#a swiss beard

[mrdirtybear]

'Self Portrait' as painted in 1895 by Swiss painter, illustrator, sculptor, and graphic artist, Cuno Amiet (1868-1961). Amiet created more than 4,000 paintings, of which more than 1,000 are self-portraits. The breadth of his work of 70 years and his joy in experimentation make his œuvre appear disparate at first. A constant, though, is the primacy of colour. His numerous landscape paintings depict many winter scenes, gardens and fruit harvests. Ferdinand Hodler remained a constant point of reference for Amiet, though his artistic intentions diverged ever further from those of Hodler, whom Amiet could never match in his mastery of monumental scale and form.

[atna2-34-75]

Swiss beardos

Geneva, Musée d’Art et d’Histoire

Ferdinand Hodler, Autoportrait, 1879

Ferdinand Hodler, Der Zornige, 1881

Ferdinand Hodler, Autoportrait parisien, 1891

Horace de Saussure, Autoportrait, 1885

Giovanni Giacometti, Autoportrait, 1899

Alexandre Blanchet, Autoportrait, 1904

Cuno Amiet, Autoportrait en blanc, 1907

[thegrandmarsh]

being horny for specific actors has expanded my film repertoire more than anything else has

[spock-smokes-weed]

I finally have all the supplies to start on my Obi-Wan wig and beard I’m literally quaking

[musclefilia]

How 141 eats pussy

Ghost definitely has some experience under his belt. He keeps quiet, having lifted his mask just over his nose to expose your cunt directly to his breath. His eyes are locked with yours, almost piercing into your thoughts. He has you pinned down with one hand on your stomach, and one around your thigh, pushing down slightly and gripping harder whenever you squirm around. Could edge you for hours, nipping at your clit with his teeth, and diving his tongue in just enough to cause you some pleasure, but not enough to make you cum. Time feels like a blur, but by the time you pass out, he's managed to rip 6 orgasms out of you.

Soap is a lot more vocal than Ghost. He likes teasing you, and seeing how embarrassed he can make you. His burly arms snuggly hold you in place by the thighs, his mouth hovering expectantly over womanhood. Chuckles whenever your whine at his light touches, obviously done just to wind you up. Lucky for you, he's not patient enough to edge you for that long. When even he can't take it anymore, he just dives in, with his tongue going as deep as it can go. Needless to say he's a pretty sloppy eater. Makes you cum a few times before he climbs on top of you, or you get on top of him.

Price is much softer than the previous two men. Takes his time, but doesn't really tease you much. His grip on you is soft, but one that keeps you in place as his beard tickles the insides of your thighs. Praises you to the max, often with sweet pet names like darling, sweetheart and honey. It's hard to keep eye contact with him when he looks up at you, like a big puppy. He loves to go in as deep as he can with his tongue, his facial hair rubbing against your cunt adding even more to your pleasure. Likes to go a few rounds after he makes you cum a few times, filling you up nice and good.

Gaz is sort of the swiss army knife of pussy eating. Focused on your pleasure, to the point that he can cum just from eating you out. Way more experimental than the other 3 guys, willing to try pretty much anything if you'll like it. Very grabby, his hands move around to your thighs, your ass, or your stomach. Spends a lot of time on your clit, biting, pinching, licking, stimulating it in any way he can. Loves having you ride him after the fact, specifically in the reverse cowgirl position (he's an ass man)..

[octuscle]

My professor is such a pain in the ass! I tried turning him into an average dumb college frat guy, but it’s not working!

Whew! Indeed, your professor is a tough nut to crack. He's as stiff as if he'd swallowed a stick. On time like a Swiss watch. And the strictest teacher imaginable. I'll see what I can do. Time is pressing, it's Friday and the exam period starts on Monday.

07:30. Your professor's shiny Volvo rolls into the faculty parking lot. He's always on time to the second. His suit may be cheap, but it's immaculate. And he walks into the staff room with his hair perfectly parted. No one notices the small tattoo on his forearm.

When he arrives at your lecture, it's like a sensation: he's not wearing polished Oxfords, he's wearing sneakers. Pretty cool, pretty expensive sneakers. And WHITE socks! He's never been seen wearing anything like that before. And you swear his stomach is flatter. Normally his jacket always conceals a tummy bulge. But now his silhouette is perfectly slim. Unfortunately, it doesn't change anything about his lecture. He's way too fast, firing his questions like a sniper in the direction of the students who weren't paying attention. He's a pain in the ass, and that hasn't changed yet.

During the lunch break, the professor is seen wearing jeans for the first time. Pretty crisp fitting jeans. He really has a tight ass. And damn: Does he actually have a beard shadow? Normally he's always perfectly shaved. You're sitting in the canteen with your bruhs when he approaches you and asks "All gud, bruhs? can one of you give me uh fag? I must have forgotten mine at home…" You are far too surprised not to give him a cigarette. "You're such uh lifesaver, dude," says your professor and asks what you're up to this weekend. You tell him about your plans to go to the sports bar, work out in the gym and maybe take a trip to the beach on Sunday. "Sick thing" replies the professor. "See you around, bruhs!" He leaves you with your mouths hanging open.

The professor leaves the parking lot in his open-top Mustang with loud hip-hop music and screeching tires. You grin broadly. Your plan seems to be working. You are sure of it when you meet the next day at the gym. Your professor has a cool haircut, a stylish beard and looks like he's a regular at the tattoo parlor. You greet each other with a fist bump. And when he takes off his sweaty T-shirt after two hours, you say goodbye with a chest bump. Damn, this guy has a killer body.

