clinicallyclara2

[clinicallyclara2]

due to popular demand, here's rockstar Eddie 🤲

[clinicallyclara2]

୧ ‧₊˚ extra sugar,

summary. sam's on a hunt and lucky for you, the diner you work at is his next stop.

pairing. sam winchester x waitress!reader genre. fluff

wordcount. 694

notes / warnings. obnoxious flirting, sam being a shy cutie-patootie

You spot him the second he walks in.

Too tall, too broad, too scruffy academic to be from around here. Shoulders like a linebacker, but the way he tucks into the booth and opens a book before the menu even gets touched? Definitely not a regular.

He looks like he came out of a travel blog for sexy wanderers with mysterious pasts and tragic playlists.

You grab your notepad and saunter over, already crafting your opener, shooing your colleague away before she even dreams of it.

You’ve got your friendly flirt voice loaded and ready—part of the job, mostly. Tips don’t flirt themselves. But this guy? You’re not even pretending it’s just for the cash.

"Hey there, stranger," you chirp, hip popped just slightly. "Diner special today is meatloaf, but I can ask the kitchen to burn it if you’re going for the full small-town experience."

He looks up, startled. And god, those eyes. Hazelly, wide, and very much Not Ready For Eye Contact. He blinks, twice, before managing a polite, “Uh, I—I think I’ll skip the meatloaf.”

You grin. “Brave. What can I get you then?”

He clears his throat and fumbles to close the thick hardcover in front of him. You catch a glimpse of the title—some obscure folklore text that definitely has nothing to do with your specials board.

“Just coffee, please. Black.”

You write it down dramatically, tongue clicking. “How mysterious. Sitting alone with a big book. Drinking coffee like you’ve seen some things.”

His mouth quirks—half smirk, half nervous tic. “Maybe I have.”

Oh, that’s interesting.

You lean a little closer, just enough to make his ears pink. “Well. If you ever feel like unloading your tragic past, I’ve got refills and a good listening face.”

He huffs something close to a laugh. His fingers drum against the table, restless. “You always this charming, or am I just lucky?”

You pretend to think about it. “Both. Definitely both.”

You walk off, a little extra sway in your step, fully aware of his eyes trailing after you. The counter girl gives you a look when you pass.

“What?” you shrug. “He’s cute. And weird. My type.”

You bring the coffee, and he’s already back to his book, posture a little stiff like he’s trying to shake you off—mentally, not literally. But when you set the mug down with a wink, he thanks you so softly it makes your breath stutter.

You catch him glancing at the window. Then at the door. Then down at his book again. There’s tension in his shoulders, under the sweet-boy exterior. You’re good at reading people. He’s definitely hiding something.

But you let it go.

Because right now, you’re just a girl with a notepad. And he’s just a guy trying to mind his own business. Maybe save the world a little on the side.

You don’t ask questions.

You just keep refilling his mug.

You keep smiling, letting the air between you crackle just a bit more each time you say his name (he told you, eventually—Sam, shy and slow, like he wasn’t used to sharing it).

By the time he slides his check across the table, the sun’s dipped low outside. You’re halfway through wiping down the counter when he walks over to pay, hesitating like there’s something he wants to say but doesn’t know how.

You help him out.

“Leaving already?” you say, all mock disappointment. “Was just about to ask you to marry me.”

That finally earns you a real laugh. Soft, rough-edged. The kind that makes you want to make him do it again. And again.

He sets down the cash—plus a tip that is very, very nice—and when he hands you the receipt, there’s something scribbled on the back.

A number.

You look up, surprised. He’s already halfway to the door.

But then he pauses. Looks back over his shoulder.

“I’ll be in town a couple more days,” he says, casual. Like he didn’t just hand you exactly what you were fishing for.

You tuck the number into your apron pocket, grinning. And then he’s gone. Back to his hunt. Back to whatever monster he’s chasing in the dark.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

[clinicallyclara2]

isn't that crazy?

peter parker x fem!reader

summary: reader storms into peter's apartment, upset over her last tinder date being a complete tool and refusing to eat her out. peter gets a little... distracted.

wc: ~2.1k

cw: ! MDNI ! not full smut, but descriptions of peter being hard, talking about oral (fem!receiving), dry humping, hints of peter being an absoulte munch, swearing, peter getting so embarassed he makes half-jokes to himself about suicide, friends to lovers sexual tension babyyyyyyyyyy

masterlist!

he didn't mean it. honestly.

in fact, there's nothing peter wanted more in this moment than not to be painfully hard. but here he was, and he didn't know what the fuck to do.

you had let yourself into his apartment with your spare, angrily marching down his hallway already yelling, up in arms about your latest shitty tinder hook up. his bedroom door slammed open, causing him to jump from where he was working at his desk. he looked to you with wide eyes as you continued the rant you'd started upon entering the threshold of his apartment.

"i mean, seriously? i give you the best head of your life, and you return with saying how 'disgusting' going down on me would be? and then you have the audacity to get mad at me when i don't want to fuck you? what the fuck is wrong with the men of new york?!"

you threw yourself down on his bed, frustrated sighs wracking through your chest as you attempted to calm yourself down, hands rough in your hair. peter stared back with bewilderment, and unfortunately, upon the thought of eating you out, an insane hard-on.

it's not like you hadn't talked about sex in the past five years of knowing peter, the two of you told each other everything. peter had just never seen you so... vulgar about it. so frustrated. he knew he needed to come up with a response — hell, he should've a solid thirty seconds ago — but he was currently willing his blood to stay in the upper half of his body, failing miserably as he couldn't fight off images of you spread for him out of his mind.

"what do you think, pete?" your voice snapped him back to earth.

"w-what?"

you gave a shrug, staring down at your lap and thankfully not seeing peter adjust himself and bring a sweatshirt into his own lap.

"i dunno, maybe i'm being the crazy one here. is it so bad to want head in return?" you stared at him expectantly, like you hadn't just asked him the most insane question he'd ever heard.

he shook his head a little too quickly, mentally cringing at how awkward he was being. parker, pull your shit together!

"no," he responded honestly. "i don't think you're being crazy." i think he's crazy for not wanting to.

you gave another heavy sigh, this time your turn to shake your head. "this is the third guy in a row who was appalled i even dare to bring it up. isn't that fucking crazy?"

peter nodded as though he was in a trance, eyes glossy as he stared at you. his reply fell to a whisper, not trusting the pitch of his own voice right now. "fucking crazy."

he held your gaze for a while as you sat in a comfortable silence. maybe for you, peter, however, was looking for any possible exit strategy that could come his way. his mind was going a million miles per hour, rushing thoughts of having you under him keeping him twitching against his sweatpants. he shifted in his seat, a lapse of judgment on peter's end as the sweatshirt in his lap moved against his groin, a sharp exhale falling from his gaped lips as he did everything in his power to hold back a moan.

if you noticed, you didn't let him know, giving him a soft smile as you stood from his bed to walk closer, gaze now heavy on the physics notes sprawled on the desk. you leaned over his shoulder, a hand on the back of his chair to stabilize yourself as you peered down.

"i'm sorry for complaining about my trashy sex life, this looks a thousand times more important. jesus, what even is all this?"

you leaned down further, your chest now brushing against his shoulder blade as you skimmed the papers, breath hot against his ear. normally, your proximity was no issue for peter — you've been best friends for years, touch wasn't foreign. but with his current circumstances, your touch against him was sending his senses into overdrive, and he was going to combust.

"j-just... physics... i-i guess." he stuttered, not daring to move his head a millimeter as your cheek nearly grazed his own.

you gave a gentle chuckle, the sound earning a groan deep in peter's throat before he knew to stop it. "yeah, i could figure out that much, parker. what's up with you? you're being weird."

you pull back slightly to adjust, immediately turning around to sit on peter's knee. again, it was something you'd done hundreds of times before with no other thoughts or implications, but with the sinful chains around his thoughts right now, it only threw him off more. you went to grab the sweatshirt in his lap, hoping to shift onto him more comfortably. he immediately grabbed your hand to stop you.

"no! i-i mean, i'm fine. i'm not being weird." he let go of your hand, crossing his arms and giving you a shrug, his best attempt at coming off nonchalant. his best wasn't good enough.

"yeah right, peter. what's your prob-" while speaking, you had grabbed for the sweatshirt quicker this time, using the momentum to immediately swing your leg over both his thighs to sit in his lap properly. you sat down fully, cheeks instantly flushing pink, "oh."

there were many times in his life when peter thought about ending it all, but none as much as now. he was going to have to either move countries, or jump from the empire state without his web shooters. those were the only two options circling his head as his wide eyes met yours, a red tint taking over his entire upper body.

