clamp pairings

The Cardcaptor’s Brother’s Boyfriend

I have so much to say about these two.  They were probably the first gay couple I saw be treated like they were normal and safe and healthy in media, and it definitely helped me feel safer about my own queerness as a kid.  Because Cardcaptor Sakura is read by very young kids, it may be the first time a lot of kids see queer characters being treated as completely normal and sweet, and that was so intentional on the part of CLAMP.  Having a crush on your big sibling’s SO is a very relatable experience no matter which genders are involved, and I love how sweetly that was dealt with in CCS.  Would that all kids’ first crushes be as wonderful as Yukito.  

Thanks, boys, for being happy.  In every CLAMP dimension.  

(In my shop~)


「【まとめ】小狼・さくら」/「音色」のイラスト [pixiv]

These are the sixth and seventh pictures.

[Artist’s pixiv]

Punishment for a sneaky piggy Feat. Gainerboynick

I’ll never know what’s worse: my boss riding my ass (not in the way I’d prefer), or my mother sending me nagging text messages.

“Honey, when are you going to come over?”

“Xavier, why don’t you ever call?”

“Found this great gym online. Maybe you should get Nick to go every once and a while. He’s packing on some weight lately and I’m just concerned.”

Jesus Christ, if it’s not one thing it’s another. I’m just happy to be home. Crack open a cold one, put my feet up, rub my pig’s ever-growing belly.

I opened the door to my house and walked inside. I heard a weird noise, like someone was getting into something they shouldn’t. As I shut the door, the noise stopped, followed by scurrying noises. I dropped my bag and quickly walked into the kitchen to find the culprit.

My pig was eating the leftover pizza that I forbid him to eat. I caught him as he was bent over, back towards me, placing the box back into the fridge. His pants sagged a few inches, revealing his round butt and hairy ass crack.

“Excuse me, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Slowly, he stood. He pulled his pants up, fixed his shirt and turned around. Right in the middle of his chubby face was a piece of pizza crust, sticking out from his sexy lips. As I took a few steps towards him, he quickly shoved it in and chewed.

“I’m pretty fucking positive that I told you not to eat that pizza. What made you think you could disobey me?” At this point, I was an inch or two from my toned midsection rubbing against his belly. He looked afraid.

“Well, I was hungry. And you texted me saying you’d be home late and I couldn’t wait for my food.”

I was furious, and he could tell. My temperature was rising and I’m pretty sure my face was a hundred shades of red.

“I mean, I’m a growing boy. I’m not supposed to be hungry.”

That’s when the anger subsided. I started breathing normally and I felt myself calm down. I was six inches taller than him, so even calm, I’m sure the sight of me leering down at him was still intimidating.

Good. I could use that to my advantage.

I smiled, and I saw his face go from terror to confusion. I reached out my hands and placed them one the sides of his gut. It’s funny: he was a struggling gainer before I met him and managed to balloon him from 195-240 pounds of pure, jiggly fat. What’s funny is all of his fat went straight to his belly. His belly, shaped like a perfect ball, with hair all around his navel, felt so warm in my hands as I rubbed it. He seemed to calm down too, as I rubbed his empty belly.

“How many pieces did you eat before I caught you being a sneaky little piggy,” I asked him, not looking up, but continuing to rub and pat his distended belly.

“Two. Honest. Only two.”

He looked down and saw my cock begin to go hard in my pants. He reached his hand out to grab it, as was his training. Whenever he saw me go hard, no matter how empty or full his belly was, he had to suck it. But not right now.

I pushed his hand aside.

“Chair,” I said sternly. “NOW.”

His belly left my grasp as he stood straight up and walked to my office, just off the kitchen. I slowly followed behind him as he did was had been instructed to do a few times before.

First, he took off all of his clothes, except for his underwear. No matter how fat he got or how it got me off to feel his struggle to ride my dick with his new girth, the one thing that could get me hard and dripping in an instant was how his belly made the elastic of his underwear roll onto itself. That beginner ball gut could do things to me that no man ever could.

He opened a desk drawer and took out a plain red shirt, my favorite color. He put it on and stretched it down his plump frame. The shirt stopped right beneath his belly button, leaving an inch or two of exposed hairy belly flesh beneath its grasp. His nipples, so hard and tiny, looked like they could stab through the cheap fabric.

Next, he grabbed the leather straps from the drawer, then headed to my work chair. Solid wood, the finest for my piggy. Solid enough to where he shouldn’t break it. Yet.

He sat down in the chair, his belly pushing at the fabric more, leather straps on his ample lap and arms resting on the arms of the chair. I walked over, using two of the smallest straps to tie his wrists down, then tied each ankle to a chair leg. As I went to stand, I noticed his rock-hard cock in his underwear. I looked up at him and was met with a subtle smile.

           After flicking his dick and watching him flinch, I said,

           “This is not for your pleasure piggy. This is your punishment for being greedy and a sneak.” With that, I stood up and left the office.

           I opened the fridge and took out two beers. After cracking one and drinking it without stopping, I surveyed the fridge to see what I had for my piggy. I stopped calling him Nick when his pants, then a size 30, stopped fitting and we celebrated by watching him eat an entire Fudgy the Whale ice cream cake.

           Pizza, four slices left. That was an obvious. Left over pulled pork in bbq sauce. Last quarter of my birthday cake. Packet of deli turkey. A few big meatballs. Half pint of heavy cream. Oh, that can wait for later. I opened my second beer and drank it faster than the first.

           I hauled piggy’s punishment into my office and sat it on my desk, all for him to see. And oh, did he see it. His eyes practically shot out of his head. But like a good pig, he didn’t say a word. He knew what was coming.

           I stood in front of him, pizza box in hand.

           “Remember,” I said, taking a slice of meat lovers pizza out of the box and lowering it towards his mouth, “You did this to yourself.” As soon as the greasy pizza met his lips, he took a big tear into his mouth and practically swallowed it whole. He kept going for it, bite after bite until he was licking the garlic spread off the crust. I let him have it.

           He didn’t slow down for the other three slices, which we devoured with such glee. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought that he was enjoying his punishment.

