[mandatory-ftmbreeder]

accidental sex/touching is so fucking hot

like imagine some harmless play wrestling with a friend but then the one on top accidentally grinds their dick right against the other person's crotch. and you both just stare at each other wide-eyed because holy fuck, did that really just happen, and why did it feel really good? And oh god now we're both just grinding against each other holy shit I can't stop

[until-i-found-u]

Imagine calling your f/o a good boy. You tell them how amazing they're doing, how good you're starting to feel as they rock against you, and how perfect you feel around them. You watch your f/o roll their eyes back as they fuck you faster or fuck you slower. When you realize how close they're getting as the momentum gets desperate, you cooed into their ear, "Fuck, baby. That's my good boy." Your f/o shudders and cums.

pr0ship + minors DNI.

[ifyouhatemesoo-deactivated20251]

bouncing on it while he tells me all of his nerdy interests

[mewnbuns]

Men who make you giggle deliberately during sex because they like how the sound breaks off into something airy and wrecked when they choose that exact moment to press their cock deep up inside of you 💗

[tiramistupid-deactivated2026012]

girl who struggles with chronic always-the-cutiepie-never-the-hot one syndrome 🤝 guy who suffers from rampant cuteness aggression as he presses her through the mattress

[sunday-bug]

[fagsex]

sorr- (remembers that thanking instead of apologizing is healthier for you and your relationships) thank you for allowing me to prematurely ejaculate on your couch

[renkith]

guy whose kink is making u feel safe. takes pride in it even

[yuanmeiren]

men who immediately get hard when you hold his arm close and hug the limb between your full breasts. men who salivate at the sight of your thighs squishing together as you sit on his lap, and can't help but grab and knead them softly. men who keep changing the rhythm and force of his thrusts, just so they can observe the mesmerizing ripples of your tummy and thighs... before they eventually lose all reasons and decide to rest their weight fully onto your softness, so they can lose themselves in pumping their cock in and out of your cunt ৻ꪆ

[the-tatted-scientist-v-deactiva]

How do I tell her she’s ethereal and need her to ride my face?

[dadbodsandbutts]

sighs grits teeth punches the air

herman's the token foot guy™️ of my f/os, but he's in the closet (shoebox?) because he doesn't want to give people more fuel to make fun of him than they already have

[butchermeat-deactivated20251123]

ppl who really like to eat pussy are kinda scary like they literally hold you down and just go at it like they’re starving

[nkogneatho]

men who get hard when you worry about them because no one's ever done that for them ever

[nkogneatho]

like when you tell them, "be careful" their entire world comes to halt. they've never heard that. and never in such a soft voice and a heavy heart like yours. and when you brush your thumb against the bruise on their cheek. fuck. their cock stirs in their pants. what is this foreign feeling? they hate themselves for fantasizing about pushing their cock in while you're on the verge of tears because they're hurt. oh what the fuck are you doing to them?

[sunday-bug]

[mysumeow]

[requested] ➥ Dreamway? ₊⊹

ᓚᘏᗢ Silver's mental fortitude can only last for so long. ᓚᘏᗢ TAGS: Afab reader. Masturbation. MDNI; ageless and blank blogs don't interact. ᓚᘏᗢ A/N: equestrian club silver 🫪 i kind of wrote this in a rush but ill come back to it later to tidy up a little >_< | ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ . . . TWST MASTERLIST

Drifting amidst fluffy pink clouds, airiness and softness alike enveloped Silver. The open skies reflecting on his crystalline eyes, the floating in air, and the paper birds whirling past him—he had seen this dreamway countless times while dream hopping.

Questions like “where and when did I fall asleep?” no longer appeared when facing this situation; instead, he just hoped that whichever place he ended up dozing off in wasn’t in the middle of class or another important situation. Or, Malleus or Father didn’t need his immediate help. He’d learned that in this situation, it was best to accept it and let it develop how it needed to.

Wait a moment! He hadn’t used his unique magic. Why was he in the dreamway?

His gaze encounters yours with his now open eyes. All you offered was a smile and a wave, welcoming him back into the world of awakeness.

“Welcome back into the world of the living, Silver.”

Silver sat up, twisting his upper body to peer at the place he had been sleeping on: your thighs.

