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sugar-coat-it · 3 months

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HEY!! Your smut is insane!! could i request something like matty and reader mutual masturbation telling eachother what to do?? 😋🤘🏻

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP YOU GOT IT BABE

I thought it would be fun if they’re low-key bickering throughout it while still telling each other what to do, but it ends with them just being desperate to watch the other cum, totally forgetting the silly argument

Uhhh yeah this started as a blurb and got pretty long, so, hope you like it anon!

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“Mm- no, you don’t get to touch me, not after what you pulled,” you murmur, pushing Matty back onto the pillows and off of your frame.

Every fiber of you is screaming to just let your pride go and just allow him to keep running his hands over your body, pressing searing kisses to your neck and jawline. You’re well aware that the fires he sets under your skin can only be fully put out by him, but you’re also stubborn… at least for now. Matty just tuts, rolling his eyes at you and gazing off to the side, clearly fuming at the idea of his actions having consequences. Before you’d gotten back home, you’d been out at a pub where he’d been a complete and total prick to a guy at the bar whom he was convinced was trying to sleep with you. Death stares, possessive fingers digging into your waist, the whole ordeal. The whole car ride home had been tense, Matty’s jaw clenched with bitterness as he kept one commanding hand on your leg, his cold rings pressing into the plush skin of your thigh as he drove. His eyes were intensely trained on the road the whole time, deafening silence between you. Although he was being ridiculous, it sure did get you hot and bothered to see him so passionately envious. He obviously felt the same impulse to some degree, because the moment the door shut behind you, he was crushing his lips to yours, licking into your mouth ravenously as he pulled you flush against his body. The two of you had stumbled into the bedroom, messily shedding jackets to the floor as your eager hands roamed.

“Seriously? Are you still on about the wanker from the pub?” he scoffs, unfastening his tie with deft fingers, working quickly until it’s hanging loose around his neck.

“Yeah, I am! You were so rude to him when he was just being nice!” you exclaim, reaching for the zipper on your dress, trying to relieve some of the heat simmering beneath the fabric.

“That’s a ridiculous thing to say. He told you you were… fucking, what did he say? “mothering, cunt slaying”?”

“He was gay, you asshole!” you snort, your dress now a heap on the floor along with Matty’s button-down shirt.

“How was I supposed to know that? I don’t even have a clue as to what that fuckin’ means!” “Matthew, you’re so out of touch.”

His lip twitches with annoyance, but that doesn’t stop him from staring right at your tits, his hand tensing with the urge to reach out and greedily touch and grab what he believes is rightfully his. Just as hypocritical, you feel heat surge deep inside you as you glance down at the thick protrusion in his dark slacks, drinking in the sight of him leaning back against the pillows with his inked chest bared to you for your viewing pleasure. You’re both at an impasse, too proud to “lose” by reaching out for the other, which leaves only one option to relieve yourselves of your frustrations.

“Well if I apparently can’t touch you, I’m not gonna sit here like an idiot with a hard-on,” he murmurs, cocking his head at you with a hint of sass.

“What, are you gonna go have a wank in the bathroom, then?” you gape with disbelief, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Nope. Why should I? It’s my bed too,” he replies simply, reaching for his belt and undoing it, watching as you start practically salivating at the way his hands flex around the buckle.

The belt lands on the floor with a clank, but instead of taking off his trousers, he slides his hand down his chest slowly, sensually, taking his time as if you’re not even there. He trails his fingers down his stomach, his pace is entirely unhurried as he reaches for the crotch of his pants. Matty feels over his erection with the palm of his hand first, letting his eyes flutter closed as he tilts his head back against the pillow, gritting his teeth at the way he’s teasing himself. You can’t help the way you softly gasp when he suddenly grabs himself through the fabric, keeping a firm hold on his cock with a grunt, the veins in his hand bulging salaciously. Matty loosens his grip now, tracing the outline of his erection with two fingers, lingering on the tip just enough to make his hips jump forward with need. He has one hand casually behind his head while the other skillfully undoes the button and zipper of his pants, and only now does he crack one eye open just enough to watch the way you’re squirming, your face burning at the shameless display he’s putting on for you. You straighten up when you feel him looking at you, your face screwing up into a frustrated pout, not wanting him to know how whipped he’s got you. He just chuckles lowly, mirth crinkling at the corners of his eyes while he’s lifting his hips to pull his pants down, knowing all too well what he’s doing to you from the way your thighs clench.

