[stuckinapril]

Most anti phone advice is so inane and regurgitated to me but one thing I’ve been thinking about for days is “social media is okay, but the real danger comes in when you think your phone should be your go to during your limited pockets of leisure” like that’s literally the truest thing ever

[stuckinapril]

It really is true that after a long shift or a hard study session or a tiring workout the first thing I think to do is doom scroll to “reward” myself………. But as much as I try to combat my screen I’ve never truly delved into why my phone should be my go to during my downtime. Like why is it the reward . Why is it not taking a nap. Or getting a treat. Or calling a friend . Or even reading a book. It’s like I do those things w the idea in mind that that’s when I’m “on” but what if they rly should be my downtime rewards instead of phone time

[stuckinapril]

And this comes from someone who does not necessarily think social media is the devil bc I totally understand why people use it and how it makes connecting easier…… but I see older patients all the time and it’s so striking to me how they don’t have attention issues and how their reward system is wired so differently. My 52 year old boss rewards herself for an 8 hour work day by taking a run after work. Like immediately after work. She does have a phone, and she does use it, but it’s not her reward during downtime at all. She does not need a phone break in between things, because those things are what nourish her. And that’s just fascinating to me bc for my generation a peek at their phone is the ultimate reward

[stuckinapril]

LAST THING bc i feel like if this reaches more people they’ll be like ummm reading or talking to a friend arent downtime activities and like okay that’s so fair……. I think the whole point is finding a default downtime activity that feels right for *you* while also not taxing you mentally. Like this is not me saying go full blackout on your phone. Also it’s just true that doom scrolling is not as passive as people think it is (I literally do it too) and your brain is still burning out from taking in so much at once, so investigating if it’s the holy grain “brain off” activity really is valid

[creatingblackcharacters]

I can't remember where I read it last week, but the person discussed how when we think of chattel slavery in the US, we tend to think of massive plantations of cotton or tobacco, with one very rich white master or mistress with lots of land and lots of enslaved people. But we very rarely think of the many families that had just one or two slaves, in smaller homes.

Because it's not like you had to pay them, so once your family owned someone, they owned them and their descendants indefinitely. Could you pay and eventually free em- sure! You could also send them anywhere you want for any labor you want, could have an enslaved woman bred for more children, or maybe save up and buy new slaves and sell the old. Like cattle (thus, chattel slavery).

So it's interesting that many people go "oh well it's not like my family owned slaves!" Because like, one, how do you know that? Have you ever actually asked your grandmas about their grandmas? How many of your family members grew up with mammies? Have you ever asked? I wonder how many people have actually done the digging for the truth (or was it easier to just benefit). Because I've talked to my grandma, who picked cotton in the sea islands. She had to have been doing that for someone in the 1930s and 40s!

And two, it's easy to think that because your family (or someone else's) didn't own sprawling stolen land and generational blood money like a plantation owner, that it wasn't as important. But... It was. That was still someone's entire life. That was a person, whose labor benefitted and saved a family money that could be used in other ventures. How often do we think of them?

[dark-sappho]

listen...spray some of that nice perfume...use the good hand cream...wear that outfit even if you are just staying home...light those special candles you have been saving...enjoy those little things even if there is no occasion

[peachesofteal]

Well-

Emma knows she fucked up. 

“You’re learning. It’s okay to make mistakes,” the memory of Dana’s voice rings over the blood rushing in her ears, “but you have to deal with the consequences.” 

Consequences. 

She thought the consequences would be an incident report. Or a one on one with her manager, or the nurse educator. 

She didn’t think the consequences would be… this. 

She didn’t think the consequences would be her standing at the end of a hallway as Doctor Park stalks towards her, fury blazing so brightly in his eyes it’s almost blinding. 

She’s never even met this man. Never exchanged a single word with him or been in the same room up until now. All she knows of him is his reputation. The fear he seems to strike in the hearts of his coworkers, the panic he seems to induce whenever his name is mentioned. 

He’s notorious. 

He’s mean. 

And he’s headed right for her. 

“You’re Emma?” He snaps, white teeth gleaming. One look and she’s like a fish out of water, gasping for air. Desperate for one more gulp. 

