#*when I get back (cut myself there oops) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

plethorawrites · 6 months ago

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ahh your recent clark kent drabble has me so dizzy ,, him begging you not to make noise and he’d probably force his fingers into your mouth, down your throat, your little gags probably wouldn’t be much better, but better for him than hearing your moans 😩

MY PHONE FLEWWW FROM MY HAND WHEN I SAW THIS!!! But I absolutely see the vision! (This was longer and more explicit than planned. Oops? If anyone asks, I didn't write this and if you know me irl... please alert me so I can off myself)

Clark Kent, who adores having that little loft space in the barn because it's the perfect quiet spot for you and him to spend time together when his parents are home or you just don't want to risk getting caught. His couch is pretty comfortable too, so when he lays you down on it, it's more than enough space for you, even if he's barely able to fit on top of you.

It's usually peaceful, the two of you with just just enough privacy to make some noise without getting caught and just enough lack of it to add to the thrill of being in front of an open barn window while you're vertical. Despite not really fitting on it, he wouldn't dare complain when he had you laying under him, your legs intertwined with his, head tilted back against the arm rest as you held onto his neck.

If freezing time was one of his powers, he'd use it right then and there to memorize everything about this moment—your open lips, which were puffy from him biting on them and the bruises darkening on your neck as the seconds passed. The messy strands of your hair sticking to your face, which was flushed and glowing in the dim lighting. It's like his own persona heaven.

Or, it was, until he heard the barn door slide open.

He'd tried to stop, when he heard it, honestly, he did. Clark could see your eyes snap open, panic replacing your bliss, and wanted desperately to make you go back to babbling his name again. But considering his dad was below them, searching for something, that seemed like a bad idea.

After a few moments of complete stillness, he couldn't handle it anymore, and regardless of the risk, held your hips as he slowly went back to what he was doing, thrusting in and out of you. His teeth sink into his bottom lip, eyes trained on you as you try, very weakly to quietly argue with him about pausing and getting dressed, but before your argument even fully leaves your lips it's cut off with a whimper.

He shushes you, his eyes getting serious the way they sometimes did when something was important to him. One of his hands left your hips to readjust the blanket that was loosely draped over both of your waists and thighs, bringing you a tad of comfort before another, much louder moan, left your lips.

His hand immediately went to your mouth, his teeth clenching as he panted heavily, pressing his face to your neck, sucking another hickey on it, before pulling away to look at you. Your eyes met his for a moment before they rolled back and your spine arched a bit.

"You're getting there, aren't you?" You whispered in your ear, feeling you fall apart for him. "Go ahead," he encouraged. "Just stay quiet." His hand dug further into your hip and another of your whines was absorbed by his hand. "Shhh, quiet," he said again. "You gotta be careful."

You were trying. Honestly.

You could hear his dad throwing boxes around, looking for something and struggling to find it. He pulled your leg up, wrapping it around his waist and the movement, the way you could feel him so much better made another, much louder moan leave your lips.

Clark winced, pressing his face to your neck to muffle himself as his hand pushed harder against your lips. Your hand gripped his wrist tightly and he cursed under his breath. "I know, I know you don't like having your mouth covered, I'm sorry," he apologized, kissing your cheek. "It's just for a little bit."

You shook your head weakly, protesting and he gritted his teeth, his head swimming as he tried to balance too many thoughts at once. His hand left your mouth, two of his fingers pushing past your lips. "Is this better?" He asked, panting against your neck as his fingers pressed down on your tongue, sliding into the back of your throat, making you gag.

The sound made him moan, and he buried his face against your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo for a moment. Your hand dragged down his back, and his head fell, pressing his forehead to your shoulder for a moment.

"That's it," he praised, his fingers sliding in and out of your mouth, exploring it. "So much quieter like this." Some box went thud against the floor below but all he cared about was the feeling of your tongue under the pads of his fingertips as they pushed towards the back of your throat, eliciting little gags from you. He lifted his head, kissing your forehead, your temple, your cheek, your jaw, your neck.

Clark's teeth sink into your shoulder as he reaches his climax, trying to keep himself as quiet as possible by biting down on your flesh, the sharp canine teeth causing you to yelp. His fingers forced their way so far back in your throat you felt like you were choking, but it successfully stole the sound of pain from your mouth.

His teeth left your skin after a moment and he soothed the area with his tongue, before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "You're doing so well for me," he promised you, his fingers messaging your tongue as he felt your body go rigid under him. "Just like that, sweetheart. Keep gagging for me."

The next sound to leave your mouth was the loudest, but once again, his fingers swallowed the noise before it even left your mouth. They scraped the back of your throat, tears pricked in your eyes as you gagged, your entire body tensing up before going completely slack.

His fingers gently slid back out of your mouth and laid his head on your shoulder as his entire weight slowly crushed you. He buried his face in your neck, his hands finding your hair and threading through the locks.

"You're perfect," he mumbles, gently massaging your scalp, pushing your hair around, tangling it. "So damn perfect," he repeated again, out of breath and exhausted as he placed another kiss to your neck.

#headcanon #x reader #dc comics #clark kent x reader #clark kent imagine #smallville clark kent #clark kent smut #clark kent #clark kent x you #clark kent x female reader #smallville #smallville x reader #plethorawrites #clark kent smallville

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kxsagi · 2 months ago

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hiiii

can u make blue lock boys with a s/o who tries to be as quiet and never really expresses her opinion during an argument, but starts crashing out when she's at home/alone 😛😛

LOVE YOUR WORKS BY THE WAYYYY

"𝐭𝐬 𝐩𝐦𝐨 🥀"

a/n: reader is me i fear

AND THANK YOUUUUUU!!!

ft. itoshi rin, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, karasu tabito, ness alexis, isagi yoichi, kaiser michael, shidou ryusei, itoshi sae

itoshi rin

you and him are both quiet in public, so he thinks you’re twinsies in social apathy.

“don’t say anything, it’s not worth it,” he mutters. and you nod all calm like “yeah.”

but when you’re home? OH.

you throw your bag down like it's a dead body and start barking: “OH MY GOSH IF I HEAR ‘IT’S JUST MY OPINION’ ONE MORE TIME I’M GONNA LAUNCH MYSELF INTO ONCOMING TRAFFIC.”

rin freezes mid sip of water like you just spoke in tongues. “wait. who is this demon i brought into my house.”

you slam your phone on the bed: “I WISH I COULD FIGHT PEOPLE THROUGH TEXT.”

rin’s like “you need to go outside.”

after the third time this happens, he stops letting arguments slide. he just starts solving them ON THE SPOT because he knows if you bottle it up again, he’ll have to survive another 30-minute monologue about some guy who “walked with too much confidence for someone with that haircut.”

nagi seishiro

does not notice your inner rage until he walks in on you kicking a stuffed animal while whisper-screaming “DIEEEE YOU EGOISTIC PUNK.”

stands there scratching his head like, “uhhh. you good?”

you start unloading a rant about a barista who said “no problem” instead of “you’re welcome,” and he’s just watching you like a confused cat.

“so like… do you want me to fight them? or just listen?”

you start acting out the entire scene with voice impressions like, “‘next!’ no ma’am, how about NEXT time you respect basic customer service etiquette–”

nagi goes “damn. that’s kinda fire.”

starts encouraging it. “yeah babe, get mad. do the voice again. the evil barista one. that’s my favorite.”

fully believes your rants are better than any anime. once got mad when you didn’t go off. “what do you mean you’re calm today? but i made popcorn.”

mikage reo

LOVES the duality.

when you’re being all polite in public, he’s whispering in your ear like “do it. DESTROY THEM. go for the jugular.”

and you just smile and say, “it’s okay! mistakes happen :)”

cut to 9:13 PM and you’re in his penthouse pacing like a man possessed. “OH REALLY?? MISTAKES HAPPEN?? THEN LET ME MISTAKE-FULLY THROW A CHAIR AT YOU.”

reo is wheezing. he’s filming you. adding background music. making edits.

he even starts giving you imaginary awards like, “ladies and gentlemen… BEST DRAMATIC RANT OF THE YEAR GOES TO–”

you once threatened to fight a man for wearing flip-flops indoors and reo started crying from laughter.

wants to get you on reality TV. he thinks your angry alter ego could win a whole season without leaving camp.

karasu tabito

absolutely lives for your inner beast.

in public, you’re all quiet and sweet and he’s like, “she’s such a lil angel 🥰”

but then later he hears you go “I WILL DIG HIS FUTURE, PRESENT, AND PAST SELF OUT OF EXISTENCE,” and he’s like “NEVERMIND. SHE’S A DEMON.”

laughs his ass off while you’re slamming cabinet doors.

you’re like “this is why his hairline is running away from his eyebrows. IDIOT.”

karasu: “BAAAAABEEE PLEASEEEE 😭😭”

starts intentionally causing mild public inconveniences just so he can watch the rant later. “oops, i accidentally knocked over her coffee. oops, someone cut in line.”

this man is sick. he’s got a NOTES APP of your most iconic lines.

ness alexis

absolutely terrified the first time he sees it.

you’re sweet and reserved in public, but then later you’re storming around your bedroom like: “NOOOO BECAUSE I HELD BACK SO MUCH– IF I HAD A SHOVEL AND DIPLOMATIC IMMUNITY I WOULD HAVE–”

ness pokes his head in like “h-hey baby, you okay–”

“SHHHH I’M MID RANT.”

man shuts the door like he just walked in on a crime scene.

now he just peeks in with snacks and goes “you want emotional support chocolate? ice cream? maybe a hug and a punching bag?”

scared you might start roasting HIM one day, so he starts keeping receipts just in case you snap and go “REMEMBER WHEN YOU ATE MY FRIES THAT ONE HUMID NIGHT.”

but also? kinda proud.

“she may be quiet… but she’s a warrior. just needs a private arena to unleash the fury. maybe a rage room is better.”

isagi yoichi

during arguments, you're standing there looking like the human version of an unsalted cracker.

"it’s fine. no big deal,” you whisper, while isagi is next to you mentally going, “she’s soooo cool under pressure omg she’s my strong silent queen 😩”

WRONG.

10 minutes after y’all get home, you’re in the kitchen like: “NO BECAUSE IF HE BREATHED ANY LOUDER I WAS GONNA STUFF A SOCK DOWN HIS THROAT–”

you're mimicking the whole conversation, hands on your hips, pacing like a mom yelling about bad report cards.

isagi is watching from the couch like it’s a documentary. “so this is what she’s like when the polite filter turns off…”

you throw a fork across the sink and go “AND ANOTHER THING!!”

he flinches. “another thing??? there’s MORE???”

now he straight up brings popcorn to your post-argument breakdowns. even got a playlist for it: ‘angry girlfriend showtime vol.3’

kaiser michael

he thinks you're classy. elegant. above it all.

like, “oh wow, my girlfriend doesn’t even need to raise her voice, she wins arguments with a look.”

yeah well. wait until he hears you alone in the kitchen popping off like it’s an unscripted drama.

“THEY WANNA PLAY STUPID GAMES? THEN THEY BETTER BE READY FOR STUPID PRIZES–”

kaiser peeks around the corner like 👁️👄👁️ “who… the hell… are you???”

you’re out here holding a hairbrush like a mic, screaming at the air. “AND ANOTHER THING: WHAT TYPE OF NAME IS THAT ANYWAY. SOUNDS LIKE A YOGURT FLAVOR.”

he deadass chokes on his mineral water.

he’s torn between fear and admiration.

