noequals - Tumblr blog

[noequals]

shhh old man fuckin

[noequals]

@explosivehead & @midnightfiireworks

[ HIPS ]:  sender  pulls  receiver  in  closer  by  the  hips. | Saint pulling him in from behind by his hips, Rohan is in front of him. Saint purrs in his ear, "I cannot wait to see you come undone, my love."

ambush.

he had known saint was coming to neomuna this week, and he had known saint was hinting at something, which rohan later hinted at himself. what he did not know was what both he and aarush had planned for him exactly. to say he is pleasantly surprised by this would perhaps be an understatement.

they must have talked about it while he busied himself with the logs. what he would give to have seen that conversation.

right now, however, he is in a partial state of undress. his armor removed, most of his many layers lay scattered on the ground with his scarf hanging loosely around his neck. he can't help the way he shivers at saint's whispered promise and the way aarush's eyes rake down his body. he is bare between them, shorn of the layers he hides behind, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

the familiarity of saint's hands on his hips does little to calm him, only exciting him further for what's to come. "oh," he finds himself saying, rather lamely, followed by a shy laugh.

he's quick to follow up, more self assured. "i doubt i will be any other way if i am to be handled by the both of you." there is an eagerness in his voice that he so rarely allows himself.

[noequals]

*      ―    ﴾  𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠  𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚜  ﴿   :    𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒  𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘  𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

personally ,   i’m  tired  of  the  secondhand  embarrassment.   so  here’s  a  random  assortment  of  nsfw  actions  and  dialogue  prompts  that  don’t  feel  too  over  the  top.   (  don’t  forget  to  add  [ reverse ]  if  you’d  like  to  see  the  receiver  perform  the  action.  )

actions.

[ PULL ]:  sender  pulls  receivers  hair.

[ HICKEY ]:  sender  gives  receiver  a  hickey.

[ TRAIL ]:  sender  leaves  a  trail  of  kisses  down  receivers  stomach.

[ HIPS ]:  sender  pulls  receiver  in  closer  by  the  hips.

[ KNEES ]:  sender  lowers  themselves  to  their  knees.

[ STRIPTEASE ]:  sender  teasingly  strips  their  clothes.

[ STRIP ]:  sender  undresses  receiver.

[ GRIND ]:  sender  grinds  on  receivers  thigh.

[ ORAL ]:  sender  goes  down  on  receiver.

[ PASSENGER ]:  sender  touches  receiver  while  sender  is  driving.

[ DRIVER ]:  sender  goes  down  on  /  touches  receiver  while  receiver  is  driving.

[ OVERSTIMULATED ]:  sender  repeatedly  making  receiver  orgasm.

[ PUBLIC ]:  sender  and  receiver  have  sex  somewhere  public.

[ CAR ]:  sender  and  receiver  have  sex  in  a  car.

[ CONTROL ]:  sender  is  riding  receiver  and  receiver  takes  control  by  guiding  their  hips.

[ SHY ]:  sender  covers  their  face  and  receiver  moves  their  hands  away.

[ EYES ]:  sender  makes  receiver  look  them  in  the  eyes.

[ BEG ]:  sender  begs  receiver  to  touch  /  fuck  them.

[ MORNING ]:  sender  wakes  receiver  up  with  sex.

[ STRADDLE ]:  sender  sits  in  receivers  lap  to  tease  them.

[ CAMERA ]:  sender  records  receiver.

[ RECORD ]:  sender  is  recorded  by  receiver.

[ MOUTH ]:  sender  puts  their  fingers  into  receivers  mouth.

[ LOVE ]:  sender  tells  receiver  they  love  them  during.

[ PUSH ]:  sender  pushes  receiver  onto  bed.

dialogue.

“ you  look  so  pretty  like  this.  “

“ i  want  to  spend  all  night  learning  every  sound  you  make. “

“ let  me  take  care  of  you. “

“ i’m  not  wearing  any  underwear  right  now. “

“ you’re  really  good  at  that. “

“ god,  you’re  so  wet  /  hard  …. “

“ i  think  about  you  when  i  touch  myself. “

“ tell  me  what  you  want. “

“ please  touch  /  fuck  me. “

“ i  love  teasing  you. “

“ touch  yourself  for  me. “

“ i  get  so  wet  /  hard  around  you. “

“ get  on  your  knees. “

“ you’re  such  a  tease. “

“ tell  me  you’re  mine. “

“ i’m  yours. “

“ i  want  you  to  cum  for  me. “

“ i  want  you  to  cum  in  me. “

“ i’ll  be  good,  i  promise. “

“ you’re  doing  so  good  for  me. “

“ you  feel  so  good. “

“ you  sound  so  pretty  when  you  moan. “

“ i  could  be  your  toy. “

“ fuck  me  like  you  love  me. “

“ i’m  gonna  cum- “

“ i  just  want  to  feel  something. “

“ i  wanna  be  on  top  this  time. “

[noequals]