"i'm so sorry, h-holy shit," he breathed out, grabbing at your hips to lift you off of him so he could get out of here as quickly as possible. you resisted him, though, doing what you could to fight against him and stay firmly planted on his lap. that made him panic even more. because, of course. he wasn't going to have time to kill himself. you were going to kill him first.

"i-i tried to, i don't... i'm so sorry."

you put your hands on his chest, a genuine look of bewilderment splayed across your features. "is that... is this because of me? what i was talking about?"

not only were you going to kill him, you were going to torment him about it first. and he knew he deserved it.

"pete—"

"i'm so sorry, please let me go, i didn't, i—"

"pete, listen to me."

"this is so embarrassing, i really didn't mean to—"

"peter," you let out his name in a voice he hadn't heard before, something torn between a growl and a moan — all while dragging your hips up against him. he gave a shaky exhale at the pressure, the feeling of you rutting against his cock stopping his guilty rambling.

you found his gaze, his pupils blown and irises dark, a direct correlation to the twitching of his cock as you gave him another soft roll of your hips. his hands found your hips again, holding you firmly in place to stop the teasing movement. his brows knit together, geunine confusion plastered across his face.

"what... what are you doing?" he was breathless, chest heaving as he stared back at you. you hesitantly reached a hand to his hair, palm splaying out on his scalp as your thumb traced circles on his temple. even in his worst possible moments, you were there to calm him down. he had absolutely no idea why you weren't yelling at him, or what you were even still doing here, but he wasn't going to fight it. he melted into your touch, and his breathing hitched as you leaned in closer.

"have you always felt this way?" you whispered, breath against his cheeks sending goosebumps across his body.

"felt... what?" he tried to play dumb, despite the fact that you could also feel how excruciatingly hard he was against you. when he daydreamed about confessing he was in love with you, this was never a scenario in his head.

you let your hand graze slowly down the side of his face, fingers coming to trace his sculpted jawline. his breath didn't just hitch at this point, he was pretty sure his lungs stopped working entirely.

"why haven't you ever said anything?" it wasn't angry, it was a genuine question.

he let out a scoff, a hand leaving your hip to scratch the back of his neck, embarrassment covering his features for the hundredth time this evening. "yeah, well. this isn't exactly how you want to tell your best friend you love her."

your eyes widened, and peter's followed, realization of his words hitting him.

"you love me?"

"holy shit, that's, i didn't, oh my god that's—"

peter's panic was cut off and replaced with awe as he felt your lips crash against his, a feeling he'd been dreaming of since the day he'd met you back in high school. he immediately reciprocated, tilting his head to deepen the kiss and letting a long overdue moan escape from his lips. you smiled against it, both hands interlocking with those brown curls you'd been dying to run your hands through, just like this.

peter nipped at your bottom lip, earning a sharp gasp from you that allowed his tongue much-needed entry into your mouth. the kiss was nothing short of hungry, years of pent-up feelings being released hot and noisily as peter bruised his lips against yours.

he pulled back sharply, out of breath and looking at you as though you weren't real. "wait, i dont... you...?"

you laughed at the lack of his question, though instantly understanding him. you gave a soft nod, a blush creeping over your cheeks as you brought your hands to cup his face. while the kiss was downright sinful, the way you looked at him filled him with nothing but reverence.

"every shitty tinder date happened after i chickened out of telling you how i felt. i just couldn't stand to lose you, peter." you added sadly.

he gave you a knowing look, nodding in agreement. "i know what you mean," he squeezed your hips, a contagious smirk controlling his lips. "wait, you've been going on shitty tinder dates since we moved out for college three years ago."

you returned the smirk, fingers trailing down to ghost the tendons in his neck. "i know."

peter pulled you in again, no longer embarrassed at the desperate noises escaping his throat as he attacked your lips, this kiss somehow hungrier than the last. you grinded down against him again, a raspy "fuck" leaving his swollen lips as he held a firm grip on your hips to keep you moving.

you chuckled at his desperation.

"you're telling me i could've been doing this the whole time instead of shitty jocks thinking its gross to make a woman feel good?" you sighed out as he trailed down your neck, teeth nipping and bruising your soft flesh as he continued to move against your hips, leaving you to soak up the feeling out how hard he was underneath you.

peter groaned in frustration, standing quickly with you still wrapped around his hips. he held you with one arm as though you weighed nothing, lips still attached to the pulse point in your neck. he used the other to catch himself as he threw you down onto his bed. you gasped, your back hitting the soft mattress as you took in peter's frame over you, hands on either side of your head.

he pulled back from his artwork on your neck, his jaw clenched. "i can't believe anyone could ever tell you such nonsense,"

he leaned down again to peck at your lips, hands making their way down to explore your sides. "i can't tell you what an honor it is to even think about how good you taste," he growled in your ear.

you gave a gasp, his words alone enough to have your cunt aching, as if you hadn't been since the second you sat down on his lap. "you... you think about that?"

he let out a chuckle as he sat back, his hands teasingly making their way to the button of your jeans. he ran his fingers under your waistline as his other hand tugged at your zipper, the feeling of your muscles tensing under his touch driving him absolutely crazy.

"more times than you could torture out of me," he pulled your jeans down, nearly finishing in his sweats at the sight of the delicate lace underwear against your burning skin.

"can i show you what i think about, sweetheart?"

[clinicallyclara2]

Welcome to chaos!

Hello, I'm Clara! 23

Just your average Tumblr dweller with a Wattpad account.

Find me on there @clinicallyclara. (Also, my main blog on Tumblr!)

[clinicallyclara2]

ReaderxYou pick!

ReaderxYou pick! No names, only usage of she/her/hers and he/him/his. MINORS DNI.18+ Only. Word count: 450 Warnings: NSFW 18+, Fem!reader, praising, light biting, unprotected p in v, creampie, begging, mentions of bruising, nicknames. ★・・・・・・★★・・・・・・★★・・・・・・★★・・・・・★

★・・・・・・★★・・・・・・★★・・・・・・★★・・・・・・★

“Hey, hey, shh-“ he cooed. He was overwhelming me with his cock.

Slamming up into me as little quips spilled past my lips.

“What?” He taunted. “Tell me-“ He went harder, just how I liked. I cried out at the feeling of his huge cock. The rough slap of my thighs on his made me moan.

I tipped my head to his shoulder, biting down gently.

“Mmh-“ He moaned, and my head spun.

“That’s it, my love, take it.” He rasped into my ear. “You looked so fucking pretty in that dress tonight.”

He had picked me out a short white dress with small floral cutouts going around my midriff for our date tonight.

I chuckled into his shoulder, letting go of the hold my teeth had on him.

“I fucking love you.” I felt like my words came out slurred, like I was drunk. I studied his face as he bounced me on his lap.

He chuckled. “I love you, too. My princess.” He looked at me with adoration, despite what was happening between us.

“Can you take more?”

“Yes!” I gasped.

“Ohhh- good girl.” He praised, immediately switching up how he was fucking me. He started to rock me back and forth, reaching so deep I saw stars. I closed my eyes and tipped my head backward.

“Ride me.” He gasped, grabbing my attention again.

He knew I was overwhelmed, and it was going to be hard. I started to lean forward, bouncing up and down slowly on his cock. Each time his hips slammed up to meet my thighs, I cried out.

“Fuck- I’m going to come.” He gasped suddenly.

I pushed back on his chest so he would lie back on the bed, and I started going harder.

“Are you close?” He looked up into my eyes with a wild look. I could only nod, my knees were weak, and my rides became choppy. He grabbed my hips and slammed up into me harder.

“Come.” He gripped my jaw, and he held my gaze, his fingers bruising on my hip as I let myself go. I shook on top of him as he thrusted up once, then twice into me, spilling his load into me. I shuddered, dipping my head to his shoulder.

He moaned out with me, a ripple of shooting pain shot up through my leg, and I shook so hard around him. My thigh quivered, my muscles tensing. He grabbed the back of my thigh and squeezed.

“There’s my pretty girl.”

★・・・・・・★★・・・・・・★★・・・・・・★★・・・・・・★

[clinicallyclara2]

(Y/N)xPeter Parker

MINORS DNI. 18+ Only. Pairing: (Y/N) x Peter Parker Summary: Spider-Man saves you, and you figure out his secret. (NSFW. Impatient and rough Peter.) Word count: 3690 Warnings: Fem!reader, nsfw 18+, use of (Y/N), multiple mentions of “stalking” (only teasing), blood mention (from an accidental cut), praising, fingering, finger sucking, oral sex (F&M receiving), biting hands, unprotected p in v, begging, nicknames, very light choking. ★・・・・・・★★・・・・・・★★・・・・・・★★・・・・・★

“Spiderman?!” I gasped against the base of his throat. His mask was cold against my cheek, and it made my body go rigid. What the fuck?

