#he's needy for reedy

[roosterforme]

Can Bob (beer boy& sugar universe) meet a nice girl from the English department too? It would be too sweet for my heart

Advanced Calculus. Advanced Physics. ADVANCED LITERATURE.

[daggerspare-standingby]

It’s Tuesday, that means @roosterforme Adult Education!

[tonycries]

YOU’VE UNLOCKED: Clan leader Choso wants an heir! ♡

How are those child-birthing hips, madam?

“O-oh, baby–” Choso’s feverish pants come out in such wet gasps against your ear, and he’s staring down at you with swollen, wobbly lips. Mouth just watering at the delicious curve of your spine, how easily it was that your pretty pussy was swallowing him up whole. “Oh baby- my baby- wontcha gimme an heir?”

It’s been hours now - and it’s just about the only mantra the clan leader - your husband - can get out.

And it’s all that he can spit out coherently at this moment, the large palms of his hands splaying out underneath your thighs to hoist you cleanly off the ground. 

You’re both letting out synchronized gasps when this only rummages him even more deeply inside of your clingy walls. Every ridge and throbbing vein along his length grazing up and down your sweetest spots. 

It makes you just gush, Choso’s sloshing honeyed cum drooling out of the ends of your sopping slit in such a creamy ring. Shit - he was missing some godforsaken clan meeting for this, too. And he’s never been happier.

“Fuck.” he shudders in a sharp inhale at the sinful feeling, jittery fingers dancing up, up, up to envelope your tummy. He gives a slow, gentle pat along that tiny inflation of him inside of you, “How do you feel so- ah- please!” His teeth nip a reedy path down your exposed neck, “Please please please wanna fill this cute cunt all over again so badly.”

“Yes.” you’re mewling when the voluptuous curve of his heft tip gushes out in another wave of such swelteringly hot, syrupy precum. Drenching your plush walls, at the mere sound of your lilting voice. “Want you to give me a- ah!”

Biting his lip, it’s all he can do to shut your pretty moans up before he cums already. He was addicted. 

Shit, he feels like he could pass out, throwing his head back with throaty stammers. Truthfully, he doesn’t know if he can cum - he doesn’t know if it’s even possible. Each and every wet thwack! thwack! thwack! of his overworked balls send stinging sparks of pleasure up his bowed back. 

But god, you always felt so heavenly. And Choso thinks he’d rather die than let such a messy pussy go to waste, than to leave it without every single drop he can offer.

“Shhh sh sh-” Your whiny moans are being muffled with his hot mouth, breath hitching when he wraps those pretty pink lips around your tongue. Sucking. Slowly. “I can- hngh- see it already.”

And oh, Choso sounds so ragged right about now.

Losing his fucking mind with each sloppy grind into your overstuffed cunt - and he was so big. So massively hefty that it stretched out your gripping walls until they struggled to mold around his length. Trying to milk the fucking soul out of him.

“Can see you- all round n’ glowing.” he’s babbling, all pussydrunk. Your entire body jolts when the thick curve of his thumb swipes a sultry trail down where your puffy folds were bulging all around him. “All filled with me-”

Choso was firmly hammering into you with reckless abandon - he always had been tonight, all but dragging you to the heady confines of your bedroom after seeing you cooking dinner with his little brother. Pulling, tearing, fucking you into one of the old mahogany tables at his sprawling family estate. 

Feral. 

His dark yukata is just barely dangling off of one milky shoulder, sifting down further and further at each pressurized push of his slender hips. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck-” you moan, tangling your fingers inn his dark strands in a way that makes him keen. Makes him almost sob, voice cracking so pathetically. 

He could count every clench of your tight pussy around his achy cock, every knocking clash against your g-spot - your womb - that had you letting out the cutest noises, every splattering dredge of his own potent seed stuffed deep inside. 

“Yeah- oh, baby–” Choso’s rough hands come up to steady your hips, knees buckling with such neediness to push use your velvety channel even further. “Hah- my little heir- gonna be jus’ as strong as daddy, hm? Fuck-” Your feet are now fully dangling off of the ground now, and he’s licking such a languid stripe up your throat. “They’ll look at you all full- all pretty and see me.” His lips were running a mile a minute, leaning forwards to pin you down onto the cool surface with his full weight. “Those elders- the council- friends- everyone and anyone. They’ll see you and know I did this I-”

You just sob when he sinks in so deeply in another messy, thorough thrust. 

“-I did this-” he’s sounding so utterly out of breath, gliding his wet hand along your overspilling pussy to coat it in a glossy sheen of cum and your sweet, sweet juices. The sight just makes him gasp, bringing his glossed-up fingers up to his face, “-I did this, didn’t I, baby?”

Your hips can only jitter backwards in a useless attempt to meet his ruthless cadence. “Y-yes- you did this- hngh- really wanna-” You’re swallowing the tiny ah! ah! ah! wrenching out of his spit-slicked lips. “-wanna make you a daddy, Cho–”

And oh that makes him whine. 

You knew that if any of those uptight elders could see their golden boy right now - one of their strongest clan leaders - they’d absolutely faint. 

Because Choso was rutting, he was sobbing, he was cumming. 

So much. Weepy cock flagging once, twice before another one of his crashing rams have him dumping out such sheer, heavy ribbons of cum. Over and over- you’ve never felt so full. Because Choso’s thick girth was already stretching out your insides, and it was only bloating up more with each sticky gush of cum oozing out into your walls. So much-

“Oh my god-” you’re all but hauling him in so closely by his hair, making him whimper. “Feel so stuffed- so good, Cho. Fuck a baby into me- hah-”

You’re so utterly cockdrunken that it takes a few syrupy seconds for you to realize that those words are all it takes for your dear, strong husband to gush out in another steaming wave of cum. Until he was shooting blanks. 

Long, trembly fingers of his snake downwards to spread your pussy lips, eyeing down the way you make such a mess all over his cock. 

“Sh-shit.” he’s sniffling, kissing the side of your mouth. He can’t take his eyes away from just how swollen your stomach had gotten after being overfilled to the brim. Slobbery pussy coating him in all your lewd contents. “Of- of course, ma’am.” 

And before you know it, he’s bucking down into you again. Mind hazy, big fat tears splashing saltily onto your lips. 

“Anything- anything for my gorgeous w-wife.” He groans, and you feel the painfully pleasurable clench of his overworked balls once more. Dangerous. Depraved. Still. Knocking up greedily against your ravaged g-spot once more - you didn’t really think you were done already, did you? “Anything for the future mother of my heir.” 

[hotluncheddie]

‘No.’ eddie says, standing from the table and puffing his chest out. Clenching one fist and holding the other up like a freaky Halloween version of a traffic warden. He brings the outstretched hand to his chest, closing his eyes for a moment. ‘Allow me.’

Steve stares at him. Stack of plates in hand, half up from the table and confused. ‘Uh’ he manages before Eddie steps over and takes the plates from Steve, their fingers brushing as eddie squishes his thumb into a leftover dollop of sauce and grips them tightly. He then hip checks Steve back into his chair and waltzes over to the sink.

‘Munson’s on dish duty I guess.’ Robin says, smirking at Steve and finishing her soda.

Steve schools his slack jaw expression, closing his mouth and going to stand again. ‘Eddie, it’s fine, really.’ But Eddie’s sudden outstretched palm stops him, has him sinking back down onto the dining room chair.

‘Stevie, please.’ Eddie says from the sink, eyes closed and head bowed. ‘You cooked, therefore, as your humble knight, I will conquer the dishes.’ And he brings his hand back to his heart again, looking up at the ceiling with reverence and verve. Side on from the table and Steve thinks he looks like a painting he saw at a Chicago art gallery Robin dragged him to. Heavenly in his light and shadows, cut from glass, shrouded in sun rays and glowing with a quiet, broken sort of intensity.

Steve clears his throat. Feels a blush run up his neck and he readjusts the legs of his jeans. Scooting his chair so he’s sitting back flush against the dining room table; he avoids Robin’s eye. ‘If you like.’ He rasps, fiddling with his used napkin, tearing off a corner and letting it flutter onto the tabletop.

Eddie does like. He turns the tap on, pouring dish soap into the filling basin before pulling Steve’s Marigolds on slowly, one at a time, as if he really is a knight - gearing up for battle.