On the beach, your prof disappears from time to time with random people and goes to the trunk of his Mustang. Shit, he's selling drugs. Hashish or apparently steroids and other stuff. And at sunset you see him lying on his towel smoking pot while one of the musclemen from the gym massages his nipples. Fuck, the boner in his surfer shorts is impressive. You're very pleased with yourself. You don't need to be afraid of tomorrow. It's a good thing you didn't waste the weekend studying.

Hot picture, you think to yourself on Monday morning when you see your professor's latest post on Instagram. And then you read the caption: "Sicc training 2 start the new wk. Now let's go kicc sum student ass. I luv it when i c the airheads sweating over my exam questions"

Pic found @marechais

[fredwkong]

Any other boxers available? Maybe even briefs or a jockstrap?

Mu Upsilon Sigma has chapters in most major cities, each with a slightly different identity. They’re sure to find you before long if you keep asking questions like that.

You open your bedroom door and are immediately assaulted by the overpowering stench of male sweat and cum. Sitting in the middle of your bed are a pair of boxer briefs with a hot pepper pattern. On top is a sheet of printer paper with the text, “A gift from the MYS boys,” on it.

As if transfixed, you step to the foot of your bed and pick up the boxers. They’re crusty with old cum and stale sweat, and the scent pouring off in waves has you lightheaded. You scratch your head, which feels suddenly hot, and are surprised when your fingers catch on dreadlocks.

With sweat pouring down your forehead into your newly grown beard, you strip out of your clothes and step into the boxers, pulling them up legs that suddenly burst with brown muscle. The scent only intensifies as your cock falls into the pouch and surges to double its original size, leaking musky pre into the existing stains.

By the time the MYS brothers come to pick you up, you’re a musky Black hunk with a brain like swiss cheese. It’s all you can do to remember what holes on a man your big cock fits in. Maybe you should pass your boxer briefs to a prof next; it’s the only way you’re gonna pass this term!

[mrdirtybear]

'Portrait of The Artists Father in a landscape, Bergel' as painted in 1892 by Swiss painter Giovanni Giacometti (1868-1933).

[chapel-of-rizztual]

Could you maybe do nipple sucking with Cumulus and the rest of the ghouls (Rainy and Swiss) please? It’s so comforting for me!

Cw: nipple sucking, non sexual intimacy, nightmare mention.

Cumulus wakes up to the bed moving and the bed covers she’d been cocooned in lifted letting in a draft. Normally she wouldn’t be so confused, she’d just assume it was Cirrus making her way to bed but she could feel the ghoulette still pressed up against her back, exactly where she had been when they both fell asleep.

She makes a sound, somewhere between a questioning hum and a squeak of confusion as the mystery body climbs under the covers and cuddles into her naked body.

“Sorry.” The silky smooth voice that she recognises as Swiss whispers into the darkness. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

She wraps her arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to her. He lets out a chuff as he lets himself be moved, giving the middle of her chest and affectionate bump with his forehead.

“You don’t have to apologise, darling. You’re always welcome here.”

Swiss lets out another chuff as he tangles his legs with hers, rubbing his face in the valley of her breasts. She giggles as his beard tickles her chest. She scratches under his chin making him tilt his head back and a rumbly purr vibrate through his chest.

“I had a weird dream.” He whispers as he purrs. “I had to make sure you were still here.”

Cumulus tightens her arms around his shoulders, winding then unwinding one of his dread locks around her finger repeatedly. “A weird dream? What about, baby?”

Swiss lets out a pained hum, scooting even closer to her so there’s space between the two of them.

“You went missing in the forest. Nobody could find you, not even Mountain.” He rubs his cheek against her chest. “I woke up before anyone found you. So I had to make sure you were actually still here.”

“Im still here, baby. I have no plans on going anywhere.” She caresses his cheek, running her thumb along his cheekbone.

Swiss leans into her touch, rubbing his cheek on her thumb in return. “You promise? I don’t know what I’d do without you, mama.”

“I promise, baby. I need you just as much as you need me.” She hums, kissing the top of his head.

Swiss chirps, satisfied with her answer, and buries his face deeper into her chest. “Can I sleep here tonight?” He whispers, Like he’s scared she’ll say no and kick him out.

“Of course, honey! Like I said before, you’re always welcome here.”

“I don’t want to wake Cirrus up, that’s all.” Swiss sounds uncharacteristically shy when he says that.

“Oh please, don’t worry about her. If they made sleeping an Olympic sport she’d win gold.” Cumulus giggles to herself. “And then she’d sleep through the award ceremony.”

Swiss snorts a laugh.

“At least she doesn’t snore like Dew does. Who knew someone that small could make that much noise.”

“He just has to always be annoying, even when he’s asleep.” Cumulus giggles.

Swiss goes to say something else but he gets cut off by a yawn. He stretches as he yawns, trying not to dig his claws into her hip.

“Oh big yawn.” Cumulus coos at him. “Are you sleepy, darling?”

Swiss hums.

“Yeah, it’s late now. Or early, I guess.”

“You wanna go back to sleep, honey? Think you’ll be okay to do that?” Cumulus scratches at his scalp with her claws, pulling a deeper purr from him.

Swiss doesn’t reply, just nods and lets himself relax into her touch, waiting to drift off to sleep. Cumulus stays awake for a few more minutes, until she’s sure that Swiss is asleep with no signs of more weird dreams.

She’s just letting herself begin to drift off, letting sleep cloud her mind and drag her off into unconsciousness, when a warm and wet sensation suddenly surrounds her nipple pulling her back from the brink of sleep.

She makes a strangled sound, jolting back making the sensation suddenly disappear.

“Sorry- I’m sorry.” Swiss looks up at her with a very guilty look on his face. “Sorry, it’s just that I-“

“Shh, it’s okay.” Cumulus cuts him off. “I just wasn’t expecting it. You made me jump, that’s all.”

