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indigoflorals · 1 year

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hi! can i request a smuit one jj with a reader that has a praise kink please

gravity (18+)

JJ Maybank x Reader

Sum: You and JJ get high and he reminds you what you’re worth.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, drug use, sex while under the influence of drugs, smoking, praise kink

𖥸

Your best friend handed you the makeshift gravity bong with a low laugh. “You’ve really never hit a gb before?”

Sticking your tongue out, you snatched the water bottle from his hand and inspected it. “Not everyone was a druggie in high school, JJ.”

“Okay, wow, hurtful,” He mocked you, “Anyway, let me help you,” he took the bottle from your hands, “I bet you don’t even know how to use it.”

You began to interject but silenced yourself. You didn’t know how to use it. He wasn’t wrong.

You watched carefully as his nimble fingers packed the small metal piece at the cap with what weed you had provided. After, he pulled a lighter from his back pocket and rolled it to a flame.

“Now,” He made eye contact with you, “I’m gonna light it, take a deep breath, hold it, then breathe out.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ve smoked before, J.” You grumbled, pulling the bottle from his hands after he lit it. Exhaling sharply, you placed the cap to your lips and sucked in a strong breath. The smoke burned your throat and lungs but you held back the cough out of embarrassment.

You breathed out, coughing a few times and your eyes watering.

“Not so bad, huh?” He smiled, taking the bottle to hit it himself.

You coughed. “Not so bad.”

The rest of your night together was spent making corny jokes and passing the bong back and forth between you in his truck. You had never been in a hor box before but this time was certainly relaxing.

“And that’s how I broke Pope’s arm,” The blond laughed, sinking back into the drivers seat, “What’s your best story?”

“Shit,” You breathed, scanning your memory. “Oh I have a fucking good one.”

“Oh yeah?”

You laughed to yourself as the memory came to you. “I was seventeen. Seventeen and super stupid.”

JJ took another hit of the bong before offering it to you. “Weren’t we all?” He coughed.

“Well,” You took a hit, “I was like lose my virginity to Rafe Cameron stupid.”

JJ spun to face you in an instant and you burst out laughing at the shocked expression on his face. “No shit? How long have we been friends and you didn’t tell me?”

“It was embarrassing!” You protested, placing the water bottle in a cup holder, “I didn’t want you to think differently of me.”

He was silent for a moment. “Different? I’d really only feel bad. I’m sure he treated you like shit.”

“Fucking tell me about it. What kind of guy does absolutely zero foreplay?” You huffed, reclining back to put your feet on the dash.

The blond didn’t respond, only stared at you for a moment before looking away.

“What, JJ?” You asked, sitting up to lean toward him. “Jealous of me fucking Rafe?”

Okay. You were certain you were way too high now. This was your best friend. Why would you say that?

“Not jealous,” He turned to face you, eyes locking with yours, “Just upset he couldn’t make you feel good like you deserve.”

You felt a flush of heat to your core at his words. Certain that your cheeks were dusted pink, you turned away. “Fuck why are we even talking about this. I’m too high.”

JJ turned to you with an expression that only made your panties wetter. His face scanned yours and his eyes ran up and down the expanse of your body. “You’re fine, baby.”

At this point you were definitely shaking from the nervousness of being this close to someone so attractive. You had hardly thought of JJ as more than a friend before today. Suddenly the feelings of attraction were clearly mutual.

“Do you wanna get in the back?”

You didn’t hesitate to nod, scooting up onto your shins to climb over the divider into the bench of the truck. JJ followed immediately after and wasted no time pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss was like an attack. There was a hunger behind it. It was filled with lust and need and the feeling of doing something so foreign with someone so familiar was strange.

His tongue swiped your bottom lip and slid into your mouth. He tasted then of weed and mint, and you made a note that you liked it.

The blond pulled away, sliding his face into the crevice of your neck. “I’ve wanted this for so long.” He moaned, kissing your neck.

His hands slid up your chest to palm at your breasts. You leaned back into the door to give him more room, and he slipped a hand under your shirt to feel you over your bra. You arched into his touch, his palms cold on your sensitive skin.

Pulling away from from your neck, he leaned back to reach for the hem of your shirt. He pulled it upwards, careful to go slow over your breasts to drop them and watch them jiggle. When you were completely shirtless, he only stared, watching the way your tits pooled over the cup line of your bra.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He groaned, leaning in to suck and plant love bites on the top of your chest. You reach behind yourself, thinking at the clasp of your bra. After a few distracted tries, you unclipped your bra, your tits falling outwards.

JJ places his face in between them and motorboated you. “Oh my fucking god they’re perfect.”

“Stop.” You giggled. “You’re so high.”

“Nah.” He kicked one nipple, sucking it and releasing it with a pop. “You just have the best fucking tits.”

He continued to suck on your tits while working to unbutton your shorts. He popped the button, and unzipped them full before releasing your nipple and pausing to breathe. “Can I take these off?”

“Please.” You moaned. “Need you to fuck me JJ.”

A feel groan erupted from his throat at your words. “Can’t say shit like that.”

You lifted your hips to allow him to pull your shorts and panties down, and he leaned back to undress himself. You watched as he exposed his muscular arms and chest, and pulled out his cock to slap back against his stomach.

“Bigger than Rafe?” He teased.

You slapped his face gently and he crinkled his nose. “Oh shut up.” You mumbled before scooting over fo straddle him.

“Look at you,” He reached a hand to fist at the fat of your ass, “So fucking gorgeous for me. My girl.”

You leaned down to kiss him, and felt his right hand slide to your pussy. Two fingers poked at your vagina while his thumb rolled circles on your clit. You moaned into his mouth as he pushed his fingers inside of you.

He pulled back and you hurried your face into his neck. “Does that feel good baby? You’re so good. Doing so good for me.”

You shuddered, whining quietly when he curled his fingers to rub your g-spot.

“That’s it baby. Just relax into me. Be my good girl.”

His pace against your clit quickened, and you felt a sensation begin to burn in your lower stomach. “J, I’m think I’m close.”

“Look at me.” He spoke softly, and a strong hand came to the back of your neck to pull you. Blue eyes locked with yours as you felt the coil begin to snap. “Cum for me baby. Be a good girl and cum all over my fingers.”

You sobbed as you felt your orgasm wash over you, and liquid rolled down his fingers and onto his thighs. “That’s it baby, so good for me.”

His hand contained rubbing circles into your back as you came down from your high.

The blond placed a soft kiss to your temple. “Think you’re ready for me?”

Your only nodded, too tired to respond.

He lifted your hips gently, lining himself up with your hole. Slowly, he dropped you down onto himself, and you came to life at the feeling.

You sunk your nails into his biceps. “J! Oh my god! Feels so good!”

He moaned your name at the feeling of you clenching around him. “Holy fuck. You’re so good baby. Feel so fucking good. Best pussy I ever had.”

You cried, leaning your face into his shoulder as he contained to fuck up into you. Before you knew it, your second orgasm washed over you in a warm flurry. As you squeezed him, you felt him throb inside you.

“Oh you feel too good I can’t last holy fuck. Holy fuck.” He moaned, whining a bit as you felt him pulse, starting to cum inside of you.

With a strong pull, he lifted you off of himself, cumming on your pussy and thighs. He lowered you down to relax into him, and you cuddled into his chest.

“You did so good baby. I hope I made you feel good.” He rubbed your head.

You hummed in response.

“As much as I don’t wanna move, we gotta go get you Plan B.”

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

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The Detour 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Thor

Summary: You find yourself stranded in a small village.

Part of the Backwoods AU

Note: So this is an idea I had for a while but I just know I wouldn't get to do it full length for chapters but I hope it's fun.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You watch the green landscape pass outside the window. The tow truck rattles, almost to a concerning degree, as it chuffs down the winding country road. The driver, a man who calls himself Vol, sings along loudly to the radio as you make yourself small in the passenger seat.

This isn’t how you saw your road trip going. You don’t understand why something always has to go wrong. Even with your utmost efforts, there’s always some hitch.

You go over it all in your head. An oil change, standard check-up, some adjustments. All that on a nearly new model and you still ended up stranded. A flat tire but you don’t have a spare. The man promises one back at his shop.

Whatever it costs, you don’t care. You’re annoyed at the time spent on this ridiculous mishap. It does seem to occur often that each time you attempt to do something for yourself, that there must be some disaster. It’s why you haven’t tried anything of the sort in years.

You look in the mirror and see the edge of your car strapped to the bed of the truck. You should’ve done the train. The view along the cross country rail is allegedly quite resplendent but you didn’t like the idea of having to abide by a schedule not your own. Once again, your stubbornness nips you in the rear.

The man slaps the steering wheel along to the beat of the music. You don’t mind the song, it’s considered a classic of the genre, but does it need to be so loud? You cross your arms and huff, the noise of your displeasure drowned out by the crackling speakers.

Country houses stand on hills and fields sprawl with freshly sowed fields. You try to imagine a life here, away from the bustling furor of the city. That thought makes your chest want to collapse. You couldn’t do it. You are urban to the core.

As you come to the heart of the village, the houses are placed closer but not clustered. Only along the sparse row of their ‘downtown’ do buildings dare to touch. It’s after five and the shops are all closed for the day.

“Garage is just behind Mary’s place,” the man turns down the radio, “we’ll get a better look at the damage.” He assures you, peeking at you in the rear view, “these old country roads aren’t meant for speeding.”

“I wasn’t…” you cut yourself off. You won’t argue. You just want a new tire, “right, thank you.”

He chuckles, nonplussed by your curtness. He steers around another long bend in the road. Why must everything be so tedious and slow? He shuttles up to a bright red structure that resembles a barn. Across the moniker, hand painted nonetheless, is the name Volstagg’s. He flips the stick to park and kills the engine.

“Here,” he proclaims, pausing as his eyes pinpoint through the windshield, “ah, of course.”

He clicks his seat belt and lets it repel. He swings open the door so violently it shakes the entire vehicle. You furrow your brow as he hops down and hollers. What on earth is he doing?

“...working. What d’you want?” Is all you catch through his chortling grit.

