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obsessive-evie · 5 months

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you’re pretty is all

pairing: Kate Martin + fem!oc

word count: 3.2k

warnings: smut, explicit language

“I-, I can’t, please, I can’t, you can’t keep doing this to me,” Kate pants into my mouth, a blushing smile on her face, clearly embarrassed at the needy tone her own voice took on.

You see, we have recently discovered that Kate cannot handle praise. At. All.

It happened one day on accident, I was just going to one of her games like normal, a pretty rough game against South Carolina I must admit, but Iowa pulled through, Kate being the highest scorer instead of Caitlin for once. She had jogged over to where I was leaning against the walls of the stadium bleachers, a wide smile on her face the moment she noticed where I was. She had barely finished talking to the media, still dodging reporters with cameras on her way over to me.

I immediately wrapped my arms around her head of course, standing on my tiptoes to kiss the side of her head. Her head was buried in my neck, her heavy breathing and warm body pressed against my own. “You did so good baby, oh my god,” I said in her ear before pulling away, my hands still on her neck. Her face now held a different kind of look in her eye. What once was pink from the exertion of the game was now speckled darker with with red, her eyes holding a look of almost uncertainty in them. She opens her mouth like she’s going to speak, but nothing comes out.

She looks bashful, almost shocked, as she keeps trying to form words through her smile. A few laughs escape instead, so she breaks eye contact, and pulls me back into her arms, hiding her face in my neck.

I don’t bring it up until later, taking it as she was just overwhelmed in the post-win high.

But the more I thought about it, the more my brain needed to know why she looked so, flustered? Now I had had my theories about her liking praise, the few times I was more in control featuring a heavy adoration note, and less than a possessive or rough route, but I wanted to test my theory.

“I’m serious i’m so proud of you Kate, you played so well,” I say in the passenger seat of her car as she drives us back to her apartment, her hand in mine on the center console. We’re stopped at a long red, the large Iowa intersections taking far too long in any other circumstance, but i’m thankful for it now as I get to watch her head duck down in an attempt at hiding while a large smile plays on her face, one she’s clearly trying to hide. Her face flushes red again, and that’s when I knew I was on the right track.

Throughout the course of the next few days, I continued to shower my girlfriend with excess praise and compliments, relishing in every blush, smile, giggle, and hidden face. Everything from playing with her freshly washed hair while we talked about the game later that night, making her shift herself from laying on my chest to her kissing my neck to hide her red face when I started to delve into her high score. Not just that, but when she aced a math test a few days later, I went above and beyond in telling her how proud I was (she ended up telling me to shut up with a red face and half hidden smile, her large hand coming to cover half of her face).

The first time I called her pretty girl, I knew damn well what I was doing.

I was sitting on the bathroom counter as she curled her hair, just admiring her beauty and features. She was focused on not burning herself, but when she put the iron down and caught my eyes, she smiled, a puzzled look on her face. “What?” she asked while moving closer, her hands coming to my thighs, rubbing up and down my leggings as she laughed slightly. I shook my head, not wanting to admit anything yet, so naturally she moved closer, leaning into my personal space.

I shake my head while laughing, moving myself to kiss her lips with smiles on our faces. I break the gentle kiss to say, “My pretty girl.” Her reaction is immediate, her face flushes pink high on her cheekbones and ears, she tries to hold back an even larger smile which causes her nose to twitch slightly too. My hands cradle her jaw on each side before she plants her forehead on my chest, me sitting on the counter being one of the few positions she can do so.

I can feel her breathing slightly pick up, making me laugh again. She shakes her head in my chest with a small groan before picking it up, and moving back over to where she was standing, holding back a smile and a red face.

So it does work.

My plan was to see how long it would take for her to crack, or melt, either one worked for me. So when the day came where I was fed up with her being so stupidly strong willed, I decided to bombard her all day long.

I kissed every inch of her face when we woke up that morning, telling her how beautiful she is, even throwing in a my beautiful girl before getting out of bed to shower (she asked to join, but I don’t think I could handle seeing her naked and not get on my knees, which would ruin my whole plan).

I even hyped her up a little more the usual when we got ready to go out to dinner. When I would usually just call her my hot girlfriend and poke her biceps or abs, I made show of saying how good she looked, even throwing in a wolf whistle for good measure to get that pretty blush I adored. Now don’t get me wrong, she did look damn good, but it was a little exaggerated when she walked out in a gray tank and jeans, her hair up in a high ponytail with a dusting of makeup on her face highlighting her natural features.

I got the blush that I wanted, as well as an eye roll as she deflected by kissing me on the lips.

It was only after we had a few drinks at a nice italian restaurant that she even acknowledged my praises.

I had called her “so fuckin pretty” after taking some photos of her at our secluded table, to which she responded, “I can’t with you, you know that?” with an eye roll. “I just love my incredibly hot girlfriend, and I wanna tell her, what’s so wrong with that?” I replied. She just shook her head and said, “You’re so down bad for me.” Of course I nodded my head enthusiastically and took more photos.

By the time we were home on the couch, still in our going out clothes and makeup, I was determined to make her crack.

I was seated straddling her lap, her hands unbashfully on my ass and hips (a personal fav of hers as she put it), while mine were moving between her jaw and neck, not deciding which one I liked better. My tongue was in her mouth when my hand just barely squeezed her neck, not choking or anything, but enough for her to moan out in surprise. She pulled away for air, her face flushed and lips bitten a dark shade of pink. God she really was pretty.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I whispered before going back in for more kisses. Her hands now gripped my hips harder, pulling me down onto her thigh, causing pleasure to shoot up into me. She did it again at the same time she pushed her thigh up, the thought of the strong muscle beneath me only adding to my pleasure. This time i’m the one that pulls away to say, “God you’re so good to me, you’re so fucking pretty baby,” while smiling. Hopefully this is the fatal blow that will make her crack.

I’m right.

“I-, I can’t, please, I can’t, you can’t keep doing this to me,” Kate pants into my mouth, a blushing smile on her face, clearly embarrassed at the needy tone her own voice took on. Her bright blue-green eyes plead up at me, coercing my body and soul into her. I stay quiet, hoping to urge her to fill the silence. “I mean it, you have no idea what that does to me I-,” she pauses, taking a deep breath, breaking our eye contact, “I can’t, just-“ I cut her desperate words off with a kiss, needing to feel those pretty lips on mine again. She kisses me back with fervor, gripping my ass and hip impossibly tighter, her hands almost painfully doing so.

Our lips continue to move with a melting passion, each of us letting out occasional moans as we move closer and closer to the fires burning bright in our cores. I break the kiss and a string of warm spit still keeps us connected. I move to kiss her cheek gently, the restraint and stark contrast from the aggressive kissing almost making me shake. Kissing softly down her jawline, stopping just above her ear to whisper, “My pretty baby,” the hand that was resting on her neck squeezing slightly.

Now being possessive wasn’t particularly new for us, Kate liked to show me off and I the same, but we were never directly possessive. So i I guess it caught her off guard when I accentuated the my part.

“Oh my god,” she half says half whines as I smirk, continuing my pursuit of kisses down her neck and onto her exposed collarbones. I manage to get her tank top off, so of course she had to even the score and get me out of my shirt (it was bunched up around my bra anyways). Kissing down her chest, removing the clasp of her bra one handed, pulling her ripped jeans down, those were all easy. But resisting the urge to abandon my teasing and fuck her senseless once I got her in just her underwear was not easy. At all.

I too was stripped down to my shorts and lacy black bralette, my mouth still slowly trailing down her body, gently kissing and biting. My hands explored her hips and thighs the lower I got, the sucking on her chest and nipples making the strong muscles twitch slightly. Every time I pulled away from her warm body to breathe or look at her, I let out a string of praises or minor possessiveness.

The lower I got, the more she squirmed at my words. What would’ve probably only made her blush before this is now making her pant. For example, “God you’re so good baby,” made her let out a particularly desperate moan, her hand coming to the back of my head as I sucked on her nipple.

Something I did know about Kate however, is that she got particularly embarrassed when I went down on her. She had a habit of covering her face with her hands, a pillow, or biting her lips to hold back the moans that only urged me on. She also had a habit of closing her eyes or looking away, especially the more orgasms I gave her, because she had a tendency to cry.

The first time I made her cry in bed, I panicked, thinking something was wrong. It was after a particularly hard loss, a tiring and brutal game against LSU, and I decided she could use an orgasm or two after that. By the time I was getting her closer and closer to her third, I thought that I was crazy when I caught a glimpse of shiny eyes before she covered them with the crook of her elbow again. Amping her up for her fourth however, was when I was for sure that her moans were turning into almost sobs. My heart dropped, thinking I had taken it too far. Of course I immediately removed my head from her pussy and cradled her face with my hands, trying to remove her own from her face.

All I had received in return was a rushed out explanation, “No, no, please don’t stop I’m fine I swear just-“ she had said before I cut her off. “Baby you’re crying you’re clearly not fine what’s wrong was it too much? I’m sorry love I-“ this time it was my turn to be cut off.

“No, no this just happens ok I’m fine just I swear to god if you don’t make me cum these tears will be for real,” she choked out, the waterworks of frustration starting back up again. I had kissed her salty lips quickly before giving her a fourth orgasm, watching as the tears flowed freely once I had held her hand down on her hip. Back then I had watched in awe as her pretty face was streaked with tear tracks, trying to test my luck with a fifth orgasm right after her fourth. Unfortunately her sobs became mumbled words of, “No I can’t i c-can’t too much I can’t please I can’t,” while pushing my head away from her dripping cunt.

Now I’m determined to see those rare tears again.

Hopefully my teasing combined with her newfound appreciation for praise would be enough.

I stand corrected.

After sucking on her thighs for too long, Kate had relented and quietly asked me to touch her. I had removed her soaked panties slowly, kissing every inch of her legs they went down. This is when she would typically look away or look for a pillow to hide in, but thanks to our position on our barren couch, she had no choice but to look at me as I made contact with her wet pussy.

I started out slow by circling her clit and pushing a single finger into her, crooking it slightly. “Keep your eyes on me pretty girl,” I said, making her move her hand from shaking by her thigh to holding the back of my head, keeping my tongue on her as she whines.

Throwing out other praises and you’re so pretty darling, or, you look so fucking good like this, so wet baby made Kate only moan and whine louder, her hand coming to cover her mouth. I get minutes into pumping two fingers into her before I notice she’s gone muffled, so I take her hand away from her mouth by her wrist, and hold it onto the couch with my thumb on her pulse point gently.

“C’mon baby let me hear you, I know you can do it,” I say, watching as she tries to keep quiet by biting her lip, tears beginning to form in her eyes. I decide to push her further.

At the same time I curl my fingers up into her g spot, I suck on her clit hard, all while simultaneously pushing on her lower stomach. This makes her let out a loud and whiny moan, stirring things inside me when she tightens her hold on my hair. The tears begin to flow now, almost making me let up on my assault. Almost.

I keep alternating between sucking on her clit and pushing on her stomach, my fingers keeping pace inside her. “Oh my god,” she panted out, the telltale signs of my girlfriend’s incoming orgasm starting as her breathing picks up. I keep going, never relenting, even when her strong hips try to lift up off the couch, forcing me to wrap my arms around her hips and thighs, pinning her in place.

I take a small breather to say, “you’re close baby, I know it, why don’t you cum for me yeah? god you’re doing so well love.” She throws her head back and whines, a high and needy thing that makes me speed up my hand, even though my wrist is starting to cramp.

Her breathing deepens, sobs worsen, thick hot tears rolling down her cheeks as her strong thighs clamp around my head. Pushing on her lower stomach always seems to do the trick, something about external g spot stimulation? Either way, she’s coming on my tongue with my name in her mouth, combined with many other things I can’t hear because of her thighs over my ears.

Her whole body shakes and twitches, her hips lifting in an arch, her hand holds my hair almost painfully tight to her cunt, not like I was leaving anyways. Her heavy breathing doesn’t slow as I push through what I think is the longest orgasm I’ve ever given her. And trust me, giving head was considered one of my special skills. Wonder if I could put THAT on a job resume?

I slow my fingers inside of her, as well as the lapping of my tongue when I think i’ve stretched that out as long as I could. Her eyes are closed now, breathing slowing, her thighs loosened around my head, allowing me to pull away for air. I slowly remove my fingers from her cunt, causing her hips to twitch again, making me laugh. I suck her excess slick off my fingers, relishing in the way she tastes. Maybe I’m smug, but the fucked out look on my girlfriend’s face as she opens her eyes is totally deserving of a mini victory lap.

I stand up from my position on the floor, my knees cracking on the way up from the way I was kneeling. I kiss my way up her hips and stomach gently, small pecks up her warm body, making my way to her face. The tear stained face I kiss every inch of, something I had started after the first time she cried, a mix of guilt and tenderness I felt for her compelling me to do so. When I finally reach her lips, I swipe my thumb under her eyes, cleaning off any more salty tears or cum. Unfortunately for Kate, going from eating pussy to kissing cheeks means mixing of bodily fluids.

A self confident smile on my face, I kiss my girl on the lips finally, her once limp mouth curving up into a small smile. I pull away, taking in her disbelieving expression. “Where the hell did that come from?” she asks, shaking her head slightly against my lips. “You’re pretty,” is all I say in response.

#kate martin #wcbb #wcbb fic #kate martin is my wife #(real)#kate martin x fem!oc #kate martin vs the bottom agenda #wrote this in my notes app pls let me know of typos #kate martin my beloved #kate martin is pretty and i went crazy #smut #smut and fluff #praise to the max #i genuinely cannot tell if her eyes are blue or green #FIRST REAL POST WOO!#ALSO THERE IS TEARS

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non-stop-imagines · 5 months

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Ok I'm not the nonnie that just asked that question, but I can 100% imagine Lance and Oscar being in a poly. And it's perfect cause they never cross paths it seems like. So a SMAU where the reader (Marsai Martin) comes to the paddock for a visit and everyone is just like wtf?! How did yall pull her?!