The fact of the matter is, whatever he dishes out, she has to take it. She’s the one who messed up. She’s the one who didn’t double check, who didn’t register the NPO order until it was too late. 

Until it delayed a surgical case that he made room for in his schedule, and set up a domino effect of delays. 

She basically ruined his entire day, literally. 

“Y-yes.” The instinct to lift her fingers to her mouth and bite is so strong, she struggles to override it. Even though she knows she doesn’t have much left there anyway. She’s pretty much chewed everything off. 

“Want to explain what happened?” 

“I-I… made a mistake, I thought-” 

“Thought?” He scoffs. “You clearly did not think anything.” He takes one step forward to her two steps back. That’s how big the difference is. A mountain and a mole hill. “I know you’re new, but I would expect even a new grad would be able to read an order correctly.” It stings. She really is trying, so hard. It’s been a month, and she hasn’t found her footing yet. Dana keeps telling her it will get easier, but so far, it’s been an uphill battle. One she cries in her car over after she clocks out. 

“Doctor P-park, I’m sorry, I really am, I-” 

“Your sorry isn’t going to fix your major fuck up, princess.” He leans in close. So close. Too close. Close enough she can see the flecks of gold in his irises, a barely there hint of caramel in a sea of chestnut. 

For a minute, she forgets herself. Forgets her place. Her job. The walls that were seemingly closing in around her a minute ago. 

All she sees is those eyes. 

They narrow. 

Her tongue turns dry. 

“I know…” emotion overwhelms her, and she has to fight a tremble in her lip. “I know I screwed up.” She hates how her voice trembles. How she cowers as he studies her with a focus so sharp it could a scalpel. “I’m sorry, I really am.” 

“You’re not nearly sorry enough.” His gaze sweeps her, takes her in from head to toe, a muscle in his jaw ticking for a moment before it turns back to stone. “But you will be.” 

[peachesofteal]

He doesn't want Emma to work anymore.

It's been months since her assault but the uneasy feeling that settled low in his gut that day never left, and he finds himself obsessively thinking about where she is, what she's doing, if she's safe. He's bribed and bullied more than one charge nurse into giving her easy assignments, sedated patients, kids, your run of the mill soccer mom with a headache or the college kid experiencing an anxiety attack. Anything to keep her out of harms way.

But he won't be able to do it forever. He knows that.

He's desperate. And his desperation is a distraction.

Which is unacceptable.

So, he considers it to be for the greater good when he starts tampering with her birth control. It's what's best for everyone, really. Her, him, his patients.

It doesn't take long either. Only a month of two before she's standing in his living room, white piece of plastic clenched tight in trembling hands.

"What's wrong?" She hiccups and sniffles as he cups her cheek, tilts her face up to his. "What is it princess?"

"I- I-" her face crumples, and she buries her face in his chest. "I'm pregnant." Her body shakes with sobs, eyes red and puffy as she tries to work her way through words, a mix of "I don't know how this happened" and "what are we going to do" as he leads her over to the couch and pulls her onto his lap.

"Everything's going to be fine baby," he coos as he rubs his hand up and down her spine reassuringly. "It's going to be okay."

She keeps her face pressed to his neck, cold nose and tears against his skin, little fingers twisted up in his shirt like she's clinging to him for dear life.

If she had been in on it, he would have told her how good she was, how proud he was of her, what a good job she's done, making him a baby so fast. Making him a dad.

For now, he'll settle for resting his chin atop her head, a wide smile full of sharp teeth stretching across his face.

[yeyinde]

Okay but what are your thoughts on Park with a breeding kink? Not that he necessarily wants to have kids, but he just wants to knock Emma up so she can never leave him

he wants to knock her up so bad it makes him look stupid.

(and even if it's just play, or even if he's wearing a condom, he's still talking it up like he's three pumps away from having to order a nursery. it's just who he is as a person, yanno.)

and while he's definitely not above babytrapping—it crossed his mind exactly five minutes after being in the same room as her—he's also confident enough to know he doesn't really need to do that.

also, i hc him as being from a really big Italian-American family, and he knows that his mom and sisters and aunties are absolutely laying the groundwork for him. talking up how badly he wants kids, how badly they want grandbabies/nieces/nephews—just absolutely preying on poor Emma's carer/caring personality type, brutally toying with that thing inside of her that makes her feel fulfilled, feel needed, by helping people. by being needed. and so, when he thinks they're finally ready for kids, when she's ready for kids (after letting him rub off on her enough that she slurped up some of his ridiculous self-confidence and ego—enough to stand up for herself and be the self-assured, smart, caring person he knows is just kinda lost under all that fluster), all he has to do is slyly mention it after a conveniently dinner with his ma and he knows the yes is guaranteed.

