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trashbag-baby666 · 28 days

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Sweet Creature-Curt/Lemmons

Happy birthday to my dearest Curtielicious @mangokitkats !!!! Luv you I apologize this is a day late!!!

Summary: a glimpse into the first morning of Curt and Ken’s honeymoon in Italy!

WC: 1,613

C/W: NSFW, fingering, penetration, riding, y’know it’s smut.

A/N: I just wanted to say this is like an off shoot of my high school au of them as adults!!! So I’ll provide more lore at any request that’s mentioned in here!

MOTA Masterlist!

Curt had to click together in his mind whether he had died and woke up in heaven or if this really was his life. Ken sat by the window with his knee pulled up to his chest, his chin resting on it. A paintbrush rested between his dainty fingers, dancing a light shade of yellow over the canvas. He blinked a few times to clear the morning fog out, Ken still sat there with the early morning Italian sunlight kissing his bare shoulders.

“Good morning, Curtie.” Ken glanced over to him from where he sat. The remnants of last night's clothes and Curt’s prosthetic tossed onto the floor next to the bed. The soft white sheet haphazardly lay on Curt’s waist, his thigh peaking out just slightly.

“Surprised you’re awake.” Curt rubbed his eyes resting his arm on the pillow staring at the beautiful angel in the room. They decided to meet in Italy for Ken’s birthday. Curt had a flight to pilot there a couple days ago. Ken got off of work yesterday and flew from Wyoming to Orvieto, Italy, “Not jet lagged?”

“Slept on the flight. Slept hard for a couple hours after our love making. Decided to paint you.” Ken turned the canvas showing the beginning of a painting of him.

“Well you better be awake, Kennie we got a birthday wine tasting today.”

“Don’t remind me…I already felt extra crunchy when I got out of bed today.”

“Couldn’t stretch your legs on the flight?”

“Not everyone can have less legroom as an option.”

“Some of us are just lucky, well now you’re married into the luck of the Irish.” Curt winked rolling over in bed. “Come here.”

“Should I now?” Ken dropped the paintbrushes in the mason jar of water, swirling it around, turning the water a beautiful soft yellow.

“I’d recommend it.”

Ken smiled standing up off the floor and pulling the sheets off Curt. He leaned down running his cheek up to Curt’s mouth. “God I missed you, Curtie.”

“Missed you, doll face.” Cradling his jaw Curt stared up at his beautiful husband, “Lemme kiss you, come here.”

“Didn’t get enough last night?”

“I’m starving,” Curt mumbled out Ken sinking his lips into him balancing on his knees. The friction of his bare cock against Curt’s chest proved to cause some sort of sensations. Curt raked a hand into Ken’s golden curls tugging gently.

“Must’ve missed me?”

“Like you wouldn’t of fuckin’ believed, Kennie. I scoped out all the best spots in the Airbnb for us.”

“How kind of you,” Ken let out a little chuckle, tipping their foreheads together.

“Are you going to bend me over somewhere?”

“Of course, pretty boy.” Curt slid his hands down Ken’s thin waist to his hips, delivering a gentle squeeze.

“Right now I just want you on my cock, let the birthday boy go for a little ride, hm?” Curt purred, beginning to massage his thumb into Ken’s plump ass.

“Oh, I think I would like that.” Ken leaned over pressing his lips back into Curt’s, rocking his pelvis against his. The feeling of Ken’s perfect, soft skin providing a warm feeling for Curt inside of him.

Curt darted his tongue into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the others. The white gold heat of their dicks rubbing against the other Ken trying to pick up his pace.

“No, no, princess, you have to wait your turn.” Curt scooped up Ken’s hips off of his, the other man jerking forward slightly in Curt’s familiar calloused, rough hands.

“That’s unfair, it’s my birthday.” Ken pushed out his lip, softening his eyes.

“You don’t even want me to finger you?”

“Well…”

Curt snickered, reaching to the bedside table he had already prepared for their get away.

“You really thought ahead.”

“You know I did, sugar.” Curt snatched the travel size bottle of lube, “You want me to go slow, baby?”

