#basically just nailing down how i draw all of them

[brain-rot-central]

Up In Smoke

A/N: Basically he smokes weed and has a really good orgasm. That's the whole fic. Very self-indulgent, but whatever. Hope you all enjoy!

Rating: light E Word count: 3.5k Pairing: Spawn Astarion x Fem!Tav Warnings: 18+, dubcon for being under the influence, drug use, alcohol mention, breeding kink, praise kink, male masturbation, mutual pining, trauma mention, intimacy issues

Summary: The gang finally reaches Baldur's Gate. Astarion isn't handling it so well, knowing he's so close to Cazador again. Tav makes an innocent suggestion that he go down to the shops and find something that can help relieve some of his pent up anxiety.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he leans over to further inspect the small clear jar within his hands. Inside, a dried cluster of pungent flowers resides. Their faint smell lingers about the small tavern suite. He shakes the jar slightly, following how each bud bounces between the glass.

They've finally made it to Baldur's Gate, and gods what a relief. Not to say he didn't enjoy getting his hands messy, but there was never quite enough he could do to dig out the dirt caked within his nails. He dreamed of soaking in a hot bath for weeks.

Yet, being back in Baldur's Gate also means something more sinister.

It means he’s closer to confronting him.

His old master.

Cazador.

He panics the night before, screaming whenever he'd slip into trance. Horrid memories play behind his eyes. He feels paralyzed within them – the feeling of a hand closing around his neck, a dagger slicing into his back, shackles around his arms and legs, unable to move within the confines of the coffin he lay in for a year.

Tav wakes him eventually, holding him close within their warm embrace. She lulls him back to sleep until he slips into a more peaceful trance. When they awake the next morning, Tav proposes he go down to the shops and look for a sleep aid, or something that could potentially help quell the overwhelming sense of anticipation building within him.

“I only wish for you to be at peace,” she suggests. “You deserve it. Especially now.”

So, he does exactly that.

Perusing the various carts and shops, Astarion inevitably finds an apothecary. He's been to this one before; many, many years ago. He doesn't quite remember the shopkeeper, but feels as if it's the same woman, just now older. 

She's nice enough, giving a warm greeting as he enters the store. The smell of patchouli incense fills his nostrils and almost instantaneously Astarion feels some of the tension melt off his shoulders. 

He explains, in very vague terms, what it is he's experiencing to the shopkeeper. She holds out a glass jar filled with herbs. When he raises a questioning eyebrow, she clarifies, “This is known to help calm even the most fussy of ogres.” She smiles, nudging the jar closer to him. “Go on, take it. You won't regret it.”

With a quick nod of his head, Astarion pays for the herbs and dips out of the shop, stashing the small jar within a pocket of his armor. He reconvenes with Tav and the others; they're to address some sort of problem with a wizard prodigy at Sorcerous Sundries. He sighs audibly as Gale rambles on about the various tomes and wealths of knowledge the store holds. Gale rarely ever lets up when this sort of mood takes him. He briefly wishes he had a scroll of Silence to cast over the wizard.

With the pompous brat slain, the crew returns to the Elfsong Tavern to share a hot meal. Astarion nurses a glass of wine while the others share various plates of grilled meats, vegetables, and fish. Lae’zel offers him the drippings of her steak; he politely declines, though the smell causes his stomach to rumble. He simply chases the sensation away with more wine.

They return to their shared suite within the tavern. The party makes a joint decision that Astarion and Tav share the private room. They aren't the only two having relations, but they are the more… rambunctious couple. Both retire to the bedroom, Tav drawing a bath for herself while Astarion rests on the edge of the bed, as he is now, studying the small glass jar. 

He dares a quick whiff of the herbs, bringing the jar to his face. His face screws up tight, wincing at the offensive odor. “Smells like a godsdamned skunk,” he scoffs. He stares into the jar again.

Fool’s Tongue. 

He’s partaken before at the behest of a client. It was an important brokerage between Cazador and some far-off noble. There wasn’t much choice in the matter for Astarion. But yet, this encounter was a touch better than the others. To this day, Astarion is unsure if it was due to the drug or the man himself. He recalls the comforting embrace of the nobleman with slight fondness. At least the man tried. Not many others did.

Astarion reaches into the small satchel on his hip and pulls out a wooden pipe. He lifted it from Halsin earlier in the evening at dinner. The wood elf becomes soft once drink is involved, making him all the more easy to target. He’ll return it by morning, Astarion promises himself. He may even leave the druid a small token of appreciation for letting him borrow it, should this all work out.

Placing the pipe down onto the comforter, Astarion begins to unlatch his cloak. He lays the jar of herbs down next to the pipe and stands, letting his cape fall to the floor. He works on his armor next, until he’s down to his underthings. Bending down, he begins rummaging through his pack on the floor for his camp clothing. He slips them on, leaving his shirt untucked, and sits back down on the bed.

Astarion picks up the pipe and lays it between pressed-together thighs. It acts as a makeshift support, allowing him to open the glass jar of herbs and retrieve a single nugget. Closing the jar, he places it back down onto the bed, and begins breaking the herbs into smaller pieces to fill Halsin's pipe.

Raising the pipe to his lips, Astarion summons a small flame to the tip of his finger. He stares down the length of the pipe, mustering the resolve to continue. He hears Tav’s voice in his head, as well as that of the old shopkeeper. With a sigh, he brings his finger to the herb, pulling gently on the pipe until it begins to burn.

Smoke fills his lungs a bit too quickly, and he rips the pipe from his mouth. He coughs loudly and a bit dramatically, before finally taking a gasping breath in.

“Astarion!” Tav calls from the washroom. He can hear the sound of water sloshing around in a tub. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine, darling!” he calls back. “Not to worry,” he adds in a mumble under his breath, mostly to himself. He surveys the contents of the pipe, bringing the mouthpiece to his lips once more. Again he summons a small flame to the herb, inhaling more shallowly this time as to not scorch the back of his throat.

He holds in the hit, leaning back onto the bed. Outstretching his arms he lets the pipe rest gently on the bed as he blows out the smoke. He coughs softly – better than the first time.

A few moments pass without so much as a sound. Astarion begins to wonder if perhaps the herbs are stale. It isn't until he rolls over that he notices the first sign.

The bed is soft. Inviting. Astarion is acutely aware of how the pillow top envelopes his form. He lays flat on his back again, sighing. His eyes slip closed. An unusual warmth rushes over him, tickling his skin. It feels like he's laying in the sun and suddenly he's transported back to the forest. To the morning after.

He remembers waking up to the morning sunlight bathing his skin. He wakes up slowly, slipping back into his leathers. Tav still sleeps; he moves as swiftly as possible to not wake her. She was beautiful, even then. Naive, yes. He didn't have the best of intentions. But, she was beautiful. And infuriatingly pragmatic.

Another sensation begins to light. Astarion doesn't recognize the feeling right away. He opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling, a surge of heat rushing to his face. He swears his chest thumps with the beating of his undead heart. He stares into the lines of the ceiling, tracing the patterns of wood lining the wall. His eyes fall upon a knot; they slip closed again.

Tav straddles his lap while he lays out on the ground. Astarion’s hands hold her thighs, guiding her hips as she rocks back and forth over him. He travels up the expanse of her abdomen, passing over her navel and up to her swaying breasts. Her hair cascades down her shoulders in loose curls, his gaze continuing upward toward her face. Redded by the blush running across the bridge of her nose, her mouth hangs open in a silent gasp. She meets his gaze through heavy lids.

Astarion feels the flitter of a dormant ember ignite within his lower belly. His back arches off the bed as a gasp slips past his lips. This can’t be what he thinks it is… could it? No, certainly not. He’s surely lost the ability to feel this way without necessity. Without a performance. Without it being a bargaining chip of some kind.

A pulling behind his navel has his hips twitching in response and he feels warmth begin to pool between his legs. Gods, is he…

Aroused?

Is this truly unprovoked arousal that he feels? Astarion sees visions of Tav glistening after a bath; droplets of water sliding down tanned, freckled skin. He moans aloud and again his hips buck. His cock is beginning to stir, each rub against the confines of his leathers having him sliding his hands closer and closer to their waistband. He turns his head toward the direction of the washroom.

Astarion groans as his hand runs over the bulge in his pants and it dawns on him momentarily that it is, indeed his cock hardening at the thought of Tav naked. Her skin flushed from the warm water of the bath, hair wet, nipples pert, hips, thighs, cunt-

He's pulling his pants down quicker than he can manage, letting them pool around his ankles on the floor. He hisses as his fingertips brush the swollen length of his arousal, and he dares a quick glance between his legs. His cock has a reddish hue, similar to after he sups of Tav. It pulsates against his lower abdomen and he cautiously wraps a hand around his shaft.

It's not often he performs acts of pleasure upon himself. Usually his mind cages him off – scolds and berates him until he's too ashamed to continue. But with the influence of the Fool’s Tongue swimming within his consciousness, the voice is silent. The only thing Astarion feels is pleasure. Lust. Want. And openly; he openly wants to pleasure himself. And by the Gods, does it feel good.

He pulls up his shirt with the opposite hand to expose more of his abdomen and takes a few experimental jerks of his length. They're soft and slow; unhurried movements as he bathes in the pleasure rushing over his body. His eyes slip closed as he gives himself over to the sensation, hips bucking up each time his thumb passes his frenulum. Behind his closed lids he sees Tav again, kneeling between his legs, ready to take him within her inviting mouth. He moans wantonly as he focuses for a moment on his tip, trying to replicate the feeling of her suckling the head of him.

The door to the washroom opens, jolting Astarion from his thoughts. He makes no effort to cover himself, but instead waits patiently on the bed for Tav to discover the scene awaiting her. She exits the bathroom, running a towel through her hair, seemingly unaware of what has been occurring during her absence.

“I was thinking maybe we could mingle a bit with the others before calling it a night,” Tav suggests. She stands before the room's mirror, running a hand through her dampened locks. “How does that sound, Astar-” The rest of her sentence dies back in her throat as she observes him laying on the bed. “Oh,” is all she manages; a soft, strangled sound rising up from her chest.

He pants as he looks her over; she's wearing a simple, short beige dress. No brassiere, so her breasts fill the top of the dress naturally. It cinches at the waist with two drawstrings, while the rest flares out. The hem of the dress comes to right above her mid thighs, and Astarion swallows the sudden uptake in saliva pooling within his mouth. His cock twitches in his palm. “Y-you suggested I go to the shops,” he tries to explain. “Find something to help ease my trepidation.”

“I guess it was a success.” Tav replies, stepping closer. “I don't think I've ever seen you like this.”

Astarion catches a true blush rising to her cheeks as she studies him. As she stands before him, the scent of her arousal dances below his nose, and he groans. “It was, very,” he answers. “That d-dress is… nice,” he adds.

Tav smiles, stepping before him. “Is it?” she asks in a sultry tone. She grabs the hem of the dress and begins slowly pulling it up her thighs. “What about it do you like?”

Visions of her riding his lap flood his mind's eye. Astarion tosses his head back as he envisions taking her from behind, against the wall, on the floor – animalistic mating rituals between them both; rough, hard, fast. He can't help but suck in a sharp breath as he opens his eyes again to meet Tav’s gaze. He tries to answer her but no sound comes out.

With a smirk, she climbs onto the bed over him, hovering just above his cock. “What about the dress do you like, Astarion?” Tav reiterates. She's sure to leave her hips as far away from his hand as possible; she's aware of his intimacy issues, how delicate this situation is. She leans over him to place chaste kisses over his forehead. She smiles against his skin as he resumes tugging at himself with soft jerks of his hand.

“The convenience,” Astarion replies in a whisper. His desire is mounting, threatening to burn out of control unless release finds him soon. Tav laughs, and briefly drops her hips over the hand pumping his cock. They both moan as his knuckles brush between her slick, sending Astarion's mind reeling. “You're… you're n-not wearing-”

Tav nips gently at the pale elf’s ears, reveling in the instinctive bucking of his hips into her core. “No, I'm not,” she teases. She feels Astarion shudder beneath her and she licks the shell of his ear, moving quickly down to kiss the underside of his jaw. Tav brushes her center over his fingers again, this time deliberately passing over the tip of him.

He swallows thickly as a gasp escapes his parted lips. As hot as the thought of Tav riding his cock makes him, the shackles of his subconscious are threatening to yank his chain. “I can't, not all the way,” he pleads. Ghastly hands are threatening to enclose around the column of his throat. “Just this, please.”

Tav pulls away from him momentarily, her brow knit in concern. She studies his eyes – ruby red gems hooded over in lust. She nods, placing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Just this, then,” she says reassuringly.

Astarion sighs in relief and continues stroking himself in earnest, knuckles brushing now and again against her sex. He groans as her arousal mingles with his, slickening the palm of his hand to create a luscious glide. “Gods, how I wish I could,” he groans out.

“Could what?” Tav teases. Her breasts are pushing against his chest as it heaves with labored breath. She returns attention back to his ears, licking along its shell to nip gently at the tip.

Astarion's eyes roll to the back of his head as his body convulses in pleasure. “T-take you,” he admits through a shuddered breath. He twists his hand over the head of his cock in a specific rhythm, pulling a guttural groan from the back of his throat. “I think about it often.”

“Do you?” Tav raises a hand to cup the back of his head. She leans over, bringing her mouth close to his ear. “So do I,” she whispers. “It's not fair, you know. Having experienced you prior. Only to be cut off and denied any more.”

“You're one to talk,” he replies. He stares up at Tav, his mouth hanging agape. “D-do you think it's any easier for me? To want so carnally, only to have to deny myself?” He slides a hand up her thigh to hold her waist, guiding her down onto his core. They both sigh at the sensation as he takes the same hand and now threads it through her hair, pushing their foreheads together. “To see how the others look at you, knowing I cannot yet claim you for myself. It's… maddening,” he breathes against her lips.