“Good to see you too, friend,” another voice counters, even deeper and smooth like silk. Great, another of the village folk.

You undo your seat belt and check your reflection in the side mirror. You open the door and plant your heel on the little metal step below the door. You let yourself down but stumble at the still jarring height of the truck cabin. You cling to the door as you gain your balance.

You shut it with a creak and a clang. Your soles mulch in the dusty gravel as you follow the voices. You clear your throat, facing the men chattering on the other side of the truck. You bring your hands to your hips in a show of your irritation.

“Hullo,” you sneer, “my tire, sir.”

The bearded redhead, Vol, and his companion, a blond even taller and blonder, look over at you with curious expressions. Their faces tint from surprised to amused. You want to roll your eyes. Your stature rarely affords you dignity.

“Yes, ma’am,” the redhead shows his large palm apologetically, “forgive me,” he faces the other man, “as you see, I have work to do.”

“So I see,” the other man drawls, his gaze stuck on you, “you are visiting Hammer Ford?”

You curl your lip, “never. Passing through,” you turn and stride away, towards the front of the building as Vol gets back in his truck.

The blond jogs in front of the high bumper, waving at the driver, as he crosses over to you. You keep your back to him as you strut up the edge of the dirt lot. You try to ignore him as you watch the mechanic angle around to bring your car along the front of the garage, steering the bed towards the doors.

“Passing through. On your way to…?”

“None of your concern,” you sniff, “I only need a new tire and I’ll be gone.”

“Ah, that’s too bad. This is a lovely village. Quaint. You might like it here,” he muses, “a woman like yourself, you might find it novel.”

“A woman like me?” You challenge, facing him at last, well, facing his torso. You look up, “how am I like, sir?”

“Well, from the city presumably,” he tosses back as if mocking your tone, “city folk tend to endear themselves to the quiet here.”

“Mmm,” you accept with a purse of your lips, “I’ll be off as soon as my tire is fixed. I have more important places to be.”

“Fair,” he shrugs, “you do seem rather… important.” He emphasizes the last word, echoing your own statement. You squint and turn away again. You’ll be gone soon enough.

“Vol,” he spins with a holler, bounding off to bother the other man as he works at placing the loading ramps against the truck bed, “before I go…”

His voice trails off as he claps the other man’s shoulder, his volume dropping notably. You slowly drag your heels towards them, receiving another glimpse from the blond’s sea blue eyes. He smirks before he releases his comrade from his bearlike grasp.

“Good day, lady,” he bows his head in exaggerated gallantry, “not to worry, Volstagg always takes special care of the pretty ones.”

#thor #dark thor #dark!thor #thor x reader #au #backwoods au #series #drabble #the detour #mcu #marvel #avengers #volstagg

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libraford · 7 days

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My Uber to my art class today was a truck where the wheels literally went as high as my waist. The driver apologized as I tried to get my tiny 5'1 body into his truck while wearing a skirt.

I know the feeling. When I'm working for parks, the truck is just unreasonably tall and I have to propel myself upwards with core strength and willpower.

Thankfully, not in a skirt.

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thebubblesareevil · 2 years

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Life on the Farm pt2

Im trying not to make my posts TOO long so here’s pt 2

Danny has been on the Kent farm for about a month now and things are going great, he spends his days helping Jonathan with the chores and his night cooking dinner with Martha. He’s bulked up quite a bit, to the point that his old classmates wouldn’t recognize him as tiny Danny Fenton. Every now and again he rides into town with Jonathan to get supplies for the farm.

On this day they are driving into town talking about what Martha is planning for dinner. Neither of them noticed the truck until it was too late. The driver had fallen asleep at the wheel and he didn’t stop at the intersection.

Danny sees the truck at the very last second, turning himself, Jonathan, and the truck intangible. Jonathan looks on is shock as the eighteen wheeler passes THROUGH them. Danny is panicking. As soon as the truck is through he’s about to jump out of the truck and run, but Jonathan grabs his shoulder and points out that the trucker is gonna crash. Jonathan floors it as they chase after the truck. Danny jumps in through the side and manages to hit the brakes.

When he climbs out of the truck Jonathan claps him on the back congratulating him on a job well done. He looks him in the eye and says “it’s gonna be alright, but I think there’s somethings you need to tell Martha and I because I for one have no idea how to explain what just happened.” Danny gives him a huge grin and hugs him.

When they get home he explains everything, about dying, about his parents, about how he’s from another universe. Through it all the Kent’s are silent. Once Danny finishes his explanation he’s nervous, the last time he told someone they tried to finish the job. They just look at each other and laugh “So not an alien then? Darn, well I gotta say another universe is a new one but nothing we can’t handle.” Jonathan smiles

Danny stares “there are aliens in this universe?!?! How did I not know about this!?!” The Kents laugh, Martha pats him on the shoulder “well human or alien, alive or dead I’m afraid you’re family now. So I think it’s about time you start calling me Ma, best get that out of the way now. We’ll need to call Clark as well and tell him the good news, dear. You know he’ll want to fly right over.” She grins at Danny “I think the two of them will get on like a house on fire.” Danny’s not really sure how to react to all this but he can’t say he hates the warm feeling that has made its home next to his core. Jonathan or rather Pa wraps and arm around his shoulder and gives him a grin. “Looks like we’re gonna be a shoo in for this years best haunted hay ride with our very own ghost haunting the fields!” Danny can’t help it he laughs, he laughs until he cries as Ma Kent wraps her arms around him. For the first time in a long time.

He feels warm.

#danny phantom #ghost king danny #dc x dp #brain vomit #au #ma kent #pa kent #Kent farm #Danny turning the truck intangible was the dream that it #that’s what started this #now I kinda add a Christmas special #oh no #it’s happening now #pt 3 is coming #gonna post them all on ao3 later

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niyanoireee · 5 months

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little café au doodles. MORE INFO UNDER CUT.

DONT EVEN FRONT WITH ME I LOVE THIS IDEA SM. Core would be the waiter that always gets tipped, does the most work and knows what each person wants. They’d also get paid the least. Cross and Epic would be chefs, Epic is good at one thing and it’s making cookies. But. . any other dessert will not work out. Cross can cook, relatively well, He’s pretty good but sometimes you’ll find like a toy in your food. NOWW for people I didn’t draw, Murder/Dust and Killer would be the delivery people. Murder would take his sweet ass time getting to their house and eating some of the food of the customers order. Killer would get distracted by EVERYTHING he would feed the food to the kitties on the sidewalk. Literally any cat will get food. Neutral Frisk and Reaper Chara would be bartenders, They’d poison your food and chara would NOTT wear shoes. They’d serve you food with their toes. Neutral would probably give you a warm drink. It would have NO ice. Horror and Ink would be the ones transporting supplies for the chefs, Horror would be the lifter of the heavy packages, And Ink would be the really reckless truck driver. LIKE TERRIBLY RECKLESS. I imagine that Error would be the janitor, Because it’s the easiest job, but he’d make swap clean the bathroom for him. Swap would also be a janitor but he’d help around literally everyone else’s jobs so much that he barely does his own. I HAVE SO MANY OTHER IDEAS BUT THATS IT RNN, I’ll draw more when I can.

#underverse #utmv #undertale au #xtale #undertale #art #sans au #core frisk #error sans #neutral frisk #reapertale #cafe #errortale #murder sans #killer sans #ink sans #nyxnoireee

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lunarw0rks · 8 months

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car sex with valeria….. she has you in her lap in the back of the truck fingering you…. OR the twt link of the cowgirl position i sent yesterday,,,,

omfg imagine valeria does it in the backseat, the partition up while her driver is clueless. or maybe he does hear, but it's not like he's going to complain unless he wants to lose an ear <3

one hand over your mouth, the other occupied with your core — daring you to let a noise slip when you cover her fingers in cum.

#rachel speaks #valeria garza x reader #valeria x reader #valeria cod #valeria headcanons #valeria garza #los vaqueros #kortac operators #kortac #mw2 #call of duty #valeria mw2

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kaaaaaaarf · 10 months

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I Knew Your Love Before I Knew Your Name

I had a vision of Remus halo'd in golden light while driving a truck, this is what came out. I might post to ao3 tomorrow, we'll see. This one is for @crushofdoves 💖

Wolfstar. 300 Words. G. Cowboy Remus Agenda.

Sirius is in a truck with a truly beautiful man. The best and most beautiful man he knows. The sun is streaming in golden through the driver side window, making a halo around the other man’s Stetson— the bridge of his freckled nose casting shadows over his sun kissed cheeks. The air around them smells bittersweet, a heady combination of wildflowers, cedarwood and tobacco. The man— Remus, is grinning around the lyrics to a Lucinda Williams song, gently tapping his fingers on the steering wheel along to the rhythm, his free hand holding Sirius' firmly over a denim clad thigh. He's wearing an unbuttoned, cream, collared shirt. It's gently flapping in the breeze that's being whipped up inside the cab as they drive aimlessly down the gravel back road, rocks pinging off the bumper. The breeze allows Sirius to drink Remus in, strong, lean and breathtaking— a vision in a sweat soaked undershirt. Spots of dirt still linger and discolour the formerly white shirt, left behind from dust clouds stirred up that morning as he rode Sunshine, his old chestnut Appaloosa, around the ranch. An appropriate name, Sirius thinks. Everything about Remus is sunshine. Every sort of warmth radiates from his very core. The song switches over and they exchange knowing grins, wailing "Sweet Caroline" at the top of their lungs— the song floating around the cab, catching on the the wind, and drifting out of Remus' open window. Sirius has shifted his whole body onto the bench seat, feet curled up underneath him. He turns off the radio and rests his head against the soft leather of the head rest, reaching out to tuck a tawny fly-away curl behind Remus’ ear. Sirius lets his fingers linger on a stubbled cheek and speaks over the sound of the road and wind outside. "Let's run away. To some foreign country, where no one knows who we are." Remus chuckles, and for a moment Sirius thinks the radio may still be on for the way it sounds like music. Remus shrugs and says "Okay." like it's the most obvious choice in the world. "Anywhere with you, baby." Sirius is in a truck with Remus, driving to the edge of nowhere in particular; a foreign land; the moon. It’s a perfect day.