“i’m dating someone who bottles rage like champagne and explodes behind closed doors. incredible. terrifying.”

but don’t get it twisted, he starts triggering it for sport.

he’ll say some dumb shit like, “maybe they were right, you were being a little sensitive,” and then stand back like he just lit a firecracker.

kaiser 10 minutes later, filming you storming around the room with full captions and a laugh filter: “and this, my friends, is why i never cheat. she’d destroy me in 7 dimensions.”

shidou ryusei

he’s the exact opposite of you.

like, in the moment of confrontation, he's already taking off his shirt and saying “let's settle this in the PARKING LOT.”

and you’re just there holding his sleeve like, “let’s not… it’s okay…”

“no, it’s not okay, babe. i saw the micro-expression on your face. you wanted blood. i could feel it.”

“nah ryu, i’m chill.”

cut to 12 minutes later when you two get home and you’re doing WWE monologues in the mirror like: “IF I WAS BUILT DIFFERENT, HE WOULDN’T HAVE TEETH RIGHT NOW.”

shidou walks in halfway through and SCREAMS.

“OH MY GOSH YOU DO WANT VIOLENCE. BITCH I’M SO TURNED ON.”

now he purposely instigates people in public just to see if it’ll get you to crack.

“watch this babe, i’m gonna push his buttons.”

you remain silent.

later that night though: “he was chewing with his mouth open, and i swear to the heavens, ryu, i almost inhaled a fork just to end it all–”

“I KNEW IT. I KNEW YOU WERE A FERAL LITTLE BEAST.”

itoshi sae

this man is ICE COLD. he barely talks in arguments and honestly, he thought your silence was just... normal.

“hm. she’s like me. emotionally done with everyone.”

but BOY was he mistaken.

the first time he catches you mid-breakdown, it’s because he walks in early from practice and hears something like: “NO BECAUSE IF SHE BREATHES NEAR ME AGAIN I’M GONNA CALL THE IRS ON HER.”

sae freezes in the hallway like you just summoned a demon.

you’re pacing in socks and a hoodie, dragging a blanket around like a cape, arms flailing as you imitate every dumb sentence said during the earlier argument.

“‘i didn’t mean it that way’ THEN IN WHAT WAY DID YOU MEAN IT?? TELEPATHICALLY???”

sae just turns around and leaves the room. comes back three minutes later with a drink.

“so we’re doing this now? okay. continue.”

literally just sits there while you explode, nodding like it’s a business meeting.

“mhm. right. yeah she was dumb.”

but later in bed when you’re calm, he’ll whisper: “you know you scared me a little back there. but… kinda hot.”

you look at him. “i blacked out. what did i say?”

“something about mailing someone’s eyebrows to the moon.”

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littlexdeaths · 1 year ago

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she fuckin’ hates me - e.m.

enemy eddie munson x fem reader x crush steve harrington

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: hate fucking, semi-public sex, mean!dom eddie (he’s secretly down so bad), fingering, they both call each names (slut, brat, asshole, dickhead), big dick eddie, unprotected piv sex (the condom breaks oops), unintentional cream pie, little sprinkle of angst

a/n: this is entirely inspired by that one audio by eyesofsuggestion (getting hate fucked on your crushes bed by his best friend).

word count: 3.5k

also huge shoutout to both @strangerstilinski and @uglypastels for helping me so much. i appreciate the hell out of you both. and also to @lesservillain for giving me the condom idea. enjoy my lil freaks xx.

“Looks like someone’s not enjoying the party…”

You barely register his deep voice over the thumping bass from inside the house when you stomp out onto the patio.

The night air feels nearly as sticky as inside the house, the amount of bodies pressing together causing the temperature to skyrocket.

But the moment you see his lanky figure leaning against the side of Steve’s house and the burning cherry of his cigarette in the dark— you’re half tempted to turn around.

You were already having a terrible night to begin with but you weren’t about to let Eddie Munson make it any worse for you. Knowing this was partially his fault to begin with.

“What‘s it to you, Munson?” you spit.

His answering chuckle has you gritting your teeth, tucking your skirt under yourself as you sit on the patio steps.

“Oh nothing…” he hums, taking another long drag from his cigarette. “It’s just hard not to notice how you’ve been throwing yourself at Steve all night.”

While you hate to admit it, and you wouldn’t out loud— Eddie was right.

You’d gone out of your way to pretty yourself up for him, wearing your lowest cut blouse and your shortest skirt in hopes of getting his attention. You stayed by his side, laughed at all his jokes. Despite all the effort you put in, Steve barely spared you a passing glance.

It was such a total switch from how he was acting towards you the previous weekend. Steve had barely got you in his bedroom before his hands were in your pants. But now he was too busy shoving his tongue down a pretty blonde’s throat to even notice your absence.

“I haven’t been throwing myself at anyone, dickhead,” you roll your eyes with a scoff.

Eddie just laughs again, leaning his head back against the siding. “I wouldn’t have assumed Steve’s dick game was so good that you’d be crawling back for sloppy seconds.”

And when you turn to glare at him, you can’t help but admire the way the smoke unfurls from his plump lips.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, prick.”

“— Hey now,” he mocked you with a slight pout, “Don’t take your sexual frustration out on me, princess. I was just stating the obvious.”

You avert your eyes before he catches you staring, but that frustration mixed with unkindled desire continues to mount between you with each passing second.

So when your eyes are drawn back to him, you aren’t entirely sure why.

As annoying as Eddie could be, you can’t deny that he was attractive. And if his shitty attitude towards you wasn’t the reason that Steve kept blowing you off, maybe you’d actually like him.

“Oh, fuck you.”

“— you’d like that wouldn’t you?” he teases.

While your face shows mock disgust, your body betrays you when you feel wetness beginning to pool in the fabric of your panties.

“In your dreams, Munson.”

Eddie smirks a little, taking that as a challenge.

“What are you, scared?”

Under normal circumstances, you’d tell him to fuck off and leave you alone. Perhaps it was your hormones getting the best of you.

But there was something about the way the moonlight catches on his rings, and the pale glow that casts shadows over his handsome features— that’s making you think otherwise.

“I mean… I don’t see anyone else lining up to take that bratty ass of yours home.” Eddie takes one last, long drag but this time he notices the way your eyes linger on his lips.

You make it almost too easy.

“And it would be a damn shame to let all that hard work of yours go to waste, you know?” he continues casually while he snuffs out his cigarette. “Since Harrington, clearly isn’t appreciating it.”

And you really can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Eddie closes the remaining distance between you, causing your head to tilt back as you look up at him in utter disbelief.

“Don’t act so coy, I saw how you were looking at me just now…”

Beneath his cocky demeanor, his heart is about to pound out of his chest.

Because unbeknownst to you, the real reason Steve was avoiding you at every turn was entirely for Eddie's benefit. He was just trying to be a good friend.

Eddie holds up his hand before you can say anything else, his lips lifting in a shit eating grin.

“Besides, we both know that if it’s not for me, you’ll be going home with an empty cunt. And we can’t have that, can we?”

Your body flushes at the vulgarity of his words, but you mull them over nonetheless.

While you didn’t like him, despised him in fact— this could be an opportunity to get some pent up frustration out of your system. Since it was clear Steve wasn’t up for the challenge.

So you tuck your lower lip in between your teeth and you rise to your feet.

“Fine,” you hum and there’s a sudden flash of surprise in his eyes. Like he half expected you to tell him to go fuck himself and storm off, but it’s gone just as quickly. “On one condition.”

The patio steps put you an inch or so above him, so now he has to look up to meet your gaze.

“Oh, yeah? And what’s that, princess?” he smirks.

You grip the fabric of his t-shirt in your fists, urging him closer. You can feel the heat radiating from him, your breasts now flush against his chest.

“You keep that big mouth of yours shut.”

And you use the advantage of your slight height difference to press your lips to his before he has a chance to respond.

Eddie all but groans into your mouth as tugs you closer, hands gripping onto your hips before splaying over the curve of your ass. When he slips his tongue in your mouth, he tastes like a dizzying combination of nicotine and cheap beer.

But the taste somehow leaves you wanting more.

So when you start to grind yourself onto his jean-clad thigh, he sinks his teeth into your lower lip. The male fully enjoys the pitiful whimper it pulls from you.

“If you think I’m fucking you out here… you’re out of your goddamn mind,” he pants into your open mouth.

“Well if you had somewhere else in mind maybe you should try taking the reins, hotshot,” you fire back.

Eddie takes a single step up the stairs to place himself at eye level with you, as if to even the playing field.

And you just stare at each other, both your eyes are ablaze with a mixture of annoyance and lust. It's Eddie who eventually breaks your gaze to brush past you and continue on towards the house.

He dares a glance over his shoulder once he reaches the patio door, a brow rising beneath his bangs as if to give you one final chance to back out. But you don’t want to give him that satisfaction.

No one spares either of you a second glance when he leads you up the stairs and pulls you into the first bedroom on the right.

You know upon entering that this is Steve’s room, recognizing the checkered wallpaper from the weekend prior. But you don’t have much time to dwell on it before his lips are back on yours and he’s leading you towards his best friend’s bed.

“In here?” you say between heated kisses, earning you a deep hum when he pushes you down onto the mattress.

“What Steve doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?” he mused, dark eyes admiring the way your skirt has risen up your thighs. “Unless… you really wanna make him jealous.”

Eddie crawls over you after shrugging off his leather jacket and you can already feel how hard he is through the rough denim. You tug harshly on his hair when his lips trail down across your neck, teeth scraping against the hollow of your throat.

But the ache between your thighs only becomes stronger with each press of his lips, and in turn causes your already thin patience to slip further.

“Get on with it already, I don’t have all damn night.”

You can feel his laughter vibrate against your sweaty skin but his hand dips between your thighs nonetheless. Eddie cups your clothed pussy in the palm of his hand, pulling a breathy whine from you when he presses the heel of it against your clit.

“Hmm, givin' an awful lot of attitude to someone who's just tryin’ to do you a favor, sweetheart.”

You merely roll your eyes in response, reaching between your bodies to palm over the bulge that’s straining against the fly of his jeans.

“Huh, seems to me that you like my little attitude, asshole.”

The male groans into your neck when you apply more pressure, his hand quickly gripping onto your wrist before he pins the both of them above your head.

“Ya’know I usually love a bit of a challenge, but you sweetheart, are a giant pain in the ass.”

You giggle mockingly, tilting your head at him with a slight pout, “Aww, Eddie— I didn’t know you thought so highly of me.”

If only you knew…

That laughter morphs into a soft gasp when he yanks your panties down your thighs with his other hand. Those calloused fingers slipping between your slick folds to circle over your swollen bud.

His nose skims along the curve of your shoulder, greedily inhaling your perfume. Enjoying the way your body practically shudders beneath his own.

“So sensitive…” he coos mockingly, the tip of his middle finger brushing over your puckered hole. “And I’ve barely even touched you yet.”

Any snarky comment dies on your tongue when he slips the digit inside, his thumb pressing firmly on your clit. A small mewl gets caught in your throat when he slides another finger in and your body welcomes the stretch.

Eddie can only grin wider when you grind your hips down onto his fingers, his other hand releases your wrists to tug down the front of your blouse to free your breasts. He has to hold back a moan of his own when he realizes you aren’t wearing a bra, his lips latching around your nipple.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, your fingers tangling themselves in his wild mane while his curl up inside you.

