#{(this was a disaster from bottom and less to top)}

[gyusimp]

𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨 [𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭]

ᴹⁱⁿᵒʳˢ ᴰᴺᴵ! | ᔆᵐᵘᵗ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ | ᴬʳᵗ ᵇʸ⠘ ˢʰᵃᵈᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᴸᴼⱽᴱ ᵒⁿ ᵀʷⁱᵗᵗᵉʳ

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Kenji will always be very sweet. No matter how stupid he made you after sex, he will treat you gently and help you get back on your feet. He will clean you up first and then himself and he will be happy to take a shower together if you are okay with it. Although he is a bit of a fussy person so it is 100% certain that he will not go to sleep without changing the sheets for new ones. For your comfort and his, and he might put some air freshener in the air lol.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I feel like Kenji is very proud of his entire body, but especially his arms and torso. Have you seen that broad back? That man is to die for and he knows it, that's why he loves sleeping shirtless and teasing you. As for you, he loves everything about you, but he definitely has a fixation on your thighs and touching your ass whenever he gets the chance.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He's open to possibilities as long as you are too. Besides cumming inside you, he likes to do it for some reason where a few drops get on your strands of hair or a few drops run down your collarbones. He has a habit of teasing you by kissing you after taste you, so you'll taste yourself on his lips.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He's fantasized about doing things with you in his Ultraman form, why? Because yes. It's really nothing more than a fantasy because not even his pinky finger could fit inside you, but imagining you so small and needy in the palm of his hand has made his thoughts go beyond the limits he thought he knew.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Nothing. Kenji has no prior experience, not even a little. As famous and handsome as he is, we know that he suffered from bullying in his childhood years which affected his social skills so if I can't imagine him with friends, much less having encounters of that kind. His first time with you was an adorable disaster but you took care of making him feel safe always and over time he managed to improve his technique quite a bit.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any one where he can see your face but is also addicted to you riding him or if he's too needy he'll let you on top and spread his legs for you to do whatever you want.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It depends on his mood. He usually acts normal but if he wants to tease you or is really excited he might tell a couple of dirty jokes to make you blush.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

This man is a total grooming person. I can see a shelf in his shower full of hair products, aftershave, skin moisturizers and all that stuff so yes, Kenji pays attention to detail and if he isn't completely shaved there will always be a neat, impeccable trim. You're never going to see a mess down there. Ever.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

There are times when you two are too horny to get romantic but that doesn't mean it's just sex without love. But, when he's truly focused on making love to you in every sense of the word, he's the most romantic man in the world. He makes you feel like you're on cloud nine with his soft caresses and kisses, his words are so deep that when you both finish, you end up seeing everything in rose-colored glasses and even loving your insecurities after he completely praised you from the bottom of his heart.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I don't see Kenji doing this kind of thing, he's a mature adult and quite busy too so if he ever did it, it was in puberty out of pure curiosity. Now he has you so if he's horny he knows you can always help him and if he's lonely he'll just get moody.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I think after taking care of Emi and researching parenting and fatherhood issues he had some praise kinks left, but nothing serious. He doesn't show it anywhere other than the bed and you discovered it little by little on your own when he told you things like how he was eager to fill you with his seed and how excited it made him to think of you carrying his baby in you one day. Whenever you bring it up he doesn't completely deny it but it's because he's a little embarrassed to admit it.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Nothing like the comfort of his bed or yours but he's open to new places to make it more exciting. Places like his basement or the stadium locker room when the team has left have been the perfect spots for a quickie.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He likes you touching him, your hands are his weakness. Also for some reason when you are dressed up nicely, like clothes he is not used to seeing you in for example a skirt and heels to go to work or a nice dress for an event. He always thinks "is that my girlfriend?" and feels the need to rip your clothes off already.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He doesn't agree with the idea of hurting you so he's against BSDM. If you were to ask him to do something related (like asking him to hit you or call you names) he would try to do it at first to fulfill your whim but after a while he would feel uncomfortable and maybe not want to continue. Maybe what he would tolerate a little longer would be to call you names just by seeing your intense reactions and they would be mild words like "slut" or "bitch".

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

As I mentioned before, he is inexperienced in person until after a couple of times. He likes to receive but he prefers thousands of times to give. The feeling of your folds against his tongue and your pussy between his lips is indescribable for him. He loves to grab you by the thighs and wrap his arms around your legs while he gets lost between your crotch for hours being blessed with the sound of your voice before his actions.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It will also depend on his mood. A happy, romantic, sweet Kenji who longs to spend time with you after a long week at work will be deep and slow but careful. But a Kenji who is stressed out from losing so many games, fighting with players from other teams and tired of being a baby kaiju's single mother and breaking his back being Ultraman will throw you on the mat face down and grab onto your hips to pound you like there’s no tomorrow and then flip you over to put your knees on his shoulders because you’re dumb enough to do it on your own (of course you’re okay with all of this).

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He is a fan of quickies, he couldn't live without them. He tends to have mental breakdowns more often than you think and between so many games, interviews and training sessions he sometimes comes home too tired to do it slowly and formally, so you can also offer him several quickies a week so that they are little breaks for him and he can de-stress and continue.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He has a slight interest in doing it where he can get caught, like the time where his hands got too far with you in the stadium locker room before a game and his teammates were feet away getting ready in the hallway outside.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He is a professional athlete who is used to hours of training, cardio and all that stuff. His average is 3-4 rounds when he feels mentally stable and physically rested. You usually ends up with pain in your lower back and the back of your knees.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't have any toys and he wouldn't use them on himself. If he ever bought one it would be to use it with you so you could both experience something new together.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He likes to embarrass you but in a good way. Maybe he'll mention things about how desperate you are or how abundant your release was today with just a few touches. This man's ego is big and it expands to the sky when he can see you under him sweaty and moaning his name repeatedly so it's the perfect setting for him to joke around in more egotistical and arrogant ways with you to make you blush.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

If you're in a completely safe and alone place, Kenji will never shut his mouth. He's unconsciously very expressive in that aspect and will say whatever he wants and needs to say, even if something bothers him. His tone of voice is thicker and more desperate as if he's throwing little tantrums asking for more from you. Sometimes it confuses you when he claims that you're too tight around him. Is he complaining or is he grateful for it?

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He loves to make dirty calls with you when you are at home and he is away from you. He feels very proud of himself knowing the power he has over you and how he manages to make you wet even when he is not present, calling you with some dirty nicknames that he saves just for you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He's not too far from average. When the baby is asleep he's pretty normal sized although still noticeable in tight jeans or his Ultraman form. But when the baby wants action he's maybe an inch or an inch and a half taller than average. Kenji is a tall, thin young man so his strengths would be more length than girth.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

In the middle, not too low or too desperate. Although sometimes his thoughts are the ones to blame for making him feel horny and that's when he asks you for help to solve it, but on a scale of 1-10 I'd leave it at 7. He knows when it's more prudent to let himself go and when not to.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He won't fall asleep until you do unless he's had a bad day and all he wants to do is sleep in your arms right after he's cum. If he's tired enough to sleep on the same sheets you two made out with earlier.

[pluckyredhead]

The past few days I've been thinking a lot about the General Slocum disaster.

It's a mostly forgotten story now, but the General Slocum was a passenger steamboat that was used for excursion trips around New York during the turn of the 20th century. In 1904 it caught on fire and sank in the East River, and over a thousand people died (there were less than 1400 aboard to begin with). Most of them were women and children. They were on a church-sponsored picnic outing.

From top to bottom, the story of the General Slocum is about corporate greed, and corruption, and incompetence:

The fire was probably started by a match or cigarette (!) in the Lamp Room, which was full of straw, oily rags, and lamp oil (!).

A child told the captain that the ship was on fire, but the captain ignored him. The crew didn't properly inform the captain of the fire until ten minutes later.

The captain inexplicably made for North Brother Island, even though other islands were closer. Steering directly into headwinds spread the fire faster.

The crew hadn't practiced a fire drill in the past year.

None of the safety equipment on the ship worked, because the steamboat company found it cheaper to pay off safety inspectors than to keep their ships up to code.

There was a hose on board, but it was so old and rotten that it burst when the crew tried to hook it up. The crew then gave up trying to put out the fire or help anyone and abandoned ship.

The lifeboats were wired to the deck, and the wires had then been painted over, rather than removing the lifeboats each time the ship got a fresh coat of paint, so it they were impossible to lower.

The life preservers were filled with cork. They were supposed to weigh a certain amount, so the manufacturer had put lead bars in some of them to make weight.

Others were so old that the cork inside had disintegrated into powder. Solid cork floats. Powdered cork sinks.

That meant that some of the mothers who survived described putting life preservers on their babies and throwing them into the river to escape the flames, and watching them sink.

Very few people could swim at the time, and everyone was wearing the heavy wool clothing of the period. Hundreds of people drowned.

The disaster decimated the immigrant community of Little Germany on the Lower East Side, where most of the deceased were from. Fathers who hadn't been able to attend the picnic because they were working got home to find their wives and children were all dead. Dozens of bodies were either never found, or found but never identified.

Though multiple safety inspectors and employees of the steamboat company were indicted, only the captain - who very much became the scapegoat for the whole thing - was convicted. The steamboat company paid a nominal fine. The one silver lining was that state and federal safety regulations were strengthened in the aftermath.

Like I said at the beginning, this story is mostly forgotten. A lot of historians credit that to the Titanic upstaging it just a few years later. Adella Wotherspoon, who survived the General Slocum as a baby and lived until 2004 (!), said she knew why: "The Slocum people were very poor or middle class. They were often German immigrants. The Titanic and other ships had celebrities."

I don't really have a moral to this story, except that safety regulations matter, ships full of immigrants are just as important as ships full of rich people, and humans have pretty much always been the same, as far as I can tell.

(If you want to know more, I highly recommend Ship Ablaze: The Tragedy of the Steamboat General Slocum by Edward T. O'Donnell, the excellent Wikipedia page, and the Bowery Boys podcast episode on the disaster.)

[simply-ivanka]

Kamala Harris’s ‘Joyful’ War on Entrepreneurs

When Democrats talk about boosting the middle class, what they mean is government employees.

By Allysia Finley Wall Street Journal

Americans who tuned in to Kamala Harris’s coronation last week heard from plenty of celebrities, labor leaders and politicians. Missing from the “joyous” celebration, however, were entrepreneurs who generate middle-class jobs.

No surprise. Cheered on by the crowd, Democrats took turns whacking “oligarchs” and “corporate monopolists.” By the time Ms. Harris took the stage, the pinatas’ pickings had been splattered around. This is what Democrats plan to do if they win: destroy wealth creators so they can spread the booty among their own.

Corporate greed is “the one true enemy,” United Auto Workers President Shawn Fain proclaimed. Vermont Sen. Bernie Sanders insisted the party “must take on Big Pharma, Big Oil, Big Ag, Big Tech, and all the other corporate monopolists whose greed is denying progress for working people.” Pennsylvania Sen. Bob Casey railed against “greedflation” and accused corporations of “extorting families.”

Barack Obama lambasted Donald Trump and his “well-heeled donors.” “For them, one group’s gains is necessarily another group’s loss,” Mr. Obama said. “For them, freedom means that the powerful can do pretty much what they please, whether it’s fire workers trying to organize a union or put poison in our rivers or avoid paying taxes like everybody else has to do.”

Democrats treat wealth as a zero-sum game, and so Mr. Obama’s straw men are rich. They get richer by making everyone else poorer—and taking away from the well-off is the only way to enhance the lives of the poor and middle class. Hence, the left’s plans to raise taxes on “billionaires” and businesses to finance more welfare.

It isn’t enough that the top 1% of earners already pay 45.8% of federal income tax, which funds government services and welfare for the bottom half. As for poisoning rivers, perhaps Mr. Obama forgot that his own Environmental Protection Agency caused the 2015 Gold King Mine disaster, which spilled toxic waste into Colorado’s Animas River.

Quoting Abraham Lincoln, the former president invoked “the better angels of our nature” even as he appealed to America’s darker angels. His speech brought to mind a recent homily by my local parish priest about the dangers of class warfare and envy, one of the seven deadly sins.

Success, the priest explained, isn’t a zero-sum game. When a businessman succeeds, he creates jobs that help the poor. Envying and tearing down the successful makes everyone poorer. Rather than plunder the wealthy, society should celebrate success and try to help everyone prosper.

Democrats derisively refer to such ideas as “trickle-down economics.” They denounce and diminish business success, and claim the wealthy have profited from greed and government support. Who can forget Mr. Obama’s line in 2012 that “if you’ve got a business, you didn’t build that”?

Rather than try to make it easier for businesses to succeed—say, by reducing taxes or easing regulations—Democrats want to do the opposite. They call for “leveling the playing field” and “growing the middle class out,” euphemisms for taxing success so government can hand out money. But government doesn’t create wealth. People do.

While business success isn’t zero-sum, government growth can be. Its expansion makes it more difficult for business to thrive. The result is fewer jobs, lower wages and less tax revenue, which finances essential public services such as law enforcement and the “safety net” for the indigent.

Mr. Trump’s appeal in 2016 partly stemmed from slow economic growth during Mr. Obama’s presidency. The Republican promised to make all Americans richer by liberating businesses from government’s shackles. Mr. Trump’s deregulation and tax cuts worked: Average real wages increased nearly 70% faster during his first three years than during Mr. Obama’s presidency.

Yet most Americans have become poorer under Mr. Biden, as government spending has fueled inflation, which has eroded wages. Job growth has become increasingly concentrated in sectors that depend on government spending. When Democrats talk about boosting the middle class, they mean the class of government workers.

Government, education, healthcare and social assistance account for more than 60% of the new jobs added in the last year. In the 17 states where Democrats boast a “trifecta”—control of the governorship and both legislative chambers—the share is 98%. In the 23 states with Republican trifectas, it’s 47%.

Likewise, average wage growth since the start of the pandemic has been lower in high-tax states such as Illinois (13.6%), New York (14.4%) and California (17.2%) than in low-tax Florida (22.5%), Texas (23.3%) and South Dakota (26.9%). If middle-class Americans want to get richer, they ought to move to Miami, Dallas or Sioux Falls.

��As long as we look to legislation to cure poverty, or to abolish special privilege,” Henry Ford once observed, “we are going to see poverty spread and special privilege grow.” That’s the joyous future Americans can expect during a Harris presidency.

Appeared in the August 26, 2024, print edition as 'Kamala Harris’s ‘Joyful’ War on Entrepreneurs'.

[waytooinvested]

Fic: Small Problem...

A silly little story inspired by this adorable art by @art-by-ilaa19

.............

There was a low, sonorous BOOM, and before she had quite caught up with the fact that anything had gone wrong, Lena found herself sailing through the air as a blast ripped through the Tower. She braced herself for a painful impact, but by incredible good fortune the force threw her directly at the couch, where she landed with a small ‘oomph’ as the wind was knocked out of her.

She lay still for a couple of seconds, struggling to draw breath into her lungs, then fought her way free of the collapsed cushions to make sure her friends were safe and take stock of the damage.

As shocking as it was to be suddenly thrown several feet, the incident actually seemed to have been pretty minor – more a pulse of energy than an actual explosion, really, though it had apparently been enough to knock everyone off their feet.

Kelly and Alex were kneeling beside the bookcase they had hit comforting a crying Esme, though thankfully the little girl seemed to be more startled than actually hurt, having been caught and buffered from the falling books by her moms.

Nia had ended up on top of Brainy on the floor, but from the way they were now staring into each other’s eyes, Lena deduced that they were no worse for wear, and glanced away quickly before she started to feel like an intruder on the moment they were so clearly having.

J’onn was bemusedly brushing soil and flower petals out of his hair after a collision with a pot plant, but the plant had decidedly come off the worst and he seemed to be more or less fine, even with the fetching addition of a Michaelmas daisy tucked rakishly behind one ear.

And Kara was-

Not there.

Given her powers the girl of steel should have been barely ruffled by a force that hadn’t even blown out the windows, and yet one minute she had been standing by the work bench, and now she was… nowhere.

‘Kara?’ Lena stood up gingerly from her place on the couch and looked around, anxiety beginning to stir in her belly.

‘Did anyone see what happened to Kara?’

Distracted from their own minor disasters, everyone turned to look at her, then to glance around the room as if Kara might be simply hiding behind something.

‘You two were cosied up together over something before the blast hit. Didn’t you see where she went?’

Alex’s question would once have made Lena’s hackles rise, but she understood now that it was concerned, not accusatory, and she just shook her head, worry sinking its claws ever deeper with every second Kara failed to reappear.

‘Uuuuh… guys? Wherever Kara is, I think she left her clothes behind’.

Nia had finally managed to disentangle herself from Brainy, and was pointing at the heap of cloth that as yet had gone unnoticed beside the workbench.

‘Oh, that can’t be good…’

Without quite knowing how she had got there, Lena found herself kneeling over the crumpled supersuit, lifting it carefully as if Kara might somehow still be hiding inside it. The fabric was warm from her skin, and Lena had to resist to urge to bury her face in it to hide her tears. It felt like they had only just got Kara back from the phantom zone, and now she was just gone again? So suddenly, and without any warning that she had even been in danger.

