#she certainly fucked up enough stuff before she went..

[six-of-ravens]

ye gods, Errant PM says she's had a family emergency and is out of the province this week, and I really wish I could believe her but after last year (re: claiming she was working remotely bc her aunt was sick for several weeks and then later telling me she was at "all those music festivals last fall" bc she forgot her own lie) + all the stuff that's happened the last few weeks (including Lead Dev's vague warnings that all the issues with her would be over soon) I really..... can't believe her.

[lucidfairies]

ride it [a.a]

pairing: gymrat!abby x pilates princess!reader

synopsis: abby normally enjoys going to the gym alone, but on the rare occasion that you ask to come, she never passes it up. (based on a tiktok I reposted!!)

warnings: heavily self indulgent on the reader part and my gym experiences, poc friendly, not exactly smut but SUGGESTIVE, subby abby

"y/n, I'm going to the gym, be home later." abby yelled up the stairs, trying to get your attention from whatever you were working on up there.

"baby, can I come? I haven't gone in a while." you yelled back, hopping up from your spot on your guy's shared bed, quickly grabbing a workout set and stripping to get it on.

"if you change fast enough." she joked. the set was pink, just a bra and shorts, but it fit what you normally did at the gym, which was yoga or a pilates workout. it was nothing compared to abby, who did extensive lifting.

when you got downstairs, abby was leaning against the wall in a muscle tee and shorts, but her shirt happened to be pink as well. "we're matching." you grinned, pulling her attention from her phone as you gently pressed your hand to her chest, pushing up on your toes to kiss her softly.

the ride to the gym was relaxed; abby's hand gripping to your thigh as you hummed along to the songs on the radio and tried to find a good workout video.

the gym wasn't packed, which was good. you hated working out in front of other people, and you especially hated when other people looked at abby when you guys were working out together. "what are you working today?" you asked her as you walked in.

"legs. worst fucking day of the week." you rolled your eyes. "you should try some of the stuff I do. it could be fun, y'know?" you looked back at her as you opened the door to the locker room.

"abs... have you looked at your quads recently? I don't think I could do half the shit you do." abby grinned, like it was funny how much bigger she was compared to you.

"not with the same weight, dumbass. just the same exercise. please sweetheart, I promise it'll be fun." she tossed her bag in a locker with yours and locked it. you sighed.

"fine. but if I don't like it, I'm going back to what I had planned." abby grinned, grabbing your waist as you left the locker room.

you both warmed up on the treadmill, then she took you to various machines –the leg press, leg extension, hip abduction– and explained how to use them, then showed you while she did it. it was embarrassing how much weight you could do compared to her, but you couldn't quit now. you were almost having fun.

she brought you to the weight side of the gym, where most of the intense lifters went. that portion of the gym scared the shit out of you. she set up a bench and grabbed a bar, loading an obscene amount of weight onto it.

"these are called KAS hip thrusts, they work your glutes and stuff, I think." you stopped listening after that, consumed in the way she pulled the bar over her lap, held it in place, then thrust her hips up.

she did this every time she was at the gym? regardless of who was watching?

you couldn't tell how much weight was on each side, but that hardly mattered. you were spitting out words before you could even think of what you were saying. "you should do it with me on your lap." she set the weight down and looked up at you, cheeks rosey.

"baby.. I- uh, what if people watch?" she was a stuttering mess, at the thought of doing that to you in public. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad, but it would certainly get her worked up, that's for sure.

"what if?" you shrugged. abby complied, obviously, who is she to say no to you, and pushed the bar off of her lap, letting it roll forward.

you straddled her, legs on each side as she pressed her hands behind her head. "you got it, baby." your voice was low, attempting to throw her off her game. it did. she forgot for a moment what she was supposed to be doing until you raised your eyebrow, expediently.

abby's hips rose in the air, bringing you up with them, then slowly dropped, controlled. every time she lifted her hips, your ass pressed perfectly against her clit, and she was getting wetter by the rep. "shit, baby." abby groaned, keeping her hands locked behind her head so she didn't take you right now.

"c'mon abs, just a few more for me." you didn't know how many reps she did for this particular exercise, but four was hardly enough. you placed your hands gingerly under her shirt, just tracing lightly with your nail.

her hips stuttered, surely almost dropping you, but she kept going. when she finally got to her max raps, her hips fell roughly, and she panted, head in the crook of your neck and she tried to calm herself.. and her clit. "put your things away and meet me in the locker room shower." you smirked and stood up, leaving her wet and bothered.

safe to say she fucked you good after that.

tag list: @baumbii @tlouadditc @abbysvictim

[cultofdixon]

Oddly Fascinating

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Can you imagine a human fucking pretzel? Well you certainly like to freak the others out unexpectedly • SFW/NSFW - Implied Sex

Requested by: Anon

It’s…fascinating. The things Y/N can do with JUST her body. Keep that noggin out of the gutter for a minute.

Y/N joined the group a little after the Woodbury infusion to the prison. She didn’t have a group and sort of ended up in Virginia because she simply didn’t stop walking from where she originated.

One day Daryl, Michonne, and Glenn were out on a run in the closest outdoor mall, which is a few hours away from the prison—so they were going to have to camp. Daryl went to check the store that looked like a miniature Home Depot thinking he could find some camping supplies but when he entered the store…said camping supplies were in use but no person.

“If anybody is here, I ain’t gonna hurt yea,” Daryl stated knowing that wouldn’t go far but to his surprise one of the storage boxes’s lids flung open. Soon a woman’s upper half popped out like a jack in the box and it was a bit unsettling to the archer.

“I had to see who I’m working with and what makes yea think I’ll trust “I ain’t gonna hurt yea” with muscles like those”

“You think I’d hit a woman?”

“It’s the apocalypse. If laws don’t exist, neither does moral code. I follow them still…but still”

“I don’t hit women.” Daryl scoffs. “How do yea fit in there?”

“I don’t know you well enough to share my skills. But I do feel a little better knowing you’re not gonna throw a left hook at my face” the woman began to fully pull herself out of the container and when she stepped out, she locked eyes with the archer’s confused yet curious ones. “Okay I trust you about not killing me but why haven’t you left?”

“Gonna ask yea a few things if that’s okay with you”

“Sure I guess” She put the lid back on the box before taking a seat and crossing her arms.

“How many walkers have you killed?”

“Lost count a long time ago”

“How many people have you killed?”

“Four”

“Why?”

The woman went silent for a moment and avoided eye contact as she held herself. “They were my friends, and brother who were about to turn. They didn’t want to be taken out as a walker and didn’t want to become one so. You know…”

“I do” Daryl leaned against one of the shelves. “It’s hard to take someone you care about out after they’ve changed”

“Getting deep with me and we don’t even know each other’s name”

“Daryl”

“Y/N”

Then she joined their group right then and there. The others that came with Daryl liked her, didn’t trust her right away but given her attitude immediately when it came to them asking the same questions Daryl asked—-both Glenn and Michonne knew that they will grow to trust her. Same with the others. Returning back to the prison with a lot more than they had expected helped the initial image of the new comer. Y/N hoarded a lot of stuff so thinking that she would survive alone in there.

Some part of Daryl wanted Y/N to take the empty cell in their cellblock but given he didn’t speak up and Rick showed her one of the others, that wasn’t happening.

But she was very involved with helping around the prison.

“You good up there Y/N?” Rick calls out to her receiving a thumbs up while she continued to work with fixing part of the fence that disconnected from the gate.

The retired sheriff watches his brother pull in on his bike but stop to watch Y/N a moment. She dropped her wire cutters and as it hit the grass, Daryl hopped off his bike about to grab it when he quickly took a step back when Y/N jumped down somersaulting in the dirt.

“The hell is wrong with you?!” Daryl shouted as Y/N stood up immediately, stretching her back after her action. “Yea could’ve cracked your head open!”

“I’ve done it a million times before. Don’t worry your pretty little head”

“A million times? What, in the circus?”

“How did you know?” Y/N smiles catching him off guard at first and even more when she broke out in laughter. “I wasn’t in the circus dumbass. I’ve done a lot of risky stuff and…gymnastics. But what just happened is nothing compared to other stuff” she states while throwing herself back so she was then in a bridged position and Daryl watched her upper half lay flat on its stomach showing her crawl between her legs and hold her ankles. Exorcist shit.

“Now I think you’re an alien”

“Rude” Y/N scoffs as such action was a bit uncomfortable given her twisted position. “It definitely impressed and freaked out a few hook ups”

Now that led Rick to leave from overhearing their conversation, both knowing damn well he was there. He opened the gate once Y/N was back in the upright position and Daryl was still left appalled somewhat.

Y/N was definitely making a good impression on most. Has been on every run that was planned and no one opposed, she’s especially useful in tight situations.

“Alright, so I was thinking we break down the door and then—-“ Tyreese cut himself off when Y/N gestured for Maggie’s help to hoist her up and she happily obliged.

Next thing the group knew, Y/N was pushing herself through the small window above the locked door landing on the other side and unlocking it.

“Or that” Sasha chimes in with a laugh and smile, impressed by the woman. “Now we don’t have to almost break ourselves to get into places” she walked past her as Y/N brushes off some of the dirt checking her person carefully. Said actions didn’t go unnoticed by Daryl.

After a couple hours passed, the four returned to the prison and dispersed but as Daryl stuck by his bike a moment he noticed Y/N straggling a bit. She stood for a while glancing around and turned to Daryl with a questioning look before turning away.

“If yea need something, you can ask” He didn’t hesitate as Y/N slumped in defeat before turning around and approaching him.

“Crack my back”

“What?” Daryl scoffs confused as he wiped the grime off his hands with his rag. “How am I supposed to do that?”

“Imma turn around cross my arms and you’re going to wrap your arms around me then lean back until a crack is heard.” Y/N explained in the most layman terms she could think of and it clicked instantly to Daryl but he hesitated a moment.

“Is that what yea want?”

“Yes, well. What I really want is someone to step on my back but all of y’all aren’t trained to do that and back in the day I had a friend who was a masseuse.”

“Well, I’ll do my best” Daryl grunts bringing himself over after tossing his rag on his bike watching her turn around and do what she had to do before he wrapped his arms around her. “Just lean back holding yea?”

“Yup” Y/N felt a sudden warmth rise in her chest when she was being lifted and the heat came clear in her cheeks expressing more of a red hue.

She heard the crack a bit ago but they both just. Stood there and it went from Daryl holding her to them both holding each other. Still Y/N’s back against his chest but her arms held onto his. Daryl relaxed setting her down but the way he held her for much longer and Y/N didn’t show any sign of letting go.

There was something

When the illness washed through the prison and a few were sent to get the medicine, Y/N found herself in the doorway watching Bob shove alcohol into his bag. He turned toward her realizing she was there and instead of talking first, he quickly took a bottle and threw it in her direction watching her quickly fall back then swing her body back forward.

“Jesus fucking Christ what are you? One of those inflatable car sales string cheese looking things?!”

“That’s very descriptive. Are you gonna be the same way when telling me why you have a goddamn bag of alcohol and not medicine to save our people”

“Oh for fucks sake! You and I are the newest people at the prison and you’re willing to bend over backwards—-even literally—-for people you barely know”

“So?!”

“SO?!” Bob shouted which caught another’s attention, Michonne as the conversation ended the second she joined. Bob brushed past her as she quickly gave a concerned look to Y/N.

I’m fine. Was all Y/N gave her as she stepped out.

Of course the booze was found out by Daryl and that was a more explosive mess to address than when Y/N first confronted him. But it all stopped mattering when they finally got their medicine into their people.

After getting their medicine in, Daryl went in search for Y/N who disappeared after they did such. It didn’t take long to find her because she was in her cell but she was alone in the old Woodbury cell block. Because of the outbreak.

“You alright?” Daryl asks Y/N even if she was currently hiding under her deconstructed bunk.

“Yeah”

“Don’t look like it”

A few seconds of silence. “Yeah…” she sounded defeated and pulls her entire self out from under bringing herself to sit on her bed. Daryl bringing himself to sit with her leaning his back against the wall.

“You can trust me, with whatever is on your mind”

“It’s strange…how easily it was for Bob to just. Not care about the others in the heat of the moment”

“Some people are just like that. Somethin’ or someone has to change them”

“I used to be like that. Not a warm caring person when this thing first started. I just. Had moments that changed me”

“Yeah?” Daryl gave her a questioning look that she noticed in the corner of her eye. “What changed yea?”

“Having to end the lives of people I cared for, the ones who got bit. When…” Y/N hesitated a second before looking at Daryl. “When I met you”

She’s full of surprises isn’t she? Daryl could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he never felt that feeling before.

But this moment was short lived like the many that followed after.

Until they found themselves alone weeks later…in a new place, with strange new people. Y/N stuck by Daryl’s side since they first entered Alexandria and given how the archer was feeling from all the loss, he would find himself following her if she were to stray or disappear from his side for too long.

“Can you hand me the socket wrench?” Daryl asks while under the car Aaron drives for recruiting as he was asked to check something out for the man. Y/N being there to help in any way even if it is just handing tools to the archer.

Y/N was currently repairing one of the angel wings on Daryl’s vest which led her to using her leg to reach toward the bench then her foot hooked onto the handle of the tool box. She then carefully bent so that she could grasp the box with her hands and go through the kit for what he asked for.

“Damn”

The annoyingly familiar voice caught both of their attentions as Daryl pushes out on the skateboard sitting up to look at Spencer confused. Y/N equally confused on the matter while handing the tool over.

“You know I saw you the other day doing your…morning stretches or whatever. Didn’t think you’d be THAT flexible…and limber…” Spencer was starting, or continuing to make Y/N uncomfortable as he starts to check her out making her cover herself with Daryl’s vest in her lap.

Daryl quickly taking note of the reaction and glaring at the man. “Beat it”

“I wasn’t talking to you” Spencer brushed him off keeping his attention on Y/N. “I bet you’re even more flexible in more intimate situations”

Y/N scoffs instantly but before she could bite the guy’s head off. She felt herself being pulled toward Daryl’s direction. Daryl having grabbed the blanket she was seated on pulling it closer to him so he could protectively wrap his arm around her shoulders as she instinctively leaned into him.

“She’s taken. Now I’d fuck off and bother somebody else before your mommy sees her little boy’s face smashed the fuck in” Daryl threats and didn’t let his guard down but it got Spencer to storm off defeated. “What a tool”

“He’s not wrong about something”

“Huh?”

“I am very flexible when we’re intimate” Y/N laughs slightly catching her own boyfriend off guard resulting in the red hue rising in his cheeks.

[gayhoediaz]

nieeeee. i literally cannot stop thinking about of solace and amelioration. like. i've read it three times and i always skip to the end and cry because buck and tommy are. so full of love for each other, it literally makes me Ache. and. the little details you wove in there about tommy's backstory? just.. annihilate me. do you have any more tommy/bucktommy headcanons to share pls 🤲🏾🥺

jaaaack my loveee 🥺🥺🥺 yess of course anything for you!!!! ❤️❤️❤️

tommy spent a lot of time alone growing up so he can solve a rubik’s cube in like absolute record time. for some reason buck finds this just… so hot. he loves it when his man is capable and confident. (and he loves his hands.)

tommy doesn’t necessarily mind being alone because he is so used to it - spending christmas alone, watching love actually and cooking just for himself doesn’t make him sad. he’s certainly not someone who feels sorry for himself. but when he does have people around him? oh god he loves it so much. he loves taking care of people he loves loving people and he loves it when he gets the same right back.

buck is not a huge fan of muay thai either but he still learns a little bit - mostly because he likes seeing tommy all hot and sweaty (and capable) in as many situations as possible (and yes it always ends in sex, in fact i think eventually “muay thai” stops meaning muay thai altogether. it’s just code for dicking each other down.)

buck loves running his fingers through tommy’s hair and tommy loves it when he does it. after a bad day, he’ll just walk in through the door and drop himself on the couch with his head in buck’s lap.

a few years ago tommy went to the animal shelter to maybe get a cat cause he was a little lonely, but he came home with an irish wolfhound and he named her keira because bonus hc: keira knightley is his favorite actress. (buck and keira take to each other immediately, and since buck does more cardio than tommy, he takes up a habit of running with her whenever he has time - usually in the morning, dropping a kiss to a half-asleep tommy’s temple as he tells him he’ll be back in a bit.)

tommy loves buck’s ass (what he sees, i don’t know, there is literally nothing there) but by the time they’ve been together for a few months, he’s comfortable enough to stop holding back, and he’ll just fucking live down there. often it’s sexual but sometimes it’s also not - sometimes they’re having a sick or lazy day, watching the tv in tommy’s bedroom, and buck is fully dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie, and he always ends up on his stomach so tommy can use his non-existent ass as a pillow.

they shut keira out of the room when they fuck, but when they’re done they always let her back in to sleep in bed and she takes up 85% of the space but that’s okay ❤️

tommy meditates and buck tries too but his brain moves too quickly it doesn’t really work for him. when meditation doesn’t work for tommy either - he smokes. it’s a terrible habit left over from rebellious teenage years and stressful time in the closet, and he’s done a good job kicking it, but sometimes buck kisses him, and he can smell it on his breath and he just. sighs. and runs a hand through his hair and asks if he wants to talk abt it.

the longer they’re together the more “cracks” start to show in tommy, i think he’s a lot better at hiding it than buck is - but he struggles not only with ptsd, but with depression and anxiety and he has worked on himself and continues to do so, but he still keeps a lot of that stuff to himself - it takes a while but when buck starts opening up more, tommy slowly starts to do the same, and evan is the first person he feels he can truly rely on and trust, and he’s never really had that before, never felt as if he can be all of himself with someone - not like this.

tommy is plant dad. he has so many plants and he takes such good care of them, and of course, since buck loves learning things, it quickly becomes a shared hobby. their monstera is their pride and joy.

tommy drinks his coffee with so many extra shots of espresso that buck usually makes a little bit of a face when he kisses him right afterwards.

tommy has a lot of small skills he’s kinda good at but not really but kind of (usually, again, born out of boredom and/or loneliness) painting, baking bread, playing the harmonica. he knows how to do these things, but whether or not his own results will be great is… a toss up. however combined with buck’s love of learning and adhd brain, they learn a lot more small skills together. kind of. for a while. until they drop it and move onto the next thing.

tommy is really good at playing the guitar and the first morning buck wakes up in his bed, he asks him about it, and he plays for him. until buck wrestles it out of his hands and puts it to the side because his boyfriend is even hotter now and he needs to get dicked down again thanks. (when they’re done, buck asks tommy to teach him and they end up doing the classic “hands over hands” move and it’s very cute but tommy keeps pressing soft little kisses to bucks shoulder and telling him he’s doing so good and it’s hngggggg… very distracting.)

tommy used to be on the swim team in high school.

tommy is indeed abby’s tommy cause i think it’s funny. it throws them both off a little bit but then tommy says something so smooth that buck forgets all about it. it doesn’t matter. they are each other’s now, fuck her. (i think tommy ended things w her amicably probably cause he was figuring out he’s gay and doesn’t have any negative nor positive feelings abt her, but when buck eventually tells him how she ended (or didn’t) things w him, tommy decides that he does have decidedly negative feelings about her actually.)

