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fxrheisenn · 1 month ago
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Andrus Laansalu talked about making Disco Elysium at EKA (Estonian Academy of Arts)
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"Initially, the church wasn't a focal point. There were certain characters that needed to visit this location, and I asked, "Seriously, what do we have in our church?" The others replied, "Nothing at all. Our church is completely bare—just a wheel, really. It's quite basic."
That's when I decided to unleash my creativity in the design. For example, they chose to install a glass structure at the top of the church to create a reflective surface. It was like placing an optical clock up there. Therefore, one of the most crucial aspects of designing the church was ensuring the lighting was just right to create the desired atmosphere."
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"Let me show you an example of Baroque architecture, which is rich in detail. We're also designing the interior of the church based on large cathedrals. However, the foundation you use might not yield the expected results, because the church itself doesn't require such intricate details. Sometimes, it's about simplifying the design."
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"I used Articy for the initial scriptwriting of Disco Elysium. The image only represents a tiny fraction of the text and choice variables involved. This system was also the reason I eventually abandoned the project after a year of outlining the script and shifted my focus to becoming a sound designer. My mind struggled to keep up with the dynamic graphic rules, but fortunately, a more talented writer took over afterward."
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"In terms of sound design, it's essential to develop different layers to bring out the charm of the church as a cohesive space. Although this represents only a small portion of the overall design, each layer actually requires a significant amount of time to compose the whole....... Whenever there's a shift or a change due to the dialogue itself, you need to adjust the background sounds. Each time you modify the details in the dialogue, I have to refine the background audio, ensuring that these elements build upon each other like an intricate layer of work."
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"It's funny how many scenes involve characters getting smacked in the face. My job was to recreate those, so I locked myself in the bathroom with a recorder and hit my forehead until it turned red.
As a sound designer, I really dig those unsettling, drill-like sounds. So, I mixed in creepy lectures, metal scraping, moans, and cries of pain—because I just love that stuff! (laughs)
Players will be moving through all kinds of areas, so it's super important to make the sound transitions feel natural, trying to create a more immersive vibe in certain spaces.
With all the scenes featuring big cranes, you can hear them from far away, and I wanted to capture that eerie ringing in your ears. That's going to be a thing throughout most of the game. I've found ways to really mess with players while they're playing!"
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"I've come across a lot of old objects (like phones and radios) that I needed to perfectly replicate the sounds. I started to become a bit of a hoarder, buying up different models of old phones whenever I found one to add to my collection. The sound effects I can simulate from them are really impressive."
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"Some of the devices don't actually exist in real life—just a mix of architecture and tech. When I need to create sound effects, I first look for something similar that exists in our world, then I try to simulate what the sound and appearance of that thing might have been like a century ago.
Towards the end of the game, there's a character carrying a fuel canister. We needed the sound of the canister, so we dug one up from our garage—it had been sitting there since it was five! I realized this would make the sound perfect. So, it had been there for 50 years, and after 40 years, it finally found its purpose.
In some places, I needed unique sound waves, and recreating them was a real headache until one day I happened to walk by a swimming pool and stumbled upon an old wartime torpedo. You can rotate the torpedo's probe, and it slowly rises up, like a proud zombie head. The sounds it made were exactly what I needed!"
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🙋How did you manage to get funding?
"Well, since we're in Estonia, you just need to know a wealthy person. You don't need five people—just two who can network, hang out together, and convince them to keep investing! (laughs) Back then, we constantly ran out of money and would tell them, 'Oops, looks like we spent it all! Can you invest a bit more?' That's how we made it through!"
🙋How did you all come together to make the game?
"Luck. It usually doesn't happen this way, and that's the key difference. It has to be. If not, you couldn't create a game of this scale - well, I mean in terms of budget. But creatively, Estonia definitely has writers and artists who can pull it off. With such a small population, there are a lot of quirky folks who are good friends. We were really lucky, though - lots of fortunate circumstances came together. It brought the right people together, allowing those talented fools to collaborate with us. They had experience but hadn't tackled projects of this magnitude before. So yeah, luck is pretty important!"
Lecture experience shared by 白兔YIYANG SUN on 小红书, reposted & translated by me with her permission.
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the-californicationist · 9 months ago
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They Help You Practice
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Task Force 141 asks you to be the bait for a secret assignment. So, they make you audition for the role. You end up getting gangbanged by the whole team and loving it!
TW: gangbang, vaginal sex, anal sex, oral sex, gay sex, degradation, explicitly consensual, spit? please check AO3 link at bottom for full tag list
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You let yourself into his office, shutting the door behind you, and stood before him at a sharp parade rest, waiting to be informed about your fate. 
“Sergeant, thank you for coming. There is no need for formalities. This is just a chat.”
You moved to a more relaxed rest and nodded. 
Price continued,
“This is going to be quite the ask. Would you be willing to perform duties which are…outside of your current scope?”
“Yes, sir,” you responded just as you should have, as you were trained to, but Price was hoping you would understand exactly what you would be getting yourself into. 
“I need you to go undercover to a Konni restaurant cover in Minsk…as bait. Am I making myself clear?”
A pause. But, to your credit, you didn’t flinch. You did raise an eyebrow and ask a clarifying query,
“What kind of bait, sir?”
“Our next target, Dimitri Sokolov, will be at the Black Pearl bar in Minsk tomorrow, and we won’t get a better chance to lure him away from his bodyguards. He almost never makes public appearances, so he must be making an exception. Sokolov has,” he paused for a moment, trying to find the words, making general, suggestive motions over his own chest, “particular tastes in his women. You just so happen to have the right profile for the job. Again, this is not an order, Sergeant. I need to know if you’re willing to accept.”
“Yes, sir,” you tried to appear fully in control. You knew your breasts were large, but you had never been asked to use them as a weapon. There was a first time for everything, you supposed. You would do anything to help the team.
The captain loved your composure. He knew you would be perfect for the job. 
“Good. Let's brief the team.”
Price walked with you down to the meeting room at the end of the hall and found Soap, Ghost, and Gaz sitting in the desk chairs every way except the way they were designed, lounging over the furniture like big cats, melting into the various surfaces they encountered. They fixed themselves when the captain walked in. 
“Gentlemen,” Price opened, “this is our bait. Her code name is Rabbit. Rabbit, this is Soap, Ghost, and Gaz.”
You nodded politely and resumed a semi-formal rest position. 
The men had noticed you around the base but hadn’t been formally introduced. You were a desk rider, but still, you were hard to miss. The baggy military clothing had almost managed to conceal a bounty of soft curves, but your lush body persisted beneath it, and the outlines of your feminine form made heinous suggestions in the fabric. Unfortunately for them, you didn’t hang around the gym or the common area enough for them to have generated a fully accurate image of your enticing body, but they were certain it was delicious. They watched you like peckish wolves. Waiting hungrily, shifting in their seats in anticipation. For what, you weren’t sure.
“Rabbit is going undercover for us to take down Sokolov, Vladimir Makarov’s new shipping controller. He has a particular penchant for,” Price paused just long enough for anyone to understand his true meaning, “certain types of women. Rabbit fits the mold, so all she needs is the gear and the training.”
Price cut open three large cardboard boxes to reveal slinky dresses and a number of questionable garments. 
“I’ll need to try them on,” you offered, “Do you want me to get changed, Captain?”
“Sounds good. Come back in when you’re all set,” he smiled, enjoying the view as you left the room. 
Ghost crossed his arms, clearly with quite a mouthful to share and but refusing to. Gaz stared down at the knife he was playing with, bashful. But Soap would not be cowed, and as soon as you left, he said,
“Feeding her to the sharks like bait, Captain? I dinnae ken any of us was so expendable.”
“Soap,” Price warned, “the sergeant is more than capable of handling -”
“I wasnae askin’ about the lassie’s capabilities. Send her in to slit his throat with a knife in her hand, for all I care. But to send her in unguarded, unarmed? No. It’s not right,” Soap crossed his arms. 
“He’s got a point, Captain. Why take the risk of losing an operative?” Ghost spoke coldly. 
Price furrowed his brow at their short-sightedness,
“And do what, exactly? Have the Russians scurry back underground at the first hint of an assassination attempt? We’ve failed that mission three times, boys. I’ll not have this go south again.”
“I’m sure she is capable, Captain. But, is Rabbit committed to this plan?” Gaz asked. 
“Sure,” Price tried to sound reassuring, “we spoke in my office. She agreed to come down here. Besides, she’ll have you three as backup. You won’t let anything happen to her.”
Gaz did not seem convinced. All three soldiers wore a scowl on their faces, and even though Ghost’s was obscured by his mask, his body language communicated his displeasure. Price carefully ashed his cigar to renew the glowing tip, taking a long drag while they waited for you to return. 
You were back without too much of a delay, but when you walked in, your colleagues were visibly stunned. They didn’t recognize you at first. A short black dress had replaced your camouflage fatigues, showing off miles and miles of smooth, shining skin. Your thick thighs stretched the silky fabric, and your ass threatened to escape from the edge of the dress with every step you took. Your new heels clacked sharply against the cold concrete, making your legs flex and tense, showing off your well-formed musculature. You did not miss squat day very often, apparently.
But, the assets you were trying to use for this particular mission were the real stars of the show. Your heavy breasts battled against the low dip of the dress, providing a deep display of cleavage, hinting at pink perky nipples hidden just below the line of the black silk. Your tits jiggled as you struck the floor with each careful step, making the room full of men breathe a little heavier at the sight. 
Soap’s big mouth betrayed them all,
“Christ in Heaven. There you are, bonnie.”
Ghost backhanded him hard on the shoulder. Price glowered.
You had put on a little more makeup than might be socially acceptable in an office setting, making the suggestive outfit complete. Finally, as you stood at the head of the meeting table, you took out your task force regulation braid and pulled your fingers through your hair, breaking up your long waves as they spilled down your neck and back. 
You smiled,
“Well, do I look the part?”
Price coughed, inhaling too much smoke on accident. Gaz hadn’t moved since you walked in the room. He just stood there, dumbfounded, arms held at an odd angle as if frozen in time. Ghost cleared his throat to save them,
“Yes, Rabbit. You clean up very nicely, don’t you?”
“Well,” you sighed, “this is sort of the raunchiest outfit I found in the box. I was going to go with something a bit more casual, but I thought I’d better be noticeable if we’re going to nail this asshole.”
Gaz finally came out of his locked state, aghast,
“Noticeable? Sweetheart, this is more than noticeable. Goddamn.”
“You think it’s too much? I don’t really know what would get his attention,” you shrugged, looking shy as you confessed, “I don’t get asked out very often.”
“You could go out with me, lassie,” Soap edged his way closer to her, slinking around the table, “We’d have a hell of a time, so we would.”
“Don’t listen to Johnny,” Ghost stood in front of him a bit, snaking an arm around your cinched waist, “He thinks takin’ his birds to the dog races is a good date idea.”
“Well, isn’t it?” Soap protested.
Gaz grabbed your hand tenderly, examining your fingers like they were a precious work of art,
“Maybe you could come with me to Berlin next weekend, babes. There’s a killer music festival going on, and we could have a really good time. How does that sound?”
“Boys,” Price interrupted, “I’m sure she has plenty of work to finish here; can’t just be galavanting off with you muppets. In fact, why don’t you stop by my office after this mission, bunny rabbit, and we can work on your projected shipment dates together? You know, I used to be a logistics man, myself.”
Ghost rolled his eyes at the Captain,
“Please, logistics? You drove a truck back and forth on base delivering food to the canteen twenty years ago. I’ve read your file.”
The men all started talking over each other, forgetting your presence in favor of coming out on top of the dog pile. You smiled to yourself, eager to push more of their buttons. 
Slipping one skinny strap down your shoulder, you spoke through the din,
“You know, this dress can be strapless. Do you think Sokolov wants it up…” you locked eyes with Captain Price, seeing his throat swallow hard as he watched you in the silence you had created, “or down?”
The other soldiers were stunned, unable to look away as you slipped both straps off of your shoulders and tucked them into your dress. One strap was still partially visible, and Ghost slowly moved one gloved finger up your arm, tracing your skin lightly, and finished tucking it in for you. He lingered, caressing the side of your breast as he removed it. 
“You gonna be able to seduce this Russian bastard, Sergeant? Or, do you need some practice?” Price asked with a low, threatening tone. 
The whole room held its breath waiting for your answer. The four men towered over your short frame, casting shadows over you like black spells, hoping you would relinquish your control over them. All of their eyes watched as you slowly, achingly lifted a hand and traced it up Gaz’s canvas pant leg, stopping when you discovered the heavy head of his cock, hardening down toward his knee. With the back of your hand, you pet it like a skittish animal, reveling in its smoothness and warmth. Your eyes found his as they fluttered, blood rushing through his body in a panic,
“I think I could use some practice, Captain.”
You felt Gaz’s rod leap at your answer. He bent down to kiss your mouth, slanting his lips fiercely against you. 
Soap came up behind you, gripping your ass through the silk of your dress roughly,
“We’ll help you, lass. We’ll help you practice, won’t we, boys? Jesus, you smell so good,” he buried his face in your neck and sucked against your skin. 
Ghost found your other hand and held it tightly, using it to steady you from Soap and Gaz’s assault. Price moved Gaz out of the way, earning himself a glare, and peeled the dress off of you in one fell swoop, revealing the expanse of uncovered skin underneath. 
“Holy shite,” the captain breathed, whispering his lament, “Sergeant, where are your knickers?”
“I guess I forgot them, Captain,” you blushed, batting your eyes up at him, doing actual damage to his psyche.  
He didn’t have much time to savor the moment though because Ghost was shoving him out of the way to pick you up by the thighs to lay you on the table. The giant knelt between your legs, pulling you by the knees until your ass was hanging off of the low wooden planks. He lifted his mask just enough for you to see him lick his lips over sharp, white teeth before feasting on your wet folds, letting the cloth of the balaclava hide most of his efforts. 
Ghost created a soothing, yet electrically wet warmth in your core which made you keen loudly, only to be muffled by Price’s smoky kiss. You could taste the burned tobacco on his tongue and your skin was scraped by his thick mustache. 
Gaz’s voice got your attention. He had freed his cock from his pants and started to stroke it, standing by your side and playing with your breasts with his free hand as Price savaged your mouth. He tugged on your nipple and told you,
“You know, Rabbit, you’re going to have to really put yourself out there tomorrow. Show him these gorgeous tits of yours. Make him think you’re hungry for his cock,” Gaz rubbed his head, hard and hungry for you, “Can you do that? Let us see how good you can be, princess. We need you to ace this mission”
You felt Ghost dip his hard cock between your pussy lips, distracting you from Price’s tongue in your mouth. You broke the kiss and looked up at Ghost, dazed, into his masked face,
“I promise, sir. I’ll be good,” you looked around at all four of the men, reaching out to grab Soap’s cock that he was stroking for you, “Will you show me how?”
You didn’t give Soap time to answer. The Scot gasped as you devoured him, sucking him down into your throat, making yourself gag as he fucked your throat in and out in long thrusts. He tangled his fingers in your hair. Ghost matched his rhythm below you, pounding his cock into your wet hole. You thought you could feel something on his dick. Was he pierced? You could see your slick gleam on his lips and chin where his mask was still askew. 
“Yeah,” Ghost smiled haughtily, “you like those piercings, don’tcha baby?”
You didn’t have a chance to respond. Price pulled your head away from Soap’s dick, kissing your mouth lewdly again before giving you an order,
“Open your mouth wide for me, love.”
You obeyed. Then, he spit onto your tongue, warm and bubbling, before shoving your face down onto his own fat rod. It made your lips burn with its cruel girth, even though it felt relatively soft, and you thought fleetingly that there was no way your poor little cunt was going to be able to take him, Ghost was big enough to be filling, but the captain was carrying around a true weapon. 
He pulled your head off of him roughly, watching as the strings of drool connected your tongue to his cockhead, growling in short, lustful breaths. 
“Alright, boys. Make sure she’s good and ready for me. You know the drill,” Price barked, and then he was gone. 
The drill? You looked for him, confused, and only found Gaz, who was now slapping his long dick on your cheek, knocking for entrance. He let you take his head into your mouth, having a much easier time than you did with your captain. You bobbed your head up and down dutifully, not realizing just how long his cock was until he tried to force it into your throat. He held you down for a moment, moaning shamelessly, before releasing you to let you breathe. 
“You alright, babes?” He laughed.
You nodded, moaning. Ghost took himself out of your wetness and pulled you off of the table. Soap hopped up to lay where you were, and you moved to ride him, making sure to get right to the edge with him to let Ghost back in. You’d never taken two men at once, much less four, but there was a first time for anything, and you were a quick learner. 
Spearing yourself onto Soap felt like someone had created a warm, custom, living dildo just for you. He was a perfect fit, and you both cried out in pleasure from the sensation. Ghost slapped your ass, hard, and you screamed, clenching around Soap’s cock. Soap moaned darkly. 
“Keep suckin’ that big cock, baby. Need to teach you how to multitask,” Ghost threatened as he bent to eat your asshole, wiggling his tongue into the tight rim to gain entrance.
He started to fuck you with it, his long wet muscle moving in and out as Soap thrust himself up into you, hitting your g-spot every single time like magic. You took Gaz back into your mouth and tried your best to take him deeper into your throat. Every time you did, you would gag, and your muscles would involuntarily clench, and the whole room would moan. You started to come, feeling yourself flood around Soap, whose mouth had latched onto one of your nipples, suckling like he was trying to feed from you. 
You could see Price out of the corner of your eye. He had lit another cigar and was smoking it, stroking himself, still not at his full capacity. You were scared of him. He looked like some sort of demon, breathing fire, as big around as your forearm. He wasn’t as long as Gaz, nor as delightfully curved as Soap, but he made your legs shake without even touching you. When he did touch you, rising from his chair when he wanted to fondle you, pinching a nipple, pulling your hair, forcing your head down on Gaz, it lit you up like you were kerosene and he was the match. 
Suddenly, Ghost’s tongue was gone, only to be replaced by his heavy head. He was going to fuck your ass, and there was nothing you could say to stop him. You’d only done anal once or twice before, and you knew it might hurt. He went so slowly that you could feel each and every piercing as he popped them into you, one by one. Then, as he pulled back out, you felt them pop as each one went through you again, raking himself in and out gently, as careful with you as he could be. When you were more pliant, he began to throw his weight into each thrust, and Soap started to groan below you from the sensation. 
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare, Johnny boy,” Price threatened, his voice full of stern warning. 
You weren’t sure what he was warning him about until Soap pulled his cock out of you and came all over your stomach, Ghost’s thrusts making the fluid smear between you two, rubbing your bodies together. Ghost pulled out next, and you felt his hot, thick ropes spray onto your ass cheeks, melting down your thighs. 
Gaz abandoned your mouth and took over for Soap, feeding himself inch by inch until he found your end, leaving some of his cock out in the cold. He fucked you faster than the others, not caring to move out of the way as Soap rolled off of the table, whining like a whore the whole time. 
Captain Price came around to your face, holding your chin in his hand, looking down at you without pity,
“Garrick’s got a long cock, don’t he, love? You’re being so good for my men, such a good girl. Sweet little slut, hm? You’re going to do so well on this mission. Those areholes won’t know what hit ‘em.”
He grabbed your hair fiercely, hurting your scalp, forcing you to turn and look back at Gaz. Price took a long puff from his cigar, blowing it past your face, 
“Baby, he could fuck you for a hundred years. He’s not gonna come until you scream his name.”
You heard Gaz moan louder at Price’s suggestion, so you did. You screamed for him over and over, not caring who might have heard you, begging for him to come in you. 
“He’s not allowed to come in you, love,” Price kissed your open panting mouth, “But, don’t worry. It’s about to be my turn, and you’ll be feeling my fuckin’ come drip out of your cunt all night long.”
