You know you're in trouble when a handsome bearded attorney, fighting to save his son from being sent to prison for murder, makes you drool and fan yourself to keep from fainting just by the sight of him.🤤💫😳😁😍
It terrifies me that there’s so much raging passion in the lgbt+ community that insist on marginalizing asexuals and implying that asexuals don’t deserve to have safe spaces. There’s still so much acephobia so I just wanna know which blogs are genuinely supportive and a safe space for asexuals
just thinking about ransom sending sexy videos to charles while they’re apart😌 charles is mad bc he accidentally starts playing the video in public and everyone in a ten foot radius hears “daddy i’m so bored without you”
charles going off to the side to call him back and hearing ransom moaning as soon as he picks up so he grits his teeth and says “listen here, you little slut, you know god damn well you aren’t supposed to touch that pretty dick of yours without asking me first.”
and ransom is feeling like being a bitch as always so he just over-the-top moans again and says “i’m not touching my dick.” and charles is a bit thrown off by how turned on he is by that but he’s still got enough in him to snap at his boyfriend and say “you’re not to supposed to touch that slutty hole, either. but now that you’ve got yourself so worked up without me there, you’re gonna get that prostate massager of yours and leave it in you until i get home. no touching your cock. and if you come, i’m gonna spank you 10 times for every time that pretty dick shoots off without permission. you got it, darling?”
(and boy does ransom got it. not only that, he’s also going to get it)
Hello! 😘 Can we do something? Can we talk about the dinner party at Chelsea Handler’s house? How Chris made jokes and looked to Seb to make sure he found them funny?? How Seb had love-you-so-much-baby eyes while Chris was talking?? How Seb BASICALLY FREAKING WINKED when Chelsea suggested that Seb would want to “go down” on Chris?? Because I think we should talk about it.
Hello hi!! So sorry for the late reply, I’m terribly behind on my asks again 🙈 We can always talk about that, baby!! All of those thiiiiings 😭 Can you believe how unsubtle they were?? There were heart eyes (and sometimes eye fucking) all night long 😏🥰 You can’t tell me that didn’t mean anything. Look at these!!
And these??
gif credit bottom 3 gifs to @bowie28 (top ones mine)
Oh god helpless Seb kink?? Not even bondage, just... being still. All soft and pliable, letting Chris move him and control him in the sweetest ways? End me
I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS
Like, exactly that, about not even the bondage keeping him in place, just...his own choice, his own surrender, just being all small and soft and pliant and sweet, while Chris moves him and handles him and caresses him and makes him feel so good all over...
...just being wholly controlled and claimed by Chris, Seb’s body belonging to Chris, and Chris just needs him to be still and soft and malleable, to let Chris take over and cherish him and do everything for him, and Seb’s head is so pink and fuzzy, all cotton candy and rainbows...
(he isn’t really helpless, he’s got muscles, he’s strong, he could stop everything if he wanted to. he doesn’t want to. he chooses to lie there and let Chris fondle him and play with him and arrange him and make him feel all sorts of good sensations.)
“long ago,” oh my god, I’m a Fandom Old, that’s amazing, I’m just picturing Like Sugar as one of the Ancient Fandom Texts now... *dies laughing*
No, actually, that’s awesome and I love hearing that!! I love the energy of everyone jumping in and picking up the Evanstan love-torch and running with it, and if things I put into fandom early on helped at all with inspiring that, that’s fantastic! <33333
Chris doesn’t need to. Not when it’s this: not when they’re doing it like this. Sebastian loves being tied up by Chris, of course—and spanked by Chris, and teased by Chris, and being a brat for Chris, and everything else they do together. But right now that’s not what they’re doing, not what Chris needs from him. What they both need.
Chris sits beside him on the bed. Evening light—honeyed, joyous, gilded—pools across Sebastian’s bare skin and makes him warm, not overly so, just right; the light also paints Chris’s cheekbone, long eyelashes, exhaled breath.
Sebastian, naked and happy, says simply, “I’m here, Chris.”
“I know you are.” Chris touches him: a hand resting over Seb’s hip, not hard, not too near Seb’s cock, which stiffens regardless at the proximity. Chris remains dressed, in an old cozy red Henley and jeans; Chris had moments ago helped remove Sebastian’s clothing, though helped isn’t quite the word.
