#filthy tag

[captainswhore]

you see price sitting like this when you walk into a room post mission- and you know exactly what it is he needs.

he's licking at you and holding your thighs open with his rough palms- and you can't take it. his calluses and his beard and the fabric of his sleeves are rubbing at your legs just right- but not enough for you to lose focus on his hot tongue rubbing on you and in you and you've never been wetter in your LIFE.

his only problem? you're still moving too much. he can't reach where he wants to inside of you because you keep wiggling out of his way. his hands want to touch you everywhere- not just hold your thighs still. this is when he begins to squeeze at you everywhere, and tell you to rest your thighs on his shoulders.

"b-but price- hhnngh ohmygod- i c-can't. they're too big. thighs are too big"

you whine at the loss of contact, but then you look down and see him staring at you with massive pupils and a wet face. "lovie- my shoulders are broad for a reason. rest your thighs on em and i swear they'll have enough room"

and you listen, and you're crushing his ears with your thighs, and he's never been happier. the next time you look down? he's rutting into the mattress and you see his hips stutter when he groans into you and your vision goes white

(@chamomiletealeaf and i had SUCH A HORNY discussion about this and she told me to post it so here i am- and also omg photo creds to her. we've gotta reign it in lmfao)

[kensatou]

is it hockey or is it only fans (audio on)

[al8estos]

I keep forgetting to post here augh. Anyways, le spy

[vampsickle]

visual links: starring JASON TODD & DICK GRAYSON.

( warning: it’s basically just p * rn. 🤗 )

- this with dick grayson. ♡

- this with jason todd. ♡

- this with jason todd. ♡

- this with dick grayson. ♡

- this with jason todd. ♡

- this with dick grayson. ♡

- this with jason todd. ♡

- this with jason todd. ♡

- this with dick grayson. ♡

- this with jason todd. ♡

- this with dick grayson. ♡

- this with dick grayson. ♡

- this with jason todd. ♡

- this with jason todd. ♡

[sepherinaspoppies]

Temporary Fix- Martin x Reader

summary: Martin is desperate to feel something. Anything. Rest? Relief? Sleep? Pleasure? Then he meets you, who can assure him that he will feel all of what he seeks.

warnings: drug use, hair pulling, handjob, ball play?, face riding, sub martin, dom reader, clit piercing stimulation, praise, orgasm denial, unprotected p in v, (please don’t be silly wrap that willy), surprise at the end!

wc: 4,675

click here to be added to my general taglist

divider by @saradika-graphics

masterlist

notes: im so sorry this took a long ass time, family problems and I just moved back to Mexico so ive been busy lol.

For weeks, perhaps months, his body was aching. Tension had built up around his lower back, feeling like pins and needles stabbing the muscles of his back. Soon after, those aches and pains shifted over to his chest, and it felt like a heavy weight that couldn’t be shaken away, making it difficult for him to breathe.

Especially late at night. 

Which prompted him to consume one of his mum’s low dosage of Ibuprofen. While the effects of the pill worked, it only lasted about an hour or two the most. Eventually his mum caught on the missing pills, but luckily his mum believed the little white lie he told, excusing it as his sister’s behavior. 

With nothing to dull the never-ending sensation, he needed desperately to find relief elsewhere.  

And that’s how he met you. 

Out of all the places in town, he’d never assumed to meet a drug dealer in an open field, sitting by the train tracks, staring into the distance, with a cigarette in one hand and a lollipop in the other.  

“I have hypoglycemia.” You informed as you turned around. 

It is then when he took in the rest of your appearance. Your eyes were dark, smudged by black eyeliner and eyeshadow. Silver glitter cascading down your cheeks, giving the illusion of tears.  On top of your left brow, two little studs of a piercing decorated your skin. And below that piercing were two other piercings, a septum and a lip ring. 

He tried to picture you without the dark makeup and piercings, somehow he couldn’t. It suited you.  

You wore a t-shirt of one of his favorite bands, Black Sabbath. Paired up with a black tennis skirt and fishnets that accentuated the length of your legs. Truly, you were beautiful. 

“What’s that?” He asked you, off topic, taking a few steps towards you.

You exhaled a cloud of smoke, then dragged your tongue around the sweet. “Low blood sugar. When my sugar levels drop below a certain level, I faint.” He nods his head, noticing another silver piercing on the tip of your tongue. 

Hot. 

He wondered what other piercings you hid underneath your clothes, he had a feeling the facial piercings were not the only piercings you had. 

His ocean blue eyes continued to stare at you, assessing if you were who his mate had referred him to. “You’re Tommy?” He asked. 

You threw your head back in a laugh. “No, that’s my brother’s name. I strictly use it for business.” You kicked the grass that stuck to your boots as you stood up, getting ready for the usual business exchange. “Most people don’t buy drugs from girls.” Though, you didn’t know why. You were great at not getting caught. No one had suspected a thing when you had done a deal next to a policeman. 

