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#am i allowed to get nasty on here....
smoocheys · 1 year
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you. you understand the importance of massive hands. one of my favourite things ever is the thought of giant hands grabbing around someone's wait like. fingers around thier back, thumbs on thier ribs and it's so lovely
YES! im Size Difference Kink guy and really bad at drawing scale, but hands are the easiest way to show it as well as just. being incredibly hot. like
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two of these big ol hands on my hips... it wld be so over....
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josecariohca · 1 year
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mxalmighty · 6 months
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The Great Almighty Apartment Deep Clean of 2024
is officially underway. My bathroom is the cleanest gd place in this whole building now. It's like stepping into an entirely new universe.
I did that. Me. All by myself. /proud bean
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nochepsicodelica · 1 month
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Bear boyfriend Toji who dreads getting sick more than the average person. He gets so grumpy during this little stunt in his health because he can't do much besides manage his harsh cough and runny nose, rest in bed and eat, but that's not even what he's most upset about. He's so pissed off that he can't be around you, unless he wants to get you sick too.
Oh, but you make it so hard on him. Walking into the room with a mug of tea with that smile that could nurse anyone back to health. You linger for longer than you should, even after he told you that if you're in there for too long, you'll get sick too. It's an annoying dilemma because on one end, watching you be sick is one of the most heart wrenching things he's ever seen. Like him, you pretend that you're fine, when really you feel so debilitated by the virus that invaded your immune system. You tell him you feel better, but your hearing is muffled and your voice is gravelly and doesn't seem to be recovering quickly. Toji sees right through it and his protective instincts kick in. He insists on doing everything necessary to get you back up and running. On the other end, he wants to see you and kiss you and just hold onto you through this horrible time he's having. He hasn't kissed you in almost three days. It really sucks that he's sick, but it's entirely unfair that you can't be near him. There is truly so much for him to be reasonably grumpy about.
"Hey, you're gonna get wrinkles on your handsome face," you say, smoothing down the crease between his eyebrows with your thumb. "Do you really want me out of here that bad?"
He sighs. Your cool hands are heaven on his burning skin. "You know I don't, ma," he croaks out, pulling your hand down from his face and holding it. "I want you here, but you can't stay."
"Baby, you lost your pretty color. You look like a zombie, but also, it's killing me to only be allowed to check on you once every hour. I think it's time I come sleep in here, again."
"No," he protests, while shaking his head. He wishes he had rethought the gesture once he's steady again. He feels like he shook his brain and his head hurts, now.
"Toji, i'm taking care of you. I'm sleeping in our bed, tonight. I'm more worried about you than I am about getting sick."
He wants to laugh at how you sound like a mother scolding her child, but he knows it'll throw him into a nasty coughing fit. He can't argue with you too much in this state. He doesn't want to argue anyway. You care and it feels nice.
"If I get sick, I get sick," you say, settling down next to him, on your side of the bed.
Toji has never been one to pull the 'woe is me' card, but when you're smothering him with so much affection and cooing at him while caressing his uncomfortably warm face, it's hard not to lean into it. You relieve his discomfort with your methods of care. Be it medicinal remedies or your extra love and affection, even your patience. You weren't the one who proposed keeping distance from him. You didn't want to sleep on the couch those last couple nights, but you did it for the sake of letting Toji be comfortable. He's your lover and you don't see a reason to avoid him, like what he has is something more fatal. His contagiousness is disregarded, because it doesn't matter.
You know he would do the same for you so you don't wrinkle your nose when he starts feeling safe enough to nuzzle into you and sluggishly kiss you, while clinging onto you. He's extra clingy, too. Your body is a lot cooler than his, so it feels nice when he rests his cheek on your chest or when his hot, clammy hands go to your arms. You don't turn away or block your face when he coughs. You rub menthol onto his reddened chest and neck, and watch as he grins dumbly when his nose clears up for a little. When he falls asleep, you stay with him, even if he doesn't wake up for the next five hours. You watch over him and only get up to grab things that are necessary, like his medicine, some water, and a damp towel to wipe the sweat off his forehead and neck.
He takes on the role of the little spoon when you take care of him. Being pampered by you makes him feel small in all the best ways. He feels protected, like you're his guardian. It's really as if the only remedy he needs is you. The expanse of your love for him is unquantifiable, but when you wrap your smaller arms around him and press featherlight kisses onto his skin, it's like a force field that blankets him.
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dcxdpdabbles · 8 months
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Dauntless Matchmaker Part 2
Danny knew that his strange new boss was rich. He figured that much out by the overly priced suit and the wad of cash, but when he followed him into an Uber, he never thought he would wind up at the Waynes.
Everyone knew who the Waynes were. Danny personally thought it was no exaggeration when people called Bruce Wayne the Prince of Gotham.
He thought it fit the lovable man far more than the title of White Knight. It wasn't that Bruce didn't do the most out of all the ultra-rich to help the city, but rather, it mirrored the Dark Knight too much.
Danny thinks Bruce Wayne and Batman were too different to be compared like that. At least Mr. Wayne is real.
"Welcome home, Master Damian." The butler said as soon as the two walked through the door. His intrigued eyes slowly glanced at Danny, causing the teenager to stand straighter. "And who might our guest be?"
"I believed he was here for Drake." The young boy- apparently named Damian, fibs. Danny is a little impressed that he can sound so uncaring about what is happening despite being the whole reason he is here.
Danny knows that his job is to fool the butler and act like he isn't very aware of Damian. He offers the man his best smile. "Yeah, I came to see Tom. "
The older gentleman raises a brow while Damian shoots him a look of utter venom. Danny fights the urge to cower underneath the boy's displeasure. That is one nasty scowl the boy had.
"I am afraid Master Tim, is currently unavailable in his room"
Aw, crude, he said the wrong name. "Um, I know he said he needed a few minutes to get ready, but I was allowed to go up to his room. I'm sorry, sir I'm a little nervous."
"I see," The other says carefully before sharing a look with Damian. There is a moment where the two just stare at each other, and after a few small hand signs- sign language, maybe?- the butler clears his throat.
"That's quite alright, young man. You may go to Master Tim's room. It's up the main stairway on the third level, fifth door on the right."
Danny practically ran to the stairs, throwing a quick "Thank you, sir!" as he scurried away from the Butler and his boss. The boy still looked greatly displeased with his performance.
He prays he gets better at it once he speaks with Tom-er Tim and gets their story straight. Curious, He glances around, taking in the tasteful night pictures of Gotham City and the scattered few statues.
His breath catches when he sees a large frame photo of a man lying on an old couch looking into the far distance, his smile curving with mischievous glee and the sunlight reflecting the blue of his eyes.
There is a background of an old library, but the sun streaming through the window drapes him with a glow that makes the other man seem otherworldly.
It feels like it should be a painting, but it is so clearly a photograph that Danny has half a mind to wonder if someone who looked like that could possibly be real.
"Wow." He breathes, stepping closer to the frame.
"Wow, yourself." A gruff voice suddenly says, making Danny jump. Whirling around, he finds a boy about his age leaning on the doorframe.
It takes Danny a moment to realize that he is the subject of the art he was just admiring. But while the teenager in the photo seemed like a visiting angel, draped gracefully put together the teenager before him is, in a slight word, a mess.
He was wearing an oversized, fluffy, red open bathrobe. He seemed to only bother to slip on some baggy sweatpants and one sock. His hair didn't seem to have been combed in days, and there were dreadful bags underneath his eyes.
Despite that, Danny felt his heart flutter slightly when he made eye contact with the other.
"Who are you?" The stranger asks, voice a soft mutter.
"Um...I'm looking for Tim?"
"You found him." There is a half smile, but it falls quickly as the boy's demeanor seems to grow sad. Welp, his boss did say he was recently heartbroken.
"Oh great! I was told by Damian to do this when I found you." He places his hand on the wall, knocking six times, pausing for a few seconds, then knocking four.
Tim's face flashes through emotions faster than Danny can understand before the other teens' eyes water. That's all the warning he gets just as Tim bursts into tears.
He has no idea what's happening, but Danny's protective core has him rushing forward to bring the sobbing boy into his arms. He fumbles for a few seconds, unsure if it's welcome, until Tim melts into him, sobbing softly into his chest.
"It's okay. Shh. Shhhh. It's alright, everything will be alright. Why don't we head to your room?"
"Okay," The other whimpers. Danny helps him to his room, trying his best to offer as much support as possible. He is just starting to wonder if he should offer to get him some water or something when Tim kicks the door close, and the tears are all gone.
"Alright, we managed to fool Alfred. He was watching from the stairway," Tim whispers, leaning in close to Danny's face. He gave the startled half-ghost a sneer. "Now, who are you, and why did Damian send you to be my fake boyfriend?"
"Wait, you guys have a code for fake dating? That's what that was?"
"That's not important. I want to know what your objective is."
Danny tells him everything that Damian has told him since finding him. It's only been a few hours since he was fired and since he was taken by Damian.
Tim took it all in without much emotion.
"So you're here as my pity date to get Alfred to leave me alone? And was the Demon Brat the one to hire you? A likely story."
"No, I swear everything I've said is true."
"Oh, and I bet Batman is going to come out of the closet, too," The other said, rolling his eyes.
Danny frowns. "Batman isn't real."
At once, Tim's entire body seemed to have frozen. He blinks slowly, almost as if he is delayed in the reaction. "What did you just say?"
"Batman isn't real," Danny repeats slower, suddenly afraid for Tim's mental health. Next thing he knows, Tim will say the tooth fairy is real.
"Yes, he is."
"No, that's what the government wants you to think so they can hunt him down."
Tim blicks even slower before a blush starts to climb along his cheekbones. He reaches up to play with the hair at the back of his neck. "If that's true, then what is Batman really?"
"A ghost," Danny says confidently and Tim's face grows even redder. It's....endearing.
"You're weird," Tim says, looking away. His gaze lands on a hanging mirror, seemingly taken aback by his reflection. "Oh, I haven't showered in a few days, have I? Do you mind?"
Danny shakes his head, smiling. "No, go ahead. "
Noehter notices the small boy who moves away from Tim's door. And if that boy happened to be pumping his fist into the air in celebration well, that's no one business but Damian's
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shy-writer-999 · 1 month
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Slow Burn: Fucking Zoro in the bathroom
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WARNINGS: MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI. THIS IS NSFW CONTENT.
Author’s note: Pure, nasty smut. A continuation of my Slow Burn series, but you don't need to read the previous parts to enjoy what is written here. Note that the (afab) reader is on birth control, so Zoro gets to creampie her as much as he likes. This is some classic bathroom fucking (chef’s kiss). (´ ᴗ`✿) p.s. I am writing from the heart here and fully endorse bathroom fucking! (✿˵ ꒡3꒡˵)
Slow Burn: Fucking Zoro in the bathroom
After your first indecent encounter with Zoro in the crow’s nest, you two couldn’t keep your hands off each other. In the days following, you shared as many secret moments together as you could get away with, sneaking around and fucking each other with such ferocity you were surprised he didn’t straight up break your pussy somehow. Zoro was an animal, and a touch-starved one at that. He was counting his lucky stars because he was now living out many of the fantasies that had been building in his mind for months—and you were better than any fantasy he could have imagined.
A couple days after you first had sex, the crew was crowded around the dinner table. The conversation was loud and rowdy, but Zoro was quieter than usual. You were sitting across from one another and as you inspected him you caught him staring at your chest, not so subtly. He was absolutely locked in on the outline of your breasts through your tank-top, round and supple, nipples hard (it was a bit chilly). You weren’t wearing a bra, but then again, you didn’t wear one on the ship very often. No one really cared (of course Sanji was enthused). Zoro indulged in staring at you because he’d been in agony, not letting himself sneak any glances in your direction for ages. Now that he finally had his, er, “foot in the door,” he felt like he had the green light to take certain liberties. One of them was shamelessly staring at your tits, just for a few moments. It was like he was malnourished, and you were the first meal he had in years. He needed you so bad it was borderline ridiculous. You honestly wondered if he was in heat or something.