“If only Steve could see how much of a fucking mess you’re making for me,” he taunts, leaning his mouth down to suck on the underside of your breast. “Bet he’d be so pissed that you’re ruining his expensive sheets, sweetheart.”

Your answering whimper has him chuckling, urging him to thrust his fingers even faster inside you. Ultimately proving his point as you can feel the wetness dripping down your ass and onto the sheets. But the noisy glide of his fingers are nearly as taunting as his words.

“E-Eddie— I…” your chest heaves as you trail off, feeling that rubber band in your middle about to snap with each pump of his fingers.

He knows what that blissful look on your face means and it brings him a little too much pleasure to see it crumble when he completely removes his fingers from inside you. Your cry of frustration has his cock practically throbbing in his jeans, sticky fingers hurrying to unbuckle his belt.

“Nah uh,” he tuts. “You don’t always get what you want, brat.”

Eddie pushes his jeans and boxers far enough down his thighs to free his cock, the sight of it momentarily distracting you.

He was big, much bigger than you anticipated.

Part of you was almost worried he wasn’t going to fit. Eddie must see the mixture of surprise and awe written across your features, as he leans forward to swipe his thumb along the corner of your mouth.

“Drooling already? You flatter me, sweetheart.”

He reaches over for a condom in Steve’s bedside drawer, ripping the packet open with his teeth. But Eddie can practically see the flash of disappointment in your eyes when he rolls the latex on, which only causes him to laugh harder.

“Oh how cute, you thought I was gonna fill you up, baby?” he all but sneers as he grabs your cheeks in his hand, squishing them together. “A slut like you has to earn that privilege.”

He lets go of your cheeks, ringed fingers spreading your thighs apart and pulling you down toward the edge of the mattress. Positioning you in just the right spot so he can tap the head of his cock against your clit.

The wet slapping noise it makes has him grinning even wider and it takes everything in you not to slap that look right off his face.

“Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna actually fuck me?” you huff.

He tilts his head at you, a little surprised by your sudden outburst. And to think you were being so good just a minute ago.

“See, that’s not what we’re going to do, brat.” He clicks his tongue, his other hand gripping the meat of your thighs a little harder. “Keep giving me that attitude and I’ll have no issue walking out of here and burying my cock into someone else.”

You just glare at each other, in a silent struggle for power. But this time you are the first to crack when you cast your eyes downward. That uncomfortable silence stretches on for a moment too long, which he mistakes for regret.

He’s about to tuck himself back into his jeans when you grip onto his wrist with a soft whine.

“N-No, shit— please don’t go.”

Eddie just raises an eyebrow at you, not impressed by that meek attempt at begging. So you blow out the breath you were holding, swallowing your pride when your eyes flick up to meet his.

“I want you to fuck me, Eddie. Please.”

You feel incredibly pathetic begging Eddie Munson of all people. But you also can’t deny the way your cunt practically throbs when you feel the thick head of his cock glide against your entrance.

“See? Now was that so hard?” he snickers, giving you no warning before he’s guiding the head inside your sopping cunt.

“Jesus— fuck, you’re tight,” he blurts, marveling as your pussy practically sucks him in.

You let out a gasp when he bottoms out with a low hiss, his own head tipping backwards when you clench harder around him. But the male doesn’t move a muscle, his hands gripping onto your hips to keep you in place.

An act of mercy really— he doesn’t want to hurt you.

While you are grateful for the reprieve, that slight sting soon fades into a dull ache and you desperately need more.

When Eddie feels you start to squirm in his grasp, he groans low in his throat. His head tips back down to meet your half lidded gaze while he carefully guides his cock out before sliding it back in.

He works up a steady rhythm, but slow enough to keep you both teetering on the edge of desperation— until you can’t take it anymore.

“God— go faster,” your attempt at a direct order comes out as more a breathy plea instead.

But he doesn’t need to be told twice, his hands coaxing your trembling legs over his shoulders before slamming his hips back into yours. An elated moan leaves your lips, fingers gripping onto the sheets as you eagerly meet each hard thrust he gives you.

“It’s too bad Harrington’s missin’ out on all this,” he grunts, his eyes darkening as he watches that creamy ring around his cock expand with each snap of his hips. “But I can put in a really good word for ya, princess.”

And when your eyes roll back, it’s not from annoyance this time— as he hits your sweet spot dead on.

“I hate you,” you huff regardless, but your words don’t hold nearly as much malice.

“You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

You miss the smug look that crosses his features when your back arches up off the mattress and you cry out his name repeatedly.

“That’s it, brat— say my name louder. Let them know… let Steve know who’s making you feel this good.”

Your nails dig into his forearms as he fucks you even faster, a low growl pushing past his lips with each hard thrust. The bed creaks harshly in protest but that doesn’t deter him in the slightest.

If anything— it encourages him to go harder, bucking into you like some wild animal. The little uh, uh uh’s that he pushes out of you are music to his ears, the sounds becoming higher in pitch the closer you get to the edge.

And when your eyes flutter shut, he only quickened his pace. The brunette practically bends you in half as he leans into you, this new angle forcing him even deeper.

“Look.” Grunt. “At.” Grunt. “Me.” Grunt.

In your blissed out state, you miss the hidden meaning behind his pointed words.

When you manage to finally open them, he’s closer. A lot closer than you expected. So close you can see the flecks of gold in his eyes, and the sweat that dots his upper lip.

Maybe you’ve never wanted to admit it to yourself before, but Eddie really was gorgeous. And from the way he’s gazing down at you, pupils blown out and glassy, you can only assume he feels the same about you.

And that last bit of self control slips when you smash your lips together.

He kisses you back just as forcefully, effectively stealing the air from your lungs. Gasping for breath, your fingers begin to loosen their grip on his arm. Slipping them between your bodies to rub quick circles over your swollen bud.

The sensation has your walls squeezing tighter around him, earning you another throaty moan.

“See how much easier you are to deal with like this, baby?” He mumbles against your mouth, enjoying the small scowl that crosses over your features. “All cockdrunk and stupid… it suits you.”

While you open your mouth to throw one last insult his way, a pointed thrust into your sweet spot has you trembling. A loud squeal leaving your lips instead when you tumble over the edge.

And Eddie can’t take his eyes off you as you fall apart beneath him, memorizing each expression with the utmost sincerity. Even if you did hate him, he couldn’t help himself.

“Oh, atta girl…” he praises, his hot breath fanning over your lips while he continues to bury himself inside you.

You feel the sudden snap of the latex before he does. The male blissfully unaware as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and finishes with a deep groan, unintentionally filling you up in the process.

“Hm, guess I got what I wanted after all,” you laugh a little breathlessly.

Eddie lifts his head in confusion, the realization finally dawns on him when he feels his warmth start to trickle down your thighs.

“Shit, shit, shit.” He curses as he pulls out, making an even bigger mess of both you and the sheets in the process.

“Stupid, fucking cheap ass condoms,” he huffs under his breath, chucking the broken rubber into the trash.

Although his jaw is clenched in annoyance, his eyes are now transfixed on where his cum begins to leak out of your puffy pussy and onto the bedspread.

Unable to stop himself, Eddie reaches out a hand to graze along the underside of your ass. He collects some of the mess on his fingertips and guides them back inside you.

And despite the sensitivity, the possessiveness of his actions has your walls clenching around his dexterous fingers.

Everything comes to a sudden halt when the bedroom door swings open, knocking into the wall.

“Alright you horny shits, time to…” Steve trails off once he sees the two of you, honey hues widening in disbelief. “In my bed, Munson? Really?”

Eddie doesn’t bat an eye, merely straightening up from where he was hovering over your half naked form whilst you quickly tug the sheets over yourself from sheer embarrassment.

Now all Eddie can see is the way you're looking at Steve. Something sour settles in his stomach, a tangle of jealousy and hurt. While his heart rate slows, his defenses go back up.

That feeling prickles along his skin as he tucks himself back into his boxers and re-fastens the button on his jeans.

"Was just warmin' her up for ya, man," Eddie says through his teeth.

Steve's look of confusion deepens as he glances between the two of you, knowing that this is exactly what Eddie had wanted.

But now Eddie won’t even look at you.

He doesn't see the conflicted emotions swimming in your eyes when he speaks again. Throwing the words over his shoulder without a second glance as he grabs his jacket and turns to leave.

"She's all yours, Harrington."

That lie burns on his tongue like acid, but he doesn't look back.

taglist: @xxbimbobunnyxx @bimbotrashcan @popbangcrash @corrodedcorpses @demibats @hellfire--cult @calumfmu @bastardstevie @emmypoisonedqueen @probablyin-bed @luv4peterba1lard @stolen-in-moonlight @potatobeans99 @your-nightmaredoll @rebelfell @josephquinnsfreckles @chaptersleftunwritten @angel-eyes-and-devil-hearts @callsignmedusa @splendiferous-bitch @spenciesprincess @creepycranberry @idkwhattoputhere08 @obsessed-midwest-princess @joequiinn @celestialbat @rosekicks @not-my-lover @alba8688 @kellsck sorry if i missed anyone!

#the freak writes 🫧#eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x steve harrington #enemy!eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson oneshot #[ the munson files ]

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brittle-doughie · 19 days ago

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Love is over. The Eternal Sugar era is over, lol.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You tried to muffle the sound of your phone ringing with a pillow over your head. Knowing full well who was going to be on the other side. It cuts to the voicemail.

△ “H-hello? Can you hear me, my heav-oops! I mean…Y/N Cookie. It’s me! Eternal Sugar Cookie! I know that we haven’t ended on good terms the last time we had seen each other, but I would greatly appreciate your help right about now!”

You shake your head as you muffled the voicemail with your pillow.

△ “I’m deeply sorry if I had done anything to upset you before, but when it comes to you, I sometimes act without thinking. I hope you aren’t too mad at me for what I had done. You just see a Cookie that makes your heart beat like never before and you feel like they could be the one for you when eyes lock on together…”

Sorry…yeah, that’s always what she fell back on when she took steps too far…

△ “I know you must be upset with me, but could you place it aside for just a moment? I may have gotten too carried away with my other half and now I find myself at the mercy of being placed back in that horrific tree again! I know you want nothing more but to see me be banished back to where I belong, but we both know that you don’t want that to happen…”

Well then, you guess that she doesn’t know you at all.

△ “Because deep down, I know that you still love me. And so do I towards you. I never stopped. Not for a second, Y/N Cookie. The serenade between our hearts can’t be ignored! What would life be for me if we can’t together like sugar cubes in a jar? If you do get this message, please consider what I’ve said. I don’t want to spend another eternity in that tree again…

△ “I want to spend that eternity with you…xoxo Eternal Sugar Cookie.”

The call finally hangs up, you groan in your head as you try to go back to sleep. She wasn’t going to reel you back in like she used to.

Not this time.

You and her were done….

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

#cookie run #cookie run x reader #cookie run x you #cr x reader #cookie run kingdom #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #cr kingdom #eternal sugar x reader #eternal sugar cookie x reader #eternal sugar cookie

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critterbitter · 2 years ago

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It’s everybody’s favorite lantern! Ingo's partner pokemon's very chaos incorporated. Inspired by the very enthusiastic asks in my inbox, which I’ll be responding to under this cut ;0 Wanna see more? Check out this submas masterlist.

@euos-the-cat AAA thank you! I took one look at that waxy gremlin and thought "huh. I can do something with this."

@eventhetiniestbugs Yo. YO. HEADCANNON ACCEPTED. Litwick really is sort of a beatrice, isn't she? Being Ingo (and in part, Emmet's) unwilling guide. Reluctant friend. Best found family.