Price’s voice made your blood run cold with fear. He wasn’t making threats. Those were clearly promises. Predictions of the future. His cock was tucked back into the band of his pants, but it lay in wait there like a serpent, eager to strike.
Your heart pounded in your chest as Gaz pulled his long shaft all the way out of you, his come shooting onto your lips and ass, feeling him use his hand to rub it into your skin, making you sticky. Your captain gave him a warning look, and you realized they had done this sort of thing before. Perhaps many times before. As you watched Soap and Ghost comfort each other, breathing close together, touching themselves, you wondered if they ever fucked each other as well. Picturing the four of them rutting into each other made you hungry, deep in your belly, starving to witness such an act. 
Finally, it was your captain’s turn. The look in his eyes made you tremble. You knew he wouldn’t be cruel, not on purpose anyway. He wasn’t a heartless man, but he wasn’t one to hold himself back from what he wanted either. You knew that he would fuck you the way he wanted to, as hard as he wanted to, no matter how much complaining you might do about how his cock would stretch you out - even to the point of pain. 
“On your back, love. Legs up. Spread that pussy open for me,” he commanded. 
You did as he told you, opening yourself up shamelessly, letting your folds spread wide. 
He walked around the table to gaze upon your form, staring at your pink flesh like it was a hot meal, and he was starving. He moaned, rubbing his hand across your sticky mons, 
“Mm, that’s my pretty little Rabbit. Now…” he paused for effect, sinking three fingers into your hole roughly but ever so slowly, twisting his arm as he did, corkscrewing his knuckles into you, “...I want you to understand that there’s a reason I’m last in line, love.”
You cried out from the pressure of his huge hand. It felt like you were going to tear. Then, after a few hard thrusts, he released you. The emptiness you felt was heartbreaking. You looked for him, pleading with your eyes for him to return to you. He pulled his cock free from his waistband, unable to connect his finger to his thumb as he wrapped around it. You whined involuntarily, something animal in you recognizing its fate. 
“Shh, baby, I know,” he drug out his voice, “I know…”
He positioned the heavy shaft on top of your body, measuring himself from base to tip, reaching your navel. As he slapped it against you, it made a loud thudding noise, slamming into your muscles like a fist. Price was so heavy. You’d never even imagined a man could feel like he was pure, warm, thick marble. Your pussy seemed to understand the panic you were feeling, flooding itself, preparing for the upcoming invasion. 
“I’m so fuckin’ eager for you, love,” he slapped you again, quick taps right to your swollen clit.
Then, he put his head inside of you, squeezing himself in. He left it inside of you and started to pump himself with his hand. Between the vibration from his fist and the fact that it felt like you were sitting on the end of a steel bat, you couldn’t hold back your keening, loud and high-pitched. 
Price began the steady, slow march forward, swelling harder and harder by the moment, making your walls feel like they might break. It seemed as if all the blood in your body was rushing down your belly and up your legs, hurrying to your core. 
Your eye were wild, full of your fear, tears forming at the corners of your eyes,
“I can’t, please! I can’t. It’s too big, fuck…”
Price didn’t stop. He just kept feeding himself in and pulling himself back out, wetting his cock’s skin with your soaking hole. 
“You can, and you will, love,” the captain growled, “Now, shut that pretty mouth and take it.”
Your cheeks were wet and your eyes burned, he was so deep within you that it felt like he was thrusting into your throat. You couldn’t breathe.
Suddenly, Soap grabbed your hand, kissing your palm, using his tongue to lick your skin,
“It’s alright, bonnie. I’m here, lass. Breathe with me, lass.”
He bent down to kiss you, but he didn’t quite connect, letting his lips graze yours featherlight. Soap breathed in and breathed out in steady, measured beats. You felt yourself begin to relax. It had such an immediate effect that you heard Price groan, able to slip himself a bit deeper than he had done. 
It was like a chain reaction, the more relaxed you became, breathing with Soap, feeling him suck and lick your nipples softly, the more Price was able to squeeze himself in. 
Finally, you felt his hair at the base of his cock, thick and curled, and as he sighed, he settled inside of you, impossibly pressing against your whole body, making a clear outline of himself in your lower belly. He rubbed it, almost fondly, and you felt every inch of him throb against your walls, his head bullying your womb.
You cried out again from the strain. Ghost and Gaz joined Soap. Gaz began to suckle from your breast on your left side, fondling himself as he did so, getting hard again. Ghost was at your head on the end of the table, and he bent to kiss you, upside down, his tongue running all the way down your throat, long and slippery against your own. 
He pulled away, petting your cheek as Price began to grind himself into you,
“You alright, Rabbit? You enjoying your captain’s cock, hm?”
“Mm hm,” you whispered, whimpering through your tears.
Ghost smiled, and his straight, white teeth looked menacing as he did, sharp, wolf-like,
“I know you are, babe. You’re doing so well. Look at him. You can see him inside of your cunt.”
He lifted your head by your hair, showing you the grotesque shadow of Price’s heavy rod as it shoved itself into you. You reached your hands down to it, feeling it through your skin. It was so unique. His size wasn’t like anything you’d ever experienced, and your body was sending confused signals of passion, your orgasms coming in shattered, broken waves. Feeling incomplete. Too powerful, and yet drawn out like the last note of a symphony. 
As you touched him from the outside, Price moaned aloud for the first time. It shocked you. You looked up at him, managing to meet his eyes.
“Fuck,” you moaned, “You feel so good inside of me, Captain.”
“Mm, yeah?” He replied, using his hands to press yours down onto his cock, making you gasp, “You like it, baby? I’m gonna make sure you never want anybody else.” 
Price reached down and grabbed you by the throat, scaring away Soap and Gaz. He lifted you up, making his dick fit inside of you that much tighter with the change of angle. Then, he began the true performance. He thrust himself in with fast, punishing strokes, slamming himself into you. You were sure you would bruise, and you felt dizzy, almost like you’d pass out. 
Soap was at your side again, holding your hair away from your face,
“Look at you, lassie. Such a good girl for your captain. Takin’ that cock so damn well. Can’t wait to be back inside you, girl.”
He kissed your cheek, palm massaging his dick which was back to full mast, eager again. 
“Alright, Johnny,” Price grinned, “Since you asked so nicely.”
Without any strain whatsoever, Price lifted you up by your hips and held you in the air as he fucked you, bringing you around the table so that Soap could position himself at your asshole. Ghost’s earlier efforts had made it ready for him, and you could very acutely feel how much he was throbbing to be inside of you, pulsing as he fit against Price. 
“Ungh, fuck, lass,” Soap groaned as he began to thrust into you, pistoning with the captain, “He’s got you so tight for me.”
“Yeah? It feels so good. Mmm…” you whimpered, feeling more full than you’d ever been. 
Johnny was holding your breasts as Price lifted you up, brutalizing your pussy. Every thrust felt like an electric pulse, making you cock-drunk and mindlessly pliant. 
They worked in tandem for what felt like eons, pistoning in and out with each other. Eventually, after he had felt you come, Soap addressed his captain directly,
“Sir, I’m…please, sir, can I?”
“Can you what, soldier?” Price grunted through gritted teeth, testing his sergeant.
“Can I come, sir? Please, Cap…”
“Yeah, Johnny. C’mon, mate. Let her feel it.”
“F-fuck! Fuck…” Soap groaned, pushing himself flush against your asshole, pumping his come into you. 
He caught his breath while he was still in you, kissing the nape of your neck, and then he pulled away slowly. He helped Gaz replace him, holding your ass wide apart so his comrade could position himself inside. And just when you thought your poor pussy would have room to breathe, Gaz’s incredibly long shaft was piercing your hole again. 
You felt him sigh, his breath against your neck. He took over holding you up, and Price praised him,
“That’s it, Garrick. She’s all yours. Take it.”
Gaz reacted to his words in a way that made you rethink their entire dynamic. Then, you remembered how he had come when you said his name. He seemed to get harder and harder the more Price praised him, and you wanted to give him that same validation. 
“Gaz,” you whispered, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder, “It’s so big, baby. It’s like I can feel you in my throat. Oh, Gaz. Gaz!”
“Mm,” Price put his mouth to your neck, groaning, “That’s it, love. Tell him how much you like that long cock.”
“So much, Gaz. It’s so good,” you added. 
Then, Price took his left hand and wrapped it around the back of Gaz’s neck in a moment of surprising intimacy. As Price kissed the front of your throat, Gaz kissed your shoulder and nape. You felt like a peeled fruit being shared between them, a ripped rind, your juicy flesh being split in two; two halves of a ripe orange. 
Gaz lasted longer than Soap had when he fucked your ass, but Price’s attention seemed to spur him on. His movements were slippery, and you could feel the remnants of Soap’s come frothing around your entrance, easing his efforts.
“Captain,” Gaz whined, desperate for more of that approval. 
“C’mon, Kyle. She’s ready for you. Good lad.”
The use of his first name made Gaz thrust up into you with a feverish pace. He cried out as he came, hard, into you. Feeling him fall back out of you made you imagine the tendrils of a giant kraken, seeming to travel forever just to remove himself from your body, slithering out of you with a terrible squelching noise. 
Gaz let Price hold you again, and you turned, expecting Ghost. Price laughed at you, chuckling softly,
“Missing your masked man already?”
You looked at Price, feeling raw and used, waiting for an explanation,
“He’s a little…preoccupied.”
Price laid you back on the table, letting you turn your head to see Ghost, buried in Soap’s asshole up to the hilt, furiously jacking him off, slamming into him a little too roughly for your liking. It was violent, but Soap seemed to be enjoying himself beyond measure. 
Your pussy, though, disagreed with your assessment, clenching around Price’s cock while you watched Simon abuse his friend’s hole. 
“Mm,” the captain moaned, feeling your muscles react, “You like that, love? You wanna be fucked rough like that?”
He didn’t give you a chance to answer. Price wrapped your legs beneath his chest in a full mating press and wrecked you, pounding into your body like a giant fist. You felt your bones shudder beneath his behemoth form. Just when you thought you might puke from how overstimulated you were, you felt him pause. Then, your pussy felt like it was leaking, and it was. Price’s come just kept milking its way out of you, his cock pulsing inside, making your walls throb. 
When he finished, he kissed you on the mouth, almost lovingly, reverently. He started to slide out of you, being extremely careful, and you’d never felt so empty in your entire life. It was as if you’d never be full again. You found yourself whining, whimpering for Price to return. 
“That’s right, pretty girl,” Price smiled, “Never gonna want anybody else, are ya?”
You smiled, shocked and in considerable discomfort. Gaz scooped you up off of the table, cradling you, sitting down with you in his lap in a large chair. He reached down for some water and handed it to you, helping you recover. 
Price was standing with his hands on his hips, panting from his exertion. Ghost and Soap were connected like two hounds, locked together, the Scot cock warming his tall lover, groaning on every exhale. 
“Well, what do you think, lads? Do we have a winner?” Price asked.
“Yeah, we fucking do, Cap,” Gaz pet your head, moving your sweaty hair out of your eyes. 
“Fuck yeah, mate,” Ghost growled, pawing at Johnny again, rabid for him. 
“Hear that, bonnie?” Soap managed to ask, still moaning in little breaths as he was being speared by Ghost, “Got  yourself a new permanent assignment.”
Price walked over to you, grabbing you by the face and kissing you once more,
“You belong to us now, love. Perfect little slut.”
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niqhtlord01 · 9 months ago
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Humans are weird: They sing going to war
( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)
While serving alongside the human forces during the Torus Campaign I learned much of their strange culture.
Their need to stack foods in elaborate combinations which they call a “Sandwich”, their constant need to play “The Game” without ever explaining what it is unless to tell you that you have lost it, and even their obsession with petting anything within arm’s reach with an almost religious like dedication; but the strangest custom I only witnessed during the final stages of the war.
We had just deployed over the world of Obidon III and were launching a joint ground assault with the human forces. Enemy resistance was expected to be heavy and many would not survive the drop, but command believed that if enough forces reached the surface of the planet they could establish a beachhead and allow the rest of the contingent to be brought in.
During the decent to the planet all I could do was keep my eyes closed and hope beyond hope that we would survive. I was so lost in this trance like state that my friend Septem had to physically smack me on the helmet to get my attention and tell me to turn my radio channel to frequency 13.
I was confused at first since that frequency was being used for our human allies but he insisted that I would not believe what they were doing. So I reset my radio in my helmet to frequency and what I heard was something I had never expected on a battlefield.
They were singing.
The frequency was chalk full of voices in such volume that I had to turn down the volume but it seemed like every single human that was part of the attach was joining in the song. My translator unit was trying to keep up but the sheer intensity of the humans singing was causing it to drop in and out, picking up every other word.
I wanted to listen closer to them but the enemy flak began pounding the outside of our dropship. Each detonation sent the ship rattling side to side violently. I had just retightened my straps when a shell burst just beneath us sending a shockwave through the ship so strong it sent several of my comrades flying from their seats into the opposite wall. They hit the wall hard and did not get back up when their bodies collapsed to the ground.
All I could think about was how this was the moment I was going to die. This was the moment my existence in this universe comes to its conclusion and I return to the dust and atoms of the cosmos. And as I tuned myself to this reality all I could hear were the humans still singing over the radio.
They must have been going through the same amount of enemy fire as he was and yet still they somehow were still able to sing as if nothing was wrong with the world. I got so focused on their singing that I forgot about my worries for such a time that I was startled when the dropship landed with a loud thud against the planet’s surface and the boarding ramp lowered.
The following battle was a grueling six hour run and gun with the enemy as we tried to carve out a safe LZ for reinforcements. I got separated from my unit on more than one occasion and wandered into the human designated areas in the confusion.
To my utter surprise the humans were still singing.
Clad in their blue and gold armor, they broadcasted their voices from their helmet speakers as they advanced street by bloody street. One of them took shelter with me for a time as we prepared to rush a fortified courtyard which housed heavy anti air emplacement. I nodded a greeting to the human who replied in kind, yet their voice never ceased in song. I saw them rush around the corner and take several heavy rounds to their chest, but the shells ricocheted off the armor leaving only scratches on the paint.
I watched in disbelief as this wild singing human leaped over the barricade and slapped a detonation charge on the anti-air weapon before leaping back as it exploded the weapon. They stood in the smoldering flames to take a moment to catch their breath when a sniper’s round from down the street struck them in the head and blew out a large portion of their cranium. It was the first time during the entire battle I had seen a human die but I did not have long to contemplate it as the rest of the humans charged past, still singing, in the direction of the snipers shot.
Another hour of combat and the landing site was finally secured and reinforcements were brought in to take our positions. What was left of the initial landing force were sent back to orbit and recover and regroup from their losses. Out of my people’s forces I was one of twenty soldiers to have survived. I imagined the humans had lost equally as many until the pilot remarked that additional shuttles had been dispatched to carry their force back up. It seemed that despite the intensity of the fighting only three of their warriors had fallen in battle; one of them including the warrior I had watched fall.
I was beyond myself.
These reckless warriors had somehow survived one of the most intense battles the campaign had seen and only lost three of their number.
Once back on the ship the first chance I could I sought them out for an explanation. They were quartered in the lower reaches of the ship, isolated from the other contingents onboard.
Outside their area were two guards still in full armor that initially would not let me through until one of them recognized me from the fighting in the city. I was then led inside and found many of the humans feasting and laughing. Two long rows of tables had been setup facing each other; between them were several fires each with a different animal being roasted over them. At the end of the rows stood three large pyres of wood which held three bodies atop each of them.
As I passed through the humans many ceased their laughter and looked at me, their clouded eyes with suspicion. We made it half way through the throngs when a giant of a human stepped forward and blocked our path. They demanded to know why I had been let it in; going even further to say they will throw me out personally if the answer was not good. The guard who had recognized me said I had witnessed the last moments of one of the fallen and would speak of their deeds. There was a long pause as the large human glared at me, his eyes as cold as the crescent moon of my homeworld.
The human finally relented and let out a loud boastful laugh, clapping me on my shoulders and welcoming me to the feast. Those gathered around cheered and similarly welcomed me now as the ceremony proceeded once more. I could barely say anything as I was seemingly pulled into the celebration. I drank, I ate, I laughed, I even boasted of my own achievements during the battle.
At the height of the feast I was called forward to speak of the final moments of the human soldier I watched die. I learned their name had been Moris Yu, and had served in the human contingent since the beginning of the campaign. I spoke of his final moments, of how he charged the enemy alone and had single handedly destroyed their war machine. I spoke of the snipers bullet laying him low to which all the gathered humans spoke as one “To Odin’s hall he flies.”
With that pyres were set on fire and the bodies slowly turned to ash. I imagine it had some significant ritualistic meaning in human culture but it was beyond me.
After the funeral I asked one of the soldiers the question I had come to them with.
“Why do you sing in battle?”
The human took a long huff from a wooden pipe and blew a cloud of smoke before answering.
“Long ago, my people were raiders and conquerors of the sea.” They began, “Our gods watched over us and should we prove worthy we would be sent to them to join them in their halls and fight alongside them for eternity.”
“There was one warband led by a giant of a man called Osmond Frig. He loved song just as much as he loved fighting, so he made his warriors sing during every fight as it made him happy.”
“They agreed to such silliness?” I asked, to which the human grinned.
“They did after he felled the first three men who laughed at him with a single blow from his axe.” They finished before continuing with their story.
“What was truly surprising was not the sight of these warriors singing, but rather the fact that they were rather good at it. It was said they could make the Valkyries themselves shed a single tear with their songs.”
“Eventually one of the gods, Bragi, noticed Osmond’s warband and took a liking to them. Much like the Valkyries he too was moved by their song and decided to reward them with his patronage. He used ancient magic and made it so as long as the warriors sung they would be impervious to harm of all kinds.”
“So the warband grew in fame and glory as they went conquest to conquest, emerging from battles against impossible odds with nay a scratch on them. First across the northern seas, then across the continent of Europe, and then soon the entire world knew of Osmond; which is when they finally drew the attention of the king of the gods, Odin.”
“Odin watched these powerful warriors and wanted them in his hall for the eternal battle, yet despite every challenge they faced they emerged victorious. No matter what enemy Odin placed in their path or scheme he unleashed on them they refused to fall. Odin knew of Bragi’s patronage and tortured the god to reveal his secret and after seven days and seven nights Bragi told Odin of the spell he had cast and how it could not be undone.”
“But that was all Odin needed to secure his warriors.” The human said with a devil’s grin.
“During the midst of the most recent battle Odin took the form of a mighty warrior and stalked the fields for his prey. He waited for each warrior to catch their breath and cease their song before striking and slaying them, one by one. By day’s end only Osmond remained to fight Odin and though he sang long into the night he too eventually gasped for air and was slain.”
“So that is why you sing?” I asked the human. ‘Because you believe your gods will protect you?”
The human chuckled and nodded to the three pyres. “Did you not say that Moris was only slain after he ceased singing?”
I wanted to counter him with some logic, some reason grounded in reality, but I could not. I left that human area with a profound new perspective of myself in the grand scheme of the universe.
The next time I was in a combat drop my comrades laughed when I began singing. I wasn’t sure if it was good or not, but I hoped that in some way the human god would at least find me amusing and let me live another day.
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lightaflaem · 2 months ago
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𝐩𝐨𝐯: 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭.
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pairing: tattoo artist!suna x f!reader
genre: semi-angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, suggestive
word count: 5.1k
content warnings: profanities, suggestive themes, mentions of needles, sticks, poking, sharp objects, blood, mentions of abuse, scars, violence, trauma, addiction
summary: after countless attempts to convince your tattoo artist college friend, suna rintaro, to do your body art, you couldn’t understand why he keeps on rejecting you. not until he told and showed you the real reason why.