[noequals]

call osiris a gardener the way he's burying his seed of silver wings is this anything

[noequals]

he has absolutely nothing to say on the matter. he is entirely neutral on two large and handsome men. nothing to think about. no sir.

[noequals]

[noequals]

💋do they like to kiss while having sex? do they cuddle afterward?

prompt

yes and yes. i don't really have anything to ellaborate on i just think he's really tactile.

[noequals]

🧑‍🤝‍🧑🧑‍🤝‍🧑how do they feel about having multiple partners at once? have they ever done it?

prompt

okay bear with me on this one...

this is a little complicated to answer if only because i just Know he used his reflections inappropriately. so like . does that count as multiple partners at once if it's him?

anyways. i think he's like fine with it theoretically but i don't think he's ever done it with multiple partners. yet.

[noequals]

👄do they prefer oral or penetrative sex more?

prompt

i think he likes them fairly equally HOWEVER...

osiris absolutely has an oral fixation. i just know he does. he likes both giving And receiving oral. he's especially a big fan of seeing his partner between his legs.

[noequals]

🌙do they need an emotional connection or are one-night-stands an option?

prompt

osiris needs an emotional connection.

he's a very private man and i think sex, for him at least, is a very private and intimate act. that and i think when he was "younger" he tried having one-night-stands a couple times but found he didn't like it very much. a very small amount of people get to see him at his barest and he'd prefer to keep it that way.

[noequals]

𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

🧑‍🤝‍🧑🧑‍🤝‍🧑how do they feel about having multiple partners at once? have they ever done it? 🪢do they have a kink? if so, what is it? 💸have they ever or would they ever accept money or gifts in exchange for sex? 🍆how do they feel about toys? do they have any? what’s their favorite? do they use them with partners? 🌙do they need an emotional connection or are one-night-stands an option? 🫂how do they feel about friends with benefits? 🍒how old were they when they lost their virginity? to whom? was it significant? 🏳️‍🌈what’s their sexual orientation? have they ever experimented outside of that [for more binary orientations such as heterosexual/homosexual]? 👄do they prefer oral or penetrative sex more? ↕️are they a sub, dom, or switch? top, bottom, or switch? 🛏️what’s their favorite position? 🔢what’s their body count? 🕒what’s the longest time they went without engaging in sexual activity with a partner? [masturbation doesn’t count] 👀how do they feel about voyeurism? exhibitionism? 🏬would they have sex in public? if so, how public is too public? 🤪what’s the wildest place they’ve ever done something sexual? ❤️‍🔥what’s their most erogenous zone? 💋do they like to kiss while having sex? do they cuddle afterward? 💦what’s their immediate post-orgasm reaction? 🫶what does after care look like for them?

[noequals]

osiris laughs.

not because he thinks aarush is being funny, of course, only that the emotion that wells up inside at the compliment is too much to contain. he breathes out, more steady, blinking once or twice to try and regain some clarity after that shattering orgasm.

aarush's hands on him — in him — is an idle comfort now and he's not entirely sure if he has another in him. (though he'd be both impressed yet unsurprised if aarush drags another out anyways.)

his eyes soften as aarush thumbs at his dick over his own fingers and he moves them, choosing instead to settle his hand over the cloud strider's head once more. feels how the quicksilver keratin is beneath his touch. the subtlest of grains betraying the nanites' work.

osiris lets out a low, slow moan as his lover's mouth finds him once more. with desperation for completion no longer seizing his body, he allows himself to simply savor the feeling. he'll take the slower pace as easily as he took the passionate tempo earlier.

