Lock, Stock, And Barrel

lock, stock, and barrel

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summary: your dog locks you out of your car. the locksmith who shows up to let her out? is kinda hot 

pairings: scott lang x reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: you have a big dumbass dog (but a cute dumbass) and your dad is your wingman (and if you dont have a dad im ur dad now have you taken your meds today? wanna go fishing?)

a/n: this is based off of a tiktok i found, which you can watch here (x) nobody requested this but i love scott so much. big love. 

A van pulls up to the house, and parks in front of the driveway. It’s repurposed, definitely, with the words “X-Con Security Consultants” lovingly (read: clumsily) painted (read: scrawled) onto the side. 

“That’s Hank Pym’s kid,” your father says to your mother, and she scoffs.

“No he’s not, he's the intern boy,” she argues, but you don’t care who’s son he is or if he’s interning. He’s beautiful. He has a wide smile on his face as he makes his way from his sketchy van with a bag of tools in hand.

“Scott!” Your father greets, leaving your mother to grumble amongst herself about the man’s origins.

“Hey! Morning, sir!” Scott calls back, and your father gives him a firm handshake. Your father doesn’t notice the pain in Scott’s eyes when he does this, but you do, and you like him immediately for it.

Your father leads the conversation as he guides him over to your car, you shamefully stand by the passenger side, treats and toys in hand. You come around to greet them both.

“—it’s good for extra cash since our expertise is locks and security,” Scott finishes, and your dad listens with intense curiosity.

“Tell Pym I said hi,” he says, before noticing you.

“Ah, Scott, here’s the culprit,” he says, leading him over to you.

“Technically, Delilah is the culprit, dad,” you complain, and he scoffs a little.

“Who locked her in there?” he says playfully, and you gasp.

“She did!” you say, laughing, and there are smiles all around.

“Hi,” you say, introducing yourself, and Scott holds out a hand for you.

“I’m Scott,” he says, and you notice his hands are firm and soft, “I’m here to save your dog. And also your car.”

You smirk, “Thank you.”

You notice he smiles a lot, which is not something you mind. He places a small work bag down on the ground near your driver’s side. He bends his neck at awkward angles to try and make out where your buttons are through your tinted windows.

“Tell him what happened,” your dad encourages, crossing his arms with an ‘I told you so’ look on his face, though it doesn’t apply to this situation.

“I put her in my car to take her on a ride, and I was walking around the other side to get in, and she hit the lock button,” you say sheepishly, staring at Delilah.

Your father laughs and shakes his head, telling you to call him if you needed anything, returning inside to catch the rest of the baseball game for a team he couldn’t care less about.

“It happens to the best of us. She’s really cute,” he says encouragingly, and you smile, because she’s not the only cute one in your general vicinity.

“Hi Delilah!” He coos, and she barks at him.

“Delilah, no,” your mother scolds, and she stares at you from the passenger seat with her tongue out.

“Well, I see how it is,” he mutters, and you laugh. He looks back at you when you do and you notice the light on his hair and how he squints just a little bit when he smiles. He turns back to your car, and works a car door wedge into the window of the driver’s side door. His focus is intense. 

“Where you guys headed?” He asks, budging the wedge in and turning a crank on the side.

“We were just going on a ride. I kinda wanted to take her to get Starbucks, but now I’m not sure she deserves it,” you say, crossing your arms, knowing full well Delilah would get her puppuccino anyway.

“Aw, of course she does,” he says, looking at her panting at him through the glass.

“Isn’t that right, Delilah?” He says. She pays no attention to him. But it’s okay. You’re paying enough attention for the both of you.

“She has beautiful eyes,” he muses, and you hum in agreement.

“You have really nice eyes too,” you compliment accidentally, and you can feel the heat on your face as you try to play it off.

“Thank you,” he says, and you note his smile in the reflection of your car window as he falters with the wedge and the crank.

“Can I get you something to drink?” you say, and he stops. 

“Uh, sure,” he says. He kneels down in your driveway to look for something in the small bag of tools he brought with him.

“I think we have coke? And orange juice probably, unless you want like, a water or something,” you say, and he accepts the water offer.

You turn to leave, but your mom is already halfway in the house.

“I can go get it,” your mom says, throwing you a smile over her shoulder. 

You’re stuck in an awkward silence for a few minutes as he wiggles and pushes and tinkers with wires through your window. He pulls out a malleable wire and shoves it through the window wedge. You watch him work, with precise hands and concentration plastered on his face. But soon enough, with persistence and skill, Scott unlocks your car from the inside, carefully removes the car door wedge, and subsequently frees your poor pooch from her automated prison. 

