DAY 6 - fig. 2. teeth in crooked neck - ephemeron - GazxFReader
If I could frame any fic and stroke it lovingly before going to sleep each night it would be this one. Good fucking god. This Gaz is just exquisite. The premise of this whole collection is 😙🤌 cus I’m One Yucky Slut but the GAZ ONE is FAR AND AWAY my favourite. He’s so fucking dreamy I could bust my zipper.
Highlights: adorable little aside of Gaz and Simon being good friends, OMEGAVERSEEEE, Gaz’s offer of aftercare (you’ll see what I mean), and three more delectable dishes in the series
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
(new fic from me. Very much wanted to write some solid Sherlolly smut for my friend. I think someone else requested some recently? This is how it is done then. )
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
He’ll probably not notice.
Molly knows the risk, and how to hurt her own feelings. An old unconscious practice. Akin to the knife’s first slice into a cadaver’s chest. Molly’s therapist told her so, a mundane habit she could do in her sleep.
“I don’t know what you expect. We’ve gone over this and I remind—”
“You’re so good at reminding me… Like I don't know what to do.”
And her therapist would sigh and move on. Talk about her mother or her job or… but no they haven’t talked about her and Sherlock’s past in a long time.
It’s more familiar than what we are now.
Her therapist was clueless Molly, and Sherlock slept together. Any of the times. Dinners. Overnights. Tea and then lunch. More than work and one step ahead even if it feels the same.
“I’ve only got twenty,” he checks his watch. “Actually forty minutes, I’ll be honest. This case needs another intelligent mind. John has none, so you’re it.”
“Always,” she says, her fingers running down the edge of the tie like a stim. Black, dull silk, fine in its quality even if plain. She couldn’t say now why she stole the tie at the moment. It’s end sticking out of a drawer. But it cleared in her head a day ago, an image she can’t push aside.
A breath between them, his squint unyielding.
“That's my tie.”
“Hmm?” He likes me innocent at first.
“Why are you wearing… it.” His voice drops lower, his stare on her chest and she pulls air sharply through her nose to counteract the instant heat and pressure under her sternum. Should’ve skipped breakfast.
“Hmm?” She stares down, shuffling a paper, looking at anything but his eyes. “Oh this. I had a staff meeting, and I needed to look more professional. I saw it there the other day and —”
“No.”
“I’m sorry?” She dares a glance up, swallowing her thickened spit in a slow gulp. Why do I forget his effect every time until it's too late? “What are you—”
“That's not why you wore it.” His voice bounces in her head, direct… with no hint of confusion.
She snickers while her insides contort, knowing it's a game he’ll win. “Contrary to your ego, I do things that have nothing to do with you.”
“But it's… my… tie.” He speaks each word softer than the next as he steps beside her. “And I said nothing other than that, which is true. In fact. But… that’s not a clue. The Molly I know would always ask, not take… like a thief… but that circumstance is irrelevant to the reasoning. Now…” his gloved fingers tap on the table near her hand. “I need you to tell me what it is… you want or … is that the game?”
She shakes her head slightly. “What?”
He sighs out as he flexes his chest, glancing down at the table, “The game… Your game. Please own this… it's much sexier. You’re of like mind, but that means…” his eyes travel up her form and meet her stare, “We must use words. Is that not what we discussed, my darling?”
Blank. Her thoughts slip away with that “my darling” dripping in the sweetness, almost like begging that he whispered in her ear only two days ago… when she stole the tie.
I have two options… keep playing or play with him.
“So what?” Okay so I play.
“So what what?” The tiniest growl under his tone sets her spine alight.
She sniffs and shrugs, looking away at her paperwork. Perfect. “So I stole your tie.” Her index finger and thumb stroke down the tie.
“Yes, we’ve established this… move on.”
“I’m wearing it.” She loosens it at the top. She spies his eyes on her throat.
“Are we in the mood for the obvious?”
“Does it bother you?” She holds his stare. He also likes me like this.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
He flinches, and she smirks.
“So, what are you going to do about it?” She only offers a raised eyebrow.
“Why should I do anything?” he snickers low as he leans back against the counter, folding his leather gloves hands across in front and his face drops back into flat serious. “You made your decisions. You want me to do something about it… but…”
He sighs so faintly, and she matches. So maybe this was silly. It was fun but … is this us?
He leans to her, without a word, and she waits wide eyed as he gets closer, stepping around the counter running his fingers lightly on it. His eyes stay on the tie and she holds her breath, waiting, each scuff of his step ringing in her head.
