#it’s very… idk if violating is the right word but I think it would feel very invasive/uncomfortable

[shepscapades]

GLAD EVERYONE ENJOYED THE ANDROID INFO UPDATE ABOUT INTERFACING DFGJNDGKGNMXGHNCBNM

[dadsbongos]

So I recently had a thought about Chilchuck x reader. While drinking, Chilchuck discovers that the reader is a complete lightweight who got drunk after 2 drinks. Not only that, but reader who is usually reserved and quiet becomes rather giggly, vocal, and the smallest bit flirty. Maybe he sees what happens when the reader becomes even more drunk and backs himself into a corner when they become very flirty and forward about their feelings for him? :3

642 words / warnings - you imply you want to bang chilchuck maybe? idk its a vague comment take it how you will ~~~

Saying he was excited to see beneath the veil of brooding silence would go against his entire modus operandi, so Chilchuck would never say it aloud.

Yet he cannot fight the quiet snicker leaving him as you drunkenly giggle over some terribly unfunny joke spat by a tipsy Marcille. Party morale nights were his favorite: free ale and free entertainment.

“You should join us more often!” Marcille cheers.

“Oh, no,” you drawl, staring into your emptied mug -- your first mug, might he add, “I’m not a big drinker.”

“Obviously,” Chilchuck cannot bite the remark before it slithers out.

“Hey!” you whine, swirling on your stool you glare at him. Cheek smushed against your fist, “I’m just not a fan…”

“Because it reveals your actually tolerable side?”

“Rude!”

Chilchuck might’ve been worried about hurting your feelings if you weren’t laughing quietly, eyes fluttering shut as you hum displeased at his jab. That infamous furrow in your brows coming to life as you mull over a response, soft scowl dragging soon after.

“I think you said something you didn’t mean to, Chilchuck…”

“Huh?”

Refocusing your stare on him, you lean forward, “You pretty much just said I’m cuter when I drink.”

“Is that how you took it?” 

“It’s what you meant.”

Rolling his eyes, albeit with a chest full of mirth and warm cheeks, “Right.”

“I hope it was, anyway,” you confess, smile widening regardless of his following shock.

“What do you mean by that?!” he has to grab the table, knuckles whitening, to prevent from slipping backwards.

Shrugging coyly, you dip further into his personal space. Smelling of beer and perfume, “What do you want it to mean, Chilchuck?”

“You’re not making any sense,” he mutters, bringing up his maizer for a distracting gulp. Clenching his eyes shut when he can still make out the pretty way your lashes crown your cheeks each blink.

That itself is a mistake because now the sugary tones of your voice are further heightened in his reddening ears,

“There’s no shame, Chilchuck, I think you’re plenty cute.”

“Excuse you?” he’s thankful none of your party members catch his exclamation, or the slam of his cup against the table.

“Sorry,” you blurt, a muted gasp preceding your slurring afterthought, “Not cute in a demeaning way. Cute like I think you’d look nice in my bed.”

His jaw clatters to the floor: no way this is the same combat mage he’s been working with for months. The one that could barely return Marcille’s small talk without clamming up. The one that dodges Laios’ every attempt at monster-education. The one that quietly slips out of Falin’s sight whenever a protection spell violating personal space is required. The one that outranks Toshiro in most unapproachable. The one with a most notorious resting frown on their face.

Chilchuck was convinced you didn’t even like him as a coworker until you eagerly sat beside him at the table instead of joining Namari.

“W- what…?”

“You’re really attractive, seriously,” you bumble through the syllables, nose wrinkling in a disarmingly adorable chuckle at yourself, “I sound silly, huh?”

Rather than assure you he hardly cares, or that he’ll silently forget this entire admission, Chilchuck nods curtly and buries his nose into his cup again, “Yep.”

“Sorry, Chilchuck,” voice a coo, you relax back until you’re now invading Laios’ space. Head against the blonde’s shoulder.

Chilchuck’s most horrifying realization is that he’s awfully jealous of Laios in that moment.

But instead of saying that, he snarks bitterly,

“Tell me again when you’re sober.”

“Okay!”

Such sincerity makes him roll his eyes again, and once again he’s full of fondness and affection despite it all. Part of him even mourns how wasted you are, knowing you’ll wake up tomorrow with a headache and no memory of this: returning to the sulky attack mage he barely talks to.

[thestobingirlie]

There's this weird trend I've noticed of steddie getting the Murray treatment and the whole thing becoming about Steve defending Eddie because he's been inadvertently outed by Murray's insinuations... and absolutely no acknowledgment that Steve is also being outed in this scenario. I don't know if this is just more of your standard biphobia from this fandom (real popular that) or if it's just more of fandom being annoyingly over indulgent about Eddie being queer Jesus or whatever but I just ran into the third fic I've seen with literally the exact same premise and idk lame way to start pride month! As the only steddie fan I know that's not weird about Eddie I had to tell someone.

so many people just don’t seem to know how to write steve’s queerness, and it’s very tiring lmao. i think it could come from biphobia, but also just from people not taking steve and his feelings seriously. it’s a common trend in fics for people to tell steve he has feelings for eddie and he’s bisexual, and i do not like it, but i think this trope is just an extension of that. steve is too dumb to know anything about himself, but eddie is a good gay guy, so obviously he’s been violated.

also, this is a little nitpicky, but did the concept of ‘outing’ even exist in the 80s? like, would steve even say to eddie “sorry you got outed :(“. because i’ve seen fics use that exact wording, and that just… doesn’t sound right.

okay, just looked it up, and the usage for the word ‘outed’ (as in exposing secrets, not necessarily sexuality) was at an all time low in the 80s!! we learn something new everyday.

anyway! yeah i hate the trope of being murray’d. i don’t like when he encourages teenagers to have sex and we’re just supposed to laugh. s4 was the best murray season because he didn’t do that shit lol

[torialefay]

you and that anon calling it a war and not what it actually is. A GENOCIDE. speaks volume about both of you. in that fancall no one yelled at him, no one asked him to do anything, out of all the time they had for a fancall they spent like three seconds to say that stays are feel inspired by skz and are raising money for palestine, if that bothers you then you're a part of the problem. chan looked fine in that fancall, especially if you compare it to the tickets fancall where he clearly looked annoyed and tried to be nice at first, but they didn't get the clue and kept pushing, so he had be straight forward. i don't know if you just poorly worded your thoughts, but it sounds bad and knowing how much actuals zionists roam happily in the fandom, those poorly worded thoughts make all of them feel even more comfortable and welcomed in the fandom

hi anon ❤️ first, i want to say that i understand that you are coming from a very good place and if you felt by my messages that it came across as pro-zionism, then i truly do appreciate you coming and leaving this note. i agree that this is the right thing to do when people are promoting terrible things. i'm assuming there's confusion in what was said, but please know that i don't have any ill-will at all & i know that you come from a place of love and doing what is right 🫶🏼

firstly, you are 100% right that it is genocide. "war" was the first word that came to mind (i be watching a lottt of news that uses both oml), but i agree that genocide is way more accurate to what is actually going on so thank you for pointing that out <3

however, i'm not really sure what fancall you're referring to. i haven't seen a fancall of anyone talking to chris about it. the only fancalls i've referenced lately are the ones about tickets and the other about about the fan who was saying "do you love me more or do i love you more?". if there's a fancall of chris talking to a stay about raising money though, that's really awesome... but baby i haven't seen it nor have i talked ab it 🥲 (p.s. someone pls send me a link pls & ty 🫶🏼) lowkey highkey i'm sure chris is really fucking proud if that's the case && hopefully he'd be supportive to the best of his abilities 🥹 but long story short, baby i have never seen this video in my life nor have i talked ab it... so if that is what you're upset about then idk what is happening bc it wasnt me 🫠

i'm most definitely not a zionist and i would doubt that the others who have spoken/responded to my comments are either (i don't know for certain, but i would assume we're all normal lol). the only thing i talked ab that has to be realllly fucking hard on chris is when some stays were trending that skz needed to speak up and included the phrase "stop hurting your fans and driving them away," mostly targeted at chan. like that shit breaks my heart for him. to know that he probably wants to talk ab it and his own fans are saying how disappointed they are in him, but there is a 100% chance that if he says anything, he is violating his contract & god knows what that would do to skz (every fucking thing is controversial these days... even if it's the right thing to do). while we should never have to compromise our morals or beliefs, unfortunately this is what happens in kpop. you sacrifice your freedom of speech, and i'm sure this is one of those things. it is a horrible, systemic issue that is deeply rooted in the industry (and needs to be overturned, but that's a whole different conversation). i think trying to push for it with actual companies is a good thing, but targeting specific members isn't the way to go about it.

anyways, that's all ❤️ i hope that cleared some things up & i already know i'm gonna have anons on both sides tryna get snippy so PLEASE no one go on a rampage 🤪 i understand where anon is coming from & i genuinely take it as wanting to make sure that we are all on the same page & can foster a good environment here on tumblr. pinky promise there are no hard feelings AT ALL on my end 🫶🏼

[icaruspendragon]

cw: grooming, suicide, mental health

i know a lot of times when we see/hear the word grooming we think of a certain kind of victim of a very particular crime. to help clarify, i’m gonna give a concrete definition for what i’m taking about

so finding out this is something that’s been happening to me for the past few months sure hasn’t been, ya know, great. and i don’t feel great about it or myself.

nearly every. single. box. i get to check almost all those boxes. fortunately, the sexual aspect isn’t a facet of what i went through.

idk. i’m just. i’m hurt. i feel violated. i was manipulated and lied to and gaslit and taken advantage of and used. i feel used. and i think the worst part is that i’m still scared to talk about it. because the people involved would make my life even more miserable than they have already if i named names. they’re still finding ways to hurt me even in my silence. and i just. i don’t know what to do. i don’t have the mental fortitude to deal with the fallout that would happen if i said something but i feel an obligation to say something because this exact thing is still happening to others. i feel trapped.

i’ve talked about it in therapy. but i just don’t know how to deal with it. especially because all of the sudden my brain decided it was time for me to start processing my brother’s suicide. and this abuse started to happen literally days after he died. i feel like an emotional live wire. i cannot stress enough how much i’m not having thoughts of harming myself but i feel so used and so empty and so tired. and i can’t even talk about it. not really. not unless i wanna make it worse.

i managed to finally get out and i’m still scared of what they can do to me.

how the fuck do you handle this? what do i do now? because i feel sick to my stomach with fear and anxiety making this post but i can’t have all of this floating around in me anymore. i had to let some of it out. and i’m scared about what’s going to happen to me now.

that’s why i’ve been online less. that’s why the quality of what i have been putting online hasn’t been the best. between finding out i was emotionally and mentally manipulated and abused for months by people i thought were friends and being treated subhuman at work. i’ve had all the life zapped out of me.

that’s part of why i’m pushing patreon so hard right now. so i can at least leave my job and hope that doing so will free up the mental and emotional space to address the fact that at twenty-five-fucking-years-old i got groomed.

something has got to change. i feel like i’m at the end of my rope and that rope is about to snap.

once again, i’m not having any dangerous thoughts. but i feel like i’m on the cusp of a complete and total mental breakdown.

i just wanna catch a fucking break, man. it really does feel like one thing after the other.

so yeah. i’m scared and sad and empty and i feel dirty and used and violated and it’s sucking every ounce of joy out of me. i just wanted to focus on being able to be creative full time. on making people smile and laugh. on helping others. that’s all i want to do and now i barely have the energy to shower.

it’s not fair. after everything i’ve been through i get to add another thing to the list and it’s just. not. fair.

it’s been a really, really hard couple of weeks on top of having and really, really hard past eight months.

anyway. that’s why i’ve been like this recently.

if any of that looked/sounded familiar, here’s the site i got the info from. you should check it out.

and maybe talk to your therapist.

[monstrouslyobsessed]

For a concept : A male Palasik/Krasue is in love with a human darling. He tries to hide his true nature but one night, reader sees his transformation (his head ripping itself from his body, his spine and organs following the head). Thanks! —anonymous

—a/n: ngl…i had a bit of hard time taking this one seriously (it’s…a floating head with organs hanging out from the neck. that was…it). because it had cultural impacts in the east, i’m iffy on writing krasue as is. krasue are almost always women from what i’ve read, so i can probably get away with my re-imagining. so this is not krasue but something inspired by it.

still, if my depiction is in any way offensive, please, please tell me and I will either rewrite the whole thing or take it down entirely. 

also, idk how to tag this one because the monster aint dead???? how do I even tag this. help.

—tw / tags: gn reader, horror, gore, grossness, nonconsensual kissing, body horror, teratophilia, exophilia, general yandere themes, sfw-ish.

—featured character(s): the neighbor / the disembodied

Your neighbor was a bit of the dodgy man, but harmless. Every Sunday he’d bring you a plate of his cooking, his smile friendly but looking entirely too out of place with his thick, cotton scarf. Even during hot weather, he'd wear it, often tucking half his face inside it.

You'd...never saw him without.

He had a penchant for wearing long-sleeved clothing too, but his scarf was simply more noticeable.

Still, he was charming and had you giggling at his vulgar jokes. He was just an ordinary man with odd quirks. Your mind would sometimes wandered away from its tasks to think of other things he did, some adorable and other..more inappropriate thoughts to have for a mere neighbor. You mused on thoughts of how he would look underneath his scarf, if there was a button undone on his shirt, if it would be warm and comfortable under there, and what it might be like to run your fingers through his hair.

Or how nice it'd be to kiss him right here on your front porch.

Alright, you might've been drawn to him and his scarf didn't bother you that much.

You took a courageous breath and stopped your neighbor from descending your front steps in time. "W...would you like to eat with me?" You asked nervously, voice wavering slightly.

The man blinked owlishly up at you, before a grin blossomed through his warm gaze. You couldn't see his kissable lips through that damned scarf of his,  but you got flustered just by imagining them against yours. His eyes sparkled with joy as he nodded eagerly. "That sounds very lovely," he accepted, holding a gloved hand to his chest and bowing dramatically.

And that was how your relationship with your neighbor deepened into one of mutual attraction.

Not once had he raised any red flag for you, beyond his strange fixation on keeping his damn scarf on. Even when you'd asked him why, he'd never give you straight answers, fumbling over his words and shaking his head in refusal. You wished you’d pushed him to say something months ago, when you and he became an item.

As sickening, squelching noises rose to your ears and your hands glued to your mouth to muffle all whimpers and sobs from your lips, you wondered that maybe you'd imagined what you'd seen not too long ago. Tucking yourself tighter in the corner, concealed by a bookcase and desk, trembles wracked your body and you let out quiet, hiccuping breaths that popped your ears a little. You wished so hard to cry and scream and slap yourself, to wake up now, instead of dreaming about someone touching your thighs and the back of your neck, or feeling those hands pull gently at your clothes until they tear.

Knowing what you’d seen, that 'someone' was not a man but something else entirely, touching you with two grotesque-looking claws. Bloodied bones and a bit of red flesh still attached, violating you in your latest imaginations. Bile rose, but you bit into your tongue and willed your body to comply.

The noises grew louder, and you shuddered in disgust. It was as if something sticky and slimy was being pulled and pushed around, curdling a nauseating noise that echoed throughout the house. The sound was like a mixture of a wet slurp and a soft squelch. Each time you heard it, your skin crawled. The longer you listened, the more intense the noises became,  and every second added to nausea, twisting your stomach uncomfortably in knots. You wanted to close your eyes and pretend this was all a nightmare.

It was all just a nightmare—

You wanted to vomit.

"—, dearrrr..." A slap rang throughout the hard floor—and another slap followed. You stiffened at hearing your name, your heart pounding against your ribcage, as the strange sounds halted. A movement slapping against wood sounded, and the same terrifying sticky noise followed once more. "...dear, darling, darl—" The voice began again, softer this time, to that same sweet tone you were so used to hearing that it left your body in a quiver and your eyes growing wet again. "—dear..." And then it was silent, and you heard nothing but your own harsh breathing, echoing through the quaint office. You squeezed your tearful eyes shut, your fingers clutching the edges of the bookcase tightly, willing it all to stop. "Oh,"

Horror crept through every inch of your body, chilling your limbs and making your blood run cold, when you realized the voice was inside the room with you. Your eyes shot open the moment his voice crooned into your ears and the urge to scream blared throughout your mind—yet your throat refused to open, as you met a large pair of round eyes, staring unblinkingly back at you.