He opens the door, and Delilah moves to the driver’s side to smell Scott. She jumps out of the car and starts sniffing around him, her leash hanging limply on the ground.

You retrieve it and let Delilah do her thing.

“Thank you so much,” you say, as he crouches down to say hello to your pup.

“Ah, it’s no problem,” he says, and begins speaking to Delilah in a baby voice, “especially when I meet cute puppies like you, yes I do, yes I do!”

Delilah is loving the attention, and she smiles as he pets her behind the ears. You give her butt a few taps and go to speak to Scott again, but your mom returns from the kitchen.

“I cut up some fruit for you guys,” she informs, like you two were best friends having a sleepover. She balances two cold bottles of water, and, sure enough, a plate of fruit she stole from a platter sitting in your fridge.

“Mom,” you whine a little, and your dad follows soon after, in pursuit of the fruit.

“I’m alright, ma’am. Thank you though.”

Your mom yells your dad’s name in the direction of the front door, clearly not seeing him behind her. He steals a chunk of fruit off the platter and complains, “I’m right here, woman,”

“Oh,” she says, laughing in your direction, before she informs him Scott had gotten Delilah out.

“Someone had to,” he grumbles, and he runs back inside to grab his wallet. 

You watch as Scott stands and grabs his bag, smiling at Delilah and turning to return the stuff to his van. Delilah decides to follow him.

“Delilah, please,” you beg, and she stops pulling on her leash, sitting like a good girl. You watch as he puts some things in his truck, fiddling with something in there, before you realize you’re staring. 

You open your driver’s side door, letting Delilah hop in that way instead, and climb in after her, bumping her off your seat. You stare at her intently. She smiles back, none the wiser. 

“You, are going to be the death of me,” you assure her, and you're startled by a knock at your window. 

You expect Scott, but it’s your dad. You roll down your window. 

“I asked specifically for Scott,” he assures, and smiles at you.

“Dad,” you groan, head thumping your headrest. You sigh.

“Don’t be weird,” you plead, and he scoffs.

“When have I ever been weird?” He asks, followed by, “Don’t answer that.”

You absentmindedly pet Delilah.

“You want his number?” he asks, credit card in hand. You turn in your seat to look at Scott. He’s walking around to the other side of his van for something. 

“Not from you!” you muse, and that’s all your dad has to hear, grinning in triumph. 

“Dad!” you whisper harshly, “Don’t be weird!”

“I won’t!” he says, mocking your raspy whisper. 

You watch in your rear-view mirror as your dad goes up to Scott and hands him his credit card. Some words are exchanged, and then your mother goes up to him too. You decide you can’t watch anymore, and you hide your face in Delilah’s fur. 

“Delilah, what are we gonna do?” you say, and her ears perk up, because in her mind, you two are going to Starbucks for puppuccinos. 

“Not that, Delilah. Scott is so cute,” you inform her. She already knows, her eyes tell you, and you look back over at them. 

Scott is smiling at your car. He sees your face, and he waves, causing your parents to look over at you. You blush, and wave back at him. Your dad sends you a signal, but you don’t know what it means, and your mom’s exaggerated wink is overkill. 

You sigh and check your phone. No alerts, alarms, or notifications to take your mind off of the situation. 

You hear Scott’s truck start up, and he pulls away as easily as he pulled in, and that’s that. Just another candle in the wind, a cute guy you’d never see again. But apparently, your parents had other plans.

Pulling out of the Starbucks drive-thru, you pull into a parking spot to let Delilah enjoy her cup of whipped cream. You take a sip of your icy beverage, and you hear your phone ding. Checking your notifications, you realize it’s from an unknown number, and your heart jumps thinking who it could be.

Opening your phone, Delilah whines in anticipation for the whipped cream in the Starbucks cup in the holder. 

“Hang on, ‘Lilah,” you say and you open your phone to read the message.

did delilah get her puppuccino?

You smile at the text, and move to take a picture while you let Delilah go to town on her treat. Your phone chimes again and you hold the cup with one hand, skillfully checking your messages with the other. 

it’s scott by the way. didn’t know if you could tell.

You text back Delilah’s picture. You could tell it was Scott. 

“Delilah,” you say, “thank you so much for locking my door. You’re such a good girl,”

She knows. She decides to accept her payment in puppuccinos from now on.