           Once the pizza was gone and the box rested empty next to the chair, I let piggy suck the remaining grease from my fingers. I reached down and felt his belly. Little tight, but nowhere near full.

           Next came the pulled pork. The container was big, filled to the top. I walked next to the chair, and sat the cold container down in front of his belly. Pulling my own chair up next to him, I sat down and placed one hand on the back of his head. The other hand, lightly grazing down his fat torso to tease him, reached the bowl and scooped out a clump of the meat. I raised it to his mouth, and slammed it in. He chewed with ease, and before he could swallow, I shoved another mouthful in. By the fourth mouthful we worked out a good rhythm, which was interrupted by a sudden moan. My hand stopped midair and I looked at him, as his cheeks slowly turned pink.

           “Oh, I’m sorry, is this enjoyable to you?” I asked, scooping the pork back into the container. Fucking pigs never learn to take their punishment.

           I walked over to the desk and took out a small pair of clamps on a chain. “Maybe now you’ll learn.” The right clamp closed on his hard nipple and he squealed. I smiled. “Now that’s better,” I said clamping the second one.

           Before I could give him time to adjust to the pain, I slammed a big helping of pork into his gaping mouth. Instead of the easy-go rhythm we once had, I forced handful after handful into his mouth, giving him just enough time to swallow before more was pushed. I looked down as I force fed my pig and thought I could see his belly as it puffed out and became full.

           My hand touched the bottom of the empty container and before he could catch his breath, I put a few slices of turkey into his mouth. Had he not eaten the last of the chicken alfredo last night that would be here for him too, but I had to make do.

           The slices slowly vanished and I could tell he was getting full. His chews were slowing down and his breathing slowed. But he wasn’t going to get away that easily. Piggy had to be punished for what he did.

           I opened the package of meatballs and showed him what he would be eating next. His eyes widened in protest. My eyes rolled.

           I sat the meatball down on his lap and pulled down my shorts and underwear, revealing a hard cock and low hanging balls. “Don’t give me your defeatist bullshit piggy. You take my balls in your mouth just fine, and the meatball is smaller in size.” Realizing I was right, he took the meatball whole into his mouth. Slowly, he made his way through the last of them.

           I looked at him, his belly hard and full, the shirt risen past his navel and looked painted onto his chubby body. He had food and juices around his mouth and dripping down his chin. I lifted the cake off the desk and as I turned around to present him with his final challenge, I stopped. I had a better idea.

           Running back to the kitchen, I grabbed the heavy cream from the fridge and the carton of chocolate ice cream out of the freezer. I quickly blended it to a smooth blend and brought the mixture into the room, where piggy sat, tied down and full. Little did he know his limits, and beautiful gut, were about to get pushed even farther.

           “I have a surprise for you pigs. I was going to give it to you when you hit two hundred fifty, but I think you deserve it now.” From the closet, I produced a black rubber funnel, complete with face attachment. Though he knew he was being punished, piggy smiled, his cock hard and leaking in his tight briefs. I slowly walked over and strapped the harness to his mouth, the funnel raised high.

           “Oink oink, piggy,” I said and began to pour my concoction into the funnel. As I poured, I could see the mixture disappear from the bottom of the funnel and could hear my dear pig swallow it as it came. I bet he was getting full, but my pig is a fighter, and he kept chugging along until the entire blender was empty. I unstrapped the funnel and undid his binds.

           As I did so, he dove straight for my hard cock. I told you, when it’s hard, he sucks it. And FUCK does piggy know how to suck. He glided my eight inches with ease, slurping on my meat and groping my fat balls. I moaned and coaxed him, as my hand simply laid on the back of his head and let him show me what he could do.

           Normally I could last an hour or more before cumming. But today, knowing I fed my piggy past what he could handle, knowing that for a while his normally jiggly belly would be hard as a rock, knowing that he was mine, I was closer than I thought I would be. With a few more pumps, I was unloading shot after thick shot down my piggy’s throat, soon to meet the feast I crammed into him. As my orgasm died down, piggy looked up at me, cum dripping from his lips. I smiled, using my slowly deflating cock to guide my juices into his mouth.

           “Let me clean up, then we can shower.” I grabbed the garbage and empty blender cup and headed towards the kitchen. As I cleaned, I heard another weird noise. This time, it wasn’t the scurrying of a sneaky piggy. It sounded more like…gobbling. I slowly walked towards the door of my office, and if I wasn’t already spent and empty, what I saw would’ve had me shooting more than when I went two weeks with a jerkoff.

           There was my piggy, clad only in pre-cum soaked underwear, on his hands and knees, shoving cake into his mouth. The pains of being full obviously didn’t stop him, as he slammed handfuls of my three-layer cake into his mouth. As I walked in and watched, I saw his belly pointing straight towards the floor, bowing out with the food he ate and was still eating. His ass jutted out up in the air, and like my pig, I lost all control.

           Kneeling down behind him, I slowly shed him of his tight underwear. How had I never noticed how fat his ass had gotten? I fuck him constantly, and never did I once notice his round butt, expanding like his gut had. Without skipping a beat, I dived my tongue between those hairy fat cheeks, probing and licking his tight hole. I slapped, grabbed, and pinched his fat ass, all the while he moaned loud and stuffed his face with cake. I hardly even noticed him ferociously stroking his thick fat boy cock. I saw him shovel the last of the cake in his mouth, and felt him about to give way. I reached my cupped hand right under his cock and felt him release his hot jet of cum into it. As he turned to face me, frosting covering his mouth, for the last time, I raised my hand to feed him. He took his cum out of my hand and licked it clean.

           He leaned back and rested himself against my desk. Using his finger to clean his mouth of cake, his other hand rubbed his beyond full gut. I forgot his usual belly measurements, but is swollen gut had to be at least four, if not five extra inches around by now. And it definitely wasn’t going to shake anytime soon. He took off his nipple clamps and looked at me.

           “Now piggy,” I said to him. “What have we learned here today?”

           He smiled his pig boy grin. “Sneak pizza more often.”