He stayed relatively quiet for the rest of dinner and then when people were washing up their plates, he seemed glued to his seat, rooted to the spot. “Zoro, you okay?” You asked. He nodded, giving you a look. As in, a painfully obvious “I want to fuck you” look that you had only seen once before. You returned the look and jolted as he slid his leg over to yours under the table and rested it on you. Was Zoro playing footsie? You tilted your head slightly, raised your eyebrows and rubbed your leg back on his.
The table was so small that it was easy to bump knees with people underneath it, and this allowed Zoro to inconspicuously reach his arm under the table and grab your thigh. It helped that everyone else was washing up or chatting elsewhere. You blushed a bit and snapped your gaze down to where his crotch would be (had the table not been in the way) and then back up to his eyes. You had a feeling he was hard right now. He squeezed your thigh again and said brusquely, “I’m going to the bathroom.” Standing up, you could see he was hard as a rock, trying and failing to conceal the boner that was stretching his pants. After washing up both of your plates, you followed him. He was in one of the bathrooms and you knocked softly and entered.
Zoro had already started palming his hard cock through his pants, eyes closed, grinding his hand over himself. When you walked in the bathroom, you whispered a “You doing okay?” before you realized that he was touching himself, but you didn’t have time to finish your question before he locked the door, grabbed your hips, and pulled you close to him, smashing your body against his, pressing you so hard against him and his pelvis that your tits hurt.
“I need you,” he whispered desperately in your ear.
His lips greedily found yours, his warm breath seeping into your mouth. He bit and pulled your lip—that was surprising. Zoro was full of surprises recently... You quickly noticed that he was grinding his erection against you, dry humping you, already letting out quiet grunts and moans into your mouth. He was so desperate.
You clasped your arms around his neck while his hands traveled upwards. As you continued to furiously make out and grind on his hard cock, Zoro felt around for your breasts and wasted no time, grasping them, softly massaging and then pinching your nipples ever so slightly. You pulled away from him to peel off your tank-top and he was struck by the sight of your bare breasts. Latching onto one of them with his mouth, his other hand trailed down to grip your ass roughly. You let out a soft moan.
Zoro’s mouth released your nipple and trailed upwards again, sucking on your collarbone, then your neck, your earlobe, your chin, everywhere he could. Both hands now gripped your ass so strongly you wondered whether or not he would leave bruises. He pulled your pants down and left a resounding smack on your ass, kneading it callously, holding onto it for dear life. Zoro was an ass man, after all.
Your hands trailed down too and rested on his raging boner, rubbing it with your palms, gripping it with your fingers. It was huge, you’d never seen anything like this before. Separating yourself from him, you kneeled down and yanked on his pants, making them pool at his feet. You did the same with his boxer briefs and his cock sprung out.
Zoro sucked in air through his teeth and muttered a deep “fuck” as he watched you kneel in front of him. He was buzzing, feral, using all his willpower to hold back from just bending you over the sink and fucking you silly. But patience is a virtue, and Zoro really, really had been dreaming about your pretty lips wrapped around his cock.
Looking up at him, you timidly started to cradle and caress Zoro’s balls and lick up his shaft, feeling him shudder under your delicate but firm touch. When you had licked up his length, your tongue circled the head of his cock, angry, red, throbbing, practically begging for you to take it.
You fully took Zoro’s cock into your mouth and sucked it tenderly, slowly opening your jaw more and more, feeling him thrust lustfully down your throat. He couldn’t take the teasing anymore. His fingers ran through and pulled on your hair, gripping your head and forcing his cock even deeper down your throat. You let out a stifled groan and gagged on him—his dick was huge, you hardly managed to keep your teeth from scraping his length, and your jaw was trying to cope with his girth as much as you could. You could taste Zoro’s salty precum seeping onto your tongue, and you moaned onto his cock, causing him to buck his hips and moan your name. You choked on his dick once again and he moaned your name louder.
Nothing made you quite as wet as Zoro moaning, groaning, sobbing out your name. It set something on fire in you, made you want to jump his bones and fuck him senseless on the spot. Your heart skipped a beat and the blood rushed to your face whenever you heard his deep voice whine out your name—that was your fuel, and you proceeded to literally suck the soul out of his dick. He’d never received head like this before.
“Nghhhhh—fuckkkk,” he moaned deliriously and his thighs started to shake. You sucked his length up and down, using both hands to stroke and coddle him, milking out every ounce of precum he had, making nasty slurping noises, peering up at him and making eye contact while you played with his cock. You could tell that was so close to cumming already, so you abruptly stopped and pulled him out of your mouth, leaving a string of drool connecting your lips to his tip, looking up at him. It couldn’t hurt to edge him a little bit. And you liked seeing him get worked up.
When you pulled his cock out of your mouth Zoro gasped, staring down at you, and as you stood up, he grabbed you by your hips, cupping under your ass, and lifted you up without any effort. You let out a yelp and wrapped your legs around him. His hard-on was already rubbing on your cunt through the thin layer of your thong. His hands rested under you, and he rutted his hips back and forth, causing his tip to rub on your clit repeatedly. You moaned for him—now it was you who was being teased. “Zoro, fuck,” you whined, “I want you inside me. I need you, please fuck me—please.”
Zoro shifted ever so slightly and rubbed his cock just right, pushing your thong aside and exposing you glistening pussy. Your lips were inflamed, red, and dripping wet. He passed his tip through your folds and slowly, slowly started pushing his cock into you. Your walls convulsed as he entered, excruciatingly slow, painfully big, pushing you open and filling you up.
Slowly, you sunk down onto his cock and he let out a deep groan, again uttering your name like it was a holy word. “Mmmmmmhhhhh, fuck,” he panted. Zoro leisurely started moving you up and down on his cock. He was trying to have some self-control, measuring his pace based on the neediness of your moans.
“Zoro, I need you harder, please, fuck me harder,” you begged into his ear, pressing your lips on his neck and then biting his shoulder. You were getting inpatient.
Zoro gradually picked up the pace, increasing his speed so you were bouncing on his cock—or rather, he was bouncing you on his cock, using his muscles so effortlessly to bring your ass up, his dick almost exiting you, then he would push you down and fill you up again, leaving you sputtering and gasping. His cock felt so, so good. It was grinding up on your g-spot, you were immeasurably wet, feeling so fucked out that you were getting to the point of begging and babbling away. He could have done anything to you at that moment, and you would have liked it and begged for more.
“Your pussy… feels so—so fucking good...fuck, baby, mmmmmhhhhnnn—” Zoro’s deep voice was right in your ear, he thrusted with every breath, and his moans sent zaps straight to your core.
“Z-Zoro, please fuck me, I need you, I need your cock, uggnnnhhhhh it feels so good, fuck me, please fuck me, fuck me harder,” You were whining and pleading as quietly as you could. He fucked you harder, rougher, more frantically, and your wetness seeped out of your pussy and down his cock. You were so wet that it was dripping down his balls and onto the floor below.
The noises of him bouncing you on his dick were echoing in the bathroom—they were nasty sounds of squelching, slapping, slopping, sucking, pure pleasure. You paid no heed to the thought that someone from the crew could be hearing you, you didn’t give a fuck at that point. All you thought was Zoro. Zoro. Zoro. Zoro. You chanted his name again and again and again. Each time you chanted his name Zoro fucked you faster and harder.
He kept grinding his cock up into you, getting off at your pretty face twisted up in an expression of bliss, getting off of the feeling of your tight pussy walls succumbing to his huge cock. He was fucking you in a frenzy. He was starting to shake, and he knew that he was about to cum, but he wanted you to cream on his cock so, so badly, so he held on for dear life. You were both lost in pleasure.
“Cum for me,” he grunted out in your ear. “I want you to cum—for me—unnnghh—cream on my cock baby,” he demanded. He sounded desperate. You were one step ahead of him, rapidly approaching your climax. His cock was filling you up just right, his muscles were rippling, sweat dripping, his brow was furrowed, and his mossy green hair was ruffled. The air smelled like sweat and sex. He looked so fucking hot right now, and the only thing on his mind was you, you, you, you.
“Zoro, Zoro, I-I’m going to cum,” you cried out, scraping your fingernails into his back as you finally reached your limit. Your pussy spasmed around his cock, and you let out the sweetest moan that Zoro had ever heard. His stomach flipped and his butterflies went crazy. He had held on until then and couldn’t take it anymore. Almost simultaneously, Zoro exploded inside of you, his thighs and arms shaking, shooting off ropes of hot white, filling you up. You could feel it—a deep, satisfying feeling, even better knowing that he was in some way marking you as his.
“Fuck,” you both groaned out at the same time, Zoro’s cum leaking out of you. Still holding you up, he collapsed his back into the wall, panting for breath. He leaned in for a slow, long, soft kiss, his cock still buried inside of you as your pussy constricted on him again, squeezing his cock. He rocked and bucked in you, slightly overstimulating himself deliberately, before he slowly pulled his cock out of you with a long, sloppy, wet noise. He set you down on your feet, and your knees almost buckled. Surprisingly, he pulled you into another embrace, holding you close to him, and he kissed the top of your head. “Was I too rough on you?” He asked, petting your hair.
You shook your head and looked into his eyes earnestly. “No, I loved it. Can you be even rougher next time?” You asked. Zoro couldn’t believe his ears. There’s no way you were asking for more than that, but he was so, so glad that you wanted it. He wanted to have his way with you utterly and completely, he wanted to make love with you and then fuck you senseless every single minute of the day. He wanted to know every corner and crevice of your body, to learn what made you feel good, to have control over your pleasure and see you squirm for him. He kissed you again. “I’ll do anything you want, sweetheart,” he said, making your heart flutter with his uncharacteristic sweetness.
You both pulled on your clothes and cleaned yourself up. There was a small puddle of your slick on the bathroom floor. You thought it was a little gross, but Zoro would have bent down and licked it up, had you not been there. That was next on his list, though, he told himself. He wanted to eat you out, have you cum on his tongue, watch you writhe under him and feel you tug at his hair. He was already getting excited at the thought.
(▰˘◡˘▰) <(¯︶¯)> ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ
TYSM for reading, I hope you liked it!!- Z
Links to the other parts of Slow Burn:
- Slow Burn (Part 1): Sexually frustrated Zoro touches himself at night while thinking about you.
- Slow Burn (Part 2): Zoro and the confrontation in the crow's nest.
- Slow Burn (Part 3): Getting nasty with Zoro when nobody is around (finally).
And here's my masterlist!
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theemporium · 1 month
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Hii!! May I request 💜 violet fluff number 37 for Luke hughes? Maybe he gets injured in a game and the pain meds he’s put on have him begging for reader to continue playing with his hair as it brings him a comfort?
(btw I love your writing it’s always so so good and when I see your page it always brings a smile to my face <3)
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
37. “You should play with my hair some more."
.
All things considered, the hit could have caused a lot more damage. 
It was a dirty hit, a nasty one that had the whole Devils bench exploding with complaints when the referees had only given the other guy a two minute minor. Luke hadn’t even been allowed to play the rest of the period or the rest of the game for precautionary reasons, instead taken straight to medical to do a full evaluation. 
Nothing was broken but his shoulder was a little roughed up and it hurt like a bitch right now—a pain the doctors assured would ease in the next few days. The doctors had prescribed some strong painkillers to help ease the pain and allow enough relief for Luke to rest tonight. 
Painkillers that seemed a lot more that strong if the boy’s current state was anything to go by. 
“You’re really pretty,” Luke sighed as he turned his head to look at you with a goofy smile. “Like, reaaaaaally pretty.” 
“I know, baby,” you grinned back at him. “You’ve only told me a hundred times in the last ten minutes.” 
He frowned. “That’s not enough. I should tell you more.” 