You have no idea how crazyy brain went when I got this. And then I almost immediately began working on it...and then I was unable to edit ask responses on my phone for almost a month and a half 😔. Also I absolutely did not mean to do this but my brain read it "Lando and Oscar" and I completely missed that it said "Lance and Oscar" and now I feel terrible but I hope you like it still! 😬😚

(A/n: Also I know I said Charles was next, but I was so excited I could finally edit this post I had to go and finish it. I have been working on my Charles fic though I promise 💖)

~~~~~♥~~~~~~

user_yn

Liked by landonorris and 492,807 others

user_yn Thank you Japan for giving my loves a double podium (and the epic celebration after) 🧡🇯🇵

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user1 They are so wholesome it gave me clear skin

landonorris So happy our pretty girl got to see us (almost) win 😚

>user_yn And I'm very proud of your (almost) win ☺️

>oscarpiastri It was your beauty radiating from the garage that helped us stay in the top 3

liked by user_yn

>mclaren We agree 👍

user2 Exhibit B of how Yn is their good luck charm

>user3 Yes, but elaborate 🧐

>user2 The last race she was at was Silverstone, when they basically told the rest of the grid "Sike, here's our real car" and now double podium

>landonorris We've been trying to tell @/user_yn, right @/oscarpiastri?

>oscarpiastri If she listened to us, forgot about acting and just came to all the races, we'd be World Champions by now🤷‍♂️

>user_yn Os, baby, don't let Lando drag you down with him

landonorris

Liked by Oscar Piastri

landonorris Had to get that double podium for our lovely lady 😍 🏆(Also Note to Self: Never leave your phone alone with @/user_yn)

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user_yn The real note to self should be "post better pictures of Yn instead of whatever photo you have of her sleeping"

>landonorris But you're so pretty when you sleep 👉🏻👈🏻😚

>user_yn As sweet as that is, don't 🫵🏿

user8 Still accepting theories of how those two even met Yn

>user9 The configuration of the stars the night they met was the same as when the upgrades for Silverstone were finished. That was the most luck those two have every experienced int their lives and they will probably not have such luck again until it is time for their own respective grand prix race wins

>user8 Yes.

oscarpiastri Baby 🧡

>landonorris Couldn't be more proud of you 🧡

>user_yn And I'm the proudest of both of you 🧡

>user4 These 3 deserve each other and I mean that in the purest way possible

>mclaren we just want to join on the orange hearts (even though we love them too)🧡

user5 We stan Bert, Ernie, and their impossibly hot girlfriend

>landonorris Please tell me I'm Ernie 🤞🏻

>user5 Man do I have a treat for you

oscarpiastri

Liked by logansargeant and 193,703 others

oscarpiastri Had to place 2 and 3 because she's our #1 😊

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user6 Logan's here, we can finally start the festivities

logansargeant @/user_yn is the really Japanese gp winner

>user_yn No don't talk to me you ignored me most of the weekend 😔

>logansargeant I JUST COULDN'T SEE YOU YOU'RE SHORT

>user_yn All I'm hearing are excuses 🙄

user_yn Such a cutie 🥰 So so proud of my boyfriends 💖

>user_yn (I swear if you don't smile with your teeth more often I'm telling your mom.)

>oscarpiastri Yes ma'am (Love you, don't tell my mom ♥️)

>landonorris THANK YOU I've been trying to tell him he has a pretty smile

user7 Yn, the fashion icon ✨

>user_yn It's the hat 🤠

One last thought: Hopefully this is the start of a spark of inspiration because I would love for the ideas I have for all of these requests to LEAVE MY HEAD AND WRITE THEMSELVES OUT ON THESE POSTS!! Anyway, I hope you all liked this and you're all doing well. 😊

#yeea nah #formula 1 #black reader #f1 imagines #formula 1 x black!reader #f1 x black!reader #request #lando norris x black!reader #oscar piastri x black!reader #landoscar #f1 poly #im a mess rn #😚

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spiral-man · 2 months

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So this might sound insane, but I’m sure we’ve all seen those amazing fan art’s of Jon/Martin/Norris/Chester as like the computers sitting next to each other and anyways, I saw someone draw Chester/Jon as the right computer and Norris/Martin as the left and i immediately was just like “no, wrong other way around” and so now I’m just wondering….

#tma #the magnus archives #the magnus protocol #tmagp #tmagp shitpost #tmagp fanart #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #norris #chester #in the computer #the magnus archive fanart #tma fanart #the magnus pod

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littlecrittereli · 2 months

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Hi, first of all I’d like to say I love your art and writing, I read Reprogrammed in one sitting and it was marvelous, got me thinking of AUs. Everything my angsty little heart could desire. Wild Kratts has been a staple of my childhood so it’s amazing to see talented creators appreciating the show.

Secondly, for your Guardianship AU, that comic you made about Chris calling Martin cringe immediately thrusted a scenario into to brain that I could totally see happening as an alternative plot in “Let the Rhino Roll”

Zach: that’s a child

Chris, being held like a sopping wet kitten by a Zach Bot: and that’s and ugly, pickley, bitch!

Lastly, about the Reprogrammed AU, what’d you think would happen if the bros swapped places (Martin got captured why Chris remained safe). I love making AUs for AUs by tweaking certain things so I’d love to hear your thoughts. Personally I think it’d be a mixed bag as Chris would be both guilty and crippled with anxiety over his lost brother, leading into desperation and lashing out. Meanwhile I think Martin would loath the situation, but also feel weirdly content since he’s the one that got captured. That meant his little brother and friends were all safe and weren’t the ones going through the suffering. He’d probably also have heaping loads of guilt if he hurt Chris cause that’s his little brother who he’d sworn to protect and he just hurt him. So much angst potential

UR SO NICE THANK YOU!!!!!!!

(also that's such a silly prompt for Guardianship AU I will maybe draw that sometime if I get the chance <3 )

oooo.... a Martin version of Reprogrammed.... that would be really interesting! I agree that Martin would probably feel relief that Chris is safe. That is... until any sort of confrontation with Chris or Martin having any suspicion that he's hurt him. Martin would probably self destruct after that. But in a way I think Martin would be able to handle everything else a bit better because Martin takes on the mindset of "Bad things happen sometimes and it's out of our control" Meanwhile Chris is a very meticulous thinker in the sense that there needs to be a reason for things happening, and there needs to be a person to blame them on. And I think Chris would try his absolute best to fill in his brother's role during his absence, but ultimately feel super out of his league and Aviva or Koki would end up being the ones to step up as team lead.

Because as much as Martin goofs off or seems unorganized, I don't think the team realizes just how much they rely on him to make decisions. Ofc they make a lot of choices as a team and it's definitely not Martin bossing them around all the time, but in times of crisis or emergency, Martin's quick decision-making is what keeps them on their feet. Chris is great at planning, organizing, and strategizing, but put him on the spot and the poor guy will implode.

Super interesting concept though! I appreciate your thoughts; thank you for the ask!

#wild kratts #littlecrittereli #asks #chris kratt #martin kratt #wk reprogrammed au #kratt brothers

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raz-writes-the-thing · 7 months

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Study Materials (Prodigal Son)

Martin Whitly x GN!Reader / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: Martin loves your singing voice. How convenient that it helps you study.

CW: Martin Whitly. that's it, that's the warning. (also fluff)

Prodigal Son tag list: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

It had started out innocently enough. You’d written to The Surgeon in hopes of getting some answers for your dissertation for University. You’d not expected a reply back, never mind an invitation to go and see him.

You’d left the letter on your bedside for about a month before deciding to bite the proverbial bullet and go to see him. You’d seen pictures of him online, of course. Knew as much about him as was relatively accessible online, but being able to meet him? To speak with him directly? Well, you’d be a fool to pass that opportunity up.

So you’d gone to see him. He was charming, almost soft? He’d answered some of your questions and deflected others. He was guarded but had seemed genuinely interested in your studies and degree.

“The human mind,” he’d said conspiratorially. “It’s quite the marvel.”

Quite the marvel indeed.

You’d gone back a second time because you’d thought of some more questions that would be great for your paper.

The third was to follow up on some of his answers that you’d forgotten to take all the notes down for.

And after that, well, you’d realised after quite some time that you were making up excuses to see him. Anything under the sun that seemed at least a vaguely reasonable excuse was used to get yourself time during his visitation.

And eventually, you just went because you wanted to. Taking in your notes and studying while making idle conversation, cracking jokes about classes and professors and sometimes just sitting in contented silence until visitation hours ran out.

On this particular day, you were reading and re-reading the same paragraphs of study materials. They were just not sinking in. Martin had the radio on softly and was singing quietly under his breath. You let your mind focus on that as you tried to read the materials one more time.

You got a little further this time and were actually making decent progress when Martin spoke up suddenly.

“That sounds lovely, my dear. I didn’t know you could sing!”

Your cheeks pinked immediately. You hadn’t even realised you’d been singing. You rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly, making sure not to paint yourself with your highlighter.

“Oh- yeah, only sometimes. Just can’t help it when the song is good, you know?”

Martin gives you one of his signature warm smiles.

“I understand, sweetheart. You really are very good,” he tilts his head thoughtfully. “It’s quite nice to hear a friendly voice in here. The radio only gets you so far.”

You note that Martin has a hopeful gleam in his eyes. Oh, he enjoyed it. Like, actually wants you to sing some more kind of enjoyed it. Your cheeks blush a little darker.

“Is that a request, Martin?”

The man in question hums invitingly.

“If you’d be so kind,” he says, trying not to let the hope bleed through too much.

You chuckle and go back to your readings. You won’t be able to sing if you’re not focussing on something else. Particularly if he’s paying attention solely to you.

You clear your throat and highlight a passage, adding in your annotations. Quietly at first, you start to sing along with the radio.

You find with the highlighting and the singing, the information soaks into your brain faster, and as you become more engrossed in the readings, you completely forget Martin is even there listening to you.

If you’d paid attention, you would have noticed the way Martin gave you a look of pure adoration. You would have noticed the way he closed his eyes and sighed with relief, letting the words wash over him.

And thus, a new studying tradition was born. Whenever you visited Martin in his cell with your textbooks and highlighters, he would brighten considerably. You fell into the routine and eventually, Martin started asking for requests- which you fulfilled if you knew the songs.

You could both get very used to this.

#A/N: where tf did all you singing requestors come from- i have like 10 of them please #a fella can only do so much #martin whitly #martin whitly imagine #martin whitly x reader #prodigal son #prodigal son imagine #michael sheen #martin whitly x you #dr whitly #dr. whitly x reader #prodigal son x reader #michael sheen x reader #x reader #martin whitly x yn #martin whitly x y/n #prodigal son fic #prodigal son fanfic #prodigal son fanfiction

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f1crecs · 11 months

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Fic Rec List - Fernando/Lance

you might enjoy: Canadian Fest, eh - for more Lance content.

If your fic is on this list and you don’t want it to be, please let me know and I will remove it immediately, no questions asked. I have contacted most of the authors on this list, but sometimes people fall through the gaps - just pop me a message🤍

have a pairing you want me to do next? please read the faqs and then head to my inbox.

don’t forget to give the authors featured on this list some love in the form of kudos, bookmarks, and comments!

i won't lie to you, anon... I thought we'd agreed on Strollonso as the pairing name. 🤭 my vote still goes to Lando.

i hope you enjoy these ❗️🤍

nsfw: El Dick Plan by @waddlingpenguin | E | 800 Lawrence and Fernando have a misunderstanding at the dinner table. This fic is hilarious - unashamedly unhinged, just as Strollonso should be, and so unbelievably funny. This was one of the first Lance/Fernando fics I read. I think it rearranged my brain a little bit.

'In fact, Lance literally has his foot so far up Fernando’s pant leg that Stoffel is surprised he’s not choking on Canadian toes each time he opens his mouth to talk to the engineers.'

shatter my life apart (see me for somebody else) by @vicsy | M | 1.4k An exploration of Lance and Fernando's relationship. This is a stunning fic. This author has just the most beautiful writing style - it's like poetry, and flows in the most stunning way. This is as much a love letter to Lance as it is to Strollonso - I really, really loved this one.

'Fernando Alonso is a perpetual wildcard and Lance builds his attitude around this little image, prepared for some sort of psychological warfare but it never happens.'

nsfw: victor's spoil by venerat | E | 1.9k Following Fernando's first pole for Aston Martin, Lance is invited to his room - a Winner's Room AU. The vibes here are suitably unhinged/rancid/possessive. If I were to recommend a fic to help someone get Strollonso, to understand the essence of who they are together, I would recommend this one. I love everything this author writes.

'Imagining Fernando with them makes Lance want to chew through wire. Again: fucked up, truly and extensively. He’s just really fucked up about Fernando.'

nsfw: I make two grand an hour by @kritischetheologie | E | 3.1k Lance meets Fernando for the first time at a sponsor event. I adored this fic. It is so funny and well-characterised and hot. One thing that I really love about this author is their ability to weave in detail - you could read their fics over and over again, and still pick up something new each and every time. It just makes for the richest, most delicious stories that draw you in every last time.

'(Lance had almost just said fuck it and gone into banking when he graduated two years ago, like he’d always known he probably would eventually, ever since the day he showed up at St. Andrews and realized that the entire world economy ran on fake numbers on a half-dozen computer screens, but the whole point of trust funds was supposed to be not having to be boring. Who the fuck else was going to make art? Humanity needed him to be living dramatically, falling in love with a thousand beautiful men whose lips he could immortalize in poetry.)'

nsfw: green light, red wine (and i don't feel fine) by @vicsy | E | 9k (wip) Fernando is a crime boss caught in a long-standing feud with Lawrence Stroll - things get complicated when he meets Lance. This fic is fantastic. The vibes are unmatched. This author has such a beautiful, almost melodic writing style, which I love. Also. This is fucking hot. 10/10.

'There aren’t many opportunities Fernando deliberately missed in his life. He wouldn’t be on top if he did. Right next to him, clad in a tight white t-shirt, sits an opportunity for a power move, the one Fernando would take all the way.'

nsfw: silver platter by @wewentcarracing | E | 9.7k Lance and Fernando grow closer, much to Esteban's dismay. This is delicious. Full of unhinged and intense moments. Every word of this is perfection; something I particularly appreciate about this author is their ability to build tension - you won't be able to put this story down once you've started it. Perfection.

'Lance laughs, off-guard and delighted. Fernando has this way of deciding what's true in his own mind and then forcing it into reality with brute strength alone. He's decided that Lance will make it to the podium this year, and so he will. It feels so, so good to hear coming from another driver—any driver, really, but the fact that it’s Fernando. Two-time WDC. Veteran. It doesn't feel like he's being toyed with; it feels real.'

nsfw: Not Even Jail by @baldrmoon | E | 9.9k (wip) Lance is a rookie detective with a new partner - they've met before. This is such a fantastic start to what I know is going to be an incredible story. The world-building here is fantastic. A world away from F1, but with so many of the dynamics and relationships mirrored in a totally new setting that feels very organic and true-to-life. It's just very well done, and I am excited to see what the author does next!

'Lance was charmed almost despite himself. The guy – Fernando, Lance made a mental correction, – smiled, a bit sideways, narrowing his eyes. Lance immediately felt flustered under his intense stare.'

#strollonso #alonstroll #1814 #fals #f1 rpf #pairing:fernando/lance #driver:fernando #driver:lance

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mrwavellswaps · 1 year

Text

A Worthy Replacement (Part 3)

(Written for @bodyswappingandshit ❤️)

Read Part 2 Here!

Martin found himself waking up early the next day. He must’ve forgotten to close his curtains last night as the morning sun immediately blinded him, prompting him to keep his eyes shut for a bit longer. As he did, he lamented over the amazing dream he’d had last night. In it he’d not only got to see the incredible Chris Bumstead in person but he also ended up transforming into him somehow and taking that award winning body all for himself! ‘If only that were real’ he thought. Only as the seconds ticked by, he started to remember more and more details strangely enough…