"There you are...!" His lipless mouth crackled, the permanent grin of bloodied teeth stretching wide on his blood-caked skull. It only made his grotesque visage worse, "my darling~"

You gagged on your breath, helpless as he lunged forward, grappling you by your ankle, and dragged you to his skeletal—no, his near-fleshless torso. Your vision blurred, as tears streamed down your cheeks, leaving trails of salty moisture, as you screamed and kicked at his bony hands. He leaned closer, a sickening crunch of vertebrae—thankfully not yours, snapping as he dragged your body across the ground toward his half-skeletal form. Your nails dug into the skin on his wrist—or what was left behind on his bones when he'd all but violently torn his own skin off in the front of your very eyes.

You clenched your eyes shut, now sobbing, as the disembodied monster slathered his bloodied tongue to lick your tears. With every shift of a movement, he'd bled more on your ruined clothing. You did not want to see his true form, a legless skeletal creature with organs dragging out in a tangle from his torso, fleshy and wet.

His exposed heart fluttered and beat against the inside of his ribs, pulsating painfully at the sight of you and hearing your desperate cries. He licked your cheek, and his tongue was slick against your skin, tasting of copper and salt. It wandered closer to your lips. Before you could rip your face away from his tongue, hard teeth pressed onto yours into a gruesome kiss. A shudder racked your frame, feeling sick, and your entire body seized as his disgusting tongue slipped between your teeth, pushing and pulling as his fleshy mouth forced itself deeper. With his free hand, he grabbed your chin and twisted harshly, forcing you open wider as you tried miserably to fight back—

"I love you," the monster rasped into your ear, brushing his hard nostrils on your earlobe, as his tongue brushed along your collarbone, "I love you," He repeated, nuzzling into your neck as you sobbed and gagged in disgust, trying sincerely to shove him off of your body. He seemed to laugh, pressing his fleshy mouth against your cheek in a disgusting kiss, "I love you—so very, very much.”

You wished so badly you hadn’t seen the abnormalities under his scarf and seen the truth of what he truly was.

A hard lesson for you to learn to never drop by your partner’s house, unannounced.

—end

partially edited as of 3.19.23

[thelemmallama]

I'm former pro-para turned anti-para these days, but not because I've been convinced by existing anti-para arguments, but because I discovered new ones for myself. 99% of existing/visible anti-para arguments are fucking stupid; that sadly has not changed. (For one, most anti-paras don't even reject the premise of "paraphilia" as a scientifically valid condition in the first place)

I'm tired of just everyone being dumb in para-related discourse and completely failing to describe the differences they've observed and carve reality at the joints. So I felt compelled to clear things up (also partly because of personal stuff happening to me recently), and made these infographics(?) in the process:

also the explanation itself; here's some very messy notes under the cut that I don't have energy to edit

an actually consistent argument against MAPs, including non-offenders (from a former supporter)

(1: diagram?)(if you encounter a 'necessary evil' situation; someone probably screwed up earlier down the line)(trolley, pull, don't pull - real evil: someone tied these people to the tracks)(admit, deny - real evil: you've been fantasizing about children) why it's harmful to think about children sexually

'what would be destroyed by the truth, should be' {- pro-maps would call this thoughtcrime, and literally no-one addresses it}

related: sa survivors don't disclose not bc 'feeling like bad person' shame, but bc of "doesn't want ppl to think of them being sa'd" shame {- even in a perfectly accepting world, there is the tradeoff of getting it off your chest vs }

if you look at things through agency-maximizing consequentialism (which solves/avoids the horrifying edge cases of happiness-maximizing consequentialism like powering a utopia witha forsaked child or sacrificing us all to the utility monster), thoughts do indeed cause harm

(3?) arousal is not pleasure

sa survivors experience arousal when sa'd; they did NOT enjoy it [ ('pleasure' or 'gratification' being used to describe sex (e.g. sexual assault, one's body 'betraying' you for feeling pleasure), and compare substituting 'pleasure' or 'gratification' in descriptions of being itchy/etc) no no no no, you're still trapped in the 'arousal = pleasure' framework. by saying that negative experiences of arousal are ego-dystonic, you're still assuming arousal is intrinsically pleasureable and it's a negative experience because the person doesn't want to feel pleasure in this situation, not because the arousal itself is the exact opposite of pleasurable.

an example of how arousal can be a negative yet ego-syntonic experience could be if a person is sexually assaulted, but they have extremely low self-worth, despises themself and believe they deserve to suffer. then the profoundly painful experience of sexual assault could be ego-syntonic, as they feel like it's their rightful punishment. however just because the arousal was ego-syntonic does not at all imply it was pleasurable or that they 'enjoyed it', any more than a self-harmer 'enjoyed' hurting themself because they chose to do so. ]

mere stimulation: aroused pleasure: enjoy/gratification/desire idk: erotic/titilating/excitement/horny/get off on

every word for being sexually aroused or something causing sexual arousal carries with it the implication that it's a positive experience. sexual excitement? titilation? horny? get off on? even 'sexual arousal' itself!

(2?) "pedophilia" not biologically based

most are men: gender essentialist implications

child marriage was widespread

children/innocence/vulnerability to violation/don't think of pink elephants

currently most people not attracted to children bc we correctly recognize it's harmful to sexually interact with children. it's like eating a sandwich vs eating a sandwich after knowing the cucumber had been used as a dildo. physical sensation same

(thing that first clued me in) on ao3, there are barely any fics about non-offending pedophiles, while there are tons of underage fics. given how prevalent proship discourse is and how much it overlaps with map discourse, wouldn't there be more stories about non-offending pedophiles? instead, even among the sympathetically-depicted pedophiles a majority is offending. it just seems really sus that that narrative seems to resonate more with people than that of the non-offending pedophile.

(4)(diagram?) 'arousal wrt children' on two axes: positive/negative valence, deliberate/instinctive

pocd

self-harm/catharsis

wants to change

map who push for (no)map acceptance

then when i said 'it's harmful to think about children sexually', i mean positive valence thought. what about deliberate? i'm not feeling convicted on this and am open to arguments why it's wrong, but i believe deliberately thinking about csa in a negative way is like deliberately thinking about other atricites in a negative way. the 'fiction is not reality' thing applies specifically to this quadrant. and yes, it's worrying there's no clear line between mere depiction and endorsement, but that can be applied to fascist genocides as well, and i don't see many people arguing against all depictions of fascist genocides in fiction because of this. people still manage to identify and condemn positive depictions/endorsements of fascism, and the same should be applied to csa and desire-for-children.

what about the 'is it okay to tell' test? it's clearly abusive to talk about deliberately dwelling on the abuse of a specific real child that exists or has existed (other than your past self), so i believe that's harmful to do, even if you attribute negative valence to the abuse. but if the valence is negative - you're rightfully thinking of it as something horrific rather than something enjoyable - i believe it's morally neutral to dwell on the abuse of a random child you imagined, or yourself from the past. (fictional children are a grey area imo; if the child is from a story that depicts csa in the source material for catharsis/coping, that's different from if the child is from nonsexual children's media

[casualtydept]

ground zeroes. you cant see whats happening in That tape but i thought skull face was ordering the assault not committing it himself. not that its any less horrific but should skull face be called a rapist when its unclear what actually happened?

putting this under a read more cause i know it's a sensitive topic

i'd argue it isn't unclear at all - that's exactly what happened. he has a soldier rape paz, tries to force chico on her but he refuses and talks instead (unrelated but people love to miss this part for some reason??)

idk how it would be termed legally, i've seen the term "rape by proxy" used but finding actual academic or legal sources i can access on it is difficult.

rape law varies a lot and relies on a lot of very specific wording so it probably largely depends on your legal system whether it'd be classed as rape or as a form of sexual assault. frankly i think the guy violates so many human rights on an average day the legal system would have a field day with him regardless.

so while i can't tell you if you "should" legally, it is certainly fair for people to call him that if they think it's appropriate; he is guilty of using rape as a tool and method of torture regardless of the degree to which he participated personally or the nature of his motivations, i'm not gonna argue with that.

i do think it's perhaps more useful to look at fictional characters through the lens of them being tools to examine a topic (guantanamo bay is fucked) or reveal something about their creator (kojima et al. cannot write sexual assault for shit) rather than trying to find the right legal label for their crimes but it's interesting all the same.

i don't begrudge people hating the character for it or for calling him what he is but it would be cool if anyone was actually interested in having a meaningful discussion about it instead of trying to suggest that enjoying a morally bankrupt character should be in some way off limits or that the people who do are equally as evil or in some way untrustworthy.

i also don't think it was necessarily wrong to include rape in ground zeroes, it's more to do with the presentation and the writing of it, but it feels like most people are stuck on the idea that depicting it at all was the problem. which, fair enough if it's too sensitive a matter, i know i have a stronger stomach for it than most. ground zeroes is my special little problem child.

anyway thanks for the fun question to start my morning lmao, there's a reason i wasn't willing to weigh in over on twitter because i have too much to say that can't be contained by its character limits

[feekins]

hoo boy, ch 8. okay. I've got tea steeping. I've got a comfy throw blanket. I have my cat on standby, bc...honestly idr how I reacted the first time I read this almost 20 years ago. all I know is that a lot of things flew over my head at that age, so it should be uh. interesting. to see what I get out of it as an adult.

so yeah - my thoughts and things as I re-read ch8 of Trigun vol 2.

I'M NOT NERVOUS. YOU'RE NERVOUS. 🫣

(NOTE: I'm reading the Dark Horse [physical] and the Overhaul [online] translations side-by-side)

ok so uh. this is gonna be a longass post. no joke, I took reference pics of almost every single page of this chapter, but thanks to the 10-image limit...well. we'll see how this goes.

on the very first page, we have some context-changing translation discrepancies.

in Dark Horse, we've got:

WOLFWOOD: "I got a bad feeling...about these guys." (referring to the dudes he beat up when they tried to jump him as he walked into the church in the last chapter)

LEGATO: "How rude. How else do you expect to be treated when you suddenly trespass?"

meanwhile, the Overhaul has something much more informative, once again:

WOLFWOOD: "Who are these idiots? The Roderick slavers?"

LEGATO: "My apologies... I just needed to show late arrivals who they are dealing with."

then, on the next page, we see that Legato and Wolfwood haven't met before (which was something I was wondering about last chapter). they only recognize each other by physical descriptors (Wolfwood's cross, Legato's skull and torture device).

(Dark Horse on top, Overhaul on bottom)

again, the Overhaul is more informative. and the panel right after this one...Vash looks so exhausted 🥺

there's also a difference in Dominique's last words to Vash a few pages later. Dark Horse has her saying, in reference to Legato "No one stands up to that man. Do you think he'd help me after I've failed?" meanwhile, the Overhaul has "If I can't be of service to him...then there is only one way this can turn out."

and then, she jumps :( Dominique remains one of my fav GHGs... it would be nice to see her return (she's on Wanted posters!!!) in tristamp, but. in any case. I lov her. and I'd love to learn more about her 🥺

Vash passes out right as Dominique's falling, and my younger self always thought that was weird? but their fight was a LOT more taxing than it first appeared, at least to me. we see proof of this later in the chapter.

some little translation discrepancies here. Midvalley's line in Dark Horse always kinda confused me. ty, Overhaul, for clarifying so much! oh, and Legato's last line here - for some reason I always thought he was talking about Vash? but now I realize he's talking about KNIVES. that's not translation-induced confusion, tho - just me being A Silly Lil Guy again, I guess 🤪

oh, and I didn't point it out in the last chapter, but...there's something striking about there being a church right at the top of Jeneora Rock. I can't explain why. it's just...something that rly sticks out or seems important to me.

OH, BUT THEN!!!

IT'S THE DOCTAAAAAAAAAand that's all the screaming I'll do about him for now 🤭

again, the Overhaul's translation is more informative, explicitly mentioning Knives' injuries, but idk. maybe I'm nitpicking. whateverrrrr, me likey additional info =u=

now...we get into the heavier topics.

their plan for resurrecting Knives is. disturbing. to say the least. you've got the physical horror, which was what most struck me when I was a teenager...but what gets me now is the violation/exploitation/stripping of agency from another plant for personal gain/survival...of which humans are guilty...but this time, it's all in the name of The Big Bad Human-Hater. and so, right when we finally get to meet him in the flesh, the narrative shows how, Plant Shenanigans aside, Knives...really isn't all that different from the humans he so hates. he perpetuates the exact. same. shit. the cognitive dissonance, man... 😣

more Dark Horse-induced confusion the Overhaul's cleared up for me

then, at the bottom of the page, where Wolfwood's grousing, Dark Horse has him saying "Shit! What the hell was with all th' training?!" (another line that always confused me) whereas the Overhaul has "Shit! What the hell am I doin'?!"

and that leads me into the next thing I wanted to note: it's here that we see Wolfwood is a man stuck between a rock and a hard place. he gets frustrated with it, doesn't want to do it, but he fully believes he can't get out of it :(

I also want to note a difference between the manga and tristamp - manga Vash is able to sense Knives the moment he's resurrected, whereas tristamp Vash is only aware of Knives' presence when the diner piano starts playing (ep 3). it's an interesting difference!

but then, there's fking...

...this. immediately after Knives is reborn.

I didn't think anything of it as a teen. but now...initially, I was horrified, thinking "oh shit, oh fuck, what the hell is he doing to his 'mother' now" BUT. looking at it a second time, I think I get what the context is telling us. on the previous page, there's Knives WITH HIS 'MOTHER' UNDERFOOT. on the panel immediately below the one I've shown, there's an explosion. so. I think what's going on here is that Knives is using his plant abilities to bust out - which still isn't great, most likely killing his 'mother' in the process...but unfortunately, considering who this is, it tracks;;;;;;

(Dark Horse on left, Overhaul on right)

so much more urgency comes through in the Overhaul's translation here - "...I NEED to face him. I have to END this!"

we also get a lot more out of the Overhaul on the next page, when Vash is talking about his memory loss. both translations start with Vash saying "Everything on the other side is blank..." but whereas Dark Horse has him continue with "Where there is no memory, I must go to fill in the void..." the Overhaul has "I lost all memory of what I've done. All that was left with me was a void and a memory of a mountain of rubble."

then, when Vash gets to Knives and points his gun at him...Knives' absolutely deranged reaction, which I found funny as a teen, now just. gives me the chills. as does how tristamp drew directly from this exchange for their meeting in that diner.

aaaaand we have some translation weirdness after Knives sees Vash's scars and is all "Vash y u no learn?!" Dark Horse then misattributes 2 speech bubbles in a panel with Vash, instead having Knives say:

KNIVES: "If you keep count, you've hurt so many more than you've killed. And compare that to all the destruction you've caused..."

KNIVES (next panel, speech bubbles are his): "So, shouldn't you...point that thing somewhere else?"

the Overhaul is, once again, a lot more clear here:

VASH (in reference to his scars): "They're nothing compared to the burden of death and destruction you've put on me! You're gonna pay for your sins, you monster!"

KNIVES: "Considering what you did with that right arm of yours...shouldn't you be pointing that gun somewhere else then?"

I believe that's what we call gaslighting? and the victim blaming Knives does over and over is... 😬

more translation weirdness. no comment here - I've been working on this post for literal hours now igkhddkhdjg

...no translation weirdness here - just wanted to note...I didn't get this part as a teen. now, I do... 😟

and both translations of the first thing Knives says to Vash after forcing him to bring out the angel arm now strike me as. so messed up. part of the SA/noncon allegory...

KNIVES (Dark Horse): "Well?! How do you like it, Vash?"

VS

KNIVES (Overhaul): "How is it?! How does it feel, Vash?!"

and then, right before it fires? for some reason, Dark Horse completely leaves out what Vash says/thinks immediately after Rem's name. before the Overhaul, I had no idea that this bit was a thing: "...we were no good...right from the start." 😭

now here. have an Emotional Support Charlie. she slept beside me the whole damn time I wrote this post 💕

[bookwyrminspiration]

Okay but what is Fitz’s moral compass anyway? I keep seeing people say he’s got a really strong one, but like… what is it? What specifically are his morals? Idk about you, but I don’t think “Neverseen Bad” counts as morals. I think that’s just hatred. Like, do the Neverseen represent something he hates? I don’t get it.

!!! Nonsie I am so glad you asked because I would love to clarify. You're right, "neverseen bad" isn't really a moral, but your questioning has made me realize that there's a better way I could be saying this!

