lmao i sent it before you posted but funny to see we both follow the same accounts, also maybe share your thoughts if you want? 🌊
i was thinking subby ross, maybe matty is holding the remote control for a vibe he's wearing, and he's doing something to be naughty so he's just being warned that he's going to be fuckin destroyed during the next song ❤️
i'm well thank you! i had a half day at work and the sun has been out which i LOVE!! me and robot have had a lovely evening with something we're enjoying at the moment, overall i just feel really nice <3
on a bit of a choking kick so maybe george choking adam or matty? could be fun and fresh. hope you are well! 🌊
CHOKING! my beloved!!! feels like a while since we've had george/adam so voila!
(cw choking obviously, kindof dumbification)
adam is such a pretty little thing.
he's splayed out on the mattress, legs spread wide, george's cock buried in his tight hole to the hilt. he's whimpering, his hips keep twitching, and even though george hasn't actually started moving inside him yet, he's so blissed out and deep in subspace. adam has cum three times already, from george's hands and mouth working him in various ways, and he's overstimulated in the very best way.
george has one hand teasing his nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers as he starts to slowly roll his hips. adam is responsive and vocal, especially when he's this overstimulated and worked up. the other hand has been gripping adam's hips, but as he starts to rock his hips faster and actually fuck into him, it strays upwards.
adam is so out of it with pleasure, but he still breathes out "green" in response to his colour check, so george follows through with his plan, and starts to really fuck into adam, fast, while also wrapping a hand around his pretty, flushed throat.
a strangled cry leaves adam's body as george wraps his hand around his neck and squeezes. he doesn't put on that much pressure, just enough to make adam feel lightheaded, and he opens his eyes. george uses his other hand to push one of adam's knees up towards his chest, and smirks down at him as he fucks into his prone, open body.
"that's it, you're my good little plaything," he murmurs, "aren't you? you're such a good little slut, taking my cock like a perfect toy."
adam moans at the praise, more or a whimper, but george cuts him off by putting even more pressure on his throat. his face is getting red now.
"oh, stupid boy. you don't need to breathe, you just need to take my cock. don't you? that's right, just let me choke you out, you know i know what's best for you. don't i? you're just a stupid little slut, all you're good for is pleasing cock."
adam's mouth opens in a silent, mewling whimper of pleasure, but no noise comes forth. george lets up just enough pressure for him to let in a raspy gasp.
"good boy," he continues, putting the pressure on again after a few seconds. adam's cock is bobbing wildly, and george is sure that if he released his throat and aimed to hit his prostate all at the same time, adam would cum on the spot. it sounds beautiful, and he knows it's how he wants the scene to end, but he thinks he'll draw it out a little bit first, so adam gets really desperate.
one hand comes up to hold his wrist. george knows what it means; a non-verbal yellow. slow down, ease up a bit. he lets up mot of the pressure and lets adam get his breath back in unsteady, gasping breaths.
"you okay?" he checks after a few moments, and adam swallows, then nods, holding eye contact as he uses the hand around george's wrist, to slowly push his hand down on his throat again.
feel free to ignore this i've had emeto on the brain and u probably have plenty of asks :) what about george being sick in a plane bathroom, and ross goes to help him then then they end up getting each other off? no worries if not cheers mate⚽
football ANON YOU GEM!!!! i love travelsickness i love emeto i love mile high club i love accidental getting off together scenarios yes yes yes yes yes
(cw graphic ish emeto and filthy kissing, semi public sex)
george loves touring, but he hates plane rides.
he always feels nervous, and waking up at the crack of dawn means greasy airport or takeout breakfast. then the anxiety settles in, then they go up in the plane, and it all, always, adds up to give him horrible, horrible motion sickness.
he's fine on the bus, on trains, in the car, every other mode of transport except for planes. he never knows what it is, but he always, always ends up being sick.
today, he's sat next to ross, obviously in the isle, about three rows away from the back. the bathroom is in sight, and if it's occupied when the time eventually comes, they have a wad of paper bags that he can use, and in his carry on is some easy snacks that he can pick at for the rest of the flight, and two bottles of water that he bought in the airport. he's fully prepared, he just has to wait for the moment to finally come.
his stomach starts twisting when they hit some turbulence about half an hour into the flight, but he takes deep breaths and holds ross' hand, and the nausea subsides a little bit, but he knows it's inevitable. the uncomfortable feeling rises and rises, until the back of his mouth tastes permanently sour and his throat is tight, and that's when he knows he's got to get up.
