four-crows-in-a-trenchcoat
four-crows-in-a-trenchcoat
A Murder Most Slutty
115 posts
Crow, 24, Any Pronouns,Minors kindly gtfo, ya ain't welcomeWriter of blockmen erotica
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four-crows-in-a-trenchcoat · 13 hours ago
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hello everyone . etho joel rpf 🔥🔥🔥 who agrees
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four-crows-in-a-trenchcoat · 13 hours ago
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hello everyone . etho joel rpf 🔥🔥🔥 who agrees
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four-crows-in-a-trenchcoat · 13 hours ago
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hello everyone . etho joel rpf 🔥🔥🔥 who agrees
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four-crows-in-a-trenchcoat · 13 hours ago
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hello everyone . etho joel rpf 🔥🔥🔥 who agrees
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four-crows-in-a-trenchcoat · 13 hours ago
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hello everyone . etho joel rpf 🔥🔥🔥 who agrees
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four-crows-in-a-trenchcoat · 13 hours ago
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hello everyone . etho joel rpf 🔥🔥🔥 who agrees
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four-crows-in-a-trenchcoat · 20 hours ago
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hello everyone . etho joel rpf 🔥🔥🔥 who agrees
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The Principles of Therodynamincs - A SlabTek Starkissed AU fic
A lil fluffy slabtek smut/temp play fic for the lovely @crownpastelyellow
Tango's running hot after a group project goes arwy and Etho has to use some applied phsyics to stop his alien friend from blowing up [not in like a explosive way but in like a stressed sick way] much to his chagrin.
AO3 Link
Word Count: 3.5K
Fic below:
When Etho wakes up past class-ending to someone trying to punch through his door, before the sing-song of the keypad opens it up, he doesn’t expect to see Tango standing in the door frame of his bedroom. Honestly, he was half expecting to be robbed but no, his one friend standing at the precipice of the bedroom looking like he had committed, is committing, or is about to commit murder.
His face is tight and he’s practically glowing - Etho feels like he’s looking at a black hole, the dark of his dorm illuminated by the heat radiating from Tango in bright orange cascades - as if heating the dust and gas around him to extreme temperatures.
Although that might just be the delirium of sleep - part of Etho wouldn’t be surprised to learn Tango could be a pocket black hole. Regardless, Tango is dashing as ever, even if he looks about one wrong word from blowing up a planet.
With a groan, Etho rises and pulls his hair back with a fluffy pink headband with a little felt antennae. Tango stands perfectly still, vibrating with rage in his doorway, letting Etho shake the dust off his bones and wipe off the little drool catching at the corner of his sleep lips.
“So, group projects huh?” Etho yawns out, stretching his arms above his head - high enough to bunch his alien super-starstress of cosmos shirt up across his chest, exposing the pale plateau of his stomach.
“Group projects.” Tango growls low and feeble, like there’s a fire burning in his throat but it just can’t burn any higher once he sees Etho roll from his quilted sarcophagus.
Wordlessly, he walks across the room and clambers into Etho’s lap with a deflating sigh - his flames crackling and roaring - just about contained. Just about.
Instantly, Etho can feel that knotting dread of the fire alarm being set off overtake the uncomfortable warmth smothering him as Tango settles against him.
“Running a little hot there bud,” Etho awkwardly chuckles, hand already jumping back from Tango’s forearm at the sudden rush of blistering warmth against him.
“I know.”
“Can I -”
Tango growls low. The flames of his hair flash like a solar flare before settling.
Burning paper assaults his nostrils as a little crumbled note Tango is holding combusts in a handheld supernova, scraps and ashen scraps exploding outward like sooty confetti. He looks more like a cat fighting a visit to the vet than a person.
Etho’s voice chills, “T, you're gonna set the fire alarm off, and neither of us want the dean on us again… plus it’ll feel nice.”
“…fine, do the thing.”
“Careful, might burn down my dorm with how enthusiastic you sound,” in all fairness, Etho remembers how squirmy Tango got last time, looking more like a wet cat by the time he was cooled. Something about how much a pathetic wet cat his friend looked after made his heart float out of his chest.
But this time, Etho has plans. Not very well thought out plans granted, but who says you need a well throught out plan to conduct an experiment… it was a marvel of the cosmos he was top of his classes.
While Etho is fetching a bag of ice cubes from his freezer, Tango plops himself down in a metal chair with a huff. It’s not terribly comfortable - the corrugated metal and harsh edges dig into his ass and thighs although the heat permeating off of him softens the brutality. But it’s all Etho has that Tango won’t melt through and they have to make do for the moment.
Etho returns with two bags of ice - Tango is running very hot after all - a bundle of towels and a bottle of lube.
“I would tie you up, but I fear that would be a waste of good rope” Etho comments, dumping his supplies down on the bed, looking over his shoulder at Tango fidgeting in place.
Tango opens his mouth, but when he is greeted by Etho’s perky little ass stepping out of his sleep shorts, words fail him for a moment.
Swallowing back his surprise, Tango slumps in his chair and tries to shuffle his cargo-pants off as dark clouds spill from between his lips, “I would burn right through it… and it would kill me to do that to your lovely ropework.”
“That you would, thank you for the compliment though,” Etho sinks to his knees at the side of Tango and helps free his legs, the inner lining a little scorched
“So what’s the plan?”
“Well, I know you have a love hate relationship with the ice - so though while I was doing that, me being on top of you would help the flow of heat dissipate a little faster if I’m soaking it up as well-” Etho continues to explain the logic behind his horny application of Thermodynamics all while nonchalantly lubing up his fingers.
A little groan catches Etho’s enthusiastic calculation of lower Tango’s core stored thermal energy through dual application of the ice and his body as his finger slips past the rim, his other hand sneaks onto the chair’s arm for support.
The flames rage high, almost kissing the ceiling as Etho continues explaining with starling clarity while slowly pumping a finger into his hole.
