established relationship, p*rn filming, use of sex toys, exhibitionism, voyeurism, masturbation, fingering, handjob, p*rn viewing, unprotected shower sex (always use protection), slight degradation, multiple orgasm (female) these horny mfs can't keep their hands off each other, Y/N has a thing for Wooyoung's arms (who doesn't?)

Taglist: @seacottons @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @galaxteez @multidreams-and-desires @brie02 @deja-vux @couchpotatoaniki @daniblogs164 @a-soft-hornytiny @yunsangoveryonder @minhyukmyluv @nanamarkie @mingismoon @ateezbabysitters

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Wooyoung threw his head back, eyes shut as his mouth uttered out some rather loud and harsh grunts. Tiny sweat beads formed along his hairline, his forehead creasing slightly as he fully immersed himself on stroking his hard length. His head was filled with images of the previous night with his new housemate, images of her dressed in the most alluring black playboy bunny outfit bodysuit, completed with ears, collar, cuffs and everything else. It was like a dream come true, watching her look extremely pretty as she played around with her pussy in front of him as he filmed her. To continue the bunny theme, she had taken out her pink rabbit vibrator, making sure to tease him, and her viewers later, by licking the longer part of the device, covering it in her spit before inserting it inside her tight little hole. Wooyoung would never get the picture out of his head as he witnessed her overstimulating herself over and over until she had tears brimming down her cheeks.

"Oh fuck! Fuck! I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna-" She gasped violently as tiny spurts of her orgasm squirted out, staining the carpet underneath her. Wooyoung didn't even know that she was capable of squirting like that, but it was the most erotic thing he had ever seen before his eyes.

"Holy shit."

Just remembering that image had him holding himself up on the vanity counter with his free hand, the other furiously pumping his shaft with intensity as his white semen started to pour out of him and spill onto the floor. He panted heavily as he came down from his high, chest heaving up before lowering back down. Wiping the sweat off his forehead, he grabbed a couple of tissues and proceeded to clean up the mess he had made, discarding the waste into the basket underneath the vanity. Pulling his pants back up and throwing on his black sweater, he looked at his reflection in the mirror one last time, only needing to fix the part on his growing black hair. Satisfied with how he looked, he came out of the bathroom and picked up his bag that he had laid out on his bed, books and materials ready for the day.

Stepping out of his room, he had to do a step back when a certain feline scared him by her mere presence outside his door, meowing loudly at him, almost like a whine.

"Oh god, don't scare me like that Baby." Smiling he stooped down to try and pet her head, but in her usual fashion, she hissed at him before scurrying off. Wooyoung let out a sigh and shook his head.

"One week after moving here and she still treats me so coldly." He didn't understand what was up with that cat, seemingly warming up to him only to revert back to her aggresive behavior.

As soon as he stepped into the kitchen, his face broke out into a smile as the object of his deepest fantasies and affection was currently standing in front of the sink again, finishing up her task of drying the dishes she had just meticulously washed, wearing nothing but one of his oversized shirts and cotton underwear. Coming up behind her, his hands cupped at her waist as his lips pressed themselves against her cheek.

"Took you a while to come out." She chuckled softly, knowing exactly what he had been doing in the bathroom.

"Morning to you too beautiful." He greeted her, lips pulling away only to dive into the side of her neck.

"Woo, you're going to be late for school." She reminded him yet made no effort to push him off her, enjoying the way his hands caressed her hips too much.

"No I'm not, I still got plenty of time."

Turning her around, he wasted no time in connecting their lips together, parting and closing them over hers in a fervent and needy way. Y/N couldn't suppress a moan when one of his hands dropped in between her thighs and caressed its way up. His palm started to rub her clothed heat, paying close attention to the wet spot starting to form at the bottom of them. Y/N gasped into Wooyoung's mouth when he suddenly slipped his hand inside her panties, fingers immediately working on her clit.

"Wooyoung please.." She whimpered, hands clutching onto his arms. Even through the fabric of his thick sweater, she could still feel the muscles of his strong biceps and that turned her on even more. Her hands grazed across his arms, and Wooyoung chuckled lowly as he knew what she was doing.

"Love my arms babygirl? Yes you do, especially when they're manhandling you down on the bed."

It was a good thing his arms were holding her up because she nearly fell to the floor as her mind recalled all the times she had been pinned down to her bed or to wall by Wooyoung's biceps. It was a borderline fetish now and she was not ashamed of it. Y/N began whining as Wooyoung's fingers continued playing with her little nub.

"Woo..." Her breath hitched, a sign she was about to cum, body growing hotter by the second.....

Until a disgruntled cat broke the two apart, pouncing on Wooyoung from behind as her claws dug into his thighs as they usually tended to do.

"Oh my god Baby would you kindly fuck off?!" Wooyoung exclaimed as he backed away from his lover in pain as he tried to get the Persian cat off his body.

Y/N immediately went over and grabbed her, her master's touch making her calm down and retract her claws enough to pry her off Wooyoung. The poor boy was rubbing on the attacked spot, face grimacing at the dull pain. Looking back, he narrowed his eyes at the cat, who likewise had her pupils turning into slits when she noticed him glaring.

"God dammit, can't even play with my favorite pussy because that demon pussycat wants to be a cockblocker."

As if understanding him, the cat hissed at him once more, body trying to jump out of Y/N's arms and no doubt lunge at the man in front of her.

"Ok ok that's enough. I think you need some catnip to help calm you down." Y/N kissed the top of her pet's head, trying hard to appease her.

"And you should probably start heading to school. Don't waste anymore time."

Wooyoung grabbed his bag again and slumped it over his shoulder.

"Fine, only cause you ask me to."

He came up to try and kiss her goodbye, but when the feline got agitated once more, he decided against it.

"Ok I'll see you later." Wooyoung waved at her.

"Don't forget, we're filming something else later tonight as well." Y/N smirked, petting the top of her cat's head in a comically fashion.

"Oh please, do tell me what my favorite porn star is planning." His teeth tugged at his bottom lip as he stared her up and down.

Holding a finger up to her lips, Y/N giggled.

"It's a surprise and you get to find out when you come back."

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With eyes glued to the screen, Wooyoung continued to edit the video in front of him. He had been so immersed in his other endeavors with Y/N that he had nearly abandoned his other pending projects he needed to turn in. Luckily for him, it was rather easy since they weren't that difficult. The hard part was trying to ignore his classmates that were sitting and hovering around the computer next to him, giggling and snorting amongst themselves.

"Honestly, where's that mean, grouchy librarian when you need her to shut some idiots up?" Wooyoung thought to himself, twirling the pencil that was currently held between his index and middle finger.

Judging by the tiny crowd next to him and the weird moans faintly coming out of the speaker, he knew for sure that they were definitely not watching something family friendly.

"Typical." He mused to himself, humming out a little tune in hopes of drowning out their incessant and lewd chatter.

"Ok but guys, I need to introduce you all to this really hot camgirl I recently found. You won't believe it." One of the older guys named Seonghwa lightly pushed his way in the middle, fingers delicately typing away at the keys in front of him. Scrolling down for a while, he found what he was looking for and promptly clicked on it.

"This was her most recent one. Literally uploaded last night."

Although the volume was turned significantly low so that nobody suspected anything, Wooyoung's ears perked up as they distinguished an extremely familiar voice whispering obscene and dirty phrases towards her audience, ones that had been repeated over and over in his head for a while. Slightly pushing his chair away from the table, Wooyoung leaned back and tilted his head as unsuspecting as he possibly could to look over and get a glimpse of what his classmates were looking at. Just as he suspected, on the screen was none other than his beloved roommate in the attire she had worn the previous night. His face blushed slightly and he quickly looked away, afraid of getting caught looking over at their direction.

"Damn she's smoking hot." A classmate his age, Mingi spoke up.

"You know I'm more of a cat person, but fuck. I'd let that bunny hop herself on my lap and rut her sweet little ass on my cock."

Wooyoung's thumb pressed hard against the pencil he was holding, a tiny vein popping out of his neck that showed his displeasure at hearing such things being said about his fuck buddy.

"Keep dreaming Choi San." Wooyoung muttered under his breath in a passive aggressive tone.

"Ok but seriously, who's the bastard that gets to film her videos?" Mingi asked, a hand coming up to push up the glasses that were falling low on his nose bridge.

"Whoever he is, he's seriously one lucky guy." Seonghwa stated with a gloomy look.

"Yeah. Probably gets to jerk himself right in front of her as he's filming no doubt." San huffed, voice clearly laced with envy.

Wooyoung tried but failed in keeping a straight face, a smug grin appearing on his lips as he continued his task at hand.

"No but I get her to help me out after each session." He seriously wanted to say that out loud, but he contented himself with that knowledge that was a secret between him, Y/N and her cute yet menacing cat.

"Fuck it, I'm subscribing to her channel. Do you know when her next video will be up?" San whipped out his phone, tapping away at the keyboard as he looked up Y/N's camgirl profile on the website.

"I don't know but she's been a lot more active recently, posting a lot more content than before." Seonghwa answered.

"Great, cause I can't wait for her next project."

Wooyoung laughed inside himself when he heard San say that

"Trust me, neither can I...."

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With the camera held in his hands and the all too familiar throbbing inside his pants, Wooyoung kept his gaze locked on Y/N as she was spread across her bed. If he thought she looked stunning the night before, it was nothing compared to what she had on at the moment. Her body was exceptional beautiful in the glittering body chain lingerie consisting of a silver rhinestone bra that had a connecting waist belt with metallic tassels dangling from the ends. To top it all off, not only was her makeup more extravagant than the ordinary, but she had even gone as far as applying sparkling highlighter on some parts of her body like her shoulders, collarbone and the top of her breasts. She truly looked like an ethereal queen, one that many people would love to get a glimpse of up close and personal.

Y/N was a mess of stuttering gasps and whiny moans as she continued bouncing herself on the 8" dildo in between her thighs. She often open her eyes and look at the camera with a hazy look while adding a few comments that were bound to rile her viewers even further.

"I'm so close. I'm gonna cum...." She exhaled deeply, teeth biting harshly down at her lip.

"Are you gonna cum with me?"

Wooyoung felt like he very well could cum untouched just by the sheer sight of her. The dildo was lodged so deep inside of her, one could see it bulge out of her lower abdomen. She herself knew it as well as her hand brushed along the outline of it.

"Your cock feels so good inside me, I don't think I can hold off any longer."

With hands firmly pressed on the mattress to hold her up, she fucked herself so roughly down onto the sex toy, her cries becoming more loud and staggered.

"Oh fuck! Cum with me! Please cum inside this pussy of mine." She pleaded.

She collapsed on the bed after reaching an intense high, her mouth agape as she took in deep breaths to calm her heated body. Reaching down, she pulled out the dildo, a thin clear line of arousal coming out as well. Holding it up, she waved it in front of the camera, knowing fully well Wooyoung had zoomed in close to her face.

"Until next time my darlings." She giggled and gave an expert wink at the lenses in front of her.

"And cut."

As soon as he said those words, Y/N sat up and took hold of Wooyoung's arm rather sharply, pulling him so he could follow her into her bathroom.

"Whoah, still got energy left after that show princess?" He snorted when she closed the door behind them.

Huffing softly, she took the camera out of his hands and carefully placed it on the vanity counter.

"I'm sticky, sweaty and in need of a shower." Within giving any other explanation, she began unzipping Wooyoung's pants and sliding then down his legs.

"And I'm here because....?" Although he knew very well why she dragged him with her, he still loved feigning like he didn't know what she was up to.

"Because showers are a lot more fun when you have company." Looking up at him, she smiled and tapped on the bottom of his shirt, a signal for him to remove it, which he of course did.

After a pile of clothes was accumulated neatly and tossed in a corner, the two individuals stepped inside the glass surrounded shower. Turning it on to a cool temperature, both of them emitted soft sighs at the feeling of the refreshing water pouring down their bodies. Taking hold of her pink and soft sponge, Wooyoung took it upon himself to clean her body of the sparkling residue left from the makeup. Making sure to create as much lather as possible, he began to gently swipe the sponge across her body with slow and gentle movements, being careful with her skin lest he accidentally scrubbed too hard. Y/N would never admit it out loud, but she loved having intimate moments like this with him. Taking showers together just because, without needing anything to happen between them. Cooking together, which she ended up finding out Wooyoung was an above average cook, which added to his fatal charms that had her melting for him. Or just cuddling together on the couch as a movie played, more often than not ending with one of them on the floor after they decided to start play wrestling amongst themselves, both of them in fits of giggles afterwards.

After making sure to cover her body with the floral scented soap, Wooyoung stepped back and moved her so the majority of the shower head was aimed at her, rinsing off the foam around her body. Watching it trail off her figure and down the drain, he let out a satisfied smile at his work.

"All better?"

Instead of answering, Y/N came up to him and rested her head on his chest, eyes closing as her hands took hold of his arms to wrap them around her. Getting the hint, Wooyoung held her body against his, fingers lightly running themselves down her back in soothing strokes. Reaching up, her hands came up to rest against the muscles on his upper arms, fingers tapping against his skin every now and then. Wooyoung couldn't help but laugh softly when he felt her grip tighten around them.

"What exactly is it about my arms that makes you horny over them?" He questioned her.

Frowning slightly, Y/N pulled away to look at him.

"I do not get horny over your arms, excuse me." She defended herself against what she considered to be slanderous talk.

Quirking an eyebrow up, Wooyoung let out a scoff.

"Oh really? Then tell me everytime I wear a sleeveless shirt, you're practically drooling and keep your eyes off them?"

It was a good thing there was water splashing all over them or else Y/N wouldn't have been able to camouflage the subtle blush that appeared on her cheeks.

"I do not." She interjected.

Shaking his head in a teasing fashion, Wooyoung leaned in and pecked her lips.

"Beg your pardon miss, but I've seen the way you eye them, especially during my workouts."

Making sure to flex his muscles, Wooyoung gripped her tighter against his body, pressing her unbelievably close as his arms encapsulated most of her body, leaving her slightly out of breath from the tight squeeze he gave her.

"Is it cause you like having me smother you in an embrace with them?"

Wanting to play around with her even more, he suddenly pressed her back against the tile wall, arms coming down to place themselves at the back of her thighs.

"Or cause you like it when I man handle you like this?"

Y/N groaned when she felt Wooyoung's mouth start pressing kisses along her jaw and neck, tilting it back so he could have more space to work with. He chuckled when he felt her breath hitch.

"You're so easy to rile up beautiful." He pointed out in a cocky manner.

Not wanting to let him get away with his behavior, Y/N slid a hand down his chest before taking hold of his dick, making it spring back to life and get hard once more after forgetting how aroused it was when the cold water splashed onto it. She made sure to pump it vigorously, causing Wooyoung to pull back and moan loudly at her ministrations.

"I could say the same about you handsome. Just one brush of my hand against your thighs and your little friend comes up to greet me."

Closing her lips over his, any sound about to escape was muffled by her tongue which slid its way inside his mouth, massaging itself against his own wet muscle. As one hand continued stroking along his shaft, her other hand came down to cup underneath and fondle his balls. That action further fed his aching need to bury himself inside her wetness.

"Getting a little hot my love? Bothered? I can feel your cock throbbing in my hand." Knowing exactly what she was doing, she squeezed his balls rather hard as her thumb circled around his tip. That and the fact she bit down at Wooyoung's bottom lip was enough to make him lose control of his senses. He could no longer hold back after hours of having her tease him.

Prying her hands off him, he placed one hand on the back of her thigh and wrapped her leg up around his waist, allowing him to slide his length rather easily past her folds to rest inside her heat. Pressing her back against the wall once more, Wooyoung dropped his other hand down to her other thigh.

"Hold onto my arms." He whispered against her ear, a command she didn't need to be told twice as her hands placed themselves on his biceps. Hoisting her other leg around his waist, Wooyoung didn't wait any longer and immediately began slamming his hips into her. Having been sexually frustrated since their interruption that morning, both of them basked in the enjoyment of having their lower bodies connect again.

"Oh fuck- you're still tight even after fucking yourself wide open with that dildo?"

Y/N's hands clung tighter to his arms, nails nearly digging into his skin. Her wails were only half heard due to the pounding of Wooyoung's cock that had her back hitting against the wall behind her, cutting off her sounds midway. The way he gripped at her thighs was so strong that she had no doubt about having purple bruises on those spots for days to come, but she didn't care. Her mind was too focused on the overwhelming feeling of his cock inside her, cries of pleasure echoing through the room.

"You like me fucking you like this baby? Cock deep inside this little pussy of yours?" He taunted her as his timed thrusts continued to impale her tight core, slick and warm walls tightening around his hard shaft.

"Yes! Fuck me just like you are doing!" She exclaimed, eyes looking down to watch as his cock drove out of her only to ram itself back in. At this point she was becoming light headed, feeling intoxicated by the tension building in her body, ready to snap at any moment.

"Fuck! You're gonna make me cum!" She whimpered as she clawed into his arm muscles, making Wooyoung hiss.

"Then fucking cum like the slut you are." He growled against her ear.

With a piercing shriek, her walls tightened unbearably against his length, pulsating as she came hard all over him. Even during the peak of her climax, Wooyoung maintained his pace and harsh pounding, not giving her an ounce of pity to diminish the euphoric sensation overtaking her. Pulling out of her and safely bringing her back down, Wooyoung tilted her chin up so she could look into his lust filled face.

"If you think we're done, you're wrong baby. I'm not quite done with you yet."

Swinging her body to the left, Wooyoung pressed her body up against the clear glass window that covered the shower. Taking hold of her hips, Wooyoung's cock lodged itself inside her warm walls once more, the sound of smacking skin bouncing against the walls. Y/N placed her palms against the clear glass to keep her steady as his hungry cock fucked her in a furious rhythm. She could barely keep her eyes open as she was overly sensitive from not only her previous orgasm but from having played with herself rather intensely during their filming session.

"Fuck- your cock feels amazing." She moaned out in a low and airy tone.

"Yeah? Is it better than all those toys you fuck yourself with?" Wooyoung cooed against her ear.

"God yes! Way better. Wooyoung you fuck me so good." She responded, her wailing becoming higher in pitch as another build up began to rise up in her.

"So good that you'll cum for me a second time? Will you?" Y/N knew that wasn't a request, it was an order, an order that her body couldn't resist fulfilling, especially when the angle his hips hit against her ass had the head of his cock brushing against her g-spot continuously.

"Cum on me one more time beautiful. Let me feel you again."

Falling under the spell of his command, Y/N let out sputters of his name as her legs trembled under her, threatening to give out on holding her up had Wooyoung not had his hands keeping her upright as he kept pushing his cock into her from behind. It wasn't long before he himself felt himself being tipped over the edge.

"Shit! Oh shit!"

With a few more pops of his hips, he was done, spurt after spurt of cum filling her pussy up until it started running down her legs, getting swallowed up and washed away along with the rest of the water pouring out from above them. They both stayed still for a couple seconds, each one trying to catch their breath and steady their heartbeats. Resting his forehead atop of her shoulder, Wooyoung's raspy breaths were the only things she could hear.

"Fuck Y/N....." She let out an involuntary smile when he whispered that, his labored breathing telling her he enjoyed that quite a lot.

Withdrawing himself from between her legs, Wooyoung's dick softening after finally being able to find release in Y/N's body. Making sure to do a final rinse to clean up any leftover cum, Wooyoung turned off the water and carefully guided Y/N out the shower, knowing fully well her thighs were burning after all that.

"Easy there beautiful, don't worry I got you." He smiled ever so sweetly at her as he picked up a towel and draped it over her shoulders. Y/N let out a groan as she reclined back against the counter, exhausted from their intense love session.

"Wooyoung, could you please get me my pajamas and help me dress?" Her bottom lip poked out, voice slightly frigging after having her vocal chords nearly ripped out from all the screaming his cock had her doing.

"Of course beautiful. I'll be right back."

Booping his nose against hers, Wooyoung tied a towel around his waist before scurrying out of the bathroom in search of something comfortable for Y/N to wear. Through pained hisses, Y/N managed to turn her body so she was facing the mirror in front of her. Bending down, her face gave out a tired smile towards the camera that she had placed strategically on the counter beforehand, the tiny red light indicating it had been recording everything that happened in the shower, unbeknownst to her partner who was still in her drawers looking for her clothes. Reaching over, she stopped the film and made sure to save the file, a sly smirk on her face as her mind was already coming up with the title of her next project.

"Fucking my camera boy in the shower without him knowing...."

[juniorgman187]

Any Day Now (Reid Fic)

A/N: Plz imagine being impregnated by season 10 Spencer Reid. WHEWW CHILE

Summary: Reader’s pregnancy finally takes its toll on her, leaving both Spencer and Reader to navigate through rough waters from miles away.  Category: Fluff, Soft-soft-soft angst, One-Shot Pairing: (POV)Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Content Warning: Pregnancy Word Count: 3.2k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

At first, it was nothing I couldn’t handle.

