Ash here. Keeping things real simple here, but some rules to keep in mind.
1. Obviously, nsfw writing takes place here. Things will be slow. As much as I want to practice I am a little self-conscious and not very skilled.
2. Sticking with interacting with people I know (and know they are 18+) and ships Iâve spoken to others about/have developed. There will be exceptions (such as a fanon ship I like that might not refer to anyone in particular), but if the characters arenât close on the normal blogs, itâs unlikely anything will be written. My rule of chemistry for ships still apply and I donât intend on changing that.Â
Listen, if you want to try something, just talk to me. Iâm aro, and so my brain doesnât always play matchmaker like itâs supposed to. Partially because Iâve been a little unlucky with ships over the years, and I donât want to get invested in a ship only for it not to work out.
3. Iâm still figuring things out and may change the list of things I wonât write as I discover topics. In general, Iâd prefer things to be consensual, safe, and not implying cheating (with an obvious exception). I'm also not comfortable with characters being called "daddy".
Also, regarding muses... For now, Iâll stick with five: W.ilf, G.unther (just be aware he will be slow about it), Y.ancy, modern!Damien and W.KM!Damien. Dante (in the modern entity form) is unavailable. Heâs disgusted in himself and everything hurts.
This is a post that consists of the basic info needed for the boys.
Under the read-more are tags - mainly a handy guide for ships since I donât want anything landing in searches on the site by mistake. This list is not definite and will be added to as time goes on, so donât worry about that.
Note: Keeping in mind potential overlap, Iâm linking to blogs in the character name!
Where is my personal royal knight whom iâve been flirting with for over a year, and love to tease and watch them get flustered because they canât do anything about it until finally one day i push them just a bit too far and they push me up against the wall which makes me moan and now weâre just staring at each other because that was a very indecent thing to come out of a princeâs mouth but i beg them to continue
SFW but something I've realised this morning about W.ilf and his dynamics.
-
With the ways things have been over the last year, I was slapped in the face this morning with the fact that W.ilf... doesn't actually have any date ships bar the one that's been established since really early on.
This is not me asking for ships, I should immediately clarify. I ship based on dynamic, not match-making (the one time I tried match-making it was an utter disaster), and truthfully, there hasn't really been anything that's worked out properly in that direction for him in particular. Aside from the long-established ship.... everything else fell flat over the years. Like, a ship would barely be established and I'd never hear from the other mun again.
It's... curious, is all. Between that and him having more awareness of overlapping timelines (and his involvement with friendships and established things), it's almost like he's taken a bit of a step back from everything in that regard. I've not had a lot of good luck about these things over the years, I think we all know that by now.
But like... the other factor is that I don't really have ships in mind for him. When I say I do not have a wishlist for any of my characters, I am 100% serious. I cannot think of desired plots, let alone ships. I did try one or two ships with canon characters but, surprise surprise, the muns vanished before there was even an attempt IC to set up a date.
Oh. But to make it relevant to this blog it's why I've had virtually no interest in trying to write the deeds with him even though I could do one night stands but... ehhhh. (And obviously themes of cheating are out because it's something I personally don't like). Plus, the point of this blog originally was to try and show appreciation for ships that I had been writing elsewhere with others and, well, that went terribly.
On this S.inday I should probably point out that... this blog is basically on hiatus.
Yeah.
I made it on a whim to follow a trend of something that literally died within the week or two after I made it (and you know, when the hype was there no one bothered to tell me the ask box was closed for several days so that really gave an indication of how excited people weren't).
The intention of this was to practice writing, but also let me explore established ships. Which I don't really have these days (and no, I am not writing things between characters who barely know each other and without OOC converstion to establish things.) And even if I did have an urge to write something... there's not really any reason to share it. To me, it would just be like... some needy grab for attention by reblogging memes because of course everyone wants to see their muses get something. Truthfully, I'd rather that on my normal blogs and actually try to work on things now that there is a bit of normality in my life. Why else do you think I never linked to this place during the summmer?
Maybe I'll change my mind at some point in the future, but.. eh. Being both a.ro and a.ce really screws with your head on how you're supposed to approach days like this, and it's hard not to be keenly aware of how much of an outsider you are because of how your brain is tuned to these topics.
Heâs slow to initiate a relationship, but heâs not immune to the way his mind wanders as he tries to tempt himself to sleep. The body is relaxed, but it does little to slow the thoughts that slip into his mind.
Itâs a quiet night leading to a quiet tomorrow at home. Itâs a shame that they werenât here. Not that they ought to be. Damien never gave any clear clue that they were interested, but alone like this... He could let the mind wander and imagine what it would be like if they could stay the night.
He could imagine the way they would roll over and pin him against the bed. Maybe there was a conversation that led to this, or maybe something had inspired them. Whatever it was, it fuelled the coy smirk on their lips that he would noticed before he was caught in a kiss. Their touch would be comforting and warm - easily done when Damien was always cold - and he would willingly melt into the kiss. One hand would gently hold his wrist in place while the other would support them until they pulled back and shifted to a kneeling position.
Theyâd look beautiful. He was certain of that much, at least. It was urge him on to reach up, place a hand on their cheek, and gently coax them back into another kiss. They would oblige him, of course, but it wasnât the point of this. Instead, when they should have taken that previous position, theyâd instead leave brief, hot kisses against his neck in the seconds before they pulled his pyjama top clean off. The rest of the outfit would quickly follow suit as their hands trailed down agonisingly slowly.
(His hand mimics the action as it slips under the waistband of his pyjama pants. Heâs already growing hard)
Maybe they would be tempted to take pity on the poor, needy Mayor, or maybe they would overlook it as they focus on their own task. Theyâd know about the lube hidden in the drawer of the nightstand (he has already blindly fumbled to pull it out), and would quickly set to work prepping him. Theyâd think he looks like a work of art.
