#maybe I should take the tags off a few items and see what happens

[victorluvsalice]

-->Sales continued above as Alice continued baking below -- though maybe not as smoothly as I'd hoped either activity would go. Smiler had to take a quick break to suck down a plasma fruit and then clean some of the produce stands midway through the day; one of Victor's customers tried to scare him, but did it so incompetently that they both just ended up embarrassed; and Alice's attempt to make a fruit cobbler ended up in an excellent cobbler but also a broken stove jetting flame. *grimaces* Not good! I decided it was about time Alice did her thing on the sales floor instead and directed her upstairs --

-->Only to discover that she couldn't actually greet any customers. She only had the option to tell them to leave. Baffled, I had her go shovel some of the snow in front of the store instead (only right to clear the drifts, and anyway she can always use the Fitness) --

And then, as sales started piling up on the floor, I tried clicking on a customer with her again and discovered she was perfectly capable of ringing up customers. Can't say hi, can help them check out. O.o No idea what was going on there, honestly. Maybe Alice just wanted to keep the social interaction to a minimum. :p

-->Anyway, despite this weirdness, the store remained hopping -- well, whenever it wasn't lagging, that is. I swear, there is SOMETHING about this lot that makes Sims just idle in the middle of their activities for no apparent reason. It wasn't like this when the trio first bought it! Which, of course, leads me to believe that it was filling the store up with products that has made it so freaking laggy. It's not UNPLAYABLE, it's just annoying -- we'll have to see if the situation gets better as they sell more stuff. And then, if it IS a case of too many things on one lot, we'll see what we can do to remedy that. (Though their home lot has LOADS more stuff and never lags like this...)

-->ANYWAY -- despite all that, they ended up having a very solid grand opening! Smiler handled the customers on their own for a bit so Victor could get a quick dinner in the break room and Alice join him for some TV, then they all pitched in to do some cleaning both upstairs and down before shutting the doors at 7 PM! Having sold eleven items (including the stuff I mentioned before, a box of cheese, another box of canned tomato sauce to Agnes, a box of apple jam jars, a “Rosey Disposition” flower arrangement, and a deodorizing scent) for a total profit of $3,807! Though again, it's not about the money -- they have plenty of that. It's about providing San Myshuno with good fresh food off the farm, and themselves with a way to use up all the produce from said farm! I mean, that greenhouse alone produces a LOT...

[11cupids-tarot11]

SHORT! What does your Future Spouse want to tell you at this moment?

1 -> 2

3 -> 4

Cupid's Master-List

Cupid's Services

Kofi Tips- Buy me a Strawberry Boba Latte! I love you guys ♡

On-Sale Items: 18+ Channeled Love Letter from your Future Spouse.

PayPal and Cash app payments only!

Cash tag- minnieplant3

Paypal- janellec03

————— ୨୧ —————

Pile 1- Ten of Wands, and Ace of Wands.

Messages: "I know that we have a soul connection."

"I sabotaged our connection because it was too intense."

Hi pile 1's! I want to say I feel heavy self sabotage energy from your person, I intended to only pull two tarot cards and four Oracle cards but your person insisted on just two Oracle cards and no more , nothing else would pop out and if it did, it fell to the floor which meant I should put it back. My cat also interrupted my readings twice pouncing and trying to play with my cards lol. Your person feels kind of reluctant. I feel a bit of silence on their end, like maybe if you tried reading pac's recently on your future spouse but found nothing resonated as it usually does, it's so hard to explain but I feel like your person is purposely blocking their energy from you maybe. Take what resonates!! If it doesn't, let it fly 🕊️

So your person's been working hard and they want you to know that, maybe that's why their energy has been so dull lately? Like I feel like if you know your person's energy you definitely picked up on this, or maybe you're just now realizing but your person wants you to know it isn't on purpose, they have a hectic life right now, I feel like they've been running around crazy, staying at work extra hours, rushing to meet deadlines. This person is working hard, but they truly believe it's best for the right now, they know it'll pay off soon!

This person has gotten a burst of energy recently, they feel very motivated right now to something, they're busy pursuing their dreams finally, but I get the feeling this is something that just happened for them recently, they got an idea or something and now they're following through with it! They could be a very creative person, they could make art, or music, something in the creative field.

Red could be significant? This person has Fire in their charts, could be a Aries, Leo, or Sagittarius.

♡ Love you!!

-Cupid 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.

————— ୨୧ —————

Pile 2- Six of Wands, and Four of Cups.

Messages: "I want to hold you."

"I let people manipulate me into ghosting you."

"I want to kiss you."

"I'm scared you will reject me."

Hi my pile 2! I kept saying "your person" instead of future spouse so it kind of makes me feel like a few of you know of this person and have been involved before, but have gone through some sort of separation as of now.

So I feel like recently your future spouse has gone through a period of triumph. They've accomplished something very important to them, I almost feel like your person was overwhelmed and they could be a bit of a perfectionist, but they're so happy they feel like they can finally get a goods night sleep, have more time in their schedule now, whatever it might be I feel like this accomplishment is opening doors for them to many great things.

With the four of cups I'm getting your person has many opportunities being thrown at them right now, career wise but I also feel like in their love life as well. They've removed themselves before they can make a decision, though. They've been sitting on this discussion, but I feel like they've finally made one. I feel like it has something to do with you, crazy enough. Your Oracle cards give me the vibe that this person could be in your circle and they miss you like crazy, something happened between you two that pushed you apart though, it could've been another person but your future spouse has finally made up their mind, they know the kind of relationship they want to pursue with you now, they're giving some of those cups back? Like they don't care for every opportunity they see at the moment, they know what they want, career wise, romantic wise, I feel like they're very stable right now, so if it's not worth it they're not going to pursue it.

♡Love you!!

-Cupid 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.

————— ୨୧ —————

Pile 3- Five of Cups in Reverse, and The Wheel of Fortune.

Messages: “I let people manipulate me into ghosting you.”

“I’m afraid of commitment.”

“I regret what I did to you.”

“I’m on my way to you.”

“I need you.”

“I want to reach out to you but I don’t know how.”

Hi pile 3! So I feel like this person is dying to reach out to you crazy enough, you could've recently stopped seeing this person because of some drama between your social group maybe. I feel like this person could've been listening to their friends too much about the relationship instead of keeping it between the two of you to talk it out like they should've, something along the lines of that. This person wants you to know they've been thinking about you like crazy, they miss you.

Your future spouse wants you to know they're going through a moment of lots of heavy emotions, they regret something they've done in the past. They feel very torn over this and they feel like they can't heal from it until they approach it head on, so that's what they're doing. They're taking the appropriate steps to fix whatever weighing on their heart, they want peace and to find closure more than anything I hear, they see what they've done is wrong and they've learned so much from this lesson.

I feel like this person is hoping for the wheel of fortune to take it's course. I think this person is confused, doesn't know what to do so they're hoping that the universe will help out. I feel like this person is wishing for you, they're trying to manifest bumping into you randomly, they really want a moment of your time but they're just so unsure how.

♡ Love you!!

-Cupid 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.

————— ୨୧ —————

Pile 4- Seven of Cups, and Ace of Cups.

Messages: "I don't want to be toxic anymore."

"I want to hold you."

"I fantasize about you."

"I've been working on myself and I'm not the same as I was before."

Hi pile 4! Last but not least!!

I feel like this person has been working a lot on their shadow side, they've taken a deeper look at themselves and there's something about not liking what they've seen so they decided to do something about. I'm seeing this person like a new plant that's been planted, watered and fed and now it's growing, only your person did this all themselves lol.

So I feel like right now your person is being faced with a lot of things right now, maybe it's too many work assignments or they're trying to complete so many things at once, they're just very overcrowded and it's time for them to take a step back, it might not be good for them to overwhelm themselves with so much right now and I think your person is aware of this and that's why they're telling you obviously lol.

I feel with the Ace of Cups this person wants to offer you something real, they want a very good relationship with you but also a friendship. This person doesn't want me to go on about how much love they want to give to you but the Ace of Cups and their Oracle cards make me feel like it's a lot. I feel like as soon as things cool down in this person's life there's potential you two could meet now that this person is open and available for a relationship. I feel like your person isn't gonna beat around the bush, they're gonna come in super romantic and ready to be with you, your very first conversation could be planning your first date lol.

♡Love you!!

-Cupid 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.

————— ୨୧ —————

[powerfultenderness]

lord powerfultenderness, I don't know how to fully picture it but can we have neighbor könig doing grocery shopping with y/n? Please!~

I swear I saw a post somewhere that said König probably makes bank. And Sugar Daddy König hc born/accepted. This man will spoil you if you give him the chance (and then idk wreck you later?)

Either you were oblivious to the looks strangers gave you, to the way women quickly turned around and went down different aisles, or you didn’t care. It was, in fact, the latter. This big menacing looking guy beside you practically cleared a path wherever you wanted. Busy aisles you’d normally have to do trick maneuvers with your cart? Cleared out when he looked at other shoppers. It was amazing, really.

You stopped and looked up at the shelf, the item you wanted on the very top and if you stretched out…you still couldn’t reach it. Even before you could pout and try again, König reached over and plucked the box of snacks off the shelf and dropped in the basket. 

Maybe it was the way his eyes crinkled a bit, but you could tell he was smiling at you. “Those are car snacks.” 

“Car snacks?”

You nodded and continued to push the cart down the aisle. You’d deviated from your shopping list so much that you were now just going up and down aisles to see if there was anything you needed.

“You know, snacks you keep in the car for emergencies. Like, getting stuck in traffic, or on the side of the road while waiting for a tow truck…or lost…” 

“How often do you get lost?” He laughed, shoulders shaking as he tried to keep his laugh at a reasonable indoor level.

“It was just the one time! My GPS wasn’t working!” It wasn’t your fault downtown was an impossible maze!

“What did you do?” 

“I had a snack and figured it out.” You gave up and went home, but he didn’t need to know that. 

Though he could probably guess with the way he was side eyeing you. You knocked your hip into his side (and he didn’t budge at all!) “What do you say to pasta for dinner?” 

He titled his head, “you’re making dinner for me?”

“Yea, I want to do something nice for you for helping me out.” 

König beamed at you, though you couldn’t see behind his mask and you were currently looking at one of the shelves. “I will eat whatever you cook.”

You laughed, it sounded so weird when he said it like that. “Alright, pasta it is.” 

On the way to the checkout, you happened upon a display of clothing, mostly blouses and tee shirts, but some printed leggings as well. “Ooh, that’s cute.” You stopped and picked up a strappy sundress printed with your favorite flowers. “And my size!” You cheered to yourself as you looked at the tag. You flipped it over to check the price tag then set the dress back on the rack. “Pssh, not that cute.” 

You looked at him just as he turned away from the dress you liked. “Hey, can you wait in line while I run and get my prescription?” 

He nodded and took over pushing the cart as you handed him your debit card, “just in case it takes too long.” 

It was a good thing you handed him your card too! There was a bit of wait while your prescription was transferred to the new in store pharmacy. You half debated whether or not you should just leave to pick it up another day, but you already missed a day and didn’t want to throw off the effects. 

By the time you had your medication, König was waiting for you out front. “Sorry about that!” 

He shook his head, “no problem.” And handed you the receipt and your card back. 

You giggled as he loaded the bags in almost one scoop into the back of his truck. Your car was currently in the shop and he very quickly offered to help you out in the meantime. 

“Thank you so much!” You smiled at him once all of the groceries were sitting on your counter. 

“Anytime.” He answered simply.

 “Still up for dinner tonight?” 

He nodded, “of course.” 

The little short answers, no hearty laugh included, were weird. But maybe he just had enough company for a few hours. “Alright, I’ll pop over later then?” 

“Goodbye.” He nodded again and quickly left you alone.

Weird…

Whatever. Maybe he’ll feel better once he…oh! 

You pulled out one of the very dresses you thought was cute, but too expensive, from one of the bags. König’s doing? You checked the receipt and it wasn’t listed. He…bought it himself? And hid it from you? Suddenly the way he was acting nervous before he left made sense. 

-

König’s stomach flipped and his face burned when he opened the door later that night. You were standing in front of him wearing the dress he bought. “You look like an angel.” 

You smiled and spun around, the dress flaring cutely as you did so. “I can’t believe you bought this! Thank you so much! But, let me repay you?” 

“No. Have dinner with me?” 

You giggled, you were already having dinner with him! “You sneaky man! Come on, let’s go!” You then grabbed one of his hands and started to pull him out and towards your flat.

“Wait. Let me lock up.” He fished his keys out of his pocket and locked the door with one hand, refusing to pull out of your touch. 

“Oh. right!” 

“You didn’t lock up, did you?” 

“What! It’s just right there!”   

König was laughing again as he followed you to your home, a dopey smile you couldn’t see lighting his eyes 

[More neighbor König]

[carlsdarling]

From Dusk Till Dawn

Carl and Y/N exploring an abandoned strip club... Bit of a plot, then sex. Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, oral (female receiving)

Tags: @lilyvaleska your request

You and Carl lingered boredly on the dusty road that led through the small town. There wasn't much happening on this scavenging trip - you had encountered a few walkers, but they hadn't posed a challenge, and now the main street lay completely deserted. There were a few stores - a pharmacy, a gun store, a small grocery store, and a kitchen supply store. The others were busy looting these places, and there wasn't much for you and Carl to do. Except to load the looted goods into the cars. "Look for antibiotics," you could hear Siddiq's voice from the pharmacy.

Carl yawned. "This could take a while," he scowled, fingers hooked in his belt, leaning casually against the car. His long hair fell into his forehead. It was hot, the sun was burning, and his shirt was already showing damp patches under his armpits.

"I'm so bloody hot," you grumbled. "Can't we go somewhere more shady?"

Carl looked around. "Over there, the bar, maybe?" he suggested. The front of the bar looked a little strange; it was painted in black and red, and the windows were taped with vinyl so you couldn't see inside. "From Dusk Till Dawn," was the name of the establishment. Hesitantly, you approached the entrance. Carl went in first, with his gun raised and securing in all directions. "Looks clear," he then announced. In the semi-darkness, you roamed the barroom. Here, too, the furnishings were odd - there were fluffy armchairs and discreetly separated alcoves; also a sort of stage with a pole. Carl headed for what used to be the bar, where quite a few dusty bottles littered around. "Jack Daniel's," he said delightedly, swinging one of the bottles. "Want some?" He had already spotted two glasses and poured them both full.

You chuckled. "What is this place, anyway?" you asked, glancing around and sipping your whiskey.

"Uuuum," Carl said awkwardly. "I think it was a strip club." Your mouth opened in shock. Carl emptied his glass. "Should we take a look over there?" He pointed to a few doors at the very rear of the establishment.

As it turned out, there were the restrooms, a storage room (with even more alcohol), and two strange-looking rooms. In the first room were several shelves of various sex toys - latex costumes, whips, masks, dildos and similar stuff were piled up. Carl grinned as he picked up some of the items. "Oh my God," he laughed. "Just take a look."

"Ah, I'd rather not," you rebuffed. "What's in there?" You pointed to the second door. Behind it was a room with a huge bed in the middle. The walls and ceiling of the room were completely mirrored. There was also a chair, and in one corner was an tipped-over box that contained condoms and towelettes. You spun around and looked at your reflection in the mirror as Carl caught you, hugged you, and pressed you against him, kissing you eagerly, his hands touching you under your top. "Carl," you squeaked, "what are you doing?" You had been together for a couple of weeks and had also had sex a few times, but always in your room or Carl's.

He peered over at the bed and then smirked as he took off his hat. "It would be something special to do it here," he whispered lustfully, licking your neck so that you shivered. " Are you up for it?"

A forbidden tingling sensation spread through your body as you nodded bashfully. Carl grabbed some condoms from the box and tossed them on the bed, then started undressing you. "What if someone walks in?" you asked uneasily.

"Wait," he pulled away from you and shoved the chair under the doorknob. Then he approached you again, his flanell and shirt dropped carelessly on the floor. You undid his belt and jeans, exposing him. Carl was already so aroused that his cock looked quite irritated; precum was dripping out and he was proudly standing erect. Carl's balls were slightly swollen. "Look how horny you drive me," he sighed, pressing himself against you, his hands roaming over your naked body. In the mirrors around you, you could see each other from all angles - Carl's hands sliding between your legs, and how you stroked his neck, and also how he pressed his pelvis against you in demand, rubbing his hard one against you.

Soaking wetness flooded your pussy, and you grabbed Carl by the hand and directed him over to the bed. It was covered with a sheet of rubber, and the material felt unusually cold against your skin. You were both so excited by now, though, that it didn't bother you - moaning, you rolled around on the bed, Carl burying his head between your legs to eat you out. "So wet," he moaned between kitten licks as you tugged on his hair and arched your back.

"Carl," you then pleaded. "I'm ready for you, please fuck me. Now." With glazed eyes you looked at him, trembling with desire.

Carl fumbled hastily with the condom, and the sight of it was just making you hornier. Finally he mounted you, and you willingly spread your legs for him as he now gently penetrated you and groaned. "It's so good," he murmured and began gentle thrusts, his breath hot against your ear. In the mirror above you, you could watch Carl moving on top of you, his sexy slender body, his back muscles tensing as he pounded into you, his firm ass. And your own hands stroking him incessantly, moving to his buttocks, animating him to rail you harder. Your fucked out face, cheeks flushed, lips parted.

Carl turned his head to look in the mirror next to the bed, moaning loudly at the sight of you with your legs wrapped around his slim hips, writhing ecstatically beneath him. He intensified his thrusts. "Oh, baby," he gasped. "I cannot hold it much longer. Are you cumming?"

"Yes," you whimpered, "Oh God, Carl, yes." Your pussy tightened even closer around Carl's cock as he brought you over the edge, and that led to Carl now cumming as well, thrusting into you moaning excessively as he rode out his orgasm and shot his load into the condom.

Dripping with sweat and breathless, you stayed lying together afterwards, kissing, until Carl got up to get some of the wet towelettes so you could clean yourselves. "I think we should go back out," he said then. "Not that they're searching for us." You picked up your clothes and tried to adjust your hair halfway. Your faces were still passionately flushed.

As you stepped out into the street, Daryl was leaning against one of the cars. "Where the fuck have you guys been?" he wondered. "Rick was already getting worried, he's been looking for you guys."

"Uum," Carl held up a half-full bottle of whiskey. "We found this."

Rick came over. "Carl, what are you doing?" he scolded angrily, snatching the bottle from Carl and tossing it into the back seat of the car. He sniffed. "You've been drinking," he then accused Carl. "You know how dangerous it is not to stay sober on a scavenging trip."

"Yeaaah," Carl groused defiantly. "It's okay."

"Get in the car," Rick snorted angrily as Daryl grinned.

[flowery-mess]

Noah meeting you at your work (sales assistant in retail)

Noah is a tall man, that's a fact

And finding good fitting jeans for him is really hard

He always went to Zara or Bershka or any other basic clothes shop

He always managed to buy jeans that were at least his length, but had to tie them in the waist

So he decided that visiting a specialized shop with jeans, where someone would help him and he didn't have to try on 50 jeans he chose himself, is a great idea

So on his off day he went to his local mall and found a little jean shop

He noticed you straight away, he saw you talking with another man about what colors you have in the type of jeans he chose

He looked around for a bit, but then you approached him with a smile and 'hello, how can I help you?'