Swiss still looks guilty.

“I-I should have asked, I’m sorry, I just- it’s just-“

“It’s okay, i promise.” She curs him off again. “You never have to ask, not for that. You know I’ll never say no.”

She guides his head back down so he can latch back into her and begging sucking at her nipple once again. He lets out a deep sigh as he begins to suckle gently, his hand that’s resting on her hip starts to knead at the flesh on instinct. Cumulus hums, scratching at Swiss’ scalp again making him thrill and suck a little harder, his eyes slipping closed.

She can’t help letting herself enjoy this as she looks down at Swiss, watching his cheeks hollow slightly as he sucks, letting out little contented hums and sighs alongside little sucking sounds. It’s rare for Swiss to ask for this. Normally Swiss’ comfort looks like a joint and kneeling for Mountain, letting him take control over him. He’s only ever come to her a handful of times, so Cumulus treasures every time he does.

He lets out a long sigh, letting a puff of air out against her breast making her jump slightly. She strokes her thumb along his cheek, up to his eyebrow and smooths out the stray hairs that are sticking up. Swiss hums again, his eyes fluttering open for a brief second before they close again and he nuzzles even deeper into her, sucking a little harder.

Cumulus strokes his face for a few more seconds , just making sure he’s actually asleep this time. Once she’s satisfied that he is, she wiggles a little to get more comfortable, pulling the covers around her a little tighter. Behind her Cirrus groans, her arm around her waist tightening in a slightly possessive manner, like she’s scared Cumulus will leave her even in her sleep. But as Cumulus suspected, she stays asleep. Her ability to sleep through anything is one Cumulus has always envied.

Once she’s fully settled, she cradles Swiss’ head against her and rubs her thumb along the nape of his neck. A purr begins to vibrate through her chest matching Swiss’ very rumbly and breathy purr, broken up between his sucking. She thrills sleepily, happy and content sandwiched between two of her loves as she begins to fall asleep.

[thelampisaflashlight]

Swiss: "Aether grew a beard while we were away on tour, and I haven't seen Dew since we got back home." -sipping his coffee- "I'm not saying these two things are in any way related, however-"

[thatfuckinjester]

ghouls as clowns

basically me infodumping about clowns and saying which ghouls are them based on vibes only

under the cut because i know some people are scared of clowns and there are clown photos here

TRADITIONAL CLOWNS

The White Clown

the white clown is the oldest clown archetypes, they're also usually the leaders when they preform with other clowns, they use clown white makeup to cover their entire face and neck, until you can't see their skin at all. they usually draw thwir features with red or black, their costumes are the most extra and where most people's idea of clown suits come from.

they're SO chain, omega and mountain coded.

The Auguste/Red Clown

technically were never described as clowns, more like doing comic acts, they're the ones who get pies in the face, sprayed with water, knocked down on their asses, and more. the bsse to their makeup is red or flesh tone. the eyes and the mouth are in white and the features are drawn in red and black, usually costumed in baggy plaids with colourful polka dots or stripes. usually the ones with the colourful wigs, big shoes, round noses and boat wide shirts.

swiss, sunshine and ifrit. you can't and won't convince me otherwise.

The Character Clown

the character clown adopts a character of some type, like a baker, a policeman, a housewife and such. the character clown makeup is a comic take on the standard human face. their makeup starts with a flesh tone base and sometimes they use accessories from glasses, mustaches and beards to freckles, warts, big ears or strange haircuts. when preforming with the other ywo traditional clowns the character clown will be a second, less wild auguste.

they're soooo zephyr, delta, cumulus, phantom.

JESTERS

The Wandering Fools

wandering comics and actors who often also called minstrels, jongleurs, storytellers or troubadours and had a slightly different role to what the traditional image of a jester, they didn’t possess the grace or privileges like the royal court jesters and were definitely a long way from the role of a wise fool. unlike the other types of jesters, those were the most happy.

alpha, dew, pebble and aurora

Official Jesters

like the royal jesters, these professional fools were employed by a wealthy or notable figure who used their skills to entertain at parties and events. these licensed fools were often quick witted and spoke their minds freely, but despite that were usually never happy themselves.

but they were so much more than just silly jesters, there are records of them being sent on tasks such as running messages to other households, giving them insight into state affairs and gossip. and during wars, they were also used to send messages to the enemy and even entertain the troops. sometimes they were the deliverers of bad news.

you can't tell me that that's not mist and ivy.

The Royal Court Jester

the royal court jester was a figure employed by the reigning king or queen and was especially popular in the english court. The european jester was hired as entertainment for the nobles of the court and ensured that every party or dinner was a memorable affair, also known as the "sad clown" who laughs on the outside, but is secretly melancholic due to a grievance or a depressed state of mind.

cirrus. and aether.

MIMES

Literal Mime

they tell a story, usually humorous, in such a way that the audience knows exactly how to interpret the plot.

crust and river

Abstract Mime

they attempt to call up feelings and thoughts, usually of a serious nature, from the audience. gestures may be ambiguous and dramatic. for example, the mime may portray the locking of a door to symbolize a loss of opportunity.

rain. aero too.

[miasmaghoul]

Take Your Licks

Rating: E

Pairing: Swiss/Rain

Word Count: ~3.4k

Contains: stoned ghouls, Rain's hardcore oral fixation, lots of tongue kissin', oral, first time rimming, Rain being a pillow princess and Swiss being just fine with that

Summary: Swiss has something new in mind, and Rain isn't sure how to feel about it. He figures it out quick.

A little somethin' for our beloved @endopyre, whose ghoul designs give me heart eyes. Happy birth(yester)day Endo, I hope you like it!

On a chilly fall night, there's nowhere Rain would rather be than right here.

