#copious fluids to follow

[contaiinedarmageddon2]

❌ + condoms or buckets

CAPTOR CLOWN FIESTA, PART 2 below the cut for sauciness:

Sollux's vision remained slightly darkened and definitely still swimming when he came to staring up at the ceiling. The darkness may have been because it seemed to be later in the night by the light of the nearby window slit. He was still sitting, but his head felt like it was on something soft. Did they really give him a pillow or something after he passed out?

Speaking of feeling nice, usually when poisoned or drugged one woke up feeling terrible. But while Sollux had a little nausea and a bad taste in his mouth, he otherwise felt... Nice? Very nice, even. The kind of nice that would be spectacularly bad to feel in the midst of the enemy camp like this. At last he tried to sit up to clear his head, and at last he realized his arms had been tied behind his back, and something tied around his mouth. The adrenaline spike from that did succeed at clearing his head a little. Sollux's attempted surge to his feet did however bring his head to look downwards, giving him a sight that sent him rapidly teetering between lucidity and the stupor. Not only were his pants gone and cock out, someone had apparently fiddled with the belt that controlled his compressionwear in the process. Luckily they hadn't fully turned it off, but it was clearly on a lower setting than usual as the sheer log of gray meat outsized his leg by some degrees, and the pendulous basketball sized nuts sat heavily on the oversized chair meant for purples.

More alarming than the sudden nudity was the fact that an enormous hand had clamped its way around almost 3/4ths of the oversized organ and was gently stroking up and down it with slow motions. Following the length of that arm back brought him to match gazes with the softly smirking face of Chahut, whose chest his head was sunken some inches into. She stopped her ministrations for the moment, though made no motion to extricate him from her tits.

"hey yellow. why's a liTTle guy like you hide away a gifT as miraculous as This huh?" She hefted up the immense shaft in a little toss, like testing a weapon's weight. "when we picked This up on The scan i jusT knew all my good juggaleTTes could have a real parTy. and give you a bonus for hooking us up aT The same Time."

Satisfied with her own explanation, Chahut gripped his dick and angled it forward, feeding it through a hole in a wooden panel his chair had been set in front of. He was still flaccid enough that the oversized organ could squish down slightly and fit through the opening that was just a shade too small until he was fit through almost all the way to the base. All he could feel on the other side was some kind of... cloth?

Once he was good and settled, Chahut's smirk expanded into a wide grin. The arm that wasn't piloting his junk wrapped around her prodigious chest and the small yellowblood head held against it. She began squeezing, forcing his face into the exposed cleavage of her top and deep into the stuffy canyon of too-warm skin that had once contained that cursed drink. Now she started to rub him once more, short and hard strokes on what area was left on this side of the opening. "jusT need To geT you good and ready for The show. ThaT wicked parTy poTion makes even The mosT placid clown ready To geT down. should be more Than enough To geT your liquid gold Thumping and pumping inTo This biTchbreaker here."

It probably wouldn't have been necessary, between being smothered in the plush walls of her heavy tits and furious jerking motions he'd have gotten it up eventually. But the elixir did have his heart racing faster than normal, heat coursing out from his bloodpusher throughout his body and especially to his crotch. While he panted against the fatty walls of her cleavage an audible gurgle emitted from his swollen sack. Chahut's mouth had gone from a smirk, to a grin, to now a fang showing smile. "ThaT's The shiT. Time for This slurry hose of yours To sTar in The show. hang in There while i kick iT off."

The cloying warmth around his head vanished as the mastermind got up and stepped away. The vice feeling around his dick hadn't abated however, coming from the hole that now served as an impromptu cock ring as the angry tower stood at full mast, pulsing against the restraint. Between that and the arm restraints he was going nowhere. Now that his face wasn't pushed into fat clown tits however, he could look around to take stock of his predicament better. There appeared to be some kind of window or slit in the wall in front of his head, though something was blocking it from the other side. The whole wall had a sort of L shape to it, was this whole thing attached to a stage? A sound of heavy footsteps on wood shortly after Chahut left seemed to confirm it...

Chahut herself lumbered onto the stage and up to the mic. A sizable crowd had already gathered, drawn in by the lights and signage that had been set up while she waited for her little guest to perk back up. She stared out at the gathered women, invited especially by her or those she told to gather more for this special bit of girls-night fun. While not all were purple bloods, the vast majority brave enough to enter the Carnival were.

"ladies and sisTers!" She began announcing. "i Thank you all for coming. especially afTer last year's fiasco. and iT is parTially for That reason That i've whipped up This liTTle game. sTress relief and a compeTiTion wiTh fabulous prizes boTh!"

That got some interested hoots and hollers. "i know There were rumors This was almosT a dry carnival on accounT of cerTain fuckups noT To be named. who here would like To thank the inTrepid soul who bailed our mirThful selves ouT of a very un-mirThful night?" More cheers. Being saved from an elixir-less night had an almost holy aspect to it, at least when they could remember it. "ThaT same helpful moThafucker also agreed To help me seT up This game for ya'll insTead of going on his merry way. so i expecT To see some fuckin graTiTude. so here iT is!"

She hurled the stage curtains behind her back. Strong moonlight suddenly filtering in through the small viewing window Sollux could see out of, but that could not be easily seen back into. Now he could see what was revealed to the crowd as well. Reaching up nearly to Chahut's waist stood his tower of a cock. It jutted out from the floor at a slight angle and stage lights illuminated both it and a small altar of colorful cushions before it. Beside the carefully made glory hole was box after box after box stacked atop themselves. Chahut stepped up to these and tore the lid off the top one, retrieving an almost comically large plastic square, the edge of which she tore off to reveal a purple tinted condom.

"The game is simple. our messiah-senT guesT here promised To help ouT in our merrimenT unTil the very lasT drop! and ya'll are going To wring each and every one ouT of him. everybody geTs one condom, and whoever manages To geT Theirs The mosT full by the Time This beasTly Thing Taps ouT is our winner!"

Chahut extended a hand down to the base of the hole, then ran her fingers tortuously slowly up the entire impossible length of Sollux's underside. His body's purpose was affirmed immediately. It could not help but send a trickle of potent precum up after her fingers, and a trickle at his mammoth size was enough to fill a solo cup. It beaded up out of his cockhead and splattered noisily to the stage floor, giving the show-runner her cue.

"begin!"

//Jesus fuck how did I end up needing a part 3? I even had action for most of this! aaaaaaaagh. It is a good pain.

#drabble #ficlet #its just a fic at this point lets be real #hyperdic #copious fluids to follow #heavily spicy under the cut you're warned #Captor Clown Fiesta

[hey-august]

Close your eyes, just settle, settle

Word count: ~1.4k Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x GN!reader, no use of Y/N, partaking in the devil's lettuce 🍃, masturbation while fantasizing about sex, assumed unrequired infatuation, smidge of edging/delayed orgasm, lil bit of angst and shame at the end. Apparently I have a thing for lonely perv buggy whoops

Title from "A Decade Under the Influence" by Taking Back Sunday

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Moonbeams seep into the room. Slow and lazy, easily caught in the swirling heady smoke. A lighter clicks. A deep inhale followed by a slow exhale, nearly a sigh, adds to the drifting currents. Buggy sinks into his pillows, the softness tricking his body into thinking it might fall straight through. 

While the pirate prefers copious amounts of alcohol as his main vice, some nights he’ll indulge in a different session. A sticky feeling on his fingertips, the taste of fire and ash, a deeply earthy smell that’s pleasantly unpleasant. It doesn’t take long for the smoke to blur the edges of his mind and stretch it out like loose cotton. The fiber seems to extend throughout his body, replacing muscle with fluff, and wicking away moisture in his mouth. 

His body moves to meet the craving while the thoughts are still traversing the maze in his head. He pauses for a moment, holding the glass of water, and waits for the next step to reveal itself. Drink. Of course. He gulps down the refreshing liquid. Quickly, greedily.

Coolness rushes in his body, a tide of crisp hydration. Rivulets escape the corners of his mouth, coursing down his chin and neck, before stopping among the blue curls on his chest. Buggy sets down the glass and returns to the nest of pillows, feeling at home with the cushioning.

The water on his body is cold. Then warm. It feels good. His body reacts with goosebumps. His nipples harden. Now that’s all he can think about - two points of tension sending electricity through his soft, fluid body. Buggy closes his eyes and follows the trail, visiting the body parts as they light up. His biceps and shoulders. Fingertips. Ribcage and stomach. Skin held under the tight waistband of his underwear. Thighs under the fabric. Everything that’s encased in the only clothing he has on. 

The signal concentrates in one spot and Buggy’s not sure if he willed that to happen. But it does. He feels the swelling. Movement. Growth. Pulses that flash thoughts in his head. Thoughts of you. It always happens - there’s a connection that Buggy can’t break. The bobbing of his dick easily catches the teasing images swimming through his imagination.

Buggy’s body is heavy. He tries to ignore himself, despite his cock crying for attention. Precum is already seeping into his underwear and smears with each throb. Fuck, it feels good. He still tries to ignore it, though. The fabric dances against the underside of his sensitive head. Buggy bites his lip and indulges for a moment, letting the tension move his erection. Feeling it fight against the fabric before falling with a sticky sound on his pelvis. A sound that he desperately wants to recreate with you. Rubbing and hitting his dripping tip against your flushed cheeks. Across your kiss-bruised lips. On your thighs. 

Body moving faster than his mind once again, Buggy slips a hand - just a hand - under the waistband and drags it along his swollen cock. It’s hot and needy beneath his touch. Moving his hand lower, the pirate cups his heavy balls. Still soft and pliable, they fill his grasp and flow with a gentle massage.

His mind was too focused on touch and forgot to remind the pirate to breathe. Really breathe. A lungful of oxygen reignites the herby air in his body, somehow adding to the haze in his head, rather than clearing it out. Feeling his control fraying, Buggy releases the anchor and floats in the body high. He pulls off his underwear and lets his body meld into the soft sheets and pillows, becoming a part of the environment.

Buggy closes his eyes and looks for you. He’s seen your face flushed from exertion, so it’s easy to reframe the scene and imagine you looking down at him like that. Your sparkling eyes glazing over with lust, redness spreading from your cheeks to your ears, tongue darting out to lick your delicious lips. He thumbs the tip of his cock, swirling the viscous precum around his head in anticipation of the vision of you lowering yourself down.

Frowning in concentration, he thinks about how you’d gasp feeling his flared head enter your body. The way you’d sink down slowly, giving your body time to adjust and to memorize the feel of his member. Buggy drags a loose grasp along his cock, imagining it dragging along your insides. Releasing a shaky breath, he tightens his grip. It’s nothing like how your heat would feel, but it helps him fantasize.

He squeezes down to the base, wanting to be fully sheathed in your body. His cock twitches within the imposed prison, a sensation that would probably have you whine in response. Seeking more, you’d rock your hips and grind. Buggy can’t replicate that, so he adds to the scene instead. Your hands on his chest, holding yourself up. His touch would run up your thighs and to your rolling hips, before reaching around to your ass. He’d grope and squeeze, pulling your asscheeks apart so he feels deeper. So you feel fuller. So full that you have to let out the moans and whimpers you had been holding in.

Buggy fists himself faster. His balls start to tighten and he feels the thread in his body grow taut. You’re amazing. Lovely. You’d feel so good. His foggy head can only focus on directing the manifestation, not on an accompanying script. The words he’d want to say simply come out. Not for him to hear, but to taste. To feel in his mouth, just as he feels you riding him.

“F-fuck, you’re taking it so well. You’re taking me so well.” “You make me feel good, baby.” “I can feel you twitching on m-my cock.” “Tell me how full you feel.” “Fuck, harder p-please.” “Yeah, just like that. Keep going, gonna cum.” “N-no, stop teasing. P-put it back in. Please, please…”

Despite his looming climax, Buggy pulls back and whimpers between gasping breaths. He maintains a hold at the head of his distressed cock. How sinful you’d look like that, with just the tip of his dick stretching you out. Bucking against his hold, Buggy can see how you’d tremble from thrusts that don’t bottom, from a teasing touch that would break you when you give in. And you would. You’d fall to his sweet words and promises.

“I’ll make you feel so good. Don’t you want to cum on my cock?” “Please, I w-want to feel you. I need to feel you squeeze me.” “S’like my dick was made for you.” “Fuck, l-let me put it in, please. Wanna be deep in you.”

He’d wait until you let him. His toes would curl. His breath would hitch. He’d bite his lips. He’d beg. And when you do let him fully thrust into you, you’d fall apart. 

Buggy fucks his fist without abandon, through the climax that would have you shaking on top of his body, crying out for the pleasure overwhelming you. Imaginary pleasure that snaps his own thread, the tension exploding from his cock and all over his hand and stomach. There’s a lot. You’d feel it fill your insides and some would escape with each thrust. Buggy groans as he milks every drop, imagining the pearls that would escape when you pull yourself off of him. As much as he wants you to stay, the vision drifts away until it’s lost in the empty swirling air.

The hot ecstasy in his body also starts to dissipate, leaving behind an uncomfortable emptiness. Buggy uses his discarded underwear to clean up. The still-warm jizz leaves a chill slick as the fabric struggles to soak the sticky liquid. Swallowing his disgust, Buggy scrapes the cloth against himself hard, scrubbing the unwelcome remnants. It’s still not the best cleaning job. He still feels dirty. Scummy, both inside and out.

Buggy drops the soiled clothing onto the floor and reaches towards the side table so he can burn the guilt into ash. Smoke fills his lungs, but not the aching void in his chest. Falling back with a sigh, Buggy tries to replace the hole with promises that are just as empty. Plans to talk to you. To tell you how he feels. To face fear, rather than drown in remorse. Anything to chase away the loneliness he’s surrounded himself with.