You asked, but you already knew what he's looking for

Well, he didn't know what he's looking for (because most men don't fucking know)

He just told you he need jeans that fit nicely and are long enough for him

You were thinking about slim fit, 30 or 31 in waist and 34 or 36 for length

You gave him few pieces to try

Every time your fingers touched his you felt something in your tummy

He kept staring at you, when you were explaining types of jeans you have

That means he didn't really listen what you were saying

When Noah went to try what you handed to him, you made your way behind the cash desk where your colleagues started making fun of your slight blushed cheeks and how you two looked at each other like teenagers

They were pressuring you into giving him your number or ask for his

But you found it unprofessional and were scared of rejection

You went to check with him if the size and type fits

When he came out of the fitting room with the jeans on, you felt something in your tummy (or maybe lower) again

He came in with sweatpants shorts so you didn't see his legs and ass before

But with those jeans hugging him in the right places you couldn't stop staring

To be honest you stare at everyone's ass when they try jeans, that's part of the job, but looking at this handsome man's ass felt embarrasing

He tried different sizes, types and colors and he chose three pairs to buy

You two kept smiling at each other and kept stealing glances

He paid and then left the shop

Your colleagues were making fun of you for the rest of the shift, because you kept day dreaming about Noah

You two were too lost in each others eyes that neither of you noticed that Noah gave you wrong size that he later paid for

He noticed it back home

And he was embarrased

He didn't know if he should come back and exchange it for the right items

He thought about it for a few days, but after he asked Jesse for the 10th time for an opinion Jesse said 'Mate if you don't go back there tomorrow, I will, and I'll make sure she never forgets who you are.'

Which meant he would go there and embarras the hell out of Noah

So the next day he came back like a little puppy

'I'm sorry I took the wrong size when I was here on Monday.'

You didn't mind that, you were happy he came on the day you were at work

You said no worries and helped him find the right size

This time your interaction was more smooth, with some small talk

When you did the exchange on your cash register, he apologized for the 10th time

And before you thought about what you're going to say, you said 'It's no problem, it happens, but if you insist on apologizing you can take me out.'

For a few seconds you both stood there like 🧍🏼‍♀️🧍🏽

'I'm so sorry, that was really inappropriate, I'm sorry.'

'If you insist on applogozing, you can let me take you out for dinner.' he used your words and turned the situation around with a smirk on his face

You said yes, also said 'I'm sorry' few more times

You two exchanged numbers and set up a date for your dinner

Your colleagues were laughing behind the corner at you interaction and then just said that at least you two will have a cute story for your kids

Taglist: @somewhere-diamond @reyadawn

You are the first ones that asked to be tagged in something I post, THANK YOU💗

[maiyasuniverse]

Shopping

Loki x Plus Size! Reader

Summary: Loki takes you shopping against your will, or not.

Shopping. An olympic sport you had never been quite the fan of. Too many disappointments and unflattering clothes.

Guess what Loki wanted to do today. Take you shopping because you constantly complain about having nothing to wear.

"I really don't need to Lo. Look at all the clothes I have, more would just be too much. Plus, I don't have the money."

"You don't need the money because I have it and your wardrobe is like one tenth of my own. My closet should never out weight yours, what kind of man would I be to not spoil my beloved?"

"You'd still be my Loki."

"I would be an imbecile now, come you don't need your purse or wallet I have my card. It's really surprising to me that gold is not used here as it is on Asgard. But, I've obtained the American currency."

He held the card up proudly between his index and middle finger.

���Lo.” You had to fight the smile creeping up on your face. “How did you get an Amex card, you’ve been on this planet for 4 years. I’ve been here all my life and I can’t even get one.”

“Never mind all that, what I have is yours so now you do have one of these little things. They say it’s the best. You take this one, it’s had more on it.”

“I don’t want to take your money, do you understand how credit works? This can’t be good.”

“I am a prince, and I’ve read plenty I understand. Plus, I have Stark, I know how you humans are with money, you work hard for it but I have enough, more than enough. We have enough Y/N.”

“Just a few stores okay?” You couldn’t believe him, you weren’t upset but more so impressed. You thought he would want to go back to Asgard but he’s doing things to stay, with you.

“We’re going to more than a few Dove, Stark told me about all the popular stores, and designers.”

The drive to the mall wasn’t short, at all, he drove to all a mall full of high end designer stores, some you haven’t even heard of.

“I think we should start with your jewelry, I know you don’t like to splurge but don’t look at a price tag. I want to get what you like.”

The first store he pulled you into was Tiffany’s, every so often you would peek at the price of the jewels and sit the back down. While Loki on the other hand seemed to be picking up some of the most outrageous things. Tennis Bracelets, and necklaces, and especially loved ankle bracelets. You knew that from the ones you had at home, he loved putting them on you, and he enjoyed taking them off even more.

“I don’t think I need a anklet in every size love, one’s enough.” He just nodded his head and agreed, this happened throughout the rest of the stores. Some casually telling you they didn’t hold your dress size, while you were slightly disappointed you enjoyed shopping with him. You didn’t feel bad, not about your size or money it was peaceful.

Loki had to take a few trips to the car because it was too much to hold, but most of them things were his. The drive back was beautiful bribing past the beaches and homes.

“You didn’t grab the things you wanted. Why is that?” He sounded genuinely curious, while you guys were shopping he looked but his kept his distance for the most part, looking around, trying to give you space to move around.

“I just didn’t see much.” His eyes rolled, before looking back at you.

“You picked up plenty of beautiful items, I even seen you pick up that necklace you’ve been looking at online. You put it back.”

Maybe he was paying more attention to you than you thought.

“I just didn’t like it as much when I saw it.” That wasn’t the truth at all, the necklace as beautiful but totally out of the budget you set for yourself.

“Maybe we’ll find something better.” The ride back home seemed shorter. A lot shorter.

“We’re back already?” Loki just smiled at you.

“I think you were tired from the ride you slept the whole way back.” He looked tired, you kind of felt bad because you knew he only drove to show you he could be normal.

“Will you show me the things you bought for yourself when we get inside?” Now he was beaming.

“Oh pet, none of this is mine. These are things I picked up for you, as well as things you put down and the things they didn’t have in your size are now. In your size!” You couldn’t help but beam at him,

“Really, I normally hate shopping but I really did enjoy spending time you. I always so Lo.”

“Yes, really, I told you before I want to give you everything you want. There isn’t anything you have to long for because you’ve given me what I’ve been wanting since I was a child. I’ll put the universe in your hands if I could.” He pulled a long box Tiffany Blue box out of his suit jacket and unraveled the bow. “A necklace barley suitable for the neck of my lady.” He kissed it. “You’re even more beautiful when you’re smiling like that Y/N. That’s why I do these things to make you happy. I love you pet.”

You felt your whole body heat up at his words, you two had never exchanged those words.

“You love me?” You repeated somewhat stunned.

“I do, painfully so.”

“I love you, painfully so.” You had been wanting to say it for so long it was like a weight coming off your shoulders.

[lilith-little-world]

Character ai is a mess. I went back to it and lost myself in it again, but I'm back now but idk for how long. So I'm gonna like speedrun all of my writing and editing for this and the 2nd chapter. Cause holy shit, I'm gonna be hella busy in a few months. Also found out I have a small and harmless heart condition...yeah so this month been crazy.

Also made a little drawing since I was gone for a while. Hopefully I’ll be back with weekly updates now I’m off of character ai and started to take meds for my heart.

I Saw You Once In a Dream, Maybe Pt 9

Is it too late to kick him out? He stares up at you and smirks. You can feel your face get ready as the embarrassment hits. You can't be seriously asking for him to tag along.

You might as well beg for him to come.

“Can you please, come with me? I would appreciate it, if you can. I'll even buy something for you.”

It took everything in you to stare back at him. The urge to smack him increased when his smirk widened.

How the fuck did you two got married in the future?

“Oh, of course, I will come along. Especially when you asked so nicely.” He stands up and heads to the front door, giving you one last glance.

You sigh and try to calm down. Ever since running into him, your day has been…well you can't even describe it. Was it bad? Good? Meh?

You lock the door and catch up to Monkey King, who was waiting for you on the sidewalk. He gives you a soft smile.

“So which way are we going?”

“There's a small market nearby. It's just a short walk, 5 minutes tops.”

You walk off and try to block out any thoughts of how you prefer that smile on his face.

Monkey King nods and follows you.

“So what are you planning for dinner? I'm not much of a cook but I can help!” He stares at you with that same soft expression.

What the hell happened?! Why is he acting all calm and sweet all of a sudden?

You continue to ignore your thoughts and how your heart was fluttering.

“I don't know, I guess we'll find out when I buy the groceries. I'm not much of a cook either. I just fall asleep and skip dinner for most nights.”

“I don't think that's healthy for a human.” He mutters. You can see he wanted to say something more.

“Maybe, but I never had a reason to make dinner. A snack or takeout was enough.”

“So why not tonight?”

“Well…” You felt nervous and embarrassed. “It's been a while since I had someone over at my house so I just thought…that maybe I should do something different- something special.” You didn't need to see your face to know you were blushing. You wanted to scold yourself for getting all flustered for no reason yet all your thoughts stopped when you glanced at Monkey King.

He stares at you with wide eyes.

“You're cooking dinner because of me?” His eyes seem to shine like stars. Beaming with fondness and affection. “Looks like someone is falling for me.”

“What?! I just met you!” You nudge his shoulder. You wanted to get mad or at least annoyed but you just laughed. Monkey King laughs with you as he bumps his shoulder with yours. “Sneakily” holding your hand. Intertwining his fingers with yours, his grasp firm.

You smiled at him and held his hand back. Leaning on his shoulder as you both walk to the grocery store.

Even though you two spent an hour there. You enjoyed his company. Monkey King, helping by grabbing items or just joking around and having fun. What had always been a chore for you, felt fun when he joined along.

Okay, maybe you're starting to understand why you married this idiot.

Also, you managed to buy a little more than usual since he could carry a lot of things. That was a huge plus for you, since you refuse to use your car for anything. Does that thing even work? Oh, wait, pretty sure you lost the key to it and are too lazy to get a new one.

“Thank you again for helping to carry the bags back. You can place it on the counter.”

“You bought a lot of things, how empty is your fridge?”

“Shhhh, we don't talk about that. I bet you don't even have a fridge, so don't judge.”

“There's literally nothing in here.” He said placing a few items in the fridge.

You blow a raspberry at him and put the refrigerated items in the fridge.

“I told you I usually eat a snack or takeout. I hardly cook.”

“Is it because you don't know how to cook? How worried should I be, when you serve me my plate?”

You roll your eyes.

“If you're so worried, then I won't serve you anything.”

“Hey now, I said, I would be worried but that won't stop me from eating it. Edible or not, you're serving me food you made! No way I'm passing that opportunity. Maybe I can pretend, my darling spouse made me the best dinner after a long day of work.”

“Ha-ha, very funny. Are we really going to roleplay being an old married couple or what? We barely met, Monkey King.”

“Wukong, you can call me Wukong.”

You raise a brow at him.

“Alright, Wukong. So we are on a first-name basis now huh?”

“I mean-” He glances away, but you can see his cheeks turning red. “I really want to have a relationship with you and it'll be weird having you calling me by my title.”

It was weird to see him so…embarrassed and flustered. Throughout this whole day, he has been teasing you. Maybe there were a few moments when you saw him more softly. You just laughed and ruffled his fur in his head.

“I guess you're right about that, so Wukong it is then. Now put on a show we can watch while I cook. Nothing fancy or crazy, just some regular easy and fast food.”

Wukong chuckles as he heads to the living room.

“Alright, fine, but no complaints about what I pick.”

You put away the groceries and left the ingredients out. Once in a while, glancing at the tv to see what Wukong was searching for. You head to the trash can to throw something away when you spot the stuffed toy.

A part of you felt bad for throwing it away but another part of you felt embarrassed that you even bought the toy. What would Wukong think? Would he tease you about it or be hurt that you threw it away? That's if he found out. I wonder what will be the consequences for this?

[naviesweloveyou]

paring: seohyunxfem!reader

warnings: wax play, blindfolding, mommy kink, degradation, praise, after care

let me know if i missed anything!!

tags: @tinyidle

You knew it was a dumb idea to test Joohyun all day, but you kept doing it. Sneaky texts here and there, a photo of your cleavage, or a quick shot up your skirt. Just little things that would catch her attention. Everything was going well until you got the dreaded text from her. "Be on the bed when I get home, no excuses!!" You look up at the clock on the wall to see how much time you have before she gets home, about two hours. You go to take a shower, forgetting that on Tuesdays she gets off early.

You don't hear the door bang against the frame or the slam of her bag. what finally pulls your attention is the sound of the bathroom door opening. "Where are you supposed to be?" She asks teeth clenched. When you don't answer, you feel yourself get pulled out of the shower. "I asked where you were supposed to be?" she asks again, hand sliding up around your throat. "On the bed" you whine out, not looking in her eyes. "Look at me" She growls out, tightening her hand. Your eyes shoot up to meet hers, seeing her brown eyes go black. With no hesitation, she pushes you back onto the bed, pulling her shirt over her head. "My stupid baby just had to act like a brat, huh?" She says, sitting on your lap, grinding down slightly. "what do you have nothing to say? you get to act like a whore while I'm at work, but when I come home you act like you're so innocent?" You do nothing but whine, thrusting your hips up for some kind of pleasure, knowing that she's in complete control.

"Mommy, please? Touch me?" You mumble, looking up to catch her eyes. "Mommy will fuck you when she wants to. Actually, I wanna try something with you" She says, climbing off of you. She disappears into the closet before walking about with a few things in her hands. Letting them roll onto the bed, she walks off again. You sit up slightly to look at the items, a blindfold, a few candles, and her favorite strap. She comes back in with a cup of water and a washcloth and sits them on the table. "What? I might drop a candle" She chuckles, seeing the look on your face. "What is the candle for?" you ask. "Mommy wants to see how much you can handle. What's your safe word baby?" She asks, knowing the answer.

"Generation" you squeak out, excited for the play that was about to happen. Seohyeon nods as she tells you to get undressed and put your clothes in the hamper. You scamper to get back on the bed and get ready for Joohyun. Looking over at her, you see her getting out the lighter. "Mommy is going to use a little bit of the wax before she covers your eyes that way you don't get too scared, okay? Roll onto your tummy." You nod, rolling to lay on your stomach, preparing for the first drops. Feeling one hit your back, you wince, the feeling unusual but not bad. You feel it start to harden in place and sigh. " It feels good mommy," you say. "Okay, roll over for me princess," She says softly. You roll onto your back and lay still, waiting once again for the drops of wax. One lands on your nipple and you yelp, back arching. Joohyun waits for a second to see your reaction before doing it to the other nipple. "Mommy please" You scream out, back arching again.

"Please what baby? Please more? Okay," she says, tipping the candle again, letting a bigger drop of wax land on your stomach. A chuckle leaves her lips when you moan loudly, eyes glued shut. "Aww does the little slut like it?" She asks, dripping more down your stomach. "Maybe mommy should have done this before. You're dripping onto the bed. Such an eager slut. Are you ready for mommy's cock? Huh?" She waits for a response, and when she doesn't get one, she drops more wax on you. "I asked if you wanted mommy's cock princess. I don't have to give it to you, you know?" "Please! I want mommy's cock to please" You scream out, hips humping towards the air. She pulls away to adjust the strap on her waist, pulling it tight. Climbing to straddle you, she places the blindfold on your eyes. "Don't be scared to use your safe word okay?" she says, tightening the cloth. After hearing confirmation, she flips you over and runs the tip of the strap up and down your folds. She pushes in slightly as she tips the candle again. Hearing you scream makes her smile, and push in further. Shallow thrusts are accompanied by drops of wax rolling down your back. You feel as if she's painting, using your back as a canvas. You hear the spark of the lighter and feel the drip of more wax. "The red looked so pretty, but the black looks better" Joohyeon moans out, bottoming out in you. As you thrust your hips back, you feel wax drip on your ass. "Mommy, hurts" you whine, grinding back into her. "If it hurts why are you being such a slut for it?" She asks, slapping your ass where the wax landed. Moans continue to fall from your lips, mixed with hisses as the wax lands. Joohyun finally puts the candle out and grabs your hips. "Don't make any noises, understood?" She asks, slapping your ass again. "Yes, Mommy" you moan into the pillow. With her hands on your hips, she slams into you. She brings a hand up to push your back down farther, pushing your ass out. "Stay like this bitch" she moans, continuing her assault. Screams get caught in your thought as you try to behave, shoving your face into the pillow, biting down. You can feel the tip of her touching your cervix, her hips going at a bruising pace.

Close to cumming, you turn your head to look at Joohyun, a look of pure concentration on her face. "Is my baby gonna come? Huh? Are you gonna come on mommy's dick? Does it feel too good in you? Stupid baby can't take any pleasure without acting like a slut." She says, bringing her finger down to rub at your clit. "Such a messy cunt isn't it? You're leaking everywhere princess." All of her words and touches felt too good, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. "Mommy! Come please?" You whine out, mouth dropped open. "Go ahead, princess. Come for mommy." She whispers in your ear, leaning over you as she continues to slam her hips into you. The screams flow out as you come on her strap, her thrust slowing down again. "Mommy no more" You mumble, scooting your body from by her. "Mommy's all done," She says, pulling out slowly. She takes the washcloth she brought in earlier and wiped your legs clean before laying you on her chest.

"Do you need a drink baby?" She asks, holding up the cup of water and sipping from it. Seeing your soft nod, she holds it to your lips as you sip some before laying your head back down. "Do you want mommy to get the wax off of you now?" She says, rubbing your back. When you shake your head no, she chuckles before kissing your forehead. "Do you just want mommy cuddles right now?" "Yes mommy" you sigh, cuddling closer to her.

[ema0rsully]

Nicktoons Unite: Turning the Tables (Wattpad)

3: Mayhem

Danny POV

Jimmy said he was going to return to his lab to check if he can track down Spongebob. Instead of using magic to go to his lab, Jimmy insisted on using his portal just to check if it was still in good condition. Timmy tagged along with him, and I decided to hang back to take a few breaths. After a while, Cozmo came through the portal and said "You should come to see this, it looks bad". One thing I know about Cozmo is that he has no filter for whatever he says.

I followed Cozmo through the portal and into Jimmy's lab. I saw Jimmy busy typing something into his computer, and Timmy was waiting for me by the portal. "What's wrong with him?" I asked when I saw that Jimmy looked stressed. Timmy was about to reply when Jimmy blurted "I can't track him. I don't understand. I made sure that each of our communicators had a tracker so I can track our last locations for any emergencies, but Spongebob's communicator is offline!!! How is it offline?!? It should always be ONLINE!!! That's how I coded it!" Jimmy ranted. "Well maybe it went offline somehow, cant you just switch it back on again?" Timmy asked, Jimmy, rubbed the temples of his head as if Timmy asked a stupid question.