Tav sighs. “Yet, here I am… in your lap. And not theirs.” She captures his lips in a chaste kiss, though Astarion surges forward. She slackens her jaw to allow him better access; like a man starved he explores the warm cavern of her mouth, tongue intertwining with hers.

He breaks the kiss with a pull of her bottom lip. “I promise that one day I will,” he speaks against her lips. Astarion pumps himself faster, feeling the coil behind his navel wind tighter. “And when I do, you’re not to leave my bed for days.”

Tav pulls her head back, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Days?” she reiterates, feigning innocence. “Do you wish to mate me, Astarion?” 

His back suddenly arches off the bed, a gasp slipping past his lips. His knuckles brush against her sex again. “Yes,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “Fully, properly, lavishly.” He's babbling now. Logic escaping him, replaced by a tempting carpet of depraved carnal lust that threatens to unravel at the seams.

Tav kisses him gently again. “Should I tell you a little secret?” she asks. She doesn't wait for a response before continuing. Sliding her face again to Astarion’s ear, she says quietly, “What if I were to tell you that you already have me?”

He blinks up at her in bewilderment. “H-how would that be?” he stammers. “I've barely done anything. I can hardly touch you without-”

“Because it's you,” Tav explains. “It's you I think of when I'm alone.” She shakes her head. “No one else.”

Astarion rushes forward again, capturing his lips in a desperate kiss. “...The Gods truly made you just to ruin me,” he says, pulling away with a huff. He closes his eyes as he twists his wrist over the swollen tip of his length again, a soft sigh falling from his lips.

“Are you close?” She speaks softly to him, rubbing the pad of her thumb over his cheek. “Would telling you how good you are to me help?”

The coil winds tighter in his lower belly at her praise. He hums, cock twitching in his palm, pre-fluid now gathering at his tip. “A-almost,” Astarion stammers again. “M-my ears, touch them again, please.”

With a giggle, Tav dips her head into the crook of his neck, kissing along his skin leading up to his ear. She rubs at his other with her opposite hand, lavishing delicate attention to each of their tips. “Have I ever told you how handsome you are when you reach your peak, Astarion?” she pants into his ear. “The way your mouth hangs open in a silent gasp, how your eyes roll to the back of your head.” She watches him throw his head back, his hand picking up speed as he strokes himself. Tav dips her head again to his neck, nipping gently at the exposed column of skin.

“I'm going… if you keep, a-ah,” Astarion insists, breathing ragged. His chest is heaving, the influence of the Fool’s Tongue and overwhelming lust threatening to consume him. He's on the edge, right at the precipice, almost there, just a touch more-

Tav drops her hips over him again and he seizes, hips bucking wilding up to meet her. She latches onto his neck and sucks, hard enough that he knows a mark will be present by morning. Suddenly Astarion is falling over the cliff, mouth dropping open in a drawn out groan. His vision blanks, thick ropes of his release paint his lower belly as he jerks himself through the last of his orgasm.

She kisses the tip of his nose as she climbs off, picking her towel up from off the floor. Astarion lay on the bed panting, the room still spinning around him. As he comes to, he opens his eyes to meet Tav, who holds out the towel to him. “Did that feel good?” she asks, curiously.

He nods before replying, “Quite. I've used Fool’s Tongue before, but it was nothing like this.”

“Hmm,” she hums as he takes the towel from her. “Perhaps I should join you, next time?”

He huffs a quick laugh as he wipes the release of his belly, giving Tav a genuine smile. “That would certainly be something.”

[euseokz]

@ sungchan — you’re my favorite drug, i always get the best highs out of you ;) . cws : unprotected sex . nipple sucking . creampie . some aftercare & cockwarming . wc : 0.7k+ . genre : smut

BOYFRIEND! SUNGCHAN who gets absolutely drunk on you anytime you fuck.

his eyes will get all glossy, heavy with arousal, all while his hips piston into yours mercilessly, the only thoughts clouding his brain always somehow related to his lust — how good you feel wrapped around him, how much he wants to cum inside you, how he can’t hold himself back while drilling into you even if he wanted to. he fucks you so well, hitting every spot he needs to make you cream around his cock while still begging for more, only fueling him further.

sungchan’s frame will be hovering over yours, one of his elbows propped by your side so he can hold himself up while his free hand is placed on your hip, his fingers digging into your skin. his gaze will be completely focused on where you two meet, on how well your cunt swallows him, the way your slick mixes with his pre-cum around his dick, leaving it with a thicker, glistening coat over it with each thrust. you’re absolutely soaked, and if that wasn’t enough to let him know you’re just as aroused as him, the way your pussy clamps down around him would give it away, the way your clit twitches begging for attention giving him no other choice but to press his thumb over the soft bud, drawing slow circles over it, his attention still mainly on his thrusts in and out of your hole though. sungchan’s almost mindless touch still heightnes your pleasure immensely, making your thighs tremble and your walls clench down harder around sungchan’s cock. it’s almost mesmerizing how focused he gets when he fucks you, his head slowly getting overtaken by thoughts of wanting to make you two cum as fast and as hard as possible.

it would be rare that he’d do so, but sometimes sungchan’s eyes would wonder elsewhere, leaving the sight of his cock drilling into you and usually following up to your face, wanting to see your expressions, to see how pretty you look taking him. you always handle it so well, moaning so prettily for him, he can’t help but also wanna see your fucked out face. he’ll praise you for it, rambling about how you’re his pretty girl, how proud he is that you take him so well, how beautiful you look all fucked out for him. it only boosts your own arousal, making you desire more of him, thirsty for everything sungchan will give you. he can’t help but feel his cock twitch deep inside you when he notices your expression, almost as if your determination and desperation for him only makes him also want you more. you’ll get absolutely lost on each other, so drunk off of your own lust for one another that, in that moment, absolutely nothing else matters, no fully coherent thoughts coursing through your brains.

sometimes, when he was getting closer and his thrust were getting sloppier, sungchan would drift his gaze towards your chest too, watching as your breasts bounced up and down in synch with his movements. he loved it, loved to watch every part of your body react to him — how your thighs trembled, how your stomach flexed, how your nails dug into his arm, how your back arched, and even how your boobs bounced. it was irresistible, such a pretty view, so he wouldn’t think twice before wrapping his lips around your perky nipples, sucking on them softly, basically absentmindedly, but still eliciting loud moans to escape from your lips because of it, that stimulation added with how his cock felt stretching you out, pushing in and out of you roughly, and with the how his thumb still pressed over your clit enough to make you reach your high, screaming his name shamelessly as pure bliss hit you like a train, each orgasm always somehow seeming greater than you remembered the last one sungchan gave you being.

noticing your state, and feeling how much tighter your pussy suddenly felt, sungchan too would reach his high, warm cum filling you up, painting your inside white while he still kept moving, starting to slow down to help you both ride out your orgasms. you’d both feel so drained by then, brains hazy and bodies feeling heavy, your minds still somehow only able to formulate thoughts about one another. sungchan would get so clingy by then, wanting to hold you, to feel you close to him. he’d stay in the same position, his lips no longer on your nipples but his head still resting on your chest, both of his arms lacing around your waist and his cock still inside you, softening wrapped around in your warmth, stopping his cum from spilling out.

[thegnomelord]

for the prompt game, if it's still open, maybe 8 with Ghost? maybe with hatefucking and at the point you're both at it's basically a routine but all of the nasty words and cruel moments are really just because you're both brutes that have trouble expressing emotions properly, and all you really want is just some kind of deeper connection with each other, but with your shitty use of words, arguing and eventual growling into into his mouth as you shove him down onto the nearest flat surface is the only way for you to get that. and perhaapps at one point, one of you, reader or ghost doesn't matter, let's something softer and more caring slip through the angry facade? ofc if you already have one for 8 or you just don't like this idea you can im really sorry and you can ignore me, no pressure and I love all your writing :')) <3

Okay anon holy shit this is GOOD! You should think of writing yourself like what I'm seeing in this prompt is good shit :D Play the game HERE

Prompt: "If this is a joke it isn't funny."

CW: NSFW, Sub Bot Ghost, Dom Top MReader, hatefucking, degradation, confessions, soft sex,

It always starts the same; Simon's roughly patting your shoulder and telling you to not cock it up, your equally harsh response for him to keep up with you, rough voices hiding the unsaid 'be careful's. Insults like 'dumbass', 'moron', 'dead weight' crackling over the radio when the other's pinned down by fire, the electric static and suppression fire muting the worry in your voice, the hint of care in Simon's tone.

And it always ends the same; harsh stares across the room while you debrief Price, casualty numbers turning into critiques of the other— you should have noticed the terrorist, Simon should have kept the sniper in mind — prickling barbs and venomed words turning into shoves and punches, leaving bruises on each other's skin instead of the kisses you want to lay down.

Soap loves comparing you to dogs, and that's what you are— animals; talking would kill you both so you end up expressing yourselves through teeth and claws. There's blood on your tongue as you push Simon onto the bed and he pulls you down with his teeth digging into your bottom lip, rough fingers pulling away clothes only to push into bruised flesh, drawing hisses and growls.

'I want you' Ghost wants to say, instead "Stop being a pussy," comes out, blunt nails dragging deep scratches down your back. 'I'm happy you're alive' "You fuck as bad as you fight." Simon tastes blood as he kisses you, both of you struggling to pin the other to the bed.

"Shut up." 'I missed you' you snarl and pin him on his front, trapping his massive arms behind his back so he has no support, his head pushed into the pillows and arse high in the air, your thigh parting his legs. You huff a laugh when you see his cock already hard, hanging uselessly between his thighs. "Slag, good for nothing but taking it up the ass." 'I care for you'.

'You're important to me' Simon swallows the blood and spit in his mouth, jerking in a half-hearted attempt to free himself. "'least ah have a use," he growls, chest stuttering for breath as you bear down even more weight on him. You push your fingers into his mouth to wet them and Simon bites down, loving you with his teeth first, the sting of pain binding you together.

"Yeah, as a cocksleeve." 'I'm sorry' You don't give him a warning, just pull your fingers from his mouth and push into his ass. It's only enough lube to not tear him, but the stretch hurts, burns, and Simon both loves and hates how this roughness makes his cock hard and heart flutter.

"That-hah-" Ghost pants into the sheets, eyes prickling with tears with how he tries to keep them open, body forced to submit to you as your fingers stretch him, fuck him, tenderly brushing against his prostate before pushing to the last knuckle, pain and pleasure burning up his spine. "-that's not true."

Pulling out your fingers you give him a sharp slap on his ass, "Sure is," You use what saliva you have on your hand to wet your cock, swirling the drool in your mouth before you spitting right on his hole for extra wetness, your sudden action making his spasming hole clench and relax reflexively. "Look at how you're clenching." You mount him, pushing your weight down on him until he can barely breathe, cock bobbing against his hole. "Acting like such a bitch!"

You ram in him to put emphasis on the word and Simon bites his tongue so hard it bleeds, resisting letting any noises out. He's never vocal in bed, no matter how hard you fuck him, how many bruises your hips leave on his ass or how many hickeys you lay on his throat, how often your balls slap against his, he never utters more than a low groan.

But he wants to; good god Simon wants to tell you how good you feel, how every brush of your cockhead against his prostate has him seeing stars, how much he loves feeling you pound into him, who bodies bound into one by such a primal connection. . . but he can't, his mouth clamps up when he tries and even if he manages to spit something out it just comes out as venom, earning him firm slaps on his ass and your weight bearing further down on him.

You spill into him, pinning him so hard beneath your weight he can barely breathe, only remembering to rub him into an orgasm when your balls are good and empty, cock plugging his hole full of your cum. Your hands are harsh, his panting ringing in your ears until his cock twitches and he cums onto the sheets beneath him, whole body shaking to hold his moans in.

You collapse onto him, just enough sense in your head to roll you two onto your sides so he isn't laying in his spend or suffocating beneath you. Uncomfortable silence rings in your ears as you pant, bile churning in your stomach; This is your usual, soon enough Simon will tell you to shove off, he'll get up, take a piss, and leave.

And this song and dance will repeat until one of you dies.

Even without sight you feel Simon open his mouth, vestiges of harsh words burning on his tongue. Maybe it's post-orgasmic bliss that makes you speak, "Hey," Your hands tighten around his middle, "Stay the night." You curl around him like a lover; something you know you're not.

He shuts his mouth so quickly you hear the 'click' of his teeth, whole body freezing because this is as new for him as it is for you. "If this is a joke," He growls, turns his head just enough for you to catch his glare. "It's not funny."

Your tongue burns with the usual words— 'Only joke here is you' — but you don't, instead a slow and low "I'm not kidding." escapes you, like something forbidden, something to keep secret lest you get divine punishment.

Simon's mind buffers like an old computer, too many thoughts stuffing his head that he can't understand a single one. This is too far removed from the usual, hummingbirds knocking on his skull as a warning. But his body relaxes while he's still thinking, a stagnant breath escaping his lungs. "Fine."

You think of saying something, but it's better not to. Instead you huddle closer to him, still connected in a carnal way but now it feels so much more. . . intimate. Your hands wander over his toros, a gentle exploration instead of a race for release, your fingers carding through his body hair down his happy trail and up again.

Simon's head tils back to give you access to his neck, your lips soft against his skin as you kiss the bruises you'd left, both of your bodies slowly moving to close the small space between you two, urged to share your warmth.

You shift your hips, only realizing you're hard again when Simon moans. Moans. "Sorry," You duck your head, hands gripping his hips to pull out but he stops you, a rough sound in his throat.

