Fizzarolli

While his teeth did not puncture Alastor's skin, they did press hard enough against the flesh to cause irritation. He was only further encouraged by the hand pressed against his back, then gripping at his hips.

Needy.

He gave a teasing wiggle of his hips, very purposefully leaning his weight back to create some sort of pressure. His focus, however, was on marking Alastor's throat with bruising for the time being.

Until he felt words rumble through his partner's vocal chords.

The lathering of attention against Alastor's throat came to an abrupt halt as a snickering laughter left Fizzarolli. "I'm busy," he replied, a clearly strong counter argument. His breath was hot against Alastor's skin as he momentarily detached himself from where he had been busy creating a hickey.

Thankfully, Fizzarolli was not wearing his full jester outfit. He had chosen something much more casual for the day. A loose fitting shirt with poofy long sleeves, his bell covered collar that typically sat beneath his ruffles, and a pair of balloon pants. With his cap already removed, it was easy to tug his top over head head and toss it aside.

Marred red and white skin had Fizzarolli very pointedly returning his gaze to Alastor. He didn't want to pay very close attention to the mess that was his body. It would never really make sense as why Alastor would want him in the nude. The ugly mesh of colors was not a pretty sight.

Fizzarolli made quick work of pulling his pants and boxers off, eager to return to his previous activity of lathering Alastor with attention. He settled himself back down on Alastor's hips, tail giving a few twitches before it settled between his partner's legs.

"Better?" He hunched himself over again, snout nosing against the red mark he'd left behind on Alastor's throat.

The friction given was quite the tease, bringing forth a slight sound that he only barely managed to keep from being pulled too far out of his throat. Though his claws were always threatening; always one few harsh presses from cutting into Fizzarolli's flesh, he was able to keep them at bay, his large hands simply enveloping the other's hips to keep him rooted in place and to prevent any over-the-top teasing that might bring him to get up and walk away.

Instead, he was treated to the other's brief pulling away to remove the remainder of his clothing, large palms taking the opportunity to trail over the now exposed skin in proper appreciation.

"Yes, thank you," Alastor replied with a satisfied hum, head tilting to one side to permit the further attention from Fizzarolli's mouth as he saw fit. It was not the visceral act that Alastor often craved, but he could appreciate the imp for his insistence, regardless.

Though the teasing would drive him just a bit too far into impatience before long, his antlers sharpened just by the nature of being relatively worked up. Cautious to not use them inadvertently with any dramatic swings of his head.

"You know - Your skin reminds me of peppermint," he said absently, tip-toeing claws over the places along the imp's form where the red met white. "Patterned. It's endearing."

Alastor knew Fizzarolli did not favor those scars of his. But he had never been one to lie to preserve the other's feelings.

As Alastor further exposed his neck, Fizzarolli nudged his snout against the skin, tongue peeking out to press against already irritated flesh. He shivered as he felt palms press against his bare skin, distracting him from his goal.

He paused at Alastor's comment about his scars, face very suddenly feeling hot. He hadn't said anything recently to clue anyone in on his particularly bad bout of self hatred, but Alastor still made the comment. It made Fizz's heart skip a beat. Someone cared enough to remember his insecurities.

Endearing, Alastor had said.

Fizzarolli leaned back to stare Alastor in the eye. He was certain his blushing was horribly obvious, so he very quickly decided to hide it by shoving his mouth against his partner's. While his body was informing him of an intense need to continue on with their more sexual encounter, he also needed to make sure Alastor understood his appreciation, even when words failed him.

"Peppermint," Fizz mumbled when he inevitably broke the brief kiss. "Shockingly, that's a first."

stormfrontrains

My Man (of the Week)

Fizzarolli is my role model and ride or die. If you’re not here for him, kindly exit the ride. Thank you.

#The Jester~ Self

It was better that Alastor didn't ask. There were far too many drunken nights where he had been freshly out of the hospital with his first set of prosthetics that things with strangers had escalated. His self image had been so shattered that he had taken any kind of attention. His prosthetics hadn't been particularly advanced at the time, which meant he learned how to use other parts of himself to please- specifically his mouth.

Those memories, however, were far from Fizzarolli's mind in the moment. Instead, he was focused on the throbbing appendage in his throat. It was times like these when he was forever grateful for his almost complete lack of a gag reflex.

The imp continued to suckle, attempting to stimulate every damn thing that he could, until Alastor spoke. Satisfied with his partner's now obvious erection, Fizz freed his mouth, a trail of saliva following as he leaned back.

"I plan to. Don't you worry, babe," Fizz purred, shifting positions once more. From his place between Alastor's legs, he crawled forward to straddle the deer's lap. His outfit jingled insistently as he settled, ass purposely pressed against the base of Alastor's cock. Fizzarolli leaned forward then, immediately aiming to suck on his partners neck. He was careful to keep his horns from scrapping against Alastor as he began to lather flesh with his tongue and lips.