"No, Turner. I sophisticatedly built this tracker to always be online. Nobody can switch it off like a puny iPhone or Android." he ranted on and on about engineering stuff and how it works. I knew Timmy wouldn't understand it in the end and we were wasting time. I cut in between them and asked "So if it's supposed to be online all the time, why is it offline? What do you think could switch it off?". Jimmy stopped his rant and turned to me, he has a nervous expression this time. "The only way to turn the communicator offline is by dismantling it or breaking the chip inside it".

A moment of silence once again, I could tell Timmy was getting anxious about our missing friend. We know Spongebob can be destructive, but he was responsible enough to know that the communicator was a key item and wouldn't mistake it for a ps4 controller. "Awh, c'mon guys. Look on the bright side, now we've narrowed the possibilities of where Spongebob is!" Cozmo suddenly spoke. Wanda turned to her husband, "how many possibilities are there?". "Two. Number one, he could've mistaken the communicator thingy as a frisbee and threw it across the field. Number two, he could be held captive somewhere or be laying in a ditch-" "COZMO!" Wanda yelled. I turned to Timmy and Jimmy with an expression that said 'this was no joke'.

Our friend and team member was missing. He hasn't communicated with us in a week and that's odd behaviour coming from Spongebob. We knew we had to check on him. Jimmy nodded and quickly made his way to the portal. He entered the coordinates but nothing happened. "Uhh boy genius, open up the portal" Timmy yelled from behind. Jimmy started checking the power box and transmitter. "There's something wrong with the portal" Jimmy suddenly said, "uhh but it looks just fine-" "No, Fenton. Not this portal, HIS portal!" he corrected me. "What? I thought you made that thing super strong to hold Spongebob surrounding water temperatures or something" Timmy questioned, "I know I did Turner, it's the strongest portal out of the three of us. I made it compatible with its environment. Something strange is going on here.." Jimmy added.

Jimmy stood up and turned to Timmy, "do you think your Fairy Programs can teleport us to his dimension?". Timmy nodded and wished us away to Spongebob's dimension.

Jimmy POV

I'm gonna kill Turner for his stupidity, luckily his Fairy Programs made us able to breathe underwater as soon as they saw us struggling to breathe. "You need to warn us before you keep doing that," Danny said, Timmy just grinned "C'mon relax. You guys will get used to it. Look, we're.. here...?" Timmy trailed off. We gazed over at where he was looking and saw what looked like Bikini Bottom but was destroyed and in ruins. "How is there fire underwater?" I questioned when I saw the burning Bikini Bottom sign. "Let's not question that now. Our primary goal is to find Spongebob" Fenton said. He was right, we came here to look for our missing friend.

We slowly made our way towards the town. It was total mayhem. Some fish were fighting each other for a tire, children were crying, a guy was banging his head onto a building and a bunch of worms were chasing a group of fish. If I'm not mistaken, Spongebob clarified a few weeks ago that worms and snails and equivalent to dogs and cats. This explains why one worm that was chained to a fence was barking at us. "What happened here?" Fenton asked, I don't even know what to say. Spongebob always described his town as a harmonious, colourful and joyful town. This was everything opposite of it.

     Suddenly, a fish that was dressed similarly to a news reporter jumped next to us. "Breaking News! Looks like three ugly and hairy squids came to visit Bikini Bottom. Why did you decide to come to Bikini Bottom young squid?" the news reporter asked as he almost shoved the microphone into our faces. I looked over to who he was supposedly reporting to, but no one was there. "Uhm, sir. Who are you talking to?" Danny asked as he looked around for the cameraman. "Im talking to you of course! Now tell all the folks why did you decide to visit Bikini Bottom when the town was at its lowest?" he asked as he pointed to the invisible audience. "There's no one there" Timmy bluntly said, the news reporter took a good look at each of us.

     "Wait. Now that I look at you, you guys don't exactly look like squids at all..." he just now realised. This time I spoke, "We're not sir, we're here on a mission. We haven't heard from a friend of ours in a long time and we decided to visit him to see if he's alright" I explained. His eyes widened, "A friend? You haven't heard from him in a while you say?" he asked. I nodded, "We lost contact with him a week ago" I added. His eyes grew wider, this news reporter knows something. All news reporters are fishy. "That's the same time Bikini Bottom fell into mayhem..." he explained, then he recited every little detail that happened from last week until now. I thought only Spongebob did this when he tells stories, but now I know.

~✨🖤🌈

[emperorsfoot]

Fic Idea, FREE TO GOOD HOME!

(I was gonna throw this up here with no tags to ensure that no one would read it, might orphan later, idk)

Summary: Earth is not livable anymore. The plan was to just get the family off world and safe. Bruce was content to die in Gotham. Bruce wanted to die in Gotham. The family had other ideas.

When the ship became unusable, the plan changed to just getting them into the escape pod. Bruce was content to die alone on the ship. Bruce still wanted to die. Again, the family had other ideas.

Fic under the cut:

This was not the death Bruce planned for himself.

Sitting alone on an empty spaceship. The failed life-support making it a race between the freezing cold and the lack of oxygen to see which would kill him first.

Bruce planned to die in Gotham.

Ideally, Bruce would have liked to be gunned down in the same alley his parents died in. There was a kind of narrative symmetry to it. To end his story in the same way, in the same place it began. Like bookends. Batman was born from two bullets in a filthy alley, that was how he wanted to die.

With a grunt, Bruce gathered his blanket tighter around him. The quickly dropping temperature was going to win the race to kill him. Bruce already knew. After he sent Dick away with the others, there was no one left he needed to share air with. There might even be some breathable oxygen left long after Bruce’s frozen corpse was mummified by the ship’s dry air.

He glanced at his watch.

It wasn’t even one of the ones he liked. It was some fancy, artisan, luxury timepiece he only had because Brucie Wayne was expected to wear the hottest fashion items, and keep up with the trends. Bruce only took it with him because he was wearing it when Alfred knocked him out to make sure Bruce left Earth with the kids.

The watch was still set to Eastern Standard Time; it was still set to Gotham’s time.

In Gotham the time was a few minutes past 3:30 in the afternoon. Damian would be just getting out from school. Alfred would be sitting in traffic on his way to pick him up. Tim would be in his office at Wayne Enterprises, but his attention for work would be flagging and he’d be watching fan vids for whatever game was his new hyper-fixation on his office computer. Dick would be swinging by the clock tower with afternoon coffee for Barbara, maybe they’d make dinner together before Oracle parked herself in front of her monitor array and Nightwing hit the streets.

Bruce shivered and wondered what Alfred was doing right now. Without Damian to pick up from school. Or Tim to remind to eat and drink water. Or Bruce to… manage.

Alfred was supposed to be the one to escape with the family. Bruce planned to die in Gotham. Bruce wanted to die in Gotham.

He glanced at his watch again and waited for the freezing cold to take him. Bruce never really decided if he believed in an ‘afterlife’ or not, but if such a thing did exist, it would be nice to see his parents again.

…

When Bruce woke, he wondered if he was dead and there was an afterlife.

And it was boring!

He was enveloped in warm energy. Almost as if he were floating in a pool, except the pool was full of light not water. It seeped into his skin and chased away the hypothermia. He inhaled and his lungs filled with oxygen. The pain in his joints was almost gone and old injuries seemed not to bother him as much anymore.

But his parents weren’t there. Neither was Jason. If an afterlife were real, it should include them. If his afterlife had him alone, floating in a (admittedly comfortable) void, then Bruce did not want it. He would choose his own afterlife. One that did include Thomas and Martha, and Jason.

Bruce began to struggle, trying to propel himself somehow in this void of warm light.

Somewhere, on the other side of the light, someone said something in a language Bruce did not understand. Some exclamation of alarm.

“What’s happening? What’s wrong?” That sounded like Dick’s voice.

“It appears he has regained consciousness and is rejecting the healing matrix.” Answered the first voice, now speaking English.

“Ugh. Of course he is.” That sounded like Tim.

Were they just on the other side of the light? Could he get to them?

“May I have permission to sedate him?” Asked the unknown voice.

“Will it be safe for a human?” Dick asked.

At the exact same time that Tim very decisively barked, “Do it.”

Then everything went blank again.

…

When he woke again, Bruce was laying in a bed.

Soft plush sheets over a firm mattress. Luxurious in a way that conveyed wealth, very similar to what Bruce had in his own bedroom at Wayne Manor.

He stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling. Blue and white and glassy, like ice. Or crystal. Not any kind of architecture he was familiar with. An alien ceiling.

What fresh hell did he just wake up to?

No sooner had this question crossed his mind, then the door opened; the crystal of the wall sliding away.

Moving quickly, Bruce rolled out of the bed, placing the mattress between him and the door as cover. He peered over it to see what entered. What kind of captor was holding him?

It was Dick.

Dick walked through the door. Closely followed by Tim and Damian, and a small hovering robot of an alien design Bruce was unfamiliar with.

“I think he’s feeling better.” Dick laughed.

Bruce paused. If Dick felt safe enough to joke around�� but then, Dick always could laugh down even the most dire of situation, Bruce looked to Tim and Damian for cues.

Their expressions were unreadable.

That’s not to say they were impassive or guarded, but that there was so much going on, on their faces that it was impossible to decipher.

Damian looked annoyed mostly, which was also his resting expression. But underneath that was a conflicted apprehension. Like he was waiting to learn the terrible price of Bruce being saved. Of all his children, Bruce assumed Damian would adjust to leaving Earth the fastest, since he was so young and (presumably) adaptable. But Damian cycled through so many emotions in their time in space that Bruce just did not know where his son landed in this situation.

Tim mostly looked satisfied. Also resigned and at peace, but mostly satisfied. He did something. Whatever it was, Tim got his desired result. Now he was prepared to face the outcome of that action.

The thing that was now strange about Tim were his clothes.

Since living on a spaceship for some time, they each at some point all gave up on both regular clothes and vigilante uniforms. All of them had been living in their pajamas for months. Bruce was used to seeing Tim in sweat shorts and an oversized tee-shirt. When the ship’s life-support failed and Bruce sent them away in the escape pod to the nearest planet, they were all wearing their uniforms. Tim had been wearing his Red Robin costume.

Now, Tim was dressed in a layered fabric, draped over a skintight body suit. On his chest, framed by the layered drapes of the fabric was a shield, like a triangle with two corners cut off to make it a pentagon. Filling the pentagonal shield was what looked remarkably like the letter S.

Calmer now, Bruce stood from behind the bed. “Brief me on the situation.”

Dick opened his mouth to begin his report.

But Tim was faster.

“Our status is overall positive.” Tim began. He was using his clinical detective voice, making him sound detached from the situation. Unaffected by it. No big deal.

Which told Bruce that whatever he’s woken up to, for Tim at least, it was a very big deal.

“This planet is called ‘Krypton’ -yes, like the noble gas- and it’s atmosphere is close enough to Earth’s that we can breath comfortably.” Tim continued. “The locals are also humanoid in appearance, nearly indistinguishable from us, actually. When we landed, the first responders thought we were some of their own and tried to help us.”

“They figured out real quick that we were aliens the moment we spoke.” Dick cut in. “Apparently, the whole planet speaks one language and the moment we started speaking English they realized we’re not from around here. Krypton has an isolationist policy. They’ve achieved space travel more advanced than our own, but they don’t even talk to their next closest neighbor in the same system. After they realized we were off-worlders there was kinda only a couple of guys left who were willing to help us.”

“But you don’t have to worry.” Tim said quickly. “I managed to cut a deal that would allow us to stay here, andwe were able to go back and save you.”

Bruce did not want to be saved. “Thanks.”

“Absurd!” Damian shouted. “They’re both being absurd! Father you have to stop this! Drake didn’t ‘cut a deal’, he sold himself!”

“What!?” Bruce’s eyes snapped back to Tim, giving his strange alien clothes a more critical examination.

“Damian!” Dick reprimanded. “He just woke up! Don’t confuse him!”

“It’s not confusing!” Damian continued to shout at all of them. “Drake bartered himself as a bride for that idiot-“

“You’re misrepresenting facts!” Tim cut him off. “And Kon-El’s not an idiot.” Back in that clinical and detached tone, Tim clarified: “I got married.”

Bruce just stared at him.

Tim placed a hand to the pentagonal shield on his chest. “Instead of wedding rings, people wear the glyph of the House they’ve married into- the, uh, family crest -this is pronounced ‘el’ which is their word for ‘star’, but spelled this way with an S in the middle instead of a figure-8, it also means ‘hope’, which is one of their virtues.”

Tim was giving too much unnecessary information because he was nervous, unsure of Bruce’s reaction to the news of his marriage.

There was a beat.

Bruce looked down at his watch to see what time it was in Gotham.

[da-gamingojichan]

Robooty's awezome itager sex fanfic (AIDS EDITION)

PREAMBLE: you all may know my hit fanfiction on the ao3.... but i mentioned in the tags theres an aids edition where practically all the dialogue has their accents completely horrible and inaccurately written out. the very last bits dont have that but its because I was fighting for my life against sickness and the school chromebook to finish the fic when i made it okay shit happened. ill link the ao3 version thats #normal and what you should read if ur gunna read this shit. but for the robootyling that begged me on mai blog to post the aids edition.... this is for you ❤️

LINK TO NORMAL ONE

PREAMBLE OVER. SEX COMMENCE!!!!!

Germany nervously thumbed the note cards in his hands as he awaited Italy's arrival. The man blushed as he skimmed over the contents he had copied down from The Beginner’s Guide To Sex For the Hard-Hearted German on said pieces of paper the night earlier. He shifted the note cards to face more inwards towards himself, despite the fact he was alone in the hotel room. And also that if anyone even were to steal the note cards it would take them at least five minutes to decipher what was written down in his microscopic neat handwriting. Nervously, he fiddled with the edge of the ski mask on his face.

Yes, he had a ski mask on his head for the past twenty minutes. Germany had realized that even thinking about the event to come made his entire face flush a noticeable red. He couldn’t even imagine how blushed he’d look during the actual activity itself and decided that sort of thing was much too shameful to show Italy, so he found a solution. Wearing a ski mask on his face would be the perfect fix to make sure his lover wouldn’t see all the blood in his body rushing to his head when it’s supposed to be going to his… vital regions.

He also realized that he would probably make all sorts of embarrassing sounds and maybe even get so overwhelmed he’d attack Italy by instinct once they got down to business. So to combat this he also procured a duffle bag that sat next to the bed with duct tape, rope, and a knife to cut both items with. The duct tape would be perfect to put over his mouth to make sure any strange sounds he would make would become inaudible, and the rope could be used if he felt that he might need to be restrained to protect his husband.

He also had a yak tranquilizer in there too.

Just in case y’know?

Sure it may be a bit strange, but Italy probably wouldn’t even find it noticeable after listening to Germany’s explanation and adjusting to it all. At least that’s what Austria said when he consulted him on the matter. Apparently he and Hungary did that sort of thing all the time or something.

The blonde country sighed as he tucked the notecards into his pocket and fiddled with his hands while listening to the clock tick by. He suddenly focused his eyes on said clock and squinted.

“Vait. Vat ze hell?,” he thought, “Zat clock iz vun quarter of unt second off! I must fix it!”

The country quickly stood up from where he was sitting at the edge of the bed and brought the clock down into his hands as started to tinker with it. He had momentarily worried about Italy arriving while he was adjusting the clock, but decided that it would be fine, he needed something to get his mind off of what they would be doing together once his husband arrived. Instead he decided to recount what had happened to bring him to the hotel room in the first place.

It all started two weeks prior on Germany and Italy’s anniversary. The German had as always agonizingly created a meticulous plan for Italy to ruin immediately. Although this year had been a surprise since the brunette ruined Germany’s plans not by his usual antics like flashing his dick in a restaurant and getting them kicked out or getting distracted by street cats a few too many times, rather he’d told Germany that he made their plans all by himself for a change.

Now Germany could have told Italy that he spent weeks creating the itinerary for the day already and would receive nothing but understanding sprinkled with bits of praise from the Italian for always being so prepared. But the moment he saw the earnest look in his husband’s eyes that showed he really did try his best making the plans for a change this time, all notions of following through with the reservations he had made flew out the window.

It was fine, sometimes sacrifices had to be made for the greater good, especially the greatest good which was accepting Italy’s displays of affections. No matter how frustrating or unpleasant or downright humiliating they could be at times. Besides, few canceled reservations was still infinitely better than the time the brunette uploaded on his official country of Italy account a post captioned “pasta in the shape of Germany’s anatomy” with a rather… uncouth, but delicious looking picture attached. Not to mention how Italy later begged the referenced country to reblog the photo onto his own official country account.

He did reblog it of course.

Anyways, Germany was rather excited to see what Italy had in store for him. Even though he knew the plans would not be as elaborate or well thought out as his own usually are, he still highly anticipated seeing what his husband prepared for him.

But how was he supposed to expect that after a day of a surprisingly well thought out and romantic anniversary date that the Italian planned to bed him?!

Like seriously! He had already mentally prepared himself for kissing and hand holding and possibly even a heavy make out session before snuggling in bed– but definitely not going all the way! Sure it might have been because it was specifically their hundredth anniversary they were celebrating, but that still is moving a bit fast isn’t it!?

The worst part was that the way the German realized that his husband wanted to have s… se…

…coitus. With Him.

Was when during their make out session the Italian palmed his lover’s dick firmly in his hand through the man’s pants only for Germany to suddenly suplex him out of sheer battle instincts.

The taller man quickly snapped out of it and helped Italy up before grabbing an ice pack from his fridge for his head. Forgetting completely about Italy copping a feel after effectively giving his husband a concussion on their anniversary night, he apologized profusely for the wrestling move as he asked if he was alright. The brunette was only slightly dazed since his brain was already so damaged that a hit like that barely did any harm to him at all. Yet he still stayed silent and kept his head lowered as tears began to pool into his eyes.

Germany started to panic, but before he could get a word out the shorter man lifted his head to make eye contact with him and asked with the seriousness of a man on death row, “Germany. Am I-a rizzless?”

The German did not know how to respond to that. He merely gaped at him for a moment before sputtering out, “V-Vhat are you talking avout? Of courze you have rizz!”

Italy bore his gaze into his lover’s eyes. “Then why… why…,” he trailed off.

“Why vhat?,” Germany asked, panic now replaced with confusion since he now knew the Italian wasn’t badly hurt.

Italy trembled as he brought his head back down before surging upwards and yelling at Germany with a hint of desperation, “WHY HAVE WE-A NEVA BANGED?! I KNOW YOU’RE NOT TE ASEXUAL JAHMANY! I’VE SEEN HOW YOU CUT OUT-A PICTURES OF MAH HEAD AND PASTE IT ONTO THE BOHDIES OF ALL THE PEOPLES IN YOUR PORN MAGAZINES! AM I-A JUST NOT YOUR BODY TYPE? ARE ANEMIC BOYS LIKE SWEETZERLAND MORE YOUR-A STYLE?”

Meanwhile, in a house far away from the two other countries, Switzerland sneezed.

“VHAT!?,” yelled the German, leaning back from his lover’s outburst, “VHAT ARE YOU TALKING AVOUT ITALY?!”