If Tango wasn’t already burning hot, Etho half hunched towards him pumping a finger past his slick rim, groaning and panting while explaining thermodynamics would certainly threaten to burn the dorms down.
This was so much better than the ice.
“No knotting this time, I mean it, I have things I want to do later,” Etho groans, a bead of sweat already racing down his forehead, the world around Tango sahara-like. Tango’s flames crackle and take on an almost rosy colour, a twinge of embarrassment seeping into him.
Tango nods while working his cargo pants down to his ankles and Etho chuckles - he half expects Tango to have burnt through his boxers with how hard he is. Someone was forgetting to take care of themself. Again.
Etho slips a second finger in, shuddering at the stretch - it had been a while since he had bottomed or had sex but it’s just like riding a bike: and this was more cock warming then sex. Etho shudders, watching Tango palm his erection while working his fingers in and out, feeling himself stretch and loosen, “fuck Tango…”
Tango flushes - did he think Etho was thinking of someone else while fingering himself open. “Could you… lube up please?”
“Yeah where - ah there.” Tango leans over and takes the bottle of lube from the bedside and both boys flush red as Tango squirts a glob onto his palm and it starts steaming.
“Oh.”
“Oh.” Tango works his boxers down until they are at his ankles. Etho gives his hole a good stretch with his fingers, moaning softly while staring down at Tango’s cock - only salivating a little at the harsher ridges, fiery head and fat knot that denote Tango’s hybrid lineage. But focus - job. Yes.
Fingers slip out with a little shudder before Etho is propping up a little table so he has the ice and towels closer while he straddles his friend.
“You gonna leave your hoodie on?” Oh, perhaps that’s why he was so hot. Etho sheds his last article of clothing: half so he wouldn’t overheat, half so Tango wouldn’t burn it. Although standing there, naked, all long and pale like a birch tree, it does feel a little more intimate. And he can see Tango thinking the same with how red his face gets and how he rushes to refocus on slicking up his cock.
Tango squirts a handful, and Etho is thankful he pays for the good stuff. A slightly synthetic strawberry smell fills the air in thick clouds of steam as Tango pumps his cock, slicking it up. Smoke billows out his closed fist like a volcano primed for eruption, and Etho watches enraptured.
Hard not to. It’s weirdly sublime.
“So… not that I mind you watching me jerk off… but do we wanna…” Tango’s voice is a little trepidation, nervous but smoky. Little puffs of smoke flutter from his lips as he talks and Etho has to stop himself from staring and talking in the biological marvel of his friend. There will be time to be an alien freak later - now, operation cooldown Tango is a go.
“Right, right, just - yes.” Etho takes a deep breath. Sure he and Tango have fucked before. Once. Once when Tango was in heat and they both had a few drinks and then they were stuck together for six hours. But this.
Etho approaches Tango, looking at him instead of his smoking cock, shiny and slick. Slowly, very deliberately so, he mounts Tango, slides into his lap and instantly bites his lip. Tango’s skin is scorching against his own, great plains of heat that press into him - although it’s not uncomfortable, well not a lot.
It’s hot and it burns a little and - Etho moans.
Something about the sting of the heat seeping into his skin, the way Tango is looking at him with big hazy eyes, like he’s looking at him from inside a burning building, makes his pulse race and brow sweat.
Settling a hand on Tango’s shoulder, his palm smouldering pleasant and bitter, he reaches down and helps Tango’s cock find him and - in he goes.
A symphonious warmth fills the air as Tango and Etho moan together. Effortless to relax into one another, Etho’s bedroom is almost sauna-like by the time he works himself down to Tango’s base. His knot heavy and hot grinding against his hole, spreading his pale cheeks a little.
It’s easy to settle. Tango slides inside of him quite easily and he already feels like he’s melting. Warmth crawling up the underside of his thighs and ass clouding his brain with a heavenly fog that he could get lost in - if there was a reason for his.
Reaching over to the bowl of ice, Etho plucks out a few cubes, and as soon as they are brought next to Tango he can feel them slipping into puddles in his palm.
But before they can fully melt, Etho slowly drags the ice down Tango’s chest and as soon as the chill graces his shoulder warm hands latch to Etho’s hips.
The movement of the ice is slow and methodical. Carefully thought through. Stuffing it against Tango’s chest and letting it melt wouldn’t put him in shock per say, but it wouldn’t be pleasant. And he was already a real wet cat about this at the best of times.
He watches his face tighten as the ice meanders inwards, a strained little moan eking out in a dark cloud.
“Shhh I know. It’ll get easier, because the temperatur-eahhh diff-fuc-fferance is so high, it’ll… it’ll be a little intense-Yow.” Etho can feel the flames biting at his thighs, Tango’s cock throbbing inside him - spilling an almost uncomfortable warmth inside him as he holds the ice across his shoulder and lets it melt.
Etho takes a slow approach, almost like following a stream from the river to the ocean. He starts at the edge of Tango: his shoulders, his hips, his sides and slowly drags the ice towards his core. Granted not much if any is surviving by the time he makes it to the ribs, but Etho cut’s through the roaring flames slowly, little trails of ice dulling and softening the wildfire brimming within.
Flames tingle against his skin, little sparks digging into him in a sharp pleasant way. Does it hurt a little when Tango’s hands squeeze his hips each time Etho brings a fresh lot of ice against his skin and works it towards him - yes; does the little eruption of pain make his cock twitch and heart melt - also yes; does it relax his jaw enough to let truly soft melted moans spill out; yes and yes.
“A little intense. Yeah,” and Tango’s eyes sparkle like flint against steel when Etho makes those noises, or grinds down against him instinctively, or readjusts himself atop him for support. Torn between Etho squeezing him and grumbling at how the ice feels against him, Tango’s hands down leave Etho’s skin - keeping him fixed in his lap.
Etho continues, despite Tango’s palms sweating his skin, threatening to burn him to the bone. If anything, it only encourages him to carry on despite Tango’s mewling protestations and whines.