After a minute or two he rolled over in bed a little only to find that his weight and size felt off, not to mention the facial hair he felt rubbing against the pillow. His waking brain swiftly began to connect the dots causing Martin’s eyes to snap open and look down at himself. The very first thing he saw was a pair of thick meaty pecs that lead down to what looked to be a massive body hidden under the covers. That was no dream. He really did become Chris Bumstead and now he was waking up in his body!

A giddy smile soon crossed Martin’s face as he went to town feeling and groping his body once again. Tweaking his bodybuilder nipples with glee as he threw the covers off himself to admire everything he had now. Running his hands along his abs, giving his meaty thighs a hard slap, squeezing his colossal biceps and of course massaging his huge pecs with glee. And the best part was that he had Chris’ morning wood! Naturally he just couldn’t ignore it for another second. He wrapped a hand around the meaty shaft, one significantly thicker than his old one, and didn’t waste any time. He was too horny to tease himself or go slow, instead jumping immediately to jackhammering his new cock with no remorse.

The real Chris, in his underwear form, was still sat across the room atop a pile of clothes Martin had left him on. Forced to bear witness to his own body pleasuring itself. Having to listen to Martin grunting with that stolen voice as he pumped away. That alone was already torturous enough. Yet, just as he didn’t think it couldn’t get any worse, Martin started groaning about how much he loved being Chris Bumstead and having such a giant sexy body all to himself.

It felt as though it went on for hours with this imposter furiously beating his meat to the point where hearing him moaning about finally cumming seemed like a mercy. Martin tensed his abs and, with nothing but pure lust for his new form in his eyes, shot a huge load all over himself. His muscular torso gaining a healthy coating thick cum as he couldn’t help but lay back with a huge grin on his face. How the hell did he get so lucky he wondered.

The bodybuilder took a minute or so to bask in the afterglow before sitting up. He reached over towards the bedside table, grabbing a box of tissues before pulling a couple out. He gave himself a good wipe down, making sure to get right in between the ridges of his thick abs where the cum had pooled. It was only as he tossed those used tissue into the bin across the room that the pair of underwear atop the clothes pile caught his eye. He couldn’t help but smirk knowing the real Chris had seen everything that just went down. Was it mean? Yes. But was it hot? Absolutely!

He pushed himself off the rather small mattress and planted his heavy feet on floor before getting up with a long stretch. With that he stomped over towards the discarded clothes and picked up Chris in his underwear form first of all before grabbing Chris’ gym clothes from yesterday. After all he was still in his old apartment and none of his old clothes would ever fit a body like this. As such, Martin made a mental note to head down to Chris’ house today and check it out for himself. With that in mind and his clothes in hand, Martin promptly made his way towards the bathroom.

Chris found himself being dropped onto the cold bathroom floor along with the rest of the gym clothes he’d worn yesterday before that Wavell guy came and fucked everything up. He could just about see Martin stepping in front of the mirror with a gleeful look on his face. As expected it didn’t take long for him to start checking himself out again. Flexing his arms and bouncing his pecs joyously. Even digging his nose into his armpit and getting a whiff of that fresh morning scent.

Martin just couldn’t get enough of it. The raw size, power and smell of his body was nothing short of intoxicating. That along side his gorgeous looks make him feel on top of the world. He admired every defined ridge of muscle as if he were the one that’d sculpted them. Feeling every bulge with a look of pure satisfaction crossing his face. Truly nothing could beat the feeling of being a complete and utter muscle hunk. Hell being a muscle hunk was basically his job description now!

Though before he moved to brush his teeth, there was one last thing Martin wanted to do. He shuffled a tad closer to mirror and started pulling a bunch of silly faces that you’d almost never see the original Chris doing. It was so surreal and hilarious at the same time. He did all sorts from sticking his tongue out to a huge cheesy grin and even giving his reflection the puppy dog eyes. By the end he certainly got a good laugh out of it and weirdly enough seeing this face move completely under his command helped him feel just a tad bit more in tune with his new body.

After having his fun, Martin made sure to give his face a good wash and his teeth a clean before finally getting dressed. Naturally he pulled on the possessed underwear first and the moment he did, his mind was flooded with complaints from Chris about having to see Martin jerk off the cock that he stole, shouting about how it’s his body and demanding that Martin find a way to fix this immediately. Martin tried to be nice at first as he pulled on his shorts and tank top but Chris just wouldn’t let up. In the end it took Martin losing his patience and threatening to toss him in the washing machine at max spin for Chris to finally pipe down.

———

Half an hour later Martin found himself finishing a rather large bowl of oats along with a small smoothie he’d whipped up as per Chris’ suggestion. As he dunked the bowl into the sink to be washed, he began to wonder what the hell he should even be doing right now. After all he couldn’t just go to work like usual because, if Mr Wavell’s spell did what is was supposed to then, his former identity should’ve been erased altogether. Not to mention he was now an extremely well known body builder.

“So uhmm… what do you do for money and all that? I mean it can’t all just be the Olympia money right?” Martin asked curiously.

Chris rolled his metaphorical eyes at the question before answering reluctantly. “I run two businesses that I mainly advertise online. Cbum Fittness and Raw Nutrition. Just another reason you need to find a way to fix this because I know you’re sure as hell gonna crash and burn both of them. Especially since everyone probably thinks I’ve gone AWOL for the past day already!”

That was right, Martin remembered now. Cbum Fitness was Chris’ clothing brand and Raw Nutrition was his supplement brand. Unfortunately he was probably right about the last part as well. “Alright fine, I’ll head down to your place later but you’d better fill me in on everything I need to know about your friends, family and businesses. Otherwise it’s gonna be your fault when they crash and burn as you say.”

“Ha! I’m not gonna tell you shit! The less I tell you the more of a chance I have of people figuring out you’re a fucking imposter that somehow stole my body!” Chris scoffed.

Unfortunately Martin couldn’t exactly force the information out of Chris and it didn’t seem like the man turned underwear was gonna budge on his stance. That is until a certain naughty little idea popped into Martin’s head. Luckily for him, he was able to block his thoughts just enough for Chris not hear what he was planning…

Seconds later Martin grabbed his phone off the counter before swiping over to the camera. It was only when Martin pulled his shorts down, allowing Chris to actually be able to see, did the other man begin to question what he was doing. For a second Chris was worried Martin was gonna follow through with his threat about the washing machine but, unfortunately for him, Martin had something far better in mind.

“H-hey!?” What the fuck are you doing??” Chris shouted internally as Martin proceeded glance over his shoulder to take photo after photo of his thick muscle ass as it pressed tightly against the fabric of his underwear. Really making sure to get plenty of low angles that would make it look as juicy as possible despite all the protests. Once he was satisfied, Martin brought his phone back up and began scrolling through all the photo’s he just took.

“Oooooo… that one’ll do nicely!” He smirked before exiting photo’s and hopping over to Instagram. Upon logging in he was delighted to see that his assumption was correct. Instead of his own account, Martin was logged into Chris’ official and verified Instagram account instead! With a sinister grin he immediately jumped to post a new story on the account. He grabbed the best of many ass photo’s he’d taken and selected it for the story before adding the caption *‘Who else thinks my ass is lookin thicc as fuck today?’* Then with one final smirk Martin pressed the post button and watched as within seconds the story was getting likes, DM replies and reposts galore! Not too surprising considering he now had over 15 and a half million followers!

It was getting increasingly difficult for Chris to read any of Martin’s thoughts as the latter got better at hiding them. But he was able to gather enough to know he’d posted something to Instagram. That coupled with the pics Martin had just taken threw Chris into a panicked spiral. “Oh no no no! What the hell did you just do!?”

Martin didn’t say a word. He simply opened up the story again and lowered the phone in front of his crotch so that Chris could see for himself. Needless to say he was absolutely mortified to see an admittedly rather alluring picture of his thick ass posted on social media for everyone to drool over!! After a moment or two of shock he went ballistic! Screaming and threatening Martin to take it down right away but the man now in possession of his body was completely unfazed by his madness. Instead he opted to set up a tripod before opening his camera app once again and placing it on said tripod.

The hulking man took a few steps back after hitting the record button until his full body was finally in frame. Getting a glorious shot of Chris Bumstead himself stood in only a tank top, briefs and gym socks. The real Chris was both confused and very worried as Martin spun around to show his backside once more. Martin proceeded to look over his shoulder towards the camera once more with a grin before squatting down a little and arching his back. But it wasn’t until he began to feel a certain up and down, almost bouncing, motion that it dawned on him what Martin was doing…

“Mmmm wow… look at my ass shake!” Martin chuckled as he proceeded to twerk like a pro for the camera. “Fuuuuck… even with all the muscle there’s so much recoil to it.” He complimented himself, starting to feel his dick stir once again at the sight of his big muscle butt jiggling like it was. He made a point to show it off as much as possible, rotating his hips a few times before squatting down a little more and really throwing it back as if he were a porn star trying to make his living.

Chris was utterly appalled by what Martin was forcing his body to do. Let alone recording it!? He tried telling the man to stop but by now he should’ve known that was pointless. Instead he just had to sit and endure it whilst feeling every shake of his own ass against his fabric body until Martin was finally satisfied.

“Now *that* is a hot video. I’m willing to bet there’s people out there who’d pay hundreds to see yo- *me* twerking like this.” Martin commented as he watched the recording back, knowing full well that before all this he would’ve done anything to get his hands on a video like this. “So now you’ve got two choices. Either you tell me what I need to know or I post this video of me shaking this gorgeous ass of mine. Simple as that.”

Chris was silent for a moment but that alone was telling enough. “Fine… I’ll tell you.” He mumbled at last just as Martin knew he would.

Over the next couple hours, Martin took a crash course on the personal life of Chris Bumstead. Making sure to ask every important question he could think of about his new life to which Chris reluctantly answered. Though it’s not as if he had much of a choice with the threat of him twerking going viral looming over his metaphorical head. Martin tried to memorise the simple things but wrote down a few other details he might need just in case. After all the last thing he needed was his new family and friends interrogating him and thinking he had amnesia or something. But eventually 11:00am rolled around and Martin decided it was about time he hit the gym before checking out Chris’ place.

It didn’t take long for Martin to gather up his stuff and make a quick protein shake before tossing it all in a bag. Chris had asked a couple times if Martin could take him off and wear some normal underwear to the gym but Martin refused. After all he might need the bodybuilding champion’s advice for certain exercises. And so Martin tossed on his sneakers, getting flashbacks to when he’d been huffing them just yesterday, before heading off to the gym. A place where he’d probably be spending a lot more time at from now on.

———

Upon stepping foot inside the gym once again, Martin couldn’t help but feel a wave of nervousness flow over him. One would think that with his new body he’d feel confident, cocky even, knowing he was bigger and stronger than most of the men here. Yet he couldn’t help but blush and feel incredibly shy as he noticed people looking at him, clearly recognising him for who he was. It was swiftly becoming clear that being a celebrity was something that would take some getting used to. For now he just tried to mind his business and make his way into the locker room.

Upon opening Chris’ locker, Martin found the spare clothes and towel he’d left in there last time he was here. Well at least now he’d have something else to wear after the gym until he got his hands on some more clothes that actually fit around this tank of a body. For now he proceeded to drop off his stuff in the locker and close it up before taking a deep breath and heading towards the sound of clanking weights and grunting men.

Martin looked around the gym at all the various different pieces of equipment. Of course he’d used most of it before and back then he wasn’t worried about making a silly mistake here and there. But now? With the feeling that everyone would be watching? He couldn’t help but let his nerves get the best of him at first, instead opting to start by walking on the step machine for awhile to build himself up. During which he took his sneakers off as it was usually best to do such during leg day. Allowing the pungent scent from his socks and feet to be freed. Even now those socks were wet with sweat and they would only become more so as his session went on.

During this he found himself having a bit of an inner conversation with Chris. The man was telling him to stop complaining and just get the hell on with it. Besides they’d already gone over Chris’ whole leg routine for the day so all Martin had to do was man-up and get it done. He also made a note of saying he wanted it over with as soon as possible as he was already beginning to smell a faint aroma of sweat of which he wasn’t particularly fond of…

Martin took what Chris had said to heart before jumping off the treadmill and making his way over towards the leg extension machine. Come on! He was Chris Bumstead now for crying out loud! He couldn’t let the fear of judgement get in his way. Instead he got himself sat down on the machine after adjusting the weight to the exact amount Chris had suggested. 120KG! Martin hesitated for a second as he’d never been able to do that much weight on a leg extension before but looking down at his gigantic quads gave him all the confidence he needed to give it a shot.

Though the weight was heavy, Martin found himself managing to crank out two full sets without too much issue, pushing his big smelly feet up into view of everyone at the gym with every rep. At which point he decided to up the weight from 120 to 140. After that he was finally starting to feel a burning in his quads but it felt incredible! Like that burning sensation of pushing your muscles to work hard and grow was something this body was truly addicted to and he loved it!

After a couple more sets he found himself satisfied and ready to move onto the next exercise and if memory served then it was over to the hack squat machine. Planting his damp, socked feet on the pad as Martin began his low weight warm up set, he would’ve noticed the few wandering eyes from around the gym if it hadn’t been for Chris already complaining about the smell. Martin was starting to build up a bit of a sweat and nobody was more aware of it than the pair of sentient underwear that had to absorb it. And absorb he did as Martin continued to work up more and more of a sweat once he put some proper weight on the machine. Making sure to go nice and deep with every squat. Beforehand part of him had been dreading the idea of having to workout everyday to maintain this body but now he was here, Martin had no idea why!

“Fuuck I’m so damp…” Chris mumbled in the back of Martin’s mind as the hunk finished up his last set here. “God it fucking smells…” he continued on, referring to Martin’s cock and balls stinking him up as they got sweatier along with the rest of his body. Though just hearing those comments made Martin’s dick twitch. Knowing Chris was being forced to sniff it all up. It was basically the equivalent of if he’d been forced to shove his face into his own crotch and was unable to remove it. It was making Martin so horny but he had to keep his cool for now.

This cycle ends up repeating itself throughout Martin’s entire routine. As with every new exercise Martin would only find himself sweating more and more, leaving a seemingly endless supply of sweat for Chris to unwillingly absorb into his fabric body. After the hack squat he jumped to leg press machine, keeping his feet to the bottom for quad focus upon Chris’ instructions. Though Martin couldn’t help but notice the subtle slurring of Chris’ words as he explained. Yet he continued on, pushing himself further and surprising himself with how good his form was thanks to muscle memory.

