idk what it is about peter hammills scrawny ass but jesus.

THOUGHTS ABOUT SIMON STUFFING YOUR STOCKINGS IN YOUR MOUTH.

cw: fluff, comfort, pure smut from the very start, established relationship, male and female anatomy, slightly posessive behavior, gagging (with stockings), reader don't talk much and at all, intense sex, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, pet names, squirting, emotional outburst, crying after orgasm, aftercare, caring simon. pairing: bf simon ghost riley x gf fem reader

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

you've been in this position for a while, when simon's mind focused solely on the primal act of fucking you.

he holds your legs gathered together in the air, pressing them to your left shoulder, exposing your sopping cunt that continues to dribble with slick and cum from the amount of his previous loads, buried securely deep inside you.

with each harsh thrust, he probes at your spongy spot and cervix, pushing you deeper into a state of pleasure induced bliss, the force of his muscular, slightly hairy hips causes your tits to jiggle, adding to the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body that fidget against the crumpled sheets with each movement.

your eyes roll back, lost in the intensity of the moment, as you drool and mewl pitifully, the black stockings stuffed in your mouth serve as a harsh gag, muffling your sounds of pleasure and submission to this primal act between you two, which started right because of the cloth, that you currently wet with your drool.

— “look a' you, all — hhfh, fucked out, plian' thing„

simon snarls and huffs almost animal like, the intensity of the moment causing sweat to gather on his forehead as is dark, hungry gaze locks onto your rolled eyes and the way your head tips back, lost in the dizzying pleasure.

he continues to fuck you with an insatiable hunger, driving himself further into your warm and wet cunt, the loud slaps of his thighs against your ass fill the room, punctuated by the wet squelches each time his meaty, veiny cock sinks back into the mix of fluids.

with each thrust, he covers himself in the milky, sticky mess, marking you as his own over and over and reveling in the raw, carnal connection between you.

you moas and arch your body like a broken string, and simon relishes in these sounds, knowing well that this an another orgasm is building within you, the unbearable tightness in your lower abdomen only adds to the anticipation.

as his thrusts push forward, fat tip of his cock snaps against your cervix with a force that leaves you gasping, it's as if he's trying to mold you from the inside to fit the shape of his throbbing, upward curving cock, hitting all the right spots to drive you wild and cry for more.

you raise your shaking hands in feeble attempt, scratching at his scarred and sweaty chest, leaving behind red thin marks in your wake, he emits a mixture of a chuckle and a moan, a primal sound that escapes him when he feels your cunt flutter and pulse around him, tightening with each passing moment, making him taunt almost cruelly

— “pussy is swallowing me whole, going to cum, darling girl? you going to — haah, heck, cum for me again?„

of course, he doesn't wait for an possible answer, just continues his relentless assault, driving himself deeper into you with each forceful thrust, the sound of his powerful slaps against your flesh fills the room, accompanied by his brutal grip on your long ago limped legs, the sheer pleasure is so overwhelming that you're lightheaded, completely lost in the sensation of being fucked stupid on his cock, not feeling anything except how he fucks you, manhandles you.

your body jiggles with each collision of his body against yours, your ass raw from the each new impact, the cloth stuffed in your mouth muffles your sounds to gurgles of pleasure, adding to the intensity of the moment, as your whole body trembles slightly, a result of the intense feelings building in your stomach.

the sight of the bulge from his shaft is the furthest thing from your mind as you surrender to the overwhelming pleasure, yet it still making you gush harder and him go deeper

— “jus' look a' you, go' a bump from my cock, shit, looking jus' like a dre — dream.. h-hu.. c-cuming!„

and finally, simon's body tenses, slightly soft muscles on his stomach going rigid as he reaches the peak of his pleasure, with a final, forceful thrust that snaps you, he empties himself fully inside you, painting your walls with thick ropes of his cum, filling you up nicely.

as the sensation of his cum flooding inside overwhelms you, your eyes flutter and your eyelashes tremble, you reach your own climax, arching your back and writhing on the sheets.

trembles run and wrack through your body as you release spurts of hot liquid, a mixture of your own clear squirt and his cum, soaking his cock and staining the sheets beneath you, the room is immediately filled with the scent of sex and the sound of heavy breathing, marking the culmination of everything that happened.

simon, through slightly shocked by the wetness of your pulsing hole and the fact that you just squirted, breathes heavily as he slips out of you with ease, his cock is drenched and sticky, coated in strings of his own cum and your slick.

your folds continue to flutter and release globes of his slightly watery cum, mixing with your own squirt and dribbling down your swollen flesh.

but the warmth of the moment is juxtaposed by the thick tears sliding down your cheeks as you whimper and mewl, the fabric in your mouth muffling the sounds of your pleasure and sudden vulnerability, mixed, intense feelings bring moisture to your eyes.

simon immediately releases your legs with a newfound softness and awareness, gently placing them down from their previously elevated position in the air, as he rubs your thighs with a gentle touch, feeling the tension in your muscles and circling his fingers over them, trying to provide you with kind of relief.

with a tender gesture, he slips the stocking out of your mouth, letting it fall to the floor as he tosses it aside, and there is room for a concern that fills his flaring brown eyes, as he watches you hiccup and sob openly, continuing to massage your thighs, murmuring softly as he asks if he went too far this time, trying to understand why you're crying

— “you alright, love? i'm, shi' — i'm sorry, did i wen' too far? did i hur' you?»

you shake your head gently, feeling your head spin at even the slightest movement, and he just nods in understanding, as he sees that you're physically fine, even if you can't find the words to speak, he understands.

simon takes charge silently and momentarily, gathering you up in his strong arms, holding you against his broad, yet soft chest, on which you lean with soft sigh of comfort and absolute limpness in your body and mind.

he carries you with ease, his muscles supporting your weight as he takes you to the bathroom, there, he prepares a warm bath, ensuring the water is just right, just so he would gently set you down in the tub, helping you relax and soak away the remnants of your encounter, as well as comfort you with careful massaging movements of his thick palms and soft touches of washcloth and soap against your body and swollen pussy.

afterwards, he'll surely take care to change the drenched sheets, replacing them with fresh ones for obvious better comfort, and throughout it all, simon pampers you, attending to your needs, and providing comfort until you eventually drift off to sleep in his strong, protective embrace, snoring against his chest under warm blanket and tender kisses that he press to your head and temple, murmuring an familiar, loving words — “sleep tight, darling„.