Gradually, by the time the first bowl is done, the ice starts making it to his chest somewhat intact and Etho can gently massage it into the soft fuzz of his chest. Slow spirals dance towards his heart [and nipples] and as soon as Etho drags two half melted cubes over Tango’s nipples he flares like someone turned the gas on high.
Hips stutter upwards and make Etho bounce on his cock and stoke a particular fiery moan out of him. But Etho’s hands are resolute in holding the ice there, letting it melt against Tango’s chest until the lingering mess is heated to wispy steam.
“Displeasure… registered.” Etho chuckles, a little breathlessly - the ambient heat of the room and Tango’s hands and presence starting to sweat his muscles out.
“Geez Etho… how much more…”
“Still an entire bag, but you’re doing so good,” Etho isn’t surprised that Tango groans and whines - he is however surprised that he buries his face against Etho’s chest.
Quickly, Etho throws his head back to add the kiss of flames and has to try very hard not to lurch forward when Tango pressed a bundle of warmth to his pectoral. A hot stamp of affection presses into him while shaky hands bundle more ice in a cloth and by the time Etho is dragging it down Tango’s shoulder, four more kisses meander towards his nipple.
The message was clear. If this was going to be torture for Tango. It would also be a little tortuous for Etho. [Only a little because Tango KNEW Etho would be getting off to this now and for the next month.]
“Ho-how you feeling?”
“Cooler. Still hot, but more manageable,” Tango huffs, pressing a hot kiss to Etho’s collarbone and the way his skin feels under Tango’s lips he’s half convinced he’s melting through him to kiss the bone. If he focuses on the sensation he could feel his marrow simmering under Tango’s lips, and that… that made his cock bounce, slapping against his stomach before poking Tango.
“How… how about you, you look a lil hot,” Tango asks, voice earnest and concerned as Etho looks past his head to a mirror and. He is indeed running a little hot. What he can see of his pale skin is tinted red, cheeks rosy and glowing. Sweat glossy and shiny across him. He looks like he’s had a stint in a sauna.
“Yeah, a little.” He looks like he’s run a marathon, and Etho watches his shoulders tense and pull close as Tango squeezes his hips and he squirms.
“Good. Can you get the rest of it over with… please.” Tango bops his forehead against Etho’s chest and it isn’t far off from having a warmed ingot being pressed against him.
“Yeah, we can go out for noodles after,” and Etho can feel Tango’s lips tug a smile pressing against him like a brand. Grabbing a handful of ice, Etho encases them in a soft cloth - although it takes long then intended as Tango plants meandering kisses all over his chest and pulls moans and soft whines of pleasure from the flames.
As soon as the cloth, soaking up the cold melting ice, touches Tango’s back he jumps in his seat, thrusting up into Etho like he’s trying to knot him. He almost drops the cloth as he rushes to steady himself and save his poor hole the stretch.
He hates to do it, but he has to be firm. “No knotting.”
“I wasn’t-”
“My ass disagrees. Just… nice deep breath for me and-” Etho brings the cloth back to his shoulder and Tango shivers, whimpering and mewling into his chest, “let all that heat out.” The smokey exhale washes over his chest, catching the embers of all the kisses Tango has branded him with and he can’t help but moan.
Etho repeats himself. In and out. In and out. Each followed by a tender drag of the cloth down his back, digging trenches of cold into the inferno, while Tango continues to stamp heat into him.
Squeezing his cock to quiet him down, Tango mellows out eventually, although he does still grumble. A nice hole around his cock goes a world a way to calming Tango down - Etho mentally notes that it could always come in handy.
Slowly, Tango’s skin stops smoking with each drag of the ice and cloth. The little drops of cold remain, sliding down his back. All as more heat floods Etho, fills him up from his toes to his shoulders - although unlike Tango it mellows out a lot quicker.
Once Etho has exhausted the last of the ice, he just wraps his arms around Tango and breathes deep, letting the last embers of blazing heat be pressed into his skin by Tango’s lips and fingers.
“You want to talk about why you were running so hot?” Tango leans back, hair a calm rolling flame. No need to worry about smoke detectors anymore.
Huffing out the last of that bitter black smoke like an irritated dragon, Tango sighs, “Not at the moment. Just… wanna spend time with someone who isn't a massive tool.”
“I just have one.” Tango leans forward just enough to look at him, brows raised in doubt.
“Etho, have you seen Skizz naked?”
“Have you?” Tango’s hands absentmindedly knead the heated flesh of Etho’s hips, pleasant warmth seeping into his bones.
“Once… zed kept opening the door while he was in the shower because it was funny and … tool with a capital T.”
“Okay firespite, let’s try not to start heating up again.”
Tango purrs as his hands drag from his hips to cup Etho’s ass completely. Etho lets out a pleased groan, warm hands squeezing his perky ass, kneading what is there with a small smile. “Hard not to with this nice boney ass on me,”
“It’s not boney. It’s perky.” He sounds almost offended. It’s enough to make Tango giggle, a light airy noise - devoid of the bitter charcoal his voice had earlier.
“Did your girlfriend tell you that Etho?” Tango teases, giving Etho’s ass a little love tap - getting a half giggle half moan out of him.
“I think you did. When you were fucking me through you’re heat.” Etho retorts, squeezing Tango’s cock with a smirk, which gets his confident teasing smile melting back to something softer.
“Okay. Perky.” Tango surrenders, leaning against his chair, no longer rigidly tense and just slowly kneading Etho’s ass like it’s a stress toy. It’s nice, like Etho’s sitting in one of those ships with the heated seats - and a dick up his ass.
“So noodles?”
“Void, yes. I’m pretty sure I could eat my weight in them right now,” Tango breath hitches as Etho lifts himself off of his cock. Now that Etho is unfurled and standing before him, Tango goes bright red.
“Tango? What’s… come on it’s literally just me naked.”
“Look in the mirror.” Confused, Etho steps past Tango to look at himself in his little bedroom mirror and oh.