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“Is this the chair where your clients sit to get their tattoos done?” you asked, pointing at the leather chair in front of you.
“Yeah, where else do you think I got it done?” Suna answered, not removing his eyes from the patterned tape he’s been wrapping on the grip on the gun.
“So, when are you going to do mine?” you hopped on the leather material, arm resting on the extended side as you clean your antecubital area with your other free hand. It’s obviously not set for your height as you tried making yourself comfortable on the depthness of the chair.
“Very funny, Y/N. Now get off that chair and help me set these up. There's small sized gloves under the cabinet beside that chair, wear those before touching anything.” he ordered, not giving a single fuck about your question. Rolling your eyes, you stood up and started searching for the gloves in the compartment.
“Why won’t you do my tatts?”
“‘Cause you're my friend.”
“Seriously, Rintaro? You have favoritism.”
“Seriously, Y/N. I don’t have favoritism and I don’t do tatts for my friends because I already know them. My brain becomes a mush when it comes to thinking of designs when I already know the person.”
Your jaw dropped at his answer. You don’t buy it. Seriously, what the fuck is he playing with? Irked, you intentionally wore the pair of latex with much more force, making it slap against your wrist hard enough to leave marks. You placed a sterile mat on the stainless surface of the table, aligning the vaseline-coated small cups horizontally and started loading it up with black and red inks.
“You’d make a great apprentice.” he commented as he watched you do the preparations the same way he does it before every session. Each and every step was done with fragility, just like how you retained his routine by watching him do the same thing for the past few years of being with him.
“You know, I’ve always wanted to get a red tattoo,” you spoke as you continued filling the cups. “It’s sexy and I think I’ll look hot in it.”
“But you always look hot, with or without that red ink.” Suna said casually, making your heartbeat accelerate but you didn’t let it get into you because he probably said it to his clients most of the time.
“I know right. That’s why when my college friend became a tattoo artist, the force of getting it done doubled up. Specifically by him.” you know that you didn’t fail to emphasize how badly you wanted to get your body art done by him but maybe for him, he saw it as nothing but a mere compliment for his works.
Who would have thought that the quiet kid from one of your elective classes way back in college a few years ago who subsequently also became your close friend because of a mutual friend, the Miya twins, who were your classmates since you’re in elementary school, will become a famous tattoo artist specializing in line arts, minimalism, and patchworks.
Suna also probably never saw that his future will be like this. From just surviving everyday to a big time personality of inks and needles. With the freedom and peace he gained from following his calling, he also took a leap of faith to change his physical appearance from cropping his hair shorter, both arms, chest, and neck full of patchwork of random tattoos, and his signature snake bites that captivated the hearts of his crowd.
He never liked fame, though. He always hides whenever he’s got the chance to escape from paparazzi and respectfully declines the clients he doesn't want to work with and cannot work with. He's hard to get. That makes him more fascinating in the eyes of others. It’s like he’s hidden behind those inks and it will take thousands of needles to uncover. He’s surely one of a kind.
His skill in generating different designs specifically for each client is no joke. A lot of local and international artists and internet personalities are hitting up his instagram direct messages, asking for his details of booking. You vividly remember one of his interviews wherein he was asked if he ever recycled a design for different clients and what makes him unique from other tattoo artists. He answered“Each client has their own blueprint depending on their cup of tea. That’s what makes me unique from other artists. I created my own scheme and let it align on my client’s skin like it’s running out of breath and ink’s the only thing it needed to satisfy its hunger.”
He’s distinct. He’s consistent. He’s a genius.
But why the hell wouldn't he do your tattoo?
“You're an ink virgin, right? Why do you want to get your tattoo done by me so much?” With much curiosity, Suna leaned against the chair, arms crossing against his chest as his eyes squeezed, waiting to scrutinize your answer.
“Why not? It’s because it’s you.” you simply answered back, finally capping the bottle of ink. In your peripheral vision, you saw how Suna’s eyes dilated but still kept his unpleasant posture. “But if you don’t want to ink my body then it’s fine with me. I’ve been pestering you about it since you started and it’s been a few years. I’m not getting any younger, that's why I wanted to at least get my first tattoo before I turn 27.”
Taken aback by your statement, Suna stayed quiet for a few seconds. Finished with your extra lending hands with his set up, you threw the pair of gloves into the yellow trash bag and finally faced the 6 '1 guy. Suna’s lips were pursed before he licked the lower part, tasting the cold metal of his lip piercing.
“Where do you want to get your first tatts?” he questioned as his gaze started lingering on your bare skin.
“I don’t know, do you have a preferred part?” you threw back, not having a single clue on where you wanted to get your first one.
Removing himself from the chair, he took a step forward, slowly making his way towards you. You weren’t sure why but your feet felt like it was glued on the ground. The vision started to get blurry, almost feeling dizzy but you found your vision focusing more on Suna, who’s already in front of you with a small curve of smile written on his face.
“If you ask me where,” he lifted his hand, letting his delicate fingers glide from your shoulder up to your collarbone that sent shivers to your spine. “I prefer it to be somewhere where others can’t see it. Somewhere where I’m the only one who can see it. Somewhere exclusive only for me.” he smirked and pulled himself away from you. “Kidding. Your body, your rules.”
His touch left your skin yet you could still feel his cold fingertips against yours. You felt your breathing stopped as you held it the whole moment he was in front of you and whispered those words to you. Damn you, Suna. He surely knew how to shake your whole existence in a few words.
“I’ll be going away for three days. I’ll go to Tokyo to attend a tattoo convention.” he spoke, not letting his gaze wander to anywhere except you. “If you happen to finally be decisive about the placement before I get back, I’ll do your tatts. In exchange, I’ll tell and show you something.” 
You grinned, finally hitting the jackpot. Bingo.
“Deal. I’ll see you in three days.” 
Suna let out a small chuckle when he saw how happy your eyes were. Silly, he thought. Who knew that a single tattoo could mean the world to a 25-year-old adult like you?
“Oh before I forget,” he suddenly remembered, turning to you once more. “Don’t worry. I’ll update for the next three days.”
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“Holy shit, Rintaro finally agreed to do yer tatts?!” Atsumu exclaimed, almost flipping the table.
“Shut your mouth, you’re spitting the best burger in Hyogo all over the place!” His twin brother, Osamu snarked at him.
Despite graduating from college and living your lives separately, one becoming a professional volleyball player for Japan, the other opening his own onigiri business, and you having your own clothing line, you couldn’t ignore the fact that the Miya twins literally have a special place in your heart. So here you are, sitting across them in a fast food chain with burgers and fries stuffed in your mouth as you continued catching up with each other’s lives after a few months of not seeing each other.
The twins know how much you wanted to get your first tattoo from Rintaro. Giving all their best shots and trying everything within their might, they still cannot lure their old mate into the trap. They were always shut down by Suna, especially Atsumu since he’s the one who’s been doing all of the talking and bargaining because apparently, he’s got a big mouth according to their fox-eyed friend.
They even went as far as recruiting the innocent Sakusa Kiyoomi, also one of their tattoo artist friends who recently opened his shop to blackmail Suna into inking your body; however, the latter just scoffed at their failed idea and told them to try harder again next time. With that, Atsumu shouldered Sakusa’s business permit expenses as a “payment” for pestering him.
“I mean, I’m also surprised, ‘yah know? It took me years to persuade him and now I just have to decide for the placement. But I would love to get it in red ink, though.” you shared your thoughts as you sipped from your diet cola.
“Did you already have a placement in your mind? Maybe your shoulders?” Osamu pointed at your exposed skin from wearing a tank top.
You just shrugged because honestly, you haven’t given it much thought yet. “I have an idea. But Rin told me that he prefers to do it somewhere exclusive only for him.” 
Atsumu bursted out, laughing his whole ass off that earned a few stares from the people around you. You and Osamu were puzzled, giving him a tyrannical look.
“Fucking hell, man. I am so proud,” he said between his laughs. “Rinrin has grown into a man! He’s got balls, Y/N! He finally got the dick, Samu!”
The rest of the night went well as you guys hit karaoke and arcade after dinner just like the old days. If it wasn’t for Atsumu’s official schedule the following day, the three of you plan to invite Suna for a drink because he’s finally returning back tonight from his 3-day tattoo convention in Tokyo. 
He kept his word on updating you. The very first thing that you saw when you opened your eyes on his first day in Tokyo was a ‘good morning’ text, followed by a mirror picture of him wearing a featured shirt from your summer collection. You blushed at the fact that he’s wearing your own creation even though he’s very supportive of it since the very start. He looked really good in your design.You told him that he doesn’t need to update you that much but his response was ‘Na uh. I’ll still update you so hurry up and think about where you wanted to get it, Ma’am.’. You knew that it was just a polite term yet, it’s enough to make your knees feel weak. But you were quick enough to shake the thoughts off, thinking that it’s just a friendly term to address his future client.
As the darkness engulfed the sky, the twins dropped you off in front of your apartment and bid them goodbye. It’s already 9 in the evening and you wonder if Suna’s already back in Hyogo because your message was left delivered and you haven’t received a single text from him since this afternoon.
As if on cue, your phone buzzed, flashing Suna’s contact photo on the screen.
Rintaro is calling…
“Yo.” you answered, unlocking the door of your unit.
“Ma’am? Did you just get home?” his raspy voice boomed on the other line of the phone. You never knew how much you longed for his presence, not until you heard his voice again for the first time in 3 days.
“Yup. We went to karaoke and arcade after dinner. We’re supposed to invite you for drinks but Tsumu’s got an official sched tomorrow.” you paused, kicking your shoe on the rack. “How about you? Did you just get home?”
“Yeah. Just got here and the first thing I did was to call you after fully charging my phone. It’s been dead since afternoon because I lost my charger. M’sorry for not messaging you.” you don’t know if you’re just a little bit tired from earlier but you could sense the hidden craving behind his voice.
“It’s okay, Rin. It’s no big deal,” you assured, as it was really not a big deal for you. “So, about the offer.”
You heard him clicking his tongue, followed by a soft chuckle. “Have you thought where you wanted to get your first ones, Ma’am?”
“Mhm. You wanna know where?” 
“Surprise me.”
It made you giggle like a highschool kid talking to her crush for the first time. Suna is really good with his words. On the other line, Suna was leaning his head against his black bed frame, unintentionally scratching his bare chest as he’s not used to wearing a top inside his house and saw it. He took a deep breath before biting his lower lip to surpass the fact that he’s thrilled with the thought of him finally marking your skin.
“Where do you want to get it done? It can be in my studio but I can also do home service, exclusive only for you.”
“I want to get it done in the studio. I wanted to experience sitting in your leather chair as a client, Sir.”
Damn. Something ignited inside Suna when he heard you calling Sir, right back when he started calling you Ma’am. It’s like a switch being flipped on. Composing his mind and shaking any thoughts, he nodded as if you’re seeing him right now.
“Alright then. We’ll start tomorrow at nine in the morning. Make sure to get enough sleep, eat breakfast and drink water. I’ll brief you tomorrow once we’re there, Ma’am. Remember that in exchange, I’ll tell and show you something.” he reminded, knowing that you don’t like going to bed early.
“Wow, your customer service is top tier.” you commended as your mind started intensifying with the thought of finally doing it tomorrow.
“Exclusive only for you, Ma’am.” he reminded once again, trying to hint you up.
“Okay, Sir. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’ll see you. Good night, Y/N.”
Fuck. It’s not the first time Suna has said that to you but your insides are rumbling. You felt your blood rushing as your vital organ increased the pumping because anytime now, you could feel suffocated from the excitement. Calm down. Calm down.
“Good night, Rin.”
With that, he let you hang up the call. Later that night, you tried your best to get a good night's sleep yet in your fantasy, you still feel like you’re sleep calling with Suna. You couldn’t take your mind off with his words earlier. He’s going to tell and show you something? Still trying to squeeze every cell of your brain, you cannot pulp any idea on what it’s going to be.
You just hope it’s nothing serious because it’s actually scary, the thought of him being dead serious on something. You shrugged off any negative thoughts and wished that it's nothing because you wouldn’t be able to grasp if it’s going to significantly impact your life in a pessimistic way. You might lose your shit because you know that you’re clearly, madly, deeply attached to Suna Rintaro.
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“So this is how it feels like to sit right here.” you spoke with awe as you comfortably aligned yourself with the chair’s depth. It was adjusted perfectly for your height.
Suna grinned, setting up the materials on the stainless table beside you. You offered to help but he quickly declined it, reasoning that you’re here as a client today, not as his self-labeled apprentice.
Despite being here lots of time already, it felt like this was the first time you’ve seen his studio. The details you didn’t notice before suddenly popped in your vision, such as the fern green wallpaper and plants that he’s been watering regularly. On the outside, it looks like Suna’s more of a monochrome guy but in reality, he adores green so much because according to him, it brings the dull color into life. For him, it feels like life.
You also noticed the usual well-lit led ceiling lights wrapped around the four corners of his studio are now dimly-lit as well as the aroma of lavender mint from his scented candles that he ignited for the first time since he got it lingering probably to cover up the smell of blood, dead skin, and ink. Oh, and there’s also an inspired portrait of his favorite characters from his favorite movies drawn in his own artstyle framed and hung on the walls. His usual arctic monkeys and heavy metal playlist was replaced with some 88rising, r&b, and keshi which are you favorite artists and genre at the moment,
You never took your time to appreciate Suna’s studio this much until now. 
“Okay Ma’am, show me where you wanted it to be placed.” he asked, almost ordering you. Taking a deep inhale, you were surely nervous as heck right now but you already made your mind. Somewhere where he’s the only one who can see it. Somewhere exclusive only for him, huh?
You slowly lifted your white shirt, revealing your red lace bralette that perfectly hugged your breasts. You specifically chose this outfit for this occasion. Swallowing a lump, you pointed at your waist up to the side of your right boob, passing it and nearly up to your armpit. “Here. I wanted to get it here.”
Suna was quiet the whole time yet his widened foxy eyes tell you otherwise. He’s speechless. His eyes were fixated on you, admiring the view which he saw for the first time. He knows that you’re sexy and elegant, but he didn’t expect that you’re this sexy. In his eyes, you are the most beautiful art he’s ever seen in his whole life. He fought the urge to hold you in your waist because he wanted to feel your skin against his.
“Tough spot. Damn Ma’am, you’re courageous.” he commented on your preference. You felt your cheeks heating up as embarrassment started creeping in because Suna hasn’t removed his gaze yet on your body. “Can I…touch it? I’ll just…assess it.”
You nodded, pressing your lips together as Suna’s gloved hand made its way to your body. He traced your torso up to your ribcage and he couldn’t help but to squeeze a small smile in between.
“Will it hurt?” you hesitantly asked.
“It will. But I’ll be gentle, I promise.” you almost choked on his answer because it gave you other ideas. “Now make yourself comfortable. Tell me if it hurts, we’ll take a break. I’ll do my best to make it painless but I cannot guarantee.”
You fixed your position on the inclined chair, making yourself at home on your left side but your torso was slightly flattened down, facing him to get a better access to the area, especially your sides up to your armpit. Suna sat down in the swivel stool and faced you from your left, maintaining his demeanor as he grabbed the stencil he prepared. You intentionally didn’t ask about the design he planned because you also wanted to surprise yourself with Suna's creativity. You wanted to astonish yourself and it pretty much tells how big your trust is when it comes to Suna.
Once he’s done with shaving the excess hair, the paper hits your side, tickling your skin as Suna’s gloved hand starts flattening it against your body. It was followed by the cold sensation of the adhesive washing the paper. His right pinky accidentally brushed against your boob, making you scream internally. In no time, he’s already removing the piece of paper, indicating that the stencil’s already in place.
Suna licked his lower lip and you noticed how he wore his usual snake bites differently today by swapping the horseshoe jewelry into a plain one. He pushed himself forward but still maintained the distance between the two of you. Reaching out for the tattoo gun, you’ve already had an idea how it sounded but when he tested it and made a whirring sound that buzzed on your ears, you found yourself clutching the hem of Suna’s shirt due to the tense building up inside your stomach.
“You alright, Y/N?” he asked, staring down at you. The whole point of view sent you to spiral as you never imagined yourself being under Suna.
“Yeah, sorry. I hope you don’t mind this.” you pointed at your hands curled into his shirt which earned him a few laughs. Suna thought that it was so fucking cute when look so small to him.
“You’re free to hold me wherever.” he smiled, caressing your exposed shoulder as a sign of assurance. “Remember that if it hurts too much, just tap out and we can take a break, Ma’am.”
Bobbing your head, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath as the sound of the gun reverberated once again. Suna started poking the needle against your skin. The first five minutes were much more uncomfortable rather than painful - almost feeling like a slow rug burn. However, as he moved upwards and started hitting the bones of your side ribs, it started feeling hell that you couldn’t help but small whimpers escaped from your mouth. It stings like crazy.
“Are you okay? We can take a break. Do you want some water?” Suna offered concern as he saw your forehead creased into an agonizing expression.
“N-no, just continue. I’ll eventually get used to it.” you declared, not wanting to raise your white flag.
Suna nodded and started working on it again. You could feel like he’s outlining something in more of a swivel way. You could also feel like there’s a lot of lines and shading going on. The next 30 minutes were spent with the two of you talking about college, reminiscing the memories you shared together as well as with the Miya twins. Another 30 minutes and he’s already wrapping up by taking one last wipe before applying the tattoo jelly on the area. 
“I thought that it will be painful as fuck,” you said truthfully. “You wrecked my expectations, Rin.” 
“Well, it’s an honor to be complimented by you. I told you, I’ll be gentle.” he winked, removing his gloves on his hands. “Congratulations, Y/N. You’re no longer a tattoo virgin.”
Laughters echoed in the room as he clapped at your achievement. He grabbed the mirror that was lying beside your chair and signaled you to sit up. Obeying him, you lifted yourself as you felt your skin being stretched.
“I hope you like my design, Y/N.” flipping the mirror, you saw your inked skin for the first time.
Your mouth parted, eyes filled with wonderstruck. 
There’s a lot of fine lines from the upper part of your side, down to your ribs, and finally your waist. The lines were broken yet some of them were connected with each other. In the middle, there’s multiple flowers drawn in outline, looking like they have bloomed together. You couldn’t elucidate the design in words yet your brain could tell how it looks and your heart could tell how it feels like to be inked distinctively.
You finally understood why they call Suna a genius. Because he’s the only one who has the ability to make you feel like you're abstract and he’s the only one who can understand you.
“Do you like it?” he asked, a little bit nervous as you stayed silent.
“Like?” you questioned. “I fucking love it, Rintarou. I love it so much that it made me speechless… Thank you. Wow…Seriously, thank you.”
You’re not kidding. You’re not exaggerating. You were at a loss for words because only the silence of appreciation could speak for right now on how you feel about the design.
Pleased, a genuine smile carved on Suna’s lips as he watched you beaming with joy on your first body art done by none other than him.
“Now in exchange, I want you to pop my shirt.” he cleared his throat, bringing the mirror down as he signaled you.. Your face was puzzled. Pop…his shirt? “Come here, Y/N. Take off my shirt.”
You were hesitant at first but you gradually moved towards him and lifted his shirt out of his body. You have never seen him shirtless before because as far as you know, it makes him uncomfortable to show some skin to others before that’s why you never saw him wearing sleeveless before. And now he’s asking you to pop his shirt for what reason?
Pulling the fabric above, Suna’s exposed skin was hit with the cool air. You gasped when you saw multiple scars across the chest and lower body. Some of them formed multiple layers above each other, making the skin rise from its base. He doesn’t have any tattoo in his lower body but he has one in his chest, near his heart. And it was…shit. Could it be…?