Before long Martin was drenched in sweat after completing a few sets of Bulgarian split squats, which were hellish even with his incredible new body. But as he made his way over to a weighted calf raise machine, Martin couldn’t help but notice how quiet Chris was getting. Throughout that entire last exercise, all he heard was “Sooo moist…” along with a couple other murmurs that he couldn’t make out. I seemed like having to absorb all that sweat and musk was having more of an effect on Chris than Martin thought it would…

The hunk didn’t take long with jumping into calf raises, tugging on his large sneakers once again beforehand and entrapping his musky scent inside them once more.

As he did he found himself glancing around the room again. Seeing all these people of different shapes and sizes. And yet… he was biggest. Huge all over with pure muscle that made him look like a beast. He couldn’t help but feel a certain sense of pride in that fact but he tried to stay humble all the same just as the real Chris would. Of course that didn’t stop him checking himself out a little in one of the many wall mirrors after his last exercise before finally heading back to the locker rooms.

He pulls out the bag with the spare clothes from yesterday along with a clean towel before getting undressed. He figured he could probably get a shower at Chris’ place but it was probably better to take care of this workout stench ASAP. Proceeding to wrap the towel around his waist after taking off his possessed underwear and tossing them in his locker for the time being, still slightly concerned about the lack of communication from Chris as he headed towards the showers.

Naturally part of Martin wanted to do a replay of last night where he’d been worshipping himself under the steaming water but he couldn’t even begin to imagine the headlines if people heard him pleasuring himself in a local gym. Nope, now he was a celebrity he had to be more careful about those kinds of things. Which certainly meant he couldn’t go around stealing other men’s sweaty clothes and sniffing them, even if that was how he managed to get this incredible and famous body to begin with.

Thankfully he managed to keep himself under control despite not quite getting used to how erotic it was to wash such a huge muscular body. Martin stepped back into the main locker room with the towel around his waist once again before reaching into his locker and grabbing the clean clothes Chris had brought with him the previous day. There was a clean pair of underwear as well but Martin decided to put on Chris anyway to see if he’d gotten over whatever weird haze he was in earlier. After all, there was still so much he needed to learn about his new life.

Martin locked himself in a changing cubicle, ironically the same one in which his transformation had occurred, and pulled on the underwear first and foremost. Right away he could hear Chris’ voice in his head once more. “Yooouu fuckinn asshole… Give back… my… my… mmmm musk… fuuuuuck…” Chris mumbled. He was slurring his words like hell as if he were drunk out of his mind but at least he was talking again. With a sigh of relief, Martin threw on the rest of his clothes before grabbing his stuff and marching his way out of the locker room. Next stop was his new house so he could start figuring out his new life for real!

———

The next couple days were a headache to say the least. Trying to integrate himself into another man’s life wouldn’t easy for anyone, especially one as famous as Chris Bumstead. It didn’t help that the real Chris was still quite reluctant to help out of spite half the time and Martin usually had to resort to blackmailing him again with the video he’d made.

When he first arrived at Chris’ house it was quite the whirlwind. He had friends and family alike all asking where the hell he’d been prompting him to come up with some elaborate lies as to why he’d gone awol for a day and a half. Not to mention half of them having seen his Instagram story which was a little harder to explain. Guess he hadn’t thought that one through entirely at the time. Regardless, by some miracle, he was able to convince them he was the real Chris. After all its not like anyone could’ve stolen his body because that’d just be insane right? Nonetheless Martin did get a couple comments that he seemed a little… off. Luckily he was able to convince everyone that he was just struggling with some ‘Personal Stuff’ that he wasn’t ready to talk about just yet.

After that he found himself settling into Chris’ life pretty well for time being. He had a decent place for sure. Not too big but still fancy enough that anyone could tell he was well off. Martin had already gotten glimpses of the place before when watching Chris’ YouTube video’s in the past but it certainly looked a little different now. He could only guess that was because it no longer had Chris’ former fiancée’s touch due to Wavell’s reality spell making it so they were never together.

It was then that an amazing idea came to mind. He was single now but the world still thinks Chris is straight so what better way than to introduce his new self to the world than to sign up to a gay dating app! Sure he could try doing some big public announcement and get all the social media praise but that wouldn’t be as fun.

Besides that Martin continues to run his new businesses as well as he can while keeping up with the workout routine Chris had guided him through. Well sort of anyway. It was like every time Martin went to the gym these past few days, Chris was getting more and more drunk on the sweat and musk. Always slurring his words when they communicated and making off hand comments about how he wanted more sweat. How he wanted the smell now rather than rejecting it. Martin even resorted to washing Chris despite the protests in an effort to get him back to normal which didn’t work exactly how he’d planned. If anything it just pissed him off, saying how it felt like he’d been forced to eat soap. Sure it made him a tad more normal for awhile but it didn’t take long for him to start groaning about musk again once Martin continued to wear him.

The hunk knew he should probably stop wearing Chris so often as to preserve his mind but he so often found himself needing to ask questions. Not to mention he couldn’t help the fact that hearing Chris groan about loving his scent turned him on like hell. Even now after nearly a week of his new life he was back at the gym again and wearing his Chris underwear like usual. Just doing what was now supposed to be his normal routine while trying not to get a boner because of how much loved his new self and how much he adored hearing Chris moan.

———

It was chest day for Martin and he was really trying to push his limits with bench pressing to see how far he could go. However, after putting a bunch of weight on the bar, he found himself struggling to push the bar up for his final rep. Arms shaking a little as he started to contemplate shoving the bar off to the side so he doesn’t end up crushing himself. That is until another man walked up and grabbed the bar, helping Martin put it back safely on the rack.

“Hey bro. I know you’re a big dude and you know your shit but you should probably have someone spotting you if you’re gonna press weight like that.” The man said with a smile as he offered a hand to help sit Martin up. As he did, Martin was able to get a better look at this guy. He was pretty huge that was for sure. Thick, powerful muscle that would’ve intimidated the hell out of Martin if it weren’t for the size he’d adopted from Chris. Instead he simply found himself trying to hide his lust for it as he briefly checked out this man’s other features. Cropped strawberry blonde hair paired with a short and well trimmed beard. A sharp, handsome and masculine face fitting for a meathead type of dude with some charm. Not to mention to layer of hair coating those bulbous pecs of his that looked as though they were spilling out of that tank top.

“Oh uhhh yeah of course. Pretty fuckin stupid of me to go that heavy without a partner. Thanks man.” Martin replied, trying not to make it too obvious how badly he wanted to fuck this man right now. More importantly he was trying to remember if Chris had ever mentioned a dude like this. Was he somebody he was supposed to know? A workout buddy of Chris’? Or was he just another dude at the gym? It was questions like this that’d been giving Martin a hard time since taking over Chris’ life.

Before Martin had time to figure it out, the man spoke up again. “Hey, how’s about we finish our routines together. I’m hitting chest as well so we can spot each over yeah?” He suggested cheerfully to which after a moment of thought Martin agreed. “Alright! That’s my man! Now move over so I can get my own bench press in!” He chuckled.

Martin stood over the bench from behind as this strange man heaved the heavy bar up and down. It was impressive to say the least. Sure Martin had just been doing that weight but he had the body of Mr Fuckin Olympia on his side. As he spotted, he tried to question the real Chris on who this man might be but he wasn’t a whole lot of help. He was already part way into his workout so Chris was already getting to that subtle moaning stage where he hardly replied. Despite that he couldn’t help but get a strange feeling that he should know this guy somehow.

The two continued to exercise together, taking turns using machines and spotting each over when using weights.

The pair of them making small talk as they went with Martin still trying to figure out a smart way to ask who the hell this guy was without making it obvious. Though he could swear this dude was flirting with him with all the comments was making about how incredible Martin’s body looked all the time. Some of which Martin couldn’t help but return.

Eventually though, after plenty of hard work and really putting themselves to the test, the two gorgeous hunks found themselves at the end of their shared workout. Sweaty and exhausted yet both loving the pump they’d gotten. Seems this guy was just as addicted to feeling the burn of a good workout as Martin’s new body was.

They headed into the locker room together when suddenly the mystery hunk said something strange. “You still haven’t realised have you? Who I am?” He smirked.

Martin turned with a raised eyebrow. “W-what do you mean?”

The other man took a few steps closer. “I mean it makes sense. After all I certainly didn’t look like this the last time you saw me.” He said while gesturing down at his impressive muscled physique. “I picked a good one, that’s for sure.”

Martin narrowed his eyes a little as he turned to look at the hunk properly again. Scanning over his body once more as the cogs in his brain began to turn. Surely not. It couldn’t be right?! “Who are you?”

“About time you asked! Well right now I’m going by my current body’s first name, Kyle. But you would know me better as the friendly wizard next door, Mr Wavell!” He exclaimed with a joyous grin on his face.

Now it all made sense. That weird feeling he got earlier. How friendly and flirty this guy had been acting with him. It all made sense! This was somehow that crazy magic dude that’d made all this possible in the first place! “Oh wow…” was all he could say initially as he processed it all. “…So this is the new body you and your boyfriend picked out huh?”

“It is indeed my man. This youth and muscle looks fucking incredible on me don’t you think?” Kyle Wavell praised himself as he flexed a little, showing off his goods. “This body makes me feel like such god damn hunk!” He kissed one of his bulging biceps with a cocky grin. “But I’ve got to confess. This isn’t the only new body I took. I may have gotten a little greedy and took two that I can transform between as I please.”

Martin almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing right now. Had it not been for his own situation then he definitely wouldn’t have. “Wait two!? What does the other one look like?”

Wavell wagged a finger and tutted. “Sorry big man, I’ve dubbed today ‘Kyle day’ so I won’t be shifting into my other self as of right now. Sorry to disappoint. But hey maybe next time I see ya I’ll introduce you to my other body who wouldn’t you know it is also called Chris.” He explained, clearly having way too much acting like a meathead today. “But now for the real reason I’m here. I wanted to ask if you’d received any of Chris’ memories yet?”

“Memories? Nope. I’ve just been asking him a ton of questions mainly. Although he hasn’t been as helpful lately. He won’t stop grunting and going on about my smell.”

Wavell grinned as it seemed Martin hadn’t figured out another little aspect of the magic he’d placed on Chris and Martin. “Well faking it might get you through the short term but eventually you’re gonna find yourself tripping up trying to juggle Chris’ life if you don’t have the all memories you need to do so. Luckily for you however, all you need to do is ask.”

“What? What do you mean ask? Like he can just give his memories to me whenever he wants?” Martin questioned.

“I guess you could say that. The way it works is that all you’ve gotta do is ask Chris to give you his memories. If he agrees they’ll automatically be transferred with you. After that you’ll be all set.” The Warlock continued while scratching his beard nonchalantly. “And guessing by what you’ve told me… I’m willing to bet he’s already pretty suggestive.”

Martin glanced down at his crotch. Was it really that easy all along? All he had to do… was ask?

“Well as much as I’d love to stay, chat and suck each over off, I promised Dane I wouldn’t be long. I’m surprised he hasn’t showed up already to see what’s taking me.” Wavell chuckled. “Besides I can already tell you’ve got plenty of other men lined up and ready to suck your cock judging by all the notifications from that dating app you installed.”

“How did you know about that??”

“Magic.” Wavell said as he waved a pair of jazz hands at the clueless sculpture of a man before him. “Anyway I’ve bodies to swap, people to transform and a boyfriend to please so I’ll leave you to it bro. I have every faith that you’ll squeeze those memories out of your friend down there and be living your best life soon enough!” He clasped his hands enthusiastically. “So until me meet again Chris.” He smirked before vanishing before Martin’s eyes in a swift flash of purple smoke, theatrical as always. Hardly giving Martin a chance to say goodbye.

And so the bodybuilder was left on his own once again. Now he knew exactly what he had to do in order to truly make this new life his own. And he was going to take it.

———

The door to Martin’s new place swung open as he got home from a jog back from the gym, already having worked up a decent sweat and for good reason. He didn’t have anything lined up for the rest of the day as far as he could recall which meant he had the place to himself. Perfect.

“So Chris. Not sure if you heard what that crazy magic guy said but I’m gonna need you to give up ownership of your memories!” He proclaimed out loud after tossing his shorts off and across the room. “So you gonna give em to me or what?”

Chris groaned a little as he tried to comprehend Martin’s words. “Mmmm… fuuck… what? Memories?… N-no. They’re mine… you can’t have them.” He just about managed to reply despite his seemingly drunken state.

“Oh yeah? Well let’s see if I can help change that tune of yours. You like feasting on your own sweat don’t ya?” Martin jumped on the treadmill without hesitation, tapping a few buttons before the thing started to move.

“Yes I… No… I don’t absolutely fucking love that sweaty scent. No fuck!…” Chris battled with himself and the new urges that’d been growing inside him over the last few days. Urges that’d becoming increasingly hard to fight against to the point where it was burdening on addiction. But he couldn’t give in! He couldn’t let this imposter win!

Martin soon found himself turning the treadmill up from a jog to a run. Hearing the machine creak slightly under his weight with every step. More and more sweat dripping from every pore. Soaking his tank top and more importantly his underwear more and more with every second. Pushing himself to go for as long and fast as possible. Running until he felt as though he’d just stepped out into heavy rain with how drenched he was. So much so that Chris was becoming overwhelmed by the intensifying smell. More or less shouting internally about how much he fucking loves the smelly scent and that he wants to absorb every last drop of sweat like a mad man.

“Ready to… give up those… memories yet!?” Martin shouted down at the pair of sentient briefs between heavy breathes as he slowed the treadmill down at last. Hoping that the overload of smell and sweat he’d just given the former Mr Olympia had been enough to wear him down.

“Fuck! Fuck! So sweaty! So fucking smelly! Smells soooo good! I-I-” Chris stuttered as he finally processed what he’d been asked again. “I… said no! You can’t have my memories!!” He continued to protest despite it all which came as quite the shock to Martin.

He really though that would do it. Martin started to think that maybe he’d have to give it a few more days. Wait for Chris’ mind to hopefully corrupt a little further until it was more malleable. Maybe then he’ll be able to get the answer he wants. However, just as he was about to give up for now, an idea sprung to mind causing a devilish smirk to spread across Martin’s handsome yet stolen face.

The massive hunk of man hurried his way to the bedroom after kicking off his sneakers and peeling off his shirt. He soon found himself kneeled on his new king sized bed facing the huge bedroom wall mirror that covered the closet. Damn he loved his new place. Almost as much as he loved pleasuring this new body of his. A body didn’t ever plan on losing.

With that Martin sunk a hand down into his briefs, earning a strangely satisfied grunt from Chris as his fabric body was stretched. After which grabbing his already half hard cock and giving it a few strokes. Now usually this would be the point where he pulls down his briefs some more to unleash his cock completely but not this time. No sir. Those briefs stayed right where they were as Martin kept pumping away at his huge manhood despite the constraining fabric.

“H-hey? Mmmm fuck… W-what are you doing!?” Chris panicked a little while battling with his urges, trying hard not to moan out again about how much he adored the scent he was absorbing. Unfortunately for him Martin didn’t answer. He simply continued to jack himself off while glancing at his own reflection in the mirror and talking to himself about how fucking huge and sexy he was and that he’d never go back in a million years.