More like taking over. Gradually tenderly undressing him, bit by bit. Not permitting Sebastian to assist in any way: requiring him to merely stand still and accept the peeling-away of layers, letting Chris’s hands do what they wanted with his body.
He feels his lips part now, physical recollection of that feeling. Shimmering echoes. Drifting, sinking, growing soft and heavy and in need of Chris’s care: oh yes. Yes.
Chris touches him again, hand stroking along Sebastian’s left thigh. Sebastian’s thigh loves the sensation. “I know. It’s just, y’know…”
“You want to take care of me,” Seb whispers. “And I want that, too. I need that. I’m yours, Chris, please.”
It’s been too long. Three weeks, this time. Chris in D.C., meeting with politicians and having conversations. Seb in New York, preparing for a play. They come home to each other in every moment they can.
“Missed you, sweet kid.” Chris has called him that, half-teasing and half not, for years. It’d begun in an interview, when Chris had referred to him that way; it’d become a shared joke, since Sebastian’s not that much younger and absolutely not innocent. Sometimes, like now, though…
That’s the other half. When Chris’s voice gets all low and wicked and rumbly, deep and possessive, ready to take care of Sebastian. And Seb’s whole body lights up and melts and goes shivery and submissive in response.
Instinctive. Wonderful. Every time.
He murmurs, “Please, Chris,” and lets himself go even softer, languid and acquiescent against the bed. The sheets feel cool and silky, but they warm with body heat; Chris is warm as well beside him, firm and large.
“My Sebastian,” Chris says, fond and authoritative, and takes hold of Sebastian’s leg and repositions it: moving, tugging wider, arranging. “You’ve been needing this, haven’t you? Needin’ it so bad, someone to make you go all soft and small and sweet, someone to take charge of you, make you feel all nice…” He’s got both hands on Sebastian’s inner thighs, soothing, rubbing.
Sebastian sighs the, “Yes,” and closes his eyes for a moment, subsumed by pleasure. His body hums, settles; his head’s already growing hazy, pink and fluffy and full of sugar. “All yours, Chris…”
“I know you are.” Chris pets his legs some more, then reaches up for Seb’s arms. They feel hazy too, uncoordinated, unresisting as Chris gently sets his hands on the pillow by his head. “And you’re gonna be so good for me, aren’t you? You won’t move, ’cause you can’t move, baby, all you can do’s just lie there where I put you, just feel everything I do to you…”
Sebastian moans, sound drawn out of his soul at Chris’s words, Chris’s voice.
(I’d put some of this in another reply but I’ll toss it in here to keep it together)
Sebastian exhales, sound drawn out of his soul at Chris’s words, Chris’s voice.
“Yeah.” Chris’s fingers find Sebastian’s right nipple, and begin a leisurely rolling, tugging, pulling. “So nice for me. So helpless, the way you want to be. Your body, your pretty little cock, that hungry hole of yours, where you like it so much when you’re stuffed full…all mine. All of you. Nothin’ you can do about it.”
Sebastian moans again, quivering helplessly. His cock’s standing upright, already leaking, dribbling need all over himself; the ache of not being touched spreads out and glows and makes his bones into gold too, like the light. He’s liquid, limpid, yearning; he can’t focus on anything except the growing radiance.
He’s Chris’s. Yes. He can’t move, he won’t move…he wants this, he wants to lie here helpless and small and easy for Chris to handle, to fondle, to use…he needs to be Chris’s, whatever Chris wants to do with him, to make him feel…that’s all he needs.
He could protest. He could move. He could sit up. He’s got muscles—not the same as Chris’s, but not bad, these days—and nothing’s holding him in place. No restraints, no bonds, no ties.
He doesn’t want to move. He’s choosing this. His choice: to let Chris help him, to let Chris take care of him, to let Chris take him away to that blurry luminous headspace where everything’s shining and indistinct, nothing sharp or clear or hurting, only made of boundless bliss.
Chris moves, instead. A sweep of clothing. A rustle. And then a presence beside him: naked now, so glorious, so strong and solid.
Sebastian blinks dreamily. Gazes at Chris, his Chris, who’s stretched out beside him in bed. Chris is so beautiful. Ocean-wave eyes, dark ruffled hair, the masculine scruff of beard—growing out again, and Sebastian loves the way it feels against his skin. Small shy freckles, a hint of chest hair—Chris hasn’t needed to wax lately for any role—and glorious power, contained in a superhero physique. All of that is just the physical; Chris’s heart, that big rainbow-laced generous heart, is practically visible too. In that body, in those eyes.