So much of what she imagines never comes true. Even now, this all seems like a dream. Did she imagine his hands on it this morning as she tied the knot? Yes. God, yes.
His hand brushes her breast as he slides it up the tie and grips, tugging her to him in one hard snatch.
“Tell me what you want with this,” Sherlock says. His eyes betray him, darkened now.
“Beg me,” she says, letting the fire settle in her chest. Her own voice is unfamiliar to her. Low and clear like his.
“Ah… well,” Sherlock says with a click of his tongue, his fingers wrapping the tie around his hand. One turn, then another over his hand. “Let me do what you need… what you want…what fantasy has played in your head…and to this end… please. Rid me of this riddle. Give me the answers.”
She closes her eyes, the heat of his face so near hers now. “I could leave you stiff and cold.” She heard the tremor in her voice, the pressure hard at the back of her neck.
“You can…you have before.”
“I’m glad you remember that.”
“Yes… I remember everything.”
Molly’s memories flash like lightning, dropping into her body, and her eyes flutter closed.
“Tell me what you need… tell me the game.”
She licks her lips meeting his dark gaze. The animal inside him growling under his teeth set, his hum low as he slips his gloved finger down her jaw, gentle and rough in his grip, the leather soft but with pressure. “What… do… you… want?”
“Turn and go into my office and wait. Sit in the chair that is uncomfortable, the old chair you complained about when I made you sit an hour in it… you’ll sit and wait… gotta throw off suspicion…yes?”
“Good girl.” He says low, his fingertips falling from her face, down and across the tie and her breasts, somehow finding her nipple. She stifles a gasp.
And he’s gone, pulling his coat close around him and his steps increasing as she watches him sneak into her office and close the door with no noise.
“That's right… I am. But I’m bored of that.”
His eyes spoke of curiosity before he left her… It looks a lot like lust. She’s always seen that in his drive for answers. Passion in bed is better used in a case, he’d all but said. Others never spotted it, but she did.
But I’ll make him too tired to care about the case. You can thank me later, John.
“You will…” her fingers lightly travelled up the tie to her throat, a glitter painted nail tracing along the collar and he doesn’t blink, “Do exactly what I tell you. I’m gonna take my tie off… oh sorry… your tie.”
He licks his lips, his blue eyes darker, steadily staring at her fingers.
She counts breaths between each pull. 5…4…3…2…1
The tug is unyielding at the nape as she arches it up, throat exposure that shifts him in his seat, mirroring her with his own neck.
The knot slides out, and she grabs both sides. God that pull feels like his hand the other night... But focus…
“I need you to stand.”
He wordlessly complies.
“You will tie me to the chair.”
“We could do this somewhere more enjoyable—”
“Did I say speak?”
He shakes his head. The slight lift at the corner of those perfect lips strikes her core, blood pooling. She knows each tic and gesture like a well-worn textbook. Years and she uses it to her advantage now.
She sits slowly, not releasing his gaze, letting him see down her shirt before she leans back.
“You like it when I tell you what to do? Nod… but if you have any pretty words as you tie, then say them… make me ache if you can.”
“I don’t have to speak… in fact my words are worthless. But my hands do valuable work… and my tongue… if you want them, they will serve you better.”
“Shut up then and get to work.”
His leather hands, like a criminal tying her up, crosses her mind, and tingles in her skin. He’s no angel, as he said before. But serene in his steps behind her taking her arm’s weight into his hand, the leather thumb softly tracing the vein down her wrist, tugging her arms back.
And he binds hard, with speed and she whimpers at the pressure just before dangerous. So precise it almost makes her come.
“Kiss me… my lips, my eyes, and my jaw.”
He lingers his gaze before beginning his set path and she squints at its tenderness. Has she seen it before? Before now, many years ago, his lingering glance, so happy that she’d moved on like he instructed strictly her on the night he left to be “dead”.
But I tired of doing what I was told to…
Everyone told her to never look back, never settle, never sleep in his bed and never think he could…
His lips’ caress so faint, she almost wishes her hands could slap him. He knows, oh he knows, and it's worse.
“Stop being so docile,” she says, irritation creeping into her tone and settling in her tightening chest.
“May I speak?” he says in a low whisper, resonating in her jaw more than her ear.
She nods, and he persists for kisses on the same path before leaning back and securing her stare with his.