When I said Fitz has really strong morals, what I meant was that he has a really strong sense of justice or retribution. That's probably still not the best word, but it's closer. And by saying that, what I mean is that when someone has done something, right or wrong, he has a very clear and strict idea of what that means and what the consequences for that are. There's no/very little hesitation

I think the best example of this is Alvar's situation. At the tribunal, the council and Sophie found the sentencing to be tricky (something I'm sure wasn't unique to them) and had mixed feelings, but Fitz didn't. Alvar did something wrong, so he deserves punishment for that. It's a very clear reasoning and path in his head. Same with using the warden on Alvar when he started to get close to the gate during the Celestial Festival. Alvar was violating his rules and behaving suspiciously so he wanted to drop him there. Simple. It's the consequence for his actions. Meanwhile Sophie felt iffy, hence how that situation played out.

Alvar was a sore spot for him, but I'd argue that we can see evidence of this blunt, straight-forward thinking in other situations. Like when Keefe joined the Neverseen for the first time and Fitz struggled to separate him from the things other members had done because he had such a clear idea of what the Neverseen were and that the consequence of joining was being a bad person. There's more wiggle room with Keefe, but it is another example. We could also use a positive example of how readily he accepted the idea of looking for the sick gnome Sophie heard/found in Neverseen. Even though that was against the rules, in his idea of what's right and wrong following Sophie and seeking help for the gnome was the right course of action, so there was absolutely no question from him.

So I can't speak for anyone else, but when I talk about Fitz, this is the kind of clear, strong sense of justice and right and wrong I talk about. He isn't as conflicted or swayed as some of the other characters, and can be very vocal about his particular set in stone opinions. You do something wrong, then you do something wrong and there are consequences. You do something right, then even if it's against the rules it's the right thing to do and that's all there is to it.

I hope that clarifies at least where I'm coming from, so thank you for asking about it!

[opartnermine]

ive been poking around syscourse stuff for a bit now.

It’s… well. it’s very, very clear that these online communities are made up of traumatized people. resembles a lot of autism acceptance discourse, too.

I have to say, Reddit does a lot better in this case. I think mostly cause tumblr is so bizarrely deontological with its theories of oppression, and genuinely also just because it’s a bit harder in the UI to link stuff. probably also some differences in culture, too, but even the most vehemently exclusionary spaces ive found on Reddit regarding mental health stuff were so much less draining to spend time in because they weren’t so painfully and delusionally convinced they were right. and to be clear that goes for both sides of the situation, though anti-endos are a lot worse in that way.

Reddit sucks in a lot of ways but one cultural distinction that makes it a lot easier there is that you need sources for a claim. and the person with sources wins. and if you don’t have sources and/or a good argument, you must make it clear that you are not 100% confident about your conclusion. partly it’s just the forum format that helps with that, where you can’t hide someone else’s reply by grabbing a different reblog chain—I really do think that’s a central feature of why tumblr is so toxic in its particular way—but I think it’s also just an internet culture thing.

so like. from what I remember the general format of anti-endo sentiment was ‘yeah, ok, might be possible but y’all have something different from us and we want you to stay in your own spaces, leave us alone and we’ll leave you alone’. and maybe a bit of ‘makes us look bad’.

that view on tumblr would have you on anti-endo blocklists. to even posit the notion that there is the remotest possibility that endos aren’t faking it is utterly heretical.

and I can’t help but see that the core of it is a complete disregard for the facts of the matter. anti-endos don’t read scientific or philosophical literature, except for one unfounded theory in psychology. they don’t look into the emergent mechanisms of hebbian learning outlined in cognitive neuroscience, they don’t listen to sociologists and philosophers who’ve by and large concluded that medical gatekeeping is harmful to people with real issues.

they don’t listen to the huge number of people just like them, with diagnosed CDDs, who repeatedly beg them to stop because it was anti-endo sentiments that delayed their own search for treatment, or convinced them that they were disgusting, subhuman fakers who ought to kill themselves, or threw them deeper into denial.

instead, they hold up the regular ‘hi im not a system or anything but you guys are right about those degenerates’ asks as a banner of legitimacy while ignoring everything else. as if those words—of a person who by dint of not struggling with this would most likely not be as devoted to understanding plurality as people who do, in fact, have had to understand themselves—matter more than all the voices begging them to change, all the literature telling them how much harm they’re doing, all the research showing that they’re incorrect.

they fixate on acts of the individual, grabbing every bit of evidence they can of pro-endos violating DNIs and false tagging and so many minuscule transgressions as if they’re an ontological argument.

‘see? these people must be incorrect about cognition because they were mean to me this one time!’ it’s fucking ridiculous. and it feels like every other bigotry under the sun.

and it’s… idk. they’re just so angry all the time. it can’t feel good, right? like. im pissed off right now, and that’s why im blogging here and not posting something on my main. I am fully aware that this post doesn’t make a difference. it wouldn’t make much of a difference even if I posted it publicly and got ten thousand reblogs, because it’s all confrontational and not actually making effective arguments. but this is the only kind of anti-endo post I see. just… venting. anger. rants about screenshots of some random person being somewhat mean. and the same four thought-terminating lines.

ive seen people try to argue otherwise, and they’re just… ignored. ive literally never once seen an anti-endo respond to the substance of an argument. any time someone posts a big chain of links to scientific studies, or the DSM (or I think maybe a different psychiatric body, not remembering atm) definition explicitly laying out the possibility of non-disordered plurality, or anything in that vein it just gets ignored. i just saw someone respond to the DSM thing by literally saying ‘that doesn’t personally apply to me because i live outside their jurisdiction’ as if human cognition varies in its fundamental structure along state borders.

it’s also just a bit annoying when unhinged anti-endo rant posts with 6 reblogs show up in my fyp.

and like. I know why? it’s not that hard to see—the people getting into these arguments are probably only some of any given system’s members; there’s a real degree of emotional immaturity and delayed development that you get when you only exist some of the time, and im speaking on this from experience. and even if that’s not a thing, and im wrong about that—check this out, epistemic humility, you should try it sometime—trauma fucks you up. especially the kind of trauma that can land you a DID diagnosis. and it’s hard to be rational when you’ve got that hanging over you.

so it makes sense. im not posting this out of incomprehension—i know what’s going on. it’s just… emotionally tiring to see. I hope that these people can get their shit together and heal and move on and live a comfortable life, because I know that a person who is comfortable and satisfied doesn’t behave like this.

idk. it just feels so much like r/uncensorednews, except tumblrites are so spectacularly convinced of their own perfectly ethical nature that it’s even fucking worse. at least people on that sub were self-aware and knew that they were incredibly racist. that’s a really low fucking bar, people. get real.

anyway.

[the1975attheirverybest]

i think links in fanfic can be interesting especially when its a fic thats been tied to real life context and events but when its in place of writing so to show outfits, setting etc it seems lazy?

also how are you doing, what have you been up to? - 🐸

I think you’re right! Also, like, reading is a very specific activity where the dynamic is between your brain and words. Bringing other stuff into it would change your role as a reader. Like images kind of make you more passive? But if it’s a video and you wanna concentrate then it’s more deliberate? Idk. People say “electronic fiction is the future” and i don’t know how I feel about it.

I’m alright. Horrendous as usual. For a whole month I haven’t really been feeling anything but despair. Maybe I gotta call my psychiatrist lol.

Debating wearing the Keith Haring “Safe Sex” shirt to my show in Nov. worried it violates some kind of venue policy? Lmaooo wow the things that take up space in my head make no sense.

How are youuuu how is your Wednesday?

[cornrowsandcornbread]

i’ve suspected i was asexual since last year when i realized that people literally got horny looking at strangers. i was so shocked! i have formally participated in saying comments about celebs like “oouuu they could get it (which i don’t do now)” because i just assumed everyone was using it to exaggerate how fine/beautiful someone was, not cuz they literally wanted to sex them up! when i realized that i actually felt kinda violated bc i was like “what if someone i don’t know has felt that way about me?” lol. and i’m alloromantic so i’ve had a few crushes in my life, and even then i was never sexually attracted to them. but bc i have an interest in having sex, and i watch “adult films,” (once again, i’ve never been attracted to the people in them. matta fact, most of the time i think they’re quite unattractive lmao) and i read explicit stories from time to time, i thought i couldn’t be asexual.

it’s bc i’ve always thought asexuality = sex repulsion, virgin, complete distaste for sex, sexual activities, and sexual conversations. and for many aces, that is what it means, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. tbh, in this very hypersexualized world we live in, i truly love that for y’all. but while that is what asexuality means for some, that’s not what it means for all. learning about the spectrum of asexuality “sex repulsion -> sex neutrality -> sex positivity/favorable” and learning that sexual attraction ≠ sexual action has been a great help. you could truly have sex with 1000 people in your life time, you could genuinely enjoy all 1000 sexual… sessions (idk how else to word it lmao), but if you were sexually attracted to none of your sexual partners, you’re just as asexual as anyone else. and that’s been very validating to learn. the definition of asexuality is little to no sexual attraction. like that’s it, there’s nothing more to it. another thing that kept me from realizing i was asexual is it always seemed like weirdo yt people shit. but black asexuals exist. and it’s not yt people shit, i mean last time i checked i was a nigga! the last thing is that i still like to do “sexual/sensual” things. like, one thing about me? i’m gon twerk! and i wanna be a majorette, a style of african american dance that can be pretty sensual, and ik when i finally get my dream wardrobe it’s gonna be A LOT of shirts that show lots of cleavage, and other things of that nature. like i thought that asexuality kinda meant that you don’t wanna show off your body or that you don’t like feeling sexy yk? or that you’re just an all round shy person but that’s not true at all. asexuality, like every sexual orientation, is not as strict as i convinced myself it was. idk i feel good right now knowing this about myself. and this is my only outlet for the time being. not that i can’t tell my family, i truly think they would support me and/or not really gaf tbh lmao. especially my sister who i suspect may also be on the ace spectrum by our conversations (she may not be full on ace but i think she’s somewhere on there), but i just don’t even know how to start the conversation so i haven’t. seems like something that’s a big deal to me but wouldn’t be a big deal to other people yk idk i’m just talking atp. anyways, NIGGA ACES EXIST! I AM ASEXUAL. I’M A SEX FAVORABLE ASEXUAL. I FEEL GOOD ABOUT THIS 👍🏽. THAT IS ALL

[animeomegas]

MY FELLOW ANON ARE VIOLATING MY EMOTIONS TODAY 😂 god I’m acc crying. Your writing is amazing. I’m gonna combat the sadness with a wholesome thing of them finding a pup in a bin (or something) a few months after the loss of the first pup (Neji is currently shut down entirely) is like “lol gimme”. Proceeds to take the pup home, put it in his nest scent the lil bean (gender is your choice) and just be like “yeah this mine now”. Any nay sayers are ignored bc it’s still his baby (maybe almost like his pup reincarnated 👀👀) regardless of how baby was obtained. Idk I just think my guy needs some positivity after life kicking the ever loving shit out of him

This is beautiful and you’re right, Neji deserves the world, but I’ll settle with a quiet life and some happiness for my boy!

Okay, so things haven’t been…good with Neji since you had to let your pup die to save him.

It has been two months and still he lays in his nest every day, sometimes crying, sometimes whining, but mostly just staring at nothing. He had incorporated a bunch of baby stuff (blankets, toys etc.) into his nest before he went to the hospital, in order to make his pup feel more at home in the nest when he was supposed to bring them back. You had tried to take them out to stop him having to be confronted with what happened in his safe space, but Neji almost attacked you for doing so, so you let him keep them.

But it’s very concerning when he spends hours at a time just stroking the pup's blankets and staring at nothing.

So, you decide to take Neji on a walk to get him out of the house. It would be his first time leaving the house since the funeral.

You go at night time, because Neji is still refusing any contact with anyone he knows and this way he’s less likely to be confronted when he isn’t ready for it. To make extra sure that you can be alone, you decide to walk around the edge of the woods around one of the quieter training grounds.

Neji doesn’t speak much, but he doesn’t whine or cry either, and the night air brings a little colour to his cheeks, and you’re so happy at the small improvements. It doesn’t matter how long it ends up taking him to feel better, you’ll be here with him the whole way.

…

“I was thinking about cooking something special next week,” you make idle conversation, not expecting Neji to reply. “It’s our anniversary after all, do you have any preference?”

Neji stops walking suddenly. His shoulders are tense.

“Neji?”

He hushes you harshly.

“I can hear…”

Without another word of warning, Neji makes his way a little further into the trees. You follow him, confused and worried.

“Byakugan!” he calls, scanning the area. He gasps as he scans over a nearby bush and immediately he drops to his knees beside it.

“Neji?” you ask, now more than a little concerned. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

You watch as Neji pulls something out of the bush. He turns around with a bundle in his arms.

“It’s a pup,” Neji says, obviously shocked. You can’t blame him, you’re feeling more than a little shocked yourself. What on earth was a pup doing out here? “They’re freezing. Give me your jacket.”

Without hesitance, you quickly slip your jacket of and hand it to Neji who promptly bundles up the pup in it and brings them to his chest. The pup is making small whimpering noises that had been almost impossible to hear over the wind. Neji must have hear them, thank goodness.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Neji coos to the pup. “You’re safe now, I'll take you home and make it better, I promise.”

“We need to get them to the hospital asap," you say, shaking your head. "They must be freezing and they look underweight as well. We’re not mednin, Neji.”

“Our home is closer.”

“Neji…”

“We need to make sure they’re warm,” he argues. “We can bring them home and alert a medic to make a home visit.”

You look at the earnest look on his face and know that he won’t back down, and now isn’t a time for arguments anyway.

“Okay,” you swallow nervously. “We’ll bring them home.”

…

You bring the pup back to your home and before you can protest, Neji brings them into his nest with a mumbled ‘they’ll be warm in there’.

Neji bundles himself and the pup up in the corner of the nest, turning on a little heater beside him, and tucking the pup into his shirt to share body warmth.

“We’ll get you nice and warm, it’s okay, you’re safe, I won’t let anyone harm you,” he whispers while stroking their cheek with a finger. The pup wriggles around, already looking more energetic, and starts mouthing at Neji’s chest.

“Are you hungry?” Neji laughs softly before turning to you. “Go and heat up a bottle for the pup, all the supplies are in the… the nursery.”

You nod dumbly and do as you’re asked, astounded at how much life is in Neji’s eyes. It’s the most life you’ve seen from him in months. But you can’t help but worry. What if Neji gets attached and you can’t keep the pup? Of course, you want nothing more than to keep the baby, it almost seems too good to be true that she literally fell into both your lives at this trying time, but what if it is too good to be true? What if they’re sick? Or their parents are looking for them? Or… something else. Neji doesn’t deserve another heartbreak, and you don’t want to destroy the small amount of progress he’s made in the last month.

But for now, all you can do is heat up the bottle.

…

“Here, it’s a good temperature, I already checked,” you pass Neji the bottle. He checks it again anyway and you can’t help but smile at how overprotective and parental he's being. It's so bittersweet to see him like this.

“Here you go sweetheart, just for you,” Neji smiles, cradling the pup as they latch onto the bottle with fervour. “Shh, shh, shh, slow down, it’s not going anywhere.”

Neji feeds the pup and then burps them, and you pretend you can’t see him smiling when he notices that they are starting to smell like him. You need to know you can keep her before you let him get even more attached.

“I’m going to send a clone for a medic, now.”

The room became tense all at once.

“They’re fine, I’m looking after them,” Neji protests.

“I know, and you’re doing a good job, but we still need a medic, Neji.”

Neji holds the pup more tightly to his chest, tucking an extra blanket around them. He's using the special blanket you had got commissioned for your pup. You can feel your heart break at the sight. He's already attached. Now you just have to hope you can keep them. For his sake.

“I don’t want them to take the pup away like last time,” Neji admits softly. "I can look after them, I won't let anything happen like last time, I promise. They'll be safe, we don't need a medic."

“We need to know their primary and secondary gender, omega, and we need to make sure they aren’t sick after being left in the woods…”

Neji hesitates but nods his consent in the end after you explain that your pup could become ill if left untreated. You don’t tell him that you are also sending a clone to the Hokage. Naruto will be able to grant you and Neji the right to keep the pup, and you hope that as Neji’s friend, he’ll be able to see how much he needs this.

…

You have to move Neji and the pup downstairs to wait for the medic, because Neji would not appreciate someone unknown seeing his nest he made for his pup. He’s not expecting Naruto to show up as well so you go to the door to intercept and prep them both.

