xstarlesscity | (no subject)

(no subject)

brought to you by

m0rae (moreae.tumblr.com)and

xstarlesscity (imgaydidntyouknow.tumblr.com)

GUIDELINES:

- you can be anon, but you don't have to be anon. you take full credit for your pervy thoughts if you like, but don't feel pressured.
- one prompt per post, please.
- read over the requests and fill them with fic and art. both are encouraged!
- a post can be filled multiple times. just because someone drew it doesn't mean you can't write it, or draw it again. and again and again and again. the more the merrier.
- absolutely NO hating on other people's kinks. there is a 0% chance that writing or requesting fic or art will hurt anyone, so live and let live.
- pimp us around! most of this fandom isn't on lj, so the more this gets pimped, the more likely it is that your requests will get filled. post the banner on tumblr with a click-through link to this page!

this fandom is seriously lacking in kink.
let's get this party started.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

OK, who's cock do I have to suck around here to get some smut fic with the Bloody Beetroots??? It doesn't even have to be Bob/Tommy, it could be Bob/anybody else that would be fitting, and I'm fine with Bob being the top or the bottom.

I am pretty desperate for anything at this point.

I feel for you, anon, I really do because there are way too many unfilled requests on here. Unfortunately, I don't know enough about the beetroots to be able to write them even somewhat decently so there's no way in hell I'm going to attempt it (last time I wrote a fic about someone I didn't know too much about...bad things happened to good people)

Suggest a kink or scenario and I might have time to cook something up for you <3

Are you serious??? You'll write something???
Here's just something off the top of my head. Tommy and Bob, frot in a cab...where they're going and why I'll leave up to you. I guess the kink is sort of like public sex.
WRITE SOMETHING PLEASE. You've baited me, I'm curious now.

ahldajshdjkdjasfffgg the real OP here, yeah, do whatever that other anon said, the frotting in the taxi cab, maybe they are about to go to a show they are all dressed up in their BB gear, the reason for sudden frottage? I dunno, maybe Bob wants to get all pumped up before the show or something

pleaseee there needs to be more bloody beetroots because bob is the hottest fucker ever

HE WEARS A MASK ALONG WITH LEATHER AND SKIN TIGHT PANTS I MEAN COME ONNN
not to mention his nipple piercing and perfectly placed tattoos
and how erotic his videos are
and everything else
yeah

(Not frot, but still jacking each other off! Sorry if it isn't what you wanted..)

---

Through the heavy, base laced air of the club, Bob is (almost) certain that someone is calling his name. It's quiet, distant and he's barely aware of it through the sea of sweating, half-naked people grinding and swaying against one another. His name fits so perfectly with the beat that he thinks it might just be part of the song, another beat mixed between foreign lyrics he doesn't understand.

undstundstBobundstundstBobundstundst

"Bob!"

A strong hand claws through the crowd to grab at the leather collar of his jacket, yanking him out of the mass of people and being pulled into a naked chest he's not unfamiliar with. Aoki was in no better state than he was, but still always managed to put himself in charge of getting everyone home safely. Bob had no idea why he would want such a responsibility.
"Bobby, c'mon we're going home." Aoki wrapped an arm firmly around his waist, his other curled around Tommy's shoulder, also keeping him in place. Like naughty children eagar to run away from their mother to go play.
Before they realised what was happening they were being pulled out into the bitter cold outside air, still crowded with people smoking and others arguing with bouncers. Aoki drags them quickly down the street to the nearest available taxi, opens the door and throws them inside with a quick "A presto!" See you soon!

Bob let his head roll onto his partners shoulder before realising that the taxi hadn't moved and the driver was looking at them through the glass. He looked pissed. "I said where do you want to go?"

"Home." Tommy mumbled through his mask wearily, making Bob snort and dig his hand into his pocket, pulling out a hotel card he'd snatched from the reception desk and pass it through the hole in the glass. The driver grunted and set off without another word.