[ohbo-ohno]

emma who's fucking exhausted and had a really weird day & park who's focusing on himself just a bit too much and so she tries - tries - to fake an orgasm because he's in that mood tonight that means he'll last a while and ohhhh boy does it backfire

if she thought she'd ever seen him angry before, she was wrong. he goes incandescent with rage - his cheeks flush with it, lips pulled back in a downright nasty snarl, and he grips her so hard she almost thinks he'll break her wrist

it's the first time he flips her onto her stomach, his hand burrowing into her curls and forcing her head to the side so she can see him out of just one eye, and he presses his knuckles into the small of her back to make her arch so severely her back cracks. his knees force hers further apart, so when she tries to squeeze her legs shut she can't, and he ducks down until his hot breath gusts over her cheekbones

you think i can't tell when you're fuckin' with me? think i don't know what you look like when you're creaming on my cock? i know every one of your cries, baby doll, and that one was a fucking fake. what's wrong, huh? your man not fucking you good enough? you need more from me, honey? oh i'll give you more, give you so much you can't take it, but you will anyway, won't you? gonna fucking bawl for me but you're gonna take it

[ceilidho]

Also I’m partial to Emma having an Invisalign retainer at night and she has a little bedtime routine after hooking up with park and that’s what makes him think ok that’s my wife

[ohbo-ohno]

she leaves the little box on his nightstand before she leaves his place because she thinks she's being coy and will have a good excuse to go over again. does she know he already has her ring size

[ceilidho]

just a weird guy that brushes her Invisalign retainer for her every morning, fucks her so good she sees stars and can’t stop talking about it to her friends that are like “girl…what….?”, splints her finger that time she breaks it and buttons her jeans for her because he won’t let her do anything to ruin his work, and won’t ever let her win at scrabble no matter how many times they play because he’s an asshole

[basementcoffee]

the first time emma stays (a pre-planned stay, that is) at park’s place for a rare weekend, she shows up like she did the first day on the job—overpacked and over-prepared.

her backpack is stuffed to the brim with anything she thinks she might need—extra toiletries, skincare, hair care, pajamas (as if he’ll let her keep them on), spare underwear (not that they’ll last), her e-reader, allergy meds, a tide pen—everything she can think of, just in case.

she practically skips up to his car where he’s waiting outside her building, grinning wide ear to ear. she asks him to pop the trunk, but he doesn’t move, like he didn’t hear her at all. he’s staring instead, fixed on the oversized lump of her backpack.

“the hell’s that?”

“my bag?”

“you moving in already?”

her eyebrows pop at that. “uh, n-no! i was, it’s just what i need,” and she can’t stop herself from nervously rattling off her list.

he stops her the second she gets to the fucking tide pen. puts up a hand, cuts the engine, and climbs out of the car to haul the heavy bag off her back. it’s a miracle she didn’t tip over under it.

“um, what’re you doing?”

“c’mon. back inside,” he says, gruff, settling a hand on the crown of her head to turn her gently back toward the building. “we’re gonna ditch two-thirds of this.”

“but—but i need—”

he ducks down close enough that all she can see is her own doe-eyed reflection in his black lenses, and his sharp, pearly-white smile just beneath them.

“anything you need, we’ll get a version of it for my place, or a better one. unless moving in sounds good after all.”

he gives her ass a light pat to hustle her up the steps, meanly teasing her the whole way to her unit about how much shit she packed for two days.

