starryeyesmasc

[starryeyesmasc]

i literally don’t know how to be nonchalant i love double texting i love pet names i want her to sit on my face i love making playlists i want to buy her cute things

[starryeyesmasc]

justice for girls who get soaked from very little... she'll call me sweet girl and I'll be like okay???? you could very easily slip 3 fingers in right now?????

[starryeyesmasc]

[starryeyesmasc]

John Oliver gets it, as usual. AI Slop is one of the best episodes of Last Week Tonight I've seen so far. Gen AI is theft. Those who use it are not authors or artists, they're grifters profiting from real creatives.

[starryeyesmasc]

wish I was a brilliant but troubled female artist in the early 1900s who journeys from my conflict-torn home to Paris to study art where I meet the master’s protégée and this generation’s prodigy. because of how natural the talent comes to her, I despise her on sight but I crave to learn from her so we sit far apart in the studio one night while it storms outside, rain drumming the windows. we work by candlelight as she explains her favourite brushstroke methods for capturing shadow as something tangible. I have no eyes for her canvas or mine. the only artwork I wish to study is her, her. to sketch her half-awake and drowsy. to kiss her and leave streaks of charcoal on her skin. to immortalise her laughter and the way the sunlight craves her too in a painting that won’t ever leave my sight. and the realisation frightens me so that I knock my brushes to the floor and scramble from the studio into the rain outside.

[starryeyesmasc]

the trees you grew up with have not forgotten you. their branches still whisper your name in the breeze and their roots remember the paths your feet once traced through their shade.

[starryeyesmasc]

[timeout!]

->mild impact play, praise kink, clit spanks, your honour they’re in love. yay sports lesbians!! ✨<-

It’s long since the floodlights have been shut off, and the field is empty. The little carpark between the grass and the shed-turned-clubhouse is deserted. Except for Sloane’s car. She stayed late after training to practice some deflection saves with her captain and girlfriend, Ava. The entire session had essentially been foreplay with a soccer ball involved. As soon as Ava dragged her back to the car, they’d immediately got their hands on each other. The whole place is empty, and they’ve done this more times than either can count—and yet Sloane still worries they’ll be caught.

“Windows,” Sloane pants into Ava’s mouth. “The windows, Ava. Someone’s going to see—”

Ava tightens her grip in Sloane’s hair. Sloane whimpers when she feels her hands shunt under her jersey. “Don’t fucking care.”

Sloane shivers at the breathlessness of her tone, then Ava’s hands make her see stars again. She squeezes over her tits, hard enough for her nails to gouge where her sports bra isn’t covering. The thin sparks of pain make Sloane jerk in desperation and she shunts her hips forward to try and get friction from anything. She ends up with her clit pressed against the handbreak, but before she can grind, Ava’s dragging her to the backseat.

They end up sprawled over the seats, Sloane half-pressed against the door and Ava on top of her. The move is undignified, and both of them laugh as the heat of the moment dissipates a little into something silly. Her girlfriend tucks a stray braid back into her high bun, and Sloane adjusts the strap of her bra. Then Ava’s kissing her again and the desperation sweeps her back up. Sloane wiggles out of her shorts, unceremoniously kicking them down her bruised legs.

“I was going to eat you out,” Ava mutters, breaking the kiss to litter lovebites down her girlfriend’s neck. “But you smell fucking terrible, so I’m saving it for tomorrow.”

Sloane snorts. “Hey, whose fault is that? Who wanted to end training with a round of keeper killers?”

“You said just last week you wanted more reaction drills.”