Each kiss. Each touch. Each moment. All of it, stamped into his skin. Etho’s face flushes as he can clearly see Tango’s lips stained against his chest, dancing over his pectorals and clavicles, a perfect imprint of his hands on his hips and … yep a perfect print of Tango’s hands staining his ass. Etho’s heart flutters as he inspects it more thoroughly, and marvels at the clarity, at how Tango has left himself on his skin like he was pressing his hands and body into the sand - perfect indentations.
“This should go away right?” Luckily, it was mostly in areas people would never see. But still… the potential permeance certainly stirred something carnally curious inside him.
“Maybe probably?” Tango sounds beyond embarrassed as he steals glances at Etho, arm outstretched offering some sweats.
“Another fascinating find… you never cease to amaze Tango,” Etho responds in earnest, jumping into some fresh undies and the sweats.
“Maybe you should run hot more often,” Etho teases, fingers tracing the marks Tango’s lips left on his chest. Tango looks at him with all the sour seriousness of a cat forced into the bath.
“No.”
It’s easy enough to cover up.
Thankfully. More so for Tango’s sake - save him the questioning looks and teasing remarks about getting a bit too randy with his friend. But Etho doesn’t mind, if this was the price of helping Tango relax and feel good, he would happily let Tango leave his mark again and again.
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Oh forgot to mention - this is a birthday pressie for the sick little creature @oy84 < 3 who I adore v much and makes me unwell about X by proxy.
throat G.O.A.T - a DocSuma Dead Dove Fic
WARNING: This is a DEAD DOVE FIC. C/W and Link below the bar
Xisuma is easy to force to his knees. Sure he’s a little exhausted from moshing all night, sure he’s a little lightheaded from being punched in the nose and bleeding all over himself, and sure having the hot lead singer and guitarist of your favourite metal band Goatmeat split a cigarette and make out sloppy in a ratty bathroom might make him a bit easier than normal. But he is always easy to force down.
C/W for : agegap, dubcon, watersports, light emeto[mostly saliva & cum], asphyxiation, blood [a lil bit] AO3 Link
Word Count: 4.1k
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throat G.O.A.T - a DocSuma Dead Dove Fic
WARNING: This is a DEAD DOVE FIC. C/W and Link below the bar
Xisuma is easy to force to his knees. Sure he’s a little exhausted from moshing all night, sure he’s a little lightheaded from being punched in the nose and bleeding all over himself, and sure having the hot lead singer and guitarist of your favourite metal band Goatmeat split a cigarette and make out sloppy in a ratty bathroom might make him a bit easier than normal. But he is always easy to force down.
C/W for : agegap, dubcon, watersports, light emeto[mostly saliva & cum], asphyxiation, blood [a lil bit] AO3 Link
Word Count: 4.1k
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Own Goal - a GriBeans fic
Grian and Joel go for afterwork drinks and watch a trainwreck.
A lil gribeans written for @bidoofenergy 's football AU, based on the fic @crownpastelyellow wrote.
sfw fic [woah those exist?] they are jimmyphobic idiots but it's p fluffy.
“Blummin’ hell they’re insufferable…like get a room you two” Joel’s scowl tugs a little smile on Grian’s lip as they look over at the bar at Jimmy making goo goo eyes at the subject of his masturbation fantasies for the last… truthfully, they lost track of how long Jimmy had been pinning after him. 
“Can’t have said it better myself beans.” Grian finishes his drink before his arm relaxes back around Joel, settling into his side to keep him nice and close, tucked away in their booth a few tables back.
“Think Jimmy’s taken down the poster hanging in his room?” Joel muses, nestling against Grian’s sweater, groaning lowly, hand wandering aimlessly across his trouser leg, warmth pleasantly flooding the left side of his body. 
“You’re a real bastard spending that much on a signed poster for a gag, you could have just asked Tango.” Joel just giggles and cranes his neck up just enough to press a little kiss into the hollow of his neck, pulling down the neck of his sweater and shirt to manage. 
“Nah it was worth it G, you just couldn’t see my vision.” Grian huffs a little at that and ruffles Joel’s mop of brown and green as he falls back against him, that little warmth still stamped against him. 
“If you say so.” 
“Gonna get another drink? You want one?” is code for, I’m going up to the bar to snoop and the lovebirds are too absorbed in their * romance * to notice. Grian taps his side, signalling his exit alongside Joel. 
“Sure, how about a game of pool after, loser buys rounds for the rest of the night?” and like clockwork Grian can see the competitive spark strike in Joel’s dark oak eyes, threatening to burn down the forest with its intensity. 
#
Grian’s sitting picturesq on the pool table as Joel lines up his next shot, leg crossed over the other as he looks back down the green at his roommate on the other end of the table - back straight, ass out, gently testing the strike - so focused. Cradling the pool cue where Joel will see it despite his intense focus on this shot, Grian haunts his vision. His hands gently run up and down the length - methodical, tender a familiar twist that makes a shiver run down Joel’s spine; gently twisting the little box of cue chalk on the tip, glazing it with attention; ending by blowing a little kiss to the end of the freshly polished tip. 
Joel fucks the shot. Billiards going flying. 
“My go!” he chirps, hoping down and saunting over to Joel with a mischievous little smile. He starts lining up the shot when he feels Joel against him, bearing down on him, hand running over his own.
“Careful Gri, wouldn’t wanna take anyone’s eye out,” Grian huffs a response, more like a throaty chirp, as he focus on the vast expanse of green cloth before him and not the fact Joel is pressing up against his ass; focusing on how the balls should ricochet and not Joel’s affirmative hold over his hand trying to sway him out.
“Suggest you back up if you don’t want a cue to the gut then.” Joel backs off with hands raised, and Grian sighs as the absence of his pressessence against him.
He takes the shot and watches with quiet satisfaction as one by one, the balls find their end. 
“I believe… that is game.” Grian smirks, pulling back and turning to face Joel who has a quiet look of amazement about him. 