You snorted, shaking your head. “Those painkillers are really hitting you, aren’t they?” 
“Mhm,” he hummed, nodding his head. “Feel really good right now.” 
“Oh, I bet,” you mused as you reached towards him, pushing some of his curls out of his face and pushing them back. 
“Wanna go home,” he murmured, his eyes fluttering shut as you continued to run your fingers through his hair. “Can we go home now?” 
“Five more minutes, babe,” you assured him, your nails lightly stretching along his scalp as he let out a noise of contentment. Almost like a cat. You had to bite back your laugh at the thought. “Jack is gonna bring the car around so you don’t have to walk too much.” 
“That’s nice of him,” Luke mumbled, his cheek pressed against the pillow as he gave up keeping his eyes open. 
“Gotta stay up for me,” you murmured as you pulled your hand away, lightly stroking his cheek instead but the boy just whined in response. 
“No, why did you stop?” His words were slurred together as he blinked his eyes open, frowning up at you.
“I don’t want you falling asleep right now,” you told him in a soft voice, smiling a little when he leaned his cheek into your hand. “We still need to get home and I don’t think me and Jack will be able to carry you the whole way.” 
“I’ve seen how much he can lift, he’ll be fine,” Luke huffed out in response, slowly blinking as he yawned a little. “You’re going against doctor’s orders.” 
You raised your brows in amusement. “Am I now?” 
“Mhm, the doctor told me what I needed to feel better so you should listen to me,” Luke said, his eyes hooded and tired. “You should play with my hair some more. It’s the quickest road to recovery.” 
You laughed, shaking your head. “Well, if the doctor said so…” 
“S’the first thing he learnt in school,” Luke told you, only to be interrupted by a yawn.
“You’re so lucky Jack isn’t here to hear this,” you murmured as you leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead before returning your fingers to his hair. “He would never let you live any of this down.”
.
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astonmartinii · 2 months
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head over handlebars | lance stroll social media au
pairing: lance stroll x fem cyclist reader
some can be described as head over heels for their partner, lance just loves to go the extra mile
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
.・゜゜・ part of the aston martini summer olympics ・゜゜・.
yourusername
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liked by mickschumacher, estebanocon and 493,607 others
tagged: lancestroll
yourusername: note to self, do not take lance to olympics training
view all comments
user1: MY HEART STOPPED I THOUGHT IT WAS Y/N FOR A SECOND
user2: for real i need my cycling queen in tip top shape that gold is calling her name
lancestroll: THERE WAS A ROCK ON THE ROAD I SWEAR I AM NOT COMPLETELY INCOMPETENT
yourusername: you don't need to explain yourself to me sweetie
lancestroll: are you sure 🥺
yourusername: yes honey i know you just wanted to keep up
lancestroll: i didn't want to hold you back 🥺
yourusername: it's okay babe, just focus on recovering, you are also a professional athlete, remember?
lancestroll: oh yeah....
user3: bro so down bad he forgot he's a whole formula one driver
user4: i need my man like this and nothing else
estebanocon: okay you've been nice enough now, how much did you laugh?
yourusername: I DIDN'T LAUGH
mickschumacher: he's fine!!! you can admit it this is a safe space !!
yourusername: he's got two broken wrists dude?
mickschumacher: and? he's already had surgery we're legally allowed to laugh
yourusername: okay fine... IT WAS SO FUCKING FUNNY ... obviously when i realised he was actually hurt it wasn't funny but like objectively it was funny
lancestroll: i guess it was kinda funny
yourusername: ALSO THE SOUND HE MADE WAS SO FUCKING FUNNY
user5: i mean yeah objectively it is funny that the boyfriend of an olympic cyclist fell off of his bike
user6: anyone wanna bet there wasn't a rock?
lancestroll: ...
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lancestroll
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tagged: yourusername
lancestroll: i think i'm going to stick to four wheels ... good luck to the love of my life at the olympics, you're going to kill it !! xx
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user8: move over lance, we're ALL y/n's wag for the olympics
user9: every four years i become appropriately feral over this woman
lancestroll: every four years is rookie numbers pal
fernandoalo_oficial: WHERE ARE MY TICKETS LANCITO ???
lancestroll: excuse me ?
fernandoalo_oficial: i am bicycle enthusiast where are my tickets
fernandoalo_oficial: also i need to support my daughter
yourusername: i have acquired another father?
fernandoalo_oficial: yes and a supportive one so CHOP CHOP CANADA BOY WHERE ARE MY TICKETS ???
lancestroll: god fucking damnit i'm getting them old man
fernandoalo_oficial: thank you 🫶🥹
user10: well... that was something
user11: at least it means we'll get both lance and nando olympics content
yourusername: thank you baby !!! once i get that gold, we'll put that cardboard bed to the real test
lancestroll: 🤭🤭🤭
mickschumacher: IN FRONT OF MY FUCKING SALAD
yourusername: you're not invited ???
yourusername: also don't say you haven't thought about it
user12: VLOG? VLOG? VLOG?
user13: you people are nasty (please please please)
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yourusername
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tagged: lancestroll
yourusername: dreams do come true, never give up. thank you for always supporting me baby xx
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user15: i think i died and went to heaven
user16: i'm not even british but i felt so patriotic watching her fly around that track
user17: singing god save our queen but for HER ONLY
lancestroll: SO FUCKING UNBELIEVABLY PROUD OF YOU
lancestroll: i would say i can't believe it but i can you are the most talented person i have ever met and you can do anything you put your mind to
lancestroll: i'm so glad you wanted to share this moment and your life with me xx
yourusername: awww baby you're going to make me cry again 🥹💗 i'm so so so happy you could be there because i wouldn't be here without you and this gold is just as much yours as it is mine
lancestroll: NO!!!!! this is your gold and yours alone, you earnt it with your own blood, sweat and tears. just being in a relationship is the real win for me here
yourusername: i love you 🥰
lancestroll: i love you more 🩷🩷🩷
user18: now THAT is a man who loves his girl oh wow
user19: like it's cute when athletes say that their wins are for their loved ones but it's nice when their partners tell them that it's THEIR win
user20: i love them so much
mickschumacher: THAT WAS FUCKING SICK
estebanocon: HOLY SHIT I'M STILL SO FUCKING HYPED
fernandoalo_oficial: THAT'S IT YOU'RE MY FAVOURITE NOW
yourusername: ahahahaa thank you guys !! thanks for coming to support me xx
user21: this little group and their olympics adventures is so dear to me
user22: we better see more of y/n in the paddock after the summer break now
lancestroll
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lancestroll: i'm head over handlebars for you (quite literally) and i'm so proud of you, you deserve everything and more
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user23: bro won gold and is going to marry into one of the richest families ever, does she know how to lose?
user24: she needs to tell me her secret FOR REAL
yourusername: i love you so much lance, thank you for being there for me always
lancestroll: and i'll be there for you forever, if you'll have me
yourusername: there's no man i'll ever want again
lancestroll: and i don't want to be with anyone else ever
yourusername: we're so sappy i love us
lancestroll: why wouldn't i be sappy? i love you and it makes me mushy
mickschumacher: IT ALSO MAKES YOU LATE HURRY THE FUCK UP WE'RE TRYING TO GET DRUNK ON BEHALF OF Y/N
user25: thank the lord mick because i love these two as much as the next person but this level of loneliness as well as jealous towards people who are good at sports is CONCERNING FOR MY HEALTH
user26: so so so valid
user27: literally why didn't my parents push me into a sport when i was a toddler
estebanocon: first of all, fuck you for making us stand outside your hotel room while you banged. second of all, HURRY THE FUCK UP FERNANDO SAID HE'D COVER THE TAB AND WE NEED TO GET A COUPLE OF DRINKS BEFORE THE OLD MAN HAS TO GO TO BED
mickschumacher: i think they're still busy
estebanocon: ....
yourusername: WE'RE SORRY WE'RE COMING
mickschumacher: you sure were 🤨
lancestroll: okay we're finished you guys can stop being perverts
user28: okay so like this is proof these people are fucking insane even after things like WINNING A FUCKING GOLD MEDAL ???
user29: and they're queens for that i don't care
fin.
note: i am so so busy, i kind of hate this but i hope you guys enjoyed it!! xx
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Text
imagine bucky being drunk
warning: kinda spicy at the end
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"He's doing it again."
Sam nudged you in the ribs, tearing your eyes away from Carol; who had been giving you the latest details on her life. The two of you frowned but then Carol smirked, nodding to your boyfriend across the small dive bar she had taken everyone to. Bucky was standing next to Steve and he was pretend punching him in the face. Steve was laughing whilst blocking his friend's air punches.
"I love drunk Barnes," Carol sighed contently and you agreed.
"He's so cute when he's drunk."
"Sure, real cute when the tab is over a grand because it takes a whole brewery to get him tipsy."
Ignoring Sam, you promised Carol you'd return to hear the rest of her story and she smirked, holding up her beer. "We have all night."
Stepping away from the table, you smiled at the bickering going on behind you as to who was going to pay for the tab. Leaving Wilson and Danvers to settle that argument, you walked over to the oldest men in the bar. Bucky's eyes moved to you and he grinned like a little puppy, pushing Steve aside to stumble over to you.
"God, you're so cute," he hollered, pretending to grab a piece of you to eat. He consumed air you and you laughed, grabbing his hand before he could take another bite.
Bucky quickly engulfed you into a hug, squeezing so tight you had to holler for him to release you. "I love a good strangling, but let's keep that for the bedroom, babe."
Steve groaned. "Come on, man."
You smirked, allowing Bucky to pull your back against his chest. He wrapped both arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulders. "Sounds like Stevie boy needs a little fun."
"That's what it sounds like," you echoed Bucky's sentiments and Steve rolled his eyes when you suggested Carol up as a potential booty call. "What? She's fucking hot. Smart. Funny."
"Captain America, Captain Marvel..." Bucky slurred out a burp and the two of you busted into laughter - giggling like children. Steve instantly turned red and that just made the laughter louder until Carol called out to see what was so funny.
"Don't say a word," Steve grumbled under his breath, pulling at his shirt. "...stay here."
Bucky and you watched as Steve made his way to the booth, sliding next to Carol, who smiled at him. Sam looked over to you and Bucky held a hazy finger to his lips - the veteran understood and quickly excused himself from the booth. He didn't bother walking over to Bucky and you, because everyone knew the two of you were ridiculous together, sober or drunk. Most people couldn't stand being in a room with the two of you for more than a few minutes; hands all over each other or worse, jokes and laughter that seemed endless.
Turning to face your boyfriend, you squished his cheeks and he practically beamed. He was totally drunk and you were totally in love. He kissed you on the lips, at first gently but then his grip tightened at your waist and you buckled against his body.
"....so cute I could eat."
"What's stopping you? The bathroom is unisex..."
Bucky practically welp, gathering you up in his arms in a haste. Having a former super solider as a boyfriend had its perks - his stamina was endless, his physique would make a grown man cry, but his strength? That man could lift hundreds of pounds, so no matter your weight - this motherfucker made you feel light as a feather. And boy, you could get him stiff as a board.
"I just know you're thinking nasty shit," he groaned, moving you towards the bathroom.
"I am but pure of heart, James."
Bucky smiled contently, kicking the bathroom open. It was as good as a bar restroom could get. He placed you gently on the sink and made sure the door was locked. Two strides, that's all it took for him to get on his knees and pulling your panties down from under your skirt. His eyes rolled back for a moment as he took in the sight, but then he glanced up at you with a devilish smile as he firmly spread your legs.
"I love you," he whispered right before diving in-between your thighs.
Rendered speechless, all you could do was grip his hair and lean back into the sink mirror; the lowlights flickering as Bucky reminded you how much you loved drunk him. When all his inhibitions disappeared and he got to enjoy the little things in life - which included going to bars with your closest friends, running the highest of tabs, trying to hook up friends, and most importantly, going down on your girlfriend in a dingy bathroom.