But this is a fantasy, he doesnât need to go through every step. He can jump straight to the sensation of being filled. He doesnât care by what, so long as itâs nothing dangerous and (more importantly) helps ease the overpowering awareness of how empty he was moments beforehand. It would be slow at first, anything to help make sure he was pliable and ready for them to use. But theyâd go deep, just to wind him up and make him impatient.
The two of them would fit perfectly together once the necessary preparations were made, and all would be right in the world. He canât mimic the sensation on his own, but he can try to amplify the pleasure as the lube on his hand allowed his movements to be as frantic as he needed them to be.Â
Thereâs a low moan - a name on his lips as he squeezes his eyes shut. Lips that beg to be kissed are partly open to let slip shallow breaths as he chases the high heâs feeling in his fantasy. He doesnât even know how heâd want them to take him, but heâd trust them to do what would feel the best for both of them. Right now, he pumps himself firmly, with a quick pace to keep the sensations at a constant level.Â
At some point earlier, Damien had intended to pull back before he got too carried away, but his body had other plans as he came far quicker than he anticipated. His pyjamas bore the brunt of the load, but there was no rush to change as Damien slumps into the bed with a heavy, relieved sigh. Maybe the guilt and embarrassment would kick in shortly and give him the push to not only change his outfit, but also push these thoughts to the back of his mind. But right now, heâd enjoy the calm after the storm.Â
Maybe the partner they see in their mindâs eye would give a tired laugh and kiss him again.
[ Â GYM Â ]: Â Â Â Â Â after a heated and energetic training session together, the sender and receiver, at the conclusion of the sparring match, proceed to have sex on the gymnasium floor.
-
"You sure youse is the one who kicked my ass?"
With the rest of the crew busy completing their errands, Yancy had taken it upon himself to keep the Captain up to speed with their combat skills. It was supposed to be Gunther, but there had been a higher than expected demand for workshops on how to use the laser pistols each crew member had been assigned.
What that meant was Yancy was able to relish being able to push the Captain to their limits in a belated payback. It was mean, since the Captain had been jumping through hoops to complete far too many tasks, but it was necessary. As the ADS crew kept reminding everyone - no one knew what to expect.
Except the Captain did. Lady might look for reinforcements. What if they landed in a timeline where they were restrained by Wug before being thrown into a cell? What if they woke up in the alien gladiator arena again? They couldn't risk being unprepared. Their train of thought distracted them for a fraction of a second, and Yancy was quick to take advantage of it. One leg whipped around with a speed to knock the Captain onto their rear.
"You needs to keep focused, Chains." Yancy's voice was stern as he offered them a hand up. "If youse is stuck in that head if youses', it'll be loss after loss, and is that helpful to anyone?"
They shook their head.
"Right. It ain't gonna help anyone. Rule number one of being in a fight: Pay attention to the damn fight. Câmon. Start again, and I ainât going easy on youse. Iâve learned some new tricks since our prison brawl.â
-
They both took their stances again, and Yancy struck out. The Captain dodged and lashed out with a counter that was swiftly blocked. The reminder of the rule helped ground the Captain. This was good. Focus on the here and now. The responsibilities of the ship didnât matter, not when they had to try and save their dignity. Â
In fact, nothing else mattered beyond wiping the smug grin off Yancyâs cute face. He skidded back with a click of his tongue. âNow thatâs more like it. Now weâs getting somewhere.â The overall was zipped down to his waist so he could tie the sleeves around his hips. It only served to draw the Captainâs attention to the toned body, emphasised further by the white shirt that was a little too tight around his chest. His job had ensured his prison exercise routine was maintained, and so his arms were still muscular and strong. Not even the addition of a second boxed tattoo could distract from the matter.Â
They gulped. Suddenly, they felt very warm. Was someone messing with the heaters again? Or was it just them caught up in checking Yancy out?
He brushed his hair back with his left hand, revealing that some of the curls were coming loose from the light hold the gel had provided, and the Captain realised that there was a distinct possibility that Yancy had caught on.
âLetâs dance!â
The practice fight resumed, but the Captain couldnât keep their attention on what was happening. Everything about the ex-convict captivated them; so much so that they didnât even register they had been tripped for a second time until they hit the floor. This time, Yancy didnât offer a hand to help them up. Instead, he threw a glance in the direction of the door. It was still shut, and it was unlikely anyone would come in.
âYouse is even more distracted than before,â he tutted, kneeling down in such a manner that one leg was either side of them. One hand rested on their chest as he continued, âIf I didnât know better, Iâd say that youse wanted to lose. What, is being Captain too hard? Would youse rather lose the fight to someone so they can claim you as a trophy to show to their people? Youse wanna be a cute little prize, all dolled up and not allowed to think?â Yancy paused and lifted his hand to gauge their reaction. If this was going too far, heâd immediately stop.
Instead, the Captain squirmed. Their face was heating up, but so too was their groin. They tried to make eye contact with Yancy, only to look away out of embarrassment.
âHm? Whatâs that? Did I get it right? Ooh, youse do wanna be treated like a prize, huh? Well, I guess I did win. Think Iâve earned myself this, donât you think?â He lowered his hips, pressing them flush against the Captainâs. The reward was an immediate gasp and bucking of hips by his superior (but really, theyâll always be equal in his eyes when no one else was around). âWhat if I was to take you right here? Anyone could walk in, and itâd be a real shame for them to see the distinguished Captain in such a mess⊠Or, no one might come by and I can use youse like a living fleshlight.â Though he sounded cocky, Yancy was still cautious as he waited to see whether consent would be withdrawn. When it wasnât, he began to roll his hips slowly against them. âBet youâd be too needy to wanna move to somewhere more private. But then again, you donât get a say in that. You ainât the Captain right now. Hell, you ainât nothing that gets to think for themself right now. Maybe youâll be my pretty toy⊠Or my pet. Iâm sure we can find a little collar for youse, one of those ones with a bell on it. Is that what you want right now? You wanna be my sweet little fucktoy?â
They whimpered, presumably the closest they could get to agreeing, and Yancyâs grin only grew wider.