“Thank you so much for coming, Naruto, I can’t tell you how much this means to me and Neji,” you say, hugging him as he walks through the door.

“I’m going to do everything I can,” he promises. “If the medic finds signs of long-term neglect, I can take the parental rights away from the biological parents straight away, even if I don't know who they are, and transfer you the rights.”

Your face visibly brightens, but Naruto continues.

“But if the only injuries are from laying in the forest for a few hours, I’ll have to try and find the parents first, because the child may have been taken from them by force, when the pup was otherwise a healthy baby being looked after sufficiently. In that circumstance, I’ll have to take the child back with me and put them in foster care until a three-month window has passed. And if the parents are found…”

“I know,” you sigh. “Let’s just get this done as soon as possible.”

The three of you walk into the living to see Neji cradling the pup tightly against his chest.

“Hey Neji,” Naruto greets softly with a sad smile. “I haven’t seen you around for a while.”

Neji tenses upon seeing Naruto.

“Naruto? Why are you here?” Neji clearly misinterprets the situation, holding the pup even more tightly and turning accusatory eyes against you. “Why did you bring him here?”

“I’m here to determine whether the pup was abandoned or kidnapped to the best of my abilities, once we have that done, we can decide how things are going to happen, okay?”

“How do you decide that?” Neji asks with distrustful eyes.

“The medic will give them a check-up, completely routine, I promise,” Naruto speaks with a soft voice like he’s talking to a cornered animal. Well, you look at Neji for a moment who is coiled as tightly as spring, he’s not far off.

It takes about five minutes for you to convince Neji to let go of the pup and hand them to the mednin, and then the next fifteen minutes involve you holding him in your arms to stop him wrestling the pup back from the mednin.

And then, rather ominously, the mednin pulls Naruto aside to talk.

Neji is shaking in your arms.

“It’s okay, calm down, Neji,” you try to comfort him.

“I can’t-“ Neji chokes, hands fisting in your shirt. “He has our pup, you let them take our pup.”

You don’t bother to correct him on his use of ‘our’, knowing it would only upset him more.

“I know baby, but they need to see that they’re healthy, nothing’s wrong, just breathe.”

Neji doesn’t take your advice.

"Last time they took them-"

"This isn't like last time, omega. Come one, try and settle down a little, that's it."

...

Naruto eventually walks back in, holding the pup securely, the mednin nowhere to be seen.

“So,” Naruto says seriously. And then his face breaks out into a wide grin. “Am I right in thinking you want to adopt?”

You can almost feel your relief in the air. Thanking every power that be for this stroke of luck. Losing this pup could have easily meant losing your mate, and the gravity of the situation all comes crashing down at once. Neji looks as though he is feeling much the same.

“Give me them,” he orders, arms out.

“Her,” Naruto corrects. “The mednin said she’s a female alpha.”

Tears start welling up in Neji’s eyes as he takes her. Their bio pup was a female alpha, too.

“Thank you,” he whispers to no one, holding his new pup as tightly as he dared. “I’ve got you now, you’re safe and sound with me, I won’t let anything hurt you ever again.”

Naruto slips out of the house without a fuss, dropping the mednin’s recommendations for feeding the underweight pup on the coffee table.

...

You and Neji take your new pup upstairs and bundle her back into the nest. Neji lays down with her, stroking her cheek as he watches her sleep.

“You need to get some rest too, omega,” you suggest, running a hand down Neji’s back.

“Guard?” he asks in response.

“Yes," you smile at his protective instincts. "I’ll guard the nest while you sleep, I promise.”

“Okay, alpha…” Neji settles down, still with one hand resting on the pup. “But if I don’t wake up when she cries, wake me… I want to be the one to feed her.”

You laugh gently, “Of course, now get some sleep. I’ll guard you both.”

[mypoisonedvine]

A Year Gone By | dark!Bucky Barnes x reader

happy birthday @nsfwsebbie​!!

it was supposed to be a surprise but then I couldn’t stop myself from telling you I was writing something, I managed to keep most of it under wraps though!  I hope the suspense pays off.  

idk if it’s weird that i made it a doctor reader when you’re not a doctor but listen...half the fun of reader insert is getting to vicariously live through a cool career right??  the other half of the fun is the obvious thing.  and it seemed a little creepy if i made the reader exactly like you but if you want it to be more accurate i will totally write you something with actual you in it lol

ANYWAYS I hope you enjoy it and most of all I hope you have a lovely, relaxing, fun birthday.  and i hope it makes you h word lmao.  ily darling <3

warnings: noncon, dubcon, stalking/kidnapping, ddlg, loss of virginity, bondage, oral sex (m and f receiving), anal sex, d/s, pet play, degradation, painful sex/pain kink, cockwarming, breeding, somnophilia (slightly), spitting, pregnancy mention, breeding kink, mention of drugging... I think that’s everything.

word count: just over 15.5k (YIIIIKES my bad)

Bucky always looked forward to appointments with you.  It wasn’t just because he had a crush on you, honest; you really were the best doctor he ever had.  Then again, between chain-smoking Brooklyn doctors who handed out morphine like candy and cruel Nazi or Soviet scientists, you weren’t competing with anybody too incredible.

“It’s not so bad,” he bluffed, but he couldn’t hide the wince when you touched his bruise.

“You’re not a very good liar, Sergeant,” you told him with a smile.  God, he loved when you called him that.  He hoped his body wouldn’t react to it in any uncomfortably obvious ways.  “Honestly, I’m a little worried about the bones.  I want to do an X-ray, if you don’t mind.”

“Go ahead,” he shrugged, “but you’re probably worrying too much.”

“You plan to walk off a compound fracture?” you scoffed.

“Bet I could, if you kiss it to make it better,” he smiled.  He was expecting you to giggle a little at the casual flirtation, which you did, but he was surprised when you bit your lip at the end of it.  That made it impossible to stop his cock from getting a bit interested, but thankfully it was still easy enough to hide.  Clearly his casual flirting was starting to get to you, and it made him especially impatient but he tried to stay calm.

“I’m a good doctor, but I’m not that good.  A prescription will do more for you,” you replied as you wrote something in his chart-- presumably that he needed to go down the hall for some x-ray work.

“If you say so.”

“Anything else bothering you?” you asked him.

“Oh, no, I won’t waste your time,” he dismissed.

“I’m getting paid, don’t worry,” you laughed.  “I don’t have any more appointments until after lunch.  Is there anything else going on?”

He shifted a little, the paper on the examination table crinkling as he did it.  “Um… it’s nothing, I just--” he glanced up at you but then looked away again, still embarrassed to admit it-- “I’ve had a little trouble sleeping…”

“Nightmares?” you pressed.  “Or general insomnia?”

“Um, nightmares,” he finally admitted, “not as bad as normal.  The meds helped.  Just… I still get them sometimes.”

“How many nights a week would you guess?” you asked.  But you didn’t look to his chart like it was a quiz or something, you kept looking at him with patience and compassion.  That was what really made his heart melt.

“Probably 2 or 3.”

“So we’re down from 6 to 7,” you remembered from what he’d said before you’d given him the medication he was on now, “that’s good.  That’s progress.  But, maybe we need to up your dosage if you haven’t seen better results after 4 weeks.  You haven’t missed any doses, have you?”

He tried to fight his embarrassed smirk but it was too late.

“Bucky!” you scolded playfully.  “I can’t up your dosage until you’re actually being consistent on the amount you already have, okay?  I know it can be easy to forget but you have to stay on it.  Set a timer on your phone or something if you need to.”

He nodded, but the problem wasn’t forgetting to take them as much as it was being ashamed that he needed them at all.  But he’d stay on them if it made you happy.

“Anything else?  Headache, twisted ankle, burns when you pee?”

He laughed and shook his head.  “No, I think that’s everything.”

“Great, then I’ll let you get to your newly-booked X-ray appointment.”  You handed him a sheet of paper for him to take to the X-ray office which informed the nurses there what angles you wanted on his ribs.  “Just know that you can call me if you need anything, alright?”

He took the slip of paper but suddenly couldn’t respond, too lost in looking at you and wondering if you’d felt that same jolt of electricity when his hand brushed yours.

“What are you looking at me like that for?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“You take care of so many people,” Bucky pondered aloud, “I just wonder if someone takes care of you.”

He could tell by your face that you didn’t like the way his tone shifted, but he refused to backpedal.  Just this once, he wanted to see you squirm a little bit.  

“Wanna lollipop?” you asked him nervously as you handed him the plastic-wrapped red sucker in offering, but he waved it away.  

He spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about how you would look with the cherry lollipop in your mouth: the way it would push your cheek out from the inside, stain your lips and tongue bright red, make your mouth taste like pure sugar.  

Of all the things he’d imagined before, that was the one that made him realize it couldn’t just be a fantasy anymore.  Thankfully, he hadn’t just been thinking of all the filthy things he wanted to do to you; he’d also been coming up with a plan.

~

The first thing you perceived when you woke up was the smell.  It didn’t smell like your room.  Such a simple difference, one you hadn’t even realized you would notice, but one that stood out instantly.

You opened your eyes and instantly spun your head around when you saw the grey cement room you were in.  The bed underneath you creaked, unlike your bed, and you looked down at it as if you somehow expected to be in an unknown room but still be in your own bed.  

It was then that you realized you were restrained with, of all things, satiny pink rope which pulled each of your limbs to the nearest bedpost.  There was enough slack that you could wiggle around some, but it wasn’t exactly roomy either.  Your heart raced as you pondered who could have possibly done this, and why.

You startled when you heard the door open, but relaxed when the menacing form suddenly struck you as familiar.

“Bucky,” you sighed with relief, “oh thank god you’re here-- quick, help untie me.”

As soon as you said it, though, you realized something wasn’t right.  He didn’t look concerned at all, or confused.  And that should be a good thing because it meant he had answers, except that you were suddenly realizing this was more complex than you were prepared for.

“Bucky… where are we?” you asked him, quieter, as you realized that he was not going to untie you immediately.  Even still you were coming to terms with the possibility that it wasn’t really a matter of where we were and where, specifically, you were.

“Somewhere safe,” he answered simply, stepping closer.

You didn’t exactly believe that.  

“Please, help untie me,” you requested again.

“I will,” he assured, “but I want to explain something first.”

Your heart sank straight through your stomach.  You didn’t understand what was going on quite yet, but you were getting the gist enough to know that this was really fucking bad.

“Bucky,” you pleaded as he sat down beside you on the bed, “please let me go.”  You felt very aware of how thin your pajama set was, how if he tried hard enough he could see your nipples hardening underneath your top for no apparent reason.

“Don’t get upset,” he soothed, “everything’s fine.  I’m not going to hurt you-- nobody will anymore.  You’re gonna stay here, with me, and I’m gonna take care of you.”

Your eyes burned with tears you couldn’t fight anymore.  “Don’t do this,” you begged, “I’m your friend-- we’re friends, remember?”

“Of course I know that,” he sighed, “but that’s not enough.  Couldn’t you tell I’d fallen in love with you?”

You shook your head, trying to process everything you were hearing.  “This is insane.  This is not what you do when you have feelings for somebody, Bucky.”

“What, you’re saying I should’ve just asked you out?”

“Well, I wouldn’t have been able to say yes-- because you’re my patient--”

“See?  That’s what the ropes are for!” he smiled, like he was actually proud of his problem-solving skills.  “You would’ve said yes if you could, I know.  But you couldn’t.  And now you don’t have to.”

You resented that he was right, that you would’ve dated him in a heartbeat if it wasn’t an ethical violation.  You got the sense there were going to be even more severe ethical violations in your future, though.

You continued to beg him to stop, but it fell on deaf ears as he reached under the elastic waistband of your pajama shorts and pulled them down slowly.  He gasped when he saw your pussy and you wished you could just disappear, turn invisible or, best of all, teleport out of here; anything to avoid this humiliation.

“Baby, you’re wet,” he observed.  You weren’t sure if the first or second half of the sentence made you more uncomfortable, but either way, you couldn’t stop the shivers from dancing up your spine.  “This all for me?  Do you like being tied up?”

You refused to answer, looking to the side as if the concrete wall was suddenly fascinating to you, but he grabbed your jaw and turned you to look at him.

“I know you don’t know all the rules yet, but here’s the first one, and maybe the most important: answer me when I speak to you.”

It was cold but not quite threatening; still scared you senseless, though.  You nodded.

“Do you like being tied up?” he repeated.

“N-no,” you answered.

“Answer honestly,” he specified.

You had, but you realized it was going to be safer to do what he wanted, so you cleared your throat and spoke again.

“Yes,” you whispered, “I like… being tied up.”

“That’s it?” he pressed.  “It’s not me being here, is it?  You never got wet when you saw me in appointments?”

This was going to be a lot harder than you anticipated.  It seemed like there was no right answer.

“Didja ever get wet for somebody else?  It was Steve, wasn’t it?”

“No!” you instinctively answered.  “Um, I like Steve.  But just as a friend.”

“Aw,” he smiled, “I knew you were the loyal type.  Remember just a minute ago when you were begging me to stop cause you were my friend?  I think you were lying then too, doll.  You didn’t want to be just friends with me.”

“Whatever you’re going to do, just do it,” you grimaced.  “I’m getting irritated.”

You yelped when he slapped the inside of your thigh, trying to pull away but only making it easier for him to dip under your leg so that he was between them, sitting back on the bed in front of you.

“Respect gets you a long way with me,” he promised, pulling a knife from a strap on his thigh and using it to quickly cut off the shorts.  “Sass does not.”

You winced as he slipped a finger into you-- metal, and it was cold, too.  Soothed the burn a bit, at least.

“Oh god,” he sighed, “just one finger and it barely fits…”  You watched realization pass over his face as his gaze moved to your eyes.  “Baby, are you a virgin?”

You closed your eyes because you knew they would reveal the truth.  In all honesty it was probably better that he knew so there was at least some chance of him going easy on you, and yet you were still embarrassed for him to find out.

“Oh, you’re going to spoil me,” he grinned.  “You really are too good to be true.”

A second finger pushed into you and a bite to the lip suppressed your moan.  

“I’ll warm you up first, don’t worry,” he cooed.  “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Then why did you tie me up?”

“That’s for your safety, baby.  I don’t wanna have to hurt you,” he clarified.

A third finger, immediately after you had adjusted to the second.  You had never had so much inside you before and it made you feel a bit dizzy.  His thumb grazed over your clit and you nearly jumped right off the bed as your hips bucked suddenly-- since when were you so sensitive?!

“Oh, poor little baby, you need it so bad,” he faux-pouted.  You couldn’t tell if it was a mockery or genuine concern.  “You’ll get it angel, don’t worry.  Daddy’s gonna take care of you.”

That word made you feel a little sick.  No wonder he needed to kidnap girls to get his rocks off, clearly this was the kind of stuff a normal date wouldn’t agree to.

Then again, it was Bucky Barnes.  He could probably get any girl he wanted, even if he had some weird tastes.  You still didn’t understand why it had to be you, specifically.  

His thumb stayed on your clit, the pressure moving from teasing to firm to nearly too much.  You tried to angle your hips away but the ropes stopped you (of course), and you were forced to take every sensation he gave you.

“You’re trying so hard to stay quiet, just let go,” he encouraged.  “I wanna hear how good I make you feel.”

“Maybe I’m just naturally quiet,” you bluffed, but even just those few words were strained, and surrounded by panting as you failed to catch your breath.

“Oh, we both know that’s not true.  I’ve heard you when you thought you were alone, doll.”

You knew what he must have meant, but it still made you whimper when he leaned in to whisper in your ear: “I heard you touching yourself.”

Your face was burning and you were sure you’d never blushed so hard in your life.  You couldn’t be sure how much he’d heard, but just the way he smiled down at you made you sure he must have heard the times that his name passed your lips as you reached your peak.  

Of course he couldn’t just let you stew in that, he had to mock you even further.

“Oh Bucky,” he recalled, raising the pitch of his voice a little, “please let me come, I’m so close, please…”

“Stop,” you begged, tears sliding down your temples.  The fingers twisted inside you as both of you groaned.

“Yeah, it’s not a very good impression,” he sighed, “it’ll sound better when you do it.  Don’t you wanna moan for me again?”

“You stalked me,” you realized aloud, “you spied on me at night, you kidnapped me--”

“And now we’re both getting what we want.  I know you wished it was my fingers instead of yours.  Doesn’t it feel good baby?  Admit it.  Tell me it feels good.”