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godjustkys · 3 months
Text
as you walk into the bathroom of the club, you are greeted by a sight of a young man, a beautiful one at that. the latter turns his head in your direction, quickly sizing you up as he leans against the sink, putting his phone in his pocket. you walk past him, clearly in no rush, though trying to keep focused. “don't you look lonely, hm?” he spoke up, eyes following your each step.
You walked to the urinal, just really wanting to take a piss. it was what you came here for in the first place. 'a potential client,' the younger thought, pushing himself off of the sink. 'i really need that fuckin' money. he looks rich too,' his eyes roamed over your back. “you and I both could use some company.”
“no thank you, I'm too old for you.” you answered nonchalantly, finishing up your business, zipping up your pants as you turned around and walked to the sink. the moment you started washing your hands, the latter broke the silence. “does that really matter?” he took a tentative step closer to you, his hands at his sides.
you spared the guy a glance, giving him a knowing look. “yes, so no.” the guy groaned in response, furrowing his brows. “you straight or somethin'?” he inquired, clearly frustrated. the more he worked, the easier it will be for his mother at home. he needed that stupid, goddamned money. you finished washing your hands, drying them off on your pants. “i do have a thing for men, don't you worry. but, men, not boys.” you said firmly, turning to face your body in his direction. “i ain't no boy. i'm a grown man, ya dickhead.” he argued, placing his hands on his hips. “c'mon, just accept the service, dude. you look hella tense, you could use the release. i promise i'd take good care of you.”
“i could use the release? really? you're saying that like you mean it out of the goodness in your heart. you just tryin' to butter me up for a better pay.” you called him out, tilting your head to the side slightly. “though maybe you're right.” you said simply. maybe you could use the release after all. being a single father was more draining that you'd expect it to be. being a father in general is exhausting. why not treat yourself just this once? even if it is given by a younger guy in a random club. the other slowly got closer to you, placing his hand on your crotch as he started palming you through your pants.
“i am doing this for money. men are nasty, the younger we are, the better they pay, the more they use.” he said, looking down at his hand. “seems like you're no different.” a smirk splayed over his lips. you leaned back, hands placed on the edge of the counter. “i figured i deserved a moment of relief. wouldn't have confided in you for that if i didn't feel bad about your desperation for money.” you retorted, tilting your head back slightly. “mm, 'kay old man, just accept that you're nasty.” he mumbled out lightheartedly, getting on his knees, his hands resting on your thighs. he looked at the bulge in your pants for a moment, debating. did he really need that extra money..
“make me feel good and i'll triple the payment of your charges.”
the moment that sentence left your mouth, all hesitation and second thoughts disappeared from the guy's head. “better keep that promise.” he said as he unzipped your pants, pulling them lower, together with your underwear. “better make it worth agreeing to your services.” you shot back, your body relaxing as your eyes fluttered closed. “aren't you feisty for an old man?” he taunted, taking your half-hard cock out. his eyes flicked from your face to your length. 'jeez.' he thought, eyes a little wide as he took in your size. “feisty? wouldn't say that's what i am, but it keeps you on your toes, doesn't it?” your voice was a lower tone now, smoother and huskier. the other didn't respond, his hand wrapping around your length as he dragged it up and down in a slow motion. “you're allowed to touch me if you want.” he muttered out, his eyes half-lidded as he looked up at you through his eyelashes.
“oh, am i now?” you breathed out, relishing the feeling of the younger's soft hand on your cock, his slender fingers wrapped around it. you were getting progressively harder. then you looked down at the guy, bringing your hand to the back of his head, resting your palm against it. “you wanna get started or are you gonna take your time?” you questioned, fingers lazily playing with his locks. he grumbled out a simple curse, a little unprepared but it didn't matter to him. he circled his tongue around your tip, the action teasing. his hand continued stroking you as he slowly and cautiously took you into his mouth. the feeling of his hot and wet cavern sent a small wave of heat right in your lower stomach. fuck.
he slowly started taking you deeper into his mouth, making sure to not use his teeth. he got hit in the face for that last time. you breathed out a small sigh, leaning against the sink, both of your hands now gently playing with the other's hair. to be honest, he thought you were going to push his head forward, be rough with him, but no, you were patient. you let him do this at his own pace. thinking you weren't pleased, the younger guy took all of you in, letting out quiet gag, his lips pressing to your base. “shit.” you murmured, furrowing your brows a little, the suddenness making you twitch slightly.
'oh, he liked that.' the latter thought, sucking you off now. he continuously gagged as he reached your base, squeezing his eyes shut to prevent tears spilling. you were huge, there was no doubt about that. your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping oh so lightly, it didn't even sting for him. he used his tongue in a different way that you've ever experienced, and god did that feel amazing. “just like that, yeah.. good boy,” you murmured, softly gazing down at the younger kneeling down in front of you. the two of you made eye contact for the first time since he started, and something in you sparked. a pretty boy, taking you fully, sucking you off properly, making you feel good.. you really needed that. perhaps you were going to become a returning client if he kept it up.
the younger guy quickened his pace, his hands back to your clothed thighs, gripping tighter than before, as if to ground himself as he took you in his mouth. you shifted your hips, subconsciously pushing forward a little. as a result, he groaned around you and his teeth graced your cock. the guy cursed himself out mentally at the action, prepared to either be pushed away and left without any payment or get roughed up. instead what he got was a shaky grunt from you and the feeling of you twitching in his mouth more.
it wasn't long before you came, the younger's work was exceptional. you didn't cum down his throat though, as much as you wanted to. you pulled out of course, as he was still a complete stranger to you. “i would've swallowed.” he said, his voice a little hoarse and breath heavy as he looked up at your through his eyelashes, a little frustrated. “let me fuck you and I'll give you a grand, hm?” you suggested simply as the other got to his feet. when he processed the question, he froze, looking at you slightly wide-eyed. “what?”
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just a thought, not proof-read at all.
word count: 1,307
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tgcg · 10 months
Text
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argument
its a big one
TG: alright this is probably a bust
TG: more i think about it how the fuck do you even make a marinara
TG: can i even alchemise cheese or do i gotta like alchemise the milk and curdle it myself
TG: how do you even curdle
====================
TG: make a goddamn
TG: curgler
TG: whatever
TG: internet archive gonna pull through
====================
CG: ALRIGHT DAVE
TG: shit
====================
CG: YOU BETTER BACK THE FUCK OFF. I DON'T KNOW WHERE IN BULGEMUNCHING VIRULENT FUCK YOU GET THE IDEA YOU HAVE ANY RIGHT TO TELL ME WHAT I SHOULD THINK ABOUT MY OWN GODDAMN PLANET. SORRY TO HAVE TO DEAL A BLOW TO YOUR IMPOSSIBLY INFLATED FUCKING EGO, BUT HAVE YOU EVER CONSIDERED THAT YOUR SIDE-EYE SLACKJAW HOPELESS DEADPAN BULLSHIT BEHAVIOUR IS ACTUALLY INCREDIBLY FUCKING CONTEMPTIBLE AND DOESN'T PUT YOU ABOVE OTHER PEOPLE? HAVE YOU CONSIDERED THAT?
CG: OR DID YOU JUST ASSUME FROM THE MOMENT YOU FOUND OUT I'M A REVOLTING FUCKING MUTANT LOWBLOOD FREAK THAT I'M SUDDENLY NOT ALLOWED TO LIKE THE IDEA OF MY LIFE MEANING SOMETHING AT SOME POINT?
TG: okay you are wildly misquoting me where the fuck did that come from
TG: also you scared the hell out of me
TG: im just trying to science some pizza here
====================
CG: OKAY THEN, DAVE! EXPLAIN TO ME AS WELL AS YOUR AMBLING ONE-NOTE SMOOTH EXCUSE FOR A 'THOUGHT'SPONGE CAN
CG: IN SOMEWHAT COHERENT TERMS, ALTHOUGH I KNOW THAT'S A TALL ORDER:
CG: HOW YOU SAYING MY ADOLESCENT DREAMS OF BECOMING A THRESHECUTIONER ARE "FUCKED UP AND IRONIC IN A NASTY ASS WAY" DOESN'T QUALIFY AS UNDERHANDEDLY KICKING ME IN THE MANDIBLE PRONGS!
CG: YOUR AUDIENCE AWAITS YOU WITH BATED BREATH! TAKE IT AWAY, M.C. BRAIN HEMORRHAGE.
====================
TG: okay i dont
TG: know how you got a hold of that phrasing because i said that shit in confidence
TG: get out of my business bro
CG: NEWSFLASH, ASSHOLE: THIS METEOR IS A PHYSICAL, LITERAL LOCATION WE'RE BOTH IN. IT'S NOT A FUCKING PRIVATE CHATROOM. THIS MIGHT BLOW YOUR PITIFUL MIND BUT PEOPLE CAN ACTUALLY HEAR OTHER PEOPLE TALK WHEN THEY HAVE TO SHARE A SPACE! BRO!
TG: ugh
====================
CG: AND IT'S VERY INTERESTING YOU ACCUSE ME OF MISQUOTING YOU, AND THEN SUDDENLY TURN AND SPOUT FROM THAT SHITTY DRONING GROANSHAFT OF YOURS THAT I'M INVADING YOUR PRIVACY WHEN I DIRECTLY QUOTE YOUR SMARMY LITTLE SHAMEGLOBES!
CG: WOW! TURNS OUT KARKAT IS ACTUALLY BEING GENUINELY FUCKING UPSET ABOUT SOMETHING — WHO KNEW, RIGHT? WHO WOULD'VE GUESSED THAT I ACTUALLY HAVE GENUINE COMPLAINTS TO LEVEL AGAINST THE PEOPLE WHO GO SPOUTING HOOFBEASTSHIT ABOUT ME BEHIND MY BACK TO THEIR ECTOSIBLINGS?
TG: no dude can you shut up a second
CG: I MOST CERTAINLY FUCKING WILL, THANKS FOR THE OFFER! I'M NEVER TELLING YOU A GODDAMN THING AGAIN, SO I HOPE YOU MANAGE TO GAIN SOME WRINKLES TO THAT VESTIGIAL FLAWLESS ORB FLOATING AROUND IN YOUR CAVERNOUS NUGBONE FROM ALL THIS. I HOPE IT WAS WORTH ALL THE EFFORT ON YOUR END.
TG: listen!!!!
====================
CG: MHM! MY AURICULAR CHAMBERS ARE WIDE OPEN!
TG: jegus
TG: okay
TG: i have no defense for my literal phrasing but how expeditiously did you shadowstep the fuck away after i said that
TG: because that is some shrek tier "princess and ugly dont go together" level misrepresentation of my sweet self
TG: like if this wasnt obviously a heated platonic argument we were having i would probably be digging what the reference even if it was a shitty trope
====================
TG: i just
TG: have been thinking about some things and none of those things have got an iota of a thing to do with you or your blood
TG: thing
TG: man
TG: i dont know why you think id be so pressed about your vein juice its like
TG: a normal ass color for a normal ass guy
TG: and obviously it was a major fucking deal from how you talk about it but it doesnt need to be anymore
====================
TG: the thing is i just dont like have the same attitude as you about fighting and stuff and thats not something i am getting into right now but i am gonna make it expressly clear
TG: that its just kind of fucked up for me to sit my ass down and listen to someone spew gold and medals and confetti colored shit going googoo all over tall and loathsome ass bloodletters he never knew
TG: and have him tell me he wants to be the best guy at combat since samurai fuckin jack
TG: and thats my capital B business believe me the emphasis is there
====================
CG: SO IS THIS ABOUT ME WANTING TO BE PART OF SOMETHING YOU DON'T AGREE WITH? BECAUSE THRESHECUTIONERS DON'T EVEN FUCKING EXIST ANYMORE. I LITERALLY COULD NOT DO THIS IF I TRIED AT THIS POINT, SO YOU CAN UNKNOT YOUR “KNIGHTY WHITIES” ABOUT IT.
