STOP I'M FKIN CHOKING--

I want his 6'0 ass to stomp on me.

LOVING how he looks like a metal head when he goes to the gym 😂

Tbh so do I, rocking the ripped up horror movie shirts, cranking up my rock/emo/metal music bc it's genuinely the only thing that helps me work out.

If I saw that man, I'd end up missing a step on the treadmill and face plant the floor, breaking all my teeth in the process. My man needs to wear a warning sign 💀

I would die to get my hands on an Austin workout video. I would do so much. I would even be willing to go to the gym (well... he already managed, but that is another story), so here goes: Austin hitting the gym - the collection.

* criteria:

No swimming

Yes yoga

No dog walking

Yes from and to the gym

No shooting and walking outside

Addition up to the discretion of Psyche

"Big focus in hip mobility" - just kill me already... 3 of my favourite exercises of the Video below- you exactly know why I chose these... a dirty mind is a joy forever - it is obscene...

full workout video 👇

And a bit of what post-gym may look like:

The six items that did not make the cut:

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Post by @psycheetamore · 2 images

💬 0  🔁 0  ❤️ 2 · 6 days until 👆 Let me give you a pre-post: items that did not make the cut Standing hip thrust - apparently good for glut

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Post by @psycheetamore · 3 images

💬 0  🔁 2  ❤️ 5 · 5 days until 👆 Let me give you a pre-post: items that did not make the cut Jump rope - always good for cardio, getting he

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Post by @psycheetamore · 2 images

💬 0  🔁 0  ❤️ 3 · 4 days until 👆 Let me give you a pre-post: items that did not make the cut Romanian deadlift, with what seems to be somet

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💬 4  🔁 1  ❤️ 14 · 3 days until 👆 Let me give you a pre-post: items that did not make the cut What the crossfit torture is this... but it

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Post by @psycheetamore · 1 video

💬 0  🔁 1  ❤️ 2 · 2 days until 👆 Let me give you a pre-post: items that did not make the cut. The reason being that there is another video I

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Post by @psycheetamore · 1 video

💬 0  🔁 0  ❤️ 0 · 1 day until 👆 Let me give you a pre-post: items that did not make the cut Bc shooting isn't hitting the gym, despite the

@dailydoseofaustinbutler @f3ytal

Feyd Rautha / Austin Gif sets/photo sets - up to date overview

Like Water for Chocolate, Days of Being Wild, Les Félins

HEAR ME OUT

I don't wanna fix him...

I want him to ruin me

hear me out on Vernon Jefferson (or Peak?) I can fix him, make him better

GIMME FICS ABOUT THIS MAN I WANT HIM

Don't mind me,

I'm just daydreaming about sharing a life with this man...

The mood board in itself deserves a repost... so pretty 🥺 so vibey ✨️

|| Miming Normalcy

Pairing: Gale x OC (Maureen Kendeigh)

Note: for everyone who, last year, begged for more Gale smut in this universe, here it is. It had to wait in drafts with all its friends due to needing some other segments published to make this one make sense, although this one is all porn, little plot. No for real, it’s nasty af and this boy hasn’t gone to therapy but there’s also love. Lots of love. And smut. Again, not much plot to be missed here 😏

Warnings: nasty af, if this ain’t your jam, please avail yourself of the exit, I get fully it. 18+ for smut, also vague allusions to past abuse, gender confusion and the inner turmoil of a Bi man in the 1940’s, Gale Cleven being a dream sub boy after a long days work? Uh, that’s probs all? Squirting? No PIV sec just handies, etc. If that’s not your jam, again, feel free to bail 💋

Circa: 1946

On these days Maureen often picks him up. The bike is not a fitting mode of conveyance for a man moonlighting as a respectable officer, and though he often gets ribbed by his new navy buddies for his missus picking him up like a kid at school: Maureen is a busy woman. She goes about town, she works at the school and she needs the car while Gale is trapped at one place for work, or else up in the sky, for nine hours a day -what’s he need the car for during that time?