Furry Encouraging

Fic Request: 
“OML OKAY I HAVE A REQUEST IDEA!! So the reader is getting rly stressed about exams (seeing as it’s that season again ;-;) and ends up having a breakdown. Chica comes in and tries to cheer the reader up with cuddles and being cute but when that doesn’t work Chica finds mark and brings him to the reader to help and fluff happens :,)) I’m so sorry this is so long :,,,,,,)” 

Originally posted by fandomqueen18

The textbooks seemed to mock you. 
Nothing you read stayed in your mind. Words became fuzzled as you tried to get some kind of information from the books. 
You were already stressed about the upcoming exams, this bullshittery was just adding to the growing plate of anxiety. 
You shoved the textbook away in a fury of frustration. Tears stung your eyes but you refused to let them fall. 
Hurriedly brushing them away and breathing in a deep sigh. 
“I’m going to do fine,” You tried to reassure yourself. “It’s just a little test.  You’ve read through everything already. You know what it is.” 
But your words fell heavy as the crushing dread your situation flooded your mind. 
A quiet sob burst from your chest, and it seemed to be the breaking point. 
Tears streamed down your cheeks and you leaned back against your bed, stifling your sniffles in your knees as you curled into a ball. 

Unbeknownst to you, a particular fluffy canine had heard you. A black nose pushed against the small crack in your closed door and squeezed into the room. 
She was rarely allowed in your bedroom. Chica only came in when Mark allowed it or you would call her as she passed the door.
She stepped quietly towards you, surprising you with her wet nose prodding your arm. 
“Oh, Chica!” You sniffled, wiping away your tears. “Hey, girl. How’d you get in here?” 
Chica sat beside you, her tail wagging gently as her left paw came up to touch your hand. She then pushed her snout into your fingers and pressed her body against yours. 
You chuckled, still wiping away the tears. “I’m alright, girl. Just stressed.” 
You scratched her nose. Chica whined when you stopped and tried wriggling under your arm. 
“Chica, not now please.” You said, a little too firmly. “I’m not in the mood, girl.” 
You felt bad when Chica’s tail stopped moving, and she lifted her head from your lap. Looking at you almost reproachfully. 
You felt even worse when she turned and trotted out of your room, tail tucked under her belly. 
You tightened your hold on your legs. You hated crying. Especially at something stupid like school-work. 
It always came down to this. You breaking down over a test. It was a vicious cycle. 

“Chica what are you doing? Let go of my pants!” 
You looked up at Chica backed up into your room. Her jaws were clamped around a loose pair of trousers, which were being worn by her adoring owner, Mark. 
“Honestly. (Y/N) do you know why-” Mark halted when he saw you on the ground. Eyes red and swollen from crying, hiccuping with quiet sobs. 
“(Y/N) what’s wrong?” He asked, moving by Chica (who had released his pants upon entering the room) and crouching beside her. “Are you ok?” 
You tried to nod, but the movement wasn’t very assuring when another burst of tears rolled down your face. 
“I-It’s just school-work.” You hiccuped, wiping your tears with your sleeve. “I-I don’t think I c-can do it? What if I fail?” 
Mark moved beside you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his side. 
“Don’t think like that,” He said softly. His arms enveloping you. “You’re smart. You’ll be able to beat this test easily. It’s just an exam, nothing you haven’t done before.” 
You shook your head, “But everything I read just-”
Mark hushed you, squeezing your shoulders. “It’s ok. Don’t worry about it now. Have a break, ok? Let’s go get something to eat, huh?” 
Mark shook your shoulders gently, rocking both of you side to side gently. As if soothing a child. 
Chica walked over Mark to get to you. Her nose pressing against your cheeks and her tail wagging madly as you stroked her head. 
“Ow, Chica that would be my dick!” Mark groaned with pain, moving Chica off his groin. Then spluttering as her tail slapped into his face. 
You couldn’t help but laugh at the scene. Hugging Chica close as Mark pushed her off him, spitting fur and wiping it off his tongue. 
He half glared at Chica, but smiled when he saw her cuddle up to you. She collapsed into your lap and you ran your fingers through her fur. 
The stress of everything seemed to disappear as you patted the loving dog. Mark stayed with you, kicking the text-book away from you with a disgusted grunt.

anonymous asked:

Hi! Love your blog. I have a character (character a) who gets shot (a lot) on a roof, then is rescued by character b who has to get them off that roof before a bomb hits. (I'm thinking BASE jump or some sort of zip line? Maybe a helicopter if need be) Uh character b is/was a doctor. How likely is A to survive transit off the roof and what does B need to do to keep them breathing? (I can get them to an ambulance and state of the art care really quick) they have 2ish minutes before the bomb hits

Why do I think this a certain Sameen Shaw rescuing John Reese at the end of the last episode of Person of Interest? 

So here’s the thing. This? This is survivable. 

I count two bullet wounds: right deltoid and right lower abdomen. Yes, this is more than enough to fell a skilled fighter like John. 

This? This is not survivable.

(screencaps courtesy of

That’s +- 90 high-powered assault rifle rounds fired at close range against a stationary target. Even assuming a miss rate of 50%, that’s 45 high-caliber bullets. That’s not survivable.

So I’m going to base this ask on somewhere in the middle. 

The big thing is going to be stopping the bleeding. Tourniquets will stop extremity bleeds, wound packing will stop torso bleeds, but the biggest thing is that the wounded character (definitely John Reese) is going to need blood products and a trauma surgeon, and he’s going to need them immediately

Wound packing is basically taking gauze and stuffing it into a wound until it’s full, then stuffing in more gauze. The idea is that the packing puts pressure on the bleeding. 

Honestly, if we’re going high-tech, REBOA is going to give the best odds of survival. REBOA is short for Resusctitative Endovascular Balloon Occlusion of the Aorta. Basically, the doc would put an arterial line into the groin of the rescued character, dilate it with a dilator, then thread a balloon catheter into the wound, get it up into the aorta, and inflate it between the last branch of the brachial artery and the first branch of the renal arteries. 

The idea looks like this, but higher up, ie, above the renal arteries:


There’s even precedent for this being done in the field; London HEMS did a REBOA in the godsdamned fucking street because they are badass motherfuckers and their motto should be Life From Above

The other option is simply cutting open his chest and putting a pair of clamps on the aorta in the desired place. Both procedures are desperate, both require sterility, and both are extremely dangerous, but they’re the only way he’ll live. 