“ONE HUNDRED YEARS WE’VE-A BEEN MARRIED AND NEVER ONCE HAVE YOU EXPLAINED WHY WE DON’T GO PAST KISSING! AN ITALIAN LIKE-A ME CAN ONLY GO SO LONG WITHOUT ANY-A ACTION! I USED TO HAVE AT LEAST THREE GIRLS-A NIGHT! NOW I’VE BEEN OVER A HUNDRED YEARS ABSTINENT,“ Italy cried as he threw himself into Germany’s arms, “do you know how-a bad that is for someone like-a me? My soul is degrading Jahmany. MY SOUL! Is it-a because you don’t like my body? You told-a me about how you think of-a me during your monthly scheduled jack off sessions! Just tell-a me why Jahmany– why!”

Germany was stunned beyond words. Italy’s indecipherable speech was something that the man had become fluent in for years, but the Italian had spoken so quickly and frantically that even he had to take a moment to process what exactly had just spat out at him at rapid fire.

As the man fully processed what his husband rambled out a flush rose up his neck to the top of his head. He looked down at the teary eyed brunette snuggled in his chest and quickly proceeded with damage control.

“n-NO! Italy it’z not like zat at all!,” he quickly reassured, “u-uhm I love your body! It’s not displeazing to me at all! I especially vike how your torso haz vun arm on each side! And-and how ven you open your eyez I can see your vhites in zem! The reason we haven’t… done things… like zat yet is uhm… vell I haven’t exactly zhought ve’d be doing zhose activities anytime soon…”

He paused as he downcast his eyes, looking away from the brunette for a moment.

Before he decidedly gave out a long exhale and mumbled under his breath, “vut it’z not vike I don't VANT to…”

The Italian abruptly paused secretly motorboating Germany’s tits once he heard the man’s barely audible confession. In an instant, his tears receded into his eyes (in a very frankly disturbing manner, since tears should not be able to do that; you know how Hetalia’s animation budget gets sometimes) and he immediately looked up towards his lover as he broke into an excited grin.

“REALLY JAHMANY?! FOR-A REAL-SIES?!,” Italy shouted as he lunged towards the German’s face, “YOU WANNA █████████████████████ AND THEN ████████████████ TO YOUR-A █████████████ SO I ████████████████████████ THEN I █████████ ALL-A OVER YOU AND DON’T STOP EVEN WHEN YOU █████████ AND THEN-A WE BOTH █████████████████████████████!!!!!!”

Germany snapped his eyes back to look at the Italian as he sputtered from all the profane and lewd things his husband had just shoved into his mind to imagine. He could feel his head steaming as he made a few choked noises trying to figure out how to begin to respond to something like that until he finally gave up. He sighed in defeat before he averted his gaze again and hesitantly mumbled, “Ja.”

Italy immediately glomped the man as hard as he could, making Germany fall backwards slightly as he let out a startled yelp.

“OH JAHMANY I’M-A SO HAPPY! YOU’LL REALLY LIKE SEX JAHMANY I-A KNOW YOU WILL I’M REALLY REALLY REALLLYY GOOD AT IT! I-A MAY NOT BE ABLE TO FIGHT FOR SHIT BUT I-A DO KNOW MY WAY AROUND-A PERSON’S ASSHOLE! OR WELL– A PRETTY LADY’S ASSHOLE, BUT YOU’RE A PRETTY MAN AND-A EVERYONE HAS AN ASSHOLE SO I’M SURE IT’S-A BASICALLY THE SAME! I’M SO SO GLAD JAHMANY! I’M-A SO GLAD YOU DO WANT TO BANG AND I’M-A SO GLAD MY BEAUTIFUL BODY IS-A NOT JUST IRRESISTIBLE TO EVERY-A WOMAN ON PLANET EARTH, BUT ALSO IRRESISTIBLE TO YOU TOO!,” he excitedly rambled into his husband's ear, “EVEN WITH MY-A WEIRD PENIS!”

Germany instinctually reciprocated the hug and patted Italy’s back as his head tilted downwards into the other man’s shoulder.

“Ja Ja. I do,” he muttered with embarrassment tinging his voice, “even vith your… unique penis.”

Italy made a content “ve~” and further snuggled into the German’s hug. A silence stretched as they mutually enjoyed each other's embrace.

That is until Italy grabbed Germany’s balls again and got suplexed immediately.

Italy let out a surprised, “VE-” and Germany made a panicked noise as he immediately released the other man and picked him up to sit him down in his previous spot. The taller man fumbled to grab the previously discarded ice pack while his husband sat dazed for slightly longer than after the first suplex. He still came back to his senses astonishingly quickly though, since getting multiple concussions in one day was just another Tuesday for the Italian.

This time though, the blonde was the first one to speak.

“VAT ZE HELL VAS ZAT?!,” he angrily scolded, “VHY DID YOU DO ZAT?? I SUPLEXED YOU LITERALLY TWO MINUTES AGO FOR TOUCHING MEIN DEUTSCH BALLS!”

Italy let out a confused ve as Germany rubbed his head on the spot that hit the ground.

“B-but I-a thought you said you WANTED to-a get-a down and dahty with me Jahmany.”

“J-Ja I do!,” the German replied as he quickened the pace of his rubbing to distract himself from his rising embarrassment, “vut obviously I need unt time to prepare!”

He paused in contemplation for a moment.

“Vun month should be sufficient, " he concluded.

“VE?!” Italy yelled as he shot up out of the man’s hold, “DEADASS??”

Germany startled backwards from the outburst and replied in an agitated tone, “Yes “deadass”! How do you expvect me to read unt annotate ze whole Guide to Sex for Ze Hard Hearted German series in less time zan zat? Zere’s five books to study and-”

Germany was cut off by the shorter man putting his hands on his shoulders with a face that could only be described as radiating the sentiment of “this faggot cannot be serious right now”.

“Jahmany. Jahmany. Amore mio. Listen to me,” He gritted out as he opened his eyes, “You do not need to read five books to prepare for sex.”

Germany gaped at him for a moment, not because he opened his eyes while saying his statement, but because while saying it Italy had dropped his accent out of sheer exasperation.

“Vut… Vut what if I do it badly?,” he hesitantly protested, all the fight draining out of him after hearing his husband get so tired of his shit he became normal.

Italy continued to stare him directly into his eyes with an alarming seriousness, “Germany. You will not do badly. There is no conceivable way for you to disappoint me. I have jerked off to you twice a day for the past hundred years without fail– yes, even while I had pneumonia that one time. I’ve imagined literally every scenario possible with you. In fact there is no scenario I’ve imagined with you that I didn’t like at least a little bit too. There’s no physically possible way for me to not like banging you.”

Germany’s blush deepened as he listened to the brunette’s confession, his embarrassment only amplified from being pinned down by the other’s intense stare. He instinctually averted his eyes while he hung his head in a bit of shame as he started realizing maybe he was being the ridiculous one here.

The Italian’s eyes softened as they slipped back closed and he cupped his husband’s cheek into his hand to bring his face back to his own, “But you-a know that if you-a really are uncomfortable or scared or-a anything at all we don’t-a have to have sex okay?,” he began stroking his cheek gently with his thumb, “I-a just want you to-a know that there’s no part of me that doesn’t desire you. It’s-a completely okay if you don’t-a want to do that-a sort-a of thing now or even ever. Even if we-a start and you don’t-a want to keep-a going suddenly then-a we-a can stop anytime. I just know how-a shy you can be about things and how you sometimes worry about-a me too much, so I need-a to push you to let-a you-a know you shouldn’t be worried about-a my end.”

The blonde brought his hand up to Italy’s wrist that was holding his face and forced his eyes back to his lover’s face. Furrowing his brow a little bit from fighting against his instincts to look away again, he responded, “Vell… if you really are svure you are fine vith me being less zan properly prepared… ven I zink ve could arrange somevhing next veek…”

The shorter man brought his face closer to Germany’s, “Are you really sure?”

“Ja,” the German replied, fighting for his life against his embarrassment and autism to maintain eye contact.

Feeling his nerves about to get the best of him, he moved his head back and closed his eyes while he quickly added, “vut not ze ██████████████ und ze █████████████ and also ze ███████████!”

He turned his face away as he muttered, “At least not for now… Zat’s vay too much for ze firvst time! And also ESPECIALLY not ze ███████████ too okay?!”

Italy had proceeded to pull him into a kiss and murmured something about how cute he was as he decided to continue what they left off at in their make-out session twenty minutes ago.

Afterwards while cuddling they both agreed to book a hotel room the next Saturday for their highly anticipated activities together and thus, led Germany to where he was now. Now having finished fixing and placing back the clock, he occupied himself by rummaging through the various items in the cabinets to see where the hotel bible was to read a few verses from it.

He was snapped out of his focus when suddenly, he heard a shriek from behind him and swiftly turned towards the source of the sound.

There he saw a teary eyed Italy quite literally shaking in his boots.

“AHHHHH!!!!! INTRUDER ALERT INTRUDER ALERT WHERES-A GERMANY?!,” Italy screamed as his eyes darted around the room and caught on the open duffle bag, seeing the tape and rope within it, “OH-A MY GOD HE’S TRYING TO-A HARVEST OUR ORGANS OR-A SELL US ON THE-A BLACK MARKET AHHHHHH!!! WHAT HAVE YOU-A DONE TO-A JAHMANY?!”

Germany, realizing that Italy could not recognize him with his ski mask on, quickly strode over to the man to reassure him that there was no intruder that was trying to hate crime them. Unfortunately in his panic it did not occur to him to remove his mask making the Italian only freak out harder.

The brunette immediately made a move to bolt away once he saw the other man start striding towards him, but was caught in the intruder’s arms and struggled to get away as if he was going to be forced to pay his bill at a restaurant. After about five seconds he gave up and pulled out two white flags seemingly out of nowhere and got to doing what he does best, acting like a total pussy.

“PLEASE-A LET ME GO YOU WON’T-A LIKE-A MY ORGANS–THEY’RE FULL OF-A PASTA AND WINE AND JAHMANY’S NASTY WAR BREAD WHICH IS-A CALLED STOLLEN BUT-A DON’T TELL HIM-A THAT I-A CALLED IT THAT BECAUSE I-A LIED AND TOLD HIM I-A LOVED IT WHEN IT-A TASTED REALLY REALLY REALLY BAD– LIKE SUPER DUPER BAD IT-A WAS HARD AND HAD-A NASTY DRIED FRUITS IN IT BUT I-A COULDN’T BREAK HIS HEART AND-A TELL HIM THAT AND ENDED UP HAVING TO-A EAT A WHOLE LOT OF IT– THE THINGS I-A DO FOR LOVE AM I-A RIGHT? SEE I’VE-A HAD A HARD LIFE Y’KNOW SO PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON’T HURT MEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!,” he rambled while waving his white flags furiously.

Italy felt the grip on him soften as the masked man deflated and in a broken hearted voice said, “Italy… you lied avout viking mein schtollen? Vhy… Vhy did you lie to me…”

“G-germany?,” Italy asked himself as he dropped his white flags to take off the man’s mask, revealing a disillusioned Germany.

He made a startled yell of surprise realizing what he just confessed to the man.

“I-I DIDN’T-A MEAN IT IN THAT-A WAY JAHMANY!!,” he tried to reassure, “YOU-A KNOW I SAY SOME CRAZY THINGS WHEN I’M IN-A TROUBLE–”

He saw that his words were having no impact on his lover’s deflated mood and quickly changed the subject, “UHM! ANYWAYS– I’M-A REALLY GLAD YOU’RE NOT-A SCARY INTRUDER JAHMANY AND YOU DIDN’T-A GET CUT OPEN OR-A SOLD ON THE BLACK MARKET!”

Italy continued rambling about how happy he was that neither of them were going to become meat pies as he untangled himself from Germany's hold and took him by the hand back into the hotel room. He closed the door behind them and led them to the bed.

“Why were you-a wearing such-a scary thing anyways Jahmany?,” Italy asked while holding the ski mask out in front of him as they sat down on the mattress, “and what’s with all the stuff in the duffle bag? I-a thought you didn’t-a want to do anything kinky this-a time?”

Germany, having already forgiven Italy as usual, explained in an increasingly flustered manner his reasoning for the mask and the items in his bag, especially the yak tranquilizer. As the explanation went on Italy’s face went from confused into falling in a grimace-like smile.

“... so zats vhy I prepared all zese zings. Again, I’m sorry vor startling you earlier,” the taller man concluded. He reached to take the ski mask back only for it to be jerked away from him by the Italian.

“Jahmany,” Italy started with tight smile, “thank you for all-a these-a wonderful preparations. But I-a think we won’t-a need these things at-a all. Especially not-a the ski mask. Just-a trust me okay?”

The blonde knit his brows togethers in confusion thinking that Italy surely should have understood why his preparations were needed after his thirty minute explanation. Well, in daily life Italy did have trouble following a line of logic in general so it isn’t too surprising that he was struggling to become agreeable now too.

“Let me explain it to you again zen Italy, so-,” Germany started only to be cut off from Italy lunging himself on top of him, effectively pinning him to the bed kabedon style.

There was no fucking way Italy was going to listen to that thirty minute schpiel again. It was already 10 PM at night and he knew Germany was going to make them get up at 5 AM the next morning to run a few laps to satisfy his autistic need for schedule. He had to get things moving or else he’d be dead in the water with no sleep and no Germussy.

The brunette brought his face close to his lover’s ear and he whispered, “Jahmany, you know I find that-a worrywort side of you-a cute too, but right-a now let me take-a the lead alright?”

For emphasis he proceeded to place a chaste kiss on the back of his husband’s jaw.

Germany’s ears began to burn from the blood rushing to them. In all these years he never could get used to the feeling of the Italian’s lips on his skin. He fumbled trying to formulate a proper response to the man’s compliment and interruption, ending up uttering out, “Ja– y-you too.”

Italy took this as his greenlight to start attacking the man’s face with his own.

Before Germany could overthink about his failure of a response, he felt his husband’s lips press firmly to his.

The shorter man laced their fingers together as he pinned the German’s hands above his head on the bed. Knowing his lover was the type who would always forget to breathe through his nose (it was alright, at least he finally stopped keeping his eyes open while smooching), he broke the kiss before diving back down with more fervor. He swiped his tongue against the bottom lip of the man below him, asking for permission to enter his mouth. As always, his husband obliged and parted his lips modestly.

Germany always thought that feeling a tongue explore his mouth felt a bit weird at first. And in general the act was pretty unsanitary which wasn’t very pleasant either. But when he thought about how the kind of strange tasting tongue in his mouth was his beloved Italy’s, that alone was enough to make the experience enjoyable and start getting him heated up.

The blonde let out a few embarrassed sounds as Italy hummed in content against him before pulling away to see how the other was faring.

He was moving faster than usual since they had bigger fish to fry soon, but was pleased to see that the man below him was doing pretty well. Germany’s face was tickled pink as he panted heavily from, as usual, not breathing through his nose at all. He looked up at Italy in expectation as he unconsciously pursed his lips a bit in an attempt to get rid of the excessive saliva on the corner of his mouth.

The Italian, in an act of true chivalry, kissed the corner of his husband’s mouth to get rid of the excess spit and then began to trail kisses down his jaw and to the wide expanse of his neck.

Instinctually, the taller man craned his neck to give his lover a better angle to nip and nibble at him, but also gave a small protest of surprise, “vait Italy– usually ve–ah! Spend m-more time… mm… k-kissing don’t ve?”

The man paused his assault and lifted his head from the crook of the blonde’s neck.

“Well we have-a lot of-a things to do Jahmany! This-a time kissing isn’t our-a main-a course after all,” Italy replied, soaking in his husband’s flustered disposition to stop himself from diving back in to continue eating away at him.

“Zat iz true… but uhm…,” Germany averted his gaze and mumbled, “kissing iz mein favorite part… so uhm.. c-could we– do that a little more..”

Italy, in all honesty, had never been more aroused in his entire life.

Germany always had a habit of being overly considerate in their relationship in general and the Italian knew that when he didn’t ask for something it wasn’t that he didn’t care, it was just that he didn’t want to be pushy. Especially when it came to romance. So to hear him meekly request for something as sweet as a few more kisses– how could he deny him?

Italy smiled and let go of the blonde’s hands to cup his face and neck as he sweetly maneuvered his mouth to other’s for a little while longer. During which Germany found his arms settling wrapped around his lover’s torso.

As Italy pulled away he brought himself back to the man’s neck and reassured him, “don’t-a worry Jahmany, we’ll still be able to kiss-a later too,” finishing his statement with a chaste kiss behind his ear.

Germany only hugged his lover tighter as Italy resumed sucking dark hickies into his pale skin. He let out little yelps every time the brunette bit down on him and whimpered as the man licked away the marks apologetically afterwards.

“Ah—ah, Italien…,” the German mewled, into the crook of the brunette’s neck, “I- mm… I love you…”

“I-a love you too Germania,” the shorter man breathed into the other man’s skin only to feel him immediately tense up.

Germany swiftly moved his hands to his husband’s shoulder and pushed him away to make eye contact in a deathly serious fashion.

“Italy,” he said while looking him dead in the eye, “do not call me Germania.”

The Italian was startled by such a reaction and blurted out, “wh– why?” with an incredulous look on his face.

“That’s the name of my grandfather.”

Fuck.

Both men did not know how to proceed with their intimate moment together after an interruption like that.

Luckily, before Italy could make a stupid joke that would inevitably downward spiral into them sleeping in bed with awkward half boners together he remembered that in his pocket he had a small charm gifted to him by England. It was given to him as an aid in case something went wrong during his and Germany’s night together. Thank god for him going to England for that fortune telling beforehand!

He immediately pulled out the charm and threw it on the ground before Germany could react and a large poof of smoke surrounded him. As the smoke dissipated he realized he was in the same position he was in before he called his husband by his grandfather’s name.

“Ah—ah Italien…,” the German mewled, into the crook of the brunette’s neck, “I- mm… I love you…”

This time, a much wiser Italy breathed into his skin, “I-a love-a you too Germany” and he felt his lover bury his face deeper into his neck.

Hey guys so this is the part where you read a sex scene written by a guy who has never held hands with someone in his entire life

Through their close embrace, both men could feel the other beginning to harden through their clothes. But this time was different, since for once the two men would be able to do something about their soon to be full mast dicks and that thought alone excited them both further.

Now kissing Germany’s neck less aggressively with only slow, closed mouth presses to his skin, Italy moved his hands and began to unbutton his husband’s collared shirt. He trailed his sappy smooches down to the man’s vast chest that he was oh so familiar with. Shifting his hands to cup the German’s pecs he huffed in displeasure as he felt they were hard and flexed. The brunette rested his face in between his lover’s pecs and looked up at him with the best puppy eyes he could muster.

“Relax for me Jahmany, I-a like them when they’re soft,” he requested, still cupping the hard masses in his palms.

The taller man closed his eyes and muttered out a hesitant, “ja ja” as he willed his muscles to untense. The Italian made a pleased noise as he squished the man’s large pecs in his hands. Truely, a delight better than any girl could provide, he thought to himself.