It wasn’t long before Martin’s fat cock started to leak precum and, just like all the sweat so far, Chris was forced to drink it up and taste his former body’s pre. He tried to ignore how good it tasted at first but it was impossible. It was even better than all the sweat he’d been guzzling so far. So sweet but salty at the same time, yet so so addictive. He wanted more. No he needed more! It wasn’t long before he was begging for more precum to spread inside even more so than getting more sweat.

“Yeah you want it? You want my cum? Well I can give you a whole fucking load if you want!” Martin promised, continuing to jerk with vigour.

“Yes! Yes please give it to me! I need it so badly! I need to taste it!” Chris begged in a frenzy. God if only his former self could’ve seen him now. Trapped as a pair of briefs and begging to be cum inside. “Please just blow your load in me!”

That was it. Martin he had him at last. He kept pumping for a few more minutes and letting Chris soak up as much precum as possible before finally answering again. “Alright I’ll give it to you. But only on one condition. Give me those fucking memories!!” He demanded.

Chris was silent for moment. It was clear that he was battling against himself right now. He wanted so badly to say no but he just as badly wanted to have that load. It was tearing him apart! So much so that he ended up shouting out an answer on impulse. “Yes! Fine! Take them! Have my memories! I don’t care just blow your looooaaaaadddddd…” Chris trailed off as suddenly the very memories he’d just given up started getting sucked out right out of his mind in one of the most pleasurable sensations he’d every experienced.

“Holy fuuuuuuucckkkk!!!” Martin bellowed out as an entire life began pouring itself inside his head. Core memory after memory showing up in his mind one after the other as if he actually experienced them. All of Chris Bumstead adventures, experiences, ideas and skills swiftly becoming his. An entire identity all being transferring in one go, instantly skyrocketing to the number one most bizarre thing Martin had ever felt and probably ever will feel. Quite literally having a life flash before his eyes.

Before he knew it the sheer intensity of the transfer caused Martin to bust one of the biggest loads of his life, soaking the underwear even more so than it already was with his thick virile seed. Some managed to push through the fabric and drip onto the bed sheets but most of it was absorbed rather quickly for… obvious reasons.

“Yessssss… cummmm! I love cum! Cum and sweat! Soooo delicious…” The original Chris mumbled mindlessly. With all his memories drained he hardly even knew who he was anymore. Now he was nothing more than a piece of horny sentient fabric with a one track mind.

Gently Martin slipped off the underwear, dropping it on the floor in a messy pile so he didn’t have to hear those horny moans any longer. Instead he took a step towards the mirror and looked at his reflection again. Before he’d always felt like an outsider. And Imposter parading around in someone else’s skin. But now? He was the real deal. That man staring back at him in the mirror. It wasn’t some other dude who’s body he’d stolen. It was him! He was Chris Bumstead now! And nothing was every going to change that!

“And I’ll be a better version of Chris than you ever were.” He muttered, looking back at the discarded cum filled underwear on the floor before turning back to the mirror and kissing his reflection. God he fucking loved himself. And he was gonna love his new life even more!

With that the new Chris made his was to the bathroom so he could wash up and get all this strong manly stench washed away for the time being. After all he was planning on meeting a guy tonight and he wanted to make a good first impression. It was time to reveal to the world the new and improved, very gay Chris Bumstead.

Epilogue coming soon…

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visenyaism · 1 year

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Top 5 asoiaf historical characters or top 5 povs to read from ?

my favorite chapter of all time still goes to the tyrion boat school chapter in adwd but in terms of favorite POVs to read?

6. joncon- giving myself a bonus one to talk about how reading his chapters made me feel like i was dissolving like a powerpoint transition. there’s just so much grief and love and bitterness and doom packed into there it is unreal.

5. sam- gender. he is just so special i’ve never read a fantasy protag quite like samwell tarly and his quest to realize his compassion, empathy, and courage are his greatest strengths despite being discouraged by hypermasculine violent feudal society. he is the real protagonist of asoiaf to me.

4. jonsnow- i liked his pov’s in all the books, but ADWD where he is just trying as hard as possible not to be the protagonist after going though like 4 different genres (can u BELIEVE he started off as a boarding school protagonist) even though he literally has super strengthis so beloved to me. His ongoing crisis where he has to realize that despite everything everyone tries to impose on him he has only ever been just himself is so so real (just as real as him being king beyond the wall. btw) though getting immediately killed for it has to be a downer. MY son was turncloak of the month at castle black👍

3. Jaime- he’s funny. he’s cringe. he stares a lot for someone who can’t fight. he’s delusional. he can’t fit a whole knight in his head. he hasn’t emotionally matured past the age of seventeen. everything he says is insane and also heartbreaking. i love jaime POVs so much y’all don’t get it.

2. Cersei- reading cersei i for the first time last year rewired my brain and i was loud about it. Unlike cersei i was not raised by a fascist nightmare but as a nonbinary girltwin i can say that getting raised alongside a direct example of what your life would’ve been like without misogyny can be very hard, especially when you hit puberty and the “your brother is a person and you are the girl one” starts to get even louder. I was fucking alarmed how personally compelling her weird gender thoughts were given EVERYTHING else the Lannister twins have going on that is NOT personally relevant to me. Don’t know how george rr martin old cishet man that he is knew about any of that.

She’s completely delusional, and at times her mental gymnastics are so so fucking funny, but the like roiling layer of unspeakable (literally unspeakable she refuses to speak or acknowledge it) pain and fear underneath is what got me really. Watching her scheme out of arrogance and mortal terror really just to gain respect and bodily autonomy (though in the Tywin way where freedom from abuse and the “right” to abuse others are the same thing) and then just losing everything incredibly fucking hard was really compelling. i hope you win.

1. Melisandre- wait i said another chapter was my favorite of all time in this post? no i didn’t not when melisandre i is in the room. i have talked about this one extensively and probably will do so again. Finding out that r’hllor is literally her enslaved and her entire black and white apocalyptic worldview is her attempt to feel safe within that truth because she is still just a scared little girl at heart who needs what she’s saying to be true because if it’s not none of her suffering was worth it was the revelation of all time. That and the revelation that she actually does have a human attachment to Davos to the point that she’s watching over his son to spare him the grief. We WILL get melisandre ii in this lifetime and it will break my heart all over again because she is going to outlive stannis and have to survive the worldview shattering.

#i am a PROUD cognitive dissonance unreliable narrator enjoyer. and AFFC’s strongest soldier #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #listen i love all the regulars. there’s just so many heavy hitters in affc and adwd #WAIT THEON. NOOOOOOO

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posallys · 5 months

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ok 1 ur desktop theme is GORG and 2 i need (if u wanna) ur thoughts about the show (or show sally in gen bc ur the only one i trust with her)

thank you!! i was actually thinking about updating it but maybe i wont 🤭🤭 and i have a lot of thoughts about the show except none only very few of them are good and i will be crucified by the 13-year-olds

im going to tell you anyway.

i will start with something i like....percy being angry. like yes give me the anger of a 12 year old who feels utterly alone in the world and doesn't understand (or does and it makes him more angry)

the fight scenes are dog shit. the only kind of cool one was in the arch but it was only cool because of percy doing the bait and switch and falling through the arch...the fights are bland boring sucky whatever other synonym you wanna use

uhhhhh sally jackson is not and would never be sitting in the rain pining of the god she told to leave....and especially not to teen pop...if she WERE going to act like a 16 year old and do the pining thing it would be to fucking like...billy joel and ricky martin and donny hathaway and stuff llike that okay...

i will preface this by saying that yes i understand that talking back to an abuser the way sally does in ep 1 doesn't make the abuse less abusive....however i DO not like the fact that that scene explicitly goes against sally characterization in the books....i am not digging my book out atm but the part where percy is like "my mother has never raised her voice or said an unkind word to anyone"....me thinks the writers all read the books 10 years ago and are going off of memory alone + or their brains are so clouded by the obsessive Big Screen Need to make women a badass girlboss slay queen i fucking hate it here

LET ANNABETH BE SILLY AND FUNNY AND CUTE AND CRY AND NOT BE AN ADULT THANK YOU....hated that they made annabeth the one to realize that it was medusa and not grover...give me back grover having to wrangle percy and annabeth into backpack leashes just to keep them on task/stop them from wandering off...book trio i miss you

i absolutely ADORE leah, walker, and aryan though the three of them are so so perfect, A+ casting no notes couldn't have done it better myself. if it weren't for the three of them i would have zero hope for the show i cannot lie...they're carrying. without them it's just..bad.

the pacing???? bad.

why did we waste half of the 4th ep on the train with echidna...stupid dumb pointless i hate it here

i do like the whole not all monsters are monsters and the gods aren't inherently good just because they're gods thing they've got going on though...very inch resting...silently hoping that they do a complete 180 and have percy side with luke and redo the series from there because that would be iconic as fuck <3 a girl can dream because at least then i could take the show at face value and not take 80 health damage every time they mess up a key part of the books...im at -29834 heath rn.

where was the time at chb before the quest??? the oh so important vital scene where luke teaches percy to sword fight???? like BRO that's soooooooooooo important to ME how could you get rid of that

not having annabeth show percy around camp

additionally, not having annabeth feed him the nectar and ambrosia, WHICH BY THE WAY they haven't even mentioned in the show yet...plot armor gone rip

not the fredrick chase sympathy while simultaniously blaming the woman...........rick when i get my hands on you...

annabeth having to EARN thalia's love??? absolutely not probably one of their biggest fuck ups fr.

the scene where sally is talking about Poseidon to percy...i do not like it sam i am. bad. not wistful enough not longing enough not sad enough not gut wrenching enough...also not completely here for sally telling percy that his dad was a god because....sallys whole thing was NOT telling him in order to keep him safe...i know they changed it in the show so sally knew he was going to camp immediately but that does not mean i have to like it

the scene with sally and percy in the pool. i hated everything about that. sally would never talk to percy like that never talk to him about money never make it seem embarassing NOT TO MENTION that percy simply wasn't scared of the water. that's stupid as fuck. theres a part in the book where percy literally says being by the water calms both him and his mom like...come the fuck on just admit you can't fucking read or at least didn't read the book.

sally annabeth get behind me so they cant hurt you anymore

i did loveeeee percy praying to sally though...absoutely insane and true of them. also the "I AM SALLY JACKSON'S SON" yesss baby you tell them about your mommy!!!!!!

them making athena moa level bad in tlt is quite interesting. setting up annabeth siding with percy pretty well.

also the whole impertinence thing over medusa's head was weird to me. when annabeth first said that i had immediately thought that annabeth's impertinence was telling percy to pray to poseidon IN ATHENA'S TEMPLE bc that made much more sense to me...but whatever

the annabeth/medusa parallel is intriguing at the very least

the underwater scene with the neraid was cool even though i hated the parallel to the pool scene w/ sally.

the dumbass pinecone fate line. 0/10 did you read the book? did you pay attention to how empathetic and reflective percy was when he found out about thalia?

honestly....i think disney was just the wrong place to go with this show because it's like what...pg? it should be pg 13 and should have more... sustenance.

this medusa was so cool though. which we could've seen a fight.

i need to know how many women are in the writer's room though...because It Does Not Look Good. funny how the characters that they're fucking up are all women....crazy. weird. totally coincidental.

are we just not going to talk about the vitality and pressure of getting the bolt back on time? where is the inherent inevitable danger, the suspense, the fear of not accomplishing a seemingly impossible talk looming over everything

this is 10000% not all of my thoughts but im not going to rewatch in order to collect them all so this is what you get xoxox

#taylor answers #ask tag #anon #pjo tv #pjo tv crit #pjo show #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson

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cult-of-the-eye · 4 months

Text

Jon angst!! He gets a therapist. It makes him worse.

tw: grief, unhealthy coping mechanisms, scars

“So how have you been?”

The question is a completely anticipated one. Jon enjoys the structure of the sessions. The chairs are always facing each other and slightly uncomfortable, the sun is streaming through the window overlooking the car park and she always asks Jon how he’s been. And he always provides the same answer.

“Alright.”

“Yeah?”

His hands smooth over the scar on his thumb. Soothing circles over what was far from a comforting experience.

“It’s been…difficult.”

“In what way?”

Many. He wants to say. Abruptness and off-putting behaviours are out of place at a therapist’s office. She’s trying to help you, Martin would coax him through his thoughts like a feral cat out of an alley.

“I guess, I just-”

She nodded. It wasn’t tea and soft looks but it would have to do.

“I was in the supermarket and I thought I heard Tim’s voice. I left things…badly and it was completely my fault, but I…I don’t know. I just really believed it was him.”

“That must’ve been tough.”

Such a cliche, therapist thing to say. They can’t empathise so they just provide sympathetic looks and synonyms for difficult. Martin’s not exactly here to stop him from hating her in his mind.

“What did you do?”

Jon took a second to remember. The whole scene felt like thinking through fog. Pulling his memories out of his brain with a pitchfork. How he felt stayed with him. It wasn’t too different to how he currently felt.

“I…froze. It was like…it was like all the bones in my body were…calling out for something.”

“Yeah?”

“But I knew I couldn’t reach it, so I froze. I think, my body made the decision for me.”

“It sounds like your fight or flight response kicked in. It’s a way, as you’ve put it so well, of your body taking care of you.”

His body had weathered damage after after. It bore scars of worse and better times and Jon could barely stand to look at it some days. See the way they curved around him, more gentle than any hand had in a while. It disgusted him.

“Maybe.”

“You’re allowed to disagree with me, Jon. This is an open space. You can share how you feel with no repercussions.”

“It isn’t quite an open space when you don’t know anything about me.”

Martin would be so disappointed in him. But Martin wasn’t here.

“Did I say something to upset you?”

Jon groaned in frustration. His hand ground into his thumb, in dizzyingly strong patterns.

“You didn’t say anything to frustrate me. I just- I need to have something and I can’t get it back.”

“That makes sense, Jon. I understand your reaction.”

He nodded, curtly. A small jolt of the head. Barely passing for an acknowledgement.

“What is it that you can’t have?”

Sasha. Tim. Martin.

“Sleep. No chronic pain. A good cup of tea.”

“Would that make you feel better?”

It was that question that played and replayed through his head. He walked to the tube, tossing it around in his head like one of those tennis balls that Tim always had. The effectiveness of this therapy couldn’t be discerned so soon, as Georgie was quick to remind him. But this was the first time something could be accused of sticking.

The tube was packed. That’s why he got off early. Sensory issues had been playing up all day, he had felt it from the moment he woke up. Walking was clearly the best option, here. And if he stopped for a couple of minutes to catch his breath, who would blame him? His cane could immediately clear up any suspicion around that. The house in front of him hadn’t had people in it for 6 months and 11 days exactly. No one would even notice how scheduled these rest breaks had become.

She was right. A good night’s sleep and some paracetamol wouldn’t make him feel better.

Getting them back, however, would.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin k blackwood #tim stoker #sasha james #georgie barker #tma fic #tma angst #jonathan sims has a cane #jonathan sims has chronic pain #tw grief #tw mental illness #what if this man went to therapy #what if it made him worse

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senditcolton · 1 year

Text

we’re a bad idea

Mat Martin was a bad idea. That didn’t stop you from wanting him.

moodboard | playlist | word count: 5.6k