He had picked me up and swung me over half of New York City before I could react. I was still shaking.

“You’re okay, (Y/N).” His voice came out raspy, and it made me blink. Does he know me?

“How do you-“

“Uh, the news. I watch you on the news a lot.” He cut me off abruptly, and I became suspicious immediately. Despite how nauseating flying through the air made me feel, I knew I would dwell on his words.

I was a weather reporter, fresh out of college and trying my best. I was on every night at 10 p.m.

The impact of him swinging me through the air made my eyes water.

He landed on the ground first, the impact shooting up through our bodies. Except we weren’t on the ground, but on top of an extremely tall building.

I was clinging to him. He had my back gripped tight to him, and I only loosened when he did.

“Are you okay?” he asked casually, and I nodded my head. I knew that voice. I took a few steps back so I would stop touching him. My legs felt funny and wobbly.

“Yeah-“ I said breathily. I realized which building he had dropped me off at, my apartment building.

“Do I- know you?” I raised a brow.

He pointed his thumb at the street, and I reached out to grab his wrist before he could leave. He hissed, and I jumped, moving my hand up his arm more. I had grabbed him where three little bloody slashes went through his suit. He was pale and appeared somewhat skinny.

“Hey, please don’t leave. Tell me.” I demanded.

“(Y/N). Come on, you know I can’t do that.” That voice. The way he said my name like that. My mind flooded with images of Peter. Peter Parker. That has to be him. The one that followed me around the news station every day like a puppy, insisted on walking me home every single day, even if it was late, like today. He was like a bug I couldn’t escape, and he just saved my life.

Except tonight, he didn’t walk me home.

“Peter?” I whispered. I noticed his breathing hitch in his chest before he returned to normal. I retraced my fingers from around his wrist.

“Who?” He asked.

“I know it’s you.” I shook my head.

“No, you don’t.” He said sternly.

“Face it. I figured it out.” I looked over the mask. My jaw was tight.

I was furious. He had been following me, stalking me, maybe. He saw me get jumped by those men, and he saved me. He saved me, but this time as Spider-Man. My facial expression softened. I looked over my clothes, feeling like I was out of my body.

He stared at me with a somewhat blank expression that was permanently etched on his mask. My throat worked. 

“Fine, it’s not you. Never mind.” I waved my hand and started to walk briskly toward the door.

“Are you going to be okay?” He called out after me.

I stopped, turning on my heel.

“Yes,” I replied simply. “Maybe sometime in the next millennia.”

I went into my apartment, keys jangling shakily as I unlocked my door and went inside. I was greeted by my oblivious cat. She only wanted food. I bent down and stroked her head before bolting the door behind me.

I walked over to her bowl and filled it up. My cozy apartment no longer felt like home. The air was tense and almost unfamiliar. I was still shaking, just anxious and worked up.

I decided just to go lie down. I padded through the small hallway and into my bedroom. I didn’t bother changing out of my work clothes yet—black strappy heels and a blue dress that hugged my thighs. I took my phone from my purse and hesitantly laid it on my side table. Should I text him? 

I toyed with the idea for a moment before texting Peter.

(Y/N): I lied. I’m not okay.

I sent the text, and little quips started to spill from my mouth. Open-mouthed, I began to sob into my hand.

I almost immediately got a text back.

Peter: I’m outside, you’re okay.

(Y/N): Come here.

I pulled my knees up to my chest and shakily took a breath, waiting for his reply. A few minutes passed, and it never came. The buzzer from downstairs buzzed loudly throughout the apartment, and I flew out of bed. I let him up through the panel near my front door and opened the door impatiently, my quiet sobs filling the space.

His tall figure bounded up the stairs and immediately grasped my forearms to steady my shaking body.

“Hey, hey. Come here.” He said quietly. He wrapped me in a hug, his hand ghosting over my hair.

“What happened?” He asked me quietly.

I hesitated for just a moment and looked up into his eyes. My gaze faltered shakily. Did I get it wrong?

“I-“

“Come on, let’s go sit.” He delicately nudged me back into my apartment, shutting and bolting the door behind him. I stepped backward and let him pull me to my couch.

I stared at him for a little too long.

“Why were you outside my apartment?” I asked curiously. I was going to force the information out of him if it killed me.

“I was running, that’s all.” He waved me off, and I caught a peek beneath his long sleeves on his shirt. One of them was stained red. My eyes locked onto it before I pulled them away to meet his gaze. His throat worked.

“You were running at three in the morning?” I raised a brow.

“Yeah.” His voice wavered, and I rolled my eyes.

“You know you’re bleeding, right?” I nodded my head toward his shirt, and he gasped.

“Oh shit-“ He stood up and went to my sink. I trailed behind him, leaning in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Peter,” I said softly.

“(Y/N).” He replied, glancing over his shoulder.

“Give it up,” I whispered.

He turned to me after he had washed his cut, quickly pulling his sleeve down again. I walked over to him briskly, grabbing his wrist. I pulled his sleeve up higher and examined his wound. Three little slashes, but they were more healed than before. I met his eyes, and his lip quivered.

“I shouldn’t have come.”

He was standing here crying because I figured it out. My lip quivered, and I pushed my face into his chest. Sobs racked through me, and he hugged me to him.

“Hey, shhh- you’re okay.” He shushed me. His hand grazed up and down my back. His face went to the top of my head, and he sighed deeply.

“I just mean, you shouldn’t know. No one knows.” He whispered into my hair. I relaxed into him, my sobs stopping.

“Come on, let’s get you fed.” He thumbed over my cheek. I hiccuped, and he parted delicately from me. His fingers grazed my arm as he reached around me and opened my fridge. He pulled out my wrapped, half-eaten burger and placed it into my hands.

“You eat them cold, right?”

My breath hitched.

“You have been watching me.”

“Of course I have.” He shook his head, his eyes roaming my face. He looked at me like it was the most obvious thing.

“Do you watch me all the time?” My brows furrowed, and he playfully rolled his eyes.

“I’m not a fucking stalker, (Y/N).” He chuckled, and it made me smile.

“Just sometimes when you’re being a dumb ass and you work really late I follow behind you. Like tonight, or I walk you home as Peter.” He shrugged.

I smiled and searched his frame.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

I knew he would have done it for anyone, but something stirred in me with him.

“Can I ask you about it?”

“About what?”

“Being cool and famous, and you know, Spider-Man?” I laughed softly.

“Eat, and maybe I'll answer a few questions.” His voice was commanding, without any hint of shakiness unlike mine.

“Okay,” I said quietly. I unwrapped my burger and took a few slow bites.

“How did you- become Spider-Man?” I asked softly, covering my mouth.

“A really special spider bit me.” He explained it to me like a child, and I stared blankly at him.

“Oh-” I blinked at him. So he didn't choose to be Spider-Man? Although I suppose most superheroes don’t decide to be superheroes.

“Does that surprise you?”

“A little.” I nodded. I inhaled shakily and looked over his frame. “It’s courageous of you to risk your life for New York City daily.”

“I wish I had a choice, but if I did, I would still risk my life. Especially for you.” His voice became raspy, and it made me blink.

“It makes me nervous.” I blurted.

“I- why?” He stuttered.

I set my food down and took a careful step toward him.

“Because I’ve only known you as the intern that followed me around like a lost puppy, then the man that trembled every time I entered the room.”

He let out a hard, shaky breath.

“You’re the only thing that makes me weak.” He whispered. His eyes searched my face, then stopped when he seemed to find his answer.

“Are you sure like bug spray or something doesn't-”

“(Y/N).”

A chuckle rippled through me, and he quickly connected our bodies. My facial expression softened. His stomach pressed against mine, and he leaned over me. Our lips were a few inches apart, and I stared at his. My back was forced back into the counter, an unfamiliar ache rippled through my spine, and his long, slender fingers ghosted over my hips.

I tipped my face up to meet his gaze.

“Touch me,” I begged.

He leaned closer to my lips, his rasped whisper like a purr.

“Where?”

“Everywhere.” I gasped. Before I knew it, he had me by my hips, and his lips were pressed hard to mine. I whined into his mouth, and his hand went up to my ribcage. My head was buzzing as he towered over me, bending down so he could kiss me. He lapped at my lips with his tongue, and I groaned loudly in our kiss. He wedged his tongue into my mouth, and I tangled mine with his. A throaty moan slipped past his lips, and he gripped my sides even tighter than before.

It felt so obscene, although it wasn't at all. He picked me up easily and put me on my counter. Our height difference was now more comfortable. He never parted from my mouth; his breathing was ragged against it, and it made me dizzy. His hips parted my thighs wider as he pressed into me more. His hands dragged from around my waist to the tops of my thighs.