‘Hello? Can anyone hear me?’

Lena froze.

The voice sounded muffled and very far away, but she had heard it. She was almost certain.

‘Kara? Is that you? Where are you?’

‘Lena? Thank Rao! I’m not sure, I’m trapped somewhere. Some kind of dungeon I think? It’s small and dark, and it smells weird. Can you get me out?’

‘Kara? It’s Alex, we’re all here. We can hear you, just, but we can’t see you. We’re going to work out where you are and get you out. Do you remember how you got there?’

They all held their breath as they listened for Kara’s next message, focusing hard to pick up the distant words.

‘I was in the Tower, then there was an explosion, and I fell. There was a sort of tunnel... I’m at the bottom of it now, but the entrance sealed up behind me’.

The others glanced at each other, all trying to puzzle out what sort of portal Kara might have gone through to end up where she had described and yet still be audible from the Tower. All but Lena, who, being closest, had picked up the direction of the voice. A sneaking suspicion was growing in her mind as she honed in on it and put the pieces together with what Kara had told them.

It couldn’t be… could it?

She rummaged through the layers of discarded supersuit until she reached the knee high boots, which had folded over on themselves without the support of Kara’s legs inside to hold them up. She picked up the left one and peered inside, down the long tunnel of red leather it created.

Nothing.

Feeling a little silly now with everyone staring at her with expressions ranging from baffled to bemused, she picked up the right, and was instantly met with a tiny yell of alarm.

‘Woah! The room’s moving!’

Ah hah.

Lena laid the boot out very carefully on its side, and help the top part open.

‘Kara? Has the tunnel open up again now?’

‘Yes! How did you know that?’

‘I just- well, you’ll see in a minute. Follow the light. But uhh… try not to be too alarmed when you get out. We’re going to fix this, okay?’

They all stared as, blinking against the comparative brightness of the room, a tiny figure emerged from the boot’s opening.

Esme let out a shriek of pure joy, tears entirely forgotten, and would have thrown herself across the room to scoop up her now doll-sized aunt had Kelly not put restraining arms around her.

‘No baby, you might hurt her by mistake. Lets stay back here a minute and let Aunt Lena do it, okay? Lots of big people around her might be a bit frightening for Aunt Kara right now’.

And the sudden loud yell had indeed seemed to startle Kara, making her flinch and dive back into the mouth of the boot. Lena lay down on her side so she could see inside, head level with the cave-like opening.

‘Hey, it’s alright Kara. You’re safe. We’re still in the tower. You seem to have… shrunk, somehow, but we’re going to figure out how to fix it, okay? I promise’.

She kept her voice quiet and coaxing, trying not to frighten Kara any further even as she struggled to wrap her own mind around what had just happened.

‘I… shrank?’

‘It does look that way. You’re inside your boot right now’.

Kara stared up at Lena, then around at the shadowy recesses of her refuge, and finally down at herself. She said something too quietly to pick up, though the tone was bordering on panicky, then she called out again, clearer now that she was no longer muffled by layers of leather.

‘Um… okay. So I have total faith that you’re gonna find a way to full-size me again, but in the mean time… does anyone have anything I can wear? I am… more naked than I realised’.

In the circumstances, Lena hadn’t quite taken in that part either until it was pointed out to her, but... yep. Kara was naked. Extremely, totally, life ruiningly naked. It was something she had fantasized about too many times to count through their years of as-yet-unacknowledged physical chemistry with each other, but if she was ever going to be lucky enough to get there for real, this was not how she had imagined it would go.

Lena averted her eyes quickly, her cheeks heating inconveniently in response, despite the fact that the situation was about as far from sexy as it could get, and Kara was at this moment only around four inches high.

‘Right, of course, I’ll find you something. Stay there a minute, okay?’

Finding miniature clothes on short notice was easier said than done, and in the end they had to settle for a kleenex, which Kara wrapped around herself toga-style, and secured with a hair elastic offered up by a still-delighted Esme. It was pink and sparkly, and had a plastic glitter butterfly ornament attached to it, but it was the best they could do at short notice.

Once she was dressed and had fully emerged from the boot, Lena held out her hand and Kara climbed gingerly up into it, hanging on grimly as she was lifted from the floor.

‘Are you okay? Are you hurt?’

‘I don’t think so. I’m just… a bit overwhelmed. I don’t think I like being tiny. Also… and this seems kind of insignificant compared to what just happened, but I’m really hungry’.

She sounded totally miserable, and Lena wished she could hug her friend, but she was afraid that wrapping a hand around her would feel more like being grabbed than hugged. She settled for laying a fingertip lightly on Kara’s shoulder in a gesture that, she hoped, would feel comforting rather than alarming.

‘We’re going to figure this out. But in the meantime, hungry is something I can help with’.

Cupping Kara in her hands so she wouldn’t fall, Lena carried her over to the table where various snacks were laid out to fuel them through what they had thought would be a typical day of work. Lena skimmed the various options quickly, before settling on the remains of an order of potstickers and placing Kara down very gently amongst them.

Kara’s squeal of delight was the loudest noise Lena had heard from her since she had been miniaturised, and she couldn’t help laughing as she watched her best friend launch herself at a dumpling that was almost as big as she was.

As she turned back to the others to begin the work of figuring out how to un-shrink Supergirl, she was pretty sure she heard a tiny cry of ‘BEST DAY EVER!’ from inside the box.

It looked like Kara might just have found some upsides to being pocket sized, after all.

[melinoelliones]

Vincent had a long days work ahead, files and documents covered his desk from top to bottom. However, he had just called you to his office, what could he need from a maid?

MINORS DNI/AGELESS BLOGS DNI/ANTI DC DNI/18+

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist 

Warnings: Slight manipulation, choking, affairs, blowjob, cursing, teasing, crying, lust, one night stand? fem reader

1.7k words

This is so rushed i’m sorry Black Butler fans!!!

“Are you just going to stand there? I called you down here for a reason, now come” he demanded, not even lifting his eyes off of the stack of documents on his desk. “Oh, sorry, yes master” you shuddered, jumping out of your trance and making your way over to his side, not forgetting to bow, “Why are you acting so shy and modest all of a sudden, this wasn’t the side you showed me the other night now was it”.

Your master, Earl Vincent Phantomhive had thrown the party of all parties a couple days before for all the elites, one thing may have led to another which ended in you sleeping with him. It was not what you had intended to do, you were his maid afterall, if anyone was to find out it would be a disaster. Why would he bring it up now? Especially considering after it happened he had said to keep it between you both.

“W~What are you talking abo~ ah” you shrieked ever so slightly as you felt a hand between your thighs, riding up your dress, “stop being so loud she’ll hear you, but back to why I called you here, will you be ever so kind as to help your master relieve some of this stress” Vincent asked as nonchalantly as could be, again eyes never leaving the papers.

“How would you like me to do that? I could get Tanaka to maybe make you some tea, let me go get hi~” “you know that's not what I want” he looked up at you, pushing his chair out from under his desk to grip onto your dress as you attempted to walk away. “But I’m just a maid”, “a maid who’s almost begging for me to touch them? How foolish do you think I am exactly?” he laughed, your eyes widening as his eyes turnt to you for the first time today.

“Ever since that night I’ve noticed you avoiding me, claiming to be unwell and taking days off yet you seemed perfectly fine to me when you were getting off to me in your quarters. Or did you think I wouldn’t know?” he crooked his head, wondering how you would dare to respond to those accusations. As you attempted to think of a lie he cut you off, “even now your dress has less petticoats, I can practically see your entire body, this was what you wanted no?”.

You couldn’t even deny it, this was a fantasy you had had for a while but you hadn’t expected it to play out like this. Not with him in control of the situation anyway, but you were not going to let it slip away that easily.

“A lady mustn't reveal all her secrets, my lord” you smiled, taking a step between the desk and chair before moving to your knees under it. “That's what I wanted to see” he smirked, freeing his cock from his trousers. A small gasp leaving your lips as he took it out, the night you spent together was nothing but a blur so you hadn’t remembered him being as big as he was.

As you took his piece in your hands you were met with a slight groan from him, letting you know how pent up he was, which was perfect for you of course.  You gently moved it towards you, molding it in your palm as it grew with each movement.

“Show me what you’ve been so desperate to do.” Vincent grinned peering at you under the desk, “yes, my lord” you nodded, placing your fingers on the cusp of his cock, pressing tightly as you stuck your tongue out letting a drop of your saliva cover his tip. “But why must we rush, you like to tease do you not?” you jested, watching his thighs tense up.

Whilst you kneaded his aching piece in your fingertips he huffed, unsure of how you would steer the situation, “only one of us is in the position to do the teasing, you are still just a common whore that so happens to be my wife's maid”. Your body responded for you, tightening as he chuckled “Oh, does that turn you on?” he smirked.

Without another word you skimmed your tongue along his girthy shaft before parting your lips attempting to take his entire length in your mouth, your warm breath adding to the lingering burn in his stomach, “A~Atta girl, you got it”.

You bobbed your head up and down taking as much as you could, your saliva mixing with his precum engulfing his cock in a wet heat. “Fuuuck, full of surpr~rises are we”, he asked as his hand slid to your hollowed cheek, caressing it before bringing it to the back of your head, a slight pressure being added. His body turnt back to simultaneously finish his work on the desk whilst his fingers curled around your tied up hair.

You hadn’t expected the Earl to be so forward with you, not when you knew his wife could be almost anywhere in the manor, either way it was turning you on little by little. Your heated cheeks along with the large ache between your thighs almost taking over your body as you squeezed them together, allowing yourself that bit of pleasure.

Vincent's groans became sloppy and incoherent as your tongue slid across the slit in his piece before taking it back in, humming to allow it to slip back down your throat, the vibrations adding to the overwhelming closeness he was feeling. You slid a hand between the folds of your skirt, “f~fuck” you cried out against his cock as you ran your fingers across your sopping underwear, the friction from the fabric against your swollen clit sending you into a spiral. If only you could see the sloppy handwriting you were causing the Earl to have.

As the scene was at its peak you heard the door creek open, both of you freezing almost instantly, “Goodmorning my love, have you seen that girl anywhere?”. Although you could only hear the woman, you knew exactly who it was, Vincent gave you the fiercest of expressions before lifting his head to his wife, “Who are you referring to my dear?” he asked, acting oblivious.

“That maid you hired for me, I remember her saying she felt a bit under the weather so I wanted to see if she would like to take a stroll with me down to the river, the fresh air could do her some good I think�� Rachel beamed, completely unaware of the scene just on the other side of the desk. Your body ran cold as she spoke, Rachel was the sweetest and most patient of women and always treated you almost like an equal yet here you were, sucking off her husband.

“Oh is that r~right”, “darling, are you alright?” “YES, yes I’m fine, don’t step any closer” he commanded, his body folding over the papers on his desk at your actions. The guilt of the situation had weirdly given you a boost, it was almost as if you liked this. In the middle of the conversation you had run your hand down his cock, toying with his balls.

“I think she’s c~closer than you t~think” he hissed, pushing your head further into him as you choked out, his crown hitting the back of your throat constantly as tears ran down your face. “Oh, okay dear thank you, I will speak to you once you’ve finished up those papers” she curtsied, pulling up the door to continue her search.

His eyes widened as he lent back in his chair, before he could even say another word you felt him shudder, and as if on cue he released, you could feel it cascade down your throat coating it completely, his breath hitching as you continued to deepthroat him, holding whatever remained in your mouth. “W~Well I didn’t e~expect this”, you could hear his subtle whines as the overstim started to consume him, the delirium swirling inside him as the suction intensified.

“G~od you’re fucking amazing, now cmon and show me the mess you’ve made”, his voice bellowed, watching you slow down, using your tongue to take in the elixir of cum and saliva encasing his cock cleaning him up. You could almost feel his member throbbing as Vincent used your hair to pull you off his cock. You gazed at him alluringly, tear stained cheeks on display as the trail of liquids from his shaft and the sides of your lips broke, allowing you to show him your tongue.

“Perfect, now swallow” he ordered, pulling you up from the ground to your feet, his piece still on display as you took it all down. “You have no shame do you, tears down your cheeks yet you didn’t seem to slow down as my wife spoke. She would be so disappointed in you right now” he sighed sarcastically, using his thumb to wipe the corners of your lips, your pathetic face almost laughable.

“Well? Why are you still in my presence, your ladyship is looking for you is she not?” The stern Earl scoffed, your body not even sure of how to react. “Oh, um, yes, my lord” you stuttered, slowly edging towards the side of the desk, his blank stare burnt into your mind as you turnt to face the door. Had this all meant nothing?

As you went to push off the desk you felt a presence, “How amusing” he cooed in your ear as you stomach hit the desks face, his body hovering above your back. “Taking our time are we? Well, what should I do with you now” he growled, a hand inching your skirt up as he nibbled your neck. His bare cock pressed up against your lower half, you needed him badly. 

Watching your pitiful attempt at leaving was almost comical to the Earl, but he had never intended for you to leave so soon, not when he knew you were a whore with no morals. He was more than ready to make use of his wifes little expedition, your body was his for the taking and you were more than eager to give it to him. He would not stop until all his stress was gone.

[tj-dragonblade]

[FIC] Chaos and Calm

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling Rated: G Word Count: 1551 Tags: fluff, domesticity, single dads, pre-relationship, outings in the park, feeding the ducks, rain

Notes: For Day 1 of Dreamling Week 2024 as organized by @mr-sadman, for the prompt 'hunt'. Also dedicated to the wonderful @chaosheadspace, whose single-dads AU Castle in the Sand rotates in the back of my head quite often - I meant to have this coincide with your birthday but didn't quite make it, alas.

Summary: Searching for rain boots and meeting friends in the park. No real plot, just meandering domestic parenting vibes.

On AO3

"Robyn! You 'bout ready, kiddo?"

Hob winces at the sound of something heavy thudding on the floor above, and then his son appears at the top of the stairs. "I can't find my boots!"

Hob suppresses the urge to sigh. "Do you remember where you had them last?"

Robyn's brow furrows. "Maybe? They might be in the cupboard? But I think I might have used 'em as astronaut boots and forgot to put 'em back."

"Did you check by the washing machine?"

"Not yet."

"Okay. You keep looking in your room; I'll check down here and then come help you look if I don't find them."

"'Kay." Robyn scrambles back up from where he'd started down the stairs and dashes back to his room, and Hob heads to check the coat cupboard in the front hallway.

They're meant to be meeting Dream and Orpheus at the park in fifteen minutes. The day has turned out to be dreary and grey, light rain off and on keeping it misty and damp and a raincoat plus wellies are definitely called for.

If only he or his son could be relied upon to consistently put things back in their expected places. Ellie had always scolded them about it, gently, and for all the years since she's been gone Hob has kept trying to do better, but it's not always top of his mind and they're both surviving okay, despite the current inconvenience.

He checks the bottom of the coat cupboard; no boots.

He lets the sigh out this time, since Robyn's not there to see the frustration. He checks the utility room next, where last year's too-small snow boots are still sitting next to this year's because Hob hasn't gotten round to dropping them off at the charity shop yet. This year's snow boots will have to do if they can't find the wellies, but he's not giving up yet.

He's not going to tear the house apart looking, either, though; he's eager to get going. Letting Robyn spend time with his best friend is important, but also. Hob really looks forward to seeing Dream, for—well. For lots of reasons, that he's comfortably aware of but cautious about acting on because the kids would be caught in the middle if it didn't work out and that's the last thing he wants. Right now he just wants to let himself enjoy the possibilities. Hanging out, conversations while the kids play, watching Dream's pretty face go soft and expressive as they talk.

So. Best check all the likely spots in this comfortably-cluttered chaos he lives in, then, so they can find the boots and get going. It would certainly be easier if his home was less messy, but he's a single dad with a very active kid, he teaches secondary school, and taking the time to make his home look like a magazine spread is just not on his agenda. And sure sometimes it bites him in the arse, like now, but most times the chaos is of a manageable level and more importantly, it works for them.

Just. Not today, apparently.

He pulls his phone from his pocket, fires off a quick text to Dream.

May be a few minutes late We've a crisis of missing wellies over here Keep you posted

Dream's response comes through almost instantly.

I wish you luck in your hunt, then. We will wait.

Hob smiles, tucks the phone back in his pocket and heads up the stairs to join the search.

Robyn's room is a little bit of a disaster zone, as he's been throwing things around in his haste, and Hob kneels to crawl around the floor and help him look. He'll help him straighten up later, too, but for now they're boot-hunting.

Robyn is a little worried, as it turns out. "What if Orpheus and his dad leave before we get there? What if they think we're not coming because I can't find my stupid boots?"

Hob laughs, a small laugh full of kindness. "They wouldn't," he assures, pulling his kid into a one-armed hug as they sit on the floor. "And besides—I texted Orpheus's dad so they know we're running late." He drops a kiss in Robyn's hair. "Now let's find those blasted wellies so we can get going, yeah?"

The boots are not under the bed, or the desk in the corner; they're not in the toy chest, nor the basket for Robyn's dirty laundry, nor under the laundry that hasn't quite made it into the basket. Hob helps that last category get to where it was meant to be and sits back with a sigh, making a mental note—and hopefully he'll remember later—to be sure to run a load of Robyn's clothes.