“Get us some of that top-shelf gin would you beans,” and before Joel can sputter out about how expensive that is, Grian places his hands on the pool table and stretches out his back, while the tip of his shoe rubs up against Joel’s ankle, “since you can afford that vintage signed tango poster, shouldn’t be a problem at all, should it.” 
Busted. 
Joel rolls his eyes, collecting their pool cues and placing them back on the rack before leaning against the bar - completely unbeknownst to Jimmy and Tango who are looking as flustered and blushy as they were when Joel still had a chance of beating Grian in pool. 
When Joel comes back with his drink, and something simpler and plentiful for himself, he looks defeated. “They’re just talking about Jimmy’s cat.” 
Their mutual disappointment is evident, and they remain around the pool table. Just watching them, drinking their drinks and grumbling about how lovesick Jimmy looks as Joel puts a hand around Grian’s waist and Grian rests his head against his shoulder. 
“So obnoxious…” 
“Makes me sick.” 
The rest of the night is largely the same, Joel buying Grian a drink every so often and coming back with a pint for himself, eavesdropping on the love birds only to come back disappointed. At some point, a large group of ladies come in, office party, and when one of them recognises Joel they all do, and suddenly he is only concerned with buying Grian’s drinks as his own come from the hands of very enthusiastic middle aged office workers. 
‘He is a handsome catch, to be expected’ Grian thinks as he watches Joel sign their shirts with that big toothy grin he loves to see - although he’s unsure if Joel’s happy for the attention or the fact he’s getting shots bought for him. Either way, who is he to ruin his good time? 
Luckily, someone asks if he wants to play a few games of pool.
After thoroughly destroying a first time drinker and the rest of his friends, Grian looks up and realises Jimmy and Tango are gone - figures, it is past Jimmy’s bed time. Speaking of idiots awake past their bedtime…
Grian finds Joel strung out in a booth, giggling to himself, a staggering amount of shot glasses and pint glasses littering the table, the office party a thing of the distant past. 
“Grian! Buddy! Missed youuuu” Joel slumps into his side, rubbing his face against Grian’s belly with a dump puppy dog smile. 
“Missed you too, come on, time to get you home,” Grian says, helping Joel up to his feet before he can complain too much. As they waddle out, Grian slides the bartender a pretty hefty tip with a soft smile, pushing the pub’s door open with his foot before quickly spilling out. 
“Cold… when did it get so cold…” Joel mumbles, nuzzling up to Grian’s side like he’s some great wooly beast. 
“I told you to bring a coat,” Grian remarks, interlocking his fingers with Joel’s and pulling one of his hands into a pocket which pleases him. Luckily he’s not so drunk he can’t walk - Grian didn’t feel like getting free weight training this late, but walking with Joel is like guiding a newborn deer to water, clumsy and earnestly endearing. 
“Good night with the ladies?”
“Soooooo good, such big fans… big boobs hehe, big fans, signed sooooo many shirts and phone cases and everything…” Joel stretches out his arms as if to show the enormity of the things he has signed before slumping against Grian’s shoulder. It makes it a little awkward to walk, but Grian just wraps an arm around him and keeps him there.
Grian’s just thankful they live close to the pub. As Grian opens up the front door, he looks back at Joel.
“So good time?” Joel goes to nod and then pouts a little, Grian raises a brow. 
“Forgot to get my favourite player to sign something for me.” And before Grian can turn back, he’s spilling through the front door as Joel all but tackles him inside, catching himself as Joel giggles up at him, pressing the marker into his chest. “It’s you… you’re my favourite player… just don’t tell my roommate, he would be soooo jealous…” he giggles, nestling his face into Grian’s chest and Grian can’t help the smile creeping onto his face. 
“Let’s tuck you into bed superfan,” Grian starts helping Joel to his bedroom, and he is getting handsy - intent on stumbling backwards as he tries to tuck his fingers into the waistband of Grian’s pants, pressing kisses against his neck with mischievous glee. 
Grian swats his hand away, but it quickly snakes its way back to his hips.
“Grian come on pweettty pwease” 
“Joel you're smashed, respectfully,” Joel groans as Grian reaches past him to open the door, slumping against him with all the gusto of a sad puppy. Joel’s room is certainly the same as ever - a mess. 
“Stupid Jimmy and stupid Tango clearly fucking…” 
“Yea - they’re none too subtle… wait are you jealous?” 
“No!… maybe…” and Grian chuckles a little, even more so when Joel backs into his bed, stumbling backwards and falling into the comfort of his own bed. Joel reaches out for him, hands grabbing at nothing in the air. 
“Cuddles?”
“Joel…” 
“Please, you always smell nice after going out…” Joel looks at him with big wet hazy eyes, like he’s looking up at him from the bottom of a pool and Grian’s resolve to fall back into his own bed is found lacking - that and Joel is practically already pulling him on top of himself.
“Can we at least move to my bed, there’s more space.” Joel shakes his head and squeezes him, admitting defeat, Grian just tucks himself into Joel’s hold, snuggling into the nook of his neck while Joel fumbles with trying to get his trousers off. 
“My bed… clearly better… got a cute boy on it,” and he winks and Grian just rolls his eyes and kicks his trousers off before adding his sweater to the little mess of clothes within the sea of mess swelling around them. He helps Joel out of his clothes and it’s quite easy considering his body currently has the fortitude of wet spaghetti. 
“At least we have our socks on still… bet Jimmy and Tango are already fist deep in each other.” 
“Gross but true.” Grian smiles back, shuffling to try and squeeze himself onto Joel’s single bed - a fine art he has perfected throughout his life. Eventually they find a comfortable rhythm, Grian laying on his side, Joel tucked into his chest with his back against the wall, buried beneath the sheets. 
Joel coos sweetly, burying himself into the little fuzz of his chest, “Grittes warm…” 
“Call them that again and you're sleeping on the floor” Joel faux gasps and pouts up at him before burying his face in Grian’s chest like a petulant child. Grian rubs half circles and long drawn out shapes that makes his spine shiver and hips stutter before melting into them, like his finger is a flame and Joel’s entire body is made of wax.