More Posts from Pitaparka and Others

5 years ago

listen to the waves

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request: Okay can you make an imagine where your dating either two of the guys or one of the guys a kiara? And just how cute the relationship between you three would be

summary: john b. and kie take you to the beach with the rest of the pogues. tooth rotting fluff ensues 

pairings: john b. x reader x kie

word count: 1.2k

warnings: cuddle pile. that is all. 

a/n: this is super cute guys. big love. hope you enjoy it :)

The ocean had been shit all morning. Waves had only been breaking at knee length, and the winds had cleaned up but high tide was not looking good. 

Early in the morning the surfers had decided to go to the beach, and since they invited you, of course you’d tag along. It took almost no time for you to pack sandwiches into a cooler, accompanied by beer, water, and whatever salvageable snacks John B. had in his fridge. Of course, at your request, it was hardly hampering to stop at the twenty-four hour convenience store for melon cubes and grapes. 

“We’re not going for a picnic on the beach,” JJ complained in the back. He sat up against the boards that were blocking the door. 

“You like fruit too, JJ, shut up,” John B. defended. 

They waited in the cool blue morning before sunrise, the only sounds coming from John B.’s low playing stereo.

At the beach, you watched on from the old beach comforter you had packed in the back of John B.’s vintage van for trips like this. It was still cold and blue when you got there, but soon, yellows and oranges started to emerge from the horizon with the sun started to come up.

You didn’t mind watching them, boards curving and bodies contorting with the waves that they could catch, but mainly it was them lying around on their stomachs, waiting for one that they could ride out. When the sun came out, you put on sunscreen and laid out on the quilt. A few minutes on each side, flipping intermittently. You only look up when you hear the cooler open. 

“Hey,” John B. says, leaning over the cooler, dripping water everywhere. 

“Hey,” you reply, and watch him pull out a sandwich and tear into it like it’s the first thing he’s eaten in weeks.

“Wabes ‘re shit,” he comments, mouth full of ham and cheese and bread.

“I can see that,” you say, taking a look at the other three islanders sitting, waiting on their respective boards for anything salvageable.

“Didn’t you guys check the surf index before you decided to come out?” You ask, and John B. hands you a beer.

“Yeah.” he says, popping his own top off.

“You shouldn’t be drinking and surfing,” you chide, but you pop off the top and take a sip anyway.

“What ever did we do without you?” He speaks sarcastically. And lets his board fall into the sand. He takes the strap off his ankle and takes a seat next to you on the cooler. He leans down and rests his head on your head.

“Kie really wanted to surf today, so we thought if we came early there’d be enough waves, but apparently not.” He says, sandwich in one hand, beer in the other. The beach was almost empty, save for a few fishermen down one end.

You look up at him and plant a kiss to his salty forehead.

“How’s your knee?” you ask. He takes a look at it. It’s a lot more purple than it was before, but you can barely see any scrapes. That's what you get when you pick fights with kooks.

“It’s okay. The ocean will take care of it.”

You two watched silently as Kie caught her last wave in. 

“Morning,” you greet as she makes her way over, and she bends down to kiss you, playfully shoving John B.

He looks offended before she shoos him off the cooler to grab a water and the small bucket of grapes. 

When one came in, they all started coming in, and soon, JJ and Pope were also back with you, sand caked to the bottom of their feet, ocean water dripping from their hair, boards in hand, strapped in at the ankle.

Kie puts her board down next to you and sits on it, leaning her head up against your shoulder.

“You guys need sunscreen,” you comment, and Kie agrees.

“I’ve given up on sunscreen. It’s a plot by the government you know,” JJ says, and everyone gives him a weird look.

“Are you high?” Pope asks, and he sits down next to you, dripping salt water all over your dry bathing suit. You gasp a little, but he smiles and pops a piece of cubed fruit in his mouth and smiles again, so that it sticks in his cheek like a chipmunk. You poke it, and he starts chewing.

“No, I’m not even kidding. They’re making you buy something that you don’t even need! They just want you to spend money. Watch, I’m not even gonna burn,” JJ says, laying down on the blanket, soaking in the sun.

John B. comes over to you to steal melon from your tub. He leans down to grab some, but while he’s there he plants a kiss to your lips.

“Woah!” Pope cries, and JJ springs up.

“No Pogue on Pogue!” He cries playfully, fully aware of the relationship between you three.

“Actually,” he reconsiders, “I don’t mind if you and Kie kiss,” Pope clarifies, and JJ agrees. John B. wipes a sandy foot on Pope’s knee and he jerks it away. He goes to sit back down on the cooler.