“Which means you pelting balls from the penalty spot? I object—”

Ava cuts her off with a huff, then drags her hands down her body until she reaches her boxers. Sloane shuts up immediately. She’s soaked, and Ava smirks at the feel of it. It never takes much for Sloane to be amped up when it comes to private time with her girlfriend. She could—and has—cum just from Ava laughing a certain way when she sits in her lap. Her sensitivity is something that Ava has always taken sadistic curiosity in. Like right now. Instead of diving right in like Sloane was hoping, Ava tilts her head. She pinches the fabric of her boxers and presses it further in between her lips. Watching how Sloane’s greedy body glistens around it. Sloane takes a moment to catch her breath and feel herself get wetter the longer her girlfriend stares.

“You’re the neediest thing in the universe,” Ava murmurs to herself. She traces a fingertip around the bud of Sloane’s clit, then brings her palm down in a gentle strike. Sloane jumps at that, and squirms to try and chase the pain-wrapped pleasure. Ava smacks her again and this time she splays her hand over her cunt. The slick sounds of her impact make Sloane topple into a relatively-empty orgasm that barely makes her breathless.

A hand cups against her cheek and pulls her back. Ava prolongs her meek climax by grinding her other hand against Sloane’s clit. Then she slides that hand up and tangles it in Sloane’s messy blonde hair. Sloane’s mouth falls open at the sheer sensation of it all, and she’s gifted with a soft little laugh.

“You’re so good,” Ava coos. “So easy for me.” Her fingers slide around Sloane’s throat and she squeezes lightly. Sloane whimpers and reaches for her.

Ava presses her lips to her forehead, but doesn’t waste time. They have team lift at six the next morning, and as captain and the captain’s girlfriend respectively, they can’t exactly be late. She murmurs a soft okay, baby, I’ll stop teasing. Then Ava shoves two fingers deep and Sloane wraps her arms around her as she starts to piston. They’re about the same height and lean build, but even so, Ava’s making her entire body jolt with each thrust. She presses her hips down to hold Sloane’s lower body in place. And Sloane loses herself to the pleasure.

They’ve been dating since sixth year of secondary, and over the years Sloane’s learned a lot about Ava. Her favourite thing, however, is how Ava gives everything a hundred percent. Training, skill-drills, off-season conditioning blocks. Belting out Depeche Mode lyrics in the locker room before a big game. Fucking her girlfriend so hard they get a noise complaint for the fifth time that week. Ava’s hands know her body better than Sloane does herself. Right now, she’s showing that off to perfection. Deep, meaningful strokes that fill her up, mixed with faster, more powerful strokes that make her gasp out little monosyllabic moans.

“I love you,” Sloane whimpers, pressing her hips tighter up into her girlfriend’s warmth. The words bubble inside her every moment of every day and she has to put voice to them every opportunity she can. She’s not surprised to feel herself tear up. “I love you so much, Aves.”

“Again,” Ava instructs softly, dark eyes shining. “Say again.”

Sloane cranes her neck to watch the repeated plap-plap-plap of Ava’s palm against her clit. The sight of her half-pulled aside boxers makes her throw her head back as the molten heat in the pit of her stomach tightens. “Love—fuck, you’re so good, I—oh fuck—Aves—Avaline—”

Inside her, Ava’s fingers start to slow. “Full sentences.”

“Yes, yes—fuck it feels so good, Aves.” Sloane claws at her shoulders and starts to babble. “I’m so close. I’m gonna cum when I say it. Gonna cum so hard.”

Ava raises an expectant eyebrow and Sloane grabs her face with both hands, trying as hard as she can to kiss her. Her fingers resume a brutal pace and Sloane hurtles back to the molten chase. It doesn’t take long, it was never going to. Ava’s calloused fingertips hook in against her g-spot and Sloane thrashes and screams her next words to the world.

“I love you.”

Ava’s lips meet hers and the world blanks out. The sheer mass of the crashing pleasure stuns her for what feels like an eternity. All she’s aware of as she coasts through it is Ava’s warmth above her, inside her, holding her steady through it all. Sloane gasps for air as she coasts gently back down from it. Ava’s holding her like how she loves to be held—tucked in close and safe, where nothing but love can get to her.