[fillinforlater]

Spaceship: Horizon - Season Finale: How did we get here?

Male Reader x Miyawaki Sakura & Choi Yena

Length: 2480 words

Tags: a lot of what the fucks, a lot of fucks, sudden sex, sex as a reward, threesome, friendly rivalry, blowjobs, forced deepthroat, 69, pussy eating, face sitting, snowballing, cowgirl, overstimulation, very numb, very exhausted, very confusing, commander!Sakura / dorky!Yena / puzzled!You

TW: Kinda forced with a lot of plot point coming together. Feel free to back read ;)

Inspiration: A lot of ppl wanted Kkura, other wanted Yena, and I wanted to finish one of my many plans I had for this season finale. This series is super old, hell, I don't even remember all the things I set up and names lol.

Credit: @midnightdancingsol for the late edit. Really saved some stuff, tbh. You're the best.

(A/N: FInally, we are! Season two wrapped up after HUGE holes in between lmao. A lot my newer reader might not even know this series exists lmao. This was always supposed to be my flagship, but yeah, I guess others are more well-liked. Enjoy this season finale, it (probably) won't be the last!)

“Hm! Look, he is waking up, Commander!”

“Stop calling me that, Yena! These titles are absurd.”

The ceiling above you is familiar. The cushions below you are familiar. The two do not evoke positive memories, unlike the two familiar voices that argue for a brief period of time, before they stop. 

Two pairs of eyes look down on you. They sparkle in excitement and thrill—at seeing you, perhaps?

“Sakura? Yena?” you call out the two names you associate with those orbs and reach for where you assume their bodies are. Texture—an arm, a hand. This is reality and not some weird lucid dream. You have experienced enough of those in the past to be cautious, but luckily, both Sakura and Yena are real.

“Welcome back!” Yena shouts. She wraps an arm around your nape and her following hug leaves you breathless for a second, her sizable breasts for another. 

“Back?” you respond, mildly confused, although it is nothing new to you that this girl says random shit again and again without explaining herself.

“Aw, Commander, look at him! He is a literal war hero and doesn’t even know it.”

Yena giggles, thus Sakura gives her a quick slap on the butt. It was certainly not a kind slap, but the idol does not look angry at all. The excitement and amusement do not disappear from her. It’s all absurd. It would all make more sense if you died and went to heaven. No more aliens that want you to record porn, just the weird, dorky, sexy guide from the spaceship and your favorite idol. Sounds like heaven, alright.

“War hero? Damn, I can’t even remember the battle I fought, but it explains why I’m dead.”

Sakura shakes her head.

“Yena, please, this poor guy is completely lost. Enlighten him about everything he asks for. We got the time.”

Yena suddenly straightens her posture. Like a news anchor delivering important, serious information, she tries to stare at you, but her attempt fails. Her laughter echoes off the walls and through the large room. She repeatedly slaps her thigh in loud amusement. Sakura looks pissed.

“Yena! Get your act together!”

“But how would you tell him? It sounds so weird when I try to put it into words!”

“Weird?” you say confusedly. “Nothing can be weird to me now. We are on a fucking spaceship with aliens that can shapeshift and want to film us have sex.”

Yena laughs again. “Oh boy, about that!”

Sakura, visibly at the end of her patience, plants an angry hand on the younger girl's mouth. She glares at her, then at you, and says with a bit of resignation:

“All of the things you just said—they changed. A lot.”

“Huh? How so?” you say while giving looks to both of the girls and their banter. If they weren’t so cute, you’d cringe at their behavior.

“A couple of weeks ago,” Sakura begins as she still suffocates a teary-eyed Yena with the palm of her hand, “we found ways to communicate with other parts of the spaceship. It is absolutely gigantic, we still have no idea how big it actually—Yena, stop it now, please—is. A couple hundred kilometers in each direction, probably. At first we thought it was a trap, that these intelligent creatures would not allow us to meet up in secret and share information. But then, we found the reason: all of them were watching your videos. Every single one of them.”

“What do you me—please, no!”

Your fingers dig into your hair. It feels sweaty, greasy, and definitely unwashed, the new stress is not helping either. Your pornography spread further than you would have imagined. If these aliens saw it, then other people saw it too. The size of this ship makes you imagine that potentially millions of humans could have seen you naked and get it going with dozens of women. Well, there goes your reputation, even if you ever return to Earth.

“Listen to her, she is not finished,” Yena says with a large grin on her ducky facial features. She places a caring hand on your shoulder, while Sakura places a not-so-caring-but-rather-threatening-hand on hers. 

“Don’t interrupt me, please.”

“I won’t, Commander.”

“I said you—never mind. Anyways, these aliens were addicted to the porn, the sex. Something about it made them lose focus. They became sloppy and made mistakes that left holes for us to not only be able to communicate with more and more people, we also made plans to get more information about this place and how we could use this addiction to our advantage.”

“Maybe you noticed it too,” Yena barges in. “Some aliens—especially your Worker—must have been very affected by it. Being irrational, less caring, all that kinda stuff.”

You nod. He certainly was affected. Uncontrollable, maniacal, not paying attention, getting desperate for more material, Worker became a junkie for your fucking porn. 

Your mind spins at the thought. Where the hell is this leading up to?

“Just a couple of days ago,” Sakura continues with intensity, her eyes wide open, “we were able to throw away all our strategies and battle plans. The aliens started to evaporate. At first we thought it was a trick by them and that they figured it out, but then we got reports that they probably died due to an overdose of your porn. We knew their deaths, or rather obliteration, was inevitable. And so we watched them evaporate, one by one, and we took control of their positions. We found all kinds of young people held as cattle, tortured as slaves or being forcefully fed food. Not all of the experiments were cruel of course, but I think everyone is delighted that this shit is over.”

Sakura takes a deep breath and pinches her forehead. Her rambling wasn’t all that coherent, but she got the point across to you, which is—

“So… we won?”

Your question lingers in the air for a bit. The smell of sweat and some fine perfume reaches your nose for the first time since you woke up from your slumber. The mattress below you feels wet, your legs are still kind of numb. 

Oh, it must have been them who gave you the drug. They wanted you to film the ultimate video to finish the aliens off. The pieces of the puzzle are slowly coming together, but the picture couldn’t look any more bizarre. 

“Yes!” Yena exclaims and lunges herself at you. Her entire body presses onto yours, from thighs, to tummy, to titties. Yena doesn’t seem to care that you’re all sweaty. She looks genuinely happy.  It feels great, this feeling of victory, of freedom, Yena pushes it all onto you. 

“After we live streamed your holy-moly-crazy-orgy to the last remaining aliens, they all evaporated.”

“It sounds so stupid,” you giggle and shake your head, “but I guess I’m glad. I bet there are still so many insane things that happened. No need to tell me now, to be honest, I’m not sure I understood the things you already told me. But can I at least know why you didn’t tell me about it?”

“So it didn’t look forced,” Sakura says with the attempt of a wink, “We had no clue if you would have been able to perform under pressure if you knew what was at stake. We also like to keep these top secret issues in a small circle.”

“Damn, you all sound like the CIA.”

Yena rubs her cheek on yours as she gives another hearty laugh. 

“Our guerilla group really developed into a whole organization. It’s gotten even worse during the three days you were asleep.”

“Wait, what?” you groan defeated. Another three days of life missed for something you can’t grasp yet. And what the hell do they mean by organization? The questions don’t stop coming.

“Don’t worry!” Sakura flails her arms as she shifts closer to you as well, “We used the Helper system to keep you hydrated.”

“Wait, how? I don’t—”

“We have some smart people among us,” Yena says, her lips pouty, for some reason, “They were able to hack into the system, which is why we can communicate and use the Helpers to our benefit. Communication, water, food, hell, even teleportation. These things are amazing.”

“I—”

You stare at the ceiling. It’s the same, it’s been the same, it has not changed.

Your eyes open to the possibility that this is all fake, a dream to make you feel better. It’s a simple explanation for the absurdity tenfolding with every word the girls say. But can it be true? A dream this realistic and detailed, with all the right changes? 

Wait, maybe you really died a war hero and this was your reward. Like in those old, ancient stories—your brain is coming full circles. Damn this drug, damn this fucked up spaceship.

“—cannot understand, but I guess it’s fine.”

Silence, then the two girls giggle.

“Yes, it’s basically long story short,” Yena blurts out, “You fucked, fucked up things happened, the Aliens are fucked and we won. Everything is fine.”

Take a deep breath through your nostrils. The air still feels real, the wetness on your skin too, but most importantly, Sakura still smells as good as she did back then. You’re not dead, thank God, and apparently a porn star war hero, thank God? 

“Okay, whatever,” you respond and force your upper body into a sitting posture, “Can I please take a shower now? I smell of sweat and… other, more obscene bodily fluids.”

“Not so fast,” Sakura responds and sits down on your legs. Fuck, they are still numb, you can’t even fiddle them out underneath her light body.

“Let me in on it too, Commander!” Yena shouts and climbs next to you. She begins to pull at your shirt, while Sakura wiggles out your pants from under your butt. 

“What the—hey stop! We don’t need to film anything anymore, right?” you fight back with words, while your body surrenders immediately.

“You are right,” Sakura says as your cock springs free, already semi-hard, “No cameras. This is just for you, your reward.”

It might not be the first time that your favorite idol has taken your cock into her mouth, but there is something absolutely incredible about this time. She, the Sakura, is literally some Commander that gives a guinea pig porn star head for winning a war against shapeshifting aliens—oh yeah, and there is Yena, rubbing her now exposed breasts on your arm as her ducky lips suck your neck. It’s impossible to let that sink in.

You moan out in pleasure. It’s a miracle that your cock still works after what happened during the last session. Then again, it is Sakura who uses her skilled tongue and lips to make you hard and throbbing. 

Judging from Yena’s annoyed hums on your ear as she nibbles on it with great care, she feels neglected. Suddenly, one of her tits is in your mouth so you lazily suck on the hard nipple. Sakura hisses from in between your legs, your cock still in the warmth of her mouth. She stops sucking and jerks you off to properly address Yena.

“What are you doing? This is his reward, not yours! You can’t use him like your plaything.”

“Oh stop it, Commander! I know you want to ride his cock badly and cum on it like the needy bitch you always were while we watched the vi—”

“Fine, shut up!”

Through their bickering, they don’t seem to realize the mess of moans and whimpers you have become. Yena’s soft breast firmly placed in your mouth leaves your mind numb yet blissful, while Sakura’s hand goes up and down your cock at high speed. It’s like she is electrically charging you, to the point where you might explode. Why the fuck does a foreign hand feel so much better on your length than your own?

“Gimme some of that too,” Yena says and leaps at your crotch. At one moment, her chest was all you could see, the next moment it’s her pink pussy, hovering above your face. 

Lips on your tip make you beg for mercy, but the two don’t have any. Sakura pushes down on the back of Yena’s head and you unexpectedly penetrate her face deeply. Your entire cock disappears in her mouth and she slobbers all over it. A mix of saliva and lipstick covers your sweaty legs.. 

“Ye-Yena, K-Kura, I can’t—”

“You don’t like it?” Sakura asks, her tone missing seriousness entirely.

“No, I—fuck!”

Throw your head back as Yena moves. The warmth of her throat is gone and back again as soon as Sakura allows it. The idol is thrusting her friend—or are they just rivals—onto your shaft ferociously. Because of Yena’s firmly placed knees next to your shoulders, you are unable to stop them. All there is is your climax. Resign to it.

“Fuck, I c-can’t, hmpf!”

As the two girls work together to suck out your semen, Yena bluntly drops her cunt onto your lips, its scent a bewitching perfume to make you forget the pain of your overstimulated dick. She tastes delicious, her nectar drips into your groaning, gasping mouth. 

“My turn, finally!”

Yena pulls her stuffed mouth away, but your twitching, probably completely red cock doesn’t stay cold for long as Sakura lifts herself up and after a long hum goes down on your length, it bottoms out with ease, and your mind shuts off.

“So good!” Sakura screams and starts to ride you with no regards to your exhaustion or obvious overstimulation. Her body, flawless skin, flawless proportions, flawless everything, is uncontrollably fast yet she still finds a way to make it a show. Somehow, she is able to lift one of Yena’s legs high to give you a view of what is to come (granted, through Yena’s slick and suffocation, your eyesight is a bit dazed) and then pulls the cum-stuffed duck into a messy kiss. 

It’s not snowballing, it’s an avalanche. Cum drips from their loosely connected lips and tumbles down Sakura’s curves. Weird sucking and licking sounds fill the room as Yena tries to drink your whiteness before Sakura can steal it. The two girls fight and Yena continues to ride your face to not be outdone by the eager Sakura. You feel the remaining snow drip down on your tense torso, but they are eager to lick it off of you. 

This drags on for minutes, until their mix of pants, teases, giggles and actual words are only feral moans. In the confines of Sakura’s cavern, you survived the overstimulation and are ready for another release and possible death if the horny idol doesn’t stop afterwards. Luckily, she seems close as well. Yena also starts to rub her own clit frantically, more and more of her juice covers your features. 

The moment you all cum is surprisingly silent. There is a gasp here and there, wet smooches from fucking and face riding, but other than that, you all succumb to your release rather quietly. Sakura fucks your rod and it’s erupting seed deep into her cunt, while you make sure to open up for Yena to dump her fresh nectar into you. 

Wait a minute. Whose reward was this supposed to be again?

(A/N2: maybe mine? 😉😳)

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Scorpio Curse (König x F!OC)

Part 2/3 of Valkyrie

(Part 1 here)

Summary: König gets an order to make a female SpecGru sniper talk, but König doesn't want to hurt women.

Category: Smut 🔞, angst, fluff

Tags & warnings: Explicit mature content +18 audiences only, strangers to lovers (slight enemies to lovers), dubious consent, threats of rape, virgin!König, size kink, size difference, p in v, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, squirting, hugs and cuddles, super fluffy ending. König will be named in later chapters. 

Part 2: Mostly König who is in desperate need of a hug (don't worry, he will get it soon enough :*)

A/N: KorTac and SpecGru are rivaling military contractors, Conor is König's superior (and a huge villain), and I just wanted to write angsty smut featuring our favourite Austrian boi. 

"You should've come to me, König."

He was still here.

No one had told him to leave his stuff and sign the papers and get the fuck out.

He had been called to see the team leader, though.

Immediately.

"It's true that we don't do that shit. Especially with the SpecGru, not after everything that already went through."

He told his side of the story, and apparently, the command agreed that Conor had made a mistake.

"Your superior officer slipped, but that doesn't mean you have the right to do whatever the fuck you deem more appropriate."

The leader's cheeks were red, and his voice traveled from peaceful, tired account to a booming loud yell.

"To tell you the truth, König, you're good at what you do. But pull this kind of shit again, and the KorTac will ensure you lose your rifle for good. They'll make sure you'll get spat in the face in every fucking PMC on this fucking planet, you hear me?"

He was surprised he didn't catch spit flying right now.

"Sir."

"Now go fix that goddamn fence."

"Yes, sir. Right away, sir."

König, former weapons sergeant of the Jagdkommando and current operator of the special forces known as KorTac, felt like a fresh recruit when he turned heel and marched from the office. He thought about asking whether the surveillance tape would be destroyed or if it was already but sensed that this was not the best moment to ask questions. The leader's tired voice followed him as he walked away with cold sweat tingling down his back.

"Jesus. Where did you even get those bolt cutters.."

He worked half a day to get it right. Repairing the fence was easy, but fixing it so that it wasn't a weak spot in the area's defense was not. He had kneeled down in this exact same spot less than 24 hours ago, with a tense, silent cargo thrown on his back in a fireman's carry.

He had yanked the door to the surveillance room open to let the men know they could get a coffee break while he watched the prisoner — only to find that there was no one there. He had been played twice the fool, and she had paid the price. He wasn't man enough to tell her it had been all in vain when he went to get her.

He certainly wasn't going to tell her that he would still do it all again.

She stayed mute the whole journey to the fence, remained quiet even when he placed her gently on the ground and showed her the hole he had made on the chain link fence for her to crawl through.

"There you go, little Walküre."

She stared at his work for a while, sniffed, then looked up at him.