Ignoring the sting pricking the corners of his dry eyes, Buggy lets his mind follow the hope until it flies too high and he falls back to sleep.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

A/N: Gonna keep sharing the lines that I particularly like. This time it's "The words he’d want to say simply come out. Not for him to hear, but to taste. To feel in his mouth, just as he feels you riding him."

#buggy smut #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x you #x reader #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #buggy the clown #buggy the clown smut #one piece smut #buggy x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader

[ramp-it-up]

Two Most Wanted Pt. 4...Anytime you Like

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"

Summary: You have your way with Sy. Or is it him having his way with you? 🧐

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, talk of birth control, Graphic sex. Fingering, manual sex (f receiving) oral, Dom Sy is coming out to play, degredation AND praise kink, dirty talk kink, begging, raw p in v, size kink, pleasurable pain, rough sex, copious amounts of bodily fluids, some fluff and just a lil' angst at the end. This is 2.5k of porn with a teeny tiny bit of plot.

Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N:  This is the fourth installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Previous part here

------

Sy gladly let you pull him into your rental.

Then, he took control.

He pushed you against the wall and placed his hands on your waist, bending down because of the height difference, even though you were wearing four inch-heels. You’d missed how tiny he made you feel.

Sy’s mouth was so close to yours as he queried you. His eyes were so intense.

“You’re not done with me yet, eh?”

You pouted and his lips tenderly touched yours, deepening the kiss as you parted your lips. His tongue insisted that you belonged to him and yours agreed, the two dancing passionately.

“Good girl. Opening up for me like that.”

Your head was spinning and you whined in your throat. 

“Hm.” 

Sy grunted and then smiled before he kissed you again. You were glad for the wall as you were weak for him again. 

“Whatcha wanna do with me, Buttercup?”

Sy’s fingers were on your ribcage now, his large hands spanning your torso. Then, his hands were everywhere as he explored your body, from your breasts over your dress, to your back, down to your ass, which he squeezed as his mouth possessed yours again.

“I want to be your cum slut, Sy. Want you inside me.”

Sy stopped moving, resting his forehead on yours and his hands on your hips. He huffed into your face.

“Holy shit, Buttercup. I thought I was calm after what that mouth of yours did in the Bronco. But what that mouth of yours says…”

Sy’s hand was on your jaw and you turned your head to capture his thumb and suck it. 

“Wan’ you to fill me up, Sy.”

You looked him straight in the eye as he pressed the rock hard length in his pants against you. His pupils were blown and you felt enormous power.

“Hm. The thoughts you think, Buttercup.”

Sy examined your face as he questioned you, his blue eyes making you shiver.

“You want me to fuck you raw…?”

You smiled at his lewd suggestion and the gravel in his voice, and lifted your arms, placing them on his shoulders, standing on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. 

“I’m on the pill. And tested regularly. But only if you want to.”

The expression on his face was priceless.

“If I want to? Hell, Buttercup. I’ve wanted this for 20 years. Jesus, it's really happening.”

He looked as if he would devour you.

An unexpected joy at his want caused a giggle to bubble up in your throat as Sy rolled you around the corner, further into the room, and started trailing kisses down your jaw to your neck right below your ear. His hand was on your ass as you started to grind on air. He remembered your spot.

“Fuck, Sy!”

His other hand came up around your neck and tightened to let you know who was in charge, and you whimpered as he looked down at you and grinned.

You pouted at him, frustrated because you wanted to feel all of the things at once.

Sy’s hands roamed, finding your waist again and lifting your feet off the ground as he kissed you, making you heated at the show of his power. He set you down again, squeezing your breasts and sucking the tops of them in your dress as you writhed in his grip. 

“Let me see you in the light, Buttercup.”

He reached around and wasted no time in pushing his shirt off your shoulders and unzipping your dress to let it fall to the floor.

Sy stepped back and took all of you in. You felt like a piece of art as he studied you. You concentrated on not covering up. 

This was a long time in coming.

“Damn, Buttercup. You’re so beautiful. All of you. Better’n my dreams.”

Sy looked into your eyes after taking in your curves. Hungry.

“Kiss me, Sy.”

He did as you asked, hands on your breasts now, kneading them and weighing them in his hands, his thumbs thrumming you like an instrument. He kissed you fiercely, then looked into your eyes again as he slid down to inhale you, mouth sliding over your flesh, between, underneath, on top, and finally, sucking your nipples into his mouth with abandon.

You moaned as your pussy pulsed with need.

“Sy…please…”

“Don’t rush me now, baby. I’m gonna savor this.”

He kissed you again, and then slid his hand down your torso to your pussy, finding you still so wet for him.

“Hm. Such a good girl, with such a good pussy. Here. See.”

He held your gaze as he brought his fingers up and put them into your mouth, making you taste yourself.

It was so dirty that you practically came from the taste of your desire for Jacob Syverson. 

“Thaaaat’s a girl. Get ‘em even wetter.”

He removed his hand and brought it back down to your cunt.

“I want you to cum for me. Right now.”

“S-Yyyyyyy!”

Most of his fingers went inside you while his thumb stroked your clit. He practically lifted you off the ground as he fucked you with his hand, watching your face as he alternated marking you up and sucking your nipples hard.

“So fuckin’ hot, Buttercup. Good girl.”

His voice was doing things to you. Sy grinned and his eyebrow arched as he felt you clench on his fingers. He brought his mouth close to your ear.

“Which is it, Buttercup? Are you a cum slut, or a good girl?”

Your head went back into the wall as you moaned, baring your throat to him again.

“Or is it both? Are you my good little cum slut?”

“Oh my fucking godddddd!!!!”

You came in his arms and Sy watched you, his mouth open in awe. He couldn’t wait anymore.

He picked you up and carried you into the bedroom, dropping you on the bed as he took off his shoes and clothes. You sat up to look at him.

He was massive. Sy had matured from a lithe youth to a grown man and he was thick all over. The curls on his head continued on his face and on his chest, a dark rush of it pointing down to his cock, which you knew was big, because you’d tried to swallow it earlier. But seeing it like this, hard and throbbing, curved against his hairy stomach, large mushroom tip leaking, thick shaft throbbing, made you lean back with your legs open. 

‘I want that,’ you thought.

Sy took it in his hand and started stroking, causing precum to drip out and you to lick your lips.

“You’re about to get it, Buttercup. Anything you want. Look so fucking beautiful all laid out for me.”

You smiled as you realized you’d said that out loud and you opened your legs wider as he climbed between them. He handled you like a rag doll as he grabbed your thighs and pulled you closer to his legs as he knelt on the bed. He grabbed your knees and spread your legs up and apart as his long thick cock slid in between your legs, smearing your wetness all along the underside of his shaft.

“Mmmmmmmm, Sy, want more.”

He was skating in your slick, driving you wild with the tease of the cap of his cock catching on your clit as he moved back and forth.

“Patience, Buttercup. Need to lube myself up with your cream.”

Sy was enjoying how wet you were and the fact that he was actually between your legs after all this time. He watched, almost mesmerized, at his cock moving through your folds, and his dick jumped, slapping you on the clit and making you moan.

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease… OH shitttt. It’s too much!”

You’d gone from begging for his dick to pleading for mercy as his thick head breached you. You stared at Sy wide eyed as he grabbed his shaft and stopped moving. His heart clenched at the thought of hurting you.

“You good? Want me to…”

He made to pull out and then you implored him.

“No! I mean, it’s so big, Sy… but I want it. Need. It.”

You grabbed your breasts as you felt him cock jump within you.

“More, please.”

“Mmmmmmoooooahhhh,” Sy groaned deeply as he slowly eased into you and at the vision of you pulling your own nipples as he stretched out your soul. 

He bottomed out and licked your exposed neck, causing you to shudder in his hands, which were gripping your ribcage. You looked like sin and felt like heaven around him. 

“You good, Buttercup? Please say you’re good. I need you to be good, baby. ‘Cause I need to fuck you so bad….”

Sy was panting and his heartbeat was erratic.

As always, his words made you gush wetness and you arched as you kissed him, laying down fully and bringing your hands to his short curls.

“I’m good Sy,” you looked him in the eyes. “So fucking good, all full of you. Fuck me. Please… ah!”

As soon as you said ‘fuck me,’ Sy started moving slowly, dragging sparks with with each millimeter of movement inside you.

“More…”

You whispered it as all of your senses came alive and were overwhelming you. 

Sy sped up and looked from your eyes to his cock destroying your pussy. He couldn’t focus on one thing for too long, your face, your hair splayed out beneath you, hour breasts with nipples erect and bouncing, the way he was moving you like a doll as he helped himself deliver the dick to your pussy.

“Good god Buttercup. This cunt is so tight and wet and hot for me. Shit, you stretched around me is so much better than my imagination….”

“Ooooh. Sy. Feels so…Your cock goes so deep.”

It had never been like this before. With anyone.

Sy gave you a mischievous grin as he leaned back and grabbed your knees, bringing them up and bending you in half so that he could plunge even deeper inside you.

Your head shot up to witness him ravaging you as he slowly fucked you with long and deep strokes. You dug your nails into his forearms, holding on for dear life. He fucked you so good that you gouged scratches down his arm and the pain sparked a new pleasure in him that he didn’t know he needed at the moment.

He was inspired to fuck you better, faster, harder.

Sy reached up behind your head and pulled it down by the thick curls at your nape as he leaned over you, caging you in with his massive body as he thoroughly and soundly tried to put you under the bed.

Your belly tightened, your insides in a vice grip of pleasure as you tried to run. There was nowhere to go, however, as Sy was all around you. He felt you tense up, heard your whimper and kept a steady pace, his balls tight against him, the notion of making you cum with just his cock a long held ideal.

“What’s wrong Buttercup?”  

He looked you in the eyes before he kissed your lips.

“Afraid to let go? Don’t want to let me have the cum I’ve been waiting for?”

“Unh! Sy…”

You felt him in your belly, thick in your channel like he was made of you. You knew what was about to happen. And you wanted to get away from it.

Sy read the look on your face.

“Unh unh. You’re going to stay and take my cock like a woman. Not gonna run. You’re gonna take this orgasm, gimme your cum like I deserve it.”

Sy didn’t let up on the intensity, but he looked down and surveyed what he was doing to you.

“Look at all that beautiful cream. Looks so fucking good. Making me drool.”

You had an out of body experience as you watched the saliva leave Sy’s mouth and drip onto your clit and as soon as it made contact, you came, gushing more fluid in between you two.

Sy pounded you through it for a few thrusts, then he pulled out and rushed to collect some of you on his tongue.

“Goddamn. So fucking good, Buttercup. Taste yourself.”

He was up again and before you could protest, was back inside you, hand on your throat as he kissed you hard and deep, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as his resolute pounding and the taste of your cum combined. He trailed his hand down your neck to your breast, rolling your nipple for a second before finding your hand and holding it above your head as he looked into your eyes. 

Suddenly, he became tender, looking as if he was about to say something that you didn’t want to hear, so your other hand found his ass as you encouraged him to find his own end.

“Gimme your cum, Sy. You owe me. Some. Cum.”

He licked his lips at the filth you were uttering and responded in kind.

“Anything you want, Buttercup. I’ve got so much, you’ll be leaking for days.”

You arched your back and bit your lip at his words and as the music of skin slapping on skin intensified. You felt yourself tighten impossibly around him again. And so did Sy.

“Oh…. no….” 

You felt as if you couldn’t take another, but Sy wasn’t done with you yet.

“Oh, yes, baby. Just give me one… more….”

Sy’s thumb found your clit and as you came around him, he emptied all he had inside you.

“You feel like…like heaven, Buttercup.”

Your hands were on his face as you watched his ecstasy and as he pumped more and more of his seed inside you. You smiled and kissed his forehead as his head bent in exhaustion. You wanted to say that he was beautiful, but that would be more than you wanted to convey. You just kissed his lips when he looked back up at you again, and you collapsed on your sides, your bodily fluids between you and his slowly softening cock still inside you.

Sy pushed your hair back from around your sweaty face.

“Look, Buttercup, I know that you are holding back. But you can’t stop me from saying it again.”

“Sy-”

“Shhhh, Buttercup.”

Sy smiled. Handsome wasn’t the word.

“I love you. ‘Til the day I die.”

He brought your hand up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles.

“I know you’re still trying to process everything, and I can only imagine all of the things that are going on in that beautiful brain of yours, but you’re mine. I’m claiming you. Whether it's for the rest of our lives, or just for this weekend.”

You just looked at him and nodded, emotional and unable to speak.

“Just want you to know where I stand. This wasn’t just notalgia sex.”

He slipped out of you and rolled over on his back before he got up and headed toward the bathroom.

“And for whatever time period I have you, I’m yours. Anytime you like, Buttercup.”

He looked back at you with a saucy grin as he caught you ogling his ass.

You stared at the ceiling as you listened to him turn on the water. There was a lot going on in your head, but Sy had just told you that he wanted you and simultaneously taken the pressure off this weekend.

You thought about what you wanted. And what you wanted was currently taking a shower. You walked into the bathroom to have some more of him. You opened the shower door and Sy reached out and pulled you in.

“Get in here Buttercup, the water’s fine.”

That grin would do you in.

——

Hit Reblog if you like it!

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #captain syverson #captain sy x reader #captain syverson fanfiction #syverson fanfiction #syverson x reader #syverson smut #captain syverson smut #syverson fluff #cpt syverson #Syverson #Syverson angst #Syverson x black!reader #Syverson au #Sy x Buttercup #Henry cavill x reader #Henry cavill smut #ii most wanted #ii most wanted au #ii most wanted fic #writeblr #amwriting #am writing

[justmediocrewriting]

“Messy,” {r.z}

A/n: and the second installment of the dialogue prompts, this time featuring our beefy mosshead ;) this is only the second part, I’ve got 10 more to make, and I’m already having the time of my life. I hope you guys enjoy this one!