"No," Simon doesn't look at you though the blush across his face is easy to spot. "Keep going," Tilting his hips back into yours tears a moan from both of you. Your cum eases the slide in, his walls stretched and pliant, wetly sucking you in like a needy thing.

Another time you'd have laughed at how desperate he's acting, but the low moans and a little "Fuck, just like that," you earn by rolling your hips has your mind shutting off. You can't believe how vocal he's suddenly become, getting louder the slower and gentler you move your hips, your cock slowly pushing in and out of his hole.

You bury your head in his neck and blindly stroke his leaking cock, kissing the skin under your lips, your eyes closed shut as you thrust into him slowly, your tender and slow movements pulling moan after moan out of him. His hand winds back to cup the back of your neck, pulling you up just enough to give you an awkward kiss but it's sweet and raw and so desperate—

You don't notice he's cumming until his walls clamp down on you, Simon whispering "I love you," so soft and quiet under his breath that you don't hear him, too busy filling him up a second time, but your mind buzzes with warmth all the same.

You lay as you were, somehow so exhausted that even moving an inch is anathema to you. Both of you, it seems, if the way Simon's back is warm and pliant against your chest, his breathing slow and steady. Tomorrow you'll need to talk (or do your best substitution of it), but for tonight, you can hug him close and finally have an answer to what it would feel like to have him close without the sex, to just be with him. . .

[bellswlw]

modern!ellie williams headcanons

i’ve literally been SITTING on these since april so… i might make a pt 2 who knows but i need to get something out. also cw for fem presenting reader, kindaaaa smut mentions but no full scenes. i think that’s all enjoy<33

ellie definitely talks in her sleep. most of the time is basically incoherent slurring, but sometimes if you get lucky enough to wake up to it, you can hear her having full blown conversations, hand gestures and all. “here. take it, here.” she says, her voice coated thickly with a rasp and her hand held out in front of her. she’s pretending to hold something in her hand, shaking it when whoever doesn’t take what she’s offering. you clasp a hand over your mouth to stop the laugher from bubbling over. but she catches you then, her hand immediately forming into a straight point and saying, “don’t laugh.” and your eyes widen in shock only for ellie to slouch against the mattress with a small huff. she’s fallen asleep again.

i like to imagine ellie cutting off her skinny jeans into shorts in the summer. like taking her knife and just fucking cutting them clean off while she’s still wearing them. and after she’s done she finally looks up at you asking, “they even?” and you have to laugh because… no. her right pant leg was significantly shorter than the left, resulting in her having to slowly, bit by bit trim off more fabric until she had accidentally went from wearing shorts that fell below her knee to ones that rode up the middle of her thigh. she scoffed, trying to tug at the phantom fabric “shit, they’re too short,” and she adjusted them on her, trying to get comfortable in her new clothes and waiting for a response. she looks up at you, and you can’t even draw your eyes away from her thighs. you’d never ever seen ellie i’m something like this, so it was a treat for you. eventually you speak, “i like ’em” and ellie smirks at you before taking a step closer, whispering under her breath, “course you do.”

ellie would do anything for you. including, going with you to your nail appointments and getting her nails done to match yours. although, she kept hers short, with a clear base and small black flames curling under the top coat. she sits patient and quietly for you to be done, watching you scrunch your nose at her and saying “can you itch, please?” and you’d tip your head toward her before a gentle finger swiped away the small tingle. driving home after lunch, she would grip the steering wheel lightly, her fingers still slightly spread apart not being used to the feeling of polish. “you sure it’s dry? it feels heavy.” and she looks over at you before you ask for her hand to check. “ellie, it’s been two hours. i think you’re good.” and you ran the pad of your finger over each finger, she was set. (let’s also not forget how her cheeks flush as she slips her thumb into your mouth and seeing the design disappear and send a flood of wetness straight through her when you release it with a moan)

ellie kissing your thighs before going down on you. that’s it. it’s canon i know it.

she also definitelyyy would have absolutely no self control seeing how good your ass looks in your best jeans, watching as you’re doing something super domestic like loading the dishwasher or switching the laundry… or even simply bending over to grab something you dropped before she slides a finger under the thin strap of your thong and snaps it against your skin. you’d straighten up immediately, letting a gasp fill your lungs before your mouth falls in a hard line. and of course she’d look away, pretending she didn’t do anything with a smirk glued to her face.

i totally headcanon ellie having a red iphone. and she definitely doesn't have a case on it but yet still gets upset every time she drops it and a new crack chips away at her screen somehow dodging her camera

oh and she is a fucking nerd when it comes to comic-con, like in the best way possible. you tag along with her as she walks from booth to booth, nearly dragging you behind her with a single hand. like she wears a lanyard (not around her neck, but strung through one of her jean loops beside her karabiner with her car keys) and everything, collecting new pins with nearly every stop. you stand silent beside her as she talks to someone on the other side of the booth, seeing her grinning from ear to ear when she finds out that one of her favorite characters has an entire spin off series. she turns to look at you for a moment like she couldn’t believe it, and you smile at her before she scrambles to look up the series title on her phone. and as much as it might not be your thing, you just cant deny you don’t get some enjoyment out of it when you see how happy she is when the two of you are finally back in the car. “that, was fucking awesome.” and she sighs in her seat before asking you what you want to eat.

if she’s sitting next to you and not really paying that much attention, your hand will squeeze lovingly on her thigh and it makes her jolt a little, her eyes finding yours to see your smirking at the sudden twitch of her leg. “jeez, be gentle yeah?” and then she’s focusing her attention back to what was before, trying not to think about how later on she’d be wanting to feel the back of yours against hers when she’s drilling her strap into you ass up.

she’s always going “oh yeah?” or “that so, huh?” always egging you on, trying to find your eyes when you look away and feel the heat flood your skin. such a casual dominance about it. wanting to challenge her and be put back in your place with a simple question… one you can’t even answer without lying.

ellie loves tv girl and deftones like… don’t tell me she doesn’t bc your a liar and a fraud— give me money. she loves them. end of story.

[jakescakeislateforourdate]

Hey girly!! Im too shy to ask this without the anonymous filter but first of all I’ve been reading through your blog and I love it honestly. I was wondering if you are open to requests if you’d be able to write up something about joe rantz (I am absolutely LIVING for blonde callum) and maybe a coaches daughter trope? he saw her when he went to sign himself up, at the practices all that jazz and just them like becoming friends then more than friends, the boat scene where he gets his seat taken away from him maybe? thank you so much and again I love your work! xx

Hello, my lovely anon. Glad to see you in my inbox. I apologize for the wait but I've been coming out of an awful slump and I was trying to make this piece not total garbage. I hope you enjoy it and I hope I see you in my inbox again.

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

Joe Rantz (Callum Turner’s) x reader

wc: 4,600

Joe finds himself utterly gobsmacked when he discovers that the pretty face he’s seen at the shell house is the coach’s daughter and not his wife.

Enjoy this garbage!

…

Joe Rantz had come to the shell house in search of work. He’d hoped that making the team would cover his tuition and get him a room and he needed it so desperately. Roger Morris stood next to him, chewing nervously at his nails. “Sorry, Joe, didn’t realize competition would be so tight.” He mutters, spitting out a shred of his fingernail. Coach Ulbrickson was going over the basics of practice. It sounded like absolute hell to Joe but he was out of options. He fidgeted with the number painted on his jersey. Sure, he was strong from a lifetime of rough labor but so were the other boys. Most of them were broke too and just as desperate. Joe didn’t know if he had what it took to stand out but he’d be damned if he couldn’t make a life for himself because he couldn’t muscle up some money for college. 

As Ulbrickson speaks, a shadow appears in his office window. It’s too far for Joe’s nervous gaze to actually study the figure. He tries to focus on coach but the shadow continues to draw his attention. Roger notices too. “Who the hell is that?” Joe just shrugs. The shadow never leaves the window even as Ulbrickson finishes up and the boys get split up. Joe can’t dwell on the figure any longer because he’s being herded into the middle of shellhouse. He begins a horrible set of workouts. His body is made for hard work but he’s never actually worked out before. His muscles aren’t used to straining this way. 

It’s not long before his breathing becomes labored and sweat is pouring down his back. His curls hang down his forehead, sticking to his skin uncomfortably. And just when the pain is becoming unbearable the coaches are swapping them out and Joe is put on a junky old boat and an oar is pushed into his hands. They start rowing and instantly, the only thing on Joe’s mind is how bad his back hurts. Pained grunts and groans echo across the water as the boys struggle to keep pulling the oars. 

Eventually, it’s all over. Joe stumbles onto the dock in front of the shellhouse and feels his knees shaking with excursion. Men begin to drain away from the shellhouse and as the numbers dwindle, the shadow in the window of Ulbrickson’s office reappears. It moves through the glass panes like a swan through water. Then the office door opens and Joe sees your face for the first time. 

“That was some tough practice, huh?” Roger bumps Joe’s shoulder, a crooked smile on his face. Joe cannot respond and Roger follows his gaze. “Washington, Washington, what finery you enjoy.” 

You descend the steps and take a place between Ulbrickson and Bolles. Ulbrickson puts and arm around and Joe feels his heart wither a little. You’re probably Mrs. Ulbrickson. Though he can’t shake the impression that you look a little too young to be with Ulbrickson. 

“Alas,” Roger throws up his hands, “Finery we cannot also enjoy.”

“Don’t be crass.”

“I’m not! How was that crass?” Roger purses his lips and nudges Joe. 

Joe just buttons up his jacket and picks up his books, “C’mon, let’s get outta here.”

The very next day, Joe is suffering through practice. He aches all over and his muscles scream at him. He’s already shaking when he gets done with the basic strength building exercises. Most of the boys are. There are fewer numbers today but this does not better Joe’s odds by much. They clamber into Old Nero and start rowing away. His wrists twinge and his knees spasm. He rows and rows until he thinks his body will give out and then Ulbrickson is directing them back to the shellhouse. Jow crawls out of the boat, soaked to the bone and stiff as a board.

Then he sees you again, this time your sorting registry papers with Pocock. Your back is turned to him, so you don’t notice his longing stare. He keeps telling himself that you’re a married lady and that he should be focused on making the team, but nothing seems to chase you from his mind. 

Coach Ulbrickson sweeps across the dock and places a hand on top of your head, an odd gesture between husband and wife but Joe wouldn’t know about those things. Since his group was the last to use Old Nero, they get the privilege of stowing the oars. Joe begins unlatching the mechanism when he shifts on his knees.

It happens so fast he can’t clock what’s happening. First there’s the sensation of slipping, the horrible thrust of his legs flying out from beneath him. He twists mid slip, and his side smacks the dock painfully before he’s swept off the dock by his own weight. He plumets into the cold water with a catastrophic splash and agonized shriek.

When Joe resurfaces a dozen hands are reaching for him. He grasps onto George Hunt’s forearm and allows Shorty to hoist him onto the sodden wood planks. A fluffy white towel is draped around his shoulders; firm hands rub his chilled biceps. “Are you alright?” You face appears before him.

Joe is almost too stunned to speak, “I—yeah, yeah I’m okay.” 

You tuck the ends of the towel into his hands, “Better get showered up and dressed.” Joe just nods and stumbles past you and into the locker room. Roger follows closely behind, teasing Joe relentlessly.

“You’re fallin’ harder than I thought.”

“Roger!” Joe grinds his teeth, huffing and puffing. “You need better jokes.”

Joe spends that night struggling to focus on his schoolwork. He has math homework that needs doing. He has books to read. The one in his hands now periodically goes in and out of focus as Joe’s mind wanders. On the page is the story of a western novel, a man had found a girl walking alone the road at dusk, all on her own. He didn’t want to leave her to the coyotes, so he offered her a ride into the nearest town. They were riding horseback across the prairie. Her arms wound tightly around him; her hands splayed over his chest. 

Her hands—

Her hands—

What is wrong with you, Joe?

Joe reads this line over and over again. Each time he nears the end his brain short circuits and all he can think about are your hands on your shoulders. You hadn’t even really touched him, at least not his skin.  Yet the only thing shooting through his neurons are the sensations of your fingers along his skin. That imaginary touch he can conjure up so perfectly. He eventually gives in and skips down a few paragraphs. He reads late into the night and the phantom touches are still nagging his senses when he closes the book and rolls over to sleep. 

…

Day after day, Joe sees you at practice. You congratulate him when he makes the team and help him with his technique every once and a while. “Roll your wrists just a bit more.” Your fingers would poke at his forearms and direct him in graceful strokes. It fries his brain. You give pointers to the rest of the team too, working closely with Bolles and Pocock to get them in racing shape. It’s not long into the season when Ulbrickson decides to switch coxswains. 

“This is Bobby Moch. Your new jockey.” Bolles announces one day. Bobby is short and slender and sharp tongued.  The second he climbs in the boat and starts barking out commands, Joe is flabbergasted. Who is Bobby to talk to the team this way? But they all find themselves obeying his every word. What really irks Joe about Bobby is how friendly he is with you. You exchange jokes and poke fun at each other. Joe tells himself that he just thinks it’s inappropriate to flirt with the coach’s wife but beneath it all he’s incredibly jealous that Bobby can make you laugh so easily. It makes Joe pine for attention in a way that he never has before. 

The day of their race against California, Joe is all jitters and nerves. He bounces on the balls of his feet and shakes his hands, trying to loosen the anxiety. Streamers and garlands of flags decorate the locker room and the campus. People have gathered in clusters along the course and wave flags of purple and gold. The smell of popcorn and peanuts permeates the air and Joe promises to indulge himself if they win.

As the crew carried their shell down to the water, they begin chanting to themselves. “Bow down to Washington!” They neglect the varsity’s jeers and clip their oars into position. They spot Coach Ulbrickson in the stands, you at his side. And then there’s another woman. And Ulbrickson hugs her. And then he kisses her.