He experimentally moved his thumbs to push on the other man’s nipples and felt the blonde’s pecs instantly harden once again.

Germany instinctually hugged him much tighter, causing the Italian’s body to press up firmly against his as he let out a surprised “ah!” and inquired, “V-Vhat do you zink you’re doing” through squinted eyes.

“I’m-a playing with your chest Jahmany,” the Italian replied in a cheeky tone, as he proceeded to continue gently messing around with his husband’s pink nubs.

“Ja… vut– nngh you’ve never done somezing vike– ah- zhis b—before,”

“Do you-a like it?”

“It- mmm feels… vierd.. I don’t know if– if it’z ze good… vierd,” the German replied, scrunching together his brows as he consciously loosened his grip on his lover to make sure to not hurt him.

Italy hummed in acknowledgement. It didn’t appear that his lover’s boner was getting any stiffer as he continued playing with his chest. So after a few moments he decided to hell with it and asked, “how does-a this feel then?” before he proceeded to roughly grind his thigh directly into Germany’s crotch.

He instantly felt his husband’s thighs squeeze around his leg as the German threw his head back; hand clamping over his own mouth to suppress the moan that erupted from him. His back arched as his body shuddered. Italy was momentarily concerned that his lover just prematurely ejaculated, but also thought to himself that it would still be kinda cute if he did. Luckily, he knew the man didn’t as he felt Germany unconsciously rock himself slightly against his thigh, searching for more pleasure.

The blonde reached down to grab at Italy’s thigh between his legs before jerking his hand away and choosing to modestly grip at the sheets near their lower regions instead.

“I–ah I vike it–,” he stuttered as he brought his head back forward to face the Italian, face burning red and eyes tightly shut, “I–I vike it down zhere, ah–”

Well then. If the man says he likes it down there then Italy supposes he could sacrifice the rest of the boobies time to indulge him.

Nevermind how Italy could physically feel the blood in his body rushing towards his vital regions after seeing a reaction like that.

The shorter man continued unbuttoning the rest of his husband’s shirt as he trailed kisses down his torso, slowly grinding his leg into the man’s crotch to keep him from becoming impatient. Germany gripped the sheets tighter as he let out a string of “ah”s with every rocking motion. Unconsciously, he tried to speed up the pace, but Italy held his hips firmly in place.

Once the Italian had finished releasing the bottom and final button of the other man’s shirt, he quickly unbuckled his lover’s belt as well and stripped the man of his pants and underwear in one go. Germany let out a squeak in surprise and wanted to kill himself for making such a shameful sound. That was until he felt the cool air hit his now fully hardened dick and realized Italy was staring right at it, now he wanted to double kill himself.

“D—don’t just stare right at it!,” he scolded while curling his legs inwards and covering said regions with both hands.

The brunette let out a confused ve, “ehhhh? why? I-a literally stare directly at it every time we-a go to the public baths with Japan. I already-a know what you’re-a packing”.

“That’s true but!-- Right now ze situation iz all different okay?!,” The German protested, “It’z not ze same vhen I know you actually vant to get— erm– i-intimate vith me!! Just vike how zis is different than all zhose times you made me zit next to you vhile you masturbated at night because you vere scared of ze dark! It’z not vike you vere masturbating thinking of ME!”

Italy decided to refrain mentioning how all those times he WAS masturbating thinking about Germany actually. The entire masturbating “scared of the dark” thing was an Italian way of flirting even, but that would be an explanation for another time. Instead he bent down and gently pried back open the blonde’s legs causing the blonde to let out another “eep” in protest.

“But you’re so pretty Germany,” he replied, pushing his lover back down with his hand as the other caressed the man’s thigh, “can’t I have a looksie at my husband?”

He didn’t dare let out the urge he felt to giggle when he saw Germany’s hard on twitch a little at the praise. The blonde didn’t respond verbally, but allowed his lover to continue his ministrations with no resistance as he buried his face into the pillow next to him to hide his shame.

He’s so easy, it’s adorable. Italy thought to himself.

He continued to massage out little whimpers as he caressed the man’s legs while unbuttoning his own shirt. He decided that tonight he wouldn’t force Germany to strip him back. Since even as adorable as it would be to see his husband awkwardly fumble with his clothing and somehow turn even more flustered from being teased, he himself was getting a little impatient and wanted to get to sloppy sex already.

He briefly stopped his ministrations for a moment to peel the shirt off himself and toss it to the side. Despite how much he wished he could see the blonde’s expression right now, he was a little grateful that the man still had his face buried in the pillow next to him, since half of him was worried that he would make Italy pause and fold his shirt if he saw him throw it to the side.

Germany lifted his head from the pillow after noticing that the massaging had come to a stop only to throw it back once again with an arched back when Italy began nipping at his inner thighs.

The blonde yelped and clenched the bed sheets beside him as he felt his husband wrap his hands around his cock, whispering sweet nothings into his soft flesh, “ha–AH!-”

“Ah— ahn– neughh–,” he moaned ungracefully as he felt the Italian play with the tip a bit with his thumb.

“Mio prezioso, are you-a ready to have your first blowjob?,” Italy asked as he kept the German’s legs spread with one hand while bringing his face closer to the member in his other palm.

Unfortunately, he never made contact. Right before his mouth touched the tip he heard Germany let out a high pitched cry and the penis in front of him sprayed him directly in the face with semen.

Both men went still for a moment, until Italy brought his fingers to his face and then brought them to his mouth to have a taste of the sticky white substance.

Watching Italy begin to taste his cum snapped Germany out of his trance and he immediately wretched the brunette's hand away from his mouth yelling, “ITALY DO NOT EAT ZAT!!!”

The Italian pulled his hand back, “no, no wait-a minute Jahmany.”

He scooped some more onto his index finger and placed it in his mouth for a moment, really contemplating the flavor this time. “Hey this actually tastes-a pretty good! Like not-a spread it on your toast everyday level-a good, but better than those-a nasty sausages you-a gave me that one time we pinky promised to be-a best friends forever! Do you think it’s-a because we’re countries?”

Germany was about to ask Italy what the hell was wrong with him until the weight of how he just not only prematurely ejaculated, but also prematurely ejaculated all over his husband’s face set in.

Oh mein gott what is wrong with ME? He thought to himself as a horrified expression crept in his features.

Italy, sensing the blonde’s mood change quickly grabbed his wrists before he could put his hands on his face and go full “I wish I was never born” on him.

“Hey-hey Jahmany! Don’t-a worry about creaming on-a my face! You know I honestly kinda like it–I just-a told you that you taste like-a solid 6/10 yummy!,” Italy rambled out, jerking the other man’s wrists around in lue of his usual hand gestures, “And it’s-a fine that you finished-a teensy bit early! It’s-a your first time you know? If-a anything, honestly I think it’s-a really cute! Lookit me I’m-a even harder than before!”

He looked down at his own tented pants to encourage his husband to do the same. In his peripheral vision he spotted a wonderful sight though.

His eyes trailed over to Germany’s penis that was still erect as ever, even after finishing once.

Germany had told him before that he could schedule his monthly masturbation time block since he knew that he was only physically capable of finishing one time. Despite being one of the youngest countries, he had the stamina of a grandfather and told the shorter man that it was simply impossible for him to do more than one round.

Italy knew his husband was not the type who would lie to him, so him still being erect in the current moment must be a very new and unexpected development. That much he could conclude from how also Germany seemed just as shocked as he was about his little guy still fighting strong.

In his head, the brunette gave a prayer thanking God for always being so gracious to him and promising to start attending church again. Once he finished he lunged back on top of the taller man, knocking him back over and under him and whispered in his ear, “Jahmany, if it’s-a okay with you, do you-a mind letting me-a take care of that for you?”

Still reeling from the mountains of shame he felt for finishing too quickly earlier he protested, “nein! V–vhat about yourself?! If anyzing I should be ze one taking care of you!”

He internally cursed himself for not studying the book series harder. He would say to hell with it and try taking the wheel, but flashbacks of buon san valentino flashed in his mind and he lost all confidence in himself. One book studied was not enough for then, so only one book studied for now definitely wouldn’t be enough to maneuver through this.

Italy felt his heart squeeze a little and kissed Germany’s cheek as he reassured him, “you’re so sweet mio tesoro. I love that considerate side to you, but don’t worry Jahmany, I’ll take care of both of us this time.”

“V-vut–”

“Trust me,” The Italian requested as he pulled himself up and grabbed a bottle of lube from the bedside counter, “what I-a have in mind will-a definately feel good for-a both of us thanks to-a my technique.”

The German watched as his husband poured a generous amount of the substance on his fingers, fully realizing what the man was alluding to.

“Now-a my Germany, will you-a spread your legs for me please?,” the shorter man asked with a smile.

The taller man felt his face begin to steam again and coyly opened his legs. He glanced back and forth between his lover and the wall until he closed his eyes and muttered, “be gentle… okay?”

Italy almost couldn’t contain himself from how cute his husband could be. He circled his middle finger around the rim of the blonde’s hole as he leaned over to his face and planted a gentle kiss. He reassured him, “don’t worry, just tell me if somethings wrong” as he slowly plunged the finger inside of him.

The taller man squirmed in discomfort and the Italian planted gentle kisses along his neck to soothe him.

“Is it-a alright? How does it-a feel?”

“It’z… vierd… it doesn’t hurt zhough…mmnn.. you can move…”

Gently as promised, Italy slowly plunged in and out with his lubed up middle finger, feeling the warm interiors of his husband. Soft squelches resonated within the room.

“...Italy… I zink I’m ready for anothzer vun…,” Germany mumbled as he became used to the intrusion.

He only squirmed a little bit when the second finger entered him. This time he quickly found himself becoming accustomed to the sensation and asked for another. He was about to mentally congratulate himself for adapting so quickly, but stopped himself once he realized he was about to feel proud of being able to get used to being fingered quickly.

The blonde felt a slight burn when the third heavily lubed finger entered him and let out a small, “ah—ah-”. He wrapped his arms around his husband and whined into his neck. Italy gently shushed him and continued soothing him with kisses and praise as he carefully stretched the German open.

He gently scissored the man’s hole as he went in and out, searching for his lover’s prostate.

Germany in all honesty was getting a bit tired, since the sensation wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but it didn’t really feel good either. He had practiced on his own before for Italy, but he couldn’t figure out how to make it feel like much else than just fingers in his ass. Plus the rim of his hole was starting to burn from the fingers going in and out. But it did feel good to know that Italy was going to feel really good soon, and that part did keep him turned on and hard.

Suddenly, Italy’s fingers touched a certain spot and he felt as though a flash of lightning struck through him. He let out a loud moan as he white knuckled the sheets and forced his legs not to clench together.

Italy’s face lit up and he happily cheered, “Jahmany! Jahmany I finally found your prostate! I bet that-a felt really good didn’t it!!” He removed his fingers with a shlick and poured a generous amount of lube on his own dick that was now so hard it was almost painful.

“J… Ja.. zat did feel good,” Germany uttered in response, feeling a bit empty without the fingers.

“I’m glad Jahmany! After all, I want-a this to feel good for you too.”

The shorter man lined himself up against his husband’s hole and leaned the rest of his body down to meet their faces together.

“Jahmany, are you-a ready?”

“J—Ja, I trust you Italien,” Germany replied, meeting his eyes to show that he was serious with no doubts.

Italy smiled and leaned down to sweetly kiss the man below him as he slowly entered.

Germany wrapped his arms tighter around Italy as he carefully went deeper and deeper, a low burn growing from the intrusion. The blonde let out little “ah”s as Italy reminded him to relax and soothed him by running his hands down the man’s sides until he was fully inside him.

They paused for a moment to let the taller man adjust a bit to the member stuck inside him.

After a minute or so of Germany squirming and Italy fighting for his life not to bust a nut instantly, the taller man muttered, “I’m okay now… you can move Italy.”

Italy grit his eyes closed as he slowly moved in and out. Germany was tight– freaking too tight even– holy shit. Italy thought about making a joke about how he didn’t expect to get circumcised this way, but held himself back knowing it would ruin the mood. Instead he whispered in his husband’s ear, “Cuore mio, relax for me. It's alright, you can do this, just relax.”

“Of.. of course Italy”

He felt the taller man bury his face into the brunette’s neck as he slowly softened around him, still on the tight side, but at least it wasn’t a gorilla grip anymore.

Italy set back on his steady, slow pace. Each thrust eliciting a little moan from the man beneath him. He kept at it for a bit, trying to figure out what angle to thrust at to hit the man’s prostate once again until he did a thrust and felt the blonde clench harshly around him, arching his back as he did so.

Now having confidence in knowing where to hit, he quickened his pace and aimed towards that same spot. “You’re so good for me Germany, you know that?”

Germany’s face steamed even hotter somehow. “Ah, Italien— ah— mmm— mmmphh–,” he covered his mouth to muffle his moans that came spilling out uncontrollably.

“Jahmany don’t deprive me, I want to hear all the cute sounds you make,” Italy panted as he snatched the German’s hands away from his mouth.

“Good boy, good boy.”

He kissed the man once again as he continued to pick up the pace, whispering sweet words of praise into his husband’s ear.

The taller man whimpered and tears pricked his eyes as he arched his back. The Italian moved his hands to the German’s hips to get better leverage, while his husband hugged his legs and arms around Italy.

“Ah, ah, I love you– I love you Italy–,” Germany babbled into Italy’s shoulder, “I-I really love you– Ich liebe d—dich!-”

The shorter man knew his lover liked kissing best, but how could he expect Italy to kiss him when he kept saying these kinds of cute things when he didn’t?

“Anch'io ti amo Jahmany– ti amo tanto!,” he replied, feeling himself hitting the edge soon.

He needed to wrap things up soon, so he let go of his husband’s hip with the hand still slippery from lube and used that to start stroking the blonde’s cock vigorously.

“Ah– AH! Nuugh– that– that feels— Ah! r—really.. G-good—,” Germany mewled, “I– I feel —Ah, ah, s-something— build.. ngh— ing up–! I— ah– Ah– I think–”

“Do you– you hah— think you’re going to come?”

Italy picked up his pace, both stroking his dick and slamming into him.

“Then come for me Germany”

Germany spasmed and let out a broken string of moans as he came. He hugged Italy tight and the brunette could feel his walls clenching around him, bringing the shorter man over the brink as well with a loud groan.

He pumped into the man below him a few more times, riding out his orgasm as Germany whimpered from becoming a little overstimulated.

He pulled out slowly, before collapsing on top of his lover and instinctually burying his face into the man’s tits.

Both of them lay panting for a moment, as Italy maneuvered himself to lay next to his lover, and gathered him up in a hug that Germany weakly reciprocated.

“Well, Germany, what did you think of your first time having sex?,” Italy inquired.

Germany, now becoming fully lucid again, first realized how sweaty and sticky he felt, thus he replied, “Sticky.”

He thought for a little bit longer.

“But I also admit it was good. Even if I acted a bit shamefully…,” he lowered his eyes and averted his gaze.

Italy laughed and only hugged his husband tighter.

The blonde felt discomfort from the two warm and sweaty bodies pressing up against each other even closer, but nevertheless hugged his lover back because even though his body felt warm, his heart felt warm too. His body also felt kinda sore. Maybe even a lot sore. Actually he might have to rethink his 5 AM jogging laps with the condition his body was currently in.

But that was still fine too, since he probably would’ve only done a quarter of his laps anyways since Italy would be with him and get distracted by a cat or something.

For now, he settled with snuggling into Italy’s arms and began to doze off to sleep, exhausted from their activities.

That is until he felt the Italian bolt up after five minutes and shake his shoulder asking, “hey Germany wanna go for round two?”

[bakersstreetirregulars]

Stories by the Fireplace: The Lantern of Friendly Winds

🔮 It’s the end of the year again.

🌰 Wow! Time really does fly…!

🍮 Presents! Presents!

🌰 There’s also that time for being with your friends and family all over again. That’s why I invited Cotton Cookie here with all of us! Come on, we’ve got a warm fireplace and festive garland everywhere!

🐑 Thanks for having me here. You know, I always enjoyed the holidays with everyone. The laughter, the presents, and even the occasional request to see the sheep! I know Cupcake always enjoyed the company of the Village. And then there’s my dear friend… I’ve bid him farewell and never saw him again.

🌰 What happened?

🐑 You see, he… Sherbet Cookie… got turned into a Frost Spirit after what we thought was a really bad illness. We were inseparable, the best of friends. But I guess it was time to let him roam the world, going on all sorts of amazing adventures. That’s why when he left, we began to light lanterns on our holiday tree in the square of Snowfall Village for every holiday season since. To help him find his way back home.

🔮 … (away from everyone, next to the fireplace)

🌰 Radish? What’re you still doing here? Didn’t you say that you were going off to decorate back home with your family?

🔮 I was. And then I wasn’t, as she was gone searching for her own special friend, and Beet was off helping Carrot with a fall harvest. And then I overheard her [points at Cotton] bringing up that story again about the frost spirit. Point is, the story does have merit. He’s gone on quite a few adventures to faraway lands. Some of which, he even had me tag along as a sort of… witness? Perhaps my reputation as a messenger precedes me.

🐑 So he’s safe??? And he’s coming back to the village?

🔮 Perhaps his adventures will bring Sherbet Cookie back to you. To all of us. Go and light the lanterns using the magic of the Wind Flowers, and perhaps they’ll light the way.

🐑 Wow…! I’ll finally get to see him again! But there’s so many things we need to do! It’ll take an entire kingdom’s efforts to find the Warmth-imbued Wind Flowers you mentioned!

🔮 Indeed. You’ll have to show valor and commitment to find them. The more you do, the more visions you’ll receive from Sherbet Cookie’s perspective.

🐑 But once we find enough of them and make a wish, about a hundred Wind Flowers would be necessary at least, there’s a chance that a Lantern could light on its own! Maybe a fragment of his soul makes its way through and imbues itself in a crystal or two. Or maybe… just maybe… Sherbet Cookie might find his way back home on the wings of just one pull of fate! But if it’s not him, it would be another item. Resources and Aurora Items for the village? Or maybe Epic Toppings and Sugar Crystals for those long winter nights?

🔮 Possibly some Skill Powder for a formidable ranger like he was on his adventures.

🐑 Or perhaps plenty of Star Jellies that glimmer with the aurora sky! It would take the glimmer of Eight Lanterns to light the way for him to return, wherever he is.

🔮 While luck will determine if one Lantern lights up with a pull, the combined magic of 25 consecutive pulls without a Lantern will light one for you. The collective glow of all eight Lanterns will bring Sherbet Cookie to the Kingdom and Village, and then their magic fades away, extinguishing them all to allow them to shine again. If one pull manages to uncover a path for Sherbet Cookie right away, the Lanterns you already lit up will stay as they were.

🐑 Then… if my math is right, then it would take about 200 pulls to light all 8 lanterns.

🌰 That sounds about right. Nobody should be alone this holiday. We should all wish for Sherbet Cookie to come back home. Wish for it together-

[the door clicks open]

🔮 …!

☁️ What the-?!

🌰 No way-!

🍮 It’s-!

🐑 Sherbet?!

🍧 Hi Cotton Cookie… it’s been a while.

