#Sci x Lust

[ask-sibverse]

So! T1D Reader is now one year old! That's one entire year of throwing a diabetic reader at sexy skeletons lol

And to celebrate, Im doing a DITYS!

Rules

Reader can be replaced with your oc, a self insert, anyone you want really!

Exact angle and positioning can be changed up as well, but try to keep all ten Sanses in the image

Submissions will need to be posted before August 31st to be considered for the prize, which will be a priority drabble. (Which is defined as 1) your drabble is going to be completed before I work on anything else and 2) your ocs, self insert, anything you want can be requested within reason, preferably set in the T1D Reader verse though)

[please-and-no-thank-you]

Last Pride art for this month!🏳️‍🌈🎉❤️ (And remember that not everything is canon)

[largefound-incorrectquotes]

Outer: How is the most beautiful person in the world?

Sci: *blushing* I—

Lust, butting into the conversation: Dance is perfect, thanks for asking.

[ivystoryweaver]

Perfect Fit (Volume 2 of 3)

(you read that right I'm a liar as usual)

"And that simmering resentment burns, turning over inside you, fueling…pure lust."

Read Volume 1 || Perfect Fit Masterlist

Pairing: Nathan Bateman from Ex Machina x f!reader

Word Count: 6.5k

Summary: Read volume 1 first. You are staying at Nathan's secluded home, part of an ongoing experiment that involves a lot of sex with him and his lookalike android Nate. But who is who, and are you truly safe?

Content: MDNI, NSFW, you are responsible for your reading. (more below the cut) Nathan Bateman should be warning enough

Content/Warnings: sci-fi horror elements, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, voyeurism, degradation AND praise, creampie, cum eating, spitting, nipple play, impact play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral-m rec., anal sex, group sex, dub con related to gaslighting, sex with AI/androids, language, other sci-fi nonsense, violence, wounds, blood, not beta'd

✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧

"Here, taste this." You offer an oversized spoon to Nate so he can sample the vegan stew you've been working on all morning. The aroma permeates the air around you, and your stomach releases a symphony of anticipatory grumbles.

The android smirks, but it's playful, not condescending, like his creator. "You know I don't eat. Sounds like you need to, though."

"You can taste, can't you?" You challenge, nodding for him to at least bring it to his tongue.

He wets his lips, dark eyes flickering from your face down the curves of your body. "Yeah, I can taste, sweetheart." His tongue darts out to swipe over his plush lips for good measure.

"Jesus, you're as bad as Nathan," you huff, only half serious anyway. Shrugging one shoulder, you sip the stew yourself, humming at the hearty flavor. "More for me."

Nate regards you carefully for a moment before dutifully reaching into the cupboard for two bowls. "I want to, you know... Eat."

"I'm sure Nathan could make it happen," you nonchalantly reply. "I mean, there are certainly fluids that come out of your body as it is."

"Nicely put, sweetheart," Nate chuckles, presenting the bowls to you. "Nathan couldn't have said it better, I'm sure."

"Fuck you," you tease, bumping him with your hip, nodding toward the twin bowls he's offered. "Why two? Nathan eating with us?"

"You never know."

Nate was right. Determining what Nathan would or would not do, or where he might even turn up was a bit of mystery lately. You were starting to believe you all lived in a modernized house from the board game Clue - complete with mysteries and secret passages.

Nathan disappeared and reappeared at the oddest times.

But there's Nate. He's...softer. He smiles more than Nathan - laughs, even. There's a tender warmth in those earthy eyes. Or Nate's letting you think there is. Or perhaps Nathan's letting you think it. You can't be entirely sure.

Life is like this lately. Nate cooks with you, talks with you - not just at you - plays Scrabble with you, sometimes even Uno - your favorite. (Nathan doesn't even consider it a real game). You work out, swim, hike, fuck - like, a lot, watch movies, take baths...

Nate does everything a regular person might do, except use a digestive system. If Nathan really is trying to pass him off as human, you're not sure why he has withheld this particular function from his creation.

And your role as Nathan's employee has never been more ambiguous. In fact, you haven't done any actual work in a few weeks, unless spending copious amounts of domestic and coital time on camera was in your job description. (Knowing Nathan, it was.)

✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧

Nate has been venturing into your bedroom at night anytime he wants. You haven't told him no. In fact, you usually roll over and play with your toy.

This is what Nathan wants, right? For you to 'use him', to see if Nate can pass as a human? All while Nathan watches.

So you give him a show. This is apparently your work, although it feels like extended holiday.

Forget sleep. You can sleep whenever this weird, once-in-a-lifetime fuckfest ends and you are flown out of here, back to your humdrum life.

In the meantime, there's a very eager cock hard and ready as you sink down and slowly start to ride him. The stretch of him inside you pulls a moaning sigh from your lips.

Nate's hands rove all over you - thick fingers gripping your thighs, pushing up over your abdomen to cup your breasts. He likes to make you feel good - that's what he tells you anyway, as his thumbs swipe your sensitive nipples.

And this is a possible way you think you're able to tell Nate apart from Nathan.

Nathan is always about Nathan. Oh, he knows what he's doing in bed and you like everything he does. But it's for him. Everything is, always.

Nate seems different.

Probably all in your head, but as he pushes the pad of his thumb over your clit, you can't find it in you to care either way.

Besides, you keep proving Nathan wrong, at least by your own estimation, and that brings its on brand of pleasure. See, you've figured out that Nate's ego, although nearly a match for his maker's, is his weakness - or, if not a weakness, then it's at least a foolproof way to determine which "twin" is bottomed out inside your cunt.

Rolling over with him still inside, you relax while he pleasures you eagerly.

"Show me how fast you can move," is all it takes for a clearly non-human Nate to turn into your personal vibrating toy.

He looks like Nathan - feels just as good, with the same thick cock - the expanse of his defined shoulders, toned chest, corded neck that seems to invite your tongue to lave over it hungrily - but...Nate is ultimately a machine. He has more stamina and he can move in ways his master cannot...when Nathan allows it, of course.

At your urging, Nate's cock plunges inside you and you verbally "coax" his setting to high. Your Nathan-shaped toy makes you scream in ecstasy as he vibrates your pussy through a rapid orgasm, your body shaking with a euphoric rush that keeps you happily entangled in this experiment. While building toward another, Nate abruptly powers down.

The muscled weight of him pins you to the bed, leaving you not only unsatisfied, but trapped. You call for help, but you hear nothing for the next few seconds.

"Nathan, I know you're watching, you asshole," you huff, finding it a little difficult to breathe underneath the android's dead weight, let alone yell. "Get him off me." You hope Nathan's watching, anyway. You haven't laid eyes on him in a week.

You almost tremble with relief as Nathan strolls in a couple minutes later, shirtless, with black joggers hanging low on his hips.

"Something wrong, babydoll?" He casually taunts, pushing his wire frames up his nose. He gestures dramatically at his creation. "Your little toy malfunction?"

"Nathan, come on," you practically wheeze.

He snorts, and with a determined head shake, rolls the android off your body - Nate's inanimate form thumping on the bed beside you.

Then that damn question - your weakness: "You okay, sweetheart?" Easing down to hover over you, Nathan cages you in with his muscular arms, mustering a puppy eyed countenance that could almost count as concern.

"Like you give a shit," you somewhat playfully whine, squirming underneath him, pounding your fists against his chest in a dramatic pout - when in actuality, you're thrilled to see him. "You did that on purpose."

"That so?" He volleys, dark eyebrows shooting up patronizingly as he drags his fingers through your soaked folds. "He's been malfunctioning - you know this." His middle finger plunges inside you effortlessly while his thumb languidly toys with your clit.

You make no effort to stop him. If he's going to manipulate you, you might as well enjoy it - your mantra. Or maybe your excuse to endure it all.

"I don't know 'this'," you refute - your words weakly attempting to sting as your body shifts receptively to meet the thrusting of his fingers, moaning deeply as he slides two more fingers inside you and curls them forward, into that spongy softness deep within. "Where have you been? Do you seriously spend all day watching us like a TV show?"

Yanking his digits right back out, Nathan smacks your wet cunt as a warning. The sting jolts your body, as pain skitters along every nerve ending, but you crave his attention so desperately, your pussy drips, yearning for friction.

"You know how busy I am," he warns, but you moan at the rough stimulation of your clit as he smacks you again.

"Fuck me or get out of my room," you snarl, shoving at his shoulders.

He actually laughs. "Such a needy whore." He tuts condescendingly before shrugging his bare shoulders. "You don't want answers - fine, I'll put my mouth to better use."

You naturally assume Nathan plans to eat you out but he climbs back up your body and rests his elbows on either side of your head, holding his weight off you. Reaching up with his fingers, he pulls his wire frames off his face and tosses them on Nate's bare, inanimate chest.

On any other man, these stunning, deep brown eyes would melt you on the spot. And they almost do now as he holds your gaze, touching his forehead to yours.

"I have missed you," he murmurs, rendering you speechless.

Then he kisses you.

And...fuck, it's a good kiss. The heat of his breath ghosts your cheek as his fuzzy beard tickles your chin. His lips - a scandalously soft contrast to the rest of him - invite yours open, into a tangle of breath and the wet thrust of his tongue over yours.

His thumb traces the contour of your jaw with deceptive tenderness as he settles on top of you. You part for air and he stares down into your eyes, his prominent nose brushing against yours. His mouth meets yours again and you feel the weight of his clothed cock push against your drenched cunt.

He knows you like to be kissed. And how you like it.

He kisses you and kisses you and grinds the soft cotton of his joggers over your clit, dragging, agonizingly slowly, back and forth, sending sparks of pleasure and desire surging along every nerve ending as he shares your breath, cradling your face and licking into you so hotly...

And he keeps you here for an eternity - steadily grinding, making out with you like a teenager in his bedroom.

If he's taking scientific notes, which he always does - he will note that it takes you 27 minutes to come like this. He never gives you anything else, but his mouth and the steady tickle and drag over your clit as he dry humps you.

He controls the pace, because, of course he does. And you remain at his mercy, willingly.

Your back arches in rapture and he tears his mouth from yours to watch you fall apart underneath him.

Then he gets what he wants when you moan and whimper his name.

His name.

Okay, personal vibrating fuck toys aside, this was pure paradise. Your chest heaves as you attempt to catch your breath - your chest rising and falling deliciously as you come back to yourself.

"Goddamn, you're beautiful," Nathan groans appreciatively.

When your eyes finally, lazily peel open, you find him standing on his knees over you, joggers shoved down past the swell of his ample hips, jerking himself to the sight of you attempting to catch your breath.

Out of habit, you reach for his cock to help finish him off, but he gently brushes your hand away. "Just lie there," he instructs, vigorously working his dextrous fingers over the heavy length of his weeping cock. "Look fucking perfect, babydoll. Stay right there. Gonna come on your tits."

You moan his name again, locking eyes with him and thrusting your breasts out purposely before reaching to toy with your nipples, rolling them between your fingers.

"Such a dirty slut," he grunts, wetting his lips at the sight of you fondling yourself. It only takes a few more strokes for him to spill his thick ropes of cum all over you, as promised, delicious sounds rumbling out of his broad chest as the warmth of him coats your skin.

Wetting your lips, you take advantage of his split second of sated vulnerability and decide to tease him, spreading his cum all over your breasts with your fingers.

"Better clean you up," he says, before commanding Nate to power on.

Malfunctioning, your ass. Nathan probably powered the android down on purpose earlier.

"Suck her tits. Clean her up," Nathan commands, nodding toward your chest.

Nate complies, gazing down at you briefly before lowering his lips to your nipple and swirling his tongue over the pebbled flesh, swiping through a glob of Nathan's spend.

Nathan chuckles, amused, before easing down to capture your other nipple. Both men latch onto your tits, swirling their tongues and sucking you vigorously.

"Oh my god," you moan, writhing underneath them, wondering how you could possibly want anything more after a couple of orgasms this evening.

Nathan starts up again, reaching for your cunt, knowing how overstimulated you are. He's been testing your limits lately. Before you can protest, however, Nate pulls off your tit with a pop, easing up to nuzzle your neck and breathe on your ear.

"You okay, baby?"

You smile at him adoringly, Nathan notes - then responds, naughtily cramming four fingers roughly into your pussy.

"Nathan, hold on," you gasp, reaching for his arm. "It's too much. I need a second."

Slowly removing his hand, he scoffs, pinching your nipple hard with his free hand, causing you to hiss in surprise.

"Give her a damn second," Nate echoes, earning a glare from his maker.

Nathan immediately powers him down again; only this time Nate doesn't land on top of you.

"Would you stop that?" You huff, working your arm free of Nate's deadened grasp. "Your god complex, I swear."

Nathan stares at you blankly for thirty straight seconds. You're unsure if you've ever heard him shut the hell up for this long while fully conscious.

"Have fun with your toy," he spits, stalking out of the room.

You groan in frustration. Nathan is such a child sometimes. Nate was only trying to listen to you - to watch out for you.

All right, maybe you haven't been fair to Nate. You've been using him as a life-sized vibrator, but he really does seem to care.

Your mind briefly drifts to the dozens of times he's drawn you a hot bath, washed your body in the shower, made sure you had plenty of water to drink, used a damp cloth to clean you. His aftercare game is next level. He likes to whisper on your neck and hold you while you fall asleep.

Ugh, what is happening to you?

The notion of you having feelings for an android is just...not okay. Also, the idea of you having feelings for a narcissistic mad scientist like Nathan is nothing short of a recipe for disaster...or maybe heartbreak. That is, if your heart is even in it.

Is it?

At first, there was nothing about Nathan you particularly cared for on a personal level - aside from his genius. He's not even really your type.

Obnoxiously rich? Not your style. Narcissistic? Hell no.