“Shut the fuck up,” Kie says, rolling her eyes halfheartedly.

“But no macking on John B.,” JJ says defensively, going over to sit in John B.’s lap. John B. wraps his arms around JJ and JJ throws his arm over John B.’s shoulder.

“He’s mine,” he says, glaring at the two of you. 

“Damn, Pope never gets any love,” Pope says, and Kie pulls him off his board and pushes into your lap. You laugh and wrap your arms around his stomach. 

“It’s okay Pope, we still love you,” you say, and kiss his cheek. He wraps his arms around yours that are tight around his stomach, and you sit up against Kie. She wraps her arms around both of you and suddenly the other boys feel left out. JJ hops off of John B. quickly and sits in front of you all, letting Pope wrap his arms around him with no reluctance at all. 

“Sex train!” JJ yells and blush tints your face. You hear John B. get off the cooler and take his rightful place behind everyone, arms wrapping around both of his girls, his cold hands resting on your stomach. You can feel his breath on your shoulder when he leans his head up against Kie’s. 

“That means you’re the bottom, JJ,” John. B clarifies, and he takes a tiny shell from the sand and throws it back at him before settling back into Pope.

“Pope, give me a massage like a good husband,” JJ says, and Pope moves to squeeze JJ’s shoulders, hard, in a very rough manner.

“Of course, anything for my wife,” he says.

JJ arches his back away from Pope and contorts his face, before crying out in pain.

“That’s… you’d be a terrible massage artist,” JJ says, and you laugh into Popes ear. 

“You mean masseuse?” You clarify, and chuckles are heard from behind you. 

“Shut the fuck up, you knew what I meant,” JJ says, trying to get up, but you grab him by the hips and pressure him back down between Pope’s legs. He’s not really, mad, so it doesn’t take much pressure at all. Your hands hold him by his stomach, but you readjust them over Pope’s shoulders to grind out the knots in JJ’s. 

This is all sweet and nice, until someone yells, “CRAB!”

The five of you scramble up, wiping sand off of your bodies respectively and jumping around, trying to avoid the fake crab John B. was keeled over by, laughing his heart out as the tide came in.


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4 years ago

pls write more jj smut, the first one was so good :(

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ugh bby you got it. it’s what i’m working on right now ;)


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4 years ago

your frank imagine was so good!!

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you restore my faith in tumblr anon :) big love. for you, i will keep writing for our favorite boy


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4 years ago

lazy river

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request: hell yeah prompt list time! kissing john b in the rain for love and longing? love your content btw summary: it’s been a long time since you’ve been to a water park. jon b knows this, and wants to change that.

pairings: john b. x reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: super fluffy. real cute. might rot your teeth.

a/n: requests still open! i got an AP exam this week. i also have to finish a create task i’ve had weeks to work on and haven’t, so... wish me luck. big love! 

It’s just how you remember it as a child; all funnel cakes and water slides and screaming children and too hot pavement. Exactly where you want to be when summer's in full swing. 

Probably the best unofficial date you’ve ever been on.