#i knew your love before i knew your name #ao3 #cowboy remus agenda #microfic #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #marauders #my fic #Spotify

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nerdieforpedro · 8 months

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A Night of Madness

Joel Miller x plus size female reader

Fanfiction 18+

Warnings: Awkward family dinner, smut, heavy Southern accent, Joel is a menace

Summary: Jane had a one night stand. She meets him a month later at the last place she expected him to be. Joel is well, Joel 'fucking' Miller.

Masterlist

Notes: I made Joel’s accent extra Southern, not sure why just wrote it and kept it. All mistakes are my own. I thought I had posted it last week and still saw it in my drafts. I was very confused. 😐

“Um…hello. Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, name’s Joel doll. So you’re Jane?”

“Yup. I’m Jane. I’m here.” The pair shook hands, Jane felt her face become warm along with her underarms, anxiety is a bitch.

“God, could you two be anymore awkward? You’re the damn godparents for goodness’ sake!” Tommy had his hands on his hips. His brother was a big teddy bear. A mean ass looking one, but still a teddy bear.

“Tommy, ya’ don’t need to yell. Hell, we just met. Since’s he’s not gonna tell ya, you can park right here.” Joel held out a chair for Jane who sat and pulled her pale-yellow sundress down. It was her favorite, made her feel confidant. And she needed to for this so called ‘family dinner.’ Maria had insisted on it, gathering those who she felt closest to. It was sweet but also meant Jane would have to meet new people, like Joel, though he wasn’t exactly new. Joel’s daughter Sarah was previously unknown to Jane as was the adopted Elle and her girlfriend Star. Jane knew Tommy and Maria of course and their two children, Maria was six months along again.

The teens were playing with children while the adults spoke, Maria asked for Tommy’s help in the kitchen, presumably to explain again why this was a good idea when maybe it wasn’t. Did they really need to meet? Joel didn’t think so, though he was shocked it was the same woman who last time he saw her she was in a royal blue dress one month prior.

He had seen her in a bar and she looked very out of place. Apparently she had gotten separated from her friends and was asking the bartender if he had her phone’s type of charger. He did not. Joel offers to buy her a drink and to use his car charger. He thinks he knows where it is in the truck. She was weary but did need to to be charged, so she agreed and set out to his truck, she laughed about her poor luck and was thankful he was not a creep as she put it. Joel laughed and put a hand over hers, telling her he wasn’t, she would be safe with him. Her fingers intertwined with his and she leaned over giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Be careful who you say that to handsome. You might get more than you bargained for.” Her sultry voice and made Joel shift in the driver’s seat.

“That right doll? I don’t ’suppose ya’ nothing I can’t handle. I might give ya’ sumtin’ ya’ll never forget.” Joel’s other hand cradled her head and pulled him to her, crashing their lips together. It wasn’t long before she had her panties off and Joel was being jerked off by her. She then rode him both in his truck and when he was able to drive, on his couch later. After napping, he insisted that they go to the bedroom where the elder Miller made sure to take his time, get her out of the dress so he could explore all of her curves. He expected her to be hesitant but she was bold and poked fun at him for bemoaning his back. She soon was made to swallow her words as well as Joel’s cock. He tasted her core and couldn’t get enough of her, but the time the sun rose in the morning, they were sprawled across the bed, tangled in each other. It was then that she nervously said she had to go. He didn’t get a name or a number. Turned out she gave him something he couldn’t forget too.

Now they were sitting, making small talk over pasta and garlic bread like none of that happened. She was giggling like everything was fine. When dinner finished, Tommy and Maria put the kids to bed while Elle drove Sarah and Star to a local concert, Joel had already agreed on account of Sarah’s excellent grades, now they were left in an uncomfortable silence. Jane spoke first, after five solid minutes of quiet. “It’s, I don’t think we should mention that we know each other at all. It will make it weirder than it already is.”

“That so doll? Houdya figure?” Joel leaned forward, he had rolled up the sleeves of his red flannel shirt, with a smirk on his face. Jane’s met them and then went back to his face. It was frozen right now, but she remembered the expressions, the sheer awe that it showed looking at her naked form. No one else had treated her with such reverence. It scared her and she didn’t know the man’s name. Her first one might stand. It was easier to do than she thought, but so hard to leave. She knew if she didn’t Jane would have never called an Uber and left. “I remember a hellova night and morning.” His accent sent shivers up her spine. She thought she had a night of madness but she knew she was wrong. It was everything about him, the accent, his hulking frame actually making her feel small. Those hands all over her body and the praises he gave her.

“Doll you sound fuckin’ beautiful right now.”

“Tightest pussy I’ve had, you took me all the way in.”

“Shit that tongue, make me drown ya’ throat.”

“Fuck Doll you’re so soft, lemme hold ya’ stay right there. Not pulling out ‘till I harden up ‘gain.”

Jane remembered all of it and he had given her something she’d never forget. She’d gone so far as to go back to that bar and ask the bartender if he know the man she had left with. He’d scoffed at her and told her it wasn’t his job to remember everyone she fucked. She may have through another person’s bourbon at him. A waste of good liquor.

“I can’t…I lost myself that night and became,” Jane whispered “a bit concerned about finding you. So we can’t…” Her train of thought was lost when Joel’s hand patted her thigh. His touch gentler than the smirk he had.

“Jane, you look pretty in that yellow dress. Damn near close to that blue one you had on.” Joel’s thumb pressed into her thick thigh before scooting closer to her and leaning into her ear. “Still prefer you out of it. I wanna grab ya’ and see ya’ dripping’ fer me.” He left a small kiss to her check and stood to meet the footsteps he heard coming down the stairs. Jane felt her thigh where Joel’s hand had been, missing the pressure.

“You two make things a bit more friendly? You can’t be stiff ‘round each other. For the kids’ sake.” Tommy chimed as he hugged Maria. Jane stood and nodded, hugging the happy couple before moving toward the door. Joel used his long legs to meet her there and open it for her. “Brother, walk her to the car. She parked on the street. Elle’s car was blocking the driveway earlier.” He suggested, Jane put her hands in front of her plush belly, she normally did that when she was anxious. A given since she felt she might fuck him in her car on the street outside of her friend’s house. Joel and Jane stepped out of the house in silence until they got to her car.

“What is it about you that makes me want to have you rail me? I feel insane…” Jane opened her car door and tossed her purse in, slipping her keys in one her dress pockets. Joel stepped to embrace her but she stopped him, putting her hands on his chest. “No. Give me your number Miller. Tell your girls you’re sleeping over at your brother’s house. You’re following me to my place. Now.” He commanded and hopped into her car. Joel put both hands up and walked around to her window.

“I showed ya’ what ya’ couldn’t handle Jane. Now you wanna keep handlin’ it until ya’ understand. I’m fine ridin’ ya out Doll. I’ll follow ya’ and show ya’ some good lovin’ darlin’.”

The Tag List:

@fhatbhabie @morallyinept @pedritapascal @pascalsanctuary @nissaimmortal @grogusmum @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @goodwithcheese @iamasaddie @psychedelic-ink @modernperplexity @pamasaur @pedrodascal @marcus-is-my-muse @clawdee @mintypossum @trulybetty @perotovar @joelslegalwhre @josephquinnswhore @mandoisapunk @awilderi @deviinci @secretelephanttattoo @for-a-longlongtime @tessa-quayle @legendary-pink-dot @sin-djarin @maggiemayhemnj @rhoorl @magpiepillsjunior @intoanotherworld23 @beabliss @alwaysmicado @daddy-dins-girl

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x plus size reader #Joel miller is a manace #tlou

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themorbidwriter · 6 months

Text

As the truck drove down the highway, the engine roaring and tires humming against the pavement, you found yourself confined to the sleeper. Rusty had made it abundantly clear that he didn't want to look at you right now, let alone hear anything from you. The tension between you two was palpable, a heavy cloud hanging in the air.

It pained you to realize that you had thrown away all the kindness and care Rusty had shown you. He had treated you so well, even going as far as creating a room specifically for you. And yet, in a moment of desperation, you had attempted to escape. It was selfish, you knew that. You should have appreciated what you had, but fear had overridden reason.

Now, here you were, both confined to the truck, on a haul that had become a silent expanse of unspoken words. Rusty couldn't trust you to be left alone again, not after what had transpired. The disappointment in his eyes had dug deep into your core. So you sat in silence, contemplating how you could possibly earn back his trust.

As the minutes ticked by, the weight of the silence became unbearable. You could no longer stand the deafening absence of communication between you and Rusty. It felt as though the road itself was mocking your failed escape attempt. With a deep breath, you summoned the courage to break the tension.

"Rusty?" you whispered hesitantly, your voice barely audible above the rumble of the truck's engine. "Rusty… please talk to me."

You could feel the tension in the air as you swallowed nervously and slowly made your way beside Rusty in the driver's seat of the truck. His narrowed eyes glanced at you briefly, but he chose not to say anything about your disobedience of coming out of the sleeper when you were explicitly told to stay there. In that fleeting moment, you wished he would scold you, yell at you, anything to show that he cared enough to reprimand you.

But instead, he turned his face away from you, his attention focused solely on the road ahead. You could tell he was deliberately avoiding any conversation or interaction with you, knowing that speaking to you would only lead to hurt feelings and a further deterioration of your already fragile relationship. It was as if he had built an impenetrable wall around his emotions, shutting you out completely.

As you hesitated, unsure of what to do next, you couldn't help but question yourself. Why did you have to break the rules and disobey him again? Why did you constantly disappoint him? You had wanted so desperately to be a good pet, to please him in every way possible, and yet here you were, facing the consequences of your actions.

The truck rumbled along the open road, the sound of the engine providing a constant reminder of your mistake. Your heart ached with regret as you mustered up the courage to inch closer to Rusty. His eyes flickered momentarily from the road, curious to see what you were up to. And just as you reached over and gently grasped his hand, he didn't pull away. He just watched, his gaze unreadable, as you pressed a soft kiss to his calloused fingers.

Silence hung heavily in the air, the only sound being the passing traffic and the rhythmic thudding of your own heartbeat. It was in that moment that you hoped your actions would speak louder than any words could. You hoped to convey your remorse, your love, your longing for forgiveness through that simple act of tenderness.