Indignance strikes in you like lightning as you realize that he shouldn’t be the only one enjoying himself. He’s the one who was being an ass tonight after all; you should be making him remember the power you undeniably hold over him too. You begin to mirror him, letting out an exaggerated sigh as you slide your hands up your sides and grope your breasts through the cups of your bra, staring back at him with lustfully lidded eyes. He couldn’t be more pleased, a sleazy smirk tugging at his lips as he stares right back, testing your restraint further and further as the room gets hotter.

“Mhm, that’s it, keep touching your tits love, you’re great wank material,” Matty winks, his hand now snaking under the elastic band of his briefs as he starts stroking himself with a sigh.

You huff, sending him an annoyed look at him treating you like his personal porno, but you’re even more frustrated that his hand is hidden beneath the cover of his underwear. You can only see the outline of his cock as beads of precum soak into the dark fabric, his wrist languidly moving up and down his shaft as his hips shift back and forth slightly.

“What is it? You wanna see?” he coos before letting out a deep moan just to really put the nail in the coffin.

You’d like to call him arrogant, a prick maybe, especially because of the boastful, pride-ridden look on his face as he lazily jerks himself off. But instead what comes out is:

“Yeah…”

It’s against your better judgment, but you can’t say you really regret a thing when he pushes the elastic past his weeping erection, letting you get a full view of the way he’s slowly circling his thumb around the tip of his cock as he just smiles that stupid, charming smile. It’s enough motivation to eradicate your inhibitions as you spread your legs out atop the sheets, hooking your finger into your ruined panties and sliding them to the side. Matty is starting to lose his cool now, his movements getting a little quicker, his eyes widening just a bit as you keep one hand cupping your breast while the other ventures between your thighs. He lets out a choked groan at the sight of you taking your fingers and spreading yourself open for him to watch, collecting the honey that’s gathered at your sopping hole and dragging it up to your clit. You moan breathily, biting your lip as you begin circling two fingers around the swollen bundle of nerves, the slight sense of relief making your head swim.

“You can go faster than that, can’t you?” you tempt, having had enough of his little lax pleasure session.

Matty’s lips press into a thin line as you attempt to order him around, muttering something under his breath. Yet, he still obliges, his hand moving a little swifter as he drags his fist up all the way from the base to the head, twisting his wrist the way you usually do it. A prideful smile twitches at the corners of your mouth before you can stop it while you’re drawing tight circles around your clit the way Matty knows you like it. However, nothing could ever compare to the way his calloused fingers rub at you until you’re seeing stars, not even your own hand.

“Want you to take your bra off,” Matty commands in return, his breathing getting heavier as his chest heaves, he’s trying not to buck up into his hand and appear too eager.

You move as quickly as possible, not wanting to be left aching for too long as you move to unclasp your bra, needing both hands. The moment your bra is sliding down your shoulders, your hand slithers back between your legs, rubbing little figure eights on your clit to make your toes curl and your head tilt back, your hair spilling down your shoulders.

“You could have been the one touching my tits if you hadn’t been so mean,” you pout spitefully, grabbing a handful of one of your breasts with your free hand.

“Do you even know how to make yourself cum anymore? I’ve spoiled you too much haven’t I?” Matty snaps back, completely ignoring your little comment despite how badly he’d love to lick and suck at your perfect breasts right now.

He’s fisting his cock a little harder as he watches you pleasure yourself, knowing damn well he would be doing a better job, which only makes him further ticked off. You gasp as you pinch your nipple between two fingers the way he does, sending a harsh pang of need straight to your core. Meanwhile, Matty makes a frustrated grunting noise as he tries to recreate the way your lovely hands slicked with his precum would grasp and pump him time and time again. The both of you are ironically unable to get off unless you mimic the way the other’s hands work.