The point is that to stop bleeding, simply pinch off the aorta as long as you can. Keep blood going up to the brain, but keep it from going down to the abdomen (where it will just bleed out.) 

Sameen is exactly the person to do this: she’s action-minded, and very very good at not letting her feelings get in the way of doing what has to be done. It takes dedication to cut your friends open. 

Look, the honest answer to this is actually a movie title…

It’s very very very very very unrealistic for John not to die at the end of this scene even if he don’t get blowed up. (And he deserves his heroic ending – he’s earned it.) But if you absolutely must save him, this is how. 

I’d like to un-thank you for making me relive the tragic ending of one of the shows I’ve held most closely to my heart for this ask. 

I have one more thought on this situation:

Let me tell you who we were…

xoxo, Aunt Scripty


Patreon: a magical land where the ask box never closes. Care to visit?  

Ebook for Free! 10 BS “Medical” Tropes that Need to Die TODAY! 

「CCさくらログ」/「なつ海」の漫画 [pixiv] [source]

It is the tenth picture.

Every Me And Every You - Twenty


That word again.

Cars were clamped, veins were clamped.

People weren’t clamped.


Apparently they were.

Spencer instructed you to lie down and you shimmied down his mattress until you were laying flat, Reid tugging open your kimono and letting it fall to your sides.

He pulled himself off his bed and disappeared into his wardrobe. Into his box of wonders, you presumed.

When he sat back on his bed, he had a few sets of metal objects in his hands.

“I know you’ve seen these and know what they are, because A, I’ve bought you some and B, I saw you handling them on that case. From the things we’ve already done, it’s fairly obvious that you enjoy having your nipples stimulated. Which is great, not all women have as much sensation in their breasts as others. I personally, am a huge fan of breasts, just so you know. I enjoy looking at them, playing with them and occasionally, coming on them.”

“Yeah….. I got the last part already, Spencer.”

He looked sheepish for a second and then shrugged, grinning at you and then holding up a pair of clamps.

“Alright so there’s a few different sorts of clamps but we’re only going to use one type tonight. We have clothes pin style” He held them up one by one. “Tweezer style, and there’s clover clamps as well. These look the scariest and more complicated, but they’re really not. They do tend to provide the most pressure though and therefore the most pain. We’re not using them tonight.”

He placed them and the tweezer set to one side.

“We’re going to use these tonight and only these. We won’t use them for long either.”

“What do I do once they’re on?”

“Well…. You’re due another two orgasm denials. So one of those will happen.”

He bought the clothes pin clamp close to you, squeezing the two ends together so you could see it in action, the rubber tips opening and closing against each other.

“These are well used, so the tension in them isn’t as much as some of the others. If you use the ones you’ve got at home, you’ll need to loosen the screw and lower the tension so they don’t clamp down too tightly. You don’t want to risk doing actual damage. That would be a crying shame.”

“Yes. Please don’t damage my nipples. I kinda like them the way they are.”

Spencer chuckled and placed the metal clamps on your tummy, the chain that joined them together cool against your skin.

“Tell me immediately if it’s too much, okay.”

“Of course.”

“Alright. We have to get your nipples ready for them. I need something to actually clamp them onto.”

His hands starting tracing a circle around the edge of your areola, stroking across the centre every few laps around. His featherlight touch and your already over sensitised body meant that you were breathing heavier within moments.

When he lowered his head and sucked one into his mouth, your hands moved to the back of his head, gripping it and holding it to your chest, a loud groan leaving you as he sucked and flicked at your now pointed nub.

“Are we gonna have number four before we even get these on?“ he mumbled, your nipple filling his mouth.

You just moaned in response, his fingers dancing across your other breast.

You were wet again already and with every lap of his tongue and stroke of his fingers, you felt a little closer to losing it.

When he tried to pull his head away, you resisted, holding him there.

“Y/N…. ”

“Please…. Please carry on…..” It felt so good and you felt so close. You pushed back with your hand, his tongue dashing out and quickly swiping over your sensitive nerve endings.

“Oh fuuuck….please.”

“Remove your hand. NOW.”

The sharpness of his tone, made your eyes which had fluttered closed, flash open again.

Fuck me.

That voice. The assertiveness, the commandeering coldness to it.

You dropped your hand immediately.

“Good girl. I thought I was going to have to add a strike for that. That’s number four I take it.”

You didn’t even have to nod, you imagined the look of frustration on your face gave it away.

Spencer shifted on the bed, swinging a leg over your stomach so that he was kneeling with a leg either side of you, his butt over your tummy.

Picking up the clamp, he took your breast into his hand. Opening the clamp up, he placed it over the nipple he’d sucked and teased to attention.

He slowly allowed the two points to close around your nipple, still keeping his fingers over the ends, not quite releasing it in full.

Your mouth opened at the pressure the two rubber tips placed on your breast, Spencer’s eyes meeting yours as he checked your reaction.

Fucking fuck.

But ohhhhh.

“Let it go,” you told him.

“You sure?”

“Yes.” He released the ends, the full force of the tension now on your nipple, biting down.

It felt so bad. But so FUCKING good at the same time. Like all your nerve endings were being crushed into oblivion.

You blinked a few times and then gasped as you felt the gentlest tug on the clamp.

“Do the other one.”

Spencer’s eyebrows raised, but he lowered his head and began sucking and flicking your other nipple. This one didn’t need as much work and he was ready to attach the other clamp within seconds.

He sat back feeling for the clamp, the metal chain tickling your skin as he dragged it across to your breast, repeating his actions. Slowly at first, he released the clamp, capturing your nipple in it, you whimpering at the sharpness you felt initially, the pain intensifying as he completely let go.

Oh god.

You could now feel a dull throb in both breasts, one that intensified as he tugged the chain again, your head lolling back against the bed.

“Do you think you can sit up if I move off you? The chain is weighted.”

You couldn’t speak right now, nodding in response instead. He slid off you gently and helped you sit up on the bed.

“In fact, can you stand up? Stand in front of me.”

Wordlessly you followed his instructions, climbing off the bed, every motion you made causing the weighted chain to pull and tug on your chest, gasps and groans catching in your throat.

