#i just want to see him okay!!!!! i want to see him wrapped up in a big thick puffy comforter eating noodle soup with saltines!!!!!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

f1llover · 2 days

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LIST - LANDO NORRIS

summary: Lando and his girlfriend make a list

warnings: smut

Lando and I had a list. It wasn't a normal list like a shopping list. It was a slightly...different list. When we started dating, I wasn't very experienced in sex, so Lando and I made a list of places and things we wanted to do in our most intimate moments.

The beach

It was a very hot evening. Lando wanted to go out for dinner, but I had food ready in the fridge, so we decided to go for a walk along the beach. When we got there, there was no one around. We sat on the sand for a while until he lightly brushed our lips together.

What was supposed to be a kiss turned into something bigger and before we knew it, Lando was on top of me, kissing my neck.

"Are you sure? We don't have to do this now," Lando asks me, pulling away from my neck a little, while I look around to see that the beach is still empty.

"It's okay, it's just us," I whisper and he kisses my neck again, while running his hands up my legs. I quickly slip my hands under his t-shirt and caress his muscles.

He unbuttons my pants and pulls them down with my panties. He removes his T-shirt and I move my hands to his pants, pulling them down along with his boxers.

He reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out a condom. I smile at him as he puts the latex on his cock.

"Were you expecting that?" He smiles at me too and nods, then places the tip against my clitoris.

"I thought we were going to do this in the car, but I like it better here"

I let out a laugh that is soon replaced by a moan from me and a sigh from Lando when he finally enters me.

He starts with slow thrusts, but when I wrap my legs around his waist, he starts to move faster, making me moan louder. He presses our lips together to muffle our moans. I also wrapped my arms around his neck, trying to bring our bodies closer together, which was almost impossible.

"Baby..."

Lando put his head on my neck and began to leave kisses all over my skin

"Come on baby, I'm almost there too"

I arched my back and felt Lando squeeze my waist when we cum at the same time

Our breathing becomes ragged as he lies against my chest.

"Baby...?"

He lifts his head and smiles, leaving a kiss on my forehead.

"I know, we have to go before someone comes along"

We dressed quickly and held hands, heading for the car to drive home.

One less thing on the list

2. Wearing his shirt

After several races since January, summer vacation has finally arrived. Lando and I decided to go with our friends to the French Islands. It was very hot, so we went to the beach almost every day.

After another day under the sun and being in the water, we head back to the hote. Lando and Max spend some more time in the hotel lobby playing pool, while Pietra and I go to our rooms.

Arriving at my room shared with Lando, I head straight for the bathroom. I take off my clothes and quickly step into the warm water. I take a quick shower and when I get out of the bathroom, I head for my suitcase. I try to find a baggy t-shirt, but when I don't, I go to Lando's bag, grabbing a McLaren t-shirt with Lando's name and number on the back. I take my book and go out onto the balcony, sitting down on the small bench there.

A few minutes later, I hear the door open and suddenly I hear Lando's voice

"Fuck's sake, God damn it"

I take my eyes off my book and look back, seeing Lando standing in the middle of the hotel room

"What? What's wrong? What happened?"

He slowly approaches me, looking at my body

"My shirt... on you. You're so fucking hot"

I let out a laugh and stand up, putting my book down on the table.

"Really? I didn't know you liked seeing me in your t-shirt." I move closer to him, when I get close he pulls me by the waist.

"Fuck I'm going to fuck you like this" He pushes me to the wall and attacks my neck.

I let out several moans and close my eyes, knowing that his lips would leave a mark for tomorrow. He moves his hands down to my thighs and pulls me up, making me jump and wrap my legs around his waist.

I press our lips together and he brings one of his hands between my legs. He pulls my shorts and panties aside and slips a finger inside me. I lean my head against the wall and move my waist slightly against his finger.

He adds another finger and I let out more moans. I wrap my arms around Lando's neck to hold myself up. Lando takes advantage and removes his fingers from me and pulls his cock out of his pants. He starts spreading pre-cum all over his erection.

In one swift movement he puts me down again and slaps my ass.

"Turn to the wall and wait"

I turn with my back to the wall and lean my forehead against it. I hear Lando opening something and then coming closer. I look over and see him putting the condom on

"I'm going to start taking the pill," I whisper as he gets closer, pressing the tip of his cock into my clitoris.

"I think that's a good idea," Lando smiles and soon he's inside me. I let out a loud sigh and push my ass up, resting my hands on the wall

"Shit, my name looks so good on your back" I continue to moan and sigh, along with Lando.

I feel his hands go up my back and Lando grabs my hair, then pulls lightly. He brings his mouth close to my neck and begins to leave kisses and marks all over my neck and back of my neck, while he increases his thrusts

I bite my lip as I feel my orgasm hit and wash over my body. Lando lets out an even louder moan and with one last thrust he buries himself in me, cumming hard.

He pulls out of me and turns me towards him. We go to bed and he lays me down, then walks to the bathroom and takes a damp towel and runs it over my hot body.

He lies down next to me and I rest my head on his chest, feeling his heart beat faster as I get closer

3. Dressing room

After a horrible free practice, where Lando ran into the barriers, he passes everyone in the pit box, completely angry. I follow him into his room and knock on the door.

"Baby, it's me. Can I come in?"

I hear some grumbling and something fall to the floor.

"Sure"

I slowly open the door and see his helmet on the floor next to the small bed he had in his room. I see him unzip his racing suit and sit down on the bed.

"I just screw up," Lando whispers with his head between his hands. I walk over and sit down next to him. I take his hands away from his face and smile slightly

"No, you don't. They said it was the car's problem, not yours. You couldn't have done anything." I caressed his hand as he looked down at the ground.

"If I hadn't braked so much on lap 16..." I touch his face with my hand and nod.

"No. You can't blame yourself for something that wasn't your fault. And it was only practice. The engineers will see what happened and improve the car so you're ready for qualifying and the race."

He turns his face to me and smiles slightly

"Thank you, love. That made me feel a little better" He whispers and I move closer, leaning our foreheads together

"I know how to make you even better"

I bring our lips together and place my hands on Lando's chest, slowly pushing him to lie down on the small bed. I pull down his suit and the rest of his clothes, watching his cock bounce against his abdomen. When I get up to get the condoms from his backpack, Lando lifts his body and looks at me.

"Take your clothes off too. I like to see your breasts swaying as you ride me."

I feel my cheeks redden a little, but I nod. I hand Lando the condom and start to take off all my clothes. When I'm naked, I see Lando smiling mischievously at me. I walk over to him and sit on his lap.

"We can scratch the idea of having sex in your dressing room too," I whisper and raise my waist, then sit down on Lando.

"Yes, babygirl" he mumbles against my lips and I continue to sit on Lando, making my breasts bounce against his chest.

He holds one of my breasts and kisses down to the other. I let out more moans and grab Lando's hair, pulling on it. He switches breasts, giving the same attention to the other and I let out louder moans and sighs.

With a few more sits, I feel the knot in my stomach explode. Lando holds my waist and raises his head, looking at me. He gives a few sloppy thrusts and cums inside the condom.

I rest my head on Lando's shoulder, taking a deep breath. A few minutes later, we hear a noise at the door.

"Lando, we're waiting for you for the interviews." Oscar's voice echoes in Lando's room and I let out a low laugh.

"Yes, I'll be right there. One moment"

I lie down on the bed and stare at Lando as he gets dressed. He looks at me and before he leaves, he leaves a kiss on my forehead.

"Stay here until I get back. I won't be long"

One less thing on the list.

#lando norris smut #lando norris #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris x reader #lando x y/n #lando x you #smut

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mostly-imagines · 1 day

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The Alchemy I

jason todd x fem!reader

aka the progression of your relationship with the red hood

warnings: slow burn, mentions of attempted sa for reader, depictions of blood and injury, mentions of standard gotham violence

Dear fuck, he’s as heavy as he looks.

You use all of your weight to pull him backwards towards the couch, almost giving up when you realized you’d have to lift him up off the ground to actually get on it.

Getting him through the window was enough of a hassle, challenging the difficulty of the decision to bring him in here at all.

Thankfully you don’t have to think too hard on it because you feel his body stiffen up suddenly. He jolts upright, though clearly pained to do so, hand flying to the gun holster on his side.

You take a step back, hands out in front of you. “Hey, it’s alright.”

“Who are you?” His voice is interrogative.

You put your hands down, “You’re the one who passed out on my balcony, I think if anyone gets to ask that question it’s me.”

He stares at you, white lenses bearing into your soul.

Okay, yeah. You tell him your name. He doesn’t move. “You just looked like you needed some help..”

His posture loosens a bit, and his hand finally leaves the holster.

He glances down at his abdomen, a sizable tear in his suit and a nearly alarming amount of blood. “You got any bandages?”

“Uh, I—yeah, yeah, I do.” You dart down the hall into the bathroom, shuffling through your first aid kid. You toss a few wraps into your arms, along with some antiseptic spray you suspect he’ll need. You grab your hand towel and get it wet under warm water.

When you return, he’s moved himself onto the sofa, lifting his shirt up to assess the damage. You round the couch, seeing more blood than you’d have hoped for.

“Can I?” You ask, motioning to his injury.

He looks up at you for a long moment. He nods.

You kneel down in front of him and replace his hand in lifting up the shirt. It’s a cut, it doesn’t look terribly deep, but still not shallow enough that he could just leave it.

You take the rag and dab it around the wound, trying to clean up the blood as much as possible without making contact with it.

He’s very still as you work, and you get the strong impression he’s watching you carefully.

You grab the antiseptic spray, shaking it. “This’ll sting.”

He grunts.

You apply the antiseptic thoroughly and he doesn’t even flinch. Doesn’t move his gaze from you for a second.

You unwrap one of the bandages and place it on firmly, making sure there’s no bleedthrough.

And not that you particularly want to be thinking about this right now, but the man is noticeably ripped. Stacked like a house of cards.

You rip away your gaze and stand up, hands on your hips, taking a deep breath. You look at him—at his helmet.

You don’t know how you can tell, but he’s studying you. Trying to get a read on you, maybe. Regardless, you’re eager to escape the gaze.

You shovel the remainder of your supplies back into your arms and bring them back to the bathroom, calling out, “I didn’t take off your helmet, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

There’s a short beat.