‘Love the new look.’ Robin heckles and Eddie flashed her a grin before going back to serious; pulling at the gloves one last time and tuning the tap off with a flourish. Then he stalks back over to the table, Legs long and striding, arms bowed slightly from his body with adrenaline filled tension.

He steps up to the side of Steve’s chair, looming over him, tilting Steve’s head up slowly with one bright yellow, slightly damp finger under his chin. ‘Rest now, my leige.’ He murmurs lowly, reverently, gazing down at him before dipping to place a slow, soft kiss on Steve’s lips.

A embarrassing, needy, wounded sort of sound, whine, extracts its self from Steve’s throat. Chest heaving and throat bobbing as Eddie smiles at him softly, stepping away again to scoop up the remaining glasses and utensils in his capable, rubbery, hands.

‘…Your boyfriend is weird dude.’ Robin says from across him, eyeshrows raised and the corners of her mouth dropped in pinched distaste. Her eyes dancing with glee.

‘Yeah.’ Steve breaths, voice reedy and he blinks a few times, his fingers feeling tingly and numb, all of him syrupy and slow moving. His boyfriend is a freak.

And Steve has never once felt so loved.

(Tag list (open): @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @scoops-aboy86 @tangerinesteve @marvel-ous-m

@cheesedoctor @chickensinrainboots )

[pseudowho]

Nanami Kento's Massive Squeezable Man Tiddies

@afghanlilith MADE THIS ASK AND I NEED THE WHOLE OF TUMBLR TO KNOW, BECAUSE SHES TOO EMBARRASSED TO SHOW HER FACE.

(Just a neat reposting without the original asks)

Now that we've established the baseline, I think this would happen...

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Kento was ready-- apron on, ingredients methodically laid out, recipe read once, twice and remembered. Stove on. Pan heating. Oil in. Therapy.

Twenty minutes in, lost in the steady satisfaction of a meal coming together, Kento heard the door click open, your voice calling out to him, reedy and needy, the door closing.

"In here, my lo-- whoah, whoah..." Kento stumbled forwards against the counter as you smushed yourself against his back with some force. Chuckling, he kicked one leg up behind him, tapping his heel against your bottom with gentle reassuring taps, all house slippers and affection. A soft, satisfied groan from behind him.

Kento continued to work, musing; almost ready to go in the oven now...all the while feeling your hands almost aggressively stroking up his belly, his chest, squeezing, squidging with fingertips.

He felt your fingertips graze his nipples, and he felt his cock twitch, coughing in alarm as he kicked the oven door open, slid the food into it, and spun round to glare down at you without venom, clasping your hands.

"Do you mind?" He heard a dirty little giggle in his chest as you muffled your face in it, rubbing from side to side.

"Do you mind...having such a slutty chest?" Kento sputtered, ears going red as your hands continued to roam him, while you nuzzled into him, nipping and biting, a woman possessed.

"I beg your--...par--...mmmmm." Kento's head tipped back, eyes drifting closed, accepting the roaming hands, feeling thoroughly used. Glancing down at you, and seeing you look up at him with a wicked little smile and one lip between your teeth, Kento's eyes narrowed.

"Keep that up," he toned, chest rumbling under your hands, "and you'll be in trouble."

"Trouble?" You asked, faux-innocent. Kento's chest rumbled once in warning, again.

"Trouble," he insisted, cock hardening down his thigh, "I'm a busy ma-- alright, that's it." Your fingers had grazed his nipples again, tweaking just once, and you squealed with delight as Kento threw you over one shoulder, with you laughing all the way to the bedroom.

"Apron on!" You clapped, "Keep the apron on!"

Kento huffed, smirking as he kicked the bedroom door shut behind him; "If you insist. Menace."

[hazbinshusk]

Angel and Reader shoot a homemade cam show as a naughty surprise for Husk when their anniversary comes around—the man has never been more flustered and overcome with desire in his life.... What a lucky guy!!

- ⭐ blue-dream-boye

oh my god, can you imagine though?

he turns on the screen and there you are sitting on the bed looking so sweet but so bashful, even dressed in the prettiest little set of lingerie. it's nothing he's seen you in before, and somehow he knows even before he sees angel in the video wearing a complementary set that he had a hand in picking it out.

and angel's giving the camera this cheesy, flirtatious wink before he slips in behind you. he spreads his long, long legs on either side of yours and you lean back against him, and angel's eyes are on the camera as he coos for you to relax and 'show daddy what we talked about'.

and angel keeps talking, low and reedy and so sweet in your ear, eyes falling teasingly down over you every now and then before returning to the camera as he tells you how to touch yourself for 'daddy'. he skims his fingers over your shoulders and your waist and your hips, lingering in that last spot because he knows that's where husk likes to grab. and he's so honeyed and you're so cute with your trembling and your quickly building neediness as you work your hand between your legs that husk for a moment isn't sure if the 'daddy' the spider is teasing you about is angel or him.

but then angel moves to sit beside you and soon you're both moaning husk's name as you cum together with twin vibrators pressed inside you and that bartender is at risk of staining the inside of his pants.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 41

part 1 | part 40 | ao3

FUCKING. FINALLY. welcome back and happy new year babies! cw: this is just porn. D/s vibes but nothing formally discussed. smidge of subspace, mild to moderate pain play, oops! all nipple play. minors i will spray you with bear mace i swear to god

The hand under his shirt moves higher up, fingertips skimming his sternum, weaving through his chest hair; tugging, just a little. “Good?” Eddie checks. His voice is light, relaxed and conversational like he isn't driving Steve crazy, working his fingers in maddening little circles that make Steve's lungs forget how to work.

Steve goes to say yeah, but then Eddie pinches his left nipple and all that comes out is: “Fuck.” Quietly gasped at the ceiling, panting when Eddie doesn't let go.

No one's ever touched him there before.

Not on purpose; not like this.

Eddie's fingers are fucking jumper cables; he rolls the stiffening nub between his forefinger and thumb, and electricity bursts from the point of contact down the length of Steve's whole spine — settles in the small of his back and makes him lurch off the floor with a wordless groan.

"God," Eddie breathes, rolling his hips against Steve's thigh. Slow and filthy and hard, painting a wet spot on his sweats. Steve can feel it against his leg, the tiniest little dot blooming at the tip; knows that if he looked down he'd see it spreading dark and damp. God. God.

Eddie shoves Steve's shirt up under his arms and chases his fingers with his tongue. Licks the battery; makes Steve jolt. "Knew you'd be like this," he says, searing eye contact as he dips to swirl the pointed tip of his tongue against the peak. He blows a stream of cool air until Steve squirms underneath him, then crawls up to press his lips to the lobe of Steve's ear, breath hot against him as his tongue flicks out to taste. "Knew you’d be sensitive here, too." His fingers play with the skin he left pebbled and spit-slick. "You’re so responsive, aren’t you?”

Shame or something like it scorches Steve’s cheeks like a brand, and he curls up to hide in the crook of Eddie’s neck. Squeezes his eyes shut, focuses on hot skin and fine stubble. Warm. Safe.

"Sorry," Eddie chuckles in his ear. “Too much?”

Steve shakes his head. Doesn't want to hear the word 'sorry' right now; thinks it sounds weird in Eddie's mouth. Thinks it has no business here.

Eddie rocks his hips against him. “Gonna tell me if it is?”

Steve nods mutely, curling in tighter and rolling his forehead over Eddie’s collarbone, the fabric soft against his nose.

"Gonna tell me with your words?” Eddie teases, voice low.

Steve tries; he tries, okay? But all that comes out is another weak moan, a reedy whimper high in his throat, and he can't uncurl himself; can't shake the flood of nerves or shame or— he doesn't know what. Doesn't understand what's happening: why he's rolled up like a pill bug, why he's shaking like a leaf, making all these pathetic, needy noises like some wound-up nervous virgin, but Eddie's hard against him, and his rings are tickling his ribs, and he can't fucking stop now; can't find his words, can't work his tongue.

Eddie fists his free hand in the hair at Steve's nape, pulls him out of hiding and looks at him with narrowed eyes.

It's mean. It's hot. Steve wants to stare without blinking; desperately wants to look away.

Eddie's tongue runs over his lip, considering and almost rude, like tsk, tsk, tsk; whatever will we do with you? and then he twists Steve's nipple hard.