“Reverence is not as foreign to me as it would seem. An object of desire before me. A game and a case all her own. So speak.” He pulls in a ragged breath, her eyes falling to his chest, watching it rise and fall before his words snap her attention to his mouth. “Tell me your desires. Your requirements for this sacrament… it is not any less worthy than any other rite.”
Her lungs betray her. But she builds fire from it, “Unbutton my shirt, slowly, and kiss anywhere you want. But only if… you tell me what you are sorry for.”
“Hmm?” A pinch of confusion tightens on his brow.
“Say your apologies.”
“A confession?”
She nods with a heavy breath out her nose, the fantasy now real washing over her. And he blinks slower as his mouth crooks up.
He sneaks a kiss below her jaw and she allows it only because the distinct sound of his glove pulled off and hitting the floor strikes her to her core. Oh god he’s going to do this… all of it I ask. His hand to the buttons of her shirt and she counts each one in her head, mapping his path and the seconds turn into minutes. Her body drops into a state of awareness and surprises her.
Her eyes flutter closed, his breath dancing along her sternum, and his hands plant on the chair’s edges, not touching her thighs but so close she senses their heat. Is he being careful or is he… god just grab me… but no. She rights her mind, reminding this is the fantasy she wants. She says, “Yes, like a confession… if you want to bring religious kink into this.”
A joke to lighten the mood.
He sighs, and she turns her attention to watch his lips as he says with his usual grin. “I can’t argue with its power.”
“Can’t imagine you in church.”
He sighs into her skin and she can’t breathe. Why am I feeling this way now? She’s had sex with him. Though mostly more passionately, fast, or angry. Scratching an itch. But this is like surgery.
“You go to church often?”
“Well, no—”
“Except that night.”
She leans back, and he obliges and mirrors, each looking fully at the other.
His eyes say what he doesn’t. He was there the night she slipped in the church to pray in desperation for his safety. A god she can’t believe in but she needed any help she could get.
“If I could I’d slap you.” It’s worked in the past.
“Oh… but you can’t.”
“Wipe that smile off or you get nothing.”
“My apologies.”
“Then get on your knees.”
She catches the flash of the shape of his cock in his pants as he steps half a step back and falls to his knees before her with a dull thud and a grimace.
“Molly… if I’m allowed, I will confess my sins… while I commit others.”
“As long as you do as I say, absolution is yours.” Her smile grows as she speaks, a new fire building in her core with the words she’d only heard in her head before.
“Beautiful words but…” His darkened stare on her chest and she knows he cheats, counting breaths and rise and fall to know his effect.
“Some things are involuntary, Sherlock. I’m exposed in my office. That's why my heart is up and my breath—”
“OH… of course.”
“Moving on. You’re confessing… not me. I need no forgiveness.”
“Then please forgive me…” he licks the corner of his lip, his gaze straying down. “I forget my place. May I lay kisses on your chest as an offering with my confessions?”
“Yes.”
Her thighs in his hands as he leans over, his hot breath on her skin now so close as his lips caress just below her collarbone. “Forgive me, Molly, I have sinned.”
The kiss moves over to her clavicle and he speaks low into her throat, “I knew of your affections…” Trailing down her sternum and she knows her breath informs him of her want to him. But she can’t control them now. Her arms ache now tied back
“I confess I thought all affection dull… but not yours…” He smiles into the kiss over her heart, the pressure of it and the organ reaching for each other through her sternum.
Wait… what?
But his lips trail over the swell and his nose nuzzles the edge of her bra, the heat of his breath sneaking through the black lace, finding her nipple and she gasp as he says “I confess I saw advantage at first… then it turned to fascination and then guilt… but nothing would rid me of it… not until you let me find my own.”
Get back under control. She lets the images of him breaking because of her wash over and give her ammunition. What could he say now? Was he even serious? She can’t decide if she wants him to be or not, but she’ll test it.
“What is your confession, then…that you loved me all along?” she says with a light snicker. Does he think I’m dumb? Is it to make me feel better?
The air shifts, and she swallows hard as he leans back and lifts his eyes. Their stares meet, his eyes steady where hers search. He licks his lips. “Yes… though I confess I was confused. But genuine confusion never stays long with me.”
Every nerve sends fire to her spine as she sits still in shock… hopes long dead racing through her mind and the look in his eyes… she recalls each memory, each time she said to herself, “no… do not believe.”
She squints, her mouth screwing up. “Then why did—”
“Why did I do anything?” His face lifts, looking to the ceiling as if I appeal to heaven but returns his darken stare to hers. “I’m selfish, Molly. Seeking the ends to the means. I’m ill equipped at human emotion out of the abstract… you deserve more… so much—”
“Shut up.”