“Would you have come if you knew I was a girl?” You questioned. 

“Fair point.” His lips pulled into a faint smirk. “So, what’s your name?” 

You placed your cherry flavored lollipop back into your mouth, hiding the amusement from his view. There was no denying that the guy in front of you was attractive. Judging by his looks alone, he fit right into the description of guys whom you considered your type. 

His long black hair reminded you of Eric Draven, from the Crow. He was tall and lean, similar to the fictional character you had posters on your bedroom walls. But it was his eyes that pulled you in. Which was a shame, you strictly forbade yourself to not date any of your clients. If you’d call them that. 

The last time you did, he left you panicked and traumatized. You have learned your lesson since then. 

“Will, said you need some sedatives. I have some bars; aka Xanax.” You shake the translucent orange bottle of white bars from your pocket. “They’re legit. They work. But it’ll cost you two hundred quid.” 

His eyes almost bulged out of their sockets at the said price. He carried only a hundred in his wallet and a fifty that his mum gave him for groceries. 

Fuck!

His reaction caused you to narrow your eyes, “Fine, one-eighty quid.” You negotiated, putting on your best serious and business face. 

That, however, doesn’t deter him. “One-twenty.” 

You scoff loudly. You were generous by giving him a twenty percent discount, and he wants more?

The nerve of this guy!

“One-sixty.” You counteroffer. 

“One-fifty.” 

“Done.” You reply as you both are quick to exchange goods. Immediately so, you begin to count the money in case of any scams the dark brunette might throw your way. After all, you barely met the guy. 

“Is this…chocolate?” Martin asked, a little taken back that you managed to slip a small Butterfingers next to the translucent bottle. 

Is it normal for drug dealers to provide chocolate to their clients?

He wouldn’t know. Though, the last time Martin bought drugs was with one of his mates, behind a very smelly bin next to a seafood restaurant. Not once did that sketchy, and yet very creepy, dealer gave them a sweet after their transaction. 

He hears you chuckle, a playful look on your pretty face. “I carry candy with me wherever I go. That’s for you. You look like you could use it.” 

“What if you faint?” He stops before you have the chance to walk away.

“Don't worry, I won’t.” You smile, using the heart shaped lollipop to wave him goodbye. 

His eyes watch you walk away, and his breath hitches when a small breeze lifts the back of your skirt, giving him a delicious eyeful of what was underneath. 

-

As soon as his bedroom door closes, Martin begins to inspect the bottle you’d given him. He wondered how many of the little bars he could take. He knew, of course, not the whole thing. His mum would scream at his overdosed corpse and probably descend into madness. 

So it was safe to say, he only took one.

It dissolved on his tongue almost instantly, and about an hour later or so the effects started to kick in. 

The waves of anxiety and the aches and pains Martin usually got during this hour never came. He felt at peace; calm as he stared into the silver glow of moonlight out of his window.

A heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders and for the first time in months Martin finally fell asleep quite comfortably. 

-

This exchange between you and Martin went on for about two more months, meeting at the field exchanging goods and Martin usually attempting to ask you out, only for you to deny him every time. 

Eventually, Martin got the hint and no longer hit on you, much to your disappointment. Not only that, you started seeing him less and less as he only met you once every two weeks. Regularly seeing you every week. 

Maybe you were a little harsh for not giving him a chance. 

But you reckon that wasn’t the case as he would’ve completely cut ties with you. 

There must have been something else on his mind or perhaps his work life got the best of him; which was good. 

You wished nothing but the best. 

After contemplating on whether to call or not call Martin, you decided to instead shoot a message to your shared friend, Will. He informed you that he hadn’t seen him around or heard from him in some days. Which was odd since they were best mates, often talking about random shit (including you but Will would never tell you). 

Will you make sure he’s alright? You texted. 

Can’t. I’m staying over at my girlfriend’s. But since you care about your best customer, go ahead and pay him a visit ;)

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you could hear Will’s tantalizing voice inside your head.

Stupid wanker. You thought as you typed Martin’s address on your phone. 

It wasn’t that far from your apartment, only a couple of streets over that was doable by walking. 

Though, Will mentioned for you to sneak through the upstair’s window as he lived with his parents. You were thankful you wore good shoes fit for the climb but not a good enough outfit as you reckon anyone passing by would get an eyeful of your ass. 

Martin laid on his bed, playing with what looked to be a miniature helicopter. Although you couldn’t hear what he was saying you still found the act a little funny. 

“Martin!” You knocked through the window, not too loud and just for him to hear. You watch as he jolts a little, his face showing a mixture of fear and confusion once his eyes settle on you. 

Instantly, he sets his toy aside and runs to you, opening the window and helping you up. You mutter a breathless ‘thanks’ which makes Martin nod. “What are you doing here?” He asks, a bit surprised by your random presence in his room. 