"You think you can fit through that?" He asked, although he had made sure the hole was big enough for even him to go through.

"Yeah…" she uttered her first words since forever before reaching for her road to freedom. Realizing she was still tied, she pivoted back.

"My hands.." she started, but he was already kneeling on the ground with his combat knife pulled out. With utter care, he cut her loose. She caught him after it was done, and he glanced at those tiny fingers that barely reached to close around his wrists.

"Thank you."

He raised his stare, and her eyes bored into his as she ensured her words had sunk in. Then she turned, dived for the hole… but turned back again.

"König."

He had enough time to discover that the naked pain in her eyes was of the exact same kind as the agony spreading in his heart before she leaped to him, threw her arms around him — and suddenly, he was home.

"Don't get yourself killed." Her voice was a muffled sob that hit his skin through the mask as she pressed her face against his neck and squeezed him with a surprising amount of strength. Dumbfounded, he raised his arms but wasn't sure if she would welcome the touch. He didn't want her to think he would seize her just when she had been offered a way out.

"Promise that you won't get killed."

He knew that he would probably get maimed for this. At the very least, he would lose his contract. But he hadn't even thought about it when he made that hole and carried her here.

She released him and pulled back. Her eyes were pure attention, a time-halting awareness that seized him without warning. It didn't matter that he was loaded with gear, that he had a helmet and a mask on. She could see him. All of him. And she smiled.

Then she reached for his mask.

He did nothing to stop her as she grabbed the hood and started to lift it. His vision went black with the ascending cloth for the longest second…

And then he could see again — see her wide eyes roam his face. The silence was pierced by a few raindrops, the first of an impending heavy rain. They landed on his helmet and on his arm guards, specked on her cheeks as they fell from the heavy clouds above them.

"Wow," she breathed, with parted lips and eyes that sparkled.

She grabbed his helmet through the cloth and pushed both the hood and the piece of metal away. The bundle landed somewhere next to him with a soft clunk a second before her lips pressed against his.

Rain fell, and with it, the paint from around his eyes — all the black he had surrounded himself with ran down his cheeks and neck, all the way under the collar of his shirt and over his heart that thumped like a maniac. They were in a warm August shower together, and she pulled him by his neck, threatened to swallow him, and he could do nothing but melt and surrender and answer with the same gentle hunger.

Her fingers swept across his chin; they caressed his temples, brushed his scalp, and tugged at his hair, not hindered by the fact that there wasn't much to grab hold of in the classic military undercut. They slid down his neck, grabbed his tactical vest, and pulled him deeper into the kiss. She sucked his lip, kissed the raindrops away, and he was hard as a rock even in the pants that were soaked and cool.

When she relented, all too soon, he would've given everything to freeze time and stay there. Under that hail, kneeled in that mud — with her, forever.

"I can't go through that fence unless you promise me," she panted in his mouth, and every single fiber in his body told him not to promise anything. He wanted to grab her instead, take her back, tuck her somewhere safe, and keep her as his own.

"Ok," he whispered.

A gush of hot air landed on his face as she gave a short laugh.

"Ok what?" She smiled against his mouth, her teeth colliding with his lips.

"I… promise."

"'Atta boy," he felt the words before he heard them, and she kissed him once more, and he could've drowned in that kiss. In those words.

"I'll never forget this," she said, lips wet with all that rain, eyes blinking through the drops that slithered down her face and got caught in her lashes.

I'll never forget you.

"No problem."

"No problem…? God. Could you get any more charming?"

She thought he was charming…

"Just one more thing, hero."

She bit her lip, looked down on the soaked grass, then up at him, and smiled.

“What’s with the hood? I really don’t get it. You look super nice.” She winked an eye at him. And then she turned and crawled through that hole and vanished into the darkness.

He was left alone in the descending rain, and there he had remained ever since.

He was convinced he still had her scent on him. He never washed that shirt he had been wearing the day he lifted her in his lap. He tried to catch her from it, and for a few days, he thought he actually did. But then that scent became only a memory.

Nevertheless, it followed him everywhere. No one knew that he was encompassed by it. That he was shrouded with her as he walked the base or rose on the plane.

Days passed by, and he still felt her lips on his own. Her taste in his mouth. Felt her legs around him, her soft walls surrounding him.

He replayed the frenzied vision over and over again in his head to remind himself that he had truly been inside her. That he had made her produce all those sounds. Made her clench around him and smell like honeydew and summers by the lake. He realized that he had started to truly live only after he had opened the door to that bleak room full of her. And then his life froze like a movie that was pressed on an eternal pause as he saw the soles of her boots push against the muddy ground to get her through that fence and away from him.

Three weeks passed — three weeks without her.

He did his job, went on missions, and executed orders to the letter.

But mostly, he was in his thoughts.

Mostly, he thought of her.

He thought of her when he had a rifle in his hand during ops. He thought of her during briefings, when he did deadlifts, racked a barbell after bench press, or sparred with training knives.

He thought of her in showers, in the mess hall, and most of all, in bed at night when he stroked himself to a release that eased his sleep.

He had never been so virile, not even as a teen. His libido was off the roof as the only thing he could think about was how he could get to jerk himself off in the shower stall or in his bunk after the day was done. Thoughts of her were his reward, the only thing that seemed to sustain him.

She was the most radiant thing in his life: everything else had faded away, turned to gray and black. Monotone, lifeless, empty. The pain faded for a while every time he came into his fist. Then it hit him with an even more crippling force as he realized that she wasn't real; she wasn't here.

Still, he fantasized what it would be like to hold her after, how they would drift off to sleep together. He envisioned her skin, her scent, her hair. The top of her head against his chin, her little hands around his neck, her laugh, all of it.

Sometimes when he had a hard day, he fantasized how her body would press softly against his back, and she would slide an arm around him, and it would disappear beneath his shirt. Her palm would come and rest right where his heart was, and she would just hold him.

On the worst days, he cried. He thought of the bullies and what they would say and how they would laugh if they saw him now, curled up in the soiled sheets with a cock in his hand, falling asleep on a tear-soaked pillow.

After a few months, he started to dissolve.

He got reckless on the field — jumped out of the helo before it had even landed properly, was all sloppy with his cover, wasted bullets, and revealed his position for the sake of getting up close and personal, for having the satisfaction of killing his opponents with a knife or with his bare hands.

People complained. Hutch complained, Fender complained — even Zero complained.

Some said it was just good old König, that he didn't care. Medics said he had a guardian angel with him when he never got hit, got barely even scratched when at the same time, some of the best operators were severely injured.

And some saw right through it.

"He fell in love with that sniper bitch. That's what's wrong with 'im," Conor had said.

He had nearly attacked the man for what he said — what he had called her. His angel.

But he knew that's what Conor wanted: to taunt him into making a mistake that would result in his dismissal from the force. Would probably destroy his chances to continue a career anywhere in the military. And then he would quickly find himself in civilian life, where he had never quite fit into.

"Promise me you won't get killed."

He had promised her to stay alive, and he couldn't disappoint her. So it became a prayer. Every night he made an offering to her, so she would keep him safe. No bullet could touch him. He knew that somehow she could feel his longing, the love he had for her. She would protect her like the war maiden that she was. And even if he caught that bullet, he knew it would only take him to heaven. She had already carried him there.

Six months without her, and people started to fear him.

His teammates looked at him with dread as he geared up for missions with the secret knowledge that he was practically immortal. The team leader said he resembled a machine, and he took it as a compliment. Even Lieutenant kept his mouth shut and looked at him with something akin to respect.

But he got even more time off when he wanted the exact opposite. He was pretty sure that there was a note in his file now. Right after the screaming red words released a prisoner without the requisite order from a superior officer. A comment that said he was behaving wrong, that he was unstable or something. They offered him cognitive therapy, sleeping pills, meditation groups, ice baths, even acupuncture. He turned it all down, knowing that it was no use.

And so they sent him home more and more often.

It was even worse there. He never wanted the leaves, but KorTac was firm in their protocol. Contract soldiers needed time off duty to prevent "substantial impairment concerning the operator's ability to work." Even if he wanted to, he couldn't stay in the barracks and get every mission he could get his hands on.

He sat in his apartment, slept late, went for a swim, went to the gym, and came back to sit and sleep. He thought of her when he walked the streets with a hole in his chest, a hole as deep as the Mariana Trench. He saw her in all the women of the same height and weight as her. At some point, he realized he had never paid so much attention to women as he did now.

"Go get a pint and a girl, König. Just get it out of your head."

Zero meant well, but he could've punched him too for saying that.

He didn't want a girl; he wanted her.

Pint sounded good, though. He had visited the nearest pub only a few times before, but the place had only reminded him that he was not home and that pubs were different from bierstubes. But right now, he didn't want to go back to that cold, dark flat to stare at the ceiling and wait till sleep would come.

He pushed the door open and stomped his feet on the mat even though it didn't rain outside. He walked further into the dimly lit hall and saw that early evening wasn't the busiest time in this place: more than half of the tables were empty.

And then he looked for the counter and saw her.

His Kriegsmädchen was there.

His Walküre was here.

She was here and looked just the way he remembered her — no, even more luminous. Glowing.

Perhaps he had finally lost it. But he kept looking, blinking, and saw her fingertips curl around a glass, saw the hair she had tied into a high ponytail, the smile that spread across her face just before she laughed.

The angelic sound went straight between his legs and stabbed a hole in his gut, and he was bleeding — months and months of pain, right there in the hallway of a quiet pub.

She was alive and safe, laughing, and so lovely that his hands started to tremble just as they had when his bullies approached him back in school. It was odd because she was everything but. He took a step, heart thumping and palms sweating, like he was approaching an enemy he knew he had to finish with his bare hands.

He walked to the counter in the eye of a storm, and she evaded his gaze and tried to act like she didn't even notice that some man was striding toward her.

Did men approach her often?

Of course they did. And she tried to look like an immovable stone, a prey that wouldn't draw attention.

"Walküre?"

And only then did she turn her gaze, eyes filled with both fear and hope.

Her mouth opened, and she drew a sharp breath, shoulders tense. He had to fight tooth and nail to not grab her and press her against that counter or kiss her, devour her while he carried her off out that door...

"... Valkyrie?" Her friend repeated sarcastically, with a birth of a laugh on her lips, staring at him like he was a circus attraction. He didn't spare even a glance her way.

Couldn't, because he was mesmerized by the most soothing gaze in the world.

"Hi," she breathed, voice almost breaking.

His eyes went straight to her lips as she said it, the sound far too similar in his mind to the breaths that had escaped her in that dull, grey room.

She cleared her throat and swallowed.

"Kate, this is… Siegfried. A friend from my old job."

He knew he should move, look to the side, and say hello. Act normal. But he couldn't move, couldn't even blink.

She pursed her lips and looked down at her drink, at her friend, and then back up at him.

"Nice to meet you," her friend spoke, and he finally managed to turn his eyes toward her and nod slowly.

“You must be the battering ram.” She took a sip of her drink with a flash of eyebrows.

He heard a sharp inhale from beside him and only wanted to ignore everything and everyone else in the room except for the one who gasped like that.

“You know, the one they send to charge through doors?”

“Done that too.”

The friend called Kate's eyes widened from the stare he knew made most people uncomfortable.

"What are you doing here?"

His angel spoke, and he turned. She was looking even more beautiful with flushed cheeks. It was strange to see her like this: sitting gracefully on that bar stool, wearing jeans and a bit of mascara. She wasn't covered in dirt and sleepless nights and fear, and he realized that he never wanted to see her like that again. He wanted her safe and sound, and happy; even if she had come on this earth to fight, just like he, even if she was deadly with a rifle. Even if she was a more able-bodied sniper than he ever could be.

"To get a lager."

"No, I mean," she laughed, sending warmth between his legs, "Why are you here, here?"

After a blink or two, he realized she meant the town.

"I'm on leave. I live here."

"Oh." She bit her lip. "Kate, um. Would you… Would you mind if we catch up a bit?"

He saw from the corner of his eye that the woman looked him up and down, and then a smile started to creep up her face.

"You know what June, I think I'm gonna head home. You two catch up for as long as you need and I'll see ya later, ok?"

Her name was June.

Like midsummer fests and seagulls and Radler.

Honey and raindrops…

"I'll go grab a table," he declared, thinking how odd that sounded, thinking whether his English was somehow off. As if he was going to physically grab a table and raise it in the air...

Kate chuckled behind his back as he turned and headed for a darker, more private corner.

"Jesus Christ, June… I knew you did some special commando shit, but that guy is -"

"Will you keep your voice down?"

"I mean… If you catch up all night, I doubt you'll be able to walk tomorrow."

"Kate…! "

The rest of the exchange of words faded as he reached the table and adjusted the chairs to be able to sit down.

Then he noticed that he was still wearing his jacket and got up to take it off. He saw her coming with her drink in hand, and she flashed a smile at him as he threw the leather bomber across the chair next to him.

"Nice jacket."

He looked down at the dark brown leather, worn and looking mostly what people called vintage or something.

"You gonna go get that beer, sweetie?"

Sweetie.

Sweetie.

"Ja," he nodded, turned, and marched back to the counter.

He ordered a beer, then asked what the lady over there was having.

"I think she, ah… ordered a mojito." The bartender extended his neck to the side to glance at their table. "Yeah, that's a mojito."

"One of those as well."

The man gave him a look that distinctly said You really think you're gonna get some of that? He didn't know what it was in his aura that told people he was a loser. Or a menace. And he didn't know which of those looks made the pain worse. But all of it faded instantly as she greeted him with a shy smile when he returned to the table with the drinks.

"Oh, you shouldn't have… I haven't even finished this one." She raised those lovely eyes at him, smiling, smiling… "Thank you, König."

Her fingertips brushed his as he gave it to her, the glass sweating with tiny cold drops of condensed water. She had pale pink, almost nude nail polish that made her nails look shiny and pure, her hands even more delicate. She watched as he scoured through the chairs to take a seat, pick a coaster and place his own glass on the table.

"A big one."

She then turned those playful faerie eyes on him, and he was suddenly grateful that he had picked the loose, black cargo pants to wear today… and that he was sitting.

"This is considered a small beer where I come from."

"I'm sure it is," she chuckled. The tight, white t-shirt she wore reminded him of the first time he had seen her, even though it was not one of those heavy cotton, military shirts. He grabbed the beer to do something, anything, and raised it to his lips, almost pouring the liquid all over him when he took a sip. She watched him gulp and smiled even wider. He was half hard at that point and had to spread his legs to accommodate and conceal what was happening in his pants and under the table.

"What about you, Walküre? What are you doing here?"

"I'm helping a friend -uh, Kate. She had an awful breakup."

He nodded and kept picking up his beer, drinking a small sip and trying to hit the center of the coaster as he set the glass back down.

"You're not with SpecGru anymore?"

"I signed off one week after… After. You know."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said, even though he wasn't sorry at all. At least, not for the fact that she was out of harm's way.

"Nah, don't be. It was for the best. I'm able to sleep at night and everything."

She had trouble sleeping? Maybe that's why she looked even more radiant than before. She had slept well.

"I was worried about you."

"Really?" she tilted her head to the side, and her eyes started to shine even brighter.

"... that you might not find your way home."

"I'm a big girl. Trained with the Green Berets and everything.. But it warms my heart to hear that. I worried about you, too."

"You did?"

"Yeah. Sure, I mean… I was afraid you'd get into some trouble because of me."

Someone laughed at the next table, but the unexpected sound reached him through a comfortable haze; like he was sitting underwater. The battlefield wasn't nearly as distressing an environment as this peaceful pub - or any other place he rarely visited. But this time, with her, it was not too bad. His senses were blown wide, but he wasn't afraid.

"Also ja… They did yell at me."

"That's horrible. I could never yell at you."

He felt himself nearly choke on the beer, tried to breathe through his nose, and forced the liquid down with an audible gulp.

"You kept your promise," she said in a low voice, her smile fading slightly. Her eyes locked with his, and he basked in the warmth.

"Natürlich."

I prayed for you every single night, Kriegsmädchen.

She gave him a small, sad smile and looked down, swirling her ice-filled glass.

"You know I…" she started, took a breath, then another. "I've missed you, König."

He squeezed the tall glass before realizing that it might actually break at some point.

"I've missed you too, Walküre."

He looked at his beer, still halfway full, and then at the completely untouched drink he had brought her.

"You want to go to my place?"

Part 3:

[suzukiblu]

Guessing game: Farm

Context: a familial soulmates AU is happening to newly-decanted baby clone "Superman" and Ma and Pa "it's free alien baby" Kent.

The waitress comes back with the drinks and asks if they're ready to order, and then they have to actually read the menu. She leaves them to it. The Zesti does taste really good, but Superman has a hard time concentrating on the menu and barely resists the urge to glance up at Jonathan and Martha every five seconds.

"Oh, wait–can you read yet, kiddo, or do you need some help with that?" Jonathan asks with a faint frown as he glances up at him himself, and somehow the question doesn't sound judgmental at all.

Weird, Superman thinks again.

"Yeah," he says. "Um–Cadmus was educating me with information uploads. I didn't finish them, but I can read and write and do, like . . . well, some math, anyway. I got through trig and precalc, mostly. Uh, and some chemistry and biology. And, like, I can speak English and Spanish and a little Mandarin, and I know basic ASL. I don't think I'm actually as smart as they thought I was gonna be, though, some of it's kinda . . . confusing, to be honest? And they only ever showed me stuff once, I think they just thought I'd . . . you know, get it."

"You're two weeks old!" Martha says with an exasperated huff. "Those damn morons, you're gonna need a lot more than two weeks' worth of yellow sun before you're going to get the eidetic memory or the enhanced intelligence."

"The–what?" Superman blinks. Jonathan and Martha glance at each other, oddly, and then back to him.