“Do I seem like someone that worries often?”

You peek your head out of the bathroom door.

You look at him. “You seem like someone that doesn’t worry enough.”

He snorts. “You’re not far off.”

You make your way back once you’re done, looking at the disregarded meal you’d been interrupted from. “I have pasta if you…eat.”

“I do.”

“I can go in the other room if you—”

He clicks the lock on his helmet, taking it off. He’s left with a second mask underneath, covering his eyes and nose. His dark hair sticks up from the helmet, a white streak poking out in the front. He looks younger than you would’ve expected. Cuter, if his jaw is anything to go by.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Okay then.

You grab a second plate out of the cabinet and scoop on the rest of the pasta from the pan.

You hand him the plate, avoiding standing too close.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

You turn back around as casually as possible after hearing the name, wanting to avoid letting your face give anything away.

This guy kills people, right?

You sit down in the armchair across from the couch, spooling the pasta on and off the fork. He doesn’t show the same hesitation in dining away that you do—you guess fighting crime would require some calorie exchange.

“You a nurse?” He asks after a few minutes.

The question takes you by surprise. You hadn’t taken him as a small talk kind of person. “Huh? Oh, no, I’ve just taken a few first aid courses and stuff.”

He gives a short hum, thoughtful.

“What?”

“You’re good.” Hardly.

“I didn’t really do anything.”

“You did enough.” He says, not leaving much room for argument.

He stands up at once, walking past you to the kitchen. Your gaze follows him silently. He puts his empty plate in the sink and returns to the edge of the living room.

He looks at you once more and pops his helmet back on followed by the click of the lock.

“I’ll see ya.” He says shortly, before ducking out the window.

You’re left alone, sitting in your armchair, plate of cold pasta forgotten on your lap.

That could’ve gone very badly. Maybe not your most thought-through decision to literally drag the Red Hood into your apartment, but hey. Maybe you’re exercising your ability to be an upstanding, helpful person. Or maybe you were just hoping to prevent a vigilante being found dead on your fire escape.

Regardless, you close the window after him, leaving it unlocked. Just in case.

You wake in the middle of the night to the sounds of footsteps in your living room. You shoot upright, immediately spotting the lamp light flooding in from under your door.

Creeping to a stand, you grab the baseball bat next to your bed and slowly walk to the door.

You creep the door open as quietly as possible, inching out half a step at a time. A nearby creak on your floorboards had you swinging blindly, only to have your bat get stopped midair. You look up to see Mr. Hood himself, blocking the blow of your hit with his hand.

“Wow. You and a bat against Gotham, huh, sweetheart?”

“Fuck!” You let go of the bat and drown your face in your hands. “What is wrong with you?”

“Apparently that I don’t carry enough baseball bats with me.” He says coolly, inspecting your bat. Though he’s got to admit, your bat is probably a hell of a lot more useful than his.

You drop your arms at your side. “If I’d known bringing you into my apartment one time was going to be considered a free pass forever, I might’ve thought twice.”

“If I’d known I was going to nearly be concussed with a baseball bat, I might’ve too.” Barely. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’re still half asleep and it was not a very good swing.

He looks at you straight on for the first time. His helmet quickly drifts down and back up to your face just as fast.

You look down. T-Shirt, underwear, and…no that’s it. Not…ideal. You pull down on the unfortunately not at all oversized shirt, wanting to creep back into your room.

He turns his back, allowing you to do just that and scramble for some shorts to throw on.

“Very gentlemanly of you.” You call out from your room, “And only thirty seconds after breaking into my apartment.”

“Okay, one, I’ve been here longer than that. In a non creepy way.”

“Right.”

“And two, I didn’t break anything. You live in the middle of Gotham and don’t lock your window?”

You reemerge in the doorway, “I live on the eighth floor.”

He turns around to face you again, helmet in his hands. “Didn’t stop me.” No it did not.

“Mm. So are you here specifically to judge my home security or was there something you needed?”

He takes a deep breath, “Actually yeah. I just need a place to rest for a minute.”

“Rest from what?”

A series of gunshots echo from down the street.

“Next question.”

Concise.

You and Hood sit on the couch in the dark, per his insistence, because for some godforsaken reason, you have no curtains. It takes a few minutes for the silence to dissipate into forced conversation, which takes a few more minutes to fade into actual conversation.

“Can I be honest with you?” You ask him.

“Does it matter how I answer?”

“I don’t understand how you’re not dead.” You poke your head up, turning to him. “Are you human?”

He cranes his neck to look out the window, “Maybe getting shot at isn’t the worst thing that could happen tonight…”

You roll your eyes with a smile that you’re glad is hidden by the darkness. “Oh, fuck off.”

“You don’t have much in terms of self-preservation skills, do you?”

You ignore him as to not acknowledge that he’s probably right and roll through to your next curiosity, “Who the hell was shooting at you anyways?” Though, you don’t really expect an answer.

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. They got ‘til sunrise anyway.”

You tilt your head, “‘Til sunri—” oh. Yeah. Come to think of it, he does have two guns on him right now. At least that you can see. You squint blankly at the wall, “You know, I’m placing a lot of trust in the hope that you’re not just as bad as those guys.”

“Yes you are.” He nods, not doing anything to convince you that he is in fact a good guy. He hasn’t tried to harm you in any way though, so you guess that’s a good sign.

You tilt your head at him. “Do you get paid to do this?”

“I’m pretty sure there’s a lot of people who would pay me not to do this.”

You nod solemnly, mouth turned into an exaggerated frown. “So you have a day job?”

He looks over at you, “Do you always ask this many questions?”

“Are you always so dodgy about answering them?” You shoot back. If you’d thought for .5 seconds longer on that, you might not have said anything. But you feel comfortable here, in your apartment with a man whose face you’ve never seen, name you don’t know, and always has at least two loaded guns on him.

He huffs out a laugh, “Yeah. I am.” He looks over at you. “You live here by yourself?”

You look around at the empty apartment before turning back to him, “Seems that way.”

He shrugs, “Boyfriend could be out or something.”

“Well most people are asleep at one in the morning. Like I was. Remember that?”

“No.”

You sigh, curling up into a ball on your end of the couch, resting your chin on your knees. You’re quiet for a minute before piping up, “Do people actually break into apartments on high floors a lot?”

“Stupid people.” He pauses, looking over at the frown on your face. “Look, I’m in the neighborhood a lot. If I see somebody climbing your fire escape I’ll shoot them.”

You let a little smile out, “I’m thinking there’s other steps you could take before you get to that point.”

“If you want to waste time.” His gaze doubles back at you, “That was a joke, by the way.”

You bark out a tired laugh, “Yeah, I picked up on that, thanks.”

He removes his eyes from you, fixing on a set of pictures you have hanging on the wall.

Your eyes flutter and you move to rest your head on the arm of the couch. “Is this going to be a regular thing then?”

“You could lock your window.”

“Living on the eighth floor didn’t stop you, I can’t imagine a shitty lock will do much more.”

“If you don’t want me here, I won’t be here.” He says gruffly.

“If I don’t want you here, I’ll let you know.” You mumble, eyes closing.

You can barely make out a laugh from him, “Good to know.”

You’re not quite sure how much time goes by when he leaves, but you have a pretty strong feeling you’d fallen asleep. Your main indicator was feeling the blanket draped nicely over you that you could’ve sworn was on the chair across the room.

Maybe it’s ten o’clock at night and you’re sat on your kitchen floor, bawling your eyes out. Maybe you’re going to have to quit your job. Or maybe you’ll have to face a lawsuit. Maybe this is the worst day in the history of time. Maybe it’s about to get worse.

The sound of your living room window sliding open has you startling into a rush, body panicking as if you’ve done something wrong and desperately need to cover the evidence. The past few weeks of sporadic visits leaves no question about who it is, and you just hope the kitchen island in front of you will be enough to convince Hood that you’re not in and he’ll leave.

But because today is today, that’s not how it goes down.

You can vaguely make out the sound of his footsteps approaching, a courtesy that you’re sure he incorporated on purpose.

“Oh fuck…” you mutter to yourself, wiping your eyes.

He rounds the counter, looking down at you. “Wha—what’s wrong?”

“Fuck. Nothing.” You say, standing up and adjusting your clothes. “Are you hurt?” He better fucking not be at only ten.

“No, I—why are you on the floor?”

You roll your eyes, “I live alone, forgive me for assuming I would be given the privilege to cry on the floor in private.”

“Did something happen?” You’re trying really hard not to call him an idiot.

You raise your eyebrows, giving a light nod. “Uh, yeah, I’d say so.”

He shifts in his stance, “Do I need to talk to someone?”

You scoff, knowing damn well his version of ‘talk to someone’ does not include talking to someone. “Why are you even here so early?”

“Wanted to stop by before I went out.” he says quietly.

You’re about to snap something at him again, but the burning in your eyes takes immediate priority. You wrap your arms around your middle and try to calm yourself down, with very little success. The tears fall easily and your shoulders start shaking as you look at the floor, letting the melancholy take over.

It feels like much longer than it probably was, but sometime after the first few tears fall he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. This only makes you cry harder, sobbing against his armor. Your arms stay wrapped around your center, while his hands remain completely still against your back, though firm. You don’t realize it immediately, but he’s holding a good portion of your weight up, you’d for sure collapse onto the floor otherwise. You kind of wish you would. Sitting on the floor felt nice, maybe falling down on it will feel even better.

You slowly start to regain your breathing, the well in your eyes drying up again. He waits for you to stop completely and slowly pulls back from you, hands momentarily still wavering next to you like he’s ready to catch you.

It takes you a minute to notice, but his helmet is locked on to the finger-shaped bruises on your forearm. You awkwardly move your opposite arm to cover them, looking around your apartment with nothing to search for.

He’s quiet for a long while, clearly thinking hard. “What happened?”

You sniffle, “Some asshole at my job.”

“Some asshole?” He doesn’t believe you. Rightfully so, but he has no business being able to tell that you’re lying about one single word in that sentence.

“My boss. Was very intent on successfully hitting on me.” You exhale deeply, “His approach could use some work though, if I’m honest.”

His posture remains statue-like. “Where do you work?”

You look at him straight on for the first time that night, “What does that matter?”