"you're one to talk," he mutters, voice raw, "seeing as you're the one with his head between my thighs."

and it is a scene he hopes to burn into his memory. he doesn't think he could ever tire of the sight. he never wants to tire of it. so he takes what he can of this. secures it in his heart for hard times to come.

he doesn't move his hips this time to guide nor to meet him. instead, he will allow aarush the selfishness of working him up all over again.

when osiris' orgasm hits, rohan takes the opportunity to drink it in.

the way he trembles, the moans that force themselves from his lips— it ignites a fire in his belly, settles molten warmth deep in his stomach. he wants to savor this moment. he wants to keep that feeling deep inside him, to warm and remind him through the lonely nights to come. rohan shifts, shudders.

“again?” he breathes. he teases. it is still so very genuine.

as the trembles subside, as osiris comes down from his third orgasm, rohan cannot help but just drink the moment in. his cheek against osiris' thigh, his fingers slowing their speed, their respective thumb lifting to trace the length of his dick (over osiris' own fingertips) before encircling the base. slow, idle, lazy.

“osiris,” hums the cloud strider, and he turns his head. he presses first a kiss to those tanned thighs, and then takes the chance to nip.

“do you know how good you look right now?”

perhaps it is not the cleverest thing to say. perhaps it is not the words rohan should say; there is no poetry to be woven, no honeyed words gently dripfed. but it is the truth. he is undone, and osiris is once again the culprit. but so, too, has rohan dragged him from the sky. wrapped him close, pulled him from the heavens, softened his descent as best he could—

he would do it again, too, if given the chance. because osiris has given him a taste of selfishness, and now he is almost desperate for it. and so he lowers his head, flicks his tongue once more along the length of osiris' dick.

[noequals]

really gotta sit down and make a writeup of osiris and intimacy tbh.

[noequals]

it's his request and the rumble of his voice that does osiris in.

who is he to deny him? "yes, aarush, yes." rare obedience, what usually would be met with a biting make me is instead turned into simple adoration. he can't help what aarush does to him — how he draws out his pleasure, how he drinks of him as though a man in the desert. it makes his head spin and his stomach flutter more than it already is.

his third orgasm hits him hard, his head lolling to the side as he grinds his hips down against those wonderful and clever fingers. if he could, he would ride down on them forever. he feels high on how little friction there is now with how he drips around aarush's fingers.

he forgets what he was fretting over so much, caught up in how his body shakes in response to aarush. the pleasant way he fills him. his breath against his thighs. protective. safe. possessive. (known.) he pants, lifting his hand from the sheets, running down his body, ghosting over his dick, feeling the aftershocks of his lover's unrelenting thrusts.

after so long being disposed of it feels good to relearn the pleasures of the body. the carnality of this, especially so. and how lucky is he to receive these simple reminders from such handsome partners? (and though he might scoff at the idea of someone caring for him... there is something so human about wanting to be wanted.)

if aarush admires the way he's debauched the great osiris, then osiris is even more smug about the way he's made the hero rohan desperate for his moans. and maybe he likes that in general. pulling base desires from heroes, and easing their burdens if only for a night.

he doesn't know how many more orgasms he'll be able to take before he becomes oversensitive and exhausted, but he doesn't particularly want or care to stop now. even if he no longer has that endless well of energy. aarush said he would take until there's nothing left to take from him. (who is he to deny him?)

"fuck, aarush."

osiris begins to repeat his name, again and again, and there are no words to describe what it does to him.

heat rises to his cheeks, falls to the pit of his stomach with every aarush that escapes. his jaw clenches. his heart pounds in his ears. rohan has to turn his head, to bury his face in osiris' thigh in the hopes of muffling the noises it draws from him. he could find ecstasy in this alone.

he opens his mouth, and nips down again on that soft skin. it gives him enough courage to murmur, "you have no idea what you're doing to me."

osiris is so stretched around his fingers, so wet that he's practically dripping. rohan makes a mental note to clean him after they're done, and perhaps find a different spot on the bed to rest for the night. it's certainly big enough. even for a cloud strider, the bed is large enough to allow him to stretch, and change positions. they will be more than comfortable enough tonight.

(perhaps it isn't the time to be thinking about the after, but the after is what saves him from considering the desire pooling between his thighs. from acknowledging how his hips twitch and roll almost on their own, searching for relief. instinctual, human, and certainly not rohan's focus.)