Chris writes his memories and his loves on himself in tattoo-ink. Chris cares so deeply; Chris wants to make the world better, pours so much of himself into his characters and his passions, and always, always, tries to give Sebastian everything he needs.
It’s important that Chris know that, suddenly. Sebastian, through fuzzy cotton-candy clouds, mumbles, “Chris. So good.”
Chris laughs. “I can tell you’re feeling good, baby, just looking at you. Watching you get all sweet for me.”
“Not me…you. You’re good. Perfect. Always. With me.”
Chris laughs a little more, the sort of laugh that’s nearly a sigh; his eyes grow brighter, affection in warm summery color. “You’re pretty far under already, aren’t you, sweetheart? You sound like it.”
“Yes,” Sebastian agrees. “But you are. Perfect. My Chris.”
“Always yours, Seb. You know I am.” Chris lifts Sebastian’s arm, drops a kiss on his wrist, sets it back into place. “You just stay right here, right here in your head too, where it’s all soft and good for you, and you don’t have to do a thing, you don’t need to worry about anything, you just lie here and let me make you feel nice, okay?”
“Mmmm,” Sebastian manages, thoughts sliding into white blank pleasure at Chris’s voice, at the heated velvet sensation of words and Chris’s body, so close and so commanding.
“My good boy,” Chris says, and Sebastian sinks into the praise, into the submission, as deep clear waters close over his thoughts and wash them away. Chris thinks he’s good. Chris wants him. Chris wants to keep him, wants to love him, wants to make him feel good. Yes.
Chris strokes his thighs again, then puts a hand between his legs: not on his cock, which bobs and drips against his stomach, uncontrolled. But lower: fondling his balls, those vulnerable weights, then rubbing behind them, over tender intimate skin. Sebastian cannot move, floating, a paradox of weight and lightness. His body’s somnolent but tingling, alive like stone bathed in sun.
Chris rubs at his hole, gently, gently. There’s no lube yet, just the rough press of a finger over the opening, a dry tantalizing promise. Sebastian’s body flutters, aches, ripples with certainty. This is right. This. Belonging to Chris. Whatever Chris chooses to do with him.
Chris will never hurt him. Knowing as much, he surrenders himself in utter tranquil perfect bliss.
Chris rubs at his hole a little more. Soft distant bits of fire—sparks of want, not hurt—flicker, muffled under all-consuming rapture. Sebastian mumbles something incoherent.
Chris is smiling—it’s in his voice—when he says, “You love this, don’t you, baby? The way you’re all mine, your body’s all mine, just giving it all up, all that control…you could stop me, you could do anything, Seb, if you wanted to, but you don’t, do you? You just want to lie right here and be used, let me use you…”
Sebastian’s vision’s blurry, drowned in rainbows. His mouth’s open, slack. His cock’s dripping more—he feels wetness on his stomach, drop after drop—and he has no control over that either. He doesn’t want to. He wants…what Chris wants. It’s easy like this, he’s easy like this, no anxieties or worries or lonely depression or hollowness about not being good enough in the pit of his stomach. None of that, not here: he’s Chris’s, that’s all he has to be, and that’s right.
He’s where he should be. So’s Chris. They both know that.
“So easy,” Chris murmurs, a loving dominant reflection of Seb’s jumbled kaleidoscope thoughts. “So easy for me, aren’t you? Me touchin’ you, me talkin’ to you, and you just open right up for me. The way you need. Because you do need it, don’t you, sweetheart? You need somebody takin’ care of you. Makin’ you feel all nice inside.”
Sebastian makes a sound that must approximate yes well enough; Chris sounds pleased. “I know, sweet boy. I know you like feeling this way, know you need it. So needy, aren’t you? Begging for someone to play with you, with this nice little hole—” His fingers rub there again, underscoring the point; Sebastian sobs and squirms, purely instinctive now. “—or with that desperate pretty cock of yours, baby, where you’re all wet and leaking because you just can’t keep it in, can you? You need it so bad you’d come all over yourself, just like this, if I let you, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?”
Because it is @the1918‘s birthday, would you like some more?
#
Sebastian’s mouth makes a sound, low and inarticulate. He’s barely comprehending the words, but he knows them: knows Chris loves him this way, eager and messy and malleable, twitching randomly with oscillations of pleasure, utterly lost to submission, nothing held back or concealed, everything open and unguarded and on display, laid bare.