You were determined to resist until he pulled his fingers out and used the metal hand to slap your pussy, both of you gasping at the wet noise it made.  He did it again and your hips bucked wildly even as you were trying with everything in you not to react.  One more and you finally moaned, the pain brief but strong while the pleasure never seemed to lessen.

“Just be honest,” he demanded, “I know you love it.  I just need you to say it.”

One more spank and you were finally willing to cut your losses.  “It feels good!” you exclaimed.  You cried out when he hit you again, not having seen it coming at all since you’d done as he asked.  “Say it again.”

“It feels good, Bucky, your fingers feel good,” you whimpered.

He finally seemed to calm down, giving you an oddly friendly smile.  “Was that so hard?”

You shook your head, just trying to appreciate the stillness while you could.  

“One little thing though: you don’t call me Bucky anymore.  My friends call me Bucky; you’re so much more special than that.  You’re my perfect little angel, and you call me Daddy.”

You saw it coming, but it didn’t make it any less awful.  You squirmed a bit as he pushed up your top, biting his lip when he got a glimpse of your breasts.

“Oh, when did these get hard, huh?” he smiled as he tweaked your nipples between his fingers.

“It’s… cold in here,” you explained uncomfortably.

“Uh huh,” he pretended to believe you.  “Don’t worry, we’ll find a way to warm you up.”

He let go of your tits so he could pull back and start undoing his belt; you swallowed dryly, not wanting to watch but unable to look away.

Of course he was big.  It explained his personality, and you’d had your suspicions (and/or fantasies), but now all it did was scare you.

“Will it hurt?” you asked weakly.  He smiled as he pulled off his shirt from behind his neck, tossing it aside.  

“No baby, I stretched you with my fingers so you can take me.  Might be a little bit of an adjustment at first, but we’ll go slow, okay?”

You couldn’t decide if it was sweet or patronizing.  A little of both, perhaps.

He leaned over you, resting one hand beside your head as the other guided his cock to rub through your folds.  You struggled again, barely able to process that this was actually going to happen, that you were going to lose your virginity tied up in some creepy sex dungeon to an obsessive patient who demanded you call him ‘Daddy.’  This wasn’t exactly the situation you had been saving it for.

“Ready for me, baby?  Want me to make you mine?” he asked with a look of excitement, even vulnerability.  Your body craved more after he’d left you dangling on the edge from his fingering, but your brain was thankfully still functioning properly.

“Please don’t,” you whimpered, “you can stop now, and I won’t tell anyone, and--”

“Baby, don’t talk like that,” he frowned.  “This is it, okay?  Us.  Just us.  Nobody else to get in the way.  You’re not gonna tell anyone ‘cause there’s no one to tell.”

“You can’t,” you denied, “I have a life-- people who care about me, who are going to notice that I’m gone--”

“No, babygirl, stop-- you’re not listening to me,” he growled.  “Stop fighting.  You’re mine.  You’re finally where you belong.”

“This is crazy,” you spat, “you’re crazy!”

“Baby…” he looked dejected, crestfallen.  “You’re the only one who’s ever helped me feel normal again.  If I’m crazy it’s only because I love you so much; I need you, doll.”

“You need intensive psychiatric care!”

Sadness shifted to anger as he sat back and stuffed his cock back into his trousers, even though it barely fit now that it was fully hard and leaking from the tip.

“I realize now I’ve given you more than you can handle.  I knew you liked me back so I figured you would understand a little sooner but… I should’ve known you need more time before you really admit to yourself that you need someone to take care of you.”

Your relief shifted to fear when he stood back up off the bed and stepped away.

“Wait, don’t leave me here,” you squeaked, “untie me, please.”

Instead he knelt down and pulled a box out from under the bed.  You couldn’t see what was inside when he opened it, but he seemed to find what he was looking for when he pulled out a vibrator and shut the lid.  It was thin and a little curved, so when he roughly shoved it into you it hit right on your g-spot.  You tried to squirm away but he held your hips down and turned it on to a setting that strobed the vibrations, teasing your spot but never giving you enough to get very far.

“I’ll come back when I think you’ve learned your lesson,” he informed you quickly as he started to leave the room.

“Bucky-- Bucky wait!” you called after him.  “There’s no food or water you can’t leave me here wait don’t go BUCKY!”

But he was long gone.  The door slammed behind him and echoed around the room; only when the sound was completely dead were you sure that he wasn’t coming back any time soon.

You had no way of knowing how much time had passed, but it felt like an eternity of you wiggling against the ropes, trying to either knock the vibrator out of you somehow or get it to move enough that you could at least come and feel some relief.  Trying to push it out with your muscles was useless since the curved shape kept it inside of you, and you couldn’t arch your back enough to press it into the bed-- and if you could, you weren’t sure what good that would do.

Every once in a while the vibration would echo through your clit and it made your eyes water.  You sobbed and bit your lip, hoping he would come back soon.

It was at least twice as long before he did, and at that point your voice had gone hoarse from calling out to him.  You cried out for Bucky at least a hundred times and got nothing; but when you called for ‘Daddy’ just once, he suddenly appeared.

Somehow his return didn’t bring much relief, because you weren’t exactly safe with him around… but at least you weren’t alone.

He reached between your legs and turned the vibrator off, though he left it inside of you.  You took a deep breath and appreciated the stillness, though your body panged with hunger from so much pleasure with no release.

“I hated doing that to you,” he breathed deeply as he sat beside you on the bed, “but it had to be done.  You were behaving so poorly.  I’ve gone easy on you up until now but I can’t tolerate any more rebelliousness, alright?”

You nodded slowly, feeling the weight of his disappointment sink over you.  

When he pulled out the vibrator, the tip of it grazed over your abused and sensitive g-spot and you bit back a groan.  He set it aside and admired the mess you’d made; you couldn’t see it, of course, but you could tell that there was a wet patch of arousal beneath you on the sheets.

“Your body is ready for me, but I’m not sure your mind is right yet,” he explained, steely gaze finally meeting yours.  “Are you going to be good, little girl?”

You were too exhausted to notice the nickname, or even to speak your reply.  You just nodded again, watching him as he started unlacing his boots and slipped them off, then took his socks, trousers, and underwear off along with them.

Shit, you’d nearly forgotten how big he was.  You swallowed with a dry throat and closed your eyes, just hoping it would be over with quickly.  

“Open your eyes babygirl, I wanna look at you,” he murmured, running a finger across your cheek.  You reluctantly obeyed and saw him hovering above you.  He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips and it felt so wrong, so empty and peculiar.  It was a weak facsimile of what a kiss was supposed to be like.  He closed his eyes and ran his fingers into your hair, and it had all the trappings of the kind of kiss you’d share as a goodbye after a first or second date, but without any of the stuff that mattered like positive feelings or consent or not being in a creepy cement sex dungeon-- or whatever this was supposed to be.

He pulled away and looked down at you again, anger just starting to brew in his eyes.  “Kiss me back,” he demanded.  This time when he pressed his lips to yours, his tongue slid between them and it made you feel a little sick but you did your best to reciprocate.  You found yourself trying to reach up to put your hands on his hair or neck but of course, the ropes made it impossible.

You felt his cock pressing between your thighs, rubbing up and down slowly, and your heart began to race.  One hand slid between your bodies to guide his cock towards your entrance and he said something but you couldn’t hear it because your ears were ringing.  

As soon as he pushed into you, your body jolted, trying to squirm away, but he just kept going, sliding into you in one long stroke.

Physically, it wasn’t painful.  The vibrator had helped relax your walls, even numbed them a little bit.  And yet, even without pain it was so much.  You felt like the wind had been knocked out of you, like you were so full you couldn’t even breathe.  

When he was fully seated inside you, Bucky moaned deeply, kissing your neck and mumbling something about how perfect you were.  But all you could focus on was his cock pulling back only to slam home again.  

“Fuck!” you yelped.  You had no idea anything could be so deep inside you.  

“Watch your language, angel,” he purred, biting at your earlobe.  “You promised to be good, remember?”

The hand that had been gripping your thigh suddenly moved to rub your clit and you choked on a moan.  

“It’s okay, it’s supposed to feel good,” he encouraged.  “It’s okay to come, baby.  I know how bad you wanna come for me.”

You were embarrassingly close as he had observed, a side effect of having been left on the edge for so long.  You could feel your walls rippling around him, and you wondered if he could feel it, too.  Every thrust stroked parts of you that you hadn’t even realized existed, and when he pushed as deep as he could into you, the tip of his cock hit something so sensitive that you genuinely couldn’t tell if it was painful or pleasurable.  

“Are you close?  I don’t know how much longer I can last, you’re so tight,” he groaned.  “Fuck, you want me to fill you up don’t you?  Wanna be full of Daddy’s cum?”

Before you could even consider ignoring his question, he wrapped his left hand around your neck.

“Yes, Daddy,” you croaked through the weight on your windpipe, “fill me up, please.”

Talking like that made your heart twist with shame but somehow pushed you even closer to your peak.  You knew he could tell that you were turned on by it from the way your muscles tightened around him.

“I will baby, I promise,” he smiled.  “Do you wanna beg to come, like you did when you were by yourself?”

You moaned because it was like a fantasy come true, in a monkey’s paw sort of way.  This is what you had wanted, right?  Just… in a way completely different from how it was turning out?

“Daddy, please,” you answered, so quiet and heavy with embarrassment that it was barely above a whisper, “please let me come.”

“Oh fuck,” he responded hoarsely as his thrusts came faster, more ragged.  “Come, princess.  I wantcha to scream for me.”

As you started to fall over the edge, you felt like you had lost control over your body; your arms and legs tugged at the ropes as jolts of pleasure coursed through them, and your mouth was spilling moans and whimpers and even his name.  His real name, specifically, though he thankfully didn’t seem to mind.  He kissed you again as he came, moaning into your lips and still inside you.  

You felt cold and sticky and humiliated as he sat up and pulled out, admiring the way your hole leaked out his seed and flexed involuntarily around nothing.

“Oh look at you,” he praised, “my perfect little girl.  You’re even more amazing than I dreamed, doll.”

You tried not to listen or watch him as he got off the bed, coming back with boxers on and a damp washcloth to clean you.

“I’m gonna untie you now, okay?  Promise you won’t kick me or anything?” 

You quickly nodded, willing to promise anything if it meant getting untied.  “You’ll just do more harm to you than to me if you try anything, angel,” he reminded you quickly as he started work on your right ankle.  The ropes were silky so they hadn’t been rubbing your skin too raw, but there was still soreness from the tight knots.  You were a bit surprised when he gave your ankle and foot a brief massage once he was done untying the rope, and did the same to your other foot, and then your wrists and hands.  It helped a lot with getting the blood flow back to normal, and you almost considered thanking him but that would’ve been ridiculous.  ‘Hey, thanks for the foot massage, next time don’t tie me up and rape me first but, otherwise 10/10.’  

~

Bucky was so impressed with the progress you’d made in a week.  Only two escape attempts and you’d taken your punishment quite well both times.  He had expected a rocky start, he’d understood what he was getting himself into, so none of it really came as a surprise.  You’d managed to get a good crack at his nose once, kicking him straight between the eyes before making a run for it.  Yes, it hurt like a bitch and took a few days to heal, but it had actually been a blessing in disguise; that day you’d made it out the front door and realized that you were in the middle of nowhere.  When he’d caught up to you, you were standing barefoot and half-naked in the snow, not even running anymore because, apparently, you’d realized there was nowhere to run to.  

“I built this place for us, for you,” he explained.  “Somewhere far away, all to ourselves.  Nobody for miles.”

“How many miles?”

He chuckled a bit to himself.  “Baby, it’s a really big number.  You’re too little to understand.”

Normally you resisted that sort of talk but this time it shut you up.  Hopefully you were beginning to properly realize that this was your new life.

“Are we in New York?” you asked, quieter.

“I’m not sure if I should tell you that yet.  I don’t want you to get any complicated ideas in that pretty little head,” he cooed, kissing your forehead for emphasis before leaving you behind to start cooking dinner.

“I’m not eating with these,” you announced firmly as he set your place at the table with a set of pink, rubber-coated utensils.  

“It’s too messy to eat with your hands,” he frowned.

“Do you honestly not realize that I want to eat with normal utensils?  Or are you just trying to drive me insane?”

Bucky set your plate down a little too firmly, making you and the food on top jump.  “Don’t talk back to me.”  

“I just… it’ll take me forever to finish an adult-sized portion of food with child-sized utensils.”

“Then maybe you’re not ready for an adult-sized portion,” he threatened.  That seemed to get your attention, but you stayed quiet.  “Maybe you’re not hungry at all?”

“I’m hungry,” you denied.  “Please, I want to eat.”

“And I want to eat with you.  But this roundabout is getting on my last nerve, doll.  Now are you gonna be good and eat your dinner?”

“...yes, Daddy,” you sighed.  He smiled and sat down across from you.  You were learning.  Slowly, but surely.

Bath time was always a fight, though.  You still had some ridiculous notions about ‘privacy’ and ‘autonomy’ and crap like that, and it meant that you were likely to act up and refuse to be washed.

“I can do it myself!”

“But you don’t have to, don’t you see?”

“I want to.”

“The world doesn’t revolve around what you want, angel.”

“Let me guess: it revolves around what you want?” “No,” Bucky shook his head and tried to summon some more patience, “I have to take care of you.  Sometimes that means doing things you don’t like, because I know what’s best for you.”

“I hate you,” you mumbled as you turned away, and that really broke his heart.  He knew you didn’t really mean it, but it still hurt.

“Baby… don’t say that,” he pleaded as he turned your face to him.  “It hurts Daddy’s feelings when you say things like that.”

“Yes, that was the idea,” you hissed.  “I just want to take a shower, alone.”

“Any chance you had at that is long gone,” he grimaced.  “What you’re getting is a bath, with me, and if you quit this attitude now you might still be able to avoid getting a spanking as well, do you understand?”

Your shoulders slumped as you nodded.  He knew your poor little bottom was still sore from the last spanking, and as he helped you undress for the bath, he could still see a few welts along the skin.  He kissed them quickly, a reminder to both of you what he was capable of, before helping you into the water and slipping in behind you.  It was spacious, so there was ample room for the two of you, but he still held you close and pressed your back into his chest.  

He had a lot of ideas about what you two could do in this bath, but he knew that now was not the time.  Still, he let his mind wander and smiled to himself when you gasped from his erection pressing into your thigh.

He helped you wash your hair, and for that moment where your head was nearly submerged and he was using his fingers to massage out the shampoo, you looked so peaceful.  He normally only got to appreciate this look on your face as you slept, but you were almost smiling this time, and it made his heart sing.  A week of tantrums was worth it for just a few quiet moments like this.

“I’m gonna let you finish up on your own, okay?  I trust you not to do anything dangerous…” he decided as he stepped out.  

“Really?” your face instantly lit up.  Sure, you’re never supposed to leave them alone in the bath, but he was feeling extra generous and he sympathized with your desire for control.  Freedom could be good for you, in moderation.

“Of course.”

“T-thank you, Daddy,” you awkwardly responded.

He dried off and dressed, and waited nearby in the living room, listening to you drain the bathwater and start a shower.    

You emerged wrapped in a towel and looking slightly lost.

"Honey, where are your clothes?" he asked you with a furrowed brow.

“I don’t have anything to wear,” you informed him.  Oh, right.  You were being resistant to wearing the clothes he had picked out for you.  Apparently you found the overwhelming presence of baby pink to be tacky, and you hated that everything was cute and tiny… he couldn't understand seeing something cute and tiny and not liking it.  After all, you were the most adorable thing he'd laid eyes on and it made it impossible not to like you.  You just needed clothes to match.

“I have clothes laid out for you,” he explained.

“I’d rather be naked than wear what you pick for me,” you snarled.

“Hey, I wouldn’t complain,” he shrugged, trying to suppress his frustration.  “Don’t come bitchin’ to me when you’re cold, though.”

You sat next to him on the couch, defiantly naked and confidently ignoring him.  He admired your stubbornness, or at least he found it amusing.

“Do you wanna watch a movie now?” he asked, but he knew you had figured out that this was a mandatory activity.

“Don’t see any reason to wait,” you smiled sarcastically.