“You see, Y/N, I never really talked about this before but my dad used to uh, beat me up with a socket wrench when I was a child,” he spoke, voice filled with coldness. “He’s an addict and whenever he doesn’t have the money to support his damn addiction, he’ll find another way to release his stress and that is to beat me up whenever he’s got the fucking chance.”
You felt like all the nerves in your body were paralyzed as your eyes slowly widened, sinking his words inside your head. He’s dad is what? Beating him? With a socket wrench? Fuck.
“I thought I wouldn’t be able to reach college, ya know? That’s why when I was given the privilege to still continue my education, I didn’t let it go to waste as I thought that it was the only way to escape from the madness of my life.” his fingers brushed against his scars. It was healed, probably years ago yet you could visibly see the paint being painted on his face as he felt the trace of his yesterday.
“And suddenly, all of this turned all the way around when I became friends with the twins and you.” he lifted his gaze, maintaining his eye contact with you. Something ignited inside Suna when he met your orbs. He felt like colors bursted in his eyes. “When my dad finally got the help he needed and I made peace with whatever demons I have, that’s when I felt like I had another chance with life. That’s why when I started taking interest in inking, I took it very seriously because for the first time, I saw that I finally saw that I got the chance to stand in life. To live, not just to survive.”
The sincere confession made a short pang inside your heart. All this time, he was hurting. All the damn time, he’s living his life in hell. And being friends with him, just being by his side, made him realize that he can finally free himself from the uncanny of his life.
“The reason why I keep on rejecting your request is because I am not ready yet. Y/N, I spent my whole career crafting the most unique design I could ever create for you. Just for you. I wanted to make it the best among the rest. Also, as cheesy as it may sound, I wanted to be the man worthy of inking your very first tattoo.”
You felt like your heart’s going feral inside your ribcage. Suna stood up in front of you, bare bodies touching each other. You could feel his minty hot breath tickling your nose despite the coldness of the room. Slowly, he grabbed both of your hands and intertwined your fingers together before bringing it in front of you to plant a soft kiss on it.
“I’m sorry that it took me this much time to be worthy of everything. Thank you for not giving up on me. You may notice the lines in your tattoos, it represents the thought of despite being broken, you could still find your way back and bloom within it. Y/N, you gave me that reason to bloom again at my own pace.”
He dragged your hands in his chest, making you feel the only tattoo he has on his upper body. “Y/N, this is your initials. This was my very first tattoo and I intentionally got it in my heart so that whenever I hold my heart, I’ll always remember that you’re here.”
Suna’s eyes glimmered, mirroring yours as you could feel him getting more emotional any second. Giving up, you stood on your toes, enclosing the centimeters given between the two of you by latching your lips to his. Without giving it a second thought, Suna pulled you closer, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. It was a hot, wet kiss that the two of you shared as tears started tearing down in your cheeks. When Suna tasted the salty liquid, he finally let his guard down and cried himself between the sloppy kiss.
Pulling away, both of you were panting as your cheeks were stained with the liquid that you shared. You let out a chuckle and pulled him into a tight hug which he gladly returned.
“You’re never late, Suna. You will always be the tattoo artist that captivated my heart, no matter what and no matter how long it takes. I’ll always wait for your creations, and I’ll kiss every one of your flaws until you realize you’re love.”
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© lightaflaem. do not repost on any platform.
bonus
y/n's "exclusive" tattoo made it to suna's instagram :]
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prokopetz · 1 year ago
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The Gremlin Game Designer's Creed
Rules are toys, and the process of rules-mediated play consists of smashing their faces together like little girls making their Barbies make out. Unless a rules module is explicitly intended to be enacted solo, it should present a generous surface area for other rules to bite into. The most elegantly self-contained piece of rules design is, collaboratively speaking, also the most useless.
The principal function of "player characters" as discrete collections of mechanical traits is to furnish each player with an assemblage of shiny things to show off to other players. Mechanical abstraction is well and good, but if you abstract away the act of curating one's collection of shinies, player engagement will suffer.
The GM, if present, is a fellow player. Ensure that they have their own toys and shinies to play with. The failure of a game to provide these is often a major contributor to why nobody wants to run it!
The most effective way of encouraging players to do what you want is to make a number go up. This applies to both to rewards and to misfortunes; a number counting up to disaster a much more visceral motivator than a number counting down to zero.
Crunch is good. The defining feature of tabletop roleplaying is that rules produce stories. The act of interpreting the outputs of the rules and the act of telling the game's story are the same activity. Be mindful of what kinds of stories your rules want to tell; you may find that their opinion on the matter differs from your own!
Actually assembling your game's rules is as much a process of discovery as it is of invention. In the course of designing and playtesting, you may find that your own game has rules that you didn't know about. Where did they come from? It is a mystery.
Randomised outcomes should be made mandatory with care and restraint; randomised outcomes should be made available with delirious abandon. As far as is practicable, players should always have the option of asking the dice what unhinged bullshit should happen next. Corollary: lookup tables are your friend.
Players don't need your permission to depart from the rules as written; granting it is arrogant. By the same token, however, it should never be unclear to players whether they're departing from the rules as written. Let the thought process behind what you're writing hang out for all the world to see; folks will be rummaging in the game's guts anyway, so give them easy access.
If your game has a default setting, explain it as little as possible, but always let the rules and presentation reflect it. Seeing an entry for "poorly made dwarf" in a table of player character backgrounds will fire a group's imagination more strongly in three words than a chapter stuffed with worldbuilding lore could in ten thousand.
You don't need to be good at naming things as long as you're good at puns. Wordplay, alliteration and rhyme may also serve in this capacity, as, in a pinch, may a well placed dick joke.
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gilbertscurls · 18 days ago
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Snoop (pt. 2) ➵ Matt Sturniolo
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summary: after you've found a small box in matt's drawer, the time finally comes.
The day had finally arrived—your five-year anniversary with Matt. He’d been teasing you about a surprise for weeks, but never let any details slip. After your discovery of the ring in his sock drawer, the anticipation had become almost unbearable. You hadn’t let on that you knew, though—part of you wanted to let him have the moment exactly as he’d planned it.
That morning, Matt had been unusually quiet, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a kind of nervous energy. He’d packed an overnight bag for both of you, insisting on taking you somewhere special. The excitement in his eyes, though mixed with some nerves, made you even more eager to see what he had planned.
As the car wound its way through the tree-lined road, the golden light of the setting sun filtered through the leaves. The drive was peaceful, with only the sound of the radio playing softly in the background. You were holding his hand, your heart pounding as you both sat in comfortable silence. Whatever was coming, you could feel it in the air.
After what felt like forever, Matt pulled up to a secluded clearing by the edge of a sparkling lake. The sight before you took your breath away. Tall pine trees surrounded the area, their branches swaying gently in the evening breeze. The lake stretched out before you, its surface reflecting the fiery hues of the setting sun, and in the middle of the clearing, there was a pathway lit by soft, twinkling fairy lights that led to a small, open pavilion draped in white curtains.
You turned to Matt, your eyes wide. “This is beautiful…”
Matt smiled, his face soft with emotion as he looked at you. “It’s not over yet. Come on.” He took your hand and led you down the lighted path toward the pavilion.
As you reached the center of the pavilion, your heart swelled. There was a small table set with candles, your favorite flowers, and soft music playing from somewhere in the distance. It felt like something out of a dream, like the whole world had been designed for this exact moment.
Matt stood in front of you, his hands trembling slightly as he reached out to take yours. His eyes were locked on yours, and you could see the depth of emotion in them—something you’d always known was there, but that felt even more powerful tonight.
“Y/N,” he began, his voice quiet but steady. “There’s so much I’ve been thinking about for the past few months. We’ve been through so much together—more than I ever thought possible when we first started dating. And every single day with you… it’s just made me more sure that I don’t want to spend my life with anyone else.”
Tears welled up in your eyes as he spoke, your heart beating so hard you thought he might hear it.
“I’ve had this whole speech planned out,” he continued, his voice wavering just slightly, “but now that I’m standing here, none of the words seem good enough. How do you tell the person you love more than anything that they mean the world to you? How do you put into words what it feels like to wake up next to your best friend every day, knowing that this is exactly where you’re meant to be?”
Your tears spilled over, and Matt gently squeezed your hands, his own eyes glistening now.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is… you’ve made me the happiest person I’ve ever been. And I don’t want to wait any longer to start the rest of our lives together.”
Matt took a deep breath and let go of one of your hands, reaching into his pocket. Your heart stopped as he knelt down on one knee, pulling out that same small velvet box you’d found weeks ago.
He looked up at you, his voice barely above a whisper now. “Y/N, will you marry me?”
The world seemed to pause in that moment. The twinkling lights, the soft music, the golden light of the setting sun—all of it blurred as you looked down at the man you loved, your chest tight with overwhelming emotion.
With tears streaming down your face, you nodded, barely able to get the words out. “Yes. Of course, yes.”
Matt’s face broke into the most beautiful smile you’d ever seen as he stood, slipping the ring onto your finger. The instant the cool metal touched your skin, you felt a rush of joy so profound it took your breath away.
He pulled you into his arms, holding you tight as the tears flowed freely from both of you. You felt his heart pounding against yours, and in that moment, you knew that this was it—this was your forever.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft pink glow across the sky, you stood there in Matt’s arms, knowing that the next chapter of your lives had just begun. And it was going to be more magical than you ever could have imagined.
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tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash
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angelpuns · 11 days ago
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Here's the official Lil Hater Donnie ref!
I opted for a pretty simple design for him, while thinking a lot about how his recovery post-krang went. He has a bit of nerve damage and is working to accommodate for that as it continues to develop. He didn't have too many issues immediately following the invasion, except for the scarring and sensitivity on his shell, but a lot of the issues have shown up later. He didn't upgrade his tech a ton because using his ninpo has become a lot more commonplace and he's even better with it than before. However, for his cane he has recreated his tech bo.
For the most part he just uses the cane function, though if he really needs to he can also whip out the tech bo. He can also use his ninpo to make a cane if he really, really needs to, but for the most part he keeps it on him. He only really uses it currently when having to walk long distances or stand for a while, but Leo (who is still the team medic atp) has projected him maybe having to use it more in the future as things progress. They are trying to prevent that, but there's only so much they can do :/
He did not have as difficult of a time accepting the cane as Leo did with his crutches/wheelchair, but that was mostly due to already having to accommodate for his shell - especially post invasion when he couldn't wear his battle shell for a while.
Speaking of his battle shell, he has used mostly the same design, but has made it a bit more flexible as well as a lot lighter and not nearly as strong/heavy as previous shells. He has also optimized comfort on the inside and made it adjustable like Leo's in order to accommodate for his sensitivity and damaged shell. His shell is completely healed, but it is still very sensitive from time to time and he does have a bit of nerve damage in some areas that has extended a bit to his legs.
Donnie currently is working with both Big Mama/The Hidden City AND New York on security measures. There's a bit of tension between the Hidden City and the surface of New York post-invasion, so he's playing for both teams in a sense. Mostly for fun, but also they pay decently :)
If you have any questions please send em! I'll answer as best as I can! I also will gladly accept feedback or suggestions, especially regarding his nerve damage and his cane, whether that's design or usage or what-have-you, because I am still doing research :)
Closeups under the cut!
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rodolfoparras · 10 months ago
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Cw: 18+, blowjobs, anal play, old man price, mythological world, ritual sacrifice, virgin! Price, bottom!price, centaur!male reader
For @lieutnt 🫶🏻
Thinking about old man Price who lives in a little town terrorized by what’s known as an evil creature. In order to keep the creature at bay the towns people sacrifice a virgin every year.
However throughout the years the population has decreased so there’s just one virgin left and it’s Price, but he’s a man, and an old one at that.
But he willingly agrees to the ordeal because he doesn’t have anyone left - no friends no family so might as well end his misery.
The towns people prepare him in the best way they can; they groom him and feed him whatever he wishes to eat, all while he pretends that they aren’t setting him up for his death sentence.
The day finally comes when he is to be sacrificed and he is absolutely terrified. What if the creature thinks they’re mocking it by bringing an old man?
But Price tries to tell himself that this - death- is what he wanted in the first place so he shouldn’t have a reason to be scared.
But he can feel himself shake as he approaches the place where he is to be sacrificed. It is a dense wooded area with a small lake laying nearby, along with that it’s eerily quiet but Price sits down on his designated spot and waits for the creature to come.
He waits and waits, hears his heart beating in his chest, fingers nervously fiddling with the grass under him
All of a sudden he hears steps, that sound something akin to galloping and he freezes in place, doesn’t even dare breathe as he hears the creature approach him.
The steps come to a halt and he feels someone’s hot breath washing over his skin, can smell an earthy scent surrounding him, can even see a shadowy figure reflected onto the grassy field.
His eyes squeeze shut, fingers clutching onto tufts of grass while he silently wishes goodbye to whoever might hear or see him now.
But instead of meeting his demise he’s being flipped around and met with the sight of a man, no half man half horse. This must be the creature that’s been terrorizing his town but you don’t look anything like what he’d imagined and you certainly don’t act anything like it, when you gently cupping his cheek, eyes trailing over him as if taking him in before a contented hum escapes your lips.
Slowly but surely you’re stripping the clothes off of him, before laying him on a tree stub- the stub used for sacrifice, all while keeping a gentle hoof beneath him, essentially cushioning him from the rough surface.
He feels exposed like this, cold air caressing his bare skin and raising goosebumps all over his body.
But he doesn’t feel scared, not when you’re gentle as ever as you drag your hands over his rib cage, down to his hips before stopping at his thighs, big strong hands firmly pinning him to the stub.
You don’t say anything, maybe you don’t even know how to speak but Price likes to think that maybe you’re admiring him, that you aren’t as disgusted as he thought you’d be at having an old splayed out in front of you.
He doesn’t get to dwell on it any longer before he feels your long wet tongue languidly dragging along his shaft, and Price cries out, so loud he scares the birds that had been resting in the trees nearby. The small animals swiftly fly away as you drag your tongue across his slit, before suckling on his tip.
Your mouth is hot and ever so eager as you suck on his dick, a mess of slick and spit collecting on his skin, eagerly devorouing him like he’d devoured his last meal and Price looses himself in the feeling.
He thought that he’d be here to please but instead you’re the one buried between his thighs, taking care of this old man and he could almost cry- from pleasure - from relief and he does, fat tears rolling down his flushed cheeks as he claws at the stub beneath him.
“Please, please-“ he pleads, hands desperately reaching out as he feels you pull away from his cock.
But within seconds he’s being flipped around on the stub, ass in the air, head buried in the ground as he feels cold wet fingers caress his spine.
“Please, take me please,” he’s not even aware what he’s saying anymore mind hazy and lost in please and eager oh so eager for more “please,” he cries out into the sky, looking up at what appears to be blurry stars in his teary eyes .
You grant him his wish, working one- two- three fingers inside of him, but it’s not enough, even with the pleasant burn and strech that comes with it. He needs more, starts clawing at your hooves in desperation while muttering the words “please take me please take me,”
But you ignore his please, continuing to scissor your fingers inside of him, stretching him til he starts feeling empty even with four thick digits fucking into him,
For a second Price thinks you won’t accept him as your offering, maybe you’d gone this far and decided he wasn’t worth it and he almost breaks down right then and there, mind distraught while also hazy with pleasure, desperately fucking himself back on your fingers, and chasing whatever crumbs of pleasure you’re willing to give him.
But just as he’s about to tip over the edge you pull away but only to line up your cockhead with his entrance, before you push inside of him.
You had accepted his offering.
You had accepted him.
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avnnetwork · 5 months ago
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Connecting the World: Telecommunications Satellites Enhance Global Communication Networks
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In an increasingly interconnected world, the role of telecommunications has never been more critical. The rapid growth of digital communication technologies has significantly transformed the way we live, work, and interact with one another. At the heart of this transformation lies a technology that orbits high above us – telecommunications satellites. These sophisticated machines play a pivotal role in bridging gaps across continents, bringing people closer, and enabling the seamless exchange of information on a global scale.
Telecommunications satellites are the backbone of modern communication networks. These satellites are designed to transmit signals across vast distances, overcoming the limitations of terrestrial infrastructure. By relaying signals from one point on the Earth's surface to another, they enable instant communication, regardless of geographical barriers. This capability has revolutionized various sectors, from media broadcasting to internet services, emergency communications, and more.
The Evolution of Telecommunications Satellites
The journey of telecommunications satellites began in the mid-20th century. Early experiments with satellite communication laid the groundwork for what would become a global network. The launch of the first artificial satellite, Sputnik, in 1957 marked the dawn of the space age. However, it wasn't until the launch of the first geostationary satellite in 1965 that the true potential of satellite communication was realized. This satellite, positioned in a fixed location relative to the Earth's surface, could provide continuous coverage to a specific region, paving the way for real-time communication across the globe.
Since then, telecommunications satellites have evolved dramatically. Advances in technology have led to the development of more sophisticated satellites with greater capacity, reliability, and efficiency. Modern satellites are equipped with high-powered transponders, enabling them to handle large volumes of data transmission. These advancements have expanded the capabilities of satellite communication, making it an indispensable part of the global communication network.
How Telecommunications Satellites Work
The operation of telecommunications satellites is based on the principles of radio frequency transmission. These satellites receive signals from ground-based stations, amplify them, and retransmit them back to other ground stations. The process involves several key components:
Uplink: The transmission of signals from a ground station to the satellite. This is typically done using high-frequency radio waves.
Transponder: The component within the satellite that receives the uplink signal, amplifies it, and changes its frequency for retransmission.
Downlink: The transmission of signals from the satellite back to a ground station. This completes the communication loop, allowing the original signal to reach its intended destination.
Satellites are positioned in different orbits depending on their specific functions. Geostationary satellites, which orbit at approximately 35,786 kilometers above the equator, provide continuous coverage to specific regions. Low Earth orbit (LEO) satellites, positioned much closer to the Earth's surface, offer lower latency and are often used for services requiring real-time data transmission, such as internet connectivity.
Impact on Global Communication Networks
The impact of telecommunications satellites on global communication networks is profound. They have enabled a level of connectivity that was previously unimaginable, facilitating the seamless exchange of information across vast distances. Here are some key areas where their impact is most evident:
Media and Broadcasting
Telecommunications satellites have revolutionized the media and broadcasting industry. They enable the transmission of television and radio signals to remote and underserved areas, ensuring that people worldwide have access to information and entertainment. Live broadcasts of major events, such as sports competitions and political speeches, are made possible through satellite technology, allowing audiences to experience these moments in real time.
Internet Connectivity
In many parts of the world, terrestrial internet infrastructure is either insufficient or nonexistent. Telecommunications satellites provide a vital solution to this problem by offering internet connectivity to remote and rural areas. Satellite internet services have become increasingly popular, providing reliable and high-speed internet access to communities that were previously disconnected.
Emergency Communications
During natural disasters and emergencies, terrestrial communication networks are often disrupted. Telecommunications satellites play a crucial role in providing emergency communication services, ensuring that rescue and relief operations can be coordinated effectively. Satellite phones and portable satellite communication devices are essential tools for first responders and humanitarian organizations, enabling them to maintain communication in even the most challenging conditions.
Global Navigation Systems
Telecommunications satellites are also integral to global navigation systems. They provide the precise timing and positioning data required for navigation and location-based services. These systems are essential for various applications, including aviation, maritime, and land transportation, as well as for personal navigation devices used by millions of people worldwide.
Future Trends and Developments
The field of telecommunications satellites is continually evolving, driven by advancements in technology and increasing demand for connectivity. Several trends and developments are shaping the future of this industry:
High Throughput Satellites (HTS)
High throughput satellites represent a significant advancement in satellite technology. These satellites offer substantially increased data transmission capacity, enabling faster and more reliable communication services. HTS technology is particularly beneficial for providing broadband internet access to remote and underserved areas, helping to bridge the digital divide.