Warnings/tags: explicit sexual content, irrumatio, rough!zoro, lots of bodily fluids (spit, cum, juices, sweat, etc), deepthroating, dirty talk, explicit language, cock worship, d/s undertones, slight dumbification, outdoor sex, semi-public sex, Zoro really likes to pull hair, 100 follower NSFW dialogue prompt special

Genre: smut

Pairing: Zoro x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Prompt: “Don’t make a mess, baby.” (#2 on the list)

{{:================================:}}

“You’re so fuckin’ messy.”

Zoro’s statement from above you was punctuated by a stinging in your scalp when he used his grip in your hair as leverage to repeatedly fuck his cock deeper into your throat, spreading open the walls of your esophagus as if he didn’t care that you were on the brink of blacking out from poor oxygen intake. The chill of the evening air slightly cooled your heated skin, but it did nothing to douse the flame of arousal burning hot in your gut, and the fresh air didn’t clear the fog from your head either — it was impossible to think clearly or feel anything other than fiery arousal when Zoro was using you like this.

You moaned around his thick cock, eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head from the heady taste of salt in your mouth. Your nose was clogged with the scent of Zoro, so much so that the minute breaths you could pull through it were saturated with the scent of sweat and sword oil, a mixture that you had come to define as unique to the swordsman, and it was so mouthwatering, almost as much as the cock in your throat.

“You’re fuckin’ droolin’ all over my cock. You like it when I fuck your little throat like this?”

Zoro’s hips snapped at a rapid pace, the weight of his balls slapping against your chin as each rough thrust landed him buried to the hilt in your throat. The velocity of his thrusts left little room for recovery in between, your head already light and floaty from the deprivation of oxygen, so you barely even registered the fact that spittle and drool was currently being fucked out of your mouth and plopping down onto the deck. But Zoro noticed, and that visual combined with your glazed over eyes looking up at him as if his cock was the best thing you’d ever tasted, as well as the wet glide the copious amounts of liquid granted, sent him into a near-feral frenzy.

Zoro knew you couldn’t answer him, but his filthy questions never stopped, lips dropping a litany of abrasive verbal abuses as his pace never faltered, cock drilling into your mouth almost painfully.

“You were made for this, weren’t you? Made to take my cock down your fuckin’ throat.”

“Fuckin’ look at you. All fucked out just from this. I bet you’d love this cock in your pussy right now, wouldn’t you?”

“Fuckin’ take it, baby.”

Every single word rumbled by that deep voice sent heat flaring straight down to your core, your clit throbbing in time with your rapid heartbeat as your pussy clenched around nothing — Zoro’s comment about you wanting his thick cock in your pussy wasn’t too far off the mark. No matter how many times he fucked your holes they never truly adjusted to the stretch of his massive cock, the slight discomfort of it offering you a euphoria that previous partners had never managed to touch. Of course you’d love to have Zoro’s cock in your pussy… but this right now, the smooth glide of his cock across your tongue and the intrusion of his length in your throat… there was nothing that could beat that at the moment.

Zoro’s hips stuttered and his cock twitched on a particularly rough thrust, momentarily hardening even further within your mouth. Excitement and anticipation clawed up your spine, because you knew what that meant — Zoro was close, and soon enough he would be rewarding you with a stream of hot, salty cum straight down your throat.

“Fuck, your mouth is gonna make me fuckin’ cum. Fuckin’ touch yourself, baby. Rub that pretty pussy while I fuck your face.”

Your hand dropped down immediately to comply with Zoro's order, your pussy more than welcoming the touch when you shoved your fingers past the confines of your panties and promptly shoved two of your fingers inside. They slid in without any resistance, your walls wet and mushy from arousal, and you set a rapid pace to match with Zoro’s. It wasn’t the same as Zoro’s cock, but the stimulation of your mouth and cunt being filled cinched your gut with hot arousal, and with just a few well timed curls that familiar coil formed.

The deck became home to a symphony of muffled moans, grunts, squelching and filthy curses, orchestrated by the act Zoro and yourself were partaking in — there was a risk that came with this, one that would be hard to recover from, as anyone could walk out at any point to find Zoro’s cock buried in your throat. But somehow, that risk only made the coil wind tighter, the edge of danger adding an enticing amount of lewdness to everything.

Zoro’s words faded into mere grunts and groans, and his thrusts became even faster, sloppier, his hand in your hair tightening and moving your head in a contrasting rhythm than that of his hips — he was close, his cock throbbing and twitching with every rough thrust into your throat, and you pulled your fingers out of your cunt to harshly rub your clit with as much velocity as you could muster within the confines of your pants and underwear. You wanted to cum when Zoro did, so you could feel that euphoria of an orgasm at the same time.

“Fuck, fuck, here it comes. Don’t make a mess, baby; swallow every fuckin’ drop.” Zoro growled, hips reaching a peak speed before slowing to a near stop, your nose pressed into the pubic hair just above Zoro’s cock as he buried himself as deep as possible.

Your throat constricted around his cock as you gagged, your brain screaming at you to pull back as your ability to breathe was stolen from you, but Zoro held your head in place with a firm hand as his cock twitched once, twice, then throbbed heavily as ropes of cum splashed against the walls of your throat.

“Shit,” Zoro breathed, the curse being dragged out and completely drenched with pleasure. “Fuckin’ — yes, fuck, take it all.”

Zoro’s hips moved in small thrusts as he rode out the rest of his orgasm, saltiness bursting over your tongue as droplets of his spent smeared over it with each little buck. You drank down the remnants fervently, sore throat constricting pleasantly with every swallow, and when Zoro pulled his cock out and demanded you to open so he could make sure you swallowed everything, you did so without hesitation.

“Fuck, that’s my good girl. Did you cum, baby?” Zoro ground out, his dick beginning to soften slightly in the aftermath of his orgasm.

With a start you realized that no, you hadn’t. You’d been so wrapped up in the sensation of Zoro’s come sliding down your throat that your fingers had completely stopped moving. You gave a small shake of your head. Zoro reached a hand down and stroked his thumb over your lips, his own quirking up into a devilish smirk.

“We’ll have to fix that baby. You did so good, and you deserve a reward. Get on your fuckin’ hands and knees and let me fuck you ‘til you can’t take it anymore.”

{{:================================:}}

I probably should have clarified this in the first installment of the series, but these prompts won’t be written/posted in numerical order. My brain does really have the focus to do it that way, so whichever prompt offers me the most motivation is the one I’m going to write. I hope you all enjoyed this one, because I sure did ;))

#opla #opla x reader #one piece live action #opla zoro #opla zoro x reader

[cream-stew]

bodyguard!dottore with afab!reader who lost their composure whenever dottore’s around and eventually snapped and confessed n it turns heated and all..

🔞 minors dni

warnings: reader wears lingerie, creampie

// note: I don't actually know much about bodyguard au tropes, I hope this was good enough anon✌️

a crowd is waiting for you at the entrance of the hotel, and you almost risk getting stuck in there for hours. it's only thanks to your loyal bodyguard that you can escape, letting him drag you all the way through the hall and into the elevator. you love it when dottore manhandles you like that... you've been having very unprofessional feelings towards him for a while now, but tonight you just can't hold back.

you grab the lapels of his jacket and tell him exactly what you feel. you have a crush on him, you want to get to know him outside of his job. you want to have sex with him right this instant. he seems pleased to hear that, grinning and caging you in between his chest and the elevator's wall as he leans in. he kisses you breathless until the elevator stops, and you whine when you have to part, but you feel very pleased with yourself when he follows you into your suite.

you two immediately make your way to the king sized bed in the middle of the room, shedding your clothes on the way, but you stop before you can pull down your underwear. you're wearing very cute lingerie, maybe he can appreciate it for a while before you strip completely.

and you were right, bc he's obsessed with it. he presses you down on the bed and fondles your tits through the expensive bra you're wearing, your nipples hardening and poking out from beneath the white silk. his hands trail down to your lace corset, then to the flimsy belt that's holding up your thigh highs, then to your panties. he moves them aside to immediately press his cock against your pussy lips, rubbing it in between your folds for what feels like an eternity, and you beg him to stop teasing. "I want it, please-! please, I need more-!!", you babble, your hands reaching down to stroke his fat cock and try to line it up to your entrance, and dottore lets you do it. you lead him into breaching you in a single thrust, but when you'd imagined he'd make you beg again just to start moving, he actually needs no encouragement. his cock drives in and out of you with incredible strength, making your pussy gush a copious amount of fluids, and when you start being way too loud he sticks two of his fingers inside your mouth, so you can suck on them to keep quiet.

he fucks you through two incredible orgasms, easily giving you the best sex of your life, so it's only fair that you give him a perfect orgasm too, letting him cum deep inside your pussy and keeping you plugged for the better part of the night.

#genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #dottore x reader #dottore smut

[caesarinsalata]

*Ahem*

Uh... So....how about a Part 2?

(I literally accidentally just shat out the next part in the same day 🤣💦)

PART 2

A few days later

“He should be awake by now…”

“Just give him time. Losing a limb is a lot of stress for a small kid.”

“We could only do so much using alchemy, so we'll just have to see when he wakes up.”

“I think I saw him move!”

Edward’s body was so heavy like something was sitting on his chest. His eyes fluttered open as he groaned and made an attempt at sitting up.

“Ed don't move!”

Too late. The moment his muscles strained against his weight, a shockwave of sharp stabbing quickly struck from his stump up through his hip. A yelp caught in his throat as his upper body slammed back down onto the mattress.

“He's going to need more herbs… go transmute some more numbing agent.”

His breathing was shaky. Before he could reach for his wrapped limb, someone grabbed his wrist to stop him. Another stab of pain followed by a deep pulsing sensation assaulted him before he could look to see who it was.

“Who-?”

“You mustn't touch it.”

“Wha-?” Opting to attempt just lifting his head this time, Ed craned his neck to look down at his lower half.

“My….my leg…”. A hitched hiccuping sound came out of Ed's mouth as his eyes grew wide again. He thought it was all a sick trick of the mind or nightmare of some kind. This can't be real! It's gone! Where is it??

“Where is my leg?!” Whipping his head back, Ed shouted and threw a tantrum, the pain getting unbearable as he tossed his limbs around. Blood seeping through the dressings.

“Edward! Ed, stop! You're hurting yourself!”

“Give it back, damn it! My leg! Where is it?!”

Everyone in the room had to hold him down. Unfortunately someone had to put pressure on his upper thigh to stop the wounded limb from being damaged further. The pressure shot another, more intense, bold of pain through him and he wailed.

Shortly after he ran out of air to scream with, the pain became too much and he passed out again. Everyone sighed.

“It's better if he stays asleep for now…”

“I've got the medicine!”

“Hurry and bring it over, we might have to reseal his wound. He threw a fit and about gave himself a head injury.”

Inspecting and redressing his stump, they gave him the numbing agent that should also help with keeping him asleep for a few more hours.

“Why can't we see him!”

“Kids, please, I know it may seem unfair, but he needs to rest. Any more stress and it'll never heal.”

“But brother is all alone in there! He needs someone there when he wakes up!”

“The alchemists that specialize in healing abilities are doing what they can. You have to be patient. You'll just be in the way. I'm sorry…”

Hohenheim was doing everything in his power to keep Al and Winry from barging into Ed's room. It was the boys’ room, but they needed a solitary area for Ed's recovery. Al was moved into Winry's room, when she visited, mainly for moral support.

The kids pouted and were about to cry for the fifth time today and that wasn’t counting the amount of fluids they collectively lost on the day of the incident.

They didn't know what to make of the sounds heard from the throne room. First it was just yelling. The most jarring part of the whole thing was a moment of silence then all they could hear was the scream of pure agony bouncing off the stone walls. Before they could escape the library/play room to even see what it was, Trisha, Ed and Al’s mother, came running in to check on them, not knowing where the scream was coming from.

She had held them as they all shook at the sound of what they believed was Hohenheim letting out a cry and then running by the archway. The curtain in the doorway fluttered at his speed and all the three of them could see was an adult man carrying someone and nothing but blood following after him. An unnerving copious amount of it. Al and Winry didn't register who or what it was until Trisha gasped. In that split second, she could make out an unconscious Ed in Hohenheim's arms.

“Edward…?”

Then it began to make sense to them. Who else could that scream have come from? And Hohenheim looking out of his mind and frantic only meant one thing. Edward was hurt. Bad. Trisha didn't want the kids to see anything so she held onto them as she closed her eyes. Al and Winry couldn't help but stare at the stream of blood creeping in from under the curtain between the stone floor seams.

Needless to say, everyone was traumatized that day, but they didn't appreciate not being able to see Ed to make sure he was actually alive. The only thing they could go on was the kicking and screaming from Ed's room a minute ago. But it was quiet now.

“I hope my brother is okay…”

“He'll be okay, Al… He's too stubborn to die.”

They both looked at each other ready to cry again.

#my doodles #fma #fullmetal alchemist #edward elric #doodles #my art #freckles #drawing prompt #fma art #fma fanart #xerxes au #van hohenheim #winry rockbell #alphonse elric #angst #i do feel good about this one

[genshinnrambles]

[4.1] The Primordial Sea Pt. 2: Creation as the Key to Sin

EDIT (1/20/2024): to you, reader of the future, past me was very very wrong about this theory! like, misunderstood the lore levels of wrong. so take this post as fanfic if nothing else, it is not correct especially in the understanding of how imagination played into Caterpillar’s creation. Sorry for the blunder!

In 4.0, I wrote two theories: one was a short speculative theory on the nature of the Primordial Sea, and the second was a theory about Rhinedottir and the reason she is considered a “sinner.” With 4.1’s release, including the Archon Quest and the world quest Unfinished Comedy, I believe there is now enough information for a short follow-up theory that synthesizes them and makes one more attempt to understand 1) what it means to be a “sinner” in Teyvat, and 2) what it means to be “born with sin.”