Multiplied mood swings? Understandable, her hormones were everywhere. 

An ever-changing appetite? Great, at least now it wasn’t such a hassle for her to decide where to eat. 

A suddenly much tighter FBI vest? Well, that’s what the adjustable velcro straps were for. 

Again, nothing that I hadn’t already planned for. Even before I delved into parenting books galore, I had a pretty good general idea of what to expect. Not only because of JJ’s earlier pregnancy or Kate’s recent one, but more so because of my extensive knowledge of the human anatomy. This made riding the storm of (y/n)’s pregnancy easier ... until it didn’t. 

It was somewhere in her 35th week that things finally got the best of her. 

There was a linear increase of events that suggested things were taking a turn for the worse, so I slightly anticipated a steep decline to occur at any moment. For instance, soon after (y/n) started showing, I began to lose count of how many times I had to insert my hand between her seatbelt and her bump to create a gap just big enough so that the belt wouldn’t have such a suffocating restriction on her. Nor could I fully account for all the hours of sleep she’d lost tossing and turning, just trying to find a comfortable position where she wouldn’t be crushed by her own weight. And I certainly couldn’t remember, not even with my eidetic memory, how many times she’s almost walked out of the house completely barefoot after getting frustrated with her inability to put shoes on by herself. 

In some sad way, I knew she wished to regain some normalcy in her life. Not that she regretted motherhood, but that she wished she didn’t have to experience so many small inconveniences that summed up to something larger than the life she was helping come into fruition.

She just wanted to drink coffee again without running the risk of a miscarriage. She wanted to climb up a flight of stairs without getting winded by the first few steps. She wanted to put on a tight shirt without looking exceptionally overweight. And most of all, she just wanted to keep working.

If she had to go to hell and back to stay in the BAU while pregnant, then to hell and back she went. 

My wife, as stubborn as ever, had made me - and the entire team - promise not to baby her as soon as we revealed that we were expecting. 

“I don’t want any of that ‘but you’re pregnant’ crap, got it?” She narrowed her eyes darkly at all of us, pointing an accusatory finger. “Anything you can do, I can do pregnant.”

And from that day on, she did what she vowed to do, what I knew she could do. She still chased after unsubs, shot all the bad guys, arrested the felons, but eventually - inevitably - it wore down on her. 

The easiest effect I could identify was her drowsiness. It used to take her a while to fall asleep on the jet, and sometimes, she’d stay awake the entire flight. But after the grueling hours she’d endured during her pregnancy, we would barely board the plane before she knocked out. I think falling asleep in the seats gave her the comfort she couldn’t find lying horizontally in a bed. No one said anything, though, because she’d already made it explicitly clear that she didn’t want us to pay her any special treatment, which I understood. Nobody likes to be pitied, but after today’s incident, this went far beyond pity. 

It was just plain concern. 

“The doctor said I’ll be fine.” She grumbled, waving me away with a flick of her hand. However, seeing as she was currently lying in a hospital bed, donning a gown that only partially hid from me all the wires and pads that stuck to her body to monitor her health and relay it to the machines - she wasn’t fine. And I needed her to know that I wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was the team. (I didn’t tell her this because she would’ve quite literally took my head off, but they were all out there in the waiting room instead of working on the case). 

“Emphasis on the future tense ‘will.’ You will be fine, but right now, you’re not.” I prepared myself to deliver the news I knew she didn’t want to hear. My voice became significantly quieter, reaching such a low decibel I wasn’t sure she’d even hear it, but maybe that was by design. She didn’t want to hear it as much as I hated to say it. “Maybe you should consider going on maternity leave now.”

Immediately, my wife shook her head with the biggest pout I’d ever seen. I could see it in the way her lip quivered that she was about to cry, no doubt because of the hormones, but especially because this job was her last piece of normality. She clung to it because it was all she had left to remind herself that she was still, in some capacity, the woman she was before. 

“Spencer, please.” She begged, as if I could do anything. “I’m not ready to leave yet.” 

I pursed my lips and looked away for a second to hide my own emotions. Seeing her cry was never easy, but being the cause for it made this even harder. I felt the formation of a lump in my throat and the pricking of tears in my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I croaked. “But I can’t let you keep risking your health,” I explained, neglecting to voice the final part of that sentence. ‘Or our baby’s.’ But I didn’t say that. How could I? It would’ve only guilted her further. 

“Your blood pressure’s getting higher,” I explained, keeping my eyes steady on hers, not letting them stray to the machine that she clearly didn’t know how to read. But with one glance at the numbers, I already knew they weren’t good. I didn’t lead on just how bad they were, though. “You fainted today, and if you’d landed even a little bit differently, you would’ve ended up with a lot more than just a few scratches on your stomach.” That was the extent of my guilt-tripping. It didn’t feel right coming out of my mouth, but it was the only way I knew she would understand the severity of the situation. 

“You were already planning on going on maternity leave next week, what’s a few days earlier?” I asked, briefly referring back to her obstetrician’s recommendation of not flying after her 36th week. 

We both agreed that after week 36, she’d take her leave of absence since she couldn’t join us on the jet anyway. It was our ‘compromise.’ If she insisted on still going in the field, then she had to listen to the doctor’s orders and not fly for the last month. 

“Spencer,” She whispered again, this time with tears running down her cheeks at the bat of her eyes. With the pad of my thumb, I gently wiped them away, wishing I’d never caused them to be there in the first place. “I can’t do this anymore.” 

She never let on how difficult things had become for her. She never said it’s too much (and it must be too much some of the time). So when she finally admitted the burden her pregnancy had created, I could already sense its arrival. So without a second wasted, I pulled the guest chair right up next to her bed and sat in it while reaching for her hand. Despite the presence of the pulse oximetry on her index finger, I still took her hand between both of my own, not minding the gap that the device created. 

“You are the strongest woman I know. There aren’t many pregnant women out there who can do what you’ve done these past eight months. They wouldn’t even think of it.” We shared a brief laugh, which lightened the atmosphere enough to encourage me to continue. “You are bearing our child, (y/n). Nobody else gets to do that. Not me. Not another girl. Just you. It’s only you who can truly give for our baby right now and you’re -you’re my girl ... and right now, I need you to take care of our girl, okay?”

She nodded rapidly with still glistening eyes. For the first time, that day, she stopped thinking her job was as an agent and started knowing her job was as a mother. 

And a damn good one at that. 

_ _ _

If there was anything I’d learned over the past years, it was that I should never expect my wife to follow the rules. Today was no exception. 

She should’ve been in bed right now, taking it easy, but instead, she was standing right beside the jet, saying goodbye to each and every one of us before we boarded. 

This would be our first flight without her. 

“You take care, mama, okay?” Morgan told her, kissing her cheek before waving goodbye. 

“I’m gonna miss you so much.” Kate sighed, engulfing (y/n) in a hug that I knew couldn’t have been comfortable with each of their bumps in the way, but they relished in it anyway. If I didn’t know any better, it looked like Kate was about to cry. Maybe that’s because their dynamic was different than any other. Their simultaneous pregnancies meant that they knew one another’s struggles far better than any of us could, so granted, it would be hard for Kate and (y/n) to be away from each other. They’d been in this journey together after all, in a way I couldn’t have been.

“Oh,” JJ sighed happily, taking (y/n) in her arms and swaying gently from side to side. “You are going to be the best mother ever.” 

“Said the best mother ever.” (Y/n) remarked, laughing bittersweetly. It was something in her smile that let me know it was just for show. 

Then, in one of the rarest moments of history, Hotch hugged (y/n), earning a slightly more real smile from her.

“Get some rest. You deserve it.” He whispered. 

Not even a second after they pulled away did Rossi wait to take (y/n)’s face in his hands and plant two kisses, one on either cheek. 

“If you need anything, you call us.” He ordered, mimicking a drill sergeant.

And though, I wasn’t ready, I found myself making my way to her, getting ready for one of the hardest goodbyes. 

She wrapped her arms around my torso and let her head press against my heart. “I don’t know how I’m gonna do this without you.” 

For the first time that night, she wasn’t faking a smile or putting on a face. I knew when she was saying goodbye that she was only laughing and grinning for everyone else, but underneath it all, she was experiencing a great sadness that no one else could understand. Everyone was just as excited as we were for this baby, if for no other reason than I was finally going to have a family of my own. That I’d finally found the people who were going to be there for me forever. And maybe it was that knowledge, the knowledge of how happy this baby made others, was the reason she never let it show just how hard it was for her. Otherwise, it’d ruin the fantasy. And so she wore happiness like a mask to hide the profound pain that would’ve wounded our spirits. 

“Hey, I’m not leaving you forever,” I whispered somberly, hugging her a little tighter. “And if anything happens, I’m just a phone call away.” As much as I tried to believe my words, neither of us could find the truth in it. Even I knew I wasn’t just a phone call away. I’d be miles and miles and miles away from two of the best things that have ever happened from me. 

She inhaled sharply and pulled away from me, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the hope that I hadn’t already seen them. “I should probably let you go now.” She laughed lightly. 

Our bodies parted, but I had yet to let go of her hand. I shook it up and down gently as I told her, “I love you.”

She shook my hand back in just the same manner. “We love you, too.” 

A smile crept onto my face after the immediate realization of what she meant. 

My girls.

At last, when I walked up the steps to the jet, I finally let go of her hand at the last moment possible, and even after we released hands, our arms stayed outstretched for a passing second as the distance between them got further and further. With the warmth of her hand leaving mine vacantly cold, I watched as she replaced it on the very top of her stomach, as if to say, “We’ll be okay.” 

_ _ _

“Reid?” 

I refocused my vision to Morgan who was calling my name. From the look on his face, I realized he probably tried to get my attention multiple times before this. 

“Sorry, what did you say?” I shook my head to clear my mind, but it didn’t work. A part of me was still in another world, lingering in thought. 

My mind would never shut up about her, but it seemed like today, it was firing all these things at me at 2x speed. I couldn’t pinpoint the exact event that I felt guilty for, but really - take your pick. It could’ve been anything, it could’ve been everything. 

It could’ve been the fact that I was here and she wasn’t. It could’ve been the fact that in those last moments I saw her, I realized just how strong she was being this entire time, and how I was asking her to be even stronger, as if the weight of the world wasn’t enough. It could’ve been the realization that she was struggling this entire time, but never asked for help, thinking that she’d be a burden - the very thing she made us promise not to let her be. That is the reason after all, that she told us not to let her pregnancy be an excuse for anything. Because if she didn’t contribute anything, then she’d be holding us back - she’d be dead weight. I knew that, and yet, what did I do?

Nothing. I walked away and boarded that fucking jet like a brainless idiot.

I should’ve stayed with her. 

Morgan’s eyes turned to slits while he tossed the manila folder onto the table, seemingly setting it aside so it wouldn’t be a distraction from his question. “What’s going on, man?” 

I shrugged, pretending not to know exactly what he was talking about. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just zoned out, that’s all.” 

Clearly exasperated, he said, “Come on, man. Don’t do that. Tell me what’s wrong.” 

Whether it was defeat or a sweet surrender, I tucked my hands in my pockets and let my head hang low, eyes glued to the ground. Unexpectedly, I was sniffling and wiping my nose before I could register that tears were already coming. “I’m just worried about her.” 

It felt stupid to admit, especially considering I saw her only 8 hours, 37 minutes, and 12 seconds ago. But the absence of her and our baby was growing more and more apparent with every passing moment I spent in this office without her. Usually, she would be here to keep me company, bothering me while I located the comfort zone - not that she ever really did bother me. I quite liked her presence. 

Sometimes, when I was left alone, the room would get too quiet, and it’d just be me and my thoughts. And maybe she knew how scared of my own mind I was when it wandered, so she never let me be alone with it - never let the room get too quiet. She would talk and talk and talk, and I could never get tired of listening. Her voice was like white noise. If she was here, things would be as they always were. I would be standing at the map, and she’d no doubt be sitting in a chair, rubbing gentle circles around her protruding stomach as I felt her watching me intently. 

“Found it.” I would say, drawing a big red circle around the zone. 

To which she would say, “You’re a genius.” 

Sure, I’ve been called ‘genius’ a million times before, but it never felt the same as when she said it. 

Morgan could see the invisible pain in my chest, and he pulled me in by my shoulder to wrap his arm around me. It might not have looked like it, but it was the most reassuring hug he could’ve given me. I can’t explain it, but it felt like (y/n)’s warmth and love had possessed his body and he was radiating it now. 

“I know it’s scary, man, and honestly, we all wish we could be with her right now. But trust me when I tell you she’s not alone.” He treaded carefully with his words, and I could tell there was something he wasn’t saying but that wanted me to figure out.

I didn’t even have to verbalize my question because soon enough, when Morgan pulled back, his phone began to ring.

“It’s Garcia.” He told me, though he didn’t answer the call, which was weird enough. But then he gestured to the computer on the table, and so I half-heartedly watched as the screen changed from the blue background to a video call with Garcia. 

And who else would be sitting beside her but my wife?

“Look who I’ve got with me!” Garcia squealed, clapping her hands together excitedly.

“You’re supposed to be on bedrest.” I playfully scolded her.

“I was! I was, I promise. But after I said goodbye to you guys, I went home and got four hours of sleep, and then I went to my doctors appointment, but then when I was driving home, I thought why would I go back there when I’ve got everything I need right here?” She motioned around Garcia’s lair, even lifting up a hospital-go bag that Penelope no doubt compiled just for her. If there was anyone I trusted to take good care of her, it was Garcia. 

Like I said before, I learned to expect (y/n) not to follow the rules. So naturally, she found a way to still work even on maternity leave. 

At this point, the rest of the team neatly filed into the room, erupting in cheers of excitement at the sight of (y/n) in the bat cave. 

“Is everything okay?” JJ worriedly asked. 

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine! Baby looks good, my blood pressure’s getting better, so we’re doing okay.” She smiled proudly, and so did I. That was her first appointment on her own, and though it couldn’t have been easy, especially this late in her term, she did it anyway. Because that’s my girl.  

“When are you due, again?” Kate asked (y/n), earning an enthusiastic, “Doctor says if she’s on time, New Year’s Eve!” 

It never failed to make me smile whenever she brought up her due date. She was always excited to proclaim that our daughter might be brought into the world at the exact time we brought in the new year. 

“But if I’m early, it could be any day now.” She explained. 

Here’s where I had to cut in. “Hopefully not any day now! I don’t wanna miss it.” 

“You won’t!” She promised through a wide grin.

Something else you should know about my girl? She always keeps her promises. 

And on January 1, at exactly 12:00 - just as promised - I had the privilege of watching (y/n) deliver a healthy 6 pound and 9 ounce baby girl.

The weight of my whole world.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

Can you tell I love it when someone says “my girl”? I think that’s my favorite pet name ever. 

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[lady-of-lyon]

So, I made one post a while back about how awesomely feminist the show Wild Kratts was, with how its two main female characters were women of color in engineering and deserving roles of power, female villains who weren’t motivated by spite or quest for youth, etc, but today I wanted to talk about something slightly different, that I’ve wanted to cover for a while now, because I also think it’s very good - and that’s how the show portrays masculinity, in a way that’s really positive!

First, we have our two main characters, Chris and Martin Kratt. Keep in mind these two are basically self-inserts - and there are plenty of creators, especially males, who have used self-insert characters in really scummy ways - all I have to say is Powerpuff Girls reboot and you know exactly what I’m talking about. Even if they weren’t literal self-inserts, male characters, superheroes especially, oftentimes serve the male power fantasy, being just the strong, stoic, all-powerful person so many boys are told they’re supposed to be. I could get into a whole discussion about how the male power fantasy is present even when males are not (ever look through a fashion magazine and wonder why there are so few men? Sure, part of it is that the industry thrives off exploiting women’s insecurities, and men aren’t as concerned for their appearance, but another part of it is so that the guy, looking through it, can feel like he has no competition for these women - there’s a reason so many comedians have jokes about fashion magazines being their sexual awakening as kids. It’s really scummy) but that’s not what this is about. So, the bros had every opportunity to do just that - make themselves these traditional heroes who aren’t actually really good role models, like batman or what have you. It’s certainly not uncommon for celebrity cartoons to do stuff like that. But Martin and Chris chose a different approach. They’re pretty strong standouts for positive masculinity. They’re openly affectionate - both with eachother as brothers, and with their friends. They cry, sometimes over little things - most of the time when big superheroes cry, it’s ‘cause they lost the girl they loved or their mentor or something like that, only in the big, most agonizing moments do they shed a tear. But here, Chris or Martin will cry just because they’ve had a bad day, or because they’re overwhelmed and overjoyed that someone named a mantis after them! In a lot of shows or movies when a guy cries over something little, it’s usually played for laughs, or to emasculate him, but here it’s casual without being unreasonable or overdone. The brothers cry just ad much, maybe even more (haven’t gone back and counted or anything) as the girls do. Not to mention, it’s a very nice depiction of a loving, healthy sibling relationship. As the youngest sibling myself, it’s refreshing to see a pair who don’t abuse eachother with noogies or cruel and snarky remarks. When they do fight, it’s never a screaming match, and also because they had a conflict of interest or disagreed over a fact, not because, say, one of them stole the other’s shirt or is neglecting the other’s feelings. Kids, being very impressionable, get exposed to a lot of abusive sibling relationships played as normal in media, and start thinking this is how siblings are and should act. For instance, my sister (who is now my best friend and has gotten over all these bad habits over time) when she was younger watched a lot of Kim Possible, a show that is great, but has a bad family dynamic with Kim and her little siblings. The “tweebs” as she calls them are always irresponsible, destructive, and making Kim annoyed to no end. My older brother was one of the most polite, reserved, kind little kids, but she still treated him like he was a brat and a nuisance, because that’s what shows like Kim Possible taught her little brothers were. Additionally, I was always treated like a spoiled crybaby who just wanted attention and got away with everything - I was not any of those things, ever, but that’s what shows teach you little sisters are. Sure, Wild Kratts has a smidge of that, with Chris seemingly being the stereotype of the know-it-all little sibling, but instead of being constantly looked town upon for being too “perfect” like with Hailey Long in American Dragon, Martin often praises his brother for his abilities. Sure, Martin gets annoyed when Chris tries to correct him on things, like in the episode Wolf Hawks, but everyone else does too, so it feels more like a take-down of mansplaining than a sibling spat.

I talked too in the feminist post about how refreshing it is that Chris and Martin more or less willingly put themselves under the authority of Koki and Aviva, two women of color. I don’t think it’s possible to say any one character is the “leader,” they all work as a evenly balanced team, but it’s safe to say that Koki and Aviva make the more responsible decisions. The bros try to get out of their calls a few times, but the show plays it more like they’re being irresponsible, and less like they’re renegade cool dudes who don’t take nothing from nobody, especially not two girls. They are pretty much always punished via karma for their reckless choices, most especially in To Touch a Hummingbird, where their arrogant attitudes blow up in their faces rather spectacularly. We also never see the narrative most present in sitcoms, where the male leads mess up and go out of their way to cover it up and ultimately gets away with it - after all, you have to root for them, right, because sure they messed up and had no consequences, but aren’t they just so lovable? No, here Martin and Chris always have to fix their wrongdoing, and it’s always deserved when they get comeuppance. Another aspect of the show I like is that, many times, when the bros get captured or are in peril, they are saved by the women - and most refreshing of all, there’s never a moment of “wink wink nudge nudge wow I can’t believe I had to be rescued by a GIRL” or even “wow you saved me you’re pretty good honey guess I shouldn’t have underestimated you, you go girl!” No, when the girls save them, it’s just - you know, relief? Because they were saved? It’s never a scenario played as an exception, or any more dire than when the bros need to rescue eachother. The bros are genuinely happy to have them as teammates. The show even did the standard “boys vs girls” episode in the form of When Fish Fly - but instead of being actually girls vs. boys, it’s engineers vs. adventurers. There’s nothing really gendered about it - the girls happen to be engineers, and the boys happen to be adventurers. And the episode doesn’t end with the boys being “wow gosh darn I shouldn’t have doubted you girls are better at everything,” it’s a mutual agreement that both parties have hard jobs. Basically, the bros are very naturally respectful of women. That plays more into their feminist narrative too, but either way, it’s refreshing.