Every word out of his mouth makes you roll your eyes. The fact that his gorgeous hair is shaved off while he has an annoyingly long beard is ridiculous nonsense. The reasoning for him wearing wire framed glasses of all looks, and doesn’t wear contacts, or hasn’t had LASIK surgery with his wealth, is absurd.

Probably doesn’t trust anyone to touch his eyes. Altough this won’t stop him from sticking his dick into damn near anything, especially if he invented it.

Sometimes the mere sound of his voice makes you tense up. No one loves the sound of his own rambling more than he does. He probably stands in the mirror and talks to himself. He probably has Nate repeat back to him everything he just said simply so he can hear the sound of his own voice.

He knows everything about everything. A maven. But not. He actually really knows. It’s infuriating.

He’s perfect. He’s active, he’s healthy, his body is a machine as much as Nate’s: eat, sleep, fuck, exercise. But instead of seeing the need to exercise as a of human deficit, (whereas Nate was built to be perfect), Nathan sees it at some sort of basic human function. He performs it without question and it keeps him in excellent condition.

Other times, you could listen to him talk for hours but you hate yourself for giving him the pleasure of your undivided attention. You like to imagine a world where he might actually value you as more than a warm body or a sounding board - something to reflect Nathan back to Nathan - but you know it will never happen. And right when you convince yourself that you are worth more than all this -

Worth more than exhilarating hikes in breathtaking nature, healthy food, stimulating conversation and work, plenty of rest, a near perfect sexual companion?

Wait, what were you complaining about again?

At any rate, right as you start to remind yourself how dangerous and self-centered Nathan really is, he always shows you tenderness - asks your opinion, checks to see if you’re okay.

Even then, he’s always right. He’s the doctor who prescribes exactly what you need to get you back into “working condition” for him. It’s always about him.

And that simmering resentment burns, turning over inside you, fueling…pure lust.

Fuck this.

Grabbing an oversized t-shirt from the end of your bed, you yank it over your head, and follow.

"Nathan, wait!" You call, jogging down the hallway after him, but he's already out of sight.

✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧

You find him the next morning in the kitchen, looking a little more bundled up than his typical short sleeved polo shirt or too-loose tank top.

"I'm going for a hike," he announces, taking what appears to be the last swig of a protein shake.

He washes the glass out in the sink before leaning against the counter. Folding his muscled arms over his chest, he gives you a once over. "Wanna come?"

You stare at him for a moment. "You...want me to come hiking with you?"

The question is barely out of your mouth before he groans. "Why do you make me repeat myself?"

"Because...I never see you anymore," you return his condescension, as if it should be obvious. "I don't even do any work for you, or with you. What am I doing here, Nathan?"

He glares at you over his wire frames, dark eyebrows arching pointedly before huffing out a sigh and pushing his glasses back up his nose. "That's what I want to talk to you about. Come on."

Nathan's not kidding about taking a hike. You climb a steep trail, thankful that he encourages eating healthy and staying active. If you had been sitting on your ass all these months, your climb would be quite a struggle. But the view from the top is nothing short of spectacular.

A magnificent waterfall cascades from where you are - a piece of heaven itself - dropping dramatically to craggy rocks below. The two of you sit, enveloped by the roar and refreshing mist the waterfall grants you. And, as if listening to nature itself speak, Nathan is, for once, quiet.         

You take the rare and unrestricted opportunity to watch him, unguarded. He really is quite beautiful, beneath the constantly shifting, condescending eyebrows, glasses that are sexier than glasses have ever seemed to you before, and his bushy beard. Damn, he wears it all well. 

You continue on this way, in ethereal comfort,  unwilling to be the first one to interrupt this unexpected serenity. 

After a while, he turns to you and holds out his hand. "Ready to head back, sweetheart?"

You can't help but smile at the conundrum that is Nathan, allowing him to help you up.

"It really is beautiful here," you comment on the hike back down. "Definitely different than being surrounded by androids."

He spares you a glance over his shoulder, but doesn't reply for several more minutes.

"I have to be here, for my work," He informs, nodding around you. "It's...balance."

"The artificial versus the natural?" You question, expecting a condescending remark.

Instead, he regards you with warmth, allowing you to catch up to walk beside him, instead of following his lead.

"Something like that."

"Hmm..." You nod, keeping step with your complicated, brilliant, mysterious boss. "What am I doing here then?"

He rolls his eyes but one corner of his mouth curls. "Upsetting the balance."

✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧

Of course an interlude like this with Nathan eventually turns sexual. It is your primary connection to one another, after all, beyond even that of employer/employee.

He takes a quick shower and suggests you soak in the tub while he makes dinner. You don't even make it to dessert before he's all over you.

Which reminds you...Nate has been powered off since yesterday. Maybe Nathan wanted you all to himself.

Perhaps that’s wishful thinking.

As if reading your mind, however, Nathan explains that Nate needed some recalibrating. You mistakenly assumed this would involve you as an employee, but Nathan has other ides.

"Just say the word and I'll leave him off," Nathan flippantly suggests...while he's balls deep inside you.

Breathlessly gasping, you respond to the fusion of your bodies joined, moving perfectly in sync after doing this too many times before. Nathan knows every expanse of skin- every dip and valley. He knows full well how caressing your hip bone causes you to shift against him - creating delicious friction. Fingertips rake across your abdomen tracing each and every insecurity, igniting you with desire and confidence, even. 

Nobody has ever known you like this, touched you, pulled you apart so expertly. Truthfully, you couldn't and did not know ecstasy like this even existed. And the bliss of sexual gratification feels so much like lovemaking that you don't even know what to think or feel anymore. You only know that you crave him, every day, all day. 

And you're somehow meant to be here with him, in this wild experiment, existing in this chaotic sci-fi bubble. Your body fits his so well that sometimes you feel like - androids aside - you really were made just for him, to fit him perfectly. 

"He's your experiment," you counter, finally answering as you roll your hips to meet his expertly timed thrusts.

"Don't tell me you miss him," he groans, gripping your hips and driving into you deeper, eyes darkening at the challenge.

Your back arches off the bed as he hits that spot you love. "I missed you, Nathan," you pant, pushing your hands over the breadth of his sculpted shoulders to tangle behind his neck as you pull yourself against the solid heat of him, your bodies pressed together at every point. "That's the truth. I've missed you."

Answering you with his mouth on yours, he kisses you while you fall apart for him and keeps going until he's coming inside you.

He collapses beside you, panting against your cheek, his hefty thigh slung across yours as you come back to yourselves.

"Are you happy here?" He quietly whispers against your skin.

"Yes," you breathe wholeheartedly. "Most of the time. Is this really what you wanted when you brought me here?"

He huffs out a sardonic chuckle. "Sex? Obviously."

"No, I mean...'upsetting the balance' - what you said earlier." Scrubbing your fingers over his fuzzy hair, you silently curse the warm, fizzy yearning inside you. "I don't think anything could ever upset your balance. Always in control."

Rolling onto his back, he stares up at the ceiling. "You haven't noticed this all revolves around you?" He circles his finger in the air.

"Mmm...sure seems that way when I don't see you for a week," you smart off, already missing his touch and attention.

"That's why you have Nate," his eyebrows shoot up playfully as he props up on his elbow to face you. "Someone to play with."

"Well he's not you. No matter how much of a genius you are."

"Shit," he huffs, amused. "I don't know if I should be flattered or crushingly disappointed in my work."

As if on cue, Nate saunters into the room naked as the day he was invented.

"Somebody missed me?" He teases, sounding a lot like his creator.

With a smug smile, Nathan motions to your naked body. "Somebody missed me. You not up to the challenge? Can't keep her satisfied?"

Climbing off the bed, Nathan walks around to stand right where your face is. "Open that pretty mouth for me," he commands, ignoring the android for a moment.

Nate groans, clearly annoyed by Nathan's condescending dismissal - but the emotional response only manages to please his creator. Every time Nate acts human, it serves to stroke Nathan's ego a little more.

To your surprise, he beckons the android over, instructing him to be the one fuck your mouth. You're so curious to see what Nathan has in mind that you comply without protest. The sight of your naked body draped across the bed, head hanging off the edge, tongue out, has Nate hard instantly. Nathan watches eagerly as you start sucking off his creation.

Nate seems to have gotten over his brief moment of attitude as you take his cock in your wet mouth and get to work.

"So pretty like this, sweetheart," Nate praises you. "So good to me."

Your body warms at the encouragement - such a sharp contrast to being called a whore all the time - which also makes your pussy quiver, to be fair.

Moving around to the other end of you, Nathan traces his thick fingers over the curve of your ass before spreading your cheeks apart and spitting on your tight hole. You moan around Nate's cock, knowing what's coming. You have no objection to being used by these two, and your pussy could use the break.

Nathan pushes his thumb past your tight ring of muscle, teasing you and opening you up for the intrusion of his cock. You're used to him playing with your ass by now, but the stretch always gets to you. After applying some lube, he eases slowly inside, groaning at how tight your ass always feels squeezing him.

Full of cock on both ends, Nate strokes your cheek, praising you while Nathan calls you a greedy whore (again).

"She's not a whore," Nate protests. And this is the first time you hear a full out argument between an android and a human.

Nathan laughs out, nodding down toward your writhing, naked body between them. "Look at her. She's getting nothing out of this - taking it up the ass while your fake dick is cutting off her air supply. Who would let us do this besides a cum dumpster whore?"

As if that's not the meanest thing he's ever said about you, he punctuates his declaration by spitting on your cunt before slapping you there.

And you moan.

Nate roughly pulls out of your mouth, jarring your head as he does.

"You can't actually want this," He accuses. "Not from this piece of shit anyway." He gestures at his creator, who smirks triumph, or perhaps he simply finds Nate's display entertaining.

Gripping your hips, Nathan thrusts into your tight hole faster, spearing you so hard that you know you'll be sore.

"Nathan, it's..." You trail off, your voice a pathetic whine.

"Feel so good squeezing my cock, babydoll," He encourages, licking his lips at the sight of your wildly bouncing tits.

"You're hurting her," Nate lowly growls taking a brave step forward.

"She wants it," Nathan argues, spanking your cunt a few more times in rapid succession, the stinging sensation making your clit throb as you shriek in surprise. "Do your goddamn job and put your cock back in her mouth."

"My job is not to hurt her," Nate passionately defends. Instead of giving his creator anymore of his attention, he eases down beside your bucking body, brushing his fingers over your cheek.

"Do you want him to stop?"

Nathan laughs at him. "You're pathetic."

You can't help yourself. Something about Nathan's dismissive treatment of you, railing your ass while Nate tries to defend your honor has you right at the edge. Or maybe you just like an audience. Nathan’s always known how to push your buttons. Your eyes roll back in your head and you feel like you could come again, with the slightest stimulation.

But you glance between them and you know this is different. Something is way off with these two.

“Wait,” you huff, realizing this has all gotten a little too weird. “Nathan, wait.”

With an annoyed growl, he pulls out of you, hands landing on his hips as he takes his 'ready to lecture you' pose.

“You two need more time alone?” He bites, glancing between the two of you. “A week wasn’t enough?”

"Why don't you fuck off?" Nate snaps, shoving Nathan's shoulder. "She doesn't even know what you're really doing here."

You scramble to your feet, eyes wide and worried. "Nathan?"

"Can you believe this?" Nathan scoffs, but not really to you. He seems to be talking to himself. "Fucking unreal."

Nate shoves him again and Nathan immediately powers him down. Nate hits the ground with a bone-crunching thud and you gasp out, hands covering your mouth.

Seeing you truly disturbed gives Nathan pause.

"What is going on here?" You demand, stalking across the room to grab a robe to wrap around your naked body. "Why are you and Nate at each other's throats?" Kneeling down beside Nate, you roll him over, checking to see if he's...damaged.

You glare at Nathan. "Answer me."

Gesturing animatedly, he huffs, "You saw him. I told you you he needs recalibrating."

"No. You two were having a dick measuring contest - "

"I didn't see you complaining about my dick," he bites back.

"Stop avoiding the question," you scold. "What is going on here? What's Nate talking about? What don't I know? Why am I really here if not to work? What do you want from me?"

When he hesitates, you let out an annoyed sigh, more frustrated with your own expectations than with him. "Nevermind," you sigh, stalking toward the bathroom. He really is going to continue stringing you along, you suppose.

Normally, he isn't one to follow, or play emotional volleyball. He doesn't need to chase you because you're always available to him. But something draws him to you this time.

"Sweetheart, what the fuck?"

You ignore him, barreling through the bathroom door and closing it behind you. He barges right in, uninvited. Amidst all the weirdness, he's maintained an impressive boner.

"I left you alone for a week, with Nate - that doesn't make you happy." He talks demonstratively with his hands, despite the fact that he's stark naked and you're attempting to splash water on your face. "I spent an entire day with you - no androids for two days - that doesn't make you happy either. Why are you being so damn cryptic?"

You can't believe what you're hearing. Turing off the faucet, you glare at his reflection. "Why the hell do you care what makes me happy? Since when does that matter to you in the least?"

"What makes you think it doesn't matter? I just asked you tonight if you were happy."

You shrug him off as he reaches out for you.

"You know what, Nathan? Forget this. I-I need to leave. I need a break from this place. You're never going to tell me the truth about anything."

He scoffs as if you couldn't possibly be serious. "You can't leave."

You shove past him, out of the bathroom. "What do you mean I can't leave?" You demand, gathering some clothes so you can get dressed.

Nathan reaches for his own pants, jerking them up his legs agitatedly. "You know exactly what I mean. You're stuck here for now, sweetheart."

Ugh, you're in no mood.

"Get out of my room." You point to the android. "And take him with you."

✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧

The next day, Nathan is absent. But so is Nate. You can't seem to find them anywhere and the silence chills you to the bone.

So you pack your suitcase because you're done with this bullshit. You want to be here, but you've lost all objectivity and you need a break if nothing else. It's been fun and wild, but there are some serious warning signs starting to freak you right the hell out.

Another day passes and you see no one.

On the third day, Nate comes to your room in the middle of the night. He slides into bed with you while you're tossing and turning.

"Are you okay?" You whisper, although there's no reason to keep your voice down as Nathan is surely listening anyway.

"Are you really going to leave?" Dark eyes bore into yours as his hands grip your hips and pull you flush against his body.

"I don't know," you answer honestly. "I don't see any point in being here anymore. Not if I'm not going to work with Nathan and the two of you are going to pretend I don't exist."

"I'm not doing that," Nate insists, touching his forehead to yours. "I can't help it if he powers me down. I missed you."

And he kisses you, passionately.

Your body tends to automatically respond, but this has all gotten too bizarre.

"Nate, stop, hold on," you protest, gently pushing him off you.

"I know you want to leave," he confesses, nodding toward your packed bag. "I just...I wanted to spend one more night with you."

You actually consider it. Then against your better judgment, you do.

Because you're leaving. And because at least a piece of your heart belongs to Nathan. And Nate was Nathan's gift to you.

Nate fucks you so slowly and sweetly that you cry - maybe from overwhelm, or from confusion, or because it's over. Maybe because you think you'll never be with Nathan like this again.

He carries you to the tub when you finish, lets you soak, washes you, pats your exhausted body with a fluffy towel and wraps you in a luxurious robe.

"You must be hungry, sweetheart," he whispers on your ear, dragging his palm up your thigh as he helps you work lotion into your skin.

Sometimes this man is pure heaven. Except...he's not a man.

"Why are you so good to me?" You murmur, laying your head on his shoulder.

He finishes moisturizing one leg and switches to the other, a little smile pulling at the corner at his lip. "You know why."

You chuckle, even as he tickles your foot teasingly. "No, I don't."

Locking eyes with you, he pauses. Wiping his hands clean, he touches your cheek. "I was made for you."

Clearing your throat, you avert your eyes. "As an experiment?"

"I don't care why," he shakes his head. "I love you."

You falter, your gaze dropping. "How can you be sure?"

"I'm sure," he insists, lifting your chin up so you'll look at him again. "And I know you feel for me too. Don't you?"

He keeps searching for your gaze.

"Nate...I-I can't."

"But why?" He presses, his voice soft and pleading - warm brown eyes softer than you've ever seen his, or Nathan's.

Wetting your lips, you shake your head. "Because, you're a...machine."

His eyes go cold. Silently he stands up, eyes raking over your body. His hands land on his hips, making him look just like Nathan. "You think I'm not real? That because I was built I can't feel things?"

"I didn't say that," you protest, rising to join him. "I-it's my fault really. I've let this go on too long and for too far. This was supposed to be fun. An experiment, I thought. But I'm so confused."

Feelings will definitely make this far messier than it needs to be. Of that, you're certain, because of the strong feelings you harbor for Nathan. Which is why you desperately need to get out of here.

As if things couldn't get more awkward and disconcerting, Nathan decides to grace you with his presence.

"Nathan, what do you want?" You groan. "And where have you been?"

Smugly folding his arms over the breadth of his chest, Nathan nods to the android. "Didn't want to miss the big love confession. Don't let me stop you."

"Don't be an asshole," you huff, realizing he must have been watching, as fucking usual. "I am seriously over this. Get out unless you're here to tell me about my ride home." Or unless he plans to confess something too?

"I told you. You're not leaving." Dark eyebrows arch over his wire frames.

"You can't keep her here," Nate interjects, stepping between the two of you protectively.

"Nate, please, I'm fine." You turn back to Nathan. "What is really going on here? Why are you two having some kind of pissing contest?"

Nate frowns, confused, but Nathan rolls his eyes.

Just then, the power switches off, bathing your room in an eerie red light.

Nate springs into action. "Get your bag. Time to leave. Now."

Nathan tries to power him down but it doesn't work. "What have you done? What the hell have you done?" He barks at his android, seeming truly frantic.

Even though Nate seems inclined to help and protect you, it's Nathan you turn to in your confusion. "What's wrong?" If Nathan feels out of control of a situation, it can't be good.

But before he can answer you, the glint of a silver blade catches your eye. Nate brandishes a weapon and forcefully shoves it into Nathan's bare chest.

"Can't power me down, can you, asshole?" He snarls, pulling the blade out with a bloody squelch and thrusting it back into his abdomen even as you scream, horrified.

The next few moments rack your body with fear as tears burn your eyes, clouding your vision. You sink down beside Nathan, sobbing, pressing your hands down over the bleeding wound on his chest. The knife remains in his abdomen.

"What did you do?" You cry, flinching when Nate turns his gaze to you. Trembling in fear, you inch back, wondering if you're next.

"Nate, please," you whimper. "Why are you doing this?"

"Not to you," he passionately returns, reaching out for you. "I could never hurt you. I - I did this for you. I love you."

"This is not love," you cry. "We have to help him."

"Why? Don't tell me you love him."

Your shoulders shake as you lean over Nathan, blood oozing between your fingers. There's no one around for miles. Nathan's going to die and you're going to be stuck in this weird ass mansion with the robot who murdered him and who knows how many other robots.

A moaning sob rips out of you as you realize how foolish you've been, letting Nathan toy with you all this time instead of demanding more answers or insisting on leaving.

"You do, don't you?" Nate shakes his head disbelievingly. "You love him. After everything he's done to you. Fucking unreal."

That phrase niggles at the back of your mind, but you're too horrified to realize...

"Hey...it's okay." Nate kneels down beside you, reaching for your hand. You whimper and shrink away, assuming he means to kill you too.

So much for loving you. Asshole.

"It's okay, sweetheart. Look..." Nate reaches for the knife embedded in Nathan's stomach. Instead of yanking it out, he cuts deeper, dragging the knife across his abdomen, all while you scream for him to stop.

A wave of nausea roils throughout your body as he peels back a bloody layer of skin to reveal...machinery.

In fact, past the initial layer of skin, there's not much blood at all.

Your vision blurs and the world goes black.

✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧ ---------- ✧

Thanks for your patience! I always write an extra chapter than I intended. It's my signature move. I'm sure you're used to it by now. xoxo

P.S. I know we love soft Nathan and funny Nathan (I certainly do) but in this story, I wanted to explore the genre more closely related to Ex Machina and what I fully feel the film's Nathan Bateman might be capable of. (Or Nate??) Thanks for reading!

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[midnightstarshadow]

Okay, I have more stuff to add about some of the gods

This'll be part of the fics too so if you don't want spoilers, then you have to wait some more

The gate to the mortal realm used to be open to all the gods, but then the God of Creation (that's right, it's Ink) fucked around one too many times and got found out

So now it's guarded by the God of Space (Outer :D) and Time (TK, who's from an AU that I've forgotten the name of, but remember the story very vividly) and they don't let anyone go through unless they absolutely have to

So the God of Death (you'll never guess... It's Reaper :0) can go to the mortal realm to reap souls with no issue, but say... the God of Chaos (Fresh) wanted to go and set furbies loose into the medieval kingdoms, he would not be allowed through

This is why Crescent needed Lust's help to get through because he wouldn't be allowed through without good reason

He gave him a 'task' to do and since Lust often has people play cupid for him, that wasn't weird at all so they let him through without asking any further questions

Except Crescent didn't really tell them where and when he wanted to go so they just sent him somewhere random so he looks a bit like he's wearing modern pajamas in a medieval fantasy world

And also because while trying to make a reference sheet for him, I realized I didn't know what I was doing but was too far into the drawing to stop

I will not make this mistake when I start Cross's sheet

can i hear about your god au?

Yes, you may, and I am now going to ramble about it :D

I'm gonna turn it into a series of fics soon (It's called Breaking Prophecies and Fulfilling Them) so if you don't want lore spoilers, you can wait, I guess .w.

So basically, the God of Knowledge (Sci, because whenever something goes wrong, people go to him) has the ability to know about the future and he doesn't like spitting out prophecies because people tend to hyper-fixate on them

I mean, just look at Bruno from Enchanto and you'll understand how he feels

But when Sci gets startled, the prophecies tend to slip out and in this AU, there are two main prophecies

Darkness will rise and be purged by the Sun's chosen

Darkness is not good, obviously, and the Gods would like it if their worshippers were not threatened because they need to draw their power from somewhere

However, Sci accidentally lets another prophecy slip when he hears the God of Fear (Nightmare, obviously) has some fun with a mortal (Killer) and gives birth to a demi-god

The Sun's chosen will be deterred from defeating the darkness by the child of the moon

Crescent realizes the other gods don't like him except he doesn't know it's because of his prophecy since Nightmare didn't tell him and thinks it's because of his mortal lineage :(

So he goes to the mortal realm with the God of Marriage and Fertility's help (Lust, who treats him like a grandson) and meets Cross, a demon who has been raised in slavery

Cross was beginning to lose hope in the Gods because he kept praying for one of them to help him get free from this mistreatment and did not receive an answer until Crescent came along and helped him, inadvertently preventing Cross's villain backstory

Cross no longer has a reason to be mad at the Gods (as he thinks Crescent is a minor one because he recognizes the language he speaks as the gods' language, even if he can't understand it) and instead wants to pay back Crescent's help by serving him because that is what he was raised to do, after all, and Crescent is good to him, unlike the people he has served in the past

Crescent does not realize that Cross is attempting to serve him and thinks that they're friends now, which he is very happy about because who doesn't want friends?

They later meet Swap, a priest who was given a mission by the God of Joy (Dream, of course) to kill a very specific demon

Swap eventually realizes this demon is Cross, but is very confused because Cross doesn't seem very hostile unless you threaten Crescent, which Swap would never plan on doing because that's not who he is and even if it was, he also thinks Crescent is a fully-fledged God and no priest wants to get on a God's bad side

He starts ignoring Dream's wishes to kill Cross, telling him that he won't kill someone who has done no harm to anyone which in turn confuses Dream because this demon is literally prophecied to attempt to destroy the world

He then begins to look into things and once he realizes what's going on, he thinks it's the funniest thing ever and waits for the other gods to figure out what's happened

Meanwhile, Nightmare's looking for his son who has apparently become an adventurer

This entire AU hinges on a bunch of silly misunderstandings, none of which are actually harmful because we all need a little crack treated seriously in our lives sometimes :3

[cillians-sweetheart]

would you write for neil lewis? i would literally take anything, i need his nerdy dick in me😓

Yes, of course 😋

Good Boy - Neil Lewis

Sub!Neil (23) x Dom!Girlfriend (19)

Plot: Neil's girlfriend, Y/N, who is much more experienced, plays around with her sweet little boyfriend on his couch.

Content: smut, unprotected pv, submissive x dominant, hand job (m), riding, post-orgasm play, teasing, praise and pet names (f & m), and couch sex.

Neil sat with his body sprawled out onto and off the couch. His attention was purely on the space themed movie on the TV in front of us. My eyes gazed up and down his lanky, thin, pale body. But of course he hadn't noticed.

I had met Neil just a few weeks ago in his geeky movie store. full of action figures and sci-fi movie posters. His awkwardness as he attempted to greet me at the door made my insides blush. He was so shy, and cute like a baby deer. It made me want to absolutely devour him.

I tried to keep my attention to this movie he desperately wanted me to see, but the way he sat in those thin track pants made my thighs instinctively squeeze together. I've never slept with Neil, nor have I seen what is causing my spreading wetness in my little shorts, and the stiffening of my nipples.

Slowly I began to move myself closer to him. He peered over for a second as I moved, but the movie still stole his eyes from my obvious arousal for him.

Gently I ran my hand along his soft, dark hair. His head turned to me and with my hand I held his face and pulled it to me. It seems now he has finally realized I am here, and his girlfriend. He shook out of his daze from the movie and poured his attention onto me.

His big blue eyes melted as he looked into mine. The innocent look in his eyes made my body ache in need to feel, and touch him.

"D-Do you like the movie..?" He asked with my lips just seconds from kissing his.

"Sure" I grinned and giggled before holding his face with both hands, kissing him affectionately. His plump, pink lips kissed back, but he struggled keeping up with mine. Soon the kissing became nothing but a mess between our lips.

My gentle hand began to travel down from his cheek, slowly over his chest, to the stiffening bulge in his track pants. He whimpered and groaned against my lips as I squeezed, and rubbed him. The fabric of his pants became tight and lifted around his needy cock. As the long shape of him formed beneath his pants, I teasingly ran my finger tips along the hem of his pants. His hands desperately rubbed over my waist and down to the softness of my butt which peaked from beneath my shorts.

I went back and forth from his pulsing, covered cock, to the hem of his pants. His eagerness grew and slight wetness began to leak through the tightening fabric.

He winced, and whimpered for my touch and for me to release him. He could've very well done it himself but he knew that wasn't going to happen; that I would allow it.

Finally to relieve him just slightly I reached under his pants and grabbed stifling onto his warm cock, pulling it out. He exhaled deeply with the pressure gone, but his arousal was still growing and pulsing with bits of pre-cum. I rubbed my finger over the smooth, pink tip causing him to twitch and squirm.

The whimpers coming from his sweet lips filled me with satisfaction and lust. It was addictive. And with a firm pressure and glided my hand down his hard, wet cock. I squeezed going down and messaged his perky tip going up. I held it in my palm, and the wetness squelched as I grasped and rubbed his tip.

His body twitched and his breath was unsteady and heavy. He sounded like he wanted to say something but every time he tried it came out as nothing but a moan.