SPOILERS: Fontaine Archon Quest up to the end of Act IV, Ancient Colors, and some dialogue from the end of Unfinished Comedy, which is a world quest with the NPC Caterpillar in the Fortress of Meropide. You have been warned!

edit: please excuse some formatting errors I’ve noticed that are only visible on mobile with some of the bulleted lists. on web, the post seems to be okay. I will fix these asap!

First I’d like to summarize the two previous theories and their main findings/points. They’re linked above if you’d like to read them in full, but it’s not necessary to follow the rest of this post.

In the Primordial Sea theory, I theorized that it could be either of these two things:

The blood of some higher being.

Who: Either Nibelung or the first Hydro Sovereign, based on the weapon ascension material lore from Fontaine

Why: 

The copious End of Evangelion references in the Fontaine AQ, including how Primordial Seawater behaves so similarly to LCL, which is the blood of Lilith, who is the progenitor of humanity in Evangelion

Several life forms in Genshin have arisen from a higher being’s blood too such as the Melusine and the Jinn (technically, in the latter’s case).

The “water” in Elynas is described as “blood” by Jakob, a very peculiar description given all of the above

The amniotic fluid of the egg that hatched the Primordial One

Why: Idk man it just seemed like a possibility at the time.

Needless to say, as time goes on I’m more convinced that it’s likely the first option, blood. I have even more reasons beyond the above to believe so, but they will be outlined in another theory I’m working on right now about the Urstone in Yoimiya’s second story quest.

In the theory about Rhinedottir and the meaning of “sin,” I used Sigmund Freud’s psychoanalytic theory of dream interpretation as a framework to understand how Rhinedottir is “positioned,” so to speak, as an alchemist and creator of life. In summary:

Freud thought the psychological significance of dreams was to fulfill wishes that we haven’t fulfilled either because we have repressed them into the unconscious or cannot fulfill them in real life for one reason or another

He thought that the reason we dream is that the “wish” is attempting to be remembered and acknowledged by our ego – the dream is produced as the wish tries to cross the boundary between the conscious and the unconscious (and this boundary is “where” dreams occur)

A wish is, in essence, a thought – and dreams are the translation of a thought into images.

With this analogy in mind, here is how Rhinedottir and her dragon children fit into it:

Teyvat and everything under the rule of the Seven is the conscious/ego

The Abyss and everything outside of the rule of the Seven is the unconscious

Elynas and Durin and all of their unnamed siblings are repressed/unfulfilled wishes. A direct reference to this is actually made in the lore text for Festering Desire, where Rhinedottir does seem to explicitly refer to them as unfulfilled wishes.

Rhinedottir, then, is the “dreamer,” because she translates these “thoughts” into “images” with the power of alchemy.

The reason that this makes Rhinedottir a “sinner” is because “sinning” and “dreaming” have a pre-existing association in Genshin. An example would be the Sinshades of Tokoyo, which are afterimages of the strong emotions of Enkanomiya’s former citizens.

Freud believed these “strong emotions” are what underlie an unfulfilled wish.

The “afterimage” is a translation of the “thought” or “strong emotion” that Istaroth preserved into something with “form.” 

Just like a dream (if you exclude daydreams, I suppose) only happens at night, when the “censorship” that protects our ego from repressed thoughts is weakest, the Sinshades only appear during Evernight when the Hyperion sun is extinguished.

I largely stand by everything in these two theories still, but I think what Rhinedottir theory fails to do in its current state is make clear that sinning is about more than just "dreaming," but creating life.

The Meaning of Sin: Imagination

Caterpillar, the NPC who exists somewhere between the boundary of human and Hilichurl, has something very interesting to say at the end of Unfinished Comedy when we ask him about his master, Rene (who he calls “Narzissenkreuz”), and whether or not Rene “created” him:

Caterpillar: Also, it is not quite correct to say that he "created me." Traveler: How so? Caterpillar: Creation is a feat for a god... If we may call the one above a "god." Caterpillar: In the tenets of Narzissenkreuz, do you know what is most critical in creating someone? Paimon: What is it? Caterpillar: It's imagination. Imagining a person, down to the last detail, akin to an Oceanid imagining a creature in the wild. Caterpillar: There's a story that tells of a powerful mage-priest imagining his own son, only to realize he himself was the product of someone else's imagination.

Now, I cannot emphasize enough how huge this dialogue is for solving the Archon Quest’s mystery. “Imagination” is the key – it is, at its core, just like the process of dreaming: translating thoughts into images. The only difference is that dreaming is an unconscious process that happens when we’re asleep, while using your imagination is an active, conscious process.

The other key is that creation is a feat for a god, so if someone usurps that power, they have “sinned.” Creation is so closely related here and in general to using your imagination and dreaming, translating thoughts into images and giving them “forms,” so to be “born with sin,” I think, can’t be anything short of this: being created with a power that does not “belong” to your creator.

So, let’s think about the Primordial Sea again and the prophecy: the Primordial Sea is supposed to be the origin of all life forms, and just as it gave rise to them, it will someday devour them again and cleanse their sins. If Fontainians are the only ones who dissolve when they touch Primordial Seawater, then this origin from the Primordial Sea is either so diluted in other humans in Teyvat as to be inconsequential, OR this origin is truly unique to Fontainians alone. In other words, the specific way that Fontainians were created is fundamentally different from how other humans in Teyvat were created. They were created by a power that was “usurped,” meaning that their creator is not a "true god," if we go off what Caterpillar said.

At the end of Act IV, Neuvillette uses what remains of his Authority of Hydro to push back the Primordial Sea and overrule its imminent sentencing, if only temporarily. Now, I’m still very hesitant to say that this Primordial Sea/Blood belongs to the former Hydro Sovereign Scylla, if only because it seems that Scylla and the God-King Remus went to the Primordial Sea together in the Broken Goblet of the Pristine Sea lore. Otherwise, Scylla is kinda the prime suspect here.

But to be honest, I think I was also wrong to say the Primordial Sea only ever had one “origin,” though I do think even more so now that one of those origins is a Sovereign (whether that’s Scylla or Nibelung [hmmmmmmm] or whoever). What I missed from the weapon ascension material lore is the allusion that the primordial sea is a mixture of both pure water and “ichor.” It seems that what Remus, the Usurper-King, used to create his kingdom was the ichor:

“Combining the immortal stone with the Ichor essence extracted from primordial water, and carved into a race as black as iron— with arcane lithos for skin and Ichor for blood, never again fearing the curse of returning to the primeval past…” –Wine Goblet of the Pristine Sea

And that ichor that Remus extracted is likely abyssal in nature too. This is clear from the effects of Sinthe on people who ingest it - euphoria, difficulty controlling emotions, similar to getting drunk (which, yes, its namesake is likely Absinthe). As said in A Drunkard’s Tale: "What you humans call wine, we wolves call the abyss."

This also ties back to Rhinedottir and how she created her dragons. The “medium” that Rhinedottir uses to “dream” is her alchemy, and the ingredients she used seems to have been abyssal in nature as well, hence the special “blood” or “ichor” that ran through both Durin and Elynas’ veins. 

The Pure Water is likely what makes the Primordial Sea respond to Neuvillette’s authority, the “dragon” part of the Primordial Sea. So what’s up with the Abyss likely being in there too? What’s really going on here, and how is it connected with the whale?

I’m especially curious about this bit from Golden Bird’s Shedding:

“It was at this very moment that the golden era suddenly ceased, plunging down into ceaseless war and rebellion. The throne chamber was filled with cries of conquest and destruction and the agony of the barbarian tribes, and the God King awoke, startled.”

…because that sounds an awful lot like Deshret “waking up” amidst the wars in Gurabad, especially this short excerpt from Staff of the Scarlet Sands:

“"The Sand King sleeps alone in secret dreams, drawing up new theorems." "None shall have to drink salt water in the King's realm, for everything in the new world shall be good." 

Did Remus find Forbidden Knowledge too? And if so…where/how?

I said this was going to be short, so I’m gonna wrap things up here despite there being more rabbit holes to go down. But I think this is it - the bearer of the “original sin,” the original sinner of Fontaine if you will, was likely Remus, who usurped the power of creation. This is the only reason that I can think Fontainians are different from other humans in Teyvat . One last thing to note is that, from the Wine Goblet of the Pristine Sea, it does sound like the prophecy predates even Remuria itself and that Remus was trying to transcend that fate by creating his golems. Maybe Remus even first heard of this prophecy from Scylla when they went to the sea together. This is why I'm trying to be so specific - he was the first to try and transcend this fated end in Fontaine.

As for how or why these “sins” persist, why or how they keep being reborn after the great flood reclaims the "ichor" that was stolen from it....I think only the Golden Troupe and Rene de Petrichor knew. 

On the bright side, let’s say everybody gets dissolved in the finale of Act V and Furina really is the only one left, weeping on her throne: as long as she remembers everyone, can imagine them down to the last detail, she should be able to bring everyone back. But if it goes that way, the cycle would probably just repeat. Surely she has another plan?

Anyway, thanks for reading! If you have a different take I’d also be happy to hear it, as this doesn't come close to covering everything and I'm sure there's still a lot of holes re: Remurian civilization details.

#genshin impact #genshin lore #genshin meta #genshin impact lore #genshin impact meta #genshin theory #fontaine lore #primordial sea #rhinedottir #hydro sovereign #remuria #narzissenkreuz #theory

[cyberrat]

81st Batch Of Fics: 7th Fill

Adam/Lucifer – Part 2/2 – degradation; sub!Adam/dom!Lucifer – Now it's Lucifer's turn to grab the bull by his horns and take him for a ride :)

---

The satisfaction Lucifer gains from the knowledge that Adam has become one of Valentino’s bitches is something that should not be underestimated. The only thing that would have been even sweeter would have been if he had gotten that contract under his belt before the moth.

Adam is already in the room as he thrusts open the door. In fact, he is lying on the bed, his robes rucked up to his belly, jerking off with a truly impressive anger.

He taps his staff against the door behind himself, as Adam seems not to have noticed his entry. “Knock knock!”

Adam jerks his hand off his swollen cock as if burned. “Holy f…UCK!” he exclaims, the expletive becoming more pronounced as he looks over and recognizes Lucifer standing there. “What the… what the actual fuck?! What is wrong with you and your fucking family, huh?! Are you here to torment me personally? Is that it? Fuuuck!”

Lucifer cocks his head slightly, a confused smile on his face.

“Beg your pardon?” He comes closer as he speaks, gently putting his cane at the side of the bed and shrugging out of his jacket, eyes never leaving the sight of the now demon Adam. He looks absolutely delicious. Nice and sturdy and with a pair of impish horns that are just made to be used as reigns…

“Your damn daughter was here just like… minutes ago? Did you not see her? The fuck-”

Lucifer chuckles. “Ah… the apple truly doesn’t fall far,” he murmurs, tail slowly lashing behind him with eager anticipation. “If she’s been here, I don’t need to tell you what I’m here for, then. You look ready enough, boy.”

Adam’s anger suddenly falters at that, his eyes flicking from watching Lucifer’s hands work with his belt, up to his face to just stare at him, stunned at being called ‘boy’ by him.

Lucifer wanders what is going on inside his head as he crawls onto the bed, his tail swishing behind him and his horns slowly emerging as he gets excited about what he is going to do. He has been thinking about this for… so long.

And all Adam is doing now is stare at him with his eyes wide open and his mouth in a little dumb ‘o’. Like he can’t believe this is what is going to happen. Like he can’t fathom that Lucifer would take him after he’s taken both of his wives already.

He grunts low and pained when he’s flipped over and his angry erection crushed between his soft belly and the mattress.

It does get him to wake up from his stupor, though, it seems.

“Hey… hey wait a second!” he exclaims, voice trembling with nerves as Lucifer pulls his hips up in the air and slots in behind him. He drags his cock along the crack of his ass, a copious amount of fluid dripping from the tip and getting everything nice and wet. “You can’t be for real,” Adam whines. “Can’t we talk about this? Like… like face-to-face?”

“Oh? You want to look at me while I fuck you?” Lucifer croons, one hand curling around the thick base of one of Adam’s horns, making him turn his head so they can peer at each other like that. His cock is now nudging against his tight hole; just playfully pushing and threatening with sliding in nice and deep. “Sounds kind of gay, not gonna lie,” he sing-songs.

Adam’s mouth opens a bit wider. He looks absolutely stunned again before stuttering: “No! I don’t want to look at you, I want you to not-”

“Well then everything’s just dandy, isn’t it?” Lucifer interrupts him with a broad grin as he pushes forward, forcing Adam’s muscle to spread apart for his slippery cock. The silence that follows is loud, but doesn’t take for long. Not at all. Not when Adam is so fucking tight that Lucifer can’t help the low gurgling groan bubbling from him chest deep.

“Fuck… fuck, you feel like a virgin,” he grits through his teeth. As his words register, Adam’s hole screws even tighter around his cock, holding him in a strangle grip that is borderline painful.

He can hear the moment he finally regains the use of his own lungs. He exhales forcefully, claws digging into the bedding. “Sh-shit-” Adam whispers. The muscles in his back are trembling as far as Lucifer can see. He grabs the robe he is wearing and pushes it up even higher. He needs to see more of this. He needs to see everything.

His tail is lashing behind him, betraying how much he loves this moment of utter dominance over this man.

“Shit… fuck,” Adam says again, his voice a bit louder but also more whiney. Lucifer’s sharp toothed grin widens. He slowly pulls back, watching how his cock emerges nice and glittering with wetness before he slowly moves back in. Adam gurgles on his dick and arches his back like a pro.

“Hey, if I weren’t like… 99 percent sure you’ve never done this before, I’d say you’re a fucking pro at this, my guy. You’ve been holding out on us? You’ve been secretly fingering yourself all this time or something?”

He starts up a rhythm; nice and loose-hipped and easy, the hand on Adam’s horns a steady, calming presence. Keeping his head down and against the rumpled sheets at all times.