Kicked back on the couch with a belly full of Mountain's spiced cider, his head resting on Swiss's lap while wind rattles the ancient windows and the tv drones on. Everyone else has gone to bed, it's long past midnight, but Rain doesn't feel inclined to retire quite yet. Not while Swiss is massaging his scalp with one hand and feeding him the end of a joint with the other.

They'll get there eventually, though - he can feel Swiss's bulge slowly growing against the back of his neck. Rain chuckles as best he can with the press of Swiss's fingers against his lips, and the other ghoul shoots him a comfortably stoned grin.

"Feelin' good, starfish?" Rain hums through his exhale, offering his own dopey smile as Swiss chases his smoke, biting the air.

"Not as good as you, apparently," Rain teases, the slightest bit slurred. The seated ghoul raises an eyebrow and Rain turns his head, nuzzling his cheek against Swiss's zipper with a pointed look. Swiss snorts, gives a rude roll of his hips, and Rain purrs.

"Listen to you," Swiss coos, ruffling Rain's hair and dropping the burnt end of the joint into his empty water glass. "So noisy over my cock and I haven't even given it to you yet." Rain replies with a nip to the fabric of his fly and Swiss gives him a wink. "When did you become such a slut, huh?"

Rain chitters low in his throat, a pleased sound. His own semi twitches against the seam of his sweatpants, but the dark fabric hides the movement.

"'s that a complaint?" He drags his tongue over the place Swiss's shaft sits, saliva darkening the denim, and Swiss tilts his head.

"Nah," he says, dragging callused fingers along the pointed shell of Rain's ear. "Just surprised it happened so quick."

Honestly, so is Rain. It's only been about six weeks since his summoning, but he's certainly made the rounds.

Aether had been his first, an accidental thing borne of extreme need; a reaction to a full moon that had risen a mere six nights after his arrival on Earth. It had worked him into a frenzy, body and mind stuck at fever pitch, and Aether had been the first one at his door. An encounter filled with overwhelm, fear and a lack of control Rain truly couldn't wrap his head around.

He'd barely had a chance to explore this new body on his own, let alone with someone else while in the throes of the moon's influence. Aether had been as kind and gentle as he could, but Rain couldn't help his panicked reactions. He'd spent hours in Aether's arms once the gnawing need in his guts had dissipated, sobbing into his chest and shaking like a leaf while the other ghoul soothed him.

Something about it, though, had been intoxicating. Once the mental stress had settled, a new ache had flooded his body. Something deep and insistent, focused between his thighs, and the next morning he'd woken Aether up demanding they do it all over again.

He's given everyone a test drive since then, so to speak. They all have their plusses and minuses, their pros and cons.

Save for Swiss.

There's something to be said for every part of Swiss.

The shine of his golden eyes. The strong, angular cut of his jaw and the scratchy salt-and-pepper of his short beard. The breadth of his back and shoulders. The muscular but soft plane of his chest and stomach, all dusted in a delightful layer of very grabbable hair. The sheer size of his hands, of his fingers, and the expert way they move. The curve of his ass, the thickness of his thighs. The way his fat cock hangs between them, the way it flushes so dark when it gets hard.

All of Swiss is immaculate, really. But as far as Rain is concerned, nothing beats his mouth.

(Seriously, it's ranked number one in his little black notebook. The one that lives in his nightstand, right alongside the lube and a handful of vanilla flavored condoms. They're Dew's favorite.)

Rain stares at it while he laves at rough denim, at the plushness of Swiss's lower lip and the way his mouth curls up at the corner. It's open just enough that Rain catches glimpses of fang every few breaths. (Those are nice too, wonderful when dragged over his pulse point and sunk into the meat of his thighs.) Swiss's tongue pokes between them every now and again while Rain laps at his rapidly thickening length, and every time Rain spies that flash of pink his rhythm falters.

Swiss, ever observant, doesn't miss it.

Rain's eyes track every bit of the way Swiss drags his tongue along his bottom lip, entranced by the shine it leaves behind. It's like he's moving in slow motion, dragging it out, but maybe that's just the weed. Impossible to say. Either way, Rain's own tongue has gone useless in his mouth, lolling out the side of his mouth. He's drooling onto Swiss's crotch, but neither of them seem to care.

"You're staring," Swiss murmurs, gently flicking Rain's ear. "'s my tongue really that interesting?"

He knows the answer, but a reminder never hurts.

"Uh huh," he gurgles, pulling back his own tongue and unsubtly palming himself through his sweats. Swiss doesn't miss that either, and Rain shivers a bit at the way his lids go visibly heavier. "Since I know what it can do."

Swiss grins with all his teeth, his eyes flash with mischief, and Rain's stomach does an anticipatory flip.

"Speaking of," Swiss rumbles, relaxing back into the couch, "there's a certain tongue-related activity I've had in mind for you for a while now." A large hand comes to rest on his stomach and Rain groans when it slips beneath his t-shirt, warm against his skin. "You up for somethin' new, tadpole?"

Rain's head feels delightfully hollow. He isn't sure he's heard half of Swiss's words, the pressure behind his eyes stealing his focus, but the drag of rough fingertips along his waistband helps to ground him. His eyes follow Swiss's tongue once again, currently swiping over his fangs.

"Mmm," he hums with a nod, "sure, but can we do something I want first?"

"What would that be?"

"Gimme that fuckin' tongue," Rain demands, reaching up to grab the other ghoul by the back of the neck. Swiss's smile widens, and he doesn't fight when Rain drags him into a lazy, filthy kiss.

He refuses to let Swiss's tongue leave his mouth - licking at it, sucking it, giving it sharp little nips that tinge the kiss with copper. Distantly, Rain feels himself being moved, lifted, but he really can't be bothered to open his eyes and see what's happening. He's far too busy trying to eat Swiss alive.