I kissed his face, and his neck. My hand began to stroke him harder, and faster. His hips lifted slightly as his cock ached for more. I moaned as I kissed his sweet freckled skin. The feeling of his throbbing cock in my hand just felt so good.

"Mmm... you're such a good boy..." I said just barely lifting my lips from his skin. He shivered and moaned. My hand squeezed tighter and stroked faster. The pleasure clearly overwhelmed him.

I slowed my hand down, almost stopping. He whimpered and begged, "P-Please...!" He cried and I lightly circled his tip with my finger.

"Does that feel good baby..." I purred in a seductive voice as my fingers still tickled his sensitive tip.

"Mhm.. Mhm" He moaned, and I grinned at his reactions.

"Do you want more?" I asked as I kissed, and sucked on his neck.

"Please... please... I-I'm-" He shivered and trembled as my hand began to stroke again along his hot, stiff cock.

"You ever been touched like this before...?" I asked. Neil quickly shook his head, still breathing heavily. "Well only I'm allowed to touch you like this, understood?"

"Yes.. Yes" He moaned, and nodded to the best of his ability.

"You're my sweet boy..." I rubbed faster. "With such a beautiful cock.." My voice was smooth as silk in his ear.

Neil's hips lifted more, and he twitched in my soft hand. His whimpers and moan became an overwhelming mess. My hand didn't slow down, but sped up after his hot, white cum began to eagerly drip and flow from his throbbing tip. It dripped down my hand and all over his pants.

He made the sweetest sounds as I continued to pump his squirting cock. His legs shook and he held tightly onto me. I couldn't take my eyes off the beautiful mess of his overstimulated cock.

Finally after I've decided he's had enough I let go. His cock fell weak onto his shirt. He painted and continued whimpering from his sensitivity. But I wasn't done.

I pushed Neil onto his back on the couch and crawled to straddle his thighs. It all happened so quick, and to Neil it seemed as if I had teleported on top of him.

I ripped my tank top off and pulled it over my head, revealing my perky breasts and hard nipples. Neil's eyes melted to them and he groaned under his breath.

I leaned back and quickly moved my shorts down my smooth legs. Completely nude on top of Neil, I ran my hands up and under his shirt over his thin torso. His stomach was hot, and sweaty under my delicate touch.

With ease of our combined wetness, I slid, and squeezed down his thick cock. Again he whimpered with mercy and great pleasure. My tight, warm pussy swallowing his every inch. I couldn't help myself, or wait a moment longer to feel him pounding from inside of me; to devour his needy cock.

My hands held onto his sweaty bare skin beneath his nerdy t-shirt, and my hips weighed down onto his re-hardening cock. And still, he whimpered and begged for release.

Neil's hands squeezed and held onto my bare ass. His body and legs twitched with my every clench.

"Please!" He whined and begged. "Please, please... I'm gonna cum." He moaned deeply.

"Yeah? You wanna cum in me baby?" I leaned forward to him, my face just inches from his. My voice making him shudder.

"Mhm" He whined with the aching pleasure on his pulsing cock. "please... I-It feels so good..."

I stopped my motion, holding his cock deep inside me. "Be my sweet boy and beg..." I stared down at his pretty little face, just pleading with his eyes to cum.

"Please... I'll do anything for you!" He moaned. I grinned and leaned forward to gently kiss him. Then sitting back up to ride him until he came again deep in my pussy.

He shook and groaned, clenching onto my thighs. His hips bucked up into mine as his hot cum shot through me. Pounding through his orgasm with all his force.

His hard pounding hit me right where I needed it. "Neil!" I moaned while I held tightly onto his shirt. His cock beat my cervix in all the right places. His eyes stayed glued to my bouncing breasts while his last drops of his sweet cum spurted in me.

I rode him through all of it, leaking mine and his cum down my thighs and over his weakening cock.

Again I fell forward to him, kissing his whimpering lips. "My good boy.." I praised, holding his face in my hands.

"I love you..." He trembled. His sensitive cock still beating against my tight walls.

[mytheoristavenue]

TMNT 2012 Raphel Hamato x Reader - Give Me a Chance

This was a commission from @virtualdonutenemy, thanks for the work! For any questions regarding commissions, go here.

Summary: After Raph watches your date with a classmate go south, he makes sure not to waste you getting all dolled up.

Warnings: Inuendo, angst, fluff, lime, possessive!Raph, overprotective!Leo, sheltered!Reader, rebounding, lust, sad/desperate!Reader, perv!Raph

You weren’t capable of letting down your smile. There was just no way, you were too excited. After months of subliminal flirting, bashful compliments, and loaning pencils, the cute guy in your comp sci class had finally asked you out and you couldn’t be happier. 

Carefully, you drug the felt tip of your lipgloss wand across your bottom lip, pursing and puckering to spread the shimmer evenly. Glancing down at your phone, you read the time and beamed again. You’d have just enough time to put on some earrings and shoes before having to leave. After doing so, you did a once-over in the mirror, twirling and giggling at the way the hem of your dress flew outwards. Suddenly, as if to rain on your parade, your phone began to buzz, shimmying around in its spot on your bed.

You were expecting to see the name of the gentleman you were meeting tonight, probably calling to cancel your evening plans. The name of your ‘eldest brother’ scrolling sideways across the screen brought you little relief, though. If the boys found out about your date, no doubt they’d try to interfere.

“Hello?” you answered cautiously, pacing through your living room.

“Where are you right now?” Leo’s stern voice rang out through the speaker.

“Home, why?” you asked, secretly impatient as you checked the time. Now you were definitely going to be late. 

“Hang tight, I’m on my way.” The announcement was so sudden that you hardly had time to react but blurted out a flustered opposition.

“N-No, I have a date!” Silence befell his end and you began to wonder if the line had gone dead or he’d maybe lost signal somehow. 

“A date?!” Leo furiously sprang back to life. “With who?!”

“The guy I told you about the other day…?” you murmured, hoping he could recall the conversation well enough for you to avoid elaborating.

“You didn’t tell he’d asked you out!” He pressed further, irritated at your lack of communication. 

“I knew you’d freak out!” you reasoned, a distressed tremble in your voice. “And besides, I didn’t think it was your business!”

“Your safety is our business,” Leo argued, stony as ever. “(Y/N), you know the rules.” The ‘rule’ in question forbade you from doing most things that required you to leave your home unless for school, or to visit the lair; on the few occasions you were allowed to, you were to wear bland clothes. Nothing attention-grabbing like the low cute, crimson red spaghetti strapped cocktail dress you now wore. “There’s no way you can be discrete in that dress, what if someone sees you and follows you home or worse-”

“Please, Leo!” you suddenly interjected. “I rarely ever leave get to do anything and I really like this guy! Please just let me do this one thing!”

The eldest sibling paused for a moment as if taken back, before finally sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Do you promise to be careful? Call us if anything- and I mean anything- goes wrong?”

“I swear, Leo!” You promised, holding your fists tightly to your chest, likely to keep your heart from beating out of it as you waited for his response. 

“Fine,” he reluctantly submitted, shaking his head on the other end. “Have fun and be careful, okay?”

“I will, thank you so much!” You squealed, excitedly stomping in place before abruptly hanging up, presumably to be on your way.

Rolling his eyes and pivoting to return to his training in the dojo, Leo froze when he noticed Raph standing in the doorway to said room, peridot eyes zeroed in on the exit. Before the older knew it, he was being passed by as the other turtle prepared to leave. “Don’t follow her,” Leo warned knowingly, crossing his arms as his younger brother bustled about the room to gather his things. “This is a terrible idea and you know it.”

“Leo’s right, Raph,” Don piped up, exiting the lab and trekking to the kitchen, empty mug in hand. “You know how she gets, there’s no way this is gonna end well for you.” The first pair both glanced up at the new player in the conversation before going back to it. “I’m just sayin’ I speak from personal experience,” the brainiest turtle continued, pouring his umpteenth cup of coffee for the day and stirring additives into it. “Give her some space, man.”

For just a moment, the hotheaded brother halted, taking his family’s advice into account, before ultimately deciding that, he wouldn’t heed it. “Yeah, whatever. You guys don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he grumbled, continuing his descent down the stairs toward the exit of the lair. 

Obviously, the others didn’t know you the way he did, he thought. They didn’t know how clumsy and gullible you could be, how badly you needed his guardianship. That's what he told himself anyway, it would be much too embarrassing for him to admit that the real reason he was following you out on this date was to pretend that the guy you were going out with was him.

—--

You stifled a giggle, kicking your legs beneath the table and clenching the rusty satin of your dress in your fists, all in an attempt to calm yourself before your date arrived. Admittedly, you were a tiny bit disappointed to find that your date was nowhere to be seen, even though you were five minutes late yourself. Nonetheless, you got a table for the two of you, ordered a pair of waters and an appetizer, then waited. The tantalizing smell of garlic bread enticed you as it sat untouched in the middle of the table. You thought it was probably bad etiquette to start eating without your date.

Minutes ticked by as your throat became more and more parched- no doubt a product of your constant nervous swallowing. Surely, it wouldn’t be too rude to sip your drink while you wait. Before you realized it, your glass was nearly empty and a waitress was at your side offering a refill. She glanced down at you with a sympathetic smile that you didn’t quite understand at the time before turning and hurrying away. Another check of the time revealed your gentleman caller to now be nearly fifteen minutes that, though to you it felt more like thirty. Screw this, you were hungry.

One basket of bread and another refill later and you found yourself obsessively checking your phone for any word from him, only to find yourself sorely disappointed every time. You were very rapidly beginning to lose hope, when suddenly, your phone vibrated, dancing about on the table. You hastily checked it to find a text from the man of the hour:

“Sorry, can’t make it tonight. Sick.”

You hadn’t even noticed the tears well up in your eyes until you felt them roll off your chin. Even though he’d excused himself as ill, you still felt so…unwanted, so cast aside. Shuddering, you instantly flagged down the waitress, desperately trying to conceal your hurt. You just wanted to pay out and go home.

—--

From a nearby rooftop, Raph watched the entire scene unfold with glossy eyes. It almost reminded him of the pilot to a show you’d made him sit through last summer, only this wasn’t a sitcom. This would likely have a lasting effect on your self-esteem. 

He was a little relieved when you finally stood up and stormed out of the restaurant, frantically wiping tears away with your wrist. You were a bullet train now, racing down the avenue needing to get home as fast as possible. Startled, Raph jumped to his feet, seeing his time to intercept you being diced into seconds. In the blink of an eye, he was on the wet pavement of a sketchy alleyway, stalking behind as your figure darted between cars and tall structures. 

Suddenly, he halted in his pursuit of you- what would you say if you found him following you? There was a good chance you wouldn’t just fall helplessly in his arms like he hoped you would. Was there a way he could surprise you and sweep you off your feet without letting you in on his possessive tendencies?

—--

Wailing, you barged into the lobby of your apartment complex, face hidden in your shoulder as you blew past the doorman, cutting his greetings short. Too embarrassed to sit in anyone’s presence long enough for the elevator to arrive, you burst through the stairwell door, clumsily speeding up them, tripping all the while and crawling back up yourself. After falling up four flights, you finally reached your floor and bolted for the exit, fantasizing about the way your plush bedding would envelop you in security. Still sniveling, but with sanctuary within reach, you shoved your key into the lock and threw the front door open, only to fall forward into the apartment dramatically, catching yourself before gravity could take over.

Exhausted, you haphazardly tossed your belongings onto the floor, shedding layers and accessories as you traversed the space. Heels in the hall, purse on the couch, and earrings on the kitchen island, you finally reached the bedroom in only your red cocktail dress, dainty necklace, and smudged makeup. As your fingers gripped the door handle you stopped, smelling something smokey, possibly with a floral hint. Alert to a possible intruder, you raised your guard and prepared for the worst before gently pushing the door and letting it creak open on its own.

Beyond the door, Raph lounged on your bed, waiting for you to arrive home. Surrounding him were throw blankets and pillows, an open take-out box with a steaming pizza, piled with your favorite toppings, and a rose-scented candle burning on the nightstand. Illuminating it all was your television, set on the menu screen of your favorite childhood film, the remote control resting on his chest. “Welcome home,” he said cooly, voice full of gravel, but a languid smile speaking volumes. You couldn’t hold back the sobs that poured from your throat as you lurched forward, collapsing against him.

Raph went rigid beneath you, having been concealing his anxiety about your reaction for quite a while. As you heaved and wept against him, he eased back into you and slowly wrapped you in his arms, hushing your woes. “Dollface, what’s the matter?” he asked carefully as if he didn’t already know.

“Leo was right,” you shuddered. “I never should have gone out with that stupid prick!”

“A date, so that’s where ya been?” Raph asked lightheartedly, pushing you away by your shoulders so he could see your face. “No wonder you’re all prettied up.” Your heart skipped a beat at his words and blood rushed to your face. “Now tell me who that asshole is and what he did to you.” 

“H-He…” you sniffled, sitting up fully on your knees and in between his. God, you looked so vulnerable in that position, and the way the ruching of your dress pulled your waist in- That wasn’t the point. “He just never showed up…” you muttered weakly. “He didn’t tell me he was sick ‘til way after he was supposed to be there…” You couldn’t keep yourself from crumbling again, falling back into his arms. 

“Shhh…” he cooed, scaly hand caressing your shuddering back. “I got ya, babe, it’s okay.” What seemed to be hours passed with him simply holding you as you cried when you finally spoke again, albeit in a quiet and broken tone. 

“R-Raph, do you think I’m pretty…?” 

“My God, babe, is that even a question?” he suddenly snorted, prompting you to erect yourself to gain distance from him. He could plainly see the hurt in your eyes as you loomed over him, though his eyes were elsewhere- darting all over your body and eating you up. “Like seriously, how honest do you want me to be, 'cause we’ll be here all night.”