“No wonder you’re single… such a brute…” Joel mumbles, arching into Grian like his fingers are melting through him, a dreamy sigh eked out against his chest.
“Happily so, now go to sleep idiot, you’re not wanna get up for morning run.” 
#
When he finally peels himself from the icy hold of sleep, Joel’s head is thumping and his bones feel like thick stretches of blue ice slow to melt. Instinctively, he buries his head in his pillow, only his pillow is Grian’s chest.
Nice. 
He nuzzles into Grian’s cleavage and presses a sleepy sloppy kiss to him and gets a sleepy swat on the head that makes the mistakes of yesterday throb that bit harder. He always was a light sleeper.
Joel stretches his limbs past Grian, hanging off the edge of the bed, but before he could wrap around him he saw squiggles of black and against his skin. Beyond confusion, he pulls his arm back and waits for the world to render in. 
Handsome , scrawled down his arm. Well, they aren’t wrong. 
Joel wiggles free and sits up, back against the wall and finds his arms and chest scrawled with marker. Was this from the ladies of the bar, he doesn’t remember taking his shirt off… oh, Joel asked his favourite player to sign something for him. 
He looks down at Grian with an unmistakable fondness - that idiot… 
Joel sees his name scrawled on his chest, and little affections and praises scrawled sporadically across his upper body. 
“Superfan, come back to bed, it’s a rainy day…” Grian groans, pawing at his chest, trying to pull him back down - and who is Joel to say no to such a sweet fate. He sinks back into Grian’s arms with the pitter patter of the rain against his window - both of them sure that Jimmy and Tango are doing something gut wrottingly gay.
Yeah, those homos would.
AO3 Link
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some silly tangos i made recently
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Yeah just don't think about Scott frustration jerking it while thinking about Joel
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i immediately dropped everything to draw this . so i guess i failed
full img <- 🔞
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stuff i did for @cupofmysteriousfluid 's apr27th magma :3
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1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , 6 , 7
(click the links im too lazy to crop previews)
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happy (late) east4r20!!!
tumblr fucking obliterated my gorgeous image [high res]
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Grimpulse Commission I ask Mit_K. to draw >:]
(already asked for their permission to post here hehe)
Impulse Top Grian
Grian Top Impulse
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keep the hearth roaring and burning and I’ll warm your bones and hearts - a FlowerHusbands NSFW fic
[C/W for Somnophilia]
Tango was naught but embers by the time he finally finishes his daily tasks this week. Ranch work gets easier every year but Winter on the ranch never does. Sure he runs hot, but maintaining a stable core temp during blizzards and surprise snow storms is tiring - beyond tiring, at times he feels like he’s burning scraps and the dredges of kindling to keep his flames stoked. So naturally he falls asleep earlier... And... something is inside him // he is inside someone.
2.9k Words // AO3 Link
Scott is T-Masc and uses cunt, dick, hole when describing his genitals.
Something is inside of him. 
He is inside of something. 
Not that that is starling information for Tango. It was still a little distant, waking up still sleepy, the world slowly coming into focus - although he was abruptly greeted by a sharp chill sneaking its way into their bedroom before the warmth sneaking its way up its body subsumed him. He can hear Jimmy chip something, and Scott’s low sultry rebuttal leaves his feathered love grumbling and his ears are being blessed with Scott’s effortless laugh, sparkling like a star. 
Tango whines, back arching off the bed slightly as a pleasant warmth spreads across his hips, like the sparks off a striking stone. Something heavy and soft is settling over his pelvis, pressing him down and enveloping his cock entirely - oh he’s hard… ah okay, things begin to take shape, especially when he feels something sticky and warm dripping down the inside of his thigh. 
Still can’t bring himself to open his eyes - to ruin the surprise awaiting him - Tango is quite content to follow in the myriad sensations gradually taking shape in the dark. The waves of pleasure lap at his hip, gently rolling as - oh he’s stretching around something, someone slowly rocking into him and meeting his hips with a gentle press like a secret kiss. Tango gives him a flex, a reassuring little squeeze, and a little moan spills into the night air. 
He can’t help the sleepy smile that spreads across his lips. 
The light chatter, still distant, makes him feel undeniably cozy. The little words exchanged in the dark burn bright with tender affections, and between that and the pleasant weight across his hips and legs feeling more like a weighted blanket - Tango hasn’t felt so cozy in a while. 
“Aww you look close, pumpkin…” Scott coos so sweetly and unabashed that it’s almost like poison. Just from his voice, the way his words pick up and sparkles with something taunting, Tango can tell that Jimmy is probably trying so hard not to explode - it also helps he can feel him stiffen, trying to stop his cock from becoming a twitching throbbing mess: despite how good it feels. 
“Tango’s squeezing me like crazy,” Jimmy, in comparison, speaks in more hushed tones, like he’s aware there is someone sleeping. 
“Well you can give him another load can’t you, especially after he did some of your chores today.”
“You're the one who -” Jimmy gets cut off with a muffle, the little slick sounds of lips on lips, tongue spilling into a mouth it seeks ownership of, the steading of the hips against his own while the ones rolling to meet his rear speed up ever so slightly. Moans and whimpers get lost between their lips, and Tango can’t help but open his eyes, knowing he would be a little bitter if he didn’t get to witness the beautiful sight in front of him.
And beautiful it was indeed. Scott was straddling his hips, grinding down to meet him: cunt glistening in the small flame of the candle filling the room with blueberries and bergamot, his dick throbbing in a mix of overstimulation and want. The little constellations and stars doting the curves of his body sparkle with effortless ease, catching the light of the room as he turns to meet Jimmy behind him, enraptured with one another’s lips. Jimmy kisses him back, hair a mess of fluffy gold like a hay bale or golden fleece, whimpering and moaning, trying his best to quiet his pleasure as his hips grind down against him. He half clings to Scott, and arm around his waist, the other squeezing Tango’s hip - perhaps to steady himself or perhaps just to feel close to his rancher. 