“I… I… n-no… fuck you-” his ire is not as impressive when he’s whining like he is now, shuddering intermittently on the cock gently reaming him. His hole still has trouble getting used to the feeling, it seems; trembling around him, occasionally clenching down in sudden desperation to push him back out… “Get out… g-get ouuuut,” Adam whines, clawing the sheets into ribbons.

There’s a flush on his cheekbones that is all too delicious looking.

Lucifer watches him intently as he fucks him in even, easy strokes; reaming him without any particular brutality, but also not letting him get all too accustomed to the sensation of having his pussy spread on dick.

And oh, would you look at that… Adam is getting all quiet real fast, whimpering softly as he drools into the sheets, his insides starting up a nice, rhythmic squeezing motion…

“Oh someone is enjoying himself,” Lucifer croons. He can’t deny that he’s downright disturbed about how good this bastard feels on his dick. He leans over Adam’s back. “Are you going to come on my cock? Hmmmn? Are you going to cum on your first ever dick without a hand on you? Huuuh? Are you going to call me daddy while you do it?”

Adam’s whole body jerks beneath him. His eyes, previously half-closed in reluctant pleasure, suddenly are wide open again. There’s genuine hate in his gaze, but his body is betraying him as he starts to cum like a good boy, pumping out his desperate load while speared deep on Lucifer’s dick.

There’s a sob in his voice as he rattles out a “F-F-FffuuuUUuck YyyooouUUuu” all uncoordinated and vitriolic.

Lucifer is grinning but out of breath himself. He hangs on to his own orgasm out of sheer spite. He wants to drag this out for hours. He wants Adam to lick his boots like a puppy and say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ by the time he is done with him.

No… This is just the fucking beginning.

#cyberratting writes stuff #adam/lucifer #adamsapple #demon!adam

[nightshadereaper66]

Ethanol and Mothballs

Word Count: 2.1k This short story is inspired by the museum collections that I visited during my January paleontology class. All of the pictures used are mine and were taken at the various museums we visited. I'm super excited to share this story with y'all, and hope you love it as much as I do!

The halls of the museum are quiet. The day has ended, night plunging the rooms into eerie darkness. Gone are the copious beams of sunlight flowing through the windows. They now show only the gray haze of the city's night sky, plunging the marble halls into obscurity. It's the end of the hustle and bustle of tourists, of the cheerful shouts and giggles of children, and more subdued conversations of adults. The darkness is broken only by the flashlight beams of security guards working the graveyard shift. 

Occasionally, their light settles on the bones of long-dead animals resting peacefully in their wire armatures, casting odd, distorted shadows across the walls. The umbral forms of prehistoric fossils dance with the shadows of the guards, brought halfway to life only briefly by their light. 

The silence is broken only by footsteps on carpet, the whirring of the climate systems, and the building's occasional creak and groan. All is still as it should be; quietly resting after the long day. It would seem that the museum dies at night.

I open my eyes, hearing the slosh of fluid around me as I shakily stretch, limbs hitting the hard edges of my tub. I groan, my voice gravelly from disuse. Finally, it's time to wake up. I sit up, my poorly adjusted eyes only seeing the occasional glint of light reflecting off the trails of ethanol crisscrossing the floor. My muscles are cramped; I barely see my pale limbs tremoring in front of me. I shake, struggling to find a grip on the sterile stainless steel until I manage to grab the edge of the tub. Slowly my eyes adjust to the welcoming darkness, a wonderful reprieve from bright fluorescent lights. The air is thick with the smell of ethanol. Always ethanol here, it clings to everything and everyone, a constant reminder of the place where we reside.

As my vision improves, I can make out the shapes of the shelves in the darkness. They stand in a puddle of ethanol, trails and prints radiating in all directions from it. My tremors slowly subside as my body fights the vestiges of the cold sleep.

I watch a snake slither out of its jar, landing in the ethanol puddle with a quiet plash. It's quickly followed by its jar-mates, then the frogs from the jar next door. 

The soft sloshes are interrupted by a loud series of splashes and thrashes coming from a large tub on the far side of the wet lab. The smell of ethanol intensifies as the massive alligator snapping turtle inside sends liquid everywhere in his energetic bid for freedom. I climb out of my tub, walking off the stiffness and the last of the tremors before pulling the turtle out by the back of his shell.

“Happy wake-up, Troy,” I say as he starts to wander around the room, leaving behind a broad, messy ethanol trail. He opens his mouth wide, looking straight at me. I’m never sure if that's his version of a smile or a death threat.

The shelves are alive, undocumented insects trundling among their more well-known friends. One jar spews hundreds of tiny snails as they crawl over each other and to the ground, trailing ethanol instead of mucus. I twist off the lid to another snail jar; this one is always particularly stubborn. As I pull off the lid, a giant African land snail creeps out onto my arm.

“Yeah, alright buddy, we can go for a walk. Stretch your, er, foot.”

Snail crawls up my torso and onto my shoulder. I gently pat them between their eyestalks and scratch their shell.

“Just give me a second to let the fish out,” I say, unscrewing the lids of the fish jars and letting them swim out into my large tub, “Have fun, guys. It's not much, but it's better than being stuck like sardines in a can. Or a jar, I guess.”

Troy the snapping turtle shuffles over to watch them schooling.

“You can't eat anymore, remember? None of us can. Don't try it, Troy.”

He opens his mouth, giving me another smile/death threat.

“Thank you.”

I slide Dr. MacMorgan's I.D. out from under a dusty, overlooked jar of rhino beetles on the top shelf. I'm grateful for the museum's leniency in issuing him a second I.D. after this one went missing. He claimed he lost the thing, after all, his eyes “aren't what they used to be,” and his memory “is full of cotton wool these days.” I think the curator also helped to fast-track the process. She definitely didn't ask many questions.

Anyway, I had a garden snail steal the I.D. so that I could walk around collections. What can I say, I got tired of only exploring when the man forgot it in the piles of paperwork on his desk. Feelings and federal laws don’t matter much when you’re dead. Besides, now I can go check out the new research posters they put on the walls. It's nice to know that they're still using us for something. 

I swipe the I.D. and step into the hall. The smell of ethanol fades as the door to the wet lab closes. Snail crawls onto my head for a better view as I step into the bathroom and look at our reflection. The light turns on automatically as I walk in, and I wince as my eyes struggle to adjust. I look at myself in the mirror; my cheeks are sallow, cloudy eyes sunk into yellowed skin. A little worse for wear, but not bad, I haven’t aged a day. I examine my arms, running my fingers over the relatively new needle-hole in one of them. It showed up a few months back, but it’ll never heal. Presumably, it was for a tissue sample; I wonder what they’re using it for. I have been dead and pickled in ethanol for a while, it was about time. Snail (who I seem to be wearing as a hat) looks a little better-preserved, but their body still has that yellowish color that all wet lab residents tend to get. My snail hat waves their eyestalks towards the door emphatically. 

“Okay, okay, I’m going!” I say, stepping back out of the bathroom and into the darkness of the halls. “Where to now?”

They crawl down to my forehead, waving their left eye stalk in front of my eye.

“Alright, fossils it is. I know you like the shark teeth.” They do a move resembling a one-snail wave in appreciation. I smile, heading through the maze of nearly identical corridors. I see the light of a flashlight ahead and duck into an empty office, narrowly avoiding someone. It's probably just a grad student returning from the vending machine with their energy drink. I wait until the light is gone and slip back into the halls.

“Hey look! They extracted my DNA and used it to do some stuff. That explains the needle hole in my arm,” I say, pointing out a poster on the wall. I step close so that Snail can read it. At least, I think they can read. Their eyestalks scan over the lines of text and appear to understand as they pull back. 

They settle back on my forehead and I set off once more, finally reaching the thick, heavy door to the fossil collections. I scan the I.D. and the light blinks green, letting me in beyond the large gray door. We are hit with the strong smell of mothballs and the crisp, strictly temperature and humidity-controlled air. The lights turn on automatically, illuminating the rows of open shelves and closed metal cabinets.

I walk down the aisles, waiting for Snail to stop me and gesture to whatever cabinet they find interesting. When they do, I open the door. All of the drawers are labeled “glyptodon,” so I pull out a random one. Snail crawls off of me and onto the cabinet, eye stalks investigating the giant armadillo fossils. Mostly osteoderms, the bony bits right under the skin, but some teeth and small bones. When they’re satisfied, I close the cabinet and open a nearby one. 

We proceed in a similar fashion for a while, opening whatever cabinets strike our fancy and stopping to admire the fossils inside. Snail crawls back onto my head and we look at the skulls that rest on the open shelves. There are plenty of mammoths and mastodons, recognizable by their massive teeth. The mammoth teeth are more flat, while mastodons’ are more pointy unless they’ve been worn down a lot.

I run my hand along the glossier fossilized enamel, wondering what the fossils would get up to if they could move around at night. They’re just rock-ified bones (the fancy descriptor is permineralized), so they’d fall apart, assuming that they hadn’t already. The Earth is a blender, or so I hear. 

Snail prefers the smaller fossils, so they’re content to stay on my head as I trace the contours of huge tusks, dino bones, and skulls. It’s crazy to think that some of this stuff is still closer in age to spaghetti than to the beginning of life. It sure seems like it’s been fossilized for ages. And then some paleontologist dug it up and encased it in plaster and a volunteer put in thousands of hours to clean it up. 

“Having a nice wander?”

I jump, snapping abruptly out of my thoughts. The voice comes from behind me. Snail retreats into their shell, still on top of my head. Act like a normal person. One who hasn’t been dead and preserved in ethanol for fifty years.

“Hi! I uh, have a really bad skincare routine!”

She laughs. I turn around. It’s the museum curator. She’s wearing a headlamp; it’s still turned on. She raises a hand to turn it off since it’s not needed in the automatic lighting of the fossil collections.

“That tends to happen when you’re a wet lab specimen.”

“You know about that?” I ask as Snail peeks out of their shell, eyestalks fixed on her. The curator’s gaze tracks up at them, then back to my cloudy eyes.

“Yes. How do you think MacMorgan got a new I.D. so quickly?” Seeing my look of concern, she adds, “I don’t mind if you leave the wet lab, as long as you don’t make a mess.”

“Uhh… okay…” I say, still trying to process the new turn of events.

“Some people think that this building is haunted. I see why they would say that. I passed you in the hall earlier, you look very sinister,” she says, smiling.

“That was you, with the light? I thought it was a grad student! Dammit, I need to be more careful,” I reply, looking perturbed.

“You could, or you could keep letting the world believe that this building is haunted.” The curator seems to be enjoying this conversation. She reaches out a hand to pet Snail’s shell. After a few moments, she speaks again, “It can be our little secret.”

“You’re not scared by me? I’m literally dead and pickled, how are you fine with this?”

She laughs again. “I used to work in a wet lab, I’m quite accustomed to seeing preserved organisms. And if you want to have a little fun at night, I suppose I can continue to turn a blind eye.”

I nod awkwardly, surprised by her casual demeanor. The curator holds out her phone, the screen showing a clock that reads 4:13 a.m. 

“For now, it’s time to go back to bed,” she says as the screen turns off. I stare into my reflection in the black glass.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll get back to wet lab,” I say, realizing that I’m starting to feel the sluggish feeling that heralds in the morning.

She smiles, turning her headlamp back on as we leave the fossil collections. The curator walks off, disappearing into the shadows of the halls as Snail and I hurry back home. I swipe the I.D. and duck inside, stopping for a moment as I’m hit with the strong smell of ethanol. I help Troy back into his tub, coax Snail into their jar, and gather up the fish swimming in my tub. We’re all much more sluggish as the morning starts to roll in, seeing the sky start to lighten through the window. At last, I collapse back into my tub, trying not to splash too much as I let the ethanol settle back around me.

I drift off into the long day, holding on to the memories of the night. My cloudy eyes don’t close as my muscles stiffen, ready to stay motionless for the next day in the bright lights of the lab. I could run these halls forever, reveling in the shadows of forgotten, forever preserved lives, permeated in the scent of ethanol and mothballs.

#writing #creative writing #short story #female writers #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writers and poets #writeblr #writblr #paleontology #biology #ethanol #museum #museum photography #science #mothballs #museum collections #fossils #field museum #wet lab #laboratory #dinosaur #t rex #mammoth #prehistoric animals

[animehouse-moe]

Skip and Loafer Episode 4: Tingling and Scraping

P.A Works and Skip and Loafer are doing it again, and again, and again. They continue to deliver interesting and unique direction and visuals that pile on a delightfully warm sense of comedy and friendship, and is complemented by thoughtful commentary and exploration of the most challenging aspects of being a high schooler. Today, that topic is regrets and expectations.

But who wants to start with the heavy stuff first, I like the cute and fluffy pieces too! Thanks to this episode's direction though, we get a lot of very beautiful scenery. There's a really strong focus that almost separates environment from characters, and lets you soak both up in copious amounts.

It's just so damn beautiful, but the characters can do a good job of distracting you from it. Take, for example, the use of CGI vehicles in the following scene. Unless you're looking at them they don't do anything other than populate the scenery, they just blend in so well with the lighting and color palette. To that end, I feel like P.A Works' use of CGI throughout the series so far has been really well managed. It fills up the layouts and adds life to the background of it all, but isn't enough where you're forced to look at it.

Anyways, moving on, the overall direction. I like it, it walks a fine line, but I like it. It's an episode that focuses far more on the internal pieces of characters so you get a good few close ups, but they do a good job of molding those pieces so that they fit within a "first person" perspective. It's very hard to explain, but basically the way they frame and block characters within a scene is to have viewers look through the eyes of a character, instead of the lens of a camera. It's a subtle piece, and I feel like they could do it better in some other areas, but there's quite a few pieces that stand out and really sell that first person feel.

Just simple things, like this scene of Mitsumi watching the old TV Drama that Shima-Kun acted in. The FoV is more stretched and there's the slightest visual effects to make sure viewers understand they're looking at a screen.