As mentioned in the previous post where I freaked out, I pulled Sherbet from this event gacha after 6 pulls. One single, and then a 5-pull.

🐑 (stunned silence) But… how… how did you find your way back home? Back here to Snowfall Village?

☁️ We didn’t bring anything remotely heavy or bulky at all!

🍮 We didn’t light the lanterns yet…! But can we do it anyway???

🐑 Sure! It is tradition, after all.

🌰 But how did you… huh?!

🔮… … …

🍧 It was her. Her and Meringue’s doing.

🐑 Radish… you did that for me???

🔮 It was one true wish on a whim.

☁️ I didn’t think it’d actually work!

🍧 It’s like she said, her reputation as the descendant to a guardian precedes her, if but in the aftermath of a string of events intertwined with her intervention in a series of adventures coupled with a series of promises that I would never break. I promised her and Cotton that no matter what happened, I would come back to this village to see her again. And to help Radish with my return even further, I had a promise to her as well…

🔮 The empty banner…

The Editor’s Guild Ad & An Introduction to Sherbet Cookie… coming VERY soon!

[prof-peach]

What would make a good ghost-type starter? My kid's about to turn ten and REALLY wants a Gastly. I think it's because the Ecruteak Gym Leader, Morty, and his Gengar are like, her childhood heroes. She says she even wants to be a ghost-type specialist. Honestly though, I'm kinda reluctant. I mean, you've heard the rumors about ghost-types and children, right?

Your concern as a parent is wholesome, and I can understand your reluctance to dishing out a ghost Pokemon without further investigation first, so let’s put some rumours to bed here.

The dex entries often depict ghost types and tricky, scary, wild and sometimes even dangerous, stealing children away, being living grudges, turning lost kids to Pokemon, and being overall hard to handle, often somewhat lacking in empathy even.

This is what a dex does, it’s built for kids, it’s information is out there to inspire kids to find intrigue in species that are overlooked. When your little, you make up stories, as a parent I’m sure you know, some of those stories your kids tell you seem actually terrifying, horrific, some kids love to indulge in the creepy, the unusual. It’s not to be feared, it’s to be celebrated. The dex is an exaggeration, a base for further learning, and often the gateway to kids wanting to know more. There is a fatal downside, their entries and statements about some species can be unnerving to a regular adult. We are fearful, we see this potentially spooky dangerous thing and of course we want to protect the family from that. But the info given is often a 1% (at most) chance occurrence.

Phantump? They aren’t born of lost kids in the woods. You ask any breeder worth their salt, and they’ll tell you they’ve seen those Pokemon hatch from eggs like everything else.

Drifloon, tries to steal kids apparently? Nah, they’re lighter than air, most of their movements just simply look that way, but it’s usually the wind pushing their bodies about. They’re actually very kind pokemon.

What else, oh, Banette. Born of a discarded toy with an eternal grudge? Haha nope. They aren’t all made that way, at all, many evolve to be perfectly happy healthy Pokemon with a lot of love for their trainers.

The dex focuses in on the unusual, the extraordinary, the facts that statistically will interest their target demographic most, and kids have way less fear than us. Look at yours. She’s been exposed to the same stuff you have, yet she’s not hesitant to want a ghost type, she’s not afraid, not learnt that fear yet, which is an incredibly good thing.

On the very unusual case where a ghost type is like their dex entry, it’s usually captured, aided, and rereleased in a secure location, away from those who could get hurt by it.

Ghost Pokemon do not hatch with a choice of body, a choice of type, or a set of rules to follow. Just like us, they learn and amble through their life trying to find satisfaction, friends, work, family, love and kindness, and to figure out how they fit in it all. They’re highly complex and empathetic Pokemon, often treated differently because of what they are, rather than who they are. When they find people and Pokemon who don’t treat them with hostility and unkindness, they will spend their life with them, they will give everything for them, protecting their loved ones with the ferocity other species can’t muster.

I for one think that as long as your kid knows what to expect, and is responsible and reliable in caring for a Pokemon, then perhaps it’s a good time to start looking. A ghastly is a perfectly fine starter, they have low care requirements, snacking occasionally, but feeding mostly from places of reflection or worship.

You know why ghost types always hang around graves? It’s how they feed. When people reflect, they produce a certain kind of energy, it is not something you can measure easily, or see, but a ghost Pokemon can sense it. They have learnt to live off the energy people expend reflecting, and the most common accessible place to get this for a ghost type, is graves. They also frequent places of worship, monuments beloved by locals, and buildings that once housed a lot of love. You can tell when an abandoned house had something truly terrible happen in it, not even the ghosts will feed there. The energy is bitter to them, and many don’t care for it.

To help your kid, set up a place within the house where you, your family, your other Pokemon, can go to reflect. Some people build this space around the telephone, or computer. When thinking of, or talking to distant loved ones, the same energy is produced, so at home the ghost type can snack and not run low on energy. It’s a nice modern day adaption that’s makes caring for ghost much easier thankfully. Spending 10-20 minutes every other day in the reflection zone will feed the ghost, but will not drain you or your kid. They do not eat up a lot from us, nothing we haven’t already expended.

Along with this, be aware that the ghost line can be somewhat nocturnal, so setting up a regular bedtime might be a little tricky, so that the Pokemon is accounted for, but also so the kids not out all night, that’s not safe at all. Sunset seems to be their peak active hour on average, long shadows mean they can jump around fast between dark patches, a trick ghost show off regularly.

If you are worried, try to make time to go out with your kid and their partner, to a park or maybe a more central street that’s well lit, so they can practice and be trainers in a safe environment. I can totally get not wanting them out in the dark alone, safety always comes first.

What else. She’ll probably have to start carrying an umbrella around. Ghastly aren’t too keen on suuuuper bright light, midday is not easy for them, but some do not want to sit in the pokeball while their trainer is up and awake, they want to play and be around them. An umbrella means they can get some shade no matter the time of day, and have some freedom to move about even in harsh sunlight. Too long in the sun will drain them of energy, and they’ll need to rest and sleep it off, recharge at the reflection station at home, or go spend an hour in a churchyard or something.

They eat most things and sleep anywhere, so there’s not a huge amount of specialist items to be bought for the home. Test different flavours on them, and try to find a ghastly that has a temperament that’ll get along with your whole family. You should definitely check out local adoption centres, they are in undated with ghost types this time of year. People hand them in for all sorts of reasons.

Little tip, if you bring Morty spicy baked goods, like chilli cheese bread or something, he’s more inclined to help you. He hangs out near the burnt tower a lot with his team, and takes trips to the local food festivals too, so if you notice an advert for one, see if you can catch the guy there. He’s reluctant to take on students, but if your kid turns up with a ghastly, and (from what I can assume) and overabundance of energy for Pokemon, plus a spicy treat, the guy melts a little and you can ask questions or request a little time for your kid to get some tips and tricks from a professional gym leader. I think it’d be interesting to investigate at the least, sounds like he’s the closest link between her and the Pokemon she so desperately loves. Plus how cool would that be for her? Gets to talk to her childhood hero. Kind of cool.

As a parent, I advise you get some cleanse tags too. There may be rooms you don’t want them entering, or items you don’t want them messing with (knives/power tools ect) , placing a cleanse tag on each wall, or on the items, will stop them interacting with them, so you can sit knowing things are safe for the Pokemon and your family.

In short, don’t knock the ghost types, they’re just as important, kind and loving as any other Pokemon. I’m not saying naughty troublesome ones don’t exist, but chances are you’ll find one that’s a great match for your family. Thank you for asking questions and not jumping to just get a Pokemon ASAP, you’d be surprised how few people do their homework before inviting in a new Pokemon to the home.

[caranfindel]

Fic: A life in hoodies

gen-ish | about 1900 words | pg for language | characters: sam winchester, dean winchester, jessica moore, pamela barnes | synopsis: fifteen years of sam winchester's life told through an inventory of his hoodies; or, this is what happens when a technical writer takes a stab at fanfic (hoodie identification and timeline courtesy of hell's half acre on live journal)

. . .

H.01: Grey fleur-de-lis hoodie

Figure 1:

Description: Light grey full-zip hooded sweatshirt with darker grey fleur-de-lis design on left chest, size XL, brand unknown

Provenance: Purchased by girlfriend at Macy's in Palo Alto in February, 2005 (see Note 1). Lost sometime around July, 2006 (see Note 2)

Note 1:

Please come with me, she said. I've just got to pick up some perfume for my mom's birthday. It will literally take ten minutes. Sam left his jacket in the car. He knew Macy's wasn't exactly Rodeo Drive, but it still wasn't somewhere he felt comfortable wearing his ratty canvas jacket. Jess steered him inside, wandering through displays of linens and cookware, wondering aloud if she was on the right floor. They ended up in menswear, where she stopped in front of a mannequin wearing the grey hoodie. Ooooh, she said. I like that. She yanked one off a hanger and held it up against Sam's chest. Try it on? For me? Sam shrugged it on over his t-shirt, shamefully grateful for a little warmth in the chilly mall. You look so good in that, she said. Would you do me a favor? If I buy it, would you wear it for me? We can call it an early birthday present.

It wasn't the type of clothing he'd normally buy for himself. It was a little more decorative, meant for a more fashion-forward type of guy. The type of guy Jessica wanted him to be, maybe? Okay. He could be that guy. He could do that, for her. She grinned, bundled the hoodie in her arms, and marched to the perfume counter. She paid for both items together so he never saw how much it cost, and ripped off the tag with perfect white teeth while waiting for the clerk to giftwrap her mother's perfume.

Sam Winchester had never bought his mother a birthday present; he had never been dressed by a girlfriend. He saw his new life, his new safe (not normal, safe) life seductively stretching out in front of him, a life where he was a citizen and someday maybe a lawyer and a husband and a father, and he had to hold his breath for fear that it would all blow away.

Note 2:

Sam wore the grey hoodie when he kissed Jess goodbye that night, and it was one of the few things he took with him when he drove away from Palo Alto for the last time. He didn't bother going through whatever belongings survived the fire. There wasn't anything to go back for; the only thing in the apartment that had ever mattered was gone. The hoodie was lost somewhere around the time of the car crash that should have killed his brother. He didn't mourn its loss. He wasn't ever going to be that guy after all.

—

H.02: Charcoal Hoodie

Figure 2:

Description: Charcoal grey full-zip hooded sweatshirt, size XL, brand unknown

Provenance: Purchased at Tractor Supply near Ogden, Utah in November, 2005 (see Note 3). Destroyed in Minnesota in February, 2007 (see Note 4).

Note 3:

Sam was dozing fitfully — just like he'd slept fitfully the night before — when Dean pulled into the Tractor Supply parking lot. You need a heavier coat, he said. That jacket's not warm enough for the mountains. Once inside, Dean peeled off to pick up some other supplies while Sam wandered the aisles, eventually picking up a dark grey hoodie. Dean frowned. No, man; I know you haven't done this in a while, but think camping. Think Colorado. Think cold.

Dean steered him toward a Carhartt jacket (see J.01, Tan Hooded Carhartt Jacket), but Sam didn't put the hoodie back. The Carhartt jacket was perfectly fine, but it was warm and heavy. Too warm and heavy for California. He wouldn't need it when he went back and restarted his life someday.

Note 4:

Weeks later, Sam charged downstairs to the basement of the abandoned house where he'd left Dean fighting a rawhead. The air still reeked of mold and rot and damp but there was something else, something like ozone and burned flesh, and then he saw his brother, limp in a pool of water, eyes closed, mouth slack, dead Taser still in his hand, and in a flash he knew what had happened and he ran, fell to his knees, (no Dean no, ohgod, ohgod), felt for a pulse (goddammit Dean, don't you fucking die on me, I can't do this again, don't you fucking do this to me), took a deep breath and tried again and it was there, a bare flutter under his fingertips, again and again and again, thank God.

He dragged Dean up the stairs, stretched him out in the back seat of the Impala, dug the charcoal hoodie out of his duffel and spread it over his shivering brother and drove him to the hospital. It stayed wrapped around Dean's shoulders when Sam half-carried him into the ER, and ended up in the plastic bag of clothing and personal effects stuffed into the tiny closet of the hospital room Dean was expected to die in. He was wearing it when he showed up at the hotel, frail and faded, no longer Sam's larger-than-life brother.

It was shredded by a black dog a year or so later and Sam never missed it, had never been comfortable with it again, couldn't look at it without seeing it wrapped around Dean, pale and fragile and dying.

—

H.03 Brown hoodie A

Figure 3:

Description: Chocolate brown full-zip hooded sweatshirt, size L, brand unknown

Provenance: Purchased at a Salvation Army in Lincoln, Nebraska in early 2005 (originally purchased by Dean Winchester, see note 5). Discarded sometime in early 2007 (see note 6).

Note 5:

Sam found the hoodie shoved in the farthest corner of the Impala's trunk. He put it on because everything he owned was stained, either because he fell asleep still clutching a styrofoam cup of coffee or because he got doused in someone-or-something's bodily fluids. Dean refused to stop long enough to do laundry, saying everything they owned was clean enough. He laughed at Sam and said got kinda spoiled, did ya, as he pulled on his own dirty shirt and yes, maybe Sam did get spoiled at Stanford. If being used to jeans that didn't stand up on their own, socks that covered your entire foot, clothes that weren't literally spattered with monster guts or your brother's blood, a wardrobe that was old and threadbare and pretty far from high fashion but at least got laundered on a regular basis, shirts that smelled like detergent and not gunpowder, socks that were stored in a disorganized pile in a hamper in your bedroom because they didn't have to be rolled into neat compact balls to fit in the duffle you lived out of, a jacket that smelled like your girlfriend's perfume instead of the smoke of a salt-and-burn because she borrowed it the last time the two of you went to the beach… if being used to all of that meant Sam got spoiled? Then yes, sure, he got fucking spoiled.

It doesn't even fit you, Dean said, eyeing Sam with a frown, as if suddenly realizing how much bigger his real-life brother was than the brother in his head. And he was right. It was too small, too short for Sam's long torso, bought by Dean for his own use because it looked like a color that would hide bloodstains well, but never worn because he didn't actually like hoodies in the first place.

Note 6:

I’m fine, Sam said, pushing Dean’s hand away. Go on, drive. We need to get out of here. Dean frowned, but he knew as well as Sam did that they needed to get away from the graveyard before they were spotted. And no, technically Sam wasn’t exactly fine. Technically, his entire right side was numb, he was nauseated and woozy, he was freezing, and his ears were ringing. But that meant fine enough according to Winchester standards.

When they got to the hotel, Sam reached for the door handle and was hit by a wave of pain. Suddenly his right side was on fire. He gasped and curled in on himself, clutching at his side. Eventually Dean came around and opened the passenger door. Dude? You good? Sam didn’t have to say no, I’m not. Dean took one look at him and reached for his arm. Come on, man. I gotcha. He pulled Sam out of the car and then patted at his right side as Sam wrenched away with a moan. Sam? You’re bleeding. Like, a lot. Dean was right, the color hid bloodstains well. Neither of them had noticed it was shredded along the right side and saturated with blood. Dean tore it into strips and used it as wound packing.

—

H.04 Brown hoodie B

Figure 4:

Description: Brown full-zip hooded sweatshirt, size XL, brand unknown

Provenance: Purchased at a St. Vincent De Paul Thrift Store in Greensburg, Pennsylvania (see note 7) in 2007. Discarded sometime in the spring of 2009 (see note 8).

Note 7:

Another hoodie? Dean asked, eyeing the small pile of purchases on the counter. Sam didn’t respond, but raised his eyebrows to say yeah, and? Dean shrugged. Just, you know, they don��t seem to last very long. And the pockets aren’t good for holding… stuff. Sam knew stuff meant weapons, and while Dean would never put it in so many words, the meaning was clear: You need practical clothes. Pockets that zip or button to keep weapons secure. Heavy fabric that serves as a layer of protection. Stiff fabric that doesn’t reveal the contours of whatever you’re hiding underneath it. You’re not a college student any more. You’re never going to be one again. Stop dressing like one. Sam didn’t put the hoodie back, but he only wore it a few times, and it was the last one he ever wore while hunting.

Note 8:

Sam leaned close to Pamela to hear her whispered last words. I know what you did to that demon, Sam. I can feel what's inside of you. If you think you have good intentions, think again. When he pulled back, her blood had soaked through the front of his hoodie, leaving a dark spot that never completely washed out. Sam left the hoodie in a laundromat somewhere in Wyoming, unable to ignore its accusing stare.

—

H.05 Light grey hoodie

Figure 5:

Description: Light heathered grey full-zip hooded sweatshirt, size XL, brand unknown

Provenance: Purchased at a Wal-Mart in Hays, Kansas in 2013 (originally purchased by Dean Winchester, see note 9). Current status unknown (see note 10).

Note 9:

The first time Dean wore the grey hoodie to take the dog for a walk, Sam's gut clenched into a tight little knot. He hadn't seen it since Dean's bout of healthy living, his attempt to master the Mark of Cain by exercising and eating healthy and quieting his mind. Any relic from that time in their lives brought back memories. Bad ones. For a moment Sam couldn't see anything but images of his brother's black eyes, of Charlie's pyre, of kneeling on the floor of a Mexican restaurant waiting for the bite of the scythe. Stop it, he told himself, pressing a thumbnail into his scarred palm. It's over. We're fine. Everything is fine.

Note 10:

Sam found it in the chaos of Dean's room, draped over his desk chair. It smelled a little like the dog, a little like deodorant soap, a little like bacon. Mostly it smelled like Dean. It was one of the few things Sam took with him when he drove away from the bunker for the last time.

[angrelysimpping]

My boyfriend has been making me feel like I'm going to throw up when I talk to him, there is red flags but I'm ingoring them like a dumbass 🚪🏃‍♀️ SO let's do what DoL characters would react to you ranting/venting about a toxic boyfriend. Might be cringe as hell but ✋

Avery

He isn't really interested in most conversations, but seeing how you were upset he thought he would pay some attention, sipping wine as he did so. You tell him about the things that has been doing on with your current boyfriend and he sets the glass down. You only scratch the surface but you feel him pull you close, as you lay your head against his chest, he is warm and smells of a very nice cologne along with red wine. He runs his soft fingers through your hair and gives you comforting words, some soft kisses and tells you he will take you out on more dates. You cuddle for the rest of the night, in the morning he asks if you want him to be your new boyfriend.

Whitney

He is smoking while you talk, you two just got done having sex in some cheap ass hotel. You don't think he is listening but you just want to be able to let this off your chest with someone who matters to you. "I get that you probably don't give a shit but-" Whitney cuts you off as he gets on the bed, he is over top of you and gives you an annoyed glare before sitting next to you. "He sounds like a dick. Dump him." You try to explain to Whitney that you can't, as you're scared he might do something to you but Whitney just puts a finger to your lips. "No one is touching my slut without my permission" Whitney gives you a kiss before hitting the back of your head and calling you a dumbass, he lays down on the bed and will go onto his phone. You sit trying to figure out what to do, before you see his phone thrown into your lap. "There, now the whole school knows your mine" he posted a picture of you two kissing during sex with the caption 'look at my sexy girlfriend' tagging your ex.