“Have you ever heard that jealousy is a disease?” you mention sarcastically between little gasps for breath, your cunt fluttering around nothing.

“That’s nice, princess. Two fingers inside, now.”

Wordlessly, you follow his instructions, whimpering as you coat your fingers with your arousal before sinking them inside your needy hole. Matty’s eyes are trained on the space between your thighs, his jaw going slack as he watches your digits disappear inside you and then reappear even more drenched. His strokes are getting jerkier, he’s cursing under his breath as he tries to resist delving between your legs and taking care of you himself. His chocolatey curls bounce with his movements, a thin sheen of sweat glistening across his chest and his forehead.

“Don’t like being punished for wanting to keep what’s mine, y’know. Stick your tongue out,” he grunts, giving himself a particularly hard squeeze.

“So possessive,” you purr, obliging his little fantasy because you know exactly what he wants to see.

A cheeky glint in your eyes, you let your tongue slip past your lips as you pant, relishing in the way Matty’s cock twitches sharply in his fist as he stares at you, unable to help the way he whines when a drop of saliva drips from your pliant tongue onto your tits. You know how absolutely depraved you must look, fingering yourself while moaning with your tongue hanging out of your mouth. The things you do for love (and good sex).

“Shit, that’s a lovely view, ain’t it? S’better when you’re not talking too. C’mon, don’t slow down,” he prattles, his voice smooth and dark like tinted glass.

“Only if you fuck your fist for me properly,” you interject, feeling just as worthy of making sensual demands.

Matty scoffs like he’s above doing something so vulgar, but the moment he sees that you’re in fact slowing your movements down, he’s snapping his hips up into his fist, groaning far too loudly as he clenches his hand around his shaft. Sufficiently pleased, you go back to sticking your tongue out like his obedient little sweetheart while you continue to pump your fingers in and out of yourself. Matty’s eyes roll back with fluttering lashes as he thrusts upwards over and over, his abs tensing with the effort of keeping up his relentless pace. You feel yourself shudder the moment the whites of his eyes disappear and he’s gazing at you again, the eye contact makes warmth rush over your skin in a familiar, pleasant wave. God, the obscene symphony of sounds from your separate pleasure sessions would be enough to make anyone blush. You’re both starting to forget why you’re playing this little game in the first place, heads hazy with raw desire.

“Getting close…” you murmur, the challenging tone of your voice fading into a softer sort of desire, like you can’t help but appreciate the absolute treat of your gorgeous boyfriend before you.

Matty’s gaze softens in return, his eyebrows sloping with a pining sort of look instead of being furrowed with intensity, his curls are sticking to his forehead, damp with his sweat. His breaths are coming in short gasps, moans freely spilling from his lips as his eyes wildly flick from your longing expression to your breasts, to your diligent fingers. Every little sound you make only encourages him to go harder, to fuck faster, the bed creaking louder as the headboard repeatedly meets the wall behind it.

“Ohh, I know, I know, me too. Shit, you’re so good, love. So perfect for me with that pretty pink cunt of yours spread open, fuck,” he rambles, his words tapering off into a whimper.

His filthy words have your cheeks burning, heat prickling at them as you sigh out, your hips rocking into your own hand as you feel the tension gathering deep inside. It feels like it’s all getting ready to snap at any moment, and Matty can see it plastered all over your face. He knows you well enough to know the way your eyes widen when you’re going to climax, he’d made it his personal mission to learn all your tells. The whole pub incident might as well have never happened with how intent you both are to watch the other fall to pieces, eagerly relying on the other’s pleasure to get off.

“Please, please, Matty, wanna cum with you,” you whisper, your voice quivering much like your legs.

“Shit, yeah? Go ahead love, gonna watch you make a mess, okay? I’m right here,” he breathes, restraining himself to only look into your eyes as you start to lose yourself.