Then, we have Jimmy! Jimmy, the lovable gamerboy pizza man. At first glance Jimmy seems like the stereotypical cowardly, pathetic, emasculated loser. He’s frightened of most things, as of yet has no power suit, and he BAKES for crying out loud! But none of these things are framed as terribly bad traits. Sure, we laugh when he screams and runs from an animal, but though it happens over and over, the crew doesn’t get sick of it. They don’t berate him or belittle him because he’s so gosh darn cowardly. There’s a great scene in Rattlesnake Crystal where Jimmy has to deliver something to the bros alone, in the middle of a spooky desert. He is terrified the whole time, sprinting off after he delivers the goods. When Martin and Chris run into him, they don’t laugh at him for being spooked, they just greet and then bid fair well to their friend. To them, this is just Jimmy, and there’s nothing wrong with it. Jimmy isn’t coddled, but he is reassured many times that he’s a valuable member of the team. I love that little message, that you’re just as important of a person even if you can’t do as much or have greater limits. When his friends do try to get him over his fears, it’s not because they have to, that the day will somehow be ruined by Jimmy’s incompetence p, but because they’re his friends, and want him to experience fun and wonderful things that he would otherwise miss out on. But what Jimmy CAN do is just as important! Jimmy is a gamer, which in a lot of shows, is portrayed as a lazy, useless, mindless hobby. But here, because he plays video games, it makes him essential for piloting the ship and teleporting important items. There’s always the joke that video games improves your hand/eye coordination, but recent studies have shown it has much better effects. It can make you much better at keeping track of multiple moving objects and processing technical but variable information- two traits which, fittingly enough, are really really important for air traffic controllers and airplane pilots! He also demonstrates a lot more courage behind the wheel of the Tortuga, which makes sense - in an impersonal setting, he would have more sense of calm and control and courage, because it’s so similar to a video game world. It’s not all too different with how I feel more emboldened to pick fights with people on the internet, but get crazy anxious if a real person so much as looks at me. So Jimmy’s love of video games isn’t because he’s irresponsible, it has real benefits. A quick last point - Jimmy also eats a lot, but they thankfully don’t make him fat or greedy or anything like that. He never takes food from people, he actually bakes, and shares it with others! Having the baker be a boy is a lovely touch.

I might do another post about the toxic masculinity of the two villains, (or four villains, I guess, if I wanna discuss the minions) but I’ve got other work to do, and this post is long enough already, so I’ll get around to it later. I’ll sum it up with this - Wild Kratts is a show that teaches boys it’s not only ok to be kind, but essential. The brothers protect defenseless animals, advocate for things “icky” and “weird,” like bugs or snakes or worms - not because they’re boys, and boys like icky things, but because they genuinely see the beauty in all life, and are encouraging us to slow down and do the same. The Wild Kratts are heroes who save the world not by being the strongest or smartest or coolest, but by looking after those who are exploited and vulnerable, who are essential to the world, even if they can’t always do everything. In Wild Kratts the only weaknesses a man can have isn’t what he can’t do, but what he does do that he shouldn’t have. Sure, it’s a cute show about two funny guys who have cool powers, but it’s also a show about accountability, compassion, respect and trust. The show says “boys will be boys” in all the right ways - Martin is a lovable goof with a heart of gold, but he still has to get his act together when he messes up, and he’s still creative and smart and openly sensitive. Chris is a bit of a know-it-all show-off, but he can also mess up as much as his brother, and is still bold, brave, adventurous, and can put his money where his mouth is. Jimmy is a cowardly, napping, eating machine video-gamer, but he’s still a valued member of the team, has incredible skills and talents, and will always help his friends, even if he is really, really scared. It is so important to have role models like these, in a world dominated by unhealthy machismo. The Wild Kratts are heroes who save the world - both animated, and real.

All they need now is a canon queer character, and I’ll stan them forever! My money’s on Aviva!!

[hopespeak-hs-hostclub]

Wanna Make A Bet?: A Mondo Owada smut request.

18+ ONLY. DO NOT READ IF UNDER 18!!!!!

NSFW: request and story under cut

TW:// exhibitionism, public pleasure, chastity belts, orgasm deprivation, cursing

Word Count:// 1,976

“a one-shot featuring mondo oowada practicing exhibitionism please? In the story, he'd go to town to do errands wearing a face mask. In truth, he'd have a vibrator on him with his cock in chastity and his mouth tape gagged under the mask. His objective is to finish his errands without anyone exposing him or him cumming in public. And I kinda imagine that he's doing this out of a dare between his gang members. To show he's a real man whose in control of himself. He would mainly be alone but his gang leaders would look from a distance to see if he hasn't lost yet.”

“Wait bro, you’re what?” One of the guys piped up quickly. Mondo just sighed heavily and look his friend / gang member in the eyes and repeated himself. “I’m an exhibitionist, man.”

“What the fuck is that??” Another gang member asked almost instantly.

“Jesus Christ- fuck all of you,” Mondo said getting pissed off at his friends. “I told you that sitting around like a bunch of little bitch ‘drinking and talking about our feelings‘ or whatever the fuck was fucking stupid.”

“No come on bro, none of us have literally ever even heard of that before”

“Fuck, it just means I like the idea of people seeing me get off, I guess?” Mondo said sharply looking at all his friends sitting around him. “like I get off on it I fucking guess.”

“So like, you want to jack off in public?” One of them asked.

“I’ll kick your fucking ass bro- that’s nasty dude. I’d never want anybody unsuspecting to fully see it dude, christ” Mondo stood up out of his chair and looked at them all. “You’re so fuckin dumb- all of ya! I don’t wanna be put on a damn sex offender list for touching myself in the goddamn park or something! I just… want to get off in front of people. It seems fucking hot,” he admitted while shrugging.

A few of the guys exchanged glances, and started to mumble to each other, just soft enough that Mondo couldn’t make out what was being said until they all looked back at him. “Wanna make a bet?” One of the guys asked as he stood up to be eye level with their gang’s leader.

“How much? And what kinda bet we talkin?” Mondo asked, admittedly intrigued.

“20,000¥. Meet us back here tomorrow at noon. Got it?”

Mondo just rolled his eyes. “Whatever, but I got some fuckin errands to run so you better make it quick, got it assholes?” He made eye contact with everyone else in the room, as they just snickered at him.

And that’s how he got here. In the bathroom of the garage the gang always meets at. Mondo sighs and looks in the duffel bag his friends tossed into his arms when he walked in, with no instructions further than “put it all on and get back out here.” ‘How did they even get all this stuff so last minute? Did they already have it?” Mondo thought to himself. So he did. He started by putting on, and locking, the chastity belt, which made him just a little too excited. Mondo hasn’t ever actually used a chastity before, he just knows they’re supposed to make him last way longer since he can’t touch himself, and he knows it’ll keep him nice and hard. Then he decided to use the duct tape, and gag himself with it, keeping his mouth shut. The next logical move for him was to put on the black face mask, so nobody could see the tape gag situation he had going on. All this for ¥20,000? ‘Fuck me’ was all he could think right now. Then the last step. Mondo held the little remote controlled vibrating butt plug in his hand and just stared at it for a few minutes before inserting it. He didn’t turn on it yet, and he was nervous as shit to do it too.

Mondo slowly and carefully walked out of the bathroom to the main room where everyone was waiting for him. He was already getting hard, and knew that whatever the fuck this was, was going to be a fucking nightmare. “Bro, everything… in place?” One of his gang members asked cautiously. The gagged Mondo just shook his head up and down quickly. “Perfect! So, you wanna get off in front of people without being put on a list?” His friend taunted. Mondo blushed, but luckily you couldn’t tell through the mask. “Well, I know you said you had some errands to run today, so why don’t we see if you can get through all those- but maybe without cumming,” he teazed. Mondo got wide eyed. So now, not only is he going to be horny as hell in public, but he’s not allowed to finish until the fucking errands are done? His face turned red and he tried to scream at his gang, forgetting about the gags, which just left him muffled and even more pissed off. Quickly Mondo got out a piece of paper and wrote:

“You’re fucking ON assholes.”

That’s exactly what they wanted to hear. “Perfect. Let’s get you on the back of a bike, because face it man, you can not drive with all that shit on ya,” the gang member chuckled. “I will be close behind watching though- so you better not cheat or try to lie, because trust me, I’ll fucking know. Oh and you’re giving me the key to that belt. It’s not coming off,”

With that, Mondo handed his gang member the key, then pulled himself onto the back of his bike, and the two of them rode off to the market place. As they pulled up to the big parking lot, the gang member cracked a small smirk, and got off the bike with Mondo. “All right, go do your shopping or whatever the fuck you gotta do man. I’ll keep my distance, but I’m watching you.” He said as he headed off into the crowd of people, leaving Mondo there alone. With a deep breathe in, and reaching into his coat pocket, he pressed the button to the remote control that little plug he had shoved up his ass. He set it to a low setting for now, and walked up to the first shop he had to go to. He took a deep breath and walked through the supermarket doors.

Mondo was walking through the fruits and vegetables section of the store, with his cock as hard as ever. Another man needed to grab something on the shelf right in front of Mondo, so he moved over to allow the man some space- and when he did his vibrator shifted just a little and he accidentally slipped. “Mmmh” he hummed lightly, quickly trying to turn it into a cough so the man next to him didn’t suspect anything. But Mondo loved the way he just felt. He reached his hand into his pocket and put the vibrator on a medium pulsating setting, that made him even hornier than before, if that’s even possible.

“Hnnnnnnngh” Mondo moaned lowly. He wanted to scream, his body felt amazing. He caught a woman shoot a side eye at him but she turned away and went about her business. Mondo tried his absolute best to compose himself, straightened up the best he could, and walked into the aisle he had come to the store for.

‘I just need 3- oh my fucking god” Mondo thought to himself. He quickly hunched over and grabbed onto the nearest shelf to catch his breath and control himself. He wanted to touch himself so badly, but with the belt that wasn’t even possible. “Hmm..” Mondo moaned out a few times. “hmmmf…” He already wants to turn the vibrator up to max speed, but he knows he’ll be a cryong mess if he does that. He only has one more thing to do once he’s done with the store, he can last till then, he thinks. He slowly makes his way through the aisle, grabs the three items he needed for his apartment, and tries to go pay. But god the line is long today. He has no choice but stand there and wait. Every time the line moved a little and he was forced to take a small step forward, his vibrator hit him in just the right spot to make him a god damn mess. ”nmmm… fuh..” he started to moan out in the still long line. He knew nobody could hear him, or cared but he was so embarrassed. The line moved once again, and this time his vibrator hit his prostrate in the exact right spot. A few tears formed at the corner of Mondo’s eye as he actively restrained himself from moaning out in pleasure.

Finally it’s his turn to check out and pay. He reaches into his jackets pocket to grab his wallet, but when he does, he bumps the button on the remote. “Haaaaahh…”Mondo hisses loudly as he arches his back a little. He took a few deep breaths, then pretended to finish a pretty unbelievable sneeze and proceeded to pay. The moment the cashier gave Mondo his change, he grabbed his stuff and ran to the nearest public restroom. He swiftly locked the door behind him and gripped onto the side of the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. He tried to palm himself through his pants, but the metal belt covering his fully erect dick gave him absolutely no direct contact with his throbbing cock. He starts whimpering loudly- but it’s not too loud thanks to his gag and mask. “Mmmmmh,” “hmmm hoh my god ffff-“ he barely muttered out. Mondo wanted to scream, or cry, or just touch himself once, so desperately. He felt like he was close to cumming from the vibrator alone. “Hnnnng” he cried out.

Mondo decides to try and stand up so he could leave the bathroom as quickly as he can, and find his way back to the bike. His gang member wasn’t too far behind him, so when they were both at the bike a few moments later, and Mondo hopped on without so much as saying a word, the gang member knew what was going on. He got in the front and took Mondo straight to the garage and tossed the key to him. “Ffnk you” Mondo muttered quickly as he ran to the bathroom he immediately ripped the mask and duct tape off of his mouth and moaned out loudly. “Holy fuccccckkkkk mmmmhhh…” He didn’t care that some of his friends were just a few rooms away and might be able to hear him. He just knew he felt so good and couldn’t help himself. Next was obviously the belt restricting him from touching himself. With a shaky hand, he unlocked it as fast as he was able too- which admittedly took about 3 minutes because of the constant pleasure he was feeling. Once the belt was off, Mondo immediately wrapped his hand around his now swollen, throbbing cock. “FUCK!” He shouted out in pure ecstasy and bliss. He was nothing but a mess of whimpers, cries, and moans in that moment. He knew he wasn’t going to last very long, so he quickly removed the vibrator, and fell to the floor. Mondo pumped his length a couple of times before he felt his orgasm quickly approaching. With one more stroke, he screamed out in pleasure “FUCK ME” and threw his head back as the white liquid oozed out of him, coating his hands, stomach, and thighs. He kept pumping himself slowly as more cum came out of him. “Mm…” he whimpered softly as the last of it came out. With shaky legs, Mondo pulled himself up off the floor, cleaned himself to the best of his ability, put all his clothes back on, and walked (even though it was more like a limp) back into the main area of the garage.

Without saying a word, or making eye contact with anybody, Mondo grabbed ¥20,000 and placed it in his buddy’s hand. He immediately walked out of the garage, barely got on his bike, and went home, thinking about not only just how fucked up his gang is, but how goddamn fun today was for him.

‘Maybe if I ever meet a chick we can do this shit together…’ Mondo thought to himself with a smirk.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Persephone’s Symphony | Day One | Hades

Hey lovelies— here is the next part! I wanted to pause here and add a little note: the word tiny is thrown around here. I don’t want this to hinder anyone of you to not read this because you think the word doesn’t apply to you. I want to make a couple things clear. 1) All shapes and sizes are beautiful and I, myself, am a wonderfully plump lady. 2) I don’t use the word as a physical description in a way meant to limit a ‘reader insert’ type of fiction— I use it because Bucky Barnes is a super soldier and anyone would be small to him. Thus I hope you can enjoy it the same way I can— because sometimes we all just need to feel like a super soldier could rip us in half. Stay safe my lovelies and please do enjoy!

Synopsis: In which he is the bad one— the dangerous one, the clunky one, the one who only knows how to break things— and she is the good one— the fragile one, the soft one, the one who knows how to put things back together— and he has to keep her alive long enough for anyone else— anyone who can do more than kill— to save her like she deserves to be saved— to save her from him. There are no pomegranates, no three headed dogs, and no requirement to stay— that is, if they don’t count an assassin on the loose out for her neck. In that case, three days in a safe house doesn’t feel like a long time— just long enough for Persephone and Hades to remember why opposites attract.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (third person)

Warnings: some angsty moments but overall no warnings

Word count: 4.1k

Previous | Next

Master List

She’s tiny. That’s the only thing he can think for the first couple hours. She is so damn tiny and fragile and soft and he doesn’t know how to be around a human that tiny and fragile and soft. Maybe it’s worse because he has to keep this tiny human alive. He hasn’t had to do that before— all the other tiny people in his life have been perfectly capable of keeping themselves alive. Even Steve all those years ago, when he only came up to his shoulder—barely— would have fought tooth and nail to stay alive. Even then it always felt like Bucky was just there in case. Maybe that was just Steve though.

He blinks— he doesn’t want to think about the man right now. He can’t afford to get lost in his head. Gods only know if he starts thinking about those days— the ‘good’ old days— he won’t stop. Maybe not for days. Maybe because they’ll remind him that he’s not supposed to be here— that he isn’t made to keep tiny, gentle, grilled cheese cooking, question asking things alive. Usually he’s the one hindering people from being alive— hindering life itself. Usually it doesn’t bug him this much but he can’t help but equate the girl in the Caltech hoodie with life—

“Is what they say about New York pizza true?”

— And himself with death.

“S’alright— Chicago is better.”

He watches as she flips through a book that she had picked up off the coffee table a few minutes ago. The Big Book of Dogs. Is he supposed to laugh at that? She is— giggling and flipping through pages upon pages of puppies. It isn’t aimed at him, her musical, soft sounds. She isn’t laughing at him. It only feels like she is. He’s learned to separate the difference these days— it’s just in his head. Still, he has to turn away from her, using the guise— his job— of being a bodyguard to keep his gaze moving.

From the corner of his eye he watches as she lowers the book, peaking over at him from behind a peppy looking Alaskan Malamute— yes, he knows his dogs. He is one, after all.

“You know, I think there are quite a few people who disagree with you on that one.”

Bucky pretends to ignore the way she quirks a brow at him, her eyes drifting back to the page. He also ignores the way his heart spikes at the little movement. Snap out of it, Barnes. He stands, stalking to the living room window and pulling back the heavy green curtain. Nobody is out there— he didn’t expect there would be someone, he just needed to move. How many more hours?

“Thought you were asking me.” He quips, staring out towards the bayou where the water has turned grey and choppy.

He watches as the rain pours down the window pane, tap tap tapping in front of his nose as the sunlight surrenders to the misty storm clouds. As much as he hates to admit it, Wilson was right— the rainy season’s rolling in on the dot. Even he is starting to feel the effects, his bones beginning to leaden.

As if on cue, she yawns, setting down The Big Book of Dogs and curling her legs into her chest, hiding them beneath the mountain of fabric she wears. “I was gauging. Consider it a test.”

Bucky huffs— not sure if he’s annoyed because of her questioning or because of how, despite the tension still laced through his shoulder blades like sailors knots, he isn’t that bothered by it. Annoyed because he isn’t annoyed— that’s a first. He lets the curtain drop again and turns to the TV where Netflix lays open but unused, blocking out one mind numbing haze for another. What would they even watch together?

“Oh yeah? Did I pass?”

Maybe some cheesy sit-com. That feels harmless enough and he’s been catching up on a few of them. Some of them even make him laugh. Maybe that’s in poor taste though. He’s never had to deal with someone else’s grief before— he rarely deals with his own as is.

“Maybe it would be better to just not ask that.”

He doesn’t think before he says it— he doesn’t have time to, it slips out before he can grab it and shove it back in his stupid, sentimental mouth. “You sound like Steve.”

Fuck. Her head pokes up, her doe eyes somehow managing to meet his gaze despite how hard he tries to force his neck to turn in the other direction. How does one person look so soft? He can see the question in her eyes, the way they spark with intrigue. He watches in slow motion as her lips— not glossy like they had been in the picture but still just as pink— peel apart.

“Who’s Steve?” Her voice is too sweet— too sincere. Like she actually doesn’t know. Then again, maybe she doesn’t— they never really used his name.

Bucky can’t answer. It’s too early and Steve is too long of a story. One hundred years worth of story, to be precise. How is he supposed to fit all of that into one answer? He can’t. He can’t answer but he can’t not answer either— not when she’s looking at him like she wants to know every little thing about him.

Bucky can’t answer so he doesn’t answer. “You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”

She sinks back against the leather cushions, pulling her hands into her sweater. He almost curses when she curls her knees closer to her body. He can’t really see them from under her hoodie but he can see the movement— the way she wraps her arms around her legs so that she looks like a tiny blob of fabric and a head. His chest squeezes at the sight of her pulling away from him. Can he ever say anything right?

He told Wilson— he told him that he wouldn’t be a good fit for the job. What, a man like him? Man, dog, wolf, asshole. What’s the difference? He was right, that’s all that matters. It’s been all of five hours and he’s already making her uncomfortable all because he can’t—

“You’re the one who brought it up.” She grumbles, her soft— less sweet— voice pulling him from his unintentional staring contest with her forehead. His neck flushes with heat. Shit.

Bucky sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I know it’s just— it’s a long story, doll.”

Again, it just slips out. Instead of wanting to push the word back into his lips this time, though, he wants to punch himself in the mouth. Doll? Really? He watches as her eyes blow wide, his stomach sinking when her pink lips peel apart again, her jaw going slack but none of her honeyed words coming out this time. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Immediately he begins running through apologies in his head. Of course none of them are actually worth their weight— not in gold or anything else. Not even in the energy it would take to say them. What’s he supposed to say? Sorry the last time I spoke to a woman was eighty years ago. That would be even more explaining. Damnit, Bucky!

He tries not to groan out loud, clenching his jaw, still staring into her eyes. Look away, you idiot! He can’t. He’s about to say something— or maybe he’s about to literally throw himself out the window, he isn’t exactly sure which is going to play out just yet— but before he can do either the delicate girl in the Caltech sweater speaks first.

“I— erm—” she squirms in her seat but her eyes stay latched on him the entire time— maybe she’s a fighter after all— “we have time?”

For a moment he just stares at her, lost in the way her nose scrunches, her lips pressing together like she’s the one who said something out of line. Like she, too, is contemplating punching herself in the face. That’s when he caves. It’s to save her from a broken nose. He repeats it like a mantra. He isn’t giving in because he’s weak, he’s giving in because it’s his job to make sure she’s safe— even from herself.

He takes a step forward, only now realizing he’s been standing in the middle of the room the entire time. Has he always been this fucking awkward? Nodding his chin towards the floor, the space in front of where she’s perched, he shoots her a look he can only hope resonates as something along the lines of ‘can I sit?’. She nods and he lowers himself to the ground in front of her, leaning against the side of the couch as gently as the super soldier can muster. Despite his efforts he still lands with a thud, the couch shifting backwards a couple inches. It’s not terrible— she only slightly flinches this time and he only kind of wants to bury himself alive.