TG: being anti-military is not my point but damn if it isnt a thing thats probably true anyways so good job sleuthing that out
CG: WHAT IS YOUR POINT, DAVE.
TG: bluh
TG: i just said i dont wanna talk about it man
====================
CG: OKAY,
====================
CG: OKAY.
CG: I MEAN. IT FEELS KIND OF IMPORTANT TO THE CONTEXT OF THIS WHOLE UNAMBIGUOUSLY PLATONIC ARGUMENT WE'VE BEEN HAVING
CG: WHICH I'M RELIEVED WE AGREE ON BY THE WAY
CG: BUT IF YOU DON'T WANT ME TO KNOW I'M NOT GOING TO WRING IT OUT OF YOU. IT'S FINE.
====================
CG: …IF YOU DECIDE AT SOME POINT THAT YOU WANT TO TELL ME THOUGH, MY RUMBLE VESSELS ARE STILL OPEN.
TG: i swear youre making those up on the spot at this point
CG: I'M KEEPING MY LANGUAGE'S ART ALIVE, DAVE. IT'S BASIC DECENCY TO THE PLANET THAT RAISED ME.
TG: heh
====================
TG: yknow we got these things called anatomical snuffboxes
TG: its got that right amount of vague nose wrinklage to it that i feel like youd be right at home saying that
TG: snug as a grub even
CG: WHAT PART IS THAT???
TG: its that little weird bone bit that sticks out on the back of your palm when you flex your thumb right
====================
TG: look
CG: HUH. LOOKING AT THAT IS KIND OF WIGGING ME OUT.
TG: yeah its kinda gross rose told me about it
TG: but anyways
====================
TG: are we cool
CG: I MEAN… I GUESS SO. YOU WEREN'T ACTUALLY INSULTING ME, RIGHT?
TG: hell no dude never
CG: OKAY. I COMPLETELY RESCIND THE MYRIAD OF WAYS I JUST INSULTED YOU. AND I'M SORRY.
TG: nah i know its just fluff at this point
====================
CG: I STILL DON'T APPRECIATE YOU TELLING ROSE THINGS I SAY TO YOU IN CONFIDENCE. THAT WAS BETWEEN YOU, ME, AND MY NOW NON-EXISTENT HOME PLANET ROTTING AWAY TO A CRATERED GRAY HUSK IN ANOTHER DEAD UNIVERSE.
TG: i swear that was like the only thing its just that she gets it and i cant keep my mouth from going on about the gettable stuff
TG: they call me the babbling brook the way my flows so audible
TG: i wont do it again
CG: NO,
====================
CG: I GET IT HONESTLY.
CG: I'M BASICALLY THE NUMBER ONE PROPRIETOR OF AIRED GRIEVANCES IN ALL OF PARADOX SPACE AND THEN SOME, AND I'D ALSO BECOME ITS BIGGEST HYPOCRITE IF I HELD IT AGAINST YOU.
TG: thanks
TG: but i mean
TG: at the gigantic risk of sounding uh
====================
TG: ………..
CG: ?
====================
TG: well
TG: i kinda just think youre better at being a guy to chill out and watch movies with than a guy to tangle fists with
TG: and i dont think theres anything wrong with being that
TG: i think its cool
====================
CG: …THAT'S AN ALARMINGLY BRAZEN OBSERVATION TO MAKE OF SOMEONE YOU'VE KNOWN FOR ABOUT THE SPAN OF SEVEN SEASONAL EQUINOXES, DAVE.
TG: i dont know what that means but it sure is probably
CG: AM I ALLOWED TO ASK WHAT EVEN GIVES YOU THAT IMPRESSION????
TG: i just got that inkling about you man
====================
TG: and you can do whatever you want with that info
TG: throw it in the load gaper or whatever if you want i dont really care
TG: give it a swirly and slam it in a locker call it a nerd break its glasses whatever
TG: but beyond this whole lord english thing weve got going on i am pretty content to never aggress my fellow man slash alien slash monster again if i can help it
TG: i think thats pretty fair given what thats been like so far
====================
TG: and yknow its cool to have some company when im waxing emotional over the narrative depth of click starring adam sandler which we are watching next by the way
CG: UGH, FIIIIIIIIINE. JUST TO MAKE UP FOR CALLING YOUR THINKPAN SMOOTH AND SUPERFLUOUS.
====================
TG: score
TG: we should argue all the time
CG: SNRK
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kittenintheden · 3 months
Text
how to lose your mind
WE HAVE LIFTOFF. yeah I. it's a companion piece to how to train your brat and can be considered a future NYS teaser-spoiler. read the tags. enjoy.
Rating: E Pairing: Astarion/Ori (female Tav/OC) Word Count: 5k Content: 18+, pegging Astarion into an absolute puddle, sex toys, anal, handjob, multiple orgasms, facesitting, oral sex, overstimulation, prostate stimulation, idiots in love and so horny about it, future NYS content
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That old Harper druid is a bloody harpy. Sniping, judgmental, disdainful. Eager to tell him exactly where his shortfalls lie and rebuff him like a child, smirking all the while.
Heroes. Who has need of them? Certainly not him.
Astarion bursts into their private room at the Elfsong like there’s a storm cloud over his head. Ori’s reading in an overlarge armchair near the small fireplace clad in one of her short robes. Her legs dangle off the side of the chair.
She raises an eyebrow at him. “I sense there’s a story here,” she says.
He flails his hands through the air in exasperation and stalks over to the cabinet, snatching up the crystal decanter he’s been keeping his spare blood supply in lately. He turns around and points the neck of the bottle at her.
“That Jaheira is nasty,” he gripes, removing the stopper from the decanter and turning back around to pour himself a glass. “She called me, and I quote, a ‘homicidal imp easily distracted by shiny things.’” He waves his hand through the air for effect and glances over his shoulder at her.
Ori lets the hand holding her book fall to her chest and gives him a fond smile. “Is that inaccurate?”
“She’s not allowed to say it,” he says. “She hasn’t earned the right.”
He picks his goblet up by the rim and turns, resting back against the cupboard and properly looking at her as he brings it to his lips. The hem of her robe rides up her bare legs and stops just before her arse. If he had to guess, he’d say she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.
“And what have you been doing this afternoon, darling?” he says, pitching his voice lower and taking another drink as he holds her eye.
Ori shrugs. “Sorting through our chest of assorted nonsense.” She holds up her book. “Reading a bit. Enjoying the lack of whinging.”
He tuts at her. “I come to my partner for support in my time of need and all I get is teasing,” he pouts. “Woe, for I am alone in all things.”
She lolls her head back and laughs. Rolling her body toward him, she lets her book dangle from her fingers and gives him bedroom eyes from beneath her lashes. The split in her robe separates between her breasts and gives him a peek at her cleavage.
“That’s too bad,” she says coquettishly, running the fingers on her free hand over the vine tattoos twisting over her collarbone. “Here I thought I had company and that he might want to spend quality time with me tonight.”
Astarion hums at her and knocks back the rest of his refreshment. “He’ll think about it.” He turns around to pour himself another, tapping his toe against the wooden floor as he does. Over his shoulder, he says, “What were you reading, anyway?”
“Something I picked up at Sharess’ Caress,” she says.
His mouth tics up in a half-grin as he watches blood refill his silver goblet. “Ah, it all makes sense.” He sets down the decanter. “Give you any ideas for the evening’s activities?”
“One or two,” she says, a tingle going up his spine at the sultry lilt in her voice.
He looks over his shoulder to throw another quip and it sticks on his tongue when he sees that she’s sitting perched on the edge of the chair. The robe’s untied and laid fully open, revealing her bare, freckled chest and full breasts, her legs stretched out in front of her. She has her hands on the cushion behind her and arches her back so he gets the full effect as his eyes follow the natural path down from her parted lips to the valley between her breasts to the plane of her stomach to-
Ori glances down to the place his eyes have settled and says, “I thought maybe, if you wanted to, you’d like to come sit on my lap while we consider our options.”
Astarion chokes a little on his own saliva and coughs to cover it, glancing away. He clears his throat and looks back to the space between her legs, feeling a wave of surprised arousal ripple down his torso, leaving heat in its wake.
“Is that, erm.” He gestures at the dark gray, exquisitely shaped cock she’s attached to her hips with a black leather harness. “Is that the one…”
She lets her head fall to one side and grins at him. “The one I saw you eyeing when we were out before?” she says. “It is. The D-”
He waves a hand in front of him and shakes his head. “Don’t… please don’t say the name again. I can’t handle it.”
Ori giggles, head thrown back and toy bouncing teasingly in her lap. When she rights herself, her smile goes soft. She lifts a hand and holds it out to him. “Come here,” she says.
He does, leaving his second drink on the cupboard as he approaches, taking her hand. She pulls him to her gently, just enough to indicate that she’d like a kiss as she tilts her face up for him. He bends at the waist and presses his mouth to hers once, then a second time. Then he drops his gaze to the toy and reaches down to touch it.
It’s hard in a way that makes his own cock respond in kind at its promise, but softer than he’d thought it would be, as if it’s covered in a thin layer of well-conditioned leather. He runs his fingers over it, mapping its shape. Good. Very good shape. Very good size.
“Mmmn,” he breathes before he can catch the sound in his throat.
Ori leans in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “It’s an option. If you want. Or we can do something else.”
He laughs through his teeth. “No, this, uh. This is. I like it.” He meets her eye. “I think I would like to do that. With you.”
She smiles and waits.
“Now,” Astarion specifies. “I would like to do it now.”
“Lucky you,” she purrs, twisting her fingers in the front of his shirt and pulling him against her for another kiss.
Their tongues tangle together and he falls to his knees between her legs. He pulls the robe off her shoulders so he can run his lips and tongue along her collarbone and up over the place where her neck meets her shoulder. Another rush of arousal throbs through his core as his body and mind remember that this can feel good, it can feel so good, and he trusts that she’ll take care of him.
Ori’s hands go up under his shirt and she helps him get it off over his head, their mouths only parting long enough to remove it. She twines both hands around the nape of his neck and strokes her tongue sweetly against his. He groans as he presses his body to hers and feels the cock pressed between their bellies.
Half-reluctantly, half-eagerly, he breaks away and pushes himself to standing, going to undo his fastenings. Ori’s hands fall over his and he lets her take over, loosening his ties. As she does, she presses soft kisses along the line between his navel and his pelvis, further igniting his need. It’s all he can do not to whine at her.
She chuckles and gets his laces undone, hooking her fingers under the hem of his breeches and pulling them down until his hard cock springs free, the head swollen tight and pink with want.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she purrs, observing him mere inches from her face. “I thought you might like this, but I had no idea.”
He murmurs his approval as she pokes out her tongue and runs it sweetly over the slit on the underside of him, his pre-fluid creating a tiny pool in the center of her tongue. Then she looks up at him and swallows.
“How would you like it, dearest?” she says. “This is for you.”
It fully hits him, then. His gaze shifts to the side table where she’s set out a few things – towels, a basin, vials. The toy she’s wearing won’t give her any pleasure of her own, at least not the way she’s offering it to him.
“You planned this,” he breathes. “For me.”
She nods.
His throat bobs, desire and adoration swirling together inside him. He doesn’t know how to thank her. For this, for everything. But he’ll figure it out. Every day until it all ends, he’ll figure it out.
“I can be on top?” he asks softly.
“Of course you can, love,” she says, running her hands up the outsides of his thighs. She helps him remove his remaining clothes and then reaches for one of the vials.
Astarion lifts one of his legs and sets his foot on the chair beside her, leaving the other on the floor. Ori takes his hint and applies lubricating oil to her fingers before she reaches between his legs, continuing to press open-mouthed kisses to his stomach as she runs her middle finger along the cleft of his arse. His breath catches when she finds the opening and massages it gently with the pad of her finger.