"Alright, kiddo, is there anywhere you haven't looked yet?"

Robyn ponders for a moment, face scrunched in thought, and then lights up. "Oh!" He scrambles off the floor and over to the wardrobe, yanks it open. Hob would have thought that would be the first place to check, so he hadn't looked himself but obviously he should have, because Robyn dives into it with a little yell of victory and emerges with a boot held high in either hand and triumph radiating from his grin.

~ They're only a little bit late to the park; Robyn and Orpheus spot each other at the same instant and yell in excited unison, charging across the wet grass and crashing into a hug that also involves a lot of jumping up and down. Hob grins at their enthusiasm, eyes searching beyond them to find Dream looking for him as well; the smile that blooms on Dream's face, visible even at this distance, makes Hob's heart do a pleasant little flop in his chest.

"Your hunt was successful, I see," Dream says, when they are close enough for speaking; they are trailing after the boys, who are cavorting in the general direction of the duck pond, splashing in collected puddles on the path. Dream's got his umbrella up, even though it's not raining right this moment, which somehow just enhances his general goth vibe.

Hob stuffs his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, time to do a major cleaning. His room's a bit of a mess but we finally found his wellies in the wardrobe. Which honestly would have been the first place I checked if I'd realized he hadn't. Kid brains work on different logic, I suppose."

"True." Dream shifts a little, casts a glance sideways at Hob. "Robyn is fortunate to have a father so skilled at finding lost items."

"Got a lot of experience misplacing my own crap," Hob offers, laughing to cover the flustery warmth seeping into his chest at Dream's simple compliment. "And he found the boots himself, just needed some help thinking it through."

"As I said. He is fortunate to have your guidance," Dream reiterates, and Hob is saved from having to respond when Robyn comes running back to where the two of them have stopped at the path's edge. Orpheus is over by the pond, bending down to peer between the rails of the short wooden fence that surrounds it as several ducks swim toward him.

"Dad! Did you bring the peas? The ducks're hungry!" There's eager excitement in Robyn's voice and Hob smiles.

"'Course I did, kiddo, here." He rummages in the bag at his hip, slung comfortably across his chest, and hands over the snack-size freezer bag of peas; Robyn thanks him and dashes back over to Orpheus. Whether or not the ducks are 'hungry' is arguable, but Hob won't deny his kid the human joy of personifying the world around him nor of feeding the ducks, which is generally their purpose in coming to this park. He glances sideways at Dream—who is Hob's own private secondary reason for any of the activities they do together with their kids—and finds him watching the boys with the softest little smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.

He's so beautiful.

It starts raining, then, just a light misty sprinkle. The boys put up the hoods on their raincoats and carry on tossing peas to the eager birds who've gathered for the feast; Hob is about to dig his own umbrella out of his bag but Dream steps closer and shifts his own broad umbrella over Hob as well. His arm presses up against Hob's, from shoulder to elbow, and Hob swallows the urge to lift his arm and put it around Dream's shoulders, leans solidly into the touch instead. It's nice.

It's so, so nice, and Hob revels in the imagined warmth he can feel seeping into the contact despite the layers between them, the way that seconds turn to minutes and neither of them moves away, how they both watch their boys in comfortable silence. Hob's thoughts and emotions often feel chaotic and jumbled up in the same way his house manages to be a mild-but-functional disaster zone but this—sharing an everyday domestic moment with Dream, the casual unremarked closeness between them—it quiets something in his head, makes anything and everything seem gloriously possible.

This, this is a feeling worth finding, a feeling he did not even realize he was searching for.

He is still entirely grateful to have found it.

= Started: 6/2/24 Drafted: 6/3/24 Posted: 6/3/24

[eoieopda]

blindsided (myg)

After years of dating, you thought you had Min Yoongi all figured out - you didn't. And when he flipped the script on you, you never saw it coming.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Fem!Reader | Darksided AU Type: Sequel to darksided. Word Count: 6K Content: SMUT (18+ - Minors DNI,) established relationship au, POV switch, softbf!yoongi turned dom!yoongi, sub!reader, sex tape, oral sex (f receiving,) v fingering, p in v penetration, unprotected sex, squirting, multiple orgams, over-stimulation, spanking, biting, blindfold, praise kink, pussy slapping, general depravity, aftercare, fried chicken. A/N: Seriously, go read darksided (linked above) if you haven't yet. This takes place approx. two weeks later, and while the context isn't necessary, things will make more sense! Check out the playlist while you’re here. Tags: @exhibitachol @sstarryoong @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @miraculous-disaster @wakeupinahaze

For the first time in his life, Yoongi was avoiding his studio.

He had a mountain of work left to do on his mixtape – and, importantly, the drive to finish it – but that was precisely why he’d stayed away. Anytime he stepped foot inside over the past two weeks, his mind wandered far, far away from the task at hand. His previously unyielding discipline fell by the wayside the second he crossed the threshold.

Instead of focusing on the tracks he had yet to write, or perfecting the ones he'd already recorded, his eyes would roam over the surface of his desk on the other side of the room. It'd since been returned to its usual state, covered in various notebooks, and recording equipment. But it looked so much better with your bare, sweat-slicked body writhing on top of it.

And when he'd finally muster the willpower to look back at his computer, his gaze would pass over - and then jerk back to - the wall he’d pinned you against as his fingers fucked a river out of you. His blood pressure would spike as he pictured you there, relying on him to hold you upright, and any hope of accomplishing anything would drop dead on the floor.

The very same floor you’d fastidiously scrubbed to erase the mess he’d made of you, no less.

And then he’d think to himself: This isn’t a workspace anymore - it’s holy ground. 

Yoongi was running out of time, though, and he had to do his best to keep his mind on his work, off of you. Catching himself once again rewinding through recent memories, he let out a groan and forced his wandering eyes back to the screen in front of him.

He realized as he scrolled through his editing software that he’d done a piss-poor job of labeling his masters lately. This, of course, made it impossible for him to remember which track was which. On a whim, he chose the file in the middle of the folder and brought it up.

If he’d paid attention to the size of the file, he could’ve prepared himself for the consequences of pressing ‘play' - but he didn’t and he wasn't. 

“I really couldn’t love you more if I tried.” "Should I shut it off now until you're ready to start?" "I can cut it down. I do need you to cue the track, though - when I signal you."

Biting down hard on his bottom lip, he secured his headphones over his ears. He’d never been less interested in hearing his own music; so, without a second thought, he skipped over the next three minutes. As he did, his hand dropped down to palm his hardening dick through his jeans.

“Is it me, baby? Have I got you dizzy?”

Your little whimpers were barely audible in the recording, but they still managed to ignite a fire in the pit of his stomach. The blaze spread throughout his body when he pictured the way you looked below him then - so soft and shy, but with such carnal desire sparking in the dark of your eyes.

“I can’t give you what you want if you can’t tell me what that is.”

Anticipating your next line, his hand tensed around his cock. It was a pale imitation of that vice grip he found between your thighs, but it was something; and he would've taken anything.

“I don’t want you to be gentle with me. I - I know that you -”

Even caged between the walls of unimaginable heat, the irony of it all wasn't lost on him. The best recording he'd ever produced was created purely by accident -

“Stupid girl. You know nothing.”

- and it wasn't music at all.

“Get up.”

With Yoongi working hard on his creative pursuits, you begrudgingly committed to addressing your own. Like him, you had a to-do list long enough to circle the globe; but unlike him, you weren't buried in projects because you wanted to be. 

When Yoongi crossed off a task, he scribbled five more in its place. His mind never idled because he found inspiration everywhere. A half-remembered vignette from childhood that shook itself loose to become something beautiful. A word he encountered in passing that he’d transform into some modern-day epic. He generated this much work solely because his passion - like his potential - was limitless. 

To the contrary, you generated this much work because you were easily distracted. You’d start one project, and before you could finish it, your attention would flutter off on the wind like dandelion seeds. All those half-starts would stockpile until you eventually boxed yourself into a corner - and then, somehow, you'd keep stacking. 

Today's task was simple: you needed to transfer your recent photos from your camera's memory card to your laptop. Easy. Drag files from one folder to another, and then your contribution to this month's magazine spread would be finished. It should've only taken an hour - at most - for the upload to complete. 

Instead of doing what you intended, you ended up where you always did: happily lost in the weeds. This particular distraction was a folder from four years ago, when Yoongi took you on an anniversary trip to Paris. If you really had to defend this tangent, your scattered brain's game of word association wasn't far off - the photos you were supposed to tend to were from Paris Fashion Week. 

That counts for something, right? 

You snorted as you toggled through your archive. Had you taken a single photo of the stunning architecture, or countless historical sites you’d visited? Of course not. But you had snapped approximately one-hundred shots of an unaware Min Yoongi - buying you macarons; befriending a stray cat by an ATM; grimacing as he sipped wine you both hated but spent too many Euros on to waste. 

Wait, what were you supposed to be doing? 

Whatever it was, you’d swear up and down that you really did intend to finish it, but then you heard familiar, muffled footsteps. And then you felt the mattress dip slightly under the tops of your thighs and the elbows you’d propped yourself up on.  

And then the same Min Yoongi whose face beamed on your screen - slightly older, and even more adored - slid over the backs of your outstretched legs until his knees came to rest at either side of your ass. His body was warm as it loomed over you, but you shivered, nonetheless. 

Leaning in, he pushed your hair over your right shoulder and pressed a warm kiss into your left. Though he'd targeted an area several centimeters away from your spine, the aftershocks of this chaste contact rippled down its length. From there, the current divested and shot through each of your limbs, paralyzing you. 

You hummed and let your eyelids flutter shut. He ascended the arc of your shoulder, then your neck, leaving a smattering of kisses in his wake until the trail went cold. His quiet exhale tickled the skin below your ear, but he hovered in place - too far away. 

Reflexively, you whined and tilted your head to look at him. Effectively pinned, all you could do was survey his profile in your peripheral vision. “Baby?” You nudged. 

The hand he wasn’t using to hold his weight snuck under the hem of your tank-top and caressed the bare curve of your waist. His hypnotic ministrations on your side might’ve lulled you to sleep if you weren’t so intrigued by his so-far wordless affection. 

Thoroughly spellbound, your lids closed again while your lips remained parted. There was a moan building slowly in your chest, taking its time, but it was a gasp that tore out of you when his teeth nicked your lobe. His tongue was quick to soothe the pinch, and even quicker to solicit a mewl. 

You had no idea where this was coming from. Moreover, you didn't know what additional surprises this man was capable of. Though Yoongi had always been affectionate with you, he'd only recently unearthed some rare, raw sensuality that you never expected. In the time since this discovery, his touches became more frequent. You felt more of him underscoring each one, no matter how brief. 

The fingers skimming over your waist disappeared and left you cold, but before you could process the loss, they reappeared - lower now, pushing up the bottom of your underwear, and gripping the doughy cheek of your ass. Hard. Instantaneously, your hazy eyes re-opened. 

Min Yoongi truly contained multitudes. 

"Have I told you that you're my muse?" He purred into the shell of your ear as his hand massaged the skin he'd likely bruised.  

Enchanted once again, your sole response was a breathy moan. Only after his hand raised and smacked back against your ass did you realize he'd lulled you into a false sense of security. 

"When I ask you a question, I want an answer. Do you understand, baby?" 

Your shuttered breaths and accompanying nod weren't sufficient replies. His palm collided with your delicate cheek a second time, and it stayed there. The sting was muted by his fingers digging in and pinching; but it wasn't the pain that stole your attention. 

Instead, it was the wetness gushing between your clenched thighs when he whispered, "Use your words, angel." 

"I do," You muttered urgently, "I understand." 

The grip on your ass dissolved. You knew better now than to trust the warm hand kneading your cheek, but you couldn't resist moaning. Fuck - his touch was perfect. 

He contradicted the gentle caress below with a nip at your neck; and the kiss placed at that same spot preceded the true kill-shot. He hummed against your skin and your soul threatened to leave your body: 

"Good girl." 

The noise that escaped your mouth was stranded between a gasp and a cry. Oh, this man would be the death of you. 

"You inspired my next project today," He murmured between kisses to your neck. The tip of his nose was cold as it brushed across your skin and that disparity in temperature left you in shambles. "Not something I've done before -" He paused to suckle at your neck, no doubt leaving a mark when he released you, "And I need your help, baby." 

Another whimper escaped when his index finger snapped the elastic waistband of your boy-shorts; and you felt his mouth curve into a smirk. "I'll do anything -" You meant it. "Just - please, Yoongi, I need to feel you." 

"You will," His mirth left him in a breathy chuckle. It vibrated through your body and formed goosebumps as it went. "But not yet, angel. I want to savor this." 

Confused, you pouted - another exhaled laugh against your neck - and then, in a tiny voice, you asked, "What do you mean?" 

His hand slid up the back of your neck. With the base of your skull held gently captive between his thumb and middle finger, he guided you to turn your head to the left, then down. 

It didn't click right away. Silently, you blinked down at your camera. Is this what he wanted you to see? Why did - "Oh, no," you groaned as your head drooped forward. 

"Oh no?" He repeated, and though he tried, he couldn't hide the surprise in his tone. You quickly realized that he mistook your reaction for disinterest. He couldn't have been more wrong.  

Your sudden, complete deflation was simply your body buckling under the weight of unspeakable arousal. It anticipated the world-endingly perfect way he was about to fuck you; and it couldn't process the fact that it would all be memorialized. He really would be the end of you. 

Your head tilted until it rested against the side of his. "The memory card inside it is full, but there's a new one in my bag." 

Although you couldn't see it, you knew the corner of his mouth would twitch excitedly upwards at your words. At his, your mouth dropped open: 

"Any clothes you're still wearing when I come back to this bed will be ripped off. Got it?" 

It was difficult to tell which part of this exchange made your legs quiver the most: the stern warning itself; the contradictory soft, husky tone in which he said it; or the kiss the top of your head received when you responded - out loud - in the affirmative. He was gone before you could figure it out, making his way to the camera bag in the corner of your bedroom. 

He'd barely taken two steps when you frantically pulled your oversized tank-top over your head. It landed somewhere out of sight, and it was swiftly joined by your underwear - grey fabric soaked black. Your laptop was more carefully dismissed, tucked gently under the nightstand to avoid being ruined the way you were sure to be. 

When your head hit the pillow, your heart was already racing. Suddenly, you felt shy as you lay naked in your own bed, like you hadn't been in this position so many times before. There was a long-forgotten anticipation turning flips in your stomach. It bent your knees and brought your arms up to rest over your bare chest - you hadn't felt it since the very first time Yoongi saw you like this. 

As if he'd been summoned by your thoughts, Yoongi walked towards you with his focus trained on the camera in his hands. The tip of his tongue poked out through pursed lips as he carefully slotted the new memory card into the bottom, but it disappeared when the compartment clicked shut again.

He froze when he looked up at you, and your hammering heart threatened to make a break for it. 

"Baby," He was frowning. You raced to figure out which of his directions you failed to follow; but he interrupted the frenzy in your brain with that maddeningly soft, stern voice, "Why are you hiding?" 

Mouth open and poised to respond - with what, you weren't sure - you were cut off by the extended finger he raised to silence you. You clamped your jaw shut; his mouth curved ever-so-slightly at your quick compliance. 

See? You wanted to say, I'm learning! 

He removed the lens cap before his eyes flitted back up to you. "Hands above your head -" You did as he asked, though you didn't know where this was going. "- Close your eyes -" Again, you obeyed. "Don't move." 

And you didn't.  

You laid there with your eyes closed and listened for any sign of what was coming next. You could hear the muffled tread of his bare feet on the rug; and you expected further instructions - none came. Then you waited for any familiar noise from your camera - there was silence. But you smelled his cologne as he came closer, and the warmth you suddenly felt at your side told you that he’d reached you. 

“Lift your head up – but keep your eyes closed.” 

The eyebrow you raised in question was covered with some cool, silky fabric before Yoongi could have registered it. You received your answer in his actions. Gentle fingers adjusted the way the blindfold fell over your eyes, and then – even more gently – they tied a knot at the back of your head. Not too tight, but firm enough to keep it from slipping. It was no surprise to you that he’d handled this without disturbing a single hair on your head. 

His hands, once behind your head, now cupped your face. “You listen so well, angel,” He murmured before plush lips brushed against your forehead. “Lay back down the way you were.” 

Your head returned to the pillow and your elbows bent to allow your hands to meet above it. And you waited like that, trying to sense what his next move would be.

His footsteps padded off, and you figured he was seeking the best place to set up the camera. He paused, though, after only taking a few steps. The camera whirred – the auto-focus, you recognized immediately – and then it clicked. 

“So beautiful – you know that, don’t you? How stunning you are?”  

Click. 

“Perfect -” 

Click. 

“Mine” 

You couldn't help wondering how his photos would turn out. If your cheeks weren’t red under the blanket of his praise, it’d only be because you’d turned into a puddle. Your arousal had strayed far enough to slick the insides of your thighs, and if he didn’t touch you soon, you might liquify entirely and seep through the mattress to the floor. 