And he does, his face falling into a kind of serenity.
She expects him to argue after she says it. It's his favourite defence mechanism she’d indulged until now. It made for some amazing foreplay recently. But he surprises her again as he pulls his lips tight closed and only nods with a slow blink.
“My trousers…” she sighs as his long fingers find the button immediately, and with precision he drags the zipper down. “Prove what I deserve.”
She shivers as his fingers slide inside her waistband, one hand gloved and the other not mixing sensations along her hips. How many times she’d seen those gloves hold evidence. Now tracing the lines of her bones like reading religious text, reverent. Much slower study than the previous times, none of the fervent pawing. Has he had his fill before, so now he’s patient? Her mind settles with his calmness, and she knows what to say.
“Meet it once more, but now worship as it was meant to be… in—OH,” she says soft but yelps out he lifts her, grips her trousers and knickers in one snatch down to her knees and then looks her in the eyes as he pulls the rest of the way down slow and off.
Bit of both then.
She should have more thoughts. This is her fantasy, after all. What a time to tell him what she wants, he so perfectly compliant. The cool air of her office floats across her exposed skin. His hands cover her knees, and he pushes them apart and her breath catches.
“Just touch me,” she blurts out, everything in her core aching.
“I’m but a humble servant…,” he smirks as he says it, but it doesn’t make her want him less. “You must tell me what you desire most of all… what you need… my hands or my lips.” He slips the gloved hand roughly up her thigh, his thumb ghosting the crease of her thigh and her cunt.
“I… your hand first. You can kiss me everywhere else.”
He grabs her bum with his gloved hand, the leather tightening with his grip into her flesh, and she sighs into the building pain. But it only builds her hunger and impassioned fervour overwhelming her and she hears the hitch in his breath, a consecration declaring her power and his want.
His lips and teeth pull at her bra and her nipple slips out with coaxing. His lips and tongue work and she forgets where his hands are until the ungloved one slips up, gripping her rib cage tight as it slips over the other breast.
He moans, sucking her nipple and half her breast into his mouth until she arches, the tie tightening on her wrist and she matches his moan. Her mind clears with the perfect combination. Nothing else in the world but these sensations. Wetness spreads across her hard seat as she shifts. For a moment, the discomfort grounds her in the reality of her fantasy coming true. The smells of chemical mixing with their own scents, and the sterile hospital air.
Spoken low into her chest, his voice and her heart skipping along with the words. “Intercede for me, my beloved Molly. Let your grace pour out for me, but also your mercy. I do not deserve this honour… I denied myself it because of that truth… yet you bless me. Let me bless you too.”
He put his fingers in his mouth, wet them with a glisten and then found her cunt, slipping in with ease as she bites her tongue not to cry out. It wasn’t new to her; she knows the fingers well, but the scene set overwhelming and she slides in the chair to allow him more and the tie pulls on her wrist to a deep ache.
Two fingers in pulling and curving calling her to come as she gasps, a small orgasm pulls from her. God that was fast.
“This is but the beginning of my confession. Let my tongue speak the rest.”
“Oh god—”
The words gone, his kiss on her lips hard, then soft and tongue disorientating her, his gloved hand still kneading her bum and the fingers inside her spread, his thumb finding her clit now.
She sighs and whispers into his mouth, “yes” and he laps it up.
But then he is gone and she can’t catch her breath before he pushes her thighs apart and both hands grip her ass, bringing her to his hungry mouth.
He devours her. The word “fuck” leaves her lips between heaved breaths. The growing ache in her lower belly matching the pull on her arms and shoulder.
Tongue wide laid flat licks up and finds her swollen clit and she cries out, biting her lip to keep from a loud moan.
Between licks, he whispers to her, “I confess I could drink this sacrament forever, drown if it—oh yes it has blessed me.”
His tongue laps more up and she moans her eyes closing in ecstasy. But the air cools and she senses his pause… like asking permission and she glances down to see him looking up in begging reverence. It breaks her and puts her back together.
She sighs through her heightened breath to a shudder. “Drink then, drink your fill if you can.”
“Thank you…oh bless you,” he says, a murmur only as he continues his worship.
He sucks and pulls, consuming all she releases. His tongue playing with her clit with a perfect speed her mind goes deliciously blank. Only the rolling sensation in her body, his touch and mouth and nothing else.