[noah-wyles]

the kindest and sweetest and most empathetic princess

[coldeveryseason]

autumn durald arkapaw won best cinematography for sinners ‼️‼️(she's an afro-filipina cinematographer with black creole ancestry and the first woman of color to be nominated for this award)

[evilwriter37]

Saying “this niche, properly tagged, warned, and rated piece of fiction could theoretically hurt someone” is not a good argument. This properly labeled cookie with the allergen information at the bottom that contains gluten could theoretically harm me very badly, but only if I consume it. Tags are like nutrition labels, and warnings are like allergy information. If you know you have an allergy to something, the logic is to stay away from it. It is the same with fiction. I’m not running through stores yelling at people to take all the products with gluten off the shelves just because it could hurt me. Instead I ignore it and go to the gluten free section and find cookies that are right for me. And if running through a grocery store yelling sounds ridiculous, that’s because it is. Stop doing the same with fiction.

[kokichis-dead-dove-club]

this is the best way i’ve seen this put!!

[lynati]

And just like with food, what might be harmful for one person to consume could be quite *beneficial* for others. One man’s trigger is another man’s catharsis.

[randomslasher]

AND if you lack the maturity/self control/awareness to stop yourself from eating things that could potentially harm you, you either 1) are too young to be making your own food choices and should be supervised by a parent/other adult who is supposed to be responsible for you (and the store clerk who put the food on the shelf is NOT) or 2) need to take accountability for your own actions, because if you deliberately consumed something you knew could hurt you as a fully autonomous adult, then you really have no one to blame but yourself.

[rabbitindisguise]

Me reading a fic clearly tagged with “mention of physical abuse of a child” thinking I could handle it and then not handling it well:

And that’s no one’s fault but my own 👍

[hadalstims]

So deeply moved by this puppy eating raspberries I had to make it a gif I felt compelled

[black-sasuke]

Protect black women. Fuck the state of Georgia.

[gerbildine]

Same Georgia that, last year, kept Adriana Smith’s brain dead body corpse alive because she was 9 weeks pregnant, against her families pleas by the way. They even forced the babies birth date earlier because she was decomposing! As of 2 weeks ago he was finally taken out of NICU but is still to this day, entirely reliant on oxygen, because he can’t breath on his own. And who pays for this? The government and hospital used a dead black womans body for an experiment after all, so of course they’d at LEAST foot the bill right? Just kidding it’s the family that wanted to put their daughter and grandson to rest of course! It’s only $600,000+ USD!

​

​And to those of you who think you’re safe because you’re ready and wanting to start a family so obviously youre not getting an abortion anyway! So what?? Think again!! Because you can now be charged as a “would be killer” for using pain killers during pregnancy because the same ingredient just HAPPENS to also be found in abortion pills!

They literally used these women as experimental test runs for what they can get away with and they’re getting away with it!!

Justice For Alexia Moore and Adriana Smith

[spaceshipsandpurpledrank]

[chronicgaywizard]

Lyonel had never seen Duncan this delirious in all the time he’d known the man- which in fairness, wasn’t long. It had started small, a secret shared over far too much ale in Baratheon’s loud ass tent. The two of them were drunk, pressed together and giggling about the tourney he’d won earlier that day.

“You know- always wondered- what it was like to be all dolled up, like… like the ladies in the stands. So pretty..” he mumbles, and the older man can’t help but snort into his cup.

“You wanna get dolled up?” Lyonel asked jokingly, his sly smile softening when he saw the earnest look on Dunk’s face- far too drunk to hide the way he was flushing at the idea. Of course the laughing storm had wanted to fuck him- 6’5, with a back like a fuckin mountain that he wanted to climb and never come down from.

But the idea of him bottoming? All prettied up and clean with soft silks on his body? Lyonel felt something twitch inside him, something maybe crazed and silly. But he snatched him from the table regardless, dragging him back to his personal pavilion and shoving him down. Letting his drunkenness fall away, left with a soft buzz as the older man stripped him down. At first Dunk fought, laughing and tugging poor Baratheon around while they giggled and argued.

A couple lovely scratches across his head and nape had the man melting though, relaxing fully for Lyonel to pull him into the small tub his servants had filled for him to use at the end of the night. Of course the sweet hedgeknight barely fit, but Lyonel had the good sense to wash himself first before shoving Dunk in.

Fuck, and Dunk was so cute while the older knight scrubbed the dirty away, practically purring as he closed his eyes and leaned heavily into his touches. His cock at a steady half hard on, so pent up from his touch but too satisfied to bother.