And something about the easy-hearted ribbing does him good, no one knows him here, not well enough to think twice about being delicate or nice or to take care not to push his buttons.

Gale likes how utterly regular he is here, he likes what an old man he’s become, another veteran who thinks he knows best and already has a wife who pulls up and ensures he has to go home so he can’t go to the bar with the cadets. Maureen plays her part admirably, pulling up to the sidewalk with her end-of-the-day cosmetics glowing just a tad too shiny from the salt air and heat, with her eyes happy to see him and her mouth authoritative about not letting the meatloaf get cold in a way that scares his cadets worse than anything he could ever do.

Gale enjoys enacting the sheepish dip of his head into the car, the wasteful blast of coolant on his blushing cheeks as he folds himself into the passenger seat: the future evening of word games and domesticity and sexless reserve that his boys anticipate for him.

This too feels like a game, one just humiliating enough to make him feel utterly known, just dangerous enough to feel alive, abundantly tender enough to make him feel cherished.

Maureen drives all this way back and forth, morning and evening along their coastal highway, to ferry him to work and she does it because they’re married and she for one likes to act like it.

One handed she pulls them away from the curb, white glove on a white lacquered wheel, she’s fucking perfect and Gale knows what’s beneath those gloves and his mouth waters at this game once more. One handed she pulls away and the other hand waves to his boys, self aware and chirpy and pitying all at once at their bachelordom. Single handedly she steers away into the roundabout lanes that form the circle in front of the base while waving, single handedly she drives the car into the bend when her gloved and waving hand drops and grips Gale’s crotch like a loving vice.

Hot electric reasoning shoot up his thighs and he feels like he’s breathing for the first time today, first time at least since he made his last touchdown today. Alive, wheels skidding along a tarmac, cadet scared shitless and proud in front, with Gale as the useless clapping squad in back.

Such was the life of a flight instructor.

Her hand makes it all very real, very satisfying, something worthwhile. He feels his blood rush. The feeling is not just in his thighs anymore.

“Wave to your boys, dear.” she teases him but her hand is no joking matter and it tightens against him until he manages a fuck-off sort of wave and Maureen vocalizes a small sound of happy approval before gunning it onto the Boulevard.

And that’s Gale’s day done, no more need to be good or perfect, he’s waved the boys off and put in his shift and he’s done now. He feels like he’s melting into the seat, his head thudding back against the leather headrest -a deep red like all the accents in this white car’s interior, except for the white steering wheel, and even it juts out from a white lacquered steering dash. Maureen is still spinning the damn well and easily grasping him with the other gloved hand. His legs fall further open, his droopy eyes utterly transfixed by the glint of her wrist watch on her tanned skin, peeking out from the gloves hem.

“Fuck.” Gale heaves out at the sight, he loves this little life they play at, he loves her gloves and her old army watch; the way she drives a car like a man and palms at him before he’s even waved goodbye to his green recruits. He tries to hold on to this moment, the feel of her palm rubbing circles on his cockhead, dragging his slacks across tender skin in a circle that mimics that of her other hand taking the wheel around a turn, the feel of salt air hitting his nose when they turn into the highway, headed home, no groceries to be gotten, no friends to see. He loves this little life and he tries to remember that, to remind himself he’s got nothing to be running from as often as he does. Who’d want anything else. It makes no sense at all. He’s never going to again.

His heart clenches at the lie. What kinda fucked is he to leave this. Because he’s going to again, just like he did three months ago and seven before that. He can almost feel the crawling itch spreading beneath his skin.

“Don’t cum in my car.” Maureen registers the tenseness that takes over him, and Gale’s head that was growing all too jumbled with itchy thoughts, suddenly stills into a muffled fog, the itch flees from his forearms and calves and instead he can feel his cock wagging against her knuckles in a pathetic attempt to dribble out a little more of the pressure. One crease of a thigh feels wet, he must be leaking everywhere.