@answrs Thanks!!! I love sneasler and I need to draw her more. It wasn't on purpose, but it seems I've accidentally wrote myself into a Sort Of chronological posting (oops!) But sneasler WILL appear later (hopefully BEFORE my hyperfixation fizzles out haha)

@raynavan AhHEhEHEHEH. I usually don't dabble with too much angst, but yeah. On the plus side, uh, more chandelure emmet interactions! On the down side, well.

@blueisquitetired You learn to like rice. It's a staple in your diet, and while you may think its bland and boring, it becomes something you can always rely on during meal time when things get dicey. Or, well. It was.

@moothebloo ...DEFINITELY SAVING THAT FOR LATER. CHANDELURE ANGRY SHARPIE BROWS LETS GOO. (Idk if you're into rottmnt, but uh that's some donnie behaviors that I definitely approve of.)

@gender-nuteral-nut-boy First of all, amazing user name. you get all the gender. second of all (points at picture) she's doing finnee! She's doing So Great. Don't Worry About It. ((She has emmet, and later the gear station, and even later maybe even elesa. But Ingo's Hers, and that's a wound that can't be easily staunched.)) @ghostlykryptonitenight Ah,, you see, your first mistake is thinking she'll Remember. : )

Head cannon: ghost pokemon are not a direct reincarnation of a dead soul, and are more like… say, the mold that grows from a coffee mug left out for too long. But they have fragments of memories and dreams of cherished ones. Chandelure knows Ingo’s alive thanks to their bond. She vaguely knows her propagator probably knew Ingo’s identical great uncle or something. But those pieces don’t really connect until Emmet’s research, and she’s tired and faded and the simple act of trying hurts.

(She would leap through space and time for ingo. Chandelure and Emmet would do anything to get their muppet back, even if it means to salt the earth and unearth gods.)

#art #pokemon #myart #sketchbook #chandelure #lampent #litwick #angry night light #ask #mailbox #haha gottem #ghost pokemon are weird #look im a fan of the carrot but sometimes to REALLY get your point across you got to get out a stick #anyways giving the sentient light fixture emotions is my best bit yet #submas

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musingsofahufflepuff · 6 months ago

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If You Need My Love

sub!Mattheo Riddle x gn!reader; smut

summary: something about the way Mattheo’s dark chocolaty curls looked against the pillows and his body sweaty from quidditch practice made you want to suck the soul out of him. through his cock, obviously.

a/n: back by unpopular demand: me, with more matty blowjobs (& overstimulation) bc i just can’t help myself. + matty won the poll, so you degenerates must want it too 🫶 super short, oops. 18+ below the cut

Mattheo knocking at your door at odd hours of the night was something to be expected when you’d agreed to start dating him. Guaranteed, if he didn’t come to your dorm with you at the end of the day, he’d wind up there by the early hours of the morning.

That’s how you ended up with him sprawled across your bedsheets, his cock in your mouth and his fingers gripping the fabric beneath him. You’d lost track of how long you’d spent in this position, but really, you’d probably stay like that forever just to see the absolute wreck Mattheo’s become under your touch.

A string of gasped oh—fucks fall out of his parted lips as his abdominal muscles twitch with every lick to his just as twitchy cock. Your tongue runs along the vein on the underside of his shaft again as he whines, “I can’t—babe, please, too much—”

“Oh baby boy,” you purr, “it’s only been a couple, I think you can take just a few more. Have you been a good boy and kept count for me?”

His head tips back against the pillow, another sharp whine leaving him as you gently suck on the head of his cock, tongue massaging where the tip meets the shaft. “I—yeah…I think ah! four.” His hands scramble to grip the sheets like a lifeline as you take him fully in your mouth once again. It doesn’t take long to pull another one out of him, his entire body shuddering almost violently as near pathetic moans echo in the room. Nothing comes out of his spent cock, just needy little jerks in your mouth. “Okay! I did it, I did it, too much—”

You pull off with a pop and he immediately tries squirming away from more. “Sweet boy, I thought this is what you wanted?” You don’t let him get far, one hand holding his hip down and the other coming up to move his sweaty curls away from his face.

Mattheo pants softly, trying and failing to regain control of his breathing. It was a rare and downright sinful sight, him splayed out on the bed and at your mercy. His abdomen spasms once more, hips involuntarily bucking up for more contact.

You lean down like you’re about to take him back into your mouth until the last second, you redirect and bite the tender flesh of his inner thigh. “I asked a question Matty, c’mon, gimme an answer.” He gasps and attempts to jerk his leg away from the light sting of your teeth.

“I did—yeah, wanted your mouth—”

“Then what’s the problem?”

You don’t give him a chance to respond, tongue tracing a line from his balls up to his tip. He lets out a strangled, overstimulated moan while his cock jumps slightly against you. You press a delicate kiss to his shaft before enveloping his cock in your warmth again and you swear there’s almost tears in those pretty brown eyes.

You slowly press down, his tip running along the roof of your mouth at a torturous pace. He brushes the back of your throat as your nose presses into his pelvis and he whimpers. Tongue massaging the underside of his shaft all the while, your eyes flick up to his sweaty, blissed out face.

Mattheo is panting and moaning like he’s seeing god, thighs twitching and squeezing your head between them. “I—fuck! fuckfuckfuck—” he gasps followed by your name like a prayer on his lips. Then his entire body is spasming again, tears pricking behind his eyes from exhaustion, cock pushing further down your throat.

You drag your mouth off of him as the first tear rolls down his pretty cheek. Catching it with your thumb, you carefully lick it away. He’s still trembling as pleasure runs through him in waves, coming down from the high. His breath is shaky as you press a series of soft kisses across his face. “You did so good Matty. You’re okay, I’ve got you.”

You roll onto your back and pull him to your chest for him to relax and regain functionality of his brain. It takes a few moments of peaceful silence, wrapped in each other before he’s smirking, “so, your turn?”

#at this rate half my masterlist is gonna be giving this man sloppy toppy #if you guess where the title came from we’re besties now #slytherin boys #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x gn!reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x male reader #smut #hp smut #mykie fics

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galwednesday · 3 months ago

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How Ruth E. Carter Resurrected 1930s Southern Style for Sinners

Stack’s suit had three little buttons down the front. It had a 1920s cut, and knowing they were coming from Chicago, we figured they likely had custom suits done. His character is very self-conscious and [plans] every little detail; on his pants, the pockets are slanted, he’s got the collar bar, the tie bar, the cuff links—he’s got everything. I remember flying back to L.A. to look for things because in New Orleans, some things you can find, some you can’t. I wanted to find Stack’s hat, and I walked into this hat shop on Melrose, and there was this red hat that ended up being perfect. I’ve worked with a lot of hat aficionados, and I know you can’t just throw your hat around or leave it anywhere, so we had these leather cases made just to hold his hat because it had to stay perfect the whole time. Smoke is less conscious. He doesn’t have a tie, he represents the everyman, and his suit was a little more boxy, a little bigger, and a little less tailored because he’s hiding all kinds of stuff; he’s got two guns, he’s got a knife. His look reminds me of Don Cheadle in Devil in a Blue Dress. He’ll take you down in a second. I loved his blue hat too because it was made of denim and was meant to represent workwear. We really did this movie so fast; there are little things that if I could just take a magic paintbrush and be at the theater and tell the projectionist [to change, I’d be like], “Hold on! Can you pause right here? I have to add a little bit of age to the hat!” But I love the juxtaposition of the red and blue [tones] with Smoke and Stack. That was Ryan’s idea.

And then in comes Mary! Mary had left her community; she married a wealthy man, [but now] she’s getting on the train to go back after her mother’s funeral, and she’s in her little knit dress. She doesn’t even look like she belongs. She’s like a ghost from another planet or another stratosphere, and that was the intention with her look. She’s not a part of the struggle and the strife that is the Mississippi Delta; like Smoke and Stack, she’s made another life for herself. We meet her in this pale, pale, pale color, and she’s wearing the same dress when she goes to the juke, and that was on purpose. I wanted for her to seem ghostly because of what happens to her later on and all of the blood that eventually gets onto the silk. It was very intentional.

It’s unexpected because we knew we were making a horror picture, but I never focused on the horror part. I focused on the Mississippi Delta and the blues and the sharecroppers and the migration and all of that. I had to remind myself, “Oh, they’re gonna bloody this one up!” When one of my team members said, “You know we’re gonna have to make 10 of these [pieces]?” I would say, “Oops! Sorry, guys. I was just focusing so much on the story of it all.” The response to it all is what I wanted it to be; I wanted people to see the Mississippi Delta, and I wanted them to see the story of the blues. Now that it’s rolling out and people are seeing this is more than just a horror film and that it has all of these layers—we made it with the intention of having those layers. There was a story within a story within a story.

How Ruth E. Carter Resurrected 1930s Southern Style for Sinners, Harpers Bazaar, April 24, 2025

#Sinners #costuming #in another interview Ruth E. Carter mentions they had a binder to keep track of which clothing had what kind of blood spatter #at various points in the movie so they could keep it consistent #which is a horror movie logistical challenge I wouldn't have thought about but like. you do need a blood spatter binder actually #makes perfect sense

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januaryembrs · 1 year ago

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Hi!! Could I please order a spicy hot chocolate for Spencer Reid? (Like you know, the ones that people put cayenne pepper in?!)

You’re an incredible writer and human!

BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND | Spencer Reid x Reader

description: your brother brings home his dorky college classmate, Spencer

length: 2.5k

warnings: spicy, SMUT (omg Em attempts smut and even then its pretty tame but why are my hands shaking), minors dni! heed my warnings this is not for you minors!! nipple stuff, mens genitalia mentioned, Spencer and reader get horny for one another oop. I really hope this is okay I've literally written smut once and even then I second guessed myself so much. SEASON ONE GLASSES SPENCE. BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND SPENCE. smut under the cut.

You felt eyes on you without even having to turn where you were stuffing laundry into the washing machine, your face sweaty with the midsummer heat.

“Jesus Christ, you look like Hot Topic threw up on you,” Your brother’s voice resounded as two sets of footsteps entered the kitchen, and someone cleared their throat where you were bent over, denim shorts riding high up your ass cheeks.

Flicking a look over your shoulder, you pulled the spoon full of peanut butter out of your mouth, yanking a headphone out of your ear to address him.

“Don’t shit your pants, dickbrains, it’s all I have until my clothes are clean,” You snapped at Ryan, tongue dancing with the creamy, sweet spread, and your eyes dropped to his left where his best friend fussed over his sweater cuffs, a duffel bag on his back, and your eyes softened as you saw Spencer looking flushed in your kitchen, “Hi, Spence,”

“Hi,” He peeped shyly, and you smiled widely at the obscenely tall boy who had been to your house a number of times. Ryan had met Spencer on the first day of college, or at least his first day. For Spencer, it had been six years already, his third doctorate well underway, and the two had quickly bonded over something dumb and nerdy you’d never bothered to take note of. You clicked the dials on the machine to a low setting, pouring some detergent into the drum and pressing the ‘Start’ button.

“You guys doing homework?” You asked, fixing where your shirt slouched off the side of your shoulder, exposing your lack of bra and baring your collar bones, and you were quick to catch the way Spencer’s hazel hues fell there with something fleeting and guilty in his expression.