Right in front of you! What is going on?

“Rantz! Eyes on me!” Bobby hollers. But Joe can’t help stealing another confused glance. “I said quite drooling over coach’s daughter and LOOK AT ME!”

Joe feels like an idiot. He puts his head down in shame and tightens his grip on the oar. Ulbrickson joins them on the dock and gives one of his famously encouraging speeches. Joe is only half paying attention. They push off and are left with lovely Bobby hyping them up while they wait for the race to start. They lean forward, like a bow drawn for a shot. And then the white flag flies and the boats shoot away from the docks.

There’s nothing but blur as Joe rows. He can only focus on the muscled shoulders of Don Hume in the stroke seat as Bobby screams at them. “28!”

About halfway through the course, Bobby demands the stroke rate be upped and Don performs. The shell lurches forward, eating up the distance between Washington and Cal until the JV boat surpasses the Berkeley blokes. Then the boat is cutting across the finish line, a clean win. Adrenaline rushes Joe’s veins. He throws his fists in the air as the team splashes and roars. They’re inevitably drowned out by the crowd who bursts up in a shower of peanuts and Washington flags. 

Coach Ulbrickson, the new woman Joe assumes his Ulbrickson’s wife, and you rush the dock as the boys climb out of the boat. “Excellent job.” Mrs. Ulbrickson shakes their hands as they unclip their oars. Bolles is compassionate enough to give them each a pat on the back as they hoist the boat over their heads and haul it off. 

Joe can’t help but notice the copious amounts of onlookers pooling around the shell as they carry it back to the shellhouse. They set it down on the stands and before they can even take their hands off the shell, they are bombarded by Washington fans. Girls reaching out to stroke their biceps or kiss their cheeks. Joe has never received attention like this once in his life. He’s as polite as possible, brushing off a few girls here and there and shaking the hand of the occasional fellow. Shorty has accumulated a few lipstick stains on his cheek. Don Hume is blushing from the tips of his ears down to the point of his freckled nose. Chuck and Roger accept a few hugs. They bask in the winners’ glory for only a few moments until the varsity team strolls by. They make a comment to Moch that Joe doesn’t catch but judging by the way Bobby’s shoulders square he can make obvious conclusions.

“You rowed so well today, Joe.” He hears your voice, and his palms start to sweat.

“Thanks, I uh—” It occurs to him that he doesn’t actually know a thing about you. “Sorry, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten your name.” You smile at him, and syllables fall out but the crowd is too loud. “What?” Your grasp his shoulder and lean in, the sound of your name echoes off the shell of his ear. 

When you pull away, you’re still smiling but before Joe can ask you another question, Bobby is buzzing by with a play-by-play of exactly what happened in Bobby’s world. 

You shade your eyes and peer down at the docks, “Looks like dad is almost done with the varsity. I should get down there.” You say, and Bobby turns around to talk to Shorty. “Hey. Will I see you at the party tonight?” Your hand rests on Joe’s shoulder. He prays you can’t feel his heart skip a beat. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Good. You had better save a dance for me, Joe Rantz.”

You leave him breathless, the butterflies in his stomach so vicious that he shudders. He watches you disappear down the pathway to the dock and his heart starts hammering with anticipation. You want to dance with him. You want to touch his hands, touch him. And then he remembers that you already did that, he was too focused on the motion of your lips that he’d hardly registered the sensation of your hands on his arm. Damn! What had it felt like? He’d remembered it’d made him flabbergasted and choked his speech but he couldn’t remember how the grooves in your palm felt as they brushed over his skin. The warmth of your fingertips. He curses himself out and vanishes into the locker room to get changed.

…

The dance rolls around rather too quickly and Joe is swimming in nerves. He has to tie his tie twice because he messes up so badly, he can’t even draw it tight to his neck. Roger found out all too quickly and hasn’t let Joe catch a break.

“A date with coach’s daughter. Careful Joe, Ulbrickson might throw you off the team if he catches the wrong look in your eye.” 

“Shut up, Roger, I’m not greasy like you”

“Ouch, that hurts me.”

“Clearly not enough.” Joe hisses as he finally gets his tie right. 

“Feels like I’m a father about to send his kid off to prom.” 

Joe sighs and throws on his suit coat. “Oh, please—”

“Look at you fly, shooting out of your league.” 

Roger works a smile onto Joe’s face, and they set off for the party. Spring is finally warming the campus up from a brutal winter and a few couples mull around outside. Joe and Roger find their way into the crowded gymnasium, both shocked by just how loud it is. Joe can’t even hear his own thoughts. They spot the team almost immediately, clustered around tables, drinks in their hands. A few of the boys are dancing with some lovely dames, a few are leaned against the wall having close conversations. Don is sitting by himself on a bench a few feet away from the refreshment table, watching the dance floor. Joe is turning to follow Roger towards the other boys but an arm loops through his, “Thought you weren’t going to show.” You practically shout. 

Joe can’t help but grin as you capture his attention. “You weren’t joking.”

“Not a bit, Rantz, didn’t have any other dancing plans except for this one.”

“Guess I should make it worth your wait then.” Joe leads you into the thicket of bodies.

He prides himself on the laugh you let out, “please do,” you say as he takes your hands and spins to face you.  He places his hand high on your waist and cradles the other gently in his palm. He can feel the smooth plains of you hand against his. Each crease and each callous. His are no doubt unbelievably rough from the rowing and he would feel bad but right now all he can feel are your fingers lacing through his. “You’re not half bad.” You tease. Joe knows his cheeks are heating up to a flaming red. Probably his ears too. 

His hand migrates to the small of your back as the music changes into a soft slow song. “I’ll be completely honest,” he starts, “I had no idea you were the coach’s daughter.”

“Then who else would I be?” 

“I thought you were his wife.” He looks away sheepishly, but your laughter is so unrestrained and whole that Joe’s heart melts. You can’t stop laughing either and it’s contagious. 

“You’re an engineering student, right?” Your shoes brush as you sway with him. 

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Joyce.” Joe’s heart drops. In his infatuation he’d forgotten all about her. “She was trying to hit on you, but she figured out that your attention was elsewhere.”

“You too are good friends then?”

“Just since the start of the year. We have an English class together.” You and Joe talk for a while, it forces you to be close and neither of you care to separate. Eventually, you move outside and sit with sit with Joe on the steps of the gym. It’s still chilly out and you sit close to Joe which he doesn’t mind one bit. At some point your head rests on his shoulder and you close your eyes. Joe can do nothing but stare down at you, his mouth agape. 

“Why is your heart beating so fast?” You trace his knuckles with your pointer finger.

Joe’s head pounds, his mouth dry, “This has never happened to me before.”

“None of the girls from high school? Never?”

“Not one.”

You look up at Joe and reach to smooth back a blond curl. “Shame, they were missing out.” This makes Joe smile again and he’s immensely pleased with how easily you do that to him. Make him happy. He hasn’t felt like this since… he can’t remember when. Sure, he was happy when the team won but that was different. That was pride. So was making the team. This feels more affectionate, closer to the heart. He wonders if this is what love feels like but that would be silly; he’s only known your name for a day. He’s also never been flattered quite like this. Besides Joyce, he can’t think of anyone else who’s actually been interested in him. Certainly not one who compliments him the way you do. 

People start to drain out of the gym very slowly and Joe checks his watch. “So late already?”

“Guess I should get home; my dad will be wrought with worry.” You joke and straighten out your skirt. 

“Can I walk you home?”

“I would love that.”

Joe offers you his hand, “Where does coach live?” 

“Not too far.” You accept his calloused hand and direct him off campus. Surprisingly, Joe has read the book you’re reading for English and time flies as you discuss the book. Then Joe makes a sobering comment that makes you stop and study him. 

“His parents remind me of my own.”

Joe realizes what he’s let slip, “Don’t worry about it too much. I’m okay.”

“Can I ask what happened?”

Joe presses his lips into a line and stares down at his worn shoes. A wave of self-consciousness washes over him as he realizes how ragged of a life he has lived and just how much it shows. “Well—”

“Is this why you have a hard time trusting your team?”

“Hey now,”

“Sorry.” You take his hands.

He grimaces and squeezes your soft palms. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes.” 

Joe sighs and swipes a thumb across your knuckles. “My Pops just… left me one day. Told me I’d be fine on my own.” Joe gives you parts of the story. Mostly what he feels like stomaching at the moment.

When he’s finished you let go of his hands and cup his cheeks. He sinks into the touch, soaking it up like a flower budding in sunlight. You don’t say anything, you just look at him. You look at him like he’s the only thing that’s ever mattered and his heart trembles because he has never once known what it’s like to be that for someone else. And then you stand on tip toes and plant a hearty kiss on his forehead. “This is it actually,” you gesture behind you at the hosue that must be the Ulbricksons’. “I’ll see you tomorrow at practice?”

“Yeah.” The spot on his forehead that you kissed tingles. “Nowhere else I’d want to be.”

…

The Poughkeepsie Regatta rolls around all too quickly and Ulbrickson has to make a decision. The varsity boat who deserves it. Or the JV boat who could win it. His hands sweat as he stands on at that pulpit and reads off his preplanned speech. As he talks, he thinks about the future of the rowing program. The jobs it has provided him and Bolles. About how Pocock would have to find work elsewhere and it’d kill Al Ulbrickson to send him away. 

He leans into the mic and spits, “and that boat is our JV boat.” It has to be them. They have to win. Moans and groans blow his way as the crowd rejects his announcement. Regret washes over him but he cannot take this back. He has to be right about his crew. He tips his hat and hustles off the podium as the JV bursts into celebration. He has to be right.

…

Joe is more than pleased to see you on the train to Poughkeepsie. He slides into the car with you, and you chat away. You were fast friends the night of the dance and have since become closer. The kiss on the forehead still lingers sometimes, especially when Joe sees your lips form your smile. You entice him into some card games and eventually a game of chess. At some point, he decides that he needs to sleep and bids you goodnight so that he can find a train car to sleep in. But before he does, he sneaks a chaste kiss onto your knuckles. 

His good mood is stamped out the very next day when the team takes to the water. They don’t row good, and frustration starts to build. Bobby and the coaches try and get them working together, telling them that it’s just nerves and new water. But tensions rise regardless. The days start to dwindle, and the crew is getting worse and worse. 

Blame starts to turn to him, and Joe is at a loss. He doesn’t want to believe that he’s holding the team back, but he thinks back to what you said that night he walked you home. But the most awful feeling creeps over him, not an ounce of care. What’s wrong with him. This crew has been the only family he’s had in years. He needs them. But he can’t bring himself to admit it. 

Before he knows it, it slips and Ulbrickson is exiling him from the boat. As the crew watches Joe storm away, their spare crawls in and they set off for another row. Bolles taps you on the shoulder, “you had better see if you can do anything. Enlist Pocock if you have to.” Your father nods along.

You set out to find him, not that it was hard there’s not many places he can go alone. He’s stuffing his suitcase when you find him. “Don’t start.” He snaps. Then he sees your expression and his anger sours. “I’m sorry. Shouldn’t—”

“Don’t give up on your team, Joe.”

“I’m not.”

“You are, you’re quitting and throwing everything you’ve worked for away.”

“Don’t, don’t even start to pretend you know me.” He realizes too late that he’s made everything so much worse and before he can fix a thing Pocock is at the door.

“I could use some help putting another coat of oil on the shell.”

You duck past Pocock and leave Joe with a painful pit of remorse in his stomach. He follows Pocock and takes the talking to straight to the heart. As he lathers on a thick coat of oil, he figures he can bargain with Ulbrickson in the morning, but he should make a proper apology to you now. He racks his brain for anything that would make it right, but he’s horrifically inexperienced and it’s crippling him now. He feels like a child having a tantrum. He feels miniscule and insignificant.

After Joe dunks his brush into the whale oil can for the last time, he figures he’d better just confront the issue head on since he has no way of handling it delicately. He has no grace and he’s sure you’re aware of this. Pocock gives him an encouraging pat and takes the can from him. Joe winds his way back to the hotel and through the halls. Your room is on the second floor, third door down. He knocks gently, eyes lingering on the hideous carpet and tacky sconces. The door swings open after a moment and Joe is met with your disapproving glower. His tongue seems to swell in his mouth so badly that he worries it’ll flop out when he tries to speak. 

“Coffee?” You ask when you realize he will stand there silently forever if you don’t let him in. 

“No… I just wanted to—to apologize.”

“Oh really.” Your eyebrow quirks.

Joe is fumbling for words. You stand aside and motion for him to step inside so you can have this discussion in privacy. “I know that was wrong to take out my frustration on you. That wasn’t fair and none of it is your fault.” He twiddles his thumbs. How does he go about this without absolutely butchering it? “I just—” As he trails off, he notices a hurt dullness in your eyes. He recognizes it as pity. “You and the crew are really all I’ve got, and I’m so scared I’m going to lose it.”

“These boys aren’t going to leave you behind unless you separate yourself from them like today.”

“I know.

“Really?”

“Pocock made sure I know.”

The edges of your lips tilt up. You pull him down onto the foot of the bed and take his hand. “Are you actually going to try and trust them?”

“Don’t have enough faith to put it in anyone else.”

You squeeze his hand and trace a finger along his jawline, sweeping a knuckle under his chin. You force his stubborn gaze to you and find nothing but desperation. Wanting things like this doesn’t come natural to Joe and it shows, but he’s not so different from the other boys in that boat. 

You reach up and fiddle with a curl, “apology accepted.” Tears pool in the corners of his eyes and he tries to choke them down. You place a hand on his chest and rest your forehead on his. His breath fans over your cheeks. The tip of his nose brushes yours. His shoulders sag inwards and he reaches for your waist. 

