#notsfw

And Robby always indulged him without complaint. He knew the man liked it, being watched or seen or both. He’d jerked off right next to Dennis enough times either in bed or on his couch for him to know, his voyeurism knowing no bounds and Dennis kinda loved it. It was something he hadn’t expected himself to be into — watching Robby’s large hand wrap around himself, stroking base to tip, watching Dennis watch him. It was filthy, really. It made him hot all over to see it.

But, the pictures. Robby would pull his dick out whenever Dennis wanted him to, hard or soft, and take a picture of it. Dennis didn’t dare save them, knowing Trinity had a habit of borrowing his phone to google random things whenever they were talking or watching tv and she needed to fact check something or wanted to send a photo to herself.

He would never live it down.

So, he’d admire the picture and blush and want and then he’d delete it from their text thread. No harm done.

Robby didn’t even ask for him to reciprocate, but Dennis had a feeling that maybe Robby wished he would.

Which is where he’s at now, in his bed, hard in his boxers, with his conversation with Robby open on his phone just after midnight. There’s a picture of Robby’s heavy cock just sent to him, along with a voice note telling him exactly what Robby wants to do to him tomorrow, and he’s throbbing in his own hand, the tip of his dick sticky with pre.

He decides that tonight he’ll do it. He’ll send Robby a picture.

He keeps the salt lamp he thrifted on, casting a soft orange glow beside him. He’s got himself in his hand, the camera tucked near his chin, angled down, his sleep shirt pulled up.

And he feels stupid.

It doesn’t look good, like Robby’s. Almost comical. Like every other dude on Grindr before he’d deleted the app, a day after he and Robby went on their first real date.

Huffing, he sets his phone down and pulls his shorts up, ready to give up, but it slips from his fingers and the band snaps down, pinning his cock to his lower belly with a soft sound.

It makes him tense and hiss a little in pain and a bit of pleasure, glancing down at himself — and pausing.

Despite his frustration and embarrassment, he kinda likes the way the wet tip of his cock is tucked under the waistband of his boxers, peeking out. It’s not super obvious, more of a tease — and that’s when he picks his phone up again.

He pushes the bottom of his shirt down a little, letting a strip of pale skin of his abdomen show, rubbing a fingertip against the underside of his tip to push a little more pre out before he’s angling his camera.

In the quiet of his room, his camera silently clicks, and then he’s sending it off.

He bites his lip as he waits, his stomach twisting. Will Robby like it? Will he be underwhelmed? Maybe he’ll want more, and that thought is just a little overwhelming but kinda in a good way, makes his stomach twist in arousal—

His phone buzzes, Robby text back.

Dennis’ stomach twists again as he sees the voice note, his thumb hovering over the ‘play’ button for a second before he presses it.

Robby’s voice is low, how it always goes whenever he’s got Dennis in his bed, and he’s a little breathless as he speaks over the sound of what is probably the wet sound of lube on his cock, “Fuck, baby, you’re driving me crazy…” Robby groans softly, “You take that pretty picture just for me, hm? You almost got me licking my phone,” he chuckles quietly, breathless still, although he moans again, “Makes me wanna go over there and pull those shorts down, get my mouth on you and suck that pretty cock until you’re begging me to let you cum down my throat…”

There’s a pause, the wet sound of Robby’s fist speeding up, and Dennis’ mouth is dry.

Robby continues, “Be a good boy and let me hear you cum, yeah? Wanna hear you say my name when you do…” he sighs, like he’s trying to hold off his own pleasure, and then the voice note is over and it makes Dennis squirm.

He’s done it before, many times, but he feels bolder now — with Robby’s enthusiastic response to his picture.

So, he opens his camera again, but puts it from photo to video and presses ‘record’.

He feels his pulse racing in his neck as he records himself, his free hand trailing a fingertip down his chest and stomach, moaning quietly as he thumbs at the wet tip of his dick still peaking out of his shorts, pulling it away just enough for Robby to see the little clear string of pre before he’s rubbing against the slit with another soft sound.