“Not that much time—” he watches as her face drops, the way her her cheek twitches like she's sinking her teeth into it, and he hurries the rest of his sentence— “but if you ask—” he tries for a smile that feels more like the right side of his face seizing than anything— “then I’ll answer.”

He waits for a beat, his gaze locked on her hands which she pulls from her sleeves only to twist together again. He has to stop himself from looking down at his own hands— from thinking again about how fragile and delicate she is. He doesn’t have to look to know that both of her hands could fit in one of his. Especially his special hand. She hasn’t asked about it. A few times he’s caught her peeking at it, no doubt a million questions swirling behind those wide eyes of hers, but those are questions she has kept to herself. He wouldn’t blame her if she did ask, though— or if she was terrified.

“Alright,” his eyes flick back to her face, meeting her determined stare and avoiding the way his chest lightens, “deal.”

He nods.

“But—”

Oh no.

“You have to ask me things too. It’s only fair— that way we both know things about each other.”

It’s only fair. He doesn’t know what to say. Again. It seems that every time he feels like he’s beginning to figure her out he gets shoved on his ass. Literally— he is quite literally on his ass right now. All because of what? A little girl? A little girl with small hands and a stare worse than his?

A little girl who thinks he of all people deserves fair. He knew life was cruel but this is worse— this is evil.

“Ask away.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Wait, wait, wait— you can’t be serious!”

Her giggles sound more like music than laughter to him. Usually he hates music— the newer stuff at least, maybe Wilson was right; maybe he is an old man— but this is bearable. This is mesmerizing.

He glances up at her from over his shoulder, fighting the same smile that’s been threatening his lips for the better part of two hours now. He isn’t sure why exactly he does it. Maybe because he knows it would be nothing compared to hers. Maybe it’s because it doesn’t deserve to be compared to hers. He isn’t a religious man but it feels blasphemous to even suggest he could exist with a margin of the sanctity she exudes. He’s committed many sins— that he can say with certainty— but to propose that he is the same as her would be the worst one of all.

Of course, that doesn’t stop him from soaking up every pious laugh into his wicked skull— he isn’t a perfect man, after all.

“Deadly serious. Steve was pissed at me for weeks. How was I supposed to know she had a husband?” He is rewarded with more giggles, ones that set his chest on fire.

Is that what happens when demons spend too much time around angels— they start to burn?

She pulls the blanket she acquired around an hour ago over her face, muffling her laughter much to his dismay. “You could have asked her!”

Bucky lifts a shoulder before letting it flop back down again. “You’re right.”

This is how it has gone since he proposed she ask him questions. She asks him her question— usually something light and easy— favourite color, favorite food, what was the last thing he bought. That one threw him for a loop but he answered anyway— Chinese food. She had giggled at that. You don’t seem like a Chinese food kind of guy. She’s not wrong. That is usually what she does after the questions, though— giggles. Giggles and teases him. Tortures him. Same thing. He doesn’t even think she knows what she’s doing.

Then, of course, he asks her questions of his own. They’re pretty much the same— favorite animal, middle name, what Passadena is like. Warm and busy. That was her answer— he’s never been to SoCal so who’s to say whether or not she was telling the truth. He really doesn’t care. He was more paying attention to the timbre of her voice— the way she makes normal words sound important. He didn’t know he could be so enthralled listening to someone talk about a cat named mittens.

For the first hour or so it was questions like that. The easy, no commitment kind. He wouldn’t have minded if they had stayed like that but, as he kept answering, she had grown more and more confident. Honestly, he didn’t mind that either. It was interesting to watch as she became comfortable around him. Well, more comfortable than before— more comfortable than he would have thought she could be around a guy like him. Her knees eventually pushed out of that hoodie and she relaxed into the couch. It was strange— completely and utterly strange.

By the second hour she had braved the first of many hard questions. It wasn’t what he thought it would be— still nothing about his arm— it was nothing close to that, actually.

It was about his mother.

Maybe it wasn’t supposed to be a hard question but it was, unexpectedly so. His mother. He hasn’t thought about his mother in years. Longer. Decades. He wasn’t expecting to feel so guilty about it but there he was, feeling like his throat was being crushed, while describing to the tiny, lovely girl— who has just lost her own mother— his mother’s lily of the valley perfume. He assumed that’s why she asked— because she misses her mother. He doesn’t blame her. He just never thought that he would miss his mother, too, today.

The rest weren’t as bad as that one. They still made his jaw ache, sure, but not like that. The ones about Steve were the only ones remotely comparable. How did you meet him? What was he like? What’s your favourite story with him in it? That was the last question— the one that made her giggle herself into a half hanging, half sprawling position over the arm of the couch— the position she is currently in right now.

He doctored the answers a little bit— he figured now isn’t the right time to tell her he’s pushing a hundred and ten— but he kept the good parts. Like how Steve and he had run through the streets of Brooklyn that night— Steve without a shirt and him in nothing but a pair of boxers that he is pretty sure to this day had belonged to her husband— being chased by the New York police. Good times.

“What, erm, what was her name?” Her voice is extra gentle— airy.

She’s nervous or maybe out of breath. He can’t quite tell, she’s too flopped over to get a proper look. She’s breathtaking either way.

All of a sudden it’s extra hard to fight back his smile. “I thought it was my turn to ask a question.”

Sitting up, she pools back into her seat. She scrunches her nose at him but doesn’t object. He can see that she wants to, though. Her eyes hide nothing. Then again he’s been trained to read people— to see the minute tick of her jaw and the invisible pulsing of her pupils. Invisible to anyone but him. Invisible to anyone who isn’t a monster— the big, bad wolf. His borderline smile dies quickly and he can’t bring himself to search for it again. This is how it should be.

Bucky clears his throat, mulling over what to ask her next. His eyes drift over the tan hoodie, the frays on the cuffs and the fact that there are no strings, and, like that, he has an idea.

“What’s the deal with that hoodie?” He tries to make it casual but he really does want to know— it’s like four sizes too big, there has to be a story.

He tries to make it casual but she still sobers. Like her hands receding once more into the cuffs of her sweater, the last remnants of the giggly girl fade from his line of sight. He chases it as far as he can, watching as her fingers disappear completely and lingering just in case it’s only a fluke. But no, they don’t come back, and he wishes he could disappear with them.

“It was—” her tongue pokes out, swiping against her pink lip and making it shine— “it was my dad’s. He, uh, he went to Caltech too. Was part of their alumni.”

The super soldier nods, pulling his legs up as well, hoping that by copying her she’ll see it as a signal to keep going. He doesn’t want to speak over her and accidentally derail her thoughts. He wants to know about her dad— her whole family actually. Whatever is important to her, like the hoodie.

“We used to go to these big alumni dinners and he would talk at them. Families like us were invited I guess— like a thank you of sorts.” Her eyes take on a faraway look, still latched on his but glassy and distant, no longer actually seeing him. It’s a look he understands too well. “One time he pulled me on stage with him. I think maybe I was thirteen? He said—” she stops, swallowing so hard her throat bobs, and he has to shove his hand under his leg to keep from reaching out— “ah, I’m sorry. He said ‘this girl right here— this is my daughter! If you think I’m good at what I do then you should see her. She’s something I tell you— Gonna be the best this school has ever seen!’”

His chest tightens— not necessarily from her story but from the way her voice cracks, her soft tone becoming scratchy. She swallows again and he hates it. He hates that he can see tears ready to fall and he hates that she’s even here with him under these circumstances.

He hates that he’s still grateful to be here anyway, being the person who she tells her story to.

“Was he right?” He knows it isn’t his question but he has to say something— anything— to make this better. He has no idea if this is it but it’s worth a shot.

Her brows push together, her head tilting slightly to the side, much too elegantly to be normal— are all women this pretty or is it just her? She blinks, clearing some of the mist, eyes drawing over his face. She traces across his brows, down his nose, stopping on his lips for a pulse— like tracing out the rhythm to a song only she can discern. Everything she does is like music. It must just be her.

“What?” She doesn’t say it rudely; she says it like she didn’t hear him— like she was too far lost in the wonderland of her memory to hear anything— and his chest tightens even further.

“You said your father told everyone you were going to be the best— were you?”

He doesn’t take his eyes off of her, slowing his words and waiting for the recognition to creep in. It takes a moment but it does, the last of the glass evaporating into something else.

“I, uhm, I don’t know—”

“You do.” He presses— he can hear the edge of that something in her tone. The downplay is scribed over her feature— lowered eyes, flat mouth, trembling fingers— she wants to say something.

“What do you even know?”

About anything going on in my head— yeah, that’s not familiar at all.

Bucky doesn’t flinch when she hisses the words at him— partly because, despite the clear ice in her words, he doubts they came out as hard as she was hoping they would. Her voice isn’t made to sound wretched. He knows she could tell him the filthiest things— tear him down to the last peg, spit his name out like a curse— and she would still sound like an angel. That makes her dangerous— or at least it would if she didn’t already have tears welling up in those big eyes of hers again.

He flicks a brow, letting one corner of his mouth tick up, telling himself that it’s only for her peace of mind— to let her know that he isn’t angry at her. That he gets it. That sometimes he feels so fucking confused and hurt and scared that he, too, wants to hiss at people because at least then they leave him alone. Yeah, it’s only for her peace of mind.

“Try slamming the ‘you’ harder next time—” he draws the word out, exaggerating the motion while keeping his features a mixture of schooled and relaxed— “usually works out better.”

Her hands— which have been tangling over the collar of her hoodie— drop into her lap with a thunk, her eyes rolling. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome— but you never answered.”

She shoots him a deadpan stare— well, sort of. She never actually stopped looking at him so her face just morphes from vexed to blank. So far it’s his least favourite expression— he would rather she just got angry. He’d rather see fire— or ice— than nothing.

“I thought it was my turn?” Doesn’t she know that the more she avoids the question, the more he wants to know the answer?

Bucky doesn’t let up— he will if she actually tells him to drop it but she hasn’t and he doubts she will— she’s too determined to win. “Consider it payment for your extra questions.”

He holds her gaze still, waiting for the moment she folds. It takes longer than he expects it would, sitting in silence with her eyes on him for almost three minutes. He almost breaks around two and a half minutes. The girl has a way of looking at him like she can see right into his head. Still, he holds, waiting, waiting, waiting until finally— there it is!

Light a light shining in the darkness, her mouth pulls into a merciful smile— well, if mercy means the coy glint in her eye, that is. “I was the best.”

The super soldier nods, finally letting his gaze drop. He doesn’t say anything— he doesn’t have to. His point has already been made. He never wanted to be right. He just wanted her to say it. Not for him but for herself. He doesn’t let himself mull over what that says about him. Nothing good. That’s the only answer. It says nothing good about him, the lengths he’s already willing to go to keep this soft, icy girl safe. Him, a monster. It only tells him that he’s selfish— but he already knew that. Those are thoughts for another time.

“Your turn.” He reminds her, leaning back against the arm of the couch, all but aware of the foot of space between his head and her hand which is scratching over the leather behind him.

There is no pause this time— no beat, moment, or minute. Just like that she’s back, moving on to the next topic, almost as though she has had the question queued for ages now, dying to know the answer. He supposes it’s only fair— she let him ask his questions.

“What was her name?”

Her voice lacks the airy note it had held the last time she asked, clearly over waiting, and he has to turn to the window to hide the way he finally cracks, his lips sloping up in a grin that’s both too alien and too familiar. It tastes too much like the old days— like peach schnapps and movie theatre popcorn. She’s not ready for that. He knows because he isn’t.

“Delores.”

_______________

Tag List: @xhollycowx @remembered-license @dumble-daddy @hellotvshowtrash @thesummerbucky (if i missed anyone I am so sorry please shoot me a message and I’ll fix it)

[lavenderbexlatte]

play you on repeat

stray kids  11.8k words female reader insert FemDom!Reader x Sub!3RACHA EXPLICIT/NSFW

🖤 warnings: unprotected sex, degradation 🖤

Series Masterlist (Parts 1-7)

connect with me! / masterlist

The three of them follow you all the way to the front door in a line like little ducklings, eager-eyed and silent as you part the crowds of students and friends on your way outside.

You only see those eager eyes when you turn around on the front porch of the random house that's throwing this party. Changbin stands just behind you, Jisung after him and Chan bringing up the rear.

They really want more, then. Their instant agreement kind of surprises you; it's one thing to flirt or make out with someone at a party, but it's another thing entirely to invite random classmates home for an orgy. But you're not crazy or stupid enough to let the chance pass you by. You're all in.

"Okay, boys," you say, "Where are we doing this?"

"Me and 'Bin live together," says Chan quickly.

You regard him coolly. "Just you two?"

"Just us," he nods.

That's promising. You live independently but you have roommates, and while you're sure you could sneak one hookup into your room, three of them might turn some heads. Your roommates are patient, but not that patient.

So you smile at them. "Okay. I trust you three aren’t gonna try any dirty tricks on me?"

"Dirty tricks?" Changbin repeats.

You shrug. "Stealing my wallet. Selling me into indentured servitude. Harvesting my organs. The usual nightmare date stuff."

"Why would we do that?" Jisung asks, looking amused but also concerned.

Is he worried that you don't trust them? That's kind of cute.

You just smile wider. "We don't know each other very well, I’m a woman and you’re three men. You guys might be dangerous."

It’s obvious that you’re teasing them. You can't help but laugh a little, saying it, since you’ve actually been alone with the three of them before, for your school project some weeks ago. Besides, the most unpredictable and potentially dangerous person here is you. That's already been proven. The three of them seem just as amused as you, though, so you've succeeded in breaking any tension that was gathering.

"Did you guys drive here?" you ask.

"No," says Jisung.

"Neither did I," you say, “I was planning on getting drunk.”

"No worries. Called a cab already," says Chan.

His cocky attitude is back as he waves his phone in your direction, the screen showing a little animated car tracing its way to your location. When did he order a ride? More importantly, at what point did he assume you were gonna wanna go back to his place? He's right, of course, and you do want to, but come on.

"Presumptuous," you tease.

He shrugs. "Well, 'Sung has roommates, and I figured you wouldn't want three near strangers at your place."

The flash of his eyes lets you know that he’s feeling quite high and mighty for having made up your mind for you. Oh, you're going to have to break this attitude ASAP.

You set about thinking of exactly how to do that as you meander toward the road to wait for the car, trusting that someone will tell you when it arrives. You stand on the sidewalk in the dim circle of light cast by a streetlamp. Chan wants more, right?

So do you. Three boys...three boys who are all partners, it seems. There's gonna be some finagling tonight, some organization needed. You ponder exactly what you want from them. The options are endless, truly. This is going to be very, very good.

When the car pulls up, Changbin comes over and slings his arm around your waist, like he's the one taking you home and not the other way around (figuratively, at least). You look at him, amused, relishing how you can almost meet his eye with the small difference between his height and yours.

"What's this?" you ask, gesturing at his arm around you.

"I'm being gentlemanly," he pouts, bottom lip pushed out exaggeratedly, "Don't kill the vibe."

He's being silly, you realize. That firm confidence from before is gone, replaced by what seems to be an eager desire for you to like him. He's in luck, then. You already like him.

You climb into the back seat of the small black sedan, scooting all the way over to the far window seat. Chan follows right behind you, settling in the middle with Jisung after him. Changbin is up front with the driver. You can tell that the boys would rather have you in the middle seat by the way that Chan and Jisung are playfully glaring at each other, but you much prefer to have your own space by the window. Nobody likes the middle seat.

The boys busy themselves with their phones on the ride, but you just watch the boys instead. You can tell that they know you're watching. Jisung meets your eye once and looks away quickly, grinning, and Changbin is just barely resisting turning all the way around to look at you head-on. You think you know what you want to do with those two, since they're pretty communicative and easy to read, so you study the real predicament.

Chan.

He's got pretty hands, you notice, as he taps away at his phone. He also has one of those dorky leather phone cases with wallet pockets. You just can't get into those; young people use them a lot, now, but you always associate them with dads and teachers and stuff. Old people. Chan's is full of cards, his student ID and a credit card and others. You peer closer at his driver's license with its tiny picture of him. His curly hair is blonde in the photo, which is cute.

You notice something else, too - his birthdate. Chan is in your year in school, but you never knew...

"Are you...are you younger than me?" you ask him, delighted.

He blinks at you. "How old are you?"

You tell him - a year or so older than him. It's not much, but definitely something in a society that puts so much emphasis on age. It also puts you at the oldest in this group by a bit of a margin, considering Changbin is a couple years younger than Chan and Jisung is younger still.

"That makes me the noona tonight," you tease.

Chan gives you an alarmed side-eye, his pale cheeks blushing furiously and his pupils blown big. He's into the noona thing, too? You wonder exactly how many little one-ups you're going to have on him tonight.

So you're the oldest. Hm. You grin to yourself. So they thought they were bagging a shy, quiet submissive, and instead they got you.

The ride to their place is short, and you're surprised when the cab pulls up in front of a small one-story house instead of an apartment building. Not many students around here have homes, since housing prices in the city are predictably sky-high and out of the average student budget. The boys get out of the car right away, thanking the driver, but you take your time. You study the house, the cars in the driveway (two of them, one silver sedan, one black mid-size SUV) and the neat front garden.

"A house," you say mildly.

Changbin looks embarrassed for the first time that night, as he stutters, "My family - I'm - we have-"

"Fucking PILES of money," Chan finishes for him, grinning, "I pay him rent, can you believe it?"

"I didn't want him to pay anything but he insisted," Changbin says.

"I'm not a freeloader," Chan insists.

"You think I'm gonna make my own boyfriend pay rent when I could buy him his own house?" Changbin grumbles, heading up the front walk.

Jisung has already let himself into the house uninterested in the conversation. He doesn't live there, you remember, but obviously he's no stranger. You follow Changbin inside, vaguely aware of Chan coming after you. It's a cute house, you admit to yourself, as you step in the door and kick off your shoes.

It does look like a house where a bunch of boys live, though. An artists' den. There's music equipment strewn all over the small living room; Bluetooth speakers, a midi board, a full-size electric keyboard, a drum pad. Propped on a small table in the corner is a silver slab that you realize is a YouTube subscriber award plaque, and there’s a Soundcloud affiliate certificate next to it.

"The rumors about you guys are true, then," you say, mostly to yourself, not even thinking.

Changbin looks at you, confused. So does Jisung. Chan just smiles lopsidedly.

"What rumors?" Jisung asks.

"Oh." You can feel your face heating up. "Just that you guys are...musicians."

You were actually thinking about their minor celebrity status, their Soundcloud rapper status, but you don't know if that will come across as...like...offensive? Is it rude to call people Soundcloud rappers, since that’s kind of become an insult? They're obviously even more well-known than you thought, if the 100k subs plaque is anything to go off. Not just campus royalty, but actually somewhat famous. It’s bizarre.

"Musicians," Chan repeats, amused.

You kind of hate the expression on his face. He's still holding onto that weird confident charm from the party, the face that you assume he puts on in these situations to pretend he's not one good hair-pull away from whining and begging.

"You can't pretend that you don't know," you say, more aggressively than you mean to, "On campus, with everyone from school…you guys are super...popular."

It sounds so stupid to say, like you're the ugly duckling in a bad teen movie. 'You can’t like meeeee, you're soooo cool and popular!'

"Are we?" Jisung asks, looking genuinely surprised.

Oh my God. You want to facepalm. You want to grab one of them and shake them.

"You literally tried to seduce me in there," you point out, "Would that have worked if you weren't popular? That's something popular people do. Use their, like, social standing to get people to sleep with them."

"That would make us pretty shitty people," Chan says delicately. "Imbalance of power and all that."

Oh. You didn't mean to accuse them of anything. You open your mouth to apologize, feeling incredibly out of place, but Jisung interrupts you, completely unbothered.

"It's only worked once before, anyway," he says.

"...Picking someone up?" you ask.

Changbin nods, "And that only worked because Felix already had a crush on me and Chan. We just had to sell him on Jisung."

"Hey!" Jisung pouts.

Chan pets his hair placatingly, and Jisung shrugs him off in favor of heading for the kitchen, mumbling about being a fucking catch. But you’re focusing on a different bit of what Changbin told you.

"You guys fucked Felix Lee?" you ask, incredulous.

“Maybe a month ago, yeah,” Changbin says.

The cute, freckled face of dance team captain Felix Lee swims in your mind for a moment, followed by the memory of his chiseled abs from a performance earlier in the year. He’s a rising sophomore, but solidly half of campus has a crush on him. Damn, THOSE are their standards, and they wanna fuck YOU? You gotta start giving yourself more credit.

"So, we're popular," Chan muses.

"You had to have known that," you shake your head, "Literally everyone knows you. First years are so thirsty for you. That's why I was so-"

You cut yourself off. They don't need to know that you were flustered when they approached you, back there. They don't need the ego trip.

