#nonieblabs

[nonie-theanoniemous]

behind every gay person is an even gayer, more evil person

[nonie-theanoniemous]

Gris' strength is haunting me rn like everybody and their grandma knows that man can pick you up one handed and hold you like its nothing RAGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH😩😩😩😩

Sex with him is supposed to be soft and gentle cuz he's the typa man who likes to take care of his partner LIKE GURL BODY WORSHIP IS HIS MIDDLE NAMEEEE but there's moments when you and him are in just- the throes of it okay?? Everything's too hot too wet and too fucking good and just so so desperate that he can't help the way his grip tightens on you, fingers digging into the soft skin of your flesh and he tried, he swears he tried to keep the promise of soft and smooth it was just too much and suddenly you're sporting finger shaped bruises around your hips, the size of his hands branded to your skin like a claim BSIDHWKEJIEKE

But like, on another note, imagine him as someone with that strong grip going gentle on you, hands that could crush trash beasts so easily coming to cradle you like you were the most fragile thing to ever exist- for such carefulness to exist within the bubble of your love ACKKKKKKKKKKK 😭😭

AND DON'T GET ME STARTED WITH THE SIZE DIFFERENCE!!!!!

[nonie-theanoniemous]

wrote this on a whim, i just want to geT this stupid ship out of my minddddd BCS I AM GOING INSANEEEEEEE

"What the hell are you doing?!" Zanka hisses, swats at the groping hands on his clothing, cupping on hidden limbs and touching protected flesh. Jabber's a warm weight in front of him, pinning him to the dirty wall as the other teen did his best to get his clawed hands to Zanka's heated skin. A nose to the side of his neck, chapped lips mouthing behind his ear and Zanka shivers. It's the dirty wall, it's this dirty wall and this dirty animal in front of me is what he tells himself and. well. He's not exactly wrong.

"Tell me to stop then," is giggled into the crook of his neck, claws digging into his hip. his top is halfway off his body, exposing his fair expanse of chest and collarbone. Zanka freezes, tensed and he wants to scream, wants to lash out but he's afraid that if he opened his mouth, some other noise would come out. instead, he grits his teeth, tries to keep his head down when Jabber's palm comes up to force it upwards.

at his resistance, Mankira curls into the locks of his hair to wrench his head upwards. "Well?" Jabber breathes, too close for comfort that Zanka could see the details of his hot pink eyes, blown wide with something else other than bloodlust. Zanka stubbornly keeps his mouth shut, grits his teeth at the pull on his hair. He chokes on a sound when Jabber shakes him hard, like a disobedient dog and the grin on the teens face is what pisses him off more.

like he's getting off on Zanka's pain, his suffering and really, that's not out of the norm for them. Every fight, its Zanka who bleeds and loses but trash beast balls its Jabber who hurts the more. Like a routine game, Zanka would inflict pain and injuries on him as much as he could until the other reaches his high and loses himself to the thirst for violence and defeats Zanka in a devastating blow, riding hard and blown.

it's supposed to be Zanka hurting him, because that's how they simply worked, not the other way around.

"fuck you," Zanka finally spits, finds a broken voice from the trenches of his gasping throat. Jabber's grin goes impossibly wide.

"that's not a no," Jabber croons, gleeful and Zanka tries to squirm away, ignores the threaded poisoned weapon in his hair and it's only the press of warm, dry lips against his makes him stop. the sensation is soft, almost caring, just a light press of kiss in a way he didn't expect from someone like Jabber. He's shocked to his core; a prey caught in a trap and Zanka doesn't know if he ever wanted to escape.

wet tongue prods at his frozen lips, and he could feel the grin pressed against him turn soft. Zanka's mind is white with panic and something else. a blare of alarm that made his ears ring. against his will, he opens his mouth, accepts Jabber despite the dying denial and a noise they couldn't explain escapes the both of them, body's pressing close and Zanka's a fool, he's going to die because he's a goddamn idiot and what scares him the most is that he doesn't mind if this is what ends him.