Kylar

Blood fucking BOILS. He tries not to have a reaction while you tell him this at lunch, but it's clear from the way he sticks his fork into the table, so hard it fuckin breaks. Next time you try to talk with your boyfriend he tells you to get away from him, calling you some hurtful names. You feel two arms wrap around your waist as your boyfriend completely shuts up. He has a scared look on his face, as you hear Kylar speak some words to him. You relax into Kylar's arms feeling safe for the moment. "We are over." You're boyfriend stomps out, but Kylar just kissing your jawline from behind "don't worry, I'm here okay?"

Eden

You are talking to him while he eats the breakfast you made for him, you don't have very much to talk about, and it's been a week since this all happened with him kidnapping you. Eden looks up at you and swallows his food "well. I'm you're new husband so you don't have to worry about him anymore." He goes back to eating not responding to anything else you say. Next few times he fucks you, he makes sure to say that you're his, he is better than your ex, ect.

Great Hawk

GH doesn't fully understand it, just that you're very upset over someone who was surposed to love you. So he wraps you up in his feathers, cuddling you and telling you that he loves you and he will do his best to not upset you. Then he makes sure to bring you tons of special items, and tell you often how much he loves you.

Idk if this is any good ✋ I'll write the more characters maybe

I'm sorry your bf is a dick but I v much like the writing.

You should probably break up with him, but I too am bad at ignoring red flags

....I'm putting the Avery one under my pillow with the other odds and ends to bring good dreams

[jackrrabbit]

Sidekick /// Dabi x f!Reader x Shigaraki (18+)

Summary: During a rescue gone wrong, a rookie sidekick catches the attention of two villains.

A/N: Thanks for 1k followers!! This is the fic that made me create a smut blog/lowkey inspired this. imho this might be the spiciest thing I’ve ever written 😳 also wanted to call out @kazooli​ because this is highkey inspired by her lol thanks queen

Tags/warnings: quirk kink, reader’s quirk makes other quirks stronger, noncon, threesome, lots of foreplay, outdoor sex, mild overstimulation, degradation, mild violence, threats, chronological/temporal inaccuracies, fucking long

You can hardly be blamed for not recognizing them. It’s only been three weeks since you debuted as a pro, and you’re not even really a hero. You’re a sidekick, and apparently you’re not important enough to have been briefed on the major villains you need to look out for. You’re just…doing your duty. Rescuing civilians indiscriminately. Stupid, naive little sidekick. It’s not your fault that the lives you just saved belong to the two most notorious villains around.

Still, Shigaraki can’t wait to see the look on your face when you find out.

///

The disaster you ‘rescue’ them from—the League’s bar crashing down, the result of a small-time villain’s poisonous gas quirk—isn’t even a disaster. It’s a minor annoyance, sure, but Shigaraki and Dabi would have been fine without you…even though both of them missed Kurogiri’s warp gate and ended up trapped under a wooden beam in the wreckage of the building… Okay, it’s more than a minor annoyance. Shigaraki hacks violently as the cloud of foul-smelling steam and powdered debris enters his lungs. The poisonous quirk doesn’t seem to be having the same acid-burn effects on his body as it did on the building, but he can’t assume it’s harmless.

Father… Shigaraki took Father off his face to drink at the bar earlier before the gas hit, and now in the confusion the severed hand is either buried underneath the rubble that used to be the League’s main base or somewhere else out of view. “Father? Father!” Shigaraki calls out, attempting to shift under the crushing weight of the beam.

“Shut up,” Dabi says from somewhere to Shigaraki’s left. “Kurogiri took it in one of the portals, I saw it.” He looks worse than Shigaraki feels—something hit him in the face as the bar collapsed, and a few of the staples (piercings? stitches? whatever) on his right cheek are torn open and bleeding.

“Are you lying to me?”

Dabi sneers and rolls his eyes. “Let’s just get out of here.” His palms glow blue and Shigaraki follows suit, letting four fingers sit on the wood that’s pinning both of them to the ground. It’s too heavy to lift, so they’re going to have to get rid of it…a task that seems significantly more difficult when it becomes clear that neither of them are positioned at the right angle to touch it.

Shigaraki tries to wrest his arm out enough for his thumb to touch the wood, but it’s impossible. Beside him, Dabi’s having the same issue. “Shit, I can’t reach—“

“Is someone there?” Confident, clear, and oddly robotic, your voice cuts through the din of gurgling water from cracked pipes and police sirens like a lit flare in the darkness. Shigaraki tenses and halts his attempts to get free from the beam, and a second later Dabi mimics him.

“I heard voices.” The same unfamiliar voice rings out through the half-light, now accompanied by a body—your body, taking a series of awkward jumps down the piles of rubble to land in front of the two of them. The outfit you’re wearing is ridiculous: a pair of metal boots that clang against the cement wherever you step, matching braces on your arms, and a space-age chrome motorcycle helmet to top it all off.

A hero. Shigaraki’s lip curls in disgust as your head turns his way.

You scan the scene quickly, eyes resting on the two men trapped in front of you for a moment before you turn back to the opening in the wreckage. “Found two civilians!” you call out to the rescue workers just in case they’re within earshot, although it’s unlikely.

Dabi snickers under his breath. Civilians? Even in the chaos, you should’ve known the second you saw them who you’re looking at. Are you faking ignorance? Got something up your sleeve?  It’s either that, or you genuinely don’t recognize them. Priceless.

You kneel down in front of the fallen beam and give a half-hearted attempt to pick it up. It doesn’t budge. No surprises there—if it were light enough for you to lift by yourself, the two men held down by it would have no problem getting out with their combined strength. You’re going to have to use your support gear to get it off them.

But first—you search for a memory of your rescue training. Reassure the victims. They’re probably panicking.

“It’ll be okay,” you tell them, your voice coming out mechanical and distorted from the helmet you’re wearing. “You’re going to be okay. I’m here to save you.”

This time, Dabi has to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud. Ah, yes…they’re so lucky that there’s a do-gooder little hero around to rescue them, because they’d be helpless otherwise. The laugh is still audible, though, and Shigaraki shoots him a glare.

You raise an eyebrow at their expressions. Did he just laugh? Well…you’ve heard that people sometimes have inappropriate reactions in times of crisis. The dark-haired man seems more badly hurt, so you creep toward him first, careful not to disturb any of the debris and trigger an avalanche reaction. “I’m going to check your injuries now,” you tell him, and your gloved hand brushes away a sweep of spiky hair to examine the sizable red bump growing on his forehead.

Ouch…there’s no way that doesn’t hurt, but the man’s not letting any of the pain show on his face. Instead, he looks disinterested at best, and at worst? You almost get the feeling that he’s eyeing you up under your hero costume. Not that you can blame him. Damn this skin-tight bodysuit—it leaves basically nothing to the imagination.

“Does it hurt a lot?” you ask him. “I don’t think this is too serious, but they’ll look you over for a concussion when I get you to first aid.”

Dabi shrugs and you frown. Is the non-verbal response because of the ripped stitches in his face? Is it too painful to talk? Or could there be brain damage? Or maybe he’s just a man of few words or something…?

“Can you get on with it? Pick up the fucking beam already,” Shigaraki hisses.

Startled, you pull your hand away from the other man’s forehead. That ungrateful little…nope, nope, don’t get annoyed, he’s just in shock. “O-Of course, sorry. Just gotta make sure it’s okay to move.”

Luckily, the beam doesn’t look like it’s supporting anything else that’ll fall if you pick it up. You crouch down next to one end and steady your feet against the cement, lifting up with all your strength while activating the effects of the support items you’re wearing. When you feel the metal on your arm braces grow warm, you remind yourself again to thank the developer of your costume. You may not be a fan of the way-too-tight bodysuit that clings to everything, but the strength-enhancing armor that you wear on your arms and legs more than makes up for it.

A second later, you hold back a grin. It’s moving! You try to ignore the unpleasant screech of metal against stone as the beam slowly lifts into the air. As soon as the men get out from under it, you pant and let it crash back into the ground. “You guys okay?”

“Mm…yes,” Dabi replies, running a hand over the torn piercings in his cheek. “Got any more gas masks for the poison mist?”

“Don’t worry! The Commission is familiar with the villain who created it, and the gas isn’t harmful to anything living. Only buildings. It’s a troublesome quirk, but we’ve got it under control.”

“Then what’s with the helmet?”

He can hear the hesitation in your reply, even distorted and tinny through the metal speakers. “Uh…I, well…”

Now that you’re getting a good look at them, the two scarred faces in front of you seem weirdly intense, considering you’ve just saved them from a collapsed building. The dark-haired man’s eyes are…very, very blue next to the burned-looking skin underneath, and the other man’s greyish-blue hair isn’t quite long enough to obscure a pair of red irises that are scrutinizing your face with obvious hostility.

You give a nervous shake of your head to clear it. “Um, the helmet is…it’s dangerous if I take it off. I should get you guys back to the rescue area, I need to meet up with my hero…” Without thinking, you take a step back and then one more, not knowing exactly why you’re backing away when you’re supposed to be escorting them. “I’ll just lead the way?”

With your third step back, though, you bump into something hard. What was that? Your head jerks around but before you can identify what it is that stopped your retreat, you feel the faint sensation of something tapping lightly on the back of your helmet.

And then…it just…crumbles.

What just happened?

You cough and shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut against the sudden onslaught of dust. A breeze whips through your hair, sending a chill through you in more ways than one. How? No one pulled the helmet off; you would’ve felt it if they had. More dust sticks to your face, and you rub your eyes so you can open them.

Behind you, Shigaraki waits with outstretched fingers an inch away from your neck. If he had to explain the decision to decay your helmet strategically, he could—you’re a hero, a potential threat, and he wants to know what you’re hiding under that outfit just in case you figure out who they are and decide to turn on them.

But really? He didn’t think about it that much. It was an impulse reaction to you walking away from them; a tantrum. Child-like.

Once your stunned face is exposed, Dabi has to wonder what you were even trying to hide. You’re…surprisingly ordinary. Young-looking—a rookie, fresh from hero school graduations a few weeks ago maybe? Large, expressive eyes, lips parted in shock, but nothing particularly interesting. Shigaraki cocks his head to the side to study your face too, and both of them are so focused on your appearance that it takes a moment for them to notice the feeling.

Well, feeling isn’t really the right word, but there isn’t a word for the way your quirk works. Dabi’s eyes widen when it reaches him and behind you, Shigaraki stiffens. You notice.

There’s an involuntary quiver in your voice as you break the silence. “Y-You guys must have strong quirks if you can feel it just from that.”

Dabi sucks in a breath. So this is your quirk? It’s different…he’s never felt anything like it, not that he’s exactly sure what it is. There’s some kind of energy in the air around you that he’s breathing in, a feeling like taking a shot of espresso after days of sleep deprivation.

No, it’s stronger than that. The head rush after doing a line of cocaine would be a better metaphor.

Either way, he’s awake—more awake than he can remember feeling in a long time. Heat rises to the surfaces of his palms unbidden, his quirk appearing without him calling it. “What is this?”

“…It’s called Boost,” you say, licking your lips as a dry wave of heat radiates out from the man in front of you. “I can strengthen other people’s quirks. That’s why it’s dangerous—if the villain finds us—“

“It must have been hard to get through hero school with a quirk like that,” says a raspy voice from behind you.

What—? Your head twists around. When did he—

Shigaraki grips your shoulder with three fingers, holding just tightly enough to keep you from stumbling forward and away from him. His pinky and ring finger hover an inch over your costume, careful not to disintegrate the fabric he’s touching—although with the power sparking through his veins at the moment, it almost feels like three fingers would be enough.

“…Doesn’t really seem like the kind of quirk a hero has.” His voice, soft and pondering (a weird contrast to the harsh architecture of his facial features you’d seen earlier), feels very close to your ear. Something soft tickles your cheek. His hair?

A voice (an instinct?) deep inside of you is telling you to run. You ignore it. This is normal, right? It’s not uncommon for civilians who’ve just suffered a traumatic villain attack to have questions, even if those questions seem irrelevant to the situation at hand. You have to answer, even if your gut is churning. “I’m not really a hero. Not yet. For now, I’m a sidekick to one of the pros—and speaking of which, I really need to find—“

“But how does it work?” Dabi doesn’t notice himself making a conscious decision to step forward, but he does anyway and being closer to you feels right. He can see the trepidation on your face as he gets close enough to reach out and touch you, but you can’t really ask him to stay back, can you? Not when your quirk feels this good?

“I—“ Is it unreasonable that you think you’re being trapped right now? They’re just a couple of civilians, right? The question itself is common enough. People often wonder how you can be a hero. It’s a concern you’ve had to address dozens of times over the years. “Well, I work with rescue operations, especially with other heroes who have healing-type quirks. I can also assist in combat in some situations.”

“In combat? If you’re with a hero and a villain, you’ll enhance both quirks. Seems counterintuitive,” Dabi says, half aware that his voice is getting lower.

“And you clearly don’t have physical abilities. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have…these.” Shigaraki taps three fingers on the metal brace on your right arm.

“The effects can be unpredictable. And I can increase the degree of the enhancement with physical contact.”

“Contact?”

“Yeah. The gloves of my costume come off. My quirk is way stronger when it’s skin-to-skin.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

You shouldn’t have said that.

Shigaraki’s ring finger and pinky, which were hovering over the arm brace, come down to rest on the cold metal. The effect is instant: no crumbling, no slow decay—it’s there, and then it’s dust. His quirk in action, boosted by yours.

“What—What are you doing? What did you just do?” You try to pull away from him, but he holds you tight by your collar. His other hand comes up to grip your chin, and in one long sloppy stroke, he licks you from your neck up to your jawline.

You shudder. So does Shigaraki.

“It’s my quirk,” he tells you slowly. His breath is steamy warm on the cold, wet trail of saliva painting your throat. “Decay. Have you heard of it?”

You flinch away from his hand and your back falls against his chest. Of course you’ve heard of the Decay quirk. You might be a rookie, but even civilians know about the young, impetuous head of the League of Villains. Jesus, how had you not recognized him earlier? White hair, red eyes…you should have known. You should have left him under that beam. “Shigaraki…Tomura.”

“So you’re not completely clueless. Do you know me, then?” Dabi asks. He would think he’s the more noticeable of the two (the burn scars usually identify him), but you just stare up at him with the same deer-in-the-headlights look as before. Smirking, he lights a blue fire in his palm and it jumps up toward your face—not just the small spark he intended, but a bright, high flame. “Maybe this will help you remember.”

“The Forest of Beasts incident. You’re the one who started that fire,” you whisper. You’ve seen the TV coverage of the attack on UA’s training camp, the abduction of that teenage student, the forest lit up blue from wildfire. No wonder his skin looks burned.

“Dabi,” he corrects you.

Breath is coming out of your mouth in shallow puffs. Are you hyperventilating? Is this what hyperventilating feels like? You’re definitely panicking. They’re so close to you, caging you in between them. The smoke from the blue fire is uncomfortably hot over the exposed skin of your face, and Shigaraki’s lethal hands are still touching you. If they want to kill you—and why wouldn’t they?—you’re fucked.

The flame goes out and Dabi’s hands come down to squeeze your wrists. His palms are hot like he was holding them in front of a lit stove. It’s not painful, but it’s a threat.

“I’ll fight,” you say.

Your voice is trembling, and Shigaraki likes it. The effects of your quirk, the way he felt when he licked your face… And you’re afraid. He can see it in your shoulders, the quivering of your torso pressed into him. It’s nice. He wants to feel it more.

You’re struggling against their hold, and Dabi feels the urge to laugh. “You’ll fight…the two of us.”

“If you try to kill me, I’ll—“

Before you can finish your sentence, Shigaraki’s hands flit down to your metal support gear and disintegrate it. Shit. He’s fast, and you’re helpless.

Dabi releases your wrists and cups your face in a mockery of intimacy. His eyelids flutter closed as his skin meets yours… Fuck, he could get used to this. You smell so good, sweet and soft and clean, like fruity shampoo. What is that, watermelon?

Life must be difficult for you, hm… Everyone around you must want to touch you constantly. It seems like Shigaraki enjoyed licking you—maybe bodily fluids are an even stronger conductor of your quirk? Pushing easily past your resistance, Dabi forces your jaw upward and kisses you.

Oh…yesyesyes, just like that. Perfect. Dabi has to bite down a groan as his tongue enters your mouth. It’s ridiculous for someone else’s spit to taste this good, but he’s right—your quirk is amplified by the contact from the kiss.

After a moment he has to break it to regain focus and make sure he’s not burning you. You cringe away from him, your cheek brushing against Shigaraki’s neck, but Dabi tangles his hand in your hair to pull you back. He runs a finger against your closed lips, letting the pad of his fingertip heat up until your mouth drops open in response to the threat.

“What the hell are you doing?” Shigaraki asks, voice laced with revulsion. Privately, you agree. What’s going on? You were sure you were about to be either burned to a crisp or decayed into the equivalent.

Dabi laughs under his breath. “Try it. It feels crazy good.”

Curious now, Shigaraki wrenches your head around and tilts your jaw up to repeat Dabi’s action. When you refuse to open your mouth, he taps your jaw warningly and a hiss of fear escapes you. Would he really kill you? He decayed your support gear so quickly—would it be the same for your body?

Well, what’s going to stop them?

You open your mouth.

Shigaraki’s lips are harsh and unsentimental against yours. His tongue sweeps over the inside of your mouth, invasive and brutal. He grips you forcefully, his face pushing you deeper into the strained hold with your head twisted toward his. You’ve never been kissed like this before. His spit—it’s in your mouth.

And Dabi’s hands are on your waist. “How do you get this thing off?” he murmurs, pinching the fabric of your bodysuit.

A surge of panicked adrenaline gives you the strength to pull back away from Shigaraki. “What? No, you can’t!”

“Are you going to stop us, little sidekick?” Dabi mocks. “I think I can burn it off without too much damage.”

“Let me.” Shigaraki takes hold of the cloth, careful so when it dissolves into dust his hand isn’t touching you, and within a second—a second—you’re left shivering in just your underwear and boots.

“Help!” The plea squeaks out and you hope blindly that there’s a hero close enough to hear you. But is there even anyone who can fight them? You certainly can’t. “Help me! Somebody!”

“Shut up.” Dabi sends up a tongue of flame from a fingertip and you shriek as the heat sears against you. “Oh, come on. You should feel lucky. Bad guys like us usually don’t hesitate to take heroes out.”

“I don’t— Please, I’m just a sidekick, I’m a rookie— What do you even want from me? Just let me go, I won’t tell anyone! Please let me go.”

“Well, I think I know what I want.” Dabi traces circles over the tender skin of your hips, playing with the elastic of your underwear. He meets Shigaraki’s eye over your shoulder. “I think he wants that too. Right?”

“Yeah, I want…I want to fuck her,” Shigaraki hums. This isn’t like him, but he can’t help himself. You’re different. Leaving you here and never feeling this stimulant again isn’t an option. He buries his face in the juncture of your neck and shoulder, bites down on the soft skin there, and sucks.