Looking for release

Pairing: dbf!Santiago García x sub!top!male reader

CWs: Reader is anywhere from 19 to his early twenties, age gap, underwear sniffing, slight scent kink, Santi has a hairy ass, praising, rimming, creampie.

Description: With guests at your house using your room and the couch being repaired, you have no option but to stay in your dad's hot best friend Santi's house. When he leaves the house shortly, you start exploring the place and make an awesome discovery...

Please reblog if you liked this story!

Your parents had dropped you off at your dad’s best friend Santiago’s house, you had guests coming over and they were too many for the guest room, so they had to use your room as well, and your couch was being repaired, leaving you no option but to go to Santi’s house. It wasn’t like you minded though… Santi was eye candy to look at, he had salt and pepper hair, dark brown eyes, plump lips and a pretty good physique for someone in their 40s, and you’d also seen he had a happy trail from when he and your dad bathed in the pool together. So a week with your dad’s hot best friend definitely wasn’t one of your complaints.

When you arrived at his apartment he was outside waiting for you already. “What’s up, boy?” he asked, hugging you. Boy… him calling you that was so hot. “Here, I got your room ready” he said while he smiled and helped you haul your stuff to what would be your room for the next week. “Do you need help here or can you do it yourself?” he asked, looking sexy as hell, like always. You spent the next 20 minutes organizing your clothes and plugging your chargers, etc. When you finished, Santi walked back into the room, “Hey, I’m just gonna go to the store for some bread cause I forgot we ran out, I’ll be back soon” he waved goodbye and left, leaving you alone in Santi’s house. 

You roamed around his house, it was a well decorated one, unusual for a guy like him, the table was nicely set out and his couch was extremely comfortable to sit in. His kitchen was pretty organized aside from a few plates that needed washing, and the place had great lighting too. You looked at the pictures on his wall, some were just paintings and some were of him and his friends, they all looked attractive, just like Santi. As you kept exploring the house you eventually walked into his room… it was what you’d expect from a bedroom.. a bed, some clothes laying around and a work desk. You were in this extremely hot man’s room… you realized as you felt something stir in your pants. And in one corner of the room, right next to his bathroom door, there was a dirty laundry basket… you wouldn’t… right?

But your mind was pretty much clouded with the fact that those clothes were Santi’s dirty clothes… you opened the basket and looked inside… as if the gods knew what you wanted, you found Santi’s boxers… you wouldn’t.. right? Right? 

Moments later you were walking back to your room, his boxers in your hands as you laid on the bed and… sniffed them. They smelt manly, it was clear he’d used these as the scent went into your nostrils and god did you enjoy it. You freed your rock hard cock and started to stroke it, desperate to cum… the effect his clothes were having on you… you needed this man carnally. You held the underwear to your nose and sniffed as you jerked off. It must have been 10 minutes that you were doing this until someone’s voice snapped you out of your horny frenzy, it was Santi. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, you thought this was it.. but he didn’t seem particularly angry, he seemed pretty chill for someone who’d just seen his best friend’s son sniff his dirty underwear… “is that my underwear, y/n?” he asked, with a slight smug. You realized there was no way out but to tell the truth.

“Y-yes…” you stuttered… your cheeks were boiling hot due to embarrassment and shame, “Tell me, y/n.. do you find me attractive?” he asked you, raising his eyebrow, but once again, he didn’t look nor seem mad.. you decided to confess, “Fine, yes I do.. since forever.. and I was just exploring the h-” you started “It’s okay.. can’t say I’d resist either if I found yours” he smirked lustfully, you couldn’t believe it.. your dad’s friend who you’d found incredibly hot for ages just said he couldn’t resist smelling your undies if he found them… so.. he basically just said he found you hot too..

“So… you’re looking for a release… I can give that to you…” he smirked, running his hand up your bare thigh, close to your hard cock, “But you have to work for it” he smirked, you wondered what he meant “What do I have to do?” you asked curiously, “Ever heard about rimming, boy?” he asked, god, the way he called you “boy” was so fucking hot. “Yeah” you replied, figuring out what he wanted, and you definitely weren’t gonna say no. “How ‘bout you eat my ass for a while?” he kept smug as he took off his pants and underwear, showing you his hole, spreading his legs. It was dark pink and his cheeks had some hair… it was driving you crazy. You nervously got between his legs and looked up at him, “Go on boy… feast on it..” he said as you pressed your tongue to his hole.

His ass tasted sweet and slightly musky, but it was incredible to you. You couldn't believe what you were doing… eating your dad’s best friend ass… but you definitely weren’t gonna stop now, you fucking loved it. You’d never done this before, but somehow your eagerness made up for the lack of experience, “Oh fuck- you’re good at this..” he mouthed as you hungrily ate him out, desperate to please him. “Such a dirty boy, aren’t you? Sniffing my underwear.. you really love scents, huh?” he asked, taking his shirt off as well, “I’ll show you scents later if you’re good~” he smirked, you nodded aggressively and whimpered as you ate his ass. God, he tasted so addictive.

You gently placed your hand on his asscheeks, wanting to feel his round ass but not acting too quickly either, “It’s okay boy.. touch it, indulge yourself..” he groaned, you grabbed his asscheek hard as well as his thigh as his taste spurred you on further. By now, you were licking inside him, having loosened that tight ring of muscle enough. “You can lick more places, boy..” he suggested, making you switch from his ass to his balls, they smelled like his underwear, but much, much stronger, not that you minded though. You licked and worshiped his balls for a while like you did with his ass while he complimented you with names such as “good boy”. You switched back to his hole and you were starting to get completely ass drunk. Your long forgotten cock was standing hard and leaking, you were so aroused it was almost overwhelming. 