No, he did not need to know any of that. Too distracted, in any case, by the way the other's mouth continued to work at his length to the point where it would be unmistakable that he was 'invested'. His eyes fixed themselves down to that appealing mouth as Fizzarolli adjusted, his hand coming to brace against the imp's back as he directed those teeth and that tongue against his throat instead.

His hands would not remain idle, however, drifting down to grip at Fizzarolli's hips - making an attempt to provide himself some friction.

But the fact that the other was still clothed was a bit aggravating, at this point.

"Plan on disrobing for me any time soon, or are you going to wear those aggravating bells all evening?" He muttered in a low tone, reaching to make a point and jingling one of them. He would not put it beneath the imp to make this as weird an encounter as possible by remaining in the outfit.

While his teeth did not puncture Alastor's skin, they did press hard enough against the flesh to cause irritation. He was only further encouraged by the hand pressed against his back, then gripping at his hips.

Needy.

He gave a teasing wiggle of his hips, very purposefully leaning his weight back to create some sort of pressure. His focus, however, was on marking Alastor's throat with bruising for the time being.

Until he felt words rumble through his partner's vocal chords.

The lathering of attention against Alastor's throat came to an abrupt halt as a snickering laughter left Fizzarolli. "I'm busy," he replied, a clearly strong counter argument. His breath was hot against Alastor's skin as he momentarily detached himself from where he had been busy creating a hickey.

Thankfully, Fizzarolli was not wearing his full jester outfit. He had chosen something much more casual for the day. A loose fitting shirt with poofy long sleeves, his bell covered collar that typically sat beneath his ruffles, and a pair of balloon pants. With his cap already removed, it was easy to tug his top over head head and toss it aside.

Marred red and white skin had Fizzarolli very pointedly returning his gaze to Alastor. He didn't want to pay very close attention to the mess that was his body. It would never really make sense as why Alastor would want him in the nude. The ugly mesh of colors was not a pretty sight.

Fizzarolli made quick work of pulling his pants and boxers off, eager to return to his previous activity of lathering Alastor with attention. He settled himself back down on Alastor's hips, tail giving a few twitches before it settled between his partner's legs.

"Better?" He hunched himself over again, snout nosing against the red mark he'd left behind on Alastor's throat.

Lucky for Alastor, Fizzarolli is the master of being entirely unserious in serious situations. He has an entire arsenal of jokes specifically catered to sex. Maybe one or two will come out. Only time will tell.

While Alastor's reaction to his tongue was certainly less immediate than most, Fizzarolli was prepared for it. He knew he was going to have to work for it. He offered a throaty chuckle as he dragged his tongue up to the tip of Alastor's length, green eyes peering intently at the Overlord.

"I know what I'm doing," he breathed, clearly quite confident. "Just trust me."

The imp's tail twisted itself around Alastor's thigh just as he leaned down once more. This time, he slid his mouth around Alastor's dick, pressing it in against the roof of his mouth and the back of his throat. While he waited for some sort of reaction, he pressed his tongue against its underside, forked tips curling against it. Saliva oozed from his jaws as he pressed his palms into Alastor's hips. Just as requested, his teeth stayed far away from the exposed flesh in his mouth.

Briefly, Alastor wondered if he should question where Fizzarolli got his experience from, but he was not eager to hurt his own feelings or otherwise prompt any stirrings of either inadequacy or jealousy, and so he squelched the desire.

Instead, he focused downward, ears pinning themselves back against his head as Fizzarolli took him entirely into his mouth - into that fascinatingly deep throat that Alastor was trying to calculate the length and width of in order to maintain focus on something. But the warm, wet sensation was more enticing than it had any right to be, a slight huff of an exhale leaving his mouth before he had the ability to restrain it.

Though his mind and libido were not always connected, he was not immune to the physical stoking of a reaction, blood rushing - as it often does - to the area the imp was lathing with attention. It took a great bit of self control for Alastor to not find a place to bury claws into, but he was not eager to turn this into a moment of one-sided bloodshed. Fizzarolli had never struck him as the type. Too small and skinny and too turned off - he presumed - by blood and viscera in general. A shame, Alastor thought, but he could cope. Especially if the imp continued to display such prowess with that tongue.

Still - it did not stop him from envisioning how nicely Fizzarolli's head might fit between his own jaws.

Terrible. Terrible thoughts.

"You're welcome to make me bruise in other places, if you so please," he decided to offer between heavier breaths. Though he would not open up the possibility of Fizzarolli using those claws to make him bleed, that was not off the table either.

Bruising was probably just fine. A decent middle ground.

It was better that Alastor didn't ask. There were far too many drunken nights where he had been freshly out of the hospital with his first set of prosthetics that things with strangers had escalated. His self image had been so shattered that he had taken any kind of attention. His prosthetics hadn't been particularly advanced at the time, which meant he learned how to use other parts of himself to please- specifically his mouth.