You don’t know how much money John B. had to save up in order to get you there, but the topping on the cake was his ability to score a free bus ride to and from going with a small church group. You'd never known him to be religious, but it was an eventful ride for the two of you. John B. was playing the role of full blown Christian boy, and it was so hard to hide your smiles and giggles that everyone must've thought you were his even more Christian friend. K-love plagued the speakers, and you and John B. agreed some of it wasn't bad, but most of the kids were insufferably nice, to a point where it was almost disingenuous. Standing in line with them was a pain, but as soon as you were able to, you two booked it off to the umbrellas, searching desperately for two lounge chairs. Maybe even one at this point. Anything really, until you found a small bunch of chairs left secluded by a family whose child was not having a good time. It was a perfect spot right under the umbrella allowing you to spread your towels out and leave the cooler by the chair. John B. was fast to attack the food in there; sandwiches, chips, fruits, cheese. You name it and JJ had gotten (stolen) it from somewhere for you two. “You’re gonna get sick,” you commented, as he scarfed down a sandwich. The smell of sunscreen plagues the area. You rubbed some onto your face. John B. had miraculously thought of everything except spray on sunscreen, so you were forced to either buy some from the gift shop at a ridiculously inflated price, or use the lotion. “Sick shmick. Do you want to go on some rides?” He says, wiping his dirty hands down on his towel. The towel that was supposed to wipe down his wet body. You grimaced, but then he slipped his shirt off and shimmied off his flip flops. He was so well toned and tan already. You can’t imagine him wanting to get any tanner. “Yes I do, actually. Can you get my back first?” You say, and wonder if John B. actually forgot the spray on sunscreen or opted for the lotion instead for this reason. His hands were firm on your shoulders as he applied the sunscreen, rubbing the taut muscle there and going dangerously low down your back. It sends a shiver down your spine and he can so obviously tell because he does it again to gauge your reaction. He ruins it though, by sending you off with a buddy pat on your shoulders. “Let’s do pirates plunge first,” he said, and it made you smile how excited he got. You wondered how long it’s been for him too. “No,” you argue, “we have to work our way up to that.” "Do NOT tell me you're planning on staying in the lazy river the whole time," he said, turning to where the middle aged adults who obliged their children lounged, floating leisurely under bridges and waterfalls. It made him shiver. "It's a great place to tan," you teased, and he glared at you. You smiled, and  stretched upward. "You want sunscreen?" You ask, and he looks like he's about to say no, but he nods his head yes. His back is smooth under your hands, and you make sure to lather his shoulders up nicely. You hand him the bottle when you're finished, and he scoffed. "You only did half," he says. "You can do the rest," you assure, and he rolls his eyes, squirting a glob of cream onto his palm before smearing it over his chest. "This kind of half-assery won't be tolerated," he jokes, "I'm going to have to report you to the manager." "Oh please. You're the king of half-assery." He gasps as he rubs his palms down his face, leaving streaks of white there. "How dare you. You're fired." He claims, looking over to one of the smaller two-person slides. You lean over to him and rub in the white with your thumbs, cupping his face a little. He watches your face the whole time, which, you have to admit, is a little creepy. When you're done, you shove him for good measure, before taking off in the other direction. The sun beats down hot on your shoulders, and you two spend hours waiting in lines and talking and spending time together. You could see the burn on John B.'s face and expected you were going to feel the burn too later on that night. It was a blessing whenever clouds rolled through the sky, blocking out the sun for a brief period before she cleared them away. The rides were subpar, but you two didn't notice in the slightest, screaming and yelling at each other down the slides and in tubes. The two of you dodged children and concerned parents and other teenagers, bobbing and weaving in and out of lines. Dripping wet, bodies glistening in the hot sun, you two decided funnel cakes were in order. You stood in line as John B. toweled off by your seats, and he ducked under the belt to stand with you. It got him dirty looks, but he didn't notice. "When are the church kids leaving?" You pondered, stretching on your tip toes to look in front of John B., trying to catch a glimpse of any of them. "In like an hour," he says, glancing up at the big clock poised over the food shack. There was only one in the entire park, which must've been good for business. They were so hot when you got them that the powdered sugar on top was melting. But as you made your way back to your seats, you felt it. “Oh no,” you whine, the water droplets on your bare shoulder. You turn to look at John B., but his gaze is not with yours. His eyes are on the sky, the grey storm clouds rolling in above. You sigh loudly. It’s not like you’re afraid of getting wet. Of all the places to be when it rains, a water park ranks at least in the top ten. But now all the rides were going to be closed. For god knows how long. He looked back down at you, grinning, and then noted your crestfallen expression. He pouted. “Why the long face?” He said, grabbing your chin and shaking it. You jerked away from his grasp to sulk. “Our day is ruined,” you grumbled, walking down in the direction of your chairs, planted conveniently under one of the large umbrellas. He jogged to catch up to you, intertwining his hand with yours. He swings it back and forth childishly. If he could, he’d probably skip down the concrete path to your area. "We have to eat these anyway. It'll probably be done by then," he assured. Much to your dismay, it was not in fact done by then. "That bus is probably going to leave early now," you mused, checking the notification app they made all of you download before you left the bus. “No way. This day’s not over. It’s just getting started,” he said, plucking your phone from your grasp and burying it in the bag he had brought. He left the rest of the conversation to your imagination before he took off running, pulling you in tow. “Hey!” You cried out, but you couldn’t help the giggle rising out of your throat when he stumbled over his own bare feet a little. He hushed you as you caught up to him on the side of the lazy river. There was nobody in it. All the employees were at the front entrance of it, escorting people out. "Wanna do a river run?" He said, slipping down the ladder. Your eyes bulged. "They're gonna kick us out," you said, hopping in after him anyway. You two stood downstream, and waited for tubes. It only took a few seconds before John B. was passing you one, rain falling on his hair and chest. "Now it's cold," you complained, but John B. chastised you. "Stop being a baby. Hang on," he said, standing up for you to grab onto one of the handles of his tube. The lazy river in the rain was a lot more fun than a lazy river in the sunshine. It would only be a few minutes before you reached the front of the ride, where all the workers were stuck trying to collect the tubes. John B. was splashing water at you, and shaking your tube to get you to fall out. You return the favor by flipping him over near the waterfall. He came up sputtering, and in return tried to flip your tube as well, but you latched onto his neck. It was easy for him to support your weight in the water, and he grabbed your legs, wrapping them around his waist as the tubes got away from the two of you. They floated sadly down the river, under the waterfall by themselves. John B. chased them, hands supporting you, your arms wrapped around his neck. He moved slowly towards the waterfall, and threatened to throw you under it. You squealed and pushed yourself up against him as much as you could, cradling his head to your own. If you were going down, so was he. But he stopped just short. You pulled away just a bit, and he was looking at you, eyes intense, smile bright. Your heart skipped a beat and you swear you saw him move closer. You couldn't help but do the same. Until his lips were on yours, moving in sync with you, rain pelting your bodies. His hands were firm underneath you, and you knew he wouldn't let you fall. It had been so long since you realized you wanted to kiss him for the first time. You could settle for him kissing you. "I love you, you know that?" He remarked. You thought it was sweet, until he tossed you under the waterfall. You swear you could hear his laugh from under the water.


