#{{ drwlf

[storyborn-moved]

🐝  *  ―  𝑺𝑬𝑿𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.  (  nsfw.  )

@drwlf: [ 📲 text: ]  let me take care of you tonight. (Dillan, & not the way they expecthehehe)

[ 📲 text: ] you really don't have to. [ 📲 text: ] i think the wound is healing okay. [ 📲 text: ] you did a wonderful job.

[kindawild]

@drwlf // continued

I'm totally not in the position to be doing this, but what's another drink, right? I mean, nothings going to happen. The day has been a living hell and truthfully, no one else has even bothered to catch my attention. I've been shooting into the abyss for the past hour and it's gotten sad. Even Kyle is starting to pity me.

Until...

I slid into the bar stool with ease and welcome myself close, holding my own beer in hand. "Hope that wasn't weird." It wasn't, but what else do I say? It's pretty much just a formality. "You looked like you could use one."

[corpatrem]

IS HE GONNA THINK IT WAS WEIRD? Teddy frowns, working on making his own dad's secret pancake recipe as he glances in the direction of the bedroom. He's up unlawfully early ( it's only to try and beat Oliver because Ted swears he was a goddamned fuckin' rooster in a past life ) and he doesn't want Oliver to wake up until he's got this all finished.

Balancing the tray of pancakes, eggs, bacon and freshly squeezed orange juice, Teddy uses his foot to gently push open the door as he walks over to Oliver's side of the bed. Ted finds some solace in the fact that if this all exploded into some sort of bad idea ( he's had plenty of those ) he can still shove it under the rug as him just making his boyfriend breakfast. In the end, that is what this was...

"Happy Daddy's Day, Daddy..." Teddy grins, a soft kiss finding Oliver's forehead, and then his nose, and then even sweeter still, his lips. "I've got a couple of things in mind today..."

@drwlf gets a boy.

[lookingforroleplayers]

@drwlf is written beautifully by a very creative and talented mun- shoutout to you, my friend!

[niratias]

@drwlf

Gabe is being annoying. An entire day of being poked and prodded will do that, though, and that’s exactly why he’s so bristly by the time it’s finally almost done. The muzzle does nothing to kill the intensity of his eyes. If anything, it might enhance them. Adoption event after adoption event, and nobody wants Gabe. Too expensive, too violent- there’s always a reason. So here he is, without a new home to go to, hungry, sore, and annoyed, not quite begging for Oliver’s lunch, but…essentially demanding it with a firm glare. He’s not cute about it like some are. He was clearly not built for this life.

It’s unsettling the lengths that his trainers went to with him. Far beyond the normal, and yet he still would not break. Still isn’t broken, and that’s exactly why he’s in this shape, not-begging for solid food. At least he’s fully dressed. For once.

[piperafterdark]

@drwlf

"You're cut off, James."

"Oh come o-"

"Cut. Off. Bee! You catch that?" Piper's voice rang out clear and smooth, cutting through the music that was playing over the radio -- old rock that could have sounded better had the place invested in speakers that weren't a decade old.

The younger woman, cleaning up a table that had been left a mess, looked over and gave a thumbs up. "Got it!"

James, a man with too long of a beard and too deep of wrinkles to be pouting the way he did, groaned and opted to lay his face upon the admittedly sticky bar top. Drama queen. Piper shook her head before surveying the crowd. Busy, but just enough that it was entertaining rather than overwhelming. Quick eyes clocked drinks to see who had been served, expressions to see if there was trouble brewing, and-

A new face had saddled up to the bar. Piper wouldn't say she knew everyone who came through the bar, but Stony Point was small enough -- and her clientele was smaller still -- that she had a good mental list of who's who.

Her hands hit the bar, shoulders rolling as she leaned towards him and offered not so much a smile but a crooked grin. And it was that grin of hers that kept her, with her tattoos and piercings and dark makeup, from looking too intense.

"Hey rockstar. You drinking tonight, or are you looking for directions?" A genuine question, rather than something meant to insult.

Located at the crux between 87 and 287, Suffern wasn't where Piper wanted to live, but it was where she had ended up for better or worse. For better, when she got to go camping near by. For worse, when she had to commute well over an hour into NYC for a gig.

[eidetic187]

[ OVERSTIMULATED ]:  sender  repeatedly  making  receiver  orgasm. <3

nsfw prompts

          Spencer has already cum twice tonight, && is well on his way to a third time.

          To be completely fair, he had asked for this. He'd learned pretty early on that orgasms were an easy, fun, surefire way to get his brain to shut off, to get all those racing, ever-present && persistent thoughts to completely cease, if only for a few short minutes. He'd wanted to see how far he could push that, see how long it would take for him to become completely brainless, for his thoughts to be completely empty of anything other than pleasure && the mix of endorphins that came with it, && how long eh could stay there. Sometimes he was just so tired of never quite being able to stop thinking; sometimes, he just wanted internal silence.

          Oliver was more than willing to help him achieve that, especially in a manner that promised him having the lither man whimpering && writhing underneath him. They'd negotiated a stoplight system rather than a single safe word ( easier than trying to remember what word they'd picked out after his brain has been effectively turned to soup, ) as well as gestures && a pattern to tap against Oliver's skin if he can't manage words.

          && now they're here, Spencer's skin pleasantly flushed && coated in a sheen of sweat, chest heaving with each breath as he squirms, half of him trying to escape the discomfort of over-stimulation coursing through him && the other half begging for more, more, more. His head is blissfully empty, genius brain reduced to a puddle of goop somewhere between the first && second orgasms, his thoughts now nothing more than a fuzzy feedback loop of the pleasure of fingers insistently pressing against his prostate && the stinging mix of pleasure-pain from the over-stimulation.

          Tears have started to leak from his eyes && one of his hands squeezes Oliver's bicep in a strong grip, the other curled so tightly in the sheets that if he had any coherent thought left, he'd worry he was going to tear them. He's right where he wants to be, though, back arching && voice breaking around a cry of Oliver's name followed by a barely coherent string of please, please, please. He's not even fully conscious of what he's begging for, his entire state of awareness fuzzy && blurry around the edges.

          His nails start to dig in to where he's gripping Oliver's arm, legs shaking as his whines && whimpers start to pitch higher && higher — he's so sensitive from already cumming twice that he's pretty sure he's going to cum just from Oliver's fingers inside him, especially if he keeps pressing against that sweet little bundle of nerves.

          && he does, indeed, cum again just from that, nails scrabbling at Oliver's arm as the rest of his body arches up, the cry he releases edging closer to a sob as his every muscle spasms. It's a blissful mix of relief && pain, his every nerve ending frayed; && yet the only thought he has is that he's still not ready to stop. Even as he twitches, overstimulated && completely gone to any form of coherency, he still taps out the pattern against Oliver's arm that signals that the other man can keep going.

[monstyrigone]

Oliver vc can I get a uhhhhhh hot dog

COMIN RIGHT UP ! W/ EXTRA MAYO !!