“F-fu—!” Steve stutters, whimpering in shock. Eddie pinches harder, eyes narrowing to slits, and it hurts; it fucking hurts, but it snaps him out of it. Whatever it was. “Yes!” he gasps, hips bucking without thought.

"Ah," Eddie bites back a pleased grin, "so you do know how to answer me. That's good." He shifts his weight onto his elbow and gives Steve's abused nipple a sharp flick, asking in a bored tone, "Yes what, baby boy?"

Holy shit; holy shit. Steve couldn't possibly remember now. “Yes," he babbles, guessing, "I'll— I'll do it; do whatever, just— fuck. Eddie. Eddie, please.”

“Close enough," Eddie relents. Smiling wide, teeth sunk into his bottom lip; sadistic fucker's loving this. He gives Steve's nipple a soothing pat (or rather, a pat that would be soothing if his skin wasn't still stinging from the vicious treatment a second ago), and says, "I’ll be nice this time.”

Steve gawks at him. Lifts up on his elbows so he can do it properly. “That was you being nice?”

"Sure was." He sighs a happy hum and gives another languid thrust, cock flexing on Steve's thigh, and a pulse thuds between their bodies. Steve can't tell whose pulse it is, whose blood is singing in whose veins. Eddie taught him something once about resonant frequency — symphonies of synchrony, he said, or something like it; all wistful and blissed out on the tail end of a joint — and Eddie kisses him now and when he bends to nip his Adam's apple, Steve feels the murmured words reverberate inside his throat. “You wanna see me get a little mean?”

—

part 42

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[v3lnys]

let me reward you

Enea Bastianini/Fabio Di Giannantonio – 1.3k – Smut/Explicit thai gp 2024 Read here or on AO3

Diggia walked around his motorhome, a towel around his waist, water still dripping from a few of his strands and sliding down his back. Someone knocked on his door, startling him; just a few, but audibly insistent knocks. He moved the little curtains and peeked to see who was standing outside, promptly opening the door when he saw Enea. 

Enea almost pounced on Diggia the moment he was inside and the lock clicked shut, hands grasping onto his hips to bring Diggia closer, not giving Diggia a moment to speak before he smashed their lips together. The latter wrapped his arms around Enea’s neck, one hand tangling in the damp curls as Enea kissed him like he was starved. 

He tugged on Enea’s curls to break the kiss, chuckling a little at the way Enea tried to chase his lips. “Ciao, amore,” Diggia whispered with a little grin, face so close to Enea’s that his eyes almost crossed. 

“Diggi…” Enea breathed, looking winded just from the short, but intense kiss, looking up at the other man through half lidded eyes. “You were so fucking fast today, god…”

And Enea sometimes gets like this after Diggia’s had a good race. Needy, desperate to please. Other times it's Diggia coming to Enea's motorhome, smiling wide, but Enea can see that hungry look in his eyes – ‘Amazing moves out there today, amore…’

And today wasn't amazing for Enea, but he doesn't care about it, clinging to Diggia and attaching his lips to the warm skin of his neck, shoulders. Diggia is always a little uncertain about the attention, trying to be a gentleman. 

“Enea, wait–” Diggia breathes, pulling on the other man's curls to look at his face again. “Today it wasn't–”

And Diggia doesn't mean to rub it in, it's all just worry, that maybe Enea is trying to overcompensate, kick his own hurt under the rug. Enea knows this, finds it quite endearing that the other man cares so much, but now he just wants. Always wants to reward Diggia for how good he did. His own special compliment, just for them to experience. 

“I don't care–” Enea starts. He cares, a little bit. But not right now. “I did what I could, there's no point in getting stuck.” 

Diggia just can't let go, always insistent, “But, Enea–” 

“Diggi, please …” Enea whines, reedy and a little shaky. “Please let me. You know I– I'm fine, okay?” 

Diggia swallows, taking a deep breath and letting the desire wash over him as he exhales, making him shiver even though the feeling inside his abdomen is hot .

“You did so well,” Enea breathes it out somewhere against Diggia's ear. “Fuck, it almost got me hard when I heard.. Wanted you so bad when I watched the replay.” 

And it should be a little weird – unusual – that it's not his own achievements that get him like this. It's not weird now or ever though, not to them. Not like Diggia is any better with controlling his urges whenever Enea does good. 

Diggia sighs, light and soft, eyes closing as he imagines Enea watching the replay, zeroed in on Diggia, getting worked up by such a seemingly unexpected thing. 

Enea’s lips keep moving across the other’s shoulders, gently grazing his teeth across Diggia’s collarbone, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smirk at the way it makes Diggia shiver. He’d get on his knees now, but Diggia keeps a firm hold on his biceps, already steering him towards the bedroom. 

The bed squeaks a little under Diggia’s weight, Enea lowering himself to straddle his thighs, the hard outline of him pressing against Diggia’s bare skin. The kiss doesn’t stop, Enea licking into Diggia’s mouth with so much want that it leaves them both breathless, gasping as they pull apart, only to go back in again, Diggia caressing Enea’s bulge through his sweatpants. 

It’s not long before Enea can’t take it anymore, the built up desire fucking with his head. He slides off Diggia’s lap with one last kiss, the hard floor uncomfortable under his knees, but he doesn’t care about the ache, only cares about Diggia, fingers quickly working to pull apart the towel around his waist. And Diggia’s hard already, almost throbbing when Enea wraps his hand around it, squeezing a little before giving him a few strokes, thumb rubbing along the slit. He looks up and Diggia is already looking down at him, lips parted around a breathy little whine.

Enea almost wants to keep it slow, but the urge to devour Diggia’s whole being is just too strong. He sticks out his tongue and flattens it against the base of Diggia’s dick, licking up in a broad stroke until he reaches the tip, closes his lips around it and watches the desire lighting up in Diggia’s eyes. He loves that hungry look on Diggia, holds the eye contact as he slides his mouth all the way to the bottom, watching Diggia’s mouth open with a sharp gasp when he hits the back of Enea’s throat. 

And it’s dizzying, Enea’s brain almost shutting off when he has his mouth full, hands gripping Diggia’s hips to keep him still. The response is almost immediate, Diggia's hands tangling in the sheets to anchor himself, lips parting around soft moans – music to Enea's ears.

Enea breathes through his nose, letting his throat work around Diggia the way he likes it before starting to move his head up and down along his length. It feels like Diggia is everywhere, overwhelming Enea's senses in the best way: the smell of him, the taste, the feel. 

Enea digs his fingers into the firm muscle of Diggia's thigh as he speeds up his pace, one hand coming to wrap around the base of his dick, sliding downwards to squeeze Diggia's balls, massaging the taut skin.

Diggia feels the familiar warmth pooling in his abdomen, already almost delirious with the pleasure of Enea's mouth moving quickly, practiced and perfect. He can't get his thoughts under control, everything fuzzy and scrambled from the relentless pace Enea has set. 

And it's a little intense, making Diggia's arms quiver so much that he has to lower himself to his elbows, eyes still locked on Enea. He tangles his fingers in Enea's curls, tugs a little, just hard enough to make the other man moan around his dick, the vibrations shooting through his body like electroshock.

He's close, so close. Enea knows, can feel it in the way Diggia tries to weakly buck his hips up, the way his thighs tremble slightly. He sucks harder, takes Diggia to the back of his throat again, fingers pressing against his balls. 

“Enea–” Diggia gasps, fingers in the other's hair tightening, “I'm close– fuck –” he cries out, feeling his orgasm roll closer. 

Enea stays where he is, hand around the base of Diggia's dick, red, spit slick lips around the top and when he looks up at Diggia there's tears in his eyes, making him look so beautiful, almost ethereal.

The orgasm rips through Diggia, punching out a whiny, broken moan and it feels like his soul just left him, drained out of him along with the come and spilled far down Enea's throat. Enea looks wrecked in the best way, swallows every bit, milks out the last drops with his mouth. 

Far in his daze, Diggia didn’t notice or hear the moment Enea came into his own sweats, the friction from his hand and the sounds from Diggia enough to make him lose it. He only notices when Enea is climbing into bed alongside him, the wet patch pressing against Diggia's leg. 