His relaxed demeanor vanished when Lyonel pushed him onto him cot- and pulled out his own panties and bra. The softest silk, a treasure he’d gotten on a conquest for his lord. Little beads and pearls tied to the corners, his own personal touch as the knight showed it to him.

And of course the man was excited, cock heavy now against his hip as he eyed the material. “Are you- gonna put that on?” He asked sweetly, shyly but unable to keep the eagerness out of his voice. Lyonel shook his head, loving the way the man’s blonde brows scrunched in confusion.

“You wanted to be prettied up, didn’t you?” The man sighs out, wishing he could’ve had his artisan paint the look on the knights face in that single moment. Face so red it matched the soft warmth of his hair, reaching all the way down his chest.

Which led to now. The laughing storm fucking into his hedgeknights sweet hole, watching with immense satisfaction as the man howled and moaned like he was drunk all over again. His lips smeared with berry paste he’d had, licking it off the man’s lips while he clung to the smaller man like a vice. His pecs bounced in the soft fabric every time Lyonel slammed into him, his heavy cock uselessly slapping against his wet tummy.

The pearls jingled ever so slightly with each thrust, and the older knight couldn’t help slapping the head of Dunk’s cock just to watch the huge and normally stoic man squeal. “So sweet, pretty girl. Cunt’s so tight on me, hm? You like being my pretty girl?” He asked, kissing the stubble on his jaw while the blonde whimpered. Tears dripping down his face, the salty taste on Lyonel’s tongue as his darted out to lick down the big man’s sensitive throat.

“Fuck- yessir- yessir- yes m’lord- feels- so good- love bein your girl,” Duncan cried into Lyonel’s hair, eyes so hazy it was like he was barely there anymore. Fuck, this knight was so cute- cuter than any wench or man he’d ever fucked before. He wanted to keep him- steal him away, hide him in his home and chain him to the bed so he could fuck him like this every knight. (Ha)

“Bet you do, my sweetheart. Look at you- little clit’s throbbing. You need to come, whore?” The knight asks with a sarcastic sweetness that Duncan is too cock drunk to pick up on. All he can muster is breathless nodding, his fat cock twitching and dripping the precum in Lyonel’s hand. Fuck, he could barely wrap his fingers around the base, it was massive. Maybe next time he’d ride the man, see if his ass could even take it.

“Look at you. Useless thing, good thing this pussy of yours is so tight,” he grunts, and Duncan keens pitifully at the compliment. Of course he was a bitch for praise- Lyonel guessed it the moment he saw the man hunched over in the back of his dinner tent.

“Come on baby- squirt for me, hm? Squirt all over my fat cock,” the Baratheon growls, sinking his teeth into the muscled fat of Duncan’s shoulder and relishing the sensation of Duncan’s heavy cum spurting in ropes all over his stomach and the set he was wearing. Soft silk drenched in cum so fertile Lyonel was sure it would make any woman pregnant if they so much as touched it.

Hm. That reminds him.

“Theeere we go, good girl. Come on- squeeze tight for me, baby- let me put a baby in you, huh? Fuck- fill you with a couple of my brats, you’re big enough to hold a few. My little breeding sow, hmm? You want that? Come on- squeeze my cock and give me an heir-“

Duncan comes for a second time in 45 seconds, and the sight of him quaking and gasping had Lyonel suddenly jerking to a stop inside the man, his own seed filling up the huge man’s loose hole. It drips out so prettily, like a dream against his hairy ass.

“Good girl.”

[chronicgaywizard]

Duncan had been a jerk all day. All fucking day, he’d been crabby and huffing at everything- that Egg took too long to eat, that you had to use the bathroom too many times- that his cloak kept getting caught on things. Irritable, sour puss of a man- and of course, your little master set you upon the knight to cure him.

“Surely he must be hiding something- a wound, or maybe he is just sick to his stomach. Please- please! Just cure whatever ails him, so we can actually make it to the next town!” The little prince begged you, his loyal maester. You let out a heaving sigh, glancing at the knight who was staring off into the trees- pouting about something, gods know what.

So you did. You snatched Duncan by his belt- his nape was too high up for you to snag, and dragged him off to a private place by the river.