You’re falling weightlessly beyond the edges of pleasure, but you force yourself to stay upright enough to gaze back at Matty while your orgasm begins to crash over you in waves, your walls clenching and fluttering around your fingers while your lips part with a silent cry. Matty’s not far behind you, especially not with the scene before him of his perfect girl falling apart just for him. Hot spurts of cum cascade over his fist and his stomach, adorning his tattooed skin with pearly ropes as he moans garbled praises of your name.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck,” he groans, his hips pistoning up into his closed fist with sloppy, blissed-out thrusts, not once breaking the shiver-inducing eye contact.

Your chest is still heaving, you’ve barely even started coming down from your high before you’re lunging for Matty, and he’s reaching out just as fast, his hands finding your waist like they’ve made their home there. You let your full body weight lean into him as you kiss him longingly like it’s been years since you’ve felt their touch. Neither of you seems to mind the way his cum is spreading all over your stomach and your tits between your flushed bodies, you’re too busy clutching at each other and locking lips like overzealous teen lovers.

“Didn’t feel as good as when you do it, Matty,” you croon against his mouth, your hands adoringly sliding into his hair.

“I know, sweetheart,” he pants, his thumbs tenderly rubbing little circles against your hip bones, “please, can I give you proper treatment now? Wanna make up for it, I was bein’ an arse, m’sorry.”

You just nod, looking up at him like he’d hung each individual star in your own personal sky as his warm breath fans over your lips. The glint in Matty’s eyes at your agreement tells you that he’s going to be spending quite some time worshipping you tonight, lovingly taking you apart with his hands until you’ve had enough. All is well in the world.

#TEEHEE #this was a fun one #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #the 1975 smut #the 1975 x reader #matty healy fic #anon asks #matty healy imagine #matty healy fanfiction

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livelovecaliforniadreams · 2 months

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Chenford Crumbs Per Episode: Episode 6x2 The Hammer

#chenford crumbs #this was a fun one #we were fed this episode #6x2 #the hammer #chenford #tim x lucy #tim bradford #lucy chen #melissa o'neil #eric winter #love #the rookie #daddy cop on repeat

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fulgurbugs · 7 months

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For outfit suggestions

Alabasta Ace + Luffy outfit swap

Ace + Luffy + Yamato matching outfits (be it each others or someone elses?)

Sure!

#fuck it we oden wb and roger #one piece #myart #fanart #doodle time 😎#this was a fun one

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post-it-notes7 · 5 months

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So… does Mir Authur know about the whole entire Mir Falspar passing out situation ?

He's heard.

#post's rambles #mir arthur #mir nonsurat #mir falspar #galaxy soldier army #post's doodle bin #I may have quite possibly intended to reveal this little tidbit to the story a month ago and then put it off for a million years #but here it is now!#and I am once again experimenting with comics as if I have any clue what's going on #my desire to make every mirrorverse comic in color is constantly at war with my desire to actually color them #this was a fun one

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juice-enjoyer · 6 months

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why standest thou afar off, o lord? why hidest thou thyself in times of trouble?

#ultrakill #gabriel ultrakill #referenced from 'archangel gabriel' but nathalie chavieve #this was a fun one #my art

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mochiwei · 1 year

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I don't really go here, but if you're still doing the Palette thing, what about BOTW Link using Citric Acid?

BOTW Link in Citric Acid for you, anon! Also I love the sketch of this one so much so here it is as a lil’ treat 🥰💕

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comradekatara · 3 months

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In your modern au who in the gang goes to college/grad school and what subjects do they study? would they end up at schools close to home or go far away? How do there relationships change after highschool and with people moving away?

okay wow that’s a great question but also. a lot.