âThatâs it... Good answer.â Leaning forward, Yancy grasped both the Captainâs wrists and kept them in a loose hold. If they wanted to break out, it would be easy to do so. It also allowed him to adjust his position so he could properly rock his hips. He was already getting hard at the thought of using a risky, unconventional location, and it was a strain to the tightened overalls. However, the extra awareness of his arousal made the sensations all the better. Not only that, they could feel the Captainâs crotch getting damp through the layers in anticipation - assuming they were even wearing underwear to begin with. Their movement was limited, but they spread their legs out a fraction more to entice Yancy a little more.
âPleaseâŠâ Their voice was breathy and raspy, yet it had Yancyâs full attention.
âPlease what? Youse gotta use your words, sweetcakes.â
âPlease use me.â
âVery goodâŠâ A gentle praise was given before Yancy abruptly upped the pace. The Captain let out a moan while the mechanic rutted into them. He was hitting every single sweet spot with such precision and firmness, just like they were a toy that he had mastered using. And what a delightful thought that was - to just let someone use them without them needing to make the big decisions or be the responsible one. Instead, their mind could drift to the desire of having him in them, fucking them with such intensity that their insides might get scrambled in the process. Even now, something was twisting with pleasure inside them as Yancy kept a firm, steady pace. They needed this, desperately needed this release, and knowing it was coming at Yancyâs discretion rather than theirs brought a strange sense of desperation. They wanted to be good enough.
(Would it be weird to admit theyâd want to be âusedâ like this again?)
âYancy⊠Need youâŠâ
âWhat? You think this is all youse is getting? Oh no, this is only the start. I want you making a mess of that training outfit, and then Iâm gonna fuck you on that oversized bed of youseâs.â His grinding slowed to a halt, earning him a needy whine from the Captain. âYou got lube? Iâm thinking that pretty ass of youseâs needs to be claimed tonight. And after thatâŠ? Well, best to wait and see what Iâm in the mood for.â Lifting his hands off their wrists, Yancy pulled himself upright so he could focus on grinding firmly against their needy groin. It barely lasted a minute before the Captain came under him with a shaky breath. He was close, but opted to hold off as he instead rose to his feet and tugged off his shirt.
âCâmon. Trainingâs over. I got more important things to do to youse tonight. We oughta get started while everyone else is still busy.â
With hungry eyes, the Captain forced themselves out of the post-orgasm haze to clamber to their feet and chase after them with shaking legs. Already, their mind was reeling with the ideas that Yancy had so casually planted of how he would use them.
[Â FERRISÂ WHEELÂ ]:Â Â Â Â Â when visiting a closed funfair in the middle of the night, the sender and receiver stop the ferris wheel when theyâre at the very top, and get frisky beneath the stars and above the world.
@crushng
Disclaimer: I tried to write Gin. Please forgive me. I'm not even sure why I wrote the third person over Gin's shoulder instead of Gunther's, but it happened and I let it continue. I⊠also did try to consult headcanons but things might be wrong. Please yell at me for that.
Also! The final word count for this one is 2,669!
-
These nights were few and far between.
Gin felt selfish. He had sworn never to return to the story he was made for. He couldn't risk having the puppet strings wrapped around his limbs again. Yet, he snuck in for moments brief enough to pull Gunther out of the story for brief spells.
Having Wilford send messages on his behalf had been fine at first. It was supposed to be the final push Gin needed to move on. But it wasnât that easy. A note wasnât enough to convey the yearning. A reassurance from Wilford while they moped at the bar and drank the place out of milkshakes wasnât the same as hearing it directly from Gunther. He missed the soldier, whether he liked it or not. They would even hazard a guess that it was one of the only good things about that looping nightmare. Unknown to both at the time, they had each defied their programming and found love - Gunther even going as far as teaching himself love when it wasn't coded into him. When things were in a lulled state of normalcy, Gunther was a familiar face Gin had enjoyed seeing, and wanted to see again.
He had promised himself the first removal would be it. They argued, they threw bitter remarks back and forth, they apologised, they embraced. It should have been enough to close the chapter on that part of Gin's life - the perfect moment to do so! - but Gin couldnât do it. They didnât want to leave Gunther behind forever, and swore to himself to try and sneak them out again.
It was never on a set schedule. When Gin missed Gunther, they would get him out. He tried to compare it to taking a toy off the shelf. Add some sort of distance between them and make it feel less real.Â
It didn't work.
Their brief moments together turned into short dates - however much Gunther could handle before he ran low on energy and needed to be returned to the story. The locations were carefully chosen so there would be no pressure put on them, nor anyone that Gin might want to feed on. Gunther didn't need to learn the truth about what they had become just yet.
Tonight had them stumble across a funfair. When Gunther made a comment about not being able to remember the last time he went to one, Gin took the initiative and dragged him in. Gates weren't an issue, as they could disappear and reappear once the pair passed. The paths were barely lit by security lights (neither would appear on the security footage). It hardly looked like a suitable place for a date, but it didn't matter. They were here, together.
It would have been nice to simply walk around and chat, but Gunther was already starting to lose a bit of gusto. Staying in an open space for too long could catch attention from any guards that might be lurking, which meant they needed to sit somewhere out of sight.
Gin's eyes drifted skyward as he tried to think of a solution, and caught a glimpse of the Ferris Wheel. Ah. That would do nicely.
-
Gunther didn't need to know how the wheel began to move despite there being no power, nor why it stopped when they were perfectly positioned at the top. Instead, his gaze was on the scenery. A full moon and a clear, starry sky cast a magic touch across the land below. It was a view both should have been used to, but there was wisdom to the idea that a new perspective can give you new appreciation for something.