But Rusty remained stoic, his emotions masked behind a hardened expression. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate your affectionate gesture or the love you were trying to convey; it was that he knew allowing himself to be vulnerable in that moment would only deepen the hurt. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you, but he also couldn't seem to let go of his anger and disappointment, even if it meant pushing you away.

You gently took hold of Rusty's wrist, feeling the warmth of his skin against your fingertips. As you pulled his wrist closer, he inhaled deeply, allowing you to press a delicate kiss against his arm. The softness of your lips against his skin felt like a fleeting touch of affection, but it didn't seem to break through the wall he had built around himself.

You continued to roll up Rusty's sleeve, hoping that your gestures would encourage him to open up and share what was troubling him. But, despite your efforts, he remained silent, refusing to speak to you. His eyes avoided your gaze, as if he couldn't bring himself to face you, and your heart sank at the sight.

Feeling a mixture of confusion, frustration, and sadness, you slowly let go of his hand, your fingertips grazing against his skin one last time. Desperately wanting to understand, you looked down, your voice barely above a whisper as you uttered the words, "I'm sorry."

Rusty's head turned slowly, his eyes meeting yours before quickly averting his gaze towards the road ahead. The weight of the unspoken apology hung heavy in the air, intensifying the suffocating silence that enveloped the two of you in the truck. It felt as if silence itself had turned into sharp knives, slashing through the remnants of your shattered relationship.

You yearned for him to react, to show some kind of emotion. Anger, frustration, disappointment… anything would have been better than this cold indifference. The fact that he was shutting you out hurt you deeply, adding to the pain of watching him ruthlessly take the lives of your friends. It was an odd paradox, seeing the man who caused so much destruction and chaos become the source of your sadness and confusion.

Tears welled up in your eyes, obscuring your vision as a muffled sob escaped your lips. Feeling defeated and emotionally overwhelmed, you turned away, hoping to seek solace in the cramped sleeping area of the truck. But just as you attempted to retreat, something unexpectedly held you back. Your head instinctively turned, finding Rusty's hand wrapped tightly around your wrist. Confusion swirled within you, conflicting emotions clouding your mind.

As you opened your mouth to question his actions, Rusty swiftly reached beside him, retrieving a bag. His grip loosened on your wrist, and he placed the bag into your trembling hand. The scent that wafted from the bag invaded your nostrils, instantly recognizable and nostalgic. It smelled like a cheeseburger, just like the ones he used to bring home for you after long trips away. It was a tender gesture, a reminder of the intimacy you once shared.

"Take that and get back in the sleeper now," Rusty softly instructed, his voice carrying a hint of concern. His eyes locked onto yours for a brief moment, flickering with a mixture of remorse and something else, something you couldn't quite decipher.

As you opened up the bag, your eyes widened at the sight before you. It was more food than you could possibly consume on your own. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you realized that some of the food in the bag actually belonged to Rusty, your significant other. Despite the ongoing disagreement between the two of you, you couldn't bring yourself to take his share of the food too. You believed he still deserved to eat and be taken care of, even amidst the tension between you both.

Staring at the assortment of delicious treats and meals, you couldn't help but feel a heavy wave of concern wash over you. The situation between you and Rusty may have been tough recently, but you didn't want it to escalate to the point where his basic needs were unmet. You took a deep breath, mustering the courage to talk to him about it.

Turning your gaze towards Rusty, who was engrossed in driving, you sighed softly to grab his attention. "Rusty," you said, your voice filled with a mix of hesitation and compassion, "I can't eat all of this… What about you?"

Rusty was back to his usual self, ignoring your presence as if you were a mere inconvenience. It was not unusual for him to give you curt orders, Despite his instruction to grab the bag of food and head to the sleeper of the truck, something within you screamed that this was not right.

You licked your lips nervously, contemplating your next move. As you reached into the bag, your fingers grazed a familiar shape. It was the bottle of soda that Rusty always got for you along with the meal. It was your special treat. Without thinking, you stood up from the floor of the truck, you cautiously made your way over to Rusty's seat and you sat down on his lap and got comfortable, ensuring you were not in his way. His furrowed eyebrows betrayed his annoyance as he glanced down at you, momentarily distracted from the road. His voice was sharp with irritation as he barked, "I said to get in the fucking sleeper! What are you doing, damn it?"

Silently, you continued to ignore his questions and disapproval. There was something you needed to do, something that went beyond his commands. Ignoring the questioning gaze in Rusty's eyes, you reached into the bag once again, this time pulling out a single French fry.

Holding it out in front of Rusty's mouth, you offered it to him, a sense of determination in your voice as you softly uttered, "Eat it."

The air in the truck became heavy with expectation, both of you locked in a quiet standoff. Rusty's stern expression softened, his features softened for a mere moment, before quickly returning to his usual hardened state.

With a grin, you tapped the french fry against his lips, making a radio crackle sound. "This is (Y/N). The french fry is ready to launch off. Open your mouth, please?"

Rusty's lips quivered slightly, a hint of a smirk threatening to break through his stern facade. He wasn't sure why this simple act of trying to get him to eat the fry was melting his heart, but he couldn't deny the adorable playfulness radiating from you.

You couldn't resist teasing him as he stubbornly refused to eat the delicious meal in front of him. With a mischievous grin, you got more comfortable on his lap, playfully taunting him.

You reached into the bag and pulled out another French fry, holding it up like a puppet as you used a disguised voice. "You know what I think?" you said, trying not to burst into laughter. Rusty turned his head, giving you a quick glance before focusing back on the road. Intrigued, he awaited your next words.

"Why I don't know fry number two what?" you continued, your voice masking the amusement bubbling inside you. "I think Rusty wants to bite me and eat me, but he's being an ass right now. A stubborn ass!" you exclaimed, giggling.

Rusty couldn't help but roll his eyes at your playful banter. However, a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he finally relented. Opening his mouth, he took a bite of the French fry, much to your amusement. Determined to push the limits of your teasing, you snatched a straw out of the bag.

You deftly opened the bottle of soda and slid the straw in, watching Rusty chew the fry. With mischievous intent, you raised the straw up and said, "Now suck it." Rusty's brows furrowed as he looked at you, taken aback by your audacity. There was a brief silence but he couldn't help but crack a small smile.

As you smiled back at Rusty, his focus shifted from your face to the road ahead. You couldn't help but notice his intense concentration, but you were determined to bring his attention back to the delicious food in your hand. With a playful grin, you reached into the bag and grabbed another french fry, waving it enticingly in front of him.

"Now would you like a bite of your cheeseburger or another french fry, Rusty?" you asked teasingly, knowing how much he loved both.

Before he could even respond, you interrupted yourself with a mischievous chuckle. "Well actually, you'll want to take a bite of this cheeseburger, of course. It's got all the vitamins that a big boy like you needs," you commented, listing off each ingredient with exaggerated enthusiasm. "There's the juicy burger, crispy bacon, melted cheese, tangy onions, and those perfectly pickled slices."

A small wrinkle formed between Rusty's brows as he tried to resist your tempting offer. But you were determined to cater to his needs and couldn't bear to see him resist the mouthwatering meal any longer.

"Pu-pull this goddamn truck over, Rusty!" you exclaimed, your voice filled with a mix of frustration and playfulness. "So you can eat, damn it! I don't care if you have a deadline for this stupid haul to keep up with. Your appetite comes first!"

As if the urgency in your voice and energetic bouncing on his lap weren't enough, you hoped your slight agitation would finally convince him to give in. Rusty's eyes widened at the sight of your determination, and a small grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Rusty Nail had pulled the truck over to the side of the road, the engine coming to a halt. The two of you were alone in the silence, and he turned his attention towards you, his hands dropping to your waist. He held onto you firmly, his grip indicating a mixture of frustration and affection. "Alright, happy now?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of irritation.

You smiled mischievously, reaching into the bag that you had brought along. Your fingers fumbled for a moment, searching for the right item. Finally, you pulled out a cheeseburger, making sure it was the one without jalapenos. You knew Rusty didn't particularly like them, but you always had them added to yours because of your love for spicy food. It was just another one of those little compromises you made as a couple. Double-checking to ensure it was jalapeno-free, you brought it up to his mouth, offering him a bite.

Rusty opened his mouth obediently, ready to taste the burger you offered. As he took a bite, his eyes met yours, and you couldn't help but watch his reaction. It was fascinating to witness even the simple act of eating, especially when it involved someone you cared about. Rusty chewed slowly, savoring each morsel while maintaining eye contact with you. The intensity in his gaze made your heart skip a beat.

After a moment, you cleared your throat, breaking the spell. "Are we good now?" you inquired, wanting to confirm that the tension between you had dissipated.

Rusty paused, swallowing his food before pressing his lips against the straw of the soda bottle and taking a sip. He didn't break his eye contact with you, keeping his attention solely on your face. It was as if he was searching for something, analyzing your every move and word.

A mischievous smirk graced your lips as you observed his reaction. "Sucking while keeping eye contact, huh? That's a good sign," you commented playfully, noting the double entendre of your words.

Rusty's eyes narrowed slightly as he continued to stare at you. His curiosity was piqued as you raised a single finger, bringing it closer to him. Unsure of what you were up to, he raised an eyebrow, silently questioning your intentions.

Without further ado, you booped him in the nose, a soft giggle escaping your lips. "Boop," you pronounced aloud, unable to contain your amusement.

Rusty blinked, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected action. A slow smile spread across his face, his expression softening. "You're such a dork," he said, his voice laced with affection.

#joy ride #rusty nail #rusty nail x reader

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no-psi-nan · 3 months

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[Context]

Ok @fluffydice, sorry for the lateness on this one but as anyone following this blog for over 5 minutes probably knows, I think Aiura x Saiki x Akechi makes so much sense and it is insanely compelling to me. I've posted so much fanfic about it already and that's only like 20% of the Thoughts™ I've had about them tbh.

But when you're doing an analysis of a triad, you have to breakdown 3 different ships and also how they would work simultaneously, so I needed time to write it all up. Buckle in!