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5 years ago

allergic reaction prompts

1. “Does this have (allergy) in it? I’m super allergic to (allergy.)”

2. “It’s getting hard to breathe.”

3. “What do you mean you don’t have an epi-pen on you?!”

4. Is it better to sit down or lie down?”

5. “Okay, just try to breathe, the ambulance is on its way.”

6. “Don’t just stand there, call 9-1-1 you idiot!”

7. “Are you sure there’s (allergy) in this? I feel fine...”

8. “Did he just pass out?! Is he breathing!?”

9. “He’s gonna be pissed when he wakes up in the hospital.”

10. “I have an epi-pen in here somewhere, I know I brought it...”

11. “Take off your shirt, I need to see if there are hives on your back and chest.”

12. “Is that a rash? What did you eat?”

13. “My mouth feels kinda weird. Like, furry. And my tongue is too big.”

14. “Oh god, I think i’m gonna throw up—“

15. “Have you ever been stung by a bee before?”

16. “Is anyone else really really itchy all of a sudden?”

17. “You have to lay down, it’ll help you breathe better.”

18. “Woah, the hives are all over your back now.”

19. “I barely know him. How was I supposed to know he was allergic to Penicillin.”

20. “I’ve never had (allergy) before. Honestly it might be my new favorite thing.”


Tags
5 years ago

ahaha ;) tis true. 

Do you write NSFW stuff?

hey dude! unfortunately, i do not. i can write slight smut but… full on NSFW? no. i’m very very bad at it!

but!!!!! @pitaparka is not! and she’s a great writer! who is accepting request for a bunch of stuff rn including obx. if you have any NSFW ideas you wanna see, shes your girl


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4 years ago

🌺💘🌷 Get to know your mutuals! When you get this, it means someone wants to know more about you, so list 5 things about yourself you want your followers to know! They can be as simple as your age or as complex as your deepest fear, as long as it’s something you’re comfortable with sharing. When you’re done, send this to 10 people you want to get to know better!🌷💘🌺

this is so sweet, thank you sophia!

1. I’m going to be a high school senior next year and still have no idea what i want to do with the rest of my life :(

2. i match my shirts to my shoes, and i wear strictly converse everywhere i go 

3. my favorite song to play on the guitar is let her go by passenger and i know it by heart

4. i’m a hair dye virgin! I’ve only ever used spray-wash out dye for like halloween and stuff

5. i listen to holiday music all year round. working out? christmas music. eating breakfast? halloween music. fourth of july? thanksgiving songs. it’s the best.


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4 years ago

okay this is a random rant but i’m like scared to orgasm? i get to the very end, literally ABOUT to finish and i get scared and stop and i literally don’t know how to train my mind to not be scared of it. it’s so frustrating bc i WANT to but every time i feel like i need to pee i know i’m close but then i stop smhhhh

hi! I haven’t been active lately but this ask has been ruminating with me for a while. I might hop on the wagon again with something not OBX related, but nothing is for sure. I’ve been reading a lot and just hanging out a lot with friends and family which is nice, and I’m sorry it took so long for me to get to this.