"Easy," Swiss pants, voice thick, "let a guy breathe, we don't all have gills."

Rain chirps, burying his face in Swiss's throat instead. The spell of his tongue seems to be breakable by lack of sight and contact, and Rain comes back to himself enough to realize he's being carried. His arms slung over broad shoulders, long legs around narrow hips, Swiss strides down the hall towards his room. Rain feels his cheeks heat. He must have been really out of it to let someone carry him this far without realizing it.

"Let me down," he mumbles, lips rasping against Swiss's stubble. "I can walk, you don't -"

Swiss shushes him, kisses his horn.

"Nah," he sounds so pleased, "you're indulgin' me, I can let you play princess tonight."

Swiss's hands squeeze his ass and Rain's cock throbs, trapped between their stomachs. He gives his hips a wriggle, chasing stimulation, and Swiss gives one of his cheeks a slap instead.

"Stay still," he says, firm. A tone Rain rarely hears, but goes straight to his balls every time. He repeats his little grind anyway, and his reward is Swiss grunting and getting a solid grip on his slender waist. "Rain," he rumbles, and Rain's head swims, "patience. I don't want to trip and fall on top of you."

"m sorry," Rain mumbles, not sorry at all, "can't help it. You feel so nice." He rocks again and Swiss sighs.

"Look at me, Rain."

It's an order, and Rain thinks they won't get very far tonight if Swiss keeps sounding so authoritative. It's doing funny things to places he's still learning about, and he can feel where his dick has started to get his pants wet. Still, though, he meets Swiss's piercing gaze. The sparkle there betrays his calm demeanor. He opens his mouth and Rain immediately zeroes in again.

"Stay."

So much fang.

"Still."

So much tongue.

Rain's jaw drops and Swiss catches him in a wet, nasty kiss that serves to switch Rain's brain right off. All that matters is Swiss invading his mouth, the warmth of it sensual in the best way. He tastes like weed, like cider, like whisky and black pepper, and Rain has the sudden desire to taste nothing else ever again. Nothing but Swiss.

He doesn't come back to himself so easily this time, not even when Swiss pulls away for air. The other ghouls makes sure their tongues stay in contact always, and something in Rain's chest burns with it. But soon enough their lips meet again and Rain loses it all again, content to float in a space not quite anywhere. The breaks start to get longer, but Rain only notices in the most cursory way.

He doesn't come back in any meaningful way until Swiss's mouth disappears from his for minutes, and as the cobwebs filling his skull begin to fall away several things become apparent.

One, he's on a bed. Whose bed? Swiss's probably. It smells more like him. Either way, not important.

Two, he's naked as the day he was summoned. On his back, blinking at a dimly lit ceiling. He moves his legs only to realize they're folded, his feet planted on the mattress an his thighs spread. He can't get them to close, something's in the way. Which brings him to,

Three, there is something warm and wet and the juncture of his hip and thigh. Sucking pressure, it makes his bones vibrate. There are whiny, feminine sounds bouncing off the walls. Are they coming from him? Rain shakes his head in an effort to return to his body, managing at length to lift his head. It still takes a moment for him to focus enough to make out Swiss's prone form.

He's between Rain's newly marked thighs, shoulders pinning them open while he mouths at a twitching muscle in Rain's groin. There are bites all over - his chest, his thighs, his hips - in a dozen shades of purple, and he doesn't remember getting a single one. Fuck, how out of it was he? The thought makes his cock throb so hard he grunts, and Rain watches the blurt of pre it spits join a not-small puddle on his belly.

"So whaddaya say, sweetheart," Swiss sounds like he's far away, but the words feel familiar. Like this isn't the first time he's heard them. "You ready for somethin' new?"

"Yeah," Rain rasps, and his own voice surprises him. "Show me." It feels like he's been talking for a while, his throat feels sore, but he can't recall. What has he agreed to? Swiss purrs, low and lustful, and Rain thinks it may be the best sound he's ever heard.

"Good boy," he murmurs, licking his lips. That fucking tongue again. Rain blinks away the encroaching haze, forces himself to at least try to pay attention. Swiss shifts enough to get those large fingers on his thighs, patting them. "Gonna open you up now, okay?"

Rain blinks, nods without really meaning to, and Swiss gives him another wink. Before he knows what's happening those hands are at the backs of his knees, and Rain gasps when his legs are pushed apart and up towards his chest. It shocks something in him, and snippets of conversation come with it.

"You want to what?"

"Lick you out," Swiss's phantom voice echoes through his memory. "Get the tongue you're so obsessed with on you and make you sing real sweet."

Rain wonders if his stomach swooped like this the first time they had that exchange. The memory perks him up enough to catch his breath, caged by his own legs and Swiss's strong arms. Swiss gazes at him past the flushed, slick length of his cock, bobbing rigid over the flat plane of his stomach, and Rain flinches when he feels warm air ghost over his very exposed hole.

"You're so pink here," Swiss coos, "Pink and wet. All for me? I think it is." He shimmies down the bed - if Rain were able to focus on anything, he wouldn't have missed Swiss grinding into the mattress along the way - placing a wet kiss on each of Rain's balls along the way. Each one has him gasping, but the more he remembers about the things he's forgotten tonight, the clearer his head gets.

"You're gonna lick me...there?"

"Only if you want me to," Swiss had said with a shrug. Casual. "Think you'll really like it."

"Does it go...like..." Rain had made a middle school gesture, one finger stuck through a ring of two others. "In...inside?"

The sudden flash of a fox-like grin has Rain's eyelids fluttering, even just as a memory.

"Only if you ask very nicely."

The press of warm lips against his taint snaps him back to the present.