In the distance, plastic settled on wood. The strap affixed to your camera slithered over whatever surface he’d chosen; you could hear it slip over an edge, then it was silent. The bookshelf, you decided, third row from the top. Maybe second, if he liked the angle better? 

Without speaking first, he crawled up onto the foot of the bed. He paused there, likely kneeling in front of you. His hands slipped under your bent knees, and the only warning you got was him purring, “Come here,” mere seconds before you were pulled forward. You imagined that your gasp was still hanging in the air when you slipped out from under it. 

As soon as he was satisfied with your proximity, his hands found the insides of your knees and encouraged your legs to spread. “Now, baby -” He started, the heat of his breath indicating just how close his mouth was to your weeping cunt. “You’ll make sure the camera can hear you, won’t you?” 

The word was caught in your throat, suddenly bashful, but it eventually slipped out, “Yes.” 

You knew you’d failed as soon as you heard it, and you didn’t need to wait long to face the consequences. You jolted when his flattened fingers collided with your cunt - the sensation was a surprise, but the sound was what shocked you. Fuck! You could hear how wet he had you already.

Sodden, pooling, dripping. 

“Don’t be selfish, angel,” He tutted after withdrawing his touch from you, “Those sounds might come out of your mouth, but they don't belong to you, do they?” 

“No -” Your desperation was palpable when you responded with your whole chest. “They don’t. I – I won’t be selfish, I promise -” 

You cried out when he slapped your cunt a second time, an obscene chord formed by surprise, torment, and unbearable need.

“Whose are they?”

“Yours!” You choked, “They’re yours. I’m yours.” 

His arms hooked under your thighs and your pulse skyrocketed. “See? You are learning.” 

And then he lurched forward, flat tongue dragging upwards over your core with a pressure so perfect, your entire body tensed. He squeezed your legs harder when your back arched, and it prevented you from inadvertently slipping away from him.  

That devilish tongue swirled over your clit, and all you could manage was a whisper of a moan. He corrected you wordlessly, digging his fingers into the flesh of your thighs. The groan he pulled from you ricocheted off each one of your ribs on the way out. Satisfied, he hummed in approval against your cunt before he proceeded to flick dizzying circles over your increasingly sensitive bud; alternating paces in the way he knew would drive you mad.  

Both of your arms reached out, and your hands carded through his hair. You pulled him ever closer, which prompted him to shake his head furiously with the flat of his tongue pressed against your heat.  

“Oh, fuck!” you wailed. As much as you wanted to watch him, you knew that – even without the blindfold - the way his mouth moved so expertly against you would have made it too difficult to keep your eyes open. They were already covered, but you squeezed them tight enough to see stars as he suckled your clit. “Shit, baby – ah – feels so good.”  

The thread holding you together frayed further and further with every brush of his tongue against your most sensitive spot. The sound of his breathing, ragged and muffled with your thighs pressed harshly against the sides of his head, would have done unspeakable things to you - if your mindless gasping didn't threaten to drown him out completely.  

He shifted without removing his mouth from you, and he unhooked his right arm from under your leg. The heel of his hand glided up over your pelvis, your navel, and your breasts before stopping at the underside of your jaw. Two fingers tapped at your chin; you took the hint and took them into your mouth.

His tongue never let up on your clit as you slicked his fingers, suckling on them the way he did you. Once he was satisfied with the work you’d done, he pulled his hand back down to your cunt.   

Tongue still relentless at your clit, his middle finger swung the focus to your entrance, which was drenched by his saliva and your own slick. Meticulous and slow, he slid his finger inside of you. He moaned at the way you constricted around him; you melted. 

He never struggled to find that secret spot hidden behind your pubic bone. He'd proven time and time again that he was more in tune with your body than you were. Every curve, dip, and line had been committed to muscle memory.  

He could anticipate your reaction to every touch, even when those reactions varied based upon your mood or your energy level - and it was automatic. Unthinking but knowing. He teased this spot without mercy, and as he likely expected, you began to shake under his touch.  

The growing feeling in the pit of your stomach was one you knew he strived for. His favorite trick, once he knew the secret. And whenever you tried to resist – still uncomfortable with the way your body reacted to him – he gave you no choice. 

No poet could adequately describe how completely your orgasm consumed you. With the way you jolted against his mouth, he could’ve electrocuted you. You wriggled and writhed in his arms as you came, but he didn’t stop, even as your walls clenched around his fingers and your thighs pressed even more tightly against the sides of his head.

Your familiar moans devolved into some desperate sounds you’d never made before, curse words spilling out over your lips as you just kept cumming – but he still held tight to you as you bucked wildly in his arms.  

There was unbelievable pressure until there wasn’t.  

“Fuck, I love it when you do that,” He growled with his face nestled into your quivering, dripping inner thigh. His teeth nicked the skin but were swiftly replaced with a kiss from his ravenous, open mouth. “That’s my good girl.” 

He let you collapse back onto the bed, but he denied you any time to recover.  

“I think you can do it again, baby. What do you think?” He teased, alternating words and quick kisses along the interior of your thigh. “Should we see how much more you can take?”  

You babbled something in response, but neither of you could’ve interpreted what you meant. Your limp neck rolled to the side while you tried to catch your breath; there wasn’t time. You felt him coat his fingers in the remnants of your orgasm moments before he slid them inside of you and curled them upward.  

The combination of relentless pressure and a feverish pace dotted stars across the insides of your eyelids. Breathless, dangling at the edge of a precipice, you stammered, “Yoo-Yoongi -” 

Despite the obscene squelch of his ministrations, his voice rang through, clear as a bell. “What, angel? Do you want to come again?” Stupidly, you nodded, but he didn’t scold you. Given your fucked-out state, he seemed to forgive your mistake. “Then come.” 

The blindfold covering your eyes was black, but your vision went white. As you spasmed and gushed uncontrollably around his fingers, there was a moment where you could’ve sworn your soul ejected itself from your body. If it was floating above you now, it would’ve seen how thoroughly you’d drenched your boyfriend; and how perfect he still looked with your juices dripping off his chin. 

His weight was shifting at your feet when you returned to your body. It took everything you had, but you lifted one, limp arm out in his general direction. No words, just an outstretched hand begging to find him. When it did, he slotted his fingers perpendicularly under yours, rubbed the pad of his thumb over your knuckles, and kissed the top of your hand. 

“What color?” he murmured against your skin. 

You sighed softly, exhausted but not yet entirely spent, “Green.” You paused and chewed on your bottom lip. After a moment of quiet, you asked, “Yoongi?” 

“Yes, baby?” 

It was pitiful how your request barely rolled off of your tongue, but the answer would surely be no if you didn’t ask. “Can I see you?” 

He was silent for a moment – so, the answer would be no even though you did ask – but then you heard his soft chuckle. Even after he pulled the blindfold off, your eyes were useless. Somewhere in the bright white haze was Yoongi, though you couldn’t confirm that the shadow in front of you was truly him. Maybe you truly had died. 

Blinking furiously, you refused to stop until your eyes remembered how to focus. Slowly, slowly, slowly, the dark figure before you took a familiar shape. Shirtless, with damp, black waves clinging to his cheekbones – there he was. Concern was etched into his features, but his narrowed eyes relaxed when you shot him a smile. 

“Color?” You inquired with a squeeze of your hand. 

When he dropped your hand, your heart fell with it. But he sat up on his knees, placed that hand on your cheek, and captured your lips in a kiss. It was perfect, but it was torturously brief.  

“Green,” He replied. He backed away from you until he was standing at the foot of the bed. One hand dropped to his belt buckle while the index finger on his other hand beckoned you. 

You crawled towards him until his palm silently instructed you to stop. 

“Elbows on the mattress, ass up,” He ordered as he made short work of his belt. It slid easily through the loops of his ripped jeans and clattered as it hit the floor.

You leaned forward as he instructed, knees and elbows digging into the comforter you’d absolutely need to wash later – especially considering the way your mouth watered when his jeans and boxers were discarded and kicked aside. Were you drooling? 

Your body buzzed with anticipation as he crossed to the side of the bed. You wished he took his time sidling over to you, so your eyes could continue to devour his lean, snow-white frame; but if the stiff cock encircled by his hand was any indication, Yoongi wasn’t interested in wasting time. Instead, he pushed himself up onto the bed, out of sight, and the next thing you felt was his hand collecting your hair, pulling, and forcing your face up to the camera. 

His free hand squeezed your ass cheek when he said, “Eye contact, baby. Show the camera how I make you feel. Can you do that?” 

With his tip teasing at your entrance, you weren’t confident that you could – but you’d sure as hell try. “I can,” Your determination was clear, even if the voice conveying it wavered. “I will.” 

“Good girl,” He hummed. He released your hair and placed a kiss on the same shoulder blade he had earlier - when he last had you in this position. “Now, take a deep breath for me.” 

It wasn’t graceful, the way you sucked in air as he penetrated you; it was an unholy, strangled sound, and it crashed through the quiet like a wrecking ball. Every instinct begged your head to droop forward, and your back to curve up upwards, but you fought them off. Praise for your efforts tumbled out over your spine between Yoongi’s shuttered moans. His noises had you clenching around his cock, and the tightened grip of your cunt transformed them into something guttural. 

He paused when he bottomed out. Like you, he seemed to be at a loss for words. The hand gripping your hip was holding on for dear life; and the one curved over your shoulder kept you in place, allowing him to bury himself as deeply as possible.

He didn’t speak until he slowly started withdrawing himself from you, “I love the way you take me, how that tight pussy fights me whenever I leave.” 

As his cock dragged over your g-spot, your entire body shivered. He felt it and chuckled; you hiccupped, “Still so s-sensitive.” 

“Green?” 

“More -” You begged, “Please, baby.” 

You asked for it, but you weren’t ready for it. His hips snapped forward and drove him back into you before you could process what was happening. And when he kept up that ravenous pace, rutting over and over and over your detonator, it took everything you had not to explode.

All your willpower was spent trying to withstand his thrusts, though – nothing could keep you from collapsing forward onto the bed as your white-knuckled fingers gripped the comforter below. 

Before your body could fully settle over the mattress, his hand on your shoulder evolved into an arm hooking over you. He pulled you upright as his arm crossed over your heaving chest; he didn’t stop until he had you pinned to his. 

Fucking upwards into you with shallow, staccato strokes, he scolded you. “What did I tell you?” His hand dropped from your hip and dipped between your quivering thighs. His rapid thrusts didn’t falter as his middle finger began to assault your clit. “Hmm? What did I just say?” 

“Eye conta -”

The end of that word mutated into a scream. He snapped his hips forward so suddenly, you never anticipated being shoved off the edge of the world. Your orgasm ripped through you, shutting off your brain and forcing your entire body to convulse around him. 

You went limp when you fell from your high; Yoongi’s hold on you tightened to keep you from collapsing. Unrelenting, he just – kept – rutting. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

You wailed when that fourth wave crashed down over you. Caught in its riptide, you spoke in tongues; writhing and shrieking and imploding. Could a person die from coming this hard? 

Yoongi’s panting pulled you out of the abyss he’d thrown you in. “Shit,” He hissed, “I’m so close - fuck, you feel so good -” You felt it all over when he growled into your ear, “Tell me where you want it, baby.” 

You answered, but it was impossible for your hazy brain to know for sure if you’d replied verbally or telepathically. Either way, he understood – he always understood – and his break-neck speed was replaced by deep, deliberate thrusts. He groaned out your name as his cock twitched inside you, painting your walls white. 

The kiss Yoongi left in the crook of your neck didn’t wash away with the water cascading down over the two of you. You could still feel the uniqueness of its warmth, even in a cloud of steam - under the hot, heavy droplets hitting your skin.  

Your eyes were closed to avoid the conditioner he was massaging into your scalp, but your exhaustion was likely to keep them that way. The only reason you hadn’t slipped down the drain yourself was your unspoken refusal to be separated from him. Though, with that invisible string tying the two of you together, you’d never be able to stray very far, even if you wanted to.

“Can you tilt your head back, love?” 

This one was a request, not a command, and he made no effort to move it for you. The weight of your sleepiness caused your neck to roll more clumsily than you intended; it gave up, and your head bumped against his clavicle when it dropped backwards.

“Sorry,” you murmured, but he was already chuckling. “My motor skills seem to have clocked out early.” 

His laugh ricocheted off the tile. “You won’t need them,” He mused as his hands gently worked the remaining conditioner from your hair. “We can use mine.” Then he kissed the crown of your head, not once but twice. You could feel his smile spread against your scalp when you giggled. “All done, baby.” 

He’d taken his time with you; and he’d taken great care to clean – then kiss – every sore muscle he encountered. And when he was done, he used a large, plush towel to wick the lingering droplets from your skin. His hands on your waist steadied you as you stepped into a pair of sweatpants, and he smoothed the damp waves that you disrupted in unceremoniously tugging an oversized sweatshirt over your head. 

Once the two of you were fully dressed, he cupped your face in his hands, kissed you deep, and asked, “Do you need a lift back to bed?” His eyes sparkled at his joke – of course, he meant lift literally – and his eyebrow arched when you meekly shook your head. “I’m not sold. Is that your final answer?” 

You, once again, shook your head. He exhaled amusement through his nose at your indecision. Then, he placed his hands on your waist. Perfectly coordinated – as always – he lifted as you hopped, pulling you into his chest while your limbs wrapped around him. He carried you easily back into the bedroom and set you down gently on the bare mattress. 

All of your bedding was spinning in the washing machine on the first floor of your home, but he had a fluffy, full-sized throw waiting there for you. You held up one side of it, silently inviting him to join you. When he settled at your side, your head ducked down and came to rest under his chin. As soon as his arm curled over your back, your heavy lids finally closed. 

You were both quiet, one foot in a dream, when the growl of his stomach startled you both awake. Erupting into laughter, you each craned your neck to see the other beaming back. 

He wiped the mirth pooling in the corner of his eye and sighed as his laughter petered out, “Delivery from that fried chicken place?” 

“Oooh, yes, please.”

A/N: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! The response to the first post was so incredibly overwhelming, I simply had to write a follow-up. I might continue to add one-offs to this darksided cinematic universe (lol) simply because I love their relationship dynamic. And the sexual journey they seem to be on, hahahah. Please leave feedback so I know what you liked and what you didn't! Also, lmk if there’s something you’d want to see in any possible future installments 👀

[yousaydisco]

THIS GOT SUPER LONG WHOOPS

I can't stop thinking about this post (TL;DR it is about how Kim's life is almost as sad as Harry's due to how he has lived his entire life as horribly repressed, not allowing himself the freedom of his own silliness which is why he is such a good pairing for Harry, since they are both silly) and I started thinking about thoughts

specifically how this knowledge would fit into a swap AU

like a lot of other people here, I really like a swap AU and I think it allows for a fun way to flip each character on its head and examine a Harry who is more cleaned up vs a Kim who is more of a disaster, and how Harry would fit taking a more patient role to a Kim that lost his memory. But! A problem I have with a lot of swap AU's is that Kim just. . . would never be allowed to be a disaster like Harry is.

If Kim was like Harry, who was brilliant and highly capable and basically the perfect detective except for substance abuse problems, explosive personality, narcissistic traits (looking at you, Superstar), and overall impossible to control, he would get fired. He wouldn't be given 500 chances like Harry (presumably) has. So in his swap AU, Kim is still his highly controlled self and Harry is slightly less of a disaster. Enough so that he doesn't drink himself to amnesia at the start of the case, but he is still a mess dealing with all his stuff.

So how did Kim lose his memory? Probably a car accident. Had to get dragged out of his precious Kineema and its completely totaled, he was hold up at the Whirling-In-Rags as he healed and woke up with just. No memory.

And no reason to repress anything anymore.

Some scenes:

Harry arrived at the crime scene days late because he was avoiding work to get drunk, which is also why Jean Vic isn't with him either because he's sick of babysitting him so when he gets to the Whirling and hears that the other officer hasn't been picking up the slack and instead is horribly injured he's like. Fuck!

Kim doesn't remember shit. Not about him, not about the world, but after some time wandering behind Harry all dazed and confused he finally sees Harry's car and GASPS and rushes over. He examines this thing top to bottom and spouts off trivia facts a mile a minute at Harry, who is just standing there like 'I thought this guy had brain damage' but he listens. So patiently.

He eventually does have to stop him though. He says its for the case, but it's really when Kim starts looking at the interior and he doesn't want him to see the mess in there. Or how badly he's taking care of the car.

Harry isn't sure why he's suddenly so insecure about being seen as messy in front of his guy. Whatever.

During the field autopsy Harry, who is horribly hungover, still throws up. Kim still comforts him by rubbing his back, probably went ahead and pull his hair away from Harry's face, and then pats around his pockets for the handkerchief.

Kim gets an inkling of a feeling that he's missing something (his notebook, though he doesn't know that yet) but Harry doesn't notice what is going on in Kim's head yet, when he probably normally would, because his highly highly repressed bi-sexuality is rearing his head because there is this guy just casually touching him lovingly and he can't think.

(Kim probably also lost his gun and badge, it fell out of his jacket when he was being dragged from the car, but Harry told him that in their first conversation. He wouldn't know that Kim is also missing a notebook)

Kim is also putting in all his effort into the field autopsy. He's like, I'm a cop? Okay, let's solve this!