"I've been stuck so long out there, I'd almost forgotten what the earth looked like," Gunther mused, and Gin had to hold his tongue to keep the truth to himself - neither of them had lived on earth and that they only ever existed in space. It wasnât the time. "It's pretty down there, isn't it? The houses dotted in neat rows, the fields rolling out in the distance⊠I could look at it for hours."Â
Gin shifted in the seat opposite Gunther to look out. It almost looked like a model set one might see in a museum, like he could reach out and pluck a tree like a cocktail stick. There was an ethereal beauty in the moment that felt so real, yet utterly dream-like. Despite that, it was just a view. It wasnât anything tangible once the moment passed. Gin could find any world that looked like this whenever they wanted. No, what mattered more were the encounters, the instances that made something special and less forgettable.
He reached out and placed a hand on Gunther's knee. "You're the more important view in my eyes."
Just like always, a simple compliment stopped Gunther in his tracks. Gin lifted the shades, putting them into one of the many pockets in Guntherâs cargo pants. Even with the limited light, Gin could see how the soldier's face grew warmer.
It would be so easy! Reach out and take a bite! He was always yours! Consuming him would make sure he'd NEVER leave and you could abandon the story for good! Then he'd be yours and YOURS alone!
âŠ
But would that be worth it in the end? Even now, when Gin dropped hints of him being inhuman, Gunther didn't seem to care. Could Gin finally take a moment to peel off the mask of humanity and relish the sensation of being the one that consumed worlds? Show Gunther that they were no longer a gullible engineer following the same old nonsense, and that they should fear them as much as they love him.
No. Not tonight. Not when Gunther was looking at him like he was worth more than every weapon in Gunther's inventory (which, despite how it sounds, was very high praise). He doesn't know the truth, and wasn't there a thrill in that? Gunther could see beyond what everyone else saw. It was refreshing, almost, to be seen almost like an equal and not feel they had to prove themself. A break from being an unstoppable force was nice, once in a while.
He wanted this man more than ever before. Already, memories of being clingy and trying to pin Gunther against the bed to cuddle when the ADS Lead really should be getting ready for patrol were coming to the forefront. But it wasn't like the memories that would try to reprogram him. Instead, it was like the past trying to guide them on what to do.Â
Gin slipped across and sat himself on Gunther's lap. That attention didn't dwindle for an instant as Gunther placed one hand on Gin's thigh, and the other on his hip. There was only a moment before Gin leaned down and took his lips for their own. It was messy - Gunther was inexperienced while Gin had too much practice - but equally needy. Their tongue dove in at the first opportunity, greedily exploring and tasting as much of the soldier as possible. It was savoury, yet smoky not ideal to eat, not sweet enough and so uniquely Gunther.Â
The moment they broke for air, Gunther's hoodie was pulled right off to reveal that toned body basked in moonlight, but it wasn't perfect. Not yet. Gin's lips chose a spot on the left collarbone where he could bite. They all needed to know Gunther was taken. Gunther was his! And one day, Gunther will never return to that blasted ship!
The bite drew a little blood that Gin eagerly lapped up. The metallic taste spurred him on to leave more marks. Bites, bruises, hickies. He wanted Gunther's neck and shoulders to be a canvas dotted with art.
(The rest of his torso too, of course, but it was a little harder to reach them at this angle while masquerading as an ordinary human.)
As he pulled Gunther into another deep kiss, Gin's hands slipped down to start undoing the button and zips of both their trousers. They only parted so both could remove the garments, only to quickly resume the positions. That desperation manifested itself in the form of switching Gin's intimate area with a hole - a literal fuckhole that could easily take cock without any prep - that was already drenched and dripping. The gaping emptiness was suddenly at the forefront of his mind (however brief it would last, it was stronger than the familiar bouts of hunger) and it was an aching need that could easily be remedied by the hard cock just in front of him, standing in the open air and ready to be fucked.
They sank down, already feeling the relief of having something in him. Fuck, how could he even think coherently in the moments before this? Like this, he could roll his hips to feel a low, constant wave of pleasure while he busied himself with kissing Gunther breathless and leaving light bite marks on his lower lip.Â
Gunther moaned, hips bucking up just enough to give Gin the hint that they should get a move on. Gunther was weak, vulnerable. It would be a mercy to kill him like this and save him the agony of returning to a world he doesn't belong to. Gin could take good care of him! Keep him nice and safe, away from anyone who would try and steal him away. He'd have his own little pocket away from the Creator or anyone else who might damage him, where he could fulfil all his military/adventure desires and have a bed that he would eagerly invite Gin to -
"I love youâŠ"Â
Three words tumbled out of Gunther's mouth, and Gin was unable to see that plan through.Â
Suddenly, he wanted to enjoy the here and now with the man who might have been the only one to have always seen Gin as more than what he was created to be; the man who only held anger toward the black hole not because of what they had become, but because the man he loved disappeared without a trace before he could say goodbye.
Gin lifted his hips and slammed them down. Immediately, he was rewarded with a cry from Gunther that urged him to keep going. Who cared if they were loud? Guards wouldn't be able to do anything about it. Gunther could disappear out of existence back into the story, and Gin could feed on those miserable louts.
Wait. They briefly paused as they considered this idea. That one might actually work.
"Something wrong?" Already flustered, Gunther had managed to pull himself out of the haze to check on his partner. Gin flashed a slightly too-wide grin.
"Just thinking about how good you sound like this. Don't want to rush it just yet." Better to keep that idea in their head. They traced a finger along Gunther's jawline, finishing by placing it under his chin and tilting his head up. The neck itself couldn't be marked too badly - the last thing he wanted was more of the crew gaining awareness - but it could still be kissed and licked. He even made sure to leave a kiss on the bee tattoo, just like they used to.
Gunther's eyes closed with a shaky groan when Gin resumed bouncing on his cock. Lacking the weight of a normal human, it was so much easier to ride Gunther as hard as they'd wanted to for longer than they wanted to admit.