So you just affix your best innocent smile to you face, looking the three of them over. Chan, leaning against the back of the couch. Changbin, lining up all four pairs of shoes (theirs and yours) by the front door. And Jisung, returned from the kitchen with a bottle of water that he's chugging like a dying man.

"You didn't invite me over to talk about your social status," you say instead.

"We sure didn't," Chan agrees.

"First things first, then," you say, "Boundaries. You guys have any hard limits? Safewords? Musts and don'ts?"

"Nope," says Jisung, taking another sip of the water to punctuate it.

"No musts or no don'ts?" you ask.

"Yes," he quips.

You can't help the way your smile grows. "Alright. Anyone else?"

"No serious degrading," Changbin says, very very quietly.

“Praise motivated, huh?” you coo, “Cute.”

Changbin looks slightly embarrassed, but his eyes are sharp and engaged as he adds, “And no digs at my size.”

You grin. "Size or size?"

"Either!" he pouts.

"Sounds fair to me," you say.

You fix your eyes on the last one: Chan, still looking only mildly interested and very calm. But you can see the very tips of his ears going red, and then it spreads down his cheeks, and then down his neck as you watch him.

And finally, he says, "I'm not good with praise."

Jisung laughs, loud and ridiculous. "That's an understatement."

You smile warmly at Chan, not wanting him to back down if this is a legit thing for him, "So does that mean no praise?"

"No," he says immediately, "Just that...if you - I get all-"

"Flustered," you finish for him. "Good to know."

You pause for a second, wondering what kind of hard limits you'll need to bring up to them tonight. They don't seem like the kind of partners to push you into anything, if they way they're already tiptoeing around is any indication.

"I don't like hitting in the face," you say, after a moment. "Or blood."

Changbin gives you a look. "Is that the kind of stuff you do on your first night with someone?"

You laugh, "No, not usually. But some people have really specific fetishes, and I live to please. Gotta lay everything out before we start."

Chan nods sincerely, like he knows exactly what you're saying, and Jisung follows suit. You're satisfied that you've covered your bases now. And besides, you really want to get started. You have three beautiful men here to play with.

So you say, "Okay. Who's first?"

You're still smiling, but you let some of your pent-up excitement leak into it, wondering if any of them will take the bait. You wonder if they're starting to think that you're some kind of super strict domme. Very serious, or very demanding, or something. You've had that problem before, with people crumbling before you even get started since you're so blunt about boundaries. Some people take that to mean that you like rigid roles and rules and set scenes.

But that's not really true. After the communication is solidified and you trust your partner, you like to just...let go.

Much to your amusement, the first one to crack is Jisung.

He practically bounces up to you, his face so perfectly cute that you wonder if he practices the look in the mirror. It's equal parts funny and ironic, since he's the youngest and also, from what you've seen at school, the one who wants to be taken most seriously.

"I'm first," he informs you.

You smile. You can't help it. His expression is so open and happy, even though his eyes are a little nervous. It's just so much. You gently nudge Chan away from the couch, and pat the back of it gently, invitingly. Jisung seems to understand you immediately and hops right up, balancing himself on the frame and the tops of the cushions, his legs dangling down the back of the couch. You settle yourself between his legs, standing purposefully, spreading your hands across his back to support him gently.

He leans back a little as if to test you, and you hold him up easily. It's not so much that you're strong, but that Jisung's so lean and slim. And even if he did fall, it would just be the short drop onto the seat of the couch. His eyes go wider as he realizes what kind of game you're playing with him. It's a signal, and you figured he'd be smart enough to pick up on it.

"I've got you," you say, very softly, into his ear.

Even if you look unassuming, even if they're taller and louder and bolder than you. Even if you're a gentle dom who puts up with some antics.

You're in control.

When you pull back and look at him, you swear you can see the little cartoon stars blooming in his eyes. He definitely got the message loud and clear.

He nods, almost imperceptibly, and says, "I know."

And you kiss him. He deserves it. A proper kiss, not like the teasing you'd done to him at the party. You let him lick into your mouth, scrape your teeth gently over his soft bottom lip. He's a good boy, you decide. Certified good boy.

Jisung leans back a bit more as he pulls away from you, and he lurches, loses his balance. He doesn’t go anywhere, since you're still holding him up securely, but he looks spooked. It fascinates you, how quickly he's fallen into the game of it. There's no risk if he falls, and yet...

"Can I-" he asks, " - can I touch-"

"Yeah," you say, cutting him off.

And then he's gently holding your face with one hand, the other arm draped over your shoulder, fingers playing with your hair. His body is much more relaxed as he kisses you, and you relish in it.

Oh, he's a sweetheart, you realize. Not a pushover or anything; he's still cupping your face and smiling into the kiss, confident and comfortable. But a good boy.

"You're so pretty," you say.

Jisung honest to God whines against your lips at the praise.

"It's true," you say, amused.

"He likes that a lot," comes Chan's voice.

You jump, having nearly forgotten your audience again. The other two are standing just beside you, watching intently as you work over their boyfriend.

"Being called pretty?" you ask him, as if Jisung isn't even there.

Chan nods.

"Well, he is," you affirm, leaning in to kiss Jisung's nose, trying to get your groove back.

Honestly, it’s a struggle to keep up with the fact that you’re trying to dom three people at once. You know you’ll do fine. It’s group sex, not a goddamn triathlon. But it’s useful here that you prefer domming psychologically, rather than with lots of physical force. You don’t know exactly what these three are used to, what they’re comfortable doing. A first-time with three people at once probably isn't the best time to fly in with a strap-on and demand people obey you.

So doing this the old-fashioned way, with simple baiting, praising, awarding, withholding…that’s gonna be the way forward.

“Who’s got the best bed for a foursome?” you ask, still holding up Jisung but looking expectantly back at Chan and Changbin.

Changbin nudges Chan with his elbow, "D'you think you could handle moving your pillow fort? For sexy purposes."

"Pillow fort?" you repeat.

"I have a lot of pillows, it's fine," Chan defends. "No big deal."

"He makes a nest with them," pipes up Jisung, "Like a crib."

Chan glares at him, "I'm sorry, I didn't know it was Put Chan On Blast Night."

"Okay, whose bed is biggest?" you ask instead, deigning not to comment on the pillow thing any further.

"Changbin's," says Jisung.

"Then we can go there."

"Yes, ma'am," Changbin says easily, and he turns on his heel to head for the bedroom door on the right side of the house.

It's a small house, so he's quickly out of sight. Chan follows after him. You unwind your arms from around Jisung's little waist, and he lets himself drop dramatically backwards onto the couch cushions. You follow Chan, and Jisung chases after you.

Changbin's room is painted an off-white, the bedding rich dark blue against neutral wood furniture. It's extremely well-done for a college boy's room. You're impressed. It might even be more cohesive than your room. Now, at night, with just the soft light coming in from outside in the gap of his slightly-open blackout curtains, it looks impossibly atmospheric.

"Hold on," Changbin mutters, as you take in the space.

There's a soft click, and a set of fairy lights come on, strung around the perimeter of the room. They're an interesting color array, purple and blue and cool white. It's bright enough to see what you're doing, to see each other, but dark enough to set the tone. Yeah. They have a lot of sex in here. You're kind of excited to be part of it.

"Is there anyone-" you start, before your mind can filter the thought, and you stop.

But all three of them are just looking at you, standing there in a little line. You walk deeper into the room. You can do this. And so you swallow that last trace of lingering shame and ask them outright.

"Is there anyone who doesn't wanna fuck me?"

Jisung and Changbin break out in raucous laughter, and Chan just regards you.

"Why would we not want to?" Chan asks.

"I mean," you huff feeling petulant despite yourself, "Some people have no interest in the P in V stuff and would prefer something else, shut up!"

"You ask a lot of questions," Chan shoots back.

"I'm being considerate," you reply.

"No, I think we're all on board," interrupts Changbin, as if to head off a real argument.

You have no intention of fighting, though. You wonder what kind of people these three have hooked up with in the past. They obviously have no communication difficulties with each other, and yet they're (well...Chan is) being so difficult with you.

"Perfect," you say, "'Bin, c'mere."

Changbin shuffles nearer to you, leaving the others behind, and you look him over carefully. He's broad and strong, much bigger than Jisung. Your approach to him has to be a little different, you think. You make a quick decision: he's gonna be your ally tonight.

You lean into his ear and whisper the plan you've been making up on the fly. He listens. And when you've finished, Changbin grins conniving and bright.

"Does that sound good?" you ask him.

He nods. "I think they'll like it."

"Like what?" Jisung asks eagerly.

"Don't worry about it," you reply.

"I'm gonna worry about it," says Chan.

That dude. So neurotic. You really need to figure out what his buttons are, so you can know which ones to press and which to avoid. It's gonna take more than a little hair-pulling to figure out, you wager.

"'Bin, give me a hand?" you say, gesturing at your top.

Changbin gives you a winning smile and looks gloatingly back at Jisung, then at Chan, and then he reaches down to leisurely unbutton your shirt. You never wear button-downs, but you're glad you did tonight. They make undressing so much more...cinematic.

You shrug off the shirt when Changbin's done, the final button falling open, and you move next to strip off his t-shirt, too. He wears those things tight. He always has; you can't even count how many days in class you've spent staring at the muscular span of his shoulders. This one is the same, clinging to his form ridiculously, like he's trying out to be Captain America's body double.

When the t-shirt is gone, you're greeted with a thick, toned upper body that dips into solid, narrower hips. Not quite cut, no chocolate abs or anything, but he's got some impressive working muscle under his deep-toned skin. Beef. He's beefy.

"Wow," you say appreciatively, running your hand from his collarbone all the way down to his belt.

"What about us?" Jisung asks.

"Patience," you murmur, "Don't you want Changbinnie to feel good?"

Jisung pouts, but says, "Yes..."

"Then you can wait your turn," you say plaintively.

"Can I kiss you, noona?" Changbin asks.

You look at him, amused. "So you heard that conversation."

Changbin shakes his head. "I knew before. Chan-hyung always calls you-"

Chan squeaks, mortified, cutting him off, but you've heard plenty.

"Oh, he always calls me noona," you purr, "Before he knew how old I was?"

"Yes," Changbin says.

That's interesting, to say the least. It means that their approach to you from the start was to defer familiar respect and treat you like an elder, rather than a peer. Hm.

You get a little closer, bringing your face up to his. "Do you talk about me a lot?"

"No," Changbin breathes, "But when we do-"

"Dude!" Chan hisses.

"Don't listen to him," you soothe Changbin, giving Chan a little wink over your shoulder, "Thank you for telling me."

You kiss Changbin, since he did ask so nicely and gave you a wonderful tidbit about Chan. He's a good kisser. Needy; he's pressing you backwards with his enthusiasm. You reach to put your arms around his neck, but then you reconsider. Instead, you fold yourself against his chest, palms flat on his pecs. It gives the illusion that you're much smaller than him, even though admittedly he's not a very tall person.

The change in his body language is instantaneous. Your hunch was right - he likes feeling big. He did say not to make digs about his size. Well, you certainly won't about his height. But his size...

You move down and begin unbuckling his belt.

"How come only he gets to get naked?" Jisung complains.

You glance at him, hands busy unbuttoning and zipping down Changbin.

"I'm not stopping you," you reply, "You could undress without permission. But you'll miss out on all the fun if you just go off on your own."

Jisung blinks doe eyes at you, and Chan huffs out a laugh.

"Some dom you are, yeah?" Chan scoffs.

You shrug. "I can't make you do anything. I'm not gonna force you."

"No?" Chan says.

"That's the fun of this stuff, isn't it?" you say.

You ruffle Changbin's hair playfully, and motion for him to continue undressing himself. Willing all the grace you know you possess, you walk over to Chan, keeping your motions fluid and careless. You want him to see exactly what kind of dom you are.

"The fact that you don't have to listen to me. That's the fun," you say, "You don't have to. But you will. You wanna be good."

Chan swallows hard. "I..."

"I'm sure you like being good," you continue, cupping Chan's face in both of your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes. "You're gonna be good for me, aren't you, peach?"

"Yeah," he says, so quietly that you think you've imagined it, his cheeks burning red.

"I'm sorry," you hum, "I didn't hear that. Yes...?"

"Yes, noona," Chan says.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, noona, I'll be good for you."

"I thought you would be," you say, satisfied. "Go sit on the bed. Against the headboard."

He looks like he wants to complain about that, but you shrug again, punctuating that you're truly not here to force anyone. Domming is about control, not force. If Chan wants to turn over control to you, he will.

And he does.

He scrambles up the bed and sits with his back against the headboard. You can feel his eyes on you, and Jisung's wide, wide eyes, as you return to Changbin.

Changbin is down to his boxer-briefs, and God, he's good-looking. Solid and masculine. You kind of just want to have your way with him and be done with it. But that's not the plan.

“Jisung,” you say.

He jumps, not expecting to be addressed. “Yeah?”

“Are you okay bottoming tonight?”

“’Course,” he affirms, “Always. For who?”

You glance at Changbin, who nods, and Jisung smiles his biggest, most genuine smile, crooked front tooth and all.

“I like this plan,” he says.

That assent is all you need to hear.

“Is there lube?” you ask Changbin.

He turns away, presumably to grab it, and you snag Jisung by the wrist and tug him toward you. Jisung's wide smile is distracting, as you have him lie down on the bed. Changbin's bed is a king, you think, a really really big mattress with plenty of room to use. But when Jisung sprawls out easily, the top of his head is close to Chan.

"You have one rule, up there," you say to Chan, "No touching."

"No touching...him?" Chan asked, pointing at Jisung.

You smile. "No touching. Him, me, 'Bin, yourself. No touching."

Chan looks wide-eyed, almost hurt at your words. You can't tell exactly how he's feeling, so you move around the bed until you're right in front of him, and take one of his hands in yours.

"Is that okay?" you ask, "Are you okay with that?"

"I'm okay," he says.

You look at Changbin, waiting by Jisung's knees at the edge of the bed, and at Jisung himself, watching you upside-down.

"Can I implement the traffic light system?" you ask them, "It's the easiest safeword system for me, I think, with so many of you."

"You mean the color thing," Changbin clarifies.

"Yeah," you nod.

"We've used that one before," says Jisung agreeably, "We don't usually use any safewords but we can do that.

You turn back to Chan. "Does that work for you?"

He smiles, and it warms up his face all the way to his eyes, so you relax.

"Yeah, that works well," he says.

"Good," you say, "So. Color?"

"Green," says Chan.

"Great."

You lean in and kiss him for his trouble, realizing with a thrill that you've really only kissed him one other time. He's damn good at it, too, eager but gentle with just enough pressure. You pull back right as he starts to really melt against you, and drop his hand back onto his lap, in favor of returning to Jisung where you've left him.

Jisung, for his part, is lounging back on his elbows, just watching you, and you nudge his knees farther apart as you settle in between them. You can feel Changbin's warmth behind you again as he hovers, not quite touching you.

"Noona," he whines.

You glance back at him, his chin at your shoulder.

"I know," you tut, "You're already doing a good job for me, gorgeous."

He beams at the praise, and repeats, "Noonaaaa."

You smile to yourself at the lilt in his voice. "You can touch, baby."

There are suddenly lips against the side of your throat, Changbin trailing kisses across your skin, and hands on your waist pulling you back gingerly, as if he's afraid you'll tell him off for being too greedy (which is a good and valid worry). You lean away, down toward Jisung, and coax him upright to peel the baggy t-shirt off him. As you get the garment over his head, you're surprised to see firm abs and pecs. Jisung is small and thin, but apparently very, very muscular. Huh.

"You've been holding out on me," you chide him.

"Don't think about it that way, noona," Jisung says, "Think of it as a nice surprise."

You huff out a laugh. He's being kind of mouthy, but it's cute, so you're gonna let it slide. Mostly.

"Are you in any position to be telling me what to do?" you tease.

Jisung shrugs, lips pursed. You tickle your fingers down the hard line of his abs, grinning when he jumps and squeaks under your touch.

"'Bin?" you ask.

"Yes?"

"Who here is overdressed?"

Changbin hums against your skin, mouthing at the soft juncture of your neck and your shoulder, and says, "Jisungie, noona. And you."

"Not Chan?" you ask lightly.

Changbin grins. You can feel the flats of his teeth against your skin.

"Not unless you say so, noona," Changbin says.

"Good call, gorgeous," you say, leaning back into his touch.

He's hard against your ass, you note. Perfect. You go for Jisung's skintight jeans next, unbuttoning and peeling the black denim down his slim thighs. He's so dainty, all thin graceful limbs, his frame small but masculine and defined. You can see his cock twitch with interest as you get the jeans all the way off, his boxers beginning to tent.

"Excited?" you ask, letting your hand trail over him, gently feeling the outline of him through the thin fabric.

"Yeah," he says, shameless.

"Who should get undressed first?" you ask Jisung,

Jisung must register something in your tone, as his big eyes look from you, to Changbin, back to you.

And then he says, "Me, noona."

"Oh," you purr, "Good boy."

You free him from his boxers, and it's not a surprise when you're met with a pretty, proportional cock, flushed and lovely. You're hit with the urge to feel the weight of him in your mouth. And fuck, this is YOUR game, isn't it? So you lean down and do just that, taking his head between your lips.

Jisung gasps, high and pretty, and you can see Chan's face above you darken. He looks...jealous?

"Peach, you okay?" you say, coming off Jisung to speak.

Chan looks at you, puppy-eyed.

"I want..." he trails plaintively.

"I know you do," you agree. “Don’t be greedy.”

He's still sitting obediently, hands balled into fists atop his thighs and not touching anything. He's the only one fully dressed, and you can tell that it's driving him crazy. He can wait. You know he can.

So you nuzzle against Jisung's stomach indulgently and ask him, "Who next?"

Jisung pauses, comprehending what you've asked, and then he says, "Changbin-hyung."

You place your hand over Changbin's where it still rests in its spot on your waist.

"You heard him, Binnie," you say, "Go 'head."

His warmth vanishes from behind you for only a few seconds before he's back, his now unencumbered cock brushing against your shorts. You grip Jisung's length again, pumping him for a moment, looking down at him with a glint in your eye.

"Here's what's going to happen," you say, standing up properly, "I'm going to prep you for Changbin, baby. And Changbin is gonna have some fun of his own while I do it."

Jisung nods his understanding at your words, his expression delighted, and Chan is all but panting as he sits pretty for you. There's a lovely flush creeping from his ears toward the neckline of his button-down shirt.

You shuck off your own shorts, left now in just your bra and panties. As you look down at yourself, you realize that while they are not a matching set, your underwear ARE about the same color, which you count as a personal victory. It's the little things.

"Hand me a pillow, peach?" you ask Chan.

He nearly topples over in his eagerness to give you a pillow from the head of the bed. You have Jisung raise his hips, and settle the pillow under him, angling him up for better access. He doesn't seem the slightest bit self-conscious, on display to you like that. You almost hate how attractive that is.

"Everyone, color?" you ask.

"Green," chirps Jisung, almost before you're done speaking.

"Green," Chan agrees.

"So green," Changbin groans from behind you, where he's still grinding against your ass.

"Wonderful," you murmur.

You turn your attention fully to the boy beneath you. Jisung is impeccably groomed, maybe even better than you, you think. There's a neat thatch of hair around the base, and he's all but hairless everywhere else. It's impressive.

You trail your hand over his balls, his perineum, to his hole, and he chokes out a moan as you just graze the thin skin there.

"Are you sure you're ready to go, Jisungie?" you ask, and he nods eagerly.

"I wanted to bottom tonight anyway," he informs you cheekily.

Chan laughs, which melts any of your lingering worries that you've overwhelming or neglecting him.

"That's true," Chan says softly. "He told us before the party."

"You guys are so much fun," you say.

The lube is laying on the comforter next to you, so you pick it up, pop the top, and coat two of your fingers in the stuff. You lean down over Jisung again, knowing how obscene you must look together, him all spread out for you and you draped over his lithe little body. You're sure both Chan, in front, and Changbin, behind, are getting an eyeful of the two of you.

"I'm gonna start," you warn Jisung.

"Finally," Jisung teases, "I was beginning to think - shit-"

He's cut off as you ease your index finger past that ring of muscle. The slide is much easier than you expected, but he still whines out in a pitch higher than you would have thought.

"You do this a lot?" you ask him, only half-teasing, slowly pumping your finger and relishing in the easy way he takes you, "You're so open."

"I do, yeah," Jisung agrees, breathless.

"And here I thought you were the bottom of the group," you say to Chan, letting a little bit of bite into your voice, wondering if they're at all into that.

Chan's flush picks back up, and he stammers, "I - mean-"

"He can be a great little hole, too," Jisung says, casually, "I wrecked him a couple days ago, didn't I, hyung?"

Still blushing furiously, Chan nods.