He can see Chris, but his gaze is unsteady; Chris is ringed in light, a halo. An angel, a master, a dominant, terms that Sebastian’s brain swirls through hazily; if Chris is an angel he’s the wicked commanding sinful kind, the kind that knows about desire, Seb’s brain decides, and he giggles aloud, tipsy, dizzy with submission.
“Something funny?” Chris takes the hand away from stroking his hole to tug at—not the thick neglected heated weight that’s his cock, but the heaviness of his balls below that. The tug’s not hard, or maybe it is, but it feels good; Sebastian giggles again, sort of a mumble, head spinning and mouth making noises and body twitching more, throbbing, pulsing all over. His stomach’s getting more wet.
“Oh, Seb.” Chris sounds even gentler now, and pets his hip, just once. “You’re so far gone, aren’t you? So deep…god, it’s been too long, hasn’t it? Guess I’ve been neglecting you, not payin’ you enough attention, when I know you need it, and I guess I haven’t even done much with you over the phone, lately…so sweet, so hungry for me, all the time, aren’t you? Needing a good reminder that you’re all mine.” His hand wraps around Seb’s cock, a sudden shock of grip. Sebastian had almost—almost—forgotten that that was his cock, just another glowing line of good feelings centered there, but Chris’s hand’s abrupt and powerful and all at once Sebastian’s moaning, sobbing, shaking under rapid rough claiming strokes.
“This,” Chris says, Chris reminds him, “this is mine. This pretty cock gets all wet for me, it comes for me, it does what I say. You don’t get to choose. You don’t have to choose. You don’t have to think at all, sweetheart, because I’m taking care of you now. You just let it all happen, let it all go, just think about me and me doing things to make you feel good, baby, understand?”
Sebastian whimpers. Whines. Makes some other mindless wordless noises he’s not even embarrassed about. Those noises are Chris’s, the way he is. He’s so happy, so well cared for, so shimmery and luminous all over.
Chris strokes his cock more, faster and faster. Lots of rubbing. Rub, rub, rub. Slicker now: Sebastian’s own slickness, flooding out, easing the motion. His mouth’s hanging open, loose the way he’s loose all over, for Chris. The strokes keep going and going and the feeling doesn’t stop, only swells, as if he’s opening up and spilling outward, edges of self collapsing and dissolving, a strange incandescent gathering-up and billowing-out—
“Go ahead,” Chris says. “I want you to, baby. Come all over yourself. Come for me.”
Here is my link to my AO3 but there are some things I post here that I don’t on AO3 so…Masterlist. To make it easier I am going to have the most recent posts first. Also, some of these I don’t have titles for so I just made it the description/what it’s about. I will add pairings as I write them! ILY.
Date last updated: 6/15/2020
Mr. Barber
one look and i couldn’t breathe
Headcannons
3-Day Weekend Daddy Steve
Captain Syverson
Henry Cavill
Randoms
Who tops who bottoms
no need to ask me (Andy Barber x Lance Tucker)
Daddy!Steve and Baby!Bucky
bucky sticks panties in Daddy’s bag
Daddy’s reaction to Bucky dressed to the nines
possessive Daddy phone call
Daddy takes a work call
Daddy Steve takes a work call
kiss it when he eat it
Come cuddle
You’re so Pretty
it’s this sunrise
Mr. Walker
Office Fluff
i mean no disrespect
this feelin’ is reckless
everybody wants a taste
Spankings
Bucky’s Nips
Bucky Wearing a Choker and Bell
DC Daddy Steve and Sweet Boy Buck
Felching
Daddy Steve’s Tongue Piercing
Spring Break
Cockwarming
Soft Fluffy Tattoo Feels
Filthy Rimming
Daddy!Steve NSFW ABCs (most recent post, other posts are linked)
Lap Full of Slut
Morning Sex
Coming Untouched
Shrinkyclinks
Tummy bulge
He couldn’t…
Steve tops, lil bit of daddy kink
life is but a dream
Steve Top
Morning Sex
Daddy!Bucky and Twink!Steve
First time on his knees
How do you do this
Do you deserve it
A lil’ bit of curve
i’m seein’ the pain, seein’ the pleasure
kianamaiart
romaincrisis
janainaart
turnnoffyourmind
vaporwave
baratheonpilled
snowghoul