He closes his eyes and relaxes into the feeling, letting himself enjoy the way she’s touching him. His thigh falls open wider, giving her better access. She takes her time, completely unhurried, letting him shiver and sigh for her. She touches him, kisses him, sings him his praises.
When he begins to squirm impatiently and cracks his eyes to give her a heated look, she gives the head of his cock another lick and pushes her finger inside slowly, up to the first knuckle to start. He clenches on instinct, then in pleasure, then relaxes as she pushes deeper, past the second ring of muscle.
He didn’t have doubts about her experience, really, but any he might have had evaporate when she curls her finger and finds his pleasure center almost immediately.
“Oh,” he breathes, curling over her slightly and gripping the arms of the chair. “Yes, there, right there.”
She works him slowly with one finger, then two, stroking circles along the place inside him that makes his toes curl. A low, aching, insistent tension begins deep inside him. The feverish need for more.
Instinctively, hard-coded from years of experience, Astarion reaches out blindly for her cock to stroke along its length, to bring her in closer to his body. It takes him a murky moment to realize it’s likely for naught, but he does it anyway. He feels oil against his fingers and realizes she’s added more, this time to the phallus she wears. He swallows hard and spreads it, pumping like he would if she could feel him.
Ori reaches up to the back of his head with her free hand and presses their foreheads together. “Whenever you’re ready, love.”
“Ready,” he pants. “Gods, so ready.”
She carefully removes her fingers from him so he can crawl up onto the chair with her, his knees on either side of her hips as he straddles her. Ori puts her hands on his hips while he holds on to the back of the chair and helps him line up, the phallus held firm in its harness. He finds it and sinks down, his breath coming rapidly as the head of it stretches him.
He rocks softly down, down, and down again, and then she’s partway inside him, the curve of the toy hitting him just right.
“Uuuuhhh fuck me,” he grits out as he moves.
“Trying, baby,” she says.
She puts her forearm against the chair for leverage and rolls herself up into him, her torso undulating in a smooth wave. Astarion shudders out his breath and lets his eyes fall closed as she works the full length inside him, stroking firmly along his hot spot on the way in and out. His fingers tighten against the chair and he turns his head to the side to gently bite down on his own arm to stifle the noises threatening to spill from his lips.
He works his hips in tandem with her, finding an easy rhythm that feels absolutely delicious. Ori’s hands run up his chest and around his ribs to his back. She brings her face in close to him, licking her tongue over his pectoral until she finds his nipple, and pauses there to gently suck.
“Hmmmmn-ah,” Astarion moans, releasing his arm where he’s biting it and letting sound rise out of his throat once more. Too focused on the tension building within him to be anything resembling coherent. His head feels far too heavy as he presses it against the side of her face.
With his mouth near her ear, she can pick out a select few words – mostly Elvish, with her name peppered in for good measure.
She takes her mouth from his chest and turns to kiss him quiet. He continues to rock against her, occasionally bobbing up and down. His timing goes increasingly spotty.
When they break, she whispers, “This must feel good. You’re doing the garbled Elvish thing.”
“Mmmm sh-shhh,” he shushes her, leaning in to cover her mouth with his, kissing between shallow gasps. For once, he has no clever comeback on deck. The only thing currently top of mind is that the combination of riding good cock and knowing the good cock belongs to the person he loves is driving him out of his absolute mind with pleasure.
He releases a hand from the chair and lets one arm fall to his side, dangling it as he leans back and rolls his hips against her, panting out a steady stream of hah, hah, hah as he lets the sensations wash through him.
While she watches him lose himself from below, Ori rubs circles into his lower back and around his hips. “So beautiful,” she murmurs. “Beautiful and riding me so well.”
He brokenly cries out her name. The tension inside him is swelling and rising, threatening to burst. He reaches around to take his cock in hand and finish himself off, but Ori stays him, lacing their fingers together.
“I’m ready to come,” he gasps. “I’m… right there.”
“I know,” she says gently back. “You can. You can come for me, love.”
“I need to…” He tries to touch himself again.
She holds him. “Trust me, baby. You can. You can come, just like this.”
“I… I…”
Ori continues to slowly fuck him through his overwhelm. When he relaxes against her again to let the pleasure continue, she releases his hand and reaches between his legs, not quite touching his cock. She briefly cups him before moving a knuckle behind his balls to massage the spot right at the base of his cock.
Astarion’s eyebrows tick up and his jaw goes fully slack as the additional stimulation tips him over, the tension releasing from him as he clenches down around the toy, riding out the heavenly pulses sending ripples through his entire body.
His cock leaks a bit, fluid trailing over the tip and down the underside, but continues to stand rock-hard and at attention.
“Bleeding gods above and below,” he groans. He’s only had one of those a handful of times in his life. For good measure, his body gives one last mild clench.
Ori lightly runs her fingers over his skin. “Did I do okay?” she teases.
He heaves a breath and hums at the feeling of her still inside him, the need already starting to prickle at the edges of his awareness.
“I just came so well that I don’t think I could pretend I didn’t if I tried,” he says, deadpan.
“So, yes, then.”
“Yes.”
She takes one of his hands back in hers and brings it to her mouth to kiss. “Do you need to take a breather?”
“Also yes,” he says.
With her help, he gets his legs back under him and carefully rises up off her, whining a little at the loss. It felt good and he’s still so hard.
But he also genuinely needs a moment to catch his breath.
Astarion helps her to standing and she gives him a kiss before she moves to the side table. He moves to flop down onto their shared bed, flat on his back. The blankets are cool against his sex-heated skin.
Ori takes a moment to do a quick cleanup with her gathered supplies before she comes to stand between his spread legs where they hang over the edge of the mattress. She lays two towels down on the bed beside him.
With a pleased sigh, she runs the pads of her fingers down the dip in his abdomen, making him jump beneath her touch as she nears his leaking cock. She doesn’t quite touch and he flops his head back in mock disappointment, his blissed smile giving him away.
“I think…” she says as she crawls up to straddle him, holding his eye. “... you could do another of those. If you wanted.”
“Gods,” Astatrion groans, his core clenching in memory and anticipation. “I don’t know that I could.”
She places her hands on either side of his head and bends down to kiss him. He feels the rigid tip of her phallus against his hip and subconsciously nips at her lip with a growl.
“Would you like to try?” she asks sweetly, batting her eyes at him. “Before the big finish.”
A rumbling hum rises from deep in his throat and he reaches up to move a curl out of her eyes. “You don’t have to keep going.”
Ori smiles fondly. “I want to.” She lays on top of him and he gives a gravely moan as her weight settles across his erection, trapping it between their bodies. She reaches up and traces her fingers over his face, gazing at him like she’s enchanted. “If you knew how gorgeous you looked just now, you’d want to make it happen again, too.”
He barks out a laugh and swallows. “Always knew you liked them pretty.”
She puffs a breath out through her nose and leans in to kiss his cheek. “I like them well-loved,” she says. Another kiss. “And fucked the way they deserve.”
His body responds to that like a reflex, arousal stretching and purring under his skin, his cock insistently reminding him of its need. He kisses her with a hum, breaking to rest his head back against the bed so he can look up at her with lidded eyes.
“I love you,” she whispers. “I love making you feel good. Will you let me?”
Gods, he adores her.
“I’ll allow it,” he says with a slow smile.
Ori raises her eyebrows. “Good.”
She goes to fetch another vial and spends a moment prepping them both again, running her heated palm over the back of his thigh and guiding him to bend his knee to open himself back up for her. When he’s ready, she puts her hands on either side of him and pushes cautiously back inside, careful not to go too hard or too fast as she lowers herself over his body.
Astarion instantly tightens his leg around her and draws her in closer, groaning out his desire. It’s wonderful, but it’s also overwhelming. He’s so gods damned sensitive, the head of his cock nearly purple with unspent arousal.
“I don’t know if I…” he whispers.
Ori slowly rolls one more time, brushing her hand along the side of his face and whispering into the opposite ear, “You’re all right, dearest. Whenever you’re ready to let go, I’m right here.”
He sputters out a tearful sound and arches into her, lifting his leg higher up to wrap along her hip. The adjusted angle makes him gasp, igniting the tension to build anew, higher and more maddening this time. With a whine, he grips her upper arm and turns his face toward hers.
“Love me,” he says, breath warm on her cheek. “Love me, Ori, love me.”
“I will love you so well,” she says, closing the distance to kiss him deep. “You remember our word?”
“Yes,” he breathes, nodding a little for good measure.
“Say it for me, one time,” she says, voice soothing.
Without hesitation, he says, “Weavemoss.”
Ori kisses him again. “Any reason we want to stop, no matter what, that’s our word.”
He presses hard into the kiss, then says, “I understand. Now fuck me again.”
“Whatever my sweetheart wants,” she purrs, pivoting her hips to set a slow, reverent pace.
It’s too much and not enough at once, sticky-sweet with an edge. He wants to both melt into the feeling and cling to it desperately.
He hadn’t exactly been quiet before, but he’d maintained a sliver of control over his utterances. This time, he doesn’t have the capacity to care. He leverages himself to grind back against her, whining and huffing and groaning out his pleasure.
“That’s it,” she says, her voice winded from the exertion. “You’re incredible. What a good, beautiful boy you are.”
“I am,” he agrees, huffing out a delirious laugh. She adjusts her angle slightly and gives him a series of quick, shallow thrusts followed by a long roll and he loses himself.
“Gods, arsurinyas, gods,” he gasps, head thrown back. “How are you doing that?”
“Practice,” she huffs, leaning heavily on her arms and increasing her pace.
From there, it’s only a simple of matter of time before his pleasure catches him again, the thread drawing tighter and tighter until it snaps once more. The whole of his pelvis and abdomen goes sore from its clenching, but in the way that feels like the high after a run, after a kill, after an unbelievable fuck.
And still, and still, his bullocks ache with unspilled seed. He’s nearly mindless from it.
While he comes down from his latest high, he feels Ori pull out and he tries to tell her no, come back, it’s so much but it’s also so wonderful, but he needn’t have worried. She takes his hands and uses her bodyweight to pull him up to sitting. He lolls there, blissed out and feral with need. 
“Think you can turn around for me, love?” she asks, giving his hands one more gentle yank. “I’ve got you.”
He groans and does as asked, thoughts too muddled to argue or attempt anything but her request. His leg is heavy as he lifts it and flips himself, feet now on the floor as he puts his palms on the edge of the bed. Ori approaches behind him and he barely registers her spreading the towels out under him, but then her hands are rubbing his back and he goes jelly-boned under her touch, a completely pliant mess.
“Ready?” she says. He feels her palms spread over his hips, holding him together.
He arches his deep in response. “Yes,” he breathes, barely audible.
When she enters him again, his mind hollows out and he instantly clenches down around the toy. She gives his body a moment to settle before she begins to move again. Her hands slide from his hips to the divots in his lower back, her thumbs massaging into the muscles there in the most deliriously enjoyable way, relaxing him and drawing a reedy purr from his throat.
Ori presses her breasts up against his back as she rocks into him yet again, kissing between his shoulder blades. He whimpers, overstimulated and desperate and continually dripping onto the towels below. 
“You’re being so good,” she croons. “Such a good boy. Aren’t you?”
“Yes, yes,” he sighs, rocking back into her. “I’ll be whatever you want.”
Another kiss on his spine. “Good boys get good things.”
His hair is damp with sweat, breath puffing from his lips in his lustful haze. “Please,” he whispers. 
Ori rolls up on her tiptoes and puts her mouth against his ear. She gives the lobe a little suck and enjoys his shuddering whine before she says, “Good boys get to come on my cock thrice.”
“Fuck,” Astation gasps, dropping his chin and feeling his cock pulse and twitch, his balls pulling in tight. 
Then Ori reaches around and takes him in hand and his mouth falls open with a guttural moan.