When Harry suggests that Kim get on his shoulders to get the hanged man down he's like, hmm you look strong enough to carry me alright let's try that, and Harry barely has time to register that this guy called him STRONG LOOKING before Kim is climbing on him and he has to try and appear COMPLETLY 100% STRAIGHT.

He succeeds, but mostly because Kim is too focused on getting the corpse down. If he looked at Harry's face it would be very obvious.

But the actual autopsy = Kim probably approaches it mostly fearless. And he's trying to be really observant to make up for his eyesight not being all that great, and he's probably talking out loud about everything since he can't write it down. But it would still be Harry who noticed the bullet. Kim probably compliments Harry on his ability to see it and, again, Harry loses it a little bit.

Kim's interactions with Cuno and Cunoesse helps him unpack a few sense memories of going undercover with juvenile delinquents and he thinks the best way to talk to them is to relate to them. Somehow. All he can remember his trivia facts about Pinball and the best strategies to get a high school, and in between his lecture on it he sometimes breaks into rants about how Pinball sucks actually, and he hates it, and it makes him feel bad for reasons he doesn't know.

Harry tries to make Kim seem less weird by throwing in facts about Contact Mike.

More than anything it just baffles Cuno and Cunoesse.

When Kim hears that "Welcome to Revachol" for the first time he doesn't remember that its racist, but he does know how it makes him feel, so he's instantly pissed off. Harry, who is overall a good guy but has absolutely said racist stuff while drunk and probably the day before, goes off as well and stands up to the racist so Kim doesn't do something WORSE and get in trouble. It's not that Harry is socially aware enough that has a white guy he can get away with more stuff, he wants Kim to like him.

You know how at the end of day briefing in the game has Harry calling Kim so cool, and it feels like that is the moment where Kim is really endured to Harry? In this AU, Kim will say something like hey. We should hang out once the case is over. And Harry, who has a whole thing about feeling like he's terrible and horribly unlikeable and just wants someone to see him as a mess worthy of their time rather than just a fucked up person, finally admits to himself that he cannot repress this anymore and he might have a crush on this super cool weirdo.

(that doesn't mean Harry feels any better about himself, really. He's now just convinced that he has to Fix Himself Completely overnight so that he can actually help this guy regain his memories.)

(OH ACTUALLY! No, Harry doesn't want to help Kim regain his memories. He's not going to actively try and stop it if it happens, but he will secretly hope that he never remembers the world in case they met while Harry was blackout drunk and Kim won't like him anymore.)

A scene where Kim fiddles with Harry's radio and it starts playing disco. He can't help but let out an audible "ew." before switching it to Speedfreaks. Harry is offended to his CORE and they have a playful but still loud/heated argument about music.

THE BOARD GAME SCENE! Harry still gets Suzerainty and when he starts popping out the cardboard pieces Kim just SNATCHES it out of his hands. No apology. And he's having such an obvious blast just poking out the pieces and then taking out every part of the board game so he can see all the components (classic autism moment) that Harry impulsively (classic ADHD moment) buys multiple more board games just to give Kim more fun little pieces to poke out. And Kim loves it, and Harry thinks "I'm winning at making friends. I'm going to win a prize at making friends and the prize will be a friend :)"

They do eventually find Kim's badge and gun and Harry is very happy at that, but Kim is still like. Hmm. Something is missing.

When he finds his notebook he's just. SO HAPPY! He thinks its like being reunited with a friend. Probably hugs it/clutches it tight to his chest. But when he opens it he's like "god damn my handwriting is awful."

Harry asks to read it, mostly joking around, fully ready to steal it when Kim isn't looking, except Kim just. Hands it over. And doesn't stop Harry from reading it. And of course Harry does.

Kim doesn't really KNOW about homophobia so he probably just. Says gay shit all the time. And Harry can't deal with it. The scene with the smoker on the balcony is still really funny but it's less of Harry having a bi-panic moment (he still has elements of it though) but when Kim starts flirting back in earnest Harry is just. Jealous out of his mind. Puts a stop to it ASAP he's like "OKAY WE WILL TALK TO YOU LATER. ACTUALLY ONLY I WILL TALK TO YOU LATER. KIM LET'S GO!"

When Jean comes into the picture and starts arguing with/berating Harry, he's about ready to turn it into an all out brawl right there in the cafeteria, but Kim is like "HEY! You ass! He's been very helpful this whole time! Just because he's a drunk and he smells bad doesn't mean shit!"

Harry has heart eyes.

The tribunal has the injuries reversed, Kim gets shot and Harry gets the concussion and needs to keep Kim alive. Harry, who has been trying to sober up during the case for Kim's sake, takes speed to allow him to stay up to monitor Kim's health and as soon as Kim wakes up he's like "great! fantastic!" and passes the fuck out.

The whole thing with the Phasmid is the first time where Harry nerds out over something and not Kim. And Kim listens. And Harry probably cries because like, it's something he's allowed to like that isn't related to WORK and someone actually cares about what he is like when he isn't DETECTING and it helps him feel like a person rather than the Superstar Cop.

(Right after his rant on cryptids, Kim goes on a tangent about his cool camera and tells Harry every little thing about it and they just. Nerd out together).

[mixelation]

reborn au!!! how team disaster meets. sort of. comes in 3 parts. uh read the warning

this takes place after tori has fled oto (which imploded. maybe because of certain Actions. history repeats, etc), and after she's been traveling around with Deidara for a bit.

the warning: an adult man gets weirdly and uncomfortably fixated on tori in a way that's implied to be sexual and also intentionally humiliating for her. nothing comes of it but the dude's own demise

xXx

Tori woke up with her cheek pressed to a cold cement floor. The air was musty and smelled of human bodily fluids. She cracked an eyelid: the lighting was dim, but she was very clearly in a cell. Her face was a foot from the bars. 

Hello darkness, my old friend, she thought, because she’d thought she was done with waking up in strange cells. 

The dim light was coming from outside the cell, in a corridor. There was another cell across the way, and Tori could see a shadowy pile of rags inside. Another prisoner. 

When nothing happened for a few minutes, Tori sat up. The movement made her head ache, and her mouth was dry, but otherwise she felt mostly unharmed. Except something seemed… off. Really off.  

Someone had changed her clothes, to a baggy shirt that smelled of sweat and a pair of matching shorts. Tori stuck her hand up the back of the shirt, fingers tracing her skin for evidence of the intrusive thing she could feel modulating her chakra. 

“They’ve sealed it,” a voice from further in the cell said. 

Hatake Kakashi was leaning against the back wall, his legs spread out in front of him. What the fuck. 

(In the corner opposite of him was a bucket. Tori didn’t want to think about the bucket until she absolutely had to.)

Kakashi was wearing the same gross prison uniform, although he’d ripped off a strip of cloth from the bottom of his shirt to use as a makeshift mask over his nose and mouth. It would almost be cute, except nothing about the current circumstances were cute or amusing at all. He looked significantly worse for wear: his face was haggard and his posture screamed exhaustion. 

“Where are we?” Tori asked. 

“What village are you affiliated with?” Kakashi replied. His voice was wary. 

“None,” Tori replied. “Where are we?”

There was a long pause before Kakashi answered. “Hidden Grass.”

Interesting, Tori thought. Except not interesting at all! What the hell did Kusa want with her and Deidara?

“Did you see a blonde boy, when they brought me in?” Tori asked. “Blue eyes, about my age?” She paused and added, “Short?”

Kakashi simply stared back at her. 

“Please?” she tried. “He’s my friend.”

Kakashi rolled his head slightly to the side. He seemed… out of it. 

“They brought you in alone,” he told her. 

Kakashi was less than talkative, so Tori leaned against her own stretch of wall and contemplated what to do. 

She wasn’t particularly bothered by the seal on her back. She guessed it would prevent her doing any jutsu, but she was still strong enough to stand up and walk around. That meant she still had some chakra running through her body. In a pinch, she could just use blood for a seal. Ninjutsu had never been what made her dangerous, anyway. 

She was worried about Deidara. He was perfectly capable of an array of ninja skills that didn’t involve chakra, and he was clever on top of that, but the comments of their captor had been… well, she got the impression they’d be paying more attention to him than to her. She was sure he could handle himself, but the thought that he might be tortured or otherwise hurt made her antsy to do something. 

She took a deep breath. Calm down, she commanded herself. She needed information before she could do anything. Like, where was Deidara? Where was she, exactly, in relation to him?

Many hours passed, and four times the same guard shuffled down the corridor, shining a flashlight into cells as they went. None of the other prisoners said a word, so Tori kept her mouth shut and listened to the guard’s footsteps. They always stopped at the end of the hall, followed by scuffing noises. A room, maybe, with a chair?

She heard conversation at the end of the hall once, muffled but with a friendly cadence. More scuffing of furniture being moved. Then a female guard did the next rounds. 

There were no windows, so Tori had no idea how much time had passed. 

“How often do they feed us?” Tori wondered out loud.

Kakashi lulled his head towards her. “They haven’t fed anyone in six days,” he provided. 

Well, that explained a lot. 

“They might have put you in here because they’re running out of space,” Kakashi continued. “But part of me wonders if they just want to see if I’ll eat you.”

Tori laughed. The sound echoed in the cell. 

“It’s not really funny,” Kakashi replied dryly. 

“Don’t eat me; I taste bad,” she said. Then, because Kakashi was being chatty, she asked, “Can I look at the seal they put on you?”

Kakashi just blinked slowly at her. No answer. Okay. 

With the state he was in, Tori thought she could probably wrestle him to the floor and then look. But she didn’t really like the idea of physically holding someone down and rolling up their shirt, and also: Hatake Kakashi could be an important tool for escaping. After all, who knows what kinds of ninja she would run into when she freed herself and went to look for Deidara. She’d have to figure out where to look, then get around any obstacles, and then have a distraction if she needed to set up any fuinjutsu along the way. Having Kakashi on her side would be very useful, even half-starved. 

Teaming up with an unknown ninja always carried the risk of them bailing the second working with you was more hassle than it was worth. Tori didn’t fear that with Kakashi. But, if she did convince him to help her, he’d need his chakra.  

If Kakashi wouldn’t show her his seal, she’d have to figure out a way to visualize hers. Although she found it boring, Tori wasn’t complete shit at meditation. She crossed her legs, closed her eyes, and focused on how her chakra interacted with the seal. 

The good news was that the seal’s entire purpose was to suck up her chakra and then only let out what her body needed to maintain itself. That meant that, if she concentrated hard enough, she should be able to figure out the exact way that chakra moved through the seal. This would give her no information on what the seal looked like, but she could make an educated guess at reverse-engineering it. 

The female guard did another round. Tori imagined a single particle of chakra– which wasn’t really what chakra was made of, but helped her visualize it– and then imagined tracking it through her body. It was born in her stomach, then went up to her heart normally, and then the seal sucked it up before it could go anywhere else. It went through a weird spiral through there and she lost track. 

What did the spiral look like? She started again. 

The female guard made four more rounds. Tori’s stomach started to growl. 

Another guard came, this time banging on the cell bars and tossing water bottles at the prisoners. Tori opened her eyes and stared blearily into the hallway. It sounded like there was another double occupancy cell down the way. Why the hell did they have so many prisoners?

And why wasn’t Deidara one of them?

The new guard was a big man who came right up to the bars to leer into their cell. 

“I heard we had a new girl,” he said, teeth flashing at Tori. “Here, take your water ration.”

He poked the bottle through the bars so that Tori would have to get up and approach him to take it. He grinned down at her, lording this power over her. Across the cell, Kakashi shifted slightly. 

Tori did not want to take the water. But if they weren’t even feeding them, it would be stupid of her to refuse. She stood and took the three paces to get to the front of the cell. 

The guard didn’t move away when she took the bottle. It was thick, hard plastic; probably reusable. 

“Take a sip,” the guard prompted. 

Tori stared down at the water. She’d been well-hydrated when she got in here. Should she just let Kakashi have the whole thing?

“Take a sip,” the guard insisted. 

Tori didn’t want to, but as she raised her eyes to meet the guard’s, she felt as though she suddenly understood him. This man would be the source of her information, no need to break out and snoop around at all. 

“Um,” Tori said, fiddling with the bottle. “The other shinobi…” 

“I’ll give you two more bottles,” the guard offered. “If you drink the whole thing right now.”

Weirdo, Tori thought as she complied. She wouldn’t feel hungry for a bit, at least. The guard watched her intently the entire time, his gaze making her skin crawl. 

The guard did follow through on giving her two more bottles, pressing his face through the bars as he did. 

“Have you had to use the bucket yet?” he jeered. 

Gross, Tori thought, and willed herself to tear up even as she accepted the bottles. 

“You will soon,” the guard promised. 

“I don’t want to,” Tori sniffled. “I didn’t– I didn’t do anything wrong, I promise. I just want to see my friend.”

“You friend?” the guard replied, eyes fixed on how Tori rubbed her nose. “You’re not seeing your friend ever again.”

“He’s strong.” Tori hiccupped. “He’ll break out and come save me.”

The guard’s grin grew even wider. And just like that, Tori had the guard taunting her with all the horrors that were going to befall Deidara and then her, because he got off on humiliating preteen girls or whatever. 

Tori couldn’t be sure of all the details between the dramatic showmanship and threats, but what she understood was this: Kusa was rounding up spill-over from Oto’s demise. They’d been particularly interested in shinobi that had experimental body modifications and jutsu from Orochimaru, of which they had incorrectly identified Deidara as one. They were studying the modifications and keeping other captives to then try out their own attempts to replicate the modifications. 

She even got info on where the experiments were happening: in a temporary lab set up outside of Kusa. Tori supposed that including information about high security labs and the tools inside was supposed to be… scary, or something. She pretended to sob and sob and then when she was getting bored with repeated jeers, begged him to stop. 

He left her crouched in the corner with both bottles of water and promised he’d be back when she needed to use the bucket. 

She performatively let out a few more sobs after he’d left, listening intentionally as he jeered at and berated other prisoners with renewed vigor. What a disgusting man. She should make sure he died during her escape attempt, whatever that may be. 

When she could hear him in the guards’ room, Tori finally dropped her act. She stood and stretched, then caught Kakashi’s eye. 

He raised his eyebrows at her, questioning. 

Tori took a step toward him, and he crossed his legs and straightened up but didn’t flinch. Tori set both full bottles of water next to him and sat down at his side. 

“Nice work,” he said, his voice low. “But what do you plan to do with any of that? If you can’t get out, you’re just going to have a weird pervert watching you now.”

He said the last part with a wince in his voice, like any decent human. Or maybe he just didn’t want to have to see it, trapped in here with her. 

“I have some tricks up my sleeve,” Tori told him, uncapping one of the water bottles. “And I’m sure you do too, Hatake Kakashi.”

[indilaras]

crossdressing haitham x bi disaster cyno, inspired by this post! I also put in some not-so-sneaky references ehe

ID: a drawing of Cyno and Alhaitham from Genshin Impact. Cyno is the only one fully colored; he is blushing and wide eyed, with an exclamation mark and three hearts in pink, purple, and blue around him. Alhaitham is not fully colored save for his eyes, and there are seven of him in various clothes. Unless specified otherwise, he keeps his soundproof earpieces. On the bottom left corner, he is in a dress, with flowers in his hair. Above that, he is wearing a hijab with a brooch, and he is tapping his chin, looking aside. On the top left, he is wearing a sweater, a long skirt, hair clips, and rectangular glasses; he's smiling and has stacks of books in his arms. On the top middle, he has much longer hair and does not have his earpieces, and he is winking; there is text pointing at him saying "wig #1". Below that is him wearing clothing inspired by female Eremites, holding the handle of a hidden weapon. His hair is slicked back. On the top right, he is in a shoulder-less dress and thigh-high garters; he is sitting with one leg over the other, holding a cup of wine. Below that, he is holding a mug with steam coming out of it, smiling and looking up; his earpieces are off, his hair is shoulder-length, and the text pointing at him says "wig #2". On the bottom right, he has on a looser hijab, a long-sleeved long dress, and glasses. He has his hand up, adjusting his hijab. End ID.

[bucknastysbabe]

Mwahahahahaha I had so much fun with this thanks for the request, xoxoxoxo I hope you love it as much as I did! Also I know some of my followers are prob not American so I did The Most Basic lingo because we are the idiots who don’t name stuff normally like the rest of planet Earth

Kink Bingo - Topping from the Bottom

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Chubby!Beefy!Subby!Bucky, Dom nerdy afab!reader, Bucky is a sweet lil bear who wouldn’t hurt a fly but sends men into the ground on a daily basis, Frank Castle is a tired roommate, pnv!sex, overstim, pet names, teasing, creampie, disaster Bucky barnes, college!au, football player!buck, fluffy as HELL

You weren’t sure where, how, or when you ended up in this situation.

To quote the Talking Heads, “Well. How did I get here?”

Except there was no fun song about water flowing underground. There was a very sexy man staring at you in the library who had just said something. You blinked again, fiddling with your pencil. The library was dead quiet per usual.

Bucky Barnes, resident slut, face morphed into confusion, blue eyes piercing. He asked, “Uh, you okay? Did you hear me?”