“No,” Ken didn’t hesitate watching Curt squeeze out the clear gelish substance onto his fingers.

“Oh you whore, someone really is impatient.” Ken readjusted on his knees then laid his head back against Curt’s chests, “Ready birthday boy?”

“Mhm,” Ken murmured into his chest, feeling Curt’s fingers plunge inside of him with ease.

“Oh, hell.” He pushed his hips back into his fingers.

“Sit still,” Curt barked, pulling his fingers from Ken teasingly.

“Hmm.”

“Come on, pretty boy.”

“Ye…yes sir.”

Curt let his lips split into a small smirk, his cheeks running red hot. God he loved hearing those words leave his pretty, pink lips.

Sucking in a breath, Ken clenched down around Curt’s fingers. fighting everything inside to keep his hips still. Ken wanted to just let Curt hold his fingers there and just let him rock his hips back. Fucking his fingers until he came but that was not the case. Without even thinking Ken pushed his hips back into Curt’s hand just as he began to pick up his pace.

“Someone just can’t wait, can he? You just wanna ride me right now, you slut?” Curt pulled his fingers from Ken fast, whipping them on the sheets. Ken's mouth left slightly agape against Curt’s chest as he’s left empty and horny, “Hm I asked you a question?”

Ken turned a deep red, his cock twitching against Curt’s stomach. “Please, I need you so bad, Curtie.”

“Oh that’s my good boy right there.” Curt rubbed the others' hips, “Come on.”

“Yes, sir.” Ken nodded against his chest, sitting up with his hands resting on Curt’s pecks.

“Ready?”

“Mhm.”

Ken sat up on his knees letting Curt line him up perfectly with his entrance. The moment he felt his tip enter him he immediately lost it. Four days without Curtis Biddicks cock was some other worldly hell for him.

“Oh you feel amazing, darlin’.” Curt whined out grabbing onto Ken immediately as he began moving himself on his cock, “You’re such a gorgeous boy my beautiful, beautiful angel.” Curt stared up at the halo of morning sun swirling around Ken’s curls. Curt left a hand on his hips sliding his hand grabbing onto his cock.

“Oh hell,” Ken almost tumbled forward onto Curt but quickly caught himself on the bed frame.

“Must’a really liked that one?”

“Yes, sir.”

Curt let a wide, curling, devious smile enter into jerking his hand up on Ken’s cock again, “Oh, oh.” Ken stuttered out pushing a hand out against the bed frame.

“Mhm, you like that you little slut?” Curt growled pushing his hips into Ken’s as he sank down again. Ken threw his head back with a grunt as he finally let his body collapse forward onto Curt. His forearms resting on his chest, rocking his ass back and forth in attempted movements.

“Oh my god…Curt.” Ken whimpered into his chest, mouthing at him and nipping, his hips rocking. Curt almost balls deep inside of him right when he felt Curt hit his spot, “Please keep going. Mhm…”

“Oh you asked so nicely for it, who am I to deny you your orgasm?” Curt bucked his hips up causing Ken to feel the white, hot tension in his stomach tighten arching his back as he clenched his teeth together. “Come on, let me see your pretty eyes.”

Ken pushed his hips back hard as Curt grabbed Ken’s jaw forcing him to make eye contact. “So fuckin’ gorgeous and it’s all just for me, yeah?”

“Yes, Curtie. Oh my god.” Ken could barely form words moving his hips back and forth his cock in Curt’s hand. The white substance seeped from his tip, “m’ so close, daddy.”

“What was that, baby?”

“Daddy, I’m so close.” Ken felt the hot tears pricking his eyes, grabbing onto Curt’s shoulders and smashing his face into his collarbone.

“Do you want me to,”

“Please, oh my god, please!” Ken cut him off sinking his nails into his shoulders leaving little crescent moon indents.

“Cum for me you beautiful little whore.” Curt growled into Ken’s ear, the other releasing all over his hand, his body going rigid.

“I fucking love you, Kenny.” Curt murmured, filling Ken with the warm substance, Ken repeatedly clenching down into him his mouth agape. Ken laid on Curt’s chest while he rode out the aftershocks, Ken slowly mouthing at Curt his pink lips making a soft hum against him.