They pass the Seashell Motel’s freshly painted sign with its blue and pink lettering and he knows he’s got ten minutes ahead. He’s not at all sure he can hold on but then: first day of work when she first did this -first time she picked him up and grabbed his cock and told him to wave and then drove one handedly home- he had talked back and told her to stop touching him if she wanted him to last.

“Thought you prized discipline, Major Cleven.” his wife had retorted, “Or maybe that was only in the Air Force.”

With all the hurt pride of a newly minted Navy man, Gale had taken that personally and gritted his teeth and dug bloody crescents into his palms, braced his feet to the floorboards and when Maureen put it in park he had staggered out hard as a rock onto their home dock and into their boat house and hadn’t made it three feet before she flicked open his belt, pulled him out, dropped to her knees, tapped his puffy pink head on her lower lip and he’d shot his load on her tongue.

He’d not cum in the car, though.

He won’t today either, he puffs out his cheeks and he sees Maureen dare to look away from the flat stretch of road to glance his way, he looks stupid and she looks so loving and then her eyes flick back to the road and he lets his breath out in a low whistle. It calms the inevitable spurt between his legs but it also clears the fog in his head, six miles out from home and he’s starting to think thoughts again and if he was a man of impulse he might whine over that development.

The sharp bolt of pleasure that is Maureen’s nailless thumb thing into his slit banishes them and he groans, thankful and close, it gets lost in the road noise and the rushing delight of the sea air roaring through the open windows. She’s going far faster than fifty five miles an hour and Gale lolls his head to the side and watches her firm chin and the posture of her driving and his heart thuds hard in his chest. Her nose that turns up just so.

He wants to kiss it. He has become a man of impulse in some ways. So long as those ways aren’t too pathetic. Hauling himself upright and over the middle seat and into her space and turning the face of a driving motorist to his own so he can, in fact, kiss her nose, doesn’t seem pathetic at all, it’s risky and it’s rash and Gale loves the way she doesn’t even flinch or pull away. When he senses the kiss has lasted long enough to endanger others if not themselves, he pulls away and Maureen’s eyes are on him briefly and not the road when he pulls out of her line of sight.

“My sweet boy.” she murmurs and looks back to the road, the hand once happily torturing him, securing him in place, tethering him to the earth, raises up and pets his cheek before her gloved fingers slip into his mouth and pull his head down to the seat, to her lap. He goes, lets her slide her fingers over his tongue, realizing the salty wetness already there is his precum. Gale wishes he could suck her off on some coastal road trip, he closes his eyes, feels the rough fingers thrusting closer down his tongue, tastes the salt, imagines it and his hips cant futile and desperate into the air.

“That’s it, that’s it, feels so nice, such a warm mouth, huh?” she mutters above him and he is fully afloat now, it feels so good with the car seat vibrating beneath his back, his cock drooling uselessly against his leg beneath his trousers and Maureen thrusting her fingers into his mouth. “You’re gonna make me cum.” she gasps suddenly, almost a reprimand she sounds so surprised, Gale just moans and almost falls to the floorboard when she turns without shifting down, the pitted road a sure sign they’re home. She takes her spit soaked hand and grasps the gear shift, slowing the car properly for the residential stretch of gravel and Gale’s heart clenches at the sight of her grasping the thing. He’s fully lost it and he laughs at himself.

She laughs too. Fully in on it, but far more eager and desperate than him as the car lurches to a stop.

“Do I need to get your door?” she sounds perfectly willing and after regaining thought for enough moments to remember he can in fact sit up, open his door and walk out without her, Gale grunts in the negative. “Alright.” she allows and he does just that, with a grunt and a hiss at how alive his body is and he follows her out of the glinting late afternoon sun, across the dock, along their own little ramp with its pretty painted decals and into the bobbing little structure they call home.

The door clicks and Gale almost hits his knees before she tells him to. She does though, kindly but he’s already going and on a technicality he might be forgiven as obeying an order but they both know he was at it first.