It was nothing like how the two crewmates used to act when alone. Gunther had always worried that because of his inexperience, he would be too boring for someone so fun-loving. At the time, Mark had smiled with a shake of his head. That wasnât important. If they both felt good while together, that mattered more than anything.
Right now, at least, Gunther could agree with that.
"Mmm⊠Ah, GinâŠ. You - fuck - you feel so good." The soldier's mouth was open, panting as he tried to keep up with the unnatural speed. It would only take a moment to lean back down and bite that tongue clean off -
No, no. Not tonight. Perhaps their relationship would end as expected, but Gin wanted to hold onto this moment with such clarity that he could replay it beat for beat in his mind next time he grew desperate for Gunther's touch.
It was for the best. The less of the truth Gunther knew about Gin, the better.
Maybe he could find another version of their story, one that had an engineer and lacked the ADS Lead. Maybe he could leave Gunther there and finally fully forget about him. Gunther was a weak link that the Creator could take advantage of!Â
Ugh. Who were they trying to fool? They wouldn't be able to keep away forever. Even if such a plan succeeded, he'd grow jealous of that counterpart in a universe far different from this one.
"Say it again." Gin's voice was low, firm, yet held an air of pleading to it.
"Say what again?"
"That you love me."Â
Tell me this is real. Tell me you aren't playing a part I want you to play.
Gin felt a pair of hands on his thighs, forcing him to stop moving and give his full attention to Gunther. "I love you. I wish I'd known it sooner so we could have had more time together; and I wish I'd told you one more time before you disappeared. But I'm glad you found me again. Iâve barely been able to survive without seeing your beautiful smile." This time, Gunther pushed himself up to kiss Gin, something far softer than what they had been going through moments earlier. "I know this has never been something I've been good at, but⊠You're the best thing that's happened to me, Gin. Even if everything's a, uh, story thing, I'm thankful I got to meet you in it."
Gin pressed his lips against Gunther's again, if only to hide the moment of weakness the heartfelt words had spurred on. "Have you been spending too much time with a certain poet?" They purred into Gunther's ear, rolling their hips as much as they could with limited movement.
"I might have been working overtime in the reactor area to help fix some th - ahh~" Fingers dug into Gin's thighs, but the grip wasn't one to restrain anymore. In fact, Gunther seemed keen to add to the momentum by hoisting Gin up and down. No doubt the soldier would struggle to walk tomorrow, but that was a fitting price to pay.Â
Fuelled by the admission and the need to make tonight as memorable as possible, Gin upped the pace, finally letting himself enjoy the sensation without restraint. It didn't matter when they stopped moving as Gunther continued lifting and dropping him like an eager toy. They'd gladly stay like this, fucking Gunther as all that delicious energy sapped out of him before he died. Would that be too extreme for a date night? Probably.
It was a thought that couldn't be focused on for too long. Gunther moaned their name, gripping tight before orgasming deep into Gin's hole. Every drop would be quickly absorbed, and in return they came with a warm, clear slick that drenched the softening cock and stained the seat below them. Neither would care whether they left evidence behind.Â
Lost in the high, Gunther kept Gin close to his chest as he kissed them and murmured words of affection in the limited space between them when he pulled back for air.
Gunther would have to be returned to the ship. He would grow too tired to stay focused on anything, especially after a round of sex. But there wasn't any hurry to move, not when Gin was comfortable with that cock still buried inside him. For now, even the penchant for trouble and chaos was satiated as Gin nuzzled into the crook of Gunther's neck.
(you can pick who these are for but. i pictured both as gunther)
[Â LAKEÂ ]:Â Â Â Â Â after going skinny-dipping together, the sender and receiver proceed to have sex in a tranquil, romantic, secluded lake.
@crushng / @jumpinagain
(the other prompt will hopefully be posted tomorrow. I... Got a little carried away with it and I wanna give it a proper proof-read when it isn't bed time)
â
It had been a NIGHTMARE to get Mark to take a break. They had arrived at the planet, the first parts of the community were established and being constructed in a timely manner, and the area had been scouted to ensure prime safety and opportunity for future development.
During one of these patrols, Gunther had discovered a lake. It was hidden deep in the nearby lush woodland, but was nearly impossible to find unless you were actively searching for it. He was sure Mark would love it. It would be the perfect surprise!
Well⊠After a further three months of waiting. But it was fine! The lake was still a secret to everyone!Â
Gunther's patience paid off, and Mark finally felt comfortable enough to take a full day off. They set out with a communicator for an emergency, and the essentials to set up a temporary camp. Mark kept pointing out open areas that would be perfect to set up camp, but Gunther refused. He knew the best area, for just the two of them.
And he was right. Mark was enthralled by the sight, pulling the gear off Gunther with such a force that the larger man nearly toppled over.
"Wh-what are you doing??"
"I've been DYING to go for a swim for ages! I thought I'd have to wait for the pool to be constructed!" Mark hopped on one foot while trying to remove his boot without undoing the laces. "I'm glad you kept this a surprise. I would've ditched town ages ago!"
Gunther laughed. "I told you it'd be worth the wait." Mark was already in high spirits as he dashed toward the water, butt-naked. He shrugged and tugged his hoodie off. Why not join him?
-
The water was clear and refreshing, and was just the right temperature to not cause any discomfort upon initially stepping in. Mark was in his element as he swam half the length of the lake with Gunther. Then, as they returned to the shallow part near where the camp had been abandoned, Gunther took matters into his own handsâŠ. And splashed Mark. This prompted an offended gasp as the engineer used both hands to try and scoop up more water to throw at Gunther.
A water fight was a dangerous game when you were up against a strong man with plenty of combat experience, but it didn't stop Mark from making a valiant effort. Not even his tactic of 'dive under the water for a surprise attack' worked out as Gunther simply reached down and lifted Mark effortlessly out of the water.
"H-hey, come on! This isn't fair!" The protest was more out of embarrassment than anger. Thankfully, Gunther lowered him back into the water before further shouting occurred.