Suddenly, Santiago told you to get on the bed. You followed his orders of course, “You’ve been a very good boy for me, amor..” he said, that sexy smug on his face as he showed you his hole, “you can put it inside” he said, your mind went into overdrive, your cock was gonna be in Santi’s ass! “It’s big..” he said as he said “gonna enjoy making it mine..” he said with a smirk, the prospect of your cock being made into Santi’s toy for his pleasure was a synonym of heaven for you. He gave you some lube and you put it on your cock, it felt heavenly as you put it inside him, he was so tight and his hole had a vice grip on your cock. “F-fuck-” you had to moan, “Tight hm? Probably the tightest one you’ve had…” he smirked as he stroked himself. You slowly sank into him, inch by inch until you were finally balls deep inside him, you started to gasp in pleasure, you really wanted to start thrusting, but you knew better than that, you could tell Santi liked ordering you around. 

It was a full minute before Santi told you to start thrusting.. and when you did, you could feel butterflies in your stomach, he was gripping your cock so hard inside him, you were worried that it was even gonna get squashed. “Holy fuck- Santi-” you weren’t sure if you’d last long, Santi’s hole was sucking you into him, almost trying to jerk you off, you grabbed his ass and buried your face in his neck, you immediately the smell of his cologne and his natural smell. God, he smelt so manly, so potent, so powerful, you felt the need to please him, that you needed to impress him in some way. You were so hypnotized with him that you completely forgot you were thrusting into him, “Just like that- good boy~" he moaned, “you’ve got a pretty big dick- feels good-” that compliment sent shockwaves down your body, this man who had a chokehold on you was saying you were doing a good job, you had to resist cumming. 

You sped up, still careful and trying to last long enough to make Santi cum at least once, and there was the cocky son of a bitch, in absolute bliss, with no worries and dominating you without having to lift a single finger, while you were over here struggling to not cum. You needed to step up your game to make him actually moan loudly, so you sped up a little more, angled your dick just to the right angle towards his prostate and wrapped your hand around his thick, hard cock, “Fuck yeah, now that’s what I’m talking about..” he said, as the sound of slapping skin started to identify. However, the tables definitely hadn’t turned, you were still trying to impress Santi and his pleasure was still the priority.

The next 15 minutes were absolute bliss, you were definitely achieving your goal to impress Santi, the man was now moaning and praising you non-stop. However, your uphill battle with your orgasm eventually caught up to you. “Fuck- Santi- I’m gonna-” you were desperate, you didn’t know where he was gonna let you cum “No worries boy, just cum inside” he replied with a smirk, those words tipped you over the edge as you splattered a huge load in his hole, still thrusting. “Fucking Christ-” Santi cursed as he too finally reached his release, spewing his orgasm all over himself.

You buried your face in his neck and stayed there for.. 15? 20 minutes? You didn’t know, all you knew was that you had just had the best orgasm in your life with the hottest man you’d ever seen. “You want anything?” he asked you, you realized you were thirsty as hell, “Some water?” you asked.

“Okay, I’ll be back with it then,” he said as he stood up “Don’t clean up by the way, we’ve still got to do a lot more…”.

transmasc reader smut with jonathan crane pls?

Sure! I hope I didn't made any mistakes, I don't write often fics with transmasc readers so I really hope I didn't write bullshit or offensive things. 🙏

Domestic Sunday morning

◇ Pairing: Jonathan Crane X Partner!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, based on the sex position called 'seated wheelbarrow', fluff, marriage, work, age gap (both off age), pronouns they/them but reader has female genitals and body

◇ Summary: Jonathan works while fucking his Y/n.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

"Darling, could you pass me those sheets on the table... yes, on your right" Jonathan requested, his light blue eyes focused on his laptop which was resting on Y/n's back due to the odd position they were in.

His cock was buried deep inside of them, enjoying their tight pussy clenching around him at each slow and deep thrust he did.

It was just 10 am but both were pretty engrossed in their work beyond their carnal love, since they still gave in their needs and desire even when they had other things to do.

The last time that that had happened, they were both busy but aroused, aching for each other till they were "forced" to try with different positions so to satisfy them both— like reverse cowgirl but Y/n had to bounce and couldn't study without getting distracted; while when they tried the classic missionary position in hope to be able to work while fucking... they had a similar result, this time causing them both to get distracted.

That was the main reason why they were in that position, because of another experiment of the couple, who opted this time to try the so called 'seated wheelbarrow', in their living room.

Y/n was lying forward, their elbows resting on the table with their chest which was covered by their boy-ish shirt, while their stomach was on his lap, allowing them to keep their hips spread almost resting on the chops of the armchair where Jonathan was sitting.

His hairy thighs spread as well, his cock inside of their cunt as one of his hand rested on their ass cheek and the other one busy typing on the laptop.

"Thank you" his low voice murmured while his calloused hand gave a teasing squeeze at their flesh as soon as Y/n managed to pass him the papers he needed.

The scene was quite domestic and so casual as if it was normal for them to have sex while focusing on other tasks. In fact neither of them were bothered by the juices which were slowly dripping on the fabric of the armchair

"Honey, move bit faster, please. You're brushing just the right spot" Y/n hummed softly while taking notes from the book they had to read to pass their next exam in uni, a soft frown on their face while they accepted Jonathan's advices and random help as his hips increased the speed to allow his cock to go deeper and bring them on the edge before starting all over again till they were both done.

baby talking price when he's in a grumpy mood like "who's my little grumpy bear?" while you pepper his neck with kisses and he can't help but lighten up a little when you do that .. you just love babying the hell out of him when he's upset!! and he gives in every time!! lil grumpy bear price <3 <3 <3

it's the way you always know when he's grumpy to. every single thing he's doing he'll mutter to himself, cursing or his brows are stuck in a furrowed position as he reads through files while sitting on the couch, in bed, etc.

he'll huff in defeat, putting whatever he's looking at to the side before he's hovering over you. "i'm not little." he mutters, face nuzzling your neck as his beard scratches against your skin. any anger or frustration leaving his body as you giggle, pulling him closer to you.

ugh. i need that hairy, round belly man so bad. religiously, biblically, carnally, everything.