“I’ll take care of it.” He says simply.

You wave him off, “It’s fine.”

He waits a moment before letting you know, “I’m being polite by asking, I’m going to find out either way.”

You plop back down on the kitchen floor, knees to chest. “Well, then do it the hard way.”

About ten seconds of him staring down at you in silence go by, before he sits down next to you. It’s a bit funny how he tries to shrink himself down next to you, you’re assuming because he doesn’t want you to get panicked again because this massive stranger is sitting next to you in your kitchen in the dead of night.

You don’t look at him as he clicks his helmet off and sets it on the other side of him. It’s quiet for another minute when he holds his gloved hand out to you, and you’re not quite sure how you know what he wants, but you do. You place your bruised arm in his hand, letting him gently pull it closer to him and scan over it.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Again, you don’t know how, but you can tell he’s asking how far things went. “I started screaming and it freaked him out. He let me go.” you say numbly.

You can see him nod out of the corner of your eye, bits of red making their way into your peripheral despite the discarded helmet. You turn slowly to look at him, finding him looking at you already.

His face is more covered than it had been the first night, the same black mask covers his eyes but the lower half of his face is also hidden by a red mouthpiece. You’re in the lamp light and closer to him than you had been before and you’re counting out specks of green in his blue eyes. He lets you, to your surprise, and when you run out of emerald hues you take focus on his thick, dark eyelashes. Your gaze moves back ever so slightly to make eye contact with him and you tear your eyes away, zeroing in on the kitchen tiles.

You sigh contemplatively, “I’m worried if you kill my boss it’ll be traced back to me and I’ll get pinned for it.”

He doesn’t laugh. But your delivery was a little dry in the wrong way so really it was on you.

“I’m not going to kill him.” he tells you, “I wouldn’t gamble with my pied-a-terre like that.”

Your head falls back, hitting the drawer behind you with a light thud. “Then why waste your time at all?” Maybe you should slow down with the snide comments.

He wants to, but he doesn’t call out the implied self-slighting in your words. “Maybe it’s a ‘me’ thing but I don’t particularly like men that hurt women.”

You let out a dry laugh. “In Gotham, it just might be.”

He sits with you on the linoleum tile of your kitchen until your eyes start to droop and he lightly corrals you to your bedroom before taking his exit through the window. You told him multiple times that he could go and you were fine, but he insisted that nothing important was happening in the city that time of night. You didn’t quite believe him though, because it was past midnight by the time he’d headed out.

When you showed up to work the following day your boss wasn’t there. Wasn’t there the day after either. Or the day after. He didn’t make an appearance again until the following Monday. And when he did show face, he did so with a neck brace and a cast on his leg. But once more, he absolutely refused to make eye contact or speak to any of the female employees. It actually became a whole thing when he wouldn’t give instructions or feedback to any of you, and insisted on having his secretary replaced with a man, who he then used as a middle man to speak to all of the women for him. HR got involved three times in the span of the next five days, and by the Monday after, he’d been fired.

So to recap: yes, no, no, undecided, and hard no.

Maybe you’re really starting to like this Red Hood guy.

Hard yes.

You’re slightly on guard upon hearing a clattering on the balcony, though if the past few weeks have been any indicator, you’re not in much danger.

Your posture slumps as you peer around the hallway corner, “Oh, it’s you.”

“Good to see you too.” he grumbles, dropping onto the floor.

“Well, I have to imagine I’m a step up from the last person you saw.” You say, looking him up and down, seeing what sure as hell looks like a gunshot wound on his chest armor. “What happened to you? The Mad Hatter uses guns now?”

He groans, “Ah, I said something about him being a heartless fuck, and I guess he took it personally.”

You sigh, “Jesus Christ, Hood.”

He waves you off, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

You scoff, “He tried to shoot you in the heart.”

“Yeah, well, he missed.” He grumbles, adjusting his position on the couch.

You exhale sharply, “How do you know?”

“How do I know?” He tilts his helmet at you, exasperated.

You throw your arms up at your side, “I don’t know! I’m not equipped for this scenario.”

He huffs, “Look, it’s fine, it hit my armor. It’ll probably just be a bad bruise.”

“Probably?”

“I don’t think there’s blood. Could you…” he vaguely gestures to his torso, but it's enough for you to get the hint.

You shake the panic out of your head, “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

You help him shrug off his jacket as he strips off his armor, and you lift his shirt up as slowly as you can in case the injury is worse than he thinks.

You’re not shocked to see that he has scars, that’s kind of a given in his line of work. What you are shocked to see is one very long scar that lines directly up the center of his body. It’s a deep scar, too.

And, oh. The long scar extends further, splitting off into a fork at his collar. That’s—oh. Oh. Oh. That is an autopsy scar.

You’re not sure what to do. You’ve never seen a living person with an autopsy scar—though you have to imagine neither have most people.

He clearly does not want to talk about it and you’re happy to let him keep the skeleton in the closet.

You avert your gaze back over to his diaphragm at the area of reddened skin.

“There’s no blood, but…” You inspect it a bit closer, “I think there’s going to be a bad bruise. You might end up with bruising on your ribs, you need to get that looked at.”

“I am.” He says shortly.

You stand up straight, dropping your shoulders. “By someone who went to medical school. Or has taken more than one anatomy class in their life.”

He yanks down his shirt, standing, apparently too quickly, and wobbling. You catch his arm as he sways, attempting to steady him. “You should sit down.”

“Need to go back out.” He grunts, trying to pull away from you with little force.

“To get killed? ‘Cause you’re going the right way about it.”

He tilts his head at you like he’s daring you to be so bold again. At least that's what it felt like. You sigh, gesturing to the couch, “Sit down.”

You didn’t expect it to work but he does as told.

You look around, unsure of what to do next. “Do you need ice?”

“What?”

“You’re hurt.” You say slower. “Do you need ice?”

He falters for a second, “No, it’s—no.” A couple beats pass before he adds, “Thanks, sweetheart.”

It’s impossible not to notice that he’s staring at you. You feel hot under his gaze, not knowing what to do with yourself. You clear your throat, telling him to hang on for a second.

You call out behind you as you walk to the kitchen, “Take your helmet off, it’s rude.” You grab the painkillers from their new easily-accessible place on the kitchen counter and grab a water bottle from the fridge.

It was a joke but when you come back his helmet is off and he’s just wearing his domino eye mask. His hair is extra tousled, the white streak barely visible in the mess of loose curls. You toss the bottle of meds at him, followed by the capped bottle of water. He catches them easily, downing more than he probably should have but he got shot tonight so you figure you’ll give him a break about it.

You plop down on the couch next to him, honestly closer than you’d meant to. Your knees and shoulders lightly brush against one anothers, though neither of you make any moves to scoot over.

You both look straight ahead at the wall, simmering in the amity. “So did somebody else deal with the Hatter or when you get shot do you just bounce back like a T-1000?”

He scoffs, “No, getting shot at is a bit of an inconvenience for me.”

“Wrong line of work.”

He cocks an eyebrow, “You’re telling me.”

You turn your head to him, “Why do you do it then?”

He looks back at you earnestly. “Someone has to.”

“Someone does.”

He tenses up a bit at that, breaking eye contact. “Not well enough.”

Your head slowly lulls and drops into a rest on his shoulder, causing him to stiffen up a bit more before almost completely relaxing.

“So violence is the answer to violence?” you ask, not argumentative, just genuinely musing.

Hood sighs, “Half-assed reform programs didn’t do anything, shitty ‘crisis interventions’ didn’t do anything, the cops sure as hell don’t do anything.” He shrugs under you. “You run out of options eventually.”

“And that’s why you took it upon yourself to intervene?”

“Mm. ‘When reason fails, the devil helps.’” He says, quite melodramatically, in your opinion.

“I-Is that—” you squint, shooting off of his shoulder to look him in the eye. “You spend your nights getting in street fights and shootouts and you spend your days reading Crime and Punishment of all things?” You gawk at him, “That explains a lot about your disposition.”

He shrugs with a shake of his head. “It’s a rough world. Can’t afford to be reading about Hogwarts.”

You pause, combing through your next words, “‘Man only likes to count his troubles; he doesn’t calculate his happiness.’”

His eyes crinkle under his mask as he smiles, clearly pleasantly surprised that you know your shit. “Touché.”

You grin back, pleased with yourself.

There’s a brief recession where your smiles both get caught in the flicker between on and off, where your eyes take the opportunity to scan over each other’s faces.

You realize that this may be the first time you’ve seen him properly smile and it’s so magnetizing. So much so that you don’t realize you’re staring at his lips until your eyes snap back up to his and find that his are on yours.

His eyes don’t leave yours as he nudges you a bit with his shoulder. It does just enough to break the trance, giving you the cue to rest your head on him again. This time you allow more of your weight to lean against him and he actually seems relaxed for once.

You glance at the clock on the wall without moving and realize it’s almost four in the morning. “I’m tired, Hood.” you mumble into his shirt.

“You don’t—” he falters for a moment, “You don’t have to call me that.”

You squint at him, “What should I call you then?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “J.”

“J?” you whisper, like it’s a grave secret. You guess it kind of is.

He nods.

“Okay.” Your cheek flattens against his shoulder. “J.”

You nearly think you’re imagining it when you feel him rest his head against yours.

“You don’t know how to protect yourself?”

You roll your eyes at him, “You saw the way I swung at you with the baseball bat, what do you think?”

It’s only just after sunset, you could still see some purple-pink hues in the sky if you looked out the window. He’s started showing up before patrol some nights, saying he felt bad about waking you up at 3 am multiple times a week. So now, he mostly only drops in late if he’s a manageable amount of injured.

You stand in the middle of your living room together, after you’d made a joke about needing him as a bodyguard in Gotham. As it turns out, that was a one way street to him finding out that you’re useless in a fight.

“I was hoping you were having an off night because you just woke up, but now I'm concerned.” He says, grimacing.

You shrug, “I carry pepper spray.”

He grumbles, displeased. “Put your hands up.”

You drop your head to the side and glower at him, “Really?”

He raises his eyebrows at you. Just do it.

Alright, you’ll humor him. You put your fists up and he holds his hands open in front of you in kind. You throw a light punch.

“Come on, put your weight behind it.”