“How far are you willing to go tonight?” He whispered.

“Shut up,” I growled against his lips. My hands connected with his hard chest, and I started to shakily undo the buttons of his shirt from the bottom up. “I want you to be rough with me,” I mumbled against his lips.

He held up his hand in front of my mouth, exposing the skin between his thumb and his pointer finger.

“Bite.” He instructed calmly. I looked at him, puzzled.

“Really?”

“Y/N. If you want me to be rough, do what I say.” His throat worked. I hesitantly opened my mouth, and he put the little bit of stretched skin to my lips. I bit down carefully until his other hand snapped up and made me bite down, closing my jaw forcefully.

“There’s my good girl.” He whispered, thumbing over my cheek with his free hand. My whole body thrummed.

“Now be quiet.” He leaned into me, his lips next to my ear. His hand dropped down from my jaw and went easily up my skirt. My body went rigid, sucking in a breath and he swore into my ear.

“Fuck. You’re okay, relax.” He nuzzled my neck with his nose. He wasn’t saying “Fuck.” because I wasn’t listening, I think it was more in the you’re turning me on sort of way. I relaxed and let him trace his hand up my thighs more. He pushed into me more, spreading my legs with his free hand. The bottom of my dress rolled up my thighs more.

“Can I?” He asked raspily, watching me intently. I nodded eagerly. His finger brushed against the front of my soaked underwear, and I whined.

“Shhh-“ He shushed into my ear. I only wanted to get louder. He made me shake.

His hand was wrapped almost over the lower part of my face, sort of like a mask.

“God, you are so wet.” He huffed. He delicately toyed with my underwear, letting it slip inside of me and out again as he pulled it taught.

“Fuck.” I grumbled against his hand.

He pulled up my panties, making me inhale sharply.

“Hey- shush. What did I say? I’m going to need you to be quiet, or else you’ll be punished.” He licked a line up my neck, and I trembled. I nodded to him.

“Good.”

With that, he tugged my underwear to the side and plunged his fingers into me easily. Then he stayed still. I groaned loudly over his hand, and he squeezed my cheeks softly. I bit him harder. He kissed my forehead.

“There’s my good girl. What, what do you want?” He pulled his hand from my mouth down to my neck instead.

“Move- please,” I said shakily.

He started to pound into me with his fingers, little quips spilled out from my throat, and he quietened me by kissing me. His hand never slowed. The one over my throat tightened, and he breathed heavily into my mouth.

“Yeah?” He held my gaze. I practically melted, my head tipped backward, and gently bumped the cabinet behind me.

“Yes!” I whined.

He couldn’t help but bite back his smile, fingering me sloppily. At least it sounded sloppy.

“Oh my god, listen to you, my pretty girl.” He praised me easily, as if it were natural for him to do so. 

“I’m going to pick you up again, okay?” His lips dragged up against the base of my throat, and I moaned in reply. He pulled his fingers out of me before he picked me up easily. I wrapped my arms around him, and he rubbed my back while he took us to my bedroom.

I pressed little kisses to his temple, and he smiled at me. He was still holding me, his hand finding the zipper at the top of my back and unzipping it as he cradled me to him.

“Let me see you.” His voice didn’t have his normal nerdiness to it that I usually heard at work. Something replaced it—a warm, thick, husky tone. He stood me up, and I let my dress slip off my body easily. I could have sworn I heard his breath hitch in his throat. His eyes grazed over my body like I was wearing a lavish set of underwear. But I wasn’t at all.

His hands found my waist, and he bent in to kiss me gently.

“I want you to know —” I said between kisses. He parted from my lips to look down at me. “That I have always liked you, before I mean, even at the office. Not because you’re Spider-Man.”

A chuckle rumbled through him, and he looked down at me with adoration.

“You know, I can tell because of this weird thing I have. Because I’m Spider-Man, I can sense every little change in you. It’s easier to see around coworkers as well, which ones like me and which ones don’t.” He stroked a strand of hair out of my face. “You, however, get this little funny feeling. Right here.” He placed his hand sort of where my ovaries are. His thumb and his pointer finger extended to hit both spots at once.

“I’ve always known.” He whispered. I looked at him, almost mortified. My cheeks heated, and he bent down to kiss them. While I was distracted, sucking a spot to his neck he pushed his front to mine. His hand slipped back into my underwear easily, rubbing small circles to my clit almost painfully slow.

“I’ve ruined that pretty pair of underwear, and I’m sorry.” He whispered into my ear.

“Forget it.” I panted, closing my eyes.

Before I could say anything else, he pushed me back to the edge of my bed and took off my panties in one motion. They bunched at my ankles, and he pulled them off over my heels choppily. He placed one of my heels onto the edge of my bed, dipping his head between my thighs and holding my ankle still.

He lapped slowly over my heat. My hips bucked instinctively and he started to lap over my clit. Small circles with his tongue made me moan. I picked my head up and watched him begin to unclip the buckle at the top of my heel before it clattered to the floor. My leg curled up almost fully behind his head, and he lapped at me harder. I tipped my head back and moaned, my back arching as he unclipped my other heel easily. When it hit the floor, his face was still buried in me. He snaked his tongue inside of me. Was it supposed to feel this good? It never felt this good.

He grabbed my thighs and pulled me right to the edge of the bed. My legs had nowhere to go except for around his back, over his shoulders. He hummed happily into my core, making my body shake.

“Fuck!” I roared. His thumb went up to rub slowly at my swollen clit and I moaned desperately. Something dangerous stirred in my belly.

“Come.” He rasped against my heat. He only retracted his tongue for a second before it filled me again.

I sputtered out a broken cry, and he kept eating me out as my orgasm washed over me. My legs locked behind his head. His free hand snaked up over my breast to rest right in front of my mouth. The little bit of skin between his pointer finger and his thumb was exposed to me. I knew what to do. I bit down hard on his hand, and he hummed happily in reply into my heat. He was mimicking each moan he pulled out of me. 

Once I could think and breathe normally again, he finally uncovered my mouth.

“Do you want more?” He pulled back from me slowly, and I just looked at him for a moment while I tried to find my voice.

“Yes.” I breathed out. He stood up and grabbed my hand, pulling me to my feet.

“On your knees, please.”

I was shaky and hesitant at first, but I complied. He motioned down to his belt.

“Go ahead.”

I smiled up at him, and he thumbed over my cheek. He couldn’t help but I reached up and undid his belt, unzipping his jeans and tugging them down to his ankles. He looked big. Huge even. My throat worked, and he seemed almost impatient with me.

I wet my dry lips before I pulled down his boxers. His length sprang out, and before I could hesitate or react, he had his hand in the back of my hair.

“Suck.” He said dryly. He 

 impatient.

My throat worked and I put his cock into my mouth, sucking on as much of him as I could. His head tipped back, and I sighed around him at the sight. Heat pooled between my legs and I moaned around his thick cock. I took in more of him, and I didn’t think he expected that.

He gasped, audibly gasped as I went to the base of his throat.

“Oh- good girl!” He roared. He gently started to fuck my mouth and I let him until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He pulled off of me with a pop. Bending down, he unclasped my bra and helped me stand again.

“I need to be buried in you.”

“I need you buried in me,” I replied easily. He flipped me around, pushing me onto the bed, and he mounted behind me.

He pushed into my slick, and a cry got caught in my throat. His hand wrapped around my face, cupping it over my mouth.

He started to pound into me. Relentlessly. My knees went weak, and he followed me down lower as my arms trembled.

“I see you take that little pill at lunch every day- right?” He huffed in between thrusts. I nodded eagerly.

“Fuck- you’re such a good girl.” His control was slipping, and I could tell because he whined as I pushed back into him, matching his thrusts.

“Right there- (Y/N).” He whispered my name like a prayer. Three of his fingers went into my mouth and I tasted myself, sucking hard.

“Come with me.” He begged. “Now.” He gasped.

He didn’t last long this time. I screamed out as he came into me, his fingers dropping from my lips. I followed right after. I shook underneath him, and he pressed into me as I collapsed onto the bed.

“Oh- my sweet girl. Are you okay?” He asked quietly, and I nodded.

“More than okay.” I chuckled as he wrapped his arms tightly around me.

★・・・・・・★★・・・・・・★★・・・・・・★★・・・・・・★

[clinicallyclara2]

Fanfiction writers be like:

"here's the immensely time consuming 100K word novel-length passion project I'm working on between my real life job and family! It eats up hundreds of hours of my one and only life, causes me emotional harm, and I gain basically nothing from it! Also I put it on the internet for free so anyone can read if they want. Hope you love it!" :)

[clinicallyclara2]

[clinicallyclara2]

this is very self indulgent i’m so sorry i just really want eddie to hold me

the sob that wracks your body breaks eddie’s heart in real time.