---

For the first few minutes of the journey back it's quiet; the only sounds that can be heard are the radio the driver had playing in the front and the hum of the engine lulling them to sleep. From where Bob's head is resting on his partners shoulder, he can just see his brown curls peeking out from underneath his mask and hear his light breathing through his nose. He hadn't seen much of Tommy all night. They'd started off the evening together with Steve, drinking shot after shot of the strongest stuff the bar could throw at them. After that, everything was a haze; drinks had little taste and all bad music played (which was a lot) gradually became really, really good.

He let his hand rest on Tommy's thigh, the relisation of just how much he'd missed his company tonight only dawning on him now as he rubbed lazy circles with his thumb. "'Ey, Tommy." He murmured quietly against his shoulder, "Idiota, don't fall asleep." To which Tommy replied with a sleepy mumble against the top of Bob's head. Bob let his hand lightly rub and squeeze his partners thigh, slowly shifting down to his knee and then back up again, raising his head slightly to whisper in his ear.

"Don't sleep." He let his hand slip to his inner thigh. "Tommy.."

There was a sudden sharp intake of breath, Tommy's hand covering his own before it reached his crotch. "H-hey, not here Bobby." He pointed a finger at the driver.

"Who cares?" He murmured into his neck, using his teeth to pull at Tommy's mask. He pulled his hand away with little resistance, going back to palming the other through his tight jeans. It didn't take long for Tommy to give in to his touch, reaching his own hand over to mimic Bob's and stroke the already growing hardness he found there.

Singing along quietly to the song on the radio, the driver remained unaware of the activity taking place in the backseat. He would occasionally let his eyes drift to the rear view mirror to check up on the passengers, who he assumed were asleep given their head positions, though he could hardly tell, what with their masks. He'd had some strange passengers before, mostly pretentious 20-somethings who dressed in outrageous clothing and liked to think of themselves as the next big thing, but these two were something else.

Had the radio not been on, the sound of their joined panting and light groaning would've been more than enough to draw the drivers attention. It hadn't taken them long to unzip themselves and push their dark jeans mid-thigh, fingers tugging at each others briefs to slide underneath and wrapped around their cocks.
It wasn't the first time they'd done this. Well, first time in a cab, yes, but in public, no. There was something about the possibility of being caught that drove Bob wild; the eagarness, the rush, the danger of what it could do to their career, their reputation. Tommy wasn't really much of a fan of it himself, it usually took some coaxing from Bob. Though he'd never admit that what really convinced him was the thought of Bobby's face when undone.

"T-tommy, ohhh." He tilted his head to whisper filth into his ear, though he was pretty sure it was turning himself on more than it was Tommy. He let his hand jerk faster and faster, rubbing him from base to tip and gasping a little too loudly when Tommy squeezed the head of his cock between his thumb and index finger. Before long they were both a mess, hands slick and pumping them closer and closer and-

"B-bobby, I-I'm close.."

"Be quiet, Tom--Ahh.. Tommy.."

Three more strokes for Bob and five for Tommy and they both lose it together, coming hard into each others hands, teeth biting into bottom lips and hands squeezing.
They silently rearrange themselves minutes before they pull up outside the hotel, each taking note of the meter before the driver switches off the radio and turns around.

"That'll be 34 eu--" He pauses, eyes darting from both of his passengers to the very obvious stain one of them had wiped on the seat between them. He didn't look pleased.

"You're paying extra for that."

omg i am 200% pleased with this, so delicious

mmm cocks

ajdhasghasgashgffffghh... that was fantastic anon, thank you for that.

Highly pleased with this. The Bloody Beetroots needs more love round here.

a;'kdsa;ljhnnnnnnnnnnnnng

guuhhh i enjoyed that.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

(no subject)

no subject

no subject

no subject

I AM NOT OP

no subject

THIS

N-not here, Bobby! 1/2

N-not here, Bobby! 2/2

Re: N-not here, Bobby! 2/2

Re: N-not here, Bobby! 2/2

Re: N-not here, Bobby! 2/2

Re: N-not here, Bobby! 2/2

Re: N-not here, Bobby! 2/2