Let's talk about Saiki x Aiura first since they had the most screen time together and they're the most "canon". I was genuinely shocked to see how rare this pairing is in fandom when they're literally canonically soulmates and also actually prove it on their every interaction.

From their very first meeting, Aiura and Saiki work together flawlessly to save Yumehara's life many times in a row + the life of the truck driver. Aiura then figures out how to hang out with Saiki without having to deal with his tsundere rejection, which he can leave at any time (unlike with Teruhashi) because she knows about his powers and won't stir up trouble if he leaves. Saiki keeps allowing her to schedule 1:1 dates and is basically like "don't bother asking me, you know I'll go" about the dessert buffet date lol.

Even when they disagree and neither of them will back down, they still work wonderfully together and they both end up learning and growing from it. Saiki trusts Aiura to help him, and Aiura always agrees to help him just because she cares. That's HUGE considering how hard it is for Saiki to ask for literally anything!!

Aiura also respects Saiki's boundaries more than anyone else imo. She only joins him when he's out in public, she tries her usual heavy-handed flirting at first but quickly adjusts when she realizes he's not into it, she puts her clothes back on immediately after realizing that she misunderstood the situation, she starts asking him out instead of just joining him, she asks for a kiss and respects his "no", and she hugs him anyways because they both really need it after the stress of the day.

And Saiki responds to that, opening up more with Aiura than he has with anyone else in way less time. Aiura had under 2 years with Saiki while Saiki's core friend group had like 6 years, and yeah, she benefited some from his character growth over the past 4 years. But still, the way he banters with her shows how comfortable he is– he's more open with her than with anybody else, and not just with his annoyance like he is with Toritsuka lmao.

Also, come ON, there's just no one more deserving of an epic husband/wife local god with transformation powers than Aiura. She works so hard with her powers to help everyone and convinces Saiki to help others more and she helps him get the best outcomes for everyone. Let her get her hands on her soulmate who can make her bi dreams come true, who can give her third eye a break from constantly seeing auras and death marks, who can grow big fluffy wings to hug her with, etc etc etc!!!!! LET HER HAVE SOME FUN FFS!!

There's wayyyy more people forcing Aiura into the platonic bucket with Saiki than I've seen with Teruhashi (even though Aiura has way better chemistry with Saiki), which forces me to wonder whether it's because Aiura is more overtly sexual and "lowbrow" than Teruhashi, showing more cleavage, getting bad grades, putting stickers on her face because they're cute, showing pride in her sexual escapades. None of those make her a bad person, but a lot of people seem to think it does.

Some people more reasonably point out that if Saiki is very asexual and Aiura has a high libido then that could cause trouble for them. Well, first of all, while Saiki is pretty much obviously somewhere in the asexual and aromantic spectrum, his belief that boyfriend is the next level after best friend shows that demiromantic / demisexual is a strong possibility for him. And honestly I'd argue that whatever he has going on with Satou is at least partially sexual, though I'm not going to get into that in this already long-ass post lol.

But basically, I think there's a lot of room for a demiromantic and graysexual interpretation of Saiki and considering that Aiura has apparently stopped going out with other men for at least 2 years with no ill effects that we can see, it's quite possible that they'll be very compatible in bed after all. And if not, that's where consensual non-monogamy comes in lol. But genuinely I think that the fact that they're soulmates means that there probably aren't any major incompatibilities between them, otherwise the term would be meaningless.

So yeah, makes sense and really compelling because there's so much room for stories on how they actually got together, how they work together as their powers continue growing, and what their future looks like!

OKAY, now it's time for the Saikechi essay lol.

Actually, I don't think Saikechi needs a ton of justification, because it's kinda standard extrovert x introvert childhood friends to lovers lol. Saikechi only isn't more popular because Akechi appears for like 5 whole minutes in the undubbed second season of the anime and he was annoying for 90% of that time hsfjdlshfks rip.

But yeah, Akechi and Saiki are quite perfect together, as shown by the horse gambling episode. Akechi can see right through Saiki's tsundere facade and Akechi is extremely open about his wants and needs, which is important since Saiki can't properly understand his thoughts most of the time and is very bad at figuring that stuff out even with telepathy.

They're both some flavor of ace. Akechi offu's at Teruhashi and comments that she's the most beautiful women he's ever seen, but does not express wanting to date her, which is big ace vibes, plus he's one of the few characters that doesn't have anything to say about Aiura's boobs lol (even Teruhashi can't shut up about them). They're also similar flavors of highly intelligent + neurodivergent. Consider Akechi's analysis skills vs Saiki's ability to come up with dozens, if not hundreds of plans in extremely short notice.

Akechi is also great at making accommodations for Saiki's powers, even without knowing about all of them, and coming up with activities they can do together that will be equally fun and challenging for both of them! And I still love that it was Akechi showing Saiki what a fun low-stakes game can be like that basically repaired Kusuo's relationship with his brother (see: manga, as this was cut from the anime 😩).

It's a very nice and straightforward ship that still leaves a lot of room for fun stories. I've been dying to write a Saikechi frogboil (plotted but needs writing) just because Akechi would be so perfect at it and he would be very likely to approach Saiki that way to get around all the tsundere bullshit lol.

OKAY, now for the third leg of the triangle lol, Aiura and Akechi!!

(couldn't find an anime gif of this moment which is SO SAD)

Let's be real, Akechi and Aiura only share 5 moments on screen: the intro with all the chibis, when Aiura checks out his aura, when Aiura & Toritsuka kidnap him, the competition to find Saiki's hanky, and Akechi pestering Aiura about dress code violations in the every-character-appears episode. And 3 of those scenes are from the same chapter lmao.

Actually I think this ⬆️ scene is kinda cute because Akechi's teasing Aiura lol, I think he's being friendly in his little freak way <3

HOWEVER, if shipping was only about what we saw on screen, then it would be way more boring. So let's think about it!

Aiura and Akechi actually share a lot of similarities: they're both extroverts, they're both incomprehensible, they are both almost immune to lies, they have both have a drive to help other people including strangers, and they're both seeking someone who will love and understand them as they are.

They would just make a really great fit! Akechi could help with Aiura's fortune-telling by prompting better questions for her to ask, and Aiura might actually make Akechi's mystery-solving TOO easy, so she probably holds back on that one lol. Akechi would throw himself wholeheartedly into working against a death mark on a stranger.

They're so fun to think about too because neither of them is embarrassed easily at all and they're both completely in touch with their own feelings so they are going to be SO lovey-dovey, no matter how cringe it seems on the outside lmao.

Akechi seems like he'd love doing traditional courtship if given half the chance, and Aiura seems like she's mostly had one-night-stand kind of situations until now, so what a perfect opportunity to indulge! What a change for Aiura to date someone who respects her and isn't just after her body! What a change for Akechi to date someone who actually wants to hear what he has to say and isn't put off by his frankness around taboo topics!

They'd pick up phrases from each other and develop so many ridiculous in-jokes that become their own sort of language, which makes them both even more incomprehensible.

We do also run into the allosexual x asexual problem here but Akechi is so unbothered by bodily functions and so quick to find compromises and enrichment that I genuinely think he'd kind of turn that into a game lmao.

And I think Akechi would be down to start a family and give his kid(s) the kind of loving home he never really got to enjoy with his parents' ongoing domestic turmoil. And their kid(s) would be sooooooooo incomprehensible, bless. 🙏🏾 Raised by 1.5 psychic parents and sprinkling both terminally online lingo and academia-level terminology into their speech from day 1. Imagine...

So Aikechi definitely gets the A+ on making sense and being compelling here!

Which FINALLY brings us back around to the main question... Does Aiura x Saiki x Akechi make sense, and is it compelling?

Well, obviously I think so, since I've posted so much about it lol.

I think the main question for the viability of this ship is whether Saiki would be comfortable with polyamory, since Aiura and Akechi are unconcerned enough with social norms that they'd probably have no problem with it.

After some time getting used to the thought that he will never have the veneer of normal he's always wanted to project and that the pleasures of living authentically far outweigh the pains of being different, I think Saiki would actually love having his best friends as lovers and not having to choose only one person.

After all, most of his struggle is about lack of connection and his alienation from humanity. Well, here are Akechi and Aiura, who respectively mirror his lonely childhood and growing up with uncontrollable powers. They're both clever enough to see through his tsundere bullshit, they're both happy and able to help him with his powers & duties to save others, and they will both stand up to him if he's wrong or letting something slide to avoid conflict.

They're both perfect for him! And Akechi and Aiura would be much happier sharing him than trying to make him choose between them since they also get along so well. And let's be real, Saiki definitely deserves to be loved by the two people who know him the best. 💜

There's also a lot of story potential for how this ends up happening. In Extra Love Stories of Psychics, Saikechi and Saiura are basically happening in parallel and the Aikechi will close in the loop in a few chapters. But in Didn't see this one coming, I wanted to focus on Aikechi, so they get together and are basically ready for Saiki to finish his character growth and join whenever lmao.

You could also have them as like a hero team of lovers if you want more action-y plots, though tbh it's really hard to come up with situations they wouldn't immediately solve lol rip.

Another nice thing about Aiura, Akechi and Saiki being together is that Aiura and Akechi get a chance to help each other overcome some of Saiki's limitations, and the stuff they can't work around, Akechi and Aiura can do together.

An easy example is hand-holding. Changing Saiki's gloves to another texture is all well and good but sometimes you want to touch skin to skin, and it's much more overwhelming than calming for Saiki to do that. Akechi and Aiura can hold each other's hands without gloves though, and while it's not the same as holding Saiki's, it helps a lot to fulfill that desire.

Also, it's almost impossible for Aiura to surprise Saiki because he can read her thoughts, but while Akechi can probably figure out that she's planning something in general, she would have a much easier time surprising him. And similarly, since Saiki can't properly read Akechi's mind and doesn't have too much emotional intelligence, Akechi has to openly communicate his needs with Saiki all the time, which isn't a problem for him. But it's really nice when Aiura can tell from his aura or from her own emotional intelligence what Akechi wants/needs without having to explain himself. And even if Saiki can literally hear Aiura's thoughts, Akechi is still better at responding to her feelings because he's not tsundere and he actually understands feelings and what to do about them.