“Oh, I- wait, what happened to your face?!” You exclaimed, panic rooting deep in your stomach. Martin turned his head away but you weren’t having that. You softly placed your hands to the sides of his cheeks, examining the markings on his face. 

The bruises on his nose and lip were fresh, probably from a few hours or so ago.

“It’s nothing, really.” Martin murmured, attempting yet again to push your grasp. “It doesn’t look like it!” You say, keeping a firm hold on both sides of his cheeks. If you weren’t so concerned about the cuts and bruises, you would’ve taken your time in appreciating how soft and smooth his cheeks were. 

“Why do you care?” He murmured very quietly under his breath as his eyes no longer met yours. 

It was a good question, why did you care? You weren’t this… caring for your other clients. You had your regulars, most of them coming and going. Not once did you bother to think about them, caring only for the cash that kept you well-fed and alive. 

You knew something about Martin was different from the others. Yet, you had a hard time deciphering the answer to his question. 

Why did you care?

“I don’t know. I just know I do.” You sighed, taking a seat right next to him. A long comfortable silence followed between you two, and you took your time to inspect the details around the perimeter of his bedroom. 

A few posters were scattered on his walls, some of them were a few bands such as Nirvana, The Smiths, and one of your personal favorites: Oasis. The other posters seemed to be art pieces done by himself as the various kinds of paint brushes and the smeared paint on the surface of his desk proved it. 

He was an artist. 

Far left towards a desk sat a large terrarium made for a reptile that you couldn’t see. You wanted to giggle at the miniature couch and bed Martin made for the little fellow, it was cute and you could tell how much he cared about his pet. 

“Why did you come?” Martin finally spoke, although faint. 

“Honestly?” You clear your throat as you shift your feet awkwardly, “I hadn’t seen you in a while; I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Not because of the drugs?” He asks. 

You tried to conceal a smile at the mirthful tone of his voice. “No…” 

His eyes narrow at you and you swore you saw a hint of something playful in his features before he shifted his body to face you. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Fine. Yes, also because of the drugs but mostly because… I- I cared for your well being.” 

Oh God. 

Heat expands around Martin’s face, and he was glad that there was barely any light for you to see. “I’m sort of alright,” he shrugs. Martin has been better, definitely when the drugs did their job. 

Your head tilts to the side at the ‘sort of’. “Sort of? Are you not taking them anymore?” Martin shakes his head.

“I don’t like ‘em anymore. Couldn’t feel anything. Nothing.” Martin did not understand why. The first couple of weeks went fine without any trouble or problems. He had become more productive than he’d ever been, from helping his mum and his little sister with chores and homework to picking up extra shifts (which was totally unlike him). 

Then about two weeks ago, everything changed. Martin walked to a new coffee shop when someone— his ex-girlfriend of two years— had accidentally bumped into him as she walked out, spilling hot coffee on his chest and hands. 

Normally, one would wince and possibly shriek at the burning sensation, but not him. He smiled at Lydia as she stammered apologies, not feeling the harsh burns on his skin. 

As an apology, Lydia had agreed to go out for dinner at their favorite restaurant when they were still together. 

They had a good time, catching up about their work, family, and friends. Martin learned new things about her he didn’t even know when they dated. After a few pints and cigarettes, Lydia brought him over to her apartment, where they both stripped each other’s clothes off instantly. 

But along the good, comes bad.

Martin had her on all fours, her cunt glistening with so much of her arousal, needy and ready for him. To his horror, Martin’s dick couldn’t seem to get hard. No matter how many times he fisted himself, his dick was unresponsive. 

Discomfited, Martin practically ran out without an explanation. Dick move, he knows. 

Since then, Martin figured the drug was the cause for his insensitivity. So he stopped altogether. 

“Glad to know I wasn’t the only one,” you slump down Martin’s bed once he finishes explaining. Martin furrows his brows in confusion but soon begins to puzzle the pieces. “So those were your pills?” He recalled that moment when he saw faint letters of a name, your name, printed on the bottle. It was a prescription. Your prescription. 

“Yea, it was to help with my panic attacks,” you explain. Though, carefully not to give too much of your personal information. “While it helped, it also made me insensitive.” At that, Martin sat up straighter attentively listening to you.

“That’s why I got all these tattoos and piercings, I hoped I could feel the pain of the needle as it went right in.” You could still recall the piercer’s shocked expression when you exhibited no look of pain. You confirmed that you weren’t intoxicated and signed a waiver that everyone signs. Yet the piercer had counted to three with every piercing, and not once did you flinch.

Martin glanced up at the piercings on your face, “Did you?” He asked. You shook your head, moving your arms around, to show Martin the many tattoos. He thought of you brave for not even flinching at something so painful. As much as he appreciated tattoos, he would never get one on himself. The thought of needles made Martin a bit light headed. 

“Are these the only tattoos you have?” 

“No, I have more.” If your parents were still alive, they’d go crazy at the amount of tattoos you had. 

“May I see?” 