“We’re not twelve years old calculating how many watermelons Sally and Jess have all together,” Your brother scoffed, screwing his lips in annoyance, just as much as any twenty year old pumped full of hormones and energy drinks. “We’re writing a paper on thermodynamics; Spencer’s staying over tonight,”

Rolling your eyes at his know it all snark, you pulled a face back at him, despite the fact you were one year older. You looked to his left where Spencer stuffed his hands in his pockets, his cheeks pink as he caught himself like a fly in honey in one of your usual arguments.

“Do you want a drink, Spence?” You offer, ignoring Ryan’s shitty attitude, heading over to the fridge and swinging the door open, your fathers bottles of beer clinking together where they lay flat on the top shelf.

“Soda would be great, please,” Spencer murmured, trying not to stare as you leaned over, those little, black hot pants skirting up so far his face felt feverish and he forced himself to look at the linoleum tiles in a scrambled attempt to control his thoughts.

He felt like a kid again, with a stupid little crush on the older girl who batted her lashes and called him Spence and smiled at him like you knew exactly how you made that big brain of his turn to mush when you spoke to him.

Handing him a Coke, he tried to ignore the way your cold fingers brushed and avoided your gaze at all cost.

“Thankyou,” He said, his voice cracking in the very middle of it in a way that made him feel like a total loser, and he heard you giggle, his neck growing a prickling hot.

Before you could say much else, his friend grabbed his sleeve, tugging him in the direction of his room where you couldn’t bother them anymore.

Spencer was thinking about your laugh the entire afternoon, until they gave up writing and turned to watching Star Trek, the evening air quickly turning humid and dark, and he begged the tightness in his boxers to leave him be for even just a second.

Only, he found no such luck, tortured by the thought of you being just a single flight of stairs away from him.

–

You were doing dishes by the time you heard him again. Assuming it was Ryan, you made no effort to greet him since it usually was only responded with a grunt or cuss anyways.

Except you could tell by the footsteps that were too careful, the presence that was too soft, even by the way he cleared his throat nervously, that it certainly wasn’t your obnoxious brother who had come into the kitchen for a midnight snack.

Whirling around at the sound, Spencer stood on the other side of the dining table you'd been sitting at just a few hours ago eating pasta and listening to your mom recounting her stressful day in the office. Thin, framed glasses perched on his nose, ones you’d never seen before, glinting in the light from the oven as he blinked at you behind the lenses.

“Spence,” You said with a tired smile, eyes dropping to his shirt and plaid trousers, “Cute jammies,”

He paused for a second, looking down to the grey Doctor Who set, a diagram of the TARDIS splayed across his chest, and he blanked when he tried to figure out if you were kidding or being genuine, “Thank you. You too,”

He didn’t know why he’d said it, maybe because that’s just what you do when someone is being kind, except only then did he look at what you were wearing, and impossibly so it was even more scandalous than what you were wearing earlier.

A tank top, if he could even call it that with how far it rode up, and a lacy pair of blush underwear, a pretty white bow resting just below your belly button.

Following his gaze as it devoured your exposed appendage, you grinned at him devilishly, “Sorry, it gets pretty hot in my room at night,”

“Y-yeah I can imagine you-you’re hot,” He stammered, realising what he said when you raised a brow at him, “B-because you’re a floor up, I mean, and heat rises because hot air has a lower particle density than cool air although some physicians believe-”

“I know what you meant, Spence,” You said with a smirk, moving around the table to stand in front of him, your feet padding softly against the cold floor. Looking up at him with a tilted head, you inspected the frames you realised were a mahogany brown now you were close enough to see them properly, you peered past the lenses and right into where his doe eyes stared back at you, skittish and flustered, “Are these new?”

Spencer licked his lips nervously, “I used to wear glasses when I was a kid but now I wear contacts,” He said, rubbing clammy palms over his trousers. He could smell your detergent from here, the same one he’d seen you pour over your laundry just a few hours earlier, ‘Blossom breeze’ or something girly and sweet and floral like that. He didn’t know the brand, but it was entirely intoxicating, except he suspected it had nothing to do with the liquid and more to do with the fact he could see your nipples pressing against your shirt when you stood so close to him, “Girls don’t really think scrawny guys in glasses are.. hot,”

You sniggered, though your brows furrowed the slightest bit, “Who told you that?”

“Lot’s of girls, more than once actually, it’s just kind of common knowledge,” He fumbled, his chest pricking with nerves when your fingers moved up to grip his waist gently, thumbs danced down his hip bones, the gentle touch alone stirring his cock into a painfully hard stance. He gulped, the sound loud in the sombre twilight of the kitchen, and for a guy who had aced every single test he’d ever taken, who played chess against himself for fun to guess his next five moves, Spencer had no clue where he existed outside of your body so close to his, looking at him like he was a puppy begging for treats if he gave paw.

“I think those girls are absolute boneheads if they can’t see how pretty you are, Spence,” You said his name as if it was the only one that had ever mattered, and he couldn’t help how his chest swelled at the sentiment, even if he wasn’t so off guard as to actually believe that. You’d always had this way of making people feel special, he saw it at your family barbecue last Summer, when your cousins flocked around you like you were their Queen Bee, how you seemed to make waiters and waitresses alike flush under your preening smiles and 'please's and 'thankyou's whenever you took Spencer and your brother out for dinner.

“T-thankyou,” He replied after a thick breath, his chest rattling as you pulled him towards your calm figure, and he let himself be guided like he were leashed, “Y-you’re pretty too,”

He wanted to tell you so much more than that, that you were beautiful like all the popular girls at school were, only humble and kind like the golden part of you glittered inside too, except before he could even attempt at expanding on his three pathetic little words he’d stammered through laboured breaths, he effectively got fully disconnected from his brain when you leaned in towards his face and brushed your nose against his, testing the waters.

Your gaze trailed up to his innocently, so close he could feel your minty breaths fanning over his bottom lip, and he guessed you’d already brushed your teeth ready for bed.

“You really think I’m pretty, Spence?” You asked naively, even if he knew it was just because he forgot how to speak when you were too forward, as if you were trying not to spook a deer. He nodded quickly, his eyes zeroing on where your mouth was mere centimetres away from him, one single shiver in his spine and he would be kissing you, and like you’d heard his train of thought, you pushed your lips against his softly, his body jolting with an electric shock.

There could be sirens surrounding the entire house and he would be none the wiser, because in mere seconds his blood was rushing through his eardrums, sounding like radio static, and it was only when he felt the vibration of it against his mouth did he realise you’d whined, and his hands sprung to life, cupping both your cheeks and tugging you closer to his face as if he was clinging onto every second of the feeling.

Spencer groaned, a sound he didn’t even realise he was going to make until he felt your fingers squeeze him lightly, and he snapped back into his body like a hair tie slinging him back into a world where the girl he’d had a teeny, tiny, maddening crush on for months was making out with him in her kitchen.

“‘Gotta be quiet, baby, my parents are asleep,” You said, breathless as you ripped yourself away from him, despite the fact he was insistently pulling you back towards his mouth, and you smiled up at his urgency, “You ever kissed a girl before, Spence?”

He sighed, and you’d never counted him as sassy until you heard it, almost spoiled and bratty now you’d given him a taste of heaven and held it back from him for the sake of small talk.

“Once, at recess in fifth grade, but it wasn’t like this,” He said, yanking you back towards him ravenously, and you let him devour your lips again, grinning into his desperate mouth, “Never been like this,”

You weren’t sure whether he meant himself or what was likely a peck on the lips between kids as a dare, but you didn’t think too hard about it, as you slotted yourself back into his rough hands, calluses on the insides of his right fingertips from the years holding a pen so hard he might just break it. He felt your mouth open, and he followed your lead, your tongue feathering out with a shyness you showed nowhere else. And it was like every single statistic and number and fact about sharing saliva flew out of his head with wanton need as he dove right for the source, the tip of his tongue meeting yours with a warm nudge and he heard you mewl in pleasure.

Spencer didn’t know what had come over him. Only moments ago he’d been too nervous to even look at you in fear of stumbled around a few syllables and calling them words. Yet here he was, his glasses slipping down his nose and pressing against the bridge of your own, your chest pressed so close to him he could feel your nipples pebbling against his TARDIS shirt, and it was like it was then he remembered you had no bottoms on except your panties.

He hooked a hand underneath one of your legs, hiking it up to his waist and pushing even further up against you, the sudden movement making you gasp, your lower back hitting the dining table as his pubic bone ground against the ball of nerves that had been aching since you caught him shuffling around your kitchen in his damn Doctor Who pyjamas.

Sliding his broad fingers up, your skin spread into gooseflesh and it was your turn to become putty under his touch as he bravely grabbed a handful of your arse, though his touch was still light and uncertain if he was crossing any boundaries. The change in position meant you felt yourself leaning back, your spine spreading out like a cat in warm sunlight, and he was quick to accommodate you, ever eager to please as Spencer was, moving away from the warmth of your mouth and kissing his way down to your pulse, the feeling of it making both of you hum on quietened tones in pleasure.

“Why have we never done this before?” You asked breathlessly, your chest rising frantically as you gasped for air, a hushed moan bleeding into your airways.

Spencer held you upright with one of his long arms, thought his mouth devoured a path over your collar bones, heading right for where your breasts lay in wait, and he didn’t even bother trying to remove your top as he kissed over your nipple with hungry, warm lips.

“I dunno, probably because Ryan wouldn’t be too happy with me trying to fuck his sister while he’s eating dinner,” Spencer said without thinking, his tone sharp and witty as ever, like the noises you were making and the desperation in your touch seemed to rewire his thoughts into something overindulged.

But you laughed, loud enough you slapped a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from waking up the whole house, because you had no idea how you’d explain to them why you and Spencer had ended up half sprawled on the dining table as he practically fixed himself onto every inch of you. And without warning he chuckled too, the vibration blowing over your skin that was already humming with excitement.

“Do you think we could do this more often?” You asked, raising yourself up onto your elbows as his hands spread over your stomach, riding your top up just the smallest bit so he could kiss over your stomach, his pupils blown out into planets behind his glasses, his cheeks tinged raspberry red, his gaze drunken like he was in some sort of sugar rush only ready to stop when he’d gotten his fill, though at the rate he was going Spencer thought that day might not actually come.

You were a drug, a nectar he’d never come close to, and he felt like every kiss to your skin only made that well in his stomach dig deeper and deeper, possibly never running dry as his every thought overflowed with drops of you, and your smell, and your taste, and your tongue.

Missing your lips, he moved back up to your face, crashing his mouth back onto yours as your fingers raked through his hair, the sensation jolting his rod like appendage into you own pelvis, the two of you shivering with the feeling of it.

“I think we can arrange that,” He murmured, and you grinned up at him devilishly as he fiddled with the cotton hem of your underwear nervously, his boldness wearing off as he saw that glint in your eyes that spelled trouble. But he understood that nervous and excitement felt so similar it was easy to mistake one for the other, perhaps even mesh both together at the same time, and the logical explanation for his clammy hands and racing heart seemed to soothe him the slightest bit.

He loved sleepovers at your house.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #matthew grey gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader

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evie-sturns · 10 months ago

Text

confession - Chris Sturniolo

summary: when you show up at chris’s house completely drunk at 1am, the last thing he expects is for you to admit all your feelings for him.

contains: bestfriend!chris, drunk!reader, fluff, teasing.

