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Dirk: take charge.
You're going to leave the toybox in the closet tonight, because you are fairly certain that you can ruin him six ways to Sunday without even a pair of fuzzy handcuffs to back you up, and you really don't want to give the poor guy an aneurysm or something.
The Morning Dew Betwixt Thine Thighs
You had thought he’d been so adamant about you coming over after school today to ask you out. And instead he gives you a fucking dick in a box and you tell him to take off his pants. Fucking great. Wow you suck.
The Rule of Threes
The day Aradia Megido arrived in New York, three important things happened, though she only noted two at the time.
And The Prize For Kinkiest Mating Flight Of This Turn Goes To...!
K'rkat burst into Sievereth's weyr, the bronze stretched out lazy and well-fed, oh Faranth's egg no. "Jade!" he screamed, startling the dragon. "Get out! And you, big lump, get up! Up and flying! Why are you still here?!" Jade came out of her corridor, rubbing her eyes. No doubt she'd spent all night bowed over her work table again and hadn't even eaten. "Oh, why are you yelling," she said around a yawn, "it's... not even mid-day yet!" "Yeah, by minutes!" Argh. No. No time. "Jade -- Bowith is bleeding her prey, and so is Kulirath."
Draco Phrynosomatus
Oh, huh. There are breasts at the other end of that poking stick. Bare ones. "She says, she does not care if you look at the wrong places that don't make words, but if you think you don't have to answer with words she may let me eat you." Right. So. The shadow. That's a dragon's wing.
A Case of Collegeitis Experimentus
"It's okay! We're just seducing you for better grades!" Poor Karkat, accosted by jailbait. What a tragic life a TA leads.
Service
Equikat, everyone's a dom or sub AU. -- The thing with Equius is, he's huge, and he's ripped, and he has a low, carrying voice, and he's bossy as fuck. Before he started wearing Karkat's collar he let people who were not directly concerned assume whatever they wanted out of his hearing, and he never came back home weary, never went straight to Karkat's desk to kneel there at his feet, silent and drawn in and waiting for a hand to caress his hair like he was a statue on the verge of crumbling into dust and only Karkat's touch might ward off that fate.