“Drown me, my darling.” His shudder, the pitch rising, and she knows his want, sensing it in her core.
“Like that yes god please yes” she wishes she could pull his hair, but the tug of her requested restriction like reverse psychology and in her frustration her want grows.
The groans come deep from him, echoing into her cunt, and she shudders as he whispers, “I love you.”
And the orgasms wash over her, long sustains and staccato his tongue plays as his fingers enter her again. Playing her like a new piece of music. “My conversion is complete. This religion I only knew in the abstract will now be my only devotion.”
He lifts himself up, his fingers slipping inside her deeper. And he kisses her hard again. She tastes herself mixed with him, a scent mixed with his spicy cologne and she aches clinching his fingers, riding out the last of the climax. He slips out, and she drifts back into reality with her breathing.
He places his forehead against hers. “May I release your bondage now?”
She nods and kisses his cheek, still wet from her. “Only you can… my love.”
They both smile, searching in their stare for ease once again. She sighs as he wraps his arms around and kisses his neck, and he loosens the tie’s hold and rubs her arms, helping her wrap them around him.
He pulls her onto the floor with him, cradling her, and stroking her hair, pulling its sweaty strands of hair away from her neck. She lays her head on his chest, his heart’s thump a comfort. How many times she’d considered when it might stop on her. She’s seen his dead body in her mind and in a lie… and that reality will still happen one day. It's a toss up who’ll be first but she wants the living one as much as possible. Death is inevitable. So is life.
Then let’s live.
“Let me get your clothes and let's go back to… yours? You have the most comfortable bed. No ties to steal,” he says matter-of-factly but with a growing smirk. That snarky boyish charm his face always shows. He’ll always have that and she grins, grabbing his cheeks with both hands and kissing him until he moans in her mouth.
She releases him to admire his soft gaze, the only worship she’ll ever need.
a/n: heyo! this is day 5 of nutvember. if you are new here, y/n will not be able to cum until the last day but luckily, rengoku is our focus here lmfaoo. pls reblog/like if u dig it! enjoy xx
the setting sun shined into the living room— directly hitting rengoku as he sat on the carpet. y/n was sprawled on the couch, bong in hand as she hacked up a lung from the previous hit— finally passing over the glass piece. “shit.. this is that shit i shouldn't be sharing with you” she joked to which rengoku just responded with a loud laugh as usual.
the bong got passed off between the couple until their eyes were low and throats too dry to speak. y/n eyed rengoku from the couch, scanning his form before leaping forward— tackling him. all he could do was let out an oof as the two started to roll around, playfully wrestling before he finally let her pin him down.
“you’ve never given up this easily”
rengoku was silent, hands rubbing along her sides before he lifted his head to kiss her passionately— the two exchanging tongues and spit as the kiss deepened. y/n’s lips moved down his jawline, parting to bite down on his neck which caused him to whimper slightly. these were the noises she loved to hear. the ones that confirmed that he was completely under her mercy. starting to travel down his bare chest, her tongue swirled and sucked against his nipples— legs straddling him as her crotched pressed against his own.
all rengoku could do was whimper and moan, cock hardening from her subtle grinds. “please..y/n” he breathed out, not sure what he was asking for completely. y/n hummed, raising a brow, “pleease? you know i can’t read minds pup.. talk to me..”. the nickname caused him to shudder, ghost ears cowering at the way she held him in her hand.
“please i.. want to feel your mouth around me..” he spoke clearly, hands moving to pull down his own bottoms and boxers. y/n laughed in amusement, dry mouth watering from his neediness. “mm?“ her brow quirked, eyes falling down to where his cock slowly rose, plopping against his belly button.
“happy to oblige, sweet thing.”
her mouth got to work, tongue paying attention to his leaking tip while her hands jerked the rest of him. all he could do was prop himself up on his elbows, mouth gaping as he resisted the urge to buck his hips. he wanted to be good for her.. to only move at her command. the control became harder as soon as she started to take more of him in, dick hitting the back of her throat. “holy fu..” he groaned, hips bucking once before planting back down.
y/n giggled around him, a hand coming to lightly press his hip down before she continued to deepthroat his cock— head bobbing at a steady pace. before rengoku knew it, he was shooting out a premature load, lips opening quickly to apologize before being cut off by a whine once he noticed she wasn’t stopping. her head continues to move, throat swallowing all he had to offer before it went in to ask for more. “y-y/n.. too sensitive” he murmured, hips still thrusting upwards into her mouth unknowingly.
coming up, she kissed his tip, brain lost in lust. “i think you have one more..”. quickly, she got back to work. one hand paid attention to his balls, squeezing and massaging as her tongue ran along the bottom of his cock—- drinking in how red his face had gotten. how his cock throbbed relentlessly against her tongue. rengoku brought a shaky hand up to her head, tugging her hair lightly as he bit down on his lip hard enough to draw blood.