Jimmy’s half lidded eyes, hazy and golden, widden ever so slightly when he sees Tango looking up at him but they screw shut as he lets go inside Tango. He falls onto Scott’s shoulder with a reassuring pat as his cock pulses and throbs cum into him. Tango lets a little moan float into the ear, his own cock throbbing deep in Scott, all of the sensations rising in him like water beginning to bubble.  
It is certainly better than any alarm or rooster. 
Scott’s eyes, dazzling gem dual tones, turn back to Tango and sparkle when he sees his little firesprite looking up at him with rosy cheeks. 
“Oh my, did we wake you bug?” Tango shakes his head, just taking in the beautiful sunrise in front of him. Although he does spare a glance out the window and through the thicket of white blanketing the window, he thinks he can see the Moon just starting its retreat. 
“Scott! I told you you were being too loud!” 
“Says the one currently shouting, sunshine,” Scott reaches a hand back and smoothes down some of the feathers that puff out, a little smile glittering in the dark as he rolls his hips against Tango, a low dull pleasure thrumming through his hips, bleeding warmth into the marrow of his bones.
“Go back to sleep firesprite, bet you’re beat,” Jimmy coos, a hand reaching down to join Scott’s other hand resting on his thigh, filling in the space between his fingers.  
Tango was naught but embers by the time he finally finishes his daily tasks this week. Ranch work gets easier every year but Winter on the ranch never does. Sure he runs hot, but maintaining a stable core temp during blizzards and surprise snow storms is tiring - beyond tiring, at times he feels like he’s burning scraps and the dredges of kindling to keep his flames stoked. 
But Jimmy and Scott wrapping around him almost feels like they are hunched over the fire, protecting him from the elements, letting him roar and grow - and they no doubt enjoy the warmth emanating out of his body. There was a reason he went to bed wearing that pair of red shorts - now somewhere around one of his ankles… 
“Actually I’ve had a pretty good sleep, which means I’m up now, which means…” Tango’s voice is low and smoky, filling the air until Scott and Jimmy can feel the embers of his voice running along the helix of their ears - and to prove his point just that bit more, he rolls his hips. Thrusting upwards into Scott has him stifling a moan; coming down to meet Jimmy’s, burying him nice and deep in his insides, making him flutter out a joyous little trill of pleasure he can’t bury in his throat. It’s… surprisingly intense - and Tango can’t quite decide if it’s just because he’s waking up or something more. 
“That you are…” Scott chuckles, running a hand through the soft fuzz of Tango’s thighs and belly, looming over him like he is the night sky just outside their farmhouse window. As Scott leans over him, eventually settling flat across his chest, pressing kisses to his neck, Tango can feel his arousal soaking into him, quietly surprised at just how much there is.  
“How… how long have you guys been going at it?” Tango asks sleepily, lifting his hands from the manacles of sleep to place them across Scott’s back, fingers delicately tracing the stars and cosmic sparkles imprinted on his skin. 
“About an hour, maybe two,” Scott mumbles, pressing a kiss against the hollow of his neck, stoking a little flame in his heart which has his chest rising to meet Scott’s. Tango leans back into the pillows, sinking back into them and exposing his neck to give Scott a fuller canvas. Pressing sleepy kisses into his neck, Scott’s breath hitches and his spine shivers as Tango’s hands gingerly run up and down his spine - drinking up the little shuddering moans spilling out as Jimmy rocks his hips back and forth at a comfortable pace.
“About four, someone couldn’t sleep,” Tango shudders and squeezes Scott slightly as Jimmy buries his entire length into Tango with relative ease. oh - that would be why he feels so tender, so sensitive, although not in an unpleasant way, it was weirdly comforting, like he could fall back asleep anytime he wants - and that was likely why the mess dripping down his thighs felt so plentiful: a mix of him and Scott, warm and sticky. Although even with Jimmy twitching and throbbing inside of him still, he could feel some of his previous orgasms spilling past his rim. 
“Well someone was cold, and didn’t want to get a fresh cord of firewood - despite having feathers,” Scott bites back, the sharpness of his voice catching them both by surprise. Tango runs a hand down Scott to take Jimmy’s idle hand with a smile, rubbing a little reassurance into his palm as they exchange quietly sympathetic looks over the star boy nestling into Tango’s warmth. 
Tango takes a breath, lets Scott hear it climb out of his chest like smoke from a factory. “Bad dreams, starlight?” Tango asks, feeling Scott shrink into him just that bit more until he feels like a distant star diminishing to a little sparkle against an inky curtain, a hand reaching up into Tango’s mane of flames while grinding his hips down. He knows he gets a little shorter - although he has certainly gotten better - if he’s woken up by… Well, it varies. 
Jimmy’s hands join Tango’s on Scott’s body, circling at the base of spine before slowly climbing upwards, as if beginning the climb towards a summit. Scott grinds against him, slow and starling rough, like he’s trying to sand the edges of Tango’s pelvis, but Tango happily lets him work out his frustration for a moment until he settles and finds the words he needs. 
“Yeah… sorry for snapping Jimmy, and for keeping you awake.” Scott pulls himself out of Tango’s neck, resting his head on his chest, and instantly leans into Jimmy’s hand which finds its way to brush through fluffy teal hair. 
“It’s okay stardust, you want to talk about it with me and Tango?”
“Maybe in the morning…” Scott yawns, one of those loud primal yawns that shake the foundations. Tango is surprised he’s still awake, but he’s hanging on, fighting to keep his eyes open. A little lull of silence fill the air between the three, still entangled with one another, although Tango can see Jimmy flinching and tensing whenever he adjusts or moves in bed.
“Jim, you can pull out.” 
“But you’re warm… world cold, T-ass warm.” Scott groans at Jimmy’s whimpering chirp - Tango joins him. Jimmy looks pleased with himself. 