the bathroom is occupied, but he does his best to keep calm and composed while he's stood waiting. he thinks he should have brought a paper bag, or stayed in his seat until the person inside was done, but it's too late now, and he keeps willing them to hurry up, because his stomach muscles are starting to cramp, and he's tasting bitterness with every passing second.
he's having to stifle retches into his hand now, and he's about to rush back to his seat for a bag or to the other bathroom at the front of the plane, when the door opens and the person inside steps out. george manages a weak smile despite definitely looking a bit green, before rushing into the bathroom, slamming the door closed, and dropping to his knees.
it never gets any better, this part, but he's had enough water to make it easy to throw up his undigested breakfast, so he's not choking or gagging too much. he didn't bring any water, and he doesn't want to put the plane water in his mouth, so he'll have to hope the bathroom isn't occupied again later so he can rinse his mouth. he's definitely feeling a bit sorry for himself, and he wishes he could be anywhere but on this fucking plane, and the whole thing is making him feel gross again when there's a knock on the door.
"um... occupied," he says roughly.
"it's me. brought your water."
it's ross' voice outside, and george staggers to his feet to unlock the door and let him in. he stays firmly inside the bathroom, just so nobody gets any ideas. he's staying right here until he's sure he won't chuck up again. he smiles weakly as ross hands him his water bottle.
"how are you feeling, you okay?"
george shrugs. he feels empty and a bit gross, but not sick any more. ross looks flustered, and george thinks he knows why, so he doesn't say anything and just waits. ross continues.
"are you coming back soon, or...? do you think... might you be sick again? do you need something?"
he's blushing now, and george very obviously glances down at his crotch, which is obviously a little strained. he smiles and shakes his head fondly, definitely feeling better now.
"you're a dirty boy," he murmurs as he pulls ross into the bathroom by the wrist and locks the door.
at this obvious green light, ross pushes him against the door, and to george's surprise, kisses him straight on the mouth. he knows ross will get the sour taste from his lips, the slightly acidic burn.
and he loves it. he definitely feels better now; in fact, all thoughts of sick or nausea have been entirely forgotten (though he's fairly sure they'll end up making out on the toilet while it's still full of his vomit) and now he's enraptured by an entirely new kind of feeling...
matty's knees hit the floor with a satisfying and painful-sounding thud.
he's naked, his hands lashed together behind his back with his own tie, and of course, he's looking up at gabby with little hearts in his eyes where his pupils should be.
she's going to hurt him. she's going too hurt him bad, and he knows it. he's so excited, his cock is hard and leaking proudly against his stomach.
she delivers a swift slap to his face, and he grins, tipping his chin up proudly for her to do it again. she does not. she looks soo pretty, in her silky dress, with her strappy, black heels on, making her tower above him from his position on the floor.
they've just left a party for this, something they've been planning all day, and he's so excited to have her hurt him that he thinks he might melt.
"please," he says, and gabby cocks an eyebrow. "ma'am. please, ma'am."
she clicks her tongue, a small smile tugging at her lips. "good boy."
matty shudders, the praise rushing right through him, and no sooner has the warm, nice feeling washed all over him, than the sharp toe of gabby's high heel is colliding with his balls.
he groans, doubling over, straining at his tie, his eyes stinging immediately. his stomach twists with the pain, but his cock twitches and leaks a bead of precum.
"oh-- thank you, thank you, ma'am."
gabby hits him across the face again, hard, and he feels his dick twitch once more. the flat of her shoe pins his cock to his belly then, and she grabs a handful of his hair.
"stay rigid," she orders, her voice so low and sultry that he could honestly cum on the spot, even as she grinds his cock into his stomach with the rough sole of her shoe.
"more," he breathes, "please, more."
she digs the heel in then, the pain piercing his dick and making his eyes start to stream, but he loves it, he loves it more than anything, and more importantly, he loves her for doing it to him.
any day of the week! i wrote this while waiting for a bath to run so how about some bathtime!
matty has had the most horrible day ever.
it's been stressful and full of shouting and anger. he'd tried to stay calm, tried to dull the situation, but everything he'd tried had only made it worse, and all he's done all day now is argue argue argue with some people he thought were good mates.
he comes home and he's obviously frazzled. he was planning on asking george for a cozy night in front of the telly so he could forget about it -- some of his favourite ways to distract himself all rolled into one -- but the second he gets through the door, george wraps him in a big, tight hug, and his mind immediately screams at him to go into his headspace.
"mm," he hums, "george."
george is stroking his hair, looking at him with soft, kind eyes, and matty knows he's going to get what he wants.