Spencer swung his legs over the side, motioning for you to stand between them, running his hands up and down your sides when you did.

“How does it feel?” he asked, looking up at you, your eyes half closed.

“I… I can’t explain it.” You couldn’t, but you knew that you liked it, as much as it hurt.

Christ, how it fucking hurt.

Reid began running his hands over your body, tugging the chain every so often, gently sometimes and then harder, the pull on your nipples so intense. You had to put your hands out, onto his shoulders to steady yourself, certain the feelings you were experiencing would make your legs give way.

The throbbing was beginning to dull now, more so in the one that had been clamped for longer.

Spencer skated his fingers up your back, dragging his hands back down slowly, his short nails catching and scraping along your skin. You arched your back, thrusting your chest out and starting to pant.

“Spencer, oh fuck…..”

“One more, Y/N. And then you can come. Tug the chain yourself.”

He ran his hand down your body, resting it in between your legs, covering your wet centre. Just the heat and pressure of his hand there made you call out again, grinding against him, desperate for the friction, pleading for release.

You snaked your hand across to the cool metal chain which was swinging gently between your breasts as you ground against his palm. Gripping the links, you pulled.


“You’re so wet Y/N. So fucking wet.”

You pushed against his hand some more, the throbbing in your chest now a dull ache which you could barely feel compared to the one between your legs.

Spencer dragged his hand slowly, his whole hand swiping up and against your clit.

“Oh my god….I’m gonna… ”

“No you’re not. Not yet.”

“I want to…..”

“No. Not yet.”


“NO. Now lie back down for me okay. This might feel odd. And it will hurt. I’ll try to make it easier.”

You did as he asked and he positioned himself back on the bed, unclamping one of your nipples and immediately wrapping his mouth around it, massaging it with his tongue.

It started to tingle, the horrid feeling of pins and needles mixed with the glorious feeling of Spencer’s plump lips suckling and pursing against it.

You wriggled on the bed, squeezing your eyes shut and pulling your legs up, your knees bending and you placing your feet flat on the bed.


You bit your lip hard, the prickly feeling beginning to subside.

Spencer repeated his movements on the other breast, you banging the flat of your foot against the mattress, the feeling of the blood rushing back into your nipple making you squirm. Your chest now felt on fire, your buds aching and throbbing. It was painfully intense, but you knew if you had any kind or friction between your thighs right now, you’d come instantly.

“You okay?” Spencer asked, rolling over to your side and lying flat next to you.

“No.” You glanced over, seeing a flash of concern on his face. “I need to fucking finish Spencer.” You ground out through gritted teeth.

He smirked, lazily poking his tongue out between his lips.

“That can be arranged.”

“Then arrange it. Please.”

He unbelted his robe completely and lifted his hips, pushing down his pajama pants, his erection springing free.

“I believe there’s still an item to tick off?”


You started to shimmy down the bed, the jiggle of your boobs making your nipples pulsate again.

“Nope…. ”


“I want your lips on mine whilst you do that.”


How could you….. And do that?

Oh. That.

Fine, fine. You’d done that before. No big deal.

You climbed over his chest, one leg either side of him, his hand tugging you backwards into position, running over your thighs.

It was almost embarrassing how much just the feel of his breathing between your legs was turning you on, you were certain he’d literally just touch you once and you’d fall to pieces.

The grip he had on your thighs made it awkward for you to lean forward and you told him that.

“That’s okay. You can do me in a second. Now, you’ve been extremely good tonight, haven’t you?”

You nodded.

“Y/N. I know that you nodded because I can feel your body moving. But your pussy is blocking my view of your face. I need verbalization here. Have you been good tonight?”

Oh god, his mouth was so close to you right now.

“Yes, yes I’ve been good.”

“How good?” He tilted his head, kissing your inner thigh, his tongue drawing wet circles on your skin. You shivered.

“So good. So fucking good.”

“So tell me. Tell me you’ve been a good girl and that you want a reward. Tell me what you want AS your reward.”

Just fucking fuck me already, was what you really wanted to scream at him, dirty talk never having been your strong point. He flicked his tongue out, pressing his mouth higher before relaxing against the pillow again.

You moaned.

“Tell me Snow, or else I’ll keep you here but I won’t actually do anything aside from stare at your lips. Your glistening wet lips…… ” He blew out slowly.

“I’ve been a good girl, I deserve a reward,” you managed to choke out.

“Hmmmm?” Small kisses, butterflying high up your thighs.

“I deserve to come. Let me come.”

You could feel the tip of his nose now, touching you.


Oh my god… Just.

You leant forward, not being able to hold yourself upright any longer. You were now on all fours hovering over Spencer’s body, your hands either side of his torso. You were so close to his cock. The position was awkward, but you could do it. Carefully balancing your weight, you used one hand to start stroking his length, wrapping your fingers around it. His fingers dug into your thighs, hard. So hard you thought it might bruise. You smiled at that thought.

“Y/N. Tell me how you want me to make you come, or else I’ll keep you spread eagled on this bed all weekend, not allowing you release at all.”

“Fuck me. Fuck me with your mouth, your tongue, your finger. Anything….. ” You didn’t even think about the words leaving your mouth, that threat was too real.

Immediately you felt his tongue set to work, working your clit, licking up and down your slit, darting in and out. His long fingers slipped between your legs, joining in on the action.

“Oh shit, Spencer… Fuck that’s good.”

“As much as I love hearing you moaning, seeing as you’ve managed to get into a reasonable position I think you should put that mouth to use.”

Alrighty then.

Trying to ignore the overwhelming feeling building between your legs, you focused on his dick. Gripping it firmly with your hand, you licked a strip from base to head, using the flat of your tongue, and then swirled it over the tip, tasting the salty fluid that was already gathering.

Forming on O with your lips, you took him into your mouth, hearing him groan as you did. Creating a vacuum, you slid your lips up and down his shaft, taking him as far in to your mouth as you could without causing yourself to gag. You repeated the actions over and over, pressing your tongue against him and using your hand to follow the trail your mouth was making.

His own mouth worked away between your legs and soon the room was filled with with the sounds of moaning and panting from the both of you.