“I don’t want you to lie…” you answered, anxiety bubbling up in your blood. 

“I mean where do I start?” he laughed, hands ghosting over your hips, but never actually making contact. “You got these perfect hips and that pretty face, tight ass,” he smirked as you flustered more and more above him, eyelids becoming heavy with want. “You’re a total fox baby.” he dazzled, finally laying his hands on you. “I always wanted to make you feel pretty, just give me a chance baby and I swear, you won’t ever doubt yourself again.” You felt dizzy under all his attention. You’d always had a feeling Raph had a crush on you, but you never would have thought him so passionate. Gradually and instinctually, you leaned closer to him, hazily sealing your lips against his, humming lightly. Kissing him felt so natural, and so necessary, neediness taking you whole.

“(Y/N), I love you,” he confessed, eyes trained on your lips as he parted from you. You weren’t entirely sure whether or not to believe him, as everything around you moved so fast but you felt so special… “So whadaya say, dollface? We got food, your favorite movie, and all night…” he persuaded you, pulling you closer into his lap. “I can help ya get changed into something a little more comfy if ya want...”

Finally, your painted lips curled into a beaming grin and tears pricked your eyes once more, this time for overwhelming joy. “Okay, let’s do it.”

Taglist: @sunshinesdaydream @helpyaw @thelaundrybitch @momii @camillahorne26 @turtle-babe83 @fyreball66 @sharpwindow @roseygardenfan @witchofthenorthstar @pheradream15 @post-apocalyptic-daydream @hyunonion @killmewithafanfic @virtualdonutenemy

[olderthannetfic]

You recently mentioned that you've been out since your teens. As a person who managed to overlook a shitton of signs and only realized she was bi in her early 20s, I am wondering how you realized you were bi and also how you found out bisexuality exists?

Sorry if the phrasing sounds weird, I only noticed I was bi because I stumbled over the term on tumblr in 2016 and was like "oh, that's possible??" and then my earlier identity crises during my teens due to feeling attracted to multiple genders and being like "I'm crushing on [female person]. Am I lesbian? Nah, I've also felt attracted to [male person]. But I can't be straight either because this attraction feels the exact same. Am I broken?" were suddenly resolved with the realization that bi is also an option and that I'm not broken due to zigzagging between heterosexuality and homosexuality, but rather just bisexual. In retrospect, it's absolutely ridiculous that it took me so long, considering that as a kid I had crushes on Anna and Carter and Doctor from Harvest Moon: Friends of Mineral Town, and Vitani from Lion King 2, and back in primary school, I used to go to the kids' section in the library and look at the first pages of a sci-fi comic which had one or two women get out of a lab or space station thingy and go bathe in the nude in the first few pages. I don't remember what it was called or what it was about, but tbh I'd love to find it and actually read it properly this time lol.

--

Horniness. The hornier you are, the easier it is to notice.

But also... well...

The 80s were all about combating the AIDS crisis and trying to get basic recognition of the humanity of gay people (at least in the US circles I was familiar with). The 90s saw the rise of a much more organized bi rights movement.

And then we backslid.

In the 2000s and 2010s, interest in bisexuality as a distinct thing fell off a cliff as far as I can tell. The "hey, it's not just cis gays and lesbians" energy moved first to trans topics and then to asexuality but without bisexuality joining the stodgy old guard.

The 90s were different. I was hitting my teens just as Anything That Moves hit its stride. I bought that shit at the bookstore. Yeah, this was the Bay Area, but they carried it at all the regular bookstores, not just the gay ones.

On Usenet where I spent a lot of my tween years, one of the big groups was soc.bi. I even spotted them having an in-person meetup in a restaurant in Berkeley where I happened to be having dinner with my parents. I didn't go say hi because I was like 14.

My big eureka moment, though, was on alt.tv.x-files when two groups were having a satirical argument about who enjoyed The X-Files more: people who got to lust over David Duchovny or people who got to lust over Gillian Anderson. Someone showed up and was like "Hah! I get to enjoy it twice as much as all of you! I'm bi!"

I was like "That's a thing????" I'd grown up with very liberal parents and lesbian neighbors, but like a lot of boomers, my mom was pro-gay and deeply clueless about all other queerness.

--

So the answer is unsupervised internet access in an age with no algorithms plus things like bisexual magazines actually existing.

RIP Anything That Moves.

[junipers-insects]

Nobody ever considers Classic x Ink

I lied, put your hear me outs away, we're doing a ship hear me out cake, all ships welcomes, rare or common (except proships and stuff like that, you get out, your not welcomed here).

I'll go first, cross x crossbones

[axolotlwrites]

"Writer's Block"

SubElliot x M!Reader

Yeah, so this one took a while. Sorry to keep y'all waiting, but good things come to those who blah blah blah. It's food to be back, and I'm proud to deliver some smut.

My next piece is undecided as of now, but I'll get back to yall soon about it. Have fun.

CW: anal sex, anal penetration, unprotected sex, anal creampie, mentions of clinical visits and implied injuries, mentions of violence, and being obscenely cheesy

To tell the truth, you hadn’t read any of  Elliot’s prior, shorter works before you had actually become friends with him. It’s not that you weren’t an avid reader, nor that you weren’t particularly interested. His work was just one of those things that fell into your blindspot during the hazy, depressing Joja days. There wasn’t much time for reading when there was a “weekly” quota to meet, and you were expected to fulfill that quota in a couple of days. 

But, after moving to the farm, you suddenly had a large chunk of time on your hands. Turns out, farming is just a lot of sitting around and waiting, if you don't count the occasional bouts of fishing and cutting dangerous  monsters to ribbons (or, alternatively, getting cut to ribbons and having to stop by the clinic and get lectured by Harvey and Maru. You were fairly sure you could kill some of those stone golems with how thick your case file was after a couple years in the valley.)

However, after getting to know the man past a quick introduction on your first foray into the beach, you’d taken a gander at some of his work. Various stories in various genres; mysteries, sci-fis, a small fantasy novel that hadn’t been entirely finished… he was a storied author, but he hadn’t actually published anything yet. The genre that had stuck out to you the most, however, had been his romance novels. The man’s tendency for flowery prose and language fit well in such stories of love, heartache, and occasionally lust. 

The latter, however, wasn’t always Elliot’s strong suit in writing. Elliot was a romantic man, and physical intimacy was always a part of that, but writing actual sex scenes seemed to be a weak spot for him. He could write smut well, there was no doubt, but as his lover you always noticed how… flustered he would become. While writing his newest novel, coincidentally about a “handsome and rugged” farmer boy and an aspiring writer, he’d cooped himself up in his room several times this week, but the start of autumn had creeped up on you. You’d been too busy to notice the way his face turned red whenever he looked out of the window of his study, watching you plant new crops and tend to the animals. Too busy to notice how whenever he greeted you after your farm work, his touch lingered on your arm as you planned out the next day’s work in your head. Too busy to notice his disheveled hair and clothes whenever you knocked on his study’s door to bring him dinner.

And quite frankly? It was driving him fucking crazy. Elliot was up the fucking wall with desire, filling pages and pages full of the most illicit smut he could think of. He spent hours pouring over those pages for typos and grammatical errors, but every time he looked at the pages he thought of you. Elliot thought of your hands around his neck, your hands in his hair, forcing him to take you deeper and deeper, his back arched as you pumped deep into him from behind… but the fantasies wouldn’t cut it anymore. He needed to feel your skin on his, needed your hands around his hips and your lips lingering for more than a chaste peck. He needed to feel you whisper, sweet and breathy, into his ear as your hand stroked him to completion. He wanted everything, everything right now… but he had a semblance of restraint. He would at least ask politely before he begged you to tear him apart.

Finally, a week into the season, he got his chance. Rain had finally come, the auto-feeders were filled, and you were free. Elliot had been draped over you in his sleep, his hand across your chest as you slept on your back. He gazed upon your sleeping face, letting the pitter patter of the rain on the window soothe his mind, as it ever wandered. Eventually, the allure of the crook of your neck was too much to bear, diving in softly to feel your warmth on his lips. He had to stop himself from grinding against you as he took deep, long breaths of your scent in.

You awoke to his hand caressing your cheek, his breath heavy and warm on your neck. You moved slowly, wrapping your arms around him to pull the rest of him flush against you. If you were any more conscious, you would have felt his length pressing against your leg. You turned your head to look at him, the smile on your face coming naturally. Your voice was soft, glazed with the sleepiness that marks the recently awakened. “Good morning, Elliot.” His hair was disheveled, tangled, and thrown about, but through it all you could still see his handsome face. Framed by the soft early morning sunlight seeping through the window, you didn’t care to stop yourself from staring.

It was quiet, despite the one-sided tension. You were relaxed, gazing into your lover's eyes, but his mind was going utterly feral. You’re always amazing to him, always, but in this light? At this moment? No words could describe his utter attraction towards you. You were nothing less than the most gorgeous being on the planet, and he knew it for a fact. Said beauty stunted his response, forgetting to remove his head from your shoulder to speak. It was muffled, but you got the gist of it; something like “Good morning, my darling.” As he fell back into your neck, his hand snaked its way into yours, as warm and soft as it’d always been.

However, your body had other ideas. It had been in that bed for eight long hours, and it needed to stretch. As you did so, tensing and relaxing and spreading your body out to work out the stiffness of sleep, you felt it. You could feel it, hard against your thigh now, and you weren’t foolish enough to believe it to be anything other than Elliot’s penis. You were about to just chock it up to morning wood, until you felt his breath quicken against your shoulder, his hand grip yours tighter, and a barely stifled moan breach his lips.

Sensitive… he was always so sensitive when he was pent up. The oddities of the week started to piece together inside your head, clicking together ever so simply. You were stiff, for a moment, painfully so… similarly, his cock was STILL pressed against you as you debated and questioned in your head what to do. A conclusion came quickly, however, and with that you turned to him and brought a hand to his face. You chased his lips with a passionate fervor, wasting no time with words that you thought would just get in the way. He breaks the kiss quickly however, proving you wrong as he straddles you.

“I need you, my love. Badly.” It’s short, breathy, lacking his usual smoothness and charisma. These are words tinged with just as much lust and desire as love and passion. “I need you to fuck me, darling. I’ve needed it all week.” His hips move feverishly against yours,  a look of strained arousal on his face as he rubs himself against you. Your hands move to them, slowing his movements as you take control of the situation. He groans in protest, but you pay him no mind. After all, he’ll be feeling much better once you get those pants off of him.

Pulling off his sweatpants while he relentlessly grinds himself into you is no small task, but it’s easy compared to keeping yourself from ripping the fabric of your boxers. Truth is, this whole scenario almost had you as riled up as him, straining against your underwear while he raised his hips so you could pull his off. His shaft and balls rested heavy on your stomach, painfully hard and red, throbbing as it felt the warmth of your skin. Elliot looked down at you, his breathing heavy as he tried his best to contain himself. You were little better, your hands resting on him, one on his hips and the other on his thigh. Slowly, you slipped your hand between the both of you and pulled your cock through it’s fabric sheath, gazing into his eyes as you stroked it slowly.

“How do you want me, Elliot?” Your hand stroked his thigh, grounding him in the moment as you spoke. As he answers, he rubs his knuckles over your stomach, the other resting on his leg. “Like this, my dear. I want to look at you. I want to look into your eyes.” It's shaky, but it's said with a grin and a comforting tone. You sit up slightly, your cock resting against his ass as you look at him. He nods, and the fun starts.

You line yourself up to his hole and begin to ease yourself in, wary of how tight he is. Elliot braces himself on your shoulders as you push inside, a long groan escaping his mouth as you stop about halfway inside. You clash your lips with his as you fully push inside, muffling each other’s moans. You hold him close, lazily thrusting into his ass as you bask in his body. You keep looking up into his eyes as he looks down into yours, composure lost as he moans quietly into the air. Your hands roam his body as he shivers in your grasp, one hand resting lightly on his ass, the other gliding up his back, slowly coming to the back of his head.

Your hand rests in his hair, pulling him closer so that you could line kisses along his jaw. Elliot whined into your ear as you pumped into him, reaching the deepest parts of his body as he ground his hips into yours. He was so pretty like this. No wonder you couldn’t keep yourself from pulling his hair, giving you the perfect angle to lay kisses on his neck. He couldn’t stop himself from bucking down onto you harder when you bit his neck. You couldn’t help yourself, instincts taking over as you left your mark on his body. As you ruined him, inside and out, he moaned and cried out in pleasure, your hand still pulling his hair to get better angles to lay kisses and bites.

Elliot wasn’t going to last very long. Right then, all of his most lustful desires were being fulfilled, and he couldn’t be more satisfied. The love of his life was balls deep inside of him with no intention of pulling out, and he couldn’t be more in love. His cock was rubbing against your stomach, and he couldn’t feel closer to the edge. “My love… I’m… not going to…” If your hand hadn’t been in his hair, he would’ve collapsed into your shoulder, crying out as he peaked. He tumbled over the edge of orgasm with a loud, drawn out moan as you wrapped your hand around his cock. As you stroked him to completion, he whimpered and melted under your touch, cum splattering across your stomach in a vulgar display of love.

You, however, weren’t done. You were getting closer, every thrust becoming a monumental hurdle. He was no longer grinding against you, as exhausted as he was, so you were fucking up into him at your best pace. As you inched closer, you hesitated, whispering into his ear. “Can I… finish-” He interrupted quickly, exhaustion fading under a burst of excitement. “Inside, my dear, inside of me. I want your cum inside of me…” Your response was swift, firmly clashing lips together as you held his hips and thrusted up into him as fast as you could. You brought yourself to your climax quickly, holding him down on you as you filled his hole with a nice, thick creampie. 