a/n: welp, here i am, back to posting things later than promised and not knowing what a blurb is. but like i said when i first posted about this concept: i was in a mood, okay!? i also realized this is the first time i’ve written smut in four months and... damn i missed it!

warnings: feminine reader, teammates sister, age gap. mean dom!Marty. smut! semi-public fingering. teasing, dirty talk, brat taming. slight age-play dynamics. plus degradation, choking, and size kink if you squint.

Disclaimer: Reading/creating content for married players isn’t for everyone. Please don’t read if you don’t vibe with it, but don’t attack me or others!

Being the sister of a hockey player comes with its pros and cons.

Pros: free hockey games, an automatic invite to nights out, and an immediate family outside of your immediate family. Con: Matt Martin.

Okay, Matt Martin wasn’t exactly a con. But your gigantic, massive crush on him had been a burden since Scotty introduced you. He was hot – there was no denying that. And you weren’t exactly subtle about your feelings.

Matt knew you had a crush on him. And he teased you for it – relentlessly. Part of you thought that he liked pushing your buttons, seeing you flustered. It was easy to make you falter. Or… it used to be.

You had returned to New York after finishing up university and you definitely grew up while you were away. You gained confidence, learned how to flirt, learned how to banter, and most importantly, gained a lot more experience in the… relationship department than you had before.

Now, tonight, you were armed with your best fitting jeans and your sleekest shirt as you accompanied Scotty to the bar where some of his teammates were waiting. You were excited to see a lot of the boys again, excited to hear about their lives and tell them about yours. You were also excited to show them the new you. The bolder, bouncier, cooler you.

And when you approach the table, you can’t stop the smile that forms when you hear the guys cheer at seeing you again. You greet each of them, laughing when Barzy scoops you up into a spinning hug, pressing a quick kiss to Grace’s cheek, before you depart to order your drink, promising them that you’ll be back soon.

You waltz up to the bar and grab the bartender’s attention, placing your order before leaning against the wood, eyes darting around the space. It felt good to be back in New York, that much was true. You couldn’t stop yourself from closing your eyes and pausing to soak in this moment: sure, the bar was a little cramped, the music was maybe a smidge too loud. But this was life. This was energy. This was excitement.

Tonight was going to be one to remember.

It is when that thought passes through your mind do you feel a large, yet surprisingly delicate touch on your shoulder. It was a touch you were familiar with; a man trying to get your attention but not wanting to be too aggressive. The next thing that will come is a request to buy you a drink.

“You’re too pretty to be drinking alone.” The voice comes and your eyes snap open at the timbre, so recognizable and so intoxicating. Matt Martin circles around you, his sentence continuing. “Could I buy you a dr-”

That’s where his words end. Because that’s when his eyes connect to your face and you watch the recognition flash across his features. You are almost frozen, looking up at him with wide eyes, caught a little – no completely – off guard that this was how you were seeing him again.

Your brain was also still wrestling the fact that Matt Martin was just hitting on you.

The two of you stand there silently for a moment, still trying to compose yourselves and recover from the… interesting introduction. You somehow manage to regain some semblance of control first, your expression relaxing as your lips twist into a small smile.

Matt notices your grin and he returns it generously.

“Wow,” he mutters, quiet enough that you would’ve missed it if you weren’t hanging on to every word. “Look at you. Little Mayfield is all grown up now.”

He says those words joking, casually, like a family friend should. But the way his eyes are raking up and down your body tells you that his thoughts are anything but family friendly. Eventually, he opens his arms and murmurs a gentle “c’mere kid”, his hands moving in a coaxing gesture. You don’t have to think twice before you’re collapsing into him, feeling him envelop you in a hug, inhaling the scent of his cologne, welcoming the warmth of his body.

You pull away and if you notice the way his hands may have lingered a little longer on your hips before falling, you don’t call him out on it. Instead, you decide to call him out on something else.

“You still offering to buy me a drink?” you quip, a devilish smirk appearing on your lips as you glance up at him, the grin widening as you see the miniscule furrow of his brows at your words. Your energy.

He had a lot of catching up to do.

“You didn’t order one already?”

“No,” you reply and of course, that’s the moment the bartender finally makes their way back to you, placing the glass and your card down on the bar top. There’s a small flash of embarrassment that runs through you as you see Matt raise a singular brow.

“Fine,” you say, quickly calculating the tip and signing the receipt before turning back to Matt, drink now in hand. “But that doesn’t mean that I would say no to another.”

“Two cocktails in under 10 minutes? What would Scotty think?”

“I could probably drink him under a table now,” you scoff, your eyes rolling playfully as you poke fun at your brother. Which was easy to do when he wasn’t in earshot. “University changed a lot for me.”

“I can see that.”

His eyes are still on you, still scanning over your body and you can’t help but cock your head to the side, calling his attention to your face. You don’t say anything, just another small tilt and teasing look, one that Matt reads well enough.

“Well,” you say, taking a sip of your drink before angling your body away from the bar. “If you do decide to bring another gin and tonic to our table, I wouldn’t complain. Entirely up to you.”

That’s all you say before departing, not bothering to look back towards Matt. Mostly because you can still feel the heat of his gaze on you retreating frame. You make your way back to the table, slipping into the crowded corner booth, listening to the conversations around you, trying to slot yourself into one. You eventually start talking to Sebastian, your brother’s defensive partner, and it isn’t long until Matt comes back to the table, a beer in one hand and a glass in the other. He slides into the booth next to you, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off his body before he’s sliding the glass towards you. You pause your conversation to send him a small thank you before returning to Sebastian.

You aren’t so completely absorbed in the talk with Seb that you don’t notice Matt swing his arm over the back of the booth, and in turn, over your frame.

The smile appears on your face without thinking, laughing to yourself at the fact that Matt seemed to want to remain close to you. As close a respectfully possible. So, you decide to give him what he wanted. And you don’t stop touching him.

You figure out how to do it in more casual ways; your leg pressed against his, a hand falling onto his knee when you laugh. Your boldest move is gripping his thigh in order to lift yourself up and lean across the table to look at the picture of Grace and Anders new baby. And if your angle also happened to give Matt a great view of your ass… so be it.

Eventually, the conversation loops around to focus on you and you catch them up on your life; schooling, major moments, exciting events.

“Any boyfriends that your brother has to scare away?” It’s Ryan Pulock that asks that question, a teasing and causal jab, said with a smirk and a drink of his beer. You respond similarly with a laugh and sip of your gin and tonic before responding.

“Not at all.”

“That’s surprising,” Matt says. You turn towards him, hair flipping and your eyes connecting to his.

“Really? How so?” you question, a teasing tone attached to your words. Matt doesn’t take the bit, shrugging and taking a drink of his own beer.

“Just seems like the kind of thing you’d experience in college.”

“Well, I did experience,” the last words lightly emphasized to imply the actual meaning. “None of them seemed to stick. Although,” you say, laughing and turning back towards the rest of the group, “if you met some of the boys I went to my school, you’d understand.”

“Oh, I totally get that,” Cassie says. “College boys are terrible.”

“So true,” you laugh, causing a few titters to go up around the table, plus a little nudge towards Anders who – as one of the few former college boys – looked to be a little offended.

“So, if boys didn’t stick,” Cassie continues, “did any other experiences stick?”

“I learned how to play pool,” you reply with a shrug, the first new, non-academic development you came to your mind.

“Any good at it?” Barzy asks, a smirk on his face, one which you gladly return.

“I could probably take you Barzy,” you tease, a chorus of oohs going up around the table at your challenge.

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Well then, lead the way,” you laugh. Matt accepts your jab, scooching out of the booth and down the hallway leading to the bars pool tables, with you following quickly behind. The two of you manage to make it about half-way through your game before Marty and Palms appear.

“Me and Marty are gonna play a round after you,” Kyle explains, settling into the small high-top table off to the side.

“Want to make it a tournament? Winner against winner?” Mat asks, leaning over and taking his shot. Kyle and Matt agree, their competitive personalities taking the lead which in turn, sets off a competitive fire in you. Fueled by a desire to prove yourself to the boys. So, you really focus in on your shots. And if you happen to throw a few flirting words towards Barzy to trip him up… that was just strategy.

You end up winning, celebrating with a small victory dance as you and Barzy trade places with Matt and Kyle, the two of sit and chat while they play. Matt is focused on the game from what you can tell and a small part of you wants to think that Matt was trying to win so he could play against you. But maybe he was always this serious when it came to pool.

Matt does end up winning and you watch as he reracks, watch as Kyle drags Barzy off for ‘consolation drinks’, leaving you and Matt alone. It starts off innocent… well as innocent as the night had previously been. A few heated glances, a few lingering touches. But neither of you pushed the limits.

Until you decided that you had enough of this tiptoeing.

You wander around the table, examining the cues, mapping out your possibilities before glancing over your shoulder at Matt, casually leaning against the wall watching you.

“Hey Marty,” you call to him, voice light. “I’m don’t know what move to make. Could you help a girl out?”

“And why should I help you?”

“Because you’re always so nice to me,” you reply, shooting him a sweet smile.

Matt lets out a small sarcastic laugh but he does give into your request shortly after, pushing off the wall before wandering over to you. His hands are on your hips and he guides you to the correct side of the table before they move to your arms, his body leaning against you and practically draping over your frame as he helps you line up the shot. He tries to maintain a polite distance between your body and you resist the urge to push back against him. Once he’s placed you in the correct position, he lifts himself up to allow you to shoot. You line up are about to pull the trigger when he speaks again.

“Were the boys at school nice to you?”

The cue balls ricochet off each other as you fumble your shot. Not because of the words said but because of how they were said: that heavy seductive tone telling you exactly what he was implying. You don’t give an immediate reply, just a small huff of breath and a quick glare in his direction. He only shoots a smirk in your direction as you sulk back, leaving Matt to survey the pool table.

You can tell that he’s proud of himself, a little cocky now that he got you flustered for the first time tonight, forced you back into your old persona, the one that he knew well.

He shouldn’t have been so confident. Because while the old you might have let the embarrassment flood your system and turn you into even more of a mess, the new you fought back.

So, you wait, patiently, until Matt is the same position you were; shot lined up, pool cue aimed and drawn back before speaking again.

“They were very, very, nice,” you say in that same heavy seductive tone. And just like you expected, your words have the exact same effect on him, the aggressive clatter of his ruined shot echoing. The look he gives you is dangerous in all the right ways and so you push on.

“Sometimes,” you continue, raising yourself off the wall and wandering over to him, “they were a little too nice.” A pause as you come face to face with him, looking up at him with your best bedroom eyes. “If you know what I mean.”

If he does understand the implications behind your words, he doesn’t show it as he moves away from you to let you take your turn. The rest of the game continues without words although the tension between you has been raised. It almost becomes unbearable but you move ahead, focusing on your next move and the next after that. And to your complete and honest surprise, you end up winning, sinking the eight-ball in one smooth shot.

“Congratulations,” Matt says, walking towards you. “Figured out what you want as a prize?”

This time, the words are not tinged with any weight or tone that would suggest more. He asks you the question as casually as if he was asking you about the weather.

But you’ve been a part of this; a part of the teasing, a part of this cat-and-mouse game that you two had been caught in since the night started. And that remembrance gives you the answer.

“I want the truth,” you say, watching as one of Matt’s eyebrows twitches upward in question. “What were you really thinking when you first saw me tonight?”

You can see the confusion on his face when you put the question forward and the confusion flows into his voice as he starts to give you an answer.

“I thought that you looked a lot different than I remembered, grew up as I said and –”

“No,” you interrupt. “I mean, what were you thinking about me, before you knew it was me? Y’know – when you so brazenly walked up and offered to buy me a drink. What was going through your head then?”

This was a bad idea. Such a fucking bad idea. But you didn’t care. You wanted to know. No – you needed to know. Needed to know that you weren’t overreaching, that you weren’t reading too much into every word, every touch that had been exchanged.

You needed to know if Matt Martin wanted you… the same way you wanted him.

The silence that stretches between you is tighter than every before, a rubber band waiting to snap. You aren’t backing down. Matt isn’t budging, although from the way his jaw clenches, you feel as if he is biting back his words.

The truth.

As if he didn’t want to say it out loud. As if he knew that as soon as the truth was said, there was no controlling what would come next. So, you take the initiative again.

“If you want to continue this discussion somewhere a little more private, I’ll be waiting in the bathroom.” You start walking away, moving towards the private bathrooms near the far end of the bar, before turning back to him.

“Five minutes Marty. That’s your window to tell me the truth. That’s all you get. Five minutes.”

You leave him with the ultimatum, disappearing from his sight. You try to causally make your way to the bathrooms as to not draw attention to yourself. But as soon as you reach the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind you, the façade drops and a whoosh of breath escapes. Immediately, you rush over to the sink and splash some cold water on your neck in a feeble attempt to cool the blazing heat running through your body.

What the fuck where you thinking?

This was insane. You were insane. There was a line and you were sure that you had crossed it. Not only crossed it, you full on leapt over it. Made an embarrassment of yourself. You definitely couldn’t face Matt again after tonight. You’d have to leave New York, relocate to Los Angeles or even Europe just to put a full ocean between the two of you. There was no way that this night wasn’t completely ruined. You utterly fucked up, to the umpteenth degree; you fuc-

A knock on the door interrupts your racing thoughts, your head swiveling in the direction of the noise. In a rush, you remove your phone from your back pocket, realizing that you had been freaking out for almost five minutes. The allotted time you gave Matt. That meant that the person on the other side of the door could be another patron.

That’s what you believe until the second knock comes. This time accompanied by the husky tone of Matt Martin saying your name.

Your heartbeat upticks as you walk across the tile, the journey there feeling like it stretched for miles instead of a few short steps. The metal of the handle is cold against your skin as your hand reaches up towards the lock, the anxiety of whatever was to come vibrating through you.

The echo of the deadbolt unlocking hasn’t dissipated as Matt pushes into the room, slightly knocking you back before he spins and clicks the lock home again. You barely manage to get a single syllable out before Matt is turning towards you, his large hands cupping your face.

And then he is kissing you. Fiercely. Passionately. He’s. Kissing. You.

The action catches you so off-guard that you can’t stop the gasp that falls from your lips and Matt takes advantage, deepening the kiss as his large body presses you further into the room until you feel the back of your thighs hit the cold stone of the counter.

It takes you this long to fully register what is happening, for you mind to wrap around the turn of events, a situation that seconds ago you thought would remain in your wildest fantasies. But when you finally grasp that this is real, it is happening… your inhibitions disappear.

Your hands scramble against his body, gripping onto his shoulders, lifting into his hair, attempting to pull him closer, to pour as much passion into the kiss as he is. One hand falls to the counter as you try to hoist yourself up on to the marble to lessen the height advantage he has on you. It’s a desperate attempt, one that you blindly fail at. That is, until you feel Matt’s hands sink down and grip the back of your thighs.