"S-Swiss," Rain hisses, grabbing on instinct for his wagging cock, achy and purpled. "W-wait, wait -"

The words are little more than a whisper, and Rain is somehow completely unprepared for the hot slide of that tongue over his slick, twitching hole.

Rain gasps, loud and shocked, as Swiss licks up to his balls and back again, pausing to circle that tight pucker. The feel of it is singular, electric jolts up his spine and deep in his pelvis. Every slow, wicked pass of that rough tongue rips utterly involuntary sounds from his throat. Quicker than he can make sense of, the hesitance and reluctance simmering at the back of his mind evaporate.

"Fuck."

It's good.

"Oh, fuck."

It's...it's so good.

He's being so loud all of a sudden. He knows it, his own yelps and whines echo around him, broken up only by the filthy sound of Swiss licking at him with what can only be called perverse reverence. Their eyes remain locked through it all, hazy cerulean with sparkling gold. Swiss looks amused, the corners of his eyes crinkles and his lips curved. Maybe more smug than amused, but Rain doesn't really care right now.

"Like it?" Swiss asks, his voice low and dark.

"Uh huh," Rain nods, breathless. He moves his leg and - oh, when had he started holding them? Had Swiss asked? "Keep going, please keep - oh."

It's faster now, just a little, but rougher too. Swiss punctuates his licks with full, messy kisses right on his hole. Every one has Rain's cock kicking and pouring pre, his skin slick and shiny with it. He can't look at it any longer, has to let his head thump back against the mattress so he can loose the deeply pained groan caught between his lungs.

"Knew you would," Swiss breathes, dragging careful fingertips along quivering thighs. He brushes soft knuckles over Rain's tight sack, and it draws all of Rain's attention back to the righteous ache between his legs.

"Fuck, touch me," he spits between grit teeth, drowning in the way Swiss worships him. His cock pulses in time with his racing heart, sways in the air. "Please, please touch it Swiss, please - fuck!"

Rain's tight pleas melt into high, hurt cries when Swiss does just what he asked. Wraps a large hand around Rain's straining shaft, grips it at the bottom and gives it a nice shake.

Swiss gives him a single stroke, a firm lick, and Rain's eyes roll back in his skull.

"Oh fuck," he gasps, "oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck -"

He's chanting it, a pained mantra pouring from between kiss swollen lips as though he can't believe any of this. He's sweaty at his hairline, and the more Swiss works him the more he shakes. He laps away like a thirsty dog, milking pre and slick and pleasure from him with each swipe. He twists his wrist just so, rubs his thumb over the frenulum, and Rain's whole being goes tense.

"Oh fuck," he squeaks, tight and almost panicky. He knows Swiss can feel the way he gets harder between his fingers, his abdomen going taut and his back bowing off the bed.

Swiss nudges at his pucker, twists his wrist, and it spells Rain's end.

He cums with a stuttering, breathy groan, spilling hot and heavy over his own chest and belly, coating his marked skin with stripes of pearly white. Swiss tugs him through the whole thing, milks him with short strokes and soft licks.

Rain barely feels any of it, at least at first. His mind has gone to soup, liquidized and useless, lost to pleasure and overwhelm. He doesn't feel it until he really feels it, sudden overstimulation that has hip dropping his shaking legs and grabbing for Swiss's horns, his hair, anything.

Swiss pulls back on his own, though. Releases Rain's slowly softening cock and presses soothing kisses to his thigh. Swiss smiles up at him, deceptively sweet.

"So, whaddaya think?"

Rain wants to tell him several things. Wants to say how good it was, but how overwhelming. So much pleasure being derived from an act he had never considered until maybe twenty minutes ago. One he had nearly panicked over when realization hit. He still has no idea how much time he lost when he was hypnotized by Swiss's tongue.

He wants to, but then Swiss licks his lips. He licks his lips and Rain notices that he's wet from nose to chin. It's a sight he's only been privy to on the few occasions they've shared Dew; Swiss always insists on burying as much of his face in the little ghoul's cunt as he can, until he's drenched and sated.

To see the same look on his face, the same wetness, just from licking him...it's enough to have Rain's body buzzing all over again.

"Again," he slurs, tucking his hands behind his thighs and folding himself. Exposing himself. "Do...do that again."

Swiss gives him a cheshire grin, nods, and for some reason Rain's fried brain has trouble processing why Swiss is hovering higher instead of slipping back down. Why he's moving to run that impossibly perfect tongue over his still-twitching abdomen. He doesn't quite manage to put it together, though.

So imagine his surprise when Swiss ducks between his cheeks, spits Rain's own mess onto his already slippery hole and dives in for seconds.

"Swiss," he chokes out, once his own stunned shout fades from his ears, "I - I want -" Rain's chest heaves, the attention being paid to his most sensitive spot hurtling him straight back into the realm of overstimulation. "Need...need - fuck!"

Swiss stares up at him, gaze heavy with pleasure, and Rain's soft cock gives a valiant twitch. He swallows hard, clenches around nothing, and forces the words to come.

"Stick it in," he demands, breathy. "Gimme your tongue. Put it - Lucifer - push it in and...and fuck me with it."

The last words are breathless and whiny, and Swiss huffs out a laugh. It blows cool against his heated rim, and Swiss pulls back just enough for Rain to catch sight of his tongue.

"Whatever you want, baby."

Rain's tired eyes go wide as he watches Swiss's tongue bifurcate and extend, the other ghoul dropping the slightest hint of his glamour. Goosebumps rocket up all over his trembling body, that flexible appendage slips inside his winking hole, and Rain keens.

It's going to be a long night.

[riconas]

If you feel like writing anything with Swiss while on the plane 👀👀👀 that would be neat 👀👀👀 I'm not picky on pairing

ok swiss alps rimming lets goooooo

“I wanna eat you out,” Swiss announces.