"Superman had perfect recall," Jonathan says. "Hyperthymesia. A photographic memory, you might call it."

"Oh," Superman says, blinking again. "Uh–I didn't know that."

"I don't know how much most people ever thought about it, so far as his powers went," Jonathan says with a shrug. "Not quite as flashy as the heat vision or the flying. Actually it's a surprise you can fly this quick, come to think."

"I'm sort of . . . cheating," Superman mutters, ducking his head. "My Kryptonian physiology isn't developed enough to give me the real powers yet and they didn't know how long it might take for them to come in, so they sort of . . . there's like this . . . field, kind of, that the original Superman put off? Subconscious telekinesis, I guess. Skin-tight force field, basically. It's why bullets weren't ripping up his suit all the time and why he could, like, pick up a whole freaking bus or whatever one-handed and it wouldn't just break in half from the fucked-up–uh, the messed-up support. The field would just wrap around whatever he was touching and reflexively keep it together. So Cadmus just kinda . . . copied that and cranked it up to eleven, for me. So I'm telekinetic, kind of?"

"Huh," Martha says, looking a little puzzled. "You know, that never even occurred to me, but it certainly explains a few things."

"It only works when I'm touching something," Superman says, fidgeting uncomfortably and feeling kind of like . . . well, he guesses his powers not being the same as the original Superman's were yet isn't gonna disappoint the Kents, right? Like, why would they care? "It's tactile-based. But I can always use it on myself. So I can fly and pick up real heavy shit and hit like I've got super-strength and make it look like I'm invulnerable. No heat vision or ice breath or X-ray vision or, uh, eidetic memory, though. Or super-speed or super-senses."

And definitely, definitely no enhanced intelligence.

"So you mean you're going to be stronger than Superman was?" Martha asks with a little frown, and Superman . . . blinks.

"Uh . . . I don't think so?" he says uncertainly, not sure where she got that idea. "I don't know how the hybridization of my DNA will affect, like . . . any of the Kryptonian powers. They might turn out weaker than his were, since my genes are sort of already adapted for a yellow sun."

"I don't know, being primed to process yellow sunlight might make your powers end up stronger, on that logic," Jonathan points out reasonably. "Once you grow into them a bit, anyway. And either way you'll have the telekinesis enhancing your strength and invulnerability, and that might get stronger too. And, well, at least some hybrids have a tendency to turn out bigger and stronger than their parent species."

Superman tilts his head. Blinks a couple times.

"Huh," he says.

Well, there's a really freaking cool and absolutely fucking terrifying thought.

"How do you know all that?" he asks. "Are you a biologist or something?"

"I'm a farmer, son," Jonathan says wryly. "I'm talking about mules and wolfdogs."

"You're a farmer?" Superman repeats in absolute bemusement.

"We both are, dear," Martha says. "All our lives. We live out in Smallville, actually, we're just here visiting . . . well. Clark's fianc��e. Her name is Lois."

"Where's Smallville?" Superman asks, still bemused.

"Kansas," Martha says. "We have a little farm out there. And . . . well, we'd very much like to take you in, obviously, though I don't know where you're staying right now."

"Just, like–wherever, right now," Superman says awkwardly, trying not to sound as pathetic as he's pretty sure he does even as he wonders how that's supposed to be "obvious". He's not, like, a little kid or anything. It's not like he can't take care of himself. "Like, it's not really . . . just wherever."

Jonathan and Martha glance at each other. Superman feels embarrassed. It's not like it matters where he's staying, and like, he'll find a place, eventually, just . . . he hasn't quite figured out how to do that yet. That's all.

Cadmus, unfortunately, did not prepare him to ever live . . . well. Outside of Cadmus.

"Would you like to visit, at least? Take a look around?" Jonathan offers. "It's not too far a flight from Metropolis."

"Um . . . maybe," Superman says, really not sure what he'd ever do on a farm of all places. Like, in what way is a farm a "Superman" kind of place to be?

Though he guesses it'd be politer than making Jonathan and Martha come to Metropolis. And if they actually . . . if they really want to see him . . .

He could swing by sometimes, that's all. He guesses he'd have to be careful about doing it because probably the Kents aren't gonna want anybody to know they're his soulmates, given the whole "being civilians" thing. Maybe he can just . . . just pretend to be . . . he doesn't know, exactly? Just–maybe some random distant relative or something. Maybe they have some cousins or whatever. Or just . . . something.

Superman actually has no idea how many people hang out with their extended family members like that, to be honest, but it's the best idea he's coming up with right now.

[noses-in-winter]

Hey, She Has To Wake Up, Anyway (18+)(F sneeze, F/M, tickling into sneezing awake, foreplay)

These characters are Lor Sheldon, awkward nonbinary guy who is terminally horny, especially about noses and everything they can do! He has a hard time not feeling shy about that. He's extremely bisexual and gives off that energy, don't worry. I've written about him here and here. Feat. his total soulmate Piper (who I just wrote about here!) who is also terminally horny and is SO pumped about getting Lor to explore his kinks. They're both mid-30s in this which is when they're peak obsessed with each other.

In this fic, Lor wakes Piper up from a nap by making her sneeze (it's cool, they've talked about this, she's into it). Lot of detail about how he's touching her nostrils and stuff. Went kinda wild there.

please don't reblog to non-sneeze blogs, minors do not follow or interact THANKS

She had encouraged him more than enough times for Lor to believe that Piper meant it when she said she would be happy to…indulge him, with anything he wanted to do regarding her nose, and the fantasies he had associated with it. Christ, he had a lot of fantasies. Thank fuck he hadn’t divulged them all the last time they were stoned together. Even so, Lor still cringed at the fuzzy memory of spilling such an intimate detail of his life. Willingly! No gun to his temple or anything! 

God, he told her so…so…so much about it. “It” being sneezing. How it made him feel…something. Especially about her…something. And sometimes his…something, if he was being honest, but that was not a something that Lawrence Sheldon was willing to face. 

 Her positive response to his confession was damn near intoxicating, though. Piper had been so…supportive. Happy, even. Cradling his face with one hand and using the other to lace her fingers with his. 

She’d made a few changes since then that would seem uneventful to the man who found these actions completely vanilla. Lor didn’t have the courage to comment yet but, Jesus, did he notice. He noticed how she evidently skipped her bottle of daily antihistamines once or two mornings a week. Piper’s allergies didn’t knock her down the way Lor’s could unmedicated, but she still sneezed more often with heightened intensity. She also started to let her voice go a little high as she was gearing up for a sneeze in a way that made his dick so fucking hard--

Shit, shit, he needed to cool it. Piper still slept soundly with her head in his lap. The last thing he needed was for his needy cock to stir her. 

They’d had a few conversations on the topic since then. None that lasted long, before Lor felt too shy to continue. Piper never rushed him. She simply made sure he always knew that she was 100% ready whenever he wanted to explore this fascination together. 

“Surprise me, Sheldon. I’m up for anything. You’re in charge.” 

Woah, fuck, why did that turn him on so much every time he remembered it? 

Piper would answer favorably if he were able to ask her permission. No doubt in his mind about it. There would be zero hesitation. So it would be…okay, right? To just do it? 

He swallowed, the light of the television casting shadows around the room. He had to get Piper’s head out of his lap, anyway, right? She never wanted to stay on the couch too long after falling asleep. They both always seemed to sleep better when they drifted off in each other’s arms in bed. They woke up apart, reliably, but that much-needed intimacy while fading into sleep was…also intoxicating. Still foreign to the both of them, certainly, but also welcoming and comfortable. Safe. Loving. Home.

Yeah. Yeah, she’d want him to make a move. 

Lor took a deep breath before beginning.

He started by lightly setting an index finger on her pointed nose. Piper simply continued to breathe in and out steadily as she lay facing the television. With a little more pressure, her nose started to scrunch. Piper sniffed once, nestling her temple into his thigh. Fuck, she was cute.

Lor swallowed, watching to see if she was stirring awake. Weed typically turned her into a pretty deep sleeper, but he was too paranoid not to check. Once Lor was satisfied with the low rumble of her snore, he continued. 

He rubbed the tip of her nose in small, slow circles. Fuck, okay, he was already sweaty just watching the way her nostrils moved with the teasing little pushes. He added a touch more pressure when Piper seemed unbothered. Hmm. Okay. Rubbing wasn’t all that effective, was it? Maybe…something else? External?

Lor glanced around at his surroundings before his eyes settled on the down blanket draped over Piper’s sleeping form. Perfect. He already saw the quill of a feather waiting to be pulled out of one slight snag in the fabric.

Lor pinched the quill and eased it out of the pillow. Ohhhkay, it was lengthy and perfectly fluffy. His stomach gave a flustered little flip at the sheer mental image of each delicate little tuft brushing against the equally delicate inner walls of Piper’s--

Hoooooo, fuck. Focus on the mission, Sheldon.

 After tracing around Piper’s nostrils a few times, Lor watched carefully to gauge a reaction. Again, she mostly sniffled and scrunched her nose. It wasn’t until he took a deep breath and managed to ease the feather into her nose that Piper’s nostrils flared in response to the stroke of afterfeather. Oh. Not only did her nostrils flare, they goddamn quivered. 

Piper sniffled sharply. Made a little noise in the back of her throat. Her hand moved. Lor pulled the feather out of her nose just before Piper could knuckle at her nostrils. He supposed the way the feather brushed the walls of her nose on the way out wasn’t helping things, judging by the little snag of her breath. 

She grumbled, now half-asleep as she rubbed at her nose. It didn’t seem like Piper was aware of Lor’s intervention, but he held his breath, anyway. 

Piper’s lashes fluttered, but she didn’t fully open her eyes in the light of the television. She stopped scrubbing so aggressively at her nose, but the back of her hand now lingered a few inches before her face. She sniffled with mounting congestion, nostrils now a quivering pink. She breathed in slow, sleepy pants. 

He tried again. Piper reacted sooner this time, almost the exact moment that the tender feather stroked at her septum. One nostril scrunched with a snort as she murmured wordlessly. Piper pressed the back of her hand to the underside of her nose, scrubbing and scrubbing until Lor heard a truly shiver-worthy squelch. When she lowered her arm, there was a streak of dampness on the back of her hand. Lor fought an eager little squirm at the very vision. 

Gauging how far he could go this time, Lor once more considered his options as Piper settled again. Even as she rested comfortably beneath the quilt, her nostrils still scrunched and spasmed with sniffly breaths. 

….Huh. 

He moved slowly, carefully, to give Piper’s nostrils a light pinch with his thumb and index finger. Lor’s stomach dropped pleasantly, as if he were on the best roller coaster of his life, when Piper’s nostrils fought to flare against his fingertips. He didn’t budge. She took in a truly nostril-quaking sniffle in response, eyebrows beginning to knit together.

Nostril-quaking. Jesus, he was going to have to incorporate that one into his internal Horny Lexicon. 

Piper’s breath finally started to snag, now that her nostrils weren’t allowed to squirm out of her control. That tickle progressed rapidly before his eyes.

This was the greatest idea of his life. 

Lor eased his fingers off of Piper’s reddened nostrils. They immediately widened, taking up as much space as they could. Though her nostrils had as much freedom to quiver as possible, the damage had been done. Lor watched for several beats, waiting until the perfect moment to give the underside of Piper’s nose one slooooow stroke with the feather.

That pushed her over the edge. She convulsed with a sneeze covered by nothing but the back of her hand at a distance. Piper’s head bounced slightly in Lor’s lap as her whole body shuddered, buckling into itself. “Hed’DTSCHH’ooh!!”

Lor’s stomach flipped at the vision of a fine mist bursting from her urged nose. Jesus, he could write an entire thesis on the way the sheer strength of that sneeze was increased by her nose’s initial resistance alone. Piper took in one gulping breath before sneezing again, completely uncovered this time, nostrils shuddering out another expulsion of mist. 

Piper let out the littlest moan of relief after that second sneeze tumbled out of her. She fanned lazily beneath her nose, using the same hand that she had just sneezed against. Piper sniffled and finally opened her eyes. Her gaze was fixed on the television for several moments before she sneezed again, taunted by the glow of the screen. “Addh’DTSHH! Hh…hh! HuhHHD’schoo!”

“Bless you…” Lor said quietly, cheeks burning. He could lean over to the end table to grab the box of tissues, but the thought didn’t even occur to him. At the moment, he was nothing but thoroughly enchanted with the way Piper’s nose just…moved. When she sneezed. When she was gearing up for or recovering from a sneeze. When she was just relaxed enough with him to be so comfortable with letting her nose control her for a moment. 

Piper didn’t say anything straight away. She started to ease up from her place on the couch, letting out one uncovered sneeze halfway through the process. F-Fuck, the mist of that sneeze in the light of the television was mesmerizing, wasn’t it? 

Piper took in two rapid, gambling hitches as another sneeze crept up on her. Oh. Oh, she just wasn’t stopping. This time, Piper was able to yank the collar of her shirt over her nose. She kept herself steady with one arm on the couch, but was promptly knocked off-kilter when she sneezed damply into her shirt. Lor wrapped both arms around Piper’s torso, keeping her as steady as possible. He leaned back into the couch, bringing Piper with him. 

“Bless you,” Lor breathed, blinking at Piper in a lovestruck gaze. Feelings of affection and attraction flooded him as Lor dipped his head to set a kiss in Piper’s hair. “A lot. You okay, babe?”

“Mmm..sdf! Fuck, sorry…” she exhaled, finally managing to sit up fully on the couch. Lor dutifully let her go. Piper started to blink slowly, adjusting her eyes to the light. “Didn’t mean to sneeze like a spray bottle there. Jesus, I really needed that, though. My nose f-feels---sdf, ugh, I dunno…itchy….”

“I-It’s okay,” he answered too quickly. Lor gulped and fumbled for the tissue box on the table. “I don’t mind. I mean, you know I don’t, but…y’know.” 

Piper nodded, rubbing lazily beneath her nose. She seemed to be flaring her nostrils consciously, as if testing if there was another sneeze hidden anywhere. “Yeah, I do. I dunno, I dreamed something was…in my nose? And it tickled like a motherfuck, like a-...” 

She trailed off. Lor followed Piper’s gaze until it reached the feather that sat in his lap. Lor was quiet for several seconds before a low chuckle rumbled in Piper’s chest. She gave him a knowing little smirk as she reached for him. 

“Shel. You beautiful slut. Did you…?”

He felt like he was shrinking beneath her gaze. Lor gulped and glanced away, shame flooding every inch of him. “Um. I-I’m sorry. It was…”

“Hey, hey. Don’t be,” Piper hummed, reaching for him with ease. “That’s hot. Seriously. No idea you had it in you, Sheldon.” She snorted with laughter. This, apparently, stirred another tickle in her. Piper sniffled sharply, reaching to pinch at the freckled bridge of her nose. She massaged up and down. “Hoh, fuck. It’s right there.” Piper eased her free hand down to his thigh, delivering a squeeze to it. Her other hand continued to rub up and down the side of her nose with steady care.  

“...C-Can I help you?” Lor asked on a nervous breath. 

She gave him a slow, sexy bat of her eyelashes before her expression crumbled with a shaky hitch. The sneeze seemed to back off almost immediately, allowing Piper to scoot closer to him. Oh, fuck. Okay. Yeah. He could do this. Piper tilted her head back as she faced him, nostrils exposed perfectly to Lor. She moved closer to him on the couch, hand still in contact with his leg. He swallowed fiercely, enchanted with the way her nostrils squirmed and flared with each breath she took. Was she doing this on purpose? Or was this just naturally happening to her body? Both were incredibly sexy explanations. 

Lor set one hand on the small of Piper’s back before easing the feather back into her nostril. This just sent her nostrils quivering further. Her chest started to rise and fall at a faster pace than a moment ago. 

Lor didn’t stop. He continued to steadily twist it around in her right nostril. Her breath snagged as Piper gave her head a shallow nod. Okay. He could see it in her face. That tickled. He was--he was going to make her sneeze. And she was helping him do it. And she was okay with that. 

Piper let her head loll lazily to one side. Lor followed her motions with his hand, feather still held tight between his fingers. He carefully stroked down the inner walls of her nose before Piper let out a stuffy little chuckle. “Th-That feels kinda good, Lor...” 

“Y-Yeah?” Lor clarified, a smile starting to twitch at his lips. “Think I can…make it better?” 

Piper could only nod, jaw slack and nostrils squirming with an impending sneeze. He continued to give the inner walls of her right nostril taunting little strokes with the feather. It wasn’t until he started to ease the feather out of her nostril did she react with one heady, desperate hitch. Lor quickly released the feather, allowing it to linger in her full, damp nose. He then watched Piper shudder out a…truly unprecedented sneezing fit. 

The feather wasn’t completely expelled with her first sneeze. It was powerful, sure, and misted the front of Lor’s sweater, but the feather remained lodged in her overactive nose. In fact, the fourth sneeze of the fit was what finally expelled the feather from her nostril. It lay, damp and useless on Lor’s thigh. 

Piper let out a quivered little breath, nose scrunching with a much-needed sniffle.

“Bless you,” Lor said on a weak exhale as Piper started to clean up the underside of her nose with a group of hastily grabbed tissues. She tossed them carelessly to the floor without a second thought once her nose was somewhat tidier. 

Her nose, clearly, wasn’t quite finished with her yet. She sneezed again, disastrously, as soon as she threw the tissues aside. Piper gave one stuffy groan. She gazed at him through eyelashes heavy in maroon glitter from the day. “Hey, Sheldon,” she breathed, nostrils flaring with a lazy inhale. “You….sdf! You still wanna shower before bed?” 

Lor didn’t even question her motivation for this seemingly unrelated question. He just nodded, eyes fixated on her nostrils. 