Of course, when he got up to show you some DVDs so you could pick what you wanted (Wall-E; he knew you didn’t actually want to watch that since your typical fare was horror and action movies, but it was your favorite of the options), he quickly turned down the thermostat.  Perhaps a comfortable 55 Fahrenheit would help you remember why it’s important to take what Daddy gives you.

He hadn’t seen Wall-E before but he found it oddly relatable.  A robot, built for someone else’s purpose, abandoned in a filthy, empty world… it brought back some old feelings that he managed to press back down.  

Regardless, he was distracted from it when he could literally feel you shivering from across the couch.

“Are you cold, darling?” he asked presumptuously.

“No,” you denied, barely managing to suppress the chattering of your teeth.

“Do you want the clothes?” 

“Shut up.”

He just laughed a little to himself, ignoring your rude language and turning back to the TV.

It did kill him a bit to have to pretend he didn’t care when you were obviously uncomfortable, but you would’ve been even more irritated with him if he’d held you down and forced you to put the outfit on.

~

This fucker was smart, you’d give him that.  Or maybe it was just that you were stupid.  Not stupid, really, but having no sense of self-preservation.  Why had you chosen this hill to die on?  You couldn’t even remember why you’d put up a fight at all.  You were so cold that you couldn’t even understand what could’ve ever compelled you to reject an offer of clothes.  Didn’t help that you knew he was so close, that if you cuddled up to him you would be warm, but that it would mean the loss of your last shred of dignity.

Only a week and you were starting to completely lose your sense of yourself.  You searched within and couldn’t find any of the fight you’d had so many times before.  You remembered that time you kicked him right in the face, and where you once found pride at the memory, you found guilt.  You felt guilty for hurting him, after everything he’d done to you-- why?

“B-bucky…” you finally relented not even an hour into the movie, stammering from the force of your shivers.

“Hm?”

“I want… I want the c-clothes.”

He smiled a little, in an insulting way.  “Ask nicely, doll.”

“P-please, Daddy,” you whimpered.

He came back with the clothes in hand, but when you reached out for them, he shook his head and motioned for you to stand up.  You sighed but obeyed, your entire body shaking with violent shivers as your bare feet hit the cool concrete floor.  

He knelt down, holding the lace panties open for you as you shyly stepped into them.  He pulled them up to your hips and let the elastic slap your skin a little as he let go, making you jump.  He did the same with the fuzzy pink pyjama pants, running his hands over soft fabric for just a second as he stood up, helping you into the loose grey sweatshirt.  It was the least feminine thing he’d ever let you wear, noticeably absent in anything pink or fuzzy or girly or adorned with bows.  You only realized as it slipped over your head that it was his, because once you plunged into darkness inside of it, you were overwhelmed with the smell of him.  You wouldn’t have known that you could recognize his smell, but now that you were in it, it was undeniable.

You were almost surprised to see him when your head popped through the neckline, somehow.  It’s not as if you had forgotten he was there in the three seconds you couldn’t see him, just that he looked so different to you now.  He had this stoic, nearly stern look on his face as he helped you get your hands through the sleeves, and the way he caressed your fingers as they emerged from the cotton was so upsettingly tender.

“Daddy…” you mumbled, and he looked back at your face.  

“Is this better?  Are you warmer?”

“My feet…” you realized, looking down at them.  

“I’ll get you some socks, baby,” he nodded, dashing away for a moment.  You felt colder with him gone.  It couldn’t be loneliness, could it?  Even knowing he’d only be gone less than a minute, you were unduly anxious for his return.

He came back and held your feet up by the ankle one at a time as he rolled pink fuzzy socks-- with lace at the ankle, of course-- over your feet.  You wiggled your toes into them, finally feeling like you’d be able to get warm again.

“Let’s finish the movie, okay?” he suggested, rubbing his hands on your arms.  You nodded, allowing him to guide you back to the couch and finding yourself cuddling into his side as he laid an arm over your shoulders.

You barely managed to pay attention as you felt his hand slip lower, resting on your waist.  Then your hip, then your thigh.

Something about the way the lace panties rubbed against your pussy made you feel so oddly sensitive, and even the inside of his sweatshirt was just rough enough to make your nipples react every time you adjusted your position.

You figured he realized your condition pretty quickly, but he didn’t react until a moan, so quiet that you were sure he wouldn’t hear it, passed your lips.

“Everything alright, doll?” he asked, failing to hide the fact that he clearly knew the answer.

You didn’t respond, distracted by his other hand reaching over and stroking your thigh.  You were caged in his embrace now, and your heart raced in a way that was oddly lacking in fear.

“Tell me what you’re feeling,” he demanded, watching your nervous reaction to his intensity.

“Daddy I… I feel tingly,” you murmured, feeling yourself blush.

“Where, baby?”

“D-down there,” you admitted as you forced your eyes shut, too embarrassed to look him in the face as you said it.

“You need Daddy’s help?”

“Please,” you whispered, hating yourself a little for needing him but too desperate to really care.

In one motion he’d already turned the TV off, pulled you onto his lap, and started kissing where the baggy neckline of the sweatshirt exposed your collarbone.

You were rubbing yourself on his thigh and you didn’t even know how to stop.  It felt so good.  It made your skin warm up even faster as you recovered from the cold.  

He slipped his right hand into your pants as the other pulled you closer until your face was buried in his neck.  If there was anything worth appreciating about Bucky, it was how good he was with his fingers.  He knew your body better than you did at this point-- but then again, he had spent so much time exploring it in one week that he was probably competing with you already in terms of practice time.  

“Oh my god,” you moaned as his fingers moved faster and firmer, making your hips jerk forward unexpectedly.  

“It feels good?” he asked in that way that made it obvious he knew the answer.

“Yes, Daddy, it feels so good,” you whimpered.  You’d gotten pretty good by now at appeasing him by performing the role he wanted you to play… so good, in fact, that it was starting to feel very real.

Just as you were grabbing onto his shoulders to hold you steady through your orgasm, he was pulling out his hand and reaching for his own pants instead.

“Need to be inside you,” he explained quickly as he pushed them down and revealed his hard, leaking cock.  “I need to be inside you when I make you come.”

He helped you slide off your pants and underwear but pulled you back into his lap the absolute second they were discarded.  He slid you down onto his cock with a groan, and your face was so hot as you processed how wet you were, how easily he entered you.  Your joy halted, though, when he held your hips down.  You tried to wiggle around for some friction but he was so strong that it was a complete waste.

“Daddy,” you mumbled with confusion, “what are you doing?”

“You’re mine, baby, ‘m gonna use you how I please,” he reminded you darkly, “and right now I want you to stay still and wait.”

“But--” 

He slapped your ass harshly, and you whimpered but decided not to put up much more of a fight.

All the while as you tried to stay still, he was kissing your neck and jaw and cheeks, murmuring praises and leaving the softest bite marks every once in a while.

“Please let me move,” you sobbed against his shoulder, having to fight everything in you not to start grinding on him like your life depended on it.

“I’m not ready yet,” he denied.

“I’ll be good, I promise,” you whimpered.  “I’ll do anything.  I just need to come, and I need to make you come, please…”

With a hand on either side of your hips, he started to move you on top of him, excruciatingly slow.  Your head fell back from how wonderful just that felt.  

“Anything?  You’re gonna spoil me talking like that, doll.”

“Oh god, anything, just move a little faster, please,” you begged.  Of course you knew it was a bad idea, and you figured you were going to regret saying it, but your need was surpassing your sanity at the moment.

He grabbed your face and pulled you down until your lips were almost brushing his, but not quite.  “Keep riding my cock, babygirl.”  You nodded, finally free to pick up the pace to where you wanted it, and you bit your lip as his cock stretched you exactly how you needed it to.

“Daddy, you feel so good inside me,” you moaned.

“I can tell,” he smiled, “you’re making those perfect noises, it’s killing me not to flip you over and fuck you so hard right now.”

You were much more inspired by that mental image than you expected to be.  Those few times he’d gotten really rough with you, it had made you so wet you thought you might get dehydrated.

When he spoke again, his voice was so low that it sounded like a growl, echoing in his chest and making shivers run up your spine.  “I know what I want you to do for me.”

You swallowed and braced yourself as he pulled you even closer, looking right into your eyes.

“Tell me you love me,” he demanded.

You gasped, tears starting to burn at the back of your eyes.  It was the last thing you expected, but it also tracked.  Of course that was what he wanted.  But now that you were trying to form words and nothing would come out, you were kind of wishing he’d just said he wanted anal.

“D-daddy,” you stammered, distracted by him grabbing your hips and moving you even faster on top of him.  He was practically throwing you up and down on top of him, and somehow doing it effortlessly.

“Just say it,” he whispered.

“I love you,” you whispered back.  He smiled and pulled you into a deep kiss, swallowing every moan as you felt yourself barrelling towards your peak.

“Please, I’m about to come-- can I come, Daddy?”

“Almost,” he nodded, “say it again, babygirl.”

“I love you,” you panted, “Daddy, I love you, please--”

“One more time,” he grunted, watching your face. 

“I love you!” you yelped, unable to hold back your orgasm any longer and feeling your walls flutter as sensation washed over you.  Thankfully he wasn’t far behind, only thrusting up into you a few more times before he spilled himself with a groan.

He kissed you long and slow, staying inside you even as his cock began to soften a little.  When he pulled away, he looked up at you with an expression that brimmed with restrained excitement.

“Oh, doll, you have no idea how good it is to finally hear you say that,” he beamed.  “We’re gonna be so happy here together… just me and my best girl, right?”

“Right,” you smiled, but as soon as you blinked a tear was rolling down your cheek.  He wiped it away with his thumb.

“Don’t cry,” he soothed, “everything’s finally the way it’s supposed to be.  You’re finally where you belong, with me.”

You nodded weakly and felt whatever grip you had on your sanity loosening.  Dreams of escape faded as he carried you to bed, holding you in his arms all night long.  You were beginning to embrace the simplicity of just letting life happen to you.  For every time you felt belittled and patronized by his coddling, there was another time that you secretly felt protected and loved.  The truth was, even though you had experienced so much that you couldn’t begin to describe in the past week, you had been relieved of so much of the stress you dealt with before.  As you drifted to sleep, you only hoped that you could manage to hide that truth from yourself just a little bit longer.

~

He was honestly proud of himself for managing to keep his hands off you while you slept all this time.  But it wasn’t too much longer before you woke him up with your stirring.  At first he was just going to give you a quick hug and then get back to sleep, but then as he pulled you closer, he realized you were dreaming.  And when you moaned quietly in your sleep, he realized it wasn’t just any dream.

He smiled to himself as he kissed your neck gently, wondering if you would wake up or not.  It was sort of a win-win either way for him.  He let his hands slide down your body, listening to your breathing as it began to pick up.  Your mouth fell open and it made your sounds even more apparent as he carefully opened your legs.

“Oh baby, you’re drenched,” he murmured to no one in particular, admiring the way your pussy glistened in the low light of the room.  This was one of those times that he really appreciated his choice to make you sleep naked almost every night.

One metal finger sliding through your folds made you shiver.  He wondered if it was from arousal or if the metal felt cold on your warm skin.  Your clit was swollen, and apparently extra sensitive from the way your sleeping body erupted in goosebumps when he drew lazy circles around it.

Suddenly lacking in the patience more foreplay would require, he found himself shoving down his boxers and stroking his cock, preparing to push into you.  If that didn’t wake you up, he’d be slightly concerned… but he wasn’t sure if he’d be concerned enough to stop fucking you.  Thankfully he didn’t have to face that dilemma because the second he was pressing his head into your opening, your eyes flew open.

“Daddy!” you yelped, your voice sounding a little strange as you were torn from your sleep.

He bottomed out and groaned softly, relishing how tightly you wrapped around him.  “You looked so beautiful, baby, I couldn’t help myself.”

You mewled but said nothing, only wrapping your hands around his biceps as he pulled back to thrust into you again.  

“What were you dreaming about?” he asked firmly.

“N-nobody-- I mean, uh, nothing,” you stumbled over your words.

“Oh, you can’t lie to me very well can you?  It’s okay doll, you can tell me, but if it’s someone other than me I’m probably gonna kill him.”

He felt you tense up a little and he knew he’d scared you.  He sort of wanted to do it again, because he loved the way your cunt tightened in that moment, but he decided against it.

“Aw, I’m just joking,” he dismissed, though he wasn’t quite sure if he actually was or not.  “Go ahead, tell me what you were dreaming.”

“Y-you were there,” you explained, “but it wasn’t just you.”

“Is that so?”

“Um, yeah,” you deflected nervously.

“Go ahead, spit it out,” he hissed as he started to thrust into you a bit harder.  

“Well, uh, Steve was there too,” you finally admitted.  A lot of emotions hit him at once when he heard you say that.  Of course jealousy was prominent, but it was different than it would’ve been before... you were home now, and nobody could take you away.  Both of you knew that.  So it might have been a slight blow to the ego, but he didn’t see Steve as a threat.  What he did see was an opportunity to make you squirm, which he was always looking for.

“Was he watching us?” Bucky pressed.

“Uh, sort of…” you trailed off.

He leaned down, putting his lips right against your ear.  “Was he fucking you?”

You whimpered but he could tell you were turned on.  He reached down and roughly rubbed at your clit.  “Be honest, darling.”

“He wasn’t,” you explained, “you were; you said he wasn’t allowed to… but I gave him a-- a blowjob.”

As much as Bucky wasn’t exactly the sharing type, he was intrigued by the mental image of you stuffed with cock at both ends like that.  Even more so he was intrigued by the fact that it apparently turned you on.

“Is that what you want, huh?  One cock isn’t good enough for you?  Who knew you were such a fucking slut.”

“‘M not!” you denied.

“Then why are you soaked from dreaming about choking on somebody else’s cock while I fuck you, huh?”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“And how did you feel when I told Stevie he wasn’t allowed to fuck you?  Even in your sleep you know your Daddy owns you.  That this is my hole and I decide everything that happens to it.”

You moaned so loud that he was afraid he would come right then and there.  You sounded like heaven.  He thrust into you as hard and deep as he could, slamming into your cervix and hitting your clit with his pelvis with each brutal motion.  You cried out and dug your nails into his skin.  

“Fuck, you like it rough don’t you?  Of course you do.  ‘Cause you’re Daddy’s needy little whore.”

“Yes, I’m close!” you yelped.

“Doesn’t matter, I’m not gonna let you come until you beg for it.  Seems like you need to remember that I’m the only one for you.”

“Just you, Daddy, I only want you!” you reassured, but he wasn’t buying it.

“I’d die before I let you get on your knees for another man, do you believe me babygirl?”

“Yes, I know Daddy, I’m yours, there’s nobody else.”

“If you wanna come you better start askin’ really nice,” he growled.

“Please, Daddy, I want you to make me come!  It feels so good, please…”

“Keep going.”

“You’re amazing, your cock feels amazing, I wanna come for you so bad--”

“Fuck, baby, beg me to use you.”

He knew you were flustered by that.

“I-- I don’t know how,” you protested.

“Oh come on, you’re dumb but you’re not that dumb,” he grinned.  “Just how I said it.”

“Use me,” you murmured in defeat, “please.”

“That’s it,” he praised, “just like that-- come for me, doll.”

You were so obedient, tightening around him and nearly screaming with pleasure the moment he commanded you to.  He wasn’t far behind, succumbing to the perfection of your wet heat and filling it with his climax.

“Fuck!” he groaned when he hit the peak of it, trying somehow to focus entirely on both the way you felt and the way you sounded.

Normally he cleaned you up after this but right now he wanted his come to leak out of you all night, make your thighs and the sheets sticky.  Apparently you had some sort of implant or something which kept you safe… he was trying not to count the days until it wore off.  He figured you would totally lose it if he told you that he wanted to get you pregnant, and yet, he was surprised that you hadn’t asked him about getting your implant replaced.

~

You knew that life was unpredictable and all that, but if never in a million years would you have expected for the Winter Soldier to be painting your nails.  But there he was, focused intently on each stroke of the tiny brush as he held your hand still.

“This’ll help you stop chewing your nails,” he gave as his excuse.  It was almost believable, except that he did your toes too.  Amazingly enough, you’d never chewed on those.

They were actually sort of pretty, if you were being honest.  You admired them a little, as they dried.  It wasn’t a perfect paint job by any means, but much better than you expected from Bucky and honestly, a bit better than you would’ve done it in all likelihood.  The baby pink color was a little nauseating as always, but it admittedly did look nice with your skin tone. 