"Interesting," you say simply, turning your attention back to Jisung, "Hey, what happened to those pretty sounds?"

You curl your finger slightly, and Jisung lets out another gasp.

"That's more like it," you praise.

You almost wish you had a strap here, so you could do the next part yourself, too. But your actual plan is gonna be just as much fun, so you can easily be content with this.

"Noona," comes Changbin's voice.

"Yes?" you answer.

"Can I...I mean..." Changbin trails off, seeming embarrassed.

"Can you?" you prompt, amused at his sudden shyness.

"Can I make you feel good, too?" he asks.

"Oh, baby," you simper, "Of course. So good, asking for permission."

Changbin laughs breathlessly, and so does Jisung.

"Isn't he good?" you ask Jisung.

"Good," Jisung agrees, though he nearly chokes on the word.

He seems to be ready for another finger, so you draw out and press back in with two, this time. At the same time, you lean down to take his length back into your mouth. Jisung whimpers again, starting to press his hips down against your hand.

As you're bent over at the waist, pleasuring Jisung, you feel tentative fingers pulling your panties to the side. You wonder if you're going to get the warm press of a cockhead, or-

"Oh," you breathe, pulling off Jisung's cock again to collect yourself as the unmistakable trace of a tongue wanders up your core.

Changbin pulls away just as quickly as he began, and you all but groan in frustration.

"Come on, gorgeous, don't be shy," you urge.

And the tongue returns, more eager this time, as Changbin settles himself fully between your legs. You steel yourself to enjoy while also focusing on the task at hand, prepping Jisung, and keeping your wits about you. Changbin definitely doesn't seem like he's only a sub, and neither do the other two, honestly. They seem like switches, if you had to hazard a guess. It would be in poor taste to let any of them turn the tables on you, now, wouldn't it?

Your mind wanders a little as you scissor and work your two fingers, Jisung trembling and whimpering praise under you, Changbin's plush lips against your clit. How the fuck did you get here?

You're kind of floored to think that maybe an hour ago, you were at that party, bored, barely buzzed, and anonymous, or so you thought. Plain old you. And now you're here, sandwiched between two of the hot, popular guys from Physics class with the third one watching you and white-knuckling the sheets.

A surge of power sweeps through you at the thought. You're here. You have this. You deserve this. And you're gonna have a good fucking time.

"I'm ready!" Jisung is sputtering, "I'm - I'm-"

"Ready," you finish for him, bringing your focus back to the moment.

There's arousal building low in your stomach. Changbin is good with his mouth. You kind of wish you could see him while he's doing this.

"Ready for what?" you ask Jisung.

"More!" he whines, “More, Jesus, two fingers is basic!”

You pull your fingers out, which just makes him whine louder, to reapply lube. This time, you push in with three, and Jisung keens long and low.

"You know, Changbinnie," you say, making sure to keep your voice measured and casual, "You're gonna need to get wet to fit inside Jisungie's pretty hole."

Changbin pulls himself up at your words, leaving your core wet and exposed and distinctly throbbing, and he leans forward to take the lube from you. You stop him before he can take the bottle.

"That's not what I meant," you say sweetly.

There's a fraction of a second while he catches up, and then Changbin groans openly against your shoulder blade, as you continue to work your fingers steadily in and out of Jisung.

"Noona, we have condoms in Chan-hyung's room," Changbin says, "I can go-"

"No," you say, "No need."

And that's all the permission Changbin seems to need, before he's lining himself up.

"Can I?" he asks.

You coo. He hasn't missed a single beat, sweet and obedient and so ready to be good for you.

"You're so good, gorgeous," you say, "Yes, please."

He sinks into you quickly, no preamble, and you can't blame him for being eager because you're secretly just as ready for it. He's thicker than you expected, but you should have expected it, considering the rest of his body. You find yourself panting against Jisung’s hipbone, your fingers pausing inside Jisung as you enjoy the delicious stretch.

“Can I move, noona?” Changbin asks, sounding punched-out already.

“Take it slow,” you instruct him, “This is just a warmup for you, you know.”

Changbin whines under his breath but obeys you, pulling out agonizingly slowly. As you try to keep your head clear, you notice Chan shifting on the bed ahead of you, and you have an idea.

“Okay, peach,” you say, keeping your voice level, “Why don’t you come over here and have a good look?”

“A look?” Chan repeats, “At…”

You smile to yourself. “At whatever you want. Jisung is a pretty picture, I’m sure you know that.”

“And you, noona,” Changbin cuts in.

“And me?” you say, amused.

“Pretty,” says Changbin, by way of explanation, as he keeps up his slow, slow pace.

“Thanks,” you say, arching back against him, figuring he deserves a little reward.

You nod at Chan, encouraging, and he crawls off the bed and comes around behind you. You’re sure he can see everything from where he is - your fingers disappearing into Jisung’s heat, Changbin’s cock disappearing into you. The combined power of Changbin’s steady pace and Chan watching it all is a little overwhelming. You need to narrow your focus or else someone is gonna come before you intend it to happen, and that someone might just be you.

You gently pull your fingers out of Jisung’s hole, leaving him complaining behind you.

“It was just starting to get good, come on!” Jisung whines

“Patience, baby,” you say, giving Jisung a playing smack on the meat of his thigh.

You turn your head fully to look at Chan. He’s staring, transfixed, down on the place where Changbin’s cock is slowly working in and out of you. And now that your brain isn’t focusing on being careful with Jisung, the arousal is really catching up with you. You’re getting close.

Really, you reason, what’s the harm in having a little more fun for yourself?

“Jisungie,” you say, “You wanna give me a hand here?”

He looks rightfully confused, until you reach up and snap your own bra strap against your skin. Then Jisung winks at you, and reaches around to push-pull-snap open the hooks in the back in one fluid movement.

“How’d you get so good at that?” you ask him, amused. “None of your partners wear bras.”

Jisung looks offended. “Who says I don’t wear ‘em?”

“Good point.”

You shrug off the garment, now only in your panties, which aren’t doing much of anything anymore since Changbin’s fucking you around them. Jisung’s eyes are following your breasts as you readjust yourself, sitting up more and shifting your weight onto your knees. Man, your core is gonna be killing you tomorrow…

“Lock it up, baby, shit,” you tease Jisung, “How long has it been since you’ve seen tiddies?”

“That weren’t on a man? I don’t even know.”

“Hm.”

You reach down and start drawing lazy circles on your clit, and you can feel yourself clench down on Changbin at the stimulation. He gasps, and you tut at him.

“I know you can wait for me, gorgeous,” you say.

He whines, “But-”

“Changbinnie. You’re gonna let me feel good, aren’t you?” you ask him. “Don’t I deserve to cum first?”

“Yes,” he grinds out.

“Noona, can I do it?” Jisung asks suddenly.

You’re still hovering over him, all but laying on top of him, and you look down at his face. His eyes are fixed on your fingers, rubbing yourself through your underwear.

“Do what?” you ask, just to be difficult.

“Make you cum,” Jisung answers.

You take your hand off your clit and reach out to thread your fingers through Jisung’s, leading him back to the front of your panties.

“You and Binnie need to work together for this, huh?” you say, “One of you isn’t good enough? It has to be two?”

“I’m good enough,” Changbin argues.

“Shush,” you admonish, “Then prove it.”

You let your hand fall away again, as Jisung takes up the task. He slips his fingers down your waistband, circling hard and tight over your clit. Changbin, obedient to the end, is still somehow keeping up those slow, deep strokes that you demanded. And you have to admit: they’re determined to prove it.

“Jesus, noona,” Changbin whines.

“You’re not gonna cum yet,” you instruct.

“I know.”

Jisung meets Changbin’s eye over your shoulder; you can tell that’s what he’s doing from the smirk on Jisung’s face and the muttered shut up that Changbin stifles into your neck. He gets up on his knees, and you find yourself pressed between them, your forehead against Jisung’s breastbone as his fingers work under you. You glance up, intending to tell Jisung off for making his next move on his own, but the vision you see knocks that idea right out of your head.

They’re making out over you.

It’s so beautifully desperate, Changbin biting and panting into Jisung’s mouth and whining under it all as he fucks into you, Jisung with one hand fisted in Changbin’s hair and the other still dutifully circling your clit, wet and dirty. As you feel your peak coming on, you remember the last member of your party, poor Chan, still relegated to his spectator’s spot behind you all, still under orders not to touch. You look up at him, and God, you wish you had looked sooner.

Chan is standing there, hands cemented at his sides. He’s flushed from the tips of his ears all the way down his neck, to his chest, creeping under his shirt, and his eyes are hungry. But he’s being good, no matter how much he wants to move.

He’s still being good, and that’s what sends you over the edge. You drop your head back down against Jisung’s chest, and gasp and shake your way through your own orgasm. Changbin lets out a moan that borders on a shout, as you surprise him with your clenching walls, and he slows down even more, just grinding into you. There’s something so bone-deep satisfying about it, all three of the boys with their eyes on you and unable to do anything without your permission. They just have to watch and hold back.

You wait until you can speak properly before you say anything to them.

“You didn’t cum, did you, gorgeous?” you ask, swiveling your oversensitive pussy back on Changbin, spots swimming in your vision from how hard you came.

“No, noona,” Changbin says, and his voice is thin with strain but confident.

You know he didn’t, but it’s satisfying to make him say it. He’s holding still now, just standing there stuffing you full. That orgasm cleared your head a bit; you feel more centered than ever. And you feel a little bit bad for Chan, honestly. He’s gotten the least attention from you so far.

“I think Channie really wishes he was you two right now. What d’you think, peach?” you ask, directing the last part at Chan.

Chan doesn’t answer right away, which is just as well, because you can see his erection straining against his dark jeans. His eyes are fixed between your legs, where you can feel your own wetness inching obscenely out around Changbin’s cock.

“I asked you a question,” you say, louder, and Chan looks at your face instead of your pussy.

“I think I’ve been good, noona,” Chan says quietly.

“Let’s get a second opinion, hm?” you say.

You peel Changbin’s hands off your waist and scoot away from him, pulling yourself off his dick, and push Jisung away to give yourself some room. You settle beside Jisung, who sits back down against the mattress and leans on his elbows to look at the rest of you.

“But noonaaaa,” Changbin whines.

“You got some already,” you admonish. “Don’t be greedy.”

Changbin pouts at you, and you reach out and squish his cheeks in your hand. He just lets you do it, and you lean in and kiss his lips. He deserves it, and more.

“So. Consensus,” you say, “Has Channie been good?”

“Not as good as me,” Changbin mutters.

You laugh, and turn to Jisung expectantly for his answer.

“I think so,” Jisung says, “He listens to you much better than he listens to me.”

“How honest,” you say.

You turn and swing one leg over Jisung’s torso, only hesitating for a second as you factor in your body weight on top of his dainty little body and then deciding it doesn’t matter. You sit up straight, facing Jisung so that you can see his expression, trapping his bare cock between your folds, still kind of covered in your stretched and soaked panties, and his stomach.

“Oh, Jesus,” Jisung wheezes, throwing his head back.

“They’re really roasting you,” you say to Chan conversationally, as if you’re not torturing Jisung in the same moment.

“I’m used to it,” he replies, giving you a sheepish smile that shows his deep dimples.

His casual admission is strangely charming, and it makes you smile back. You grind down on Jisung just for a second, just to hear the noise that he makes. He doesn't disappoint, a whine coming up from his chest as his hands scrabble at the sheets. He doesn't touch you, even though you haven't said that he can't. The faultless obedience is thrilling.

"Are you ready for a little more?" you ask Jisung, nodding toward Changbin.

"A little?" Changbin protests.

You send him a wink, realizing the stupid joke. "Oh, come on, that wasn't a dig."

"Thin ice, noona," he mutters.

You raise an eyebrow at that. "Excuse me?"

"Biting the hand that feeds you, hyung," Jisung sing-songs, tilting his head up.

"Jisungie, you talk too much," you tease.

You shift over Jisung so that the head of his cock prods at your entrance. You're still wet and messy from all of their handiwork, and Jisung keens.

"We don't need him, do we?" you nod over your shoulder at Changbin.

"I mean, I was looking forward to the dicking, but - oh shit" Jisung moans, as you reach down and pull your panties aside properly, and let the very tip of him slip inside you.

"This isn't the plan," Changbin complains.

You smile at him sweetly. "I just don't want anyone to forget who's in charge here."

You climb off Jisung, leaving him whining in your wake, and move up to the spot at the head of the bed where you'd sat Chan earlier. The three boys watch as you settle cross-legged, casual as anything.

"I think," you say, resting your chin in your hand and your elbow on your knee, "I think that I just want to watch for a while."

All three of them, Changbin and Chan standing side by side and Jisung sitting half-upright, look at you with matching wide eyes. You tut, looking right back at them and silently making up your mind.

"Come here, peach," you say, making grabby hands at Chan.

He complies easily, coming back up the bed toward you, and you uncross your legs to make some room, patting the mattress in front of you. Chan pauses, kneeling between your open legs, and you turn him around gently by the shoulders. You sit him down with his back pressed to your chest. He's still fully dressed, even after everything that’s gone on, and his silky black shirt is cool and soft against your bare skin. His broad shoulders cover you entirely, but he melts against you, sliding down a little so that his head rests at the crook of your neck, curly black hair against your cheek.

"Jisungie, Binnie?" you say, "I want you to put on a good show for me while I give this poor baby boy some attention."

You let your hands wander to the top button on Chan's shirt. It's not the top button, really, because he's got the first three undone already to show a span of pale toned chest. So you unbutton the next one, and crawl your fingers down to the next, too.

"So I can," Changbin starts, "I can-"

"Yes," you nod, "But neither of you can cum until I say so. Okay?"

"Okay," says Jisung eagerly.

"You have to earn it," you warn, "A good show."

Jisung and Changbin look at each other, significantly, like they're silently concocting their own plan. You decide you can get a hand on that ball, too.

"Channie, wouldn't they be pretty if they kissed for us?" you ask, murmuring right into Chan's ear.

He nods eagerly, and you pop another shirt button. You glance down at Chan's torso, completely bare to you now, all pale smooth skin and chiseled abs. So you ease the silky shirt off his shoulders, down his arms, and discard it off the side of the bed.

By the time you look back up, Jisung has Changbin pinned to the bed, straddling his waist and kissing him right into the mattress.

"Oh," you say mildly, "Promising start, hm?"

You stroke up and down Chan's abs with your fingertips, and he laughs gently.

"They're always like this," he says.

"Thirsty?"

"Out of control," he corrects.

Jisung breaks away from Changbin's mouth, frowning at Chan. "You love it, you asshole. You're just as bad."

Chan nestles back into you more and doesn't say anything, but you can see an answering half-smile creeping over his face. Changbin takes advantage of the distraction to flip Jisung over onto his back, finally flexing the strength you know he has, and bends Jisung nearly in half. His knees are up by his shoulders, and his face is more than a little alarmed.

"Hey, I'm not that bendy!" Jisung protests.

"Yeah, you are," Changbin shushes, "Do you wanna cum or not?"

You grin. "Come on, then."

With a big upside-down sigh, Jisung looks at you, while Changbin digs around in the sheets for the lube.

"You see what I have to deal with?" Jisung asks you, "They're so good and nice for you, and for me? This disrespect. I don't even know - OH-"

Jisung cuts off, and it's obvious what's happening from the way Changbin's hands fly down to Jisung's hips and Jisung's back arches up to meet him. You hum your satisfaction, taking in the blissful expression on Changbin's face, and the sweat already beading at Jisung's hairline.

But you quickly realize that you can't see nearly well enough. They're laying up the bed properly, feet at the foot and Jisung's head against the mattress near yours and Chan's intertwined legs. But if they were perpendicular to you...

"Okay, gorgeous," you coo, and Changbin's head snaps up at the sound of the pet name, "Turn around on the bed so that I can see exactly how nice Jisungie fits around you."

It takes a second, but Changbin processes your words with a slow blink, and grabs Jisung's hips to unceremoniously turn them ninety degrees. Now they're laying across the bed widthwise, and you have a delightful view of Changbin's thick cock sinking into Jisung smoothly. He's set a brutal pace, snapping against Jisung's narrow hips with a force that makes you clench around nothing. He’s obviously making up for the painfully slow pace you made him take on you. It's quiet enough that all you can hear is the perverse squelch of lube and the tiny breathy sighs Jisung makes every time Changbin bottoms out.

"Jesus," Chan breathes, and you nearly jump out of your skin; despite the weight of him on you, you've all but forgotten about him while you're taking in the view in front of you.

"How do they look?" you ask him, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair.

"So good," Chan answers, "So - ah-"

You tug his curls gently, and Chan arches his neck back so that his head rests fully on your shoulder.

"Noona," Changbin says with an edge of desperation in his voice, pulling your attention back to him, "Noona, I'm not, I can't-"

"You gotta hold on for me, gorgeous," you coax.

Changbin nods, digging his fingers into Jisung's hips and making his poor boyfriend squeak at the added pressure. He sits back on his heels, pulling Jisung with him, so that he’s almost upright, giving you a delightful view of their bodies meeting. It makes you groan to yourself, waves of arousal peeling through your gut.

You reach down to undo Chan’s belt and jeans, and it only takes a moment to rid him of those, too. He’s ridiculously hard in his black boxers, and as you palm him through the fabric, you have to admit that he’s the biggest of the three of them.

“Who’s gonna cum first?” you ask Chan.

He drags his eyes away from the sight of Jisung’s arched back, the faint bruises forming under Changbin’s hands, and looks up at you.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs.

“I think Jisung’s earned it,” you decide, “Peach, you wanna give him a hand?”

“Not him,” Jisung gasps.

Chan looks affronted. “Hey!”

“Noona please,” Jisung begs. “Please!”

“Oh, you want me?” you ask, smirking.

Jisung nods, gasping and screwing his eyes shut as Changbin keeps up that punishing pace. You can have mercy on him, can’t you?

Chan leans forward so you can wiggle out from behind him, and you sit back on your heels beside Changbin and Jisung. The view is even better up close: Changbin’s muscles bunching and expanding, Jisung rocking up the bed with every thrust. Changbin’s gorgeous face furrowed in concentration. Jisung’s rim contracting obscenely around the cock still working in and out of him.

You feel delightfully gross, wonderfully perverse and voyeuristic, and you lean down to kiss Jisung. He kisses back like he’s starving, panting into your mouth.

“Pretty boy,” you say, right against his lips, “Do you want to cum?”

Jisung nods, his eyes barely focusing on you, the attention going right to his head. “Yes, noona!”

“What do you need to cum?” you ask him.

“Your…hand, noona, or your mouth, please,” Jisung whines.

You smile at him, leaning in for one more kiss. “You can cum when you’re ready, baby.”

“Yes, noona.”

One down, one to go. You shuffle so that you’re sitting face to face with Changbin and he all but falls forward to kiss you, his hips not even stuttering as they drive forward. His singular focus is impressive. You let Changbin press messy open-mouth kisses against your lips, your cheeks, as you finally wrap a hand around Jisung’s cock.

His whole body jumps when you start jerking him quickly. It only takes two, three, four pumps before Jisung is babbling, begging for your permission even though you’ve already given it.

“Noona, I’m going to – please let me cum, I need it, I need-”

“Go ahead, pretty baby, cum for me,” you say.

That’s all it takes for Jisung to come into your hand with a shout, loud and high-pitched and cracking in the middle. His voice is a rush of power, like adrenaline in your veins, and you keep up your pace, stroking him through his orgasm. You look to Changbin next, watching him as he throws his head back and moans openly at the feeling of Jisung coming around him. His eyes are wide open, still, and he finds your gaze as he finally begins to lose his pace. This is the second person’s orgasm he’s had to ride out, poor thing. It almost makes you want to keep going, see how long he can last…

“I-” he stutters, “I want…”

“Ask nicely,” you instruct.

“I want to cum, noona,” Changbin pleads.

“That doesn’t sound like asking nicely.”

Changbin makes a tiny sound of despair, and tries again, “Please, may I cum, noona? I’ve – God – I’ve been good, haven’t I? Please?”

He’s beautiful, begging so nicely for you. You bring up your hand that’s covered in Jisung’s cum and nudge the dirty fingers against his lips. Without hesitating, Changbin sucks two fingers into his mouth, his tongue working between the digits.

“Filthy,” you coo.

Changbin just whines around your fingers.

“Who are you cumming for, Binnie?” you ask, taking your hand back.

“You.”

“Hm?” you feign ignorance.

“You!”

“Who?”

“You, noona,” he moans.

“Okay, gorgeous, you can cum.”

“Thank you.”

With a final moan that sounds an awful lot like your name, Changbin cums, making Jisung whine out in his high, cracked little voice at the feeling of it. You lean back, just watching and enjoying, as they both come down.

Two down, one to go.