“you do this shit so.. so fucking good” he cursed, brain trying to wrap around how he was cumming yet again—- thoughts not as fast as the load that shot out. “t-thank you..wait..wait y/n please!” he cried out, realizing she wasn’t stopping. he wanted to please her but he felt like he would be shooting ghost loads by the time she was done. y/n pulled her mouth away, hand jerking his soaked dick as she came up to sloppily kiss him. all he could do was let out shaky breaths into her mouth, hips bucking into her pumps as his eyes watered.
“come on pup you got it.. you wanna be my good boy, right? my good boys gotta cum for me” y/n egged him on, pulling away to look at his feverish expression. rengoku nodded quickly, eyes focused on her—- “i’m your good boy i promise.. your good boy..” he repeated—- brain focused on making her proud and that alone. finally, he let out a cry as his cock came once again, eyes rolling back as y/n continued to milk him— cooing phrases of praise to guide him through. being sure that he was fully emptied, she brought her cum coated hand up to his mouth to which rengoku welcomed it eagerly— cleaning her digits. y/n chuckled, head moving down once again as she whispered words that sent chills down rengoku’s spine.
DAY 26 - Trapper, Keeper - babypandacakes - KönigxCisfemReader
It’s WIP Wednesday. And yes, this is the top of the tag, but nothing makes me dive for my phone like an update email for TK. My pornbrained brethren, never before have I been so fucking stressed over a piece of writing like this. It’s hard for me to reread the earlier chapters because König’s brainwashing worked so damn well on me that it’s like ‘rip to reader but I simply would not disobey’. This is such a fucking good one I could scream.
Highlights: König’s so terrifying I could cream. I mean pee. Pee is what I mean.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
I recently read an absolutely delicious fic and can’t remember wether you recommended it. In case you didn’t, I hereby recommend it to you: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60056848?view_adult=true#main
Also may I ask for some fic recommendations 🥺
Oh my fucking. God. Would you believe I was just looking for this one and gonna put out an APB on it tomorrow if I couldn’t find it tonight. My life is yours
If you send another message w some more specifics I’ll definitely find you some bespoke but I’m still at the con!! In da meantime check out me fic rec tag
DAY 29 - The Bull and The Maiden - DanceoftheSevenVeils- KönigxCisfemReader
No one is doing König like this author. Thank god, or I’d shrivel up like a prune surrounded by crusty socks. This work is actually what I’d probably consider an intro to their writing, since it’s a lovely 16k and the Con barely even Dubs. For this, our penultimate day, it’s just perfect.
Highlights: His FREAK ASS!! My favourite König is when he’s a complete creep freak. It’s where we started Nutvember and it’s where we’ll denouement.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
We’ve come to a close on my silly wee project. I’ve had a lot of fun (ง •̀_•́)ง To finish out, I’ve got three series that I can glaze relentlessly.
VIOLATOR REMASTERED - aka ‘read the fucking tags I’m not your mom’ - still sometimes hits me like a penny dropped from space. The ego death of reading Soap getting gun-fucked will never be cured.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
INCOMPATIBLE MATING PRACTICES - Listen, HigherMagic is a pervert for the ages. They’ve got a knack for worldbuilding and it’s especially sparkling here. Also, getting Ghost pregnant always rules down.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
OMEGAVERSE 141 - Simply titled, simply delicious. This is a really cool hypothetical for how Poly141 could manifest in omegaverse. The second work has the tastiest Kyle my peabrain can handle.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Thank you all for joining me on this journey. I hope you failed NNN as hard as I did.
DAY 21 - Non-Euclidean Sex Chicken - NocNocBird - Poly141
I love a hentai-ass concept and portal-pussy is a favourite. Ghost gets GOT in this one, repeatedly, and it’s so choice. Not to be vulgar, but when Simon Riley absolutely gets his cunt ruined by his fellow soldiers, I’m jackin my shit like I’m trying to start a fire.
Highlights: The comedic points are hysterical, the concept of ‘communal fleshlight for the lads’ is hysterical, and Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley has the juiciest most biteable fucking clit I have to be spayed
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