“Can I—may I kiss you?”

Joe’s sweetness never fails to amaze you. You cradle his face and bring him closer. “Yes, Joe.” His breath hitches and his lips finally meet yours for the very first time. He’s gentle but generous and lets you kiss him for as long as you like. His arms wrap around you fully and hold you to his chest. He gets the feeling that he’ll be craving these moments all the time now, finally understanding what Roger and Chuck rave about. He’s hooked on your lips and your weight against him and when you pull away it breaks his heart. 

“You should get cleaned up before you talk to my father, you smell like whale oil.”

...

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading this. If you'd like to request, feel free to do so. I always love you in my inbox. I hope you enjoyed this fic and if you like it please check out my masterlist for more. Have nice day.

-the author

[cosmiiwrites]

Omg can you please do an Alastor x reader (gn + platonic)

Basically where readers ex won’t leave them alone (always stalking their socials and goes around asking for them) so Alastor steps up and helped the reader. Would be greatly appreciated 😭🙏

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ ex’s and oh’s

·:¨༺ platonic!alastor x reader ༻¨:·

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ summary: in which alastor puts your obsessive ex back in line cw: cussing, violence, obsessive behaviors a/n: JSBNJDHS THANK YOU FOR 120 FOLLOWERS OH MY GOSH??? also i hope this is good, i dont usually write for alastor😭 you frowned at your phone, a notification from no other than your ex being the cause. "thought running off to some shitty hotel would keep me away from you?" the message read. it was the third time you'd had to delete one of their comments. honestly, it was getting tiring. you'd moved on weeks ago! every time you'd block their account, they'd just make a new one. you sighed, deciding that putting down your phone would be the best option. your peace lasted about five minutes before charlie called you downstairs. "uhm, [name]? there's someone down here who'd like to meet you..." she said, suspicion evident in her voice.

you made your way to the railing of the stairs, before stopping abruptly. your ex was right outside the hotel doors, looking in every direction frantically. hoping to catch sight of you. "why is-" charlie pulled you aside before they noticed you. "we tried sending them away," she sighed, "but they wouldn't budge!" "charlie, it's alright." you reassured. "just tell them i'm not here." she gave a curt thumbs-up before retreating downstairs.

———————————————————————

“of course they’re here, the little shit’s probably just hiding,” your ex spat. they’d been arguing with charlie for the past half hour trying to get to you. alastor’s smile grew irritated at the sight.

“well-“ “i’ll handle this one, my dear.” alastor interrupted. charlie gave him a nervous nod before letting him drag your ex by the collar.

the hallway lights flickered as alastor forced your ex into a corner. “what the fuck do you think your doing?” the smaller demon protested.

“you’ve been causing disturbances in my hotel. i can’t allow that.” alastor snarled, voice dripping with poison.

your ex scoffed. a mistake. “the fuck are you gonna do about i-“ they were cut off by a hand to their throat. with alastor’s free hand, he grabbed your ex’s arm, locking them in place.

“here’s whats going to happen.” alastor deadpanned. the lights were flickering more fervently now. “you are going to leave this hotel without any complaints.” his antlers grew as he continued, eyes darkening. “and if i catch you bothering my dear friend [name] again,” alastor leaned into the trembling demon’s ear. “i’ll rip your insides out and broadcast your screams for all of hell to hear. you’ll set a prime example of what happens to pathetic wretches who dare cross my path. do you understand?”

your ex’s lack of response displeased alastor. alastor’s nails dug deep into the demon’s arm, drawing blood and emitting a loud cry from your ex. “i said, do you understand?” he repeated darkly.

“yes, yes—fuck! get off of me!” the demon cried, hand clawing around their neck in hopes to loosen alastor’s grip. which was unsuccessful. “glad we both can settle on an agreement.” the lights went back to normal, and alastor went back to his usual calm and collected demeanor. he discarded his hands from your ex and wiped them on his coat.

your ex flew out the hotel doors in less than 30 seconds.

———————————————————————

few hours later

“hey, charlie, how’d you get my ex to leave?” you questioned. “yeah, that bitch was NOT going nowhere,” angel chimed, eyes still glued to his phone. “how’d you even survive dating a fool like them?” you sighed at his comment. “well, they’re an ex for a reason…”

“but back to the main question. how DID you get them to leave?” charlie gave you a nervous smile. “well…”

“i handled them myself.” alastor quipped. “it was quite easy, might i add.” his grin sharpened, as if he was proud himself. he was, and for good reason! angel cocked a brow. “yeahh, we’re never seein’ them again, are we?”

[luvrxbunny]

hi bun! omg i love ur writing so much goddamn <333

ik u have done a kinda related drabble on this bfr but could u do Miguel and his infatuation with tits (i keep thinking abt him being a dom but still having a mommy kink it is driving me insane)

hugs and kisses :)

mother milkers ─ ★ miguel o’hara x f! reader

a/n: IM SORRY APPARENTLY ITS HARD FOR ME TO WRITE MOMMY KINK WITHOUT THE GUY BEING SUBBY BUT I TRIEDDDD

wc: ???

warnings: 18+ MNDI, reader has big boobs, piv, boobjob, titty sucking, creampie mention, little bit of mommy kink, breeding kink

-> okay so he’d be completely locked in on your chest, it’s why missionary is his favorite— basically anything where you’re facing him. he’ll settle for doggy every once in awhile but he wants to see them.

-> i think he’d have a nipple in his mouth whenever one is in range. like even if you guys are just chilling on the couch, if he gets the urge he’ll just pull you into his lap, pull your shirt down to expose your boob and your nipple is in his mouth within the second. he won’t even acknowledge you, he’d just go back to watching the show like nothing happened.

that usually leads to him getting hard. he tries to pretend he’s not that easy, that it takes more than you in his lap and a tit in his mouth to get him leaking but it’s just not true. he’ll grind himself on you until he works up the courage to take what he needs.

-> if you’re not in the mood you can just get on your knees, not for a blowjob though. you can see the disappointment in his face whenever he thinks you’re about to place your mouth on him. you’re heavenly, of course, but he’d much rather be between your supple boobs. it makes his eyes roll back, his legs shake and thighs tense.

-> he gets agressive sometimes too, a little overexcited. he’ll hold you a little too roughly, leaving marks where his hands were, his nails digging into your skin. he’s bitten you a few times too, getting too worked up and drawing blood while he empties inside you.

-> Miguel would also need you to tell him how well he’s doing, he wouldn’t beg though, i think it’d be disguised as a tease for you. he’d say things like “yeah? you like that? tell me about it, baby” or “i make you feel so good don’t i? mhm?” or “tell me how that feels, sweetheart. you like it there? that’s it.” and some “talk to me, amor”

-> he loves it when you ride him, obviously cus he gets to watch them bounce.

-> he uses your under boob as heating for his hands while you guys cuddle. and as he gets hornier he begins to give you a massage, just slowly kneading your boobs.

-> he cannot have your boob in his hand without him getting turned on. he just can’t help it.

-> the mommy kink comes covered in a breeding kink. and i think it’d be mixed in with ‘mama’

“yeah, i’m gonna make you a fuckin’ mama.” and “you wanna be a mommy, baby? lemme get you pregnant, love”

or it’d be like

“fuck. ride me, mommy. yeah, just like that. you’re such a good girl, so perfect, mama.” and “mhm. you’ve earned it, mommy. gonna fill you all up.”

-> i think he’d whisper it to you in public to signify that he’s turned on, that he wants you. you’ll even get a “please, mommy” if you’re lucky enough.

[fontvine]

nsfw alphabet for wriothsley please ?

CW - gn!reader, pre wriothesley release, blood, breeding

A = aftercare (what they're like after sex)

very attentive yet quiet - he has a list of things he does without skipping or doing any of them out of order to ensure you feel comfortable and safe with him afterwards

B = body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

wriothelsey loves your neck... specifically the back of it tho - something about the little hairs that line the base of your skull and how his fingers look as they trace the muscles in you neck makes him flustered

C = cum (anything to do with cum basically... i'm a disgusting person)

while he loves to see you coated or filled with his cum, something about seeing your own release coating his scarred skin really does it for him - he'll make you ride his abs, smearing your cum and arousal all over only to press his hand to his stomach so he see the little strings that connect between them afterwards

D = dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

when your nails scratch down his back or down his front, he'll purposely put his weight into your nails, allowing them to dig deep enough to draw blood - if he's not in pain for the next few days, then it wasn't good enough

E = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

he's certainly dabbled in sexual escapades but never let anyone get too close to him - considering his occupation, he rarely had time to be doing anything outside of casual hookups

F = favourite position (this goes without saying)

missionary - simple man who likes the simple position that allows him to look at you without strain and allows your hands to reach every bit of his skin

G = goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

wriothesley is definitely more serious than anything else - he may let out little breathless giggles alongside you but wouldn't crack jokes or do anything purposeful to make you laugh

H = hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

he tries his best to remain pretty well groomed but his hair gets unruly at times - if he's more swamped at work than usual then he may let go of his grooming habits

I = intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)

very intimate - since you are probably the only one who had really gotten close enough to see wriothesley for who he really is, he uses sex to really let his guard down around you

J = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he only jacks off if he cannot get to you in a timely matter - at work when you're on the surface and he's borderline trapped in the four walls of his office is one of the only times he gets off by himself

K = kink (one or more of their kinks)

scratching, minor blood kink, restraints, biting, breeding

L= location (favourite places to do the deed)

in the comfort of your home together or in his office (when you visit him)

M = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

wriothesley strives to make you scream for him and to have the both of you dripping with one another - be it literally or just draped in the marks of one another

N = NO (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

hurting you to the point of inducing fear - he dabbles in minor pain play but the minute fear crosses your face he'll be off you in a second (he wants to induce reactions, but never fear)

O = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

isn't a huge fan or oral going either way but he'll never deny you if you want it, be it him going down or you going down on him

P = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

very rarely does wriothesley go slow or gentle - he's an hardened person by nature and does prefer when things are more heated between the two of you, however thats not to say he wouldn't be gentle with you once and a while

Q = quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

doesn't mind quickies but he does prefer to be able to go at his own pace without being rushed

R = risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks?)

as long as it doesn't break the law wriothesley will do almost anything under the sun - he won't push the rules passed their set boundaries but he will push just to the surface of them

S = stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long?) 

man has stamina for days - he deals with rowdy gang members for a career so he's able to go for a solid three rounds before he starts feeling anything

T = toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

wriothesley is a man who finds confidence in his body and that solely so he would utterly despise anything that brings you pleasure outside of himself or your own fingers

U = unfair (how much they like to tease)

outside of edging or dirty talk, he keeps the teasing to a minimal

V = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

he'll grunt, growl, and sigh loudly, but unless he lets you top him, thats all your'll really hear from him (when you top he does not keep his mouth shut whatsoever)

W = wild card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

wriothesley has rules in the bedroom - while they aren't the most serious ones, some include telling him everything and anything you are feeling, not holding back your sounds, and never holding back from leaving marks on him

X= x-ray (let's see what's going on in those pants, picture or words)

a beefy man with a girthy 7 inch cock - truly the veins that line his cock drag so delightfully on your gummy walls - his cock is also ever so slightly curved upwards

Y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

it really ranges for him - sometimes he only really finds himself horny when you are, but other times he drags you to the bedroom three times a day to fuck like rabbits

Z = ZZZ (…. how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he waits for you to sleep before he rests himself - like i said about aftercare with him, wriothesley has a list of things he does after sex so he doesn't rest until you're cleaned up and comfortable

[vendetta-ari]

Your fav anon is backkkkk! Hey Love! May I request a Vox (and you can include Lucifer too) x Artist (f!) reader headcannons? As I’ve said before, take your time! ♡ ♡

UGHH OH MY FUCKIN GOD IM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO GET TO YOUR ASK BRO ILYSM ANON TYSM FOR YOU PATIENCE UR FRFR MY FAV ANON ♡♡♡

anyways, here Luci + Vox x artist reader

Lucifer

~ Lucifer and you always create and paint things together, he loves your creativity and he adores your art

~ You and Luci exchange ducks on special days, like valentine's day,  Christmas, and birthdays.

~ You always exchange art tips with each other,  bother being artists and your own unique ways.

~ Many times you have painted Lucifer's ducks for him when he's feeling down.

~ You two took a picture on your anniversary and you printed it out and painted it, he hangs it up on his wall and he always says its “The best thing I've ever, ever owned my dear!” he always gets all cheery and smiles when he sees it

~ You paint lucifers nails for him, last time you made a lil duck design on them

~ People can always tell when you two have been hanging out because the two of you are all giggly and smiling covered in paint

~ You painted a mural in his room, an apple using both his and your favorite colors

~ you give all your art pieces to Luci, you tried to sell one of them and the poor guy almost cried

~ he's basically drowning in your paintings and all your artwork, he doesn't mind at all though. although he is running out of space…

~ whatever he'll just expand his room to fit more of your work.

~ you have forced Lucifer to let you do makeup on him, he wasn't too happy but you laughed your ass off at his annoyance and makeup covered face

~ He cant stay mad at you for too long though, when your mad at luci you'll grab one of his ducks and paint them a different color completely and rub paint off some off his other ducks

~ when you finally calm down you repaint all for them with him though, as an apology. 

~ the two of you often take walks through the rings of hell for inspiration 

~ surprisingly, the screams of everyone being tortured is great to get those creative juices flowing

Vox

☆ Now let's be for real here guys, Vox can't draw for shit, so him being with an artist reader is kinda cute and unique and funny

☆ But you on the other hand, “your art is beautiful! n’ it should be hung up in a museum or something like that doll, I seriously dunno how you do it”

☆ During certain shows where they need sets, props, or anything related to that, you'll be the one painting them being the first to volunteer  you totally didn't draw a dick kn one of the sets and embarrass him on live television pft- noo psh- hah why would you ever do such a thing? it must've been val!