You do, hitting his hand harder. “Hood—”

He tilts his head forward at that, looking at you through his brows.

You inhale impatiently, “J, Why do we have to do this? I don’t have any illusions that I could knock you out and I can’t imagine you do either.”

He shakes his head, “It’s not about knocking someone out, it’s about defending yourself. Gonna be a hell of a lot harder to hurt you if you’re throwing punches. Harder.”

You give a raised hum, “Not if they have a gun…”

“Well, we’ll work on that too.”

You groan, throwing a half-assed hit. “Where’d you learn to fight?” You ask before throwing another.

“Turn your body into it.” He corrects. “My, uh, my dad taught me.”

You hum, hitting him again. “Are you guys close?”

“You’re being nosy again.” He grunts amidst a hit.

“You’re being evasive again.” You shoot back.

He drops his hands, taking your wrists in his, “Here, put your hands in front of your face when you shoot so you can block counters.” He tells you, adjusting your stance accordingly.

You make a face, “I’m confused, am I fighting a mugger or a kickboxer?”

He ignores you, moving his hands around to give you different angles to hit at.

You go at it for a few minutes, taking his critiques with reluctant concedence. “Alright, that’s good.” He says, relaxing his body.

You perk up, “We’re done?”

“No,” he shuts you down before asking earnestly, “Do you trust me?”

Your brain hadn’t even fully processed the question before you nod, mumbling a ‘yes’. He takes a measured step closer to you, watching carefully for your reaction. You almost back up in surprise, angling your head up further to look at him properly. You give no objection, so he continues, “I want you to try to get me on the ground.”

You let out a sound that’s half-laugh, half-scoff. “You’re twice my size.”

He sighs, looking at you somberly. “Sweetheart, odds are you’re not going to be evenly matched against someone that wants to hurt you. You get ‘em on the ground ‘n you have the upper hand or it’ll give you time to get away.”

You throw your hands up at your sides, “I don’t—” You huff, “Fine, okay.” You try to trip him by sliding your leg behind his and kicking, but he blocks you expertly.

You, against better judgment, shove your shoulder into his side, though it does nothing to phase him, let alone knock him down.

“You gotta get more creative than that.” He chastises with a tut.

In response, you take a step back to reassess the situation. You try to maintain a poker face as you strategize in your head. You make a dive for his legs, wrapping your arms around the back of his legs and pulling hard to make him lose balance. You’re sure if he were actually trying for a damn you would immediately be done for afterwards, but it does make him wobble. You then throw all of your weight against him, pushing him backwards and causing him to hit the floor with a thud.

He probably allowed for gravity to come to your aid, but he lands on his back all the same. You land half on him, half on the carpet, your hand resting on his chest. He looks up at you nodding, “Good. That was good, sweetheart.”

You smile, quite proud of yourself, and start to stand up when he hooks his arm around the back of your knee and pulls you to the ground too, switching places with you. You hit the ground gently with a sigh, “Really?”

He has one hand rested next to your head to balance him in his place above you. He smirks down at you and lets a tussle of white hair hang over his forehead. “Can’t be getting cocky, sweetheart.”

You laugh sourly, “Coming from you?”

You quickly push at the bend of his arm and use the distraction to adjust your position to wrap your legs around his center and push your arm against his chest in an attempt to rotate him off of you.

He counters you by pushing your shoulder down, holding you down to the floor. His opposite hand flies to pull your forearm away from his chest, pinning it next to your head, careful to avoid your hair. He moves so quickly that you have half a mind to think he acted on pure instinct. That, and the look on his face when the dust settles says that he hadn’t intended for you to end up in this position.

Your legs are still wrapped around him and you’re too frozen in the moment to make any changes. He’s in no more of a rush to move, large frame towering over you. You feel his touch stutter against your shoulder, his eyes flickering across your face.

You gaze up at him, taking in the soft look in his eyes behind the mask. You think you can see more green than you did before. You unwrap your legs from around his waist and slowly start to sit up. He releases your wrist and eases the pressure on your shoulder. He leans back half as quickly as you move forward, stopping when you’re propped up on your elbows.

Your faces are only a few inches apart and it feels like your only option is to look down at his lips. You have a feeling he’s doing the same to you. The adrenaline of the hassle has long since faded but the rhythm in both of your chests remains quick.

He leans forward so barely, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch. “J…” you say breathily, not sure what implication you’re aiming for.

He stills and this time you’re sure he’s looking at your lips. He blinks a few times like he’s trying to come back to himself and inches his face away from yours slowly.

You let the hold in your breath release, disappointed more than anything. He eases off the floor to a stand and holds his hand out to help you up too. You take it with more of a frown than you’d meant to let out and rise to your feet.

“Let’s, uh…” He looks at the ground before taking a step back and putting his hands up again. “Let’s try some combos.”

You blink up at him for a second before raising your hands too.

Alright, one step at a time.

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hyuny-bunny · 3 days

Note

what are your thoughts on skz with a dumb s/o? like genuinely ditzy and little absentminded and forgetful, but you’re still such a sweetheart. makes them wonder how dumb you’ll go on their cocks.

skz + dumb s/o

MDNI(18+): suggestive, nsfw, corruption kink, dumb kink ?, finger sucking, oral, penetration.

love this ask so much, it's not something i've thought much about before but here you go ! :3

chan: oh he dotes on you sooooo much. in the beginning he thought it was just a cute quirk but as you became more serious he realized... you really are just ditzy. he can't lie that he has to hold back on the days you can't help saying "huh?" or "hmm?" to everything but it sounds so saccharine from you. he loves the duality of it though. he can dote on you with how cute your whims are then flip you into a submissive state. even more so when he decides to pin you down in the backseat of his car putting your pretty mouth to good use. chastising you with "pretty baby so cock dumb hmm? only good for sucking me off huh?" with your response being your typical "hmm?" but your mouth stuffed with cock instead. even with your whimpers to take more of him in your mouth, he's happy to oblige holding your pretty face in his hands to use your mouth.

minho: as 1/3 of paboracha, he's never minded. intially i think he would think consider them as one off moments like asking the same question twice in a 2 second span. he might look at for a solid momemt with those cat blinking stares, processing that you're serious. he finds it cute though!! maybe quietly giggling to himself before kissing you on the forehead in passing. he likes it even more so when you're too cock dumb from him making you ride him while he coos and pets you like he does a cat. after trying to tease him all day with sex and suggestive groping. he only let you ride his thigh before caving into you enough to give you his cock after you begged him so nicely. "jagiya, use your words hm? too dumb to speak now hmm?" he'll say while thrusting up into you pretending he's not paying you any attention

changbin: loves loves loves how ditzy you are. he likes playing into the idea that he's just as much brain as he is brawn to you. especially when you're so absentminded with your surroundings in public. maybe there's someone being creepy towards you in a cafe, he's clocked them in already wrapping a protective arm around. you pick up in his protectiveness and to find your answer is being stared down with daggers by binnie. you're hero, savior! you have to reward him with the best head he'll ever had so you're happily taking him in your mouth once your home. he's got you on his cock taking him all the way down his throat while he coaxes you into fitting it all in your mouth "stupid angel always needs time to come to rescue mmh rewards me so sweetly."

hyunjin: 2/3 of paboracha coming in. he'd never think you were outright dumb, ditzy ? oblivious ? yes. he himself has no room to judge, you'd probably have him questioning himself on multiple occasions. you're probably just a little more oblivious around him, which he doesn't mind one bit. he kinda finds it cute how little though you probably give to so many things. he finds it even cuter when he's able to convince you to wear an outfit he picked out for you, one that of course will give him easy access to tease you in public. it was supposed to be cute picnic in secluded area of the park, until he had you laid out on the blanket taking his cock from behind shoving strawberry in your mouth & sucking fingers to shut you up. "shhh my love, don't want people to find us okay? can't let them see how stupid you were to let me take you like this"

han: going 3 for 3 with paboracha here. another one who dotes on your ditzy nature. i could see him with a s/o that's a little more clumsy. maybe you're always scraping a knee, bumping into sharp corners, burning yourself while cooking/baking, or just straight up walking into glass doors or poles. whatever the case may be he's there holding out his arms to soothe you, giving you kisses all over your face. he finds out how easy it is to convince you to the dumbest things. like convincing you that if you let him go down on you, his headache will go away or you're sore throat from the concert last night will feel sooooo much better if you blow him. that by swallow his cum, it'll feel & tase better then honey. "that's it's, good, suck me dry baby i promise you'll feel better. we might have to try a few loads of cum for it to work, k? just focus on taking it all though." his head thrown back while shoving you further on his cock.

felix: he likes that your so absentminded and ditzy. it make its so easy for him to impress you. especially when he has you sitting like a curious cat on his bed while you watch him build his new PC. your eyes sparking with excitement as he completes each step. or even when you watch him bake his recipes from scratch. doe eyed while you sit perched on the counter making your favorite brownies! he'd take a finger coated in the batter letting you lick off his fingers which only leads to him fucking you on the counter while he makes you choke on his batter covered fingers, "doesn't your orgasm feel so much better when you have something so sweet in your mouth mm? maybe let's watch you suck me off with the batter on my cock since you like my fingers so much?"

seungmin: mean dom seung *sigh*. he loves you to death but god you make it so easy for him to tease you. you're not a quick as he is, whether it's his snarky remarks or quick reactions to things he knows. you try to learn baseball, not actually playing but you know the basic rules. you want to try to at least understand what goes in the game. you're not the best but your attempts don't go unnoticed. even when someone hits a home-run but you're shouting goal so confidently it has him falling to his knees in laughing clutching his stomach because you genuinely meant it. he calls you the nth member of paboracha but in bed you're his dumb cock slut, taking him so good you're babbling nonsense. " what was that slut ? did you say something ? aren't you too dumb for words? " he'd condescendingly say before slamming himself into you once more.

jeongin: bark. sorry i love him so badly. he takes your ditzy nature as naiveness. whether or not that's the case, he'll treat it that way. even when you try to argue over something you know already he'll talk to you so sweetly like he's done such a good job of teaching you. maybe you're trying to learn japanese and his fluency helps you but he'll tsk you if he's in a particular mood. maybe you're out in japan gawking, 'ooh'ing and 'aww'ing at each store and you're curiosity almost gets you dragged in a male host club. so jeongin decides you need a break for a few hours so he checks you into a love hotel (unbeknownst to you) where he'd spend the next 2 hours or so talking down in your ear while he plays with you between your legs. haughtily scolding you for every single thing that's led to this moment, " i thought you knew better ? you have to listen to me jagiya, there's so many people out there that just want to use you hmm. guess i'll just have to show you." all before bending you over and smooshing your face into the pillow to abuse your hole with his cock, crying out for him to let you cum. chastising you until he's felt you learned you lesson.