"can i please... your little boy?"
he flushes as he asks the question, but george nods immediately, and it's all matty needs to slip right down into his little headspace. he feels calmer already, knowing that he's going to be looked after.
george helps him out of his coat and shoes, then scoops him up and sets him on the kitchen table. it's only when he does this that matty realises he's ravenous, having missed lunch today and only had time for a small breakfast.
it's as if george read his mind, because within moments, he's being chef dada, and fixing up a peanut butter sandwich, complete with commentary as if he were on a cooking show.
matty squeals and giggles, his thumb already in his mouth, but george doesn't stop him. he deserves to suck his thumb after the day he's had.
he eats his sandwich in less than a minute, a testament to how hungry he was, and gives himself hiccups. george just laughs and calls him a silly boy, lifting matty onto his hip and rubbing his back as he carries him upstairs.
"i bet you want to relax after your yucky day, hm?"
matty nods, his fingers sill in his mouth. george kisses the top of his head and sets him down on the closed toilet lid, before reaching into the cabinet under the sink for their basket of bath fizzers.
matty lights up like a little christmas tree. a bath bomb! he doesn't get to use them very often, and he loves them so much, but george says they make too much mess. just now though, when he's a sad little boy in need of cheering up, he's allowed to pick one out while the bath is filling.
he picks a blue one, with swirls of green and white, and george sets it on the edge of the bath before helping him out of his clothes and into the warm water. matty gets to drop the fizzer in, and it makes a satisfying plop as it hits the water and starts to fizz.
he squeals with delight, and george smiles, leaning down to kiss him before stroking back his hair and sitting on the closed toilet lid, watching his boy play and splash, joining in with his make believe about pirates or sea monsters, almost physically seeing all the stress just melt right off him.
"i love you, little boy," he says, suddenly overwhelmed with the emotion. matty looks up at him and grins, his eyes shining with adoration.
im just obsessed with the idea of this big strong man writhing around in pleasure and someone there controlling it, making him moan and cry and cum all over himself over and over is that too much to ask
special birthday ross ask!! lovely boy being fed a load of birthday cake then being forced to throw it all back up and getting a birthday reward! 👀🤖
i don't know HOW but i forgot today was ross' birthday. im so sorry ross, i love you to bits. please accept my apology in the form of this <3 also sorry adam stans but there's no adam in this ask :(
(cw stuffing/feeding, emeto)
today is ross' birthday.
he wakes up sandwiched between matty and george, already content and happy. they've promised not to make a big deal out of today, but they're going to make sure it doesn't go by without celebrating.
matty has already been awake, and there's coffee and breakfast waiting for him on the bedside table. he sits up and offers matty a sleepy kiss in exchange for his happy birthday and his coffee, and he snuggles down against his side, half awake while he sips his drink and they wait for george to come round.
"what are you planning for today?" he murmurs to matty, because he knows there's something, but all day, matty is tight-lipped.
george wakes, and they enjoy some cuddles with coffee and toast before matty gets up. neither of them really want to be in bed without him, so they get up as well, dressing and making their way downstairs for more coffee, and a lazy couch morning.
ross is about to make himself some more toast -- matty only made him one slice, and he's a big lad, but matty stops him, tells him it would be wise for him not to eat too much today. he's not sure what that means, but he leaves it be, because matty has a plan, and ross will go along with it.
they have a nice day; they cuddle for the morning and watch a few films, but around lunchtime matty squirrels himself away to the kitchen and makes ross promise not to come in. it becomes very obvious very quickly that he's making a cake, but ross is obedient and stays out, mostly because george is luring him in with a cuddle and a nap on the couch, which he happily takes.
when he wakes, matty is sat by their heads, the smell of cake wafting in from the kitchen, and his stomach is growling. he looks up at matty and gives him a smile. matty reaches down and strokes his hair fondly.
"hi, birthday boy."
"hi. can i eat now, or am i still a prisoner of war?"
matty smiles. "if you're hungry, we can have dinner soon. i'll wake george."
ross cocks an eyebrow. it's too early for dinner. he tells matty so, to which the older man rolls his eyes.
"are you going to argue with me, the best birthday planner ever? or are you going to get on with what i say?"
ross blushes. "fine. i'll get on with what you say."
matty wakes george, and they all move through to the kitchen together. george sits at the table, but matty takes hold of ross' hand and guides him into george's lap. george's arms clamp around his waist like a vice.
the birthday cake is on the table, proudly tall and iced with blue, a little penguin frosted on the top; truly matty's greatest handiwork when it comes to baking. he retrieves a knife, fork, and plate from the drawer, setting them in front of ross. his demeanour has changed now. he's acting like he has power.