——————————————————————————

12:54am

i definitely drank too much, the air around me seems to be spinning and my head is pounding, what better place to go then my bestfriend chris’s house? i’ve known him forever anyways, he shouldn’t mind.

i giggle to myself as i walk up the stairs to chris’s house, everything is funny at the moment, especially the little garden gnome he has right by his doorstep.

my minidress rides up my thighs, my hair is messy and in my eyes and i barely know where the fuck i am.

i twist the doorknob and open his front door, the whole house is dark except for a small light down the hallway.

i invite myself into his house, deciding to walk down the hallway to his room.

i trip over my feet a couple times before reaching his room.

i push open the door slowly to find chris, sat up against his headboard, the only light in his room being the screen of his phone, illuminating his features perfectly.

“y/n- how the fuck did you get in my house?” he speaks, his voice is filled with pure shock, i don’t blame him.

“oh- it was open.” i mumble, slurring my words with a small laugh at the end.

“you’re drunk? oh gosh.” he groans, standing up out of bed and jogging over to me.

his sweatpants are slung low around his hips, he’s shirtless, showing off his small happy trail.

“hey- did you know that my friend layla is pregnant!? how crazy is that.” i instantly start to yap,

he wraps his arm around my shoulder and guides me to his bed.

“and- and she’s like super pregnant aswell- who knew!” i shrug, flopping back onto chris’s matress.

“that’s crazyy” chris says, standing over me and inspecting me.

“i know right- and she didn’t even tell—“ i start but chris cuts me off.

“how much have you drank, seriously.” he asks, folding his arms over his chest.

“not a lot.” i lie,

“y/n..” he warns,

i instantly give in, “okay maybe a lot- but it’s okay cause it was a birthday party and you’re always meant to-“ i start but chris interrupts me again.

“do you feel like you might be sick hon?” he asks softly,

“no..” i mumble, manspreading on his bed.

he instantly walks over to me and subtly closes my legs,

“should we get you out of this tiny ass dress?” chris asks, tugging it down my thighs for a bit of modesty.

“yeah- i didn’t bring my sleepover bag though.” i say with a small pout,

chris laughs, “i wasn’t expecting you to bring your sleepover bag, wasn’t expecting ya in general!”

“sorry but it’s not my fault that i lost my phone so i couldn’t call an uber!” i whine

“you lost your phone?” he asks,

chris sorts through his closet to find me something to wear, before pulling out some sweatpants and one of his shirts.

“yeah but i’ll find it!” i grin widely,

chris walks over to me with the clothes he picked me out, “these look okay?” he asks,

“chrissuhhh! you know i don’t suit red!!” i groan, pulling the shirt he gave me out of his hands.

“do you want a different shirt?” chris says with a small laugh,

“no..” i mumble,

“let’s get you into these then,” he says, handing me the sweatpants

i stand up off the bed, before instantly tripping over into chris,

“oops- oh god.” he exclaims with a small smirk

“you want some help?” chris asks, his hands resting on my shoulders

“undress me chris.” i giggle with a wink,

chris shakes his head, “don’t eveeerr says that again.” he laughs.

“sorryyyy.” i smile, letting out a small hiccup from the alcohol

chris quickly tugs my dress up over my head, his eyes diverted to the side,

“i’m not looking- i swear..” he mutters,

he pulls the sweatpants up my hips,

“um- do you want to sleep in your bra or..” he whispers,

i shake my head, “take it off!” i say loudly with a exaggerated wink

he scoffs, wiping his eyes.

he unclasps it with ease, it drops to the floor and chris wastes no time pulling on the shirt.

“done.” he says proudly, kicking my dress to the side.

“let’s get you to bed.” he whispers, picking me up around my thighs and launching me onto his matress.

i squeal loudly, followed by a loud laugh.

“you have a lot of energy for somebody who’s been awake all night.” he grins, getting into bed beside me.

“wait! let me get back to my stories from the party-“ i start up again, chris rolls his eyes with a small smirk.

i tend to talk a LOT when i’m drunk, maybe even too much.

“okay so basically i was talking to uh- what’s her name? jen, i was talking to jen right and she’s just talking all this yap yap yap to me about her boyfriend being a bad boyfriend- and obviously i’m like single so i can’t relate to a word she’s saying but-“

i start, half of my words indistinguishable due to how slurred my speech is.

my mouth starts to move faster than my brain,

“so i told her, i was like- ‘babe i can’t relate’ and she was all like pissy at me! how crazy is that! she was like ‘not my fault that chris guy doesn’t want you’ that’s what she said!” i say with a small scoff,

chris nods, quite unsure of what i’m even saying.

“but- but i’m sure you want me chris.” i giggle,

“cause i really.. really want you and like i had a dream about you and it’s like apparently psychic shit if someone’s thinking about you they want you!” i exclaim,

“so if your thinking about me i’ll dream about you!” i finish,

“you really really want me?” chris says with a laugh,

i nod eagerly, completely unaware that i am talking too much, accidentally confessing.

“yeah- you’re so sexy! i wanted you for so loooong.” i giggle,

“funny joke sweetheart.” chris scoffs, pulling me to his side,

“it’s not even a joke anymore.” i laugh,

“want you ssooo bad, god i have for soo long chris” i say,

chris goes silent,

“you mean me? like you want me?” he says, sounding genuinely confused.

“yeah, i like you a lot!” i blurt out,

chris sits up to lock eyes with me,

“wait-“ i raise my voice, slamming a hand over my mouth as i realise what i’ve just said,

he looks down at me with raised eyebrows,

i shake my head as i keep the hand over my mouth, i bury my face into the pillow beside me,

“no- nonono- i wasn’t meant to say that!” i whine,

“shh,” chris says with a laugh, rubbing my shoulder.

“get some sleep sweetie, let’s talk in the morning, wake me up if you think you might vomit okay?” he says, laying down beside me.

i nod shakily, yawning.

i instantly pass out, my soft snores filling the room.

——

(The next morning)

i stir awake, my head pounding.

the warm sun seeps through the cracks in the curtains, shining directly into my eyes.

“you’re awake!” chris smiles, rubbing my back.

i sit up in bed, wiping my face.

“god i’m so hungover- how did i even get here what the fuck..” i mumbles,

“you showed up at a very late time.” he grins,

“one in the morning!” he follows up.

“oh god i’m so sorry.” i say with a croaky laugh.

i flop back down on the pillows, rolling over to face chris.

“you told me a secret last night.” chris says with a smirk,

my eyes widen, “what- what did i say.”

“i don’t think you meant it cause you were verryy drunk, but let me just tell ‘ya what you said.” chris grins,

“okay- okay fuck.” i groan,

“you said something along the lines of ‘chris i want you so bad you’re so sexy and that you’ve liked me for ages.” chris giggles, poking my sides.

my face goes red, “no i didn’t.”

“yes you definitely did.” he grins,

“oh god- i’m- i’m sorry-!” i groan, burying my face into the pillow,

“did you mean it?” he asks softly,

i pause,

i could just tell him i was drunk and wasn’t thinking straight- no.

“i might’ve meant it.” i whisper, “i didn’t mean to say that though.”

“yeah? you think i’m soo awesome.” he grins cheekily.

“yes, i like you a lot chris.” i whisper,

“you’re cute, y’know that?” chris smirks,

“god i can’t believe i confessed to you- not even while i was sober!” i scoff,

“at least you did.” he smiles,

the room goes silent.

i stare into chris’s eyes, my heart thumping

he grabs my chin, his thumb grazing over my lower lip.

“cmere.” he whispers,

chris sits up against the headboard,

i sit up aswell, crawling onto his lap.

i sit comfortably on his lap, my hands shaking nervously.

“don’t be nervous.” he whispers, his voice deep and hoarse now.

he keeps a firm grip on my chin,

he leans in?

i pause for a second, “i think i have morning breath.” i whisper

“you’re all good.” he grins,

chris presses his lips gently against mine.

oh my god.

i instantly deepen the kiss, my hand moving up to his jaw.

he keeps a hand on my ass,

he lets out a small groan into my lips, causing me to subconsciously rock my hips against him.

he pulls away softly, “can’t get too carried away.” he mutters, completely out of breath.

“sorry.” i grin,

“that was an unexpected way to start the morning.” i whisper,

he nods with a smirk, looking at me in awe.

he keeps his eyes fixed on my lips,

“i think it cured my hangover though.” i smile,

“you’re so pretty.” chris mutters, his eyes roaming over my face.

“i think i should get drunk more often and confess random shit to you, it seems to have a good outcome everytime.”

@sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl girl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @jamiesturniolo o @chrisstopherfilmed @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @certifiednatelover er @solarsturniolo lo @mattsenthusiast t @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise @sturni0l0tripletzz @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @mattsonlybitch @justalittle47 @sunsetsturniolos

@sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101sara @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 1 @imwetforyourmom @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz 4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-love r @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs @riowritesitall john @raysmayhem-72

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norrisjpg · 3 months ago

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hands to myself

════════════════════════

summary: in which, lando is a little nervous about the beginning of his world championship campaign, but he's got his favourite lucky charm there with him to keep his head in check.

content: tooth-aching fluff, insecurities, mentions of alcohol and drugs, physical touch is lando's love language (i'm convinced!!)

pairing: lando norris x fem!oc

rora's thoughts: hi everyone! this is officially the first part of the 'open arms' series, even though i published 'cool about it' before this (oops!) - but the saudi arabian grand prix had your girl in some type of (devastated) way, so that's to blame for my blip in better judgement. anyway, i hope you enjoy, and don't forget to comment, i love reading your thoughts!!

════════════════════════

METAPHORICALLY, lando norris had turned into a fucking turtle over the past few hours - hiding under a solid exterior, to shield the soft emotions and nerves that had been building up from the world.

it was early on sunday morning, the day of the australian grand prix, and lando was on pole, what better place to be starting from?

but he was getting in his head, overthinking and borderline spiralling into an abyss of anxiety. this season was supposed to be his season, and he was desperate not to fuck it up, not that he'd fucked up last year - second in the drivers' championship when he'd only won for the first time that year was pretty good, right?

it was oscar's home race, so he knew that the australian would be extra determined to snatch the win from him today and take the lead in the drivers' standings - but lando wasn't going to let that happen, right?

"lando, you awake?" the familiar voice called softly through the door, knocking briefly afterward.

"yeah," the british driver yawned, rubbing his eyes as lily entered the bedroom. “come in.”

the door glided open, revealing the tired and slightly dishevelled model, not completely awake from her slumber quite yet.

“good morning, lils.” lando spoke softly, a sleepy smile on his face.

“morning, lan.” lily yawned, covering her mouth and padding into the room, before clambering onto the bed with him. “how are you feeling about today?”

“good, yeah, good.” he nodded, not sure why he was even trying to lie to her.

“you’re a shit liar,” she mumbled, rolling over so she was closer to him, still facing him. “so, tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

lando was blushing before she’d even finished the sentence, his cheeks flushing an adorable pink and the tips of his ear ringing red. a shy smile spreads across his face and he briefly avoided eye contact with her.

“i— i’m just nervous, that’s all.” the driver brushed it off, shaking his head. “i’m just being silly, don’t worry about me.”

“but you know i do.” she said lowly, bringing a hand up to muddle with his curls. “so come on, spill.”

“what if i fuck it up and lose the lead?” he mumbled, sighing quietly. “this is supposed to be my year, and i really don’t want to mess it up.”

“you’re not going to,” lily reassured him, tracing a finger down the side of his face and across his jaw. “you put it on pole yesterday, correct?”

“yeah, but—”

“—ah, ah. you put it on pole yesterday, yes?”

god, she knew him too well for his own good — she way the girl had quickly tilted his chin upward, toward her, when he’d looked down and muttered his cut-short response.