anyway i always think im not obsessed with halsin and then i start talking about how primal he is. how he would be caught up in the ecstasy of your body and lose control of the animal inside. how he would never mean to hurt you, but once he lost control, once he let the beast out, there's no going back. he's so strong he can have you any way he wants. definitely face down in the dirt like a beast, but you would be a ragdoll under his strength... up against a tree... bouncing you on his cock, his big hands bruisingly tight at your hips... on your hands and knees, his fist in your hair yanking you up to taste the tender flesh of your neck... marking you with his teeth, making you his. crazed with his primal lust. by the time he finishes with you, come down from the rush of his carnal desires, spent himself completely, you would be grazed and bruised and aching everywhere, but by the gods would you be utterly sated.

and he would bundle you up in his arms so gently, so carefully. back at camp, he would clean you up with a warm damp cloth and tend to the bruises and grazes and bite marks, kissing every mark as he works, worshipping your body. he'd apologise for the deeper bruises even as he uses his druidic magic to heal you. he'd tuck you into his bedroll, safe in his tent, and he'd settle in behind you, wrapping those big arms around you securely. you'd be asleep in minutes, exhausted and warm and comfortable and safe and just. so satisfied and cozy, pressed up against your bear of a man.

anyway god i love halsin. big and primal and passionate and full of love. so effortlessly strong he'd accidentally break you with the force of his lovemaking, but he would put you back together so tenderly. also his hairy tits.

A/N: This has no title, it’s unedited, I started writing it last night because I’m just a slut for Joe K’s hands. And I’ve been in a Steve mood for a few days, so here is this trash… lol.

Warnings: Language, NSFW, smutty content, & grinding.

Steve Harrington’s hands are gonna be the ultimate undoing of your young adult life. The prominent veins that path across the top of them and through his defined forearms. The tendons that flex with each movement the limb makes, whether it’s to grip your hand in his, hold onto a weapon to defend your formed family, or even use a pen at work. Then there’s how his fingers taste, depending on whatever he’s eaten, today, however, they like the sugar off his cinnamon twist donut he’d previously scarfed down, as they press on your tongue, wiggling, while his fat sock is nestled against your thighs, pushed into your swollen labia, not yet venturing inside. His tip is red, cock throbbing, jumping at every brush your dripping slick makes, catching on his member and stretching between you two with a sticky shine. His jugular looks deliciously snack worthy, as his tongue is bared to glide atop his bottom lip, sucking it between his teeth to bite down, his hand (that isn’t in your mouth), paused around your thigh.

You’re practically purring like a little kitten, rocking into that hefty palm of his. “Stevie, touch me. Please?”

You fumble to find your top and tug it off with a bra cup, lacing your fingers through his left hand, hoisting him into a splayed caress. Your nipple immediately hardens against his stimulating touch, and you lose all self control, his fingers popping free from your tongue. “Yeah, daddy?”

Steve’s pupils are blown so wide, it’s a mere hazel ring, flecks of cinnamon floating within his pupils. “Oh, honey, please.” He’s begging, fighting every carnal urge not to take hold of his cock and fuck you until your muscles are sore, body weak, and your cunt full of his spend for the rest of the day.

You leave his guided hand on your breast, your hands pushing beneath his shirt and sweater combo, running through tufts of thick chest hair. He moves to cradle your jaw when your nails pinch his nipples, mouth lowering to attack his neck with your littering bites. He tosses his head back against the headrest, swallowing into a particularly warm flick of your tongue over his adam’s apple. His windows have long since streaked with winter’s condensation and shared panting breaths. Steve isn’t even inside you yet, but he’s close to coming before anything begins.

You smirk as he places a meaty hand across your lower back for further support, his spread legs stretching out beneath you, hairy thighs tickling the backs of your calves, his pants and boxers around his ankles, his belt buckling clinking with his movements. “Swear m’ gonna cum if you don’t stop that, sweetheart.”

“Already? You’re not even inside me, baby.” Your hands remove themselves from his sweater, greedily messing up his chocolate tresses, tugging, making his cock jump against your clit, a sopping wetness spilling from your cunt and slicking the curls at the base of his shaft with your cream.

It’s an audible noise within the confines of his fancy car, and it has you both looking down to see where you’re close to connecting. Steve’s mouth is swollen and shining with spit, a thoughtful consideration indenting a pout into his lips. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen your pussy this wet before. Fuck.”

“I want your hands all over me. Need you so bad, Steve.”

Like a dose of electrified endorphins, Steve is squeezing your breast, rolling it within his heavy handed vice, his other curling at your neck’s nape. “Yeah? Only me?”

It’s always him. Only him.

There’s something so carnal and primal thinking about Sanemi who smells like a real man. It’s different to the way Tengen douses himself in potent oils, the flowery scent that follows Mitsuri or the clean scent of a fresh Giyuu.

His sweat mixed with the rice bran he used days ago to bathe, lingers on his skin and driving you crazy when it laces with his natural musk. Completely unaware of just how much it affects you until he’s got you pressed to the ground, his forearm wrapped around your neck and his armpit so close that you moan. Eyes rolling as you inhale deeply and Sanemi’s looking down at you in shock when you turn in his grip to bury your nose in his hairy pit.

God, you really are a sick freak.

Biker redux part 3

Part One, Part Two

It was a good thing Salim needed so much focus to drive his motorcycle. It kept his mind from drifting to the man sitting behind him. The feel of Jason's arms around him, body pressed close to Salim, was already risking a distraction. Salim nudged the bike past the speed limit hoping to reach their destination a little sooner.

He pulled up in front of the apartment complex and parked, dismounting first so he could help Jason off. The younger man wasn't as used to riding a motorcycle and his legs were a little wobbly. Though if Salim were being honest with himself, he also just wanted an excuse to touch Jason. The other leaned into Salim, his eyes drifting to Salim's mouth.

Salim was relieved and pleased when his attraction to Jason was reciprocated. All night the other had been sending some very clear signals. Salim felt a stir of desire looking at Jason now, his pale face highlighted by the street lamps. He took in a slow breath to cool the heat building inside him.

“Which one is your door?” Jason's eyes flickered with confusion. “You asked me to see you to your front door,” Salim reminded him gently.