Or scenes like these pairs place us directly behind a character's line of sight (second image is a follow up cut that shows the pair in a single scene).

Stuff like this shows the strong awareness of today's episode director. Without these follow-up scenes, the direction (even though the initial scenes are still creative) can come off as typical or "standard", but the concept of that first person perspective is framed by seeing just how you saw the previous scenes. Really great work that's apparent through the episode.

Speaking of apparent through the episode, the comedy! I love that Takamatsu-sensei found a vehicle for their (non-deprecating) humor and ran with it. The adaptability of space, and its relation to Mitsumi is really felt in this episode. Thanks to that, I've got a newfound appreciation for the comedy and the sort of daydreaming aspect. It's so fluid and creative, and no matter what it finds its roots with Mitsumi which is really nice.

And just to round it out, the technical work on the speeds and movement of the background layers in this cut is so well done. Such a great mimicry of how it actually looks.

Alright, onto the story now! It's really lovely. I appreciate how it tackles the issues so much. It refuses to look at them as an issue that faces a single character, or one that characters can share, and instead brings the sentiment to a more macro scale and portrays it as something that every high school student deals with.

Shima-Kun has regrets, Mitsumi has regrets, Takamine has regrets, even characters like Kanechika are faced with regret and its challenges. And that's what this episode ends up all about, facing those expectations and staring down regret and what you might regret later down the road.

I feel like the above image really puts the whole episode into context quite well. What does it mean to have no regrets? When will you know if you'll regret something in the moment? They're questions without answers, and the curiosity possessed by the teenagers within the series does well to really sell it.

They don't have a real answer to it, nor can they quite put it into words, but instead they can experience it. They can understand how to live without regrets and how to find happiness in every corner in life. Like this scene of Takamine as she looks out the window of the bus

. She's regretting her decisions, she's beating herself up for losing and wasting time. But one little moment with Mitsumi wipes it all away, because the view was worth it. Such a simple thing as a landscape was enough to ease Takamine, and I think it's great. It's not the big moments that make that difference, it's the little ones you might not otherwise experience.

And god do I love how Takamine and Mitsumi are played off each other. They exist as polar opposites in the most important moments, and show how impactful each is on the other to strike a balance between the two lifestyles. Stuff like Takamine studying while Mitsumi eats candy and watches the scenery go by, just really simple pieces that establish that fundamental rift between the personalities of the two.

Surprisingly, something this simple is actually an incredibly important piece of symbolism that ties to an earlier conversation that Mitsumi had with Shima-Kun. Mitsumi used to have expectations and regrets weigh incredibly heavy on her, so bad that it was to the point that she wasn't eating while studying for exams. But one person was able to help carry that weight and let Mitsumi be free.

That's what's happening with Takamine and Mitsumi, an implicit conversation telling Takamine that it's okay to betray expectations and have regrets. That you can fail and not get into the middle school of your choice and still have a wonderful life. It's a really wonderful piece for reassuring people with their whole life ahead of them that they have just that. There's no rush to fill your schedule and do everything possible every waking moment to make sure you get to where you're going. It's all about the journey, or in this case, the bus ride.

And just to top it all off, Takamine really changes quite quickly. What's best about it though is that they show it as a subconscious change before they express it as a thought. They used to have nightmares about being left behind by the bus, but that gets replaced with a wonderful little dream sequence that takes Takamine through the stars.

It's just so... good. It does everything right and wonderful and bubbly and cute and sweet. It takes Takamine's desires and feelings as a high school girl and lays them bare to the viewer in what amounts to a fluff sequence.

And why you might ask? Well, like I said earlier it's a subconscious piece of Takamine, so there's lots of things within it. Take the cat, an amalgamation of the cat Mitsumi picked up earlier and Mitsumi herself. And then there's the idea of looking out the window of the bus at the scenery, and within that there's even paralells/similarities to how Takamine saw Mitsumi when she was looking out the bus.

Okay I promise to tie it off here. After her experience in her dream, we see her cutely mistake Mitsumi for the dream cat, before she follows it up with expressing to Mitsumi that she's not the girl that she thinks Mitsumi thinks she is. I think. But yeah, it's a great little scene that shows the confidence Takamine finds in herself from yesterday's experience to face today head on, and create a deeper relationship with Mitsumi in the process.

Even though we're already this far along I feel like there's a world of things to take in. Like how Shima-Kun speaks to expectations and how family bearing down on you can squash happiness and passion as you strive to live up to expectations and earn their affection. Or how thoughtful Mitsumi tries to be at times like not bringing up Shima-Kun's acting career to him. Or how Mitsumi's come to Tokyo to try and change a foundational issue with rural underpopulation in Japan (really, it's a pretty severe issue these days). It's such a diverse and deep story that you can hardly fit all of the good parts into one post. But you can summarize it with a single sentence.

Skip and Loafer continues to prove that it has incredible understanding and nuance in regards to high school life and how it affects students, depicting a wonderfully romanticized story that continues to stay close to the ground and provide important commentary and messages to viewers.

Though I guess that's more like a paragraph, isn't it?

#skip and loafer #skip to loafer #スキップとローファー #iwakura mitsumi #mitsumi iwakura #sousuke shima #shima sousuke #tokiko takamine #anime recommendation #anime review #anime and manga #anime #romcom anime

[ajgrey9647]

Playful teasing Jason x Tommy?

Kinky Cosplay - Baiting the Black Dragon

Mind Games AU - Follows Play Stupid Games, Win Stupid Prizes

Longer version to be posted on AO3.

Far from scratching his carnal itch for the older man, the tryst with Red under the moonlight only exacerbated Tommy’s obsession to fuck him again and again. Even after he’d orgasmed heavily, his scream of pleasure muffled by the former pet’s tongue in his mouth, the White Ranger stubbornly forced his softening cock against the man’s ass, desperate to remain sheathed inside him. Eventually, he’d had no choice but slip from that delicious hole, relaxing against that sweaty flesh, his eyes beginning to feel heavy as his head dropped to Red’s chest, lulled by the thumping of his heart.

Much sooner than he would have liked, Tommy was gently shaken awake by a chuckling Red, who lay still entwined in the White Ranger’s possessive embrace. He lifted his heavy head from the former pet’s warm skin and gazed into the amused, sparkling dark eye. 

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder, little one,” Red playfully teased. “If one of the others should happen upon us in this compromising position, it would most likely be World War Three.”

His customary wide canine grin graced his countenance and he winked. “Not that I’m not enjoying being cuddled after a vigorous, much-needed fucking.”

The gray-haired man again chuckled at the young Ranger’s contented, sleepy expression , one hand reaching up to brush long strands of Tommy’s hair from his flushed cheeks.

“I think we’ll both sleep well tonight, White Ranger. Fucking is a great stress reliever… I’ve not had a play time like this in quite awhile.”

 Tommy only growled deep in his throat before claiming the soft lips in another passionate kiss. Pulling himself begrudgingly to his feet, he stared down at Red’s powerful, sweat slick body, the copious white fluid leaking from his thoroughly fucked ass. The visual of his cum on the pet’s flesh further sparked his dark desire.

“Does that mean you’ll play with me again?”

Red bit his lower lip and his eye sparkled with mischief.

“Perhaps, kiddo… I rather enjoyed our little rodeo…” he sighed blissfully. “Now, you better get back before the others start to worry.”

Tugging his clothes over his trembling arms and legs, Tommy looked over to where Red still lounged upon the grass, sprawled out languidly in his contentment. 

“What about you? Won’t they worry where you are?”

The older man laughed loudly in surprise, eyes wide.

“Kiddo, I AM the monster in the dark… The abomination…”

“No, you’re just misunderstood.”

This comment made Red laugh harder, his chest rumbling as he slowly moved to sit up.

“So sweet of you to commiserate with me…” he grinned as he stretched his back provocatively.

“I mean it,” Tommy insisted, adjusting his pants and t-shirt.  “And it would seem that someone wants to challenge your reign.”

His face darkened at the thought of this newest villain who claimed he planned to cut Red’s heart from his chest, like field dressing a deer.

“But he won’t get near you,” he snarled, lip lifting like a predatory beast. “Not while I’m still breathing. I’ll see to it that he ends up missing more parts than David is right now.”

Red’s shaggy head tilted in curiosity as he regarded the younger Ranger.

“Interesting. Your eyes also grow black when you get angry. Just like him,” he mused.

It rankled Tommy somewhat to be compared to that asshole, but right now, he only wanted to nestle back against Red’s muscular chest, inhale his scent, and wake to claim him yet again.

“I confess that I’m not used to inspiring such a protective nature in others. Usually it’s fear or horror or rage. I’ve never needed defending or rescuing before,” the former pet mused, lifting a dark brow.

Pulling himself to his feet, the pet pressed his nude body against Tommy and sighed gently, his powerful thigh sensually brushing the younger man’s before sliding a finger beneath the White Ranger’s chin. 

“Something to remember me by,” he cooed, the tip of his tongue dipping easily between Tommy’s lips and making him groan hungrily.  “Now, hurry along, little one. Back to the others…”

Standing at the kitchen sink, Jason stared out the window into the night, watching his boyfriend stomp off angrily through the high grass. Behind him, the Ranger Slayer was reading David the riot act about how atrociously he’d conducted himself and that he reminded her of a toddler. The former tyrant retorted with some crass words and a middle finger, incensed that he was getting the brunt of the blame for the brawl when Tommy had eagerly participated in it as well.

“I think we need to manage you just like a child when you act like this, ‘David’,” she taunted. “You’d think I wouldn’t be surprised by your outbursts after everything I went through with you, yet here I stand, watching you scream and throw things like it's a new development.”

David crossed his arms and sneered up at her from his place on the floor, his wheelchair tipped over behind him when he’d foolishly launched himself at his younger doppelganger.

“So Mr. Perfect gets a pass for acting like an asshole? Figures…” he hissed. 

Jason turned to stare down at him, shaking his head.

“I don’t know what you thought you were going to accomplish getting into a physical fight with Tommy, but I’m glad Jamie wasn’t here to see this.”

He gestured at the broken dishes, turned over chairs, and spilled beverages.

“He’s used to being here by himself where it’s quiet and calm and here we are, descending on him like a plague. It’s not fair for him to have to deal with this,” the Red Omega scolded. “Jamie deserves peace after everything he’s been through.”

Righting his wheelchair, David crawled back into the seat, reminding Jason of a poisonous spider. 

“Well, you need to muzzle your bitch!” David spat. “I knew how to handle mine!”

Kimberly took a menacing step toward the asshole, her face dark and gritting her teeth.

“Don’t you EVER refer to him like that again,” she growled. “Or you’ll be MY bitch.”

David twirled a finger in the air and rolled his eyes.

“Whatever.”

He spun his chair around and started rolling to the kitchen doorway and into the living room.

“Hey! Aren’t you going to clean up the mess you made?” the Slayer called after him, her hands fisted on her hips.

“Nope. You’ve pissed me off and I’m going to bed.”

Jason snagged Kim’s arm as she made to go after the evil man.

“Let him go. It’s not worth it to have to deal with his mouth,” he soothed. “I’ll take care of it. Go get some rest. We’ve got an early morning tomorrow.”

The Ranger Slayer sighed, her shoulder relaxing under Jason’s hand. She turned to gaze into his dark eyes. It was still difficult to look at the Red Omega, even now knowing that ‘her’ Jason survived. Technically, anyways, in some form.

Smiling gently, the younger man pulled her into a warm embrace. The petite brunette nestled her head against his chest, the feel of him familiar despite the decades that had passed. Honestly, her heart needed this.

“Sorry,” she murmured. “I still miss him. I know I’m lucky that he’s alive. And Jamie is really sweet.”

Pulling back, she teasingly ruffled Jason’s thick hair, blinking her tears away. 

“But he’s not the ‘Jason’ you remember, that you were fighting to get back in the containment room,” the Omega finished. “I get it. It’s weird interacting with him sometimes because Jamie is talented and smart about things that I’m horrible with, he’s a lot quieter and more reserved than I am, and he even carries himself differently.”

Kimberly nodded.

“I don’t want Jamie to think he’s failed somehow or that he’s a disappointment, Jase. He’s truly an amazing individual and I sometimes think he doesn’t see that.”

Giving his smooth cheek one last pat, she turned to head through the doorway and to begin getting ready to sleep.

“Goodnight, Jase…”

“Goodnight, Kim.”

Sighing in annoyance, the Red Omega set up cleaning up the disheveled kitchen, periodically looking out the window to see if his partner was making his way back with Jamie. He was keenly aware that they could easily be attacked while they were out there, separated from the others. Though he didn’t doubt either man’s fighting abilities, Jason couldn’t help being a worry wart.

As he tidied, sweeping the floor, setting chairs upright, and wiping down the soiled countertops, the younger Ranger discovered that Jamie had left his black frame glasses laying near his small collection of coffee mugs. Glancing around guiltily, he reached out, scooping them up carefully.

Jason was curious.

Unfolding the spectacles, he slid them onto his face experimentally. He was surprised that the lenses didn’t warp his vision as he’d thought they would from experience goofing off when Billy had allowed him to try on his glasses. Catching sight of the slight reflection in the kitchen window, an idea crept into Jason’s mind, a rather erotic, kinky urge that he hoped his boyfriend would be open to entertaining.

Sure, they’d indulged in the taboo roleplaying of Drakkon and Red, fucking each other stupid as they imagined the tyrant and his pet had done during the asshole’s hellish reign of the Coinless World. It was one of their favorite scenes and led to the most intense orgasms. Jason knew his ass was the sorest after these sessions, sometimes causing him to be unable to walk the next day.

A quick peek around the door frame showed the Ranger Slayer fast asleep on the couch, sprawled over the cushions under a colorful throw. Something soft brushed his arm as Jason rounded the corner to creep back up to the loft with Jamie’s glasses still perched upon his face. 