You crumpled back onto the bed, Elliot falling with you as exhaustion took its toll. You were sticky, tired, and covered in cum. You were also in a state of absolute bliss, holding your lover tight in your arms as the both of you recovered. He held you just the same, whispering praises and affirmations into your ear as he tried to regain strength in his legs. It was his suggestion that the both of you get in the bath, one that you quickly agreed to. Slowly, (with slightly unsteady legs on Elliot’s part) a warm bath had been set and soaped up, bubbles overflowing onto the bathroom floor.

You laid there, in that warm bath, Elliot resting against your chest as the rest of your muscles relaxed. Holding his waist, you let your face fall into his hair. It wasn’t wet yet, but just as soft as it had always been. You held the love of your life in his arms, a smile running across your face as you thought of the next time he might have such a lustful case of writer’s block.

[ze-fanatic14]

Helltaker x AU Sanses. I recommend you play Helltaker, it's such a fun game and most importantly: demon waifus.

1/?

Cross (Jakei95) as the helltaker

Sci (AU Community) as Pandemonica

Lust (NSFWShameCave) as Modeus

Ccino (black-nyanko) as Cerberus

Dust (askdusttale) as Malina

[shhh-secret-time]

hello ^^, i saw your secret soulmate au about craig, i don't have the words to explain how much i giggled, twirled my hair and everything XD! well, when you have the time, could you do a craig x clyde x reader smut? of course, if you feel comfortable with it! reader can be female or gn. it's practically normal smut but just craig fucking the reader from behind and clyde from the front, so that's it! tysm for reading, i love your writing too! <33 -✨️ Anon (I'm still new to tumblr so i might get confused on some things sometimes!)

Completely understandable, I too am confused with how tumblr works and I've been on this godless site since fucking Dash Con. I'm glad you liked the way I wrote those dorks! And thank you for fueling my Clyde agenda!

Warning: NSFW, Strong-Language, Dirty Talk, Slight Sub/Dom dynamics, blow jobs, orgasm denial, threesome

Pairing: Clyde x Fem!Reader x Craig

The sweet air of the votives swirls around the empty church. Empty except for the dim orange and red light that illuminates the book in the man's hand.

A woman at his feet, clothed in fine silks. A mix of reds and whites that twine together. Beautiful patterns of stars flow across the dress.

She dips her head in prayer alongside the man. The father of the church glides his fingers across her cheek as her mouth closes. Reciting scriptures of one's devotion for an unseen God. Everything in that moment was peaceful.

The warmth in the Father's eyes doesn't go unnoticed, the greens darken with a desire that he knows better than to have. It's difficult to hide the growing ache in his pants. More so when the woman's lips curl into a mischief smile, the warm glow of the candles makes them shine with an otherworldly glow. She looks up at him and her eyes fall deep into those pools of lust. Her hands break apart from that folded prayer and onto his black dress pants. They card up further against his thighs where they settle and clutch the material.

"Father, bless me...", a whisper that makes the Father groan.

Temptation never looked so sweet. This woman made his chest pound. Unholy thoughts flood his mind and go straight to his-

You let out a loud groan. Your forehead drops and hits the table beside your keyboard. The forgotten mug with now cold tea rattles.

Writer’s block, the very bane of any author’s existence. It's been haunting you for weeks now, making it impossible to get anything done. You've been stuck on this part of your romance novel the entire time. A part you were so excited to get to!

The buildup was perfect! You had calculated, plotted, and carefully crafted a budding romance between a witch and a holy man. A forbidden romance that took place within the walls of the church, the furthest outside the walls it went were the gardens that surrounded the area. The two fell in love after he saved her from the townsfolk claiming sanctuary.

Inspiration struck you like lightning after you fell in love with your partners. After publishing a sci-fi series, that honestly changed the name of how science fiction would be written forever, you met two fans at a book signing event. You had made a surprise appearance at a local library in some little town called South Park. Coming from the big city yourself, it was a huge surprise that anyone in the little town would actually be a fan of yours.

Apparently, you had quite a few. A man with bright red hair who had a black-haired man following alongside him. Both gushed about how the story inspired some kind of board game they played with their friends. A sweet blond woman who had the cutest southern accent you've ever heard. She gave you a piece of fan mail that had the most adorable sticker on it. Another black-haired man who dressed as Spock for some reason. He went on for a solid thirty minutes about a fanfic he wrote regarding the main character of your book and Star Trek's very own Captain Kirk.

Finally came the oddest duo you had ever met. The two were like day and night, a cat and a dog, fire and ice; the whole nine yards. A bright smile with baby brown eyes on one, and an ice-cold deadpan look with amber eyes to match on the other. At first you thought the brown-haired one was your fan and the man with the blue hat was just along for the ride.

"Haha! No way! I'm not into that..." He paused as if to stop himself from saying something he shouldn't, "...kinda stuff."

"That kind of stuff?" You repeat back at him, raising a brow.

"He means reading. He doesn't know how." The other spoke putting a hand on top of his head. With a little push he forced the brown-haired man's head down.

You giggled at that. The protests coming from the poor man was comical. You almost felt sorry for him, watching him struggle to move the taller man's hand off.

"Then I take it I'm signing this book out to you?" With a click of your pen, you look up at him.

The NASA jacket on the bright blue sleeves of his jacket should have given it away honestly. There's was a small tinge of a blush on his tan cheeks, almost hidden under the skin tone but you were able to make it out under the light. He looked away for a moment before nodding at you.

"Yeah."

"Name?"

"His name is Craig! He's a huge fan of yours by the way! So, if you could write something sweet for him that'd be awesome!" His friend chirped at you as he broke free from Craig's grip.

Craig's face twisted, those piercing eyes of his narrowed down. Before he could reach and grab him, the brown-haired man slid behind your chair. Putting his hand on your chair, he bent down to your level and tapped the blank white page.

"As you can see my big guy has a baaaaaad case of resting bitch face."

"Clyde..." the warning that slipped out of Craig's mouth made a shiver roll down your spine. It was even directed at you, and you felt threatened.

"So, you gotta imagine my surprise when he came home smiling! I was shocked! He didn't even smile when we started going out!" Clyde ignored him, an attest to his bravery. Or foolishness. Either way he continued, leaning down next to your ear. "Your book made him so happy, so it makes me happy. Think you could do that for me? Because he'll never ask you to do it for him."

You look up at him for a while, not even bothered that he had gotten closer to your face as he spoke. The browns in his eyes flickered with mischief but there were layers of love behind them. Chocolate that seemed to melt into tiny hearts when he spoke about Craig. It was honestly sweet, even if he was trying to tease his partner.

"How can I say no to that? I'd love to." You smiled at him and began writing on the empty page.

Yeah, who would have thought that fate would tie you to those two like that. Falling in love with Craig and Clyde was nothing like what they wrote in books or movies. It was a tornado of events that landed you in the eye of it all.

Despite their polar opposite personalities and looks, the two worked off each other well. Then when you got thrown in the middle, you filled in a little spot they desperately needed.

Clyde was social enough for the three of you. He was the one who reminded you and Craig that you needed to get out of the house. When you lock yourself away in your office, he would drag you out with a fun date idea. Movie nights, football games, arcade dates, and his favorite late-night walks. Doing the same to Craig who always seemed buried in work.

Craig gave off such scary dog privilege that you and Clyde never felt threatened. You could take those late-night walks with Clyde because you knew nothing would touch you with Craig following close behind.

That was nice sure, but under that scary looking shell was a soft teddy bear of a man. While he wasn't vocal with affection like Clyde, he was observant. Craig remembered everything, everything about you and Clyde's interests. If he saw something you mentioned in passing it was yours. Clyde needed new shoelaces because the ones on his favorite pair of red shoes were tearing? There was a new pack waiting for him on the table. You complained about the shift key on your keyboard sticking too much? An adorable keyboard that looked like a typewriter was found on your desk the next morning.

Then there was you. You have no idea how these two survived this long without you. Truth be told they don't either. Craig and Clyde couldn't cook to save their lives. Their diet consisted of diner food and Chinese takeout. While their house was clean enough, laundry was never put away or folded. Clyde was horrible at putting his dirty laundry in the bin and Craig was too tired most nights to even make it to bed. The final straw was when you took a shower, and their only soap was 3 in 1.

Absolutely not.

So, when you moved in things changed. When Craig was at work, you would take Clyde grocery shopping. Slowly you started him on simple dishes, working with him until he was comfortable in the kitchen. What was surprising was that he took to it quickly. He was a natural and before you knew it, he was cooking things you had never heard of. He had gone as far as looking up Peruvian dishes, practicing with spices and techniques that had your mouth watering. When you asked how he learned to do all of this, he gave you the biggest grin and told you it was YouTube.

When Craig came home that night to Chupe de Camarones it was the closest to crying you've ever seen from him.

Clyde really stepped up after that, feeling a sense of pride in taking care of you two. Seeing as you worked just as hard as Craig did. Clyde proclaimed something about being more than happy to be a malewife.

In return Craig started taking better care of himself, actually starting to care about his health. He stopped staying up so late and made use of the giant bed. Clean sheets and blankets that felt good on his skin. Even better that you and Clyde would be in it waiting for him. Clyde long passed out on your chest, a bit of drool sliding down the side of his face and onto your shirt. Not that you seemed to care as you just continued to read next to the little bedside lamp. Only pausing when you felt Craig's presence in the doorway.

Craig's smiles were rare, little treats from the universe to you. Ones like these where he smiles with love in his eyes. Where he kicks off his shoes and strips down to his boxers, crawling into bed next to you. Arms wrapping around Clyde and with a hand settling on your hips. A silent squeeze lets you know it's time to put the book down and join him.

How can you say no to a smile like that?

Of course, not every day was perfect. Your relationship took time to hash out. It was different being with two individuals at the same time, but you made it work. The three of you were committed to one another.

Now if only you could commit to this fucking scene.

Your head’s little meet and greet with the table must have been louder than you thought because whatever Clyde was yelling about in the living room stopped. It was one of the rare weekends where Craig was home and off work. Choosing to spend it watching some show with Clyde, listening to the man ramble on about something.

So wrapped up in your thoughts, you let out a scream when you finally lift your head and Clyde is right there beside you. His body bent over just like the day you met him. With his hand on the back of your chair and his face next to yours. Except instead of using, you as a shield from Craig, he's reading your computer screen.

While he doesn't understand what it takes to be an author, he sees the effect it has on you. Days like this where you take on the posture of a shrimp, forgetting to come out to eat.

His lips start pursed, but as he continues to scan over the screen they break out into a smirk. He covers his mouth in a fake surprise, a gasp with widened eyes.

"Babe! This is...scandalous! Spicy, naughty even! What are you doing writing something like this?" His dramatic act continues, forming some feign surprise.

"What are you doing using words with more than one syllable?" You shoot back with a little smirk.

It takes everything in your power not to laugh at the actual pout on his face. Try as you might, the giggles escape your lips, and it makes him smirk. He leans down and nuzzles his nose into your cheek.

"Maybe you're starting to rub off on me babe! I'm getting smarterer with you around!" You know he said that word wrong on purpose, just to get under your skin.

But he kisses you quiet before you can say anything. Holds your face in his hands so you can't pull away. You can taste the cherry chapstick on his lips, and the growing smile along with it.

"So, what's got you bashing your head into your desk baby? Craig and I heard a thump and got worried." He moves the kisses towards your forehead.

"Was it that loud?"

"Heard it over the tv." Craig's voice almost makes you leap out of your skin.

You bite your lip, looking down at the keyboard with a distant stare. The faded green and blue, spots where your fingers had smudged away the paint from typing so much.

"I'm just having trouble with this scene. I've been stuck on it for weeks now." You exhale softly.

Craig raises a brow and leans down on the other side of you. Both Clyde and Craig bent over to take a look at your screen. You're not sure why the fact both men reading your unfinished work makes you feel nervous, but it does. Or maybe it's the fact this is your first time writing a spicy scene like this.

"It's good. Never would have thought you'd go the Priest kink route." Craig says it so matter of fact, there's never hesitation in his voice. You can count on one hand the number of times you've seen him flustered, and even then, his tone is flat.

"I-I’m not into it! I just- you guys are only reading a snippet of my book! There's been a romance blossoming between the two the whole time!" You try to defend yourself, but it only makes Clyde's lips tug into a smirk.

The temptation to tease you was too great, it was being handed to him on a silver platter. Clyde leans up and walks next to Craig, leaning into his chest. The man wraps his arms around himself and lets out a dramatic sigh.

"A forbidden love! A tale as old as time! But what I wanna know babe-" Clyde stops and lets the tension build. It makes you glare at him as you turn in your office chair. "-is why the witch's descriptions are reaaaally close to mine."

"That's a woman Clyde! She's got short brown hair because it was cut off when she was running from the townsfolk! Brown eyes are common and beautiful! There's not enough representation for them!"

"Aaaaaand her dimples?" He points to his, the little spots in his cheeks that sink in when he smiles. "Plus, my eyes are totally beautiful."

"It's not you!"

"Oh, and the Father isn't Craig. Tan skin, black hair? You gave the Father green eyes but other than that, it fits Craig to a T." Craig actually nods along with what Clyde is saying. He's got his eyes closed as if this is some kind of philosophical debate.

"Are you serious right now Clyde?! This is why you two aren't allowed in my study!" Your face was burning now, hot and flushed from his teasing.

"What did I do?" Craig breaks the little fight with a simple question.

"Nodding your head along! You know what he's doing and you're encouraging it!"

"So, you took inspiration from your partners in your romance story. It's cute." He responds with a shrug. He looks down at Clyde who's still smugly leaning against his chest.