“Right,” Jason agreed. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but it looked like he was blushing. He took Salim's hand and tugged, guiding him deeper into the complex. They passed a few doors before stopping. Jason had to release Salim's hand to pull out his key. His hands were shaking a little and his breathing was labored. He finally managed to get the door unlocked. He turned back to Salim.

“Good night, Jason,” Salim said. He leaned in, his breath a tease across Jason's lips. The moment they connected was like a barrier dropping away. Their lips were fierce and urgent, kissing with desperate hunger. Jason let out a soft whimper when they parted and laced his fingers through Salim's chains, tugging to bring him close again.

“Come in,” Jason gasped out. The words sounded both like a command and a plea. Salim shuddered and obeyed. Jason fumbled for the door knob and they stumbled inside. Salim reached blindly behind him to push the door closed again. Neither seemed willing to put distance between them now that they were locked together.

Salim didn't even have time to look around the apartment. He relied on Jason pulling him around by the chains on his hips. They all but fell on the couch with Salim catching himself on the back before his weight crushed Jason. Fingers pushed into his hair and lips parted for a tongue to glide across Salim's bottom lip. Salim groaned, allowing his weight to press against Jason after all.

He vaguely remembered a promise to go slow, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not now with Jason's tongue tasting him, the younger man's fingers tangling in Salim's curls, and his voice making soft noises every time they parted for air. He wanted to stay on this rush, both of them breathless from the thrill of it.

“Salim,” Jason grunted. “You got... somewhere to be?”

“No,” Salim huffed in response.

“Good.” Jason released Salim's chains, fingers trailing up the man's sides to grip the hem of his shirt instead. He gave a rough tug upward. Salim didn't fight it and soon his shirt was being dropped to the floor. “Shit,” Jason cursed. “Oh, shit, fucking hell.”

“What is it?” Salim had a sudden attack of self-consciousness. Jason was young; he probably was hoping for something better than a hairy, middle-aged body. Jason grabbed his hand and directed it between the younger man's legs. Salim's eyebrows shot up as he felt the distinctive hard bulge. His self-consciousness made a drastic one-eighty to carnal pleasure: Jason had popped a boner just from looking at Salim's naked torso.

Since his hand was there anyway, Salim rubbed the heel of his palm against the bulge. Jason let out a groan and rolled his hips toward the sensation. Salim continued: cupping, squeezing, rubbing, working Jason through his clothing. Jason's eyes fluttered shut and his mouth dropped open to let out every gasp and moan. Affection and lust rose in Salim as he watched the younger man come undone.

“You—you'll make me cum,” Jason choked out.

“Do you want me to stop?” Salim wondered. Jason shook his head dazedly. His flush had spread down to his neck. Salim pressed a kiss to the heated skin, following the path down to the collar of Jason's shirt. It took a bit more palming of Jason's confined erection, and some heated kisses, but eventually Jason came. He bucked hard against Salim's hand and cried out in pleasure.

Salim pulled back when it was done. He couldn't help feeling a little smug. It'd been a while since he pleasured someone enough for an orgasm, and he managed it without even taking Jason's clothes off. He caught Jason's gaze and his affectionate lust stirred again. He knew the real reason it'd been so long was because Salim hadn't wanted someone this way. Jason's lips curved into a smile and he caressed Salim's face.

“I can hear you thinkin'.”

“You are beautiful,” Salim told him, “and the way you look right now makes me wish I had condoms and lube.” Jason's eyes lit up, his blush deepening, and he leaned close enough for their noses to touch.

“Then buy some tomorrow. Plenty of other things we can do tonight.” He pressed what was no doubt meant to be a quick peck on Salim's lips. But the moment they connected, Jason seemed unwilling to break the kiss. Neither was Salim, already pressing his weight against Jason again with the need to be close.

[Fuck,] Salim hissed, wiggling to find a good angle on the couch. [Shit!]

“You okay?” Jason asked. His fingers slid along Salim's chains again. Salim trembled at the touch.

“Bedroom,” Salim panted. Like with Jason's come in earlier, Salim managed to sound both demanding and begging. Jason's fingers tightened their grip, pulling hard.

“Fuck, yeah. Take me for a ride, Salim.”

An open and needlessly explicit letter to the anonymous message in my inbox, RE: my carnal desire towards one (1) Lieutenant Double-Yfreitor Harrier Du Bois

Just. Just listen ok. Would Harry even get around to having sex with me? Probably not. Provably, he'd cry or call me a slur or both. Then he'd flee by running straight through my wall, leaving a Harry-shaped hole in the bricks looney-tunes style.

Even if he managed to pass that skill check, would he be stinky? Would he be his cringe, diseased and obnoxious self? Absolutely, and so would I.

You don't understand. I am consumed with lust and degeneracy, and it has been pent up in my virginial form for a decade. I've put myself at risk of worse diseases at the mere CHANCE of getting some action, and I'd fucking do it again for some Harry Du Bussy. There is A Chance. A Chance of something twisted within me getting sated. And imo it is worth the risk.

"you'd fuck a fence if it was white" oh oh I'm sorry! is the fence psychic? Does the fence have like ten guys in his head who might be able to find my g-spot with the precision of a team of NASA engineers? Would the fence maybe let me peg him, tug him around by his facial hair, let me put a nose hook on him, and call him a 'good pig'? Then fucking call me cooper the way I'm about to build the whole bloody enclosure.

And you know what? You underestimate me. You think a 28 year old wasian woman can't match the rank energy of Harry Du Bois? Buddy I have Issues that you wouldn't believe. I've had identity crises that you could not comprehend. My little hirstuite body has created Odours that would horrify even the most seasoned medieval plague doctor. And I dont even have the Body Odour Gene! I had to DIY this shit, dickhead! Signature blend! Im defying racism so hard thay not even BIOLOGY ITSELF has command over me!

fuck the double standard. so like I'm allowed to drool about big fat hairy milfs and their glorious old pussies, but suddenly when I desire some morally dubious whiteman hole I'M too much of a pervert??? Well I don't fucking care. I was always an equal opportunity pervert, and I always will be. I have rights. I have a right to express how much I want to go at Harry Du Bois like a bull elephant in musth. This is my fucken blog and I control what I write here.