He had noticed in that moment how, somehow, all of this had made Mark erect. His uncertainty on whether he should do something about it was quashed when Mark glided through the water until both hands pressed against Gunther's chest in an act of seeking a truce.
"You know, I never realised that in refusing to take time off, I was missing out on quality time with you." Mark's hands slowly slid upward until they looped around Guntherâs neck. If we go back, I feel like our time will be cut short⊠Is this why you brought the camp?"
"Wasn't the goal to take you all the way here just for a booty call but, ah⊠Can't say I didn't hope something like this would happen."
"Always the opportunistâŠ" Mark trailed off as he tugged Gunther into a kiss. It was quick to heat up into something deeper and intense. Gunther's hands were supposed to stay on Mark's waist, but he couldn't help letting one drop down to start slowly stroking the engineer's cock. Mark whined into the taller man's mouth as his hips began to rock into the hand. The grip was firm, but not too tight to cause genuine discomfort. As Gunther dipped his head down to start trailing kisses and teasingly light bites along Mark's jawline, the engineer found he couldn't keep his composure and began thrusting fully into Gunther's hand, eager to chase the release. But just when it was in reach, all touch moved away.
"GuntherâŠ" Mark whimpered, attempting his best puppy dog eyes.
"I don't want you finishing in the lake, Mark. C'mon. I'll make it worth your while to wait just a moment longer."Â
It wasn't like Mark had a choice. Gunther had snatched both his hands to stop any chance of a sneaky finish before leading them back to dry land. It was only as they reached the camp that Mark finally pulled his hands free and dove for his jeans. When Gunther whipped around with a blanket to see what Mark was up to, he was surprised to discover the engineer holding a bottle of lube.
"I had kind of hoped our date would go like this," Mark lifted the blanket out of Gunther's arms, "And this is even better than what I was imagining."
"What was it you wanted to happen?"
"A walk, and then we spend quality time in one of our rooms." Mark spread the blanket on an even-looking part of the ground, laid down on it, and popped open the bottle. Fingers were generously coated as he began putting on a show of stretching himself out. "It would have been your room. We would have been interrupted in mine and - fuck - I've really needed this."
"Something about fucking the stress out of you?" Gunther teased, watching the performance with hungry eyes.
"Mmm, not just that. I haven't been able to get off properly. It doesn't feel right. Nothing feels - hah - feels as good as your dick. God, I was so tempted to call you to my room just to fuck me." He was already on three fingers, and attempts to take it slow and stretch had dissolved into making a spectacle of pushing his fingers in and out with a barely restrained whimper.
"Why didn't you?" Gunther snatched the bottle off the blanket and applied some lube to his hand so he could prep himself while enjoying the show.
"Because it's unprofessional! I'm the Head Engineer. I need to set a good standard -"
"What if I tell you that I would have loved that?"Â
A quiet "oh" was Mark's only response as Gunther knelt down. The hand was pulled away, only to be quickly replaced by Gunther's cock. "Ohhh fuck oh fuck Guuunnther~"
"Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere." There wouldn't be any interruptions. Gunther had turned the communicator off while they were walking to the lake. Whatever happened in the colony was none of their business, just like this was none of theirs.
The canopy of leaves absorbed most of the sounds Mark made as Gunther worked to go as deep as possible. His fingers curled into the blanket as he pleaded for more. He was already so close, and he didnât have to wait longer before an orgasm shot out of him in spurts. Eager and sensitive, Mark kept taking Gunther until he felt himself be filled with warmth before the soldier pulled out and dropped to the blanket beside him. He opened his arms, and Mark was quick to roll into the embrace, uncaring of the mess they both made.
[Â PARTYÂ ]:Â Â Â Â Â while the sender and receiver attend a party that neither of them have much interest in attending, they slip away to a quiet part of the venue to have sex together.
@fxirest-of-them-xll
I've given myself the rule of no worldbuilding for this one!
This answer is sponsored by the fact I realised too late that I could have made this an AU and I'm still kicking myself over it.
-
"Whoa, h-hey!" Damien was pushed into his office by a frustrated Attorney. Attending a party in the function room of City Hall made it a lot easier to sneak away when the required time had passed. Cleaning staff were gone, and it was a Friday night. No one would be around to catch them, and no one would miss them at the party.
They reached out and grabbed Damien by his shirt, tugging him into an aggressive kiss that he quickly submitted to. Meanwhile, their hands set to work removing the jacket and bow from the good Mayor while Damien's hands fumbled with removing their tie. They continued moving - Damien stepping backward as the Attorney pressed forward - until Damien bumped against his desk. He barely had time to register this before they continued pushing, forcing him to sit on the desk despite the sound of things dropping to the floor. This finally gave them a chance to push between his legs, working his hardening erection with one hand while grabbing a fistful of hair and tugging him into another kiss.
Damien was putty in their hands, and they both knew it. They knew precisely what buttons to press to leave Damien weak at the knees. Already, he was feeling light-headed with pleasure - probably why he was forced to sit - as he spread his legs wider.
"That's it," they praised in a whisper. The action was rewarded by them briefly squeezing Damien's bulge before pushing forward into another kiss. This time, their hands got to work unbuttoning his trousers and pulling out their cock to slowly stroke. He moaned into their mouth, trying to chase for another kiss when they broke apart, only to feel a light tug in his hair.
"Can I tell you something?" The question was asked as innocently as one might ask about the weather. When Damien nodded, they continued, "I've had a plug in me all evening, and I quite like the idea of you fucking me tonight." Damien seemed to like that idea too, judging by how he shifted to try and get more friction against their hand before they moved just out of reach and sauntered toward the couch. Damien was frozen to the spot, staring blankly as they kicked off their shoes and slipped out of everything from the waist down. Not every layer would be removed - they weren't quite comfortable with the idea of being fully naked - but it was still enough to tempt Damien over once they stretched their legs. Sure enough, there was clearly something already in place, he realised once he chambered onto the couch. They reached down to pull it out, revealing that they were stretched, lubed, and ready to take him.