The softness, that cozy embrace that had cradled him while in the dream… that meant he wasn’t in the dreamscape after all, but rather, that ethereal visage he had seen was an interpretation of your presence he had while asleep. The breeze combing through his hair, that had to be your hand. That made much more sense than his initial thought of being in the dreamway. After all, that current of air never felt like the soothing breeze he just dreamt of. It was an abrasive gale, unlike this.

He looked back at you, pulse quickening.

A tinge of pink dusted across his cheeks.

“What hour is it?”

“About five.”

That was enough to ram him out of that dreamlike stupor. He was late for his equestrian club activities.

“I’m sorry for the inconveniences caused. I can’t control when or where I fall asleep. It just occurs.” Silver was embarrassed of his carelessness. Did you sit next to him on the bench, and he happened to lean against you in his sleep? Or did you place his head on your lap? Either way, he burdened you.

“It’s okay. At least you seemed to be having a pleasant dream.”

Silver cleared his throat. “Thank you for your consideration. I’d like to stay and talk more, but I must leave for my extracurriculars.”

This exchange had taken place in the late afternoon. During riding practice, the exchange played in a loop in his head to the point that even Sebek nagged about his lack of focus. The longer he mused about it, the more he zeroed in on that dreamy sensation he experienced while on your lap.

It was warm and soft, and your radiant smiling face was… a rather nice view to be welcomed by after a dream—

Silver splashed water onto his face and shook those thoughts off. This was not the place to be led astray by such thoughts. Even though everyone in the club had left back to their room, he stayed past the closing hour to make up for his tardiness. He had to catch up with practice.

Silver climbed onto the horse’s back, which had been waiting by the hitching post. As it trotted along the riding arena, the steady hoofbeats drowned out the otherwise silent training grounds. Silver nudged the horse into a faster walk, easing it into a gallop…

Silver lost balance and managed to make the horse stop before he fell to the ground.

He had not tightened the saddle enough.

After fixing it, he went back to mounting the horse, only for this second attempt to go awry too. He wasn’t paying attention, and the horse stopped out of nowhere, causing him to jolt forward.

The final evidence that this was going nowhere was on his third attempt, in which he almost smashed his face into a tree branch. Silver took a slow, deep breath and got off the horse. Grabbing the reins, he led the horse back to the hitching post.

Taking his helmet off and using a handkerchief to pat his sweat away, Silver went back to the locker room. As ashamed as he was to concede to his impulses, he negotiated that it was best if he got rid of the problem before he tried a fourth time.

It was way past dusk. Chances were that no one would come here at this hour. Even still, he locked himself into a stall to lessen the risk of getting caught.

The belt clinked when he unbuckled it; the sound of the unfastened zipper followed it. Soon enough, his hand found his flushed member, his white trousers sliding slightly lower than intended. With furrowed eyebrows, Silver took a sharp breath when relief surged, working his cock with steady and careful strokes. Despite wanting to maintain certain control over his desire, the mere memory of your radiance had him so worked up that his hips shifted into his hand.

Although this cramped space went up in temperature for him the more minutes went by, the blazing redness on his face came from both guilt and arousal. You deserved to be courted first, for thoughts of you to be dedicated to lingering at your side and be cherished.

Yet, the harder he wanted to derail those thoughts into the mundane or less libidinous in nature, the clearer he reminisced on your warmth, the suppleness of your skin, and the feeling of you combing your fingers through his hair… No matter from what angle he yearned for you, his daydream of you brimmed with enthralling softness and warmth.

His rhythm had grown faster, but still steady. Enough precum dripped down the tip, aiding the strokes to become smoother. Small gasps forced their way out of him, eyebrows knitting tighter together in tandem to the increasing heat about to spill.

In opposition to his arduous effort to keep levelheaded, Silver vocalized a hitched groan. One last thrust into his hand was what sufficed to unravel, pelvis twitching in place. Cum dribbled down the head after the first healthy spurts, leaving Silver panting and leaning against the door.

Tidying himself up and exiting the stall was akin to a walk of shame for Silver. He met his reflection in the mirror—just as disheveled as he supposed he would end up. The hair tie had loosened, causing shorter hair strands to be out of place. Don't even get started with the brooch on his cravat. It was askew too.