 “Good.” Without looking away from Lor, she drew the bottom of his sweater up until it lingered just before her nose. He shivered, both at the sudden chill on his abdomen as well as the vision of Piper’s nose hovering desperately above the fabric of his turtleneck. That he was wearing. Right now. 

Again, Piper’s nostrils fluttered. Her chest rose and fell with taunting hitches. Fuck, she had to sneeze. She had to sneeze so badly, didn’t she? He wanted her more than anything.

Piper buckled into his sweater with a sneeze. Oh--and then another. She let out this lasting moan of a hitch that Lor knew was added dramatics. He didn’t mind. He liked that she was adding dramatics for him. That kinda made this even better, right? That she was so excited to tease him? Jesus, and tease she did.

She took in a slow, testing breath through her nose. When she didn’t immediately sneeze, Piper rutted her nose into his sweater, rubbing with quiet desperation. After several seconds of this, Piper groaned and dropped his sweater. Instead, she leaned forward to trail her nose along his jawline. Fuck, the tip of it was still damp.

“I still have to sneeze…” she murmured, starting to kiss at his neck. Almost instantly after, she leaned back with a gasping snag to her breath. “Hh! Hhh--!” He’d have to take this sweater off in a moment, right? 

Folding the sleeve of the oversized sweater over his hand, Lor pressed it right beneath Piper’s nose. There was no hesitation on Piper’s part as she clamped his hand firmly over his. She shuddered out a muffled sneeze. 

Yeah, he was hard. He was very, very hard. 

A moment later, Piper left out three more rapid sneezes into the fabric. They all sounded absolutely desperate, even while being quieted by his sleeve. Lor’s breath was stuck in his lungs the entire time. The warmth of those productive sneezes met his palm through his sleeve almost immediately. 

After one final sneeze that was particularly cushion-shaking--”AhHYD’SCHuhh!”--Piper exhaled through parted lips. Her knitted brows slowly began to relax, now only twitching slightly. “That’s better…” she murmured, using Lor’s covered hand to rub beneath her nose. Lor was expecting her to realize that his hand was, in fact, attached to this convenient fabric that she had turned into a tissue, but…Piper met his eyes, teary though hers were. She knew exactly how he would feel about this. 

She started to move his hand, up and down against her nose. Lor watched in absolute awe as Piper’s jaw started to slacken again. Was it possible that he could feel her nostrils flaring from beneath his sleeve?

When it seemed like Piper was just about to sneeze, she let his hand go. Lor blinked as she leaned back from him, her activated nose continuing to scrunch and twitch. She reached for the damp bottom of his sweater, beginning to pull it up. Lor could think of nothing he wanted more in that moment than to comply.  “C’mon…” Piper said with a damp sniffle. “L-Let m-hh!--me sneeze on more of you.” 

“Fuck, I love you,” Lor exhaled with adoration in every syllable as he carefully removed his sweater. He tossed it aside without fanfare. There were barely a few beats before Piper leaned forward, nestling her nose against his bare shoulder. Her nostrils were damp and squirming and right. There. 

“I love you, too,” Piper said quietly, sniffing congestedly along his collarbone. 

Lor shuddered and gulped, placing his hands on her shoulders. Despite everything in his body screaming at him to stay just like this, he gently pushed Piper back so they could meet eyes. 

“I--I want this,” he said on a shaky gasp. “I really, really want this. I just--I’d feel better if I could go, I-I dunno, shower, and get myself kinda ready for--for everything this is gonna lead to? I-I just prefer those kinds of…experiences to be, um. Clean. Me, clean. Y-You clean, too, actually. If that’s okay.” 

Piper leaned back from him at Lor’s prompting. She sniffled, knuckling one nostril as she offered him a teary smile. “Me, clean, too, don’t worry. I could use a shower, now, anyway. Helps to…unstuffify me. Add that to your horny lexicon.” 

She knew him so well!

Lor nodded. “You can go first, if you want.” 

Piper snorted, her lips pulling upward into a smirk before the expression crumpled again. She sneezed down towards Lor’s now-bare chest, making him shiver at the feeling of the uncontained sneeze making direct contact with what felt like every inch of him. 

She sniffled lazily and finally completed that smile, taking both of Lor’s hands. “I mean that I could use a shower with you.” 

Oh. “Oh!” Lor gasped, a snaggly smile immediately spreading across his face. Lor started to stand, offering his hands to help Piper up as well. “Okay! Let’s--yeah! Let’s go!” 

Piper laughed, starting to pull off her own T-shirt as she followed Lor. “Hold your horses, buckaroo. Take a breath. You’ll be able to rob me of my treasured virginity in a sec. Lemme at least blow my nose first…”

[kitthepurplepotato]

Chapter 10 (2/2) - Kirishima’s “roomies forever” party!

Summary: Is it gay to sleep in the same bed as your bro? What about getting married to him?

Warnings: Swear words, KiriBaku centered chapter (NOT platonic)

First Chapter Master List

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Did you fuck before coming here?!” Katsuki yells right as you two stumble through the door. You thought you did a good job at putting Izuku together after your shenanigans but it’s not like you can magically make his swollen lips disappear.

“Kacchan! No! Uhm… we just… kissed a little bit, that’s all.” Izuku’s face is red as the tomato in your little garden thanks to the fact that Katsuki’s yelling made every single person in the room look towards you two.

“Oh my god, is it finally official? You and Y/N?” Mina perks up right away.

“Took them fucking long enough.” Katsuki rolls his eyes and you can’t help but notice that these guys have their own version of “smart casual” because… well…

Katsuki’s dress shirt is messy and his shirt is only half buttoned. Eijirou’s shirt is literally used as a cape. Kaminari looks like a mafia boss. He even has a fancy fedora. Shinsou didn’t even bother to put a dress shirt on he’s just chilling in his hero suit, clearly still on the call. Momo went all out and she looks absolutely stunning in her black dress, Todoroki is wearing the same style as her. He looks like a prince from another era. You don’t need to ask how their first date went after the camp to know those two are a thing now. Those are just a few examples.

“Let them be, Katsuki.” Eijirou puts his hand on Katsuki’s shoulder to calm him down. “Now that everyone is here, let’s start the celebration!” Kirishima yells and the whole gang sits down on the massive sofa.

Okay, let’s stop here for a second. Let’s talk about Katsuki and Eijirou’s place a little bit.

First of all, this place looks absolutely amazing and you can certainly tell who was in charge for decorating the different rooms because the open kitchen is minimalistic and super clean while the living room is full of pictures, knick knacks and colorful little things. There are pictures about their friends, their family but it’s mostly about the two living here; there are Polaroids all over the place, probably taken by Izuku on their camping trips then there is one long strip of them, probably from a Photo Booth - Eijirou is kissing Katsuki’s cheek while the other rolls his eyes annoyedly.

Wait…

“Ahh, you haven’t been here before! Let me give you a tour.” Eijirou literally pulls you away from the picture with his cheeks tinted pink. He puts a glass of champagne in your hand and ushers you to the other end of the room. “So this this is the living room and the kitchen, obviously. The door in front of you leads to the garden and the sauna which is a separate little building on the side. Then you have the gym room here, guest room here…”

“Wait, that’s Kacchan’s bedroom.” Izuku jumps into Eijirou’s sentence, utterly confused.

“Oh, we made it into a gym a few months ago, I was out of space in my bedroom.” The redhead retorts like it’s no biggie.

“Where does Kacchan sleep then?”

“In my room or the guest room. Depends if he’s grumpy or not.”

You can barely conceal your shit eating grin as you look at your boyfriends defeated face.

“Oh, so you… redid your room with two beds and stuff? Is Kacchan okay with sharing his personal space like that?” Izuku tries to save himself but by the confused look on Eijirou’s face, he’s not gonna win.

“Uhm, no, he kinda slept in my bed all the time anyway so his room was never really used…”

“Okay, stop gossiping.” Katsuki takes over as Eijirou starts to stumble over his own words out of embarrassment. “Yes, I sleep in the same bed as Ei. Then what? That room was fucking cold.”

“Oh, that’s why you cuddle me so much?”

Izuku almost chokes on his drink. This is the best day of your life.

“Duh. You are a fucking furnace. Perfect for my needs.”

“You okay, man?” Eijirou pats Deku’s back a few times to help him with out.

“Yeah, uhm… I just didn’t realize you have such a… close relationship… uhm, do you mind if I have a moment with Sweet Pea in the garden? I think I need some fresh air.” Izuku literally runs out the door before even waiting for an answer.

~•🥦•~

“Okay, did you guys talk about this behind my back? Is this a prank? And if not, how did I miss this? Actually, why did they not tell me? Am I not Kacchan’s friend? Am I not important enough to…” Izuku starts to mutter right away.

“Izuku, calm down.” You giggle as you pull him closer. “No, I did not tell them anything and I swear I have nothing to do with this even if it is actually a prank. I’m just as surprised as you are. Not about then sleeping in the same bed but about the fact that they admit it.”

“Oh my god, I feel like my whole world just turned upside down, Sweets. They are my best friends…”

“Calm your pretty tits, maybe they just sleep in the same bed to save some space. Don’t think too much about it for now.”

It’s so hard not to yell “I WAS RIGHT”. So fucking hard.

“Did you really need to comment on my tits? I know this shirt is a little bit too tight…”

“I had to. I like it. Now let’s get back, it looks like Eijirou is about to make a speech.”

~•🥦•~

“I’m so glad so many of you managed to get the night off. I know Hitoshi, Ochako and Iida has to go soon so I’ll do this now instead of waiting until the end of the night.” Eijirou starts his speech in his now buttoned shirt. He even managed to get a tie from somewhere. He looks weirdly anxious compared to his usual, bubbly self. “Katsuki and I have been through a lot together… hell, we’ve all been. We fought a war, we got hurt, we lost people who were close to us, we cried, we smiled, we re-learned how to live a normal life together.” The whole team nods at that, their faces already teary as Eijirou goes on. “Katsuki saved me from myself. I hated who I was, I hated my quirk but Katsuki slapped me in the face and made me believe that even I can achieve big things if I try hard enough. Uhm… how was it again?” Eijirou pulls out a little paper from his pocket to take a look and the whole gang laughs. “Duh, of course I had to memorize this, I ain’t a fucking Coelho. So back to what I was about to say… yeah, so… it has been 7 years since we moved in together and I still remember the day Katsuki told me that I have no choice but to move in with him after graduation. I was terrified but also so fucking happy because while I was extremely excited to be a hero and love my own life I just couldn’t see myself without him by my side. I was afraid that I’ll loose contact with all of you. But here we are, the Bakusquad, still together. But… Kats, can you come over here?”

Katsuki looks like a deer in the headlights as Mina ushers him to stand up and go over with a knowing smile on her face. Katsuki stands right next to Eijirou who looks at him like he’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen.

“Uhm… I fucking forgot what I was about to say but you know what, fuck it.” Eijirou mutters with tears in his eyes. Izuku looks mortified. “I feel like I have everything I wanted as a teen; I have a beautiful flat I’m sharing with my best friend, I have the greatest friends and the greatest job. But there is one thing I don’t have; a partner who I know will be with me until death pulls us apart.”

The whole gang goes silent. Izuku chokes on his drink again.

“The fuck are you…” Katsuki is about to yell at him, offended, but Kirishima stops him by putting his palm on his mouth.

“Katsuki. We’ve been living together for 7 years and while I know I’m being selfish right now but…” Eijirou GOES DOWN ON ONE FUCKING KNEE. “Can you promise me you’ll be my roommate forever?”

Mina cries like a baby while the rest of the gang gawks at the two bozos, completely dumbfounded. You have no idea how to react. Izuku.exe has stopped working completely next to you.

“Eijirou, what the actual fuck are you doing right now?!” Katsuki mumbles with a red face.

“I’m asking you to be my roommate forever? Is that weird? I thought it’s really manly…”

“Eijirou, you just went down and one knee and proposed to me. Look at Iida’s confused fucking face! Deku is having a stroke!” Katsuki yells at the puppy eyed redhead who looks so gobsmacked you kinda want to hug him.

“That wasn’t my intention, but like… I do have a ring too…”

“You have a what.”

Momo gaps dramatically in the background. You try your best not to laugh.

“A ring. A roomies forever ring.” Eijirou takes out a really expensive ring box from his pocket with a sad face. Katsuki is about to explode. So is Deku.

“Well, first of all, fuck you.” Katsuki yells at the poor guy again. “Because I also have a fucking ring. So now we have two.”

Well, that’s a fucking plotwist, innit?!

“What…?!”

“… And it’s not like I’m gonna get a fucking boyfriend or a girlfriend if I sleep in your fucking bed so we might as well just get fucking married.”

“OHMYFUCKINGGODIMHYPERVENTILLATINGIFUCKINGKNEWIT”

Uhm, that was Mina. You didn’t really understand a single world but she’s clearly fucking excited.

Katsuki fucking Bakugou gets down on one knee too. He takes out an even more expensive ring and he doesn’t even wait for Eijirou to get out of his stupor before he shoves the ring on Eijirou’s finger. “You are stuck with me now. For fucking ever just how you wanted. I hate you for doing this right in front of everyone by the way, I wanted to do this after everyone leaves.”

“Kats…”

This is when Izuku absolutely loses his shit. You can see it in his eyes.

Because the next moment, Eijirou jumps into Katsuki’s arms and kisses him on the lips right in front of everyone. And the kiss doesn’t look like it’s the first one they’ve ever shared.

You don’t have the heart to be giddy about being right because Izuku looks absolutely heartbroken by the sight.

“Let’s go home.” Izuku stands up abruptly. You try to pull him back on the sofa but he’s relentless.

“Don’t make a scene. I know you are mad, but don’t ruin this for them.”

Katsuki, being the perceptive guy he is, looks up at you two right away. He doesn’t need to say anything to Eijirou because just as he takes a look at you two he lets Katsuki go, probably knowing this conversation is a must.

“Izuku, come with me. You too.” Katsuki sighs while the others make their ways to congratulate Eijirou for staying alive after all the shit he just pulled.

You really want to congratulate the two and tell them you shipped them before they went official but seeing Izuku’s face right now, half a second from crying, you decide to just go after Katsuki, pulling the frozen greenhead after you. You two end up in the garden and Katsuki sits down on the bench with a frown on his face; he’s clearly trying his best to choose his words properly and not make the situation worse.

“Look, I’m sorry.” Katsuki murmurs with his hands deep in his hair, clearly just as frustrated as Izuku himself. “You know I’m not into the whole… love thing and this… this is new. Well, almost… ah fuck, this is so awkward.” He sighs. “5 years ago… We… did some stuff. I was telling Eijirou about me not understanding what’s the big deal about kissing. I was twenty and still a virgin and I was just… fed up. And it escalated. Then we never talked about it ever again… until you called us, crying about how you don’t want to loose your Sweet Pea and then Eijirou told you the whole story and said he… he loves me and honestly, I was feeling the same or whatever so we… decided to… just be together and stop pretending that we are not… attracted to each other. Honestly, not a lot of things has changed since then, I used to sleep in his bed for years anyway. We were… a couple without even realizing it.”

“I didn’t even know you are gay, Katsuki.” Izuku mutters with tears in his eyes. You really want to hug him.

“Don’t fucking call me Katsuki! And it’s no one’s business! I haven’t told the hag either. I didn’t think I’ll ever be in a situation when it matters. Also, I don’t think I’m gay. I’ve never cared about anyone this way except for him. Never. I already said sorry so stop looking at me like I pulled Auntie Inko’s hair and be my best fucking man when this shit escalates.”

“Oh my god.” You mumble in a high pitched voice. Oh my god, this is happening. Oh my…

“Me?” Izuku freezes, for the third time today.

“What the fuck? Who the fuck else? You are my fucking nerdy, annoying brother from another mother, of course it needs to be you.”

Izuku cries a river. Literally. You decide to leave these two alone after seeing Deku moving into Katsuki’s personal space and hugging him, because even though you know the two don’t mind your presence when it comes to emotional stuff, hell, Katsuki literally opened up to you on the first day, but somehow, this felt so intimate you started to feel like an intruder.

You make your way back inside and Eijirou clocks you right away; he smiles from the other side of the room, his face so happy it makes your heart melt just from looking at him.

“Talk about surprises, right?” He scratches the back of his head self-deprecatingly.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I knew this the first moment I’ve met you two. I’ve been teasing Izu with it for ages.” You give him a cheeky grin back.

“Will he be okay?” The conversation is suddenly turning serious; Kirishima’s smile disappears for a second, worry etched all over his face as he waits for your answer. Katsuki not telling Izuku is one thing but Eijirou? You have no idea how the guy managed to keep this a secret for so long. It must have been terrible, Eijirou is all about gossip on a usual day and he wears his heart on his sleeves every single second.

“I’m not going to lie, he was really upset, but Katsuki just asked him to be his best man, and now he’s crying like a baby in his arms, so…”

For your surprise, Eijirou starts ugly crying just as you finish your sentence.

“That’s so manly, goddamnit!” It only takes him half a second to crush into you, suffocating you with his massive body, absolutely not bothered by your terrified yelp as you try to breathe and fail.

Well… today was full of surprises, that’s for sure, but you are so happy to be able to live such a wonderful and exciting life, a life full of surprises and love and oh fuck, how did you get so lucky?

It’s really hard not to start stressing about what comes next; life has been way too kind to you and everything is so perfect but… life can’t be this is easy, can it? Something must be on the way, something bad, something dark and menacing but you decide to hide this terrible thought under the hypothetical rug in your mind palace for now, knowing that whatever comes your way, if these people are still by your side, it can’t be that bad.

… this is what you thought back then. That it can’t be that bad… but life had other plans for you two.