“I love you too,” Ken smiled. He felt literal euphoria. The sun lightening them golden, Curt’s soft skin on his cheek, and his big calloused hands on his hips. He felt like he was in heaven and he wanted to stay here forever.

Then the loud howling from outside the door started, “It’s your turn to let him out.”

“It’s my birthday!” Ken broke a wide smile on his cheeks and gently slapped Curt’s chest. He rolled off of Curt and watched him sit up and grab for his prosthetic. “Thank you.”

“Hm?” Curt turned, raising an eyebrow at Ken.

“For the sex.”

“It’s your first birthday present,” Curt stepped into his prosthetic and placed a kiss on Ken’s forehead.

“Well, unless it’s Barry Keoghan I don’t know if anything will be better than that…” Ken rested a hand on his chest and held a hand out for Curt.

“I can do the impression but I don’t see the resemblance.” Curt kissed Ken’s knuckles and grabbed for his boxers. Ken started giggling but quickly interrupted by Humvee starting his barking again.

“I’ll be right there Hums.” Curt tripped over himself putting on the boxers and caught that door handle before he could fall.

“Be careful.”

“Love you, oh and.” Curt stopped leaning on the door frame and tapped it, “Happy birthday my angel.”

#masters of the air #mota #curt lost his leg in this au bc military #instead of dying guys!!!#hs au #but they’re grown up #modern au #curtis biddick #ken lemmons #curtis/lemmons #curtis x lemmons #humvee the dog #ken has a daddy kink

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historical-fangirl · 1 month

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War Paint (Masters of the Air OC)

Introducing First Sergeant Annie Park of the Women's Army Corps. Korean-American, originally from Honolulu, Hawai'i, and newly twenty-one in August 1943, she works as a control tower operator at Thorpe Abbotts.

I was not planning on unveiling a MotA OC this early on, but Annie grabbed me by the arm and would not let me go. Please enjoy this short bit of fluff, and let me know if you'd like to see more of her!

England

August 1943

Annie stubbornly ignored the trickle of sweat which ran from her neck down her shoulder blades to the small of her back as she bent over the nose of the B-17. Though the day was hot, perhaps the hottest one since she’d arrived in England that spring, she reminded herself as her paintbrush glided across the bomber’s metal surface that she’d frequently endured far hotter back home. Better to finish this quickly and spend the rest of her day off with her feet up and a bottle of Coca-Cola in hand than to gripe about the heat and throw in the towel now.

With one last brushstroke, she neatly filled in the last bomb silhouette and leaned back to survey her work. The bright yellow mission markers still needed to be outlined in black so that they would really stand out, but she could do that later once the paint had dried in the afternoon sun. For now, she was satisfied.

“No pin-ups today?” a voice called out, causing Annie to startle and nearly fall from the ladder she was standing on. Taking a deep breath as she steadied herself, she threw a glare over her shoulder at the offending man.

“Dammit, Lemmons, do you sneak up on everyone like that? Or am I just special?”

Ken Lemmons grinned as he walked across the hardstand towards her, hands in his pockets and looking infuriatingly casual. “Of course you’re special, Park. I thought you knew that already.” As he reached the base of the ladder, he extended a hand up to her. “Ma’am.”

Annie rolled her eyes as she took the hand he offered, nimbly jumping down to eye level with him. “You better not have come to tear up my hard work. The paint’s not even dry yet.”

Ken shook his head, a smile still tugging at his lips. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I was just taking a walk and saw you hard at work. Figured I’d check up on the grand artiste and her latest muse.”

“No new muse today, I’m afraid,” Annie replied, reaching into her pocket for a rag to wipe the paint off her hands with. “Our Baby flew two missions this past week, so Captain DeMarco asked me to update her mission markers.”

“They’re getting quite a few up there,” Ken said, inclining his head towards the airplane. “Looks like you’ll be busy for a while longer.”

“I hope so.” Annie nodded, suddenly feeling very solemn. Ken sobered as well, looking down at his feet for a moment. Then he cleared his throat and wiped his brow with the back of his hand exaggeratedly.