aang is a year below katara so his top choice school is just. the school katara goes to. it’s small and affordable and he studies philosophy and religion (but also takes any sort of fun elective offered to him) and joins a lot of clubs and makes a lot of friends and generally just has a nice time. he and katara overlap for three years but after she graduates they still live together, so he basically sees her every day anyway. it’s nice :)

katara genuinely considers not going to college but then she gets a sports scholarship she’d be a fool to reject so she’s like “fine, i’ll go, but i’m gonna phone it in the entire time.” she assumes that college will basically just be like high school, yet another prison where she will be forced to do math against her will. but she actually finds that she kind of enjoys some of her classes, and she can devote way more time to sports, and azula isn’t there (a weight has been lifted off her shoulders truly), and she actually meets a whole group of people who don’t find her intimidating and abrasive, but instead share her interests and actually organize with her. also, the fact that sokka isn’t there means that she doesn’t constantly have to compare herself to an impossible standard, and she finds that she actually enjoys learning when she gets to go at her own pace. and in fact…. she’s actually a great writer???? and really enjoys theory and philosophy and criticism and history and sociology and literature????? and she might actually be really fucking smart????? she graduates with honors. but there’s absolutely no way she’s pursuing grad school lmao. everyone knows that shit is a scam.

sokka goes to princeton for undergrad because, and i quote, “it’s nearby.” full ride, obviously. he double majors in physics and engineering, and also accidentally fulfills an art history minor without even noticing. everyone assumes that he’ll get a phd (at least one), but katara keeps insisting that grad school is a scam and so is the ivy league. and it’s not even that sokka necessarily disagrees with her, he just thinks that those are bold words coming from the girl who fell for a pyramid scheme. twice.

zuko goes to a small liberal arts college for undergrad and spends years attempting to justify his choice of going to a smaller, slightly less prestigious school by majoring in something dignified and respectable, like econ or business or engineering. none of which he is any good at. but eventually, after enough time spent beyond ozai’s purview, zuko just goes “fuck it” and double majors in theater and classics. his focus is on ancient greek drama. he then does a poetry mfa wherein he attempts to write on earth we’re briefly gorgeous without just rewriting on earth we’re briefly gorgeous (many such cases). he complains about his program constantly and how fake and pretentious it all is, but anyone who knows him can tell that it’s clearly the most fun he’s ever had.

suki doesn’t go to college. she figures that there’s no point in blowing money she doesn’t have and wasting precious valuable years of her time getting a fancy little bachelor’s degree she’ll never use for a job that doesn’t actually require one. and she doesn’t have any adult figures in her life to convince her that college is necessary (although sokka does spend a full week going “but are you sure…?” before suki realizes that she can just shut him up forever by claiming she can’t afford it). she continues to teach at the dojo, but because she basically already lives in her truck, she’s always driving over to princeton to crash in sokka’s dorm. she spends a lot of time just hanging out in the library while he does work, and finds that she doesn’t even need to go to classes to learn new things by herself. it’s funny how a formal education can make learning seem so much less interesting than it actually is. if she had actually gone to college, she probably would’ve spent the entire time blowing off classes and doing as little work as possible, but since she has no incentive to learn, she actually does. by the time sokka has graduated, suki is basically qualified to practice medicine, could tell you the entire history of the inca empire, and is basically an expert in mycology. and it didn’t cost a cent.

toph considers suki an inspiration, and by the time she graduates, she is already so estranged from her parents that she also has the agency to just blow off that whole thing. she moves in with sokka and mai and just follows them around. she sits in on their lectures whenever she feels like it (they claim she is mai’s little sister who is visiting her), and otherwise just kind of lounges about. occasionally sokka will be like “you know you could’ve just… gone to this school, right??? you’re literally a child prodigy and your parents are crazy rich.” to which toph just shrugs like “yeah……but nah.”

mai goes to princeton with sokka. it wasn’t even her top choice school, but once she realized that it’s where sokka was going, she couldn’t think of anywhere else that she would rather be. they’re roommates since freshman year and are basically inseparable. everyone assumes they’re dating, but sokka’s like “nah she’s gay, she’s just really clingy :)” which mai hates because he’s totally ruining her street cred. she’s a cs major, but she basically accumulates the credits for a math minor, a physics minor, and an english minor because all the cs classes are so easy for her (she first taught herself how to code when she was like six). sokka somehow convinces her to join his physics program for grad school, but after a year she drops out because she finds it so miserable. they continue living together, of course, while mai gets really into making esoteric indie games. zuko doesn’t really understands how video games work, but she still bounces her ideas off him because he’s the most ruthless critic she knows.