#skz oneshots #skz smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz hard thoughts #skz x you #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #hyunybunnywrites #hyunjin smut #bang chan smut #changbin smut #lee know smut #jeongin smut #jisung smut #felix smut #seungmin smut

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hearts4chriss · 3 days

Text

𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍.

𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬!𝐁𝐒𝐅! 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐏𝐎𝐂 𝐛𝐬𝐟

prompt by this request: "chris getting jealous bc his bsf seems flirty with matt so he confesses his feelings and it ends with smuttttt”

contains: HELLA SMUTTT, Chris confessing his feelings, mad jealous Chris, dom!chris, suggestive, “flirting” w Matt??, Chris and yours first kiss, choking, spanking, degrading names (slut, whore yktv), MUCH dumification, use of pet names (mama, baby, sweetheart, good girl, pretty girl, sweet girl ), stomach bulge!, flashbacks of Chris fantasizing about you, overstimulation, cream pie, squirting, Chris having a massive cock obviously, missionary, slight m!oral, aftercare as always!! Heavy ( bath tg, praising, concerned!chris reassurance

a/n- this has been sitting in my drafts for a while so here it is

For years, since we were kids. I’ve always had a huge crush on my bestfriend.

I couldn’t get over her no matter how hard I tried and it grew more and more especially since she lives in LA now and we see her almost everyday.

It got worse. So bad. I needed her

I remember seeing her in an orange bikini complimenting her gorgeous features. The way the bottoms hugged her curves making her ass pop out was enough to make me finish in my pants.

She was gorgeous, I wanted to have her badly but it was Nearly impossible fo get her alone.

Especially with Matt around. It pissed me off when I’d see them laughing together or making tiktoks.

That’s my girl

I remember sitting in my room scrolling on instagram when I got the notification she posted on her story

Fuck she looked so good.

the way the grey shorts hugged her ass just how I liked, she looked so gorgeous too.

I, unintentionally started palming myself through my sweats.

I couldn’t help it she had such an affect on me.

I pulled my sweats down revealing my boxers with a wet spot where my tip was.

“Shit”. I groan pulling them down fully as my dick slapped against my stomach begging to be touched, wishing it was her hand and not mine.

I began to stroke myself with shaky hands imagining it was her lips wrapped around me and I throw my head back against the pillows as my mind wandered

She was irresistible, I had to have her.

We always had a flirty thing going on and I didn’t think it would get this far.

Until…

Today was on of those days where I was in the kitchen leaning on the counter drinking a Pepsi pretending to watch TV as I listen to her faint giggles as her and my fucking brother watched TV.

I felt my hand tighten around the can as I saw how close they were, knowing he didn’t like her but I didn’t care. I wanted her all too myself.

I sighed throwing my can out coming up with an idea to figure out a way to get her for me.

Matt and nick going to get food.

“hey Matt, wanna go get some food? Y/n likes this Chinese place it’s about an hour away, nick prob wants to go”. I say smiling with a cocky grin and he rolls his eyes.

“Okay fine I’ll be back in like 4 fucking hours nick let’s go!”. Matt tells and Nick comes downstairs.

“Y/n, you’re so lucky we love you”. Nick says sarcastically and they walk out the house but fuck something about the way Matt looked at her before he left just made me more pissed off.

“Chris?”. I stand up adjusting my shorts as the grey material rolled up my ass and my tank top hugged around my tits the watching Chris’s eyes wander.

“What the fuck are you trying to do to me”. Chris mutters into my ear, his hand wrapping around my neck and my breath hitches.

“W-what are you talking about?”. I shudder as his blue eyes pour into mine with an unhappy expression giving me a pity laugh.

“Flirting with my brother in front of me? Seriously?! Is it not obvious how much I want you?”. Chris confessed his nose touching mine making me gulp, my thighs closing together accidentally.

There was no doubt Chris was attractive but hell if I knew he liked me shit I’d probably let him fuck me or something.

“You? Want me?” I said slightly confused and utterly shocked and he takes a deep breath.

“you have no fucking idea how much I want you, and I have no problem showing him that your my girl”. Chris gave me a sly smile picking me up by my ass carrying me downstairs to his room.

“C-Chris wait-“. I was cut off by him kissing me and I melt into his touch. His hands grip my ass tighter making me gasp, his tongue massaging mine as I moan into the kiss.

“Strip”. He demands standing me up and I tilt my head. And he gives me those eyes and immediately comply beginning to peal of my clothes leaving me in a matching set of orange. Chris’s favourite colour.

“Fuck ma you look so pretty..all for me right?” He asks his hands playing with my bra strap making my panties dampen.

“Yes Chris- all for you”. I match his gaze and he smirked pushing me on the bed as I scooted back leaving him room to climb above me.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to fuck you”. Chris leaves a soft kiss to my cheek practically ripping my panties off me and I squirm.

“Chris! I liked those!”. I whine and he rolls his eyes pulling down his sweatpants and boxers in one movement and his thick, and painfully hard cock springs out hitting his stomach and my heart beat picks up

how the fuck was that supposed to fit inside me?

Chris took in my nervous expression and let out a soft laugh placing his hands on my thighs

“Spread ur legs for me”. He taps my legs and I spread them apart revealing my wet pussy, the arousal glistening on my inner thighs.

he runs a finger along my slit and I jolt slightly at the sudden sensation.

“shit- ur so wet, did i make you like this? Or was it my brother”. Chris asked tilting his head, his jawn clenched ans my breath hitched as he continued moving his finger.

“No answer? Guess I’ll fuck the answer out of you”. Chris pressed my legs against my chest before slamming his cock deep inside me, stretching me out painfully I almost couldn’t take it.

“f-fuck Chris! T-too much!”. I stutter trying to push his hand away but he quickly slaps it away, using my legs as leverage to begin pounding my inside me.

Chris didn’t give me time to adjust to his large size, tears already forming on my eyes from the pleasure.

“shit- your pussy feels so good, better than I’ve imagined”. He let out a deep groan watching how my pussy sucked him in, Chris’s hips driving into mine as I squint my eyes shut.

“Already becoming a mess on my cock? Should’ve kept matt here so he could see how much of slut you are for me”. Chris grips my neck angling his hips to thrust deeper and I squeal, my eyes meeting with his blues, an electric feeling shooting through me.

He wouldn’t let up his pace, his cock plunging into my tight hole as the pain turned to pleasure thankfully as my cunt morphed to fit his dick.

And Chris was fucking right, I was a slut for him and I has tried to hide it this whole time by being innocent and flirtatious with his brother but the second I was underneath him, I was begging for him to touch me

“Oh shitt- d-don’t stop- fuck”. I throw my head back on the soft pillows, moaning curses breathlessly, my tits bouncing with his quick and hard movements, bound to leave bruises between my thighs burning with sensation.

“mmph fuck- wasn’t planning on it pretty girl”. He moaned, completely infatuated with how I wrapped around him perfectly, like I was made for him. And shit- was he made for me.

She felt so good, almost as if her pussy and every thing about her was made for me.

I couldn’t get enough of her, the Moans and squeaks of my name leaving her swollen lips could’ve made me cum on the spot.

the way she could barley form a sentence as I fucked her, and I wasn’t even close to being done with her yet.

I was going to make sure she knew that she was mine, my fucking girl.

“Chris-you feel so good”. She moaned my name again, turning me on much more than it should’ve, the way her eyes barely opened, and how she’d bite her and stare at me grasping her breasts.

“yeah? you like when I fuck you dumb like this? Can’t even get a word out?”. I taunt, I gripped her neck tighter, her legs finding their way up on my shoulders crying out my name like it’s the only one she knew.

I couldn’t even answer, the things he were asking me required my full attention and shit- I was so far gone.

“I suggest you answer me ma because your about to to cum”. Chris presses his chest on mine, our noses touching as he breathed heavily into my mouth while I reciprocated the same action.

“mm-m I-fuck I-i love it”. I shudder on each word, praying he heard me because I really could not talk right now. I squeezed my eyes shut and he chuckled seeing how speechless he fucked.

“God I could listen to you like this all day”. Chris grunted into my ear as I felt the stomach coil I had began to burst unexpectedly from the overwhelming pleasure.

Chris made me squirt

“S-shit! I’m sorry I-“. I shook as the fluids made a mess over his lower stomach but gasping as he didn’t slow down.

“Never apologize that was hot as fuck- got one more in you?”. He pants resting his head on my shoulder quickening his pace and I whimper gripping his back.

“Oh god Chris- I-I can’t”. My nails run down his back making marks and he bites his bottom lip as I pulled him closer.

His hips pushing into mine, as my juices had coated his cock, leaking out of me creating a wet sensation of our sex.

“You can take it baby, being such a good girl, fuck just one more”. He let out a shaky moan throwing a my leg around his waist and I let out a loud moan at the angle Chris’s cock hit, brushing my g-spot.

“C-Chris ur so deep-“. I let out pornographic sounds and he gave me a deep kiss before pressing his hand where his dick was poking through.

his hand pressed down on the bulge in my stomach and I felt the tears run down my face from the overwhelming pleasure.

“that’s all me baby- fuck I love ur pussy so much-“. He stutters throwing his head as hair sticks to his forehead, the sight was more than appealing.

His slightly parted lips producing whimpers, curses and moans of my name. The way he squeezed my hips making sure I could feel every thick inch of him and the sweat coating over his body.

Her lips parted releasing pants and moans of my name and the occasional “fuck”, her hair now sweated out with hickeys along her neck and tits reminding her that she was mine now. The way her nails would grip my back drawing marks that showed how much she enjoyed it.

“Oh shit- ma- can I cum inside you? M’need you so bad-“. He moans into my neck and I shiver and chant yes’s.