“Wanna cum like this,” he breathes, his eyelids flickering with pleasure as he watches his hand through his camera, his fingers stroking along his shaft over the fabric of the shorts, his thumb still rubbing little circles on the tip, feeling himself getting so worked up already as he quietly whines, “Want your hands on me, wish you were here, want your mouth, sir, please…”

He feels pent up, suddenly. There’s something about the entire thing that’s bringing him to the edge much quicker, like he can’t wait to see Robby’s response to this, making him impatient.

“Fuck, I wanna cum,” he whines, his brows pinching and jaw dropping as he taps at the wet tip with his thumb, so sensitive now, his breath punching out of him at the same time, his body tensing and tensing as he watches himself, feeling his balls draw up as he keens, “Robby, Robby—fuck—”

His hips twitch up as he pulls his hand away, his breath coming out in ragged little pants as he watches himself cum all over his stomach and shirt, his torso quivering as he rides the waves of pleasure washing over him.

And because he knows it drives Robby crazy, and he’s a little high from it all, he lazily draws his fingertips across his belly, through his cum, and offers it to the camera with a quiet almost-giggle before he stops recording. If Robby were here, he’d suck his fingers clean before tonguing over his stomach.

Before he gets too self-conscious, he sends it, biting the inside of his cheek as he clicks his phone shut and waits.

He wipes his mess with his shirt and tosses it in the direction of his laundry basket, knowing he’ll have to do it tomorrow before Trinity gets home.

And then his phone is buzzing again, although this time Robby’s calling him.

His stomach twists as he answers it, holding it up to his ear with a quiet, “Hi…”

“Baby, I don’t think I’ve ever cum as hard as I did just now,” Robby hums, his voice tinged with amusement and sleepiness. He always gets tired afterward, something Dennis teases him about sometimes.

The admission makes him smile, though, shyly asking, “Yeah? You liked it?”

“Loved it, actually,” Robby chuckles in disbelief, “Hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I didn’t even stand a chance, didn’t get a picture or anything, just…came all over my hand.”

He swears he’s floating from how pleased he is, grinning to himself as he holds his phone to his ear, “I was actually nervous as hell, y’know.”

Robby huffs at that, in fond disbelief, “Fooled me.”

“Yeah, well…you like to make me realize things about myself,” Dennis mutters, his grin softened into a smile.

“Things like you enjoy touching yourself and sending it to me as a video?” Robby chuckles.

“Yeah, ‘cause I know you’re a perverted old man,” Dennis teases, his voice soft, knowing how that affects Robby.

It works like a charm; Robby groans, like he does whenever Dennis cups him through his scrubs after work, and tells him, “Enough, this old man is spent. Tell me goodnight.”

It makes Dennis grin again, saying sweetly, “Goodnight, sir.”

“Oh, you’re gonna get it tomorrow,” Robby promises lowly, sending an excited thrill through Dennis before he’s humming, “Goodnight, baby. Dream of me.”

“Always do,” he responds quietly with a tired smile before the call is over, wishing he could fall asleep curled up against Robby’s side but he knows he can tomorrow.

“That’s different.”

“It isn’t,” Xavier mutters into your skin, pressing another light kiss.

“It is.”

“So, you're resolute about that position?” he questions “innocently”. There’s something mischievous about the glint in those arctic eyes, which makes your face warm. You find yourself breaking eye contact, or else you’d lose it.

“Yes.”

Xavier chuckles then begins to lead his kisses down your arm. “In that case, care to explain the difference in detail, love?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Sleep.”

“But—”

“Sleep.”

Zayne narrows his eyes at you from his side of the bed. You can’t blame him for being a little annoyed right now but the movie you put on to fall asleep was much better than you expected; and instead of falling asleep, you were more awake than ever at a very late one in the morning.

“I’m almost done with the movie,” you tell him, hoping he’ll cut you a little slack this one time.