Diggia laughs a little, airy and detached from reality, pulls Enea up so they're face to face and kisses him, tastes himself on his tongue and it's nothing they haven't done before, but it always feels so surreal, the way Enea manages to leave Diggia brainless. Enea smiles against his lips, chest still heaving a little from his own orgasm, slides down to rest his head against Diggia's chest and it's good, comfortable, Diggia absentmindedly stroking his hair.

“We should shower,” Diggia croaks, not really making any move to get up.

Enea only presses up against him more, buries his face against Diggia's pec and kisses it softly, “Just a little more…”

[hey-august]

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x GN!reader, no use of Y/N. Anal / pegging M receiving, degradation, buggy is a needy mess, also a mention of buggy as "pretty boy." ;) All parties are consenting adults. Word count: ~660

Reedy whimpers and breathy moans are muffled by crumpled blankets. You thrust into the pirate from behind, pressing him deeper into the mattress.

Buggy collapsed beneath your unrelenting pace long ago, succumbing to a carnal need to be fucked senseless. Gloved hands weakly paw at the bedding, the only pieces of constricting clothing making it ever harder for shaky hands to become fists. Preventing him from holding control of anything. The bed bounces his body slightly with each slam of your hips into his ass, a welcome assist to your fervid movements.

His muscles are manipulated by desire. Highs and lulls of burning tension and compliant softness occur with each step closer Buggy gets to release. He had given up moving his body to meet yours, unable to chase his climax as it got nearer and the stimulation became deliriously overwhelming. Instead, all thoughts are given to the feeling of being stretched and filled, of being used.

His body shudders. His cock twitches - trapped between his body and the damp sheets collecting his sweat and precum. His pitch changes, becoming more drawn out. Thoughtless.

“Are you going to come?” you goad, already knowing the answer. 

Buggy nods, his affirmation overrun by a moan he can’t control.

“You’re going to make a fucking mess if you jizz now. You’re gonna come ah-all over the fucking sheets.” The last few words were carried by deep thrusts. “You don’t care, do you? What a filthy slut, you just wanna be fucked and m-make a mess, huh?”

Slowing down slightly, you focus on hitting deeper inside and letting him enjoy the drag against his tight ass while you taunt and tease.

“F-fuck you, shut up,” Buggy snaps, although it drifts out like a whine.

“Aw baby, you don’t mean that.” The mockingly saccharine response is accompanied by your hand brushing strands of blue hair from the pirate’s sweaty face. A gesture that’s followed by a fluttering lashes, a contented groan from his drooling mouth, and unseen twitching from his leaky cock. You briefly squeeze a handful of hair, a moment of pressure that sends waves of passion through his body.

“C’mon, do it. Come all over the bed like the n-needy, dirty, fucking mess you are. Show me how much you like being fucked senseless,” you coax. 

The snarky, degrading words earn two subtle movements beneath you - a middle finger to serve as Buggy’s response, and a change in the angle of his hips to betray his enjoyment of your words and treatment.

You pick up the pace, eager to see Buggy unravel. And he does. It starts slow. Small. His breath quickens. Each sound is shallower than the previous one. His brows remain furrowed, yet move from false annoyance to hungry acceptance. His hands tremble. They claw at the bed, desperately seeking purchase before he drowns. His ass clenches, squeezing against you, against the hardness keeping him stretched. Failing to do anything except remind him of how deliciously powerless he is. Despite the slow start, the peak hits him suddenly.

“Oh f-fuck” Buggy chokes out, as his body flashes with heat, unable to keep the passion contained.

His cock spills cum, enthusiastic and delighted with each throb under his body. Buggy feels the hard warmth of his cock pressing against him, nearly thrashing in place as it fills the surrounding area with white hot cum. It's a lot. His fucked-out mind starts to drift, unable to process how long this orgasm takes or how much he’s releasing onto the bed.

You slow down as Buggy’s stilted moans turn into heavy panting. He shakes until you reach a pace that doesn’t overstimulate.

“Did you do it? Did you cream the fucking bed?”

He nods, eyes closed.

“You know we’re not done yet, right, pretty boy?”

Another nod. An eager nod.

“M-more please,” Buggy slurs against the bed. He grinds his hips, rutting his cock against his sticky cum and his ass against you. The pirate is insatiable and greedy, as he should be.

[matchingbatbites]

This is my little birthday gift for @stobinesque!! Just something short and sexy to celebrate!

This is absolute filth. Featuring Transmasc + Good Boy Eddie (with masculine/neutral terms for genitalia), Dom Top Steve, some begging, some fucking, and some praise.

"Please, Steve. Please please please, I need it, please let me have it."

"I've already told you what I want, baby, what you have to do to get my cock."

Steve grins as Eddie whines, watches his head drop forward as he rocks down onto the toy stuffed inside him. He's been on it for the better part of twenty minutes, has been since Steve stuck it to the floor and told Eddie to make himself come on it. It's one of their smaller ones, a choice Steve had made on purpose, if only to see the apprehension on Eddie's face at the thought that he may not be able to behave this time, may not be able to do as Steve asks.

His boyfriend is a good boy, though. He sat on it without a single complaint, and only whined a little when Steve cuffed his wrists together behind his back to make sure he wouldn't be able to use his hands. And then Steve sat back, making himself comfortable on the couch as Eddie started to ride the toy.

It's not enough, Steve knew it wouldn't be, and Eddie started whining a few minutes ago, started begging for Steve to touch him, fuck him, anything. Steve just rubs his dick through his sweats as Eddie pleads, loves to see his baby all desperate and needy. 

Eddie shifts forward a bit and must find a good angle because he jolts like he's been slapped. "Fu-Fuck, Steve, please!"

"You can do it, honey. I know you can be good for me."

A high whine and Eddie shakes his head. "Can't- Not enough, need more."

"Yes you can. You can because I want you to, isn't that right?"

Eddie hiccups and circles his hips on the toy desperately, and Steve's restraint breaks, he needs some kind of relief for himself. He shoves his sweatpants down to his thighs and wraps a hand around his dick, stroking himself a few times as he continues to watch his sweet boy.

"Look at me, baby. Watch me."

Brown curls shift as Eddie lifts his head to see, and he keens at the sight of Steve practically fucking his fist. "No, me. Fuck me, please." 

"I will, I promise. Wanna see you come first, I know you can, love."

Eddie nearly sobs at that, but Steve just watches on, fisting his dick as Eddie pushes himself closer and closer. His eyes stay locked on Steve, like he's imagining his hand, his mouth, his ass wrapped around it instead. Steve can practically see it playing behind his eyes like a movie.

"Stevie, gonna-"

"Yeah, come on, baby. Let me see it, fuckin' come for me, Eddie."

That seems to be the tipping point and Eddie gasps before releasing a high, reedy moan, hips stuttering as he rides the wave of his orgasm. Steve slides off the couch and kneels on the floor, takes Eddie's face in his hands and just holds the older boy as he comes down, twitching and trembling. He leans in and presses a kiss to Eddie's cheek, mutters a soft "That's it, baby, so good for me." 

Eddie's response is barely audible, a whispered "Please, please," that has Steve moaning low into Eddie's ear.

"I know, honey. I've got you, I'll take care of you."

He pulls back and tugs Eddie over to the couch, ignoring the dildo that's left behind as Eddie slides off it, leaving it shiny and slick. Instead he meets the older boy in a kiss, something bruising and possessive that Eddie arches into, desperately pressing closer for more. It only lasts a few seconds before Steve is pulling back and guiding Eddie to bend over the edge of the couch, and he watches the older boy shift for a moment before relaxing into the cushion beneath him.

Steve palms the petite globes of Eddie's ass before he slides a hand lower to Eddie's dripping entrance. It's so shiny and wet, and he can't help but to thumb at it a little, to rub it gently before pushing the digit inside. Eddie lets out a shaky moan, still sensitive from his recent orgasm, but that doesn't deter Steve. He pushes in until the base of his thumb meets the edge of Eddie's hole, and when he pulls it out he watches, mesmerized, as a glob of cum and slick drips out of him and hits the floor with a wet splat.

That's the last straw for Steve, and he mutters a soft swear as he lines his dick up, rubbing the head over Eddie's slick opening before pushing inside. Eddie moans long and loud at the stretch; Steve knows the dumb little toy that was in him pales in comparison to this, he absolutely revels in the way Eddie takes him so well.