Those memories, however, were far from Fizzarolli's mind in the moment. Instead, he was focused on the throbbing appendage in his throat. It was times like these when he was forever grateful for his almost complete lack of a gag reflex.

The imp continued to suckle, attempting to stimulate every damn thing that he could, until Alastor spoke. Satisfied with his partner's now obvious erection, Fizz freed his mouth, a trail of saliva following as he leaned back.

"I plan to. Don't you worry, babe," Fizz purred, shifting positions once more. From his place between Alastor's legs, he crawled forward to straddle the deer's lap. His outfit jingled insistently as he settled, ass purposely pressed against the base of Alastor's cock. Fizzarolli leaned forward then, immediately aiming to suck on his partners neck. He was careful to keep his horns from scrapping against Alastor as he began to lather flesh with his tongue and lips.

"Oh-ho, so we're being funny today, are we? That's my job," Fizz snorted, twisting to shove a hand into Alastor's face. "No, you don't get to eat me. If you did that, then I'd be gone. 'Sides, I wouldn't taste very good. I'm all bones and metal."

Claws smoothed down Alastor's stomach fur, and while he was tempted to once again press his face into the fluff, he managed to hold himself back. "Alright, give me a sec to readjust us."

Fizzarolli maneuvered himself around, gently pressing Alastor's legs apart and sitting in-between them. This way, he could actually see his partner's face and judge if anything was too much, or uncomfortable. He paused, giving Alastor a moment to mentally prepare.

The first touches were feather light. Metal claws made contact with flaccid skin and mapped out Alastor's length. After a moment of feeling things out, Fizzarolli ducked his head and stuck his tongue out, dragging its saliva covered surface up the length of Alastor's dick with purposely slow movements in an attempt to get some sort of reaction.

"You say bones and metal as if I've not put worse things in my mouth," Alastor retorted, though it was clearly said for giggles. He was prepared to make this rather difficult for Fizzarolli to do with any level of seriousness, though the hands coasting over his belly were rather nice. Metal or not. He quieted down then, bringing his hands back to himself for the time being - until the other was settled between his legs and tilting his head slightly in response to the touches.

They did not immediately elicit any responses besides a vaguely interested eye, though the mouth being used in such a sensitive area could hardly do anything but bring forth some sort of response. It was not immediate, true enough, but it was enough to make him stir, jaw set as the sensation permeated from surface-level to his core.

It would take more than that, but it was not a terrible start.

"I don't think I need to tell you to watch your teeth."

Though part of him was curious as to what that might feel like...

Probably best for another time.

Lucky for Alastor, Fizzarolli is the master of being entirely unserious in serious situations. He has an entire arsenal of jokes specifically catered to sex. Maybe one or two will come out. Only time will tell.

While Alastor's reaction to his tongue was certainly less immediate than most, Fizzarolli was prepared for it. He knew he was going to have to work for it. He offered a throaty chuckle as he dragged his tongue up to the tip of Alastor's length, green eyes peering intently at the Overlord.

"I know what I'm doing," he breathed, clearly quite confident. "Just trust me."

The imp's tail twisted itself around Alastor's thigh just as he leaned down once more. This time, he slid his mouth around Alastor's dick, pressing it in against the roof of his mouth and the back of his throat. While he waited for some sort of reaction, he pressed his tongue against its underside, forked tips curling against it. Saliva oozed from his jaws as he pressed his palms into Alastor's hips. Just as requested, his teeth stayed far away from the exposed flesh in his mouth.

sirserpentine

"Are you sure this is going to work?" ~ @circus-frog

The hospital room was the same, but Pentious' former bed was now vacant. The injuries from his own accident had all healed and the serpent had been long since discharged, but he hadn't been able to leave the imp to fare by himself. Getting to know the performer had been a rare delight for the old inventor. Despite that ungodly voice of his, Fizzarolli was a very sweet soul. And though his injuries were stark, Pentious still believed he could return on stage eventually. He desperately hoped so, for the poor fellow's sake.

Pentious had visited the imp every week, providing him company, as well eventual encouragement in the form of sketches and concept designs, as well as test sockets and measuring supplies for replacement limbs.

Now that the stumps where Fizzarolli's legs and arms used to be no longer shed skin or harboured an acute risk for deadly infection, Pentious had arrived carrying boxes of his latest prototypes. They were far from an eventually finished product, but they would hopefully work enough to bring Fizzarolli closer to full mobility than his prognosis suggested.

"Trusssst me, young Fizzarolli!" Sir Pentious hissed, his hefty tail wagging in excitement. "I was an inventor before I was a Sinner! Far before you were even born. Or your parents, for that matter."

Pentious rummaged the boxes until he produced fully jointed brass arms and legs, built to match Fizzarolli's size to near perfection. They had wires and visible springs, but they were clearly made with attention to detail and function.

"Which ones do you fancy trying first, arms or legs?"