Your other tattoos and piercings were located in a more private area on your body, and you would’ve said no. But it was the ‘may I’ that made you agree. 

Your fingers lifted the hem of your oversized t-shirt, neatly placing it next to you on the bed. You move your hair to the side, granting him more access and the art that took hours to create on your body. 

Martin sat amazed, especially at one tattoo in particular. A long branch of wild flowers started between your clothed breasts, going down your hip and finally wrapping around your thigh. It was beautiful that he did not notice the belly button piercing just sitting below it. 

The art piece was precise, fully detailed as possible that Martin knew it must've taken you multiple sessions to finish. 

Inadvertently, Martin’s fingers start to trace one of the flowers, following the pattern down and down causing you to hitch your breath at the near proximity of where they were going. 

“Beautiful,” Martin compliments under his breath. Your skin was so soft that he had no desire to take his hands away. 

And you didn’t want him to either. You wanted Martin to continue exploring every inch of your body for his touch was feather-like and gentle, sparking something within you. 

Martin looks at you and your eyes are warm and relaxed. His fingers suddenly halt at your inner thigh, right where the branch ends. “You want me to keep going?” He whispers, moving closer towards you, his hands ready to remove the unnecessary clothing until you said that one word of consent. 

You licked your lips, feeling the heat from his body coming closer and forward. His lips were only a breath away from yours, awaiting an answer from you. 

“Yes,” you whispered back, your head tilting upwards as you brushed your lips with his. The hand that he used earlier, grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you swiftly to close the small gap. 

Your lips were just as he imagined them to be, perhaps even better as he pulled you by your underarms and sat you right on his lap, where you gasped at the hardness of his length pressing against your abdomen, feeling every solid inch of himself. 

And there was plenty of him. 

You continued to chase his lips, never once pausing for required air. The kiss was full of want and need that made you feel like a puddle on his arms. Shivers went down Martin’s back at the cooling sensation of your tongue piercing colliding with his own. Only then, he began to imagine what that piercing would feel like on his cock, resting right there on the bulbous tip where you would swallow every single drop of his come. 

In his desperation, Martin’s hands went to unclasp your bra, only for you to tut at him, placing his hands on back on his sides. “No touching, I call the shots here.” You scolded him as if he were a little boy. 

Martin’s jaw dropped at your dominant tone, not that he was complaining.

“Do you wanna feel with me?” You whispered, trailing your hands up and down his chest, now that you got rid of his shirt, admiring the light brown sprinkles of hair. His pectoral muscles flexing against your delicate touch.  

He nodded vehemently— desperately, blue eyes staring at your cherry pink lips. “I wanna feel everything with you.” It was a want and a need right now. 

“Take off your shorts,” he did as you commanded and you swore your insides clenched at the mouth watering view, “d-do not move or come until I tell you to. Understand?” You asked, keeping composure. 

You sat behind him immediately after he said yes. A part of Martin was a bit confused on what you had planned for him but another part of him found the mystery of it all quite exciting. And he was right, his hips jolted forward as soon as your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing so wonderfully.

Martin moaned as you gave open mouthed kisses all around his neck before your teeth grazed around the sensitive skin, marking what was yours. You did the same to the other side until you were satisfied and skin covered with love bites you wanted everyone to see outside his bedroom walls. 

With the same hand, you slowly began to stroke his cock, pulling the foreskin up and down, your thumb resting at his baby pink tip, admiring the way it twitched with more of his arousal. Your other hand, reached to cup his balls, giving them a good squeeze. Combined, made Martin see stars. 

“Oh…fuck,” he stuttered, feeling his end approaching. 

You smirked, stroking his pretty cock faster. “If you come, I’ll punish you. And you won’t like it when I do, baby. I won’t show you any mercy.” The last guy you punished ended up passing out within seconds, and as much as you wanted to punish Martin, you needed him. Needed his cock inside you. 

A part of him was intrigued at what you’d do, but Martin chose not to awaken that side of you. He wanted to be good so that he’d earn his reward. His release.

You watched as Martin kept control of his breathing, his hands fisting the sheets impossibly tight. Meanwhile you found yourself growing wetter and wetter at the little whines he let out. 

This went about a few more minutes until Martin ran out of things to think about to not come. From his grandmother to his best mate, Will. While it worked, the need to release screamed louder with each fast stroke. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck! Please, I can't-can't hold it much longer!" Martin whined, as heat settled in his gut with each involuntary thrust up.

You grabbed his jaw to face you, noticing a few tears streaming down his flushed cheeks. You slowly swirled your thumb at the wet slit, causing Martin to sob loudly. “Aw, you wanna come?” You cooed, biting his earlobe not too harshly. 

“Yes! Yes! Please! I beg you, I- I- need it!” Any more of your teasing, Martin was sure his dick would fall right off. “Please!” He begged yet again, his pretty blue eyes full of want and need. 