Additionally, Aiura has said she wants to be a mother, and while Saiki's affection for kids indicates to me that he wouldn't mind having kids, I think that he would be VERY opposed to passing on his genes due to how much trouble his powers have caused him. And Aiura's genes also are probably loaded with psychic powers! But if Akechi is there, then he can knock up Aiura no problem since he doesn't seem to have any psychic powers, and then the three of them can have their own family <3 Plus all the shenanigans that comes with having 2.5 psychics (and maybe more!) under one roof!

In conclusion, they're perfect, your honor!!

Also I probably should've been writing more fic of them instead of writing this novel XD XD

Thanks for the ask!!

#notes to nopsi #saiki k #saiki no psi nan #sknpn #the disastrous life of saiki k.#tdlosk #nopsi meta #akechi touma #aiura mikoto #saiki kusuo #saiura #saiki x aiura #mikosai #saikechi #saiki x akechi #aikechi #Aiura x Akechi #sense & compel meme

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thebestbooksaround · 1 year

Note

Can you suggest some of your favourite buck breakdown fics?

Ooooo, yes of course!

Tick Tick Boom by ChasetheWindTouchtheSky (@chase-the-windandtouch-the-sky)

30k | Teen

“Did you know if you put a frog in water and slowly bring it to boiling, it won’t hop out?” Chris is chattering as Buck makes a quick dinner while Eddie argues with his gas company on the phone. He can hear the occasional swear word in Spanish as his voice raises. Eddie doesn’t like to raise his voice around Christopher – the very thought makes Buck want to kiss him full on the mouth – so he decided to take it to the living room while Chris sits with his homework in the kitchen and Buck cooks.

“Hmm?” Buck asks, unable to fully pull himself out of Bobby’s baked mac and cheese recipe. It took him years, but he finally convinced the man to write it down. Bobby’s handwriting was juvenile at best on a good day, but this was nearly unreadable. Buck wonders if he did that on purpose. “Frogs?”

“Yeah!” Chris states. “My teacher said that if you put a frog in a pot, you have to make sure it’s not immediately boiling. You put them in water and then slowly raise the temperature and they won’t realize what’s happening. Then once they realize, they have no place to go. They can’t jump out.”

S6 Spec: Buck decides he doesn’t need therapy, reverts to some bad habits, and explodes. Or, the Breakdown Fic

bro·ken by kristen999 (@thekristen999)

32k | Mature

bro·ken

adjective

1. having been fractured or damaged and no longer in one piece or in working order.

2. having given up all hope; despairing.

Forced to take shady side jobs to pay his bills, Evan Buckley doesn’t think he’s ever seen such rock bottom. Until he meets Eddie Diaz, a man even more desperate and alone. Season 3 AU

crashing, i'm crashing right into you by himbobuckley (@bumble-of-the-bee)

6k | Teen

Buck gets an unfortunate call while driving and spirals before getting hit by a drunk driver. Surprise, coma!buck is real and can hear the things people (Eddie and Maddie) say while he's unconscious. Follows the struggles Buck deals with while trying to come back and the ones he has to face if he does.

6.07 spec, so the sperm donor issue is a Thing.

shelter my eyes from the sun (and wait for the birds to fly by) by lizzybizzyzzz (@lizzybizzyzzz)

25k | Mature

There’s always been a lingering precedent- Buck was born to save, born to die trying to at the very least. Buck couldn’t save Daniel, could barely save Chris, dragged Eddie across hot pavement under a burning fire truck, couldn't save his sister or his parents from the lifelong heartbreak of losing a child.

Buck was born to save. He’s just not too good at much else.

blue skies by spaceprincessem (@spaceprincessem)

36k | Teen

“Most babies are born as accidents,” She says suddenly, like she’s decided that Buck has passed, that she can trust him with this.

Buck doesn’t really have an answer because that question hits way to fucking close to home. A year or so ago he would have said, yes, I was an accident, so I know how that goes, but Buck knows better now. Knows that he would almost give anything for that answer to still be yes. Evie’s finger works under the seal to rip it open, a stack of important looking papers dumping out onto the table in front of her.

“Not me,” she says without looking up as she organizes them into a neat stack, “I was engineered.”

And.

And Buck’s pretty fucking sure a giant, cataclysmic hole has ripped right open, dragging him down to the earth’s core where he vaporizes into dust.

a leaf falls on loneliness by iimpossible_things

11k | Not Rated

Buck doesn’t think that if he were to say, “I’m in a bad place”, that anyone would turn him away. Really, he doesn’t. The 118 has too many good, kind people for that.

But every time he wants to open his mouth, to say something, to reach out to Eddie or Bobby or Hen or Chim, he hears Eddie yelling, “you’re exhausting.”

—you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting—

So each day he does his job and he laughs and he jokes and he pretends he’s the care-free goofball he’s always been. And each day he packs away his bruises and his worries, takes them home to his empty loft with its quiet rooms, and licks his wounds in silence

this is me trying (at least i'm trying) by screaminghalfpastmidnight (@screaminghalfpastmidnight)

15k | Teen

Buck nods against his pillow, remaining silent before Eddie whispers, “Do I have to be worried about you?”

“No.” Buck mumbles. “I’ll be back at work on Thursday. I just needed a day.”

“Do you promise?” Eddie says, and Buck knows he’s not referring to his comment about work.

“Promise.” You don’t have to be worried about me.

burn the straw house down by rarakiplin (@hoediaz)

40k | Mature

“Why the fuck are you even in this loop? This day isn’t about you.”

“Well, I die,” Eddie comments idly, not sounding as offended as he maybe should be. “Haven’t you heard? I’m always dying.”

“That’s not funny.”

Eddie shrugs, not really agreeing or disagreeing. It’s a few seconds before he says, eyes still closed, “Maybe I’m here so you’re not alone.”

or, buck gets stuck in time, has a break down and then, relatedly, a break through

#Fics I love #Buddie #Eddie Diaz #Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley #Evan Buckley #911onfox #911 fan fiction #buddiefanfiction #buddie fic #911 #911 fox #breakdown buck #tb2a answers

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sexhaver · 11 months

Note

How do we feel about drivers who maintain the speed limit while driving the left lane, while on four lane roads. Because only two weeks ago I got ticketed for doing 40 in a 30 to get around an Amazon delivery truck parked in the street/road/whatever, and now I feel too pussy to push my luck at speeding, at least during the near future. But I also don't want to piss someone off who might be unhinged enough to ram the rear of my car.

in general, if you are doing the speed limit, stay out of the left lane as much as possible. the way you avoid pissing people off and getting rearended is actually extremely simple and was taught to me as a core component of driver's ed in Texas because Altimas with paper dealership tags and lifted F350s both make up a large chunk of traffic and have death wishes. here's the trick: when you're in the left lane, check your rearview mirror every so often and take note of the car behind you, specifically how fast it's approaching. if they're gaining on you, either speed up until they aren't or temporarily duck out into the lane to your right at the soonest opportunity. the faster car behind you will pass you without having to weave in and out of lanes, and you get to avoid having someone who hates you ride your bumper for a few miles. if you do this often enough you get into Heaven when you die. also whichever cop ticketed you for doing 40 in a 30 was probably trying to hit a quota

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bodybeyondstories · 2 months

Text

Just ignore it - 6

After things get heated, David finds himself back at the gas station. Then again. And again.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 (Previous)

Male TF // Dick Growth // Growth // Butt Growth // nsfw

This is sort of a non-conclusion to this story arc with a weird idea that I had that I wasn't sure how to execute well (the usual lol). Had a lot of fun with this series, lot of threads yet to play with, eventually, maybe...

---

“That you?”

The Mystery Machine. Lee lazily scrounging around in the bag of cheese puffs. The gas station attendant power walking away, bubble butt jiggling uncontrollably. Me sitting in the passenger seat, staring into space. And not unleashing a higher dimensional being through some magic portal and eating out a giant-size Blake.

I had never had a dream that vivid. He had grown to monstrous proportions, I was awash in his thick musk, his deep, almost subsonic groans shaking me to my core, body lengthening and muscles inflating, his ass like two planets trying to fill up the entire dome–

“We’ll assume yes,” said Lee. “Looks like he didn’t see that coming,” he continued, long fingers reaching into the bag.

“Be careful with those, I heard they go straight to your…” I’ve said this before.

“Ass? Allegedly,” Lee chuckled. “Apparently dudes mix these into their protein shakes on leg day or crush them and down entire family size bags on a dare or whatever and see what happens. It’s an urban legend, but I guess urban legends keep us employed. We’ll have to look into it right after all the other magical calamities spawning off around you.” He gave a cheese dusted smile, leaning lazily over the window, reaching back to adjust the seat of his pants.

Armand plopped himself back into the driver's seat and grabbed the aux cord, began scrolling through podcasts as he started the van. “There’s a great episode I think we should listen to, it’s on…let me find it…”

“Spectral informatics?” I offered, confused as to how I’d come up with that.

“Yeah! I didn’t know you were a fan,” said Armand, excitedly snatching a few cheese puffs from the bag. I squirreled it away before we had to deal with any further snack-based complications.

“Um, sure,” I said, as we pulled off onto the road.

It was actually a pretty interesting episode, and settled into the background of the muted scenery rolling by. Lee was asking lazy but helpful questions in the back, and before I knew it we were engaged in a deep side conversation that complemented the soft radio voices of the podcast hosts. Armand seemed genuinely pleased. This was maybe the longest actual discussion I’d had with him. I was present in a way that the right jolt of caffeine makes the world feel crisp and new.

Because Synt wasn’t there.

I don’t know why it had taken me this long to realize, but Synt’s overbearing metaphysical residence in my mind was nowhere to be found. It was like a weight had been lifted, but I felt the absence of agonistic tension that I had gotten so used to. I involuntarily reached out for that itch of power and possibility, the wild tangle of transdimensional multisensory perception and found only the walls of my own psyche. What happened? I thought, with growing suspicion. Where had they gone?