“yeah.” he mumbled, sounding slightly defeated when she interrupted him, but he knew she was right in what she was implying.

“so you’re the fastest, lan.” she nodded, gently tugging on the curls at the nape of his neck. “stop doubting yourself, you’ve worked hard on your starts and it will have paid off, i promise.”

“but you don’t know that.” he said quietly.

“no, you’re right, i don’t.” lily agreed, speaking gently to him. “but i believe in you, and you should too, you know?”

“i know.” he huffed, placing his hands on her back and running them up and down.

“i hate it when you’re like this.”

“like what?” lando furrowed his eyebrows, frowning a little.

“when you’re hard on yourself, i don’t understand how you don’t see what i see.” she told him honestly. “lando norris, you are going to win today, you hear me? even if you don’t— which isn’t going to happen, i’ll be proud of you anyway.”

a smile finally graced his lips, “how do you always know what to say?”

“i know you better than you think.”

• • • •

THE GARAGE was buzzing, humming with the possibility of leading both championships. yes, it was a shame oscar wouldn’t finish on the podium, but well… he shouldn’t have been chasing his teammate, should he?

“lando norris, wins the australian grand prix — and takes the championship lead from max verstappen!”

the venue erupted in papaya cheers and screams, hugging and celebrating lando’s dominant win at albert park. she wasn’t surprised, she knew he could do it, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t emotional.

she was in awe, stood at the forefront of the barriers when he hopped out of the car victoriously — jon had made sure she was there, his claim being that lily was and always had been lando’s ‘reset button’ or his ‘mediator.’

so there she was, proud and practically beaming with joy as he hurried over to her. within moments, his arms were around her and his lips were on her cheek, whispering sweet words of affection.

“i’d hate to say i told you so,” she giggled softly, after hearing his murmured thanks for believing in him. "but, i did say—"

"shut up," lando laughed softly, breath fanning across her face. "see you in the garage later, you'll be watching me on the podium, yeah?"

"as always." lily nodded with a sweet smile, kissing his cheek this time, leaving him with a pink hue on his expression — disguised by his already sweaty face.

of course she was there, underneath the podium, admiring him as he stood tall with the steering-wheel-inspired trophy wearing a huge grin on his face. lando, obviously, looked for her in the crowd — it was like she was his girlfriend or something, instead of his best friend — and sent her a cheeky wink.

but, her favourite part about the whole ordeal, was the post-race glow he'd carry when he swaggered back into the garage, which always gleamed a little brighter and looked a little cockier when he'd just podiumed — let alone won, and was leading the championship.

"hi." she'd smiled, tilting her head up when he'd approached her, hot and sweaty and dripping with expensive champagne.

"hi pretty girl." lando mumbled, leaning down and burying his head in her shoulder while he hugged her.

"lando!" she practically shrieked, feeling the slightly warm liquid seep through her white shirt.

"what?" he laughed lowly, pulling back but leaving his hands planted firmly on the dips of her hips.

"my top." she sighed, gesturing down to the now practically transparent material sticking to her skin, the outline of her lace bra easily visible to the naked eye.

"oh." he said out loud, eyes shamelessly trailing to her chest, brows raising as his gaze zeroed in on the curve of her breasts. "i'll get you something to... cover up."

"thankyou." lily nodded, not failing to notice the way his eyes lingered for a little too long — but she knew that if she pointed it out, the response she'd get would probably make her melt into a puddle.

it was around seven when the pair left the track together, heading back to their hotel together, lily sporting lando's twojeys quarter-zip he'd worn to albert park in the morning.

the sun was setting and the air was just about warm enough, but not warm enough for lando to refrain from complaining he was cold.

"well, if you could stay out of my personal space, you wouldn't be cold, would you?" lily retorted to his groan of being cold, and how it was going to affect his performance, jokingly of course.

"not fair, you know i can't keep my hands to myself around you."

"maybe you should learn to," she shrugged, sending him a sickly-sweet grin. "not that i don't like it."

"oh, you like it do you?" lando teased, slipping an arm around her shoulders as they approached the car.

"shut up."

"besides, wouldn't want you to show the goods off to everyone else, would i?"

lily audibly laughed, "you're such a perv."

• • • •

THE SOFT LIGHT of their hotel room reflected the affectionate giggles and gentle compliments being exchanged between the pair. the lights were off, curtains open to allow the fading sunlight to creep across the carpet and onto their practically entwined bodies.

"but seriously, you need to stop doubting yourself," lily mumbled, body actually on top of his, lando's knee slotted between her legs as she lay over him. "i mean it, lan."

"yeah, yeah." the british driver brushed it off. "don't you worry that pretty little head of yours with me."

"but i do," she nodded, fighting for her life to not give in and blush. "and don't disregard my worry because it's completely valid — you drive round at two-hundred miles-per-hour and expect me to be cool about it?"

"i forget you actually care about me sometimes."

"hey, i don't want to lose my favourite person." lily frowned. "also, who on earth would pay the rent then?"

"i'm going to ignore that last part." he mused, shaking his head gently. "favourite person, huh?"

the girl simply nodded, moonlight having taken over from the sunlight previously filling the room — a soft yawn signalling it was definitely her bedtime or past it.

"i'm honoured," lando whispered, lips kissing her temple affectionately. "goodnight lils."

"goodnight, lan."

════════════════════════

i do not give permission for my works to be re-written, re-published, or published on any other platform.

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 fanfic #fanfiction #f1 2024 #lando norris #lando norris one shot #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris x oc #lando norris smut #lando norris fluff #lando fluff

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bbunnyyy · 1 year ago

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Desire

/dɪˈzʌɪə/ noun A strong feeling of wanting to have something or wishing for something to happen.

!! WARNING !! smutty themes f!reader x aizawa.

☁︎ Aizawa's touch felt like a fresh breath, your bodies flush against each other. ☁︎

Summary: You and Aizawa end up getting stuck in one of the storage rooms in the left wing- not frequently visited. The tension in the air and the lack of space result in something...more.

A/N: hehe :3

A song to enjoy while reading this: if u think i'm pretty ⚬ Artemas

Your eyes fixated on Aizawa's back as his shoulders moved slightly with each step he took. He wasn't in that same old hero attire for once, since there was a press event today. You admired his chiselled figure that was poking through the white shirt and tight pants he was wearing. You swallowed, noticing how much bigger he was than you. The classrooms were running low on paper, which made Aizawa sigh and beckon you to follow him to the storage rooms to grab a few boxes of materials he needed.

Biting your bottom lip, you thought about how the last few weeks with Aizawa had been. Each moment was so warm, yet strangely sensual. It came so easily between you two. Lost in thought, you bumped into a wall- the wall making an 'oof' sound. Since when did walls make those kinds of sounds? Turns out, what you thought was a wall wasn't a wall at all.

"Still sore from yesterday, L/N?" He said smirking, referencing your sparring session. "Maybe." You said dryly, pouting while looking away. Aizawa responded by resting his hand on the small of your back. Your eyes made contact with his inky ones. He maintained the contact, tilting his head as if asking you if something was wrong. Swallowing, he turned away and continued walking in silence.

Aizawa switched on the light, commenting on how dusty it was In there. "Hold the door open for me, need space to get the boxes out," he mumbled, moving to the racks stacked with various boxes labelled with markers in bold lettering. You held the weighted grey door open, waiting for him to grab the materials he needed. Aizawa walked right into a rack, making the boxes tumble.

"Aizawa!" You exclaimed as you lunged forward in an attempt to pull him away. His body stumbled into yours. "I could have taken care of myself, L/N." Aizawa stated, just as a soft click was heard behind you two. You looked at him, whose mouth was slightly open out of shock. Well, this was awkward. You laughed nervously- "Oops?"

"I hope you do remember neither of us have the keys to open this door?" Aizawa stated, rolling his eyes. He tried moving around, your body now facing the door. Aizawa grit his teeth, throwing his head back in frustration. All this moving wasn't helping. The air felt stiff and heavy, the smell of cardboard boxes filling the air. Your chest pressed against the door, and his body clung to yours from behind- no space to move around now. Looking at the floor, you breathed out trying to think while tapping your heels on the floor anxiously.

The tension in the air could be cut with a knife. Aizawa breathed heavily into your ear, bringing you back to the present situation. "Stop moving." He commanded, his voice deeper than usual. You tried looking back to take a look at his face, but his fingers dug into the flesh on your hips. "I told you to stop moving." Aizawa breathed out, punctuating each word with a firm silence. He sounded like he was...out of breath? You didn't understand why, opening your mouth to say something sarcastic when you felt something poke your bottom half.

Aizawa pushed you forward, using his body. You pressed your hands on the shut door, trying to support yourself. He pushed into you, almost out of instinct, a moan slipping out of his mouth, smooth like honey. "I'm- sorry." Aizawa said, his hard-on pressed firm into your ass. "There's no space to mo-"

"You don't sound very sorry." You stated, trying to sound confident but just as nervous if not more than Aizawa. "L/NNhh-" Aizawa breathed into your ear, feeling around your pockets for your phone. "I think we're past last names now," you stated, out of breath yourself- unable to believe this was actually happening. Aizawa hummed, his hips pressed into yours as his hands patted your pockets. His breath was hot and heavy, the moment felt so intimate despite the awkwardness and lack of professionalism. Pulling your phone out, you rested your head against his chest as he switched on your phone. "Fuck." There's no signal here.

"I guess we're stuck here for a while then, aren't we?" You joked, pushing back at him.

#aizawa x reader #aizawa smut #bnha smut #aizawa shouta smut #aizawa shota smut #eraserhead x reader #eraserhead smut #bnha x reader smut #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shota x reader #shota aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa smut

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buckysprettybaby · 30 days ago

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the punishment

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ pairing: dark!homelander x fem!reader

word count: 1.4k words

warnings: smut 18+ [mdni like seriously], non-con, oral (m receiving), face fucking, power imbalance, homelander is a sick fuck, emotional manipulation, humiliation, degradation, choking, breathplay, slight dacryphilia, pet names but in a condescending way, no safe word, no aftercare, no y/n used (lmk if i’ve missed anything).

summary: you should’ve known better than to ignore him. now, there’s no escaping the consequences.

misc masterlist

a/n: this is dark af so please read the warnings, it was also meant to be short but i just kept writing. oops. smut under cut. gif not mine.

You feel him before you see him. The air goes still, like it knows he’s near. You don’t bother looking back. You won’t give in to him — not yet. His footsteps echo on the hardwood as he makes his way to you, steady and deliberate. He stops just in front of you, his hand curling under your chin to tilt your face up, forcing you to meet his eyes. The touch isn’t harsh, but it’s far from gentle. “You know I don’t like it when you ignore me sweetheart.”

You keep quiet, knowing he doesn’t want an explanation. “You know what happens when you do this. I really do hate punishing you —but you just never learn do you? On your knees now.”

You open your mouth, ready to offer another excuse but the look on his face stops you cold. “I’m not gonna repeat myself again. Now.”

Reluctantly, you lower yourself, the floor unkind beneath your knees. You don’t need to ask what comes next, you already know “Take it out.”

Your hands tremble as you fumble with his belt. You can feel the irritation simmering in him, thick in the air. “Fucks sake,” he snaps, making you flinch. “Do I have to do everything around here myself?” He shoves your hands away and undoes the belt; sharp, impatient. “C’mon princess,” he sneers, his voice dripping with condescension. “I haven’t got all day.”