Chan is still waiting for you, though you wouldn’t doubt that he’s a little less patient than he was at the beginning of the session. He’s sitting back against the headboard again when you turn around, just watching you. You notice that he’s actually sitting on top of his hands, and you smile disdainfully at him.

“Oh, peach,” you say, “Are you so fucking desperate that you have to sit on your pretty little hands, to keep from disobeying me?”

“I’ve listened to you, noona,” Chan says.

“Is it so hard for you to be good?” you chide.

“It’s not!” he insists weakly.

“Shit, I think we could go again,” Jisung comments offhandedly, breaking your train of thought.

You look at him, suppressing your smile in favor of a cool stare. “Can you not let me deal with our sweet peach for two fucking minutes?”

“I’m just sayin’,” Jisung defends, holding up his hands in surrender. “Refractory period? Great.”

You decide to ignore Jisung and his big mouth. Chan deserves some undivided attention, and you planned right from the start that you’d have him like this.

Rolling your eyes in Jisung’s direction, you crawl over and take hold of Chan’s boxers, and pull them down his pale pretty legs and off. He looks distinctly shy when he’s finally fully naked for you, so you return the favor by slipping off your ruined panties. You can feel two sets of eyes on your ass as you maneuver yourself onto Chan’s lap.

You’re delighted to find that if you sit up perfectly straight, you’re taller than him. Tall enough that he has to tilt his head back to look at you. He’s all wide brown eyes and handsome flushed skin, and you stare down at him fondly.

“What do you want, peach?” you ask.

“You…” Chan trails.

You walk your hand up his shoulder, up into his hair, and tug at the back of his head. He tilts his chin up, leaning into the action, exposing his long beautiful neck to you. You can’t help it – you lean in and indulgently bite into the skin on the side of his throat.

“What about me?” you ask against his flesh.

You can feel Chan swallow. “I want…to fuck you, noona.”

“I know you can ask nicely.”

As you trail down and add another bite under the first, leaving your mark behind on his porcelain skin, Chan shows you just how well he can ask.

“Please, noona,” he breathes, “I can make you feel good, like Changbinnie, better than Changbinnie, wanna fuck you so good and fill-”

He cuts off with an embarrassed whimper, as if he’d almost let something slip. Unluckily for him, you have a pretty good idea what he was about to say.

“Oh, peach, you’re dirty,” you purr.

“I’m sorry, I-” Chan sputters, but you cut him off.

“No, no, no, no,” you shush him, “I like it.”

You lift yourself up slightly so that you can reach down and line him up with your pussy, and without preamble, you sink down on him. You know you’re still wet and sloppy from before, and Chan groans shamelessly as you settle your hips firmly against his.

“You can have me, but you’re doing all the work,” you inform him.

Apparently, that’s no problem for Chan, because he plants his feet on the mattress for leverage and begins pistoning upwards into you. You rise onto your knees slightly to meet him, making him work harder, rise higher to chase what he wants.

His pace is brutal, his hips moving precise and intense against yours, and you’re shocked to feel a second, penetrative orgasm rising on its own. You’re still so sensitive from cumming the first time, you know you’re not going to last very long. But Chan is having a similar problem.

“I’m not…I’m not going to last, noona, I’m-” Chan moans, sounding embarrassed by it.

You coo at him. His self-consciousness, even this far into a scene, is so endearing.

“Did you get all worked up watching Jisung and Changbin have their fun?” you ask, patronizing.

Chan nods, throwing his head all the way back as he chases his high, driving into you hard. “So good, noona, it was so good…”

You glance over your shoulder at the other two, the mention of them making you wonder what they’re up to, unattended over there, and you’re met with quite the scene.

“It seems like they’re enjoying us, too,” you say.

Chan brings his head forward again with what seems like a tremendous amount of effort, and peels his eyes open. When he sees his boyfriends behind you, his breakneck pace finally stutters.

“Fuck,” he groans, “Oh, Jesus Christ-”

Jisung is standing beside the bed, bracing himself against the wall like he’ll collapse if left only to his own strength. Which is valid, because Changbin is knelt between his legs, Jisung’s cock down his throat and Jisung’s hand on the back of his head, guiding him.

“They weren’t kidding about being ready another round,” you joke, and to your utter delight, Chan laughs.

“And I wasn’t kidding about – noona, fuck,” Chan whimpers, “I’m not – can I cum, noona?”

You hum. “You wanna fill me up, peach?”

Chan’s breath hitches at your words, and if it’s even possible, he begins fucking into you harder. He’s hitting you just right inside, cockhead brushing against that delicious spot and making stars dance in your vision. You can count on one hand how many times you’ve cum just from a partner like this, and you’re salivating at the idea of it. You’re so damn close.

“Yes,” he whines, “Noona please let me, I’ll make you feel so good, I promise, fill you up with my cum and – and-”

“You’ve waited long enough for me, peach,” you say, reaching up to cup his face in both of your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes. “Cum.”

On command, like the good boy he is, Chan cries out, high pitched and absolutely beautiful, and cums. And then, surprise of surprises, he snakes one hand down between the two of you and finds your clit, rubbing into the poor sore nerves like he might die if he doesn’t make you cum.

And you do. You can’t even choke down the squeak of “Chan, oh, fuck!” as you clamp down on him, pleasure bursting behind your eyelids like fireworks and warming you all the way down to your toes.

As your orgasm fades and the world comes back into focus around you, the first thing you see is Chan’s self-satisfied little smile. That smug bastard…

You grin back at him, pushing him away by the chest, “Shut up.”

Gingerly, you climb off his softening cock and off his lap entirely, to throw yourself down haphazardly on the bed. Chan collapses across you, landing heavy over your legs and making you protest for your poor ankles.

“I can confidently say, that was fantastic,” comes Chan’s muffled voice, facedown in the mattress as he is.

“Seconded,” says Jisung.

You tilt your head back to see Jisung and Changbin peering down at you, both looking heavy-eyed and swollen-lipped. They look as drained as you feel, and just as satisfied.

“That was a hell of a show, (Y/N)-noona,” Changbin says.

“Glad you liked it, I worked really hard,” you tease. “Does anyone need water? Food?”

“Cuddles,” mumbles Chan.

“Yeah, you have to stay the night, noona, aftercare and cuddling is non-negotiable,” Jisung agrees.

Changbin nods. “We’re even better at that than the sex.”

It shouldn’t be as touching as it is that they want you to stay. But fondness wells up in your chest, soft delight that they seem to enjoy your platonic company just as much as your sexual company. But this bed is disgusting. Changbin needs to wash his sheets, there’s no way you can sleep here in the miasma of lube and bodily fluids.

And besides, the four of you need to talk about all of this at some point. You’re still their classmate, after all, at least until the end of the semester, and an impromptu hookup like this can lead to some real awkward class meetings. Some pillow talk, some cuddles, and some Gatorade are all in order here.

So you smile, wide and honest and mischievous, and stand up on shaky legs to head for the bedroom door. The boys look confused at your seemingly sudden departure, and you cock a thumb at the other bedroom, across the hall.

“Now, Channie, where’s that pillow fort I heard so much about?”

[kitkatopinions]

About jaune (this is coming from someone who barely cares about canon anymore) but what was even jaune purpose in ending of vol8. Some people are simply blaming it on self insert miles that's it. Other on shitty writing. My guess is simple. Fandom talked how it should be ruby, weiss, nora or someone else. But authors probably wanted winter to get power but she was busy. If weiss or ruby would kill penny and don't get power fandom would go ballistic so they used someone who can't get them anymay.

I think for me, I'm just very frustrated this is even a conversation, because it feels so unnatural no matter what explanation is given.

This is what I'm talking about when I say that the hand of the author is so clear in RWBY in a very bad way. Every member of Team RWBY is either already out of the picture or preoccupied, which is something the writer's specifically did. There were too many author given reasons why it couldn't be Ruby (they didn't want her to be a Maiden, Ruby already proved she wouldn't kill Penny, nobody knows how Silver Eyes and Maiden powers would work.) They couldn't have Penny think about Pietro in her last moments, probably because they wanted the powers to go to someone the audience already knows. They couldn't have Penny give the powers to clearly currently in need Weiss who was fighting Cinder and who was supposed to be her friend who we're supposed to think has been trustworthy and good this entire time (unlike how we were supposed to perceive Winter,) probably because the writers have said that they don't want any of the four main girls to be Maidens. They couldn't have Nora (a non-healer who could use more development) be the one there with Penny, because then the Maiden powers might go to her, and they didn't want that and my best guess for why is because Nora actually isn't much of a character still due to them writing her around Ren and they don't know what to do with her and don't want to actually give her an important story arc. It's also possible though that they just didn't want to give the Maiden powers to someone in Team RWBYJNOR at all because they want to be able to bench Maidens whenever they want and removing main characters is harder than removing side characters. (Another possible explanation is that they're planning on giving Nora Spring or Summer Maiden powers, but eh, I don't know if that'll happen.)

They also could have had Winter actually be there and have Winter be the one Penny is talking to directly (thus making a 'Penny sees Winter in a mindscape or some shit unnecessary since it makes no goddamn sense with the other Maidens,) but they really wanted Winter to 'confront Ironwood' and 'stick it to the man' about how much she never believed anything she'd previously seemed to believe, to tell the fandom that she's perfect and always loved Team RWBY and isn't responsible for anything she did before now and not to pay attention to the martial law she suggested long before James did.

So the options of who's left to be with Penny when she dies and to follow Team RWBY into the void was limited. They could've arguably chosen Ren, who had gotten more emphasis in the last two seasons than he usually does, but I think it's pretty clear that the writer's want Ren right back where he was (a background character who just does whatever Jaune and Nora do,) and his moment in the spotlight of those volumes was meant to signify that Ren was doing bad by thinking outside the group and not just doing whatever Jaune, Nora, and Ruby want, since they probably didn't want main cast like Yang to actually get to explore disagreements with her team. And so Jaune THE HEALER with a bad history literally about DEAD REDHEADED WOMEN that's already had a rocky history of overtaking the female leads because the MALE WRITERS give him more development and more importance in plots, HE was the one chosen to murder Penny in order to preserve power on Penny's request. And that never had to happen. None of it had to happen. It was just the writer's forcing everyone else to be otherwise occupied, forcing Penny to not go through the portals right away, forcing Winter to be the one Penny thinks of, forcing Jaune to be the one to go to her, forcing Jaune to stop trying to use his semblance, forcing Penny to just randomly know 'there's no hope,' and forcing Jaune to do something horrible that has to impact him emotionally, thus backing THEMSELVES into a corner in regards to showing the after effects of Penny's death, and thus digging their own grave in regards to the fandom because they know how Jaune is viewed and his history as a character and they just don't care.

Because now they got their boring Winter Maiden Winter with her back-to-blue Maiden fire eyes looking sad and having boring fights with fucking Cinder. And they don't have to bother with Penny anymore now that they ruined the themes and messages of her original character arc and personhood.

But they could've done tons of other different things!

They could've kept Penny alive. They could've had her go to Vacuo with Jaune and have to face her destiny that she never even really wanted in the first place while grappling with Ruby's 'death' and her father's disappearance, while training up and trying to get used to the (totally unnecessary) human body she also didn't want. They could've given us a Maiden Nora or a Maiden Weiss despite whatever plan they had, rolling with the situation they made and deciding to embrace what makes the most sense instead of what they originally planned. They could've not had all four members of Team RWBY fall in the first place, thus making Jaune's presence less annoying, splitting the girls again and letting some of them progress outside of the group think, while keeping Ruby in Vacuo to deal with consequences directly and immediately. I was originally hoping that Jaune, Yang, and Weiss would fall, and that Blake, Ruby, and Ren and Nora would all make it to Vacuo, and that Jaune would be more of a support role for the two girls who really need more moments together, since they haven't gotten much since volume five. They could've had Ren be the one to have to kill Penny and then fall into the Void, thus keeping Jaune sidelined for hopefully the whole of the next season. They could've had Winter be there with Penny like a suggested before. They could've had Pietro be there anyway since they're the ones that orchestrated the entire situation with Pietro being lost out in the tundra, and could've just not done that, and he could've been with Penny while she died and the Winter Maiden powers could've gone to someone at random again, thus upping the stakes and giving some characters who arguably should be removed from the plot anyway something to do by going out in search of Maidens. They could've had Pietro be in Penny's last thoughts even if he wasn't there, thus having the Maiden powers go to someone at random. Or, even if they had Jaune (or Ren) deal the blow, they could've had them be in Penny's last thoughts accidentally, since it's really hard to control what you think and you know, Penny was getting murdered by them. Which would've had the powers go to someone at random and have people have to hunt for them. They could've had Ruby be there and be the one to hold Penny as she just died from her wounds with no murder necessary, since they're the ones that wrote that her wound needed extra murder in the first place, and they could've had Ruby think she's going to get the Maiden powers only for her to not get them, and it goes to someone else (maybe Winter, maybe Weiss, maybe someone at random, idk,) and later find out that SEWs aren't compatible as Maidens. They could've had May stick around and see Penny get hurt, go to help her, wind up with the powers, and fall into the void with the girls, thus making the first Trans character in the show more of a major role and keeping around an interesting character who doesn't fall into the same 'interchangeable mold' that Team RWBY sometimes feels trapped in. They could've had the powers wind up with Cinder, and give her a bigger win so that for once she doesn't look like a total chump and might get to actually be a threat, and give Ruby more of a personal reason to hate her and be affected by her. They could've had Ruby have to see Cinder kill her friend who we've actually seen Ruby be close to (since we didn't actually see her and Pyrrha interact much,) and they could've had Ruby flashback to the Fall of Beacon. They could've had the powers go to Neo over the course of the fight, making Cinder actually have a reason to try to kill and betray Neo (for her power) instead of just tossing out the lesson she supposedly learned from Ruby the second she learned it by murdering valuable assets because 'they threatened me ungh' like a whiny baby who doesn't know a good thing. Then we and the writers get to have a fun experience with a wildcard Maiden who might hate Ruby, but now hates Cinder, and can be a more chaotic force, and it might propel Neo into finally getting some real focus that (much as

I love him) isn't entirely focused on Roman. They could've had Emerald be the one with Penny when she died, and have Emerald desperately try to save her, only to have Penny die on her anyway and have Emerald get powers she doesn't want that she thinks of as Penny's power that she has to use to fight Cinder and protect people from Cinder despite Emerald having cared about her so much and despite Emerald having been abused by her. Which, bonus, makes us as an audience actually see how Cinder feels about being betrayed by Emerald. And then Emerald could fall into the Void with Team RWBY and we could get to see some direct growth in her redemption arc. And it'd just be so perfect to come full circle with Emerald having been the one to kill Penny for Cinder originally, but then tried hard to save her from Cinder and now wants to be better partially for Penny's sake and wants to carry on Penny's legacy fighting against Cinder and Salem. They could've had Penny die all on her own without Jaune around at all and transfer the Maiden powers to Winter without begging a man to kill her cause she can't make even that choice that we're supposed to think was her only choice without the help of someone else. This one is the most boring, but hey, it gets the writers what they wanted without Jaune. And finally, they could've just never brought Penny back at all.

The writers didn't have to have the story go the way it did, they chose to have the story go the way it did. And sometimes they did it in ways that didn't make sense. They could've done all sorts of things that would've either made more sense or kept someone else more in focus instead of Jaune.

I think that scene and Penny's whole season 8 character arc was a result of the writers having a plan, forcing it into place no matter what didn't make sense as a result, and them not caring at all that Jaune once again became too in the focus for them to do it. Oh! Also, Jaune could've made it through the portal at the end. Just throwing it out there that even if they forced Jaune into the role of Penny-murderer, they could've at least not thrown him into the void with Team RWBY. But yeah, those are my thoughts on that whole... Debacle.

[everythingsinred]

Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 24)

Hello, friends. The story is rapidly approaching an end. I imagine I'll only be posting for another couple weeks (maybe three at the most) before this essay draws to a close.

Last night we wrapped up the Time Travel Arc. Now we return to the larger parent arc, the Escape Arc. Mikan has made up her mind to escape the school with her mother, and although this breaks Natsume's heart, he'll do all he can to get her out safely without at all complaining. If she's leaving for good, then the only thing that matters to him for the next little bit is keeping her as safe as possible. After that, he's resigned himself to a lonely and imminent death... And then Mikan has an epiphany.

Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Four

They’re finally all back in the present. The room they left is now empty, and they wonder what happened. Undoubtedly the situation is more pressing than ever.

Mikan is concerned about everyone’s safety, but Natsume makes it clear that the priority is making sure she can make it out of the academy with her mother. If she’s going to leave, then he will do everything he can to make sure the process goes as smoothly and safely for her as possible. Her concerns about everyone else have no place here when everyone’s dreams and futures are threatened by the ESP if he ever gets his hands on Mikan’s alices. Besides, his happiness and safety always come dead last to him. He’d act and speak this way, even if it was only Mikan’s well-being on the line.

He will protect her no matter what happens, he says. That’s his priority. This is no different than the way he’s been living for the last year or so.

Yeah, there's the whole thing with the school and protecting the student body and stopping the ESP but Mikan is his priority always.

Everyone else agrees, and Mikan is outvoted. She comes first now.

Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Seven

Mikan and her friends run into a horde of students, either controlled by Luna’s alice or afraid that they’ll end up being controlled or punished. They all move to attack Mikan in particular, to capture her because maybe they’ll even be rewarded for it.

This is a mistake, because Natsume will not allow anything to happen to her. He uses his alice to fend off the students, but his fire takes a strange shape, unlike anything he’s ever made before. His ability to manipulate the shape better than ever is a result of the stone Mikan inserted into him, which Tsubasa theorizes is psychokinesis.

Ruka pleads with him to stop, concerned about Natsume’s health the more he uses his alice. He immediately stops on the behest of his best friend, but then he uses his new alice to pull everyone over closer to him. Mikan specifically flies into his arms, where he wanted her. He’s able to catch her, whereas the others land on their heads. Now that they’re safer, he tells her to teleport them.

Who cares where the rest of them land? They can deal with it on their own.

Tsubasa comments that this extra power makes Natsume feel like more of a man, more powerful. This isn’t a farfetched theory. We know how much Natsume wants to grow up, to have power. Now that he has this extra alice, he’s more useful than he already was, and that naturally translates into some extra confidence.

Another thing is that Natsume is putting his all into getting Mikan out safe. He’s willing to expend all his energy and alice in order to accomplish his goal. Adding on to that, he knows he won’t see her again after this. He can hold on for a little longer, but to survive the unknowable amount of years before he can see her again? Unlikely. He doubted he’d even be able to graduate, let alone be on standby for possibly a decade and maybe even more. He has no reason to believe he’ll make it. So he keeps her close now. He’ll be right by her side ‘til the very end, take advantage of every touch and interaction he can. So even if everyone else collapses onto the ground after he uses his extra alice, Mikan will land safely in his arms.

Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Nine

Natsume may have spared Nobara earlier, but he still doesn’t really trust her. She’s been acting weird this whole time and he’s suspicious. When they have a moment, he confronts her, warning her that if she sells them out to Persona, he won’t go easy on her. After all, to him, she’s still the girl who’s always been Persona’s little pet.

But Nobara doesn’t want to sell them out. She wants to stop Persona and her DA friends from hurting the cause and themselves. She wants to stop them so they don’t become a part of the fight.

She stands back so she doesn’t teleport again with the rest of them. She wants to do this for Mikan.

Mikan doesn’t understand. She’s concerned that she left Nobara behind, so she says she’ll go back to get her, but Natsume stops her. She needs to allow Nobara to make her own choice. Even if Mikan doesn’t get it, the only thing that matters is their original mission. Nothing will change that. He won’t be strayed from it, no matter what obstacles come their way. Nobara made the choice, and she’s the best person to confront the DA class. The rest of them should allow her to do as she wants.

They move forward, and Natsume keeps back when he feels his coughing fit coming on. Now that everything is dire, he definitely doesn’t want to slow things down by worrying people with his body. He worries that he won’t be able to properly protect Mikan, considering the shape he’s in, but he would never say that out loud.

Death creeps ever closer... Why isn't he ever concerned for himself?

Even more, Nobara stressed before she left that Natsume was the most important person to stay by Mikan's side, that he should protect her to the end. Though he wouldn't be so bold to say that about himself, he wants to stay 'til the end. But the fact that he might die at any moment doesn't reassure him. However, any insecurities or fears he has must stay in his mind. He wants to be strong for Mikan, to accomplish their goal and keep her safe. He’s pushed any and all feelings of his own out the window. All that matters is their goal.

He can die afterwards.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Four

Mikan needs to go to her mother. She and Ruka are to teleport to Yuka, since Ruka has the barrier alice and he can keep her safe. The rest of them are going to hold off the Fuukitai and other enemies. There’s really no time for heartfelt goodbyes. Natsume might never see Mikan again, but he turns away because there’s no time for anything else. He will fight off the enemies to keep her safe. That’s what he can do. Anything else will just waste precious time.