“What do you say?” he prompted.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you smiled.  “It looks nice.”

“You’re welcome, angel.  I think so too.  We’ll take ‘em for a spin when they’re dry.”

You swallowed.  You had a pretty good idea of what that would entail.

Next was your hair.  Pigtails, the way he always did it.  You never quite understood what he liked so much about turning you into a girlier, more childish version of yourself, but you were finally embracing the things that you liked about being in this role.  He certainly pampered you, which was hard to complain about.  In your whole time here (you struggled to keep track but it must have been over a month now) you'd never cooked once.

After lunch he had you on your knees, looking up at him while you started to unzip his fly.  You found yourself salivating a little as you pulled his half-hard cock out of his boxers.

“Baby, your hands are so small…” he noticed reverently.  “Barely fit around it.”

“It’s not that they’re small, it’s that you’re so big,” you replied, more honest than you were used to being with him.

“You flatter me,” he grinned.  “Do it some more.”

You felt put on the spot, but feared disappointing him.  “Daddy, your cock is… so big,” you improvised, still stroking him as he got harder for you, “I can’t believe it fits inside me.”

“Hmm, it almost doesn’t,” he recalled.

“But it feels so good when-- when I get used to you and, um, your cock… stretches me…”

He groaned a little, and you moved your hand faster.

“Fills me up so good, Daddy,” you moaned, getting more into it than you had intended to.  “Your cock feels so fucking good, it’s like it’s made for me--”

He cut you off suddenly by pushing you back onto the mattress, hovering over you as a muscular hand wrapped around your throat.

“Got quite the mouth on ya, doll,” he growled.  “Do I need to wash it out with soap?” 

You shook your head; he wasn’t choking you hard enough to stop you from speaking entirely if you had really wanted to, but you were too stunned to say much.  His attitude could flip on a dime like this, and you could never see it coming.  The fear made your heart race; the anticipation made your thighs clench together.  

He smiled as he pulled back, letting go of your neck and reaching for his cock instead.  “I can tell you’re worked up.  Go ahead, touch yourself.”

You hesitated because typically that would be an infraction, but he nodded for you to continue as you nervously reached between your legs.   

You gasped softly when you touched your clit: it was swollen, and especially sensitive.  You hadn't realized how turned on you really were.  Slowly, you started to rub circles around it as your hips rocked with your movements.

"Does it feel good?" he asked, and when you looked up at him, he was stroking himself as well.  You nodded quickly.  "'M gonna come on that pretty face, little one.  Beg me for it."

"Daddy…" you murmured in shock, "I… want you to come on my face, please.  Wanna be covered in it."

"You're not a good liar," he grinned.  "I know you really want me to fuck you."

He wasn't wrong, so you nodded again and watched his hand speed up as it moved up and down his length.

"You poor thing," he cooed.  "I fuck you daily and you're so disappointed to be going without, to just be getting my come on your face like the dirty little whore you are."

His words stung but your hand was moving faster between your legs.

"You're getting close, aren't you?  Wait until I'm ready," he ordered.  You swallowed dryly but slowed down a little to buy yourself some time.  

He grunted a bit and you really hoped it was signalling an orgasm because you felt yours building unstoppably.  You didn't even think you could pull your hand away from yourself if he asked you to, you needed to come so bad.

"Fuck, open your mouth baby-- stick your tongue out," he commanded quickly, stepping forward until his cock was casting a shadow over your face.  "Oh god, just like that… ready baby?"

You nodded one more time and heard yourself panting loudly through your open mouth, your moans only interrupted by a wince as his come spurted forward and painted your face and exposed tongue in hot stripes.  Your orgasm hit just in time, embarrassingly spurred on by the degrading position you were in.  

When he was done-- which seemed to take forever because he came so much-- he started to catch his breath before slipping his softening cock onto your come-coated tongue and into your waiting mouth.

"Mm, you look so good like this," he praised, "I'm not sure I wanna let you wipe it off."

A flesh thumb moved down to your cheek and rubbed a stray drop of spend into your skin.  

"My perfect little cum dumpster, huh?" he said proudly, as if it was an award or achievement or something, and not a sick, insulting term.

Weird thing was, you felt proud of yourself, too.

~

He’d been working outside all day, chopping firewood in preparation for the upcoming winter.  Sure, the cabin had heating, but he had a lot of ideas about cuddling in front of the fire, or maybe making love beside it.  

Regardless, even super soldiers tire and must rest after working.  He decided to head inside and heat up something warm to stave off the cold.  You were still sleeping last he’d checked, exhausted from a long night-- yes, that kind of long night.  He almost felt guilty for putting your body through so much…  you were so delicate, sometimes he forgot you couldn’t always handle what he could.  However, you were stronger than you realized, and such a perfectly obedient little girl; he smiled at the memory of your skin under his fingertips, your fragile form writhing and whimpering beneath him as he’d taken you for hours.  As he daydreamed and began to enter the kitchen, he was torn from his imagination by a sound from your room.  At first he wondered if he’d misheard it, but when he heard you cry out again, he assumed you were hurt and nearly tripped over himself to run to you.  His heart was racing and he almost considered reaching for his sidearm-- there was no way someone could’ve broken in and tried to hurt you, right?

But as he flung open the door, instead he found you alone with your hand between your legs.  You jumped up when you saw him, but it was too late.

“The fuck are you doing?!” he exclaimed, climbing onto the bed and trapping you before you could crawl backwards away from him.

“I-- I was just--”

He cut you off with a quick slap to the face.  Not to hurt you, just to get you to focus on him.

“You know you can’t touch yourself without my permission.  Did you forget?”

“No…” you murmured ashamedly.

“If you knew it was wrong, why did you do it?”

“I… I just missed you…”

“Why didn’t you call me for help?  I can’t take care of you if you don’t ask.”

“I knew you were busy, I didn’t want to bother you--”

“Show me what you did,” he growled, watching you sheepishly spread your legs again to reveal your wet pussy and swollen clit.  “Oh doll, you really did a number on yourself.  Did you come without me?”

You looked away.

“Don’t bother lying.  Did you make yourself come with your fingers?”

“Yes…” 

You were hiding something.  He almost didn’t want to know the entire truth because it was breaking his heart to know you’d disobeyed so severely, but he had to know what happened if he was going to discipline you properly.

“Was it more than once?”

You shook your head and his blood went cold upon the realization that you were hiding something worse.

“What were you thinking about?” he asked you slowly.  He could hear your breathing quickened and he was sure he might die if you said what he was afraid of.  “Answer me.”

“I was thinking about… being fucked…”

“By who?” he asked.  You opened your mouth instantly but he cut you off.  “Don’t lie.”

You spoke but it was so weak that it wasn’t even a whisper.  “What was that?” he pressed.

“Sam,” you finally relented, “it was Sam.”

He was livid, but at least it wasn’t Steve.  

“Go stand beside the bed and kneel,” he commanded firmly.  You nodded weakly and slithered out from under him to do as he asked.  

He took a deep, slow breath hoping to calm himself a little.  He had heard that you shouldn’t punish little girls when you’re angry.  But he needed to nip this in the bud.

He got off the bed and approached you after a moment, running a finger under your chin and guiding you to look up at him.

“You understand you’ve been very naughty, don’t you?” he asked with a cold fury tinting his voice.

“Yes, Daddy,” you answered.  Clearly you were trying to be extra good and dutiful, hoping that strict adherence to the rules from here on out could save you some pain.  You weren’t wrong, but he wished that you would’ve had that attitude a little sooner.

“And if I don’t teach you a lesson, that would be unfair to both of us.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed and opened his belt and fly, pulling out his cock.  He sensed that you were compelled to lean forward and take it in your mouth, but you stayed still; you knew he would tell you exactly what he wanted you to do.

As he stroked his cock to full hardness, he glared at you so intensely that you couldn’t keep his gaze, looking up briefly but always glancing back down to the floor shamefully.  

“I-I’m sorry, Da-” you began weakly.

“You’ll speak when spoken to,” he interjected harshly.  Finally, he held your jaw with one hand, the other holding his cock forward as he plunged it between your lips.  He moaned a little when you swirled your tongue over it, doing your best to coat every inch of it in wetness.

As quickly as he had pushed in, he pulled out again.  He slapped his cock on your face, smearing your own spit on your cheek.  He rubbed his tip over your lips in a circle, but when you opened up your mouth for him, instead he leaned forward and spit into your open mouth.

“Swallow it,” he demanded through his teeth, and you did though it made you shudder with disgust.

Only then did he shove his cock in again, and with brutal force as well.  He used fistfuls of your hair to pull your face up and down on his cock, ignoring your whimpers of pain.

The room was filled with the sounds of your choking and coughing, until those extended periods of silence when his cock was shoved all the way into your throat and you couldn’t even get enough air for that.  It was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard in his life.

When he pulled you off of him to look at your face, he grinned proudly.  “Doll, you look like a fuckin’ mess.”  And it was true; spit and pre-cum dribbling down your chin and onto the floor, red nose and puffy eyes from crying… truly a sight to behold.

He gave you one more slap for good measure, the fist in your hair preventing your head from spinning to the side.  

“Gonna fuckin’ come in your throat.  You’d better swallow it all, bitch.”

He could feel your whole body jerk when he said it, and it only served to make your throat even tighter around him.  

“Fuck,” he groaned, “just like that, choke on me, fuck, oh god, fuck--”

He came with a stuttered moan and the sounds of protest you tried to make were lost as cum filled your throat and mouth.  

He smiled when you swallowed quickly, determined to obey.  He wasn’t even done coming yet and you were swallowing it.  Probably a good strategy; he had been pent up for a while now and he probably could’ve filled your tiny mouth until it was leaking.

When he was sure every drop of come had been spilled and swallowed, he pulled out and gave you some reprieve.  You gasped for air loudly, coughing a few times but mostly maintaining your composure like the good little slut you were.

He watched you shift your hip uncomfortably and realized you must be quite agitated yourself.

“If you want something from me, just ask,” he encouraged.  “That’s the whole point of this, isn’t it?”

“Please fuck me,” you whimpered.

He wagged his finger disapprovingly.  “I don’t know if you deserve it.”

“Please!” you yelped, and he yanked you off the floor and into his lap quickly.

“You get so dumb when you need me,” he growled into your ear.  “So desperate that you don’t know how to think about anything else but cock.  Isn’t that right?”

You nodded with a gasp.

“You’re my dumb little baby, aren’t you?  Say it," he hissed in demand.

“I’m your dumb little baby,” you repeated breathlessly.

“Get on your hands and knees and get that ass up.”

You obeyed quickly, almost eagerly, and he grinned at your obedience.  You really needed it bad, and he was helpless but to oblige you.  As soon as he was on his knees behind you and lining up with your sopping entrance, he was shoving his cock into you all at once.

You yelped at the brutality of the intrusion; he stayed still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your warmth, before pulling back out again.

“Wh-?” you began to protest in confusion, but he was a step ahead of you.

“That was just to get my cock wet, baby.”

One metal finger slipped into your puckered hole and you yelped.  “D-daddy, not there!”

“Shhh, just relax,” he soothed.

“It’s gonna hurt,” you whined.

“That’s sort of the idea,” he explained.  “I know what you can handle, doll.”

“And I can handle this?”

“I never said that.”

And with only one more finger and a few more minutes of hasty preparation, he was pushing his cock into your tighter hole.

“Shh,” he soothed when he felt you clench around him, but still pushing forward, indifferent to your hiss of pain.  

“It hurts!” you sobbed.

“I know baby, you’re just gonna have to take it.  This wouldn’t be happening if you had just asked me to help you.”

You pouted and it was equal parts adorable and pathetic.  “I’m sorry!”

“I’ll tell you when it’s time to apologize.  Right now you just need to be quiet.  Don’t you wanna be a good little girl?”

“Y-yes.”

He started to move his cock inside you and you shivered under him.  

“Please come,” you begged weakly after a few more minutes of thrusting.

“You wanna get it over with?  Don’t like it?”

You nodded and he did feel bad for you, but he knew it was what you needed.

“I’ll come when I’m ready, doll.  Just take Daddy’s cock, ‘s all you’re good for anyways, right angel?”

You nodded and bit back another sob, blissfully unaware of his adoring gaze; you looked so cute crying for his cock.  He liked being strong enough to hurt you almost as much as he liked being strong enough to protect you.

“My perfect little crybaby,” he cooed.  “Don’t whine too much or I’ll have to stuff that filthy mouth with a paci, alright?”

He watched you bite your lip and try to stay calm.  Out of pity, he moved a little slower than he wanted to, giving you some more time to adjust.  Eventually he felt you relaxing, though you still yelped a little when he pushed in all the way.  It was hard to choose between watching your face or watching his cock stretch open your hole.

“God, you’re takin’ me so well,” he praised.  “Who knew you were such a whore, huh?”

Before you could deny it, he reached down and swiped his fingers through your folds quickly, groaning when he felt how swollen and wet they were.  “Fuck, baby, you’re drenched.  You like getting fucked up the ass; such a dirty little slut.”

“Just for you, Daddy,” you informed him with a weak voice.  He was still angry with you, of course, but he was so proud of you, too.  He could remember all those times you’d tried to run or fight, now you were just laying there and taking it like a champ-- no restraints, no threats, just the desire to be good for him.  You were everything he’d ever dreamed you could be and more.

The thought spurred his orgasm ahead sooner than he expected, but he still wanted to hold back.  You needed more to learn your lesson, and he wanted to savor this feeling as long as possible.

His fingers had been digging into the supple flesh of your hips and ass, hard enough to bruise, but you felt too warm and too soft, so he gripped the sheets instead in his attempts to stave off his rupture.

But it wasn’t much longer until the tightness of you, the heat of you, the sweetness of your sobs all became too perfect to ignore.  His cock was aching for release, and if he denied himself much more, he figured his balls would never relax from their tightened state.

“I think you’re ready to apologize now,” he groaned.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy,” you sobbed.  “I swear, I’ll never touch myself without your permission again-- and I’ll never think about anybody but you!  I only want you, I swear!”

“You sure, baby?  You don’t think Sam would treat you better?” he mocked.  Sam definitely would be nicer to you, but there was no way he could treat you better than Bucky did.  Maybe you wanted a guy who was sweeter, more traditional, but this was what you needed and only your Daddy could give that to you.

“I’m sure!  I only want you, please!  Please, please come.”

“Is that what you want, angel?  Want me to come in your tight little ass?”

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Please…?”

“Please, Daddy.”

And he came, though it was a little more physically taxing since it was the second of the night.  You whimpered a little but he could tell you were relieved it was over.

You didn’t put up any fight at bath time that night, just curled into his arms and let him wash you as you whispered more apologies.  

“Shh, it’s alright,” he soothed as he washed your hair, whispering right against your ear before giving it a little kiss.  “You did good, baby.  You made a mistake but you’re gonna learn from it and we’re gonna be better than ever.  You took your punishment so well, darling, you should be proud.”

~

Today you'd woken up to an empty house, with a note on the kitchen table:

Gone for groceries, I'll be back in the afternoon.  When I get home, greet me at the door wearing what I've laid out for you in your closet.

You figured it wasn't going to be something conservative by any means, but you were still taken aback by finding a tail, collar, and cat-ear headband.  The collar was pink leather with a tiny bell and a little heart-shaped steel tag with your name on it.  The realization that he had this custom-made sent a shiver down your back.  On the back of the tag was another engraving:

IF LOST RETURN TO BUCKY BARNES

You were a little concerned about wearing only a collar, ears and tail… especially when you realized how the tail was intended to be worn.

Still, you had become thoroughly obedient, and you trusted that this would make him happy which was all you could hope for.  You fought past your hesitation and changed out of your pajamas into the outfit (if it could even be called that when it contained no actual clothing).

He had the biggest grin on his face when he opened the door to find you on your knees just outside the entryway.

“Oh look at you, kitten,” he beamed.

Being naked on the floor was cold and awkward.  You crossed your arms to cover your chest, frowning as you tried to avoid his penetrating gaze.  “This is stupid.  I feel stupid.”

“You are stupid," he smiled.  "But you look great!  Now behave or you’ll have to eat out of a bowl on the floor until you’ve learned to love being Daddy’s pet.”

Your eyes went wide.

“You’re gonna behave, right?”

“Y-yes, Daddy.”

He smiled and curled his finger, motioning for you to come closer.  You awkwardly crawled towards him on your hands and knees, biting your lip absent-mindedly.  When you were on the floor in front of his legs, he knelt down a bit and grabbed a handful of your ass.  It made the plug inside you shift and you whimpered.