You cleared your throat and spoke, “Yes, problem 15. The key to research statistics is all in the equa-“

A huge hand slid across the table to close your book. The thud made you jump. Bucky apologized, flush high on his pretty cheeks. He laughed, “No, I don’t think you caught that there, teach.” You blanched, gaping like a fish out of water.

His huge, yet soft frame leaned over the stiff stable, belly indenting against the wood. Bucky popped his dimples with a charming smile. He reiterated, “I think you’re cool— smart and witty. Even though you’re a hermit. I wanted to see if you would come to my place with the boys for some drinks this weekend.”

Your face drained of color, utterly mortified. The memories of freshman year came flooding back. You began to pack your stuff, slamming and shoving away materials. Bucky looked up at you like a kicked puppy. He grabbed your wrist, god he was a gentle giant, “Hey? What’s wrong? No pressure at all!”

You glared up at the stupidly beautiful man and tried to sound strong, but your voice cracked as you informed the ass, “You were there freshman year. Watched me puke until someone took pity. Is that what you want? Bring the lightweight loser for a punchline? Not for me, bye!”

He was there then, same house too. The O-line always passed the same ratty place down. His hair was shorter, body less beefy, less weight but Bucky watched with a sheepish look, elbowing his blonde friend. You yanked out of his grip, Barnes frantically calling after you. Dumb brute was so big it didn’t take much for him to catch up. He looked down, hand rubbing his neck. “Look. I’m not like those dick heads. I should’ve done something. I’m sorry I ever hurt you in the past.”

You stopped, giving him a look, eyes full of tears.

He made a soft noise, pulling you into a warm hug. He reaped, “Oh don’t cry, please?” You didn’t want to admit but it felt like heaven with his soft stomach and huge arms. You warbled, “I don’t know if I can trust anyone, I- I just can’t do that again.”

Bucky rubbed your back and sighed, “I’m an idiot, I offered you out the only way I know how with girls. I don’t have the best reputation.” He took a stern pause. “But I really like you. So we can do whatever you want to and I’ll be down for it.”

You looked up at him in shock, croaking, “Really?”

Bucky grinned, “Yes really.”

A year later the Talking Heads sang in your head again. 

Well, how did I get here?

Your very big, so wonderfully big, boyfriend was between your thighs. His own thighs, thickened with heavy muscle and that cute little layer of fluff quivered themselves. His cock was so hard it was purple, the leaking tip smacking his tummy. Your baby had a dick that would put porn stars to shame. Took about two weeks for you to get used to it. Beside the point, tears pricked at his wide eyes. Bucky’s hands kept their gentle grip but they shook.

He panted like a racehorse, even though you hadn’t let him fuck you yet. You got the poor thing riled up all in the library. Rubbing against him, promising pretty boys like him get to hump and fuck. You had to shove fingers down his throat to get the beefy man to hush.

Somewhere since your bittersweet beginnings, it was discovered James Buchanan Barnes was the biggest submissive, masochistic, certified freak seven-days-a-week slut. He’d made a reputation for making girls limp but the macho athlete truly loved getting ordered around.

He put the fanfiction you’d read to shame. It made everything ten times sweeter knowing your college football playing, big offensive lineman whined like a bitch when you played with his ass. All by his petite nerdy girlfriend.

You say ‘jump’, Buck is asking ‘how high’?

But currently you did want him to fuck you. You cooed, pinching at a soft love handle, “You need me now sweet baby? Can you handle it?”

He nodded in jerky motions, pleading, “Yes baby, I’ll hold it.” His pink lips trembled.

You softly held his gaze as you continued, “If you cum early that’s okay, you’ve been waiting so long. I know a slut like you can’t help it.”

Bucky barked, “No! I mean no- I’ll do it good.”

You leaned back, placing your arms on his built shoulders, pulling the brunette closer. You sighed, “You always do it good Buck.” It came across meaner than intended, your boyfriend’s jaw setting mulishly.

“Come on, come on now bear,” you urged, squeezing his traps. Bucky whined through his nose, huge hand slicking his cock with lube. You were wet enough but usually added extra lube to make everything more comfortable. Bucky let out a pained moan as he entered you. You wrapped your legs around his wide waist to usher the brunette on.

You panted as the blunt tip split your pussy open. Bucky mewled, “Mmm- you’re s-so tight.” You nodded and pressed kisses to the veins pulsing on his neck, the larger man gently lowering himself on top. He’d still get scared of ‘smushing’ you. The thick length of him speared your cunt, and then he was all the way in.

You panted and whined, gasping, “Big boyyy, oh fuck.” Bucky let out a string of unintelligible high noises, whole body shaking at the squeeze. Circling your thumbs at the sweaty base of his head you cooed, “Love that huge slutty cock of yours, mmm, can you feel how tight I am for you?”

He nodded, so overcome he’d lost control over his pitch. Castle would slam the wall from next door.

“Fuck! Babybabyohgod, can I fuck you now?”

You snickered, “I never said you couldn’t.”

He frowned at that, blues looking down in embarrassment. Baby couldn’t help but get a little stupid when his cock was involved. Bucky braced one hand next to your head, the other on your hip and drew back a bit. He watched the slide, scrunching his face in ecstasy.

Slap.

Bucky fucked back in, stuffing you tight with a lurid squelch. You moaned at the feeling of his heavy balls hitting your ass. You goaded him on further, moaning in delight at the friction. Bucky hoarsely groaned, giving you all he was good for. Which, granted, being a division one athlete can allow for a lot to give. If Buck wasn’t so sensitive.

You clawed at his brawny shoulders, crying his name, biting at lips and jaw. That cute little pouch under his chin was especially bitable. Bucky was drooling onto your tits, single-mindedly focused on fucking you. You met him thrust for thrust, rasping dirty nonsense, degrading nasty things.

Bucky whined, “Mm! Baby, oh- hah! You gotta stop, hngh, m’gonna blow.”

You rocked up into his stilled dick, shaking your head with a open-mouthed smile. You breathlessly laughed, “No way bubba, you said you’re gonna do it good. But I got it pretty boy.” You patted his stubbled cheek and writhed on his cock, rubbing your sensitive tits against his built chest.

Bucky whimpered and tucked his teary eyes into your neck, your hand curling around to scratch his scalp. He was barely moving, little thrusts as you worked yourself up and down at a brisk pace. This was your exact reason why you denied Buck’s requests to go to the gym with him.

You whined, “Fuck bear, love you, puppy packing like a stud. Stuffing my pussy so well. Shame I gotta do the work.” You got another agonized moan at that, Bucky attempting to find a rhythm. You squeezed him in warning, digging the blunt tip into your good spot. A big finger came down to swirl at your clit.

You smacked his ass, howling, “Good fucking boy!”

Tears wet your shoulder, sniveling and whining filling your left ear. You drew tighter and more frantic, screwing your eyes shut as pleasure mounted across your body. You slapped a meaty side again and hoarsely yelled Buck’s name, pussy clamping down on his throbbing cock.

He came with a warbling wail, you crying out at the same time. Bucky began to fuck again, you taking it as he pumped through the aftershocks, mewling, “Hngghhh- baaaaby- oh gooood!” You threw your head back and let him pound you, little ‘uh uh uh’ grunts forced out.

The noises were pornographic, bed creaking, Buck’s sobbing, hips slapping, and the slick sounds from your releases mixing. Bucky gasped again, the last of him cum spurting out and he collapsed half on-top of you, whimpering softly.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!,” came the inevitable angry yell of Frank, busily pounding the thin walls.

You smiled at the worn Bucky, cooing, “Did it good once again bear.” He managed to pull you two onto the side, him still sensitive and shivering from the shifting. He kissed you sweetly, blue eyes all gooey and soft. He rasped, “What have you done to me babe?”

You nuzzled his nose, pecking those pink lips. With a smirk you mused, “I don’t know, what do you think big guy?” His brows furrowed as the inevitable post-coital philosophy discussion began.

Same as it ever was, same as it ever was, David Byrne sang in your head.

[helix-enterprises117]

Halo Reloaded: The Spartan & The Freelancer...

In the less-than-sparkling confines of the UNSC frigate Inflexible, the ambiance was about as welcoming as a tax audit. The room's lone light flickered like it was deciding whether today was a good day to finally die, casting irregular shadows over the two figures leaning against opposite walls.

John, Master Chief to those who preferred not to get too chummy, had taken up a position that suggested casual indifference but was really just the most strategically advantageous spot in the room. Across from him, Agent Washington or "Wash" for short, seemed to mirror John's casual slouch. The title 'Agent' always felt a bit ostentatious for someone who spent his formative years tripping over his own feet.

"You know, Chief," Wash began, breaking the silence with the ease of a man used to talking to himself, "I always figured if I met a Spartan, we'd be duking it out over the last piece of pizza, not swapping war stories."

John's helmet tilted slightly—a Spartan's version of raising an eyebrow. "Pizza is a serious matter. But yeah, sharing tales from the trenches wasn't high on my list either."

Wash smirked, his tone lightening. "Glad we agree on the pizza. But seriously, being the underdog? I was practically the poster boy. My squad had a betting pool on how I'd mess up next."

John shifted, the faint whirr of his armor filling the small space. "We all start somewhere. The point is climbing up from that rock bottom. Makes standing at the top feel earned, not given."

"That's one hell of a climb though," Wash chuckled, the sound rich with irony. "My first mission was a disaster. I was known by my squad as the guy who took a grappling-gun to the balls." John’s laugh was a low rumble, almost lost beneath his armor.

"...Yeah, I specialize in the 'accidentally heroic'," Wash admitted, shrugging. "Makes life interesting, at least." John’s stance relaxed as he leaned back, the reflective visor hiding his eyes but not the thoughtful tone in his voice. "It's the unexpected victories, the ones you scrap and fight for, that stick with you. They teach more than any training drill."

"Speaking of drills," Wash mused, "ever feel like they just make up those exercises to see if we’ll actually do them?""Wouldn’t be surprised," John conceded with a grunt. "Half the time, it feels like we’re part of some grand experiment. Which, technically, we are."

Wash nodded slowly, his voice dropping a notch. "And trust... that's the hardest part. I've seen teams fall apart over less than a misfired blaster. But when you find that group, the kind you can trust with your life—"

"—It changes everything," John finished, the weight of his words felt rather than seen. "Makes a soldier into a guardian."

"Guardians with a penchant for causing trouble," Wash added with a wry grin. "Or stopping it, usually by causing more in a different direction."

John’s laugh was more pronounced this time, the sound bouncing off the metal walls. "Sounds about right. Makes for a good story, at least."

The alert from the console chirped, more a reminder of reality intruding on their brief respite. The two stood, their movements a symphony of clinks and clatters, armor meeting armor."

Guess it’s time to add another chapter to those stories," Wash said as he picked up his helmet, the lines of his face set in a determined, yet amused expression."Lead the way," John responded, a note of camaraderie in his voice as they moved toward the armory, their steps in sync. "After all, what's life without a little chaos?"

[steddiebang2024]

in the heat of the summer (you’re so different from the rest) | Explicit | 60k

Author: @strangethetimes

Artist: @xandriumbat

Beta Reader: @steddie_steddie

[Link to fic] |  [Link to art]

Pairings: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Minor Robin Buckley/Nancy Wheeler, Eddie Munson & Nancy Wheeler, Minor Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley, Eddie Munson & the Party, Minor Steve Harrington & the Party, Minor Eddie Munson & Wayne Munson.

Characters: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley, Mike Wheeler, Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, Will Byers, Erica Sinclair, El/Jane Hopper, Max Mayfield, Wayne Munson.

Tags: Post-Season 4, Canon Divergence, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Falling in Love, Sort of Slow Burn, Light Angst, Implied/Referenced Mental Illness, Recreational Drug Use, Underage Drinking, Implied/Referenced Suicide and Suicide Attempts, Implied/Referenced Period-Typical Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Eventual Smut, Top Steve Harrington, Bottom Eddie Munson, Summer Vacation.

Trigger Warnings: Implied/Referenced Mental Illness, Recreational Drug Use, Underage Drinking, Implied/Referenced Suicide and Suicide Attempts, Implied/Referenced Period-Typical Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse.

↳ Keep reading below for a summary!

Around the third time the trailer got vandalized, Eddie had something of a meltdown. Over a year had gone by since his name was cleared, but the people of Hawkins still hated him and the thought of leaving was just that. A thought. It was getting to be a bit too much — suffocating, actually — and he told Steve that he had to escape. Even if only temporarily.

And that was the thing about Steve, he made things happen. More than that, he had a good track record for blowing Eddie’s expectations out of the water. He snagged the key to his family’s lake house in upstate Michigan and told Eddie that it was theirs for all of August.

It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to agree to. Spending an entire month with the guy he had a huge crush on? In a beautiful waterfront cottage, no less? It was a recipe for disaster as much as it was an alluring siren’s song, but Eddie wasn’t really known for his sense of self-preservation.

So, for the next four weeks, he had to try and keep his wayward heart on a tight leash (or risk ruining his friendship with Steve forever). But, through bonfires and bed sharing, through county fairs and karaoke, through sunbathing and skinny dipping, it wasn’t going to be easy.

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Okay, I got several asks about what they all are. So this is every single one of me and my brothers' 81 custom uno cards thus far. Card descriptions are below the cut.

Switch Hands

Draw +10

Draw +5

Everyone Has To Draw +8

Pick A Teammate and +8

Trade All Blue Cards For Another Player’s Red Cards

Reveal Your Cards To Everyone

+20

Take 2 Cards From Someone’s Hand And Put In The Already Played Deck

Make 1 Player Discard Their Cards And Draw As Many Cards They Originally Had

1 Player Discard All Non-Effect Cards And Draw And Many Cards As They Lost

Draw 3-2-1

Draw Color

Transfer Draw Back

Block Reverse

Give 2 Cards To The Next Player

Reverse Skip +2

Double Skip

Black Hole- All Hands Are Shuffled Together & Dealt Back

Steal Next Turn

Draw 1 Effect Card From Next Player’s Hand

Duel- Players Must Select A Numbered Card. Lowest Number +3

Mystery Box- Put Colored Card Facedown, Next Player Must Guess Color. If Incorrect, Next Player Must +2. If Correct, Mystery Box Player Must +2

Recycle- Player Who Puts This Card Down Draws 3 Custom Cards From The Deck

Karma- Nullify Draw Stack, Player Who Started Draw Stack Must Draw 8

Copycat- Copies Last Card Placed

Skip Player With The Least Cards 2 Times, +2 Their Next Playable Turn

Next Player Count The Number Of The New Color, Draw As Many Cards From The Deck

Flip The Top Card In The Already Played Pile, That Card Is The New Start Card

Nothing Happens

Player Chooses A Different Color For Each Player To Discard All Of

Outreach- Ask An Outside Party For A Number, Next Player Draws That Many Cards

U Turn- Choose New Color, Next Player +2, Then Order Is Reversed

Rule Of 2- Declare A Number. All Players Must Add Together 2 Number Cards To Equal To The Number Declared. Anyone Who Fails To Do So Must +2

Season’s Wheel- Declare A Color. Effect Depends On Color. Red: All Players With More Cards Than The Player Must Drop 1 Card. Blue: All Players With Less Cards Than The Player Must +1 Card. Green: All Players Must Swap 1 Card Each. Yellow: All Players Must Draw 1 Card.

Double Or Nothing- Can Reverse & Double A Draw Card. Player Flips A Coin, The  Previous Player Must Guess. If Wrong, The Draw Is Doubled & Reversed. If Correct, The Draw Is Nullified

Reverse, +2, +2, Skip, Reverse

Carousel- Each Player Takes 1 Card At Random From The Next Player

Shotgun- Each Player Puts Down 1 Card At Random From The Next Player

Previous Player +2

Mirror Mirror- All Players Must Match Their Amount Of Cards To The Player

Divide And Conquer- User Can Discard Half Their Cards

Replay- Play Another Turn

Shield- Protects From Effect Card, Passes Effect To The Next Player

777- Choose A Color. Flip A Coin. Heads: Put 7 Cards At The Bottom Of Draw Deck. Tails: Draw 7 Cards

Reverse, Reverse, +1, +1, -2, Reverse, +1, +1

Double Edge- Next Player +5, User +2

Russian Roulette- All Players Select 1 Card. Cards Must Be Shuffled. User Picks A Card From Pile. The Owner Of The Picked Card

You Have To Start A War +5

Pick A Partner. Your Partner Has To Show Loyalty Within 3 Rounds Or +8

+12 Or Answer A History Question That The Player Asks. If Right, +0. If Wrong +12

Quit-Me-Not- If Someone Says They Want To Quit, The Player Must +4 Or Quit

Infinity- Any Card You Say Is Treated As A Color Change Card Rest Of Game

Ditto- Can Copy Any Effect Card x2 As Effective

Endless Supply- Can Make All Cards That Add More Card Double The Amount

Natural Disaster- Make Everyone Including Yourself Draw As Many Cards As You Had

Queen’s Rule- Makes All Whole-Game-Effect Cards Only Last For One More Round

Hide & Seek- Next Player Has To Throw Their Cards Down The Stairs. The Player Can Only Keep The Cards They Can Find After Throwing Their Hand.