If Kim doesn't fuck that sad little man, then I will.

okay i did my superball headcanons now time for my other pookie (flint paper)

older than sam and max but not by much, probably like early to mid 50s

divorced twice, it's fine though

trained in like martial arts, i think he should be allowed to throw people around more (normal)

actually enjoys sam and max company. partially because he is insane but also because they're funny to him. like haha you boys throwing anvils on people? that's good love is love

he likes men and women. thats my truth. we will ship superball with him if its the last thing i fucking do!!!!

probably gets love letters from ladies and men who he helped on cases or flirted with to get info. and also max. a majority of them are from max. he can tell because they're misspelled

i think he needs to be hairy. for my sake. i also don't think he shaves. again im normal. normal poster

i think he had a mullet when he was younger. one day he asks for help cleaning his office and sam and max find that picture of him in college with one and they go HUH and he goes oh yeah that was me and sam and max both desire him more carnally

he does classy drinking. he has like cognac and whiskey in office and those fancy decanters but will occasionally like down a bottle of vodka

user pikaflute when she hasn't said a character is from new jersey in the past twenty minutes: hey guys i think flint paper is-

has had to get his office fixed over twenty times. the landlord hates him but flint pays his (and sam and max's cause god knows they don't pay rent) rent so far in advance he is never getting kicked out

speaking of, he's probably rich. he's good at solving cases and threatening individuals pays a lot. even though sometimes he works on a "hunch" he's always proven right.

he's an only child. thats why he's crazy.

probably knows a bunch of languages for investigating. one time max hears flint speaking french and max is like "hes going to speak french to me while in bed" and sam goes "wait in fucking line"

probably did gymnastics as a teen. explains why he's so nimble and good at fighting. AND HOT

drinks coffee but so black it's still coffee grounds. he orders this from (girl) stinky all the time and she's like "im throwing this pot at you" and he's like "good! i need a pick me up!"

he did modeling at one point on his life on the side before becoming a full time investigator. if sam and max ever find those shoots they're going to fucking die

when sam and max were first moving in, flint did an entire background search on them and when he met them for the first time he told him everything he found out and sam and max both fell in love with him instantly.

one time he works on a case with sam and max and it causes so much property damage that the three of them are permanently banned from staten island

cannot cook to save his life. he asked sam if spaghetti is supposed to be black and sam was like "i....maybe not."

very good with kids surprisingly. he babysits for sam and max and asks geek if she wants like water or anything while he beats a guy up and she's like "i'm....good."

one time when sam and max actually did their job and brought a criminal into jail they saw flint in there and he was in the process of breaking out and he's like "hey boys! can you unlock the door for me?" and they both went "anything for you."

he 100% knows sam and max want him so bad it's not even funny. it's flattering to him

he doesn't drive. he just walks to places and somehow gets there faster than a car

also has a tattoo somewhere, probably on his back. i don't know of what, i'm just homo okay?

listens to jazz mainly. it fits the noir aesthetic. his office reeks of cigarettes.

[walks up to the mic] sock garters [everyone cheers]

he's autistic and he stims by shooting and beating people up. I'm only like half joking

i think hes shorter than superball by like an inch. so 5'8

i don't think he's played a video game since the 90s. he's a light gun shooter master though.

i also don't think he knows anything about modern pop culture at all. half the shit max says to him might as well be in a different language

sleeps naked cause he's Like That

doesnt like horror movies. they just make him angry and upset

Bracket D Round 1

Poll 14

Elias Love (@purgatoryhips) vs. Green Guy (@silver-tounges-and-golden-lies)

219. Elias Love (@purgatoryhips)

he/him

he's hot and evil and i want him carnally. also if he gets votes it'll feed him because he eats attention and human meat <3

6'1 cis man, pale and well built. curly pinkish toned blond hair, goes down to the end of his neck. green eyes, sharp teeth, beauty mark on the left side of his face, directly below his mouth. typically wears pink, white, red, and black; i usually draw him in a pink button up w/ white hearts, black skinny jeans, and heels. one heart earring on the gay ear. not seen when clothed but a reverse tramp stamp of a heart with wings. oh yeah he's also hairy because im not a coward

(ref sheet by artsydudejude)

220. Green Guy (@silver-tounges-and-golden-lies)

He/him

He's a robot demigod. He's haunted by his evil grandfather. Trans masc for the win. Ace/Aro king. He had a cult for a bit. Founded a city. The government tried to kill him, but the planet he landed on was his evil grandfathers body so he got some evil blood that made him semi immortal. He can shift heights. Does not remember what social rules are after being almost completely alone for 190 million years. Not completely alone due to evil grandfather haunting. He likes to dissect animals as well. Just a fucked up guy. He can hear everything.

He's a fighting style archivist so he's good at fighting. Can be a little unhinged sometimes. Like dismantling/vivisecting people alive. As a treat. He also chose his own name.

Green Transformer that turns into a 2002 ford f150 and a stag-moose. He's got two tone red and blue eyes. He's got fangs. An antenna on his left audial to increase his hearing. He's got a decal on his thigh plating that is a purple toned galaxy night sky with dark trees in front. Has big doorwings and a ladder rack on his back. Has red and blue patterned lights on his chest, outside of his upper arms, inner shin, and two on each side of his stomach. He is not aligned with the cons or autobots due to not having been aware of a war until it was a year from ending.