“Oh,” Mountain says, surprised. He turns his head to look at Swiss, tail flicking nervously. “I’ve never—done that. Before.”

Swiss squeezes his waist, earnest. “Really?” 

“Yeah. Never had the chance.” 

Swiss smiles brightly. “You wanna? It’ll feel good.” 

Mountain does want. Everything feels good when it comes to Swiss, and he isn’t going to turn down a chance to have his ass eaten. It unfortunately doesn’t change the fact that he really has never done this before—never been on the receiving end, always more than happy to give—and he doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of Swiss. Not that there’s much to be embarrassed about, but still. 

“Okay,” Mountain says, not bothering to hide the way his voice shakes a little. “Do you want… like this? Should I move to make it easier, or—”

“Flip over,” Swiss tells him, patting his ass. “Wanna see your face when I lick you.”

Mountain swallows his groan and rolls awkwardly onto his back, avoiding eye contact as much as possible. His cheeks are on fire. He feels so exposed, and even though Swiss has seen him naked plenty of times before, he feels the urge to hide. It’s different, somehow. More vulnerable. 

“You okay?” Swiss asks, rubbing his thigh affectionately. “Why that face?”

“Nervous,” Mountain admits.

Swiss smiles. “Don't be. Nothing to be nervous about.”

Plenty to be nervous about, actually, but Mountain doesn’t say that. No need to ruin the mood. He lies back on the pillows, buzzing with anticipation, and shuffles up obediently when Swiss slides a pillow under his hips. It’s no big deal! He’s done this plenty of times. Can’t be that much different being on the other side, can it? 

“May I?” Swiss asks.

Mountain nods. “Go ahead.”

He feels Swiss’s tongue first, warm and wet and strangely soft, and can’t help but fist his hands in Swiss’s coarse hair, fighting the urge to yank. It’s… different. Not unpleasant, but unfamiliar, way out of his comfort zone. He doesn’t know how to react, whether to grind, whether to beg for more. 

“Oh,” he gasps, as Swiss dips one finger in, then two, then scissors them apart and pushes his tongue in between them. “Oh, Satanas.” 

He can feel Swiss’s stubble rubbing up against his sensitive skin, rough and prickly. Maybe he’ll have beard burn there, be red and raw when he goes to clean up later. Maybe he’ll feel it for another day or two. 

“Taste fucking incredible,” Swiss murmurs, and the vibrations nearly drive Mountain right out of his fucking mind. He moans, toes curling so hard his thighs begin to shake, and tightens his grip on Swiss’s hair. He hopes he isn’t pulling too hard. 

Then Swiss’s fingers are gone and it’s just his tongue left, fucking in and out of Mountain’s hole, making noises so obscene it makes Mountain’s stomach hurt. It’s so little and so much, all at the same time. He needs more. He can’t take it. He’s probably making all kinds of ridiculous expressions, so out of tune with his body, while Swiss sucks at his rim like he’ll never eat ass again. 

“Hold your legs up,” Swiss encourages, both hands holding Mountain open, stretching him tight. “Spread those cheeks for me. Show me that pretty hole,” and Mountain whines so plaintively he shocks himself into silence. Absolutely insane, the things Swiss does to him, the way Swiss makes him feel. 

He’ll have to repay the favour another time. Get Swiss all spread out across his bed, fold him in half like the gentleman he is and eat him out until he’s sobbing. Got to even the score, after all. 

“Are you—” Swiss licks a long, broad stripe, pressing delicately into his taint, and Mountain’s eyes roll back in his head. “Oh, are you enjoying this? Licking my—hole?”

Swiss laughs. “Enjoying this? Sweetheart, I’m having the time of my life.”

Mountain closes his eyes. It’s a losing battle. Whatever he says, Swiss will manage somehow to top it with some dreadfully horny response. 

“Are you really getting off on this?”

No hesitation. “Yes.” 

Mountain shudders. “Am I allowed to… cum, like this?”

“Can you?” Swiss asks, sounding genuinely curious. 

“I don’t know,” Mountain admits. 

“Can you try?”

“Yeah,” and Mountain holds his legs tighter, forces his hips up as far as they’ll go. Weakly, he says, “All yours.” And then: “You can spit on it.”

Swiss’s grin turns predatory. “You nasty,” he says, sounding so indescribably proud. “Spit on it, huh?” He slaps Mountain right there, the noise ringing out so slick, so dirty. “Sure thing, princess. If that’s what you want.” 

[octuscle]

I like to be a fighter from Albania, Serbia or another country like these: good looking, strong and proud and producing at least 12 sons as little fighters too. Dream or reality? you choose, chronivac

Strange wish for a 45-year-old administrative employee at Swiss Post. This is not exactly the place for fighters…

When you finish work, your body feels exhausted. Not like after a physically strenuous day… More like after hard work. Or after a visit to the gym. Not that you've ever been to a gym… Or ever worked hard physically… It's a strange feeling. And it doesn't go away when you enjoy the end of the day with a beer in front of the TV as usual. Actually, you should have been watching a thriller right now. But you're watching the Serbian soccer league. One hand on the beer bottle. One always on your cock and your balls…

Something is different the next morning… You have a lot more beard than usual. Looks good. Why do you always go to the office clean-shaven? You trim the beard a little. Feels very normal. Where's your deodorant? Never mind, I'll have to go without it today… You grab your briefcase, pack your breakfast sandwich and set off for work on your bike. You sit down at your desk. You start working on files. You have trouble sitting still. Shit, you need to move! During your lunch break, you go to the Balkan grill. And you don't realize that you're talking in Serbian to the other men who are taking their break standing up. After your lunch break, you make your rounds through the building. Your job at the in-house post office is not particularly demanding. But you can't imagine working at a desk. You need to get moving. That's why you can't wait to go to the gym after work. Get your muscles burning first. And then train your skills as a street fighter in the ring.