Movie Quote- The Next Player Must Recite A Movie Quote. If They Can’t, The Player Must +2

Guessing Game- The Player Has To Guess The Top Card On The Draw Pile. If Correct, The Player Can Discard 3 Cards + The Top Card Of The Draw Pile. If Incorrect, They Player Must +3 As Well As Keep The Top Card The Player Guessed.

King’s Rule- This Card Makes All Effect Cards Not Able To Be Played Until The Whole Game Is Over

Yahtzee- Guess A Color. Take One Card From Each Other Player At Random. If You Take Cards In The Color You Guessed, The Player Who Owns The Card Must +2. If You Guessed Incorrectly, you +2. Discard Other Player’s Cards + And The Color You Guessed Is The New Color.

Fool’s Gold- This Card Allows You To Nullify One Effect Card, But You Have To +6.

Quick Money- Answer One Question Each From The Other Players. For Every Question You Answer Correctly, The Other Player Must +2. For Every Question Answered Incorrectly, You Must +2. 

Traitor- This Card Can Only Be Placed Down If You Have A Partner. This Card Forces Your Partner To +13 And Ends The Partnership.

Taxes- Give Two Each Of Your Cards To The Other Players. In Return, The Other Players Will Give You One Card Each Of Their Own.

Dare Card- The Player Who Uses This Card Can Dare The Next Player To Do Something Reasonable Or Feasible After The Game.

Frogger- Skip Next Player, Then +6 To The Player After.

Ghost Story- All Players Have To Tell A Ghost Story They Know. If They Don’t The Player Must +12

Communism- Shuffle Everyone’s Hands And Distribute Cards Evenly

Happy Birthday- Next Player Draws As Many Cards As Many Cards As How Old They Are.

Snake Eyes- The Next Player Must Draw Double Their Cards. From Now, The Next Player Has Two Decks And Must Play Two Times In A Row

Secondary Colors- All Players Must Play Two Cards That Make A Secondary Color. This Card’s Effect Ends When A Color Change Card Is Played.

Picky- Next Player Discards 1 Card And Draws 5 From The Draw Pile. They Choose Their Favorite Card To Keep And Discard The Other 4.

Number Draw- The Player Who Plays This Card Must Put Down A Numbered Card As Well. The Number On The Player’s Card Is The Number The Next Player Must Draw

Tactical Nuke- Target One Player. That Player Must +8. The Closest Two Players To The Targeted Player Must +4.

Kamikaze- Owner +3 Cards. All Other Players +2

Justice- If The Player Is Targeted With A Draw Card, And This Card Is Placed Down, The Player Who Made You Draw Must Draw The Same Amount Of Cards

Assassination- Target A Player. They Must +5. They Also Cannot Play For 3 Turns.

Judgment- Target A Player. If The Player Has A Wild Card They Must +3. If They Don’t You +3.

Flashbang- Other Players Must +4. Other Players Besides The User Can’t Play For 3 Rounds.

[justanotherbirdbrain-blog]

Hello, I was reading through your posts and couldn’t help but be inspired for a fictional material by some minerals and metals having an effect on the surroundings. If it’s not a chore, could you please provide any real world examples of how some minerals have effect on the environment. Something like affecting the structural integrity of, dyeing, or any other effects on the surrounding rock. Apologies if the question is not well worded or I’ve made an incorrect assumption, I know nothing of geology myself :)

Boy, I am so ridiculously happy you asked me that! It is one of my more favorite subjects! I will break this up into three sections, first to talk about environmental effects (this will include ideas of like mountain shapes, natural disasters, contamination of water, and even how streams look), then we will talk a bit about industry (what minerals are used for what, and how do they effect the people using them), then I will talk briefly about infrastructure before directing you to a documentary series that is old but does in fact explain all of this far better than I ever could hope to. This is kind of an extension of my economic trade and mining posts, so I will try to talk about similar but not the same topics! I feel like for the best results they should all be read together!

Environment: Some minerals that occur naturally are incredibly unstable at the surface, and when they breakdown it can really harm the environment. I am originally from Pennsylvania and a big problem in that area was something called Acid Mine Drainage, which is, in the simplest words, when sulfide minerals (in PA's case, pyrite) break down and lower the pH of the soil and water. This effectively kills most things living in the environment and can even be strong enough to cause skin irritations.

A great idea in a fictional world may be an old mining district that was abandoned and rediscovered with toxic water.

Something else that is small and thought about much less probably is something that happens when you boil water. If you pull well water (or groundwater) and boil it something that you may notice is a white ring form around your pots and pans. This is because your soil or rocks have access calcium and when you boil your water it precipitates out. This is not harmful, but it is something that will vary based off locations, and could effect ones health in a positive way (calcium is a very important nutrient).

But taking a step back from human health, lets look at large scale differences that can be effected by minerals/different types of rocks

The first thing to consider is how can a landscape look? typically when you have metamorphic(excluding schists) or intrusive igneous rocks (granite and whatnot) typically you will see doming, well-rounded mountains vs. sedimentary rocks where you might see distinct layering as some layers are more soft than others.

More mountainous locations, regardless of rock type will have more braided rivers, and places that have lower elevation change will be more meandering rivers. The bottom of the riverbed also changes! in older mountain ranges you would expect to see more metamorphic rocks exposed to the surface as the top of the mountain range has already been eroded, while fresh new mountain ranges might have a larger diversity of rocks within the river. Something I distinctly remember from going to North Carolina for the first time was seeing all the glittering mica in the creek beds there because the Appalachians are a very old mountain range.

Always remember: The rocks in the river reflect what is in the mountain!

But how can this effect how does this effect people? crystalline rocks are typically safer mountains to live in than sedimentary rock mountains, because they have very little variation and are less likely to break across planes of weakness, that said they are usually poorer in resources for older time periods other than for making things like stone for building houses and harvesting silica to make glass. There are of course exceptions to this, but for the most part this is true.

Sedimentary rocks mountains on the other hand are more dangerous in causing landslides and sinkholes, however they are usually rich in resources like clay, coal, oil, and even in some causes be rich enough in metals to be mined for iron. Chert is also a sedimentary rock that is used a lot in Native American cultures to make arrowheads, spearheads, and basic cutting tools, though this is way out of my realm of knowledge.

Industry: I have already hinted at some of these but I will try to talk purely about different things in this section! First lets talk about lead, my Roman empire is the Roman empire collapsing due to lead poisoning. Galena, a lead sulfide, is a rock formed in some sedimentary rocks and in hydrothermal environments (hot water injecting into cold rocks), hydrothermal activity can be present in past volcanic environments, during metamorphism, or even on the ocean floor. These are accessible in many locations is what I am trying to say, and lead is VERY appealing until you know it poisons you. It has a very low melting point meaning it is easy to work with, it is resistant to corroding, and it even imparts a sweet flavor and was used during the Roman empire to sweeten food without the addition of sugar or honey. Later, it was used due to its white color to make one look paler than they truly were because staying inside was a status symbol, added to glass to lower the melting point and increase the time it could be 'worked with' and the added side effect was that it made glass more shiny which then made it popular in jewelry. Lead was also used in paints, and dozens of other things, but it is time to move on.

Lets talk about paint colors that were available based on rocks! Clays and sedimentary rocks typically contained red to yellow hued pigments (think rust and earthy tones), so those colors would be seen more in art in areas dominated by sediments than say, green (unless there is a plant that can produce a strong enough pigment). Metamorphic rocks/hydrothermally altered rocks are more likely to produce colors like greens and blues and vibrant reds. What creates these colors is usually copper and mercury will create vibrant reds.

Scheele's green was a popular green that was created by an arsenic-bearing mineral that killed many people during the Victorian era.

Let's also briefly talk about how rocks could effect cosmetics! glittery eyeshadows, highlighter and other things we use today often use the mineral mica, which is a metamorphic mineral. It stands to reason that having shimmery makeup trend would be more likely in places that could supply it. Chalk could also presumably be used as a cosmetic which is a sedimentary rock, so maybe they could value matted and paler looks?

Another random thing that I have been dying to mention but couldn't think about a post it would fit in but imagine asbestos clothes that was a thing! Obviously people didn't know that it was bad for you at the time, and it seemed a miracle because it would be unaffected by fire and it was FABRIC made from ROCKS. Again, this is only found in places where asbestos is found, so like low temp metamorphic mafic/ultramafic rocks (essentially take the ocean floor and heat it up a little and BAM asbestos).

anywayyyyy, I truly truly believe the results are endless in this regard. I know very little in terms of history, so I am sure there are many others that can add to this in a very significant way.

Infrastructure: This one is probably the most obvious, but in terms of strength in building, different rock choices will be chosen. There is a reason marble is used to make pillars. Though the general rule of thumb is that massive rocks are generally more resilient to breaking, this includes sandstone for sedimentary rocks, granites/diorites/gabbros for igneous rocks, and marbles and quartzites for metamorphic rocks. Foliation or layering in a rock can also be abused like using slate for shingles and chalk boards and schist also for roofing.

The documentary that talks about most of these things: Journey to the Centre of the Earth: Art and Journey to the Centre of the Earth: Architecture. It is an older documentary series but I genuinely love Ian Stewart and all of his geology documentaries. You can also find both of these for free on YouTube I strongly recommend you find a legal version of this!

Anyway sorry for replying late my work has been piling up lately! Feel free to ask anymore questions! Also I didn't proofread this so if there is any grammar issues I am sorry.

[exhaustedpirate]

competitive much?

welcome, friends, to my first attempt (of many?) at smut writing! let's all collectively thank @kmomof4 for making this as satisfying as possible for all of you to read!

rated E | 5634 words

also on AO3

summary: Emma Swan had been pining for Killian Jones for years. Who knew that all she needed to take that next step was having to share a bed with him?

Of course there was only one bed. The universe truly hated Emma Swan. And now, Emma Swan was doomed to share a bed with Killian Jones - the man she’s been pining after for years.

He had been a gentleman about it because that’s who he was - offering to sleep on the floor or find another motel. But it was late, and they had been driving for hours with a few more still ahead of them before they reached their destination. So she had refused, telling him that they were adults and deserved a proper night's rest and she was sure they could keep their hands to themselves.

His smirk told her that he probably didn’t believe her but she ignored it, not wanting to let it slip that when around him she had plenty of experience containing herself. Even if he often made it hard on her, flaunting his chest with his barely buttoned shirts and his legs and backside with the impossibly tight trousers he liked to wear.

Bad train of thought, Emma. Don’t think about Killian’s bulge in tight trousers before you get into bed with him.

Share a bed with him.

She shook her head as she finished her nightly routine in the bathroom. He was likely doing the same in the room and nope, she wasn’t going to think about Killian Jones stripping a few feet away from her. Nope.

Emma cursed herself for her choice of pajama set. Not only was she sharing a bed with Killian Jones but she was doing it in a thin white tank top and sleep shorts. This was a recipe for disaster.

Maybe he’d like what he saw. Her hands ran over her hair, pulling sections over her shoulders and noticing the way goosebumps rose on her chest at the sensation. Would he notice that she wasn’t wearing a bra?

Bad Emma. Focus.

God, what was this man doing to her? They had known each other for years and she knew he was hot, and that his hands felt amazing on her skin and that he was warm when he hugged her and-

Focus!

She took a deep breath and stopped herself from fluffing her hair by gathering it up and tying it with a hair tie instead. Emma walked out of the bathroom coming face to face with Killian’s bare chest. She held back a groan by making eye contact with him. Well, his eyes were several inches away from hers but she wasn’t going to complain at the way he blatantly looked over her body.  

“No shirt, Jones?” She was proud at how steady her voice sounded and she covered her chest with her arms, wanting to do everything she could to make this less awkward.

Her voice seemed to bring him out of his thoughts as he shook his head and finally looked at her, his cheeks reddening. “Apologies, Swan, I didn’t plan to ahh… share a bed with you tonight, so I didn’t bring a sleep shirt.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, nodding at his matching reasoning. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, we’ll just keep to our sides.” She gave a final nod before approaching the bed to pull the covers away.

He followed her to the bed and stood on the other side. “I’m not responsible for what might happen, should you invade my space.” A slow, sensuous smile stretched over his lips, a smile full of danger and promise on the face of a man who, she knew, wouldn’t touch her without her permission.

She smirked in response. “Right, like you could handle it.”

“Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”

Her eyes stared into his, at the desire telegraphed in his stare, at the way his tongue ran over his bottom lip. But no, she couldn’t. They couldn’t. Right?

They were coworkers and friends and she trusted him. What if it went wrong? Yeah, even that excuse was sounding weaker and weaker the longer she stood there staring at him.

But friends don’t share beds and she was sure that this was breaking any and all rules she forced herself to comply with. Truth was, she wanted him. More than wanted him. Had fallen for him years ago and she was… 90% sure he wanted her, too. 

He was waiting. 

Waiting for her.

Not the right time. 

He could plainly see her shut down as they faced each other, his understanding eyes and compliant sigh hurting her more than if he had simply walked away. 

Would he get tired of waiting? 

“Just stay on your side of the bed,” she huffed before she laid down on her side, her back to him, hands trapped under her pillow.

“As you wish.” 

The words echoed in her brain as the bed dipped and the covers fell more comfortably over her. The room fell into darkness when he turned off the lamp on the bedside table. Emma felt the bed dip and move as Killian got comfortable on the uncomfortable bed and waited, waited to hear his breathing even out. It seemed to take forever, but once it did, she laid on her back, watching his moon-lit face as he slept on his side. He looked younger in his sleep. The frown that had been on his face before they went to bed disappeared and his lips were parted, looking so tantalizing she wanted to run her finger across them.

In the silence of the room, she heard the door from the next room open and close followed by the sound of giggling. Of course they had to share a wall with a happy couple. A very happy couple if the loud sounds of kissing reaching their room were any clue.

The springs of the bed next door creaked as the couple likely fell together on it and she felt Killian’s breathing hitch and she closed her eyes worried he’d wake up to find her staring at him. But he didn’t and she waited as his breathing returned to normal. The hand not currently under his pillow lay flat on the space between their bodies, his fingers twitching minutely every now and then.

Emma’s chest was tight and she wanted.

She inched her hand towards his with the sounds of soft moans as background noise until she slithered it under his palm. They had held hands before but she knew this wouldn’t be like any of those other times, not when they were both in sleep clothes and sharing a bed. She inhaled sharply as his hand immediately covered hers, holding it as tight as a sleeping man could.

Their hands fit together like puzzle pieces and her thumb began to caress his skin. She heard him sigh at her touch, his eyes still closed. And she wanted more. Needed more. 

Letting the couples’ noises in the next room inspire her, she slowly moved her body close to his, turning over so that her back was facing him, then even more slowly wrapping the arm she still held around her waist. She sighed deeply as she fit against his warm body, especially when he pulled her closer to him and they occupied the same space on the bed.

His other arm moved from under the pillow to slither under the curve of her neck giving her a different type of pillow. His hand, his empty hand, in her eyesight looked lonely and she used her free, empty hand to hold it. This wouldn’t be manageable for long but she couldn’t bring herself to let go of him, not when she could feel his chest rise and fall against her back, his breath on her neck and the heat of his hands on both of hers.

Emma shut her eyes in contentment. She must have fallen asleep at least for a little while because, when she opened her eyes after a loud thump, she was holding his hand with her two hands, while his free arm was fully wrapped around her waist. His thumb was rubbing her torso in an absentminded manner and she wondered if he was awake.

As she became aware of her surroundings, she also noticed the progressively more passionate noises from the next room - their words of encouragement and moans electrifying every nerve ending in her body. The headboard began thumping on their shared wall making Emma’s imagination run wild. The woman screamed and she felt Killian’s hand grip her hip tightly. Were the same images running through his brain?

She pushed her hips back and barely contained her gasp at the feel of his erect cock against her ass. His grip on her hip faltered as a stuttered moan passed his lips, his obvious desire fighting against his good form that she knew governed his actions at all times. 

But she didn’t want good form. She wanted him.

Her hips moved in a slower rhythm to the thumping on the walls and his hand found her stomach. He clenched the hand she was still holding and she thought he might be asking her to stop, saying no but when she clenched back, she heard a relieved sigh behind her and felt his hand inching up until his fingers touched the underside of her breast. Her breathing hitched at the soft touch and she gripped the sheets with one of her hands, her hips losing their rhythm against his. A groan, louder than the others, his groan, sounded in her ear. The hand at her stomach moved up, cupping her whole breast. An impulsive moan escaped her lips as the rough thumb began to rub against her hardened nipple. 

“Emma…”

Her hips stuttered again against him at the wrecked voice in her ear. A soft whimper fell from her lips as the hand at her breast pinched her nipple before melting into a sigh when his lips began whispering kisses to the skin of her neck.

The sounds coming from the next room grew louder, the thumping faster and Emma followed, a tightening in her lower belly at the unmistakable sounds of pleasure coupled with the ministrations on her body from the man she couldn’t stop thinking about. His lips grew greedier, switching between open mouth kisses and nibbles on her sensitive flesh.

The lovers in the next room climaxed and Emma hoped her moan of Killian’s name had been lost in their screams. But the sharp pinch of his fingers on her nipple and the insistent grind of his length against her told her it wasn’t. His responding moan had her tilt her neck back to give his lips more space.

“I want you, Emma.”