As county roads turned to back roads and we passed the vine covered “Marshlands State Park” sign, the trees in the landscape seemed to stretch up and yawn in the breeze. I felt small among this ancient, imperceptible community, had the feeling of a convening that I had once been privy to but was no longer. I had a brief impression of a figure strolling through the forest, towering over us as they stretched with them, like an overexposure or an afterimage. Here and then gone.

The episode was wrapping up as the van turned off the small forest road onto a poorly maintained gravel path that led to a patch of dirt currently occupied by a shiny new park ranger truck. Armand pulled up next to it as Lee and I scanned the area for our collaborators, seeing only a path through the trees that led down to an expanse of shallow water. As I stepped out of the van, a shiver went down my spine. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d been there before. Not just in this landscape, but this exact point in space and time.

“What’s up?” asked Lee, as he emerged and let his hand briefly scratch my lower back.

“Nothing,” I answered. “Just…deja vu.”

“Happens out here a lot,” came a voice from nowhere.

It felt like I had perceived Blake speaking before registering him as a physical presence making sound. I turned to see him walking up toward us and couldn’t look away. He looked…big. Not just bigger since the last time we met, which for some reason didn’t come as a surprise. The hems of his sleeves fraying at the edges against his biceps, the small tears along the sides of his quads, his shirt fully unbuttoned to reveal a shelf of pectorals that seemed to fill any available space, the sides of his glutes visible from the front. That I had seen coming.

But there was something else that I couldn’t quite pinpoint. He looked at me briefly as if picking up on the force of my attention, moved as if to say something, then quickly turned away, lips pursed in concentration as he continued to unload gear from the truck bed and waddle back down the path.

“He is getting bigger,” came another voice suddenly in our vicinity.

“How are you both so good at that?” asked Lee, turning to see Logan walking up.

“I actually needed to talk to you about–”

“And what’s with the waders?”

“Oh. I, well–”

“Only thing that fits?” offered Armand with uncharacteristic sincerity.

“No, well yeah, well they’re–”

“Airboat,” I said, unaware of how I knew that beyond a crisp image in my head of the five of us gliding across the water. “Blake’s piloting an airboat.”

“I’m piloting a–yeah,” said Blake, emerging from the path. “Water’s still high, so the island is still an island.” He gazed off, staring intently at the cluster of trees in the distance as the rest of us began hauling stuff onto the Swamp Hag.

Under the roar of the propeller, we cruised over golden brown fields of late season wetland grasses, and there it was again. The feeling that this configuration of people, in this airboat, moving through this scene was a repetition with a slight difference. I had the sudden image of a massive eye on the landscape, energy crackling, something coming through. I looked up to see Blake behind and above us in the pilot seat, eyes locked intently ahead towards our destination, left hand nimbly controlling the rudder stick.

I couldn’t tell if it was just my imagination, but his pipe in his shorts seemed to creep slowly down his left leg, leaving dark spots of precum and even pulsing with an occasional lurch further and increase in girth. With his meaty quads looking ready to burst through his pants, he looked like, felt like, a concentration of size and weight. I let my mind wander, imagining what would happen if that prodigious bulge–

One side of his face scrunched in a grimace of concentration, his eyes briefly making contact with mine, a fleeting look of warning–or pleading–before returning to the task at hand.

As we landed on the island, Blake looked stressed, almost flighty, as he lifted the apparatus with the artifact with ease and started following the winding trail towards the center. I followed him along the vein of the iris of this landscape-scale eye as the others got their bearings. He was difficult to keep up with, his tree trunk thighs pumping powerfully as they moved around each other, his form giving the impression of an elephant about to clear a forest path.

“This site feels pretty weird, right?” I said, thinking of his earlier comment about deja vu.

He whipped around in surprise upon hearing my voice. Thrown off balance by the apparatus sitting on one shoulder, he grabbed one of the nearby trees and crushed half the trunk in his hand. He stammered for words as the unsuspecting cypress continued to crack, tipping away from the path and falling into the surrounding woods, leaving a gap of heavy silence.

“I, um, didn’t see you there…” he muttered, his eyes straining under droplets of sweat across his brow.

“Let’s deal with that later,” I said with a helpful smile as I heard the others catching up in the distance.

—

“This is where you found it?” asked Armand, eyes scanning the uncannily circular clearing. “It looks untouched.”

“It’s where it found us,” Blake quipped, his voice level. “And yeah, it just sort of appeared. Right there in the middle.”

That feeling again. I felt with ghostly certainty that I had been there. That I had never left. That I was standing here across an unknowable set of timeframes converging on this temporal point. Beneath that, I felt something deep and subsonic, something I hadn’t picked up on since I was an unsuspecting subject of one of Synt’s energetic outbursts. I could feel an energy seeping into local space, something crescendoing to some sort of threshold, before–

I snapped back to reality. While Armand and Lee had set to work setting up a makeshift cleanroom, Blake had opened the apparatus to remove the artifact and move it to the center of the clearing, complex linework of lavender and gold forming and reforming across its surface. As he let his hands slip away, it remained stationary, rotating slowly in the air.

“Now that’s cool,” I said, walking up to it, entranced. Its motion was flawless, like it wasn’t so much moving of its own accord but the rest of the world was rotating around it. Like if I stopped it with my hand, the celestial motion of the solar system might gracefully fall apart.

Blake, possibly with a similar idea, lifted a finger and brought it to the surface.

“Wait,” I warned, apprehensive but unclear as to exactly why. “Maybe don’t–”

In a fraction of a second, the curls, diagrams, and fractals covering the sphere converged around Blake’s fingertip in a multicolored spiral and sent a jolt of electricity across the short distance.

“Are you okay?” I asked, as Blake winced, bracing his palms against his forehead.

“I…can’t…”

“Remember what we practiced,” said Logan, looking at him with intention.

“What do you mean what you practiced?” I asked.

Before he could answer, a pulse of iridescent energy shot out from the artifact, passing through us and stopping a few feet before the perimeter, forming a dome that resembled a giant soap bubble.

“Oh, hmm,” said Lee, lightly touching the whirls of energy a few feet in front of him as Armand scrambled to adjust their instrumentation. “It’s like a, um–”

“Forcefield,” I said with acute certainty. “It’s a forcefield. I’ve…seen this before. Where have I seen this before?”

“Take a wild guess,” Blake eked through what looked like a head-splitting migraine.

“We’ve been debating whether we should mention…” said Logan.

“Mention what?” I cut in. “And Blake, really, are you okay?”

“It’s Synt,” said Logan. “They took up residence in Blake’s head. I’ve been trying to guide him through it.”

Ah, fuck. Well that explains that.

“Ah, fuck. He’s not trained for this. Blake, you’re not trained for this.”

“I…realize…” muttered Blake, carefully delivering each word, “...that now.” He grimaced, doubling over in pain and intense concentration, actively trying to hold himself together, every vein and sinew along his over muscled body seeming to glow with ethereal light.

“You got this,” coached Logan, moving closer toward him. “Just breathe.” He reached out a hand to steady Blake as he stumbled again.

“No, wait!” I yelled, knowing exactly what was about to happen.

But it was too late. Logan caught Blake’s meaty forearm and was thrown into a full body spasm, every muscle pumping slowly with the power flooding into him. But there was one in particular that was thrown into hyperdrive, the bulge in his waders inflating to even wilder proportions, and showing no sign of slowing down. He managed to let go of Blake’s arm, gasping for breath through beads of sweat.

“You guys alright?” asked Lee. “Looks like it’s gettin’ pretty weird in there.”

“Really incredible readings, though,” added Armand. “You’ve gotta see this.”

“Maybe not the time, dude,” I said, more concerned about Logan’s exhausted whimpers. “You doing okay?”

“It’s not…” Logan looked at me in terror. “It’s not stopping. I–augghhh…” The straps of his waders finally gave up, snapping off his corded shoulders as the mass in his crotch continued to expand. He fell onto his butt, frantically peeling what was left of the fabric off, enjoying a moment of relief as the beast inside was finally freed, before his precum-smothered cockhead landed solidly on his face, covering his entire head and continuing to grow along the ground, before lifting itself, miraculously, into the air. His shaft was thicker than his waist and showed no signs of lessening as his mega dick began to approach at 90 degree angle, swaying gently as it continued to pulse and lurch with mass.

With his legs pushed apart by his beach ball sized nuts, Logan was rendered immobile, powerless to do anything except lose himself in a deluge of orgasmic bliss, his face a contortion of pleasure and panic. As it touched the upper edge of the dome, it stopped, crackling against the force field, allowing Logan to briefly return to lucidity.

“This feels…unbelievable,” he whispered as I approached, hypnotized by the tower of cock before me. I could barely wrap my body around it, pushing myself into the intense heat of his flesh, quickly covered by the constant stream of precum gushing from the tip that was at least 15 feet in the air, pressed against the dome. Whatever I was doing, he seemed to be enjoying it, his breathing quickening as his massive balls contracted and his cock pulsed with additional girth, shoving my arms apart, patterns of fractal static appearing across the force field as his unbelievable trunk pushed angrily against it, cracks appearing and deepening in the framework as it finally pushed through, shattering the bubble into a multitude of iridescent shards.

And then–

—

“That you?” asked Lee.

The Mystery Machine. Lee lazily scrounging around in the bag of cheese puffs. The gas station attendant power walking away, bubble butt jiggling uncontrollably. Me sitting in the passenger seat, staring into space. And not using my entire body to jerk off the monolith of cock attached to Logan.

Ah, I thought, my face scrunching in annoyance. A time loop.

“We’ll assume yes,” he continued. “Looks–”

“Like he didn’t see that coming,” I finished. I looked at him standing in the car window, pausing in surprise with cheese puffs halfway to his mouth. “It’s a time loop.”

His eyes widened in thought for a weighty few seconds, twitching back and forth as if doing quick calculations in the air between us, brows furrowed in concentration.

“Well that’s fun,” Lee said, returning to nonchalant snacking. “How many iterations?”

“I think this is the third.”

“Oh that’s fine. Time loop protocol doesn't start until at least the fifth or sixth.”

“Well I don’t feel like waiting that long.”