When you finally were going to grant his release, he did the unexpected and touched you. Using your hand to stroke his cock at a much faster pace. Then Martin released a long moan of your name as ropes of his come gushed on his lower belly and your hand. 

Finally, he came. 

Just as he relaxed in your arms, he sat back up frozen in fear over what he had done. 

“Did I say you could come?” You questioned, with an angry and dangerous tone. “I’m sorry–” Martin tried to apologize, holding your hand to prevent you from leaving. But you weren’t having it. Those sweet puppy eyes wouldn’t work on you anymore. 

“Only good boys deserve to come. And since you were bad, you don’t get to come anymore–”

“But I am your good boy. I won’t do it again, I promise.” The dark haired brunette pleaded, caressing his head with your hand. “Please, I'll be so good to you.” 

“Then prove to me how much of a good boy you really are, Martin.” His hands automatically shift you down the bed, ripping your fishnets right down the center of where he truly wanted to show you how good he was. 

“No, I wanna sit on your face.” You briefly told him and Martin’s eyes widened with interest. 

“Can you keep this on?” Martin pointed at your fishnets. 

You agreed. 

With great enthusiasm, Martin lays on the bed, ready to use his tongue on you. He hoped he wouldn’t disappoint you, never once did he receive a complaint about his head game. However, in those experiences he was the one in charge. Now, Martin was about to unlock a new experience he was set on trying for years. 

After you rid yourself of your bra, you hurriedly crawled your way to Martin’s face, setting your knees on both sides of his face. Martin’s eyes darkened, not only at your heart shaped nipple piercings on both of your breasts, but the piercing over the small hood on top of your sex. 

A clit piercing. 

“Be a good boy,” you instructed before you lowered yourself on his mouth. Your hands gripped the metal bed frame for leverage as you slowly grind your cunt, back and forth. 

Martin hummed, in total bliss at the taste of your sweet slick that was coating his face. You moan loudly as he moves his nose against your piercing, sending shocks of pleasure to your spine. His tongue feasts on you, licking the seam of your folds with each of your grinds. 

You press your core closer to his face, unconcerned if Martin could breathe; not that he minded. It was a good way to die, though. And your jaw drops open with multiple breathless moans, once his tongue made its way inside your entrance, licking inside your quivering walls. 

Martin’s eyes stared at you as you were lost in complete pleasure, you truly looked devine sitting on his face. He could come on just this alone, but he didn’t want to risk another punishment from you. Martin was set on being your good boy, so for now he had to follow your instructions. 

“Yes, that’s it!” You rip one of your hands from the headboard and dig them into his hair, guiding him where you want him, as you are getting closer to that cliff of euphoria. Martin happily goes where you want him. 

When you guide his head towards your bud, Martin moves his nose at a much faster speed. When you guide his head lower, Martin sucks and licks at your entrance vigorously. 

“S-so good!” You praise and it took everything in Martin to not come. 

Martin moans. The vibrations alone cause your thighs to shake and release multiple broken moans as that tight coil at the pit of your stomach finally snapped, triggering your release. 

“Oh fuck, Martin!” You shout, pinching your hardened nipple for extra stimulation. 

Martin laps every gush of your sweetness, licking you clean through your orgasm. He watches as the apple of your cheeks flush bright red, and your eyes flutter rapidly in what he thinks is bliss. 

“I’m too sensitive now,” you whined as you laid down next to Martin, basking in the aftershocks of your orgasm.  

Martin frowns, he wanted to make you come another round, this time–with your permission– he’d use his fingers. 

“Did I do good?” Martin asks as he lays on his side to face you. 

“Perfect.” 

“Do I get a reward?”

You throw your head back and laugh. “No.” You say as you straddle his hips, and Martin hisses when you grip the base of his cock, running the swollen head around your pussy, gathering wetness before you slid down. 

Martin’s eyes roll in the back of his head over the smugness and warmth of your tight walls clamping down at him. The feeling of you was indescribable, heavenly; and he couldn’t do anything but groan and grip tightly at his sheets, desperately wanting you to move. 

Once you adjusted to his overly girthy length, you began to grind your hips at an angle where you could feel the head of his cock kissing your cervix and hitting that special spot inside of you that had you cross-eyed. 

Fuck he was big. 

“I won’t be able to last much longer,” Martin warns, gasping at every clench you give. 

“Don’t you fucking dare, Martin.” You snaked your fingers down your bud, circling your pierced clit before you came once again with a loud whine so unlike you. 

However your eyes, in which you didn’t realize were closed, shot open as you felt Martin’s cock pulsate and instantly separated yourself from him causing him to whimper over the loss of contact. 

“Please! I need-want to come inside of you!” He cried, chasing his hips towards your pussy. 

You denied him that and started again. 

Every round Martin was close to coming, you detach yourself from him. Until your hips became somewhat sluggish, Martin took you by surprise and threw you at the end of his bed, mounting you from behind. You were at a loss for words as he slid inside of you without warning, giving hard, fast, and needy thrusts. 