Another gasp escapes you as he lifts you up onto the surface and your knees easily part to accommodate the size of his body between your legs as he leans his weight forward, pressing you back until you feel the cold mirror against your scalp.

Matt eventually removes his lips from yours but they don’t travel far. Instead, they press against your jawline, down your neck. It’s when they are pressed against your collarbones does he finally speak.

“You want to know what I thought about when I first saw you?” he asks and you have to force yourself to focus on his words instead of the way his body feels pressed against yours.

“I thought about how fucking gorgeous you looked. And I knew I wanted to take you home and see if you looked just as pretty underneath me,” he confesses, his mouth finally departing from your skin as he lifts himself up to lock eyes with you before continuing. “And then, when I realized it was you, the baby sister of my teammate? I felt fucking filthy for thinking those things.”

His hands trail downwards as his words fall, cascading over your ribs, the small of your back, your hips until they manage to slip into your back pockets, his fingers tightening around your ass, giving it a firm squeeze as he pulls you closer, your hands flying to his shoulders to keep your body upright.

“But that shy, sweet, innocent girl that I knew… she’s gone. Isn’t she? Instead, what I got was a fucking minx, who doesn’t know when to stop pressing her luck.”

His words spark that challenging fire in you and you somehow manage to regain your voice through the haze of his hands on you.

“You love it though,” comes your sharp retort, the grin playing on your face as your eyes spark with defiance. Matt mirrors your smirk, although you can tell that his is more casual, natural, like he’s been in this place before. His next words confirm that assumption.

“I do. I like brats like you,” he says and you barely catch the hardening of his gaze before he is manhandling you off the countertop, spinning your body abruptly, the front of your thighs hitting the hard edge as your hands fly forward to stop your momentum. His body presses against you and the whimper that leaves you is in direct response to the feeling of all of him against your back. He leans in, his breath ruffling your hair as he whispers hotly in your ear.

“I especially like putting them in their place.”

Your whimpers turn into a full-on moan as he rolls his hips against you and you can feel the hardness of him against your backside.

“What was that sweetheart?” he murmurs, his hips still moving as he hands starts to wander once again. “No more smart remarks for me?”

The only sound you can manage is more whines as you feel a hand sneak under the hem of your shirt, a shiver as his fingers climb their way up your torso before he takes one of your breasts in his grasp, squeezing, while his other hands remains on the edge of your jeans, running teasingly over the delicate skin of your hipbone.

“What happened baby? You were so confident before.”

“Fuck you,” you manage to breath out. The words were hollow, with no real malice behind them. They were just spoken in hopes of regaining some power. Or, at the very least, to ground yourself and keep your bearings on this battle that you were swiftly losing.

Matt sees through the remark with ease, his immediate response a dark chuckle before he speaks again.

“I’d much rather fuck you.”

You don’t have time to wrap your head around those words before the hand that was on your hip flies up to rest on your neck, fingers pushing your jaw upwards to angle your face back towards Matt so he can once again crash his lips to yours. He kisses you fiercely and you whimper as you feel the hand underneath your shirt start to sink lower and lower until it hits the waistline of your jeans, moving to deftly undo the button with a practiced ease. His hand dips underneath the fabric and you widen your stance without thinking to give him more access, causing him to chuckle against you.

Another gasp falls when his hand slips in between your thighs, cupping your still covered center. A groan rumbles from his chest as his fingers press against your slit, feeling how the dampness of your arousal has already flooded the soft cotton of your underwear.

“Fuck sweetheart,” he curses, lips and hand pulling away from your face and your head falls forward to its original position as he continues its movements against your core. “Ruined these already, hmm? Been dripping for hours?” The only response you give is another whimper as you roll your hips forward, chasing his fingers, a silent request for more which he doesn’t give.

“Come on kid, use your big girl words,” he mutters before moving his fingers the short distance upwards to press against your clit.

“Fuck,” you cry out at the feeling, the tension from the entire night culminating, heightening every move Matt makes against your body, every word he speaks. You hear him chuckle and it sends a hot wave of shame through your body, a sensation you weren’t familiar with but one that you were surprised worked so well in combination with your need.

“Not exactly what I meant.”

“Matt…” The word is elongated as the whimper of his name escapes you, another desperate attempt for mercy, for him to give you want you wanted. He doesn’t give in, his will apparently much stronger than yours. His fingers just lazily return to stroke your slit, winding you up more. It’s the steadily building desire with no payoff that finally makes you snap. “Godammit, Matt, stop fucking teasing me.”

As soon as those words are spoken, his fingers glide underneath the fabric of your panties before plunging into your center. You moan at the sudden intrusion, that full body rush of heat moving through you at the feeling of him inside you. It’s a split second before he moves, his fingers gently starting to pump into you, reaching deeper, the calloused skin of the heel of his palm catching against your clit. The cant of your hips forward is involuntary as you chase the feeling, a hiss escaping him as your movements push the sharp corner of the counter into the tan skin of his forearm, a momentary lapse in his control before he regains it.

“That desperate for me, huh?” he teases you, aiding your motions and pressing his hand against you. “This what you wanted sweetheart?”

“Want your cock more,” you manage to moan, this time your hips moving backwards to press your ass against his groin to punctuate your words.

“Oh yeah? Just want to feel my dick deep inside this perfect cunt?” You whine in response as you grind against Matt’s hand, wanting more, your blatant desire causing Matt to chuckle again. “Well, darling, you can have it. All you got to do is say please.”

The gasp escapes you as your eyes fly up to connect with Matt’s gaze in the mirror, the sound not only a response to his fingers managing to graze that one spot inside of you that made you see stars, but to his demand.

He wanted you to beg for it. To plead with him to give you want you wanted. To submit.

That’s one thing that you refused to do. You had spent all those years away building up your confidence and control that you weren’t about to relinquish it that easy. But then Matt moves again and you can’t stop your head from falling forward, another moan reverberating against the walls of the restroom.

“Come on babygirl. Let me hear you say it.”

It’s torture. It is utter torture, the feeling of his fingers moving within you, so good but not enough, not what you really wanted to the sense of relief you were chasing. The relief that would only come if you relinquished the last sliver of control you had.

“Please…”

The word is practically wrenched from you, like you had to grab it and drag it from your throat and past your lips. You feel Matt lean in, his body coming to drape over yours once more, his lips finding the familiar spot behind your ear.

“No.”

The word that came from him was the exact opposite of what you were expecting and the force of which your head snaps up to connect with Matt’s reflection is sharp and sudden. The bewildered desperate look in your eyes is a stark contrast to the calm and collected look in Matt’s.

“I don’t think you’ve earned it yet. In fact, I don’t know if you’ve even earned the right to cum.”

That suggestion is what does you in. The thought of all of this being for nothing? For you to be pushed this close to edge and not achieve a release of this surmounting pressure? You couldn’t handle that. The mere implication sends any last ounce of dignity you thought you had flying out the window.

“No. Please, please Matt. I need it. Please,” you unabashedly beg, words now falling freely.

“Well… since you asked so nicely.”

Matt moves again, his ministrations increasing as he drags you closer and closer to that edge. You can no longer bite back the moans that he pulls from your chest and you don’t try to stop them, too overwhelmed with pleasure to even keep your eyes open. You are so caught up in the feeling of Matt’s hand between your thighs that you don’t bother keeping track of the unoccupied one until it’s coming to wrap around your throat, pulling you upwards until your body is once again fully pressed against him.

The heat of him against your already scorching skin is almost unbearable and when Matt’s fingers guide your head to look forward into the mirror, you know he can feel your pulse jumping underneath his grasp.

“Open your eyes,” he whispers, the complete control he wielded giving you no option but to obey as your eyelids fly open and immediately connect to the reflection of you and Matt in the mirror. You were an absolute mess: pupils blown, hair mussed, chest heaving. But you couldn’t even bother focusing on your appearance. All you can do is let your gaze trail down to Matt’s arm, seeing where it disappeared underneath the denim of your jeans. Watching how the muscles flexed as his fingers reached deeper, curling to constantly graze that damnable spot that made full body shudders run through you.

“Look how fucking perfect you look,” Matt groans into your hair, his movements never ceasing. “Come on sweetheart. Show me how pretty you look when you cum.”

His gentle demand is what sends you over the edge, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train, mouth opening into a near silent scream. One of your hands flies to his forearm, nails digging into his skin in a vice like grip while the other tightens around the solid marble edge of the countertop – a feeble attempt to steady yourself. You were certain that if Matt’s arms weren’t tight around you, you would have collapsed to the floor.

The vibration of Matt moaning at the feeling of your pussy clamping down on him adds another delectable sensation against your body. You do not fight it when Matt’s grip on your jaw angles your head back so he can capture your lips in a feverish kiss, swallowing every moan and whimper you give as your high fades.

His fingers slowly, painstakingly withdraw from you before he breaks the kiss, his hand moving against your oversensitive core to push your underwear back in place before attempting to wipe off his finger on the cotton. It’s a completely lost cause based on how soaked you are, another laugh escaping Matt as his hand finally retreats from the confines of your jeans. He buttons them back up, pressing a soft kiss against your shoulder before moving away from you.

A panicked part of you thinks that he’s going to leave you here, alone in a bar bathroom as you fight to regain composure. But instead, he just moves to the sink next to you, turning on the tap to wash his hands. The half-hearted huff of laughter escapes you but you can barely dwell on it, instead focusing on taking deep breaths in order to recover.

Eventually, you lift your body up and examine your disheveled appearance. It takes another beat before you start to piece yourself back together: smoothing your hair down, readjusting your clothes, wiping away any errant makeup from your skin. It is when you are taking a drink of water to soothe your parched throat does Matt reappear behind you.

“I was right,” he says. “You do look just as pretty underneath me,” he explains, recalling his confession to you at the very beginning of this bathroom rendezvous. You roll your eyes at his cocky words, your previous confidence returning as you spin to face him.

“I look even prettier on my knees,” you quip, falling back into that teasing energy that led the two of you here. A laugh rumbles through Matt as he takes your chirp in stride.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Well then, I guess you’ll just have to take me home to find out.”

“What about your brother?” Matt asks, reminding you where you were and who you accompanied to this bar. Your non-committal hum is your only response as your eyes trail lazily towards the bathroom door before returning to Matt.

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

#nicole writes #.....oops #matt martin fic #matt martin imagine #matt martin smut #new york islanders fic #new york islanders imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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rustic-space-fiddle · 4 months

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Why do you want to fight BEN from treasure planet?

Oh boy. LEMME JUST RANT A LIL’—

He’s just rather… abrasive? Granted, Ben in the original Treasure Island was also loud and obnoxious, but I think the difference between them is the tone they both brought to their respective stories. Ben from Treasure Island was funny in that he said outlandish phrases and kept trying to touch people (which I admit I LOVE that they kept about B.E.N.), but his character wasn’t ever explicitly used for comic relief. He was more tragic that comedic, even to the very end of his story. Jim at the end of the book tells that he spent all his money at once and was homeless again in just a few weeks. It’s funny-ish, because you’d think he’d be a bit smarter with his money after being marooned for 3 years, but mostly it’s tragic because he’s still wandering and poor with no one, even though all that treasure was rightfully his.

B.E.N. on the other hand is blatantly used for comic relief, which I really don’t think was necessary. It’s not like the story was exceptionally dark up till then. Captain Amelia’s dry wit, Doppler’s bumbling earnestness, Jim’s teenage sass, Silver’s crude pirate-y commentary, and even Morphy are all plenty of fun! They seamlessly inject comedy into the story without taking you out of it. But when B.E.N. is funny, it’s just “WOOO HE’S CRAAAAAAZYYYYYY” comedy. Granted, a lot of his one-liners are really funny! I quote him often, even though I don’t care for him very much. Nevertheless, some lines just feel out of place in the story, and he acts so much like a person that you wonder why he’s even a robot (he’s robot to explain why he’s still around after 100 years [yes, I get that he’s programmed extremely well. But still!]). For example: “WAS I EVER DANCING WITH A DROID NAMED LUPÉ?!” just SCREAMED out in the middle of the moment when it feels like our heroes are losing. Silver has gone full dark side, showing no mercy; Doppler and Amelia are tied up, apparently hopeless, and Jim is being used as a human GPS, being lead for all the world like a dancing bear (geddit?). If B.E.N. was gonna shout something, it didn’t have to be so uselessly funny. Just him shouting would be inappropriate enough in that moment. But nope, because he’s voiced by Martin Short, Mr. Comedy Man, B.E.N. has to be 80% idiot, 20% accidentally useful. The more accidentally useful a character is, the closer to Jar Jar Binks they are. And I cannot stand Jar Jar Binks.

OPPOSITION: He’s just that stupid because his brain is gone! He’s smart at the end of the movie! — Yes… but he’s still obnoxious. He’s a little better, but talks just a little too long. His “I know you don’t like hugging, but get ready cuz I’m gonna hug ya—“ THAT was actually humorous and kinda sweet. Then when Jim hugs him back, it’s wholesome! But then they have B.E.N. go on to cry (badly) and ask for a tissue—AS JIM IS REALIZING SILVER IS LEAVING. Maybe I’m an idiot, but I thought that exchange was funny and wholesome and I wish B.E.N. had been reeled back a bit in his surprised reaction to getting a hug back. His surprise is warranted, but dang.

That’s all just a very long way of saying that I wish he’d been played a little quieter (still loud, but quieter), and that he’d been more purposefully helpful. Ben from Treasure Island was like a geode. He was crusty on the outside, but showed himself to be actually quite clever (though not financially savvy) and basically secured the treasure all by himself. He just needed a ship and a crew. B.E.N. from Treasure Planet was like a Wish.com quartz crystal. A rather useless fellow dressed up in a shiny comedy crust. “I have to pee!” (A thing robots can’t even do?) —BOOM! Hiding place! “I like this fresh air door I have!” —BOOM! Gateway to the center of the planet. The only time I really like that dynamic is when he’s lamenting that he can’t remember something super important (the booby traps), and then immediately after Jim reinstalls his brain, he’s like “HOLY FRICK THE BOOBY TRAPS—“.

Again, this is all just my opinion! I don’t fully hate him, and he is funny, but I think they over exaggerated him in an attempt to appeal to kids and they just didn’t need to do that! If they’d dialed him back just a tad, I think it would’ve made that last part of the movie feel less like a tonal rollercoaster. What do y’all think?

#Rusty rants #treasure planet #don’t roast me! I just don’t like the way his character YANKS you into ‘LAUGH NOW’ mode. eghh #anyway #YEE

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bloodanna · 4 months

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My mind is eating itself with the Magnus brain rot again, so have some random thoughts on the first two Magnus Protocol episodes:

• I love Alice and Sam *so* much. Insert 'I've had them for a day' meme here.

• I wonder how long Alice has worked for the OIAR (the fact that looks so much like 'liar' is interesting/weirding me out). Did she always not care or is that learned behavior?

• "I've seen people go weird." Who? When? I'm really worried it's going to be Colin next. He is giving me flashbacks to that one statement from TMA about the security guard that ended up as the equipment...

• Speaking of equipment... those computer voice sure were familiar...

• Don't get me wrong: I love it. It just concerns me. XD