Set shortly after we leave the couple dancing on the terrace in the last chapter of "Hannibal", this story follows an episode of Clarice's mild infirmity and Dr Lecter's role in navigating her health conditions. Unbidden vulnerability was never easy for either of the two. Had the years spent together in mutual respect and understanding taught them to honour and find delight in it? Or are they doomed to never know all-encompassing trust and flounder in doubt, until it makes them question the very fundaments of living? Chapter 2 and 3 of "Leda and the Swan" available 🍇

"…Since they established a permanent residence for Hannibal’s feint retirement, he delighted in seeing Clarice eat with a hearty, healthy appetite of a schoolgirl, sometimes helping herself to what she claimed to be "the most delicious bits" with her delicate fingers, a mock smile of savage pleasure on her tanned freckled face. He was glad her periods now arrived regularly and caused little to no pain, unlike the drastic FBI-induced state her menstruation was in when they were reintroduced to one another, in the true light of who they are, on the fateful Chesapeake shore. Whenever, upon their regular evening passeggiatas along the well-kept streets of the highly privileged district they were now an almost ridiculously natural part of, a dog owner would pass them by with their hairy charge, Clarice would beam at the very the sight of even the most objectively hideous pet — and the view of the beaming signora clara would normally force the walker, male or female alike, to come to a hilt, giving Clarice just enough time to introduce herself to the dog and deluge it with generous offers of scratches and caresses. Hannibal was anticipating the question of having a four-pawed companion of their own being brought up upon some strain-free dinner any day now — so brimming was she with affection and undistributed inner warmth, so ready to give and receive love in its purest forms: the bountiful rays of the splendid Argentinian sun kissing her fair naiad skin, the benevolent wind playing with her light hair whenever they would go yachting, the scents of lavender and roses being absorbed by the pores on her hands when she would be done with her part of their majestic little garden for the day and return to him, and touch him, and intoxicate him, and eventually mix her paradisal smell with his carnal, immaculate in its purity and manly one. Shapely and soft at the same time, this Clarice would induce hunger he never knew before, an almost physical thirst for the nectar of her very essence, for her texture and temperature, and Hannibal would extract the riches she mercifully offered him to the last drop — only to find the priceless vial full to the edge with every new dawn".

Ok.

Medic sheepboy with unguligrade legs. Like, it's him. It's medic tf2. In all his toothy and smug and eccentric glory. But he's a satyr-style half human half sheep. Horns n everything

And then.... heavy sheepdog wereworlf... just think about it ok....

...

ALTERNATIVELY

Medic sheepdog werewolf

And then Heavy sheep satyr

Can't decide which dynamic I like more but hoddamn they sure are dynamics.

I think I like heavy being the sheep satyr more actually. Medic might as well be a herding dog with his job on the battlefield

Now that all of that is established: pet play between the two of them. I'm trying to write my thoughts about this for the last 5 minutes but the bedroom activities between these two would be so carnal and indescribably sultry that it is confounding me and I cannot comprehend it, it is like 4d chess to me. And so I will.leave it at that

OH MY GOD GERMAN SHEPHERD how did I not think of that earlier....

Sorry for sowing brainworms in tbe soils of your inbox

No this is so real I understand so much. I must admit I'm drawn to satyr Medic if only because his hairy chest and stomach leading into the furry ungulate legs is a very fun design thing. I'll cut the difference and leave you with sheepboy (idk he's like sixty so "boy" feels weird. Sheepmann?) Medic who takes on a sheepdog role and sheepdog werewolf Heavy who takes on a sheepier role. That's the joy of play sometimes! And why this furry stuff is so fun

I wonder if Dalinar would be attracted to me. It all depends on if he likes big huge large tboys. I know he likes tboys abstract. Cuz of Sadeas. But not only am I a tboy but I am also. Very fat. 280 pounds roughly. That’s so big. That’s so big huge large. Depending on the era that might be as big as Dalinar himself. Is he willing???⁇ to have large4large gay sex with a stupid old tboy from Minnesota???????⁇ the jury’s still out. But in my hammered heart of hearts I like to think Dalinar desires me soooooooo carnally. I like to think he asks for me by name. Oh Dalinar. I love you. I love you and your large huge soft hairy belly. Please. Please for the love of god

Bp anakin wants to learn how to have some stamina and not to nut the minute someone goes down on him so he asks his master to teach him 🥺

hi i went insane again and made a one shot about this: ready to launch

read under the cut but check out the link for tags and whatnot

The first time Anakin realized what his cunt was for, it was mostly by accident. A growth spurt left his pants just a bit too tight, the seam bisecting his crotch. He laughed with Obi-Wan about how silly he looked, the hem of the pants ending high on his ankle before going to class. It was only when he sat down that he felt the pressure on his cunt, pressing and grinding against him with every movement. He squirmed, blushing and sweaty, but it only served to rub him more. In the end, Anakin excused himself to the washroom, touching himself through his clothes until he shuddered. It took so little to get there, just an extra press of his fingers before his legs shook and he had to lean against the door for support. When he returned to his room later that day and peeled off his clothes, there was a string of slick connecting his pussy to his underwear, a little wet patch right in the middle. When he ran his fingers through the wet lips, another zing of pleasure shot through him. 

It was the start of Anakin’s love affair with his body. Every chance he got, he was shoving fingers inside himself, rubbing himself, finding objects with the right level of soft firmness to grind against. All it took was thinking about touching his little cunt, how wet it felt, the smoothness of its lips, the sounds it made when he stuck three, four fingers in, and he was making excuses to sneak out of class or meditation or mock negotiations. 

Obi-Wan certainly did not approve of Anakin’s frequent tardiness, but he never asked why Anakin always returned flushed and relaxed. Perhaps he knew, Anakin sometimes thought. His master was very smart and no stranger to carnal pleasures himself. (And that thought always inspired a new wave of want and pleasure to course through him. His handsome Master, hairy chest bared, muscles straining, sweaty as he fucked or got fucked. Anakin imagined what Obi-Wan would look like in Anakin’s bed, showing him pleasure even more adult than shy teenage masturbation.)

Anakin became so well-acquainted with his body that, if he wanted, it would only take a few touches to come. Some nights he would draw it out, building up to a grand finale, making him muffle his sounds into his pillow. But most often, like in so many other aspects of his life, Anakin valued speed. Wanted to reach that peak of pleasure as quickly and as powerfully as he could, basking in a full-body warmth until he was ready to go again. It was great. It was fun. 

It did not prepare him for being with other people, though. If Anakin was fast by himself, it went at lightspeed with others. The novelty of having someone else’s hands on him, having someone look at him, consumed with desire, something as close to love as Anakin could get, shot through him like a blaster bolt every time. And at first, it was cute. His partners would get an ego, thinking that it was skill or beauty that reduced Anakin to a mewling mess. They’d whisper filthy things and try to move forward. But each attempt would push Anakin further and further until his pussy ached and tears filled his eyes and he would push whatever padawan he shacked up with away. 