The pink clouds shattered with the static of the TV, with the constant buzz of your phone. With Eijirou’s trembling voice, trying to stay strong for you.

You didn’t know there is a New Era coming your way, one that will probably be called a horrific name in the history books, something dramatic, something easy to remember, but terrible nonetheless.

Something like… the falling of the Number One.

… Next Chapter!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato ramble:

- Mina was wearing an extremely short skirt and a tank top that barely hid anything. In case you wondered. She’s cool like that.

- Why did they remake Katsuki’s room into the gym and not the guest room? Because they literally came up with that idea after they officially got together so they knew that room won’t be used anymore. There is an extra I have half-written if you guys want to know the full story behind those two so please leave a comment if you want me to post it in the future!

- In the original script they didn’t actually engage in this chapter, or at least not in front of everyone. Katsuki was supposed to pull Eijirou into his room and yell at him about his “easy to misinterpret” actions but he would’ve said yes to the proposal anyway but play dumb through the whole night and deny it, making the whole gang confused about what the fuck is going on but then as you know, my characters have a mind of their own and this happened. I remember making a dramatic gasp when Katsuki pulled out another ring because I genuinely didn’t know that’s gonna happen lol should I see a doctor? I probably should. 😂

- While I have the next chapter written already it might be a bit late and the reason is that I want to have the next one ready so you guys don’t need to wait for longer than a week for it because uhm… it ends with a massive cliffhanger. So get tissues and book an appointment with your therapist if you have one. If not, find one. Or don’t read it until the next one is out. That’s probably cheaper. I’m sorry in advance. My bestie @porusuniverse already read the chapter and I’m quite sure she almost had a meltdown by the end of it. 😂😇

If you like this story, please leave a comment! Likes and reblogs are also appreciated! 🥦

TL: @garfieldthomas @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer @sixxze @mily-moo @aei-sedai-moiraine @aymasakusa @katsuari @kenzie-deadly @shiviwrites07 @lukerycyja-reblogs @cloroxisadelectabletreat @coffeent @kisskissshutmydoor @bobcar1 @yazminetrahan @cringefan @ronimacaroni77 @thekookiecorner @dangerousluv1 @emperatris-rinaka @shotos-angelic-whore @angelsdemonsmonsters @norvacaine @rei165 @unofficialmuilover @yao-ai @happydragonfrog @eeerreehhh @vinivave

[seat-safety-switch]

I’m Detective Archibald Shitpope. There’s only one thing I care about more than solving crimes: inexpensive Toyota hatchbacks.

The big boss upstairs has been tired of my incessant browsing of Craigslist at work for a long time. I get results, though, and no one else in the precinct comes close.

So when a murder case came across my desk, I did what I always do. Press F5 and see if anything under $2500 has been posted.

It took a long time to load. The precinct has shitty copper T3 back haul, and it’s always being wasted on stuff like crime scene streaming and live tracking of serial killers. That’s when I took a look at the case. And it shocked me. The murder occurred at the docks. The docks? That’s where JDM cars come from.

In dick school, they tell you that every murder has means, motive, and opportunity. There’s something else, at least for me. Toyotas. I carry a vintage トヨタ shift knob in my pocket, a sort of good luck charm. And, in contravention of department policy, my investigating car is a hammered-to-shit 2002 Celica GT (non-S) with bad ball joints, enough mileage that the digital odometer flickers in disbelief when I turn it on, and a case of sassy diff syndrome.

When I got to the scene, it was what I’d been dealing with for most of my career. A murder. I didn’t need the uniformed dipshits with their unreliable, smoggy domestic V8 squad cars to tell me that.

“It’s a classic locked room murder, boss,” said my assistant Soichiro when I finally arrived. He was born in Yonkers and legally changed his name after his hero, Soichiro Yamada, the guy who invented the cooled EGR system. “The keys are still in the vic’s pockets, so it's a mystery how someone got in there and killed him.” He walked me to a Toyota Corolla II “Windy.”

At once I knew the secret. “Soichiro, you fucked up again,” I spat with some measure of fatherly disappointment. This turbocharged, nearly-top-trim 1987 Corolla II sported the rare and desirable Panasonic parcel shelf speakers. That meant it also held the remote unlock feature, hugely uncommon for the Showa era, so much so that it would never be documented outside of the sales brochure, and certainly not in the inefficient and barbaric English literature for same.

“Turn ‘em out, Soichiro,” I ordered, pointing at his pockets, and he knew he had no choice but to comply. On the table before us lay the evidence of his treachery. One Carrozzeria branded remote lock/unlock remote, and - worse - the keys to a 1988 CR-X. He’d been on the take this whole time.

Later, the aforementioned uniformed dipshits would find something even worse on a search of a storage unit registered to my "partner," Soichiro. Four single-slammer D16 ZC engines, all matching serial numbers to the cars that went missing after the big tea house shootout in Chinatown. I’d been off that week, trying to find a replacement lift actuator, and Soichiro had filled in.

I don’t carry a sidearm. I don’t need to. I simply waited until Soichiro took flight, fleeing across the parking lot of the warehouse, and hit him with my car. Bent the upper radiator support, which the department bodyshop took care of since it was "in the line of duty." Fixed the headlight tabs, too. That probably cost Uncle Taxpayer a few cents.

I got a lot of heat for it later, from the chief, but the mayor overruled him, gave me a medal for valour. She was alright. Had a late model Tercel back home, I knew. Coupe, though, had a trunk. Politics is about compromise.

[stromuprisahat]

I love your takes on the grishaverse so I was wondering what you thoughts was on the theory/headcanon that Alina didn’t really lose her powers but unknowingly locked them as she did before the books’ beginning? Maybe there was a period where she couldn’t summon light bcs she was too exhausted and stressed out by the whole ‘final battle’ thing – banishing thee Fold, Mal’s ‘death’, Darkling’s death – so she assumed she had lost it. And then it was easier to unknowingly continue like that bcs it allowed her to remove herself from ruling and making any decisions and just have her simple co-depended life with Mal as she always wanted.

Personally, I don’t think that’s what happened in canon (certainly not what Bardugo meant) but I find it feasible as fanon interpretation, considering how depressed and deluded Alina appears post-RAR.

I'm more leaning into the explanation, that she intentionally, yet subconsciously rid herself of them (and maybe revived Malyen, when we're at it, since the second life bullshit is just that- bullshit that doesn't make sense, since no other amplifier's running around the same way. But then again- I'm very skeptical, when it comes to Malyen actually being one- he has no properties others do.).

Alina recognizes that as long as she's Grisha, she won't be able to be only with Malyen, and she already admitted she's trying to mould herself into whatever he seems to want from her.

Merzost doesn't seem to be random- it's driven by intention. Ilya "upgraded" mythical animals to have certain properties, Aleksander fucked up first, but then managed to find a way to actively protect his people, when in situation his powers weren't enough. Alina lost what made her special, but since her goal wasn't finished yet, other Sun Summoners sprang into existence and fucked up destruction of the Fold, because it's merzost-made, therefore logic tells us ordinary Small Science shouldn't be enough to vanquish it.

It's true the previous time Alina worked with merzost, her powers "disappeared" for a while, but the "magic" also isn't working from nothing. No matter what we're told, there is a cost, some input. It's not "pure creation". We can see it, when Sasha makes nichevo'ya- he's using his own essence, his life force or whatever want you to call it, to draw them into existence, so Alina would need ~something~ to distribute her powers among others, and the amplifiers are just that- they amplify, wider one's range, not give a new ability.

Besides- there's the question of what grandpa Ilya wanted. If he aimed at Grisha being accepted, instead of othered, why would he take away from one the give to more. It might look pragmatic, but the range is too limited and even if he created such "tools" over and over- he'd only make a new caste of "once-Grisha", instead of levelling the playing field.

One of my fellow fans also pointed out that if merzost is magic, perhaps Alina used it to become an ordinary otkazat'sya. I don't believe so. She might've made herself to appear as one, but after all those books spent reading how is being Grisha integral part of their being, something that makes them themselves... looking at post R&R Chapter 17 Alina isn't looking at slightly more traumatized Alina that can't summon the Light because it's not a part of her. It's looking at a husk of the girl, just like the ends of previous books, when she was suffering due to missing her powers on physical level.

And her lack of skill, when using merzost previous time would support it. She locked away her powers and her hair went white the first time. She got rid of her Light, but her body "remembers" it's missing something.

edit: Also- thank you for (positive) feedback, I'm not being rude, I'm just an social idiot with totally not ADHD, so I get focused on "the point", and forget the social stuff like greeting and replying to nice words, which ARE very motivating for me, but HERE'S THE STUFF I'm thinking about and my brain's coming up with coherent answers- LOOK!

[dreadsuitsamus]

Green With Envy | Renji Abarai x Reader |

author's note: more mechanic!au stuff! i love this au with renji sooooooo much. it's so damn fun

pairing: renji abarai x reader

warnings: au, jealousy, some background renji x rukia

The tick of the clock on the wall only serves to irritate you further, the tickle of what's soon going to turn into anger settling tightly at the back of your skull. Renji's late. It's a Monday morning at the shop and he's uncharacteristically not here. He's usually here before you or right on time with you, and while it's technically his shop, it's still rude to not even send you a courtesy text.

You can't help the bounce of your leg and tightness in your jaw. Rukia is in town, and surely it's because of her that he's not here. She already had the entire weekend with him, and God only knows what the hell they were up to. You didn't hear from your friend not once, and in fairness, you didn't reach out yourself. Working together for sometimes more than forty hours a week is already a lot of time together, not to mention Renji often treats you to dinner after work or you'll invite him over and have a drink together to de-stress from the day.

To put it simply, you monopolize quite a bit of his time, and as nothing more than a friend and coworker, you have no right to feel so strung out about him being with another woman.

Another woman he was certainly fucking the entire weekend.

The bell above the door dings and the way you cut your eyes at him must be pure evil, because Renji reels back as if struck. He's got a frappuccino in hand and his usual black coffee in the other— he certainly knows the best way to extend an olive branch to you. He takes his usual seat before your desk and holds your drink away from your reaching grabby hand.

"Before I give you this and you start tuning me out," He starts, and damn him for knowing you so well. "I just wanna say I'm sorry I'm late, and that I missed you over the weekend."

And ohhhh how your heart warms at his sincerely spoken words. Combined with his dumb-looking, apologetic face, you can't really stay mad at him. "You're forgiven. Did you have fun with Rukia?"

Renji sets your drink down and has a quick pull from his own. "Yeah, always. We went and watched the new Fast and the Furious movie."

You snort and take a sip of your vanilla bean frappe. "And was it as ridiculous as you hoped?"

"Dumbest one yet." He flashes you a bright, dumb grin and sets his cup down to pull a pen and piece of paper from your desk and begin writing out his day's plans. "How was your weekend though? Any hot dates?"

"No." You mutter bitterly. "Seems you're the only one that has any fun like that."

"I dunno why." Renji murmurs, his eyes flitting to you for a moment. "You're extremely hot. Men should be falling to their knees left and right for you."

"Now you're just kissing my ass."

"Who, me?" Renji's smile is blinding, and the telltale twinkle of playful mischief is in his eyes. "Only if you asked."

"Take me to dinner first."

"Busy tonight, but lunch is all yours, babe." Renji scribbles out a schedule for you to keep him on, like always, and grabs a set of keys for his first few jobs— they're theoretically just simple oil changes.

"When does Rukia return home?" You hum, and frankly you're not doing a good job of hiding just how badly you dislike her existence. She's never done anything to you personally, no.

You just want what she has with Renji and the jealousy burns you.

"Tomorrow morning. I shouldn't be late again though."

"I don't care if you're late. I just would appreciate a heads up."

"I care if I'm late. I could lose my job, y'know. My boss is a bit of a hard ass like that, even though I'm the best worker she's got." Renji winks at you and rushes into the shop before you can chide him any, and the sound of his cackling laugh echoing from the garage is enough to ease the tension in your body and let you have a laugh too.

"Idiot." You mutter fondly before answering the incoming phone call.

A few hours pass by before you see Renji again, and he hooks the keys back up to the key wall. "I am not doing even one more goddamn oil change today."

"Hit your head a few times?" You hum as you browse your computer for lunch ideas, and snort as you feel his eyes shooting daggers your way.

"I don't wanna talk about it." He snarks and goes to his small selection of nice shirts, picking up two for you to choose between. And he nods, expecting your choice of the teal Henley shirt and pulls it over his white tank top. "Lemme go wash up and we'll go get a bite."

"Yes sir."

Renji heads down the short hallway to the bathroom and you tidy up your desk as you wait, and your heart sinks as you see a very familiar pain in your ass walking up to the door. Plastering a small yet still fake smile on, you wave a hand to Rukia. "Hey, Rukia."

"Hello!" She's always been so damn kind to you, it's ridiculous for you to have so much disdain for her. "Where's Renji?"

"Restroom." You murmur, eyeing her carefully. She's wearing a cute little sundress, emphasis on little, and no wonder you didn't hear from Renji during their weekend. And thank the fucking lord they're just friends with benefits and that she lives so damn far away, because you're not sure you'd still be in this business with Renji if you had to see Rukia more often.

It's petty, but your heart doesn't like to share, one-sided or otherwise.

Thankfully Renji's out of the bathroom before the awkward silence can linger, and he greets Rukia with a hug. "Hey, you! What're you doing here?"

"Wanted to get some lunch with you." She smiles brightly and good lord she's a teeny thing compared to him.

"Oh!" Renji rubs the back of his head. "Not that I don't want to, but I already promised to take-"

Rukia pouts, and you sigh to yourself. "Just go, Ren."

Renji frowns. "No, I told you that I would treat you to lunch and I meant that."

"Just go. Make it up to me tomorrow." She'll be gone then, is unspoken, and you're sure hoping he's picked up what you've put down. Much as you dislike her for stupidly selfish reasons, being rude to Rukia isn't an option.

His brow furrows together as you set your purse back into its normal spot and you toss his car keys to him without so much as another glance his way, and he only barely catches them in the midst of his frustration. You're upset, that much is obvious, and he doesn't want to leave you behind like this. "I really don't feel right about this. Let's just all go out together, okay?"

"We shouldn't really leave the shop unattended." Your voice is damn near robotic, and the frustration in Renji's chest digs a little bit deeper. You won't even look at him. "Since Mondays are my busiest days. I'll be fine; I brought my lunch anyway."

And before Renji can argue further, a repeat customer steps through the door and they shake hands for a quick greeting before the man steps to your desk to schedule service. You smile at the customer, grateful he's earlier than he said he'd be— Rukia pulls Renji out of the building and they're off to their lunch, and you get an hour to yourself before your dear friend returns.

"He wants a state inspection, oil change, and he'd like you to do an alignment as well." You mutter when Renji steps back inside, setting the customer's keys at the edge of your desk for your mechanic to move the man's truck out back. Your packed lunch, a simple Caesar salad, sits in front of you almost completely untouched as your fingers tap against the keyboard for yet another email response.

"Alright." Renji eyes you carefully, tugging the keys into his palm and removing his Henley. He hardly ate a thing at lunch, much to Rukia's annoyance. But his happiness is very much dependent on your own, and knowing you're upset because of his inability to keep his word sends a feeling of pure sickness to his stomach. He let you down, despite his best efforts.

You pointedly avoid his gaze, and he sighs gently before he sulks out to get back to work. You end up tossing what's left of your salad, your tummy too full of feelings to want to eat. Renji stays in the shop for the rest of the day, not even emerging for a snack or a set of keys before lockup. The air around you is tense, and you curse yourself for being the very source of it.

But damn this jealousy will not let you go.

You're already shutting down your computer and organizing your desk for tomorrow when the door to the garage opens up, Renji's work boots scuffing against the floor as he comes back for the first time in several hours. He sets all the keys on the desk instead of the wall, indicating he's gotten all the work done.

"Nice job." You murmur, pulling them into one of your desk drawers. "I'll send the invoices tomorrow and depending on when they pay up, we can send out the rent—"

Your chair swivels around, causing your heart to skip a beat as you come face to face with your mechanic, his hands settled on either armrest with you subsequently caged into the chair by his body. When the hell did he even cross over to this side of the desk?? "Renji, what the hell—?"

"I can't stand you being mad at me." He admits honestly, and you can see just how pained he is with his gaze alone. "I'm sorry about lunch, okay? I really, really am."

"Renji." You sigh softly, and it takes everything in you to hold your hands back, keeping them in your lap and not cupping his face and kissing him like you so desperately crave. "It's not a big deal."

"You're mad at me and you're hungry. I got a double whammy on my hands." He moves just a tad closer to you as he shifts his weight, the scent of his savory, expensive cologne still there even after a day spent working hard. "And they're both my fault. You didn't eat your stupid little salad because what you wanted was a grilled cheese with all your little fixins from that place down the road, and also because you're upset and you don't eat when you're upset."

"How do you have me so figured out?" You ask softly, eyes so stuck on his handsome face. The shape of his nose, the way his lips curve, the sharpness of his eyes… The tiny little freckles you've never even noticed dusting over his cheekbones… Being in this close proximity only makes you realize and memorize the finer details of what you thought you already had discovered entirely. But it isn't often you're this close for this long, and hopefully he can't hear the way your heart beats in your throat.

"We have been together for almost six years now." He murmurs gently. "We know almost everything about each other at this point. You're my best friend and my business partner— I'd have to be the dumbest guy in town not to know you better than the back of my hand."

"Best friend?" You whisper in fear of your voice cracking if you talk any louder. Your chest is tight with want and the corners of your eyes begin prickling with tears; this is all too oddly intimate to take place at work, of all places, closed or not. Though it was this place that brought you together to begin with— "We have been together almost six years now." is how he phrased it, as if you were a couple.