“Waiting for what?” asked Armand, hopping back into the driver's seat. “By the way, is there a new style I’m not aware of or was that you’re handiwork with the station attendant? It’s less than professional is all I’m saying.”

“Dave’s stuck in a time loop,” said Lee.

“Of course,” groaned Armand, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Time loops are so much paperwork. How many iterations?”

“This is probably the third,” I offered. “At least the third.”

“Last update on time loop protocol says to wait until the sixth.”

“See that’s what I said,” Lee interjected, easing into the back seat, leaning his lanky self conspiratorially forward.

“And I don’t think we have time for that,” I retorted.

“Well technically we do,” said Armand, a helpful, oblivious smile as he started the car.

We cruised through the rolling landscape, discussing the same podcast (at this point, I was really coming around to spectral informatics). We pulled into the Marshlands. We greeted the pair of Blake and Logan who had a consistent, but slightly different dynamic of weird and antsy.

Protocol called for as few people as possible being informed of a potential time loop, even if both of them, Armand stressed, had been possessed–and were possibly currently possessed–by a cross-temporal trickster deity.

We take the airboat. We get to the island. We fall, somehow unsuspecting, into some wacky bullshit. And then–

—

“That you?”

I sighed into the mist of ass enhancing cheese dust kicked up by Lee’s questing fingers. “Fourth iteration.”

“Oh a time loop! The plot thickens.”

“Yes. And yes, that was my handiwork. And yes, the cheese puffs are causing more than the plot to thiccen.”

Lee paused in brief trepidation, then shrugged and grabbed one last handful before easing into the backseat. “What’s this one like? I don’t think time loop protocol starts until at least the fifth or sixth.”

“The sixth, according to Armand’s last memo.”

“You read Armand’s memos?” asked Lee, incredulous.

“No, he just–”

“You read my memos?” asked Armand, hopping into the driver's seat and taking a minute to nonchalantly wrestle with his bulge into a slightly more comfortable sitting position.

“No, you mentioned it earlier. Earlier for me, meaning you haven’t actually mentioned it yet.”

“Dave’s in a time loop,” Lee offered. “Fourth iteration!”

Armand paused, his eyes shifting around the middle distance just passed the hood of the van, looking like he was very carefully piecing his next words together. “You know I really shouldn’t eat these,” he muttered, reaching into the bag of cheese puffs.

The podcast. The Marshlands. The airboat. The clearing. The great watery eye in the landscape on the verge of winking at me in jest. The artifact, hovering.

“What could possibly happen this time?” I asked myself. “Maybe aliens touch down and retrieve their toy.”

“No, I don’t think that would happen again,” came a voice from just out of sight, but not out of earshot.

I turned my head slowly, making eye contact with the oh shit look painted across Logan’s face.

“What do you mean again?” I asked, eyes narrowing.

“Well, we were trying to tell you, or, debating whether to tell you yet,” he stammered, before catching himself. “Wait, what do you mean this time?”

We stared at each other, waiting to see who would break first.

“Tenth iteration,” he said.

“Fourth iter–tenth iteration?! You never thought to mention this?”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to tell anyone until like iteration twelve,” said Blake.

“Iteration twelve…” Armand seemed to deflate.

“No, no, they changed it,” said Lee.

“Does no one read my emails?” asked Armand, a vision of exasperation.

“Oh buddy,” said Lee, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Of course not.”

“You’ve been through this nine times?” I asked. “And every time, what, something weird and catastrophic happens?”

“And then we reset,” Logan confirmed.

“I’ve been thinking,” Armand mused, “maybe this whole ritual with the artifact is a strategy for Synt to fully enter this plane of existence, but maybe it fails every time, essentially short circuiting this local timestream and resetting it.”

“So Synt keeps breaking the rules and the game restarts?” said Lee.

“There are…rules?” asked Blake, heading tilted slightly in wonder.

“There are laws,” said Armand, “for this corner of multidimensional existence. There must also be for higher planes and more complex configurations. At least guidelines. Maybe some sort of natural adaptive system, or even a higher dimensional defense mechanism.”

“A higher dimensional defense mechanism,” I began, “that reins in the higher dimensional being that we can already barely fathom?”

“I mean…possibly?”

We sat in the soft moss for a while, contemplating our shared existence as specks of cosmic static. We bounced around half baked ideas and speculations about quantum field theory, supernatural entanglement, simulated realities, clockwork universes. We waited for some ridiculous happening to send us back to start over again. We debated why it was or wasn’t.

“One time Dave turned into a giant and started throwing trees around,” Blake said, perking up with enthusiasm.

“Oh hell yeah,” said Lee. “Can’t believe we missed that one.”

“I think you died in that one, actually,” said Logan, with a quick, sympathetic smile.

“Oh dude, c’mon,” said Lee, turning towards me.

“I’ll buy you a beer when we get this figured out,” I said, throwing my hands up. “A whole round!”

The Sun moved to the tips of the trees along the western edge of the clearing. The sphere spun smoothly on its axis.

—

[Meanwhile, at the gas station…]

Okay, sharp inhale, hold it, hold it…cinch your entire body inwards, and pull. I yanked up the waistband of my khakis, giving it a few jumps to get gravity on my side, and gasped in delight as my backup pants miraculously made it over my glutes. Not all the way, I turned to see them riding low in the back, but good enough to make it through the rest of my shift. They were my last pair, the others laying in tatters, strewn around in frustration.

I still couldn’t believe that three of the hottest guys I’ve ever seen rolled into this little gas station in the middle of nowhere and I actually ripped my pants. And then the backup pair. And then the backup pair to the backup pair. They had fit just that morning. Not well, but well enough, considering the shelf I was dragging behind me. I didn’t think it had gotten that much bigger since the last time I had had everything adjusted. I had always been proud of my bubble butt, but it seemed like any weight I put on went to one place and one place only, and it was getting ridiculous. And expensive. I had just been joking when I mentioned the cheese puffs, but maybe I should cut back. At least I had this final pair, practically painted on to my backside, but stable so long as I made no sudden–

“Hey Kes!” I wheeled around to see what Zac wanted, grimacing as I realized far too late what I had done. The sound of seams ripping, the touch of cool air across my butt cheeks, the look of unbridled glee on Zac’s face.

“...Fuck,” I said, hanging my head in resignation. “What is it?”

“I was going to ask if you did inventory yet, but I see you got some bigger fish to fry.” The easy smile, the lean against the side of the doorframe. The bulge in his pants that I knew from personal experience was a 7” softie–and that I knew from personal experience was a serious grower. “Is that, like, a harness?”

Ugh. “It’s a, ah, support system,” I corrected, glancing back at the array of straps and elastic bands holding my round cheeks in place, now fully visible to Zac from the doorway. “I found it online, they’re made special for guys with unique, uh, proportions. Didn’t think I would need it, yet, but I had one on hand just in case.”

“Hmm,” his eyes settled closed as he nodded, putting on his active listening face. “So like a bra.”

“It’s not a…” I sighed, giving up mid sentence.

“Okay, okay, sorry,” his palms out in acquiescence. “You know I’m a big fan of your unique proportions.”

That was putting it lightly. Zac’s one of my oldest friends, a very endearing stoner type who always manages to stay cool as a summer breeze. He’s had a habit of bouncing from one scheme to another, the latest of which is this run down gas station he acquired a few years ago and has somehow managed to keep operational. He lets me pick up part time work in the offseason, and most days it’s just the two of us looking after things and managing the slow drip of business, allowing ample time for the benefits of our friendship. He had always been a big fan of my assets, and my now constant wardrobe struggles only worsened his enthusiasm.

“You know it’s hard for me to find pants that fit, let alone get alterations out here,” I said. “I almost asked one of the guys in that van just now before I had to run back in, you should’ve seen…” I trailed off, holding an invisible beach ball between my hands.

“You’re more than enough for me,” Zac said with a smirk. “I think there are still those stretchy purple shorts in the office, from back when we did the Incredible Hulk promotion.”

“Don’t remind me.” My cheeks blushed as I thought back to the comical sight of my ass stuffed into that spandex costume, going viral on social media.

“How ‘bout you stay behind the counter and I’ll handle the pumps. You only have to be presentable from the waist up,” he added with a wink.

“Deal,” I said, my eyes lingering for a few seconds as he meandered off.

The stretchy purple shorts–with tattered fringes and cosmetic tears, of course–weren’t exactly my style, but they were at least comfortable. And chances of catastrophic failure were minimal with me perched on the stool behind the counter, ringing up the occasional customer and flirtatiously shooting the shit with Zac as the hours ticked by.

It was a normal enough day, but I couldn’t get my mind off that trio who came through earlier. I could feel, I don’t know, an energy about them, like the air around them was shimmering but not in a way you could see, if that makes sense. I guess it doesn’t. I would’ve written it off as the usual weirdness out in the boonies, but it lingered all day. Felt deeper and deeper. Like a presence had stayed behind after they left, some sort of gravitational pull hovering in the back of my mind, making my skin tingle and my hips flex with the feeling of phantom touches. Like a cosmic pressure growing. The opaque, dream-like impression of a trickster smile.

Not that I much cared. I grew up around these parts, there’s all manner of haints and spirits and cryptids, or whatever you want to call ‘em. You learn to deal. Pay attention to the hot/cold patchiness in the woods, watch out for fairy circles in suspiciously quiet clearings, don’t stare too long at the crotches of trees that look too much like doorways. Not that I had a habit of putting my nose where it didn’t belong, but I paid attention to the stories and had done plenty of reading of my own. I knew enough to know that sometimes a being that may or may not be of this world decides to spend some time with you, and sometimes that being may or may not want to have some fun with the fabric of our mundane everyday reality. Didn’t mean you had to take ‘em all that serious.

Pretty sure the park rangers out in the Marshlands get paid to deal with that kind of stuff. Seems like a fun job. Apparently you just have to take some classes at the university. I’d been considering it off and on but maybe this is some kind of sign. In the meantime I thought maybe I was craving some quality time with Zac that evening. I couldn’t quite explain it, but I had a sneaking suspicion that maybe his seven inch softie was looking more like eight.

I had the impression of tectonic plates in the back of my mind moving in agreement.

#male tf #girl help! I'm stuck in a time loop

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