“Be a good girl and take what I give you,” Martin mumbles as he grips the roots of your hair, forcing your head to look at him. “You don’t get to come anymore. Do you understand?”

You have no choice but to oblige.

[beefcakekinard]

pulling someone in by the waist please??? 💜💜

28. pulling someone in by the waist

Spread out on the sheets in front of him, Evan is a vision in pink.

Against the white cotton, his skin takes on a rosy tint, glowing warm and vivid with the blood pumping steadily through his veins. The scars on his leg shine pearlescent, peeking out from under a veil of dark hairs. Tommy's eyes travel up each of Evan's legs, over his bent knees, up to his inner thighs where healing hickeys bloom in carnation. Tommy smiles at the memory of leaving them there, two days ago. They beg for refreshing.

Tommy's eyes linger next on Evan's cock, the rouge that deepens and deepens at the tip where it rests against the swell of Evan's stomach. He forces his gaze higher, to Evan's dusky nipples, the bright cherry flush of arousal that starts on his chest and seeps up his throat, over his cheeks and his ears. Evan's orchid-petal lips part on an exhale and Tommy aches to touch them. He looks at Evan's mulberry-sweet birthmark and can almost taste his skin.

"See something you like?" Evan asks, his lips curling into a grin. Tommy slips his hands to cup Evan's calves and relishes his living heat.

"You're beautiful," he confesses, and he'd say it a thousand times for how it makes Evan's blush deepen.

"C'mere," Evan beckons. Tommy can't deny him.

He leans over Evan's body, holding himself up by his forearms on either side of Evan's face, scarcely allowing their skin to touch as he presses their lips together. Evan sighs into Tommy's mouth, wraps his arms around Tommy's shoulders and his long, long legs around Tommy's waist; he pulls Tommy down against him until Tommy covers him like a blanket, miles of skin on skin that Tommy could get drunk off of.

"Are you gonna fuck me or what?" Evan asks. He rolls his hips up, grinds their cocks together, and pleasure pulses deep in the pit of Tommy's stomach. Tommy kisses down Evan's neck as Evan continues to grind against his stomach; he nips at Evan's skin right where he knows he's sensitive, relishes the gasp this pulls from him, then sits back up. He immediately misses the heat of Evan's body, and Evan reaches to pull him back in.

Then he says, "Turn over," and Evan gives him a cheeky grin. He complies, settling on his hands and knees in front of Tommy.

Tommy grabs the lube and slicks himself up, slips two fingers into Evan, easy as anything, making sure he's still ready from earlier. Evan groans when he crooks his fingers and rubs gentle circles into his prostate. He waits until Evan starts rocking his hips into the motion to pull his fingers out and wipe his wet hand against the sheets.

"You're gonna kill me," Evan mumbles.

Tommy chuckles. "What a way to go, huh?" He kisses the arch of Evan's spine and leans in close to his ear, where he murmurs, "You ready, baby?"

"I've been ready, Tommy, please."

Tommy pulls back again then shuffles closer on his knees. He wraps his hands around either side of Evan's waist and settles them into the position he wants, with his dick pressed up to the soft give of Evan's hole. Tommy doesn't press in so much as he pulls Evan back to meet him. He pulls Evan onto his cock by the grip he has on his waist, until Evan's ass rests against his thighs, his legs splayed to either side of Tommy's.

Evan moans as Tommy bottoms out, whines, "God, Tommy," into his own arms, his face pressed down into them. Tommy's own breath catches at how easy the slide is, how readily Evan's body accommodates him, how eagerly Evan's already rolling his hips to grind Tommy into him deeper, deeper. Tommy uses his hold on Evan's waist to rock him forward, then back; it's barely any movement, but the hot wet press of Evan around him already has Tommy's head spinning.

"Show me how much you want it, baby," Tommy says, and helps Evan repeat the motion. He nudges his own hips forward at the last second, drawing a whine out of Evan, a shudder working its way up Evan's spine to his shoulders. Evan starts moving himself, working himself in earnest on Tommy's dick.

Evan's voice always gets higher when Tommy fucks him, desperate whining ah ah ahs escaping from the top of his throat with every thrust. He can still draw them out like this, helping Evan fuck himself onto his cock - Evan's voice breaks on one when Tommy shifts one of his legs to get better leverage and manages to sink deeper into him. Tommy takes a moment, watches where they're connected, how he disappears into the soft, wet heat of Evan's body again and again.

"Tommy," he whines. "Please, please, I need more-" He cuts himself off on a deep, gasping groan as Tommy shifts again, dragging his hands down to Evan's hips and adjusting their balance just so to give Evan a hard, brutal thrust.

The whole world narrows down to them - the way they gasp each other's names, the way Evan still begs vaguely for more; the way it feels for Tommy to bury himself in Evan, the slick-tight glide around his cock pulling him in and in and in. Tommy leans over Evan once more, reducing his thrusts to a tight grind he can tell is directly over Evan's prostate from the way Evan keens and claws at the sheets under his hands. He gets his hand around Evan's dick - leaking so hard he's drenched with it and Tommy doesn't need any lube at all to glide his fist tight around him.