☆ You couldn't keep your laughter when Vox drew that picture of Alastor when be was throwing his hissy fit on live television 

☆ you redraw a picture of Alastor for Vox to tear up crumble and kick around as a stress reliever 

☆ Vox realized that you drew a picture of Alastor, didn't matter what it was for you still drew him, just then he got angry again and demanded that you draw a picture of him

☆ just one more thing to stroke his ego I suppose 

☆ You and velvette are besties, she often steals you away from Vox so you two can draw up outfits

☆ and he totally doesn't ever never get mad at her because of that

☆ You often draw in a red and blue journal Vox gave you as a gift once, it was in a whim but you still love it dearly 

☆ you draw pictures of him and you together with little hearts around them, but vox doesn't need to know that

☆ but one time he did look through your journal, out of curiosity. trying to hide the blush that spread across his face, he grabbed a pen and wrote little messages on a few of your doodles "Didn't know she was that obsessed with me" he mumbled under his breath while flipping through the pages

☆ “We're gonna recreate this photo tomorrow,  meet me at my office in 4:00 dollface” -Vox

☆ when you noticed the note you almost lost your mind fangirling over this TV man

☆So you did as you were told and met him at his office, getting there a little bit early

☆ And just like that he picked you up and carried you bridal style to his chair, kissing you softly all over, with you giggling and blushing, creating your drawing perfectly.

-xoxo, Ari

[ghostbite0]

How do each of the Hashira react to one the 21 trio bawling their eyes out and inevitably making the other two cry, and who usually starts the crying chain reaction 😭

omg i love this ask. let me cook

they all kinda do the crying chain reaction, it really just depends on who is in baby mode at the time. obanai gets frightened, sanemi gets frustrated, and giyuu gets scared!

how they react…

gyomei: he tears up with them, but is always the one who can get them to calm down right away. he basically just scoops them up and cradles and hums a lullaby until the three settle down, and then he gives them lots of kisses and just sits with them for a while. hes very dad

tengen: five times out of ten he doesnt really know what to do aside from try to make them laugh. this always works for sanemi but its a pain trying to cheer obanai up without accidentally scaring him even more. he eventually learned he can distract them with the jewels on his headband or the paint on his nails. he will talk to them all the while and say stuff like “uncle tengen’s got you, so you have nothing to worry about!”

rengoku: insert several games of peekaboo and lots of hugs and kisses and tickles. each baby is different so he figures out different techniques for them. he loves the hug technique the most though!

he likes to ask what’s upsetting them; even if they cant exactly respond, he wants to show that he cares! he can usually decipher the baby babble and help them accordingly

mitsuri: LOTS OF KISSES. lots of coddling and cooing. “awwwh sweet babies its ok…!” she just bounces them and sings to them and gives them lots and lots of love. she showers them in compliments like “who’s the cutest baby! you are! yes you are!” sometimes her coddling just make giyuu and sanemi more hysterical. obanai likes the snuggles and how mitsuri talks

shinobu: she is a lot like gyomei in that she will just hum to them and rock them. she usually promises to do xyz for them if they settle down. she mainly focuses on getting them to breathe and settle down; she doesn’t want them getting sick… if she’s outside she’ll show them the pretty flowers and butterflies. if inside she grabs their stuffed animals and has them talk to the babies and dance for them

muichiro: “why are you crying” “what are you doing” “tomioka don’t join him” “okay well now you’re just being inconsiderate” … he’s super blunt while trying to cheer them up. “if you keep crying like that you will pass out” and etc . usually he looks for help because three crying babies is a lot

once hes more used to them and mellows out a bit he will do simple “shhh’s” and rock them, just like how gyomei taught him! obanai gets special treatment because he’s the favorite and most of the time he’s just scared, so muichiro understands (he was the same way when he was little) and he just holds him close and shields him

i saved this ask bc i wanted to draw it but i just dont have the time rn :( maybe in the future

[charcoaldustonmyfingers]

Kinda oddly embarrassed to send this but oh my god your art is so pleasing to look at for some reason

I think it's just the soft shapes you use and how amazingly 3D everything tends to look?? Like the angles and proportions are just so perfect that I find it easy to imagine most of what you draw as a 3D model or something

And like I don't think I could nail it like you (maybe with time!!) But I am definitely taking inspiration from it because it DOES get me thinking about how you use shapes and angles and wonder if I could practice that because oh my god I wish I could absorb your art

Do you have methods or techniques to make it look so 3D? if you know what I mean? I tend to use grids to try and map out the shapes in a vaguely 3D plane, so I was wondering if you had tips kinda like that to share with the class? or if you're just winging it and it's a lot of practice?

Thank you so much!!! It really means a lot to me when others take inspiration from my art, it reminds me of all the artists I used to look up to and emulate when I was first starting out on MSPaint with a broken trackpad for a pen, you don’t have to be embarrassed! You’ll definitely be able to harness 3D space and create fantastic work, you’re already well on your way! Having passion and a desire to learn will take you far :)

My biggest focus whenever I draw is to make the characters feel real, as though you could reach out and enter the space they’re in to sit next to them on the couch. I’m so glad that I’m able to pull it off! Thanks for the rose, I’ll be sure to cherish it :)

As for my methods and techniques…

Drawing on a 3D grid plane is definitely something I do! Its perfect for comic panels or storyboards, to set the scene and ground characters or props to their environment.

I did a lot of classical study, that is life drawing and still life drawing, but simply using reference for buildings and anatomy also helps a lot and is a lot easier to find. I’d also sketch my hands, plastic animals, and my surroundings, as well as people watch for inspiration for character mannerisms or fashion. It’s useful to know a little bit about the inner workings of anatomy, as there are places were bone makes a person inflexible, while places with more muscle or fat are affected by things like gravity or pressure that change their shape. Drawing a flour sac to act out different emotions is a great way to practice weight and character acting!

Having studied animation, I did a lot of turnarounds to get characters consistent and able to be rotated in 3D space. It can be pretty tedious for some people, but it really does help solidify the characters’ shapes and design, and serves as great reference to look back on if you need it! If you don’t want to do something so stiff as a turnaround, simply drawing expressions and poses from dynamic angles helps too. I’ve found that breaking a character down into basic shapes that are easy to draw in a 3D plane also can help my anatomy and foreshortening be more accurate.

Most importantly, find something that brings you joy to draw! Every “traditional” method of study can be applied to things you like, so don’t feel the need to burn out thinking you can only draw the Mona Lisa or whatever. I’ve done anatomy studies on the Rise turtles to figure out their skeletal structure, and friends of mine have painted some mind blowing concept art inspired by Sonic and D&D!

I hope this helps some? Best of luck, and have fun! :D

Below are a couple of examples of some of my studies:

[jeankirsteinsgrlfrnd]

+♡NSFW alphabet with Jean♡+

pairing: jean kirstein x fem!reader

word count:

tw: this is a nsfw, smut-filled post. there’s going to be a bit of everything. scroll with care.

a/n: i hope you enjoy this! this was a request and boy, do i love me some jean.

18+ | MDNI | NSFW

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

jean is all about aftercare. he knows how rough he can be with you so he makes sure to be so so so gentle afterwords. it’s not even a want, he needs to do this for you, his beautiful fucked out, marked up girlfriend. he’ll draw you a bath and carry you to it. jean will take care of all the hard work while you just sit and relax. he’ll shampoo your hair, wash your body and rub your shoulders. he’ll already have your most comfortable clothes set out and snacks will be soon on the way. to end the night, jean will hold you until you fall asleep, presumably in his lap as he strokes your hair.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

jean? if he had to pick his own favorite body part, he’d have to pick his hands. his hands that let him hold you, touch you, feel you. it’s also his hands that cause you to squirm underneath him, it’s his fingers that make your arch your back on his bed. he’s quite proud of his fingers and his hands. the way they are so slender and oh so long, make them just perfect for your cunt.

the hard part here is jean picking a favorite body part of yours. it could be your smooth legs. it could be your back. he settles on your thighs. he loves your plush thighs and how easily he can dig his nails in them when he goes down on you. how easily he can leave little crescent shaped marks on them. they’re perfect for leaving kisses or bites. your thighs are also the doors to your core. everything about them drives him crazy.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

jean can’t pick a favorite place to cum. he’d prefer to release inside you all the time but plan b’s are getting expensive. there’s just something about his cum leaking out of you, something about the way his seed in you makes him proud. it shows he owns you. however, he usually settles for your back.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

hmm…jean’s dirty little secret? he loves to be subby for you but not because you’re particularly good at it. he adores when you ask him, all shy and blushing before the words even come out, if you could be dominant for the night. jean knows this question will lead you to try to take control, unsure of what to do, lacking complete confidence. he fucking loves to see you try and he fucking loves to see you on top of him, trying to be in charge but ultimately ending underneath him. he hopes you keep trying.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

pfftt…i didn’t say it, but jean’s a slut. he knows how to please you while pleasing himself. there’s nothing he won’t try, especially if it’s you asking. he always ends up succeeding in making you feel good in any way you ask. this man could do anything and make you quiver. he knows what he’s doing and of course he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

jean’s favorite position is doggy without a doubt. he loves the animalistic nature of it, how loud you get for him. he wants to grip your hips so hard you bleed. doggy allows you to take every inch of him just like he wants.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

as silly as jean can be, he doesn’t find anything funny during the moment. he can laugh, he doesn’t expect perfection but he’ll never laugh at you. he won’t make jokes, he just wants to keep his attention on you. and he expects all of yours. he can keep things light hearted but mostly, jean just wants to fuck the shit out of you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

jean has a bush. he doesn’t care about his body hair or what it looks like, it’s not important to him as long as he maintains cleanliness and a personal hygiene routine. he lets it grow but will shave occasionally if it gets too out of control.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

if it were anyone else, jean wouldn’t bother with the romantic parts. but because he adores you, he hits every single mark. forehead kisses during missionary. sweet, desperate hand holding. and of course, growling an ‘i love you’ in your ear on occasion. he makes sure you are loved and that you feel loved. jean’s slow and gentle kisses all over your body never let you forget.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

jean doesn’t really masturbate. of course, he has in the past but since you two got together, he doesn’t really feel the need to. he has a girlfriend, why use his own hand when you’re right there? only time he’ll jack off and not fuck you, is if you’re far away and you’ve sent him a provocative picture. jean’s days are always made with those. he can’t stop thinking of you and next thing you know, his hands down his pants, cursing you for not being there to relieve him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

jean obviously has a breeding kink. he wants to see his cum dripping out of you. another thing that drives jean crazy is the size difference. he loves how he looms over you and the way you need to look up at him. it makes him feel powerful. it makes him feel in charge. it makes him feel like he could protect you but it also makes him feel like he could destroy you, like he could rip your tiny body in half if he got too rough. jean loves the way your pussy has to stretch to fit all of him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

there’s no place jean won’t fuck you. you are his and he’ll take you wherever, whenever. he enjoys the thrill of doing it at a party, in the bathroom with a hand over your loud mouth. he gets pleasure out of watching you try to be quiet. secretly, he hopes everyone will hear so they know who you belong too. jean also of course enjoys the privacy of your shared home where you can be as loud as you want with no one around to hear a single thing.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

all you have to do is wear a dress. any dress but jean’s favorite are definitely sundresses. a sundress without any underwear is his dream. he also likes when you don’t wear a bra. bending over to grab something is a classic. a surprising thing jean likes is you in pajama pants. he thinks they make your ass look really good.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

jean is not a fan of calling you mean nicknames. he’ll call you his dirty slut but he would never demean your physical appearance. he would never call you worthless or useless. he could never say those things to you. he couldn’t imagine you believing them for a second. he wouldn’t call you anything that would make you feel like just a sex object.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

jean is a giver through and through. he loves to praise you as he eats you out and loves to hold you down, something about the way you buck underneath him makes him eat like he’s starved. jean also appreciates getting his dick sucked. like, a lot. he’ll never make you do but if you offer, he’s all for it. he loves to play with your hair while you take all of him in. this is something he’s gentle with while most of the time he’s rough.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

it really depends on his mood and your mood. he can be one or the other, or he can be both. it also depends on the type of day you had. if you had a rough day, jean is sweet and takes his time, making you feel appreciated. if you two had gone out to dinner, you know you’re both taking your clothes off when you get home for a fast, rough, aggressive fucking. that applies to a jealous jean too.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

like i said earlier, one of jean’s favorite places to do it is in a bathroom at a party. he’s all for quickies. it doesn’t happen too often as jean likes to drag out your sex as long as possible but if the situation arises he’s sure to take it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

jean will try most things. he’ll try anything you want to, besides watersports, etc. that’s just something he’s not into. he loves trying new things with you, just to see what else he could do to drive you crazy.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

jean’s nickname ain’t the stallion for nothing. he’s steadfast. he doesn’t get tired. sometimes he’ll slow but only for your sake. he likes to try for a new record of rounds every now and then but you always find yourself needing a break with him. it’s not his fault your moans and whines restore his strength.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

jean owns toys. but not for himself. they’re yours and only yours. every once in a while, he might let you handcuff or tie him up only a little. but fuck does he enjoy using them on you. he’s got a plethora of options. cuffs, vibrators, dildos, candles, whips, paddles, feathers, rings, etc. all at your request. the most used toy is probably the vibrator. he’ll put that on your clit while he fucks you because nothing compares to the sound coming out of your mouth. sometimes you’re too speechless.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

jean’s a big tease. he can’t help it. you’re just so easy to get going. however, he also gives in quick. he’ll buckle for you the minute you tell him too. doesn’t like to keep his princess waiting.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he’s not a moaner. jean’s a groaner, a grunter. he’s not loud either. also, he’ll never yell. he is quite talkative. quick to whisper in your ear how good you’re doing, how good you’re making him feel. jean’s got a whole bunch of nicknames just for you. when he cums, he talks through it. thanking you and telling you how much he loves you. and he always lets you know when he’s about to cum. it’s always “fuck, baby. you’re gonna make me cum.” followed by a few quiet grunts.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

jean’s kinda a sucker for pain. just little amounts, nothing crazy. he likes when you dig your nails into his back, enough to leave scratches. he appreciates a hand around his throat now and now. but you tugging on that mullet of his has got to be his favorite. your fingers in his hair, the tension, it shows how much you need him close to you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

you know he’s toned. he has a six pack but it’s not crazily defined. his whole body is hard. his biceps are big, his arms and hands are a little veiny. jean’s thighs are big and fucking muscular. and his dick. oh god, his dick. it’s huge. a nice seven inches just for you. but fuck, is it thick. it could tear you in half if he wasn’t so gentle at first.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

jean’s sex drive is very fifty-fifty. he could have sex every day of the week but at the same time, it’s not a need. he doesn’t need to have sex. he just needs you. just between us, he’d probably fuck you five times a day if you could handle it. but he lets you call the shots.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

jean won’t fall asleep until you’re all taken care of. bathed, fed, pain killers if you need them and of course a glass of water. you’ll need to be tucked in, head on his chest until he’ll consider going to sleep. even then, he’ll lay awake for a few minutes, appreciating the moment.

you can find my jean fanfiction by clicking right here

[jensensitive]

I am obsessed with the way in which you draw Dean. You have his features nailed to perfection - somehow your Dean looks even more Dean than Dean in the show, because you exaggerate everything that makes him HIM. It's truly breathtaking <3 Any advice on how to get those features so flawless?