The remaining oil on her hand and his own slick spread under her touch, offering a splendid glide as she jerks him, making sure to brush up against the slit with her thumb as she works.
“Aaaa-aaaahh,” he manages as he thrusts into her hand.
She follows his hips with hers and together the set a rhythm, him fucking into her hand while she fucks into him, a perfect storm. There’s no drawing this out. He’s already hurtling toward the end, eyes squeezed shut until tears trail from the corners.
“Ori, gods, Ori,” he whimpers. “I’m going to cuh- gods-”
Like a shiver, it runs down the length of him from the crown of his head all the way to his toes. He breaks apart like so much stardust, his release spilling out in an incredible rush, then again, again, and again as Ori pumps him through it until it slows to a trickle. Everything goes soft and quiet, his body sated at last.
He doesn’t speak and neither does she, their heavy breathing the only sound. Ori wraps her arms around him and holds him close, peppering kisses over his shoulders, his back, his neck. Slowly, softly, she trails her fingers over his lower belly, soothing the soreness there.
When she pulls out, the only thing he feels fit to do is drag his burdensome body up onto the mattress and collapse into the pillows. He hears her soft laugh as she removes her harness and collects the messed towels, setting everything aside for a proper cleaning later. She takes some time to wipe herself down with water and mild soap from the basin, then brings a damp cloth over to do the same to him.
His breathing slows as she turns him onto his back, helping him tent a leg so she can carefully clean up the oil and spend from his skin. Astarion blows a breath between his lips and cracks his eyes open to look up at her, curls falling limp and sweaty against her head. Her skin is dewy with lust and exertion.
It’s been a minute since anyone’s fucked him so well, so selflessly. He reaches up a hand to brush against the side of her face, taking the cloth from her and tossing it aside so he can guide her down into his waiting kiss. They’re drunk on one another, lips and tongue and touch.
They make out for several minutes before Astarion runs a hand down her body and between her legs, finally. He finds her completely drenched with slick.
“Hmmm,” he hums against her mouth. “Someone enjoyed that almost as much as I did, I think.”
“What can I say,” she sighs, hitching her breath as he runs a finger along the seam of her. “It’s a bit of a rush to get your love off three times in a row, especially when he looks so pretty coming apart.”
“I can relate,” he says, voice low. He reaches around to palm her just below her arse and pulls her up higher. “Get up here.”
She chuckles. “This was for you, sweetheart.”
“The hells it was,” he lilts, pulling her with slightly more insistence. “If you think I’m going to let you get away with all that without making you scream your pretty heart out, you don’t know me at all.”
“Promises,” she teases. But she relents, letting him guide her as he scoots himself down the mattress and lifts her leg until she’s settled directly on his face.
He runs the entire flat of his tongue along her heated cunt, savoring the moaning gasp she makes, and moves his hands up over her sides, counting every rib as he goes before he lowers one hand to her waist and palms her breast with the other. Ori offers little resistance before she begins rutting against his mouth, chasing relief he’s all too happy to offer.
His tongue works magic as he curls it up into her, stroking along the rough place just inside before drawing back up to lave at her clit.
Ori puts her hand over his on her chest, making him squeeze her tighter there as she begins to bounce a bit. “Gods damn it, you have such a sweet mouth,” she pants.
He smiles and continues to work her, using everything at his disposal to light her up – the flats of his teeth, the whole of his tongue, the suction of his lips. Her clit goes pebble-hard under his ministrations and she whines out his name.
“Gods, gods, gods,” she huffs out between bounces, her voice tight with need. “Gods, Astarion, that’s so fucking…”
He redoubles his efforts, moving both hands to the globes of her arse and gipping hard so he can help her fuck his face to her content. And she does, she does and she does until her thighs quake.
Astarion rolls three circles in quick succession, a delightful swirl that he knows will drive her mad, and she throws her head back and gives a rewarding, sobbing cry to the ceiling as she comes, her slick coating his chin.
After, they lay side by side naked on top of the covers, Astarion wrapped around her from behind with a hand still palming one of her breasts, softly snoring.
They don’t wake until midnight, and they don’t talk about the fact that for all his disdain for heroes, he certainly doesn’t mind being fucked by one.
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sweetiecutie · 1 year
Note
AHHHH I NEED MORE KEEGAN IN MY LIFE PLEASE could you write some Keegan h/c?
Pairing: Keegan P Russ x fem! Reader
Warnings: just general stuff, language, bad driving, NSFW under the cut, mdni, spit kink
A/n: it’s not a lot, but it’s better than nothing😌 Keegan is such a bad bitch, he deserves more attention
• Starting off - I’m pretty sure that Keegan would want a civil partner; someone not related to military and actually as far as possible from all the war stuff. First of all, it’s to avoid having constant fear of losing you on the battlefield - it’s a highly dangerous job, sometimes coming out alive is not only a matter of skills, but also pure luck. Secondly, the amount of trauma and emotional damage Keegan carries is more than enough for two people - he needs someone grounded and, well, more stable, someone who will be able to give him a piece of blissful domestic life, faraway from all the constant war Keegan lives in.
• Always referring to you as his girl in conversations with other people or when introducing you to someone new. “That’s Y/n - my girl” “That’s for my girl, she likes pink” “My girl doesn’t like the smell of smoke so I’m trying to quit”. It’s also a way of showing everyone that you’re his - letting others know from the very beginning that you’re taken and no one better try anything with his precious girl, otherwise a few bones will be broken.
• Gives off annoying older brother vibes. He’ll always playfully nag you, and it’ll only become worse once you start dating. Placing stuff on the highest shelves just to watch you struggle to get it yourself, drawing some silly doodles on your notes, messing with your makeup that you spent nearly an hour organising neatly, punching your favourite plushie just to get a rise out of you. And of course, constant bickering! “Keegan, can you pass me that book?” - “Fuck no” *passes the book*. “Keegan, I want some sushi” - “Well shit, what am I supposed to do about that?” *already placing an order online on his phone*
• Another amazing driver here. Keegan has horrible road rage, hitting the car horn aggressively, yelling most intricate insults out the window at whoever that happened to piss him off. I also have a feeling the he drives really fast and reckless, teasing you whenever you ask him to go slower - so you better always buckle up. And yes, he definitely got in a few minor accidents - scratching or leaving indents on other car’s bumper.
NSFW here~*•.
• And while we’re speaking of driving - just imagine giving him a sloppy noisy head while being stuck in a long traffic. Keegan is seething with hot anger, rolling his eyes on other drivers, lack of nicotine adding to his distress. And here’s a sweet lovely you trying your best to make Keegan feel at least a tad bit better, soothing his booming annoyance with your silky tongue swirling around throbbing shaft, cheeks hollowing to provide stronger suction, allowing Keegan to set the pace. And it seemed to work wonders on him - his nape against the headrest of driver’s seat, pretty blue eyes half lidded, staring at the car ceiling, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard, feeling your throat wrapped around his cock.
• Oh, how nasty he is. Biggest spit kink ever - ordering to open your mouth nice and wide just to spit a thick globe of saliva in it, then closing your jaw and making sure that you swallow it. Will gladly let you spit in his mouth as well; loooves messy wet kisses - either during make out session or after you gave him head, slurping up your spit mixed with his cum from your lips and chin. Very often uses his spit as lube, or telling you to spit in his palm before spreading it all over his needy leaking cock, plunging it deep inside your warmth.
• A horndog. You never have to ask him if he’s in a right mood because yes, he is. He is always in the mood to fuck. Now, he always lets you know that it’s totally fine if you say no - Keegan will never pressure or guilt trap you into any kind of intimacy, no means no. You can always cuddle up together or do something fun like cooking, dancing or simply dorking around. But if your sexdrive happens to match his - oh boy, I’m sorry for your neighbours. Let’s just say - there’s hardly any surface in your flat that you didn’t fuck on.
• It’s nothing new, but this mug is cocky. Like, I don’t think he has unimaginably big dick - not small for sure, but not huge as well; but the way he works with it - a chef’s kiss. Keegan just knows how to angle his hips to massage that one spot within you, how you like your clit to be played with, how he quickly discovers and memorises all the sweetest spots of your body. “Aw, cumming already? I barely touched you, does it feel this good?” - he’d purr, curling three of his long fingers inside of your needy cunny, thumb flicking swollen clit while hot mouth sucks on perked up nipples.
• Daddy kink? Daddy kink😏
Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is very important, give writers some love<3
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eat-limes-bitches · 8 months
Text
Attitude Adjustment
PAIRING: Female! Chiropractor! Reader x Avenger!Bucky Barnes
SUMMARY: Pain affects everyone. Even 106-year-old assassins
WARNINGS: Smidge of Angst, mostly Fluff. Grumpy! Bucky. Some of Bucky's negative self-image but very little. Talks of chiropractic adjustment so cracking joints but nothing too bad. Sam's a little shit. Probably poorly written but oh well.
Word Count: 1006
A/N: Hey guys! I know the last two posts have been really heart-wrenching so here is something a little light-hearted to counteract what I'm gonna be posting next. I am going to be starting chiropractic school in the fall and I know that it has really helped me with some chronic pain stuff that I have going on even with my crazy high pain tolerance so thought Bucky could use some adjustments too!
Enjoy! <3
Dividers by Rookthorne
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Y/n watched Bucky from across the gym, analyzing his movements as he tried to continue his set. There was a slight dip in his step as he walked over to the weight plates and a subtle clench of his jaw as he lifted the plate onto the bar. Maybe he’s just sore, she mused as she returned to her stretches. The room around her was slowly disappearing when there was a loud bang and a shout. She jumped, eyes flying open as she shot her gaze across the room where Bucky held his ribs under his left arm while Sam laughed. 
 “What’s wrong, tin man? Age finally catching up to you?” Bucky shot a nasty glare at the man, 
“You won’t be laughing when I drown you in the creek,” Bucky growled as he took a threatening step toward Sam.
“Woah, woah, woah!” Sam placated as he took a step backward. “I was just messin’ with ya man!” Bucky just glared at him again and knocked his metallic shoulder against Sam’s as he stormed off towards the exit. Sam made eye contact with Y/n, shrugging his shoulders and motioning towards the door as if he were saying, ‘Get a load of that guy’. Y/n shook her head and made a mental note to check on him later.
Sometime later after Y/n had finished her workout, she ventured to Bucky’s room, pausing just outside the door. Steadying herself with a breath, she gently rapped on the door. There was a deep groan from the other side of the door, and before Y/n was able to make some space between her and the door, it flew open, revealing a rather disgruntled Bucky, eyes narrowing as he took in her form. 
“What.” He grunts out glare unwavering from her smaller form in the doorway. Y/n steadied herself with a reminder that he was in pain and to not let it get to her. She instead matched his gaze.
“You’re in pain.” She stated cooly observing his reaction as he shifted weight off of his left leg, rolling his eyes.
“Right, ‘cause you can tell from across a room.” He scoffed. Y/n let out an indignant huff as she looked him up and down.
“You’re favoring the left side of your body, and anyone can see that. Your hips are crooked from compensating the extra weight on the left side of your body. You have a slight limp which is throwing your body further out of alignment, and since Steve pinned you during training on Tuesday, you’ve been protecting your left ribcage which was then further aggravated from your bench pressing today.”
Bucky stared at her, eyes wide. “H-how do you know all that?” Y/n’s gaze softened as she gave him a gentle smile. 
“Buck, I’m a chiropractor, I’m trained to see these things. I can help you feel better if you’d like.” She noticed the hesitance in his eyes as he thought about her offer. 
“You know you are allowed help right?” She whispered, placing a hand on his arm. 
Bucky searched her eyes for a moment, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for her to pull away and just laugh, tell him it was all a joke, and walk away but it never came, she just stood there, hand spreading warmth through his arm, smile sending butterflies straight to his stomach. Letting out a breath, he nodded, letting Y/n take his hand and lead him to her office. 
The room was bright, the afternoon sun coming in through the window painted everything in a golden glow. Y/n motioned to the table in the middle of the room.