Your mouth falls open, you go to respond but nothing makes its way out. Your brows furrow. Arms crossed under your chest in a pout.

Had you unintentionally based your characters off your partners? Is that why the romance novel was easy to write up until this point?

Whatever the case may be here, you didn't like being called out. So, you do what you always do when they get like this, you turn in your chair and ignore them.

Usually this works, let's them know that you're not in the mood for their games. That you'd rather be left alone than entertain another minute of their shenanigans. But this time Clyde wasn't going to let you go. He grabs the back of your seat and wheels you back towards him and Craig.

"Baaaaabe don't pout. Look I'm sorry~." No, he's not. "But hey I've got an idea."

You let out a little huff, enough to where he knows you're not actually mad at him. If you were you would have picked your chair up and walked it back to your desk. Instead, you sit there and wait for him to continue.

"You're stuck on that scene, but I think you need a break. Sitting here and bashing your head against the table isn't going to fix that. Soooo..." He trails off, moving to stand in front of you.

His fingers glide across the side of your face, cupping your cheek so gently. Clyde guides your face up to look at him, behind that cocky smile of his he's got such love for you in his eyes. The way his thumb brushes across your cheek, making your heart flutter so slightly.

"What do you say Craig and I help you out a little babe?" Clyde guides your face up towards him. He presses his thumb against your lips just as his voice dips into that playful whisper.

You raise a brow at him in response. It's not until Craig puts his hand on your shoulders, that you piece together this wasn't just his idea. Thumbs pressed into your muscles working out the knots and tension. For such a hard worker, somehow Craig's hands always stay so soft. The worn-out oversized t-shirt you stole does little against his hands. The material is thin from how often it's been washed and worn.

His hands pull a soft moan from you, it feels too good to keep yourself silent. Clyde pushes his thumb past your lips and into your mouth, the digit presses down on your soft pink tongue. He all but purrs when watches you wrap your lips around it.

"See...let's work out some of that tension. We'll make you feel real good and give you a little inspiration." Clyde hums as he pulls his thumb out, smearing the saliva across your lips.

When he doesn't continue, you realize he's waiting for your confirmation. Waiting for you to agree to their little plan. But that doesn't stop Craig from bending down and placing a kiss on your cheek. He trails the kisses down to your jawline, using his nose to nudge your head to the side. Lulling your head to the side, you gave into the feeling. Craig's lips move to capture the exposed skin. You can feel just how eager he is from the way the kisses turn to nips then to full on bites. His teeth sinking into the soft parts of your flesh pulling another sharp gasp from you.

"Come on honey. Let us take care of you." After he's done leaving small love bites on your neck, Craig moves to your ear nipping the shell.

"Y-yeah that sounds...that sounds good." You move your hands up towards Craig, running your fingers through his hair. One of the rare moments he's not sporting his blue hat. "I could use a little break..."

"That's our girl." Clyde's praise goes straight to your core. He lifts you up from your office chair, hands cupping the back of your thighs for support. They give your thighs a little squeeze, digging his fingertips into your flesh.

Craig moves out of his way and goes to push your office chair back towards your desk. Clyde chuckles softly seeing the confused look on your face. Instead of protesting you wrap your arms around the brunette lazily throwing your arms around his neck.

"We're supposed to be relaxing, we're gonna get nice and comfy on the couch." He drops you down on the couch, making you bounce a bit. He laughs when you let out a gasp of surprise.

"You ass." Your grumbles fall on deaf ears. Clyde just runs his fingers through your hair and gives it a harsh tug. It makes you cry out, craning your neck up towards him.

"Sweetheart, that's not very nice. You're being a brat right now." He tuts, feigning disappointment.

"You dropped me on the-" You suck in another cry when he tugs your head to the side, that firm grip on your roots sending a shiver down your spine.

"Hm? You were saying something? I did what?"

Clyde's smug little smirk made your blood boil. But his fingers in your hair felt too good to protest further. Especially when he switched between tugging and massaging his fingertips into your scalp. You watched his eyes flicker from yours to behind you. Before you could turn around to get a glimpse of what he was staring at, Craig's hands slid down your back.

Gently, much more than Clyde, he pushes you down towards Clyde. His other hand comes down to grab your ankle, pulling your leg back towards him. Once your knee is tucked against the couch, he does the same to the other leg.

If your face wasn't burning up before it certainly is now. Just as you go to hold yourself up with your hands, Clyde removes his hand from your hair and takes you by the wrist. Guiding you up towards him, he places them on the hems of his sweatpants. The grey university sweatpants do little to hide his hardening cock, you watch it twitch against the fabric.

"This is about where you left off right? She was about to take the Father's cock out of his pants?" Clyde says watching as you slowly pull his sweatpants down. He lets out a low chuckle that turns into a moan when you slip your fingers around his cock. "That's it, now keep your eyes on me baby."

There's a moment of hesitation as you bring the tip closer to your mouth. The bright red tip glides across your plump lips begging for you to open. His hand returns to your hair, smoothing down your locks from his earlier manhandling.

The gentle touch makes you look up towards him, just like he requested. There really was something so intimate about those chocolate brown eyes of his. Past that smirk and layers of darkened lust, there was devotion. The feeling of your hands on him alone made him weak in the knees. You put that to the test, pressing just a little kiss on the tip. Dabbing your tongue against his leaking member. Just from that alone he's letting out the prettiest moans.

"Sh-shit, c’mon don't tease me." That cocky attitude of his melts. You almost laugh at how easy it is to break him down. He was puddy in your hands.

With a little hum you move your hand up and down his shaft, creating enough friction to make him buck his hips towards you. He nudges his cock further into your mouth, pushing past your lips. The underside of his cock glides down against your tongue, smearing the pre-cum along with it.

So caught up in your little game, you almost forgot about Craig behind you. Almost. It's hard to forget him when he's got his hands all over you. Large palms cupping any exposed skin. Craig takes his time exploring every curve he can get ahold of. His nose nuzzled into the back of your head. His breath tickling the shell of your ear. Just the sight of your mouth around Clyde's member alone is enough to make him growl.

Neither men are patient when it comes to you. Craig shoves whatever is left of your pajamas down and off you, he doesn't bother with your shirt as it'll pull you away from your lover. Instead, he decides it'll make the perfect handle. He bunches it up until it collects at the collar. His hands grip the shirt and tug it backwards, making your hips rock back into him.

Somewhere along the way he stripped away his pants. The barrier between the both of you was the thin material of your underwear and his dark blue boxers. While Craig wasn't as vocal as Clyde was, with his teasing and little whimpers, he could be just as unfair if not more.

Grinding against your cunt slowly, grabbing and groping at your ass the entire time. He digs his nails into your skin, leaving little crescent moons. Craig rewards good behavior not with sweet words, but by giving you what you so desperately want.

He waits until you've got all of Clyde's cock in your mouth before he finally shoves your underwear down. It makes it to your knees before he just decides to leave them there. Too many times he got impatient and just ripped them off, and too many times you scolded him for it.

The hand in your hair pulls you back from his cock. Clyde moves your head back just enough to where only the tip remains, then slowly he brings you back down. Pushing you all the way down his length until your nose hits his stomach. You watch as his muscles flex under his skin like he's trying to resist letting his head lull back. He needs so badly to keep his eyes on yours, loving the attention you're giving him.

"Your mouth feels so good." He whines when he reaches the back of your throat. You gag around him, and it pulls another whimper from him.

Your hand slides down his thighs, using it to hold you up. The other hand is still being held by Clyde's grip. His hand wrapped around your wrist, holding it up near his shoulder. Craig waits until Clyde rocks you back again, using the momentum to slip inside your wet folds. A pleased hum rumbles from his chest. You can feel it from how he's pressing his entire body against yours.

Just as slowly as Clyde moves your head, Craig pushes further into your cunt. The two find a slow and steady rhythm with one another. When Craig snaps his hips against you, it pushes Clyde's cock further down your throat. Your moans vibrating around him causing him to moan loudly in return. Clyde's whimpers and whines get louder when you dig your nails into his thighs. In return the grip on your hair is tightened. Creating this delicious cycle of pleasure.

"Baby, please. I wanna fuck your throat. You gonna let me? I need it so bad, please." Clyde's begging spurs something in you. Gives you the feeling of control even if you’re physically stuck between the two. From the beads of sweat that trail down his body and the way his body is shaking, you know he's at his limit.

You're able to pull back just enough, his cock springs up with a little bounce. Craig slows down just enough to let you talk, but you can tell he's not happy about it. The way his grip on your shirt tightens, you're sure he'll rip it soon.

"If I snap my fingers, you stop, okay?" You say giving him the okay. He caresses your face and presses a kiss onto your face, letting you know he understands the boundaries you've set.

At first, he's careful when he pushes his cock back into your mouth. You reward him with a swirl of your tongue, rubbing against the veins that are popping out.

"He's so needy." Craig huffs as he leans back up. The assault on your neck stops, but he's left it covered in bright red and purple marks. No amount of makeup will cover up what he's done.

You don't need to see him to know that he's smirking at it. Taking pride in the fact that he's marked you up. Or the pride making Clyde blush from his comment.  Craig's hips snap back into you, the force much sharper than his previous lazy thrusts. They're calculated, each time he pushes deep inside you he hits that spot that has you seeing stars. Clyde's hips take up the same pace, shoving his cock into the back of your throat.

Tears begin to well up in your eyes, trickling down your cheeks. Moans turn to muffled cries, yet everything feels too good to stop. They're rough paced fucking brings your mind to a haze. All you can focus on is feeling good and making them feel good.

Craig's close, you can tell from the way he starts to lose rhythm. He's having a harder time controlling those grunts and growls. A hard time not leaving bruises on your skin from how rough he's holding onto you. He's long since let your shirt go, instead grabbing onto the back of the couch. But he waits until he feels that familiar clench around his cock. The way your walls clamp down around him as you cum. The only warning being the high-pitched muffled moan that gets swallowed by Clyde.

His hips slam into you one more time before he pulls out. Grabbing the base of his cock, he shoots that hot thick load onto your back. Heavy amounts of cum drip down your spine making you whine and shiver. Clyde can't take his eyes off the way his partner paints your backside. It makes a trail of drool slip down his chin.

The poor man can't do it anymore, he can't stop his eyes from rolling up to the back of his head. Not when your moans vibrate up him and your throat tightens from choking on him. He needs this release.

"I'm gonna cum baby. Please, let me cum. Let me cum in your mouth." Clyde all but cries in between panting. His begging dissolves into your name and the word please over and over again.

His flickering eyes catch yours again. It's when you give him a little wink and a hum, his cock violently twitches and cum spills from his tip. His cum is sweeter than normal, it makes it easier to swallow.

Slowly he pulls out of your mouth with one final whimper. It isn't until Craig swipes his thumb over his cheek that you realize he had tears streaming down them. Clyde presses his cheek into Craig's hand and lets out a pleased sigh. Once he knows Clyde is okay, Craig stands up and goes to get a towel to help clean your back. He does the same to your face, swiping away the left-over tears.

"Feeling better?" Clyde asks as he helps pull your underwear up. "Nice and relaxed?"

You nod and rest your head against his chest. "You've got good ideas sometimes."

"I've got wrinkles on my brain." He smirks to himself, taking your little praise miles.

Craig comes back after tossing the towel in the dirty laundry with a large blanket. He throws it over both of you before climbing in next to you. He lays his head down on Clyde's and grabs the tv remote.

"Kitchen Nightmare or Hell’s Kitchen?"

"Kitchen Nightmares! I need some petty British accents after my orgasm denial!"

You scrunch up your nose at Clyde’s comment. Almost wanting to pull back. "Smooth brain behavior."

"Smooth brain behavior." Craig chimes in.

The three of you relax into the couch, almost ready for the group nap that comes with the afterglow of love making. That is until inspiration strikes you again. Your eyes light up and you go to wiggle out of their hold. But Craig's arms are faster, they keep you firm against his chest. Clyde's hands come down a moment later, cupping your hips.

"Nope. You're staying right here."

"Guys! No! I just figured out how I'm gonna get that chapter finished! You gotta let me go! I gotta do it!" Your pleads are wasted, like they're not even heard.

"No. You're warm and I'm tired."

"That's not my fault or my problem."

"I'm making it your problem. Sit still."

"You know Tucker bear isn't going to let go. You're fighting a losing battle babe." Craig at least has the decency to let Clyde finish before pinching him. You know Clyde's nickname for him makes him grumpy. His little yelp makes you giggle.

"Fine....at least until you fall asleep."

"Look if you think you can get out of his hold, then be my guest. You earned it at that point." Clyde's smirk returns. He throws his leg over yours and tucks it in between Craig's knees.

"Fuck you." Your eyes narrow up at him. He's not as slick as he thinks he is, trying to cage you in with a sleepy Craig.

"Again? So soon. You're insatiable babe. Let us recover first." Clyde presses a kiss into the top of your head, pulling back before you can headbutt him.

His hand guides your head back down onto his chest and he just chuckles. It doesn't take long before Craig is passed out with his head nuzzled into the curve of your waist. Holding you like a teddy bear against his chest. Clyde's smile grows when he sees you trying to fight off sleep. But it eventually takes you and you lose the battle. He turns the tv down just a bit, deciding to join the both of you.

That chapter can wait another day.

[moonydoodlez]

You like who

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary: Eddie only wanted to know who your celebrity crush was, he wasn't expecting your answer.

Warnings: drug use (weed)

Word count: 256

“I’m not telling you” You giggled taking another hint of the blunt Eddie had skillfully rolled. 

“How embarrassing is your celebrity crush that you won't even tell me” He laughed taking the blunt back. His fingertips grazing yours as he took it in between his nimble fingers.