Jabber's groan is loud and hot when Zanka begins to cling to him, arms winding around his neck to pull him close. the kiss turns desperate, a dance of tongue for dominance. everything falls away as the only thing that filled their minds is each other's taste. teeth bit and drew blood, Jabber's pleasured moan a vibration to his fogging brain. iron filled Zanka's palette alongside the tongue that so desperately explored every inch of his mouth. Jabber tasted like blood, coppery tang so strong he almost missed the underlying sweetness of candy.

Zanka was losing himself to the pace of spit wet lips and excited tongue, of the exploring hands and the lack of oxygen and it's the feeling of something rutting against his thigh that snaps him back to reality, to the fact that he's currently having a hot make out session with his biggest, fattest, most evilest enemy to ever exist. Somehow, despite the weakened state Jabber's kiss left his knees in, he managed to knee the other in the stomach.

Jabber's wheeze is accompanied with laughter, eyes twinkling and Zanka doesn't know what to do. His arms come to hug himself as the world rushes back into clarity, that they were hidden inside a dirty alley that anyone can peak and walk into. His face burns, the sensation of sweat and heat registering.

the pounding of his heart threatens to knock his rib cage open and Zanka tells himself it's the disgust and fear and revoltment.

Jabber's staring at him like he's a meat to eat, tongue coming to lick at his lips. a slow cackle leaves him, "Mhmm you taste as good as how I imagined my dear Zanka. What do you think is more fun? Us ripping each other or this? our pleasure together in a one big high."

he sounds deranged and Zanka can't believe this is the same dude who made him lightheaded with a couple of licks and slurp. Zanka opens his mouth but a familiar voice makes him pale in the face instead.

"Zanka?! Where the hell are you?!" Follo's voice sounded close, tinged with panic and Gris not too far from him. Zanka only has a split-second decision as Jabber's face twisting into mischief. He made an aborted move as though he was going to answer back and Zanka doesn't thin when he grabs the teen forward and smashes their lips together.

Jabber doesn't waste anytime curling into his grip, allows himself to be manhandled when Zanka reverses their position to slam him into the wall. "ngh love it when you get rough," he slurs, lips caught between Zanka's teeth.

"Shut the fuck up and keep kissing me you psychotic masochist," he hisses, digs his fingers into Jabber's neck tightly. He tries to ignore the way his stomach flipped at the pleasured giggle the motion drew from Jabber, denied the sensation of saliva and tongue against another, at the way a warm body happily moved and grinded against him.

except- there was no ignoring or denying the way Zanka was responding, at how he's catching noises at the back his throat, at how his hips are just as needy and firm, at the fact that he's having a hot make out session with his biggest, fattest, most evilest enemy to ever exist. Coherence leaves him when they separate for air, forehead to forehead and eyes as wide as each other, sweat and blushes warm on their skin. saliva is a bridge between swollen lips, red as a cherry and Zanka will forever deny the wild grin that graced his lips to match with the most infuriating, dangerous and terrifyingly beautiful asshole he has never met.

[nonie-theanoniemous]

i have exams for the next 3 days and i haven't studied for any of the 8 subjects i have. anyways i'm a firm believer that the best way to get enjin to shut the fuck up is have him go to town between your legs😊

enjin is a munch. i know, that man has an oral fixation- you told him to quit smoking and the alternate solution he came up with was to eat you out like a madman. if he ain't sucking on a cigarette then he's nose deep in your pussy likeeeeee he'd be messy about, talks to it and you like you were two different entities. he'd go "look at her just leakin' and cryin' f'rme. You like my teeth on you babe? y'like it when i lick and suck here? yer m'kin me crazyy."

just your juices staining his lips and around his mouth, his groans vibrating through your core while he tongued the fuck out of you. he'd be mean about it but not in a teasing way, more like him just eating you stupid, no pause or break. he'd make you cum at least twice before he even thinks of adding a finger, just him and his mouth on a mission.

this man moans when he gets you gushing on him, squirtin' like a fountain, drinks it all up like he doesn't know what water is. sucking on your clit, shoving his tongue as much as he could in your gummy walls. he relishes in the way you shake above him; legs locked tightly around his head and your fingers tangled in his head. his face would be soaked to hell, eyes blown wide; he'd be having trouble breathing and he'd shove his face deeper in your weeping cunt.