Still trembling, your hands pull his pants down. You already know he isn’t wearing anything underneath — his thick cock bobs out, slapping against his abs. You can’t help but grimace — just for a split second, but he catches it. “Oh, please,” he sneers, “don’t act like you’re not dripping just from the sight of me.” He smirks, all teeth and ego.

“I can smell you, remember?”

His free hand moves to force your mouth open, while the other keeps your chin in a tight grip. Two fingers push past your lips, forcing you to take them. They’re calloused against your tongue, rough and tasting faintly of sweat and something sharp — like power.

Your tongue rolls around them as you suck. He chuckles lowly, then pushes them deeper, until you gag. He doesn’t slow down — if anything, he goes faster, until spittle gathers at the corners of your lips. Then he adds another finger. And another. Until four are stuffed inside your mouth. He doesn’t stop, not until he feels the air leaving your body. Only then does he pull back, leaving you panting and heaving for breath, drool trailing down your chin and soaking into your shirt.

You cough, swallowing hard, eyes wet and unfocused. “You always do this,” you whisper, voice raw — not angry, not even surprised. Just tired.

He smiles. Of course he does. “And you always act like you’re not going to take it,” he says, brushing his fingers down your cheek, mockingly gentle.

He uses your saliva to stroke his cock. Gives it a few slow tugs, eyes fixed on your face. Your mascara is smudged from your tears, dark streaks starting to run down your cheeks. Your lipstick’s ruined, just the way he likes it. He keeps staring, eyes fixed, as if trying to burn the image into his memory.

His cock is heavy in his hand as he rubs it along your face, smearing precum in its wake. You know he gets off on making you feel like this — like you’re something filthy, something he owns. It makes his sick mind feel good. “You look so pretty like this, my little slut,” he murmurs, voice low and soaked in satisfaction. You whimper, flushed with shame.

He rubs the tip against your lips, parting them before pushing in, stretching them wide. He’s long and thick. No matter how many times he forces you to take him, you’re still not used to it. Sometimes it feels like he gets bigger each time, like your body keeps forgetting how to brace for him.

He groans lowly as the heat of your mouth envelops him. “Just another hole for me to fuck,” he mutters, voice thick with satisfaction. He doesn’t wait, pounding into you with a brutal pace, giving you no time to adjust. His hand twists in your hair, yanking your head back without mercy.

Your throat burns with each shove, eyes watering, gag after gag tearing out of you like instinct. But he doesn’t slow. If anything, the sound spurs him on. Drool slicks your chin, spilling down your neck, your lips stretched, aching. “That’s it,” he growls, voice ragged. “Take it. Just like that.”

He keeps going. Relentless. Your throat constricts around him as your nails claw into his thighs. You try to push him away, but he doesn’t budge. He holds you firmly, your nose pressed against his coarse pubic hair, the tip of his cock brushing the back of your throat. Saliva slicks his cock. It drips down your chin, mingling between you.

He keeps pushing forward, unrelenting, until your throat tightens painfully, making it impossible to draw a breath. Panic flickers in your chest as you claw at his thighs, desperate for air. Finally, with a sudden shift, he pulls back just enough. His grip loosens just a fraction. You cough violently, gasping, your lungs burning as air rushes back in. Drool and tears mingle on your cheeks, but for the first time in a long moment, you can breathe.

Your hand reaches up. Fingers trembling. You wrap them around him. His thick cock is slick and glistening, completely coated in a mixture of saliva and precum that drips and pools along the veins and swollen head. The slickness makes it almost impossible to hold, but you grasp him anyway, feeling the wet heat radiate through your palm. Even in this brief moment of reprieve, the raw, demanding heat presses against your skin — a reminder that he wants more, no matter how little mercy he shows.

He only gives you a few seconds. Barely enough to breathe. Then he’s in you again; deeper, harder. His hips snap forward, unrelenting, each thrust more brutal than the last.

“Please. Slow down,” you garble between thrusts, the words barely audible. He hears you — and laughs. Low, breathless. Like your begging is exactly what he wanted.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “you know this only turns me on.” And he keeps going, unbothered. Maybe even harder.

Your throat constricts around him again, and you feel him swell in your mouth, the telltale sign that he’s close. He grabs your head with both hands, holding you firmly in place as he begins to fuck your throat faster, each thrust more frantic than the last.

His thrusts grow erratic, the grip on your head tightening. Then suddenly, he pulls out — fast and sharp — and strokes himself once, twice. Warmth splashes across your face, sticky and immediate, as he finishes with a low groan, eyes locked on the mess he’s made of you.

He exhales hard, chest heaving slightly. “Perfect,” he murmurs, admiring his work like you’re just another surface to mark.

Humiliation courses through you as you heave, struggling to catch your breath. His cum stains your face, hot and sticky, a reminder of everything he just took — and everything you couldn’t stop. He reaches down and grabs your hand, guiding your fingers to your face. With unsettling care, he wipes a smear of his release from your cheek — then presses your own finger against your lips. “Go on,” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours. “Taste it.”

Fat tears roll down your cheeks as the taste hits your tongue: bitter, humiliating. Through your blurred vision, you can just make out the satisfied smirk on his face. He looks pleased, like this is exactly how he wanted to see you: broken, used, and still obeying.

He tucks himself back into his suit with practiced ease, like none of it meant anything. Then he glances down at you, eyes sharp, lips curled into something between amusement and disdain. “Clean yourself up,” he says flatly. “You look like a mess.”

And with that, he leaves. It’s what he always does — uses you, then discards you like you’re nothing. Nothing, until he wants his fix again. You’re left kneeling on the floor, covered in his cum, shame clinging to your skin like a second layer.

please like, comment and reblog to let me know what you think ♡

#bpb works #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander x y/n #homelander x fem!reader #homelander smut #the boys #dark!homelander x reader

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guywhowatches · 6 months ago

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You felt a strange amount of excitement and worry as you were dragged into the house by your hook-up. You didn't know much about him, as you'd only met him that night, but you were excited nonetheless. At first you were worried about talking to him, as he was standing alone in the night club seemingly texting someone. However, you were so glad you did, as he seemed very glad to meet you and was willing to go back to your house to chat, and hopefully get something else out of it.

Once you got inside, you offered to go up to your room, and he thankfully agreed. As you walked up the stairs together, you couldn't help but admire him from behind. You truly felt as though you'd struck gold with him, as he was quite the bombshell, with a large ass that stuck out like a sore thumb. You just couldn't help but get excited. Once you got to the room, you opened the door and showed him inside.

"Make yourself at home." You said, trying to set a good impression on him. He looked back at you and smiled gleefully.

"Gladly" He said, sitting down on the bed. You followed up and sat down next to him. You put your hand on his leg, trying to make the first move on him. You were about to start attempting to pull down his pants when suddenly, you were interrupted by a loud-

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You jumped at the loud noise that vibrated around the room. You looked at your hook-up who had a slightly relaxed look on his face. You were about to question him, when suddenly the stink of rotten eggs entered your nose, causing you to cough. You took your hand of his pants and wafted the air around you.

"Ahh, just making myself at home, like you said. And it's like they say: Better out than in." He said, glancing over at you, with a smile, unaffected by the smell. You coughed again, a little confused by this reaction, but trying to overlook it.

"Uhh... it's fine, now where we?" You said, wanting to change the subject, as the smell was quite unpleasant. He smiled back and leaned over towards you, tilting his ass to the side, and you leaned in towards him with a smile, beginning to close your eyes.

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Your eyes shot open again, to see him straining with a smile. You lurched back a little, but it was too late. A stronger smell of eggs filled the room, causing you to gag.

"Oops, must've been the eggy salad I had for lunch." He stated with a chuckle, and almost no hint of shame. It was starting to become a problem now, as the stink was really beginning to kill the mood for you, yet you still felt tempted to press on.

"Uhh, yeah sure. Why don't you just try to hold it in, ok? Let's not spoil the moment." You then tried to slowly lean in to kiss him, but felt a hand suddenly pressing against your face. You opened your eyes to him holding you back, with a smirk.

"I've got a better idea, close your eyes and lie down on the bed." You felt your heart skip a beat, but you weren't going to miss on an opportunity like this, so you did as he asked. As you lay there, you suddenly felt a large weight on you, getting you more excited. However, there was a strange musky smell that accompanied it, that was too rank not to notice. Had he seriously farted again?

You opened your eyes to take a peek and were met with his giant ass just a few inches away from your face. His pants were pulled down, showing off his tight underwear.

"What are you doi-"

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You were cut off by a strong blast that you swore made the fabric of his pants vibrate. Taking the stink at point blast was no easy feat. You felt yourself gagging and tried to get up away from it. However, he had you completely pinned down, as he was seemingly rather heavy. All you could do was try to turn your head away and pray for the smell to disperse.

"Whew, that one was begging to come out, wouldn't you agree?" He said above you, chuckling ominously.

"What is wrong with you, why are you doing this?" You begged, hoping this was all just his idea of a sick joke.

"Well, you see, my boyfriend is always going on and on about how I fart too much and how bad it stinks." Wait, did he just say boyfr-

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Another booming fart blasted into my face (and nose), cutting off your train of thought.

"Even though, it's his fault for taking me to get eggy food so often, as I've told him before that it gives me the worst gas." He sure wasn't kidding about his gas being the worst. "But, I love him too much to put him through that, yet I just have so much fun letting it out onto such a comfy cushion like you. Now take a deep sniff of this next one." There was a playful yet threatening tone to his voice, that scared you. Before you could object, another large blast came from his rear.

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How did he have so much gas? At least you had a tiny bit of protection, between your face and his ass. Unfortunately, he then proceeded to grab the waistband of his pants, and pull them down, giving you a full uncensored view.

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With no protection between your face and his ass, you could feel your hair blow back a little. The foul stench was even worse.

"Phew, I think I'm definitely going to need to take a fat shit after I'm done." He said, almost gleefully. "I used to use my boyfriends bathroom, but he would get so annoyed that I kept clogging it, so it's easier for me to use the hook-ups one every time. Speaking of which, I hope you've got a plunger. After I'm done in there, it won't be a pretty sight, because I had a big lunch." He exclaimed laughing.

Hearing this somehow made you even more terrified. He wouldn't do that to you, would he? Also, other hook-ups? He's done this before? Strangely to you, hearing that felt like the most demeaning part of this whole experience.

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Well, perhaps make that the 2nd most.

"Well, I think I'm nearly done. I just want to thank you for being such a good fart sniffer. My boyfriend will be so pleased. Now then, let's finish this off, shall we?" You were so glad to hear it was almost over, as you wasn't sure your nose could take it anymore.

"Seeing as how you're too pinned down to pull my finger, I guess I'll do it myself. Are you ready?" No, you really weren't. But it didn't matter, as you saw him lift up his arm, and pull his own index.

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The onslaught of gas that followed was booming. It bounced off the walls, rattling your skull. Not to mention the hideous eggy smell that replaced every last molecule of clean oxygen in the room. It was too much and you felt yourself pass out.

As you lay there, unconscious, your 'hook-up' lifted himself off you and pulled his pants back up.

"Thanks for spending the evening with me, this was fun." He said with a smile, looking down at you. He then turned around and headed out the room, directly towards the bathroom to create presumably an even bigger stink than in here.

As disgusted as you were, one certain thought crossed your mind before fully passing out. You'd never be going back to that club.

#eproctophilia #fart #fart caption #fart fiction #fart story #male farts #toilet usage #farting #ass sniffing #male domination #gay male #musky ass

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