Eddie wanted his dreams of being with you to burst right now. He needed to know that you would never feel the same way. He hoped you would say Tom Cruise or George Clooney. He needed it to be someone the complete opposite of him.

“Eddie” You whispered, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear the worst you uttered.

“Hmm” He looked up, smirking as your face heated up at his gaze.

“No” You began. “Eddie Van Halen” You took another hit of the blunt trying to distract yourself from his gaping face. 

“I'm sorry.. What” He laughed. “Eddie Van Halen”.

He locked eyes with you again. He held eye contact with you all the time, despite his awkwardness when you did. However this time it felt different. There was this tension that wasn’t usually there. 

The feeling of want flourished through as you scooted closer. “I also.. like you” You whispered. An overwhelming feeling of confidence flooding your body. 

Eddie finally closed the gap between you two. The water that had been simmering between you two had finally boiled and spilled over. The night had turned from soft giggles and the background noise of a sci-fi movie, to the soft lingering touches, the smell of weed, and lust surrounding you.

Masterlist Eddie Masterlist

[thegreatpapaya666]

i don't know what to put here

hi. i'm on tumblr now. thought i'd share some stuff about me here.

i'm lesbian angled aroace, but more specifically i'm cupioromantic and sex-neutral asexual. using microlabels scares me tho, so i just say im aroace. im in a qpr with my beautiful gf @cheeseindeed! i use she/her pronouns. i have clinically diagnosed anxiety. i have clinically diagnosed depression. i have clinically diagnosed adjustment disorder. i am self-diagnosed with autism, so take that as you will. I'm an intp and 4w3.

i like hazbin hotel. i like helluva boss. i like undertale. i like harry potter. i like theater. i like poetry. i like music. i like indie rock. i like show tunes. i like fanfiction. i like pink.

i'm pretty neutral on the whole proship stuff. i personally don't really consume that kind of content, but i'm not gonna diss somebody who does.

i am a shipper of alastor x vox, valentino x vox, and sometimes lucifer x alastor in the hazbin fandom. as for undertale au's, i ship ink x error, blue x outer, dream x killer, dust x horror, sci x fell, dance x lust, reaper x geno, nightmare x fresh (or aroace nightmare and fresh, i like that too), classic x grillby, and stretch x edge. and in the hp universe, I ship harry x draco, dean x seamus, neville x luna, hermione x ron, and prolly a bunch of other people im forgetting.

i'm falling out of my undertale hyperfixation, but the hazbin hotel one is still going strong. especially the fem vox obsession my friends know and *don't* love. at least i can still accurately recite the backstories of every popular au sans like that's some sort of achievement and not a symptom of a mental disorder.

edit: yippee no longer a minor enjoy my adultness besties

tags:

#papaya rambles - Posts where I talk #papaya draws - Drawings I've made #papaya sings - Songs I've written or clips of something I've recorded #papaya reads - Fanfiction I'm posting about or recommending #papaya writes - Poetry, fanfiction, or songs I've written #papaya answers - My asks #papaya polls - Polls made by me or another blog #papaya plays piano - Audio recordings of my playing piano #papaya's reblogs - Stuff I've reblogged #papaya's faves - Stuff I've liked #papaya's saves - Stuff I like to look back on sometimes #papaya likes vox - Any post featuring only Vox #consider yourself tagged - Tag game #hazbin hotel #undertale #radiostatic #staticmoth

more about me if you're interested: link

have a great day!!

<3

[emma-is-swaggy-and-epic]

Expanding on my MLP next gen AU "shipping is magic" except i let too many ideas marinate in my head at once and now my wrist hurts from drawing so much :)

BASES USED:

X / X / X / X / X / X / X / X / X / X / X / X / X / X / X / X

I would say "ships and lore under the cut" but tumblr ALWAYS likes to fuck up my post layout whenever i post SPECIFICALLY MLP base art for some reason soooo.......idk

As some of you may know: i included fluttershy x tree hugger into my next gen but recently i've decided that in this AU: fluttershy is actually now in a polycule with tree hugger and quarter hearts (that one background pony that looks like link from the legend of zelda) because i saw it be included in one of dragonairlover (or SodaSurfer97, depending on where you follow it)'s old youtube videos back when it did next gen requests for people as part of someone's next gen and i really liked that idea so i included the ship in mine, the mostly-yellow pony with the triforce necklace is named canary crescent (he/him) and he's the son of all three (biologically, i mean) while the blue-haired pony next to him is named navi (she/her) and she's just flutter and quarter's kid. Obviously, navi is based on navi the fairy from the actual zelda games though i wanna say that she's got some inspiration from the blue fairy from pinocchio as well

The next five are gonna take a while to explain....so y'know how i had two lunacord kids already? Well....i decided to expand it into 7 and base them all on the 7 deadly sins because i thought it'd be cool (the ones i already made represent pride and sloth now), the pink one represents lust and is named "after dark" (she/her), the red one represents wrath and is named "wild side" (which TOTALLY isn't because i had the beastars opening theme which coincidentally is also titled "wild side" stuck in my head while drawing, what are you even TALKING about!??!?....anyway, she/her) The purple one represents greed and is named "hypebeast bling" (god, remember when hypebeasts were a thing? He/him) the brown one represents gluttony and is named "midnight snack" (they/he) and lastly the blue one represents envy and is named cendrillon (who TOTALLY isn't named after the vocaloid song AT ALLLL!!!!!! She/her) cendrillon wants to be like her older siblings, thus why she's envy

These next ones: well....idk how many people know of this nowadays, but when the episode "baby cakes" first came out, people theorized that rarity ALSO had a baby in that episode alongside mrs cake because in the opening scene: she was seen looking at a baby with a VERY similar color palette to her. I actually really like that theory so i decided to incorporate that into my next gen, with rarity having a kid with stony pony before eventually getting with braeburn and having rosemary and having to give the kid up for adoption because she couldn't take care of her (and also because stony's a fucking deadbeat lmao) ......so yeah, i named her heloise (she/her) and she's very spiritual and cool......probably has an AWESOME crystal collection. The blue pony next to her is named "birthday cake" and she's pound and pumpkin cake's younger sister. Lastly there's prince corium, chrysalis and tirek's 14-year-old son. I imagine that he's not really evil in the same way his parents are, but he's moreso an edgy fuck who thinks saying slurs and making fun of furries is peak comedy....also he has some SERIOUS beef with pastel dream (my flashlight kid from another post)

Moving onto equestria girls, i didn't want it to JUST be the next gen from the pony universe but just in the EG universe so i decided to be a little creative. So for EG's mane 5 we have rarity and applejack's identical twin daughters praline punch (who's a graphiti artist and is into amekaji) and frou-frou (who's super ditzy and into hime gyaru), fluttershy and bulk biceps' daughter sunny sunflower, sci-twi and sunset shimmer's daughter pasadena (who has a crush on sunny and TOTALLY isn't named after pasadena from crash bandicoot I SWEAR!!!!) And flash sentry and timber spruce's daughter happy camper (who is a trans girl, but is still a lil early into her transition and she's into cryptozoology)

[bejeweldskeleton]

WIP Wednesday arbeitest gerade aktiv an einem Oc der an Stories? Teile etwas mit uns darüber? #sharewhatintheqieks #ffmmff #workinprogress #fanfictionde

Sooo, dann komme ich auch zu dieser Frage :D Nur ein paar Mittwoche zu spät, aber naja. Immerhin etwas :D OCs:

(Semi-)aktiv arbeiten tue ich momentan nur an Law für @quinaelfina Good Luck. Da muss auf jeden Fall noch mehr aufs Papier bzw. ins Dokument gebracht werden, auch wenn die Ecken des Konzepts abgesteckt sind. Lustigerweise verarbeite ich bei ihm auch ein bisschen meine immer noch unerfüllte Lust auf Heiligen shizzle, welches ich ja schon bei der Frage nach Wunsch-MMFFs und dem Grishaverse angedeutet habe haha xD Aber Quina hat da einen winzigen passenden Krümel irgendwo om Prolog oder im Word-Dokument fallen lassen und ich habe mich draufgestürzt haha

Stories:

Ich habe so einige Storyideen parat, aber bin mir nicht bei allen sicher, ob das MMFF-Format wirklich die beste Wahl ist lol Allerdings schwanke ich wirklich bei allen zwischen MMFF oder nicht, weshalb ich sie hier einfach aufzählen werde. Es sind alles tatsächlich auch Ideen, die im Prosabereich angesiedelt sind. Idk über die Jahre habe ich mehr und mehr das Gefühl bekommen, dass viele Storyideen, die mir so kommen, gar nicht mehr so stark an ein Fandom gebunden sind oder es sich besser in einer eigenen Welt machen würde, die ich nach meinen eigenen Vorstellungen und narrativen Bedürfnissen gestalten kann. Klar, mehr Arbeit, weil man wirklich alles aus dem Nichts stampfen muss, aber worth it xD

Stage 97:

Los Angeles, 1970er. Eine ehemals legendäre Filmproduktionsgesellschaft, die einst die größten Stars des goldenen Zeitalters Hollywoods hervorgebracht hat, steht seit der Übernahme durch den inkompetenten Socialite-Sohn des alten CEOs kurz vorm Ruin. Abergläubische Leute munkeln, das Studio sei verflucht. Maxine St. John, frisch aus der x-ten Rehab und ehemalige Kinderschauspielerin außer Rand und Band, versucht wieder in Hollywood Fuß zu fassen, diesmal jedoch behind the scenes. Als PA am Ende der Hierarchiekette fängt sie bei [insert name of company] an und entdeckt bald, dass nicht alles mit rechten Dingen zugeht. Spooky stuff passiert. Maxine und eine Handvoll scrappy Filmcrewmitglieder machen sich auf die Suche nach der Wahrheit hinter dem, was das Stage 97 heimsucht :D Macht sich wohl am besten als MMFF und es würde auch mit ein paar vorgegebenen Rollen aufgezogen werden. Aber diese haben eher einen narrativ-funktionalen Hintergrund und werden weniger auf die Persönlichkeit der OCs bezogen sein, also z.B. eher "Hausmeister*in des Filmstudios" statt "Grimdark dude mit dunkler Vergangenheit". Aber ja, historischer Horror mit Hollywood-Glamour. Und gore lol.

Magical Heist (Arbeitstitel)

Las Vegas, irgendwann in der Zukunft. Kennt noch wer The Azkaban Job lol? Magischer Heist in der HP-Welt. Das ist die Neuauflage der Geschichte, aber ohne die HP-Welt, mit einem sinnvolleren Ort und Ziel zum fancy Ausrauben sowie viel weniger vorgegebenen Charakteren. Geblieben sind tatsächlich nur die Winter-Geschwister, da Adams Verhaftung bisher immer noch der Ausgangspunkt und Joans Antrieb dafür sein soll, ja zum Heist zu sagen. Allerdings spielt es jetzt in einer eigenen Welt, die erst vor kurzem Magie entdeckt hat, was natürlich bestehende gesellschaftliche Strukturen neu definiert sowie was es heißt, Macht zu haben. Aber das alles ist bloß der Hintergrund, vor dem fun crime passiert lol ... oder doch nicht? dam dam dam :D

Horizontal Storms/Stormcrawlers

USA als Ganzes, alternative Historie. Das ehrgeizigste und umfassendste Projekt von allen? Damit aber leider auch ein Projekt, das noch viele Lücken hat und nicht ganz weiß, wohin mit sich bzgl. Plot. Der Kern bildet jedoch ein Sci-Fi/Eco-Fantasy/Magical-Realism/Abenteuer Mischmasch?  Irgendwann im späten 20. Jahrhundert tauchen zuerst in den USA, später auch anderswo auf der Welt, Naturphänomene auf, die die Leute ohne bessere Alternative als “Stürme” bezeichnen. Riesig groß, tornado- oder mahlstromartig bilden sie Tunnel, das alles verschlingt, was hineingerät und nicht mehr herausgibt, auch nachdem die Stürme zerbersten. Als ob das Innere der Stürme ein Portal zu einer anderen Dimension wäre, auch wenn die Ein- und Ausgänge eindeutig und regelmäßig in unserer Welt entstehen. Und was macht man angesichts eines grundgefährlichen Naturphänomens, das keiner erklären kann? Natürlich. Man entwickelt einen Extremsport im Untergrund drumherum und schlachtet das über illegale Übertragungskanäle aus lol. Kennt ihr Stormchasing? Das gepaart mit Rallye-Rennfahrten, einer Prise Monster Jam Campiness und Mad Max Bravado und tadaa: Stormracing ist geboren xD  Ziemlich einfache Grundidee: mehrere Rennteams treten gegeneinander an, um zu sehen, wer es als erstes durch so einen Sturmtunnel schafft. Neben den gegnerischen Teams muss man natürlich mit den Stürmen selbst kämpfen - herrscht in den Tunneln ja eine extrem menschenfeindliche Atmosphäre. Tornados und Sandstürme, unvorhersehbares Terrain und die Instabilität der Tunnelwände selbst, alles nicht so einfach. Die Teams bestehen jeweils aus zwei Fahrzeugen, ein Renn- und ein taktischer Wagen, in denen sich Personen verschiedener Rollen befinden, die es alle aus den Tunneln beschaffen müssen. Die Teams haben Stage Names, die meisten tragen Kostüme und Masken, es ist ne große Selbstdarstellung zusammen mit dem Nervenkitzel der immanenten Gefahr.  Und das alles ist nur der Hintergrund für die eigentliche Handlung lol (Und ja ja, auf meinem ff.de-Profil steht noch was zu mysteriösen Sponsoren, Expedition ins Ungewisse und jemand hat Amnesie - aber das gehört alles zu den o.g. Plotbaustellen, also muss es euch noch nicht interessieren xD)