“Everyone dies at the end of their own stupidity,” he bluntly states and grabs the remote. The television turns off with an overly loud click, and you pout. “Now, sleep.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you huff. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m fine with that title if it gets you to rest,” he explains with a smooth yawn. “Poor sleep habits lead to bad decision-making later. You’re more likely to develop high blood pressure, and with your heart in particular—”

“I get it. I get it,” you say, wanting to be spared the lecture. Zayne is a good person and a better doctor, but you wish he didn’t worry about you so much just because you might have a little big heart problem. Sighing, you squiggle onto your back and pull the sheets up to your collar, kicking them a little childishly in the process (totally not to let him know that you were not pleased with his spoiling). “I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

“Very.”

Zayne turns over onto his side, away from you, and you frown at the loneliness. Softly, you poke him in the back, once, then twice then a third time before you finally get a hum in response.

“Am I really not getting a good night kiss?”

“Do you need one to sleep?” he asks, his voice deeper from the lack of sleep, urging you to convince him to kiss you even more.

“Duh,” you explain. Slowly, he turns back over to look at you, propping himself up on one arm with a look that says “Is that so” as you continue to ramble. It makes you a little flustered when he watches you so intently. He’s always had this silent dominance that makes you obedient, but you could get what you want from him just as easily with the exact opposite strategy. Cutely, you puff your bottom lip out at him. “There has to be some health benefit to it. Kissing makes people all happy. Happy is good, right?”

It takes a second for him to take in what you say, those smokey eyes closing in on you with thought before he climbs over you. He places both hands at your sides and quickly boxes in your upper thighs with his knees.

“You’re thinking of dopamine,” he says.

“Huh?”

“That makes you “all happy”,” he explains and presses a deep kiss to your lips, leaving you thoughtless and breathless all at once. He moves to your jaw, and you begin to squirm from the pressure of his impassioned lips.

“And Serotonin.”

Another kiss, lower.

“Oxytocin.”

He’s at your shoulder when he starts to nip your skin, and one of his hands moves to ski up the back of your thigh.

“Reduced cortisol.”

Flustered, you grip his arms.

“Zayne, stop, it tickles,” you whine, but it’s the last thing you actually want as he readjusts his position and hovers above you.

His usually neat hair is messier and his breathing a little heavier judging by how his chest laboriously rises and falls. Groaning, you bite your bottom lip as he knowingly leans in and whispers,

“You need it to help you sleep, isn’t that what you said?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Why don’t you just say you don’t love me anymore?”

You look up from your phone screen at the sudden accusation. You’re resting on the couch, your back propped up by the armrest and legs splayed out on the other cushion while Rafayel looks down at you with crossed arms and a less-than-pleased scowl on his face. You’re entirely confused as to what you could’ve done to make him think something like that.

“Huh?”

“You’ve been playing video games for what—the last two hours?” he says, uncrossing his arms to grab your phone. It’s too late to warn him as he glances at the screen, clicking a few times. “What are you playing anyway? An…otome? Sheesh, go ahead and say you want me gone. Come on, tell me you actually hate me.”

Holding in your smile, you shake your head and affectionately roll your eyes. It takes an enormous amount of effort to not laugh as he continues to rant. “So, it’s one of those things. I thought I was actually in trouble.”

And by those things, you mean his dramatics.

“Hush, my complaints are perfectly legitimate,” he demands as he pushes your legs aside and sits on the couch. Leaning over, he flashes the screen at you to show the evidence he has that you’re completely unfair, unfaithful, and downright mean. “What’s this game giving you that I’m not? Are my dashing good looks and even better personality not enough? Is that it?”

Gently, you take the phone from his hand and set it down on the end table. “You’re plenty, perfect even.”

He scoffs and refuses to look at you. “Apparently not. Don’t you ever think about anyone else? What if I want to cuddle with you one day but you’re too busy to notice because you’re playing silly games?”

Ah, there it is. His real want. You never know why he can never just come out and say it.

“Rafayel, do you want me to come to bed and cuddle with you?”