"How did you last with -?"
"Why do you think we left early?" Their week had been a draining one. Having Damien slip perfectly inside them was exactly what they needed to feel better. They felt whole again, as they often did when the pair were alone. This is how things ought to be if the world didn't care so much about Damien's private life.
But none of that mattered as Damien rocked into them. He filled them perfectly. They almost didn't want this moment to end, if only for the way Damien treated them. It was too gentle and loving. Part of their mind insisted they didn't deserve it, but Damien's words assured otherwise.
"My Love," he would whisper.
"My Adored," he would murmur between kisses against their neck.
They loved him more than life itself, and they would gladly give their body to him as he saw fit. It would be moments like right now, where he was matching the pace they wanted but giving praises and words of affection between it all.
It wasn't merely having sex. This must be what it felt like to make love.
As he came and spilled deep into their waiting body, they climaxed just after him. Arms reached up to tug him close to them so they could pepper his skin with feather-light kisses.
They would both need to get up and leave eventually before they were locked in, but the couch was far too comfortable.
âYouâre so pretty like this.â + [kneel] + [mouth] for Dames đ„°
Source here
@the-actor-himself
-
âGod, youâre so pretty like thisâŠâ
-
What was supposed to be a quiet date night had quickly heated up once the pair were properly left alone in the Manor. Mark had moved to straddle Damien on the bed, kissing him with such fervour that he had long lost count of what number kiss this was. The Mayor was a mess under him. The jacket was in a ball by the door, his bowtie had been thrown somewhere out of sight and several buttons were undone to reveal a small cluster of blossoming love bites that would never be seen by the public eye. Damien's head fell back the moment Mark broke for air, already eager to lose all care for the world. Those sweet lips, already looking a little pinker than usual after the barrage of affection, were parted in a manner that tempted Mark to stop whatever he was doing and continue kissing his lover until they were both blue in the face; but Mark had a purpose to these actions.
When the pair had started acting more intimately toward each other in the living room, Mark had noticed that Damien was deliberately making no effort to take the lead. If anything, it almost seemed as though he wanted to stop thinking and let Mark do the work while Damien himself drank deep from the well of arousal. If Mark were to be honest, he would be a terrible partner if he didn't encourage this further. Damien did have a terrible week at work. With so many people relying on him and the expectations stacked unfairly high against him, it was little wonder that he wanted to turn off that brain for a little while. It was only fair that for tonight, Damien could indulge in being horny and mindless. Besides, getting to see the elegant, poised Mayor be little more than a needy, whimpering mess was always a positive in Markâs books.
Mark slipped off Damienâs lap and tugged him forward until he was sitting at the edge of the bed. Then, the actor dropped to his knees and continued on this mission before Damien could lament the lack of attention. His mouth preoccupied itself by tracing out the shape of Damienâs hardening cock through the trousers, while his eyes were fixed on Damienâs face. He wanted sweet Damien to slip into that blank mentality, of course, but he didnât want this to rush it. Tonight was more than a simple blowjob. No, it was a night all about Damien and the rewards he deserves for going above and beyond in his work and responsibilities. It was more than whatever pleasure would immediately follow. If Damien stirred later in the night, eager to go again, he should be allowed to do so. He deserved as much.
Like unravelling a ball of wool, Damienâs body loosened up as he leaned back on his elbows. His eyes were closed in bliss, while his chest was raised in a silent plea to Mark for more - and more he would get. The actor doubled his efforts, properly mouthing Damienâs cock and pressing his tongue against it to add both pressure and wet patches to the fancy trousers. Markâs name slipped out of Damienâs lips in a whine, and a devilish idea popped into Markâs mind to ensure that was one of the only words Damien would remember how to say as the night went on. He stood up and removed all clothing from the waist down before wrapping his arms around Damienâs waist and manoeuvring him to the floor. Damien was not in a position to argue, too caught up in the idea that all this moving was resulting in him losing all sense of pleasure.
âI think we can put that pretty mouth of yours to better use,â Mark purred, placing a thumb on the kneeling Mayorâs lower lip. He pushed it in a fraction, and Damien opened his mouth more without a momentâs hesitation. âThatâs it⊠Youâll look so beautiful taking me like this. But no touching yourself until I decide youâre ready. I canât have you pleasuring yourself if I canât see it.â Already, his mind was jumping ahead, imagining Damien naked on the bed, legs spread as he made a show of prepping himself for Mark in the hope that he would be fucked afterward. Damien in the present moment, however, gave a low hum in an objection, complete with furrowed eyebrows that made the sight far too cute to be taken seriously. âNow now, darling. I know itâs so hard for you to think about multi-tasking tonight, but you need to make a decision. You can either touch yourself for me, or you can take me on your knees.â
Mark had to give the Mayor credit. Damien looked torn for a full five seconds before finally making a decision and opening his mouth a little more.
âThere we go. Good boyâŠâ Moving his hand to the back of Damienâs head, Mark slowly guided his aching cock into Damienâs eager mouth, groaning at how warm it was and the sight of Damienâs eyes rolling back with need. Mark moved slowly, mindful not to gag or hurt Damien in the process of fucking his mouth. After all, he did want to hear those desperate cries later, no matter how hoarse his voice would be.
As they both settled into a rhythm that Damien could take, he reached forward to grip Markâs legs. The actor was right - it was too difficult to think of too many things tonight. It was much easier to focus on only one thing - the cock in his mouth. And after that, he wanted Mark to do all the thinking and praise him for being so very good tonight as they went through round after round of passionate lovemaking throughout the night.
â slowly breathe in and out. thatâs it. â (Wilf, rosetintedgunman. Kinda suits the idea of helping them feel grounded again?)
@tbhiamembarrassed
includes unreality, dissociation, friends with benefits, and some sappy friendship musing because I cannot write porn without having at least a page of sentimental build up apparently
The DA had heard about getting your brains fucked out, but theyâd always thought it was a figure of speech.