ty lee goes to college because it’s the sort of thing a girl from a decently respectable family does, but she’s pretty envious of suki’s lifestyle and wishes she could just blow off the entire thing. she goes to a decent school, one that appears acceptable on resumes but not so elite that it will raise any employer’s standards too high; she enjoys being underestimated. being in an entirely new environment gives her the opportunity to test out new personas free of consequence, and eventually she realizes that she’s kind of wasting her talents by pretending to be dumber than she is, so she actually applies herself and does really well. but then she gets bored of applying herself because now everyone expects too much of her and she misses when a B was considered a good grade. she’s technically a dance major because it’s the only thing she does consistently across three years (she graduates early), but she goes through different phases where she’s really into various fields, including but not limited to: abnormal psych, quantum physics, philosophical ethics, north african literature, microbiology, and women’s rugby. she keeps in touch with azula, mai, and suki, but she also just goes through phases of avoiding contact with all her former friends entirely. it’s fun to be aloof.

and last but certainly not least, azula goes to harvard for undergrad, and then harvard law. in fact, there is no other school azula could ever go to. even if she had lived on the other side of the globe, and not new jersey (or as she likes to call it, “manhattan”), azula would still go to harvard. she truly believes that it is the only school on earth capable of withstanding her towering intellect. anyone who found her insufferable in high school is in for a rude surprise once they realize that within a semester, harvard has somehow made her ten times worse. she’s technically pre-law, but she also studies pre-med and engineering, just in case. which is far too much for any one human to handle, and she ends up suffering a nervous breakdown during junior year where she eats nothing but cheetos for a week straight and tries to cut her own bangs with a pair of kiddie scissors. zuko and sokka go to cambridge to stage an intervention (mai and ty lee were too busy washing their hair that weekend) and help her out. you can tell it’s bad because she actually agrees to go to therapy. eventually she gets through it and decides to take a gap year before law school. she spends her gap year as a paralegal at a highly prestigious firm, and within the first couple years of graduating law school, she makes junior partner there. and they never speak of the cheetos and uneven bangs incident ever again.

in terms of who keeps in touch with whom, obviously mai, sokka, suki, and toph still hang out all the time after high school. mai and sokka are roommates for their entire twenties basically, and toph and suki pretty much also live with them. mai and sokka move to new york after princeton. and after zuko graduates, he also moves in with them. aang and katara sort of resist the idea of living in a big city, and instead decide to travel the world after aang graduates. but then when they go to visit sokka & co. katara realizes that it’s always secretly been her lifelong dream to work at a really cute little overpriced coffeeshop in brooklyn, and so she and aang get an apartment in like. red hook or something. ty lee actually moves to california, so they all assume they won’t see her often, but she flies back every time one of her sisters has a birthday, so they actually run into her pretty frequently. eventually she moves back to the east coast, and pretty soon after that she and mai uhaul together. none of them really hear from azula except for mai and ty lee, who are in a semi-active groupchat with her. but she and zuko reconnect after ozai’s funeral, and she gradually befriends the rest of the gaang, even if she never quite gets along with katara. so yeah, there are a few years where most of them don’t really talk to one another, but eventually they do manage to reconnect and stay in each other’s lives. they do all make other friends though. god could you imagine.

#averyho #asks #the gaang and #modern au #this was a fun one #the inherent comedy of being from new jersey. etc. etc.

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crazy-ache · 2 months

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Elucien….number eight 🥵 please?

8 ...secrecy.

"What did you want to show me again? So far from the party?" Lucien turned to look at Elain, whose shoulder was now brushing against his arm as they stood in the cramped proximity of her garden shed.

From the far distance, the sound of stringed instruments blurred into the horizon, a faint reminder of her sister's ongoing mating ceremony. "Well," Elain licked her lips nervously, turning to face him fully. Carefully, she pulled out a thin box from a drawer. "I thought you could finally remove the enchantments from the gloves you had gifted me."