“Please Jimmy,” Tango asks, looking up at his ranchers as his hand rakes across Scott’s abdomen and the whimper he lets out is viscerally intoxicating. Tango can see the chickens hatching behind his eyes as Tango squeezes Scott’s ass and he tries to hide away in the nook of his neck to squash the moans that spill out. 
Jimmy pulling out makes both of them shudder - he can fill the mess spilling out and he feels weirdly empty without Jimmy buried in him. But he can lament his empty hole later… now…
Tango slowly rolls until Scott is under him, swapping their positions, hands settling on his hips. Scott’s breath catches at just how easily Tango moves him so easily, even more so when he realises Tango is still buried balls deep in him. 
“Well, now that I’m awake, think you can manage one more round for me stardust, would be nice to give you my full undivided attention,” Tango purrs, thumbs settling into the little grooves and dips of Scott’s hips with ease, coaxing out deep shuddering noises. 
“Jim, could you-” Jimmy’s moving before Tango finishes his sentence, seemingly reading his mind as he settles at the top of the bed, lowering Scott’s head into his lap. 
“Thank you cowboy,” Tango leaves over and gives Jimmy a kiss, a warm little thing - he can feel his heart flutter on his tongue, taste the want as he leans into him. Scott keens out a whimper out of them and almost jumps when Tango’s thumb presses down against his cock - he instinctively squeezes Tango. The two moan at the viscerally wet sounds that spill from between them as Tango’s finger digs into Scott, rubbing his cock in slow meandering movement, as does Jimmy, watching with wide eyes as his hand gently cards through Scott’s hair, hand on his chin rubbing reassurance into his jawline. 
“Someone’s needier than they were letting on… Scott…” Tango’s voice grows a little more pointed as he rolls his hips at a leisurely pace, letting himself spill halfway out before rocking back into him, pushing a whimpering moan out of Scott.
“Maybe… didn’t want to be a bo-”
“We can always make time for you, stardust, don’t be silly.” Jimmy cuts him off, tilting his head up so they can look into one another's eyes while Tango continues to pull feeble sounds of pleasure from Scott’s overstimulated hole, twitching and clinging to him. 
“Always, just got to let us know,” Tango adds, enamoured with how easily Scott’s eyes get increasingly wet and hazy as he melts between them, unable to stop even the smallest sound from sneaking out of his lips. 
The sight of Scott taking one of Jimmy’s fingers into his mouth almost makes him cum - it makes him spurt out a glob of pre for sure - shuddering at how Scott swallows him up, slathering Jimmy’s fingers in attention. Tango’s hips slow to a crawl, keeping Scott spread open on his cock, but more concerned with kneading pleasure into his cock - tugging it between two fingers which make’s Scott jump like he’s been struck by lightning. 
“Come on stardust, be a good boy and cum for us one more time…” Jimmy coos, voice a little deeper, darker, enough that it makes both Scott and Tango shiver. Tango works his cock a little harder, stroking him from tip to the sloppy slick mess at the base, eyes sparkling at the way Scott jumps and chases his hand, muffled moans spilling out past Jimmy’s fingers. 
It’s not long before Scott’s arching off the bed like Jimmy and Tango are pylons bouncing electricity up and down and body. 
While Tango is focused on the way Scott is shaking, melting into the sheets beneath him, he sneaks glances up at Jimmy, mirroring his own enamoured expression with Scott.
The way Scott shivers and whines, whimpering like he’s being stabbed when Tango finally pulls away, leaving his hole slick and gaping, cock still throbbing… almost tempts him into fucking Scott until the bed frame breaks.
But he really doesn’t want to sleep on the floor and spend tomorrow fixing the bed and he can also see Scott fighting to stay awake. Hopefully he should sleep a little easier now. Tango slips to the side of Scott, Jimmy moving to make space for him between them.
Scott’s breath steadies, slowly meeting a relaxed plateau, and Tango’s eyes burn with affection as his shooting star tucks himself close and yawns. 
“Come to bed, bug…” Scott mumbles, eyes just about open as Tango settles into the middle of the bed - usually Jimmy’s spot but no one seems to mind at the moment. Tango brushes some hair out of Scott’s eyes as smiles down at the little star still shining so bright in the dark. 
“I’m up now, and gotta feed the chickens in a couple hours, so no point in going back to sleep. But you two, come here, and get cozy.” Scott, already half clinging to Tango, slinks to his side, tucking one of his legs around Tango as he buries his face into his side and drops his surprising ease. It takes Jimmy and Tango by surprise, how effortlessly he falls asleep once his face is tucked into Tango’s side and an arm is around him.
“The Scott whisperer strikes again,” Jimmy comments with raised brows and a smile and Tango has to hold back the giggle that threatens to explode from him - not wanting to wake Scott after he settled so quickly. 
“What can I say, cute boys and chickens find me very charming,” Tango bolsters, puffing out his chest a little as Jimmy slides onto him with a quiet laugh, resting his head on the other side of Tango’s chest. 
“That they do darling… that we do.” 
“Stop fighting to stay awake cowboy, get some rest, I’ll make you omelettes when you wake up,” Jimmy yawns, finally, letting all the sounds of sleep he’s been holding in his throat spill out. 
“Sounds absolutely slapping babe… can’t wait…” Jimmy nuzzles his chest and tucks his hand into Scott’s resting ease on Tango’s lap. He can feel his breathing relax and mellow out as Tango rubs circles into his back, guiding Jimmy back into the haze of sleep until his chirping little snores fill the air. 
“Goodnight…”
“Goodnight sheriff.”
Tango relaxes, arms around the sun and the moon, watching the snowfall heavy outside. He isn’t looking forward to going back out there, but for now he’s warm, running hot in the best way possible. 
He really should have run a bath before letting them fall asleep… so sticky… but Scott’s soft cooing and Jimmy’s easy little trills are worth it. They are worth it.
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