Though, they suppose that their situation was hardly one that would have been taken into account by whoever had coined the phrase. Their body was more of a suggestion than a defined physical thing anymore, the lingering memories of what they used to have, blurred and fuzzied by a century of isolation and wavering consciousness. They didnât even have brains anymore. Just empty space, a hollowed out doll held up by only its sheer will and spite. Some days, it felt as if even that wasnât enough anymore. Like their seams were unravelling and their pattern was falling to pieces.
Once, those feelings signalled the void to weave them back together, creeping inside their empty spaces and filling them with pre written backstory and choreography, embroidering their costume and make up, turning them into the perfect stand in for whatever role they were assigned. They didnât have to worry about anything but following the script. Until the next time they started to unravel, at least.
But now there wasnât any entity to siphon away their agony. Only the DAâs own mind, treacherous and unpredictable as it was, so often falling into pits of despair to sabotage itself, getting lost in pointless, agonising cycles of memories better left forgotten. It was so easy to let it overtake them. To become nothing more than a raw, pulsating wound, agonised and bleeding, reaching out to the familiar oblivion of the void that was always lurking nearby.
It never got easier. But there were things that helped.
Wilford was one of them. Or, most of them, really, if the DA was being technical. He was the one that had let them stay at the Roller, the safest place they could ever be, given them a job tending the bar to distract their mind, kept them from falling back into old habits... He was kind to them. Even with his eccentricities, the bubblegum pink and banana yellow extravagance, booming voice and thundering laugh, he was still capable of the quieter moments. Steadying hands covering theirs, twitching moustache hidden smiles, and eyes that saw them, really saw them, and understood what they meant when they said they felt not real. He was perhaps one of the few people who really could understand.
Oh, and he sometimes fucks them.
The DA couldnât claim to have understood how it had happened. They hadnât even thought they were capable of it anymore, given their unique circumstances, but Wilford had been willing to try, and... Well. It had been a hundred years. The DA had hardly been a Casanova in their living years, but theyâd at least known how to take care of themselves, and being stuck in the mirror hadnât exactly given them many opportunities to relive their tension. And by God, did they have tension. Wilfordâs offer had been unexpected, but accepted. Heâd seemed insistent that it would help with their other body related issues.
They hadnât expected him to be right.
But if anyone would have been able to fuck the otherwise unfuckable, they supposed it would be Wilford. His exploits across the multiverse were practically legend, and enough old flames had passed through the Roller that had been more than happy to confirm the tales, as well as some that had been less happy, and had left with a resounding slap to the bar owners face. Heâd since settled down, as he called it. But the rumours remained.
And even with such lofty standards to meet, heâd certainly not disappointed.
So it had become a semi regular thing. The DA would get jittery and start dropping glasses, sprouting too many hands, losing themselves in the haze of their own thoughts, and Wilford would gently take them aside after their shift and lead them to the little bedroom above the bar and remind them just where their body ended and began. Or, less often, but more so as of late, the DA would grab his sleeve and drag him up instead.
Itâd been one of those less rare occasions that day. Theyâd been practically tearing his clothes off before the bedroom door had even fully shut behind them, countless hands working to slide all the buttons open and unclip suspenders to get to the prize waiting underneath, and Wilford had been laughing, low and thundering against them, and itâd been good. More than good, even. Theyâd been doing this long enough that Wilford could read their bodyâs signals better than them, knowing exactly how tight his grip should be, whether he should guide their rhythm or let them set it...
And when they were pushing themselves too far, clearly.
The DA was still finding their limits. Their new not quite body was unknown to everyone, most of all themselves, and the line between catharsis and dissociation was thinner than theyâd thought. Somewhere between Wilfordâs cock pulsing and spilling inside them, his hands gripping their hips hard enough to leave bruises, and their own third, maybe fifth orgasm, the haze of pleasure had become just a haze, and then a floating static buzz, and theyâd felt nothing at all anymore.
Had he let go of them? When had he left? Had he ever been there at all? Or was this just another story? Maybe theyâd never left the mirror. Perhaps this was another delusion, a new story written by the void, so realistic that theyâd forgotten to grow wise to it. But all good things came to an end, and now it was time to get back to reality. They just need to let go. Let themselves dissolve and dissipate into the waiting void, go back to where they belong, stop kidding themselves andâ
Itâs Wilfordâs forehead bumping theirs that brings them back, his moustache tickling their nose as he speaks to them, low and soft, like heâs talking to a spooked animal. âCome back to me now, sugar. Yâhear me? Slowly breathe in and out.â
The DA tries to comply. Wilford shows them how, his chest moving slow and steady, hot breath ghosting at their not face, and it helps the, remember what having lungs was like. In, one, two, out, one, two. The world comes back into focus around them a little more with every breath. âThatâs it,â he hums, his hands moulding the spilled edges of their being back into shape. âThere we are. Back safe and sound. Good thing too; ya got any idea how hard it is to find a decent bartender on short notice?â
That has the DA laugh; or as close as they can at the moment. Itâs more like a badly tuned radio fluctuating in volume, but Wilford recognises it nonetheless. He always seems to just know what they mean, even sometimes before they do. He stays there with them for... A while. Theyâre not sure how long. Long enough that the DA settles back into their skin, only a slight echoing sensation left to remind them of their episode, and Wilfordâs soothing touch quietens it.
Sorry, they sign, not trusting their voice yet.
ââS no problem, darlinâ. Youâre still figurinâ this whole thing out, yeah?â He presses a tickling kiss to their cheek. âGotta work out the kinks, and they canât always be the fun kind.â The DA chuckles with him, velvet baritone and static fuzz. They stay there until Wilfordâs breathing goes deep and steady with sleep, and the DA mimics him for so long that they feel themselves dozing off as well. Normally the sensation would be too close to losing themselves in the void, but with Wilford snoring softly against them...