Constellations of LEO Satellites
One of the most exciting developments in satellite communication is the deployment of constellations of low Earth orbit satellites. These constellations consist of hundreds or even thousands of small satellites working together to provide global coverage. LEO constellations offer lower latency and higher data transfer rates compared to traditional geostationary satellites, making them ideal for applications such as internet of things (IoT) connectivity and real-time data services.
Advances in Satellite Manufacturing
Advances in satellite manufacturing are making it possible to produce smaller, more cost-effective satellites. These miniaturized satellites, often referred to as smallsats or cubesats, can be launched in large numbers, providing flexible and scalable communication solutions. The reduced cost of manufacturing and launching these satellites is driving innovation and enabling new players to enter the market.
Integration with Terrestrial Networks
The integration of satellite communication with terrestrial networks is another key trend. Hybrid networks that combine satellite and terrestrial technologies can offer seamless connectivity, ensuring that users have access to reliable communication services regardless of their location. This integration is particularly important for providing consistent internet coverage in areas with challenging terrain or sparse infrastructure.
Challenges and Considerations
While telecommunications satellites offer numerous benefits, there are also challenges and considerations to address. One of the primary challenges is the cost associated with launching and maintaining satellites. The development, launch, and operation of satellites require significant investment, which can be a barrier for some organizations.
Additionally, the increasing number of satellites in orbit raises concerns about space debris and collision risks. Ensuring the long-term sustainability of space activities requires careful management of satellite operations and the implementation of measures to mitigate the risk of space debris.
Conclusion
Telecommunications satellites have fundamentally transformed global communication networks, enabling instant connectivity and information exchange across vast distances. From media broadcasting and internet connectivity to emergency communications and global navigation, the impact of these satellites is far-reaching and profound.
As technology continues to advance, the future of telecommunications satellites looks promising. High throughput satellites, LEO constellations, and advancements in satellite manufacturing are set to further enhance the capabilities of satellite communication. By overcoming challenges and embracing innovation, telecommunications satellites will continue to play a crucial role in connecting the world, bridging gaps, and enabling a more connected and informed global community.
In a world where connectivity is essential, telecommunications satellites stand as a testament to human ingenuity and the relentless pursuit of progress. They embody the spirit of exploration and innovation, bringing people closer together and fostering a sense of global unity. As we look to the future, the continued evolution of telecommunications satellites promises to unlock new possibilities and drive the next wave of communication advancements.
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blogport · 4 months ago
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EPOXYSHİNE - DRAGON+ (4)
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When it comes to innovative interior design, the choice of flooring plays a pivotal role in defining the overall aesthetic and functionality of a space. Among the various options available, metallic floors have emerged as a striking trend, blending style with durability. Their unique finish not only adds a contemporary edge but also reflects light, creating a sense of openness in any room. Meanwhile, alternatives like quartz flooring offer an equally compelling mix of elegance and resilience, perfect for those seeking a natural yet refined look. 
Metallic Floor
Metallic floor have become an exciting trend in modern interior and exterior design, offering a sleek and futuristic aesthetic. This type of flooring is typically made using materials like epoxy, polished concrete, or terrazzo, which can be infused with metallic pigments that reflect light. The unique appearance of a metallic floor allows for a striking look, making a bold statement in any space.
One of the significant advantages of metallic floor finishes is their durability and resistance to wear and tear. Unlike traditional flooring options, metallic surfaces are often resistant to stains, scratches, and impact damage, making them ideal for high-traffic areas such as commercial spaces or homes with pets and children. Additionally, they can be easily cleaned and maintained, preserving their luster and shine over time.
In terms of design versatility, metallic floors can be customized to fit various interior themes, from industrial chic to modern minimalism. Available in a range of colors and finishes, they can seamlessly blend into the environment or stand out as a focal point. Furthermore, incorporating metallic flooring can enhance the overall ambiance of a space, reflecting light and creating an illusion of depth, thus making a room feel larger and more open.
Quartz Flooring
When it comes to choosing a flooring option that combines beauty and durability, Quartz flooring stands out as a premier choice. This type of flooring is composed primarily of natural quartz crystals, which are not only aesthetically pleasing but also incredibly tough. As a result, Quartz flooring is resistant to scratches, stains, and other wear and tear that can occur over time.
Another significant advantage of Quartz flooring is its versatility. It is available in a vast array of colors and patterns, making it a suitable option for any home or office decor. Whether you're looking for a sleek modern look or a more traditional style, Quartz flooring can provide the perfect finish to your space.
Furthermore, Quartz flooring is known for its low maintenance requirements. Unlike other flooring types that may need frequent refinishing or special cleaning products, Quartz flooring can be easily cleaned with mild soap and water. This not only saves time but also makes it an economical choice in the long run.
Concrete Floor
When it comes to flooring options, concrete floor have risen in popularity due to their durability and aesthetic appeal. Unlike traditional flooring materials, concrete can be customized in various finishes and colors, allowing homeowners and businesses to create a unique look that complements their design vision.
In addition to their visual versatility, concrete floors are incredibly strong and resistant to wear and tear. This makes them an ideal choice for high-traffic areas, where traditional flooring may suffer from scratches, dents, and fading over time. Concrete not only stands up to heavy use but is also easy to maintain, requiring only simple cleaning and occasional sealing.
Sustainability is another key advantage of concrete flooring. As a naturally abundant material, concrete has a lower environmental impact compared to other flooring options.
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pin-k-ink · 7 months ago
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glyph // terushima yuuji
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tw ⇢ tattoo artist!yuuji, fingering, dirty talk, biting, marking, nipple play, unprotected sex, mild overstimulation, manhandling
wc ⇢ 4.9k
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The doorbell chimed with a cheerful tinkle as you stepped into the cozy tattoo parlor. Despite having made this particular pilgrimage several times before, you still felt a ripple of anxious anticipation as you glanced around the warm, dimly lit space.
Behind a vintage wood-and-glass counter stationed just inside the entrance, stood the compact, heavily tattooed owner giving you a welcoming grin and a lazy two-fingered salute.
"Here for another bit of my world-class ink?" Came the familiar raspy tones, clearly modulated to broadcast over the steady thrum of nu-metal currently filling the studio.
You answered his jovial greeting with an easy grin of your own, sidling up to lean casually against the front counter's lacquered surface. "Damn straight. Though if it ends up being subpar work like last time, you're gonna have to give me a freebie make-good," you shot back with a wink.
Terushima scoffed loudly at the playful dig, rolling his eyes dramatically as he made a show of slinging his forearm across the countertop -- putting his own extensive body art brazenly on display in the process. Colorful renderings of traditional Japanese imagery swirled in mesmerizing patterns from wrist to collar, punctuated by crisp black line work and embellished with strategic flashes of vibrantly stylized shading.
"Listen smartass," he drawled without any real heat. "If you want to keep deluding yourself that you didn't bewitch me into making masterpieces grace that gorgeous skin of yours, be my guest. Just don't come crying when your dumbass blows our next appointment making dopey excuses for a rain check."
You laughed, easily settling into the familiar cadences of your long-running, playful banter with the talented tattoo artist. Truth be told, you relished these brief preludes to each session nearly as much as the actual artistry that followed. Terushima's unfiltered charisma and effortless way of putting you at ease was unmatched...not to mention how you always inexplicably found yourself growing flustered under the sheer magnetism of his piercing stare and toothy grins.
Shoving that disconcerting train of thought aside, you arched a single challenging brow. "Listen blade-stud, if I do end up missing another appointment, you'd best rush right over and tattoo THIS masterpiece yourself." You accompanied the provocative statement with a full-body once over that could only be described as a deliberate ogle. "Not that you'd find that to be such an imposition..."
Terushima's eyes predictably followed your shamelessly appraising perusal of his lean, athletic form -- taking in the molten embers that flared to life in his already smoldering gaze. He momentarily dragged his pierced tongue across those full lips in a move so blatant it made your mouth go dry, clearly chewing over some filthy riposte to lob back in your direction.
Anxiety and something dangerously akin to arousal thrummed through you in equal measure as the heavy tension stretched out between you, thick as river mud. A few abortive throat-clearings from the other occupants of the waiting area finally snapped you out of the heated stalemate.
Flushing dull crimson, you backpedaled with a somewhat sheepish grin. "So uh...y'think we can squeeze in that new side-piece today? I've got the design reference and everything pulled up if you're free."
Terushima eyed you with a distinctly predatory gleam lingering in the depths of those tawny irises for another suspended beat. Then, with the flick of a switch, he was oozing pure professionalism once more -- chasing away the thick undercurrents of provocative energy as a friendly grin stretched across his angular features.
"Course we can, no sweat," he agreed easily, straightening away from the counter and nodding towards the interior corridor leading to the private studio spaces. "Right this way, let's get you set up so I can pour all my creative juices into whatever you had in mind."
You opened your mouth to sling back a rejoinder to that obscenely leading statement...but Terushima had already turned on his heel and was sauntering down the hall without a backward glance. All you could do was stand rooted in place, cheeks burning as you took a fortifying breath and moved to follow.
This was going to be one hell of a long session, you could already tell.
By the time Terushima had you arranged on the padded recliner, he had already helped shuttle any lingering tension over the edge into professionalism. He made quick, efficient work of prepping the arm you indicated for the new ink -- asking concise follow-up questions about placement, size, and the design inspirations you were aiming to channel with this latest addition to your body art.
For his part, you found the artist hyper-focused and in the zone once preparations were underway. He handled your limb with the utmost care, yet also an understated reverence that spoke to how seriously he took his craft. The bold slashes of colorful imagery covering his own sun-kissed skin served as a living portfolio of his talent, only whetting your anticipation more acutely as he pulled up the digital rendering and reference designs on a mounted tablet.
"Lookin' to weave in some of those natural scenery elements we discussed last time?" Terushima asked in a low, effortless rasp as he scrutinized the design mock-up with a critical eye. "Maybe incorporate some structural geometry from that hiking trail you're so in love with as the framing borderwork?"
His fingers danced across the digital sketchpad, making minute adjustments and allowances to the linework right before your eyes. The deft movements were hypnotizing -- much like watching an artistic savant at their most inspired and open. You hummed an affirmative, finding yourself momentarily distracted by the glide of those long, calloused digits working their magic to translate your vague musings into visual reality.
"If you think it will all tie together into one cohesive statement, I trust your interpretation completely," you managed at last. Flicking a glance up towards Terushima's face, you found his piercing stare locked intently on the developing design rather than meeting yours. The ambient glow of the screens threw mesmerizing shadows across the sharp planes of his features, beautifully sculpted as if an artisan themselves had chiseled every line to classical proportions.
You swallowed hard against a sudden surge of longing completely at odds with the benign circumstances. Ever since meeting Terushima through a mutual friend's referral and sitting for your very first piece, you had felt these increasingly intrusive flashes of appreciation towards the talented artist -- inexplicable yearnings to run curious fingertips across the bold strokes of color and crisp linework decorating his taut skin. To taste the bright zing of his sunny, artful essence against your feverish mouth in moments of inspired abandon...
Ruthlessly, you shoved such wayward thoughts aside with a mental shake. Now wasn't the time for thirst-addled daydreams about Terushima's no-doubt impressive assets...and skill set. Besides, the idea of ever acting on those burgeoning compulsions was utterly laughable. You were a client, period -- and one he obviously had strictly platonic vibes towards if his easy, unaffected demeanor around you was any indication. Still, you couldn't resist sneaking one last sidelong look at the mesmerizing picture he made while completely immersed in the creative process.
Terushima wore the consummate aura of an artistic genius so effortlessly. From the mussed tumble of pale blonde hair to the way his broad shoulders rolled subtly with each sweeping movement, he exuded a quiet intensity that was utterly arresting to behold up close. You felt your heart stutter as the muscles in his arms and chest flexed in fascinating undulations with the motions of sketching -- unconsciously etching themselves into your frantic memory for later, more indecent contemplations.
"There it is," he breathed at last after several long minutes of intent focus. Rising to his feet with an easy, athletic roll of lean hips, Terushima pivoted the mounted tablet towards your awaiting scrutiny. "Pretty neat way to incorporate those natural elements you were going for while keeping it all grounded with some unified geometric rendering, yeah? Those lines should flow perfectly into the top-piece you already have planned out once we finish inking."
You startled slightly at the proximity of his voice. Jerking your gaze away from where it had been tracing the crisp vee of Terushima's slender hips, you blinked owlishly before hurrying to study the design mock-up anew. He was right, of course -- the linework and shading additions he had incorporated into the base design were seamless. As if the original rendering you had fallen in love with online had been elevated into a whole new artistic expression without losing its core essence.
"Shit...that's perfect!" You exhaled at last, tipping your chin up to meet Terushima's illuminated stare with a look of naked appreciation. "I swear you make this seem easy!"
Entirely without conscious volition, you reached out to squeeze Terushima's forearm in a gesture of gratitude and friendly affection. The fevered thrum of his pulse against your fingertips was startling, a visceral reminder of the living canvas you were complimenting. When he flashed you one of those signature toothy grins, nothing but authentic warmth and satisfaction radiating from his features, you very nearly pulled your hand back with equal haste -- worried its lingering presence might broadcast the wrong sort of impression.
But then the moment passed as swiftly as it arose. With a subtle throat clearing, Terushima gave a slight nod and moved to finish setting up his workstation. He tossed over one lean shoulder as he moved with easy grace to prep his tattoo gun. "Should be a real nice tie-in with that upper flourish you already have going by the time we're done inking today..."
The next stretch of time passed in a sort of serene, creative fugue as the familiar buzzing of the tattoo gun filled the small studio space. Terushima was all intense focus and quiet competence once more as he went to work etching the permanent design into your proffered skin. You found yourself mesmerized watching the ink take shape beneath his deft hands -- an appreciation of art unlike any other as he coaxed your body into becoming the living canvas.
Of course, it was difficult not to grow steadily more attuned to Terushima's nearness as the minutes ticked by in heated silence. The man was all lean, honed muscle and clean, sharp lines where you lay soft and pliable beneath his careful attention. At one point you found your gaze tracing the corded sinew in his biceps as they flexed and released with each pass of the tattoo gun. Following the darkly appealing trail of inked patterns swirling up towards the solid juncture of his shoulders and--
You bit back a tiny groan of frustration, realizing you were once again allowing your thoughts to drift in an extremely inappropriate direction. Squeezing your eyes shut, you concentrated on the rasping buzz of the needle caressing your skin rather than let your heightened awareness of Terushima's body linger any longer.
Except...even that was a mistake.
The suddenly sharpened awareness of every subtle scrape and tingling kiss of sensation across your overly sensitized skin made you acutely conscious of where, exactly, the current canvas was being shaped on your body. Terushima was leaning over your inner arm, bent at an intense angle as he filled in the gracefully arcing lines spanning from wrist to elbow joint.
The position placed his face scant inches from the slight swell of your breast as he worked -- near enough that you could actually feel the lightest whispers of his exhales ghosting across the thin cotton covering your chest. Your nipples tightened despite yourself, shocking sparks of arousal lancing straight to your core at the proximity.
Desperately you tried to think unsexy thoughts. Rotted vegetation, unpaid bills, awkward family gatherings...but nothing could dampen the traitorous flush of heat steadily creeping across your nerve endings. Particularly not when Terushima shifted his weight closer to get better traction, practically looming over your upper torso at this point with one knee braced alongside your hip.
The male fibrous notes of his earthy body wash saturated the static-laced air blanketing you both. You breathed in deep, stunned at how quickly the atmosphere in the small studio had taken on such thick, charged undercurrents despite Terushima's complete immersion in his artistry. Each subtle inhalation brought a dizzying new swirl of his natural, masculine scent lacing through your senses...until you felt drugged and heavy-lidded simply from the resonant vibrations of his presence so intimately invading your aura.
Sensation after molten sensation lapped at your subconscious like so many retreating tides. Until at last, you couldn't ignore the heated tide pool gathering at your body's core any longer.
The pointed awareness of your insistent arousal made the heavy air around you both feel thick and charged as ionized smoke. You found your gaze drifting helplessly to the sharp vee of Terushima's sculpted collarbones peeking above the open collar of his shirt. Followed the lean cords of his sinewy throat working in subtle rhythm as he remained focused on his artistry flowing across your skin.
When your heated stare lingered on the captivating sight of his silver tongue piercing dashing across his full lower lip in an subconscious display of concentration, a tremulous sigh escaped your parted mouth. The soft exhalation seemed to reverberate in the tense silence surrounding you both, finally shattering whatever tranquil spell had fallen over the studio.
Terushima went still as death, piercing tawny gaze flickering up to find yours -- pupils already blown wide with unveiled desire. You watched with breathless anticipation as he slowly, deliberately dragged the tip of that tantalizingly studded tongue across his lips once more, maintaining searing eye contact all the while.
"Getting a little hot under the collar there?" he rasped after a protracted, loaded moment. His voice was a sandpaper rasp of pure provocation, sending an involuntary shudder cascading through you.
Despite the heated evidence of your body's pronounced interest in your current intimate position, you managed a shaky semblance of your usual unaffected bravado. "What can I say? All these glimpses of your 'artistry' on display have me...appreciating your full skillset," you husked in return, allowing your eyes to drag a deliberate path down the lean, tattooed canvas of his torso in a shameless ogle.
"Pretty sure that kind of appreciation is gonna cost extra though," Terushima growled in response -- low and full of sensual promise. Before you could formulate a rejoinder, he closed the scant distance between you with one smooth, predatory slide of his weight until you were essentially caged between the hard planes of his body and the unforgiving surface beneath.
Your breath caught in your throat as he braced one forearm alongside your ribcage, effectively trapping you while simultaneously allowing you an unobstructed view of every delicious inch of coiled muscle and colorful ink now on display. The heavy musk of him surrounded you utterly, drenching your senses in potent masculinity until your mouth practically watered from proximity alone.
"I distinctly remember someone being warned about behaving during our sessions," Terushima growled against the shell of your ear, lips brushing fire across your sensitized skin until you shuddered violently. "We might need to have a conversation about adding rush fees to your tab...if you keep squirming around while I'm workin' my magic like this..."
The suggestive undercurrent of meaning laced through every word had your core clenching with thrumming desire. You couldn't bite back the shameless whine that spilled free as the delicious heat of Terushima's body seared through your thin layers, pressing against you with tantalizing friction. Blindly, you reached out to anchor yourself by fisting a hand at the nape of his neck -- relishing the silken slide of short hair around your fingers as you tugged impatiently.
"Maybe I want to misbehave," you whispered without a hint of compunction, already shifting restlessly against the unyielding planes pinning you down. "I'm definitely craving some...overtime benefits to go along with your services."
Terushima let out a dark chuckle of sheer sin against your tingling pulse point. The wet heat of his tongue swept across the same electrified path a split-second later, sending lightning jolts of blistering arousal ricocheting down your nerve endings. You cried out in shameless bliss as his wicked mouth latched onto the sensitive juncture, suckling ardently while one broad palm palmed your ribs before skating sinuously lower...
As his calloused fingertips finally drifted beneath the hem of your shirt to brand searing paths across exposed skin, Terushima broke away with heated labored breaths. You watched him chase the mesmerizing glint of his tongue piercing with a lust-darkened stare, utterly entranced by the lurid promise blazing from every chiseled inch of his features.
"Better be sure you can handle this particular bit of artistry sweetheart," he growled at last, the gravelly burr sending fresh sparks of liquid heat pooling at your apex. "I have a feeling my...techniques are about to get pretty fucking intense before we're through..."
With that salacious warning, Terushima bent his shoulders and descended upon your parted lips in a searing kiss of pure possession. Your mouth welcomed the sensual invasion with a broken cry, arching eagerly to deepen the molten exchange.