He was ready to have sex, for real, but his body wasn’t, still stuck behaving like he had never experienced touch before. Anakin only started to care when his agemates, the ones who always sent him winks and pulled him into empty classrooms, stopped looking at him with desire. When he spoke to them, flirted with them, in his awkward, clumsy way, they didn’t smile or laugh or blush. They looked annoyed. It was only after Aayla told him about his new reputation that he understood what had changed. 

A tease. That’s what they thought he was. A tease, a slut, a pillow princess. What they once thought was fun was now irritating. Other agemates were willing to go further, ones that weren’t as awkward or icy or forceful. No longer looking to fuck him, his fellow padawans saw no reason to invite him to parties or city outings. Sparring and during classes were the only times so many of them spoke to him, acting as if nothing had changed. But things had changed, Anakin knew. And instead of seeing his tendency to come quickly as something convenient, something fun, he saw it as embarrassing. Like he was a kid pretending to be an adult, without the skills or the restraint to sell his role. 

His agemates wouldn’t help him. He couldn’t fix the problem himself. The only person he could ask was his Master. His beautiful, careful Master. Obi-Wan balked and flushed when Anakin asked, a refusal on the tip of his tongue. But Anakin knew how to beg so prettily, and the tears in his eyes weren’t entirely fake. He wanted to push himself and no one pushed him like his master. 

He just didn’t realize how hard it would be, until he was laying in bed - his master’s bed! - naked, legs spread, watching as his master crouched between them. His hair was askew, pushed out of place by his nervous fingers, beard was still groomed to perfection. His eyes focused, staring at Anakin’s pussy. It was already dripping, was the thing. Already wet and pulsing with want. All it took was Obi-Wan’s acceptance to take Anakin to bed, his watchful gaze as he undressed, and Anakin felt like the slightest gust could make him come. 

When Obi-Wan sank to his knees, pulled Anakin’s hips to the edge of the bed, and, without fanfare, without warning, wrapped his lips around Anakin’s needy clit, Anakin didn’t have the time or desire to hold himself back. He let out a shriek of pleasure, thighs clamping around Obi-Wan’s head, hips jerking as he came. He ran his fingers up his tensed stomach, relishing in the dull pain of fingernails on skin. 

Firm hands gripped his legs, spreading them so that Obi-Wan could pull away. His lips and beard were damp. He looked at Anakin, peering through the valley of his legs, with awe, want, and hunger. It made every look anyone else ever gave Anakin feel juvenile and stupid in comparison. 

“I never realized how needy and deprived you were, dear padawan,” Obi-Wan said, kissing Anakin’s thigh. “If only I knew about your wonderful little problem before, I could have helped you long ago.”

Anakin meant to reply with something snarky, but all he could manage was a shuddering inhale as Obi-Wan’s blunt, calloused finger circled his hole. Petting it, almost, getting it covered in wetness. 

“Let’s see if we can’t get two fingers in you before you come again,” Obi-Wan said, in the same way he says Ten more minutes of studying and then we’ll train. “We’ll work our way up to having my cock in you.”

“That might take a while,” Anakin moaned. Already his pussy clenched when Obi-Wan pressed inside him, tingling with too much pleasure. “Master, I need a minute-”

Obi-Wan withdrew his hand and imparted a sharp slap to Anakin’s ass. He yelped, feeling as a drop of come dribbled out of his hole, making its way down his ass. Obi-Wan hummed, almost appraisingly. 

“Well, would you look at that,” he whispered, finger tracing that wet pathway. He grinned and looked at Anakin, looking like he would give anything to consume him. “Don’t worry, Anakin. We’ll train your body together. As long as it takes.” Anakin gave a smile, head flopping back against the mattress as he felt another kiss get pressed to his thigh. “Catch your breath for a moment. Then we’ll try again.”

The words were meant to be reassuring, but all they did was send another pulse of heat up Anakin’s spine. He bit his lip, swallowing a moan when he felt Obi-Wan rubbing his folds. He wanted to make his Master proud, wanted to race ahead and get his fat cock inside him. But his master valued patience. Restraint. Poise. Things that Anakin could admit he was lacking at the moment. 

“Can you,” Anaki swallowed, voice rough. “Can you, afterwards… finish with me?” He raised his head to look when he didn’t get a response. Obi-Wan stared at him, cheeks red, an eyebrow arched. “I’ve never lasted long enough to finish anyone off. I want. I want to watch.” It was humiliating to admit, but the way Obi-Wan’s eyelids fluttered and the way he groaned, replaced any pain with pleasure. “Please, Master.”

“Of course, Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispered. “Of course, I’ll do that for you.” He grinned devilishly. “I’ll fuck your thighs later. Maybe then you’ll have better restraint.”

Anakin doubted he would. But he smiled and nodded shyly, letting warmth fill his body as Obi-Wan once again pressed his lips to his pussy. It would certainly take a while until he had the restraint to fuck. But his master didn’t seem to mind. Suddenly, Anakin felt like he had all the time in the world. He moaned as his thighs started to shake once more. Through their bond, Anakin could sense Obi-Wan was pleased. Maybe, just for a little bit, Anakin wouldn't try to hold back. Just for fun. With the way Obi-Wan was flicking his tongue, it probably didn't matter even if Anakin did try.

He almost laughs when he comes again, when he spots the look of fake-disappoint on Obi-Wan's face.

"Guess we'll just have to keep trying," Anakin pants out.

"Guess so," Obi-Wan sighed. "There are worse ways to spend an evening, I suppose."

It was barely six PM. Anakin bit his lip nervously, realizing that his master planned to spend Force knows how many hours pulling him apart. His eyes were watery from stimulation already, thighs coming together when Obi-Wan tried to touch him again. But he didn't want to push him away. Didn't feel ashamed or tired. He steadied himself and leaned back.

"I'm ready to try again," Anakin said. He wasn't, his body still singing from his master's touches, but it was still so good. "I can do it this time, Master."

He couldn't, and they both knew it. He also knew Obi-Wan was smiling as he leaned back down. Like Obi-Wan said, there were worse ways to spend an evening.