"go on, birthday boy," he says, his voice a touch sinister now. "cut your cake. make a wish."
george holds on tighter. ross, cynical, cuts the cake, does not wish, looking at matty the whole time.
matty lifts the slice onto the plate and sets it back in front of ross.
"eat it," he says, and ross is happy to. his stomach is growling, and the cake looks amazing, and even though he has a slight feeling he knows what's going to happen, he happily tucks in, and polishes off his first slice quickly.
"well done," matty says, cutting and serving him another slice.
ross sees now what george is here for. george is here to stop him running if he wants to fight, so he's got no choice but to finish the whole cake, and ross has no doubt that matty will make him finish the whole cake.
he sighs heavily, but of course, he digs in to his second slice, and by the time it's finished, he's only a bit uncomfortably full. by now he'd definitely stop if he were able,but of course, he's not allowed, and he's still got three quarters of the cake left to eat.
matty wordlessly cuts him another slice, and by now the bright blue icing is starting to make him feel queasy just to look at.
"can i have a break?" he asks, and matty shakes his head.
"no, i'd like you to keep going."
"can i have some water?"
matty rolls his eyes. "five bites, then you can."
ross cocks an eyebrow. fine, if matty won't let him pause, he'll pause of his own accord. to hell with punishments, he thinks, because even on his birthday, he's not an obedient sub.
a few moments pass, then matty gives george a look, and his grip tightens on ross' waist. he pulls him in tighter, snaking one arm around the front of him and speaking a bite of cake on the fork, before starting to feed it into ross' mouth at a punishing pace.
he barely gets time to chew each mouthful before george is giving him another one, which means he's swallowing air with all his mouthfuls and it's making his tummy hurt even more.
when the third slice is gone, he glares at matty, feeling humiliated and in pain. his stomach feels tight and full already, and he's not even half way finished.
"please can i have some water now?" he pleads, and matty relents, pouring him a glass and setting it on the table.
"be good, or you'll be fed like that again."
ross nods, watching as matty sets another piece of cake in front of him, this one twice as big as the last.
he sighs heavily, the contents of his stomach churning and rolling already. he's so full of heavy, sugary cake, and his tummy is starting to revolt. he has to stifle a loud burp into his hand, which makes his face flush bright red, and all the while he's got to keep eating.
he manages about half the slice and a few sips of water before he falls back, groaning pathetically.
"aw," george says in mock-sympathy, rubbing his belly entirely too hard. "can you not handle it, poor boy?"
ross shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. george guides him to sit up straighter and takes up the fork again.
"yes you can," he murmurs as he shovels another forkful into ross' mouth. "good boys do as they're told. you know your colours."
he does know his colours. if he didn't want to keep going, he'd have said one of them by now.
"green" he says, just to make sure they both know.
matty sits down now and watches him sigh and struggle through the rest of the slice. his gut is visibly distended now, hanging over his waistband obscenely, all tight around his navel. he wishes something would move, it felt so good to belch earlier, but now his stomach is packed tight with nothing but food. there's nowhere for anything to move until it's digested, and there's still more cake to come.
matty loads the last slice onto his plate, and george lets him catch his breath before feeding it to him again. every mouthful is a struggle, and around halfway through the slice they stop wanting to go down. its like his body is saying no, and pushing everything back up again when he tries to swallow, but he wills it down until he's only got one bite left.
his mouth is covered in a sticky, sugary film of sweetness, and he really wants to retch. matty refills his water and wordlessly holds it to his mouth, watching tears roll down ross' face as he gulps it down. he feels too sick to even fight back anymore.
"one more bite," matty says," and george feeds him it. ross grimaces, but swallows thickly to get it down, and miraculously, it goes without a hitch.
until the second it hits his stomach, and his body rejects everything.
it all happens so fast that he's not even sure what's going on; the cake hits his stomach, he retches violently once, and everything comes up in a flurry of bright blue sick.
it's thick and chunky, barely digested bits of cake falling in strands of thick saliva from his mouth. he groans, tears rolling down his face, his body forcing everything up and out in wave upon wave of sick. he has no idea if this was matty's intention, but he's rock hard in his joggers as he loses control, so he's not complaining.
"ross," george says gently when he looks to be done throwing up. "fuck, are you okay?"
ah, so an accident, then.
"i'm more than okay," he murmurs, looking up at matty with a glint in his eye. maty raises his eyebrows, but gives him a big smile, then despite how filthy and disgusting he is, leans in and kisses him square on the mouth.