The kiss was all tongue and teeth and white-hot desperation -- a tangle of need and lust and sheer intoxicating chemistry. Every slide of his talented tongue stud against the sensitive roof of your mouth sent another gush of molten arousal spilling between your thighs, until you were a writhing, pleading mess of raw sensuality beneath his expert touch.
All the while, Terushima kept up his deft assault on the hyper-sensitive nerves dotting your midsection -- skirting the outer edges of your needy sex but never quite making full contact. Each teasing pass only stoked the inferno roiling within your core until you were nearly ready to beg for more.
At last, when the searing heat at your core had become a raging conflagration, Terushima finally dragged his palm upward. The slow, torturous slide across feverish flesh had you keening into his kiss, desperate for the promise of more. Then his clever fingers were tracing the lace banding your ribcage before finally, blissfully sliding the material upwards and over your breasts.
A throaty growl escaped the artist's mouth as his hands cupped your naked flesh, kneading the tender peaks until you were nearly delirious with want. Breaking the kiss with a ragged curse, Terushima's tawny gaze dropped to rake an unabashedly hungry perusal of the bounty on display.
"Fuck me...you're goddamn perfection," he muttered under his breath, thumbing across the puckered peaks until you shuddered with renewed pleasure. Then he was bending to swirl his tongue around one nipple, drawing it deep into the scalding heat of his mouth to suckle mercilessly.
You writhed and sobbed against the delicious onslaught, hips bucking in restless, frantic search for the friction you needed most. Terushima took the movement as his cue to redouble his efforts, laving attention on first one nipple then the other. His wicked tongue stud grazed each sensitive bud with the most delicious pressure, leaving a wet, cooling trail of saliva in its wake that only served to heighten the throbbing ache between your legs.
By the time Terushima slid a calloused palm beneath the waistband of your jeans, you were already a dripping mess of desperate need. He didn't disappoint -- fingers finding your molten core with practiced ease. The artist hummed his appreciation against your collarbone as he traced your soaked slit, gathering the evidence of your arousal on dexterous digits.
"Jesus fucking Christ, look at this sweet cunt just begging for my cock," he groaned, nipping sharply at the underside of your jaw before laving the sting with his tongue. "And all mine...just gotta show you a bit more of my craftsmanship before I really get my fill, yeah?"
"Fuck...fuck...please," you whined, barely aware of the words spilling from your mouth as you writhed mindlessly beneath his relentless, expert touch. The blunt pads of Terushima's fingertips continued to circle your aching clit, alternating featherlight caresses with punishing strokes -- never giving you the leverage you needed to chase the impending release fluttering at the edge of your consciousness.
You were a mess of sensual desperation by the time he finally, mercifully slipped a finger inside your throbbing channel. His name was a breathy chant falling from your lips, a prayer for deliverance from the exquisite torment. Then, just as you felt your climax cresting -- a second finger plunged into the tight, slick sheath.
The sudden, delicious stretch was a shock to your system, forcing a startled gasp from your throat. Before you could catch your breath, Terushima was thrusting those thick, calloused digits with a rough, driving rhythm that had you sobbing and arching from the blinding sensations.
"That's it, give me what I need," he rasped against the shell of your ear. The guttural rasp was so full of pure masculine dominance and primal ownership that it nearly tipped you over the edge. But still, he kept his fingers just shy of hitting the right angle -- holding you right on the precipice until you were a wreck of incoherent babbling and shameless pleas for release.
Then, with one final twist and curl, the dam finally shattered. A scream ripped from your lungs as a wave of blinding ecstasy washed through you. Your core clenched violently around the invading digits, riding each crashing wave as Terushima worked you through the orgasm.
"So fucking beautiful...you have no idea how many times I've fantasized about this," he was saying, the words muffled against your sweat-dampened temple. "You coming undone around my fingers, so hot and wet and eager. Fuck, you're gonna feel so perfect around my cock. Just you wait..."
Terushima didn't stop pumping his fingers through the aftershocks, nor the filthy words dripping from his sinful mouth. Instead, he seemed to sense exactly how close you were to another crest and doubled down -- sliding a third finger into the pulsating grip of your channel. The sudden pressure was overwhelming, almost painful.
It was too much. Not enough. You were flying apart at the seams.
You were barely aware of the keening wail that accompanied the second crest -- a violent crescendo of sensations that left you gasping and limp against the padded chair. By the time your vision cleared, Terushima had pulled away to admire his handiwork. His fingers glistened with your release, and his pupils were blown wide with unmistakable hunger.
"I don't think I'm ever gonna get tired of seeing that look," he breathed after a protracted moment, voice raw with need. "Fuck, it's gonna be hard to walk out of this room right now. Pretty sure that was the hottest shit I've ever seen."
You couldn't find the words to respond, instead simply watching with glassy eyes as he dragged his soaked digits across his lower lip. When the tip of his pierced tongue darted out to lick the wetness clean, the blatant carnality of the gesture had another tremor racing through your limbs.
Terushima seemed to realize just how much he was affecting you -- if the sudden flash of pure lust across his chiseled features was any indication. As his eyes darkened impossibly further, his mouth quirked up into a devilish smirk.
"Y'know, there is something else we could do...to really put those creative juices of mine to work." The tone was a sinful rasp, dripping with sensual promise and wicked intent. It took a moment for the implication to sink in, but then your brain was short-circuiting again with a flood of white-hot arousal.
"You can't be serious," you managed in a broken whisper, unable to tear your gaze from the lewd picture his lips painted. "There's no way that will even fit."
Terushima just shrugged, the motion full of fluid grace as he rose smoothly to his feet. "Worth a shot," he rasped. "And who knows, maybe all the extra lubrication from those two orgasms you just gave me will make it easier..."
You swallowed hard, eyes flitting helplessly towards the very obvious tenting in the front of his pants. As if reading your mind, he made quick work of the zipper and shucked the garment entirely -- standing gloriously naked before you in all his chiseled, inked glory.
"Holy shit..." was all you could manage at the sight of him.
His erection was truly a work of art, in all the best possible ways. Thick and heavy, it curved upward with a slight upward tilt -- the tip already flushed an angry red and glistening with pre-cum. It looked impossibly large from your vantage point, though Terushima was already reaching down to fist the base with a lazy pump.
"Well? You wanna give it a try, or am I gonna have to take care of things myself?" The words were a playful rasp, laced with filthy insinuation and a challenge for you to rise to.
You felt the last vestiges of hesitation crumble away beneath the weight of your desire, giving way to the raw, primal urges screaming at you to throw yourself into Terushima's waiting embrace. In the blink of an eye, you were rising to your feet, stripping away the remaining clothing in a haphazard pile and stepping boldly forward to close the distance between you.
When his lean, tattooed torso collided with yours, the feeling was pure euphoria. Your mouths came together in a messy, passionate clash of tongues and teeth and desperation. Terushima's hands were everywhere, sliding over every curve and dip of your naked form like a man possessed.
Your own eager touch was no less frantic. You were consumed by the need to taste every inch of him, to feel the firm planes of his body pressed against you with delicious friction. As the heated slide of your skin against his became more frenzied, a litany of curses tumbled from Terushima's mouth -- a low, sensual stream of praise that had you nearly sobbing with need.
"You're gonna fuckin' kill me, but I have to have you. Now," he growled against the shell of your ear, punctuating the statement by fisting a hand in your hair and tugging hard. "Been dying to have you ride my cock, just like this. Need to feel this tight little cunt squeezing the cum out of me."
Before you could fully process the filthy declaration, you were being lifted off the ground. Then your back hit the padded recliner with a jarring impact that made you squeak in surprise. In a heartbeat, Terushima was bracketing your hips with his thighs and bracing both palms on either side of your head -- caging you in with the intoxicating heat of his body.
You whimpered at the heady sensation of him sliding his thick length between your legs, coating himself in your wetness. Then he was lining up at your entrance and pushing inside in a slow, relentless glide that had you arching and sobbing with the delicious pressure.
Terushima's head hung heavy above yours, jaw clenched tight and sweat-dampened strands of blonde hair sticking to his forehead. The corded muscles of his shoulders and neck stood out in sharp relief as he fought for control.
"Fuck me...so goddamn perfect, sweetheart. Gonna ruin me for any other pussy," he ground out. The gravelly rasp sent a fresh gush of liquid arousal spilling around his thick shaft. "Can't wait to feel you cumming all over my cock, milking me dry while I paint that pretty little cunt."
All you could do was whine incoherently in response, the sensation of being so perfectly stretched and full of him making it impossible to form words. It felt like you were being torn apart in the most glorious way possible, the sweetest ache throbbing between your thighs.
When Terushima finally started to move, you thought you might fly apart from the intensity. He pulled out slowly before slamming home in a powerful thrust that had you crying out and clawing at his shoulders. Each successive movement was more forceful than the last, the tempo building into a brutal rhythm that left you breathless and reeling.
Your entire world shrank down to the single point of contact where your bodies moved as one. Terushima was growling unintelligible filth in your ear, telling you how perfect and tight and wet you were, how he couldn't wait to see you come all over his cock. The filthy words stoked the flames of your pleasure, the mounting pressure reaching an impossible pitch.
Just when you thought you couldn't possibly take anymore, Terushima reached down between your sweat-slickened bodies and found your swollen clit. His expert touch was like an electrical current, sending bolts of sizzling pleasure ricocheting through every nerve ending. You felt the dam inside you breaking, the release coming in a violent torrent that had you screaming his name and shaking beneath him.
Terushima was right behind you, groaning and grinding his pelvis against yours as his cock twitched and pulsed. Then he was cumming inside you in thick, hot spurts. His lips were on yours, devouring you in a kiss full of pure primal passion and need. You clung to him with a ferocity that should have alarmed you, but it was impossible to care.
"Fuuuuck...you are everything I dreamed and more," Terushima rasped against the sweat-slicked column of your throat. The words were barely coherent, but they sent a thrill of pleasure and satisfaction rushing through your veins. "
You hummed in agreement, relishing the warm, heavy weight of his body on top of yours. After a moment, he stirred and pressed a lazy, lingering kiss against your mouth.
"Y'know, we still got time before our next appointment...and I'm sure as hell not finished with you yet," he murmured. There was an undercurrent of suggestion in the graveled tone, and the implication was enough to have your core clenching around him.
"Better not be," you shot back, nipping at his bottom lip. "Because we're definitely adding rush fees to that tab."
"Mmmm...you're gonna pay in the best way possible, baby. Trust me."
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the-californicationist · 11 months ago
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they help you practice
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Team 141/Reader - Gangbang TW: explicit consent given, polyamory, vaginal sex, anal sex, face-fucking, double penetration, spitting, come as lube, bulging, Ghoap sex, bukkake, degradation, orgasm control. Let me know if I missed one, I'm sorry. Proceed with caution, please.
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You let yourself into his office, shutting the door behind you, and stood before him at a sharp parade rest, waiting to be informed about your fate. 
“Sergeant, thank you for coming. There is no need for formalities. This is just a chat.”
You moved to a more relaxed rest and nodded. 
Price continued,
“This is going to be quite the ask. Would you be willing to perform duties which are…outside of your current scope?”
“Yes, sir,” you responded just as you should have, as you were trained to, but Price was hoping you would understand exactly what you would be getting yourself into. 
“I need you to go undercover to a Konni restaurant cover in Minsk…as bait. Am I making myself clear?”
A pause. But, to your credit, you didn’t flinch. You did raise an eyebrow and ask a clarifying query,
“What kind of bait, sir?”
“Our next target, Dimitri Sokolov, will be at the Black Pearl bar in Minsk tomorrow, and we won’t get a better chance to lure him away from his bodyguards. He almost never makes public appearances, so he must be making an exception. Sokolov has,” he paused for a moment, trying to find the words, making general, suggestive motions over his own chest, “particular tastes in his women. You just so happen to have the right profile for the job. Again, this is not an order, Sergeant. I need to know if you’re willing to accept.”
“Yes, sir,” you tried to appear fully in control. You knew your breasts were large, but you had never been asked to use them as a weapon. There was a first time for everything, you supposed. You would do anything to help the team.
The captain loved your composure. He knew you would be perfect for the job. 
“Good. Let's brief the team.”
Price walked with you down to the meeting room at the end of the hall and found Soap, Ghost, and Gaz sitting in the desk chairs every way except the way they were designed, lounging over the furniture like big cats, melting into the various surfaces they encountered. They fixed themselves when the captain walked in. 
“Gentlemen,” Price opened, “this is our bait. Her code name is Rabbit. Rabbit, this is Soap, Ghost, and Gaz.”
You nodded politely and resumed a semi-formal rest position. 
The men had noticed you around the base but hadn’t been formally introduced. You were a desk rider, but still, you were hard to miss. The baggy military clothing had almost managed to conceal a bounty of soft curves, but your lush body persisted beneath it, and the outlines of your feminine form made heinous suggestions in the fabric. Unfortunately for them, you didn’t hang around the gym or the common area enough for them to have generated a fully accurate image of your enticing body, but they were certain it was delicious. They watched you like peckish wolves. Waiting hungrily, shifting in their seats in anticipation. For what, you weren’t sure.
“Rabbit is going undercover for us to take down Sokolov, Vladimir Makarov’s new shipping controller. He has a particular penchant for,” Price paused just long enough for anyone to understand his true meaning, “certain types of women. Rabbit fits the mold, so all she needs is the gear and the training.”
Price cut open three large cardboard boxes to reveal slinky dresses and a number of questionable garments. 
“I’ll need to try them on,” you offered, “Do you want me to get changed, Captain?”
“Sounds good. Come back in when you’re all set,” he smiled, enjoying the view as you left the room. 
Ghost crossed his arms, clearly with quite a mouthful to share and but refusing to. Gaz stared down at the knife he was playing with, bashful. But Soap would not be cowed, and as soon as you left, he said,
“Feeding her to the sharks like bait, Captain? I dinnae ken any of us was so expendable.”
“Soap,” Price warned, “the sergeant is more than capable of handling -”
“I wasnae askin’ about the lassie’s capabilities. Send her in to slit his throat with a knife in her hand, for all I care. But to send her in unguarded, unarmed? No. It’s not right,” Soap crossed his arms. 
“He’s got a point, Captain. Why take the risk of losing an operative?” Ghost spoke coldly. 
Price furrowed his brow at their short-sightedness,
“And do what, exactly? Have the Russians scurry back underground at the first hint of an assassination attempt? We’ve failed that mission three times, boys. I’ll not have this go south again.”
“I’m sure she is capable, Captain. But, is Rabbit committed to this plan?” Gaz asked. 
“Sure,” Price tried to sound reassuring, “we spoke in my office. She agreed to come down here. Besides, she’ll have you three as backup. You won’t let anything happen to her.”
Gaz did not seem convinced. All three soldiers wore a scowl on their faces, and even though Ghost’s was obscured by his mask, his body language communicated his displeasure. Price carefully ashed his cigar to renew the glowing tip, taking a long drag while they waited for you to return. 
You were back without too much of a delay, but when you walked in, your colleagues were visibly stunned. They didn’t recognize you at first. A short black dress had replaced your camouflage fatigues, showing off miles and miles of smooth, shining skin. Your thick thighs stretched the silky fabric, and your ass threatened to escape from the edge of the dress with every step you took. Your new heels clacked sharply against the cold concrete, making your legs flex and tense, showing off your well-formed musculature. You did not miss squat day very often, apparently.
But, the assets you were trying to use for this particular mission were the real stars of the show. Your heavy breasts battled against the low dip of the dress, providing a deep display of cleavage, hinting at pink perky nipples hidden just below the line of the black silk. Your tits jiggled as you struck the floor with each careful step, making the room full of men breathe a little heavier at the sight. 
Soap’s big mouth betrayed them all,
“Christ in Heaven. There you are, bonnie.”
Ghost backhanded him hard on the shoulder. Price glowered.
You had put on a little more makeup than might be socially acceptable in an office setting, making the suggestive outfit complete. Finally, as you stood at the head of the meeting table, you took out your task force regulation braid and pulled your fingers through your hair, breaking up your long waves as they spilled down your neck and back. 
You smiled,
“Well, do I look the part?”
Price coughed, inhaling too much smoke on accident. Gaz hadn’t moved since you walked in the room. He just stood there, dumbfounded, arms held at an odd angle as if frozen in time. Ghost cleared his throat to save them,
“Yes, Rabbit. You clean up very nicely, don’t you?”
“Well,” you sighed, “this is sort of the raunchiest outfit I found in the box. I was going to go with something a bit more casual, but I thought I’d better be noticeable if we’re going to nail this asshole.”
Gaz finally came out of his locked state, aghast,
“Noticeable? Sweetheart, this is more than noticeable. Goddamn.”
“You think it’s too much? I don’t really know what would get his attention,” you shrugged, looking shy as you confessed, “I don’t get asked out very often.”
“You could go out with me, lassie,” Soap edged his way closer to her, slinking around the table, “We’d have a hell of a time, so we would.”
“Don’t listen to Johnny,” Ghost stood in front of him a bit, snaking an arm around your cinched waist, “He thinks takin’ his birds to the dog races is a good date idea.”
“Well, isn’t it?” Soap protested.
Gaz grabbed your hand tenderly, examining your fingers like they were a precious work of art,
“Maybe you could come with me to Berlin next weekend, babes. There’s a killer music festival going on, and we could have a really good time. How does that sound?”
“Boys,” Price interrupted, “I’m sure she has plenty of work to finish here; can’t just be galavanting off with you muppets. In fact, why don’t you stop by my office after this mission, bunny rabbit, and we can work on your projected shipment dates together? You know, I used to be a logistics man, myself.”
Ghost rolled his eyes at the Captain,
“Please, logistics? You drove a truck back and forth on base delivering food to the canteen twenty years ago. I’ve read your file.”
The men all started talking over each other, forgetting your presence in favor of coming out on top of the dog pile. You smiled to yourself, eager to push more of their buttons. 
Slipping one skinny strap down your shoulder, you spoke through the din,
“You know, this dress can be strapless. Do you think Sokolov wants it up…” you locked eyes with Captain Price, seeing his throat swallow hard as he watched you in the silence you had created, “...or down?”
The other soldiers were stunned, unable to look away as you slipped both straps off of your shoulders and tucked them into your dress. One strap was still partially visible, and Ghost slowly moved one gloved finger up your arm, tracing your skin lightly, and finished tucking it in for you. He lingered, caressing the side of your breast as he removed it. 
“You gonna be able to seduce this Russian bastard, Sergeant? Or, do you need some practice?” Price asked with a low, threatening tone. 
The whole room held its breath waiting for your answer. The four men towered over your short frame, casting shadows over you like black spells, hoping you would relinquish your control over them. All of their eyes watched as you slowly, achingly lifted a hand and traced it up Gaz’s canvas pant leg, stopping when you discovered the heavy head of his cock, hardening down toward his knee. With the back of your hand, you pet it like a skittish animal, reveling in its smoothness and warmth. Your eyes found his as they fluttered, blood rushing through his body in a panic,
“I think I could use some practice, Captain.”
You felt Gaz’s rod leap at your answer. He bent down to kiss your mouth, slanting his lips fiercely against you. 
Soap came up behind you, gripping your ass through the silk of your dress roughly,
“We’ll help you, lass. We’ll help you practice, won’t we, boys? Jesus, you smell so good,” he buried his face in your neck and sucked against your skin. 
Ghost found your other hand and held it tightly, using it to steady you from Soap and Gaz’s assault. Price moved Gaz out of the way, earning himself a glare, and peeled the dress off of you in one fell swoop, revealing the expanse of uncovered skin underneath. 
“Holy shite,” the captain breathed, whispering his lament, “Sergeant, where are your knickers?”