Chris released his seed inside me triggering a second hard orgasm for me, creaming his dick as my body shook.

I turned my head to lay on the pillow before he could catch a glimpse of me, slowly sliding his cock out of me.

He took one look at me and his eyes immediately shifted to one of concern

“wait wait shit- did I hurt you?”. Chris started, seeing how my legs shook from the orgasm I just had.

“please talk to me”. He cupped my cheeks and I gave him a soft smile.

“I’m fine Chris that was- shit- the best sex I’ve ever had”. I let out a quiet sigh and a smirk tugged at his lips as he pulled me into a bridal style hold.

“Well come on let’s get you cleaned up, I wanna spend time with my girl”. He giggled like a child and I rolled my eyes as he carried me into the bathroom running a warm bath for both of us

“No seriously tho your okay?”. He said softly rubbing my shoulders as we soaked in the warm tub.

“Chris the way you put that dick on me I’m more than ok”. I kissed his cheek and his cheeks flushed a bit as he leaned back against the tub whilst I’m in his arms.

She’s really my girl.

@sturniolopowers @gdsvhtwa @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @worldlxvlys @chrisslut25 @princessbetsy123-blog @mattslolita @guccifrog @blahbel668 @mattsneezing @trickywritters @hearts4chriss @nonamegirlxsturniolo @luvmxtt @theyluv-meee @hoesformatt @luv4kozume-deactivated20240512 @kikisturnioloo @itzdarling @pepsiimaxx @babyddolly @iiheartstef @junnniiieee07 @vanteguccir @ast3ro1dzz @sturniolowhore @st7rnioioss @emma4eva @braindead4l @ihearttsyouu @kqyslyho3 @imaslut4kehlani @sturnsfav @sunsetsturniolos @sturniololoverr @gamermattsgf @lilyloveschris @dlyansworld @chrisloyalgf @soimightlikeoldmen69 @abbie13sworld @ineedchriscock @sturniol0s @chrissgirlsstuff @luhsexcbihh @nickgetsmewetter @rubyjaneaxx @love4chris

#chris sturniolo #hearts4chriss #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo

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sweetimpurity · 2 days

Text

numb ----- 18+

Your boyfriend Miguel getting a little too worked up and biting you while he’s deep inside. “Right there baby?” He pants, looking down at you, angling his hips in a way that makes you scrape your fingers down his back and he watches your body’s reactions. “Mmm yes yes!...” You breathe out, buzzing with pleasure. And he becomes twice as determined to make you cum and to cum with you. His face in your neck, fingers grasping into your hair, his broad back flexing with every push of his hips nestled between your thighs, your voice getting hoarse from each moan he pulls from your throat, his fangs piercing into your soft warm neck as he thrusts into you. He only realizes when he hears you gasp in pain and your fingers dig into his triceps. But it’s too late and his venom is coursing through your bloodstream like hot lava.

“Oh no baby I… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-” He coos, realizing what he’s done, halting his hips and looking down at you, the face you’re making as you wince. His worried eyes scanning over every part of you. “i-it’s okay…” You sigh painfully. Your toes start tingling and your arms feel like pure jelly. Losing your grip on his arms and your hands fall to the bed. “Woah feels weird…” You say, looking up at him, feeling like you’re melting into the mattress, the venom paralyzing you temporarily. The ache of your impending orgasm fading away as all feeling is numbed. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to hurt you baby, you just feel so good…” He whispers, feeling so guilty and so bad for hurting you. “I got too excited…” He sighs, you see his cheeks flush slightly with embarrassment. “You don’t have to stop babe…” You say, looking in his eyes. Your body feels like melted butter but you still want him to feel good and he was about to finish. “No… no way… “ He hums, rubbing his hands over your thighs lovingly, apologetically, even though you can’t even feel it. He gets off of you, being careful not to hurt you again, wrapping his arms around you and tucking you into his warm chest. “I’m not doing anything unless you can feel it too…”

#miguel ohara #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #artists on tumblr #miguel fanart #miguel spiderverse #smut #artists on tiktok #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara smut #miguelohara #miguelito #miguel atsv #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #astv miguel #atsv miguel #miguel fanfic

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stuniolo-simp4life · 3 days

Text

Teddy Bear- Matt Sturniolo

warnings- angst, smut, fingering, oral (fem)

summary- after ignoring you all day, Matt lets something slip from his mouth, upsetting you.

You took Matt to the mall today, just wanting to spend a day with him.

of course, you could never just do that. Fans would always come up to him and ask for his picture, making you take all of the pictures.

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you didn’t like when other girls put their hands on him.

You and Matt had come out to their fans about dating a month ago. Most people were supportive.

Even though the girls knew, they put their hands around his waist and neck and it just pissed you off.

so whenever someone wasn’t taking his picture, your hand would be linked with his to let people get the memo: he’s taken.

unfortunately for Matt, he didn’t seem to be enjoying himself.

He would just scroll on his phone while walking and whenever you wanted his option on a piece of clothing, he would just mumble, “looks good,” or something.

It did make you a little upset but you decided not to push it.

like right now, you were in H&M.

“Matt, what do you think of this dress?” He didn’t even look up from his phone. “It looks fine baby,” he said.

you frowned. “Matt, I don’t think you can see the dress from your phone.”

He groaned as he looked up at you. He had a look of annoyance in his face. “It looks fine.” You frowned again as you mumbled an okay, and payed for it.

You wrapped your hand around his waist as you walked out of the store. But when you walked out, he yanked your hand off his waist.

You looked at him shocked. He didn’t even look up at you. Why did it hurt so bad?

you stayed silent for a bit. While you were walking, you saw a pretzel shop, immediately lightening your mood.

“Wanna get a pretzel?” You asked, excitement in your eyes.

He sighed and mumbled a sure, finally looking up from his phone.

you grabbed his hand, but you felt him slightly jerk. It made your heart pang, but you ignored it. At least you tried.

After you got your food, you sat down with him, try to make conversation.

“So baby, are you exited for tour? It’s coming up soon.” He didn’t even look up, again, when he answered.

“yeah.” He muttered. You just gave up at this point. You ate your pretzel in silence.

“are you ready to go?” He nodded and you walked to the car.

the only think you ended buying was that dress and a teddy bear.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

when you got home, nothing really changed. You set the teddy bear on the kitchen counter, and Matt sat at the island table.

“baby do you want to eat anything?” He shook his head no, and continued to scroll on his phone.

you sighed and walked over to him, placing your hand on his back and rubbing him softly.

“Can you fucking stop?” He snapped. Your eyes widened as you jerked your hand away. “What?”

“your so fucking annoying y/n. All day you’ve been clinging on to me, like fucking glue. It’s fucking annoying,” he spat.

You felt tears burn into the brim of your eyes, but you still felt anger. “What the fuck do you mean Matt? You’ve been ignoring me all day. You’ve barely even talked to me at all.”

You felt your voice break. “All you’ve been doing in scrolling on your fucking phone.” Matt scoffed and rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“Oh give me a fucking break. I’ve been working my ass of to get things for the tour ready. And next thing you know, I have you dragging my ass to the mall.”

he shook his head. “You think I wanted to hear to fucking talk all day? Give me a fucking break. You don’t even do anything. All you do is sit your ass home all fucking day.”

“so what if I don’t wan’t to fucking talk to you? Not everything is about you y/n.”

You didn’t even realize you were holding your breath until a shaky sob left your mouth. You couldn’t even control your tears. They were just falling.

Matt scoffed. “If you’re gonna be such a cry baby, at least go cry somewhere else.” His eyes looked cold.

All you did was sob louder. You wiped your tears, but there was no point, because they just kept spilling.

As you walked up the stairs, you could hear Matt mumbling something about how sensitive you were.

when you got to your shared bedroom, you stripped out of your clothing and changed into Matt’s fresh love hoodie and a pair of shorts.

Thankfully, you grabbed the teddy bear you bought. You snuggled it up to you as stray tears left your eyes.

a soft knock was heard at the door. “Who is it,” you mumbled, your voice thick and scratchy from crying.

Nick and Chris walked into the room.

“hey y/n/n,” Chris whispered as he sat down on the bed. Nick sat beside you and rubbed your back softly.

"Hi," you mumbled.

“are you alright?” nick asked. “we heard the fight.” you frowned at the thought, more tears threatening to fall.

“Yeah,” you said with a voice crack. Chris frowned. “You wanna tell us what happened?” You sighed as you explained to them what happened at the mall, from him ignoring you and the fight when you got back.

Nick sighed and shook his head, and Chris frowned. “How about this. Nick will get a bath ready for you and I’ll go talk to Matt. How does that sound?”

You smiled slightly and nodded your head. Chris rubbed you back and got up, and you followed Nick into the bathroom.

“I’ll set some fresh clothes on the counter for when you're done. Feel better soon.” Nick gave you a half smile and walked out of the room.

You let out a sigh of relief as you stepped into the hot shower. You almost wished you could just melt and go down the drain with the rest of the water.

What if Matt was right? Were you as clingy as he said you were?

When you stepped out the bathroom, you were in a fresh oversized tee and pj pants. The first thing you could hear was Chris’s voice coming from downstairs.

“Matt, I get that your stressed but taking it out on y/n? What’s wrong with you?”

You could practically hear Matt rolling his eyes. “It’s not my fault she’s so fucking clingy. She should learn how to keep her hands to herself.” You could feel your heart crack at those words.

“Do you hear yourself Matt? She’s your girlfriend. What has she ever done to you? She’s the one who offered to take your sorry ass to the mall to get your mind off things, but here you are, accusing her.”

There was silence for a while. “What have I done,” you heard Matt mummer.

“If you don’t get your ass upstairs and fix things with her now, me and you are going to have a problem.”

Moments later, you could hear footsteps coming up the stairs, and then a soft knock at the door. “Y/n? Baby?”

The door softly opened, and you were met with Matt’s face. “Hey, can we... talk?” You nodded your head and motioned for him to sit down.

“I’d really like to apologize for earlier today. All the things for the tour had been stressing me out, especially because it was mostly me organizing and planning everything. It was wrong of me to take it out on you. I love you y/n so much. I promise that won’t ever happen again. M’ so sorry. Don’t cry.”

You didn’t even realize you were crying. He pulled you into his arms and kissed your hair, stroking it softly.