Try putting a towel down. It’s not uncommon for you to feel that way! Peeing before you start, or even doing in it the tub or shower can help you not be afraid of making a mess. This isn’t a health advice blog and I’m definitely not a medical professional, but I think as a writer of smut and someone who is very pro sex and masturbation it’s important to embrace the messy parts of pleasure as well as the challenges they present.

big love y’all. talk to ya soon.


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4 years ago

sex headcanons

note — NSFW. whelp. if anyone wanted proof of me being clinically insane, this is what you could show them. not only has all of my free time been devoted to watching anything with pedro pascal in it, this is also what i think about while watching these anythings. i know there are people out there who have loved him for longer and are even more obsessed than i, so i figured i would share my personal headcanons for the PPCU (pedro pascal cinematic universe, duh). big love for any fans of pedrito - nat

image

MANDO

- VIRGIN with a capital V

- did you see how he reacted when grogu touched his face? this man has not been touched since he was a child

- he grew up with the mandalorians but he was exposed to suggestive behaviors because, helloooo, bounty hunter

- you have to coax him into it, but it doesn't take much, since he plans on keeping you around long term

- plus, you're so good with the kid

- you provide him a safe space to explore both himself and also your body and he has no idea how lucky he is for it

- doesn't make very much noise, but loves to listen to you

- he won't last long, he’s so sensitive from years of going untouched, but this man's recovery time???

- unparalleled

- he also has the dick of a space porn star and doesn't know it

- but seriously, rice purity score is NOT lower than 90, and most of the boxes he checks are "running-from-the-police" related

- he really wants to be held and have someone run their hands through his hair and kiss his neck and hold his hands is that too much to ask???

EZRA

- his words are where he gets you

- who knew dirty talk could sound so elegant??? and poetic??

- what a tease he is, too

- he pants so heavily right in your ear holy sweet lord

- and loves to laugh during sex

- he doesn't take himself super seriously unless he gets super into it, which has been known to happen from time to time

- safe words have been used between you two, which there's no shame in, but he's so good to you afterward

- he loves aftercare, and being gentle and sweet after a rough session

- asks you what you want and makes you beg for it

- makes you feel like you're in control but really, he's the one in control

- will make you cum before he does

- kinky kinky boy, almost always willing to try what you want him to

- loves to pin you down, but after he loses his arm it becomes a bit harder, so he settles for holding you flush against his chest as you squirm in his strong grip

FRANKIE

- a little soft spoken, but will whisper in your ear in public because he knows it gets you riled up

- will stare you down from across the room with bedroom eyes

- he's got that pilot's precision if you know what i mean aha

- he's honest with you about what he likes and has no qualms about telling you up front

- gives off switch energy, but you're gonna have to really make it worth his while if you want to fuck him

- a very gentle touch, which he would love to be reciprocated

- he aches from years in the service, his back, his knees, his shoulders

- would probably drop dead if you gave him a massage as foreplay

WHISKEY

- what an arrogant piece of shit

- "gorgeous, darlin', sweetheart, sugar"

- he will butter you up like a roll on thanksgiving goddamn

- so straightforward, and very up in your face, but it got you to sleep with him the first time you met him, so you can't say it doesn't work

- not the best with his fingers, but dear lord that tongue does wonders when he's not talking

- is a man on a mission to please you

- will spend an absurd amount of time between your thighs, and loves to feel you try to push him away when you get oversensitive

- loves it when you get feisty

- pull his hair, bite down a little harder than usual, push him down onto the bed or forcefully unbuckle his pants and this man will be putty in your hands

- is SO LOUD, and expects the same from you

- doesn't understand that because you're not screaming to the heavens doesn't mean he's doing a bad job

- associates volume with pleasure which isn't always the case

- that's something you'll have to work on with him, but he's a patient man

JAVIER PEÑA

- keeps condoms and lube on hand at almost all times

- ohhhh boy is this man willing to go at it wherever, whenever, you name it

- will fuck you until he sweats, and keeps going afterward

- and will definitely do you right

- he fucks to feel in control, so good luck trying to take control with this one

- almost tries to distance himself from you at first, but really it scares him that he cares so much

- there's just something about orgasming at the same time as you that just makes his whole week, and your hole weak (ahaha)

- likes to fuck you from behind and fuck you roughly, hands both occupied at the same time, mouth on you, and dick inside you

- very hands on, but can be sweet afterward

- this man kisses like no other you've ever kissed before, he leaves you breathless

MARCUS MORENO

- leads by example wink wink

- will show you what he wants done to him, and is pretty vanilla, but in a good way

- is big on foreplay and also aftercare, probably one of the sweeter ones on the list