[nonie-theanoniemous]

horny gris thoughts in which he takes off his shirt and your eyes just zeroes on his very thick and very nice happy trail which leads to an equally very thick and very nice prize likee ughhhh

'bout to lead my tongue down south, kiss it from the top and swallow down the base likee just imagine, on your knees and following that trail, fingers slowly hooking on the waistband of his pants while his hands settled on your head, holding. Both of your eyes caught in a heated look as your lips softly pressed on his stomach, kissing, following, smelling his musk and practically drooling as Gris' cock slowly hardened into a bulge, heat passing through the thick fabric of his pants while you pulled it down, eye contact breaking as you finally revealed your prize, already leaking a wet patch on his boxer, hair thicker at the base, scent stronger, so undeniably him, mind blanking as you nosed at his erection, his groan music to your ears-

[nonie-theanoniemous]

you guys really liked gris huhhhhh AM SO GLADDDDDDD

THAT MAN NEEDS MORE APPRECIATION BECAUSE GRIS 'BODY WORSHIP' RUBION WILL DEFINITELY APPRECIATE THE EVER LOVING FUCK OUT OF YOU.

he'd be the type to be hesitant at first, worrying about letting loose and maybe hurting you, but when he gets his grooves boy are you in for the ride of your life. literally.

head from this man is him murmuring 'im sorry i can't stop' and 'you taste so good' into the sop of your cunt, desperate while his fingers left bruises on your thighs. you'd wrap your legs around his head while begging for him to stop and he'd take it as an encouragement. and its not like he's purposely being mean; he just really can't help it. its the way you moaned, the way you thrashed in his grip, the way you cried for him to stop, please it's too much despite the way you grinded your pussy to the muscle of his tongue likeee. why you lyin'? why are you asking for a break when it's so obvious that you want more? Its okay though, gris would give you what you want but to shy to ask for. that's why he's here, to provide for his sweetheart, to listen to unsaid things that can't leave your mouth.

so he keeps working till the wetness on his mouth is more you than his saliva, shame leaving him as he goes pussy drunk in pleasing his sweetheart. he's finally found his nirvana and he can't be pulled away from it. he'd rather die.

[nonie-theanoniemous]

jabber: cute date idea

jabber: i hunt you down for sport

zanka:

zanka: never fucking mind

[nonie-theanoniemous]

I’m not taking any type of criticism for this take. Gris is the type to slightly bend down closer to you to hear you better and pretends not to hear the hitch in your breath anytime he does this.

Wait wait wait you are right!!! No criticism given, IN FACT- 'throws a handful of confetti's at you'

this is so real???? Gris wouldn't be the type to be oblivious to crushes and that kinda stuff, he's wayy to observant for that. he'd notice how despite you being so sweet and nice, you're always at a distance, like you're holding him at arms length and it's confusing, he doesn't know what he did wrong or what it is that you're thinking but it all becomes clear when missions forces you into close space, when rough housing with other cleaners got you stumbling into his arms, when you get injured and Gris has to carry you up in his arms. Suddenly you're flushing for different reasons, stuttering, no eye contact and he just goes OHHH, that's why.

Your crush is suddenly so obvious, and listen, Gris would probably be upfront about it. You know, confront you about the feelings and talk it out, but he too gets embarrassed when he realizes that your little crush isn't so one sided. So he tries to be polite- doesn't point out your glaring interest, gives you space and respects you for when you finally come to him to confess. But then he remembers the moments when you guys are so close, when he could feel your warm breath on his face and he'd tell himself that the hitch of it was nothing. And the politeness he's keeping turns into a little game.

How flustered he could get you. Innocently getting down and close to you, brushing against you, that kind of teasing. Its nothing overly extravagant, it's just Gris being Gris but this time, there's intent within his actions. Because Gris would lean down and ignore the way your breath hitches at the proximity, waits for you to come yourself, but there's nothing wrong with a little bit of nudge to the inevitable explosion of your crush.

ACKKKK LUV THIS YOU ARE SO RIGHTTTT