“Spencer……Spence, I can’t… Oh fuck I’m gonna….. Ugh….ah… ”

He bought you to your orgasm quickly, you needing to release him from your mouth as you came, still using your hand to pump up and down.

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

You were trembling on top of him, feeling light headed and almost ready to pass out but he kept going.

Once your first orgasm was over, you put your lips back around him as his own mouth retreated from you. You felt movement behind you, what felt like him wiping his mouth with his hand, and then his fingers slid between your legs, entering you.

Every thrust of his fingers inside you forced you to rock back and forth, you sliding his cock in and out of your lips with each of his thrusts. You could feel him twitching beneath you, his fingers curling and grazing against your g spot.

“I’m nearly there, Y/N.”

“Mmmm,” you murmured, your words vibrating down his shaft.

His other hand started teasing your clit again, you were so sure it was going to be unbearably sore tomorrow the amount of friction it had seen tonight.

“Ugh, fuuuck.” Your walls started to contract around his fingers again, a second orgasm coming so quickly after the first.

“Fuck, Y/N….. ” That was the warning you were given before hot, salty fluid erupted into your mouth, you swallowing it down quickly, ignoring the taste.

Seconds later you let out your own cries, your head now pounding as you came a second time, pulling his dick out from your lips as your body shook.

“Oh god… Oh fuck…. ” You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt every nerve in your body pulsing with feeling.

You need to lie down so you quickly rolled off him, collapsing next to him, your head still down by his hips, his hand lazily trailing up and down your legs.

“Don’t……” you begged.


“Stop touching me for a second, please. I think I’m in overload right now, my head is pounding. It hurts so much.”

It really was. It felt like there was intense pressure in your neck right now.

“Orgasm headache? Fuck, I’m sorry Y/N. I’ve only had two of those before….”

“Don’t be sorry, it was great. Fuck it was great. But…. Drink? Please?”

He climbed off the bed, pulling his bottoms back up and disappeared retuning shortly.

“Drink, and then spit.” He handed you a bottle of water and a mug for you to rinse your mouth into, to rid yourself of the salty taste. Thank god, cos you didn’t think you’d be able to walk to the bathroom anytime soon. It hurt to even open your eyes.

You rinsed your mouth out and then chugged back some more water, swallowing this time. Your heard the rustling of blister packs being popped and felt Spencer taking your wrist, pressing two pills into it.

“Advil. I don’t have anything stronger in the apartment. But hopefully it will subside with sleep.”

You hoped so too. You swallowed the pills down quickly and then turned the right way around in bed, climbing under the covers and not bothering to get dressed. You’d live with the stickiness between your thighs until tomorrow.

“Game’s over until tomorrow, just so you know.”

“Thanks,” you whispered, pulling the covers around you, trying to ignore the feeling when your arm brushed against your sensitive chest.

Spencer climbed into bed next to you and settled down, getting comfortable.

Laying his hand on your hip he spoke.

“I’ll let you sleep now Snow. We’ll talk tomorrow….. Night.”


「らくがき詰め4」/「rうい」のイラスト [pixiv]

These are the third, sixth, and seventh pictures of a set.

[Artist’s pixiv] [Artist’s Twitter] The artist appreciates any bookmarks, favorites, comments, and ratings!

anonymous asked:

Can we talk about Dean humping cas's on the floor, trying to get off as cas nonchalantly flips through his favorite channels?? Can we also talk about someone seeing them through the window??? And how cas doesn't give a fuck and tells dean to continue or he's not getting fucked tonight?? And how Dean doesn't even hesitate in following cas's orders? Can we talk about that? -Ann

We sure can talk about that. I’ve kept this inbox bc idek know how to explain how much I love this.

I’m thinking Dean under a desk while Cas is working, maybe he’s a Mafioso, or a powerful business man or an extremely influential writer or a mad scientist.

Dean is wearing his uniform (Lingerie? A slutty maid uniform? A silk robe? A sheer body stocking? A cock ring and a collar? Nothing but a pair of clamped nipples?), and he’s panting, pink cheeked and flushed, Castiel’s calf between his thighs, pressed against his aching cock as he shifts his hips, trying to keep his whines and grunts to himself.

Cas had one has stroking through his hair and the other tapping away at something on his desk that felt entirely irrelevant. A stream of people were flowing in and out of his office, asking him questions about something or other, some staying focused and some who’s eyes would flit down to where Dean’s head was resting against Castiel’s knee, breath huffing warm across the fabric of his pants.

Cas is half hard in his pants, and he has a lot to do before he can bend his boy over the desk he’s working at and fuck him silly. His hand tightens in Dean’s hair whenever his pace falters, a reminder that he’s not to stop no matter who stands in the room with them.

Lena Luthor/you fic pt. 20

Originally posted by vixenvibe

“Hey,” Kara enters the room, doing her best to hide the sadness in her eyes, and sat down beside Lena’s bed.  “They’re getting ready to put her under now.  How are you feeling?”

“Just great,” Lena rasps dryly.  

“Lena, listen.  I don’t know how to explain it, but I know she’s still in there.  I saw it in her eyes when I spoke to—“

“Don’t,” Lena interrupts.  “Kara, I can’t handle building up hope right now.  I just can’t.”

Kara’s heart breaks as she stares at the woman curled up under the blankets.  Exhaustion has marred her features and those green eyes that usually shine so brightly are as dull as Kara’s ever seen them.

“You can’t give up.”

“Why shouldn’t I?  And please, save the Supergirl bullshit speech.  She tried to kill me.  Anyone I have ever loved has either died or tried to have me killed.  So, tell me Kara; why the hell shouldn’t I give up at this point?”

“Because she’s there, Lena.  I promise you that Y/N is still in there somewhere.  I told her that she needs to fight for you and I watched tears fall from her eyes, okay?  She’s fighting for you and you need to do the same for her.”

Kara’s words come out a bit harsher than she plans, but she sees the hostile stance slip from Lena’s bones.  She knows it’s in the brunette’s nature to go cold whenever things get bad—it isn’t the first time Kara’s seen it.  That doesn’t mean it doesn’t scare her a little when it happens.  Lena isn’t meant to be cold and watching the familiar warmth in her closest friend’s smile slip is jarring.