“I don’t even want him back,” you sniffle. “I just can’t believe he’d treat me this way.”

he lets you slump against his tall frame, arms wrapping around you without even a second’s hesitation. his stomach roils; the thought of any man getting the honor to be yours, only to fuck it up and hurt you — it makes him ill.

“sweetheart,” he murmurs, big hands rubbing up and down your back. “I’m so sorry. he never deserved you, never,” he says seriously, ducking his chin down to try and meet your eye.

“am I that hard to love?” you cry, watery voice cracking his chest wide open. he aches for you, wants to take your now-ex boyfriend and rearrange his face with his fists a little.

“woah, hey hey hey,” he says, tipping your chin up with his index finger. “absolutely not.”

your sad wet eyes look up at him, your chin wobbling. he actually feels like he could kill for you in this moment. he’d do anything to make you understand just how perfect you actually are.

he’d do anything to be the next in line to receive the honor of being yours.

“you are so incredibly easy to love,” he continues, feeling his own voice crack with rising emotion. “he just wasn’t man enough to rise to the occasion. that has nothing, and I mean nothing, to do with you.”

you sniffle, managing a tiny little laugh amidst your tears. “you’re just bein’ nice cause you have to be,” you say, admittedly throwing yourself your own little pity party.

“no I’m not, sweetheart. I’m saying it because it’s true. loving you isn’t something I’ve ever had to think about. it jus’ comes naturally,” he says, letting the words spill out before he can really even think them through.

and sure, he could mean it in a platonic sense. except he totally means it in a ‘I’m head over heels for you and you have no idea’ sense. and he’s getting the idea that you realize that.

“eddie—” you sniff, expression softening.

“we don’t have to talk about it right now,” he interjects, understanding that you’re vulnerable. understanding that he needs to be patient.

you nod, wiping at your face with your hands. you stand up on your tip toes, catching him off guard with a tender kiss to his cheek.

and you don’t talk about it, not yet. but the air has shifted between the two of you, and you climb into bed that night knowing that you’re not hard to love. in fact, you have the best person on the planet loving you.

you fall asleep knowing you love him back. knowing that maybe it’s always been him.

[clinicallyclara2]

[clinicallyclara2]

Ay guys did u see that f4 scene~

[clinicallyclara2]

Audio Recommendations 12

You find the dorky guy now in college is he got hotter (kinda giving Eddie)

"Honey, stay in school" (Age play)

Your selfish husband abandons you during your vacation so you have a threesome (MF4F)

"Both? Both is good" (there's one VERY deep voice, but the story is good and does the job) (MM4F)

Catching a ride with a masc (fuckgirl) lesbian

"Make you mine"

A 50 year old divorcee goes on a blind date (HOPPER)

Begging for mommy (overstimulation on M) (STEVE)

Exhausted overstimulation (can't you tell I like men moaning?) (STEVE TOO)

Nipple stimulation on your boyfriend (imagine Eddie getting his nipples pierced)

Just 2 friends playing smash

Hot best friend gives you what you always wanted

Morning sex (very intimate)

Sleepy sex

Cute boyfriend turns dom and goes hard on you

Face fucking (Eddie is so into this)

Corrumpting your priest, he loses control

part 12 is here with some help from you guys (always thankful when you send me audios to share with everybody)

MASTERLIST

[clinicallyclara2]

whiskey & honey

ranch girl ellie williams x city girl fem!reader

every summer since you were fourteen was spent in Ellie’s family ranch. your mothers are best friends, which only made it harder to understand why you and Ellie were never even friends. or maybe the question isn’t about friendship at all.

“Shut up. It's not like I want to do anything with her. I just... just wanna talk to her, you know.” You rolled over your bed for what felt like the ninth time, phone pressed to your ear, your voice low and a little breathless.

“Get along with her. It's just weird that every summer I've been here since I was fourteen, and we aren't even friends...” You sighed, glancing toward the left where your unpacked bags still sat like they had no intention of moving.

“Oh, please. I'm your best friend, remember? I know you more than anyone else,” she scoffed through the line, the smugness in her voice grating. “Just admit it. You want a hot makeout with her after crushing on her for years.”

“Shut up!” you hissed, scrambling upright as your heart started pounding. You stood and began pacing, your feet brushing across the wooden floor.

“Shut up, okay? Her room's literally across from mine.” You dropped your voice to a whisper, as if the thick old walls of Ellie’s house might suddenly melt and spill your secrets into the hallway.

You bit your lip hard, willing the intrusive image of Ellie’s lips on yours to go away. You could almost feel your best friend smirking through the phone.

“I don't like her that way. I just want us to be friends. Just friends,” you said, your voice a little too sharp.

“Yeah, yeah. Friends who do stuff,” she sighed dramatically. “Anyway, I gotta go. Summer class is brutal. Catch up again tomorrow?”

You exhaled, trying not to sound as deflated as you felt. “Yeah. Goodnight. I miss you.”

“Not more than you miss her, I know. You’ve been waiting for summer all year.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. After the call ended, the silence in the room felt heavier than before.

You tossed your phone onto the bed and padded barefoot out of the room. The house creaked in that familiar way, every floorboard carrying memories of summers past. The kitchen lights were dimmed low, just enough to see your way through. You were wearing an oversized shirt that barely reached your thighs, loose and soft from years of wear.

You grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and leaned over the counter, taking a slow bite.

The crunch echoed softly.

Then you heard footsteps.

She appeared from the hallway, and for a moment, you froze.

Ellie.

She looked different. Her auburn hair was shorter now, pulled into a lazy half bun, some side bangs falling across her face. She had grown taller, her frame broader, shoulders straighter. She wore a crisp white button-up with the sleeves folded at her elbows, and cream-colored trousers that made her look older than the last time you saw her. More like a woman than a girl.

Your lips were still on the apple, but your eyes were locked on her.

She didn’t say anything. Just walked to the fridge, opened it lazily, and peered inside like it was a ritual. She didn’t even glance your way.

The fridge door closed with a soft thud.

A beer was now in her hand as she moved to the other side of the counter and leaned on her forearms, her face cast in the soft yellow light of the overhead lamp. Her eyes stayed on the counter at first, the beer bottle pressed to her lips.

You swallowed and shifted your weight, suddenly all too aware of your bare legs against the cool wood cabinets.

“Hi,” you said, quiet and awkward, biting your bottom lip after.

Her gaze lifted slowly. From the floor to your thighs to your eyes. She took a long sip from the bottle before finally responding with a simple, “Hey.”

Her voice had changed. It was lower, more grounded. Less of the lazy, teasing tone you remembered from a few summers back.

“You weren’t here when I arrived,” you said, trying to ease the tension knotting up in your chest. “I thought maybe you were out in town or something.”

Ellie didn’t answer right away. She twisted the bottle in her hand, watching the condensation roll down the glass.

“Had stuff to do at the stables,” she said finally. “Didn’t know you were coming today.”

That stung, a little.

“Oh.” You glanced back down at your apple, realizing you hadn’t taken another bite since she walked in. “Your mom said she told you.”

“She might’ve. I didn’t check my phone.”

The silence after that stretched again, a bit too long. You glanced up from your apple to find her eyes fixed on you — no, not your face.

Your breath hitched slightly.

Her gaze was on your thighs, barely hidden beneath the hem of your oversized shirt. She didn’t even flinch when you caught her.

You straightened up, the air between you crackling with something you couldn’t name.

“What?” you asked, softly, almost challenging.

Her eyes flicked up, meeting yours without shame. She shrugged.

“You’re taller,” she said, tone unreadable. “And louder.”

You scoffed lightly, the heat creeping up your neck.

That made something flicker across her face. The corner of her mouth twitched like she was holding back a smirk or a retort.

“You still talk too much,” she muttered, but there was no bite behind it.

You leaned forward on the counter again, the apple back at your lips, if only to keep your mouth busy. Your heart was thudding hard, and you hated how easily she made you feel like you were back to being fourteen again.

“Nice seeing you too, Williams,” you said dryly, but your voice cracked just slightly at the end.

She laughed under her breath, low and tired. Then she tilted her beer bottle toward you in mock salute.

“Welcome back.”

It was the first thing she said that actually felt like it meant something.

And it scared you just a little, how much you’d been waiting to hear it.

[clinicallyclara2]

˚ · .˚ ༘ 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒅𝒚 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌

synopsis. law is boring. you need a break.

pairing. supernatural﹢ stanford!sam winchester x gf!reader ﹢ smut ( mdni )

wordcount. 1.9K

warnings. public oral sex (m!receiving + f!receiving), fingering, praising, begging, overstimulation.