With a refreshed mind —he couldn't say the same about his body— he concentrated, finally, on his practice. He doubled the amount for good measure, chastising himself for conceding so easily to lust. He wouldn't be an exemplary knight if he allowed himself to be allured this way.

Consider liking/reblogging ฅ(•˕ •マ

[melodiesz]

crowhybrid!mammon really loves when you touch his wings. Maybe a little too much…👀 series: 1,2,3,4 cw: gn!r, nsfw, wingplay, dryhumping, making out

So turns out birds are really horny animals. Well, your bird is.

You see, crowhybrid!mammon had recently upgraded from strange stalker to your strange, stalker boyfriend! He was endlessly clingy and still liked to watch you from afar sometimes, but the way he would switch from sulking to beaming in seconds when your eyes met his was far too charming to be mad at him.

And life together was great — he was constantly bringing you gifts you knew for a fact he stole, each fancier than the next. You make eye contact with something in a store window for even a second? Next day he’s offering it to you like it’s nothing, insisting he just stumbled upon it but stealing glances every few seconds to see you smile.

It was cute how he would act like he didn’t care when he so clearly did; if the way his shrine of your things came back 10x stronger until they filled his entire house was anything to go by. He really was a bad liar, which is why it’s no surprise you quickly caught on to the little secret he was keeping about his wings.

It all started on another day of his favourite activity: sunbathing. The feeling of the sun on his feathers was exceptional, and it was even better with you beside him — his wing draped over you and an arm slung protectively around your waist. His wings looked almost golden under the warm light, so soft you didn’t think twice when you reached out to touch.

Your fingers lightly danced over the feathers, a touch so faint you don't even know how he felt it but in a mere second his eyes shot open, whole body jolting as he let out a gasp.

At the reaction you immediately yanked your hand back, eyebrows furrowing in concern. “Shit, sorry, did that hurt?”

His wings twitched in response, half his face hidden from where his head was resting on his arms but you could still catch the faint redness on his cheeks. Was he embarrassed that he got startled? “No, it’s just.. .nevermind.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized again. “I won’t do that anymore.”

“No!” He cringed at how high his voice got, immediately clearing his throat. “It just caught me off guard, that’s all. You can touch them.” To prove his point he adjusted to rest his wing right in your lap and laid there relaxed as ever, even letting out some sounds as your fingers danced across the feathers.

Your hands roam closer to the top where the appendages first sprout out from his back and he shudders, a quiet moan escaping his lips before he slaps a hand over his mouth. You laugh, honoured that you were doing such a good job at what must feel like a massage for him.

Curious, you move to see what the underside of his wings feel like, and at a single brush of your fingers against one of his lower feathers he gasps again, this time breaking into a long groan as his whole body twitches violently and low moans escape his lips. That was not a normal reaction to a massage.

You panic, maybe you weren't supposed to touch that spot? But wouldn’t he have told you about the places he didn’t want you touching? Why was he completely silent right now? Did you hurt him? “Mammon? Are you okay? I’m so sorry!”

He still doesn’t respond, just silently sits up until you notice the fucked-out expression on his face and the wet patch on his pants that makes you put two and two together in no time. He just came in his pants from nothing but you touching his wings.

You almost don’t believe it. “did you just—“

“Yeah.” he mumbles, his face so red it travelled to the tips of his ears. He tries to adjust so you can’t see the damp spot, but the damage has already been done.

“So touching your wings makes you—“

“Yeah,” he clears his throat. “They uh, they’re real sensitive.”

He’s humiliated and on the spot, this really isn’t a good time to but you can’t help it; you immediately burst out laughing. He looks like wants the ground to swallow him whole as you cackle, his frown deepening and the flush on his cheeks darkening.

“Shaddup! S’ your fault for touching them,” he grumbled, turning away from you to avoid eye contact.

“You let me touch them, practically begged me to by shoving them in my lap,” you pointed out. He ignored your teasing and continued to sulk, which made you feel a little guilty for laughing. “Okay okay, I’m sorry.”

When he continued to ignore you you glanced down at his wings, an idea popping up in your head. In seconds your hands were on him again, rubbing right at the spot on the underside that made him come undone just mere moments ago.