"The very best." He whispers back. "Rukia is my childhood friend, but she doesn't know me better than you do. And I definitely don't know her half as well as I know you now. I could talk all day long about things she liked before she turned fifteen and moved away, but I don't even know what her favorite restaurant is now. That's the thing with time. It changes people, y'know? So if you don't keep up with them, you drift. Seeing her once or twice a year isn't enough to beat out my bond with you, no way in hell. I see you every day, all day, and I enjoy every second and always look forward to more time with you."

"You promise?" Your eyes are filled to the brim with tears now, and Renji smiles ever so gently as the pad of his thumb wipes away a renegade drop.

"I do." He presses his lips to your forehead in a sweet kiss, and your arms loop around his neck— and in turn you're pulled into a crushing hug and receive a longer kiss to your temple before his lips graze down your skin to speak softly into your ear. "Let's go get you that grilled cheese now, okay? My treat, and after that we'll go get some ice cream from that other place you like."

"What about Rukia? It's her last night in town, and you said you were busy tonight."

"She's probably packing anyway, and her flight is so early that she'll be in bed within a couple hours. It's fine. I meant it when I said I missed you, and I wanna take you to dinner. It'll be okay." His voice buzzes against your ear, and he gives you another squeeze when you relent and nod along to his idea.

Grinning widely, he lets go of you to pull on that same Henley from earlier. "C'mon, before you start acting hangry and yell at me."

"Hey! I do not yell at you!"

Renji snaps his fingers and points. "There it is, right there! Hangry!!"

You laugh and bat your purse at him, and he screeches playfully and runs out of the building. "You'll never take me alive!"

"Only because you left me to lock up!" You call back, laughing giddily as you ensure the building is secure and follow him to his car.

"Hey, you know the rules. Last one out is a rotten egg." Renji explains as he opens the passenger side door for you

You just laugh at him, chest warm and fuzzy at the day's turnaround. And the little green monster at the back of your brain, the toxic little thing, is sated as your mechanic slips into the car for an evening with you.

[shaunashipman]

I mean all Eddie did was hug somebody who looks like Shannon it’s really not THAT unforgivable and certainly not even close to the worst thing he’s ever done

didn't say it was unforgivable, and didn't say it was the worst thing thing he's ever done (curious what you think IS the worst thing he's ever done, cause I do think this is up there)

what I said was it was fucked up. and it was. he met a woman who looked identical to his dead wife. okay, weird but not on him he was just living. he went and talked to her, weird but understandable.

then he asked her out to dinner, and went on enough "dates" for her to be under the impression that they were not only dating, but seriously enough that it was fine for her to show up at the fire station uninvited. that has to be quite a few dates, even for someone clearly as freaky-freak as kim.

and all the while he is not telling her that she looks like his dead wife, that he only asked her out because she looks like his dead wife, that he tried to recreate his first date with his dead wife with her, and that he has a girlfriend.

all this before we even get to her coming back with shannon's haircut and the "therapy" that chris witnessed.

that is extremely fucked up. I know we're used to tv land where ppl do crazy stuff all the time and it's treated as normal, but that is soooo fucked up. and I want the show to let it be fucked up, to lean into, to really go deep

[lemon-natalia]

Nona the Ninth Reaction - John 1:20

i honestly hadn’t considered that John would have access to a bunch of other info, like the FTL planning to leave everyone behind, via the politician he’s puppeting around. he’s practically running the government of this unspecified country at this point. i mean i guess it was good practice for everything he’d later end up doing as Emperor 

‘I’ve got plans for that arm’ um. what. y'know what i really really don’t want to even know

for a guy who keeps saying he didn’t want to nuke anything he’s reallyyy leaning into the nukes every chance he gets

something i find very interesting is that John possibly also has powers besides necromancy that he’s seemingly glossed over a lot? even though they’re very toothy, he can apparently grow roses, and earlier C— talks about him potentially stabilising the North Glacier like that’s something he could definitely do. i wonder if it is actually possible to use thalergy, the life energy stuff, which really never gets mentioned that much tbh, in a similar way to thanergy?

ok how on earth is ‘Cows exhibit mourning behaviour for other cows’ such a goddamn impactful line. like its a really chilling moment of John confirming that he’s willing to start a nuclear war rather than let the ships leave. and it’s also objectively fucking ridiculous

John’s reflection here on his friends doubting him, and how ‘People don’t forgive, not really’ is very interesting considering his actions at the end of HtN, where he asks Augustine if they can have a ‘fresh slate’ in the wake of him killing Mercy. idk really what i’m trying to say here, but i do wonder how much John really meant what he was offering there 

well what with Ianthe, Harrow, and Kiriona, John certainly took M—’s remark about recruiting teenage girls in the next cult to heart

what i’m personally choosing to take away from this chapter is that multitasking is the true villain of the Locked Tomb universe. get some sleep and stop trying to do six things at once kids, or you might just end up nuking the entire earth

‘I can’t Sister. It’s too big’ i’m quite frankly a little disappointed that John didn’t take the opportunity to make a ‘that’s what she said’ joke here

holy crap, the nun shooting herself is certainly a moment. this is really leaning into the eldritch horror of what it would be like to be a human and aware of the Earth literally screaming at you

there’s such a tragic contrast between M— literally begging in her last moments for them not to shoot John vs Mercy being the one to kill him & John killing her so horrifically in return

John’s been essentially levelling up in necromancy as all of these chapters have progressed, but it’s a truly horrifying level of power he displays here. it’s not even the nukes that end up killing a lot of people, because John points out that he was able to just straight up snap the necks of about half of the entire world population

so much about this chapter is just walking the line between absurdist comedy and abject horror, but there is something just so … viscerally disturbing about the mental image of John literally just eating dirt as he consumes the soul of the Earth 

THIS is where the Barbie comparison comes in??? this?! John modelled a body for the remains of the soul of the partially-absorbed soul of the earth after BARBIE?!! talk about taking Barbieheimer to a whole new level

‘I drank them in, and it wasn’t enough’ someone better at comedy than me has probably made a very Hungry Caterpillar joke about this chapter 

‘You and I went full fucking Hungry Caterpillar’ DUDE. ok i stg i made the Hungry Caterpillar annotation immediately before i read like the next page and saw this 

‘I picked you to change [...] I still love you’ well, there’s some form of answer about how John actually got his necromancy in the first place. there’s something so awful about being a human being given powers you just straight up can’t really comprehend by a being so much bigger than you out of love 

the message reads ‘THE/TOWER/HAS/REACTIVAT’. at this point i can’t really think of anything else it could say other than ‘reactivated’. and given this is the chapter where John describes himself as becoming God, there’s something very poetic about the chapter heading being John 1:20, in which John the Baptist confesses that he isn’t the Messiah

[latimeria-fell-from-heaven]

#𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐃𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓.

𓆩♡𓆪 being a workaholic is going to kill you one of these days. thankfully, lee comes in with quite a helpful solution. or so it seems. MINORS DNI!!

cw. afab!reader, reader is the doctor, double dragon dicks, slight dub-con, hypnosis (reader is into it but makes fun of lee lmao), dilf, age difference, scent kink, deepthroating, cumming untouched, sensory overload & genital slit/retractable dicks.

lati. thank you so much to the very lovely person who commissioned me for this!! they wished to remain anonymous but i hope you read this and are satisfied with this yummy fic bc i had a helluva time writing it :D

wc. 5325

Your head is going to explode—you're so god-awfully exhausted and stressed that death might as well be imminent. You're going to die from overworking and the endless stacks of papers would be your tomb. Oh god, you're too young to die from work; you haven't even really done all the stuff you've always wanted to do—actually, wait, how old are you again? You don't know.

Kal'tsit and Amiya never really went into any specific details about the kind of person you were before you awoke in Chernobog (well, you think you have a good enough idea of who you once were, but thinking about it makes your head hurt), and they most certainly did not inform you of your age. Well, Amiya did bake you a cake for your birthday and sang happy birthday, but had placed a small handful of colorful candles across the cake that did not indicate your age. And if Kal'tsit knew, then she certainly was in no rush to tell you just how long you'd been around.

But anyway, that's not the point. The point is that you're gonna die. And if you don't die from work, then Kal'tsit would most certainly hang you from the rafters if you didn't finish your work.

It feels like no matter how many recruitment permits you sent off or battle records you reviewed, the pile of documents on your desk was never-ending. It was already so late into the night, and judging by a glance at the clock, most of Rhodes Island should be asleep in their dorms, in the comfort of their beds. Fuck, just thinking about a bed is making you sleepy.

You leaned back in your chair, for a quick breather, and totally not because you're trying to keep yourself from passing out on the spot. Wincing at the sound your back makes in the process—a consequence of having been hunched over for so long. 

Man...looks like an all-nighter at this rate. You can feel your sanity shrivel up at that realization. If you could have a stress cry session, then you absolutely would, but even you know that crying won't get you anywhere.

Your oh woe is me! thoughts are interrupted by the sound of your office door opening. Huh? Who else would be awake at this god-forsaken hour other than yourself—?

"Why are the lights all on at this hour... oh?" There stood at your doorway, was no other than Lee. Wait, why was he awake at this time? Was he unable to sleep and decided to go for a stroll around the landship?

He looks a little surprised to see you still perched behind your desk, but his expression quickly shifts to his usual playful and lax demeanor. "Ah, (name). Are you still processing battle records? Well, I never thought you were such a workaholic. I'm impressed," he whistles, sauntering towards your desk and leaning over to peek at what you'd been working on.

After his quick inspection, he exclaims, "But! You'd better turn in sooner. It's not worth it to break your body doing it."

"While the concern is greatly appreciated Lee, I still need to get this all done or Kal'tsit will have my head," you huff out a tired laugh in response. "Cause... she said she could do that and I believe her."

"Why not ask your assistants for help? I'm sure they'd be glad to be of aid to the esteemed Doctor. I could even be of assistance to you (name), I'm rather good with paperwork." At that last remark, you visibly deadpanned—Lee was the last guy you'd ever ask for help on paperwork. You were all too familiar with his many attempts to avoid doing too much work.

"The last time I tried to ask you for help, you coincidentally got a headache and told me I could handle it by myself."

"But I still help around the office, don't I? I'm quite handy during missions even if I'm no good in a fight." Lee seems quite proud to prattle on about how he's such an excellent little helper at your side, but you're not buying any of it. He may be a smooth talker and, you're not ashamed to admit, have quite the attractive face and demeanor, but you're not exactly keen on letting him boost up his ego.

"Lee, in the last mission I didn't see you anywhere in the fight and when I asked, you said you were the moral support," you groan, lips turned downward in feigned annoyance.

"I sense some hostility towards me, (name)," his tail swishes behind his tall frame vigorously as he pouts almost childishly, but you can tell that he's anything but offended. Knowing the old fish, he was amused by your little jabs and didn't mind entertaining you to alleviate your stress levels.

"Good, feel the hostility you old carp," you were trying to appear annoyed, but the second you made eye contact with the titular old carp, you started snickering and even let out a few laughs, with Lee joining in with chuckles of his own. God, it feels good to throw harmless jabs and just laugh without a care in the world. "Sorry Lee, but even if you lend me a hand, we'd have to be multitasking like nobody's business."

"At least take a break if that is the case, (name). It's no good to keep an engine running on fumes," Lee hums, circling behind your chair to place his hands on your shoulders, applying the most welcomed pressure on your sore muscles. "Why not take a step away from this battlefield of a desk, and relax a little on the couch while I go and make us some tea."

"After all, it would be a shame to let those good tea leaves you keep go to waste."

"Ugh, fine," you whine, making a point of dramatically dragging yourself off of your chair before dragging your feet as slowly as you can. Lee places a hand on your lower back and hurries you along to the couch, to which he takes it upon himself to sit you down with hands that weigh down on your shoulders. You're almost a bit embarrassed to feel how swiftly and easily you sink into the sleek leather, sighing in relief as your tense muscles ease up.

"See, not that hard to relax, now is it? Now sit tight while I go make us some tea." He makes a point of patting your head, and you whine in defeat, unable to bring yourself to swat away his hand.

"Mmm."

Satisfied, he saunters off to the mini-kitchen, humming a song that you find somewhat familiar. You don't remember the words, but you certainly find the melody to be familiar. Maybe it was playing on the radio when you'd paid a visit to Aak in his little lab, and Lee might've just heard it playing on a loop everywhere.

Even though you're supposed to be relaxing and thinking about anything that isn't work-related, the workaholic in you is screaming and wailing like a banshee. You're practically having an internal war, and the workaholic is currently winning the bloody conquest. Figures, you could never put away your duties until you were freed by your own passing out from exhaustion or an operator forcing you to take a step back.

The internal struggle is just too much for you to bear any longer. Just...one little signature wouldn't hurt, right? It wouldn't kill you just to sign one measly little signature. Besides, Lee isn't paying any attention right now and if you were quick enough, then he wouldn't know. That's how that old saying goes right? What you don't know can't hurt you. It totally applies to this situation right now!

Having made up your mind, and taking a quick glance at Lee to make sure he wasn't looking, you scurry to your desk like a subway rat. As quietly and quickly as you can, you snatch the pen you'd left on a small stack of papers, and with a sharp click that makes you wince at how much more resounding it is, you scribble your name onto the blank space. It's a sloppy signature, but it looks decent enough to pass by without raising any eyebrows. Yeah, that's—

"Doctor."

Shit.

When you nervously lift your head, there stands Lee. Except he's no longer smirking. He looks almost, impatient. No, he looks pretty mad. Or is it disappointment? You seriously can't tell, but whatever he's feeling, it's clear that he's not happy.

"Heeyy Lee. What a nice night it is, am I right? Say, why don't we drink the tea now, yeah? Haha..." Crap, he's not answering. Trying to bullshit your way out of this one wasn't going to work, but it was worth a shot, right? "Y, you're not mad are you?"

"No." Yep, he's mad. Ugh, if someone says that they're not mad in that tone, then they're seriously mad! And it's even scarier because you've never seen Lee mad before! "Why would I be mad?"

"That's exactly what a person who's mad would say," you nervously quip, fiddling with your fingers and scratching at your skin. You always do that whenever you get anxious, it’s a really bad nervous habit of yours, even if you always end up peeling back skin right from the corners of your nails and have to snip the small peel of flesh off with your nail clippers.

"I worry that you don't take things to heart, (name). It's like you don't consider others' opinions.." he sighs, sounding more like a parent scolding their boisterous teen for the nth time. Fuck, you're seriously feeling super guilty right now; guess Lee had a bit of practice with three certain operators on the wonders of parental guilt-tripping. "And for that, I fear that you'll need more than just a stern talking to."

"Wait wha--"

Ignoring your confusion, Lee fumbles around the hidden pockets of his coat as he searches for... something? You're tempted to just sidestep him and just lie down on the couch and feign exhaustion. Yet something inside of you wanted to see where this would go, keeping you rooted to the ground. And because Lee would see through your bullshit immediately (curse his keen detective skills).

He mutters an 'ah, there it is,' before quickly yanking his hand out and holding some circular object by a mere thread that you suspect may give out at any moment. You may have only seen the device for a few seconds, but you'd recognize that black-and-white spiral pattern anywhere. Anyone would, given that it was always on those weird hypnosis videos you'd come across on the Internet.

"..Hypnosis? Seriously? What kinda scams are you getting into, my dude..?" While hypnosis and mind control weren't exactly sensational news for you, given what Amiya had experienced with Mephisto and his undead herd, it feels rather silly for it to be used in a situation like this. But seeing Lee's impatient posture and the way his tail restlessly swishes behind, you figure that you might as well humor him.

As Lee raises the circular device to your eye level, you can't resist the urge for an eye roll at the absurdity of this situation. He doesn't need to really tell you what to do, you know that you're supposed to look in the center and let the spiral do its magic or whatever. Like, make your head empty and have no thoughts, right?

"Lee, if this doesn't work and I'm not some bread-dead zombie or whatever, I'll--"

Lee snaps his fingers.

Your body relaxes.

All the racing thoughts in your mind cease.

—Ah..?

"There we go. Just focus on my voice, (name). Don't think about anything or anyone else, alright?" His crooning voice echoes in your head, and it suddenly feels like your brain is being physically rearranged. At the same time, it was as if your brain was melting, being numbed with a strange fog that left you feeling empty——No...no, empty wasn't enough to describe this strange mental hollowness that dominated every cell in your body.

"Just relax. Once I snap my fingers, you'll go back to normal. Okay?" Vacuously, you nod your head, the motion akin to that of a rag doll being shaken about. A little unnerving, yes, but it's a rather humorous sight nonetheless. "Good, good. Not so hard to just kick back and relax is it?"

Lee ruffles your hair, inwardly chuckling as he notices more stray hairs begin to stick up from the mass. It truly completes the workaholic and sleep-deprived image that he’s heard so much about from passing conversation he just so happened to overhear. Though, now that he has you like this, he isn’t all too sure what he really wants to do to you. Or perhaps he does know, but he’s just too accustomed to pushing those thoughts to the back burner.

As his hand trails south before resting against your cheek, his thumb comes to rest against your chapped lips—that was no surprise since he’d seen you lick them so much—and he absentmindedly rubs along the uneven surface.

Lee swallows hard and mutters a small ‘pardon me.’

He dips his thumb past your lips experimentally, circling the thick digit around and coating it in your spit. The warmth of your mouth, the wetness of your tongue, and the titillating tension of this situation chip away at something deep inside Lee. Yes, he was quite the trusted comrade whom you'd seek out whenever he made his visits to the landship. But he knew quite well that there was always a bit of tension between the two of you. It wasn't bad, heavens no, but Lee would have to be a fool to not pick up on the playful smiles, the suggestive remarks thrown his way, how you so teasingly expose the more sensuous parts of your body by bending over...Those were just a few he could list off the top of his head right now.