• I do wonder if it is a case where it *is* our Jon and Martin or just *a* Jon and Martin. Or something else entirely. (The first case concerns me on this part: "Arthur? Is that you?" "Some of him.") Maybe it's just their voices stripped from all the tapes of TMA... idk. It is nice to hear them again though.

• I had almost forgotten how much I love hearing those two voices and the writing of TMA. The writing of the cases is *so* good. It makes me want to eat the words.

• That moment in the second episode case where she mentions the scrapping of bone and you suddenly, horrifyingly realize she isn't just talking about "fixing" the painting anymore... 💋🤌

• There is a weird moment in the second case of the first episode though... where the message is posted about "Canaries don't belong underground" and it is immediately replied to by the user 'UndergroundFlowers' and that was so jarring to me. I legitimately can't tell if it is meant to be jarring and something to take notice of or just a weird coincidence.

• Speaking of weird patterns: the case categories. Both the Magnus Institute forum thread and the Ink5ouls story is categorized as "transformation [subtype]" when I would have categorized it as, like, 'mutilation' or 'removal' or something. And I can't tell if that is a quirk of the filing system or of Sam which is interesting.

Idk. I have so many meanderings thoughts and I just want more show. XD

#the magnus protocol #Tmagp #tmagp spoilers #tmagp speculation #Podcasts

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gu1lty-as-sin · 6 months

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omg to anyone who wanted to read the folklore trio fic i started for english class here it iss

It all started with Betty.

James doesn’t remember when Betty turned from a face in the halls to someone that consumed all his waking thoughts. The one thing he does remember is that day in the cafeteria during sophomore year when he saw a girl with gleaming saffron hair and a smile that could not be dimmed by the sickly green lighting or dreary walls of the school. Seeing her sparked something in James that he had not felt since his mother walked out two years ago, and he was immediately addicted to it. Betty was the sun, beaming her untouchable joy through the forlorn clouds of high school. The mere thought of her became addictive – she was all-consuming, taking up all of James’ brain.

But he knew Betty never noticed him. Who even was James Martin?

By the time Christmas break of sophomore year rolled around, Betty had exchanged four conversations, twelve smiles and twenty-one glances in the halls with James. He didn’t need to write those numbers down. They were as ingrained in his head as the lyrics to his favourite song. James spent the break with his family, unwrapping books, and video games. After Christmas day, his father led him into a shed where a shiny new bike sat, gleaming in comparison to the rust that was taking over the unused space. It was a nice gift, but James knew that the bike was only because they couldn’t afford to buy him a car and his older brother was too busy with his job to drive him everywhere. James didn’t mind. He liked the bike and was grateful for his father for thinking of him.

James rode his new bike all through the rest of the vacation, even through the cold snap and drifty snow that breezed through his small town in Tennessee. He couldn’t think of anything else to do; football training didn’t start until the summer. On the second last day of the break as he was rolling his bike out of the shed, he saw a girl leaving the house next to his. A rush of heat flooded through him as he realised it was her, the girl that would not leave his mind alone.

“James! Hi!” Betty called out, noticing him and waving.

James waved pathetically; his voice suddenly gone. He had never known that Betty lived right next to him, so close. It made no sense – but also made perfect sense. But could she have felt the waves of emotion radiating from him every night? Did she know that he thought of her so often, it felt like he knew her so well already?

He tilted his head down and got on his bike, hoping to limit his conversations with Betty because he knew he was going to embarrass himself in front of her. But Betty had a different idea.

“Hey wait up!” She walked down her front path, meeting him at the road. “Where are you going?”

“Uh, just, around, I guess?”

“Cool.” She smiled at him, her cheeks tinted pink by the cold. Betty’s small frame was covered in a large coat, her hands in chunky knitted mittens.

“I’m gonna— “James started, but Betty interrupted him.

“I was planning to get some coffee. You wanna come?” This shocked James so much he didn’t respond for far too long, leaving Betty standing there, her perfect face hopeful.

After the silence, James remembered how to talk. “Yeah, sure.” He didn’t have the heart to tell her that he didn’t really like coffee, but her presence was so hypnotising James had a feeling he would have said yes to anything she asked him.

“Great! Let’s go.”

James rolled his bike alongside Betty on the walk to the centre of town. It didn’t take long, but in the time that they did have Betty asked him about his Christmas and described her trip to Nashville to see her grandparents. Every time her clear blue eyes landed on his he felt a tug in his chest, reminding him of how much he’d thought of her over the break. How obsessively he loved the idea of her, and the idea of her and him together. In that moment with Betty in the cold, James had the strange feeling that this would not be the last time.

Betty sipped her caramel latte, glancing over at James. They were sitting on a frozen bench near Starbucks, James’ bike on the ground beside them.

“So…” Betty started, always the one to start conversations.

“What else did you do?” James cut in, desperate to keep talking to Betty. He didn’t want her to get bored of him.

She went on to tell him a funny anecdote about her older brother. James listened, enchanted by her. When Betty asked about his, he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t mention that his grandmother left halfway through Christmas dinner because she couldn’t remember why she was there. He didn’t mention that his mother still didn’t reply to his letters that he had been sending since last June, every six months. He didn’t even mention that his father couldn’t afford a car for him, so he got a bike.

“Yeah, it was cool. Nice to see family.” James said instead.

A few days later, James was back at school. James walked through the hallways, his friend Max snickering at all the guys in their new cars. James nodded in the right places, but he couldn’t help glancing around the halls, longing to see a blonde head. Betty had waved to him that morning from her porch, and he couldn’t think of why he hadn’t seen her there before.

“James!” Betty called out to him after the last bell had rung and James was walking out of the building towards his bike. She ran after him, her face shining despite the overhanging clouds.

“Hey!” James said, surprised. “What’s up?”

“Do you want a ride home?”

James realised that she noticed his lack of car, his bike leaning against the school fence.

“I uh…” James trailed off, unsure of what to say. His emotions fought a battle inside of him, his desire to talk more with Betty going up against his deep-rooted pride. If he accepts, he will have lost. He was 16. He should’ve been able to take care of himself.

“It’s alright if you’re busy.” Betty noticed his silence, and while her smile never wavered, her voice dropped a bit. Guilt rolled through James.

He politely declined her invite.

One month later, and Betty kept offering to drive him to and from school. It took two weeks for James to accept, and soon Betty started hanging out at his house. Always in the living room – God forbid he bring a girl into his bedroom. It was like all the tension in the room evaporated the moment Betty walked in. James was comfortable with her, and it wasn’t hard for him to push his feelings aside. Betty seemed to like hanging out with him. It was a miracle.

“Are you bringing anyone to homecoming?” Betty asked one afternoon while James was doing his Physics homework. James straightened his spine. He was trying to avoid the idea of homecoming, for he feared that he would accidently ask her out.

“I mean…I wasn’t planning on it.” James said carefully, looking over at her. She was spread out on the couch, her hair up in a bun and long sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Betty didn’t seem to be embarrassed around him. She was just perfectly at ease with him. James couldn’t remember the last time that someone had just always wanted to be near him.

“Would you…” Betty trailed off, her eyes wandering to meet his. “Would you want to go with me?”

It was as if time stopped. This is exactly what James had been wanting to hear for the past year, probably more. Betty’s face was a picture of hope, her eyes wide and smile unsure. Paused in a moment of being so sure of wanting, James’ voice was stuck in his throat. Breath caught in his lungs like smoke, choking him from the inside and not allowing him to say anything.

“Betty…” He said, his voice shaking and quiet. Betty’s eyebrows turned upwards, her face dropping slightly.

“It’s ok if you don’t want to.” She said, clasping her hands and shrinking her figure.

“No! It’s not that.” James said. He moved from the floor and sat next to her on the couch, clasping her hands in his. They were small and warm.

“Yeah?” Betty said, the corners of her mouth upturning slightly.

“I would be honoured to go to homecoming with you.”

#guys this is so cringe #also disclaimer: i am not well versed in american #idk when football training starts #just go along with it ok lmao #juno.txt #juno writes #<- def not going to be a thing but if it is might as well make a tag lmaoo

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augdawg888 · 20 days

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the office characters as teachers!

in honor of teacher appreciation week!

(and also my math teacher was flirting with some other teacher and my brain immediately went to jim and pam)

enjoy!

the staff:

michael scott: the principal

dwight schrute: gym teacher & vice principal

jim halpert: also a gym teacher

pam beesley: art teacher

holly flax: counselor

oscar martinez: personal finance teacher

angela martin: math teacher

phyllis lapin-vance: language teacher

kelly kapoor: fashion / interior design teacher

andy bernard: music teacher

& creed bratton: janitor

(other characters are mentioned, but i didn't have enough to say about them)

general headcanons:

michael scott: mr. scott

super laid back and chill

he never gets people in trouble

'yk, when i was your age, i did that all the time'

stops in classes just to distract people

assemblies all the time !!!

theyre always super fun though, lots of games !!

he's always recognizing the teachers for their hard work

he has a lil bulletin board (that pam designed) for spotlight moments

hangs out in the art room with pam a lot

'pamcasso' 'pamanardo dibeesley'

his office is littered with toys, pictures of holly, and pictures with his kids

he also brings his kids to work every so often

when he visits the gymnasium he always tries to impress the students

dwight schrute: mr. schrute

takes being vice principal way too seriously

also takes being a gym teacher way too seriously

he and jim participate in all the games and activities

but dwight is always trying to one up some high schooler

loves dodgeball.

he tries to 1v1 jim in basketball (and he fails miserably)

he instructs a health course once a year and jim always has to cut it short

he's the best hype man though

feeling insecure in gym class ? dwight is def hyping you up

not like a quiet, off to the side pep talk, like whooping and yelling

'let's go !! you guys are doing fantastic'

he also gets to do a karate course during the school year

has an agriculture club after school

jim halpert: coach jim

chillest gym teacher ever

unlike dwight, he does the quiet off to the side pep talks

its all very appreciated and sweet

he's looking out for all of the students

and they all have a crush on him too (who wouldnt????)

he's always goofing around and trying to have fun

he's the basketball coach too !!!

always going to the art room for any reason

he needs pam to design some flyers for friday's game, or his pen ran out of ink (he uses a laptop)

he's always pranking dwight

the pictures of the pranks always get put in the yearbook too (it's like a special section)

pam beesley: ms. beesley / ms. pam

shes so sweet.

all of her lessons are really well thought out and passionate

she loves teaching about claude monet and impressionism

shes doing art with the kids too

michael is always taking her finished pieces to hang up somewhere

shes also a volleyball coach !!! so shes constantly going to the gymnasium to make sure theres enough equipment or to check on the players in gym class

shes really there to see jim (but thats besides the point)

she's apart of phyllis' book club (yes phyllis has a book club)

all of her students ask if she and jim are going to date/are dating

'you guys are aware i'm engaged right?'

anytime roy visits shes always stressed afterwards

jim brings her lunch !!!

holly flax: holly / mrs. flax

shes so sweet and understanding omg

when a student needs something to fidget with she just steals a toy from michaels office

has a yoga club after school (michael is always there)

her office is so cozy and lighthearted

shes one of those teachers with memes printed out on her wall

has lots of knicknacks

knows every students name

loves loves loves helping kids pick out their schedules for the next year

shes super close with all the teachers too

very inclusive !!! she has an assembly every month for different cultures and information about different heritages

has a lot of stuffed animals in her office

and every single one of them have been named

shes also apart of phyllis' book club !

oscar martinez: mr. martinez

he takes his job super seriously and is a little strict

but everyone still loves him and respects him a lot

no matter how strict he is, he cannot stop gossiping with all the students

'okay, but did you hear about jim and pam?'

his classroom is so boring though, super bland

gets a lot of kids coming to him

super comforting teacher !

always plays music in the background

its like fucking classical music though

also in the book club !

he and pam always have a lot of gay kids in their classes

they're both just prepared for people coming out to them

angela martin: ms. martin

super strict and serious

but has her fun moments

everyone knows her cats names

she has the lil baby poster hanging up in her classroom

theres literally nothing else in there

she noticed how some teachers left out bowls of candy, so she did the same thing, but with mints

advocated for class pets, but kept getting shut down

when asked her opinion about other teachers it's usually negative, but when it comes to dwight it's always slightly positive

phyllis lapin-vance: mrs. vance

gets called mrs. vance refrigeration a lot

doesnt talk too much

always asking for help with her computer

her lessons are short and sweet

has a candle burning during class

but it's like a grandma smell

everyone loves watching her and bob

they're so sweet together !!!

she runs a small book club with teachers and students after school

loves when they all choose mystery books to read

she tries to teach different books every year

her classroom is right next to angela's and that can lead to some unpleasantness

funky sweaters !!!

kelly kapoor: kelly

hates hates hates being called ms. kapoor

it's just kelly

most of her lessons are just rants, but theyre educational !!!

loves working with everyone in her class

asks if ryan ever mentions her

wears the clothes that students make

designs merch for the school

desperately wants the schools colors to change

'theyre just so old looking !'

always so energetic in the mornings

besties with the students ofc

wants to hear ALL THE TEA

also keeps everyone updated on jim and pam

her classroom is sooooo cool too

like pink everywhere, comfy seats, and hello kitty

she loves hello kitty and i will die on this hill

andy bernard: mr. bernard

he's like the perfect music teacher

he brings instruments into class that no one has even heard of

and plays them perfectly

all the music they sing are show tunes

they watch musicals in the class when it gets slow

talks about cornell a lot

the rants about here comes treble get so old after a while

'it's funny you guys mention that song, did you know when i was in college i performed that with my acapella group?'

yes he's really trying to get an acapella group started

when students are frustrated with something he uses the same techniques he learned in anger management to calm them down

when asked if he wanted to be the golf coach he turned it down immediately

he was too busy trying to make sailing club a thing

but, he is the theater club leader (idk what theyre called)

loves directing everyone

has to kick michael out a lot

he wears funny ties !!!

creed bratton: creed

omg hes so mysterious and cool and no one knows anything about him

but also we know everything ?

he knows all the kids names

celebrates their birthdays

know one knows how he knows their birthdays though

shows up simultaneously in every class

plays guitar in andys class

tries to crash a fashion show in kellys

he was just wearing sunglasses and a blazer

plays basketball in gym class

and then he tries to convince dwight he is in fact a student

and why does it almost work ?

everyone's pretty sure he lives in the school

the lunch ladies are always complaining about food going missing and then creed will talk about how much he likes that food

he sells fake weed to the students

and fake ids

pam is still looking for her laminating machine

has an mp3 player still (its 2024 creed, get a phone)

his music is BLARING

air guitar in the hallways

everyone loves how he dresses up during spirit week

i was thinking of doing more in depth ones about spirit weeks and assemblys, but that's a lot of work lol

lmk if you want those !!

also the timeline is really random. i wanted holly to be in here and her and michael to be married, but i didn't want jim and pam to be married yet, sorry about that !

#the office #teacher appreciation #headcanons #jim halpert #the office headcanons #nbc #pam beesley #kelly kapoor #michael scott #dwight schrute #omg gay people #book club #i love this show #creed bratton #the office as teachers

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