His breath hitched, and he let out a sound of protest before it broke into a moan. “Ha, w-wait,” he whined, his whole body jolting like he was trying to twist toward and away from the pleasure at the same time.

“Aw, is it too much, birdie?” you teased.

The nickname made him grit his teeth, and you nearly had the wind knocked out of you with how fast he switched your positions — pushing you onto your back so that he was looming over you, wings casting a dark shadow over you that matched his expression. So maybe you took the teasing a little too far.

“Oh I’ll show you too much, human,” he cursed, but his words held no real malice when his brain was too busy focusing on the pleasure of grinding against you, cock rock hard and desperate in his pants. Your lips met in a messy kiss as he pressed closer and closer to you like he wanted to merge souls.

Your hands didn’t leave his wings as he pressed his weight against you, trapping you underneath him as if you would ever run. The double stimulation was melting his brain as he rutted against you like he was in heat, groaning and gasping into your mouth. “Fuck, please don’t stop,” he whimpered.

And you didn’t, touch creeping higher and higher up to that sensitive spot right at the top, rubbing your palm along the longest feather in ministrations like if you were stroking his length. The implication wasn’t lost on his dazed brain and he shuddered, almost cumming right then and there.

His lips left yours with a gasp for air, a string of spit connecting your lips before he moved to attack your neck, sucking dark, possessive hickeys into your skin and nipping at the spots that he knew were the most sensitive. That combined with his hands exploring everywhere on your body and his tent rubbing against you perfectly had you unraveling underneath him.

The sound of your moans had his own orgasm crashing over him right after yours, the pleasure becoming all too overwhelming as sparks of pleasure shot up his spine and he kissed you with a sense of urgency.

He came with a cry muffled against your lips, talons digging into the blanket under the two of you as more cum flooded his boxers. He was panting, wings flailing away from your touch as he came down and overstimulation started to bleed in.

He collapsed beside you, wing draped over your body like a blanket. His breath was laboured, but he shifted to press a soft kiss against your cheek, tugging you closer against him.

“Mammon?” you ask.

“Yeah?” he responds, a big, dopey smile on his face.

“Next time can we fuck in the air?”

His smile drops.

a/n:

[lil-yearnings]

I wonder what it was like sleeping with Leon once he came home, rejuvenated by Elpis. Cured, healed, literally de-aged.

His fixed posture is immediately noticeable when he holds you tight in his arms. His back is straight and not slightly leaning over you. His core feels much firmer. Before, you had to mind hugging him too tight or else he'd lose his balance.

Now he's a rock solid wall.

He kisses you like he's in his twenties again. He hoists you up effortlessly. No sound comes from his lips. No grunts of effort. Just tossed over his shoulder all casually.

He's unsarcastically rough with you. Not rough rough, but for a man his age, and of his health (as far as you knew) this was not your husband. You haven't been kissed this harshly, held this tight in years. You don't remember him getting it up this quickly since you were in your twenties.

He's needy, and he's on top of you, with no regard for his legs or back. The pounding between your thighs is relentless. One split second, you're filled to the brim, and the next, empty. And then you're full again before you process. And then you're empty. In. out. in. out. in. out. It's so fast, and for a change, you're clawing at his back, pleading him to slow down, when typically, it's the other way around.

Glimpses of your loving, gentle husband is still there as you're being fucked like a porn star. His hands grasp yours, his fingers curl around yours like he's holding a bundle of sticks, unable to be bothered to twine your fingers--his forehead dips just above yours to gently touch, and rub your noses together, giving your bruised lips a break.

Your hips are literally off the bed--he's lifting your hips and angling you. It's so overstimulating it's almost painful. He's fucking you like he hates you, but muttering to you like a confessional.

"I know, honey--I know, I know--I'm sorry--I'm sorry--I need you--fuck...--I need--"

You didn't even need your "assistance" that night. Postmenopausal hormones were pesky (and Leon had no problem lending you a hand. Or a wand.) but this was the first time you had not one, but a string of organic orgasms since your thirties.

"Come on, one more, honey... One more.."

Leon decides he'll tell you about Elpis once he's finished.

The question is when will he finish