“Do you really think I’m clingy Matt?” you asked. “If you do think i am, I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

He looked at you, so broken. “Of course not baby. I love it when you hold my hand and touch me.” He kissed you softly. “Let me show you how sorry I am.”

He kissed you again, although it wasn’t soft, like before. It was passionate and hungry. He laid you back on the bed, trying not to rush you.

Your shirt was quickly discarded, and you weren’t wearing a bra. Matt placed soft kisses all over your chest, making sure to kiss and suck your sensitive nipples.

A soft whimper left your mouth. He continued to suck your buds, making a string of whimpers exit your mouth. He smirked in satisfaction and continued to trail kisses down your naked torso until he reached your shorts.

“May I?” he asked. You desperately nodded your head. He shimmied your pants and panties down in one motion.

“You look so pretty like this,” he said softly, planting kisses on the inside of your thighs. He trailed down slowly, getting closer to your core with each kiss.

“Matt please-” you whimpered impatiently. He chuckled. “Patience my love.” he continued kissing the insides of your thighs, until finally, he reached your core.

He licked up a strip from your hole to your clit, making you gasp out a moan. “You taste so good ma.” He flicked his tongue on your sensitive bud, then fully attached his lips to your clit.

You moaned and squeezed your thighs around his head, subconsciously rocking your hips against his mouth. You grabbed his hair, moaning out his name.

“Oh my god- Matt-” you moaned. He suddenly added and finger into your hole, then two. Your hips jerked slightly when he started to pump them in and out of you.

“You like my fingers, yeah?” You moaned in response.

“I wanted to hear your pretty voice baby.”

“Matt, i-it feels so good. Mm- right there.” you could feel your legs shake. Matt curled his fingers, hitting a spot that made things feel unreal. You out a loud moan, jerking your hips.

“There it is,” Matt smirked. He continued hitting the spot, making stars burst into your visions. You couldn’t even control what came out of your mouth. Your moans and whimpers were pouring out like water.

You could feel your orgasm coming close. “Matt, I need to cum,” You moaned out. He smirked and re-attached his mouth to your clit, his fingers still working inside you.

All this did was make you moan louder. “Matt I’m cumming-” you were cut off by your orgasm. Matt slowly pumped his fingers; help you ride it out.

You could feel your juices all over your thighs, and as he sat up, he was licking it off his fingers. “You taste good baby.” He leaned down to kiss you, making you taste yourself.

Soon after, he got up to go to the bathroom. When he came back, he was in his pjs, and he had a wet rag. He opened your legs and started cleaning you up.

When he was done, he helped you put your t-shirt and panties back on, and he wrapped the two of you in the blanket, hugging his hands on your waist.

“That’s a cute bear,” He murmured into your neck. You smiled. “I got it at the mall.” he sighed. “Sorry for ruining your time at the mall. I loved going with you.”

You smiled softly. “It’s okay. We can always go some other time.” He mumbled an okay and an ‘i love you,’ and fell asleep.

This is lowkey my favorite thing ive writen.

tags- l34n theyluvme-2315 tillies33ssss maya555sblog alorsxsturn blahbel668 @nyktoxs-lover strnilolo hearteyesformatt 19rose19

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rafecameroninterlude · 2 days

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I just saw that ur asks were emptied, idk if u remember but I had requested like innocent Bambi reader with Pervy step bro rafe, getting caught or something like this haha, I don’t remember everything but I think this was it

pairing: pervy!stepbro!rafe x bambi!reader

warnings: stepcest, sneaking around, heavy petting, unprotected sex, wheezie being a detective

a/n: yes, i remember anon!! i hope you like how this came out <3 you could find bambi!reader introduction here

“wait, wait, everyone is still awake!” you whispered, giggling softly as rafe closed your bedroom door. “please, i can’t wait any longer, i’ll go crazy if i have to use your panties to fuck my hand again.” he grabbed your ass, harshly gripping the flesh before littering your neck with kisses. “what are you talking about?” you sighed, eyes fluttering shut. “it’s nothing, baby, forget that i mentioned it.” rafe backed you up until the back of your knees met the edge of your bed. “you want to help me out with something?” he looked down at you, stroking your bottom lip with his thumb.

you nodded, allowing him to place your hand over the tent in his jeans. “you feel this? it hurts so bad, i need you to make me feel better. can you do that?” you peered up at him through your eyelashes, taking his digit into your mouth. “yes..”. within the next five minutes, rafe had your thighs pinned on either side of your head as he pounded into you at an unforgiving speed. “shhh, please stay quiet baby.” he threaded his fingers with yours, admiring the way your tits bounced with each one of his thrusts. “m’trying!” you cried softly, struggling not to let out an occasional whimper.

rafe kissed you in hopes to muffle the pretty sounds falling from your lips. “you can be as loud as you want when it’s just us two, okay?” you nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck as he rested his forehead on your shoulder. “you have no idea how bad i’ve wanted to have you under me like this. i’ve woken up hard as fuck all because i dreamt of you taking my cock the night before.” you moaned at his revelation, his hand coming up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “rub your clit for me.” you did as he said, the added stimulation making you clench around his length.

just as you were about to tell him you were close, a knock sounded from the other side of the door. both of you froze, eyes wide as wheezie’s voice cut through the air. “y/n? are you okay in there?” she asked, the door knob rattling as you and rafe scrambled to get your clothes back on. “look, tomorrow everyone is gonna be out for dinner, make something up and say that you’re sick so you don’t have to go.” rafe kissed you, cursing under his breath. “hello?! y/n open the door!” you mumbled a quick ‘okay!’ before ushering rafe out. “chill out, wheez.” wheezie looked up at rafe confusingly.

“what is he doing in here? and why was the door locked?” she looked at you suspiciously, making your heart beat wildly in your chest. “oh! i had just borrowed his laptop for something. i must’ve locked the door on accident.” you smiled nervously, feeling small under her gaze. “anyways! i was just gonna see if you wanted to help me bake some cookies for my school thing on friday?” desperate to change the subject, you nodded frantically, hoping she wouldn’t ask anymore questions. “yes, that sounds fun! what kind of cookies did you have in mind?” you leaned against the doorframe.

she glanced past you, her eyes narrowing. “umm.. why is your bed like that?”

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starkeyisthelastname · 2 days

Note

the funniest thing would be mean!rafe trying to comfort crybaby!reader like he wouldn’t know what to do 🤣

at the beginning of the relationship he definitely didn't know what to do 😂

He had been downstairs waiting for you to finish getting ready so that the two of you could go to dinner. He leaned against the kitchen island, scrolling through his phone boredly as he hoped you would be prancing down soon.

That was until he heard a frustrated yell, some things crashing, and a cry after. He quickly ran up the stairs and towards the bedroom, where he saw the closet door open. He walked over, eyebrow twitching upwards as he saw you on the floor, expensive purses now surrounding you and shelf fallen.

“What the hell happened?” He asked, watching as your lower lip continued to wobble. He wasn’t sure how to deal with this, never having seen you throw a fit like this. His first instinct was to wrap his hand around your throat to get you to shut the fuck up.

You looked at your fresh sparkly baby pink nail that was now broken, ruining all your plans for the rest of the evening. You couldn't go out to dinner with a broken nail, especially not since your set was freshly done. All because you wanted that stupid bag you couldn't reach because you were too short.

“I.. I was trying to reach my Louis bag you just got me because matched my outfit.. a-and.” You cried out, words jumbled together as if you had forgotten how to speak.

Rafe’s jaw tensed as he heard you ramble on, his patience already running thin. He put his hand out to stop you, quickly hearing your words turn into small hiccups. “Get to the fucking point.” He said.

You sniffed, holding up your broken nail for him to see. “The shelf fell on the edge of my nail and it broke. I can't go to dinner now because my nails look ugly now.” You cried again, tears staining your foundation covered cheeks.

Rafe had never been in a relationship where he actually took it seriously and if any girl had ever acted this way before in front of him over a broken fuckin nail, he would have told them to get the fuck out. You his were girl though and he had barely admitted to himself out loud that he had fallen for you hard. He was becoming the man his father had always wanted him to be and he needed to learn to deal with you the right way.

“Hey, enough. Alright?” He said, kneeling down to look at you. He wasn’t sure what to do next, but you made that easy for him as you wiped your face into his chest. “Okay, come on. Don’t do that shit.” He said with a sigh as the expensive dress shirt he was wearing was now covered in your makeup.

You just sniffled, not saying anything as you held onto him in hopes he’d make it better. Rafe just looked at you, shaking his head as he was assumed how this was all over a nail. He couldn’t help but wrap his arms around you though, something in him telling him he had to fix it.

“Fuckin brat.” He mumbled.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron blurb #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #obx

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k0juki · 1 day

Note

pls some joost fluff (cuddling n maybe some making out??) headcanons bitte bitte🙏

🥴 danke danke for request!

Cuddles

Joost Klein x fem!reader

English is not my first language so feel free to point out any mistakes or errors! More posts here.

A/n: I wrote it a bit different, hope you won't mind much!🙏

Warnings: bit suggestive and making out, so be aware!

Wc: 736

---

Okay, so Lazy Mornings would probably look like this.

Joost loves to sleep in on any day, but what he loves more is when he wakes up to find you still cuddled up beside him, he wouldn't have it any other way.

He'd pull you even closer, wrapping his arms around you protectively, and nuzzle his face into your hair, content to stay tangled up in bed with you for as long as possible.

"Good morning to you too, Joost." You said with a small smile and felt him tighten his hold on you from behind.

"Morning." He whispered and kissed your neck. "I didn't want to wake you up."

"It's alright. I have to get up anyway." You answered and turned in his hold.

"Not possible, you're staying here, with me." He spoke and as he was about to kiss you, you turned your head to the side and said. "No, no, no, I will give you a kiss after we brush teeth."

---

Post-Eurovision Comfort would be absolutely necessary and nobody can tell me otherwise.

After a particularly tough last few days at Eurovision, Joost would come home exhausted.

You'd meet him at the door with a warm hug, leading him to the couch where you'd lay his head in your lap and gently massage his shoulders and back.

"It's gonna be alright Joost, it will be alright." You would softly whisper to him.

He'd close his eyes, letting out a contented sigh as he relaxes into your touch, grateful for your soothing presence.