Except that Mikan has the telepathy alice now. She’s mostly kept it a secret, sharing it with Hotaru and nobody else.

Natsume can stay silent all he wants, but his heart and mind are racing with thoughts and feelings. She couldn’t ignore it if she wanted to. It’s not the time to be lollygagging. She has to get going, and everyone is urging her to move on and teleport with Ruka, but she’s hesitating.

And then Natsume hears it too. She’s saying it back, telepathically, that she loves him too.

Terrible timing, Mikan. You had all night to say it back! (joking)

It’s all he’s never allowed himself to want to hear. Something that would only happen in a delusional fantasy world. Mikan may care about him, to some degree, but he’d never expected she would love him back. She should love Ruka, who is kind and polite, or literally anybody else. He’s always had to push her away, and even if she saw through his insults to see what he really meant, he still wouldn’t be good enough. He can’t be with her, because his life is running out. He shouldn’t be with her, because all he will do is cause her more pain. He’ll never be with her, because he doesn’t deserve to be. He won’t be with her, because she’s running away with her mother and he’ll never see her again.

But she loves him too anyway.

Despite every insult and attempt to keep his distance. Despite their beginnings of mutual disdain. Despite how he’s said he hated everything about her, about how he wanted her out of his sight. Despite acting like she was a pest and nothing more than an annoyance. Despite everything he did, she somehow still loves him.

It’s the worst thing to ever happen to him, to stand there and hear her saying that in his mind and then watch her disappear forever.

He’s said it out loud only one time. He confessed with his kiss at Christmas, with his alice stone, with the borrowing race, with his speech to the ESP. He’s confessed with every time he got in front of her to protect her, with every cruel word forced out of him by the higher ups, with every smile he had just for her.

Now she finally said it back and it’s too late for anything. He can’t kiss her and show her how much he means it, how much it isn’t just hype over nothing. He can’t tell her he loves her to her face and with his whole chest. He can’t take her by the hand and run away with her. He can’t live happily ever after with her.

That was all okay before, when it was just him who was suffering. So his life would be lonely and short. Okay. Who cares? But now he knows she wants all that too.

He’s miserable. He calls out to her but it’s too late. She’s gone now and all he can do is fight the enemies who want to threaten her security.

Natsume has been left behind with Tono and Tsubasa to fight as hard as they can against the Fuukitai. When they finally get away for a moment, Tono tells them to fight for the girls they love. Tsubasa and Natsume both berate him for this, because who was he talking about? Tono argues it wasn’t about him; he was just trying to cheer the two up after they had to break apart from their girls.

Natsume is clearly in emotional turmoil, but he frequently is, so he doesn’t let it show a lot. He may threaten Tono with his alice or tease him with Tsubasa like all is normal, but it’s not. His current circumstances couldn’t be any worse unless Mikan were in danger, and he’s doing everything he can to keep that from happening.

Tono finally admits that he’s been nervous this whole time because Noda is probably the traitor among them, but Natsume realizes the truth: It’s Goshima.

Tsubasa and Tono are going to try and find Goshima, who has the key Yuka and Mikan need to escape. They also need someone to go and tell them that Goshima can’t be trusted, and Tono wants Natsume to do it.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Five

Tono is urging Natsume to go and tell Mikan about Goshima, to go protect her. Naturally, he doesn’t hesitate before taking off. Any excuse to see her again and keep her safe is enough for him.

Tsubasa doesn’t understand why Tono sent him off, though, since Natsume is in such bad shape. Having him run and exert himself further seems wrong.

I just want him to be happy. Is that really so much to ask?

Tono puts it all into perspective. It had to be Natsume. The kid was in a state of absolute misery, even knowing his love is requited and perhaps because of it. He can never see Mikan again. His life will end. The rest of them can talk about decades and decades into the future and still be sure that they will meet Mikan again, but it’s clear that Natsume won’t make it that far. As Tono puts it, it’s important that Natsume has a chance to see her for the last time, to say good-bye properly.

Natsume would go to her no matter what, too, and he does, running with all his might to find her, even though he’s coughing and his body is breaking.

He will use his alice and do anything he can to find her and tell her and keep her safe, and they finally meet again.

He’s standing over the bodies of enemies that he’s just defeated for her, and he finally has a chance to say the good-bye he thought he’d never get.

There are other things that need to be said, but he might not have a chance to say his feelings again if he doesn’t take the opportunity now. He’s sad, because no matter what, their story will end soon. But this is more than he could’ve asked for.

But all of the words that should come out of his mouth don’t. He doesn’t talk about the traitor. He doesn’t tell her he loves her to her face. He doesn’t say anything except her name. None of the feelings he has can be put into words. For the moment he’s speechless.

She is too. She rushes into his arms and they share a quick second of holding each other before they inevitably part forever. The fact that she hugs him might have reminded him that she loves him too. Then again, how could he forget? Either way, he finds the words that were lost to him before.

He’s going to stay with her until the very last second. He won’t leave her or part from her for even a moment again until they have to say good-bye for good.

No, they won't last. She'll leave and he'll die, but they have this moment, even if it's the only thing they'll ever have.

No, he doesn’t mention the traitor even though he was sent to. Natsume very rarely talks about his feelings, but they felt so important this time that he had to say them out loud.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Six

Even though Natsume didn’t say it to Mikan, Shiki got the information from him via telepathy and then conveyed the information to Yuka.

Now that Yuka and Mikan are reunited, they can all go to see them off, fighting Fuukitai and Luna along the way. Narumi and Mikan are trapped in an enemy’s ice alice for a moment, until Natsume melts the ice and takes Mikan’s hand. He wasn’t joking about staying by her side until the very end.

Until the very last moment.

Sure, she needed to reunite with her mother and Narumi, but they’ll be spending forever with her after this night. He only has these next few minutes. He’ll be the one to take her by the hand until he has no choice but to let go. Until then, he will stay by her side.

Lucky for them, Yuka’s plan to wait until the last moment for the key so they can leave with Naru panned out. “Tsubasa” arrives with the key and hands it off. There’s no time to waste; Yuka rushes to open the warp-hole but all that comes from it is an explosion.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Seven

Yuka and Narumi were caught in the blast. Yuka shielded Narumi with her body and took the brunt of the hit. She’s now in critical condition.

No hesitation. That's his only keepsake from his mother, his only reprieve from endless pain, but he'll give it Yuka because he can't not give it to her.

Natsume doesn’t hesitate, and he gives Mikan the healing alice stone that his mother got from Yuka. Yuka is Mikan’s mother. Her death would be crushing for Mikan, who’s already had to face so much trauma from watching her father die too. This all was about getting Mikan and Yuka out safely, and all that effort would be in vain if Yuka dies. And after Natsume has seen everything that happened in the past, he respects Yuka too. All Yuka has ever done is suffer, just like he has. To simply die after all that--he doesn’t want that either. Yuka gave his mother that alice stone, something that brought him a little reprieve whenever he had a coughing fit or felt ill. The least he can do now is give it back.

But it doesn’t work. It’s not enough. Yuka has enough time before her death to hug Mikan and apologize to Luna, but then her heart stops.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Eight

The ESP arrives to break the period of mourning. Luna can’t believe that he would orchestrate this, but it’s not much of a surprise to anyone else. The “Tsubasa” decoy reveals himself to be Goshima, who holds Mikan by the wrists. The ESP only needed one person with the stealing alice. Yuka had become extendable, so he eliminated her.

Goshima goes to surrender Mikan to the ESP, but she fights, and Natsume moves to fight too, because that’s his girlfriend and he promised he would keep her safe. But the ESP always has the barrier alice cast on him, always protected, even from Natsume’s strong alice. Even Natsume can’t help Mikan now.

But Shiki breaks the ESP’s barrier and Mikan rushes to her friends’ side.

Z is invading the school and threatening to take the students captive. The MSP needs her successor, Shiki to be appointed so that he can protect the school with his barrier alice. The ESP is in a bind. Shiki can either run away with Mikan as Yuka had intended to, or he will agree to stay and act as the MSP to protect the school.

Conclusion

God this arc is a mess when all you want are the NM moments. How dare they be so scattered! Anyways, Natsume now knows that Mikan loves him too, romantically, but everything has been upside down for a while, specifically tonight, so the future doesn't look bright. In the next part, we'll talk about how Natsume feels about being separated from Mikan when she's locked away.

Sorry this is late. I'm not in a fantastic mood today which affected my motivation. I shoved a bunch of content in here and it might be too much. I don't know. There wasn't a clear way I could cut it into multiple parts without them being choppy and short as hell. I just wanted to get to the next part because this arc was stressing me out.

In any case, I feel like crap right now emotionally, because this day was very draining. I'll try to post tomorrow at a reasonable time. Thank you for reading.

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[lassieposting]

I'm mad at myself for asking this but 💘 skug/alt!Serpine

WHEEZES

U CONVERTED

send me 💘 + A SHIP and i’ll tell you—

where they first met and how

KOTW.

Then, after Skug refuses to kill Serpine at the end of SOW, China spitefully makes him responsible for Serpine's behaviour while he's living in Roarhaven. "Parole officer" isn't part of Skug's job description but honestly he doesn't trust anyone else to make sure Serpine doesn't slip the leash, so

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved

I mean, Serpine literally gets his dick out in their very first scene together, and he throws his towel over Val's head so it clearly wasn't for her benefit.

My headcanon is that he did have the hots for his own dimension's Skulduggery before he died. But Serpine has a very warped experience of emotions - he's not insane, and he's not a complete psychopath, but he has very low empathy, an obsessive personality, a considerable sadistic streak and a tendency to be jealous, narcissistic and manipulative. So his crush on Skug was more like an unhealthy fixation - hatred and lust and humiliation and the need to control, all tangled together.

On Skug's side...he has a few lines that read as flirty, in a D/S kind of way. But honestly I don't think this was deliberate. I get the impression he's actually imitating how Serpine spoke to him when he was the prisoner. Serpine's entire arc in SOW can be condensed down to "microdosing on what he put Skug through before killing him". He's surrounded by enemies who want him dead, he loses a body part, he's beaten up, he's humiliated, he's cut off from his magic - and he hates it. I get the vibe that this isn't lost on Skug, and he's repeating things Serpine once mockingly said to him just to rub it in.

who fell for who first ( if applicable )

Serpine.

I have him converting to the Church of the Faceless as a teenager, so he's spent his entire adult life surrounded by other selfish, scheming social climbers who'd sell him to Satan for a corn chip. His relationship history is chock full of psychopaths. He's used to betrayal and being used by his partners - such is life, as a bad guy.

So Skug protecting him during the Leibniz mission makes quite an impact. He even says himself that Skug has every reason to hate him and want to make him suffer - which is an attempt at empathy considerably deeper than anything we've seen from him before - but he's still shocked and devastated when Skug cuts his hand off. He genuinely expected Skug to decide to fight their way out rather than harm him. To me, that says he's come to rely on having Skug in his corner, which is a security net he is decidedly not used to having.

He doesn't necessarily express it very well? His feelings are complicated, and he doesn't understand most of them. A good part of him still hates Skug, just as a good part of Skug will always hate him. But his fixation on Skug shifts a bit - rather than obsessing over him as an enemy, he obsesses over him as an ally. He starts wanting Skug's approval and digging for praise, he gets sulky and jealous if Skug implies he doesn't trust him or goes to someone else for help or information instead, and he starts trying to insert himself into Skug's life.

Basically, he's gotten over that he spent the past 300 years as Skug's enemy, so Skug needs to be over it too. Right now. And it's unreasonable and unfair that he isn't over it.

where their first date was and what it was like

Skug is willing to acknowledge that if they were a couple, which they're not, because they're arch enemies, then maybe, if you really had to look at anything they do as "a date" then...perhaps the first time they went to the opera could in some way be considered their first date. But it wasn't. Because they're not together. He doesn't even like Serpine. Valkyrie just doesn't appreciate "yowling" and he had nobody else to go with because all his friends are dead.

Serpine will agree with this - but only because he knows that announcing that he lowkey considers their three day torture extravaganza to be their first date would go down like a lead balloon.

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? )

They never have a "going steady" discussion. It's just

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away

They're adamant that there's nothing to let anyone know about. They spend a lot of time together, and sometimes Serpine helps with cases, and they angry fuck sometimes, and Skug keeps a few shirts and a toothbrush at Serpine's apartment, but they're not a couple.

who’s more dominant

Skug. Serpine will die mad about it. He complains constantly about how much he gets manhandled during the Leibniz mission, how undignified it is to be cut off from his magic, how everyone tells him to shut up every time he tries to join in a conversation, he hates you all, remember that time he killed people you all cared about?

Unfortunately, Serpine is a massively subby bottom, so dom!Skug makes him deeply horny and even more angry about it. He's the epitome of "Stop looking at my fucking boner when we fight."

where their first kiss was and what it was like

It's New Year's. Serpine is out at a bar with some of his student neighbours because, why not. Skug is at the same bar, questioning the staff about a grizzly murder. The usual. Serpine goes over to say hello and make fun of him for Always Working and tell him he should chill out on occasion because isn't it your fucking birthday and you're still at work??? They're still talking when the countdown finishes and everyone around them starts kissing, which is a completely new concept to Serpine because that tradition wasn't part of the Leibniz dimension's New Year's festivities, so he just sort of panics because everyone else is doing it, grabs Skug by the front of his coat and goes for it.

Skug freezes, because who would know how to react when the man who killed you once tries to go to town on your fake face, and then gets his shit together and promptly arrests Serpine for assaulting a Sanctuary official, because he's petty and he can and Nef needs to learn some fucking boundaries.

They end up lowkey working on the case together through the bars of the temporary holding cell, and although neither of them would admit it, they actually have a good time. At the end of the night Skug relents, lets him out for "good behaviour" and gives him a lift home.

how into pda they are

Serpine is hugely into PDA. He likes a possessive, jealous partner, he's got a bit of an exhibitionistic streak, and ultimately he wants to be wanted enough to be fought over.

Unfortunately for him, Skug is not a PDA fan in the slightest. Serpine finds this bitterly disappointing.

where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable )

A Roarhaven restaurant with a live jazz band. Serpine likes the food, Skug likes the music, and it's public - so neither of them feels wrongfooted and vulnerable in the other one's territory. Although, as Serpine likes to point out, it would be a bit difficult to torture and dismember a man in his student accommodation apartment. If he can hear Maddie-across-the-hall having muffled sex with her latest beau from the far side of his flat , he's pretty sure the entire building would hear Skug fighting his way out of whatever diabolical trap he seems to think has been set for him every time he comes over.

who’s more protective

Skug is more obviously protective - he protects Serpine almost the entire time in Leibniz, rows with China in defence of his freedom, and (however reluctantly) steps up to help him settle in Roarhaven. But Serpine is territorial, and he can be surprisingly proactive about it. If Skug comes home injured, he can always tell - no matter how much he tries to hide it - because he's seen Skug at his very worst, he knows what 'trying to mask pain' looks like in the set of that jaw and the grit in that voice. He doesn't like anyone else playing with his toys, so sometimes he'll get very angry and lash out at whoever damaged Skug in the first place.

(He also tends to hover at the clinic like a particularly irritating bad smell. He insists it's because he just finds Skug's pain amusing. He's not concerned. Not in the slightest. He doesn't care at all. No, he will not go home.)

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ )

They first hook up a few months after returning from Leibniz, but it's a half-dressed up-against-a-wall sort of thing and neither of them sticks around for pillow talk. They don't actually share a bed - as in, fall asleep together - until at least a year later. Technically, the first time they fall asleep together, they're on a stakeout and Serpine dozes off on Skug's shoulder, then wakes up with a cricked neck.

if they argue about anything

Literally everything, 90% of their interactions are arguing. Bickering and snark is the only way they know how to communicate.

who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. )

Serpine loves leaving marks and doesn't mind getting them, either. He's territorial and has an exhibitionist streak, so he likes everyone knowing who he belongs to, and he's deeply thirsty over the idea of everyone knowing Skug belongs to him.

Unfortunately, Skug is not easy to leave marks on. Any hickies he gives the facade will disappear as soon as Skug turns it off. Some of his scars still show, though - the ones that scored his bones - so at least there's that.

who steals whose clothes and how often

They're not too different in size, so they could probably both get away with it, but everything Skug owns was tailored for him and Nef is narrower in the shoulders, so Skug's shirts don't look quite right on him. That doesn't stop him borrowing a couple to wear around the house, though. He has no stored wealth in this dimension, so he's wearing off the rack until he can get his feet under him again, and Skug's shirts are all obnoxiously fine fabric. It would be silly not to steal a few.

how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? )

They're not that cuddly. They do have occasional moments of softness, but it's more likely to be, like. A shoulder bump. Fixing each other's shirt collar. Tending an injury with a minimum of mockery. They do a fair bit of this when no one's watching, though.

what their favourite nonsexual activity is

Bickering.

They also both like working cases. The Sanctuary won't officially hire Serpine because he is who he is, but when Skug hits a dead end in a case or has something that's really frustrating him, they'll go over it together. 400 years of enmity aside, their minds work in similar ways, and they're both very good at that sort of thing - if they hadn't met on opposite sides of the battlefield, they probably would have gotten along very well.

how long they stay mad at each other

They've never actually not been mad at each other. They're just all each other has left because all their friends are dead.

what their usual coffee / tea orders are

Initially, both black - maximum stimulants for Skug, maximum edginess for Serpine. But then he discovers Starbucks, and all the fancy things mortals are doing with coffee these days, and starts branching out into what Skug calls "frilly froufrou nonsense". After that his drinks are like 95% sugar and syrup.

if they ever split up and / or get back together

They never officially split up. This is mostly because neither of them will admit being together in the first place. They absolutely go through phases of being far more enemies than fuckbuddies, and they know how to push each other's buttons and hurt each other like no one else. This ship is comedic and incredibly toxic in turns.

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? )

They don't live together. Serpine has no idea where Skug lives, and Skug wants to keep it that way. Serpine's flat is technically student accommodation - he just needed somewhere the landlord was too young to remember him from the war - so when Skug crashes there it's usually cramped and noisy and there's a revolving door of neighbours knocking on to ask to borrow some milk/loo roll/"hey, you're old, help me with my history thesis?"/"Are you coming out tonight?"

All Serpine's neighbours think he's a sex worker - to them, he seems to have a different well-dressed sugar daddy staying over every week. They keep trying to set him up an OnlyFans. Skug finds all this very amusing.

what their first christmas / hanukkah / etc as a couple was like

Christmas was banned in Leibniz (as a religious holiday of a banned religion) so Nef hasn't celebrated since he converted in his teens, but he gets into it, because it's an excuse for a party and nobody is policing him. Skug is his usual grinchy grouchy self. Nef also celebrates several holidays that Skug isn't familiar with that were commonplace in Leibniz, but are only observed by strict Faceless worshippers in Roarhaven.

what their names are in each other’s phones

Skug is an old man about his contacts, so Nef is just "Nefarian Serpine".

Serpine, on the other hand, has recently discovered emojis, so Skug is "💀🍆".

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first

Who falls asleep first varies; Serpine is a night owl and likes to go to bed in the early hours of the morning, but Skug has some really fucked up working hours, so a lot of the time he's awake long after even the night owls have gone to bed. But it's always Skug who wakes up first - Serpine is Absolutely Not a morning person. He fits right in with the students in his building who have to be coaxed from under the quilt by the smell of frying bacon.

Skug, because he enjoys the odd opportunity to be an asshole, will sometimes wake him with a cup of coffee, and sometimes by holding a flame up to the fire alarm. Variety is the spice of life, Nefarian, didn't anyone ever tell you that?

who’s the big spoon / little spoon

Cuddling is fairly new to Serpine. He's always enjoyed sex, but he has a solid tendency to jump into bed with the enemy - as shown by his laundry list of Resistance conquests - so he's never really gone for relationships where cuddling is a thing. He's more into the "forbidden passion" sort of dynamic.

Skug is a cuddler, but not so much in this particular relationship, for obvious and understandable reasons. Serpine does figure out though that he can burrow under Skug's arm while he's half-asleep or in a postcoital fugue state and Skug will just sort of let him, so he's probably the little spoon.

who hogs the bathroom

Both of them.

Serpine lives in a tiny one bed flat in a student building. His bathroom is miniscule. And when Skug stays over, they're both crammed in there first thing, Serpine trying to shave and do his hair and Skug elbowing him out of the way to cycle through facades until he finds one that's handsome enough to leave the house in. They bicker horrendously the entire time. It's a logistical nightmare.

who kills the spiders / takes them outside

Nef kills them. Not because he knows Skug's not a fan, but because he's not allowed to torment humans anymore, so. Last time he checked, killing spiders wasn't an arrestable offence, Skulduggery, stop looking at him like that.