"i can wait," he says, and leaves it at that.

what he wants to say is i am afraid i will break you. or perhaps even i will not stop your pleasure for my own. but there is no time to force those words out, nor the meanings behind them. all he is focused on, in this moment, is osiris. the way he writhes around his fingers, the way he has to force himself to finish even half a thought.

to know that he can strike such a man down with two fingers and his tongue sets his nerves alight. hearing the way osiris babbles his name causes blood to pound beneath dark skin. it is a different sort of pleasure, to see his lover in such a state, and to know that he is the one who took the great osiris there. it does not matter to rohan if he satisfies his needs now, or later when he is alone and showering. none of that matters.

this is the sight that will carry him to completion, either way. he will lie in the dark for nights to come with 'aarush, aarush, aarush' echoing in the back of his mind. he hopes, when the time comes, his name upon those lips is that last thing he hears. it would be a cruelty to depart otherwise.

"come again for me," whispers aarush, "and know that i won't stop until there is little left of you."

[noequals]

the intensity in aarush's eyes captivates him.

the careful way aarush handles him, slowly placing him back on the sheets if only to reposition himself. osiris is enamored by the way he moves. he is enamored by how aarush holds on tight to his thigh, fingers digging divots into his skin. he knows by the end of tonight they'll blossom into bruises and he will be glad of it. there is no coherent thought that comes to mind, only those of aarush.

aarush's biolights. aarush's skin. aarush's teeth. aarush's augments. aarush's beard. aarush's eyes.

aarush aarush aarush.

(he does not recognize how he babbles out loud. so caught in the moment.)

osiris savors the way his name and form takes shape. his eyes chase lines of tight muscles and popping veins and the fat at his core to keep everything safe. a cloud strider may be a marvel but the human body is even more so.

osiris whines at the second intrusion, it's not as much of a burn as he initially thought it would be. from both orgasms to the way aarush so lovingly spread him open, it's but a pleasant stretch. but even he must acknowledge that just two fingers is... well it's a lot. aarush is much much larger than him, and osiris isn't a tall man himself either. which only means they'll have to get creative with it.

he doesn't mind the thought. he likes to believe he's creative.

"yes," he hisses out, pleased by the way his lover speeds the tempo back up to what it was. it occurs to him now as a third orgasm quickly approaches that he hasn't returned in kind and how much he wishes to. but he doesn't know how to put it to words when he's busy being fucked open by two of aarush's fingers.

and oh he seems insistent on preventing him any thought. still he pushes his mind through the haze. stubborn in his own way. searching eyes meet those of silver, a question of his own. yet to be asked and yet to be answered.

"aarush," he starts with a keen, "aarush are you... do you want...?" he asks as though the words were punched out of him. half-formed yet entirely insistent. he hopes his message is clear: he wants aarush's pleasure as much as aarush wants his.

slowly, rohan removes his hand from osiris’ back.

he lowers the other back onto silken sheets with such care and reverence, as though the man in his arms is something holy. and perhaps he is. not holy in the same way a deity would be, but buried in the sanctified mundane. the soothing chill in neomuna’s winds, the warmth in his chest after sharing a good meal; evidence of the divine scattered in the everyday.

rohan has never been a religious man, but he could find divinity buried between osiris’ legs. the divine, justified in over ninety-thousand nerve endings; in soft moans, whispered gasps; in the warmth and wet so intoxicating rohan himself could lose himself in it. he hooks an arm around osiris’ thigh. calloused fingers and metal augments dig into loose skin as he grips osiris with a sort of possessiveness unbecoming of the cloud strider.

“if you’re sure,” rumbles rohan, against osiris’ thigh. he allows himself the indulgence of a small taste, of a nip of skin. the augments beneath his lip brush across where his teeth scraped. “who am i to deny you this?”

he pulls his hand back, just enough to allow himself to slip a second finger along with the first. rohan has to turn his head, bury his mouth into soft skin, to muffle the moaned hymn that tears itself from his lips. the sensation, the ghost of a promise it brings, the noises pouring from osiris— how easily they unravel him. how they take as greedily as he gives.

(and he wants, he wants, he wants—)

it is not a moment later that he resumes his previously slowed speed. the biolights along his forearms, his throat, his thighs dance an indiscernible pattern. he rests his cheek against osiris’ thigh. silver eyes comb over osiris’ form as he, too, slowly unravels. the sight is a high unto itself.

he knows, when the night comes where osiris has returned to earth and he is alone, it is this sight he will think about. it is this moment he will replay, again and again, as it fulfills a need in him only osiris could unlock.

[noequals]

let's go basic. fan of biting?

take a guess

" yes. "