Normally Steve would take his time, would savor the way Eddie wriggles and writhes on his cock, like he just can't get enough of it, always begging for more more more. At the moment he's too keyed up; after watching Eddie fuck himself to a shaky orgasm, all he wants to do is reach that peak for himself. He barely gives his boyfriend a chance to adjust before he sets a rough pace, more focused on his own pleasure at the moment than he is Eddie's. The older boy doesn't seem to mind, if the way he wails into the couch cushion is any indication. 

Steve doesn't consider himself to be selfish, though; he loves making Eddie feel good, loves bringing him pleasure and pushing until it just toes the line of pain. He loves Eddie, his sounds, his body, the way his entire body jerks any time Steve hits that sweet spot inside him. It's nice to just focus on his own release every now and then.

When he feels himself getting close, Steve reaches a hand around and takes Eddie's dick between two fingers, starting to stroke it in time with his thrusts.

"Gonna come for me again, baby? Gonna give me another one?"

Eddie moans and gives a shaky nod, smushes his face into the couch cushion as Steve snaps his hips harder, trying to tip them both over.

"Yeah you are. Come on, Eds, be a good boy and come for me."

Steve watches Eddie go from whining, needy moans, to completely quiet as he shakes apart with his second orgasm. Steve rubs his dick through it, pushing him higher and higher until Eddie breaks his silence with a loud, gasping inhale. He's shuddering as Steve fucks into him a few more times before following him over, vision going white as he spills inside his boyfriend.

Their come down is slow and syrupy, and Steve chuckles at Eddie's soft whine when he eventually pulls out.

"I know, baby. I gotta get the cuff key, though. Need to make sure your wrists are okay." 

His wrists are fine, but Steve will end up rubbing some lotion into them anyway, just to make sure there's no chafing that might show up later. After a quick clean up, he bundles Eddie up in a blanket and forces a snack into him before dragging him onto the couch.

"Wassit good?" Eddie mutters, already halfway asleep as he burrows into Steve's chest, and the younger boy smiles as he presses a kiss to brown curls. 

"Fuckin' perfect, baby."

[roosterforme]

I'm thinking about Jake and Reedy and how maybe Reedy is ranting about some faculty drama and is worried about it despite the fact that she knows she is overthinking it. Jake listens intently, folding the last of his clothes and putting it into his cupboard. He then walks over to where she's sitting, and sits on her lap, puts his hands on her waist and kisses her, square on the lips. When they stop kissing, she starts talking again. This continues till she forgets what she was talking about.

#alwaysneedyforreedy

Okay, now I'm screaming, Renee! Reedy would also at some point say, "Jake, you weigh a ton," but make no move to have him get off her lap.

[miasmaghoul]

Why do I never send you prompts? Time to remedy that.

How about some good old fashioned cockwarming? Featuring needy bottom Swiss?

Or, alternatively: someone should really eat Swiss out until he cries.

Comet, darling, did you really think I wouldn't do both?

Rain is feeling extra mean today.

Poor Swiss.

:)

(BEHOLD THE RETURN OF THE SWUSSY)

"I'm hungry," Rain had complained, slouching over the back of the common room couch with his chin hooked on Swiss's shoulder. He'd chuckled and given Rain's hair an affectionate tousle.

"Any particular reason you're telling me this and not the fridge?" Swiss had flipped the page of his magazine. "Last I checked that's where the food lives." Rain had made a sound of amusement, a low hum in the back of his throat.

"Who said anything about food?" He'd pressed a deceptively chaste kiss just behind Swiss's ear, and all of a sudden his reading material wasn't quite so interesting. Especially not when Rain's hand had started travelling down his chest. "I'm in the mood for something much more satisfying."

Rain had thumbed over a nipple, and Swiss had needed exactly zero further convincing to slide from the couch and into Rain's bedroom, already shucking his shirt and working on his belt before they'd even gotten the door shut.

It's been over an hour now, and Swiss has begun to regret his enthusiasm.

Rain has him laid out on soft sheets, every inch of his heated skin alight with sensation. The other ghoul had spent so long working him over, fingers and fangs pressing into his flesh hard enough to leave wonderful purple marks behind. They litter his throat, his chest, his stomach and inner thighs. Rain was slow and relentless about it, not giving Swiss so much as a moment's reprieve before he was sucking another stinging bruise into tender flesh. By the time Rain had finally settled between his quivering thighs Swiss was already panting.

The first swipe of Rain's tongue, a slow lick placed just above the swollen length of his clit, had Swiss arching off the bed with a moan so whorish it had left him blushing.

Rain is good at this. Too good, actually. He knows Swiss's body better than anyone - knows just where to touch, lick and suck to get him writhing. Knows exactly what to do to get him to the edge and keep him there, Swiss teetering on a rapidly rising precipice that Rain refused to let him fall from.

It's agony. Sweet, delicious, maddening agony.

Rain's torment hasn't ceased for a second, the other ghoul lapping so very lazily at his too-sensitive folds. Swiss lost his words a while ago, reduced to nothing but breathy moans and reedy whimpers whenever the pair of slender fingers inside him crook just so. Rain laves at his wet flesh like a man starved, suckling at dusky lips and running his tongue everywhere that wasn't where Swiss needed it most. His clit aches, red and throbbing from having gone utterly untouched since all of this started. The fingers inside him are complimented by a thumb pressed to his tight rim, the tip stroking featherlight through his copious slick. He can feel it soaking into the sheets too, cool against his burning skin every time he wriggles his hips. Tries to get away.

Rain refuses to let him.

He's caught in limbo; drowning in waves pleasure that never crest, a constant build up with no resolution, no relief. Rain has him pinned with nothing but that fucking mouth of his, groaning against Swiss's cunt with no predictability just to hear him suck air through clenched teeth. His other hand is busy abusing Swiss's chest, tugging and flicking each of his nipples in turn with the same lazy pace as his tongue. Swiss shudders when Rain twists his wrist just so, hitting something that has him seeing stars and drooling through a broken moan. He forces himself to breathe deep, balling his fists in the sheets; he'd grabbed at Rain's hair exactly one time, and the resulting snap of fangs far too close to his clit encouraged him not to do it again.

He's so desperate he might anyway.

Swiss swallows hard, tongue too heavy, too thick for the words in his throat to make it out. He fights his trembling muscles to lift his head, the world swimming as he struggles to do anything but moan and twitch under Rain's torturous ministrations. When he finally manages to shake the haze, just enough to bring the room into focus, he sees nothing but Rain.

He's watching Swiss like a hawk, sharp cerulean eyes fixed on his overtly pained face. Rain's soft curls are stuck to his forehead and temples, the uneven splash of freckles over the bridge of his nose so much more obvious against his flushed cheeks. He looks entirely too relaxed for how long they've been at this, hips subtly rutting against the mattress as he works Swiss down to nothing but atoms.

Swiss tries to speak, he really does, but all that comes out is a slurred repetition of Rain, Rain, Rain. The other ghoul gives him a wide, rough lick that has Swiss gasping before pulling back; he's soaked from the nose down in slick, chin shiny with it, and the sight makes Swiss's stomach burn. He clenches hard around the digits invading him with a pitiful squeak. Rain chuckles.

"Do you have something to say, princess?" His voice is rough and gravelly, pure sex. He licks his lips and Swiss whimpers, chewing his own fang-bruised lip. Rain blows a stream of cool air over his clit and Swiss arches so hard his back pops.

"Rain," he finally manages to rasp, struggling to do anything but moan as Rain starts fucking his fingers in deeper. Pressing the tip of that wandering thumb against his hole just hard enough to make it wink. Swiss can't keep his hands to himself any longer, bringing one up to paw feebly at the arm on his chest. It's like his bones are made of jelly. Mercifully, Rain doesn't bite at him for it. "Rain- Rainy, please -"

It's barely a whisper, one that melts into a pathetic whine when Rain presses the very tip of his thumb into Swiss's ass. Just enough to sting. He can feel heat prickling at the backs of his eyes and Swiss prays he can hold in the tears. He groans loud and low when Rain swirls his fingers against that one special spot, ratcheting him closer still. But it's not enough and they both know it. Rain gives him a crooked little smile, grinding a bit more obviously against the bed.