“God, how are we supposed to move past this?” Lena whispers, more to herself than to Kara.  Nevertheless, the Kryptonite takes her hand and squeezes it tightly between her own two.

“One step at a time,” Kara sighs.


“Don’t you die on me,” Alex mutters to the body laying before her and subconsciously squeezes the gas mask in her hands.  She finds herself a little surprised to see your eyes locked on hers instead of staring straight up at the ceiling like they had been.  As she moves to put the mask over your face, they don’t waiver from her own and she sighs against the fabric covering the bottom half of her own features.

“Alright, let’s put her under,” she nods to the waiting anesthetist at the head of the operating table.  The wheel of the gas tank squeaks as he turns it and the sound is followed by the hiss of air flowing down the clear tubing and into the mask over your face.  Your eyes don’t waiver from her, even as they flutter shut.

Once she’s sure you’re out, Alex turns around to face the rest of her team and nods towards your still form.  

“Let’s get her flipped over and prepped.  We need to move fast, people.  Let’s go.”


You had never believed in out of body experiences, or souls, or really the afterlife.  But, here you are, staring at the back of your own head as Kara’s sister sliced into your neck with a scalpel.  Her hand was steady and the cut she created aligned almost perfectly with the one that had disappeared from your skin after the Kryptonian genes infiltrated your cells.  You realized that every blemish, scar, and remaining bruises on your body was probably gone as well.

“I need a retractor,” Alex set the tool in her hand to the side and waited for one of her assistants to replace it with a new device.

Not particularly wanting to see the inside of your body any further, you turned and walked unnoticed through the operating theater and out the door without needing to open it.  Ghosting through the halls wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling for you; being a criminal was a profession that required you to blend in and not turn any heads.  

You took your time going through the high-tech facility, peeking into every door you passed to try to catch a glimpse of anything familiar.  You didn’t know the layout of the area and started to think you were going in circles when you found the room you were looking for.

The room with Lena.

You stood outside, peering through the window—not ready to be in the same room with her yet, even like this.  Kara, sans Supergirl outfit, was lying beside her in the hospital bed with her arm around her shoulders.  A pang of comfort struck you, knowing that Lena would have someone if you didn’t survive this.  Kara was good for her and could protect her better than you ever had been able to.  The two of them were talking about something and you watched as Kara rubbed her shoulder lightly.  You weren’t quite sure what team the blonde played for, but perhaps she could play for Lena’s once you were gone.  They might be good for each other.

Eventually, you passed into the room.  Neither woman seemed to notice your presence as you stepped closer to the bed.  You froze when your eyes locked on the darkening bruises around Lena’s neck.  It wasn’t difficult to make out the shape of your hands in the pattern of contusions.  

“What’s happening now?” Lena’s rough voice pulled you out of your trance and you looked towards Kara; unable to keep your eyes on the other woman any longer.

“I don’t really understand most of the medical talk,” Kara admitted, but craned her ear towards the far wall.  “But, it doesn’t sound like anything’s going wrong.”

“Do you think she’ll be the same…when she wakes up?” 

“Lena,” Kara sighed and continued to rub the other woman’s shoulder, “I don’t want to sound harsh, but no.  I mean…I know I wasn’t after what happened with the red Kryptonite.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“That doesn’t matter,” the blonde shrugged.  “What mattered was that I had hurt the people I love.”

“Do you think she’ll remember it?”

“I know this isn’t optimistic, but I do.  The look in her eyes…she knows.”

“Will you be there for her, you know, when she wakes up?  I want to, but…”

“You’re scared, I understand,” Kara assures her.  You wonder whether she’ll ever be able to look at you again without fear in her eyes. 

That is, if she can even look at you.

“I’ll be wherever you need me to be.  But, Alex will fix her.  She fixes everything, trust me.”

“What about her…powers?”

“Well, to be honest, the DEO probably won’t want her out on the streets until they know she can control them.”

“You’ll help her with that?” Lena asks hopefully.  The thought of spending your days locked in the cavernous headquarters is comforting.  They can keep you from hurting anyone again; especially Lena.

“Of course.  Whatever you guys need from me, I’m here.”

Once again, Kara’s reassurance comforts you as well.  She’s a good person—one of the best you know, actually.  

“You should really get some more sleep.  I promise to wake you if I hear anything happen,” Kara tells the other woman before she can protest.  Your gaze flickers to the bruises marring Lena’s throat as Kara gets to her feet and their positions change.  Kara takes a seat in the chair next to the bed and offers her companion a comforting little smile as she settles under the white blanket covering most of her body.

You took your leave with a sick feeling in your stomach.  The marks you had left brought back crystal clear visions of what had happened at her apartment.  You wonder if this is truly what’s happening or if you psyche is just constructing an elaborate dream to punish you for what you’ve done.  


“Update on her Kryptonite level?” Alex’s eyes didn’t waiver from the open incision in front of her as she made the request.  Her hands were starting to cramp, but they still moved expertly around the half-embedded chip in your neck.  

“Dropping faster by the second.  You’ve got around 35 minutes before her cells start regenerating.”

“Damn it,” Alex muttered.  She was running out of time and reintroducing anymore Kryptonite could put you into a coma or worse.  She had to move faster.  

Her eyes widened at a sudden idea.

“Someone get me a handheld sunlamp,” she ordered.  If she could get synthetic yellow sun-rays on the damaged flesh right after tearing out the chip, your body could do the repairing for her.  Alex’s surgical team watched uncertainly as the woman clamped a pair of forceps onto the CADMUS device and wiggled it slightly in order to loosen it up.  

The door to the operating room flew open as the agent who had gone to find the lamp returned and placed it into Alex’s gloved hand.  Her heart raced as she powered it up and made sure to keep it aimed away from you.  After a second of hesitation, she pulled the chip from your neck and immediately held the lamp centimeters away from your neck.

“Her EKG is looking sporadic,” the man monitoring your brain function warned.  Alex chewed her bottom lip anxiously and cranked up the wattage on the lamp.  She eyed the many screens showing your vitals and tried to determine whether or not they were declining or improving.  Two of them had alarms going off while the other three were quiet.  After a few seconds, one turned off.  Alex turned the light onto its highest setting and said a quick prayer under her breath.  The last monitor fell silent.