“Your turn,” Sloane pants, sliding her hand up along Ava’s spine to cup the back of her neck. “I want to hear you say it next.”

Ava smiles at that and pulls her in for a deep kiss as her hands start to wander south. They don’t leave the field until much, much later that night.

[starryeyesmasc]

something something the poetry of science etc

[starryeyesmasc]

[timeout!]

->mild impact play, praise kink, clit spanks, your honour they’re in love. yay sports lesbians!! ✨<-

It’s long since the floodlights have been shut off, and the field is empty. The little carpark between the grass and the shed-turned-clubhouse is deserted. Except for Sloane’s car. She stayed late after training to practice some deflection saves with her captain and girlfriend, Ava. The entire session had essentially been foreplay with a soccer ball involved. As soon as Ava dragged her back to the car, they’d immediately got their hands on each other. The whole place is empty, and they’ve done this more times than either can count—and yet Sloane still worries they’ll be caught.

“Windows,” Sloane pants into Ava’s mouth. “The windows, Ava. Someone’s going to see—”

Ava tightens her grip in Sloane’s hair. Sloane whimpers when she feels her hands shunt under her jersey. “Don’t fucking care.”

Sloane shivers at the breathlessness of her tone, then Ava’s hands make her see stars again. She squeezes over her tits, hard enough for her nails to gouge where her sports bra isn’t covering. The thin sparks of pain make Sloane jerk in desperation and she shunts her hips forward to try and get friction from anything. She ends up with her clit pressed against the handbreak, but before she can grind, Ava’s dragging her to the backseat.

They end up sprawled over the seats, Sloane half-pressed against the door and Ava on top of her. The move is undignified, and both of them laugh as the heat of the moment dissipates a little into something silly. Her girlfriend tucks a stray braid back into her high bun, and Sloane adjusts the strap of her bra. Then Ava’s kissing her again and the desperation sweeps her back up. Sloane wiggles out of her shorts, unceremoniously kicking them down her bruised legs.

“I was going to eat you out,” Ava mutters, breaking the kiss to litter lovebites down her girlfriend’s neck. “But you smell fucking terrible, so I’m saving it for tomorrow.”

Sloane snorts. “Hey, whose fault is that? Who wanted to end training with a round of keeper killers?”

“You said just last week you wanted more reaction drills.”

“Which means you pelting balls from the penalty spot? I object—”

Ava cuts her off with a huff, then drags her hands down her body until she reaches her boxers. Sloane shuts up immediately. She’s soaked, and Ava smirks at the feel of it. It never takes much for Sloane to be amped up when it comes to private time with her girlfriend. She could—and has—cum just from Ava laughing a certain way when she sits in her lap. Her sensitivity is something that Ava has always taken sadistic curiosity in. Like right now. Instead of diving right in like Sloane was hoping, Ava tilts her head. She pinches the fabric of her boxers and presses it further in between her lips. Watching how Sloane’s greedy body glistens around it. Sloane takes a moment to catch her breath and feel herself get wetter the longer her girlfriend stares.

“You’re the neediest thing in the universe,” Ava murmurs to herself. She traces a fingertip around the bud of Sloane’s clit, then brings her palm down in a gentle strike. Sloane jumps at that, and squirms to try and chase the pain-wrapped pleasure. Ava smacks her again and this time she splays her hand over her cunt. The slick sounds of her impact make Sloane topple into a relatively-empty orgasm that barely makes her breathless.

A hand cups against her cheek and pulls her back. Ava prolongs her meek climax by grinding her other hand against Sloane’s clit. Then she slides that hand up and tangles it in Sloane’s messy blonde hair. Sloane’s mouth falls open at the sheer sensation of it all, and she’s gifted with a soft little laugh.

“You’re so good,” Ava coos. “So easy for me.” Her fingers slide around Sloane’s throat and she squeezes lightly. Sloane whimpers and reaches for her.