The campus library is dead quiet, the kind of quiet that tastes like dust and fluorescent lighting, and your fingers are cramping from how long you’ve been highlighting. Your back is aching. Your brain is buzzing. And Sam? He’s not even blinking. Just sitting across from you, leaned over his textbook like it's some ancient scripture.

You try to focus. You really do.

But Sam has that look on his face—the one where his jaw is clenched just slightly and there’s this little crease between his brows. His lashes cast shadows on his cheeks, and every once in a while, he runs his thumb across his bottom lip while reading. Like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

And he’s got his sleeves rolled up. Forearms on full display. His knuckles stained with ink. And you’re about to lose your damn mind.

You shift in your seat, crossing your legs and swallowing hard. Your pen taps against your notebook. Sam glances up at the sound, and when your eyes meet, you give him a soft smile. His mouth lifts at the corners, warm and knowing.

He knows.

God, of course he knows.

You scoot your chair a little closer under the pretense of showing him something in your textbook. He leans in, and the air shifts—slow and heavy, suddenly rich with something else. Your thighs press tighter together when you feel the heat of his body near yours, the way his eyes flick to your lips before dragging back up.

Your hand finds his under the table. Just a little brush of fingertips at first. Then your palm sliding against his, your fingers threading through. He squeezes your hand, and you’re pretty sure you stop breathing.

“You okay?” he asks, voice low, amused.

You nod. “Just… distracted.”

He smiles, like he’s trying not to. Like he’s proud of himself for pulling you under like this without even trying. He leans in a little more. “I could help you focus.”

You bite your lip. Your heart’s already in your throat, hammering against your ribs. You know that look in his eyes. Mischievous. Hungry. Warm and dark and entirely Sam.

You exhale shakily. “Or maybe I could help you relax.”

His brows rise, and he tilts his head just slightly, watching you like you're a challenge. Like he's already imagining what you might do.

“Library’s not exactly private,” he murmurs.

You smile sweetly, voice soft and teasing. “Not the way I do it.”

That’s all it takes.

Within seconds, you're packing your stuff in a haphazard rush, shoving books and pens into your bag, giggling softly when Sam follows suit, looking way too flushed for a guy who was just reviewing constitutional law. He guides you with a hand on your lower back, the two of you weaving through the maze of bookshelves until you’re somewhere deep and forgotten—where the air is colder, the lights are dimmer, and no one ever really comes.

You turn to face him, heart racing. He’s already watching you like he wants to devour you whole.

You drop to your knees before you can second guess it.

Sam’s breath catches.

You look up at him as you reach for his belt. “Wanna be good for you.”

His jaw flexes. His hands curl into fists at his sides like he’s trying to keep them to himself.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice hoarse, already thick with need.

You undo his jeans slowly, watching his eyes. His lashes flutter as you pull him out, already semi-hard and heavy in your palm. You stroke him gently, loving the way he starts to throb under your touch, the way his abs tense and his breath hitches.

You lean forward, lips brushing the head of his cock, featherlight.

“Don’t tease,” he groans, voice strained.

But you love teasing him. You love watching him fall apart, watching how quickly the calm, collected student disappears under your touch.

You kiss down his length first, then lick a slow stripe up the underside, watching his hand slam against the nearest bookshelf to steady himself. Then you take him in your mouth—just the tip at first, sucking softly, tongue swirling.

He moans low in his throat. His other hand finds your hair, gentle but possessive, curling around the strands like he needs something to hold onto or he might shatter.

“F-Fuck, baby—”

You hum around him, loving the way his hips twitch. You take more of him, slow and steady, letting your throat relax as you work him deeper. His breaths come sharp and ragged above you, and you can feel the tremble in his legs as you slide your hands up his thighs.

“You’re… fuck, you’re so good at this,” he whispers, voice broken, reverent. “Always know how to drive me crazy, don’t you?”

You glance up, eyes glassy, spit dripping down your chin as you hollow your cheeks and take him even deeper. His knees almost buckle. He grips your hair tighter, not to force you—never that—but just to anchor himself, to keep from flying apart.

You bob your head faster now, using your hand at the base to stroke what you can’t fit, twisting slightly as you suck, letting your tongue press against that sensitive spot just beneath the head. He lets out a choked moan, hips jerking forward before he catches himself.

“Fuck, if you keep looking at me like that—” His voice cracks. “You’re gonna make me come in like two minutes.”

That only makes you more determined.

You hum again, faster now, your rhythm slick and messy, wet sounds filling the quiet as you swallow around him. His head drops back against the bookshelf, eyes squeezed shut, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“God, baby—gonna come—where do you want it?”

You pull off him just long enough to whisper, breathless and sticky-lipped, “In my mouth.”

He groans like that alone almost finishes him.

Then you’re back on him, working him desperately now, hands and mouth and tongue all in sync, coaxing him closer and closer until his whole body tenses—his thighs trembling, his grip in your hair bruising.

Then he spills down your throat with a guttural moan, panting your name like a prayer.

You swallow every drop.

He’s still breathing hard when you pull off him with a soft pop, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, eyes gleaming. You smile up at him—flushed, proud, glowing.

Sam stares down at you like he’s never seen anything more beautiful.

“Holy shit,” he says, still catching his breath. “That was… fuck. That was the best head of my life.”

His kiss is hungry.

You’ve barely stood up before Sam’s mouth is on yours—desperate and deep, like he needs to taste himself on your tongue, like he needs to feel every single place your mouth just was. His hands grip your waist, pulling you in so tight you can feel the flutter of his still-racing heartbeat against your chest.

You’re still panting, still flushed, still shaky from the way he came undone for you. But he’s already tilting your chin up, trailing kisses down your jaw, whispering against your skin.

“My turn.”

You blink up at him, breathless. “Here?”

He smirks, all dimples and blown pupils. “Sweetheart, you just sucked my soul out of my dick in the middle of a library. You really think I’m letting you walk out of here without returning the favor?”

You whimper when his hands slip under your skirt, fingers warm and possessive as they stroke along your thighs.

He backs you up until your spine brushes against the shelf behind you, cool metal against your sweater. Your bag hits the floor with a soft thud, forgotten.

“Leg up,” he whispers, nudging your knee with his own. “C’mon, baby. Let me see you.”

You obey—dizzy and trembling, lifting one leg onto the lower shelf behind you. It opens you up perfectly for him, your panties already damp and sticking to you from how turned on you still are.

Sam kneels.

And your breath catches.

He’s looking up at you like you’re sacred. Like he wants to worship every inch of you. His hands glide up your thighs, slow and reverent, thumbs teasing just beneath the hem of your underwear.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs, lips brushing against the inside of your thigh. “You get off on sucking my cock, baby?”

You nod, cheeks burning. “I love it. Love how you taste. Love making you come.”

His growl is low and dangerous. “Fuck.”

He kisses your inner thigh again, then again, working higher and higher until you’re squirming, one hand flying to the shelf behind you for balance, the other tangling in his hair.

When his mouth finally presses over your soaked panties, you gasp.

He moans into you—deep and guttural—his tongue dragging slowly over the fabric before he pulls it aside with his fingers, exposing you.

“You’re dripping,” he whispers, dark eyes locked on yours. “So fucking pretty, baby.”

Then he dives in.

You choke on a gasp, your back arching hard against the shelf as his mouth finds your clit and sucks, hot and slick and so good you nearly collapse. His tongue works you with slow, filthy confidence, alternating between long licks and soft, maddening flicks.

You grab the edge of the bookshelf with both hands now, struggling to stay upright. “S-Sam—fuck—”

He hums, sending vibrations through your core, and your legs tremble.

Then he pushes two fingers inside you—so thick, so deep—curling them just right, finding that spot instantly like he’s memorized your body.

“Oh my God,” you moan, head falling back. “Sam, baby, please—don’t stop—”

He doesn’t.

His fingers thrust slow and deep, working you open while his mouth devours you. The sounds are obscene—wet and slick and echoing faintly in the silence of the stacks—but you don’t care. You can’t care.

His pace quickens. His free hand grips your thigh, holding you open for him, and the soft scrape of his stubble against your skin sends shocks straight through your belly.

You’re falling apart.

“Feels so good,” you whisper, barely coherent. “You’re so fucking good at this—gonna come, baby, I—”

His fingers speed up, mouth never leaving your clit.

And then you break.

You cry out softly—biting your lip, desperate to keep the noise in—as your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, sharp and overwhelming and so deep. Your thighs quake. Your vision blurs. You clamp down around his fingers, still pulsing long after the peak.

But Sam doesn’t stop.

He fucks you through it, relentless, tongue flicking your overstimulated clit while his fingers stroke inside you, dragging every last ripple of pleasure out of you until you’re sobbing his name.