“Here, lay face down for me.” She said gently, patting the table. Bucky did as he was told,  and melted into the comfortable cushion as Y/n danced her fingers up and down his spine. She paused at the very base of his neck moved her fingers towards his shoulder and gently pressed down. Bucky yelped slightly and jerked away from her touch. 
“I’m sorry Buck, I won’t do it again but that just confirmed my suspicion,” Y/n murmured as she walked around the table, placing the heel of her palms on his upper back.
“Yeah, and what's that?” Bucky grumbled, starting to regret his decision. 
Y/n gave a sharp thrust, and a satisfying pop rang out through the room, startling Bucky. “Your first rib was out of place.” Bucky pushed himself up to look at Y/n wide-eyed. 
“My first rib is out of place!” She just smiled.
“Was. I put it back. That's what that sound was.” 
This went on for a few more minutes. Y/n would palpate different parts of his body, there would be a pop, and Bucky make some sort of surprised noise. Eventually, Y/n made the last adjustment and helped Bucky sit up before taking a seat next to him. 
“How do you feel?” 
Bucky rolled his shoulders before stretching both of his arms above his head. His eyes widened as he snapped his head to meet Y/n’s gaze. Shock was written all over his features as he stood up and wasn’t greeted with the sharp sting that he had grown accustomed to in his lower back. 
“Wow, that-that’s amazing!” He sent a heart-stopping grin in Y/n’s direction. 
“Thank you, Y/n I feel much better.” He said sincerely, taking Y/n’s hand in his as thanked her. Y/n blushed.
“Of course Bucky. Anytime.”
The pair wandered into the main living room where everyone was gathered. Bucky gave Y/n’s hand one last squeeze before strolling over to Steve and putting him in a headlock, laughing and carrying on. Y/n smiled as she watched them when Sam wandered over.
“What did you do to him?” He asked. Y/n just smiled, not taking her eyes off of Bucky, who was now arm-wrestling Tony who was using his suit.
“Nothing really just gave him an attitude adjustment.”
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nkjemisin · 1 month
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Hello NK Jemisin! I'm a huge fan of yours, and I wanted to thank you for writing all of the books you've written, and doing all that you do. You're really awesome and you are doing important work! :) I had a long question, if you have time to answer! What's your commentary on creating fantasy cultures, using real ones as inspiration? You've done this before in your stories, and I wanted to know if you had any guidance on doing it well. I'm writing my first novel right now (fantasy!) and am dealing with a surprising amount of guilt regarding using real cultures as a basis for my fake ones. On one hand, I want to create a really unique fantasy world, not the bog-standard European stuff. It's not only more interesting to me, but I also admittedly want to use my story to help introduce people to concepts that might be helpful in the real world, help readers understand what these real people go through and perhaps inspire change. On the OTHER hand, I don't know if it's 'my place' to do so (I'm Black btw, but I'm not just writing about Black-coded fantasy characters). And I'm worried about representing people in a harmful way, even if it's by accident. I'm even hung up about names! Should I use names from real languages related to the cultures I'm inspired by, or should I just make them up to emphasize that, while yes these people are clearly inspired by real cultures, they are ultimately *their own* thing. I'm really conflicted on this and am hoping you can offer some feedback and/or commentary. Sorry for the long ask. Either way, have a great day and I look forward to whatever work you do next!
If I can rephrase what you're saying here, it sounds like you're concerned about cultural appropriation -- specifically, which cultures you get to "borrow from" and "remix," how much remixing you can do before you've done damage, how to depict people from cultural backgrounds other than your own, etc.
If that's what you're asking, then there are whole schools of thought on how to "appropriate appropriately." A lot of thinking on this has evolved in the past few years, for good and for ill; Own Voices, for example. (The short version: the Own Voices hashtag movement started as a grassroots attempt to get marginalized voices telling the stories of their own cultures, because there's been a nasty trend of only white/Western/Anglophone/etc. authors publishing books about those cultures. The problem? Some publishers and readers started acting as if marginalized writers weren't allowed to do anything but stories in their own cultures -- a restriction, instead of an inclusion/correction. Worse, publishers, etc started using it as a marketing shorthand, in ways that were just... not good. They made it weird, basically.) But I'm still fond of the approach that's in Writing the Other, by Nisi Shawl and Cynthia Ward. It's centered on ethnicity/race, but a lot of its approach can be extrapolated to culture. There's too much good stuff in this book to summarize it easily, but you should read it instead of a summary anyway -- it's short.
I don't see the point of guilt, when it comes to something like this. Guilt is what you feel when you've done something wrong, and admiring another culture enough to want to tell a story featuring it isn't wrong. However, there are things you need to do -- research, conversations, considerations of power dynamics -- to reduce the harm you might end up doing by telling that story as an outsider. And note that no matter what you do, though, you might still end up doing harm. (Even people writing about their own culture can end up doing that.) If you fuck up, apologize, figure out what went wrong, and try to do better next time. That's really all you can do.
And then write whatever the hell you want. There's a persistent pressure on Black writers to only cover certain subjects, certain settings; nah. We get to have range, too. You've just got to put in the work to do it well.
Good luck.
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simplydozing · 16 days
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲
Stanley Pines x Reader Your husband Stanley sacrifices himself to save everyone from Weirdmageddon, but loses his memory during the process. You try to get him to remember you, but it doesn’t end the way you want it to. Word Count: 1457 || AO3 ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆
Here you all stand, in the heavy wooded patch the Mystery Shack was located. The place you called home was now destroyed, bits of debris scattered around you all.
 It was a long, gruesome battle, but you and the townspeople came together and overcame Bill and his plan to take over the world.
 But it came with a price.
 Stan, the once berated and shunned man, switched places with Ford. He gave himself away to save everyone and everything he loved. You begged him not to, that you all could figure something else out. But the back of your mind knew there was no other way.
 And when you saw the memory gun aimed at him, you had to look away.
 When you looked back, he was gone.
 His eyes were so empty when he finally came to.
 He looked around, still on his knees. It was like he never saw this place before. You’ve only seen him this confused once before, and that’s when you said you wanted to be with him more than anything. He never thought he’d ever have someone like you, so hearing this initially stunted him.
 But now, he’ll never remember that. He no longer shares the same memories you do.
 He wasn’t the man you came to know.
“Wha- Where am I?”
 Your hands trembled as they made their way to cover your mouth. Your heart sank, and your whole body became lead. You were a statue, watching his face contort when he stares at these strangers in front of him.
“Who are you all?!” He falls back and scoots away from the group.
 You wanted to be the first to help him, but your feet couldn’t move.
 The twins eased their way to him to not scare him any more than he is now.
“Grunkle Stan…”  Mabel’s little voice cracked.
“You don’t remember us?” Dipper placed a hand on his arm.
 Stan shook his head. What are these kids talking about? What is a “Grunkle?”
 Mable couldn’t take it anymore, and broke down. 
 You were about to do the same. 
 Dipper crawled to her and hugged her tightly, allowing himself to let a few tears slip but keeping his face covered with the brim of his hat.
 Stan’s eyes darted from the kids to you and the person next to you that looked just like him.
 Soon, his gaze focused on you. His eyes grew wider and they shimmered like they did all those years ago when you first started talking to each other.
 He whistles, catcalling you like used to when he would walk in on you changing or making dinner.
“Hey there, sugar. Who’s your friend?”
 Normally, you’d laugh or scoff at his flirty antics, but this time, it brought tears to your eyes. He wasn’t pretending or messing around. This was his reality now. He really was meeting you for the first time.
 You look at Ford. Nothing was said, but it was clear that it was your turn to talk to him.
 You turn back. You wipe the tears out the corners of your eyes. You mentally prepare yourself, huffing to yourself and swallowing thickly. Once you thought you were okay, you slowly made your approach, one foot dragging in front of the other.
 The closer you got, the more he looked pleased.
 You hoped and prayed with each step you took that you’d jog something. Anything.
 You sat in front of him with your knees tucked under you. You swear your heart is going to explode out of your chest.
 He smiles. That goofy grin also used to make you laugh.
 You take a deep breath and anxiously release it.
 He has to remember you.
“Stanley, baby,” you begin.
“Do you know where you are right now?”
“No, but it’s a lot better with you here.” He clicks his tongue and lifts his eyebrows. If this was some sort of sick joke, you’ll slap that nasty smirk clean off his face and go for Ford after.
Your eyes start to pool again.
 Please, let this be a joke.
“Stan, please,” you mutter.
 You’re at a loss at what to do. You don’t want to believe it, but maybe he’s too far gone. Your denial just has to save him. You were his salvation at one point, how could he not remember you?
 You’ve loved him ever since high school when everyone saw him as a lowlife. It didn’t help that your locker was a couple doors down from his.
 He was your lab partner in chemistry. 
 It’s amazing how a lab partner turned into a life partner.
Wait…
 Your marriage! Of course! You are married to him!
 A spark of hope electrocuted through you.
“Stan, look.” You jump into action, grasping his hand with the gold band on his ring finger.
“We’re married! See?” You bring your hand up next to his. Your ring band is thinner than his, with diamonds lining the middle of it.
 Staring at it and seeing how the light catches it makes you think back to that day.
 It was a courthouse wedding. No one else showed up, but you both knew it had to be that way. You didn’t mind at all. When the deed was done and you two were official, he apologized and promised that when the right time comes he’d give you the best wedding you could ever dream of.
 But being with him was already a dream come true.
 A half smile appeared on your face. You didn’t need a wedding to solidify your love for him. You didn’t need the “official” and legal marriage. But he was old fashioned and wanted to do things right by you.
 Too bad he can’t even figure out your name.
“Woah. Today just keeps gettin’ better and better!” He looks from the rings to you.
 Your chest expanded. Could it be? Could he be coming back?
“…Who are you again?”
 These words were the dagger that stabbed and shattered your heart. You physically could no longer hold yourself together.
 You whisper his name one more time. This can’t be how this ends. He’s just messing around with you. There’s no way he doesn’t remember you. You were sure of it. You thought this would work. You knew this had to work. You can’t let go of him. You won’t let go of him. You-
 Your quivering body launches, enveloping him in an embrace that he’ll never feel again.
 You weep.
 Your lover is gone and there’s nothing you can do about it.
“…I love you so much, Stanley Pines,” you can barely make out. Your throat is closing in on itself and your face feels hot.
“What is going on? Was it something I said?” This causes you to hold him closer.
 Eventually, Ford is the one to drag you away. You put up a fight, stringing together a bunch of “no”s before wailing his name at the top of your lungs. You needed to believe that if you held him longer that he’d magically turn back. Ultimately, that wasn’t the case. What’s done is done.
 You scream and cry and beg whatever being was out there to answer your prayers.
 Ford crouches down to your curled up frame and does his best to console you. You’re on your hands and knees, nails digging into the earth as you heave. He throws his arms around you and mumbles apologies you didn’t think you’d hear in the first place.
 “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” fills your ears.
 You feel him around you, breathing catching in his throat and fingers twitching. He’s going into hysterics along with you.
 He lost his brother too, after all.
 The fact that he’s still wearing Stan’s suit…
 You clench his sleeve and pull yourself up, now grabbing the lapels and sobbing in his shoulder. It still smells like him.
 You feel the wetness of Ford’s tears on the side of your face. He palms the back of your head. He rocks you to try and soothe you, resisting the urge to burst for your sake.
“He’s a hero,” he rasps.
 The four of you continued to mourn. Stan is left dumbfounded at the sight of everyone grieving. He thinks he should do something, but he can’t piece together what. He doesn’t want to get involved and accidentally interrupt you all.
 For the rest of the town, it was a day of celebration. For the Pines family, it was a day of loss.
 It was two sides of the same coin, both sides being free from Bill’s reign.
You don’t know what happens next. You just hope you and the rest can work together and one day bring your dearest Stanley’s memories back.
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