You whimper, half from his answer and half from the sensation of his chapped lips on your neck. “Why are you doing this?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but…you smell like something I want to eat. Especially this.” Dabi kneels down in front of you and hitches one of your legs up over his shoulder so you feel his hot breath washing over your clothed pussy.

You whine and attempt to wriggle back away from him, but Dabi’s grip on your thigh holds firm. His other hand brushes against the fabric of your panties to rub up against your slit and another surge of panic jumps up your throat. You can’t let him do this.

You kick your foot against his back, desperately attempting to make contact using the heel of the high boot that’s the only piece of outerwear still left on your body. It hits him awkwardly and he growls. “Damn it. Can’t you keep her busy?”

“Ahh…” Shigaraki ceases his oral assault on your neck and scratches a fingernail against one of the bright red marks marring your skin. He feels almost dizzy from the way your quirk is affecting him. Behind him, the broken expanse of wall digging into his back is the only thing keeping his focus. “Behave, sidekick.”

Before you can respond to the mocking title, Shigaraki’s face is against yours and his tongue is in your mouth again. Rough fingertips work up under the band of your sports bra and pushes it up over your tits. You screw your eyes shut at the sudden feeling of cold air on your nipples, and you know without looking that they’re standing up. Shigaraki gropes you thoughtlessly, keeping one finger lifted off of your skin, and you gasp on his tongue.

“That’s better.” Dabi’s mouth returns to brush against your panties. To be honest, eating you out isn’t the first thing on his mind. What he wants—what he really wants—is to shove you up against the wall and fuck into you and find out what your quirk feels like when you’re wrapped around his cock. But you’re probably not wet enough for that, and it’s not like Shigaraki is going to do anything to take care of you. Dabi would be surprised if the other man’s ever eaten pussy before in his life.

Besides…you smell good. It’s not even just the feeling of your quirk exciting him. The rich, feminine scent of your pussy is inches away from him, and Dabi is dying to make you cum in his mouth.

A moan curls up from deep in your throat as Dabi caresses the lips of your pussy through your underwear. You don’t bother protesting—at this point, it’s unlikely that any plea you could muster would stop them. Your earlier begging didn’t do much besides spur them on, but you still cry out as softly as you can when an unnaturally warm fingertip slips under the cloth of your panties to dip into your slit.

“Oh? You’re wetter than I expected. Are you enjoying this?”

Your frantic denial falls on deaf ears. Shigaraki rasps out a laugh and bites down on your neck again. He’s supposed to be keeping you still, but he can’t help enjoying the way your almost-naked body feels as you press yourself back into his chest, trying to force some space between yourself and Dabi.

Your squirming is no problem for Dabi, though—you’re so soft and vulnerable and the velvety skin of your inner thigh looks so delicious… He nuzzles against the area of bare skin and latches on to it, sucking until he’s sure you’re going to have a mark in a few minutes. The thought of leaving hickeys on you like a teenager is sickeningly nostalgic. You’re probably going to try to forget this when they’re done, aren’t you? But you won’t be able to, not when you’re covered in love bites and bruises. You’re going to be marked up for weeks.

Fuck, he’s hard.

Too impatient to bother taking off your panties, Dabi just pushes them aside to gain access to your damp cunt. His fingers feel hot—too hot, almost unbearably hot; you feel like you could melt into a puddle and your pussy is certainly slick enough as he pets your clit and slides one finger in, then two… You whimper and shake your head, silently denying what’s happening to you. The intrusion is uncomfortable, but Dabi’s fingers quickly find that rough patch inside of you that makes you want to beg like an animal. You hate it, but it feels good.

“She’s so tight,” Dabi says with something like awe in his voice. You can hear Shigaraki panting behind your back.

“Get on with it,” Shigaraki says.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

For a second you just feel Dabi’s humid breath against your dripping cunt before he closes the space between the two of you and his tongue slides onto you, laving over your cunt to come to a rest on your clit. A sound you’ve never heard yourself make before forces its way out of your mouth as Dabi eats you out in earnest, rubbing his tongue against your clit in a stuttering rhythm that gives you no time to catch your breath.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Your head rolls back onto Shigaraki’s shoulder. You feel like crying for a million reasons at once. Maybe you’re already crying—the sounds you’re making are almost like sobs. You want him to stop. You never want him to stop. Your hands twitch as you fight the impulse to fist them in the villain’s hair and pin him down between your thighs.

“Fuck, oh fuck, no stop please stop, ah…!” The stream of gibberish coming out of your mouth crescendoes into a real sob as you feel your climax coming. No—you can’t—you can’t cum here, in this broken-down bar, on the tongue of a villain, but it doesn’t matter that you can’t, because you’re going to cum anyway.

“Please don’t, please let me go—“ You writhe uncontrollably as the desire to cum sweeps over you, but Dabi just curls one arm around your thigh and pulls his face away so he can push his fingers back in, angling his palm to grind roughly over your clit. The harsh, rough texture after the warm wet softness of his tongue is enough to push you over the edge and you cry out your orgasm, your pussy clenching onto Dabi’s fingers as he works them in and out of you.

Unable to support yourself, you crumple like paper, and only the two villains you’re sandwiched between keep you upright.

“Fucking finally,” Shigaraki growls, and he pushes you down so your knees scrape painfully into the rubble. Your earlier resistance was cute, but so is your dazed compliance as he pulls your hips up to meet his.

“You’re going first?” Dabi asks incredulously. After he did all that work getting you off? No way.

“You can use her mouth,” Shigaraki tells him. His cock is straining against his pants and he groans as he releases it and rubs it over your panties. He could decay them, but…they’re cute. Pale pink, peach-pink, except for the wet spot over your cunt. Precum is already dribbling out of his cock as he pulls your panties to the side and lines it up with your pussy. Jesus-fucking-christ, you’re wet, sopping and slimy. Doesn’t that mean you’re begging to get filled up? Shigaraki hears himself sigh as he slides the head of his cock up and down your slit so it’ll be wet enough to go in.

You’re still out of it, dizzy from your orgasm and the tension of the situation, but you snap back to your senses with the feeling of something hard pushed up to your entrance. “Wait!” you yelp for what feels like the hundredth time. The gravel scattered over the wreckage where you’ve been forced onto your hands and knees digs painfully into your flesh as you pull away from Shigaraki, but he holds fast to your hips with pinkies raised.

“Uh-uh,” Dabi admonishes with a grin, as if he’s reprimanding a dog for not coming when called. He settles himself in front of your front and kneels again. Your hair is mussed but still silky soft and he takes a moment to enjoy the way the strands slip over his skin before he tangles his fingers close to your scalp and yanks your head in his direction, forcing your cheek to chafe against the crotch of his pants. It’s not difficult to tell what the the thick bulge is through the fabric, and you try to flinch away only to be caught again and immobilized.

“You’re going to take care of us,” Dabi tells you. “Like I took care of you. Okay?”

No, it’s not okay, it’s absolutely not okay, and you would say so if you didn’t see Dabi’s expression darken at your obvious denial and feel a wave of acrid heat coming from his hand in your hair. The smell is worse than the feeling, honestly—you’ve had enough run-ins with hair curlers and flat irons to recognize the smell of hair when it’s three seconds away from burning. “Okay! Okay,” you answer, panicked, voice muffled by the fabric of Dabi’s pants.

“Good girl,” he purrs, and the heat fades.

“I’m not waiting any longer,” Shigaraki says from behind you.

“Then don’t.”

You whine, too scared to try to get away again or even plead with them to let you go, but it doesn’t matter. Shigaraki’s cock presses into your pussy, and there’s nothing you can do to stop him as he slides into you, inch by inch, torturously slow. Is there anything to bite down on? You need to do something, anything to distract from the pain of Shigaraki’s cock stretching you out. He’s big, impossibly big.

Eyes squeezed shut, you bite your lip until you can taste copper and scrabble around blindly until your hand finds loose fabric to grip. It’s something of Dabi’s, probably the coat he’s wearing if you remember correctly, but your brain isn’t exactly working right at the moment—

“You were right…shit, she’s…she’s so fucking tight.” Shigaraki’s voice is low and labored with the effort of not thrusting into you all at once. “Feels like…she’s trying to push me out…”

Fuck it, he thinks. Would it really be so bad if he did push all the way into you in one stroke? It’s better to just get it over with, isn’t it? Yeah…you’d probably prefer him to do it quickly. And besides, he can’t wait another second to feel you all the way up to the base of his cock.

Your strangled whimper is drowned out by his satisfied groan as he shoves the rest of the way into you in a single sudden thrust. The pain knocks the breath out of you in a gasp, and your eyes fly open as you clutch Dabi’s coat like a lifeline.

“It hurts—!”

“Yeah…yeah, I bet it does,” Shigaraki pants, holding your hips steady as he thrusts in and out of you. The bored nonchalance of earlier is gone, replaced by a feral intensity as his cock carves its way through your pussy. If you didn’t know better, you’d think there’s something affectionate in his voice.

For Shigaraki’s part, he can hardly think of anything aside from the soft, hot, wet cunt wrapped over his dick. It’s taking every vestige of concentration he has left to make sure he’s holding a single finger on each hand away from your skin. It’s pure bliss. Your body was made to be fucked like this. He wants to live inside your pussy, he wants to do this every day, every minute. Fucking you raw is the best he’s felt in months…years. And it doesn’t hurt that your quirk is still working on him, still sending pleasurable shocks of energy that make him feel simultaneously like he could keep you pinned down for hours and like he could cum any second.

“Oh, she’s crying,” Dabi says, tilting your chin up so he can look into your eyes. You flinch and try to jerk your head away, but his hand is still holding you by your hair and he’s so much stronger than you are. They both are, even without using their quirks. “Look at me.”

You comply, more by reflex than any real desire to obey. It’s pretty striking to Dabi how cute you look as Shigaraki pounds into you so fast and deep you can hardly catch your breath. Your eyes are glittering with unshed tears, your tits bounce with every thrust, and you’re still holding onto Dabi’s coat like your life depends on it. It’s almost like you’re pulling him closer. Adorable.

“She can…take it,” Shigaraki responds breathily between thrusts. “Such a good whore, taking my big cock in her tight little pussy…”

The backhanded compliment jars you and you feel hot tears spill over your cheeks. “I’m—not—a—whore,” you manage to say, each word punctuated with Shigaraki’s skin slapping against yours.

“Really?” Shigaraki’s pace slows and he leans closer to you so he can reach an arm around and swirl two fingers against your clit. You mewl like a kitten at the unexpected stimulation and he laughs rudely. “Feels so good…can’t believe the heroes don’t want to fuck you like this all the time…”

You shake your head desperately and bury your face in Dabi’s chest, barely noticing him stroking your hair and then reaching down to unzip his pants.

“No, no, I bet that’s what you do as a sidekick, right?” Shigaraki’s thrusts are back to frenzied jerks, and he rubs over your clit just as roughly. “Spread your legs for your hero…you’d make a great personal cocksleeve. Or maybe they rotate you around so every pro hero gets a turn…?”

“No, I don’t! No! Ah— ahnnn…” The denials pierce the air uselessly as the villain’s cock fills you up again and again. You’re not a whore, you’re not…even if it’s getting harder and harder to ignore the growing pressure of Shigaraki teasing your clit in time with his cock rubbing against your sweet spot. It still hurts—he’s so big, bigger than anyone you’ve ever had sex with before, but there’s no way you’re going to admit to yourself that it’s starting to feel good.

“…Is my cock better than All Might’s?” Shigaraki’s words are cut off by his own grunt of pleasure as your cunt twitches around him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Dabi cuts in. “I’m sick of hearing a guy’s voice moaning. I’m going to get soft.”

Past the point of comprehending the situation, you look up at him gratefully, only to reel back in shock as Dabi frees his own cock from his pants and it brushes against your cheek. Trying to pull away from him is more instinct than rational thought, but he holds you just as easily as before and forces two fingers into your mouth. You tense, ready to bite down, (and hopefully take a few knuckles off) but he sees it coming and suddenly your mouth is horribly burning hot.

“You’re going to suck my cock now,” says Dabi conversationally, extinguishing the flame almost as soon as he started it. It’s not so bad—probably more like a coffee burn than anything else—but you’re coughing and spitting anyway. “Say yes.”

“…Yes,” you whisper, voice barely intelligible.

“Good little sidekick. And you’re going to be very careful. You’re not going to use teeth.”

You nod, unable to mount a defense with Shigaraki mercilessly fucking you from behind.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Y-Yes!” you squeal as Shigaraki finds a particularly sensitive spot inside you.

“Good.” Dabi drags your head down to hover over his cock and massages your jaw until it falls open. “Suck.”

One of his hands falls to your shoulder to try to stabilize you, but you can’t help feeling the threat in the motion. You quickly duck down and attempt to ignore the heady smell of sweat and precum as you trace your tongue up the underside of his dick. He’s big too, maybe thicker than Shigaraki, and you hate yourself for feeling lucky that it’s not this cock inside your pussy right now.

The stunt Dabi pulled burning your mouth made you salivate, and you let drool coat your tongue as you lick around the head. But it’s not working—you rock forward every time Shigaraki stuffs his dick back in your aching pussy, and Dabi’s cock smears over your mouth haphazardly.

“I said suck. Not lick.” Suddenly (although you don’t know why you keep expecting some kind of warning before these villains find a new way to violate you), Dabi grabs the back of your head and shoves his cock into your mouth. Your throat constricts involuntarily as the thick head triggers your gag reflex, and all three of you shiver in unison.

“Do…do that again,” Shigaraki says, voice strained. “She tightens up…when you do that.”

Dabi smirks and thrusts into you again, relishing the warm, humid cavern of your throat around his cock along with the pure swell of energy from your quirk enhancing his. His rhythm matches Shigaraki’s and his cock hits the back of your throat with every rapid pump, making you gag and clench like you’re trying to milk the cum out of him. What a perfect little slut… He can see from Shigaraki’s sloppy movements that you’re squeezing around his cock every time too.

The feeling of having one villain cock buried in your pussy while another ravages your throat is unthinkable, even more so with Shigaraki’s fingers on your clit coaxing out an earth-shaking orgasm. But you’d almost be able to forget what’s happening—god knows you’re delirious with sensation, barely able to keep track of who’s doing what to you—if not for the sound. The wet slap of Shigaraki’s hips against your ass, the horrible squelching from your (dripping wet, even if you don’t want to admit it) pussy as his cock pistons in and out of you, your choked moans and gagging noises, and above it all, the unrestrained voices of the villains fucking into you.

You feel like a fuck toy, a sex doll, used without mercy by the two most evil people you can think of…and you’re about to cum.

Your voice is getting louder by the second, and the pulsing of your cunt around Shigaraki’s cock is telling him exactly how close you are. He curls his body over yours to get a better angle to rub your clit, enjoying your high-pitched whine in response. “Yeah…that’s right…good girl. Cum on my cock…like a good little sidekick.”

You keen and goosebumps rise on your skin as Shigaraki licks at the sheen of sweat on your back. He feels your climax almost as soon as you do… If your scream wasn’t stifled by Dabi’s dick in your mouth, everyone within a one-mile radius would know you were getting fucked silly, yeah? The walls of your pussy clamp down on Shigaraki’s cock, your body begging for his cum, and he grips your ass to make sure you can’t get away as he comes to his own orgasm inside of you.

Fuck… Shigaraki could die right now and be happy. He keeps stroking your clit, knowing it’s cruel, knowing you’ll be overstimulated and sensitive and that it’ll hurt to keep touching you like this after you already came, and not caring because every time the tips of his fingers push that little magic button, you shiver and squeeze him like you’re trying to milk him dry.

Shigaraki gives a few last thrusts, pushing his cum deeper into your body, fucking it into you so you’ll be dripping white for hours, and then finally pulls out. The slurping sound your cunt makes as his cock leaves your pussy is obscene. So is the cloudy trail of mixed white and clear fluid that connects your pussy and the head of his cock until he pulls it away. He loves it.

Knowing that Shigaraki came—inside you, no less, the inconsiderate bastard—Dabi grips the back of your head and tugs you down to deepthroat him. Your walls twitch involuntarily and Dabi groans, letting himself shoot his load down your throat. “Yes…yeah…yeah…just like that. Swallow.”

You don’t swallow. You don’t do anything but gag on his cum and gasp as he thrusts into you. Dabi pulls you off of him, annoyed and ready to threaten you into submission again…until your head lolls to the side and he can see that your eyes are closed.

“Shit, she passed out.”

“…What? Are you kidding?”

Dabi slaps your face lightly. You wince in your sleep but don’t wake up. “Nope. Must’ve been when she came the second time.”

“Is she…” Shigaraki trails off, not sure how to end the question. ‘Okay’ isn’t exactly right.

“She’s breathing, if that’s what you’re asking.”

The two of them wait for a moment, but you don’t move. When he catches his breath, Shigaraki wipes off his dick and pulls up his pants. Dabi does the same. Without them holding you, you flop down into the fetal position on the broken concrete. “What now?” Shigaraki asks.

Dabi wipes the sweat from his forehead. “You tell me, leader. I’m surprised Kurogiri hasn’t opened another warp gate to get you back. Guessing you don’t have your phone either?”

“…We can go to Giran’s place to meet up. They’re probably waiting for us there,” Shigaraki says, scratching at his neck.

“Do you have cab fare?”

“I don’t have my wallet on me. You?”

“Not enough for a cab. We’ll have to take the train. You can owe me.”

Shigaraki looks down at you. You make a pitiful scene, naked except for your boots, sports bra, and cum-soaked panties. Your neck is bruised red and purple, and you’re shaking, shivering in the cool air now that the sun has sunk further toward the horizon and you’re not being touched. “Are we going to leave her here?”

“What, you want to bring her on the train with us? You don’t think that’s gonna look suspicious?”

“Well…” Their eyes meet and Shigaraki knows Dabi’s thinking the same thing he is. You have a lot of potential as an asset. They haven’t even had the chance to see how your quirk boosting works in combat, but Shigaraki almost wants to pick a fight just to give it a try.

And fighting power aside, Shigaraki isn’t a fan of the possibility that he’ll never get to fuck you again.

“Yeah, I know. But she’s a pro hero’s sidekick. She can’t be too hard to find.” Dabi shrugs off his coat and crouches next to you. You’re limp enough that he has no trouble lifting you into his lap and guiding your arms through the sleeves of his coat. Once you’re wrapped in the black fabric, he does up the buttons, combs through your hair with his fingers, wipes the mixed cum and spittle off your chin, and admires his handiwork. Sure, anyone looking closely at you will know at least a little about what happened—you’re still sweating in the cold, you have that undeniable ‘just got fucked’ look all over you, and the smell of sex is overpowering. But at least you won’t have to walk back to the rescue tent in your filthy underwear.

In your sleep, you nuzzle into Dabi’s chest, reaching blindly toward the source of warmth. He grins and strokes the back of your neck, soothing warm fingers over the bruised skin there and enjoying his last opportunity to touch you and feel your quirk working…for now, at least. “You know, I wonder why villains don’t get sidekicks. Seems a little unfair, right?”

Shigaraki’s sneer matches Dabi’s as he bends down to run his fingernails over your cheek, almost hard enough to hurt. “I was just thinking the same thing.”