It's a long streetcar ride to the council housing estate on the outskirts of the city. It's one of the first warm evenings. A few of your neighbors are sitting with a beer at the playground in front of one of the run-down apartment blocks. You join them. You don't feel like going back to the small apartment you share with your siblings.

You share your room with two of your brothers. They both work on the assembly line and are on the late shift this week. You try not to wake anyone when you get up at 4:30 am. The garbage collection job is hard work, but it pays well. You can save a lot of money so that you can soon afford your own little house in Belgrade. Zurich is a good city to earn money. But not to live here.

You are a man's household. You can see that. Your bathroom is pretty filthy. Well, you don't really hit the toilet bowl yourself when you piss. Apart from that, just a bit of washing up. What's the point of more? You'll start sweating faster than you'd like.

Most of the guys who work with you are from the Balkans. Many from Croatia and Bosnia. Their parents often fled from your parents during the civil war. But you don't give a damn. The Balkans are the Balkans. In a foreign country with the snooty Swiss, that welds you together. You are a close-knit community. A community of real men. Not wimps like the locals. You are brothers. You have more brothers than the six men you share the apartment with. And you all meet up at the gym in the evenings. The only place where you spend a few of your hard-earned Swiss francs. The rest is saved for a better future.

There is no better place than the gym. Hard training, hard fights, hard sex. Yes, sometimes you also have to bang a woman. So as not to get out of practice. And Swiss whores are easy to come by. You're all real guys who look and smell like men. The whores don't find anything like that among their fellow countrymen. But it's even better if one of your compatriots or an inferior Christian from the Balkans loses to you in a boxing match. The loser gets fucked. And you fuck a lot!

[whatsaninterestingplacethisis]

Clingy

Imagine

Nico Hischier x Latina!Reader

Synop: Nico comes home after rough practice, all he wants is to do is never leave your side, literally

a/n: great amount of cheese 🧀 (fluff) + moody Nico + it kills me to use pet-names but it seems fitting for the story + Google translate for German (also I’m aware Swiss german is different but to make translations easier we are going to disregard the inaccuracies)

This one makes me cringe but maybe people will like it

+++

Y/n was almost done with dinner, just in time as Nico gets home. His hockey bag makes a loud thump as it hits the ground.

“Nico is that you?” Y/n asked but it was obvious that it was her man.

He didn’t answer, in fact he would always announce his presence but he was silent. He walks around the corner to enter the kitchen. He eyes his girl and shuffles over to wrap his arms around her waist and hug her.

“Hi” he mumbles into her neck.

“Hi baby” she smiles, Nico being affectionate was to die for, every time.

“Dinner will be done soon.”

“I’m not hungry.” He mumbles again.

“Really? What did you eat?”

He didn’t say anything and buried his head more into her neck.

“Right, that’s what I thought” she laughs

“Cmon baby, I have to finish here and if you shower now the food will be ready.” His beard tickling her neck made her shift under his touch.

He groaned if not whined, “what if you join me in the shower?” He picked his up and looked over her with a smirk.

“Nico, I’m busy and hungry so no.” She stated.

His grip went limp and a dramatic sigh was to be heard.

“I guess you don’t love me.” he slowly shuffles out of the kitchen. He was obviously joking but being a big baby.

Y/n snaps her head at the man child, “is there something wrong?”

He just shrugs with his hands in his hoodie’s pockets.

Y/n examines her boyfriend in concern but also thinks ‘is he serious?’ She turns the burner to low and walks to her man and wraps her arms around his waist and looks up to him.

“How was practice?” She asks softly, examining his eyes.

“I played like shit.” He said defeated with his eyes closed

“Neeks it’s only practice. You know you get better every time you practice.” Y/n tried to comfort the tall man.

“I guess.” He leans down to fully hug y/n because he much craved for it.

She hums in his warmth,

“Baby you’ll feel a lot better if you take a hot shower and have a plate of hot food waiting for you.”

“I only want you right now.”

Gosh he was making this hard. Y/n pulled away to look at him and pulled his back in for a slow kiss.

“I’ll be here after your shower and after you eat.”

“More kisses after too?”

“Always.”

He goes in for what was meant to be a chaste kiss but slowly turns into a quick make out.

“Okay! Go shower, you’re going to burn the food!”

He giggles and finally heads to the bathroom.

~~~

Like promised y/n had his and hers plate ready in no time. She sat in her seat, scrolling on her phone waiting for Nico to join her. Nico with damp hair stepped out the bedroom and promptly sat next to her. He leans over to kiss her,

“Thank you baby”

Before he starts digging in he notices his love’s seat a bit too far away for his liking and with ease slides her chair over closer to him.

“Wow.” She says and he just grins at her like a big goof. Soon enough they fill their bellies with deliciousness.

“Okay now let’s cuddle.” He demands as he picks y/n up and they plop onto the couch.

She shrieks, “Nico we still have to clean up!”

“Nuh-uh, that can wait and you promised.”

Nico is usually the big spoon / the one being snuggled into but he needed the affection tonight so he snuggled into y/n torso and placed her hand on his head to play with his hair. Something he always loved.

“Ich liebe dich.” he says against her body. She recognizes the German because he says it all the time.

“Te amo querido.” He smiles because she says it all the time too.

[mrdirtybear]

The image above is a lithograph/poster for an exhibition of Swiss artists in Wiesbaden, one of the oldest spa towns in Germany, in 1913. If you went then, then you bathe in luxury and detachment between viewing the works of art.