Ava presses her lips to her forehead, but doesn’t waste time. They have team lift at six the next morning, and as captain and the captain’s girlfriend respectively, they can’t exactly be late. She murmurs a soft okay, baby, I’ll stop teasing. Then Ava shoves two fingers deep and Sloane wraps her arms around her as she starts to piston. They’re about the same height and lean build, but even so, Ava’s making her entire body jolt with each thrust. She presses her hips down to hold Sloane’s lower body in place. And Sloane loses herself to the pleasure.

They’ve been dating since sixth year of secondary, and over the years Sloane’s learned a lot about Ava. Her favourite thing, however, is how Ava gives everything a hundred percent. Training, skill-drills, off-season conditioning blocks. Belting out Depeche Mode lyrics in the locker room before a big game. Fucking her girlfriend so hard they get a noise complaint for the fifth time that week. Ava’s hands know her body better than Sloane does herself. Right now, she’s showing that off to perfection. Deep, meaningful strokes that fill her up, mixed with faster, more powerful strokes that make her gasp out little monosyllabic moans.

“I love you,” Sloane whimpers, pressing her hips tighter up into her girlfriend’s warmth. The words bubble inside her every moment of every day and she has to put voice to them every opportunity she can. She’s not surprised to feel herself tear up. “I love you so much, Aves.”

“Again,” Ava instructs softly, dark eyes shining. “Say again.”

Sloane cranes her neck to watch the repeated plap-plap-plap of Ava’s palm against her clit. The sight of her half-pulled aside boxers makes her throw her head back as the molten heat in the pit of her stomach tightens. “Love—fuck, you’re so good, I—oh fuck—Aves—Avaline—”

Inside her, Ava’s fingers start to slow. “Full sentences.”

“Yes, yes—fuck it feels so good, Aves.” Sloane claws at her shoulders and starts to babble. “I’m so close. I’m gonna cum when I say it. Gonna cum so hard.”

Ava raises an expectant eyebrow and Sloane grabs her face with both hands, trying as hard as she can to kiss her. Her fingers resume a brutal pace and Sloane hurtles back to the molten chase. It doesn’t take long, it was never going to. Ava’s calloused fingertips hook in against her g-spot and Sloane thrashes and screams her next words to the world.

“I love you.”

Ava’s lips meet hers and the world blanks out. The sheer mass of the crashing pleasure stuns her for what feels like an eternity. All she’s aware of as she coasts through it is Ava’s warmth above her, inside her, holding her steady through it all. Sloane gasps for air as she coasts gently back down from it. Ava’s holding her like how she loves to be held—tucked in close and safe, where nothing but love can get to her.

“Your turn,” Sloane pants, sliding her hand up along Ava’s spine to cup the back of her neck. “I want to hear you say it next.”

Ava smiles at that and pulls her in for a deep kiss as her hands start to wander south. They don’t leave the field until much, much later that night.

[starryeyesmasc]

WORD GO SUCK A FAT ONE U LOSER

YEAH TELL IT

[starryeyesmasc]

WORD JUST FUCKING CRASHED and I’d been working on something I really liked for like two hours.

[starryeyesmasc]

Not to be pornographic but you should lay your head on my chest so I can slowly play with your hair and scratch your head and caress your neck until all your muscles relax then I'll kiss your forehead

[starryeyesmasc]

Hey I should have unrestricted access to your neck for biting and kissing and sucking just btw

[starryeyesmasc]

self care is listening to the attack on titan soundtrack

[starryeyesmasc]

anyone want to send me some lil smut fic ideas to write??

[starryeyesmasc]

the concept of being anti-immigration AND being Irish is so fucking funny to me. my brother in christ, WE are the immigrants. we’re irish we’re fucking everywhere

[starryeyesmasc]

just remembered the first fanfic I wrote was like back in 2015 and it was a MikaAnnie fanfic because I was deeply obsessed with AoT