His whisper in her ear had goosebumps rise all over her flesh. Shivers ran down her body as his hand left her breast, slowly caressing her stomach on its way down. Her whole body itched, yearning for his touch. 

“May I touch you?”

She wanted to respond with sarcasm, wanted to tell him that he was already touching her but she knew what he was asking, especially as his pinky inched its way under the elastic of her sleep shorts. Her hips moved, greedy for his touch, but his hand remained unmoving, waiting. He would always wait for her.

“Please…” It was all she could say. She felt as though she would break if he didn’t touch her.

“Please, what?” His lips were on her ear, his teeth on the skin of her earlobe. “Do you want me to touch you?” 

Her nod was vigorous as his ring finger followed his pinky. He flexed his fingers, scratching her skin and fanning the flames consuming her body.

“I need to hear you say it.” 

Her mouth opened as he pulled her earlobe into his mouth, nibbling it and taking her breath away. He pulled her hips closer to his with the hand at her lower belly and she couldn’t think. Couldn’t think of anything else but him and the promises she knew he would fulfill.

“I want you to touch me, Killian. I need you to tou-” 

Her words were stolen from her mouth in a gasp as his hand covered her mound, his fingers running up and down her wet folds. His groan washed over her whole body as he used his other arm to pull her closer to him, their bodies flush from shoulders to hips. His hand found the breast he abandoned and her mouth opened in a low, drawn out moan, her head tilting into his shoulder.

“You’re so wet,” Killian whispered against her ear, his voice sounding completely wrecked, her hands gripping the sheets, wanting more and more but unable to ask for it. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to touch you like this, to feel you like this.”

Gathering the wetness between her folds, his fingers moved up to circle over her clit, her hands shaking in desperation, her breathing quickening at the ecstasy taking over her body.

“You feel so good, Emma. I knew you would,” he continued to whisper, his lips pressing soft kisses on her neck while his other hand played with her breast. His touches were soft, meant to bring her up slowly, to draw out her pleasure. “I’ve dreamed about this, about you, for so long.” His scruff scratched against her jawline as he began to whisper in her ear once more. “Dreamt about hearing you, kissing you, touching you.”

She gasped as his teeth nibbled her jawline, causing a quiet moan to slip out. Her brain was full of him, full of his touch, his words, his voice. But she wanted more. “I dreamt about you, too, Killian. I’ve wanted you to touch me for so long. I-”

Her babbling was interrupted by her loud moan when his fingers pinched her nipple and the fingers on his other hand sped up on her clit with tight circles. He didn’t stop even as she reached back to grab onto his hair or when she interlocked their fingers at her breast. He didn’t stop as she writhed against his hand or when her moans grew louder and louder as her orgasm crested and rippled over her from head to toe. He didn’t stop until she finally came down, breathing heavily against his chest, feeling her fast beating heart against their interlocked hands. She became aware of his lips kissing up and down her neck, keeping her body on edge and desperate for more. 

“You’re so beautiful when you come, Emma,” he whispered in her ear, her hand in his hair less harsh as she combed through the soft strands. “I’ll forever remember the way you moaned my name. May I hear it again?”

Her body shivered as his fingers continued to move slowly and carefully up and down her folds. She gasped each time his rough fingers touched her clit. 

“Killian…” she moaned, drawing it out almost obscenely when he put pressure on the area above her clit.

She’d never forget his responding growl as his lips latched onto her neck. She was sure that he was marking her skin, and her heart raced at the idea of having proof that this wasn’t another dream. But it wasn’t enough. 

She moved her hand to the back of his neck, pulling until he lifted his head from her neck. The grip she had on his other hand loosened as she moved to her back, looking up to find his eyes. She could clearly see fear, worry, and desire battling for dominance. He kept his hand over her mound, unmoving, waiting as he watched her, the desire finally winning out, overwhelming the other emotions in his eyes. The same desire she was sure he could see in her own.

She pulled his head down to join their lips in a slow, passionate kiss. A kiss that served to keep the fire between them simmering as they got acquainted with every corner of their mouths. His hand flexed on her back and Emma arched into him. She didn’t want him to hold back. She needed him not to hold back.

“I need you to touch me, Killian,” she repeated against his lips, her hand grabbing onto his bicep, nails digging into his skin.

She would have to add his responding moan to her memory files, never wanting to forget the desire in his voice. His wet fingers gripped her hip as his other arm wrapped around her body to bring her closer to him before he captured her mouth with his. She let him take the lead, using the hand on the back of her head to position her in the best way to deepen the kiss.

The hand at her hip slid over her ass and she moaned against his lips at the way he gripped it, her leg hooking over his hip in response. She could feel his hard length pressed right where she wanted him. With her leg hooked over his thigh, Emma moved her hips against him, moaning at how good he felt but also at the way he held her tighter against him, their bodies now touching from head to hips.

Kissing him brought with it its own kind of pleasure, the way his tongue caressed hers, the feel of his lips on hers. She wanted more, craved more. Would never be satisfied no matter how long he kept touching her, how long he kept kissing her. She needed more.

Her teeth caught his bottom lip and she pulled carefully, relishing the vibration of his moan against her lips. Her fingers slid into the strands of his hair keeping him in place while her hand found its way inside his pants. He pulled his lips away from her to prolong his moan, the sound washing through her body. 

“Emma…” 

“Say my name again,” she whispered, wrapping her fingers around his length and stroking him slowly. His eyes opened sharply to look into hers and her breathing hitched, the blue gone as the black promised everything she ever wanted and more.

His hand moved under her shorts once more, slipping under her underwear. “Emma,” he moaned and her hand moved in time with his as he slipped his fingers between her folds once more. “Emma, Emma, Emma,” he moaned between kisses to her neck, her collarbones, the tops of her breasts.

“I need you naked, Jones.” 

He groaned and she bit her lip at the lustful sound of it. She almost whimpered at the loss of his fingers, but she moaned instead as he licked his fingers clean, his eyes closing in pleasure.

“Gods, but you taste divine.” His nose rubbed against her neck and his lips followed, laying a kiss on the sensitive skin behind her ear. “I want to taste you.”

Her fingers clenched around his cock, imagining his dark head of hair buried between her thighs putting that talented tongue to work. But his hard length in her hand made her realize what she wanted first and foremost. 

“Next time.” She smirked as his head pulled up sharply to look into her eyes, scrunching in pleasure at the way she tightened her hold on him in response.

“Next time?” he whispered and she could hear the uncertainty in his tone behind the lust, the way he was still waiting for her, still following her lead.

He’d allow her to keep this dalliance as a one-time thing, let her hide from this, from him, in her fear. But she would miss his touch, his kiss, his warmth and the fear that threatened to overwhelm turned into yearning. Deep, burning yearning, stronger than before, now that she knew how it felt to be held in his arms.

“Next time.” She nodded and smiled softly at the awe on his face. She ran her index finger over his slit, gathering the precum there and bringing it to her mouth. She closed her lips over her finger, closing her eyes as well and humming in pleasure at the taste of him. “I want you inside me now.”

Emma bit her lip in anticipation as he grabbed her wrists and trapped her hands on either side of her head. Her thighs rubbed together under his piercing gaze and she tilted her chin to welcome his desperate kiss. Almost immediately, Killian slowed the kiss, surprising her, softening his lips, even as his hips pressed urgently against hers.

He broke the kiss and she opened her eyes to find him watching her, his lust pushed aside. “Are you sure, Emma?”

His thumbs rubbed against her wrists and she could clearly see the vulnerability in his eyes, not sure he could believe her promise of a next time. He needed more. And she wanted to give it to him.

“Yeah.” She nodded, her lips curving in a smile. “I’m sure, Killian.”

She barely finished saying his name before his lips took over hers once more, the slant possessive, branding her as his. He laced their fingers together, and Emma realized this was already far better than any other encounter she’d had before. She wondered if it had anything to do with her feelings towards Killian Jones.

Any contemplation was erased from her mind at the feel of his thigh rubbing against her where she needed him most. “Please, Killian…” she moaned, moving her hips against it.

“I need you naked, Swan.” The grin was clear in his voice even with her eyes closed and she laughed delightedly. 

She missed his hands on hers as soon as they were gone but she moved quickly to pull her top off. He watched her from where he sat back on his heels and an impatient growl burst from him as he pushed his sleep pants off. She did the same, just as impatient as he. She pulled her hair from the band slowly, running her fingers through it to loosen it.

His fingers replaced hers as soon as she finished, grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling carefully but commandingly. She bit her lip then let it go with a moan as his lips connected with her exposed neck.

“Hmm, I love to hear you moan.” She can’t help but let out another one in response to his deep voice in her ear, her hands taking hold of his hips. “Do you like it when I pull your hair?”

“Yes.” A wave of lust gathered in her center at the clench of his fist, pulling her soft strands, the sting of pain bringing her more pleasure. “Do it again.”

His arm wound around her to pull her body against his, both of their breath hitching at the feel of their finally naked bodies against one another. Her hands found the skin of his back, digging her nails in when he pulled on her hair once more. She took hold of his perfect ass, giddy to finally being able to touch what he teased with every tight pair of trousers he wore. He pushed his hips forward, his length sliding against her wet folds, their matching gasps and sighs of pleasure loud in the otherwise quiet room.

The desire in his moan was overwhelming and she was sure hers matched his. Her hands ran up his back as he loosened his grip on her hair. She met his gaze and found an understanding and acceptance there that took her breath away.

“Next time?” 

“Next time.” 

They smiled in unison and this time, she initiated the kiss, melting in his arms as he maneuvered them into a lying position on the bed, his body covering hers. His hips ground against her as he kissed down her neck, his hand finding her breast, his fingers playing her like an instrument.

“Are you clean? I didn’t exactly pack condoms for a work trip,” Emma breathed, pulling on his hair when she didn't get an answer.

“Aye, sparkling.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed as he returned to her neck.

“Me, too.” She answered his unasked question and ground her hips against his length, an ecstatic moan pouring from her lips. “I also have an IUD, so…” He groaned at the implication in her words. “Don’t keep me waiting, Jones.”

“Wouldn’t dare.”

He took a deep breath, obviously aware of the monumental step they were about to take together. He met her gaze as his hand moved down to her most intimate place, his fingers running up and down her folds before two of his long fingers entered her at once. She bit her lip and began to ride them, but she wanted more. Just when she was about to ask, he added a third.

“Please, Killian, please.”

She was babbling, she knew it, and his chest was heaving above her. “Just wanted to make sure,” he mumbled.

Emma held her breath as he removed his fingers and stroked himself once, twice, three times, coating his cock with her wetness. She watched his hand for a moment longer before meeting his eyes. She nodded and he nodded back. 

He positioned his hips against hers, guiding his length through her folds again, with more pressure this time. He was going to drive her absolutely mad, her moans loud every time the head brushed against her clit. “Killian…”

Her hands shook where they rested on his chest when he finally entered her in one slow thrust, her long moan matching his as he dropped his head to her shoulder. He held still for a moment, allowing her to adjust to this new feeling, to his size inside her. Her muscles clenched around him when she was ready for him to move and his groans reverberated against her skin. “I don’t know how long I’ll last,” he whispered, utterly wrecked. “You feel amazing, love.”

“Amazing,” she repeated, barely aware of his words, focused only on the way he filled her up.

He pressed soft kisses to her shoulder as his hips began to move with slow deep thrusts inside her. Her ankles wrapped around his hips as her hands grabbed onto the back of his neck and his bicep. His hips stuttered at the sensation, his teeth rasping against her skin.

“More,” she moaned, nails digging into his skin. Killian gave one hard thrust causing them both to moan loudly. “Yes, just like that.”

He growled and pulled his knees to rest on either side of her hips, the new angle having Emma grab onto his arms tightly. He continued the hard rhythm, his hips grinding against her clit with each thrust, her body shaking each time he found that place deep inside her that made her see stars. It had never felt like this before. So good, so full, so perfect. His arms slithered under hers to grab onto her shoulders, his groan loud against the skin of her shoulder. Distantly, she heard him spouting babbling praise, the squeaks of the bedsprings under her body, and the thumping of the headboard against the wall but it meant nothing when she felt it. Felt the imminent orgasm taking over.

Her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders wanting to keep him as close as possible. It wasn’t enough. It’d never be enough. His fingers digging into her skin was the only warning she had before he spilled himself inside her, his orgasm triggering hers as she clenched around him. Her moans joined his in a decadent display of ultimate bliss. Time stood still and the world held its breath. 

“Fuck,” he sighed, softening inside her and loosening his grip on her shoulders. But she wasn’t ready to let him go, forcing her body to keep him there, keep him close. “Emma…”

She hummed at the sound of her name, digging her fingers in his hair, shivering at the feel of his lips on her neck. 

“Stay,” she murmured quietly. 

His lips curved up against her skin at her request and she would feel embarrassed at her desperation if he didn’t tighten his hold on her just a little bit more.

“I’m not going anywhere, love,” he promised in a whisper against her ear. “But we should move.”

She whimpered in reluctant agreement, drawing it out into a whine when he slipped out of her. He kissed her temple and she tilted her head up, hands on his neck. He chuckled against her lips. 

“I’ll be right back,” he whispered before pressing their lips together again in a quick kiss.

Emma wanted to protest but she could barely move. She only managed to turn her head and open her eyes to watch his bare ass as he walked to the bathroom. She was right, she thought with a smirk, better out of his tight jeans. She bit her lip as she watched him walk back, wet washcloth in his hand.

He grinned at her. “Don’t look at me like that, Swan.” He knelt on the bed, his eyes on hers while he carefully ran the warm cloth on her sensitive area, causing her to shiver and sigh.

“Come lay with me for a bit?” she asked, her hand running languidly up and down his arm.

“As you wish.” 

She let out an uncharacteristic giggle as he huffed in faux reluctance and laid down next to her. Emma sighed in contentment as he wrapped his arms around her, her head pillowed on his chest. She could hear his heart beating under her ear and she felt like she could stay in this moment forever.

“Me, too,” he sighed, making her realize she’d spoken out loud. He really did a number on her. “Never thought I’d have the opportunity, but I always imagined it’d feel like this.”

“Me, too.” She felt him tense underneath her and frowned in confusion. She set her chin on top of her crossed arms on his chest, and watched his wary expression. “What is it?”

His chest rose and fell in a deep breath. “I know we spoke about next time, but I don’t want us to just have this, love. I-” She waited for him to continue. It took a moment, but after a sigh, he spoke again. “I want more, I want everything with you. If you just want sex, I-I-”

She stopped him with her thumb on his bottom lip, unable to watch him worry, or despair, or to feel anything other than the happiness and pleasure they had found themselves in before. She replaced her finger with her lips, placing a soft chaste kiss there that had his arms wrapping tighter around her. 

“I want everything, too,” she confessed, forcing herself to look into his eyes. And when she did, she was rewarded by the pure happiness that lit them up. “I’ve wanted it for a long time but I was afraid.”

“You’re not anymore?”

“I never had to be,” she answered with a frustrated sigh. “I was hiding behind my walls but it made me so unhappy.”

“What made you change your mind?”

She shook her head and bit her lip. “I don’t know. I saw you laying there, so peaceful and your hand was just there, so empty.” She felt his hand clench her hip and sighed at how full it must look now. “I was just tired of pushing my desires aside.”

His smile was as bright as the sun and he took hold of her jaw to lay a hard kiss on her lips, making her moan. “I’m glad you did. I have been waiting for you.” 

She smiled back. “You always did.”

Her hands cupped his cheeks, bringing him up for a passionate kiss, designed to ignite her nerve endings, to bring back that telltale spark to her veins. She hummed against his lips as his other hand traveled down her back before stopping at her ass, his large hand cupping one cheek.

The thumping on the wall above their heads restarted causing both of them to break the kiss to look at it. Killian laughed before looking down at her, his hand squeezing her ass and causing her to wiggle against his touch. 

“What do you say, love?” His grin was dangerous again but now she knew the promises it held and oh, that knowledge made it even more dangerous. “Think you can handle another round?”

“Question is,” she smirked, her thigh rubbing against his soft member. “Can you?”

She felt the warmth inside returning at the glint in his eyes. His hand reached below her ass to run a finger over her wettening folds, before bringing it back up to his lips. 

“Maybe not now, but…” She shrieked in surprise when he quickly flipped them around, her back now against the mattress. “It’ll give me time to properly taste you.” 

She rubbed her thighs together at the darkening of his eyes but he stopped them by forcing a knee in between. Emma bit her lip to silence a moan when he rubbed against her clit, igniting that fire once more. His thumb pulled her bottom lip from her teeth.

“I want you to be loud, love. Can you do that for me?” She inadvertently obeyed when he put more pressure against her most sensitive spot. “Just like that, let’s show them how it’s done.”

Her laugh was interrupted by a moan when his fingers replaced his thigh. “Competitive much?” she panted.

His grin split his face in half as he winked. “Oh, absolutely.” 

Her breathy laughter followed his slow path down her body until all she could see was his dark hair between her thighs and all she felt was his mouth kissing her folds like he would her mouth. Any thoughts of competition flew out of her brain as she moaned and groaned and gripped and ground when he showed her just how talented his mouth really was. 

They won, though.