“We do not need to do this-“ the knight tried to argue, only to yip when you pinched his hip.

“No arguing! Now strip- you wash yourself off, I’ll scrub our clothes until they’re clean,” you snap, rolling your eyes at the way he nearly blows his top. Face turning a cherry red, gripping the sides of his cloak like you might try to rip it off of him.

“Wh- no! I- I cannot undress in front of you- you’re a royal maester! What if someone saw??” Duncan yowled in embarrassment, letting out a shrill noise of fear when you yanked your cloak off without any of the same shame. “SER!” He cried, but you were already waist deep in the water and dunking your fabric.

“Shut yer trap, or I’m not sharing my soaps,” you snap, ignoring the way Duncan sharply snaps his head up. He loved your soaps- he regularly huffed your pack when you weren’t looking, sniffed your clothes and even stole a handkerchief that you’d carried the herbs in. All his life he’d smelled few things that were actually nice, so used to sweat and shit and blood and mud that your scent was almost a drug to the man.

You keep your back turned, smile spreading across your face as you start hearing the man derobe and wade his way into the water. When you finally look up, you openly coo at the way he’s turned away from you shyly- making him hiss out a sharp “shut up- give me my bit!”

“Alright, no need to get yourself in a wad,” you tease, exchanging his clothes for your soaps while he waded away. You took your time, scrubbing the mud and dirt off since you’d already washed- handing him back the clothes to hang up once you were done on the branches. The afternoon was hot, and you two relaxed in the water side by side. You peeked over, silently taking in his naked frame.

Fuck, he was a goddamn beast. Thick muscle covered with a healthy layer of fat- a gift from Egg’s excellent fishing skills that had kept you all fed many a time now. Blonde hair littering his freckled body, barely visible unless you were close enough. Not to mention his face, soft eyes shut in a serene expression as he decompressed.

You glanced down- just under the water, taking in the blurry visage of a cock that definitely half hard. Probably just from being naked with someone in a close vicinity, you imagined. Men like Dunk scarcely shared private moments like this, it was almost a privilege to see him like this at all. You were just glad he liked your soaps so much.

God, the thighs that bracketed his dick were the real prize though. thick, juicy and soft looking- you’d probably struggle to get your thighs around it. You sat up in the water, making the man open his eyes- glancing down at your scarred chest before looking away in fluster.

“What?” He grunts, and you just hum.

“Can I ride your thigh?”

He twitches- eyes snapping back to you like he’s waiting for you to finish your joke, but you just stare politely.

“What?”

“Your thigh. Let me ride it, won’t you? Wanna see how it feels,” you say again, just as blatant and forward as before while he visibly flounders. It’s cute, watching him short circuit under your gaze.

“Wh- but- you’re a man-?” Duncan manages to squeak out, and you laugh. “Men can fuck other men,” you say, and he blinks and looks down like he’s realizing something. Then he looks between your legs at the distinct lack of a dick that you had, like he’s noticing it for the first time. Then glancing at your chest- his face growing redder and redder by the second.

“You can say no, dunk. It was just an idea, no big deal-“ you say with an easiness that has the man gritting his teeth, yelping out a quick “I want to!” Before you could finish.

You raise your eyebrows, a silent prompt for him to make sure. His hands tremble as he stands up- ah, he’s definitely fully hard now. Your insides buzzed with a pleased sensation, happy at the reaction his body seemed to have at you.

“I want to- I’ve just- never fucked a man like you-“ he starts to stammer out, and you stand up as well- his eyes zeroing in on your little cunt between your legs. Ah- he was confused on how to do it.

“Well- go lay on the quilt I laid out, first off,” you say, and he promptly does so with a certain stiffness that is incredibly endearing. Plopping onto the small little beach, wet frame soaking the cloth you’d laid out. You slowly move to stand over him- kicking his legs open. The man looks half petrified now, a bundle of nerves as he drinks you in frantically.

You sit down next to him, to the knights disappointment. On your knees, hover over him as he sits up on his elbows. That disappointment quickly clears when your hand drags to his chest, sliding up his throat and grasping his chin gently so you could curve his face upwards towards you.