Hanging on a hook jutting from the wall was the soft black and gray checked button up the older man had been wearing that day.

A quick, shameful sniff revealed that it still smelled like Jamie. 

‘Perfect!’

Tommy had a real kink for scents.

Snagging the warm material, Jason couldn’t help a grin as he climbed the ladder and waited for the White Ranger to return. 

All the way back to the farmhouse, Tommy’s obsessive brain continued to replay the erotic encounter, minute by delicious minute. He couldn’t believe he’d been buried deep inside that devious creature. Red was so different from Jason, and even Jamie, for that matter.

The White Ranger found it fascinating that both personalities had their own body language, facial expressions, voice, scent, and taste. He knew there was a difference between Jason and Red. And it was likely that if Coinless Jason were present, he’d closely mirror the Red Omega.

When his tongue delved between his boyfriend’s lips, Tommy thought Jase tasted fresh and pure, innocent. His mind brought forth images of clear blue skies, sunshine, and a fragrant spring breeze. He couldn’t explain why that was. Jason’s body felt warm and welcoming under his embrace, leaning forward eagerly and openly.

On the other end of the spectrum was Red. The older man’s tongue had a spicier flavor, much like the aroma of his body. It was like fine wine and rich chocolate, bringing to mind silky sheets, decadent body oils, and a fire burning in the hearth. The feel of him in Tommy’s arms was more playful and teasing, dancing just out of reach, tempting him to follow along.

The White Ranger frowned when he got to Jamie. The closest he’d really gotten to this alter was a warm hug after their deep conversation in the barn. Tommy thought he smelled crisp fall leaves, raindrops, and pine. Jamie had felt more guarded, receptive, yet unsure, as he attempted to return the younger man’s embrace.

Walking along the beaten path, Tommy found he couldn’t get Jamie out of his mind now. He visualized the quieter personality’s gentle features, his customary button ups over a fitted t-shirt, the black frame glasses, his scarred, artistically talented hands…

He’d been so besotted with Red and his rumored sexual talent and flirtatious behavior that having Jamie writhing under him hadn’t been a thought. What would Jamie’s bare flesh feel like? What noises would he make when aroused? How would his face look on the brink of orgasm? How would his mouth taste?

For some reason, Jamie’s shyness and timidity was arousing to Tommy. This alter had never had a sexual encounter, at least not that he knew of. And he honestly doubted it, given the older man’s reserved personality. It was rather sweet, though it also stirred his obsessive and possessive tendencies as much as Red did.

When he crept back into the farmhouse, Tommy discovered the Ranger Slayer snoozing on the couch, David was holed up in Jamie’s room, and Jason was resting up in the loft. Skull and Billy were staying on the ship overnight with plans for the team to bring David in the morning for scans, much to the asshole’s indignation.

Attempting to climb the ladder as quietly as he could manage, his thoughts were laser focused on the morning he’d first seen the older version of his boyfriend twirling through the air on metal beams, high in the barn rafters, flipping and spinning and holding the most amazing static poses he’d ever seen. At the time, Tommy had only been mesmerized by the feat of strength Jamie displayed as he held a perfect ninety degree plank.

Now he was considering all the kinky ways that could be incorporated in the bedroom…

The White Ranger hauled himself up and realized that Jason was sitting up waiting for him. Only his boyfriend was clad only in a familiar black and gray button up and black frame glasses, nothing else.

“Well, hey there, kiddo… I was starting to worry…”

Lifting the glasses from his eyes, Jason tapped one of the plastic, black arms against his full lower lip.

Tommy stared at the delicious vision, stunned that somehow the Omega was able to read his mind. The sleeves of the garment were tight over Jason’s larger muscles and he hoped they wouldn’t accidentally tear Jamie’s shirt. 

Or get any tell tale white fluid over the back of it.

“I’m going to suggest, my darling ‘Jamie’, that you grab that pillow right there. Things might get a little rough and you’re going to need something to bite down on…”

Then, the White Ranger pounced on the other man, trying unsuccessfully to keep his possessive snarls and growls quiet, but failing miserably.

Fortunately, the Ranger Slayer was in too deep a snooze to overhear the animalistic, wild cavorting going on just over her head.

Not so with David, who lay awake, smirking, yet jealous as his hand found his throbbing, leaky cock…

“That’s right, Tommy… Give to him hard…Make his ass bleed.” 

Up in the loft, ‘David’ seized ‘Jamie’s’ throat tightly, causing his mouth to fall open in shallow pants, eyes wide behind his glasses.

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it, precious?” he spat near the frightened man’s ear. “And you’ve only gotten more lovely with time. I’ve heard that absence makes the heart grow fonder…”

‘Jamie’ gripped the fingers encircling his throat and was unable to pry them loose. Swiftly, he found himself slammed down into the pallet of blankets and pillows as ‘David’ straddled his waist. 

“Now, now… I know you’ve missed me just as much as I’ve missed you,” he purred, grinning evilly. “

His eyes flooded an eerie black, they swept the man lying helplessly under him. 

“I’m going to eat your ass before I fuck you from behind like the little doggie you are…”

#lord drakkon #boom! comics power rangers #power rangers #ao3 author #world of the coinless jason #jason scott #ao3 fanfic #coinless jason #jamie #mind games au #white ranger #jason au #beautiful red #red #Jason | Red | Jamie

[internet-sadass]

Don't Panic (Fox Mulder x Dana Scully)

Blurb: What's the best thing to do when you get stuck in an elevator? Don't panic and make a move on your work partner! After getting stuck in an elevator, Scully helps the time go by quicker for Mulder by giving him something much more pleasant to focus on than their current predicament.

Warnings: smut, oral sex (male receiving), semi-public sex (in an elevator)

A/N: Inspired by this amazing post I saw on X/Twitter (https://twitter.com/lordesbbqribs/status/1740685939712921956). Literally could NOT get the image out of my brain so here's the result of that. This has far more plot in it than I anticipated and it's also really dumb plot but whatever, there is still copious amounts of smut so it balances out.

"Don't nearly all high-rise buildings have no thirteenth floor? As in, they have a physical thirteenth floor, but they don't label it as such?" Scully said, staring up at the dizzyingly tall building that seemed to sway the more she tried to focus on it.

"They do, and for a good reason. Seems that naming your thirteenth floor leads to endless numbers of unexplainable injuries and deaths. The turnover rate in this place must be crazy." Mulder shaded his eyes with a hand and followed his partner's gaze. 

Rolling her eyes, Scully turned her gaze to Mulder, who was still wistfully admiring the sheer height of the building they were about to enter.

"Or, this place could have terrible workplace health and safety standards. And maybe some of the deaths are from falls or even suicides. I don't think this building having a thirteenth floor is what is causing egregious amounts of workplace injuries." As always, Scully offered her rational take on the case, despite knowing that Mulder would try to disprove the rational with the irrational, as he always did.

They entered the lobby, which was incredibly suave for the reception of an office building. The front desk was marble, or, at least, imitation marble. An abstract mural hung on the wall behind the desk, some sort of painting of colourful fluids intertwining. The click of Scully's heels brought their attention to the floor, which also appeared to be marble. 

"In this sort of place? I don't think anywhere with this much money would wilfully let their workforce injure themselves beyond repair. Besides, I don't know any office jobs where there's machinery that can cause lacerations and fourth degree burns." Mulder whispered to Scully, leaning close to her as he placed a hand on her back to guide her towards the elevator. 

Much like the reception of the building, the elevator looked far more expensive than a simple elevator in an office building should be. The railings were mahogany, the floor was a mosaic of the building itself, and each of the four walls was made of a startling clean mirror. Three reflections of Mulder and Scully greeted them as they entered the elevator. Mulder pressed the button for the 13th floor, then proceeded to walk up to each of the mirrors and press the tip of his finger to the glass, inspecting the point at which his fingertip met that of his reflections.

"Mulder, what are you doing?" Scully said, bemused by his antics.

"Checking to see if this is a two-way mirror. You never know, maybe the boss here liked to spy on his employees." He replied, still engrossed in testing the mirrors. 

Shaking her head to herself, Scully watched the numbers on the digital display go up from zero as the elevator rose up the building. It had just reached twelve when it shuddered to a stop, making her nearly lose her footing and grasp the railing for support. The display was now blank.

"Looks like the thirteenth floor doesn't want us to visit. Maybe we have to take the stairs the rest of the way." Mulder didn't seem at all concerned about the elevator fault and pressed the button for the doors, expecting they'd open onto the twelfth floor. The doors remained shut. 

"Shit." He cursed under his breath, pressing the button again. Exhaling deeply, he rubbed his temples, willing the elevator to either open its doors and set them free, or to start moving.

"Don't worry, Mulder, these things usually get resolved pretty quickly. I've been trapped in an elevator a few times before, and the maintenance crew always sorted it out within half an hour." Scully tried her best to soothe her clearly frustrated partner. She rubbed his arm, noticing the firmness of the bicep hidden under the layers of fabric. 

Not now, She thought. We are not having these sorts of thoughts when we are literally trapped in a box with him. This is not the time for fantasies.

Wrenching herself out of her thoughts, Scully searched the button panel for an alarm bell. She found it and pressed it, hoping that some of the money the company had poured into this swanky building had gone towards a half-decent maintenance crew. An eerie silence was the only thing that filled the elevator. She pressed the button again, despite knowing it was probably going to yield the same disappointing result.

“Mustn’t be connecting to the reception or wherever it's supposed to call through to.” Mulder stated, slouching against the wall next to Scully, letting his head tilt back against the mirror behind him. She unconsciously mirrored him, taking up the same pose. 

“They’ll figure out the only elevator in this building is out of order soon, even if the alarm doesn't work. Hardly something that’ll go unnoticed.” She said, mostly to keep herself calm. She didn't consider herself claustrophobic, but even so, the idea of being trapped in a little box for hours on end was far from appealing. 

Twenty-five minutes later…

Normally, being trapped in a room with Scully while working on a case wasn’t an issue for Mulder. He’d found that, provided there was something else to occupy his mind with, it wouldn't start to wander onto topics such as how soft Scully’s lips looked, how her skirts molded perfectly over her hips and ass, how she stirred up some filthy visions in him whenever she looked up at him through her long lashes. Those certain topics were explored when he was alone at night, preferably with a bottle of lube nearby. But right now, when he was trapped in a tiny room with not just Scully but three (visible) reflections of her, his mind was very much wandering into dangerous territory. He couldn't keep his eyes off either her real warm body next to him or the three cold reflections of her oh-so tempting form that caged him in. All this time spent with her, alone and without a distraction, meant all he could think about was her and all the things he wanted to do with her. 

Little did Mulder know, the woman next to him faced an identical dilemma. Scully had good self-discipline, and despite how much she wanted to turn her strictly professional, platonic relationship with Mulder into something more, she resisted her desires, stuffing them down and keeping them out of her thoughts by throwing herself into her work. The only problem with that method of ‘dealing’ with her feelings was that whenever there was no work to occupy her mind, those feelings came bubbling up. Right now, she was stealing glances at Mulder, admiring the slight shadow of facial hair decorating his sharp jaw, the bump of his Adam’s apple, and the veins on his hands as he held the railing. She wanted to kiss him, blow him, fuck him, sleep with him, all of that. And, rather helpfully, her brain was spewing out various ways she could  propose the idea of doing something unprofessional with him right now. Most of them were nonsense or simply things she couldn't bring herself to say until one thought seriously made her stir.

After a certain point, she just couldn’t take it anymore. Her hindbrain was too persistent, and she knew it would only be quieted by acting upon its impulses. With her better judgment completely forgotten, she let those impulses take over.

Clearing her throat, Scully absently checked her watch.

 “It's only been twenty-five minutes since the elevator jammed, but it feels like it could have easily been an hour.” She said, looking over at Mulder. He tilted his head to meet her gaze.

“Time goes slow when you’re suspended in an elevator shaft.” He responded dryly.

“Yes, but time flies when you’re having fun. Or so the saying goes.” She looked at her shoes, blood rushing in her ears and her stomach doing backflips. She felt like a teenager about to ask their crush on a date.

Mulder chuckled.

“What fun can you have in an elevator, Scully?” 

He’d walked right into her game, and god , she was glad he’d taken the bait so easily.

“Not much except from something like this.” 

Now or never, Scully.

She stepped in front of him and then dropped to her knees, settling between his legs, looking up and taking in the confused expression on his handsome face. Her hand shook as she reached out and stroked his inner thigh, rubbing up until she was tantalizingly close to his crotch before sliding back down towards his knee. 

“S-Scully…” Mulder sounded like he was simultaneously questioning, scolding, and asking her to keep going. 

She stroked back up his thigh, pausing for a moment before she got to his crotch.

“You want me to make time fly for you?” 

Mulder couldn't manage a verbal response to Scully’s (mostly rhetorical) question, so he just nodded and brought a hand to cup the back of her head, silently urging her to carry out what she had planned for him. 

Having got the go-ahead from Mulder, Scully began to palm his soft length, pumping it gently through the fabric of his slacks. It responded to her touch almost instantaneously, beginning to stiffen with each slide of her hand. Much to her surprise and perverted delight, now that she had her hands on him, she guessed Mulder was rocking something about seven inches, maybe more once he was fully erect. Curiosity getting the better of her, she undid his belt and pulled his fly open, easing his slacks down his hips to reveal the light blue fabric of his boxers and the prominent outline of his growing erection. She pulled the stretchy waistband down far enough to let his cock spring out. It did indeed look about seven inches, with a pretty pink tip and two prominent veins winding their way up from the base. The breathy gasp she let out as she took his cock in her hand sent a shiver up Mulder’s spine and gave his ego a good stroke. Clearly, she was pleasantly shocked by what he had in his pants.