"Come on, baby, come on," Tommy grunts. The pitch of Evan's moans grows higher, higher, until his whole body locks on a gasp and he shudders the air out of his lungs as he shudders through his release. Tommy grinds in deep, once, twice, and follows, choking on a moan when he reaches that peak and he loves it like this - when he knows Evan's pleasure through the tight squeeze of his body, and finds his own from it.

When he's ready to think again, he pulls out and flops onto his back beside Evan, who immediately drags himself to lay on top of him, shoulders-on-shoulders and skin-to-skin all the way down. Tommy takes his full weight gladly and smiles when Evan starts carding his fingers through his hair.

"Hey," Tommy murmurs. He wraps his arms around Evan's waist, holding him tight, even though there's no chance either of them are going anywhere anytime soon.

"Hi," Evan returns, with a big, dopey grin.

Evan's cheeks swell bright and round like ripe peaches with his smile. Tommy kisses them both, back and forth, over and over until Evan's giggling on top of him and grabbing at him to keep him still. With a hand in Tommy's hair and the other cradling his cheek, Evan kisses him soft and slow and this - well, Tommy could do this forever.

[kantush]

Does anyone here remember Protocreed......

It's a dead crack ship that fucks me over to this day.

(so srry for invoking this but I'm going down memory lane and remembered this ship existed and y'all the way it had a hold on me in the golden age of Tumblr. Can't believe this was my first crack ship. And now that I know how to art, I realized what's stopping me from drawing a nostalgic ship. )

[bubbarnes]

“... you never want to go so high”.

[punkeropercyjackson]

He WOULD fucking do that but NOT with that fucking intention

[redmyeyes]

"You're gonna get blood on your sweater." "I won't get blood on my sweater."

WOLFS (2024), competence kink 🤝performance kink

[sabo-torao]

Small disclaimer before you head in: this whole post will be referencing the TCB translation. I know VIZ handled the exchange I'm discussing differently, but I couldn't find anyone who talked about the original version and as a result I don't really know who is closer to the original meaning. In any case, the "analysis" should still stand. Whether Dragon was commenting Sabo's firmness or admiring his resolution, Sabo's still putting on a mask, and that's the point I'm trying to break down. Enjoy!

This very specific interaction between Dragon and Sabo in chapter 1083 has always stuck out to me.

"My, you really are unshakeable."

which is an appropriate response to what Sabo said, of course. What kind of sensitive person reacts that way to the death of an innocent, right?

Even so, I can't help but compare the thing Sabo said to his actual, genuine reaction to King Kobra's death.

He's devastated.

Sabo brokenly screams Kobra's name, and his expression is one of full despair; he never thought about killing Kobra, let alone letting him die. On the contrary, he actively tried to save him.

Kobra told him to just let him go, that he was dead weight and he shouldn't be concerned about him, but Sabo straight up refused. In fact, Kobra's actions read way more as a sacrifice than an inevitable death; the king let himself die, knowing that this way Sabo could flee and reach Vivi and Luffy safely.

On the Lulusian ship, we see Sabo think about Kobra's last words to him and actively trying not to cry (and failing).

That's not an unshakable man. He's suffering, he's grieving. He realizes he failed his very own mission of saving the king and lets the meaning behind Kobra's actions and words sink in.

It really puts his former reaction into perspective.

Sabo's firmness, seriousness and coldness in front of Dragon and Ivankov are nothing but a façade. He acknowledges that what he's about to say might come off as harsh, and that, even if he does feel sorry for Kobra, the tragedy doesn't weigh him down thanks to the results it brought, but it all sounds like he's reassuring himself more than actually showing his indifference.

Hell, he even drinks his glass of wine right after having said that "he doesn't really care". How can anyone take his words seriously?

And we've been knowing Sabo is inclined to do this sort of thing since Dressrosa; he acted all cool and composed in front of Luffy but the second Koala called him on the Den Den Mushi he was weeping, having a hard time believing that his little brother didn't punch him or hate him for being alive all along. He even denied he was crying!

All because Sabo hates being seen as vulnerable, especially in front of the people he thinks he has to be strong for (Luffy, Dragon, etc). It's something I think goes back to how his parents treated him, since they scolded him for, y'know, having emotions and being a normal kid in need of love, but i digress.

I once saw someone describing Sabo as a very cold person in comparison to his brothers, even going as far as to say that Sabo doesn't care if people die if it means achieving the Revolutionary Army's goals (using this very interaction as proof), which couldn't be further away from the truth.

Bonney even says outright that it's weird seeing a "radical revolutionary" act so friendly when Sabo helps her out. Why would he do this if all he ever did was for "The Cause"?