“I need to cum.” she tells him and part of the usual instructions are left out and he is puzzled by that. Puzzled still when she is right up to him, undoing her pleated trousers right at eye level, his head knocking back into the small piece of wall furniture that holds their mail on top and their various boots and shoes below. Puzzled when she shucks her pants and nothing else, props a foot up on the side piece furniture and instead of dragging his face to what he can see is a glistening mass of auburn curls, just grabs his hair and keeps his face bent back, it’s so reminiscent, so male he feels the want surge down his spine once more and, no longer supported by a car bench seat, his drawn up balls throb in his slacks with an excruciatingly acute need.

He focuses on the familiar yet mildly wrong hand in his hair, he zones in on the glittery pink expanse of her, folded and open and womanly, he licks his lips with surety that he can taste her by mere proximity, and quietly looses his mind when she puts her gloved hand back to his mouth and tells him, “Help me take them off.”

Cotton mouthed and with a tongue weighing a ton, Gale nips at the glove’s fingers, careful in his haste not to nip the fingers themselves and after a few rushed and failed attempts he cools himself and tries again, resolute and determined like he should be and he hears her hum in approval as the fabric peels off.

“Perfect.” she commends him, her typical hoarse voice gone so deep it makes him shudder, and her hand slips out of the glove that is still clenched between his teeth and it comes out a perfect patchwork of ugly white scars on tanned flesh and Gale longs for them to be near his mouth again. “Drop it, darling.” she tells him and it takes a minute for the order to sift through his faux realities but it does in time, and he lets the glove go from between his teeth. It lands on the floor between them, sodden and unheeded. “I need these slick.” she’s presenting her bare fingers to him and he pulls against the tug of her other hand in his hair to obey, it makes her laugh at his eagerness and he knows she’s pleased but she is the one to bring them to his face, to work with the tilt she has on his head, to breach his lips and slide them along his tongue.

He moans like he’s the one getting blown. He lets it be messy, like he learned how, let’s the spit collect and let’s it slick her up like she liked, lets the nosies slap about their small home and his eyes close to appreciate that wet chorus like he’s not the one doing it. He feels so good he could float away on it.

“Open your eyes, sweet boy, open them for me.” Maureen’s one leg must be aching from holding all her weight, her other still propped up in his face by the foot near his head. “Need you to watch this, see how much you make me want you- how good you are at this, need you not to miss your reward.”

Gale licks his lips, ready for his hair to be released, for the tug to bend his neck downwards, for the salty sweet taste of a woman on his tongue.

But she doesn’t move him, she keeps him there and the hand on his mouth leaves and comes between her own legs, right at his line of sight, and there she thrashes her spit soaked hand against the puffy bud between her legs and a flick of the wetness flies and hits his cheek. He can hear the sound he makes. It’s inhuman and wanting and dark and he cannot claim it as his own at this moment but he thinks he won’t be able to breathe much longer if she won’t let him taste her, he thinks it’ll break his heart if she ends this little fiction right now and lets him lick her. He doesn’t know what he wants but he feels utterly known right now as his wife holds his face up and -well if she were a man, if she were Bucky, if he were Bucky, he’d call it jacking off, she’s jacking of on his face. He can’t seem to even swallow his own spit at the moment.

Maureen sounds like she’s torturing herself quite briefly, there’s no way she can keep up that frantic friction of her hand for long but it seems to be killing her as is and she starts letting out little cries that are nothing like the sweet helpless ones he digs out of her womb when he’s inside her. “Here it is baby, here it comes, so good for me, so good you’ve made me crazy, open that pretty mouth Gingerale, open that mouth up so I can—“

Claim it, yes yes, he thinks, claim it, coat it, fucking ruin me please.