He could name a couple more, but he's getting distracted by the minuscule whines you produce as he continues to probe your tiny mouth. A part of him wonders if you're responding this way simply because it's him touching you. 

He's decided. Why waste an opportunity as good as this? He grabs your shoulder and guides you to the couch, which he eagerly plops down upon—yeah, he’s pumped full of excitement, who wouldn’t be? Lee makes sure to spread his legs nice and wide; he’s at least kind enough to not make you spread them apart yourself.

"On your knees." Lee winces a bit at how suddenly you drop to the floor, and he's rather inclined to stop and check for any bruising or irritation. But you don't even so much as flinch, hardly showing any sort of reflexive response to the discomfort. Hesitantly satisfied, the detective relaxes the tension in his body. Well, at least you'd simply have to suffer through some scuffed kneecaps, but nothing too serious that would require the attention of a medic.

"Undress me. Waist down," Lee blinks hard as if thinking over his command, watching as you sluggishly fumble with his belt and attempt to push away the countless accessories that adorn his lower half. Somehow, you manage to undo the leather strap and pull the zipper down, revealing grey boxers. Upon noticing you attempting to pull his pants down even further, he seems to realize something. "Actually, scratch that. Just.. just pull my pants low enough. It'll make clean-up easier..."

He mumbles that last part to himself, but thankfully you pay no heed and instead hook a few fingers into the waistband of his underwear to pull it down. What awaits you is a thin slit, though two pink tips of sorts have begun to slowly slide out.

"Well go on. They won't come out if you just keep staring. Make sure you really use your tongue, okay?" You duck your head dangerously close to the protruding tips and swipe a tiny lick that has Lee's hips jolt ever so slightly. Your blunt little tongue teases him relentlessly, easily covering the tips from view and even occasionally dipping into his slit. The detective groans at that, swallowing down the urge to cum right then and there.

"Oh yeah, I don't want to see you touching yourself in any way. This is your punishment Doctor," he ordered, eyeing your hands just in case you got a bit too into this and decided to get yourself off. He couldn't allow that, now could he?

But you remain obedient, latching onto his slit and coating it in your spit in a bid to ease out his cocks. Lee has to admit that you look adorable with your mouth so lovingly devoted to him, and he's almost tempted to order you to touch yourself, to see you satisfying your own base desires without any shame. Almost.

You should be scared. You should terrified out of your mind, feeling your own body acting your will and unable to do anything about it. But, you’re not. Okay, maybe you’re a bit nervous, but it’s the kind of nervousness that borders on feeling good. Normally, you'd be waayy too scared and end up fumbling over yourself in these kinds of situations, but that's not the case here. Your head is all fuzzy, but it feels, like, good? Your entire body feels warm and relaxed, and while that might've been a bit scary to others, all you can feel is a strange pleasure that induces heat to pool into your belly.

Maybe it’s the hypnosis making your brain feel all funny, or maybe it’s because you just like Lee so much, but you find that following Lee’s orders comes rather easy. Then again, it’s just the hypnosis scrambling your brain, right?

With a sudden pop! that sounds perversely wet, the two tips push forward and expose the rest of his manhood in all its glory. You don't react, don't pull your head back out of surprise, and as a result, his cocks push right up against your face. It'd be comical if you'd reacted with any sort of surprise or nervousness, but there were no such expressions on your face.

He's..he's really big...♡ He has two cocks, both shaped like elongated teardrops, and have a sort of pinkish-red color to them. They look really smooth, save for a few prominent veins that pulse rapidly. Even despite your relaxed body, you can't help the small pang of anxiety at the thought of those... going inside of you. Would they even fit..? Your cunt clenches up just thinking about taking his cocks all the way inside. He'd... he'd really break you if he was gonna fuck your cunt with them...♡

"Suck." Lee watches quietly, his face expressionless as he awaits your obedience. Sluggishly, you nod, and slowly press your lips against the left one—well, your left. Your earlier guessed observation of his shaft's texture proves correct, as the almost unnaturally smooth surface seamlessly slides against your lips, and dribbles of precum stick to your skin. You open up your mouth and begin to suckle on the tip, the sleek texture of his cock allowing it to slide into your mouth more easily. 

Lee jolts, clearly being rather sensitive right there. “Fuck, that’s--shit!”

His cocks have a really funny smell; it's all musky and thick and it makes your head spin every time you breathe. It's the kind of smell that you can't help but get addicted to, wanting to breathe it in more even if you're supposed to find it off-putting. Acting on your desires with nothing to stop you, you inhale an extra bit of air as you bob your head up and down on his shaft. Who knew that just the smell of his shafts would turn you on even more? Lee doesn’t seem to notice your strange scent obsession, and if he does, he gives no sign of stopping you anytime soon.

"Excited are we?" He breathed out, hitching a noise that suspiciously bordered on a sensual moan as you pushed your head down to the base. When you repeat that motion, this time Lee moans, a husky and rumbled noise that strikes straight into your core. "Q...Quite gifted with your mouth, aren't you? I wonder where you learned to be so skilled?"

He sounds a bit mocking as if the possible scenario of you on your knees before another man really grates on his nerves. His jealousy wasn’t really rooted in much plausibility, though, since you had often spent countless daydreams conjuring up scenarios like these with Lee in mind. Maybe that’s why you’re so enthusiastically sucking him off even with the hypnosis supposedly making you more robotic—it simply allowed you to act on what you’ve always wanted to do.

Thanks to Lee's little hypnosis trick, your gag reflex is practically nonexistent, evidenced when the pointed tip of his cock hits the back of your throat and all you react with is a muffled moan. Though you’d be ashamed to admit that you’d secretly been testing your gag reflex with a banana whenever you were alone in the break room. It was for science, you swear! And you can get away with saying that because you technically were a neurologist! When scientists do this, it’s an area of interest, not a fetish.

He’s beginning to leak a lot more, salty and oozing pre-cum starting to dribble out in thicker amounts, both inside the confines of your throat and his other cock dripping on your clothes. It even tastes funny too, all salty and bitter and thick—was this even really his pre-cum, or is Lee just really pent-up to the point where he’s leaking out so much? The wise Mr. Lee really was just a perverted old man in the end.

Well, you’d be a hypocrite at this point since you aren’t exactly faring much better either. Your cunt’s been practically melting, slick juices rapidly pooling down and drenching your panties to the point where it’s already started to ooze through. On reflex, you start rubbing your thighs together the best you can, but with how your legs are spread, it comes off as an awkward little butt wiggle. It’s barely enough to even really stimulate you, much less properly get you off, but what little friction you can work up soothes that aching heat, if only barely.

Lee’s moaning a bit louder now, your tongue rubbing the underside of his dick with the kind of pleasurable tickle that makes him want to cum already. But it’s not enough for the detective. He needs more than this. His other shaft is just awkwardly rubbing against your face, with hardly any stimulation other than the feel of your skin. And that couldn’t have possibly been enough, now could it?

“Hey, d-don’t leave this one all alone,” he mumbled, jutting his hips forward in an attempt to get your attention on his other cock, all lonely and unattended to. Though all he succeeds in is shoving his dick further down your throat. “Give it some attention too. Use your hand.”

Giving him a moan of obedience, you clumsily raise a hand to wrap around his poor ignored cock and begin to pump. After barely even a few pumps, when your hand comes back up to enclose the pointy tip, your palm, and fingers are coated in thick globs of pre-cum. They make the motions of your hands easier, the wet glide allowing you to better pleasure him and give the tip that soft squeeze that makes Lee ooze more juices. You can feel a few veins that add a texture to the smooth wet surface, and when your fingers rub against them, Lee shivers a bit.

It’s still a bit difficult to comprehend that he’d be this pent-up to be leaking so much—maybe it was a Lungmenite thing, they were technically dragons after all. But another whiff of that addictive, musky smell and you stop thinking about it.

Clearly, the double stimulation was proving to be too much for Lee, because he orders you to “stop” with a shaky voice, completely different from how smug and charismatic he usually was. You obey, with his dick still stuffed down your throat and his other dick being gently held at the base. He has to take a few moments to breathe in deeply before he gives you his next order.

“P…put both of the tips in your mouth and jerk both of them off at the same time until I cum.”

Your compliance is immediate, and you have to pull his dick out from the depths of your throat (which makes Lee jolt and groan at the loss of heat) and pull at his other dick so it’s angled towards your mouth. He winces at the tugging on his cocks, but as soon as your tiny mouth simultaneously licks on both tips and your hands begin to jerk off both lengths, he forgets all about the discomfort. He’s more focused on your frantic movements and the building crescendo of muffled moans as if you’re moving in tune with his reactions and approaching orgasm.

But in reality, you’re on the verge of bursting yourself; that burning hot coil in your lower belly has become unbearably tight and even if your brain is all fuzzy and feeling weird, you still feel of pang of desperation to reach your climax as well. Your body acts on those desires for you; sucking harder, jerking faster, licking all the sensitive spots—

“Dammit, you—(name),” he panted, expression all scrunched up,” make sure you drink it all up. Don’t… spill!”

He shuddered and dug his fingers so hard into your skull that he’s probably leaving imprints behind on your scalp, but that’s the last thing on his mind right now. From the way he pulls down, your teeth grazing against his tips—he wants to keep them in there as he finishes in your mouth, grimacing hard enough to reveal sharp canines and wheezing your name, the sensation clearly is a lot for him. It’s enough that you gag a little, greedily gulping down the gooey release as best you can to keep up with the excessive amount that floods into your mouth.

There’s just so much; would he fill your belly with lots of thick cum when he fucked your pussy?♡ If he came this much from a simple blowjob and handjob, then how would there be when he finally worked his way to your cunt. You… you’d definitely get knocked up with his babies if he came inside...♡ Just the mere thought of Lee possibly impregnating you with his potent seed is all it took, and you were coming for him, seizing up and sobbing with a few selective moans—incoherent and sweet.

It takes a bit longer for Lee to come down from his climax, your warm mouth milking his dick for a few more spurts of his release, but he practically collapses against the couch once it’s over. It was most certainly the strongest orgasm he’s had in quite a long time, so he just needed a minute to calm down, that’s all. So he sucks in a nice deep breath from his stomach (diaphragmatic breathing was certainly beneficial for the lungs!) and breathes out heavily—

The audible sound of gulping quickly snaps him out of his stupor, and when he glances at you, he catches a glimpse of your cute stubby tongue swiping at the excess release on your skin.

"Did you—?" Lee jolts forward like he's been hit by a lightning bolt and for a moment he looks flustered, his thumb pressing your jaw down without any resistance as he scans your slack mouth. He'd been so focused on the high of his orgasm that he forgot that he was going to order you to spit it out. "Hah, you really swallowed it all, huh?"

You don't answer him, hazy eyes staring up at him blankly as he thumbs away the small streaks of his release on the corner of your lips. It felt rather strange to see you so quiet, considering that it was commonplace for you to be throwing teasing remarks his way. Well, if he ignored the fact that you were hypnotized—

"Oh right, forgot you're still hypnotized. Sorry about that," he murmured, mostly to himself. Heh, look at him, forgetting that he'd hypnotized you and had to snap you out of that trance. He really is getting old if he can't keep track of that. With a graceful flick of his wrist, Lee finally snaps his fingers, the sound as crisp as the crunch of an autumn leaf that resounds in the empty room.

Like a switch, the haziness in your eyes fades away, and the familiar twinkle returns. You blink. Once. Twice. Your eyes dart around the room, seemingly a bit nervously before they land on him. Realization seems to hit you and—

"You are such a horny fuck, y'know that?" Yeah, there you are. You're certainly back to normal, with no repercussions whatsoever. Well, except for him getting a bit of an earful from you, though Lee can just smile as your words go in one ear and out the other.

"Ugh, you dirty old man, my underwear's all sticky now," you hiss, shifting your thighs and grimacing at how slick your inner thighs are now. Lee breathlessly chuckles, flashing you a lazy smile as his body sinks into the couch. When you attempt to lift yourself up, you huff once the familiar pins and needles feeling makes itself apparent in your legs. "And I can't feel my damn legs, and—ow, my fuckin' knees..."

Hearing the metal clink of his belt, you realize he's attempting to slip on his pants in a somewhat presentable fashion. Oh, you thought he would touch you even more, and—wait, were you seriously disappointed by him not going further? Geez, what's wrong with you?! This wasn't like all those hentai stories where the girl becomes a slut for the guy's cock—everyone knows that hentai has the worst logic imaginable when it came to sexual happenings!

Besides, Lee would have to at least take you out to dinner and wine and dine you before you can officially admit that you'd be a willing slut for his cocks. You have standards!

"Now now, no need to fuss (name)," Lee hums, paying no mind to your rather cute attempt at a threat, having long gotten used to your little quips. "Have some tea, it's still warm; it'll soothe your nerves."

"You seriously think a cup of tea is gonna calm me down?" You gawk at him incredulously, grunting as you force yourself to stand up. Grumbling a quiet thank you as he places a steady hand on your hip, you plop down unceremoniously on the couch next to him. "Because you're right. Gimme that."

You hold out your hand like a child asking for a cookie, and Lee places the cup in your open palm, but not before shaking his head and snorting at your childish mannerisms. After pouring himself a cup and inhaling the rich aroma of the tea, he finally takes a sip and sighs in contentment.

As you sip at the lukewarm tea and bask in the atmosphere, you ponder whether these late-night relaxation sessions will occur regularly. Heh, you suppose that you're a bit of a masochist if you find this stern admonishment enjoyable and something to look forward to. Perhaps next time, Lee will go even further than what he did this time. A delicious shiver runs up your spine at the thought of all the ways the laid-back detective could toy with your body.

If that was the case, you were looking forward to next time.

© latimeriafellfromheaven

[sakumasmut]

Yes I know this is late, but what kind of event runner would I be if I didn’t participate? hopefully the other fics I have planned will be a bit more on time (this is unlikely)

Day 1 of Es x reader nsfw week!

Hiyori x Jun x Fem!Reader

ao3

tags: threesome, double penetration, vaginal sex, creampie, breeding, degradation

“God, you’re such a slut.”

Hiyori’s mean words went straight to your cunt, and his mouth curled into a smirk when he felt your walls clench harder around him. Maybe you could’ve denied his statement, even been a brat and talked back about his own sexual habits. But the fact was that not only was Hiyori’s cock pressing right against your cervix, but joining it was Jun’s equally girthy length, the duo’s simultaneous penetration stretching your pussy out to its limits and turning your brain to mush.

“To think you were a virgin when we first met, and now look at you, letting the two of us fuck you at once.” He squeezed your breasts, accentuating his point with shallow thrusts upwards, the small movements making you cry out in pleasure.

“H-Hiyor—AH!”

A particularly hard thrust from behind made you squeal, hands shooting out against Hiyori’s chest to break your fall. His skin was so soft and warm, covered in a sheen of sweat. You would’ve admired the view more, but the way Jun’s cock was rubbing against your sweet spot just right forced that thought out as quickly as it popped up, replacing it with static as you squealed again.

“So fucking tight…” Jun moaned, hands gripping your hips so hard they were sure to bruise. “Can’t get enough.”

He was definitely exerting more effort than Hiyori in pounding your insides. Not that the latter was enjoying it any less, he simply preferred to watch, getting just as much pleasure from the friction of Jun’s cock against his, combined with the way your warm walls squeezed him.

“Now, now, Jun, don’t go finishing before me.” Hiyori tisked, wagging a finger at him. “Put that stamina training to use~”

Jun panted in acknowledgement, too focused on the slapping of his balls against your ass each time he pushed inside you. Your slick folds tried their best to cling to their lengths, only for them to futilely slip out and crash back into you like a neverending barrage of attacks. Their thrusting being out of sync also meant that you couldn’t relax for even a moment, your body as tense as a string of thread being pulled on both sides by these two, just waiting for it to snap.

“You really are a cute little thing.” Hiyori sighed in admiration. “All ours to use. How lucky are you that you get to be Eve’s personal slut? I wouldn’t put this cute pussy of yours to better use, wouldn’t you agree, Jun-kun?”

“Y-Yeah.” He groaned. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

“Careful about finishing inside,” Hiyori teased, “unless you want a little Jun-kun running around. Then again, /name/‘s been such a whore. She surely won’t mind carrying a baby or two, am I wrong?”

The sudden suggestion of getting pregnant certainly wasn’t something you previously considered, but maybe it was the daze from how horny you were, or Hiyori’s voice just had that magical effect on you, because you found yourself not minding the idea of carrying their kids. It wasn’t just a want though, in your lust filled state it had turned into a need.

“If you want us to pull out, just say the word. Otherwise…” Hiyori tilted your chin up to meet his eyes, the lust contained in them indescribable.

“We’ll make sure to stuff your womb to the brim.”

You felt the thread pulled taut inside you finally snap.

“Please!” You were almost sobbing from the pleasure. “Please, I need your seed inside me! Hiyori! Jun!”

Responding to your request, they sped up even more than before, and with Hiyori’s fingers on your chest and Jun’s hands on your hips, your climax was reached in no time. You cried out a barrage of pleading and begging as they fucked you through your orgasm, making sure they knew just how much you wanted this, to be used like a cum dump. You weren’t sure who came next, you just knew that after a few more seconds both stilled inside you, letting out pretty moans of their own as a flood of warmth entered you. The amount pouring in from the two idols was immense, you could feel their cum seeping out of the gaps between you and their lengths, the sticky release trailing down your thighs.

“Mm, you like that, don’t you?” Hiyori looked over your dazed form, happy with the result of his and Jun’s efforts. “Well, we’ve only just begun.”