"Please what?" He sounds almost bored, seemingly oblivious to the way Swiss's thighs are practically vibrating against his shoulders. He watches for a beat while Swiss tries to remember how words work.

Rain's fingers are doing a marvelous job of making his brain leak out his ears. His heart dances in his chest, threatening to crash right through his ribcage. Rain gives him an annoyed look.

"I'm going to be upset if you interrupted my lunch for no reason."

Swiss is definitely going to cry. He can feel it, a wave of overwhelm that hits him square in the gut and between the eyes.

He's not like Rain or Dew when it comes to this sort of treatment. Swiss loves the teasing, to be certain, but after a certain point it becomes too much. Just on the wrong side of pleasurable.

That's why Rain insists on treating him this way from time to time - for this exact moment, the one where all words die and the pain and suffering etched into Swiss's face and taut muscles become too much to ignore. Rain must see it now; the edges of his expression soften, even though his gaze remains dark and heavy. He rolls his eyes.

"Already?" Swiss bites his lip hard enough to sting, nodding once. Rain sighs. "But I'm not done eating."

Swiss chokes on a sob, clenching again and cringing at the wet noise his cunt makes around Rain's fingers. He grips the hand on his chest for dear life, and at long last Rain takes mercy. Swiss sags into the mattress when that hand withdraws, the other ghoul holding up his slicked fingers for Swiss to see. They shine in the light and Swiss throbs at the sight. All at once, his words pour out in a confused pile.

"Rain, please, please - you - I - fuck, Rainy I need to, I - I can't, please, you -" With nothing inside him the pleasure starts to recede, and Swiss feels something frantic settling into his chest. "Please make me, please."

He needs Rain to make him cum. If he doesn't, Swiss will surely lose his mind. His breath hitches, a tight wheeze, and Rain shushes him. Caresses his thigh with deceptive gentleness. Swiss's head spins as he throbs again.

Rain disentangles their hands and Swiss nearly panicks at the lack of contact, but it only lasts long enough for the other ghoul to straighten up. Swiss's eyes catch on his cock, flushed and heavy, for just a moment before Rain leans over him, bracketing him with those long arms and catching him in a deep, full kiss.

Swiss sobs into it, immediately getting his hands on Rain's face and holding on for dear life while he tastes nothing but himself. He's shaking like a leaf, twitchy and pleasure-drunk. Rain's dripping length bumps his thigh and Swiss gasps as best he can. Rain pulls back to give him an entirely too sympathetic look.

"Alright," he sighs, resigned, "let me give you what you need."

Swiss tries to cling when Rain moves, but he's too weak. Too fucked out to do anything but quiver and pant. The other ghoul settles next to him, giving his cock a luxurious stroke. Swiss can't take his glassy eyes off of it. He's sure he must be drooling again.

"On your side."

Swiss blinks. On his side? What on his side? Rain rolls his eyes.

"Making me do all the work, as always."

Swiss yelps when Rain wraps a surprisingly strong arm around him, hauling him onto his side until they're back to chest. Rain feels cool and solid behind him, and it soothes some of the insanity scratching at his skull. He reaches back and grabs at Rain's hip, desperate to feel even remotely grounded. It helps a little - until Rain's hand hooks under his knee and pulls, lifting Swiss's dead weight leg and holding him wide open. The cool air against his drenched, aching cunt is a shock that has Swiss choking on his inhale.

Then Rain's blunt head bumps against his entrance and Swiss's whole body flinches at the feeling.

"R-Rain, wait, wait, you - oh no -" Swiss's eyes roll back as Rain drags the head though his folds, lighting up every single frayed nerve between his legs. He's never been so over- and under-stimulated at the same time. His mind begs him to get away even as his body screams for release, and at this point he'll do anything to get it.

"Stay still," Rain spits, hooking his chin over Swiss's shoulder. "Stop squirming, it's irritating."

Swiss tries, but he can't help the way every muscle dances beneath his skin. Threaded with tension and anticipation, tighter that the hole Rain was about to fill. He stills himself as best he can. Takes a deep breath. Focuses on the familiar press of Rain's lean torso against his back. It's not perfect stillness, but Rain's pleased growl flows into his ear regardless.

"Good boy."

Rain rocks his hips and sinks into Swiss's hungry cunt in one excruciating slide. Swiss doesn't register his throaty screams until Rain starts kissing his ear, making soft shushing sounds. A tiny crack in his visage of cruelty. He knows perfectly well how far he's pushed today, how much he still expects. He can spare Swiss a moment of kindness in his fragile state. His other arm snakes beneath Swiss's body, holding him close as he bottoms out.

Something in Swiss cracks then, and at long last the tears fall. He's too busy gasping at the intensity of the stretch to sob, simply letting them fall in hot streaks down hotter cheeks. Rain licks one away and huffs out a soft laugh, that little spark of kindness gone in a flash.

"I was wondering how long it would take for you to break," he murmurs, that disaffected tone back in full force despite the way Swiss can feel him twitching deep inside.

Everything hurts in a way he can't describe, deep pressure and searing heat. It's all built up at the apex of his thighs, and if Swiss had two brain cells to spare he'd already be working himself over. But he doesn't, and Rain wouldn't allow it anyway.

It takes him actual minutes to realize that Rain is just...sitting inside him. No movement aside from the pulses, the twitches. Swiss cants his hips but he has no leverage. Rain is as deep as he can go, and seems content to stay put. Swiss feels like he's dying.

"Move," he pleads, so much need forced into the one single word. "Rainy, you gotta -"

"Shh," Rain's free hand gives Swiss's nipple a sharp flick that he can barely even react to. His body doesn't seem to know what's where anymore. "You'll take what I give you. Besides," his hand travels slowly south and Swiss's soft sobs turn to hiccups of anticipation, "I'm giving you exactly what you need."

Rain's finger, callused but gentle, finally skates over the short length of his clit and Swiss yelps, trying to curl in on himself. He's never felt anything so intense, so visceral. Rain repeats the move over an over, sharp shocks of pained pleasure wracking Swiss's body until he's openly weeping, babbling Rain's name like a mantra. At length the rawness fades, the pain melts into all things good and Swiss's babbling turns to pure desperation. Into frail cries of more, more, more, while Rain's single skilled digit teases him.

"Needy whore," he breathes, licking at the shell of Swiss's ear. His hand shifts, Rain taking his stiff clit between two fingers and giving it a slow stroke. Relishing the way the hood slides over the swollen flesh. Swiss clenches so tightly that Rain can't help the groan it pulls from him.

"You're gonna cum for me, just like this," he informs Swiss, keeping a slow, steady pace to his strokes. His hips remain impossibly still, slotted inside Swiss like he belongs there, not offering more than a sense of fullness. The way Rain jerks him is shiver-inducing, but...

"Rain, I - faster, please, or move or - fuck, please, I gotta cum, I need to, for you -"

"Then you will," Rain mutters, "just like this. You cum on my cock or not at all. Understood?"

The pace is glacial and Swiss truly doesn't know if he can. For as good as it feels, for as much as this has all been too much and not enough, the threat of not cumming is enough to drag a fresh wave of overwhelmed tears from Swiss's burning eyes. He brings a shaky hand to rest on Rain's forearm, feeling the way the muscles shift. He says the only words he can find, voice small.

"Yes sir."

Rain's cock throbs so hard Swiss sees stars.

[iamthecomet]

I just got four shots so I can travel and I feel like shit. Can I have Rain and Dew? You decide what happens, but I just want some Rain and Dewdrop.

-Solar Ghoul

I hope you're feeling better now! I'm sorry I didn't get this out when you wanted it most. But I hope it was worth the wait. Messy tour bus shenanigans below the cut.

It's 2am when Dew slides into Rain's bunk. The bus bumps and sways as he slips from his bunk into Rain's. He doesn't bother to ask, or see if Rain's awake. Rain always sleeps like shit on the tour bus. So chances are he's still awake, or halfway there. He presses his warm body up against Rain's back. Snaking arm around him to press flat over Rain's belly button. He feels the steady rise and fall of Rain's breath. Feels the way it hitches when Dew's hand slips up under his shirt to find soft skin.