“I guess I forgot them, Captain,” you blushed, batting your eyes up at him, doing actual damage to his psyche.  
He didn’t have much time to savor the moment though because Ghost was shoving him out of the way to pick you up by the thighs to lay you on the table. The giant knelt between your legs, pulling you by the knees until your ass was hanging off of the low wooden planks. He lifted his mask just enough for you to see him lick his lips over sharp, white teeth before feasting on your wet folds, letting the cloth of the balaclava hide most of his efforts. 
Ghost created a soothing, yet electrically wet warmth in your core which made you keen loudly, only to be muffled by Price’s smoky kiss. You could taste the burned tobacco on his tongue and your skin was scraped by his thick mustache. 
Gaz’s voice got your attention. He had freed his cock from his pants and started to stroke it, standing by your side and playing with your breasts with his free hand as Price savaged your mouth. He tugged on your nipple and told you,
“You know, Rabbit, you’re going to have to really put yourself out there tomorrow. Show him these gorgeous tits of yours. Make him think you’re hungry for his cock,” Gaz rubbed his head, hard and hungry for you, “Can you do that? Let us see how good you can be, princess. We need you to ace this mission”
You felt Ghost dip his hard cock between your pussy lips, distracting you from Price’s tongue in your mouth. You broke the kiss and looked up at Ghost, dazed, into his masked face,
“I promise, sir. I’ll be good,” you looked around at all four of the men, reaching out to grab Soap’s cock that he was stroking for you, “Will you show me how?”
You didn’t give Soap time to answer. The Scot gasped as you devoured him, sucking him down into your throat, making yourself gag as he fucked your throat in and out in long thrusts. He tangled his fingers in your hair. Ghost matched his rhythm below you, pounding his cock into your wet hole. You thought you could feel something on his dick. Was he pierced? You could see your slick gleam on his lips and chin where his mask was still askew. 
“Yeah,” Ghost smiled haughtily, “you like those piercings, don’tcha baby?”
You didn’t have a chance to respond. Price pulled your head away from Soap’s dick, kissing your mouth lewdly again before giving you an order,
“Open your mouth wide for me, love.”
You obeyed. Then, he spit onto your tongue, warm and bubbling, before shoving your face down onto his own fat rod. It made your lips burn with its cruel girth, even though it felt relatively soft, and you thought fleetingly that there was no way your poor little cunt was going to be able to take him, Ghost was big enough to be filling, but the captain was carrying around a true weapon. 
He pulled your head off of him roughly, watching as the strings of drool connected your tongue to his cockhead, growling in short, lustful breaths. 
“Alright, boys. Make sure she’s good and ready for me. You know the drill,” Price barked, and then he was gone. 
The drill? You looked for him, confused, and only found Gaz, who was now slapping his long dick on your cheek, knocking for entrance. He let you take his head into your mouth, having a much easier time than you did with your captain. You bobbed your head up and down dutifully, not realizing just how long his cock was until he tried to force it into your throat. He held you down for a moment, moaning shamelessly, before releasing you to let you breathe. 
“You alright, babes?” He laughed.
You nodded, moaning. Ghost took himself out of your wetness and pulled you off of the table. Soap hopped up to lay where you were, and you moved to ride him, making sure to get right to the edge with him to let Ghost back in. You’d never taken two men at once, much less four, but there was a first time for anything, and you were a quick learner. 
Spearing yourself onto Soap felt like someone had created a warm, custom, living dildo just for you. He was a perfect fit, and you both cried out in pleasure from the sensation. Ghost slapped your ass, hard, and you screamed, clenching around Soap’s cock. Soap moaned darkly. 
“Keep suckin’ that big cock, baby. Need to teach you how to multitask,” Ghost threatened as he bent to eat your asshole, wiggling his tongue into the tight rim to gain entrance.
He started to fuck you with it, his long wet muscle moving in and out as Soap thrust himself up into you, hitting your g-spot every single time like magic. You took Gaz back into your mouth and tried your best to take him deeper into your throat. Every time you did, you would gag, and your muscles would involuntarily clench, and the whole room would moan. You started to come, feeling yourself flood around Soap, whose mouth had latched onto one of your nipples, suckling like he was trying to feed from you. 
You could see Price out of the corner of your eye. He had lit another cigar and was smoking it, stroking himself, still not at his full capacity. You were scared of him. He looked like some sort of demon, breathing fire, and his cock was as big around as your forearm. He wasn’t as long as Gaz, nor as delightfully curved as Soap, but he made your legs shake without even touching you. When he did touch you, rising from his chair when he wanted to fondle you, pinching a nipple, pulling your hair, forcing your head down on Gaz, it lit you up like you were kerosene and he was the match. 
Suddenly, Ghost’s tongue was gone, only to be replaced by his heavy head. He was going to fuck your ass, and there was nothing you could say to stop him. You’d only done anal once or twice before, and you knew it might hurt. He went so slowly that you could feel each and every piercing as he popped them into you, one by one. Then, as he pulled back out, you felt them pop as each one went through you again, raking himself in and out gently, as careful with you as he could be. When you were more pliant, he began to throw his weight into each thrust, and Soap started to groan below you from the sensation. 
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare, Johnny boy,” Price threatened, his voice full of stern warning. 
You weren’t sure what he was warning him about until Soap pulled his cock out of you and came all over your stomach, Ghost’s thrusts making the fluid smear between you two, rubbing your bodies together. Ghost pulled out next, and you felt his hot, thick ropes spray onto your ass cheeks, melting down your thighs. 
Gaz abandoned your mouth and took over for Soap, feeding himself inch by inch until he found your end, leaving some of his cock out in the cold. He fucked you faster than the others, not caring to move out of the way as Soap rolled off of the table, whining like a whore the whole time. 
Captain Price came around to your face, holding your chin in his hand, looking down at you without pity,
“Garrick’s got a long cock, don’t he, love? You’re being so good for my men, such a good girl. Sweet little slag, hm? You’re going to do so well on this mission. Those areholes won’t know what hit ‘em.”
He grabbed your hair fiercely, hurting your scalp, forcing you to turn and look back at Gaz. Price took a long puff from his cigar, blowing it past your face, 
“Baby, he could fuck you for a hundred years. He’s not gonna come until you scream his name.”
You heard Gaz moan louder at Price’s suggestion, so you did. You screamed for him over and over, not caring who might have heard you, begging for him to come in you. 
“He’s not allowed to come inside of you yet, love,” Price kissed your open panting mouth, “But, don’t worry. It’s about to be my turn, and you’ll be feeling my fuckin’ come drip out of your cunt all night long.”
Price’s voice made your blood run cold with fear. He wasn’t making threats. Those were clearly promises. Predictions of the future. His cock was tucked back into the band of his pants, but it lay in wait there like a serpent, eager to strike.
Your heart pounded in your chest as Gaz pulled his long shaft all the way out of you, his come shooting onto your lips and ass, feeling him use his hand to rub it into your skin, making you sticky. Your captain gave him a warning look, and you realized they had done this sort of thing before. Perhaps many times before. As you watched Soap and Ghost comfort each other, breathing close together, touching themselves, you wondered if they ever fucked each other as well. Picturing the four of them rutting into each other made you hungry, deep in your belly, starving to witness such an act. 
Finally, it was your captain’s turn. The look in his eyes made you tremble. You knew he wouldn’t be cruel, not on purpose anyway. He wasn’t a heartless man, but he wasn’t one to hold himself back from what he wanted either. You knew that he would fuck you the way he wanted to, as hard as he wanted to, no matter how much complaining you might do about how his cock would stretch you out - even to the point of pain. 
“On your back, love. Legs up. Spread that pussy open for me,” he commanded. 
You did as he told you, opening yourself up shamelessly, letting your folds spread wide. 
He walked around the table to gaze upon your form, staring at your pink flesh like it was a hot meal, and he was starving. He moaned, rubbing his hand across your sticky mons, 
“Mm, that’s my pretty little Rabbit. Now…” he paused for effect, sinking three fingers into your hole roughly but ever so slowly, twisting his arm as he did, corkscrewing his knuckles into you, “...I want you to understand that there’s a reason I’m last in line, love.”
You cried out from the pressure of his huge hand. It felt like you were going to tear. Then, after a few hard thrusts, he released you. The emptiness you felt was heartbreaking. You looked for him, pleading with your eyes for him to return to you. He pulled his cock free from his waistband, unable to connect his finger to his thumb as he wrapped around it. You whined involuntarily, something animal in you recognizing its fate. 
“Shh, baby, I know,” he drug out his voice, “I know…”
He positioned the heavy shaft on top of your body, measuring himself from base to tip, reaching your navel. As he slapped it against you, it made a loud thudding noise, slamming into your muscles like a fist. Price was so heavy. You’d never even imagined a man could feel like he was pure, warm, thick marble. Your pussy seemed to understand the panic you were feeling, flooding itself, preparing for the upcoming invasion. 
“I’m so fuckin’ eager for you, love,” he slapped you again, quick taps right to your swollen clit.
Then, he put his head inside of you, squeezing himself in. He left it inside of you and started to pump himself with his hand. Between the vibration from his fist and the fact that it felt like you were sitting on the end of a steel bat, you couldn’t hold back your keening, loud and high-pitched. 
Price began the steady, slow march forward, swelling harder and harder by the moment, making your walls feel like they might break. It seemed as if all the blood in your body was rushing down your belly and up your legs, hurrying to your core. 
Your eye were wild, full of your fear, tears forming at the corners of your eyes,
“I can’t, please! I can’t. It’s too big, fuck…”
Price didn’t stop. He just kept feeding himself in and pulling himself back out, wetting his cock’s skin with your soaking hole. 
“You can, and you will, love,” the captain growled, “Now, shut that pretty mouth and take it.”
Your cheeks were wet and your eyes burned, he was so deep within you that it felt like he was thrusting into your throat. You couldn’t breathe.
Suddenly, Soap grabbed your hand, kissing your palm, using his tongue to lick your skin,
“It’s alright, bonnie. I’m here. Breathe with me, lass.”
He bent down to kiss you, but he didn’t quite connect, letting his lips graze yours featherlight. Soap breathed in and breathed out in steady, measured beats. You felt yourself begin to relax. It had such an immediate effect that you heard Price groan, able to slip himself a bit deeper than he had done. 
It was like a chain reaction, the more relaxed you became, breathing with Soap, feeling him suck and lick your nipples softly, the more Price was able to squeeze himself in. 
Finally, you felt his hair at the base of his cock, thick and curled, and as he sighed, he settled inside of you, impossibly pressing against your whole body, making a clear outline of himself in your lower belly. He rubbed it, almost fondly, and you felt every inch of him throb against your walls, his head bullying your womb.
You cried out again from the strain. Ghost and Gaz joined Soap. Gaz began to suckle from your breast on your left side, fondling himself as he did so, getting hard again. Ghost was at your head on the end of the table, and he bent to kiss you, upside down, his tongue running all the way down your throat, long and slippery against your own. 
He pulled away, petting your cheek as Price began to grind himself into you,
“You alright, Rabbit? You enjoying your captain’s cock, hm?”
“Mm hm,” you whispered, whimpering through your tears.
Ghost smiled, and his straight, white teeth looked menacing as he did, sharp, wolf-like,
“I know you are, babe. You’re doing so well. Look at him. You can see him inside of your cunt.”
He lifted your head by your hair, showing you the grotesque shadow of Price’s heavy rod as it shoved itself into you. You reached your hands down to it, feeling it through your skin. It was so unique. His size wasn’t like anything you’d ever experienced, and your body was sending confused signals of passion, your orgasms coming in shattered, broken waves. Feeling incomplete. Too powerful, and yet drawn out like the last note of a symphony. 
As you touched him from the outside, Price moaned aloud for the first time. It shocked you. You looked up at him, managing to meet his eyes.
“Fuck,” you moaned, “You feel so good inside of me, Captain.”
“Mm, yeah?” He replied, using his hands to press yours down onto his cock, making you gasp, “You like it, baby? I’m gonna make sure you never want anybody else.” 
Price reached down and grabbed you by the throat, scaring away Soap and Gaz. He lifted you up, making his dick fit inside of you that much tighter with the change of angle. Then, he began the true performance. He thrust himself in with fast, punishing strokes, slamming himself into you. You were sure you would bruise, and you felt dizzy, almost like you’d pass out. 
Soap was at your side again, holding your hair away from your face,
“Look at you, lassie. Such a good girl for your captain. Takin’ that cock so damn well. Can’t wait to be back inside you, girl.”
He kissed your cheek, palm massaging his dick which was back to full mast, eager again. 
“Alright, Johnny,” Price grinned, “Since you asked so nicely.”
Without any strain whatsoever, Price lifted you up by your hips and held you in the air as he fucked you, bringing you around the table so that Soap could position himself at your asshole. Ghost’s earlier efforts had made it ready for him, and you could very acutely feel how much he was throbbing to be inside of you, pulsing as he fit against Price. 
“Ungh, fuck, lass,” Soap groaned as he began to thrust into you, pistoning with the captain, “He’s got you so tight for me.”
“Yeah? It feels so good. Mmm…” you whimpered, feeling more full than you’d ever been. 
Johnny was holding your breasts as Price lifted you up, brutalizing your pussy. Every thrust felt like an electric pulse, making you cock-drunk and mindlessly pliant. 
They worked in tandem for what felt like eons, pistoning in and out with each other. Eventually, after he had felt you come, Soap addressed his captain directly,
“Sir, I’m…please, sir, can I?”
“Can you what, soldier?” Price grunted through gritted teeth, testing his sergeant.
“Can I come, sir? Please, Cap…”
“Yeah, Johnny. C’mon, mate. Let her feel it.”
“F-fuck! Fuck…” Soap groaned, pushing himself flush against your asshole, pumping his come into you. 
He caught his breath while he was still in you, kissing the nape of your neck, and then he pulled away slowly. He helped Gaz replace him, holding your ass wide apart so his comrade could position himself inside. And just when you thought your poor pussy would have room to breathe, Gaz’s incredibly long shaft was piercing your hole again. 
You felt him sigh, his breath against your neck. He took over holding you up, and Price praised him,
“That’s it, Garrick. She’s all yours. Take it.”
Gaz reacted to his words in a way that made you rethink their entire dynamic. Then, you remembered how he had come when you said his name. He seemed to get harder and harder the more Price praised him, and you wanted to give him that same validation. 
“Gaz,” you whispered, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder, “It’s so big, baby. It’s like I can feel you in my throat. Oh, Gaz. Gaz!”
“Mm,” Price put his mouth to your neck, groaning, “That’s it, love. Tell him how much you like that long cock.”
“So much, Gaz. It’s so good,” you added. 
Then, Price took his left hand and wrapped it around the back of Gaz’s neck in a moment of surprising intimacy. As Price kissed the front of your throat, Gaz kissed your shoulder and nape. You felt like a peeled fruit being shared between them, a ripped rind, your juicy flesh being split in two; two halves of a ripe orange. 
Gaz lasted longer than Soap had when he fucked your ass, but Price’s attention seemed to spur him on. His movements were slippery, and you could feel the remnants of Soap’s come frothing around your entrance, easing his efforts.
“Captain,” Gaz whined, desperate for more of that approval. 
“C’mon, Kyle. She’s ready for you. Good lad.”
The use of his first name made Gaz thrust up into you with a feverish pace. He cried out as he came, hard, into you. Feeling him fall back out of you made you imagine the tendrils of a giant kraken, seeming to travel forever just to remove himself from your body, slithering out of you with a terrible squelching noise. 
Gaz let Price hold you again, and you turned, expecting Ghost. Price laughed at you, chuckling softly,
“Missing your masked man already?”
You looked at Price, feeling raw and used, waiting for an explanation,
“He’s a little…preoccupied.”
Price laid you back on the table, letting you turn your head to see Ghost, buried in Soap’s asshole up to the hilt, furiously jacking him off, slamming into him a little too roughly for your liking. It was violent, but Soap seemed to be enjoying himself beyond measure. 
Your pussy, though, disagreed with your assessment, clenching around Price’s cock while you watched Simon abuse his friend’s hole. 
“Mm,” the captain moaned, feeling your muscles react, “You like that, love? You wanna be fucked rough like that?”
He didn’t give you a chance to answer. Price wrapped your legs beneath his chest in a full mating press and wrecked you, pounding into your body like a giant fist. You felt your bones shudder beneath his behemoth form. Just when you thought you might puke from how overstimulated you were, you felt him pause. Then, your pussy felt like it was leaking, and it was. Price’s come just kept milking its way out of you, his cock pulsing inside, making your walls throb. 
When he finished, he kissed you on the mouth, almost lovingly, reverently. He started to slide out of you, being extremely careful, and you’d never felt so empty in your entire life. It was as if you’d never be full again. You found yourself whining, whimpering for Price to return. 
“That’s right, pretty girl,” Price smiled, “Never gonna want anybody else, are ya?”
You smiled, shocked and in considerable discomfort. Gaz scooped you up off of the table, cradling you, sitting down with you in his lap in a large chair. He reached down for some water and handed it to you, helping you recover. 
Price was standing with his hands on his hips, panting from his exertion. Ghost and Soap were connected like two hounds, locked together, the Scot cock warming his tall lover, groaning on every exhale. 
“Well, what do you think, lads? Do we have a winner?” Price asked.
“Yeah, we fucking do, Cap,” Gaz pet your head, moving your sweaty hair out of your eyes. 
“Fuck yeah, mate,” Ghost growled, pawing at Johnny again, rabid for him. 
“Hear that, bonnie?” Soap managed to ask, still moaning in little breaths as he was being speared by Ghost, “Got  yourself a new permanent assignment.”
Price walked over to you, grabbing you by the face and kissing you once more,
“You belong to us now, love. Perfect little slut.”
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niqhtlord01 · 8 months ago
Text
Humans are weird: Where Heroes Flew
When Florelia had gone to work today she had expected it to be a day like any other. She’d man her post in orbital control, direct cargo traffic from the spaceport on the surface of the planet to the orbital lanes in the upper atmosphere, and then head to her quarters for the night and binge some trans-system entertainment. She was hoping to catch some of the Dorgan Finals being played out on the surface. The matches had drawn in close to a billion offworlders to the event and was the largest gathering seen on Zenbara in decades.
She was just about to get up for her designated lunch break when she noticed something odd on her tracking monitor. One of the inbound ships was bypassing the waiting que for reentry and was attempting to skip ahead of the waiting ships for reentry.
Putting her headset back on, Florelia flipped through the communication channels until she had the channel for the marked ship.
“Inbound vessel DCN4, return to your position in que.” She transmitted.
No response.
“Inbound vessel DCN4, this is orbital control; return to your position in que immediately.”
Florelia wondered if the ships communicator was broken, but before she could call up an engineer to confirm the inbound vessel suddenly increased speed and began blowing past the que of waiting ships.
“DCN4 cut engines and respond immediately, this is your final warning.”
“You were given many warnings,” a strange voice came back, “and now we are the culmination of all your sins. We are the children of Nu’n and in his name we shall punish the nonbelievers and cleanse them from this universe.”
As the voice continued delivering their speech Florelia ran a scan of DCN4 to confirm its cargo. When the scan came back her eyes went wide and she slammed her fist into the panic button built into her console. Sirens began blaring as her supervisor came over as Florelia opened a direct line to orbital security.
“Security, apprehend ship DCN4 now!” Florelia shouted into her transmitter.
“What’s wrong?” her supervisor asked as he came up to her finally. Florelia turned to let him see her screen.
“I believe DCN4 is under the control of terrorist elements and is loaded with over 900 thousand tons of Genthi explosives.”
No sooner had the words left her mouth did her supervisor tap his com piece in his ear and shout, “Security move your asses now! Grab DCN4 and bring it to a halt.”