“She’s stable,” Alex breathed out at last.  The surgical team surrounding her broke out into a round of applause and the corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled beneath her mask.

She had done it.

Reunion next chapter!  Let me know what you think!

Kiss Me;

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

Summary: In that moment, Hoseok realises that after all this time, she was the only thing that was consistent in his life.

Disclaimer: All the things that are mentioned in this are words of fiction aka it’s not real. I’ve literally just made this up and as always credits to @sweaterpawsjimin

Members: Hoseok from BTS x Poc Female Reader

Rating: PG

Words: 1246

Keep reading

Everything I Learned In Life, I Learned From CLAMP

1. If you’re not angsty, you should be
2. There is no such thing as coincidence.
3. Evil takes the form of four Japanese mangaka.
4. Everything’s better in alternate universes.
5. If you’re precious to your brother, you’re probably doomed.
6. Actually, if you’re precious to anyone, you’re doomed.
7. In fact, you’re probably just doomed anyways.
8. Treasure your eyes. You never know when they’ll be taken away.
9. Subtext really does equal buttsex.
10. Everything has a price.
11. The most powerful people are alcoholics.
12. Never trust the bunny/pork bun.
13. True love always prevails. Usually.
14. Love comes in all forms.
15. At least you’re not Subaru.
16. Nothing says love like agreeing to be somebody’s primary food source.
17. If someone comments on your eyes being pretty, you will probably lose them several chapters later.
18. Even if you and your beloved are a canon couple, by the end, you still won’t have kissed.
19. Even in other series, you still will not kiss.
20. If your grandparents are constantly on vacation, they most likely don’t exist.
21. Never carry your most treasured item around with you.
22. Everybody has an evil twin.
23. Tokyo Tower is, more than likely, the source of all evil.
24. If you’re good-looking, you’re doomed or angsty. Probably both.
25. Don’t expect to live a happy life. You’ll only be disappointed.
26. The more they smile, the harder they fall.
27. Your fan base is directly proportional to how angsty you are.
28. Everyone is pretty, even when bleeding or in agony.
29. Torture and mind games are just another way of showing you care.
30. Your boss is bad for you. 31. The world is split into three genders: male, female and androgynous. 32. Blood is aesthetic.
33. It’s not real magic unless you can conjure a two-meter-wide magic circle.
34. Flat strips of paper can reach the same speed as an F1 race car.
35. Fire doesn’t burn unless the plot requires it to.
36. No matter how ripped your shirt gets, it’s not coming off.
37. Men with black hair and glasses (including sunglasses) cannot be trusted.
38. Anyone who says having magic powers is cool could not have been more wrong.
39. It’s possible to store two swords and enough clothing for four people inside the mouth of a bunny/pork bun.
40. Who wears short shorts? Little boy detectives wear short shorts!
41. Four leaf clovers aren’t as lucky as they’re made out to be.
42. If you’re a fan favourite you’re doomed.
43. Hell, you’re in a CLAMP anime. You’re doomed.
44. Remember your dreams- they’re the key to the plot.
45. If you can’t whistle, “hyuu” instead.
46. If you feel someone’s watching you, they probably are.
47. If he’s tall, dark and handsome, he’s taken- by the outrageously cute boy standing next to him.
48. Feathers have the ultimate power. Buy a chicken.
49. If your series is happy sugar-coated fairies and gay, you will most likely all die a horrible death at the hand of a psychotic clone.
50. Everything will be alright.
51. Just because you return from a journey, doesn’t mean you’ll return in one piece.
52. Everything happens in Tokyo.
53. Cute stuffed animals make the best magical servants.
54. Swords longer than your height are easy to manage.
55. Attack names/chants are more important than actual skill or experience.
56. Cherry blossoms are a sign of good luck.
57. Cherry blossoms are a sign of bad luck.
58. Cherry blossoms are- sod that, if you see cherry blossoms, run.
59. Even after your heart is pierced by someone’s hand, you will still have plenty of time to divulge deep dark secrets/words of wisdom/angst/last words before you actually die.
60. Show your true love not by exchanging rings, but eyes.
61. No one is really happy. They’re just hiding some dark secret.
62. Dressing someone up in cute but outlandish outfits is a sign of great love and affection.
63. The easiest way to solve a love triangle is to kill somebody.
64. Inanimate objects have feelings.
65. Eyes, especially magic ones, are in high demand.
66. Cosplay is completely normal in Tokyo.
67. Love your parents while you can.
68. The general public is oblivious to strange/supernatural/inexplicable/mysterious events/people/objects.
69. Don’t give your name to strangers.
70. Wherever you are, there is a Miyuki somewhere in the background.
71. Apparently, magic allows you to eat other people’s eyes like candy.
72. Walking between a fence and a lamp-post will send you to another time/dimension.
73. Never trust shop owners. 74. If you have a twin/clone/someone who looks like you, most likely one of you will die before the series is over.
75. It’s all fun and games till someone loses an eye- then it’s a pairing.

Credit: If you know who wrote these all up I’d love to know! I’ve just seen it around 

My brother asked me to explain BL pairs.

I told him there’s the man role and the one who’s in the woman role. I told him either of them could have short or long hair. I told him, that’s generally it.

He said to me, “Whut. That’s it? No specifications like yandere and stuff?”

Me: Isn’t that general in all pairs? Not specified to BL only. But if you want specifications, look at Clamp’s subtle BL. They have a trademark.

Bro: ?

My brother, btw, does not believe that Touya and Yukito is an item. He denies them strongly.

Me: Well, one of them will lose an eye, with exception of Touya and Yuki. Definitely. Look at XXXholic. Someone lost an eye right?

Bro: Watanuki.

Me: Then there’s this Tokyo Babylon (bro didn’t read that), someone lost an eye too.

Bro*covers face with hand, I dunno why*: … 

Me (on a roll): Now, how about Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles? Who lost his eye?

Bro: Well, Fai lost an eye for Kurogane.



Bro: Oh.