Yes, Sabo is ruthless, rude, violent at times, and his friendly demeanor could be seen as a little more volatile than that of his brothers', but he's not heartless. He's not a "meanings to an end" guy, he proves it time and time and time again, and it's disheartening seeing people label him as such.

Sabo is kind. He may not be as warm as Ace and Luffy, but he is fundamentally a good person. A generous, kind, caring, sensitive person.

No matter how hard he tries to hide it.

[mrmeepsmadmind]

rewatching this over and over again.. mainly bcs tarn makes soundwave into a manlet but also bcs it's hilarious

[vix2section]

(x)

[everybodyshusband]

cirrus/dew mutual masturbation because i need to practice writing smut :3 savour cis dewdrop while you can because that is not something i write often sdfhkjsf

blame @divine-misfortune idk

"Oh fuck." Cirrus groans into Dew's mouth as he pets at her clit just right.

"Uh huh," he agrees, brow creasing and mouth dropping open in a silent moan as Cirrus shifts her leg, inviting the fire ghoul to hump against her leg as she drops her hand to fondle his balls.

They've been going at this for what feels like hours now and knowing them, it probably has been. It's hard to say when they started, the time bleeding together as they moved from sleeping, to cuddling, to kissing, to petting, to... Well, this.

Dew whine again as the tip of his cock drags over the delicate lace on the bottom of Cirrus' sleep shorts and she chuckles at his desperation. But her own laugh is quickly cut off by a surprised gasp as Dewdrop choses this moment to shift his fingers down and in. She grips at his bicep and groans as the flex of his muscles match the movement of his fingers inside of her.

Never one to leave her partner's waiting, she too shifts her hand, dragging her fingers from Dew's balls to instead wrap them around his cock once more. He whines as she resumes her gentle stroking, and twists his arm so he can place his thumb on her clit, rubbing it side to side as he pumps his fingers inside her.

Cirrus moans and surges upwards, connecting their mouths once more in a filthy kiss. She rubs her own thumb against the tip of Dew's cock, collecting the beads of pre dripping there and smearing them over the length of it. On the next stroke, they both groan at the slick sound of it. They're both close and they know it. The only trouble is that neither of them are going to get there.

It's never an issue though, especially between the two of them. Both much more familiar with the movement of their own hands rather than those of others. So...

"Hey, can we–"

"Do you wanna–"

They cut each other off and pause staring at one another before scrunching their noses up in laughter.

"Fuck yeah," Dew nods.

"Let's do it."

They're in tune enough with each other and they've done this enough times to know exactly what the other means. They roll off and over one another and position themselves on Cirrus' bed, facing each other and close enough to kiss. Dewdrop does exactly that, leaning across the tiny gap to press their mouths together in a soft kiss.

"Ready?" He asks.

Cirrus nods. "Ready."

They both reach down once again, this time into their own pants and moan in tandem with one another as they begin stroking. Cirrus' fingers flick over her clit lightening quick, in a pace and style that in her experience, only she can perform. From the looks of it, Dew is doing exactly the same with his cock, twisting his hand over the head and squeezing the shaft just the way he likes it.

As the pull of her orgasm begins to grow deep in her navel, Cirrus moans and pulls Dewdrop closer with her free hand. He groans into the kiss, deepening it as much as possible in the position they both find themselves in.

Soon enough, the pull of her orgasm grows, overwhelming Cirrus with it's strength.

"Dew, I– I'm gonna–"

"Fuck," he whines. "Me too, me too."

Their respective paces speed, hands working overtime to push themselves over the edge.

Dew goes first, swearing and grasping at the pillows as he spurts all over his hand, covering the inside of his boxers.

It doesn't take long for Cirrus to follow, shrieking and gasping as her orgasm washes over her. Her legs stiffen and her hand keeps flying over herself, desperate to draw this out for as long as possible.

As they both come down from their respective highs, Dewdrop pulls her back in for another breathless kiss and they stay like that for a good while before breaking away from each other, still panting.

Their moment of bliss is soon broken however, by a knock at the door. "Hey, uhh, are you guys done in there?" Mountain's voice floats through the crack. "Papa said he wants Cirrus for the vocals practice with Lus and Rory."

Cirrus sighs and pulls herself up, already switching out her sleep shorts for something more appropriate for the rest of the day. "I'm on my way, Mount," she calls, glancing back apologetically at Dew, who's still laying on her bed.

The fire ghoul shrugs and smiles. It's fine, he mouths, affectionately gesturing for her to go before she's even later for practice.

She smiles back at him as she leaves blowing him a kiss that he pretends to catch before flopping back onto the bed and pulling the blankets back up over himself and presumably falling back asleep.

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

The "wow this relationship was so compelling and/or queer I'm sure that there is much fan stuff" to "Oh yeah I forgot the fandom branded these characters as having a familial relationship such as siblings or parent/child and harassed people who said otherwise" pipeline

[samyazasheaven]

Sarah needs more attention, like whats goin on up in that big massive brain of yours