“S-Sam, oh my God, please—”

He finally pulls back, licking his lips like he just tasted something divine, and kisses the inside of your thigh with a soft, worshipful sigh.

“You always taste like heaven,” he murmurs, voice low and ruined.

You collapse into him the second he stands, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lifts you effortlessly off the ground. He kisses you then—really kisses you—slow and messy and aching, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“Can’t believe I got this lucky,” he whispers against your mouth. “You’re fucking perfect.”

You laugh breathlessly, dizzy and blissed out. “We’re in a library, Sam.”

He grins. “Exactly. Best study break of my life.”

You nuzzle into his chest, still catching your breath as he smooths your skirt back down, both of you flushed and giggling like idiots.

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹ navigation : all works ; guidelines ; let's be friends .ᐟ

[clinicallyclara2]

𓍯𓂃 sam winchester x fem!reader | MDNI

your teeth sunk into sam's flesh, your walls tightening around his cock. you loved to bite, especially during sex.

"mhmm, my pretty baby..." sam murmured from below you, his eyes hooded and filled with lust. his hands gripped tightly onto your hips, large fingers trailing patterns into the skin.

"sam! s..so big–mhmm." you were able to moan out as he thrust his cock deeper into your pink pussy—which soaked his shaft more.

you bit down harder, pulling a whine from sam. you'd never heard him make that noise before, so it fueled you to keep going. you bounced up and down on him, his tip brushing against your cervix every time you'd sink back down onto his thick cock.

his grip on your hips tightened, most likely going to leave a bruise. not that you minded, for you too were marking him. teeth imprints littered his skin, deep, yet not deep enough to where he'd bleed.

"c'mon baby, cum on my dick–use me, pretty girl.." he muttered, his head falling back against the headboard. the bed was creaking from the force of your hips rolling into his—chasing your own release.

"sam!" you cried out, gushing around his cock. whines and moans left your tips as your orgasm came over you, strong.

you swear you heard sam whimper your name as he came, a warm pearly substance filling you up—your womb and velvety walls coated white. his dick now had a pretty white ring around the base. his hands still placed on your hips, looser now, as your eyes admired the marks left on his body.

sam could die a happy man just like this.

sunny yaps! VERY SHORT SAM SMUT!! i want to bite him. HERE U GUYS GOOO!!

special tags! @bluemerakis @dulcescorderitas @figthoughts @h8aaz

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ® 𓂃 do not repost or copy my works without permission!!

[clinicallyclara2]

✶ . ၄၃ . soft 'n sleepy — sam winchester

cw : gn!afab!reader, fluffy smut, consensual somnophilia, dry humping, finger sucking, praise, so super sweet sam, swearing, praise, aftercare, pet names (angel, honey, baby), unedited, 1.3K words. requested ! MDNI !!! 18+ ONLY

summary : it doesn't take you long to fall asleep after a long hunt. sam, however, can't seem to fall asleep or keep his hands dick to himself.

you're so pretty and soft every time you fall asleep in his arms. sam just loves it when you're sleepy, eyes bleary and fluttering closed, lips parting and little puffs of breath leaving your nose as he tucks you against his chest.

this hunt was draining, especially for you, and you fall asleep quickly now that it's over. sometimes, all he needs to follow right after you is your presence. having you close is so reassuring, comforting. but tonight, it’s not nightmares or guilt that he’s worried about disrupting his sleep. instead, it’s your closeness that keeps him awake.

your thighs against his, the little shift of your hips that pushes your ass right into his crotch. your soft, even breathing, and your limp fingers splayed across his wrist. he’s been aching for you, but hasn’t said a thing, knowing how tired you are.

and he’d feel guilty about the growing bulge in his pants as he thinks about your pretty chest under the loose fabric of your comfy shirt, the grey panties you fell asleep in, your bare thighs. but you’ve told him, most definitely more than once, that you like the idea of him getting off in bed with you while you’re asleep. you’d used the words “you can use me like that. it’s okay, i promise.” he replays the sound of your pretty voice saying it, sincere and flirty all at once, and he just gets harder. “i want it,” you’d said. you want him to use you like that.

so he really just can’t resist gently tugging you closer, pulling your ass flush against him, and wrapping his other arm around you to softly cup your chest over your shirt. he gives a roll of his hips into you and bites back a quiet groan. and with that, he’s a goner.

you had the sense to get a separate room from dean when arriving at the motel, so as sam gets needier and needier, slowly rocking his hips into you, he doesn’t bother silencing his quickening breath and soft moans. he only keeps his sounds quiet for your sake, though he’s sure you’ll wake eventually.

his hand slides down from your hips, under your shirt, past the sensitive skin of your lower belly, and right over your thinly clothed pussy. he can’t help it, he just loves to hold you there, his hand hot and heavy as he cups your pretty cunt. he groans softly at the feeling, pressing into you with both his hand and hips now.

you stir, just a bit, letting out a little huff of breath through your mouth that just makes him grind against your ass with more desperation. and when a sweet, gravelly moan leaves your lips, he can’t help but indulge himself. the hand that was so softly palming your chest moves upwards, fingertips brushing over your collarbone until he has a gentle grip on your chin. with your lips parted just enough, he’s able to push his finger past your teeth and into the warm wet of your mouth.

he feels your tongue instinctively push against the intrusion and you draw in a deep breath through your nose as you start to rouse. his other hand starts to rub soft circles against the fabric of your panties and despite how painfully hard and turned on he is, even the rocking of his hips against you is gentle, caring, and slow.

a quiet, throaty groan falls from his lips and right into your ear as he feels your lips wrap around his finger, followed by your sweet, sleepy suckling, signaling that you’ve woken and immediately accepted his filthy actions. with your mind still so foggy with sleep, you don’t seem to have much control over your body. your hips squirm tiredly, pushing back into him, and the way that you suck on his finger is unabashed and interrupts the stillness of the room with wet, sloppy sounds. in mere seconds, there’s saliva dripping down his fingers and past the corners of your mouth.

despite your wordless enthusiasm, and the way that his clothed dick pushing into the plush of your ass makes him practically whimper into your ear, sam pauses his desperate movements against you for just a moment.

“this okay, baby?” he whispers sweetly, gruffly because he’s holding back. one of your clumsy hands finds his wrist, wrapping around it in reassurance.

“mhmm,” you hum around his finger, too sleepy to do much else, but wanting him to know that this is more than okay.

“good,” he huffs out, his hips rolling against yours with more urgency now, voice thick with barely contained desperation. “you’re so good. so good for me, aren’t you, angel? so perfect and pretty, letting me– mmph, use ya while you’re still sleeping. always so– god, so fuckin’ good for me.”

his hand rubbing against your pussy, his fingertips pressing over your clit, are making you just as desperate as him, and the feeling of him pushing a second finger into your mouth only intensifies the pleasure. you suck on his fingers contentedly, and the both of you leak through your underwear enough for the other to feel it.

along with the quiet drip from the janky sink in the bathroom and rush of a shitty window air conditioning unit, the room fills with soft grunts and whines and moans, the rustle of overused blankets, sam’s praises, and your sweet suckling. sam cums first, soaking his boxers and the back of your panties. the sound of his broken moan in your ear and the insistence of his fingers over your covered clit sends you reeling in pleasure just moments after.

he lets you keep lapping at his fingers as you come down from it, knowing the feeling quiets your mind. he’s positive that you’d fall right back asleep with his fingers in your mouth if he didn’t insist on cleaning you up first. so even though it makes you whine tiredly, he slowly slips his fingers out and gently pulls you around to face him.

his reverent lips find your forehead first, then your own spit-slick mouth. he kisses you all chaste and lovely, as if to apologize for waking you, despite it being so good for you too. the kiss is enough to satisfy you after having his fingers pulled away from your eager mouth, so you snuggle up close to him, not resisting the pull of sleep as it tugs down your heavy eyelids.

“honey,” he murmurs into the skin of your forehead, “let me clean you up first, please. then you can sleep as long as you want, promise.” you just give him a sleepy hum, but he rolls with it, untangling himself from you. he strips himself of his dirtied boxers, quickly pulling on a new pair before he pulls the blankets away from your legs. 

he slips your own soaked underwear off, watching your face, barely lit from whatever light seeps in through the blinds of the window by the door. your eyes are barely open, just because you want to watch him, and a soft smile tugs at your lips from his ever present sweetness and care. his heart jumps at the sight, so he covers your bare legs back to avoid giving you goosebumps from the cold, and slips away for a moment. not before leaving a kiss to the skin of your calf.

just moments later, he crawls back into the bed with a warm, dampened washcloth to deal with all the stickiness and a spare shirt because he admittedly got the back of your sleep shirt wet too. he cleans the mess on your skin first, then urges you to sit up just a bit with gentle hands and a tone of voice he know you won’t be able to resist.