“Want is a strong word,” he remarks but you can see his resolve (can you call it that when he planned to give in all along?) crumbling as he slowly turns back to meet your gaze, “but I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Not that you deserve it or care.”

Humming, you sit up, wrap your arms around his shoulders, and pull him down onto you. Lovingly, you snuggle him, stopping to only take in how red his neck and ears start to get when you squeeze him and start to stroke through his hair. You’re not sure if Lumerians can blow happy bubbles like he claims, but he definitely hums and relaxes his entire body weight to lay on top of you like he wants to sink into your skin.

Teasingly, you coo at him. “You’re so needy.”

“I’d rather say you humans aren’t needy enough,” he fires back as he wraps an arm around your waist and kisses the corner of your lips. “Ah, the sweet taste of victory.”

Giving out a gentle and short laugh, you lightly tap his back. “Go to sleep.”

 ⠀⠀ Happy Valentine's day ! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ i am honestly so very flustered so I have not much 2 say ;; I am just gonna post this here and then go <3 Sending much love to my beloved ren (sayrenka) for always drawing the yummiest sex comms for me ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱⸒⸒  ⠀⠀ [ uncensored ver ]

peter immediately grabs your face with his large hands and pulls you into him, his lips sliding against yours in an anxious release. you didn’t imagine your first kiss going like this, but it doesn’t count, right? as soon as he gets a bit of control of himself, though, he slows down a little, capturing you in a breath-sucking kiss, both of you breaking away for air twice. “are you sure?” he asks again, his voice a low rasp this time. you nod and he urges you to jump, carrying you with a kiss into his bedroom.

he lays you on the bed as gently as he can, and you immediately make work of sliding off your shorts and underwear. he’s so obvious with his staring, it’s adorable. “can i?” his eyes wander down and he asks again in that low rasp. “please?”

the way he said please sent a shiver down your spine. “yeah.” you answered breathlessly. “what do you want?”

“my face buried in your thighs.” he responds instantly, with the cadence of a casual conversation for something so brazen. you stifle a gasp and nod. he wastes no time gripping your thighs and hooking them on his shoulders. “you’re fucking dripping, baby.” he remarks as he starts to explore with his fingers. “this for me? you like seeing me worked up?” he almost whispers.

“i think so.” you manage to get out in between gasps from his fingers brushing against your clit. “do…do that more.”

“this?” he asks, rubbing his thumb in circles. “you like that, baby?” you squeeze your eyes shut and throw your head back with a stifled moan as your answer, and he grins. he takes this opportunity to start putting his mouth to work, his tongue lapping crudely as his thumb resumes pressing all of your nerves. the way he’s sucking and licking is filthy, the wet noises, his hums of delight and your cries of pleasure create a cacophony of pornography. you buck your hips against his face, pulling him closer lightly by his hair and when he groans you feel it inside of you. you whine, arching your back and he has to pin your hips down with a hand. he pulls his face away for a second, his mouth glistening with a smirk. “now who can’t control themselves?”

“shut up.” you whined in embarrassment, grabbing his hair and pulling him back down. he breathed a laugh against your clit, and you squirmed as much as you could in his hold. you’re not gonna last. he hummed and spoke into you, “yes ma’am.” and you knew you were done for.

“peter?” you whimper in between heavy breaths. “gonna cum.”

“yeah, baby?” he pulls his face away a bit, still keeping his thumb in position, only switching it to take your clit between his lips. “go on. cum for me.”

that’s all it took for you to release all over his chin with a weak little cry, your voice hoarse and breathless. you try to catch your breath, laying your head back on his pillow. “alright…” you breathed. “just give me a second…and you could…we could-“

“-about that.” he interrupted you. “i….i already did?” he says in a question, almost like he’s embarrassed, stark contrast to what his tone was minutes ago. “the effects wore off. let’s just leave it at that…” he trailed off, coughing. you prop yourself up on your elbows.

“did…did you…” you look down. “cum in your suit just from eating me out?”

he takes a deep breath, looking at you up and down. “maybe.”

you fall back with a giggle, and he immediately gets defensive. “what?”