Lucien slowly turned, looking down at the familiar gloves he had spelled years ago now. He was quiet as she continued on. "You see...I don't like being treated like something fragile. Like how everyone treats me. Something delicate and precious."

His gaze dragged from the gloves, to her trembling fingers, up her flushed neck, until they found her parted lips. He raised a single eyebrow, his strong, warm hands sliding into her grasp until they were both holding the pair of gloves together, flesh brushing against flesh.

"But Elain," his grip tightened on the gloves, taking it from her shaky hold, from where she radiated longing and desire. He placed it carefully behind him on the shelf. She did not move a muscle, her brown eyes wide. "You are precious. You are precious to me."

Lucien stepped closer, his lips grazing her cheek. Her shudder was an invitation, a beckoning for more. A burning whisper next to her ear made the air escape from her lungs. "And I intend to shatter you to pieces."

It didn't matter if she couldn't breathe, because then his breath was on hers, and as his arms circled around her, they became one. Lucien crashed into her, hands at her neck, then her back, then firmly at her backside until she found herself on the small table of her shed. Pots and tools clattered on the ground.

Lucien's kiss grew in force and hunger for her lips and skin, and Elain felt herself break into pieces again and again and again.

And only Lucien Vanserra could put her back together.

Kiss prompts.

#pro elucien #elucien #elain x lucien #ask box #this was a fun one #kiss prompts

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metalheadmickey · 4 months

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climbing light

On a beach in Mexico, Ian and Mickey greet the day the best way they know how. 🌅

Tags: Lovemaking, Fluff, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Vacation, Sex on the Beach, Tequila for Breakfast, Marathon Sex, Post-Canon Word Count: 2.8k Rating: Explicit

It’s barely dawn, but Mickey’s never been more awake. He’s never been more alive, even. Fuck dreams. This is better.

read on ao3 🍹

#god they're such saps #this was a fun one #gallavich fic #gallavich #my fic #shameless

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nerves-nebula · 6 months

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Jesus & Judas from Judas by Jeff Loveness, commission for @pinkishflowersilverycoin

#nnstuff #judas iscariot #jesus christ #judas x jesus #jesus x judas #this was a fun one #no way i did that comics art style justice tho #nnart

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oxygennarcosis · 2 months

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poster design for Gilbert & Sullivan's Iolanthe for a local community opera company

#iolanthe #gilbert & sullivan #illustration #artists on tumblr #fairy #there goes the last three weeks of my life #this was a fun one #i'm really proud of how it came out #oxygennarcosis

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desert--mouse · 6 days

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prompt from @dreamlandcreations: what if paul sees what could have been if he was born a girl and he falls in love with feyd who is supposed to be his husband... how would paul try to get feyd in this life?

The dream left him unsettled. Paul Atreides jolted awake, mind still waxy and pliable after too much time spent in the sand and a belly full of spiced liquor. Was it even a dream? It felt like a vision, cleaving away from whimsy and falling squarely into an alternate timeline. Into a life when he had been born as the Bene Gesserit intended: daughterhood, perfected. He blinked blearily at the window. Past the savannah curtain, dunes crested the horizon. Arrakeen slept. Chani Kynes slept too, her chest rising and falling as she breathed beside him.

Paul returned to the vision, fingering through it like a tapestry with many pockets. In it he was young and foolhardy, bare feet smacking slippery moss in an orchard on Caladan, running from pale hands that snatched for his wrists. A mouthful of briny wind was spat from the sea. The person behind him was the echo of someone he’d seen before in this life. Feyd-Rautha grabbed his waist and spun him around, planting a kiss on the corner of his mouth, clumsily missing the place he’d intended to land. In the dream Paul was fifteen at first. Time swiveled out of focus and he was seventeen, panting hard against Feyd’s chin as they sparred or fought or fucked in the training chamber. And then he was eighteen and dressed in white. The gown was beautiful. It reminded him of his mother. Feyd-Rautha wore black. He was crisply dressed and standing straightbacked at the end of a long aisle dusted in petals.