“arms up,” he mumbles as he pulls the shirt off for you, then replaces it with one of his own soft, worn t-shirts. then he tucks you back into his chest and under the blankets, fighting off the sleep that was previously evading him until he feels you fall asleep first. then he sleeps like a damn rock and is woken in the morning by your lips on his neck.

[clinicallyclara2]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐭

→ premise: you in those damn jeans, those stupid jeans that fit you just right. your hips, your waist, your thighs. and god your ass in those jeans nearly had sam drooling. it was shameful he knew it but he couldn’t help it, not when your ass looked so prefect.

→ pairing: sam winchester x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, anal, caught masturbating, switch!sam? [he’s dominating but also jsut whiny and desperate?], nicknames [angel, baby], no lube or prep really for the anal part [i lowkey didn’t wanna write it lmao], not proofread

→ a/n: kinktober 17

It was pathetic, he was pathetic he knew that and yet he just couldn't care at the moment nor help himself. You looked so good he swore it was driving him clinically insane. So good that it was making his genius brain malfunction, and his downstairs ‘brain’ run on overdrive. 

He couldn't focus, could barely understand a word the witnesses were saying, it was all going in one ear and out the other. His eyes were just glued on you, on your body, on those stupid perfectly fitting jeans you wore. He felt like a hormonal teenager again, getting all worked up over a dumb pair of tight jeans on a woman. It didn't help that Sam has already been nursing a small crush on you that he’s had sense him and his brother met you. 

He had to bail on you and dean in the middle of the interviews, giving the both of you some excuse about not feeling the best and that maybe he needed some extra rest. Though in truth his pants were just getting tighter by the minute and his head getting foggier. He somehow managed to walk himself back to the motel, the short walk doing not a damn thing to clear his head. You in those fucking jeans, those jeans that hug your thighs and your wasit just right, those stupidly tight jeans that made your ass look so fucking bitable it was making him lose his mind. 

Even though muffled by his t-shirt pulled up and tucked between his teeth all that filled the quiet dingy motel room were Sams whines they were so loud. He was a mess the second he unbuckled his belt and shoved his pants and boxers down his thighs. His large hand furiously stroking up and down his aching cock, pulling strangled whimpers and cries from his lips. His precum leaking out from his tip acting as lube for his hand to glide along his shaft faster, squeezing it hard as he goes. 

He was already so close, it only added to his feeling of being pathetic, he really was a horny teenager now, he couldn't even last that long with his fist around his cock and his head filled with thoughts of you. You on top of him riding him as he whines, you under him your limbs an entangled mess as you pant and moan into his mouth. Him with his head buried between your thighs, you on your knees for him with your mouth stuffed full of his cock, any and all different kinds of images of you all over him. “Need you s’bad, s‘fuckin’ bad holy shit….” He hissed through his teeth in a hushed tone as his head fell back in pleasure, cries of your name and whines about how good you looked fall from his mouth like a waterfall the closer he gets to the edge.

“Hey Sam? Honey? you doing okay?” Your voice shattered the daydream going on in his head that was just about to make him cum. In shock and embarrassment his hand stills, inadvertently edging himself. The nickname only makes his cock twitch more as a short whine comes out of his mouth in response. He was caught and it should be embarrassing, humiliating even, you caught him jerking off in the middle of the day. He should be feeling anything else but what he was right now, It shouldn’t excite him that you caught him. But he was too far gone into a desperate type of head space to care at the moment. 

“Oh shit!, i'm sorry i didn't mean to barge in i thought you’d be napping” you babble out, covering your face as heat spreads through your body as you turn around and move like you're about to leave. As you turn sam gets an even better almost 360º view of your body, how the jeans cling to your thighs, the waistband snug around your waist, the denim looks practically painted on your ass, they were so tight.

“Need it s’bad, please i need you s’bad yoou dont have to leave” he whines out, you had already caught him so any composure or decorum he had has been thrown out the window alongside reason. He could be completely ruining your friendship at this moment, you could be disgusted with him and reject him but he was taking that risk cause he was desperate. 

Your body as if moving on its own accord, revealing your own hidden desires turns back around to face Sam, slowly taking your hands away from your face. Your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes scan over his body, his shirt tugged up and stuffed in his mouth exposing his chest, a small trail of hair leading down to where his hand is still wrapped tightly around his cock, a pleading look in his glazed over eyes. Slowly you make your way over to him spread out on the bed, your steps careful as if you were gonna spook him by moving too fast. “What- Uh- what do you need honey?” You question, still a bit confused and extremely nervous. You’d do anything to help Sam, and getting to see him like this all pathetic and desperate was a bonus that was making slick settle in your core and your thighs clench together. 

“I need you, want you s’bad” he whines out dropping his shirt from his mouth as he grabs ahold of your hand when you get close enough. Placing your hand on his stiff throbbing cock with his own, you let out a small gasp at the feeling of his warm cock under your touch. “This is what you do to me, you and ya’ fucking stupid tight jeans” he hissed out, letting go of your hand and taking note of the fact you dont move it off his cock he slaps your ass hard with his big hand resting and gropping at it after it comes down. 

“These damn jeans that make your ass look so good angel, so good that I couldn't focus, baby. Wanna fuck you s’bad, wanna fuck this ass” he was rambling now looking up at you with his signature puppy eyed look that made you melt. He was so hard it was getting painful, especially since he stopped himself right when he was gonna cum.

He's already thrown caution to the wind by this point, there was no going back.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You gave in. 

Willing to do whatever it took to make Sam feel better as well as the fact that all his begging had made you about just as desperate for him. He had you on his lap now, your back pressed against his bare chest. He was quick to strip you of all your clothes, eyes glued to the way he had to practically peel your jeans off your body. Your thighs were spread and laid over his legs that he had bent up, his feet planted flat on the bed. 

Your head was spinning from the feeling of his rough hands exploring every inch of your body. Palming at your tits and his thumb flicking your nipples, squeezing your waist when you squirm in his grasp and grind your ass against him. His lips were mouthing and kissing along your neck, tongue poking out to lick up the side and even behind your ear, sucking patches of small hickies onto the unmarked skin. Your body relaxed more and more in his arms as Sam said; “Need you real relaxed for this angel okay? As bad as i want this i don't wanna hurt ya’” you were certainly relaxed once his thumb started rubbing circles over your bundle of nerves, sighing in a mixture of pleasure and relief. You whine softly as your pussy aches, begging for release already as your folds are dripping in slick, a trail of it sliding down your cunt to your ass even. 

Lifting his hips his tip nudges at the tight ring of muscle of your ass, his precum that hasn't stopped leaking as well as his spit that coated his cock acted as your only form of lube as he bullies his thick cock inside. With a broken gasp in both pain and pleasure at the new sensation you dig your nails into the flesh of his forearm that was wrapped around your stomach holding you against him. “Sam~ Honey- Fuck!” You blabber out in a string of jumbled together moans, losing track of where you were gonna go with your sentence once his cock pushes all the way inside, your hole sucking his cock inside. 

“Atta’ girl, s’good f’me angel. God your ass is so fuckin’ tight” he cries out, he was already still on edge from just his fist but this feeling was gonna send him flying over it faster than he wanted. The pleasure of his cock filing your ass as well as his thumb which hasn't stopped playing with your clit has your pussy clenching around nothing. 

“Baby, m’not gonna last long, it's too much” you moan out as his hips buck up and thrust into you, settling at a fast and relentless pace not giving you any more time to get adjusted. “It’s okay baby, it’s okay, j’ cum, just cum for me angel” he nods his head frantically, moans and desperate cries fill the room and you don't know what sounds are coming from who as you clench down on him. 

Your body tensing up and your eyes screwing shut as your climax washes over you, a loud wanton moan falling out of your mouth. Worry about the other residents hearing anything long since past, Sam even felt a small ego boost knowing they were hearing you scream out his name. His hips not stopping their hard thrusting, Sam too lost in pleasure with his head buried in your neck as his cock pounds your ass making you see stars as you cum. 

“Feel so good angel, holy shit squeezin’ me even tighter as you cum shit~” he groans out, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine as his breath fans across your ear. Your cum leaks out of your pussy, sliding down to Sams cock giving it even more slick for him to fuck up into you harder and faster, chasing his own orgasm. 

“Gonna cum angel, but dont think im done with ya’ when i do, need to fuck that pretty pussy too. Been dreamin’ about that sense we met, need to make you all mine” he cries out as he turns your face towards his and crashes his lips against yours, kissing you like a man starved. His moans are muffled into the kiss as well as more whines of your name as he cums hard.

→ a/n: AHHHH last day of kinktober is tomorrow!! Im hoping i get to post the last day on halloween but i might not so if i dont expect it nov