- he's almost methodical in his sex, very routine, but willing to deviate for you

- gentle, but deep, languid strokes

- thinks he's quieter than he actually is

- always has a lot on his mind, so he really appreciates it when you can ease some of his tension

- secretly was really experimental in college

- very attentive to your needs and likes to tease

- morning sex is his thing. when he gets home from a long day, he wants to eat and relax and sleep. but in the morning? before anyone is up and before breakfast is even being considered, he likes to wake you up with sweet bruises and roaming hands

MARCUS PIKE

- marcus is the type of man to respect your boundaries fully, keep copies of toys he knows you like at his house, and surprise you at work with flowers and a dirty quickie in the bathroom because you've wanted to try it so badly

- a more traditional way of thinking on sex, and semi-reluctant to do anything involving his ass, but will try it for you if you really want him to

- a very quick learner, this one, and incredibly intuitive

- what he lacks in skill he makes up for in enthusiasm

- it's almost like he can read your mind, when he uses just the right amount of pressure and uses just the right motion to make you cum for him

- you have no idea how anyone could give this up, let alone break his heart

- his favorite thing is having you ride him, your face buried in his neck as you grind your hips down as he whispers praise in your ear

- marcus isn't super kinky, but i'm sure you can convince him to try something new every once in a while

MAX PHILLIPS

- OFFICE. DESK. SEX.

- "a private word with you in my office, please."

- so very seductive. the hand on the small of your back gets you going and he knows it, but he'll have to be more subtle if he wants to keep you

- another one who will butter you up to get you to sleep with him. he's very obvious about it, so it may or may not work first time. regardless he's up for a challenge

- pays so much attention to your neck. you will have to invest in many turtlenecks if you want to be with max

- big on eye contact, except for the exception of fucking you senseless over his desk

- obviously, a vampire, so he's absolutely magic between your thighs

- is very personable with everyone else, mainly because he's a business major, but he LOVES to make you jealous, this man LIVES off of it

- will one hundred percent expect you to be putty in his arms immediately, and treats it as a competition if you aren't

- he WILL take it personally and will make it a personal goal of his to get you to like him and want to fuck him without using his powers

- a game of cat and mouse

- does not care at all about being loud in the workplace, but he likes to see you struggle to keep quiet, even if everyone else can hear you anyway

MAXWELL LORD

- has suCH a praise kink wow

- his favorite thing is to hear you moan and tell him he’s doing a good job

- a little more vanilla than his counterparts but does like to take control and be a little rough

- a switch sometimes, falls into ruts where he just wants someone to take care of him

- but he WILL NOT ASK FOR IT. his pride won't let him

- at first, he’s not as mindful of you as you’d like him to be

- his sex is fast and unpleasant with hands everywhere and mouths and teeth and touch

- so you sit him down, and show him what you like. very slow and sensual

- you take your time with him, and he eventually starts to do the same with you

OBERYN MARTELL

- remember din's rice purity score? yeah, oberyn's is maybe ten. which is pushing it

- when you meet him, he knows what he likes, and is very particular about it

- he's done his fair share of experimenting, but he's willing to try new things, if there's anything new to be tried

- takes control inside and outside the bedroom

- not afraid to show you your place

- he's the kinky one in the relationship, and he will let you explore his body all you want

- if he doesn't like it he will kindly redirect you, his hands on yours, stroking and tugging and redirecting pressure and placement so that you learn his body in and out

- loves to watch you with his girls and boys. what an exhibitionist this man is

- for most people, they have to choose between quantity or quality in their sex lives. oberyn martell is not most people

- he is a prince, and will not let you forget it, but likes it when you talk back and he has to punish you

PERO TOVAR

- the roughest one on the list, but not the kinkiest

- sex to him when he's at his worst is just a way for him to feel good and relieve stress

- when he's at his best, it's a way for him to make you scream his name

- very possessive about what's his, and if he has to show it in front of everyone else for them to know that he will do it

- this man fucks like a rabbit. how does he find the time??? nobody knows

- his libido is so high. you have no idea how he isn't absolutely spent at the end of a long day of fighting and training and wandering, but he'll fuck you where you lay if you let him and you're too tired to move

- once you accidentally walked in on him stroking himself, and the AUDACITY OF HIM

- he smirked, groaned, and asked you to help him out

- who could resist a man like that


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pitaparka - reader, meet writer. a lover and a fighter.
reader, meet writer. a lover and a fighter.

nat | she/her | gryffindor | sagittarius | xviii

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