Dew hooks his chin against Rain's shoulder, hot breath fanning over his neck, nose nuzzling into Rain's dark curls. He smells like the venue. Cigarettes, stale beer, chlorinated water, generic soap. Rain makes a small noise and shifts, turning his head and dislodging Dew's face so they can look at each other. Rain blinks blearily at him. He takes one of his earbuds out and offers it to Dew. He's barely awake.

Dew will deny until the day he dies the way his heart clenches in his chest when Rain looks at him like this. Dew takes the earbud, fits it in his ear.

He has to turn his head to muffle his laugh in Rain's pillow. "Seriously?"

"What?" Rain asks, rolling onto his other side so they're face to face.

"How is Nine Inch Nails, sleeping music?"

"Whatever works," Rain replies with a shrug.

Dew slips his hand around to rest on the back of Rain's neck. He pulls until Rain tips his head down and presses their foreheads together.

"What are you doing here, Dewdrop?"

Dew slips his other hand up under Rain's t-shirt, grazing calloused fingers over the soft hair on Rain's belly. His tail comes to curl around one of Rain's thighs loosely.

"Can't sleep."

"So you thought feeling me up would help?"

"Usually does." Dew doesn't bother trying to fake innocence. He just drags his fingers up higher to thumb over one of Rain's nipples. He uses his tail to tug Rain's leg over his hip. He grinds his hips up. Dew's already hard, has been for the better part of twenty minutes. Laying in the bunk above Rain's trying to decide if he just wanted to jerk off or if he wanted to make it Rain's problem. It's always more fun with a partner. He can feel how Rain is fattening up through the thin sweatpants. Another grind of their hips together has Rain gasping. He tips his head back and Dew latches onto the side of his neck with tongue and teeth, sucking a deep bruise onto his skin while Rain grabs Dew's hips and drags him forward, slotting their bodies further together.

"Dew," Rain gasps, reaching up to pull at Dew's hair to try to dislodge him. "Dew, please."

"Please what, Raincloud?" "You started this, the least you can do is touch me." "'m taking my time," Dew says, digging his teeth into the skin above Rain's collarbone. Rain makes a reedy noise. Dew thinks after all this time that Rain should be used to this, or that Dew should be used to how quickly Rain unravels under Dew's ministrations. But it never ceases to floor him. To send rolling desire through his stomach. It takes almost nothing, a couple well-placed bites, the grind of their hips together, to reduce Rain into a needy puddle. "Gotta be quiet," Dew whispers, pressing a line of open-mouth kisses up Rain's throat, over his jaw. "Don't want to wake up the whole bus." It's a fool's errand, Dew knows. Before he goes too far he's going to have to shove his fingers, or Rain's shirt, or even the corner of the pillow into Rain's mouth. Rain is quiet until someone gets a hand on his dick, and then he loses all volume control.

"Bet you're slick already," Dew whispers, his lips almost pressed against Rain's, their breath mingling in the minuscule space.

Rain nods. "C'mon, Dew. Don't be mean."

"This isn't mean," Dew chides. If it wasn't the middle of the night on a tour bus he'd show Rain mean. He'd work him up. Finger him until he cried. Whisper filth into his ear until he was begging for it.

Dew wishes for a hotel. Wishes for a way to press Rain into a mattress and really give him everything he wants. He settles for dragging both of their pants down to their thighs. He offers his palm to Rain's mouth. He doesn't even have to ask. Rain licks a sloppy path up Dew's palm.

Dew wraps his slick hand around both of them. Rain's wet already, dripping precum, making the slide even easier. Dew covers Rain's mouth with his other hand just before Rain starts to whine. He basks in the muffled noises, the shake of Rain's body against his, the way Rain grips hard at his t-shirt. Rain fucks up into his fist. Dew does the same, holding his hand steady and rolling his cock against Rain's in coordinated strokes. "Can't wait to get you in a real bed," Dew whispers. "Gonna take such good care of you. Get you so loud the whole hotel knows exactly what I'm doing to you. Make everyone jealous." Rain shudders, the thrusts of his hips going erratic already. "You'd like that, huh? You wanna go to breakfast the next day covered in bruises. Make sure everyone in the whole building knows how good I fuck you." Rain's eyes roll up in his head. He bites down hard on Dew's palm when he cums. Cock kicking hard against Dew's, cumming in thick spurts all over both of them. "Oh fuck," Dew groans. Rain manages to pull one of his hands away from its death grip on Dew's shirt. He bats Dew's messy hand away and takes over, stroking him from root to tip, slicked with Rain's cum and the mix of their pre. Dew closes his eyes. His head thumps forward to rest against Rain's collarbone. "Satanas, Rainy. I'm gonna, shit." Dew turns his head to dig his fangs into Rain's pillow as he cums, adding to the mess between them. Rain pulls him into a kiss as he comes down. It's soft, easy, sleepy. Dew has just enough energy left to pull his pants back up before he's drifting off in the circle of Rain's arms. He'll deal with the mess in the morning.

[blindmagdalena]

Here is an idea in a similar flavor as murder spouses- Homelander managing to control himself for a long time because he doesn't want to scare his S/O but one day he snaps and S/O walks in on him covered in blood and they look terrified, but instead of screaming like Homelander braced himself for his S/O runs to him and hugs him, checking him over for any injuries despite him being the strongest man alive and they ask in a soft and nervous voice "Are you okay? Are you hurt, my love?"

Bewildered, Homelander watches you touch him. Don't you care? Don't you care that there's still-warm blood staining him where you touch, dirtying your pristine hands? You barely seem to notice. You just stare up at him. Your heart is racing, but it isn't fear. Tentatively, Homelander lifts his gloved hand. He shouldn't touch you, he knows. His hands are drenched, but he cannot stop himself. He presses his palm flat to your chest. Hearing it isn't enough. He has to feel it. Your heart thuds into his palm, your chest rises and falls shallowly. You're not afraid of him. You're afraid for him.

"It's not mine," he answers at last, voice quiet, reedy. Drawing his hand away, he has left a perfect bloody handprint on your chest. His brows furrow, gaze flickering up to meet yours. You still aren't scared. You look relieved. "Thank god," you whisper. Homelander kisses the word right off your lips, holding your shoulders tight. He moves so swiftly that you gasp, his grip on you flexing, needy. You make a noise against his lips that he swallows up greedily, slipping his tongue into your mouth. He feels wild with it, like he could devour you whole for what you've done. For loving him the way you do. "Say it again," he murmurs, voice harsh and low in the sparse space between your lips. It takes you a moment. "Thank god?" You echo, more a question than a statement now. Homelander exhales roughly, kissing you again, growing more desperate by the second. That you would thank god for him with blood on your hands, the smell of it thick between you... It's enough to send him to frenzy. "Am I really the only thing you give a fuck about?" He asks, squeezing your arms almost too tight. He needs to take off these fucking gloves. He needs to feel you, but he can't let go of you yet. "Yes," you say breathlessly, eyes wide. "Yes. Only you." "Fuck," Homelander hisses. The mess can wait. All that matters now is you.

[seonghwalazia]

the gentle rise of ruin. | Hongjoong/Seonghwa

» summary: He’s gentle, at first. Careful, when he traces the elegant slope of Seonghwa’s throat with his knuckles. The hard press of his rings makes Seonghwa shiver, lashes fluttering a darkened smudge against his cheeks that makes Hongjoong ache to see them stained with tears.

» pairing: Dom!Hongjoong / Sub!Seonghwa

» rating: Explicit

» content warning for pwp, blowjobs, wet & messy, dom/sub, finger sucking, choking, dacryphilia

» author's note: idk i saw some photos of hj with every gd finger studded in rings. got so hard i blacked out. this was written when i came to

» ao3 link

He’s gentle, at first. Careful, when he traces the elegant slope of Seonghwa’s throat with his knuckles. The hard press of his rings makes Seonghwa shiver, lashes fluttering a darkened smudge against his cheeks that makes Hongjoong ache to see them stained with tears. He follows the line of his jaw, thumb reaching to drag against his bottom lip. Seonghwa sighs, soft as silk, and tilts his head back in open invitation. He belongs here, Hongjoong thinks; pretty as a painting, prostrating himself on bruised knees. Eyes gone hazy with lust, flushing right down to his dusky nipples. Hongjoong could ruin him easily, gratefully; and he knows Seonghwa would thank him for it.