Pumping his length until it reached full hardness, Scully was starting to wish she was daring enough to let Mulder fuck her properly right now. As much as she was desperate to feel him stretch her cunt open and pound her with her face pressed up against the mirrored wall, she knew that was far too risky. Maybe after she showed him just how much fun she could be, then they could go further than a bit of impromptu oral next time they found themselves locked in a room together. 

Leaning forward, she began to lick from the base of his shaft to his crown, savouring the salt of his skin, which intensified in flavour as she flicked her tongue over his slit. Taking him in her mouth, she hummed as she adjusted to how her lips stretched around his girth and the weight of his cock on her tongue. Desire began to burn in her lower belly as she imagined what his length would feel like entering her cunt, how well it’d stretch her out and fill her. She took as much of him into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks as she did so, earning a sinful moan from Mulder. He gripped the railing tighter, looking at the ceiling and mumbling a curse to himself. The hand he’d rested against her head now gripped it, his fingers getting lost in the warmth of her thick hair.

This was exactly like the fantasies Mulder indulged in on a nearly nightly basis, however, the major difference was this was fantastically real and engaged all his senses. Instead of the cool flesh of his hand pumping his cock, he could feel it sinking in and out of the hot, wet cavern of Scully’s mouth. The way her tongue pressed against the underside of his shaft and swirled around his crown every time she drew his cock nearly out of her mouth made his knees weak. No woman had ever used her tongue so artfully on him. Even better than the sensation of her mouth and tongue was the sight of her blue eyes looking up at him and her lips stretched around his cock. Although he was desperately trying to last as long as he could, the combination of how heavenly she felt around him, the way she was looking at him, the soft moans she was making, and the fact that this was Scully blowing him was making it nigh on impossible for him to hold back from orgasm. 

Watching and feeling her mouth's effect on Mulder was turning on Scully more than it should have. Blow jobs weren’t something she normally found super appealing; they had always been an act done for her partner’s benefit or to repay them for giving her pussy the same treatment. However, she couldn’t deny that her panties were soaked, and her clit twinged as it was left untouched despite how it throbbed. Blowing Mulder was hot to her, solely because it was Mulder whom she had in her mouth and whom she could hear moaning her name. Moving her free hand under her skirt, she stroked over her clit and slit through her tights and panties. She whimpered around the cock in her mouth, her eyes almost shuttering closed as she touched herself. It was unlikely that she would be able to make herself orgasm right now, but at least she’d have the best material to get off to later on when she got into bed that night. She rubbed herself through the two layers of thin fabric, rutting against her hand as she chased her own high.

Scully knew before Mulder spoke a word that he was painfully close; his cock kept twitching in her mouth, the tip leaking down her throat, his hips juttering as he tried to thrust harder into her mouth. 

“C-can I?” He stuttered out rather pathetically, his green eyes dark and half-lidded as he looked down at her, waiting for her answer.

She pulled off his cock with a satisfying ‘pop’, which made Mulder groan and his knees nearly give way. 

“Can you wait just a few more moments? I have something I want to try.” Her voice was hoarser and lower than usual, her throat feeling tender after having the head of a cock ram into it multiple times. 

“Okay, okay.” Mulder all but gasped out.

 He was so close it was hurting him to hold back. His balls kept tightening as his orgasm threatened to come spilling out of him. He had no idea Scully could be like this. In all his fantasies, he’d cast her as more innocent than himself, less experienced, ready and willing to be guided through various sexual acts. Truth be told, he liked the real Scully far more now. The way she borderline dominated and controlled him with her mouth and hand was unbelievably sexy to him. It made him wonder if she would have the same attitude while perched atop him, riding him and making him work for the chance to finish inside her. 

Scully pulled the waistband of Mulder’s boxers further down his thighs, giving her better access to his balls. Holding his cock in one hand, she slowly pumped it, running her thumb over the slit, smearing the pre-cum that was beginning to leak over her fingers. Taking a deep breath in, she took his balls in her mouth, sucking on them gently, testing to see whether Mulder appreciated this experimental move. His fingers clenched her hair, a shuddering whimper leaving his mouth. That was a clear enough sign that he was enjoying what she was doing; therefore, she continued until a tug on her hair made her draw back.

“Open your mouth.” Mulder panted out, his chest heaving.

Obeying his command, Scully presented her mouth to him, releasing his cock from her clasp. Mulder’s hand replaced hers, guiding his length back into her awaiting mouth. He didn't even have a chance to stroke himself before he felt himself cumming in heavy spurts, his seed filling up Scully’s mouth and sliding down her throat. She swallowed, then licked the head of his cock clean of his sticky release.

“Hello? Is there anyone trapped in there?”

The voice coming over the intercom made Mulder and Scully jump, tearing them out of their hazy post-coital state. They exchanged a look, knowing one of them had to answer. 

“Y-yes, two of us.” Mulder managed, his voice wavering. He hadn't had a chance to recover from one of the best orgasms he’d ever had the pleasure of experiencing, so he wasn’t in the best shape to even speak. 

“Right. We’re currently getting a rescue crew down to you. The elevator is suspended between floors twelve and thirteen, so it will take some time to get to the pair of you. Apologies for taking so long to respond to the alert. Whenever the elevator stops between floors, the intercom signal gets iffy.” 

The male voice continued, sounding anything but apologetic about allowing two people to remain trapped in an elevator for nearly an hour. The intercom clicked off before either Mulder or Scully could thank the voice for letting them know help was coming.

Scully got up from the floor, wiping the mix of saliva and semen from her lips. She suddenly felt immensely awkward, unsure of what she was supposed to do or say after performing oral sex on her colleague in a fit of passion. Mulder appeared to be suffering the same feelings as he silently pulled his boxers and slacks back up. After a few more moments of unbearably tense silence, Mulder found it in himself to say something.

“I didn’t think you had that in you, Scully.” He said, grasping her by the elbows and drawing her close to his chest. Her hands came to rest against his pectorals as she absently smoothed his shirt, still avoiding his gaze. 

“Not that I’m complaining about it. Colour me pleasantly surprised that you’re such a vixen.” He added, twisting a strand of her red hair around his index finger, smirking at her.

His words didn’t do anything to help Scully find the ability to speak. She felt her cheeks heat up.

“I…didn’t really think I had it in me either. It's been a long time since I’ve been that daring.” She confessed. 

“How long?” Mulder asked, still fiddling with a strand of Scully’s hair. He genuinely wanted to know when the last time his colleague, whom he’d always thought of as relatively straight-edged and disciplined, had gone off on a kinky escapade. 

“Hm. Probably college.” It was true, Scully had not been as adventurous in her sex life after graduating. She’d always chalked it up to maturing past the phase of wanting to try everything the world of sex had to offer. However, she now believed it was because she hadn’t met someone who made her want to be playful and adventurous with her sex life. As soon as Mulder came into her life, the fantasies of doing anything more than basic missionary or doggy had come back with a vengeance.

Mulder chuckled, tilting Scully’s chin up so she looked at him with those pretty blue eyes.

“I wish I’d known you in college. We could have been doing things like this a lot sooner.”

#fox mulder #dana scully #mulder x scully #mulder and scully #fox mulder smut #scully x mulder #scully x mulder smut #scully x mulder fanfic #scully smut #mulder smut #the x files #the x files fanfic #the x files smut #smut #msr fanfic #msr smut

[fuelformythoughts]

The Dream

I’m laying in my bed, struggling to sleep with the desire or is it need? The need to feel your body pressed against mine.

I'm restless, and I can't focus on much else at the moment. I'm aching. I need so badly.

I need to pay attention to the details of my thoughts, like the temperature of your skin, the light dusting of man fur that covers every inch of you, and the weight of your body pressing down on me. I'm sinking into the bed or was it the couch? I can feel your breath next to my face as you gently kiss my cheek, jawline and neck. You bit and lick just under my ear while you murmur something indistinguishable as language yet not a primal grunt or growl. Then you bite my shoulder. Goosebumps cascade over my body. The heat between my thighs is increasing, and a deep, slow throb has begun. You whisper something. I can't quite clear the fog enough to make out exactly what you said, but the "fuuuck" made me shiver. I can feel your desire. I clench my jaw.

Your hand moves from cradling my face to my breast, which disappears in your large hand. It's not a gentle grab of my boob, and it causes me to inhale sharply. You move to kiss me and pause briefly before capturing my mouth in yours, I melt even more into you.

It's all so surreal, but of course, it is. This isn't real, it's just a dream, a fantasy, the figment of a desiring imagination.

I'm feeling dizzy. Your tongue is so gentle and purposeful as it searches for mine. In slow motion, your tongue plays and chases mine as you taste me and moan your pleasure into me.

Your hands return to my face as you hold yourself on your elbows to look down into my eyes. "Open your eyes. I need to see you look at me." I hear you, but you seem far away. I can't look I'm afraid you'll see how you truly affect me, and that's too vulnerable. I have to remain some sort of distant so I don't get hurt. it's all too intense. Plus, what if you're not here?

Your knees spread my thighs, and one of your hands slides between us, followed by your gaze as you check if I've been at all turned on. You are surprised to find my folds puffy and slick like they've been waiting forever to be attended to. As you slide your fingers into me, they graze my swollen clit, and you immediately look back up at me. I've closed my eyes again. "How long have you been in this state? Fuuuuck," you groan and quickly position yourself on your knees between my legs as you remove your bottoms. I watch intently to see your cock spring from the confines of your underwear. I bite my bottom lip. Oh my god, I say to myself. You're so gorgeous. I am so aroused, my eyes are watering, and my breath is speeding up. Fuck I'm even squirming, so damn needy, So damn trite.

Taking your cock in your fist, you stroke him a couple of times before pressing him against my clit. You rock your hips back and forth, smearing my copious fluids up and down your shaft. Then you align the head to my opening, and I wriggle to take him, but your hands still my waist. "Wait, no, not yet," you whisper as you carefully lean forward and press your chest against mine, positioning yourself with me buried in your arms. Your mouth is so close to mine we are sharing breath, and everything stills. I'm looking into your eyes, my hands gently scratching up and down your back. We watch each other as you slowly slide into me, painfully slow. 1/4 inch at a time, and the feeling is intense. I feel so full, and my breath is stolen from my lungs when you slowly withdraw.

It goes this way for a few strokes before you feel me lock onto you and my moan tells you that I couldn't hold on. I quiver slightly, and you are spurred on, kissing me passionately and thrusting equally as hard as you reach under us to grab my ass and pull me into you. Faster now with a purposeful rhythm. Grunting and moaning, you tell me you're going to cum, and you press your body impossibly closer to mine as you embrace my head and kiss me deeply, moaning your orgasm into my mouth I can feel you throbbing inside of me, and your heartbeat pounding against mine. The weight of you remains as you continue kissing my face and cheeks and, finally, my lips. I wriggle my hips, and you laugh, "ok, ok just give me a bit." I still, and we resume kissing.

#my writing

[aethercores]

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sfw : hurt/comfort, whump, slow burns, most 'to lovers' variations, pining, mutual pining, intimacy, angst, fluff, etc. etc. etc. nsfw/smut : sub or bottom charas, dom or top reader, switch/verse and fucky-leaning dynamics, role reversal, copious ass and tits, crying, rimming, cumplay, flavours of bdsm, pegging, size difference, praise, blood (sometimes), etc. etc. etc. bonus [not strictly nsfw or sfw] : complex relationship dynamics (healthy, unhealthy, anything in-between & anything outside of this), character exploration, meta, ust, motifs/symbolism, teeth, fighting and injuries

— i don't write

bodily fluids (except cum/blood/saliva, maybe sweat sometimes), ddlg, daddy kink, drug use, noncon, dubcon, suicide, incest, eating disorders, parenthood, pregnancy, periods, teacher/student, etc.

note : these are non-exhaustive lists. feel free to ask if there's anything you're unsure about/that i haven't covered !

#byf #rules

[balyena-lu]

Experiment Log - MortuaryTown

MortuaryTown Experimentation Log #RA-012

Researcher: Prof. [REDACTED] Axel

Test Subject: Anya

Description:

So far my colleagues' attempts at the integration of man-made items with the deceased have resulted in nothing more than a sickening mess of gore and trash.

I know that the integration of both can result in something as indicated in experimentation log #RA–003.  However the specific instructions on how to replicate the success of the experimentation in #RA–003 has not been recovered. The mishandling of the archive department after the search warrant investigation in January has really set us back. But with the working model still secured, barely functioning after a stupid security officer shot the test subject in their exposed ribcage but they are still viable and we can reverse engineer that success. It’ll take time but we can do it. 

Motor Test:

We’ve successfully managed to recreate a working nervous system that works for the ears and tails we’ve attached to the current test subject.

I’ll admit I was skeptical about the condition of the wolf ear, specifically the left one after it had been mauled by another of the live subjects that we brought in. However, it appears that my worries were for naught because the test subject, Anya, was able to use it to hear and the ear still has the pre-functionary capability of movement.

We’ve replaced one of Anya’s left eye with a different species specifically a cuttlefish but it malfunctioned and caused the body to leak out copious amounts of bodily fluids and we had to take a week to clean and sanitize due to the fluids containing corrosive properties. On closer inspection the corrosive quality didn’t affect the material inside the body. 

The following are the tests we’ve done to check the corrosive material.

Test A. Using the same material and reshaping it into an item that can store and contain the corrosive material the result, the corrosive fluid ate the metal.

Test B. Using the original material but the ones not placed in Anya. The result was also the same as Test A.

Test C. Using the material within Anya to create the container was the solution. It managed to hold the corrosive material even after sanitizing and cleaning it.

I’d like to spend more time with #RA-012 however the body is scheduled for disposal and thus the other experiments I’d like to do would require extensive research.

Researcher Notes:

If we can replicate the results of  #RA-012, I’d recommend mixing in the same material and the original material to see if that would work in containing more of the corrosive liquid.

Also, I’d like to personally request better ventilation as the liquid is very dense and the usual filtration masks aren’t up to par.

#lore #lore writing #original species #archived