#you can't just “body ripple” casually like that good sir

[astrovian]

Richard Armitage with Gaby Roslin as this week's guest on The Gaby Roslin Podcast: Reasons to be Joyful (21/01/25)

[nonotnolan]

Jock Cock, Part 1

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Adam Johnson, next year's star quarterback and this year's bane of my existence, looked up at me with his baby blue eyes. If he was trying to look small and unintimidating, it would have worked better without carrying 200+ pounds of muscle on a six foot frame.

Well, if he wanted to be melodramatic, two could play that game. "You know full well why I called you here, Adam." I thumped the stack of papers on my desk for emphasis. "You've been failing ECON 105 all semester, but suddenly you can score an 83% on the final exam? It's enough to get you D- in this class. It's not a perfect score, but it's still enough for you to avoid academic probation."

His face flashed with a brief moment of irritation before setting back into his normal, casual stupor. "Well, I wasn't studying before, and now I did. It's not like I scored all that great... sir."

"We both know that you don't know what 'sustainability' means, Adam. You tried to fly under the radar, you didn't cheat your way into a 100%... but it's still cheating. We both know that academic misconduct is a serious crime." I tried my best to sound stern and disappointed, but it was hard to be angry at a face this sexy.

Adam just laughed at me. "And if you could prove it, you wouldn't be calling me into a private meeting, would you?" He leaned back into a shit-eating grin, displaying his dazzling white teeth. This asshole had the upper hand, and he knew it.

"I checked every single essay!" I said, pounding the stack of papers once again. "Every essay, in every single TA's session of this class. You didn't plagiarize... but we both know this isn't your style of writing. And we watched you like a hawk during the exam itself, so you didn't cheat that way, either."

Adam leaned close into my face. "Professor Michaels has no idea that you called me in here, does he? You're just a Teaching Assistant on a power trip, and it's all because you can't stand knowing how I did it." He was right, and I hated him for it. Worse, when he stood this close to me, I could smell the musk of his body.

"Tell you what," he added, pulling off his tank top to reveal a set of firm abs. "You let me get away with this... sign off on my scores, whatever you need to do... and I'll let you live out one of your deepest, darkest fantasies." He struck a pose, showing off both his rippling muscles and his hairy pits. "We both know that you'll never get jock cock any other way. Come on, Teach. You want this."

Was I really that easy to read? "I-- I'm sure I don't know what you mean. Look, if you're going to stick to your lie about studying, then you can just leave. I don't... there's no need to insult my moral character. You're a student, Adam."

He responded by leaning in close to me, and placing his hand on top of my bulge. "Your body betrays you," he whispered, letting his fingers massage my inner thigh. "If it makes you feel better, I'm not your student. Adam and I swapped bodies so that I could take all of his final exams."

"I... yes, well..." That was the last thing I expected him to say, but it would explain a lot if it were true, somehow. It seemed much more likely than a desirable athlete like Adam coming onto me, at the very least.

"Be that as it may," I said, grabbing his hand and moving it away before my cock started leaking though my slacks, "that body still belongs to one of my students. And I still have meetings to attend today, so if we're done here..."

Adam, or the stranger in Adam's body, just laughed at me. "You're the one who wanted to have this meeting, remember? But that's fine, I know when I'm not wanted. But here's the thing-- once you submit grades at end of day, Adam's not your student anymore." He started typing something on his phone. "And honestly, I expected this from you. You're so uptight. Good thing you gave everyone your cell phone number on the syllabus at the start of the year. So if you change your mind... now you can have Adam's number, and a bonus pic from me."

"I know you don't know the real me, but trust me Kevin-- I've wanted to plow that uptight hole of your for months. And in this body, I've actually got a shot at it." The stranger slapped my ass before I could react, and swaggered out of the room. Whoever was inside of Adam's body, they knew my first name.

I looked at the retreating wall of shoulder muscles, and down at the teasing bathroom selfie the stranger sent to me. God help me, I was only human. And he was right-- how else was I going to get jock cock? He wasn't a student, not really, and that's what mattered. "You win. Tonight at 8pm, my place. Bring lube."

Check out Part 2 here. Check out Part 3 here.

[velarisdusk]

The Weight of Expectation

Day 23: 24/7 Scene | Cassian x Reader word count: 1.4k author’s note: GOD this one was so hard to figure out. i scrapped and rewrote this 4 different times bc i hated every single one. do i like this one? …… well………  i have made peace with it. ✦ . Kinktober Masterlist . ✦

You could feel Cassian watching you as you moved around the kitchen, preparing his breakfast. The air was thick with the usual weight of expectation, a tension that never really left the space between you. Even now, as you stirred the eggs in the pan, his presence wrapped around you like a physical force.

When the eggs were done, you served them neatly onto his plate, along with the hashbrowns and bacon you’d made. You took care with every moment to be sure everything looked perfect for him. 

"Did I tell you to stand like that?" His voice cut through the silence, casual but firm.

Your heart skipped a beat. You knew the rules. Without hesitation, you shifted, spreading your legs just slightly as you continued your task, keeping your posture perfect, your body on display in the way he liked—even while cooking.

"No, sir," you whispered softly, your voice careful not to betray the flicker of nerves that always came with his quiet commands.

"Better." He hummed approvingly, leaning back in his chair, the sound of his contentment sending a ripple of warmth through you. Every inch of your body was tuned to him, every movement deliberate, knowing he was watching for perfection, for obedience.