“Mm, this tail looks lovely on you,” he praised.  “And the ears… you’re a natural.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” you shyly accepted the compliment.

"I bet you got wet putting this on, huh?" he presumed.  You nodded as he moved to rub two fingers through your folds, proving himself right.

When he leaned back and pulled his cock from his jeans, you were surprised at how hard it already was.  Clearly the kitten thing was working for him.

"Go ahead kitty, I know you want a taste," he encouraged.

You leaned forward and gave, fittingly, small kitten licks to the tip of his cock and he groaned.  “Just like that, fuck.”

You hummed when you tasted his pre-cum on your tongue.  You’d gotten so accustomed to it that you actually enjoyed the flavor now.

Hesitantly, you wrapped your lips around the head and suckled on it gently.  Apparently, he didn’t care much for the slow-but-steady method; he slipped two fingers under your collar and used it to pull you down further until you choked.  

He continued to guide you forward and back, moaning every time your throat accepted the leaking head of his cock.

“You don’t want me to come in your mouth, do you?” he asked with a grunt.

You shook your head.  

He grinned knowingly, pushing you back until your mouth was empty and free to respond.  “Where do you want it?” 

“In my pussy.”

“Full sentences only, please.”

“I want you to come in my pussy, Daddy, please.”

“Hmm, you did ask very nicely,” he smiled.  “But I have something else to do first.  Go get on the couch, kitten, hands and knees.”

You almost stood up but realized he wanted you to crawl again.  As soon as you’d done it, he was behind you, humming contentedly as he ran his rough hands over your skin.  You mewled when he started to kiss along your back, down your ass and between your thighs until he was licking long stripes through your folds.  Both of you moaned when he sucked your clit into his mouth, even allowing it to graze against his teeth which nearly hurt but made you gush with wetness anyways.

"Please-- I'm close, Daddy, can I come?" you whimpered.

"Go ahead," he mumbled before returning to his work, knowing exactly how to use his tongue to take you apart in mere minutes.  Your hands grabbed desperately at the back of the couch for stability as your legs began to quiver with the force of your orgasm.  You yelped and bit down on your lip as it crashed over you; sometimes when he ate you out, he wouldn't stop after you'd came and keep going until you were begging for mercy, but he was apparently feeling generous today and stopped once you'd finished.

That, of course, did not mean he was finished with you.

He pushed his jeans down to his thighs and laid back onto the mattress, cock so hard that it was pressing into his abs.

“Come on kitten, ride me,” he grinned, motioning for you to climb on top of him.  The moment you did he was rubbing his cock against you, pushing it upwards for you to sink down onto it.  You moaned as it stretched you open, and when your hips met his, the tip of it brushed against the deepest places inside you.  You yelped and tried to move back up but he suddenly grabbed your legs and held you down.

“Nuh-uh, kitten, no running away.  You’re gonna take all of me.”

“It’s too deep,” you protested weakly, even though you felt your walls throbbing with pleasure.

“Not at all, angel; you’re made for me, so you fit me perfectly,” he explained.  “If I let you go, you’re gonna ride me properly, take my whole cock, right?”

You nodded and he eased up his grip.  You felt your legs shaking as little as you pushed yourself up only to drop back down, wincing as he filled you so completely once again.  You repeated the movement over and over, picking up pace and moaning every time.  You could feel his cock moving the plug inside your ass, and each bounce on top of him made your collar jingle a little.

You did your best to keep up the pace, but to lift yourself required use of a muscle that you clearly hadn't been getting much exercise for; it wasn't more than a few minutes before you were faltering, your moans of pleasure accented with the struggling groans of exhaustion.

"Oh kitty, are you too weak?  Too wimpy and small to ride my cock?  Baby… that's pathetic," he moped.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," you pouted.  "I'm just tired…"

"Just a little longer, kitten, just ride my cock a little more then I'll help you out, okay?  I know you can do it.  I know you can be a good girl."

You hoped he was right.  You nodded weakly as he looked at you expectantly, before slowly beginning to move again in spite of your sore thighs.

Soon, as he'd promised, he pulled you down and wrapped his arms around you, thrusting up into you.  Your moans echoed against his skin when your face was shoved into the crook of his neck.  When his cock slammed into your most sensitive spot, you bit him there as a way to stifle yourself and he slapped your ass.

“Only bad kittens bite, doll.  I thought you were going to be a good kitten for me?”

“Feels so good,” you tried to explain though it came out slurred, “please don’t stop.”

“I’m not gonna stop, baby.  Not gonna stop until that pussy is full of my come.  That what you want?”

“Yes,” you pleaded, “oh god, yes, please…”

He moaned loudly as his thrusts lost all rhythm, his cock moving so fast inside you that the sensation became one hot blur against your walls.  Finally, as he groaned and gripped you tight enough to bruise, he spilled inside you. 

As he let out a long breath and his body relaxed under you, he smiled softly.  "You really are perfect, pet."

"C-can I take off the ears now?  And the tail?"

"Hmm, not yet," he grinned, "we need to take a few pictures of you like this first."

~

He was working in the kitchen when he heard your footsteps approaching.

"Don't come in here!" he ordered you.  "Wait for me at the dining table."

"Why, Daddy?" he heard you respond from the hall.  He smiled just to hear your sweet voice.

"It's a surprise, babydoll," he explained.  "It's almost ready-- just wait, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy," you answered dutifully, your footsteps moving to the dining area as he'd requested.

Stepping back and admiring his work, he lifted it and turned out the door to deliver your surprise: a cake, with pink frosting and one pink candle.

Your eyes lit up when you saw him holding the cake stand, being careful not to tilt it or get the flame of the candle near his long hair.

He smiled and set it in front of you, looking to your face for a reaction.  Suddenly he felt self-conscious about it, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.   "Um, I made it myself.  Sorry if the decorating isn't that nice…"

"It's beautiful, Daddy, and I bet it'll taste great, too," you beamed.  "What's the occasion?"

"It's our anniversary," he replied, his voice suddenly low and dark.

He saw recognition cross your face, though you looked confused as well.  The meds he'd given you throughout the year had disrupted your memories, and probably distorted your perception of the passage of time as well, but it was all necessary to get you compliant.  He hoped reminding you of that somewhat violent first day wouldn't set back any of your progress.

"I've… been here a year?" you asked weakly.

"We've been here a year," he corrected, sitting down beside you and wrapping an arm around you, "but that's not what we're celebrating."

The hand on your shoulder slipped down to the underside of your arm, stroking it slowly.

"We're celebrating that a medication somebody gave you a long time ago, before we were together, is finally worn off," he explained slowly, a grin creeping across his face. "We're celebrating that the next time I come inside you, I'm gonna get you pregnant."

He didn't fuck you for three days after that, loving the way you were clearly on edge as you waited for him to make good on his promise.  And he didn't blame you for being nervous about it, even if you seemed to understand that any protest from you would fall on deaf ears.

So, he was quite taken aback when you came onto him one night, bedtime cuddling quickly turning into something more as you rubbed your ass against his crotch.  He hadn't even realized that you would want it all on your own.

God, you were so fucking perfect he couldn't stand it.

"What are you doing, angel?" he asked you with a growl as he grabbed your hips and forced them to still.

"Nothing, Daddy," you answered coyly.  He grinned and nipped at your earlobe.

"Are you horny, babygirl?  Because you're acting like a whore."

You nodded and gasped, shivering under his touch.

"Want Daddy's cock inside you?" he pressed, voice getting darker.

"Yes, please!" you begged.

He sat up and flipped you onto your back, caging you in with his arms as he hovered above you.

“You wanna have my baby?” he asked in a husky whisper.

“Yes,” you nodded your head quickly.

“Want me to knock you up, doll?  Right now?”

“Please,” you whimpered.

He leaned down, almost close enough to kiss you, as his gaze wandered over your face  “I don’t want it to be like the other times.  None of the crazy shit, nothing rough.  If I’m gonna get you pregnant--”

“Whatever you want,” you pleaded.

He kissed you suddenly, deep and slow.  “I love you,” he told you quickly as he pulled back, breathless but confident.  

“I love you too,” you answered without even questioning it.

He was gentle, and thorough, and patient.  It was love-making in a way that was out of character for him.  He lifted your legs to wrap around his hips, pushing into you as deep as he could but with a contemplative slowness; he cradled your face in his hands and kissed all over it as he praised you in whispers.

My pretty girl, my perfect little girl, gonna fill you up, gonna make you mine.

You were only moans and sobs, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.  

The first time you came was unexpected, building slowly but crashing into you all at once, judging by the way you went from softly whimpering to nearly screaming in seconds.  The second was quieter, more subtle, but he could tell by the way your walls tightened around him.  The third left you in tears, beyond overstimulated and broken down into a babbling mess.

“Please,” you cried, “please I need you to come-- come inside me.”

He struggled to resist that offer, but he didn't want it to be over too quickly.

“Soon,” he promised, “I’m close.  You feel so good.”

You wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him close for a kiss but stopping as his mouth brushed against yours.

“Please, Bucky… please come…” you whispered.

He moaned, his thrusts getting a little more erratic.

“Need it so bad,” you whimpered, “need you to put your baby in me--”

“Fuck,” he hissed, “‘m gonna, promise.”

“Now,” you demanded through your teeth, “I need it now.”

“Not until you come one more time,” he responded.  You whined and he knew you were questioning whether it was possible.  “I know you can, just gimme one more.”

His angle shifted and he stayed deep within you, grinding his hips on yours just the right way to rub your clit with his pubic bone.  Your back arched but he held you close, barraging you with the sensation and pressing his forehead to yours.

Your hands gripped his shoulders for dear life, as if you were afraid to fall.  He smiled and kissed your neck, feeling your walls flutter around him once again.

“That’s it,” he praised, “I know you’re close.  Just let go.  I’ve got you.”

Tears streamed down your face as it tore through you, hitting you so hard that instead of moans it was just silence.  He watched your face intently, breathing through his teeth as he summoned all his willpower to hold on just a little longer.  

"Daddy!" you yelped, and he couldn't take any more: with a high-pitched, stuttered moan, he felt his cock flexed as he came harder than maybe he ever had before.  Knowing that you were fertile made it all so much more intense.  Normally, his orgasm just meant the end of sex-- maybe just for a few minutes on a good day.  But now?  Now it was the beginning of something.  His perfect little angel was going to finally fulfill her final purpose and give him a baby.  He'd waited so long, dreamed of it every day for years, and finally it was going to happen.  

He refused to pull out or let you move until he was sure it would take; he killed the time by kissing every part of your face and neck that he could reach.

He hadn't even gotten you pregnant yet, technically, and he already couldn't wait for more children.  He'd always wanted to have a big family, but he gave up on that dream years ago; meeting you had brought it all back, and made him realize that all this time he'd just been waiting for the perfect wife to start it with.

You were well worth the wait.

[britishassistant]

hi it's-a me again, lol i wonder how the rest of the cast would react to yuu accidentally kissing malleus, that live broadcasted on TV, hahaha i keep thinking leona now has motivation to do something, and that's murdering malleus while riddle straight up passed out from screaming from anger, azul would seem like the horrified clutching pearls look person, idk about the others though

@mister-jedblack said: After reading the accidental kiss, what’s the other villain’s reaction gonna be like when they see their favorite reporter and Malleus kissing. Lmao 😂

Heartslaybul

Riddle was enjoying his lemon tea when Cater barges into the room, phone open on a news streaming app and wild-eyed. Trey can’t even ask what’s wrong before Cater’s shoving the phone in their faces and pressing play on the paused video. Ace chokes on slightly hysterical, disbelieving laughter, while Deuce just straight up chokes at the sight of the lip lock. Trey freezes, almost dropping the teapot, then darts a worried glance at Riddle as the phone trembles in Cater’s nervous grip.

Riddle just stares, wide-eyed, at the display. He lets out a quiet wheezing noise that gradually escalates in volume until he’s red-faced and screaming in fury at the phone and the sound of the Diasomnia villains cheering on the accidental kiss. He runs out of air very soon after that, and Trey needs to catch him so he doesn’t hurt himself when he blacks out temporarily.

Savannahclaw

Leona was enjoying a peaceful nap when he was rudely awakened by the sound of Ruggie’s shocked yelp and Jack’s startled whining. He could roll over and go back to sleep, but those kinds of noises usually mean someone troublesome has invaded the lair again, so he stomps out to see what all the fuss is about. He’s immediately suspicious when Jack leaps up and tries to block his line of sight to the computer, while Ruggie tries to convince him to just go back to his nap, nothing to see here—

He glimpses what’s on the screen and hears what the lizard’s loser followers are screeching. Leona promptly turns the monitor to sand. His tail is lashing hard and his growls are sounding more like roars. Then Ruggie has to try and hold Leona back from immediately rallying his minions to go lay siege to the Diasomnia lair until Malleus is driven out of town entirely. It’s only once Jack asks him how they’re going to carry out that goal that Leona even begins to calm down a little bit to begin to planning his ultimate revenge.

Octavinelle

Azul and Jade are watching the financial news when a breaking news update flashes across the screen. Floyd even stops trying to poke Azul in the cheek with his foot as the video begins to play, scoffing at the sight of the dumb RSA hero all but chasing Shrimpy, right up until they trip—!

Azul lets out a scandalized shriek, jumping to his feet and pointing at the screen in speechless indignation, stuttering half-formed words as he repeatedly jabs at the screen in outrage while looking frantically between Jade and Floyd as if to confirm that the image displayed is real. Floyd would laugh at his behavior, but the sight has put him in a bad mood and he wants to go squeeze something. Jade has to restrain his brother from going after an innocent the wrong target in his strop.

Scarabia

Jamil was in the middle of cooking Kalim’s dinner while Kalim lazed around the kitchen with him, stealing morsels and flicking through the channels on the obscenely huge TV in the corner. Jamil’s just taking a drink of water while the sauce simmers when Kalim happily calls out at the sight of Yuu on the flatscreen. He looks up just in time to see the reporter trip and fall. Jamil inhales sharply mid-drink and ends up snorting the liquid through his nose. At least his coughing and desperate search for a tissue means that he can’t keep looking at that horrible image.

Jamil keeps his eyes resolutely off the screen, pretending he doesn’t feel the pit in his stomach, doesn’t care even as the wolf whistles and cheers emanate from the screen. Kalim is protesting mightily, looking up at the supervillain with big dismayed eyes and asking Jamil what they’re gonna do?? He doesn’t want Malleus to take Yuu away, so they’ve gotta do something, right?? Jamil’s smart, Jamil’s dedicated, Jamil’s the best villain he knows, so Jamil can fix this, Kalim knows he can! That at least does bolster Jamil’s rapidly falling confidence somewhat to begin plotting the best response to this...setback.

Pomefiore

Vil was busy showing Epel how best to make himself up according the Pomefiore henchmen standards when Rook pranced into the room, holding a laptop and loudly singing the praises of “public expressions of pure and innocent amour”. When Vil tells him to just spit it out, Rook sets down the laptop and presses play on the recently uploaded video that’s trending on Magicam with an unreadable expression his eyes. Epel senses danger and tries to tell Rook to stop before the words freeze in his throat at the sight.

The bottle of lip gloss shatters in Vil’s grip, dripping gloss all over his hands and the outfit Epel was supposed to be modeling, staining it beyond repair. It’s only at Epel’s cry of alarm that he notices what he’s done. Vil’s calm, stern facade doesn’t change as he brushes off the shards of plastic and orders Epel to go get changed while he tries to clean himself up and control the urge to go after Malleus half-cocked with his specially sharpened stilettos.

Ignihyde

Idia has all of Yuu’s appearances on TV queued up to play automatically on a monitor beside him while he games or tinkers with his latest evil invention. He’s on a particularly hard boss, so he barely registers anything out of the ordinary happening, until there’s a sudden roar of noise from the monitor. He looks up in time to see Malleus and Yuu disconnect, and the boss oneshots his character in his moment of bug-eyed distraction.

Ortho comes in to the room to find Idia’s controller smashed through the monitor screen and Idia curled up under the covers in bed, muttering darkly to himself about stupid dense oujodere op characters, pretending to be innocent to lure the capture target close enough to violate them. It takes him a while to cheer up his big brother again and convince him that that kiss meant as little as the one between Haruhi Fujioka and that one girl in OHSHC.