In that vision, somewhere on a timeline near enough to this one to make itself known, Paul Atreides had married Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. He gulped. His throat went dry and his palms grew sweaty. Yesterday Feyd-Rautha had been detained by Fedaykin patrolling a slot canyon in the north. He was being kept in a cell in the bowels of the citadel on Arrakeen. It wasn’t the first time Paul had questioned his visions, but it was the first time he’d slipped out of bed in the dead of night to prove one of them wrong. He dressed slowly and silently, paying close attention to Chani’s restful sleep. Once his trousers were tightened, he tied his leather crysknife sheath around his waist and left their bedchamber, sneaking through each hall until he came to stand before Feyd-Rautha’s intimate prison. He shouldn’t go in. He knew that already. But the dream kept doubling behind his eyelids, daring him to push through the door and test destiny. Or entertain the idea of a different one manifesting in this lifetime, altering the course of Lisan al-Gaib.

Paul unlocked the chamber and stepped inside. The darkness didn’t allow for much, but he saw the outline of Feyd-Rautha’s lean form seated on the edge of a plain mattress, elbows propped on his thighs, hands dangling in front of him. He stared at Paul with lazy hatred.

“Muad’Dib,” Feyd-Rautha rasped, laughing deep in his throat. The bandages around his torso were dark in the middle. Blood from the wound he’d sustained from the Fedaykin must’ve leaked through. “I’m honored.”

“You’re lucky to be alive,” Paul said.

“Would’ve preferred a warrior’s death.”

“I came alone.”

“I can see that, cousin.”

Paul searched for something more to say. He came up empty, still fixated on the vision. “Have you ever dreamed of me, Harkonnen?”

Feyd-Rautha lifted his face. His smile was as small as it had been with Paul’s crysknife buried in his chest, another vision come to fruition in another life. There was no lamp in the small inlet where Feyd was being held. Light from a glow globe in the hall cast a glimmer on his face and made the line of his nose and his cupid’s bow sharper. In the dream, Paul had found him extraordinary. Standing there, staring at him, Paul understood why.

“I dreamed my own death once,” Feyd-Rautha said. He shrugged and stood. His torso was bare except for the cloth bandages. Black trousers fell low on his waist. “I didn’t know it was you holding the blade until yesterday when I saw the great Lisan al-Gaib for the first time. But here I am, alive.”

“I asked if you’d dreamed of me,” Paul said sternly. “Have you or not?”

“Maybe.” His wolfish smile grew. Feyd stepped forward, approaching with slow steps. He listed his head and his naked brow furrowed. “Why do you ask, Atreides?”

Paul should’ve expected that question. His mind was still fuzzy from the spice liquor, his movements slow. When Feyd aimed a strike at his arm, Paul narrowly deflected. They jostled for a brief moment. Paul tried to sweep out his legs, Feyd dodged. Feyd-Rautha attempted to catch Paul’s jaw with his fist, Paul grabbed his wrist and spun him, pinning Feyd roughly to the stone wall.

Paul jammed his crysknife underneath Feyd’s chin. “Because in another life, you were given to me.” Paul gritted the confession between his clenched teeth. He pressed the edge of Shai Hulud’s fang to Feyd’s milky throat. “You were mine.”

“Is that right?” Feyd laughed, craning away from the crysknife.

“We were married, Feyd,” Paul snapped.

Feyd-Rautha’s expression turned from coy to curious. “You’re a bit feisty for my tastes, Atreides — ”

Paul inhaled forcefully. “And you’re a bit cocky for mine.”

“And yet here we are.” Feyd’s crooked smile curved. He tipped his face toward Paul’s, allowing the crysknife to dent his flesh, then split it, leaking red onto the sacred weapon. Their lips faintly touched. “Here we are.”

#dune #paul atreides #feydpaul #feyd rautha #feyd x paul #paulfeyd #dune fanfiction #feydpaul filet #dune ficlet #feydpaul prompt #this was a fun one #it's not super canon but it's kinda close

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