This wasn’t just a fleeting scene; it was always like this—the quiet rules, the constant, unspoken control. You could feel it in the way you addressed him, in the way you moved around him, even when he wasn’t explicitly giving orders. You didn’t have to be naked or restrained to feel his dominance; it was in the way he lingered behind you, in the way you were always hyper-aware of his gaze.

“You’re distracted.” His tone was soft, but there was that familiar edge of control, and your hand froze mid-stir. He was right. Your mind had wandered.

You took a steadying breath, forcing your attention back to the stove. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Cassian’s chair scraped back. You didn’t need to turn around to know he was coming closer, and sure enough, his hand gently moved you aside, away from the stove, backing you against the counter. His hand slid around your waist, pulling you against him. He said nothing for a moment, just stood there, his body warm and solid against yours, his hand heavy on your hip. He didn’t need to speak for you to feel the authority that always lingered in the air between you.

“You forget yourself sometimes, don’t you?” His voice was a low murmur in your ear, a dark, teasing note that sent heat spiraling through your core.

You swallowed, nodding. “Yes, sir.”

Cassian chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that vibrated through you. “Good thing I’m here to remind you, then.” His hand slid lower, over the curve of your stomach, fingers teasing along the waistband of your leggings. “Let’s see if you remember the other rules, hm?”

Your breath hitched. He wasn’t asking. You stepped out of your leggings quickly, folding them and setting them aside, standing in just your oversized t-shirt—nothing beneath. He always liked that. It was one of the rules.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his fingers grazing your bare skin as he pressed his body against you. “Makes everything so much easier when you behave.”

His hand slid between your legs, fingers brushing over you, finding you already wet—because of course you were. He always had this effect on you. It didn’t matter if you were supposed to be making breakfast, cleaning, or readying for bed; it never mattered. His control reached every part of you.

"You've been good this morning," he murmured, his fingers working in slow, agonizing circles. "But I think I can push you a little, can't I?"

Your breath caught, and you pressed your hips against his hand instinctively, your body already moving to obey even before he’d really asked anything of you.

“Yes, sir. Please,” you whispered.

He chuckled again, dark and pleased, tilting your chin up to face him, holding your gaze. “Watch me.” His free hand moved to turn you around and press your chest against the counter, keeping you in place as his fingers continued their slow, relentless torment between your legs. "I’ll give you your reward after breakfast. But until then,” he said, his voice taking on that dark, commanding tone that made your toes curl, “you’re going to stay like this, and you’re going to watch me enjoy what you’ve made. Understood?"

Your heart pounded in your chest, the subtle tension between following his orders and fighting the need he always ignited within you. Cassian moved away briefly, his wings shifting as he did, the broad expanse of them dark and powerful. The way they flared slightly behind him made him look even more imposing, radiating control. You swallowed hard, eyes glued to the way his wings framed his body as he sat back down.

He took a slow bite, his eyes locked on you, watching your every reaction. “Remember,” he added, his voice a low growl that made your knees weak, “you’re not allowed to touch yourself until I say so.”

All you could do was watch as you stood there, bent over the countertop, your body humming with need. Every bite Cassian took was slow, deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours. The control he exuded was almost suffocating, filling the room and wrapping around you like a thick, inescapable force.

“You look like you’re struggling, sweetheart,” he remarked casually, setting his fork down with a soft clink. The smirk that followed raised goosebumps along your arms. “Do you want to tell me what’s going through that pretty head of yours?”

Your throat felt tight, the words caught there as you stood frozen, feeling the wetness between your legs growing, the ache intensifying. “I… I want to pleasure you, sir,” you finally whispered.

Cassian chuckled, that low, dangerous sound that both thrilled and terrified you. “Oh, I know you do.” His wings shifted slightly behind him. “And you do, every day. But right now, I want you to stay exactly where you are and wait for me.”

Your legs trembled as he finished his meal and rose from his seat, moving toward you with that deadly grace that always made you weak. He didn’t rush. No, Cassian liked to take his time, to stretch out the anticipation until it was unbearable. He stopped just in front of you on the opposite side of the counter, tilting your chin up so your eyes met his.

“You know what I love about you?” he murmured, his voice a velvety rasp that made your stomach flip. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, teasing. “It’s how you respond to me. The way your body listens without a second thought.”

His hand slid down your throat, his fingers barely grazing your skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “I can feel it in you right now,” he continued, voice low, dangerous. “The need. The ache. You want to break, don’t you? To say damn it all and touch yourself?”

You shook your head, eyes wide, body trembling. "No, sir," you breathed. “I only ever want…what you want for me.”

Cassian smiled, his grip tightening ever so slightly around your neck, just enough to remind you of his control. “Look at how tightly I’ve got you wrapped around my finger,” he growled softly, more to himself, leaning in so his breath brushed your ear. "You’ll come when I say. And only when I say. Not a moment sooner."

His hand slipped between your legs again, fingers teasing. "You're going to stand here and take whatever I give you. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," you whispered, your voice shaking as you tried to keep your composure, though your legs trembled beneath you. The heat of his hand was searing as it trailed lower, his fingers teasing over your sensitive skin. You could feel his breath hot against your neck, the smell of him filling your lungs—earthy and dark, like the scent of leather and steel. 

He smiled wickedly, brushing his lips over your cheek, a ghost of a kiss that left you breathless. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you flush against him. “Let’s see how long you can hold on,” he whispered darkly, his fingers pressing deeper, drawing a gasp from your lips. “Don’t break on me yet, sweetheart.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

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