“Have you ever laid with a woman?” You ask softly- and he nods. “Good. Well, I’m similar to that. But I’ve got a cock, see? Just a little one, right here. And I like to grind it against stuff, like your thigh. I can move myself so you can grind against my leg too, or I can just show you how I do it first,” you murmur, thumb brushing over the man’s cheek as he trembles against you.

“Sevens be damned- I- um. Can I touch it? Your- cock?” He chokes out, huge fingers twitching towards you. You tsk, yanking his head back. “Maybe- but you gotta let me settle on top of you first. Okay?” You say with an utmost sweetness that makes Duncan lightheaded, nodding in your grip and trying not to openly whine when you finally climb on top of him.

Fuck. He’s so big, you’re no small lad by any means but fuck he is big. You can feel the way his hands immediately grab at your hips, practically enveloping them as you settle on top of the knights thigh. A satisfied hum leaves your lips when your cunt presses against his skin, Duncan letting out a strangled noise at the feeling. You watch his cock pulse, your knee a hairs width from his crotch- teasing him.

“See? How’s it feel, baby?” You coo, and Duncan has to work for a minute not to just whine back at you. “‘S good- yer- your little cock is so cute- can- can you press it up against mine?” He asks sweetly, and the idea makes your cunt twitch against him. You scoot closer, closer- slowly letting him pull his own heavy cock up and holding it until your cocks were snugly pressed together, cunt still slick against the top of his thigh now- nearly his hip.

“Fuck,” the knight breathes, and you can’t help but let out a soft whimper at the sight. Fuck- Duncan’s cock is so big- it makes your little nub look pitiful, so cute in comparison. “Fuck is right,” you murmur back- and grind once. You both can’t help the way you moan, hips jerking against each other at the brand new sensation.

“Ser- again- please-“ Duncan rasps out, and you grab onto his shoulders and start a slow rhythm that has the both of you gasping out your pleasures. For something so simple, it’s oddly very erotic- and you can’t help the way your cunt smears wetter and wetter against his hairy thigh.

“Fuck- knew you’d feel good, Dunk- so soft, so pretty for me,” you sigh out, watching the way the knight under you keens at the praise. Of course he was a sucker for praise, gods you could just look at him and guess.

“Y-yeah? Jus- just my leg?” He moans, the sound cracking as you jutted your little cock against his more harshly. “Course, so big under me. So thick n warm- fuck, and your cock is so good- so pretty, so nice and wet,” your voice is like electricity against his spine, his massive hands yanking you down into a hug while your hips quickened.

“Please- kiss? Kiss? Jus- I know we shouldn’ but- fuck- please?” He rasped in your ear, and your cunt fucking throbs at the sound of it. So needy, so different from the knight that you watched beat the snot out of a Targaryen prince months ago.

You can’t deny him, hands dragging up his body until you’re cupping his cheeks again- dragging the man in for a hot wet kiss. It’s gentle, sweet and he’s mewling and moaning against your lips like you have the touch of the divine. You can feel that rope in your stomach slowly tightening, hips jerking roughly against Duncan’s now as you desperately humped the man underneath you.

Your kiss turned hotter by the second, overwhelming the massive knight who tried to pull back to breath- only for you to snatch him by the hair and dragging him into another kiss. His eyes rolled back in his head, gripping and starting to drag your hips harder against his leg as if on instinct- your thigh jerking against his leaking cock so perfectly he could hear his ears ringing.

“Dunk-“ you gasped, the man let out a sweet moan in reply, as if he could sense your imminent orgasm. That noise was so sweet, so perfect that it was exactly what you needed, burying your face in his shoulder as you came all over his thigh. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders tightly, stomachs squishing together with his fat cock in between- the sensation making the knight jerk and cum from the sudden pressure.

Jesus, Duncan came a lot. Rope after rope of white spend soaking your stomachs as you mewled and grinded out your highs together, shaky whimpers and mewls mixing with the wet sound of your skin sliding against each other. By the time you both slowed to a stop, neither of you could barely move- drowsy satisfaction making you limp in the man’s arms.

“Seven hells,” the knight finally managed to wheeze, shivering at the soft kiss you pressed against his throat.

“You feel better?” You ask, smiling when Duncan pouted his lip out at you. “Shut up.”