“Whew, it sure is a hot one today. I don’t know about you, but I thought that England was all cold and rain before I got here. Guess not.”

Annie smiled and shook her head. “Oh please. I’m sure it’s much hotter than this in Arkansas.”

“I know it’s much hotter than this in Hawaii,” Ken retorted. “What do y’all do to beat the heat over there?”

“We sip pineapple juice from coconuts while relaxing on the beach, of course. Everybody knows that.”

“Oh, of course, my mistake.” Ken put up his hands in mock surrender. “Well, I haven’t seen any pineapples or coconuts around here lately, but we could probably find some lemonade. What do you say?”

“Lead on.”

#writing #my writing #fanfiction #historical fanfiction #masters of the air #masters of the air fanfiction #masters of the air oc #ocs #my ocs #ken lemmons #annie park

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wildernessjournals · 3 years

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Color variation of Lemmon’s Painbrush. High Meadow near Three Island Lake, John Muir Wilderness, Sierra Nevada Mountains, California, USA. Photos by Van Miller

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magnoliahumanities-blog · 5 years

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Magnolia Lemmon

Mrs. Miller

Art Humanities A

8 April 2019

Renoir

Pierre Auguste Renoir is a French artist born in Limoges, France in 1821. He grew up in a middle class family that worked at a porcelain factory where he started his artistic journey painting fine China. He also painted hangings for missionaries and fans. In 1862 he studied under Charles Gleyre and in 1864 exhibited his first paintings in Paris Salon. During the Paris Commune in 1871 Renoir painted near the banks of the Seine River where he was mistaken as a spy and almost throw into the river. His fame began in 1874 when he exhibited six impressive paintings that lead him to be in popular demand. He even painted composer Richard Wagner, and just in 35 minutes. In his maturity he married Aline Victorine Charigot, who he had three sons with. One of these sons became a filmmaker and the other an actor. His family life lead to him painting scenes of daily life, like his kids playing or wife in the garden. In 1892 Renoir developed rheumatoid arthritis that grew to the point where he needed a paintbrush to be strapped to his paralyzed fingers in order to paint. He died in Cannes-Sur-Mer, France on December third of 1919.

Renoir is known for his colorful impressionist paintings of Parisian modernity and daily life. He had a special talent for capturing movement and shadow which can be seen in many of his paintings of bustling city scenes. Bal du moulin de la Galette, his most famous work, was painted in 1876 and renders street fair where middle class people dance, drink and eat. “Renoir was the first Impressionist to perceive the potential limitations of an art based primarily on optical sensation and light effects. ... Renoir's example became indispensable for the major French movements of high modernism: Fauvism and Cubism.”

The style of impressionism that he used has several defining techniques for example, visible brushstrokes, optical mixing, no black, and an ordinary subject matter which all helped to create a dreamy and unrealistic look. I tried to incorporate these techniques into my art piece and especially focused on optical mixing. My painting, of a single pink rose, uses optical mixing because I used dark blue to create the illusion of depth in the petals and the appearance of a cylindrical stem. At first I was very hesitant to add a color that appeared to just not fit in, but as soon as I added the blue I was fascinated to find that it looked completely natural. I think I will even use this technique in the future, because I found that it adds a whole nother layer of texture that I didn’t know was possible. To be true to the impressionist style, I refrained from using black and didnt premix my colors before applying them to the canvas. I attempted to use short and visible brushstrokes, but it didn’t work very well for me.

Renoir is an exceptional artist whose artwork simply makes me smile because of it joyful and colorful nature, which is why I picked him. I am also fascinated by the idea of your eye mixing colors and being able to make shapes out of blocky, blob-like brushstrokes.

Works Cited

“Biography of Pierre Auguste Renoir.” Pierre Auguste Renoir - The Complete Works - Biography, www.pierre-auguste-renoir.org/biography.html.

“Pierre-Auguste Renoir Paintings, Bio, Ideas.” The Art Story, www.theartstory.org/artist-renoir-pierre-auguste.htm.

“Pierre-Auguste Renoir.” Artble, 19 July 2017, www.artble.com/artists/pierre-auguste_renoir#followers.

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