“Mine, you’re mine.” she swears to him and he turns it vicious and jealous in his head just to make the high last longer, to add to the effect and then to his shock, he feels the wet spray of her on his face, her hand still rubbing frantically as little clear spurts of pleasure fling out and across his face, wet and salty and it could be a man or a hose or his wife it’s so nebulous a drenching, but it is his wife and Gale’s tongue about tears itself out of his own mouth in his angst to catch it all. What it doesn’t catch tickles his cheeks and collects in his lashes and drips from his chin into the proper navy collar of a respectable man. She makes noises as she calms down, a few jerking cries as the last gushes squirt out.

Her leg falls from beside his head, her bare thighs shaking terribly and he can’t move a inch, her hand still so tight in his hair. Panting down at him, her face is almost as deep a red as her hair. She takes her foot and presses it to his crotch and he makes a sound that should belong strictly to dogs. “So good for me,” she pants, her voice wrecked and his heart hasn’t managed a beat in half a minute, he’ll be ok though, she’ll see to that, “I want you to come now. Now you’ve made me feel so good.”

It should probably take more but it never does. Gale’s hips jerk against her foot and she lets his head go and he sags forward, face buried into her belly where her silky mauve shirt bunches up and he moans for the long while it takes for all of it to ooze out unprovoked. His wife pets him all the while, one hand sweetly combing through his hair, the other firm on his neck, not letting him straighten up until he’s truly through. It’s just the right side of demanding and Gale typically clenches and jerks through it for an insufferable amount of time and comes to while slumped against her hip utterly satisfied.

“There really is meatloaf this time.” Maureen tells him after what could be two minutes or an hour, and she sounds herself again if a little hoarse. “And I’m getting worried for your knees.”

He pulls away and sniffs, face tacky from tears and- female ejaculate, he supposes, stunned and yet accepting. They’ll need to talk. Not now though. Right now he thinks of standing up and he is supported in that mission only by the feel of Maureen’s hand carding through his hair at the nape of his neck.

“It’s Tilly’s recipe.” she informs him, very happy, very natural, very wifely.

Feeling comes back to Gale’s legs in painful pinpricks. He puts his hands on her hips and heaves himself up until he is his full height and she is staring up at him calm and deceptively careless. “I’m gonna shower.” he tells her, booping her nose as he cannot fathom kissing her with a face this sticky, and she nods in agreement, knowing he’s not fully back but will be, knowing he’s got her pinned somewhere between wife and- it doesn’t matter anymore.

“I’ll set the table.”

“Alright.”

She sets the table, he showers. He leaves the door open so she can come in if something bad happens to him in there. Nothing bad happens. The itch doesn’t come back at all that night. They get some ketchup on the crossword puzzle but it’s alright. It’s their home, they can do what they damn well please. Gale can’t recall why it is he ever wants to leave.

💋 Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it! If you’d like to be added or taken off this tag list, just drop me a note!

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😳 I mean..

Fairly Obedient Good Boy 💘Austin Butler

This is beautiful 🥰

iInspired by jeff buckley's lover, you should’ve come over (aka bucky's yearning song)

will i ever see your sweet return? lover, you should've come over.

ೃ࿔ FOREVERDOLLY'S MASTERLIST GUIDE

"𝙛𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙮 '𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙞𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙜𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚. 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙣' 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮 "𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚?". . ."

my requests are currently closed, however will be reopened shortly. feel free to private message me and initiate a friendship !

my drabbles can be found here if you’d like to read more of my content ! my writing improves day by day so please make sure to check my "about me" to see my most recent posts. support your favorite fanfic authors by following, reblogging and interacting with their uploads. it means the world !

- xoxo dolly

→ 【ELVIS PRESLEY MASTERLIST】

author's picks: the "my bestest girl" series as well as the "pomegranate" oneshot are great places to start !

→ 【AUSTIN BUTLER MASTERLIST】

author's picks: "tattooed heart", the "fake dating" series as well as "shotgun wedding" are my personal favorites !

→ 【"DUNE" MASTERLIST】

author’s picks: check out “savage bonds” if you have a few screws loose and think that obsessive, morally grey men are hot.

"𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙮𝙚𝙩 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙞'𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙜𝙚𝙩- 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙚𝙢'. . . !"

Austin Butler being adorable