This is so so nice, thank you so much 😭💕💕💕

Honestly Dean is like my go-to thing to draw basically, and has been for many years, like I have to try to refrain myself from just drawing Dean again sometimes. He's like probably half of how I've learned to draw at all. So there's definitely practice there.

That said, I did not immediately have much of answer to this. It's like, his face is just his perfect, beautiful face, and then I try to draw that. 😅

So I drew some Dean to figure out what it is I do, so thanks for the excuse to draw more Dean lol

Extensive answer under the cut

If you're drawing something realistic from reference, for Dean you kind of have two options, you can either get a screencap that's closer up so you can see details better, but the top of his head is cut off, or you can get one where you can see less details but his whole torso is in frame. It can be weirdly difficult to guess at where the top of his head is sometimes, and you don't need details to capture a likeness, I think it was Sargent that said that the shape of the head is actually the most important aspect in capturing a likeness, so it's something to keep in mind. On the other hand, if you want to look at his pretty eyelashes while you draw him, you might want something closer up. (An understandable impulse).

Another thing is just to look for a reference that you really like, contrasty light and shadow are also great to look for. It's difficult to create a great drawing without them, but also it will illustrate the structure of his head best too. Look for shadow shapes you want to draw. If a reference is too dark (as it often is, because it's supernatural), edit it so you can actually see what you're drawing lmao.

I took a bunch of random screencaps of 11x02-- as random as I could, normally I'd just take screencaps of what I already kind of like, but I tried to just get all of it so you can see what I'm not choosing. (also couldn't help taking some cas ones when the lighting was going really hard)

I love a profile, I love a 3/4 view, I love when his eyes are like half open. His face was kinda giving towards the end of this episode.

Hopefully you can see them well enough. The mass ideas are more important for picking at impactful reference, but ofc I'm also trying to avoid any where he's making a dumb face or it's blurry. Sometimes that's only evident when I open it bigger, but that's okay, we have a bunch to pick from.

a. This one is one I picked out because it's an interesting angle, and I'd definitely do a little study of it, but because the lighting is so soft, it probably wouldn't be super interesting.

b. I like this one, the face he's making is hilarious, and I like the rhythm of his hand, but if I were to draw it, I might draw a fourth finger, otherwise it might look strange. So keep that in mind too, if it looks odd in the reference, it will look odd in the drawing, so unless you're confident that you can effectively change it, pick a different reference or find a second reference to help you change it.

c. This lighting's more dynamic, and I like his expression.

d. Would be hard to pick between these. This one's 3/4 and has a nice eyelash shadow, and I love the shape of his eye when it's downturned.

e. Shoutout to the shape of Jensen's brow when he looks down gotta be one of my favorite genders. + subtle Rembrandt lighting. Lovely.

f. This one is so good. Overhead lighting getting a shadow from his ear in a sideview, defining the jaw in an interesting way. Great expression. It's a bit strange, the way he's looking to the side, so it might be hard to draw convincingly, but would be worth it if I could do it. The shadow from the hair defining the shape of the brow. The light on the cheek defining the slight eyebag. The reflected light under the eye, the light landing on the nose. Would probably change the hair a bit because it looks a bit odd at this angle in this lighting, and if drawn like this it would probably look at bit block-like.

g. More rembrandt lighting. Shoutout to the shadow that this upper lip casts on his lower lip. Shoutout to the shadow his lower lip casts on his chin. Shoutout to the line of light defining his neck. Shoutout to the shape of his brow and forehead.

h. The rhythms here are chefs kiss-- the shadow line diagonal from the corner of his hairline to the corner of his brow echoed by the shadow line diagonal of his cheekbone, then that second line following through to the line of light on his neck that curves the other way.

i. This one's kinda boring wrt lighting, but it's an interesting enough angle to do a study of.

I'm going with screencap c because it's gonna work well to effectively illustrate the basic structure of how I construct his features. It's not directly straight-on, so the form isn't lost, but it's straight enough on to properly show our proportions.

For supplies here, I'm just using a soft charcoal pencil, I just use the kinda cheap ones (currently Markart) cause I actually like them better than General's. And it's on smooth newsprint. I just get it in a big thing of 500 sheets. Not archival but it's a cheap thing that's incredibly enjoyable to draw on. Pink Papermate eraser and a kneaded eraser. The pen I use at one point for some reason is a red Pentel RSVP ballpoint I think, although I actually prefer a Bic.

1. So first thing I block in that main shape, in this case, his head and shoulders. I also have to draw in the hairline at the same time, cause I can't figure it out otherwise. He's got kind of pointy ears. The collar of his jacket often comes up pretty high on the back of his neck. He's got a distinctive hairline that I think can go a long way to showing it's Dean, it's worth taking note of. It swoops to our left, and then the corner (I guess?) of his hairline will line up with the corner/arch of his brow. And don't draw the hairline as an unbroken line, but several lines with some room to breathe. His shoulders are pretty straight and broad, but about three heads across which is pretty normal.

2. Next what I think about is the shape of the eyesockets and the line of the brow. This bit will go a ways for conveying Dean's expression, because he has a wide range from light and happy to horribly scowly that's in the brows. You don't have to define the exact line of the brow at this moment, blocking in the general line is fine just to have an idea of where it lands. You can go back later and refine it. I also find where the bottom lid lands. In my brain it makes a shape like what I've drawn. I might not draw it just like this, but even if I don't, this is the shape I'm thinking about. The line from the end of his eyebrow to his bottom lid is a fave, sometimes you can see it on him, especially at an angle, and it's real pretty.

3. Next I find where the bottom of his nose lands, it's about double the length of the eyesocket. And the line under his bottom lip, about halfway between his nose and the bottom of his chin. These measurements are pretty average measurements for a face. I didn't give myself enough room for his chin initially, so I moved it down to fix it. Also adjusted his face very slightly wider on the right side, cause it's looking a bit narrow.

4. I added some of our shadow shapes. This is where finding a reference with well-defined shadows will be very helpful. And I sketched in the clothes cause why not. The clothes don't have to be perfect, who cares, Dean's collar is not our point of interest lol. The shadow on the neck will probably be slightly curved because of the roundness of the neck. If it's not, you might want to make it curve slightly anyway just to help define the form. I blocked in where the eyes are.

eyes: For Jensen's lovely eyes, they have a specific shape that is so nice to draw, especially at certain and angles and with certain expressions. But basically the top lid is more angular and can be almost boxed off at the end, and the line from the corner of the eye to the lashes is an s-curve that's higher in the middle. Again, not unusual features in drawing a face, but such pretty examples. The shadow that his lower lid casts (or his makeup idk?) is often dark enough to look vaguely like eyeliner. Jensen's lower eyelids, an underrated part of Jensen. His eyebrows are thicker in the middle and sparser on the ends.

5. Next I found the corners of the lips. This is an important aspect in the way I draw mouths. Sometimes I just draw them with dots where the corners of the lips are, a curve where the lips part in the middle, a shadow under the bottom lip, and the curve of the cupid's bow. (This is seen below in 6) I think I also adjusted the bottom lip shadow here. Straight-on, the middle of his lips is slightly higher than the corners, but of course, this will change when not straight-on, depending on if we're looking up or down at his mouth. I also sketched in the nose shape. The ridge of his nose has a nice subtle bump, and then the ball of his nose is very slightly squared off I think, from a front-facing perspective, I feel like. And I drew in his slightly drawn brows. Just pay attention to the angles in your reference, because the expression, the perspective and the angle of the head can impact it. But of course generally, drawn down in the middle, furrowed = scowly; drawn up, unfurrowed = happy.

nose: I prefer drawing his nose in profile. And who wouldn't, look at it! The slight curve of the bridge and then the ball of the nose. I will exaggerate this a little sometimes, just because it's fun and I like it. I couldn't find a reference, but from below, you can see the shape of the bottom of his nose, it dips in the middle a bit more than average. Drawing the bottom of the nose is often a delicate balance between shadow and reflected light. I love keeping it light, save for the nostrils, but then the shadow under the nose can be important too. Sometimes it's just a stylistic choice. Note that there's a plane change between the side of the nose and the cheek. (I think I drew his nose too upturned here, but the general idea is still there)

6/mouth: In drawing the mouth, the top line of the upper lip looks more rectangular at the ends, increasingly so as it turns away from us, and much less so as it turns towards us. Of course, he has a full upper lip that you can shade as you like. I try to keep it distinct from the shadow of the line of the mouth, and a reflected light on the top lip can be good here too. For the bottom lip, it's always nice to give is some shine with a hard-edge highlight. For the cupid's bow, I try to leave a light between the upper lip and the shadow in the cupid's bow. For some reason I drew the shadow backwards here, but I think it looks fine.

7/ears: I started to shade it, and then I remembered that he has ears. There's a simplified way I draw ears that I like. It's not entirely accurate, because the two shadows at the top are actually usually connected, but I find it a bit distracting that way sometimes, so this is more subtle I guess. In profile, I don't really have a method of drawing it, I just draw whatever the reference gives me or bs it with a similar version of this, depending.

8/hair: My method for drawing his hair is 1) suffer 2) hope and pray. I like to leave a rim light-type deal between the contour/outliine of the hair and the rest of the hair, I feel like it helps define it a bit more. The direction of his hair, and thus the direction of my lines is something like this.

9. And then I more or less just shaded. When shading, it's always good to follow the direction of the plane, and I also alternatively like to shade in the direction that the light is falling to reinforce that gesture, but when I shade a face, I try to shade in the opposite direction of where wrinkles would go, if that makes sense, mostly up and down I guess. This is of course on a case by case basis, like a lot of times, I'll do the forehead horizontally anyway, but it's especially touchy around where the laugh lines of the mouth would be and the neck. And on soft plane changes (and softish hard plane changes), I often shade at a different angle to the main shadow. Shading direction can also delineate different areas of similar tones, like I did with the jacket and the side of the nose. I like to give Dean his eyelash shadow, because he deserves it. I also drew in the eyes, of course. I think I actually tend to shade them backwards, and the light would fall in the opposite direction, so when lit from the right, the right side would be darker, but I just don't draw it that way idk maybe I should.

And there he is, that's our guy!

Normally when I'm drawing, I'm definitely a bit more all over the place, and don't necessarily do things in perfect order. And it's good to move around. I'm probably not going to be shading things before noting where all the features are going to land, but I often am shading something before I've drawn everything. Or end up drawing one eye and then maybe do part of the other and then move to do part of the nose and then sketch in an ear and then maybe notice something's off somewhere and adjust that, etc. Just go with it, have fun, he's got a fun face to draw! 💗

[clovestreet]

use me- chad meeks martin

an: chad is so CRIMINALLY underrated... and there is like almost nothing for him on here so i wanted to take things into my own hands🤗 i hope you guys enjoy and as always let me know if you want to see anything else for characters i have already written for :)

summary: you wanted to try something new with your boyfriend you and he made sure you were glad you asked..

warnings: SMUT (16+⚠️) thigh riding, soft/playful chad😊

It was eating away at you. 

Your palms were clammy as your nails dug crescent- shaped marks into them, your legs bouncing up and down in your chair, your teeth digging into your bottom lip sharp enough to draw blood. 

You wanted to do this so bad but you had no idea how to ask. The thought of asking him made your stomach twist in knots. 

It all started when Sam told you about it. It had never really crossed your mind until she mentioned it and told you it was a “euphoric experience” and that you just “had to try it with Chad”. 

You and Chad were no stranger to each other’s bodies, much less sex. You loved being intimate with Chad and you guys had experimented with a bunch of different things. 

But riding his thigh? That was something you had definitely not tried yet. 

But now you couldn’t stop thinking about it and you wanted to try it so bad. 

You just didn’t know if Chad would be down for it and you were terrified to ask. 