Entering in his command codes he then addressed the entire line of waiting ships still in que.
“Attention all vessels, evacuate the area immediately. Divert courses away from lane 71-93; repeat, all vessels evacuate the area immediately!”
Florelia watched on her scanner as the security ships left the station. She watched as they pushed their engines to the max to catch up to the rogue vessel but even at max speed they wouldn’t be able to catch it in time. Calculating the trajectory, the computer predicted that the terrorists were steering themselves directly towards the Dorgan Finals stadium on the planet below.
“Should we issue an evacuation for the stadium?” she asked her supervisor. To her surprise he shook his head.
“It wouldn’t matter. With that much explosives it’ll turn everything within a 500km radius into the world’s largest crater.”
Florelia couldn’t speak as the horror of the situation set in. The devastation about to unfold would be the worst terrorist attack in the known universe.
A sudden beep from her console made Florelia look back and see that while many of the other civilian vessels were scattering one ship had begun moving towards the terrorist ship.
“What in the niv’nar….”
Florelia brought up the information about the secondary contact and saw it was a human mining ship designated the “Jackdaw”.
“Orbital control to human vessel Jackdaw, what are you doing?” Florelia asked as she realigned the transmitter to communicate to the human ship. “You have been instructed to evacuate the area.”
“I thought about it,” A young cheerful voice came back over the radio, “but my pappy taught me that when a robber comes at you you don’t show them the door; you show them your arm.”
Not understanding what the human was talking about she looked up to see the live camera feeds being displayed on the main monitors. DCN4 was long and narrow, while the human Jackdaw was bulky and looked as if it had been welded together with scrap metal.
It looked as if the Jackdaw was going to block DCN4 but as soon as the cargo ship drew close the mining ship ignited its engines and lazily drifted above the cargo vessel as it blew by. As it passed underneath the mining ship Florelia watch as a dozen compartments opened up on the mining ship and grappling arms the size corvettes shot out and latched on to DCN4.
The arms soon went taut and the Jackdaw ignited its engines to full in a dazzlingly bright display of light.
Like a fisherman wrangling a mighty sea creature, the Jackdaw tried to pull the terrorist ship back into orbit and give the security ships a chance to disable the vessel before it could carry out its task. Every set of eyes in the control room was locked to the main monitor as the DCN4 engines burned brighter and the ship veered left and right to try and shake off the Jackdaw.
The security ships had almost made it to DCN4 when several of the grappling arms tore away chunks of DCN4’s hull. Each of the security ships swung to avoid the debris but were struck by the whiplash of the grappling arms and exploded in a cloud of burnt metal. To the horror of orbital control one of the grappling arms swung back and damaged a few of the Jackdaw’s engines as well.
With renewed fervor the terrorist ship began plunging once more into the atmosphere with the Jackdaw still holding on with what few grappling arms remained. Though it refused to let go of the terrorist ship, it was a struggle it could not win.
“Orbital control to Jackdaw, you’ve done everything you can; disengage and get out of there.” Florelia transmitted to the Jackdaw.
“Not everything,” came the reply over the radio, “I got one last trick up my sleeve.”  
Florelia was going to ask what they meant when the Jackdaw began retracting the grappling arms while they still held on to DCN4. Slowly the arms pulled the two vessels closer and closer together as new energy warning sirens started off.
“That crazy bastard’s going to make a jump.” Florelia heard her supervisor say in disbelief.
“Jackdaw, if you attempt to make a jump in orbit-“ Florelia began but the human captain cut her off.
“It’s the last trick I got to play lassie.” They said in their chipper tone.
“There’s no guarantee you’ll make it out of the jump intact.” She persisted. “No ship has ever withstood a jump while in a gravity well.”
“First time for everything I suppose.”
The two ships were nearly touching hulls as the Jackdaw’s jump drive neared full power.
“Why are you doing this? You don’t know this world or these people; why give your life for them?”
To her surprise the human captain laughed over the coms.
“When someone’s in trouble you don’t stop to ask for details, you just help them.”
With that the two ships hulls finally touched and the Jackdaw ignited its jump drive. For a moment both ships blurred in and out of the atmosphere as DCN4 desperately tried to free itself from the mining ship’s grasp.
In a final bright flash the two ships made the jump out of the atmosphere, leaving behind a trail of scrap metal that slowly burned away as it fell to the planet below. To the public below it looked as if a series of elaborate fireworks were going off to celebrate the day’s events while those in orbit held a silent vigil for the unknown human captain who had just saved billions of lives.
For all the barbarity the human race has been known for it was easy to forget that there were still those amongst their people who would lay down their lives for strangers without ever needing a word of thanks.  
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st-hedge · 6 months ago
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I said a while ago that for totk’s one anniversary I would write a weird little review of the game in which I throw roses at it while simultaneously slandering it. So I made an attempt which is very abbreviated
Disclaimer: I’m not telling u how u should feel about totk or what’s the right way to feel about it, I’m just trying to make sense of why the game frustrates me and putting it into words. It’s completely fine if u disagree with me, I’m not pitching an argument but just putting words on paper
Totk is one of the best games I’ve ever had the opportunity to play. The mechanics, the music, the designs, the revised world of hyrule, makes me want to curl up on the floor and cry. It is stunning and done with so much love. Where botw had lacked, totk has improved and gone above and beyond. It had frustrated me that botw only allowed us to explore the ground surface, but botw was an exploration into open world games which allowed for totk to happen. The caves, the boats, the islands, and the depths add so much to already such a vast world. I only wish there was also diving but beggars can’t be choosers beh
Although it still doesn’t make too much sense to me why all weapons are suddenly corrupted, I do love the new weapons system. I love how it gives more variety to explore. Materials which previously sat unused in the inventory are now key and nothing feels like a waste to collect. Even rupees have found another use. I’m not the biggest fan of the zonai devices but the addition feels like a love letter to the creativity of the fan base and it feels at place. They help to traverse an otherwise huge and intimidating world. But at times I feel like they give too much leverage and break down too many boundaries and leave little to solve and explore. What im basically saying is fuck the rockets.
I feel that totk doesn’t have enough progress boundaries that make u pause and explore what u have at hand. I found myself just pushing and pushing, forgetting and leaving behind areas I barely touched. It felt too easy getting into the sky and returning to the islands and they lost some of their mystery to me. I think this would have been a great opportunity to reintroduce the loftwings from skyward sword. I’ve talked before about how much this would make sense for totk. The loftwings could be a means to cross boundaries and explore new territories, but it takes time to catch and tame one as a companion. But like horses they should have their limits, presenting new boundaries u need to overcome again
Where the totk’s hyrule begins to confuse and disappoint me goes hand in hand with my main issue (confusion?) with the game. Although botw felt incomplete (the world was a little sparse and one dimensional), the story was comprehensive and clear. Meanwhile, totk has a complete and lively world but it doesn’t have a story to carry
Totk’s story doesn’t have an identity I can grasp and understand. It’s like it doesn’t know what it wants to tell the player, what story it wants to direct them to. On one hand, it seems to want us to know about the origins of hyrule and the mysterious landmarks and characters that are permanent fixtures in this world (castle, ruins, dragons) but at the same time it suddenly wants to do a retelling of OoT and about the sages and these secret stones. But the game never completes any of these stories. Maybe it wants to tell us these stories through the environment, but there is just not enough embedded into the world to grasp and tie together into a narrative. Which is ironic considering how big the world is
We begin to be told the story of the dragons, we suddenly understand how they came to be (the secret stones). But we are never told about the events of their creation (an act of desperation, like Zelda’s) and we are never close to understanding them. Then we are told about the sages, but meeting them tells us nothing new. No new cutscenes, no new items or lore directly related to them. The new sages are found, but didn’t we just discover the divine beasts with them? Suddenly another layer of importance is added to them which makes the ties between legacy and the current sages muddier. I wish there had been focus on them creating their own legacy instead
I think totk could’ve had a very interesting story to tell if it chose what it wants to focus on. Maybe the secret stones were introduced just as a way for Zelda to become a dragon? I dunno
There are so many new places that feel like fantastic opportunities for moments of pause and to uncover lore, unearth memories. But instead they’re brisk puzzles or empty sites. Like the graveyard underneath the desert, the forge islands, the factories, and the fucking poe statues. Tell me as much as u want that I can’t read environmental story telling, but I’ll just keep saying there’s nothing to read into cuz the game doesn’t know what it wants to say. There’s no thread to follow in the way there was with, for example, the graveyard at the spirit temple in OoT. We could’ve been just left with a strange well and a graveyard and told to figure it out, but a thread is laid down that these are the skeletons in the royal family’s closet.
Totk does have amazing moments, like Zelda meeting her ancestors and giving up her identity to become a living legend to revive the master sword, the discovery of the ancient temples, the story of the zonai and their origins. But these are just pieces with many loose ends around them that go nowhere. Even Ganon is left as a loose end where there was so much opportunity to say something worth saying. He seems comically evil with bogstandard bah I want to rule the world lines. If u want to make a case for evil for the sake of evil, u can at least show me a character repeatedly making horrible choices which lead them to the current predicament. Just like totk’s hyrule, he is lovingly designed but he tells absolutely no story
If the reason behind the lack of story is that the devs/writers wanted us to make our own story out of this, then I think this is a case where it was a poor choice. The fans can make theories, hcs, pick up pieces and make AUs, but we also love the stories told by the games and it’s what inspires us to uncover more stories (hey wanna talk about tp and why we hear Malon’s song at night, or what’s up with the empty desert)
I’d love to see totk from the perspective of someone who had never played or known botw. Did it really help to remove any traces of sheikah tech besides the labs and the guardian limbs in the towers. Although the zonai devices and the sheikah tech are from different time periods, totk was a perfect opportunity to marry the two elements together. The shrines and the divine beasts could’ve collapsed into the depths, but instead they have just vanished like erased history
Totk’s story doesn’t have an identity in the same way botw’s does. Even though botw’s hyrule was much smaller and emptier, we found stories there cuz we knew what that game was trying to tell us. If totk is about making sacrifices, then this message feels obsolete by the end. U should make sacrifices, but u will only be happy again if it all goes back to exactly how it was before
As happy and sweet the ending is, it made all the worry and sadness I felt seem pointless cuz of course everything would reset back to the norm cuz how else would this game have a happy ending. What was there to worry about. Yeah so what that Zelda became a dragon losing herself, she was just asleep the entire time and effortlessly she becomes her normal self. So what that link lost his sword arm, of course he would miraculously get it back even though it took him 100 years to recover from a mortal wound. No trace of the things they withstood and lost, no mark, nothing.
I loved the final battle and spectacle of the dragons struggling against each other in the sky. The battle went from the deepest depths to the highest reaches of the sky and I thought it was perfect. But once again how the story concluded and the logic behind it me made me feel like I was chewing on sand and the idyllic ending just made me look about in confusion
TLDR; totk is an amazing game with a stunning world that lacks a comprehensive story to tell
I hoped that I would get a better understanding why I’m so frustrated by totk, but instead I just feel even more confused by it and I think that’s just how I’ll have to leave it
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hometoursandotherstuff · 2 months ago
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Who loves Disney? Well, if you do, the real estate agent says, "We’ve just waved our magic wand and *Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo* we’ve found your happily ever after!" For this semi-detached, 3bd, 1ba home in Rhyl, LL18 UK, I will be quoting the descriptions from the agent. A bargain at £179,950 / $236,203.
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"Step into the spacious living/dining/kitchen area where the magic begins. With plenty of natural light and an open plan design, you’ll feel like you're in the happiest place on Earth with ample room for all the family."
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"Can easily accommodate a large dining table and chairs, with double doors opening onto the newly laid Indian sandstone patio." But, currently, it houses the owners' collection.
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"With plenty of cupboards and work surfaces, the kitchen is ready for any culinary adventure and will make every meal feel like hakuna matata - no worries, just good times!"
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Not sure what this room is. It looks like a den, with an evil queen theme. Love the matching fireplace.
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Up the stairs, we've got the London Bridge and Big Ben.
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"The master bedroom is perfect for any sleeping beauty and is fitted with wardrobes which have plenty of hanging space for those princess gowns." Is that Strawberry Shortcake on the wall?
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" A further double bedroom and single room which is perfect as a nursery or home office giving you a whole new world of possibilities." See what they did here? "A whole new world?"
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"Into the bathroom, your very own splash mountain retreat - unwind with a bubble bath or shower, this larger than average bathroom is designed to help you just keep swimming with ease through your daily routine." Splash Mountain retreat? That's a stretch.
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"Outside the low maintenance rear garden is a wonderland offering space to relax and play, offering a private and sunny aspect perfect for those bear necessities of life like a weekend BBQ or morning coffee!"
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Well, I don't see a garden, and the theme has switched to a variety of other characters.
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"With the added benefit of an extended garage with power and lights, a large summer house and further storage shed. Parking for your Lightning McQueen is available to the front of the property and on the single drive in front of the garage."
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"Dont miss out on this practically perfect in every way property and contact us today and make this home part of your world."
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https://www.rightmove.co.uk/properties/152043767#/
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eldritch-spouse · 8 months ago
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Is it safe to assume that Saudramar is the kind of guy that secretly stares at bathing humans?
[Absolutely, yes. Fem reader. No outright action but lots of fantasizing.]
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He can't help it.
Most protectors deployed to the surface have a rather large group of humans assigned to them, kept under their wing, organized. Especially in areas of conflict, instability and susceptibility to demonic presences.
Saudramar, as the poster boy of siadar protection forces, has been entrusted with a considerable slice of humans, a group comprised of notable individuals and the most apt specimen who must not suffer any kind of grievous harm.
Is this quite a lot of responsibility? Yes. Does he feel bothered by the fact? No.
Other things bother him. Bigger matters, those of which Saudramar is powerless to change.
But, in moments such as these, he can almost accept his current circumstances, give into them, forget all that ails his soul.
It had been a troublesome night, to say the least. The Traitor's forces are ruthless yet cautious, a blend of patience and bloodlust making them proficient hunters in the cold shadow of night, where they see miles ahead and humans are about as blind as it gets. In those hours, there are only few forces that can help, the Protector and his warrior celestials.
Even still, with such a large group of humans, his numbers are few. The higher had to distance his angels into very specific areas, while he himself would roam from point to point, snatching stragglers and the most powerful of fiends that would dare invade his territory.
His warriors were left damaged and sore, while he was soaked in the dried blood of the hellish.
Saudramar tended to his deflated angels and reminded them, once more, that no lesser perished under their watchful eyes. And that is why they're the peak of their kind.
Instead of resting however, the siadar is now standing nearby while the humans begin their daily routines, bathing themselves.
Just to be sure that the invading forces wouldn't try to attack lessers in yet another extremely vulnerable moment, he would lie to himself.
Yeah. As if.
He may have four eyes, but only one needs to deviate from the perimeter for Saudramar to get the view he's been craving.
Lessers. Bare as they day they'd been born, as the day the very first were created.
This group's routine is peculiar. The adults first prepare meals for their younglings, rushing to bathe while their offspring feeds and plays in the care of guardians.
This leaves Saudramar staring at figures he wishes were less appealing.
Frankly, he shouldn't react like this.
He's seen thousands upon thousands of lessers, he saw the prints and manuals and many of the intricacies your species sports. And yet, no matter how many times they appear before him, Saudramar drools at their soft flesh, their molding skin, the delicious curves of their legs and glistening chests. Even their hair, something he'd previously find kind of unpleasant on creations, it draws him in.
Humanity is temptation itself. It's a dirty, lasciviously designed project constantly taunting him with its inherent carnality. And the worst part is that they themselves don't realize how seductive they are. Don't know they evoke such lusts in him. In more than a few, but especially him. Saudramar wants, oh he wants, he wants to grab a handful and lavish them from top to bottom, he wants them to beg at his feet for a chance to sample his malehood, he wants these lessers all but in heat, squealing and melting around him, broken by the pleasure only someone who loves them enough to protect them can offer.
His eyelids twitch erratically when droplets of water cascade down the back of a female he had eyed a bit more than the others lately. She arches her body and swings her soaked hair back, unknowingly lifting her leg in a way that has him letting out a tense hiss.
Torture yet irresistible. This view is his reward for a job well done.
And Saudramar continues to lie to himself, when he says that he's content with this. That he doesn't want more, that he can curb his own urges.
How many times hasn't he thought about it? Considered it.
How easy wouldn't it be to grab one and abscond to a deserted location. Like you, you always smile so sweetly at him, always work so hard to please, he enjoys your offerings the most too. Yet, just once, Saudramar wishes you'd offer him your body, and he could pretend to not know it's forbidden. He could keep it a secret, and so could you.
He can't forgive himself for the images of cleaning his own seed off the apex of your thighs just so no one would suspect how close you are to your Protector.
He should relax, the last thing Saudramar wants is to tent his cloth right now.
" My Lord... "
Oh for the sake of his sanity just leave, will you?
He thinks of the bane of his existence and you manifest before him like some blasted curse.
" Lesser. "
Your sweet little doe eyes gaze at his form, reverent yet completely at ease. Locks of wet hair cling to your pretty face, droplets racing down the peaks of your tits and crawling into the space between your supple thighs he'd like to occupy. You make him so disgustingly libidinous Saudramar nearly fumes.
" Please come join us! "
He actually physically flinches.
He's most definitely not hearing right. His silence makes you visibly nervous.
" ... Speak once more. "
" I- You're covered in... We would like to help clean you my higher, as thanks. "
Saudramar is trapped in a dream. Some foul force has him in the throes of vivid hallucination. This cannot be real.
Again, the lack of response has you squirming.
" We know it's not a standard offering, my Lord, and forgive us if we are overstepping our- "
" I accept. "
You blink several times. " Wh- You do? Wonderful! Please, come with me! "
This is a terrible idea, he will regret this later. But in the moment, all Saudramar feels is the tingling warmth of anticipation as he settles upon the mildly warm water your kin is using.
Other humans bow and scatter, making space for his footfalls upon the body of water that is inevitably displaced by his sheer mass. Unfortunately, as Saudramar removes his sparse cloths to sit properly, the water turns murky with the natural soot of demonic blood. This location will be unsuitable for bathing now.
The Protector subtly schemes his lessers, wondering wantonly if any dare cast their gaze upon his brilliant form.
Sure enough, many do. He catches the flickering gazes of males and females settle on his figure, both the familiar and unfamiliar parts of him. Saudramar catches a few daring glances escape to the water, where his pelvis is blurred. Beyond his slit, there's little else to see of course, but Saudramar is aware humans wonder.
He wishes he could show you all.
As is, the higher tries to remain calm at the sight of his lessers approaching him, still bare and wet, all warm smiles and murmured praises when those soft hands rinse and stroke at him. Delicious.
Saudramar tilts his head back and relaxes, legs parting somewhat in the water as he sighs a little too shakily to come off as natural. Fortunately, his debauched reactions are interpreted as no more than a product of tiredness.
" Look, he overwhelms himself for us... "
He hears one of them sadly exclaim.
" So dedicated! So loving! "
" We should offer this service every morning. "
He parts his mouth briefly, a quiet shudder coursing his figure when two pairs of hands work on his thighs.
Saudramar knows these humans would never dare touch him in intimate zones, but he can still thrill himself with the false anticipation that perhaps those hands will climb a bit closer every time.
He's bold enough to pluck you from his sides and place you over his chest wordlessly, watching you squeak in shock but quickly adapt, getting to work on the dried blood around his neck.
He pretends he can't feel your plump ass on his skin, that your tender touch isn't making his lowermost eyes lid in satisfaction, that he can't see your chest shift from up close.
One of the Protector's arms reaches beneath his leg and inserts two fingers into his own slit.
It's the only way to make sure his cock won't spring out at this point.
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