Less tender, very nearly brutal, when his hand moves to cup the hollow of Seonghwa’s throat. Fingertips digging in and wrenching his head forward. And Hongjoong relishes in his stuttered gasp, the sound broken and needy and wrapping around him until his blood sings. Seonghwa blinks up at him with those wide and lovely eyes, dusting of pink high on his cheeks and lips softly parted. Hongjoong wants to devour him, wants him to choke and gasp and gag and struggle until the only sound that remains from that kiss-swollen wicked little mouth is the broken syllables of Hongjoong’s name.

He leans down to capture Seonghwa’s mouth in a bruising kiss, more teeth than tender. He licks into his mouth, tongue flicking expertly against Seonghwa’s upper lip, taking what he needs. Claiming his territory, with an eager mouth and fingers that tighten on his throat until he can practically taste Seonghwa’s reedy little gasp of rampant desire. Teeth sinking down into his bottom lip, thumb rubbing a soothing rhythm over the rush of his pulse point - Seonghwa shudders from head to foot, whining into his mouth as he begs without words to be ruined. 

And Hongjoong is nothing if not merciful - he grins, lazy and with the edge of something wicked, before using his free hand to unbuckle his belt with quick and clever fingers. Groaning softly when the hardened rise of his cock is free of its confines, he fists his shaft and gives a few slow jerks. Seonghwa runs the tip of his tongue over Hongjoong’s lower lip, breath stuttering out as he shifts on impatient knees, muscles in his thighs tense and straining. He wants - eagerly, ardently, long lashes fluttering prettily as he sucks in a ragged breath, Hongjoong tightening his grip around his neck until all he can hear is the harried thunder of his pulse.

Hongjoong breaks the kiss, mouth swollen and spit shining on the both of them. He’s hard enough it aches, right down to his bones, but he doesn't think Seonghwa is ruined enough for his taste. He tsks beneath his breath, head tilted to the side to admire his handiwork. Seonghwa with eyes rolling back, barely able to breathe, spit drooling from his mouth to slick his chin, pink lips shining sweetly. Hair curling and sticking to his nape from sweat, perky little nipples begging for attention. His cock throbs at the sight, his low laughter musical and very nearly husky when he rubs the pad of his thumb across the weeping head. He gathers his precome until his fingertips are slick, rocking Seonghwa forward before shoving two fingers between those pretty, pink, parted lips.

He loosens his hold on his neck when Seonghwa gags, eyes scrunched shut until he gets that sweet crinkle in his nose. It makes his cock twitch between his legs, biting down hard enough on his bottom lip that iron blooms across his tongue. Seonghwa swallows greedy lungfuls of air, eyes flashing open to lock on Hongjoong’s face; tears already springing in his eyes, but nothing if not obedient. The taste of his precome lingering heavy on his palate, a promise of what’s to come should he perform as well as he usually does. His cheeks hollow, giving a firm suck on Hongjoong’s already wet fingers; he always looked best with a cock halfway down his throat, but this earnest imitation will have to do. It has the desired effect, regardless; Seonghwa is the picture of bliss, tongue working carefully over and around Hongjoong’s fingers, spit gathering in pools until it spills past his lips to soak Hongjoong’s hand. 

His teeth catch on the rise of one of his rings, mouth worshipping the shine of silver and gold. He moans, loud and unashamed, when Hongjoong presses his fingers firmly down on his tongue and tightens his ironclad grip over his throat until his breath is utterly stolen. Mind going hazy, Seonghwa is blissfully unaware of anything save the heady press of Hongjoong’s fingers, back arching and hips jutting forward to beg wordless for a shred of mercy on behalf of his ignored cock. 

He starts to list to the side, in desperate need of oxygen. The only answer is Hongjoong’s laughter, breaking against his sweat-slicked skin like a wave. But his choking grip loosens, and Seonghwa bares his teeth as he struggles to gasp for air. His eyes linger on Hongjoong’s face, a flush of tears making his eyes look brighter, the flush on his cheeks all that more fetching. 

“Not yet,” Hongjoong croons to him, saccharine sweet and tender as a bruise. The edge of his grin as sharp as a knife, he rubs a soothing rhythm against Seonghwa’s battered throat, standing to full height. Fingers slipping from his mouth, grin widening when Seonghwa whines at the loss of contact, he fists the base of his cock and drags Seonghwa forward. 

He makes it look easy. Mouth opening, tongue jutting out; Hongjoong swears for a moment he feels the integrity of his knees threaten to fail. Beautiful, he thinks, when he moves his hand from Seonghwa’s throat to his hair. Fisting the soft locks at the crown of his head, Hongjoong stays utterly still as he pulls Seonghwa forward. Cock sliding past those swollen lips, hilting himself until he feels the back of his throat. Beautiful, he tells him, when Seonghwa gags once more, Hongjoong’s only response to tighten his grip until he knows it burns. Rings shining in the low light, neck bruised and chin soaked making Seonghwa an absolute vision of profane delectation that has Hongjoong seeing stars. 

His mouth is warm and welcoming, as wet as a cunt from his earlier efforts. Hongjoong fucks him shallow, content to let him adjust. Seonghwa keeping his bright eyes locked on his face, tear tracks following the sharp line of his cheekbone when he hollows his cheeks and moves to Hongjoong’s rhythm. To be used like a toy, pretty and perfect as Hongjoong ruins him.

His breathing stutters, just a bit, when Seonghwa uses his tongue. Tracing the ridge at the head of his cock, precome spilling down his throat until he moans unabashedly at the taste. It is a vulgar thing, but Seonghwa manages to make it beautiful nonetheless. And the sounds he makes; he moans around Hongjoong’s shaft, sucking and licking and looking far too fucking pleased with himself, lips parting obscenely as he allows himself a smirk.

Hongjoong tightens his trembling hand in Seonghwa’s hair, the other sweeping across his cheek to feel the tacky tears he’d made. He feels the blunt edge of teeth tease gently, so gently, over the swollen head of his cock, and Hongjoong can't stop the buck of his hips. Throat finally relaxing, Seonghwa swallows him down to the hilt with a moan deep in his chest, vibrating through Hongjoong’s cock until he gasps out an approximation of his name. 

His hips stutter forward as he impales Seonghwa on his cock, slipping past the back of his throat until he can bruise him from the inside. Hard and fast, Hongjoong refuses to abate; listens to Seonghwa choke on his length, spit drooling from his lips until it runs a river down his chin and drips down to his chest. It’s a mess but Hongjoong cannot look away, not when Seonghwa’s eyes are heavy-lidded, muscles relaxed as he allows himself to be used. 

Hongjoong comes down his throat with a low moan, holding Seonghwa flush against him until his nose presses to his groin. He spills wordless, teeth bared and balls tightening, and doesn't pull away until he goes soft and heavy on Seonghwa’s tongue. Slipping free of his mouth, using his grip to tilt Seonghwa’s face up to press their mouths together. It’s slick, salacious, shameless; but the only sound that remains from that ruined and wicked little mouth is the broken syllables of Hongjoong’s name.

[thecouchsofa]

needy (im so weak for that word for some reason)

✨🪩 Word Excerpt Ask Game 🪩✨

Featuring 'needy' 😏😏, taken from November Flush (5k, E, 2023)

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, the sound reedy. “Fucking hell.”

Malfoy swipes his tongue across him, wet and warm. He groans against Harry’s arse, sending vibrations through Harry’s balls. Harry can feel how wet he is from Malfoy’s tongue, loose and needy. He clenches his toes when he thinks about how wet Malfoy’s face must be, how he’ll taste and smell of Harry for hours if he doesn’t wash his face.

Malfoy sits back then, his breaths loud. He stands, Harry’s wrists rotating to accommodate his change of stance. He flicks at Harry’s inner thigh, laughs when Harry jumps. His fingers are wet and cool when he presses them against Harry, lube summoned or conjured, Harry doesn’t know. He’s more preoccupied with rocking his hips against Malfoy’s stupid mahogany table, trying to get some form of friction on his aching cock.

Malfoy shoves two fingers into him roughly, making Harry gasp and arch his back. Malfoy always does it that way, fast and rough and exactly how Harry likes it. Maybe one day, when he’s old or in his marital bed or something of the sort, he’ll like it slow and romantic, but certainly not now. Certainly not with Malfoy.