Watching your handsome boyfriend cook you dinner shirtless dancing around the kitchen in your new apartment didn’t make you any less nervous to ask either. He was just so beautiful and his beauty still intimidated you in the best way possible. 

“Dinner’s ready babe!” he said shuffling over to you, two plates in hand. 

He placed a kiss on the top of your head as he placed your plate in front of you and then sitting beside you. 

“Thank you baby.” you said as you stared at your plate. 

You knew the second you looked at him he would know something was up. 

He smiled at you and watched your expression carefully as you looked at your plate. 

“Let me know if you like this new recipe, Mindy told me I needed to add garlic so I mixed that with the- “ 

He paused and looked directly into your eyes. 

Shit.

“Is everything okay baby?” he asked in a concerned tone as his hand reached over to rub your shoulder.

You swallowed and tried your best to keep your voice from wavering with nerves.

“Mhm, everything’s fine.”

“Doesn’t sound fine to me. What’s bothering you babe?” he said scooting his chair closer to yours.

You put your hands over your face and sighed. There was no getting out of this now. 

“I just- god I can’t do this.” you groaned into your hands. 

Chad pulled your hands from your face and held them in his own. You looked into his eyes and saw nothing but genuine love and concern. You were being dramatic, why couldn’t you just spit it out?

“You know I’m not gonna let you off the hook until you tell me.” 

You swallowed again, trying to prepare yourself for how to word this.

“Um, it’s really nothing babe, I’m fine, I guess I just wanted to ask you if-”

You paused and looked into his eyes again. 

“If we could try something new.” you finally said. 

It took him a second to understand what you were saying, but then he was shifting in his seat, looking at you a little differently than before. There was a glimmer of want and lust in his eyes that gave you butterflies.

His thumb caressed over the back of your hand as he looked at you.

“Of course baby, I’m always down for whatever.” he said smiling at you. 

You felt your nervousness fade away as you took a deep breath. 

“I basically just heard about it from Sam and wanted to see if we could give it a try.” you said shyly. 

“What is it baby?”

You sucked in another deep breath. Here goes nothing.

“I want to ride your thigh.” 

You said it impossibly fast but somehow Chad still understood you because you watched him shift again in his seat, trying to hide the obviously growing bulge beneath his grey joggers. 

“I am so down, you have no idea.” he said with the biggest shiteating grin on his face. 

You threw your head back in laughter in response. 

He was beaming at you as he took your hand and led you up and out of your seat to grab you and carry you bridal style with only one destination in mind. 

He turned his head to kiss you and smiled into the kiss as he laid you down gently on your bed. 

He fell down on top of you and his biceps caged you in as he started to kiss you more passionately, more desperately. 

“You are so insanely sexy when you’re shy.” he murmmured into your mouth.

You smiled into the kiss and grabbed his strong arms as your wrapped your leg around his waist flipping him onto his back. 

“Oh yeah? How’s this for shy?” you teased as you leaned down into another breathless kiss. 

“Fuck, I think I like that even more.” he groaned into your mouth. 

His lower hand stroked the skin on your lower back as you straddled his thigh on either side. 

Chad positioned himself against the headboard as his hands slid up your body to firmly grip your hips. 

Your hands found purchase on his shoulders as you slowly started to grind yourself back and forth on his thigh. 

“Just like that baby, use me.” Chad groaned into your shoulder as he flexed his leg.

You gasped at his words, your mouth falling agape with pleasure.

The friction was intense and you were completely not expecting it to feel this good. You found a rhythm and experimented by switching between moving in a circle and back and forth on his leg. 

You threw your head back in pleasure as Chad gripped your ass and used his hand to grind you harder onto his thigh. 

You dragged your nails down his bare chest and Chad threw his head back against the headboard with an almost guttural groan. 

He was in a trance as he watched you trying so hard to get yourself off. He did his best to try and memorize the way your face contorted when he flexed his muscle a certain way and how it felt to have you like this. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

You looked down to see where your body met Chad’s thigh to see a darker grey spot forming on his joggers. 

“Chad, please.” you begged as you grabbed his shoulders to move yourself faster.

“I got you baby, just keep looking at me.” he rasped.

His hands slid up your lower back as he started lightly bounce his leg up and down.

Everything you were feeling was multiplied and you knew that you couldn’t last much longer like this, not with him looking at you the way he was.

“Mmm Chad, don’t stop please.” you choked out.

“Come on baby, I know you’re close.” he groaned, watching you throw your head back again.

He started to bounce his leg a little faster and it caught you off guard completely.

“I’m so close Chad, you feel so good.” you said as you tilted your head down to connect your lips to his.

Chad knew every single sign your body had to offer like the back of his hand and he knew exactly how to make you come hard enough to see stars, which was exactly what he was about to do.

His hand on your back slipped down across your thigh until his finger was pressing on your clit. The added friction sent you over the edge and you were coming all over his fingers and thigh.

You moaned into the kiss and he took everything you gave him. He fucked you all the way through your high, not stopping until you collapsed onto his chest.

His arms caged around you holding you close as you propped yourself on his chest to stare at him. 

How could you not?

“I wanna watch you do that every single day.” he said stroking your hair.

 “Chad!” you scolded as you playfully hit his chest.

He laughed and smiled before pulling you in for another kiss.

“Baby, I think our dinners’ cold.” you said pulling away. 

“Oh shit you’re right! Let’s go eat.”

You started to ease yourself off of him before he pinned you on your back.

“..After I fuck you at least two more times.” he breathes, merely a few inches from your face.

You grinned as your fingers intertwined with the curls on the back of his neck.

Who were you to turn him down?

[blood-grove]

His Kid (Pup?)

dog!price + human! child reader (gender neutral pronouns)

tws; fluff , fluffy , fluff , minor injury :( , i would say language barriers but lets just say you both can understand each other. no use of y/n sumamry; prices rambles about you! eventually realizing that hes a sucker for you and your his kid now.

Gods if you didn't stop fucking running off when they took this..what'd they'd call themselves? Human a couple of weeks ago he didn't expect to have a basically oversized puppy keeping all of the unit on there toes.

We couldnt really tell if there were old for there species we guess not it took a look for them to learn boundaries especially when we first encountered them they said they were 12 years old it was clear then that 'human' years were different from ours they clearly weren't some old greying dog.

There so damn touchy, Honestly weren't they raised with any manners? Putting there hands in our faces , tugging tails , pulling off my damn hat. They learned there lesson with the random touching when they tried to..'pet' Simon, I know he didn't mean to bite them I could instantly see the flash of guilt in his eyes when he nipped them purely out of how much they had gotten him riled up they've been avoiding him now as of recent but I'm sure the human just needs time the humans skin was fragile the nip was enough to cause it to bleed a candy and bandage later they were fine. I've recently spotted them and Ghost together the human drawing mumbling and rambling on about something as Simon just watched I couldn't help but grin slightly at the sight, They had there calm moments the slow days around the base I could hear them making those weird noises that they do..'giggling?' it sounded more like a little piglet squealing when them and Soap would be running around base. Oh right them and Soap truly a pair together whether that's a good thing or not its still to be decided thought it was sure Soap was the perfect dog to help them tucker out enough for a nap, Honestly out of all of us I'm pretty sure Soap is reason for most of there scratches and bruises somethings in the earlier weeks forgetting that there not a adult dog despite being around the size of one they were easily knocked over plus easily scratched with Soaps claws accidentally grated against them.

Pretty sure I've been recently been hearing Soap filing down his nails(finally bloody fuckin' hell I was half convinced I'd have to force him to the groomers) to a manageable level which is a wine in my book no more hearing the damn bastard slip and slid on the smooth floor. The pup is great around Gaz a healthy medium between Soap and Ghost you could easily find them both laying around even with Pup laying on Gaz's stomach as he rambled on about something Gaz seemed to be alright with the petting we all eventually assumed that was how the human showed affection but of course there's still boundaries between us so they human learned to ask before petting us. I'm not to fond of petting but sometimes the human will come in my office and just sit there either watching him work or looking around the office just something about them is so..I don't even know the word they eventually one day laid against me I didn't know really what to do so I just stayed still eventually laying down letting them cuddle closer. There're pretty damn cute. Shit. I just sighed as I gently pulled them closer as I went back to finishing up the report..I hoped we'd keep em' for bit longer.

[callsign-rogueone]

intimacy alphabet - b.s.

Brennan Sorrengail x reader words: 1.4k-ish 🏷: NSFW. all of it. I tried to keep this gender neutral again and I think I succeeded? mentions of penetrative sex, oral, fingering, soft d/s dynamics, the usual stuff. It took me a while to figure him out, but I think I'm onto something here. lemme know -- always down to discuss my main man. some more spicy bren coming soon, hehe

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he's a very responsible and caring guy -- he’s making sure you’re okay, mending any bruises or soreness he might have caused and cleaning the both of you up, giving you soft affirmations and I-love-you’s all the while, especially if he was rough with you. helps get you dressed in clean clothes and then it’s cuddle time. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

his hands — because you like them so much, and because you make the prettiest sounds when he touches you.

your hips — he loves grabbing them to pull you closer, digging his fingers into the softness there when he’s fucking you, kissing them before he goes down on you…

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he likes to cum inside of you a little more than he should. he’s still in denial about what that means, though. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he’s thought about messing around with you in the assembly room, and he really likes that idea, but he has a reputation to maintain, and it would probably make his work a lot more difficult— he already has a hard enough time getting work done in his office, his mind often wandering to the things you’ve done in there.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

you’ve had plenty of practice with each other over the years. he absolutely knows what he’s doing. he’s not a naive college kid anymore, he’s a man, and he fucks like it. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

bending you over the desk in his office and giving it to you nice and deep and a little rough, your cheek smushed into the tabletop and your nails digging into the wood — if you mess up the papers or scratch the desk, he can just mend it back, anyway. and of course he’s putting up a sound shield, so you don’t need to muffle those cute little whimpers while he uses you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he’s pretty serious but he loves to tease. likes watching you squirm and drawing things out until you beg.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

very clean guy. he’s doing some routine maintenance. and yes, it does.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he’s a very caring and giving person, and that definitely extends into the bedroom. he can be incredibly tender and romantic with you if the mood is right, but sometimes you both want things to be a little rougher, and he’s very good at that too. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I don’t see him handling things himself very often. if he feels the need, he’s finding you for help — or calling you into his office, where you’re going to take care of it together. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

re: the above,,, he has a mild free-use kink… he loves the idea of either one of you dropping everything to please the other whenever they ask. it’s usually him asking, but it goes both ways — if you walk into his office and tell him you need him, he’s putting down the paperwork and strategy plans and getting on his knees for you without hesitation.

mild authority kink (more on that later). 

dare I say a tiny bit of an innocence kink? especially if you’re younger than him… I wanna write an age gap fic for him so bad ughhh 😩

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

we’ve established that the office is at the top of the list along with your bedroom, and the attached bathroom (over the counter in front of the mirror, in the shower…) not really anywhere else.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

bat your eyelashes at him and call him Lieutenant Colonel in that sweet, innocent  voice and there’s a very good chance that you’re going to be face-down, ass-up in the next ten minutes.

also, if either of you had to be away from the other for more than two days, the moment you’re reunited + the revolution business is handled and you’re behind closed doors, you’re fucking.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

he doesn’t want to seriously hurt you or cause you pain. he knows that he can mend any injury, but he’d really rather not have to in the first place.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he will never ever refuse head from you. he fucking loves it. it’s the ultimate stress reliever for him. holds your hair back for you and tells you what a good girl/boy you are, how pretty you look on your knees for him.

happy to return the favor, and really good at it, too. he purposely keeps his hair just long enough for you to tug on when he’s making you feel good.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he can do both, and does them well. fast and rough when he’s mad / jealous or if you’re being a brat, slow and deep and loving when you’re reunited after being apart, after a near-death experience, or whenever either of you needs a little extra TLC. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

they happen quite often, but they’re never quick enough — you always end up late to whatever you have to do afterward. the other assembly members know not to go to his office to find him if he’s late for a meeting. he’ll get there when he gets there; right now he has very important things to handle.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

there was more experimenting when you were younger, and still figuring things out. you know what you like now, but you still manage to surprise each other every now and then. he’s learned a lot from your romance novels, especially the pages you’ve bookmarked and the things you’ve highlighted etc etc.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

his stamina is pretty high. he fucks. he can go an easy 2-3 rounds every time, but you don’t feel the need to go all night anymore. however, if you make a joke about him getting old, etc., he’s going to have to prove to you that he still has it, and fuck you until you cry / apologize.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I could see modern!Bren liking to use a vibe / etc on you, but I don’t think such a thing exists in FW. 🤷🏻‍♀️ 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he loves to tease, namely pretending to not understand your vague pleas for him to touch you, etc. or making you repeat yourself when you’re struggling to form words because he’s making you feel good. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he’s usually not too loud, mostly just some soft panting / groaning / praise. cannot shut the fuck up when you go down on him though. sounds really pretty when he cums. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

loves loves loves making out with you. he could do it for hours, if you both weren’t so needy / constantly under time pressure being revolution leaders. it’s just so nice to sit in his lap and kiss him, holding each other close and letting your worries and stress disappear for a while. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he’s built so nicely. he’s strong and muscular, but still a little soft and perfect to cuddle with. has a fair few scars on his body, including one over his heart from the arrow that nearly killed him in the battle of Aretia. you kiss it every time you see it, as a reminder of how glad you are that he’s still here with you. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

pretty high, but you certainly aren’t complaining.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

if you’re in bed, then pretty quickly after cleanup etc. if you’re anywhere else, he’ll usually have it in him to either make the hike upstairs to your room, or to go about your day after a few minutes of cuddles.