"Thank you love."

---

Movie Nights are a must.

You and Joost have a tradition of having cozy movie nights at home. He'd make a big bowl of popcorn, and you'd snuggle up together under a blanket on the couch.

As the movie plays, Joost would absentmindedly run his fingers through your hair, occasionally pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"I know what you're trying to do Joost. It won't work." You warned him, clearly knowing what he was up to.

"I'm not doing anything love, you're just paranoid." He chuckled and threw himself at you, pinning you down on the couch.

He started kissing you as you put your hands on his shoulders and then to his hair, lightly tugging on it. Joost moaned to your mouth.

He suddenly pulled away and said. "If you're going to tease me like this, then it's not my fault. It's yours."

"No, it was you who started kissing me. It's your fault." You moaned, feeling him kiss your jaw and then neck.

"That sounds fair."

---

Unexpected Cuddles are like:

Whether you're cooking dinner together or just lounging around the house, Joost loves to surprise you with sudden cuddle attacks.

He'd sneak up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, pressing his chest against your back as he peppers your neck with gentle kisses, making you giggle and squirm.

"It tickles!" You gasped and then you started to laugh, trying to pull away, but he didn't budge.

Now, that he was fully pressed against your back, he turned you around, so you were face to face. He bent down and took your thighs and pulled you up at the counter as you wrapped your arms around his neck for support.

"You realize I'm cooking, right?" You asked him, feeling all hot from sudden friction. Looking into his eyes, you see the hunger behind them.

You bit your lips and pulled him closer to yours lips kissing him with passion, but still soft enough.

"Who's the clingy one now." He laughed against your lips, kissing them again.

"Shut up."

"Make me."

---

Rainy Day Cuddles:

When it's pouring rain outside, Joost would suggest building a blanket fort in the living room.

And guess what? You agreed, because it is fucking good idea.

You'd gather up all the blankets and pillows you could find, creating a cozy nest for the two of you to hide away from the storm.

"It's cozy here." You whispered to him as you laid on his chest. He had his arm around you and his other was in your hair, gently playing with it.

"Yeah, it is." He quietly said and kissed the top of your head.

Inside the fort, you'd cuddle up together, listening to the sound of the rain on the roof and he was sharing stories with you until you both fell asleep in each other's arms.

---

Don't copy or translate my work! Also the picture is not mine! Credit goes to owner!

#joost klein x fem!reader #joost klein x you #justice for joost #joostice #joost klein x reader #joost klein #x reader #k0juki's stuff 🩷#x female!reader #europa #europe #eurovision #imagines #fanfic #blurb

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spencerscoven · 1 day

Text

the alternate … art donaldson

Art has a proclivity for giving attention to his enemy. He hates her— but particularly hates how she has Patrick wrapped around her finger even more.

warnings ; smut .. slutty drunk freshman art x Patrick's gf, infidelity .. unedited for now! oops!

It didn’t take much time for Art to settle into Cornell— it wasn’t just the tennis or the girls, of which he quickly learned were rather women, or even the academics. His hesitation on his attendance was especially foolish, especially in moments like these as he rolled over, crushing the red solo up beneath him. The buzzing in his jean pocket persisted, just like it had for the last five minutes before, causing him to utter another affirmation to ignore it into her mouth.

Maybe the women had one or two things to do with it.

"Maybe just get it?"

"Why?"

"So you... can tell them you're busy."

He hummed into her mouth as the girl above him detached herself, moving to grab the stitch of her top to remove it as he tilted his hips to reach for his phone.

Patrick.

His calloused hands came up to push her thighs over his hips, sitting up to read the rapid series of text Patrick had sent. And Art soon saw— was still sending. All of them ranged from different ways of him asking Art to check up on you, letting your attendance be known. Patrick's texts detailed the simple request of him checking to see if you were taking your alcohol well. Another saying he hoped you wouldn't get roofed. And one that blatantly asked that he didn't let any of "those Ivy League assholes" fuck his girlfriend.

Art rolled his eyes, resentment laced in his actions as he muttered condolences and pledged to "be right back", his large hands taking the knob of the door and peering out into the dark hallway to find you. When a look wasn't enough, he left the room door slightly ajar, stepping completely into the hallway filled with red cups, colored lights, almost sidetracked by his team that pulled him by the neck and fought to put a drink in his hand. With a light smile still gracing his face and beer in a can, his eyes wondered up to your face, watching as your lips wrapped around a bottle of Corona, some leaking out the side of which you swiped away with the back of your hand. He felt the same kind of resentment he usually felt when he saw you when Patrick visited fill him from his chest out. He watched as you leaned against the wall talking to someone. He took in your skimpy skirt and top with less resentment, though.

He especially didn't like it when the next time he looked for your face, you were staring at him, eyes hooded and smile nasty and condescending.

"He told me to look for you."

"I know." You raised your eyebrow dismissively, almost wanting to laugh at Patrick's good intentions. He knew what you'd say about Art. Just like you assumed what Art said about you, yet he asked him anyway.

"And by that, he means look after you." Art leans in, lips close to your ear as the music sounded. You roll your eyes as he lingers there a moment too long and you expect him to say something more, but he never does.

"We both know I look fine."

It takes a beat before he responds. "We both do."

"And we both know you don't want to babysit."

"But I'm a good friend."

"I've known corrupt politicians that are better friends than you, Art."

He sways away from you, facing the rest of the party as he rolls his eyes with the kind of insularity he only reserved for you, tipping his head back to finish the rest of his beer and tossing it towards the trashcan, only to miss.

He turns to you, irritation flaring as he stabilizes himself on the sticky wall behind him by holding your hips. It's something you're willing to let go of, your breath clicking as he whispers: "You smell like pot."

"It's a free country."

"Okay," he challenges, pursing his lips as he leans closer. "What's in your cup?"

"What? Yours and Chelsea's not good enough for you?"

His upper lip raises, in a look of both disgust and toleration as he grasps your wrist, forcing you to bring your own bottle to his mouth. The contents of it are mostly able to be swallowed but the rest flow from the corners of his lips, down his chin, to his throat where his Adams apple bobs as he swallows. You wipe it instinctively, causing you to both freeze for only a moment. He shutters before he opens his mouth again to slur,

"Chelsea?"

You look at him quizzically, your mouth opening once, twice, three times, only to say nothing but erupt in laughter that rocks your head backwards and your body closer to his. Art looks around frantically, his mouth tilting downwards as he looks around, grasping your hips forward and gritting his teeth as he repeats himself.

"Chelsea? What's the fucking joke I'm not getting?"

"The girl that you just— my fucking god, Art. I know you look the way you do, but you couldn't even remember her name?" You tilt your head towards the doorway, insinuating the room you're sure his cologne still lingered in. He groans, his head falling forward in a laugh as his right hand on your hip runs up the side of your torso, his head spinning.

"I'm not a very good date, am I?" You can nearly taste the alcohol on his tongue and you're out of laughs, humor gone as a consequence of being so close to him. And maybe he's too drunk to realize it's happening, but you're too cross to care when his thumbs rub circles on your hipbone, of which he had to invade underneath your waistband to do.

"I almost finished my night like this." It's so quiet that you're unsure if it was for you to hear. But it doesn't matter, as your hand runs up his arm and shoulders, eyes following over the ripples.

"This is not the same."

Your other hand trickles down to his waistband, guiltily skating over his bulge as you feel his pocket for his phone.

"Arthur, Patrick told you to check on me. So, tell him I'm okay."

"I told him that I'd check on you. I also told him you were a bad idea, like I always do," He saws it lowly, as if it's not supposed to slip out and has only found it's way because of his level of intoxication. You scoff, pushing him backwards as you're suddenly slightly more sober. You rock back and forth, eyes rolling back, but the distance is not created before you can hear him finish: "but I never said he didn't have good taste."

You don't like that it's still said in the way only drunk and resentful Art could deliver it. "You're not a very good fucking friend."

"To who, you?" He makes it his personal duty to invade your space, his face in somewhat of a snarl. You know that some would see this as uncharacterized for Art, but it's most familiar to you. It feels somewhat like home. Albeit, a house fire, but home.

Your first encounter with him was glancing behind yourself at move in, and seeing his blonde locks brushed back by calloused hands as he looked at you, then to your racket.

Your second encounter was only minutes later, when he stood next to his raven haired friend who asked for your number as he rolled his eyes with a knot in his jaw, as if he didn't find you worthy. He tugged on the shirt of his friend, telling him there were better things to do. Better, he had said.

And that never made much sense to you. Because in your relationship with Patrick, there had always been the inconsequential three.

"You're not my friend," You begin, mind calculating how many rooms through doors of Cornell's largest finals club you'd have to go before finding somewhere, anywhere, that would fit just you. "Never was."

Art's only silent for a moment, nose flaring and eyes squinting. his shoulders are tense, and if you were to look down you'd see his hand balled in a fist.

"What? What now, Art?"

"You never gave me your number."

He watches as your eyes furrow in confusion, the heat in your eyes rising rather than deflating. Without your bottle, your hands search for something to do. They resort to touching yourself in the same places he just had, your fingers running down your torso quickly, your hip bone. When you touch your shoulder is when the two of your gazes meet once again. Art watches through blue as you nod your head slowly in both horror and understanding.

You're quick on your feet. He's watched countless of your matches, even when he had no business doing so. But he is too. So when a short string of curses land out of your mouth and you march down the hallway, he's on your heels.

And all you can think is that you know his gaze better than any other. It wasn't something you intended but through these sporadic games, your body and soul had bargained to be familiar with Art more than any other. If he leaned against the net or lunch table, it became the kind of resourcefulness of movement that was so particularly him. It was rare you called on him, yet necessary when it was a matter of Patrick. He was always there, steadfast and urgent. It'd be days before you learned of the lecture he missed because of it. And while your boyfriend was off being a pro, he never was slow to tell you how good his female counterparts around him were, while you were "only barely whopping college ass".

But somehow he was always there. You found his gels and handle tape in your tennis bag. You had more than half your dining points still because you were just "a casualty of being present when he was buying his own lunch". And it all made you feel as if he was just very...

"You're a fucking con artist," You shoved him against the door of which he only narrowly made it "A fucking wolf in sheep's clothing."

It made you even angrier that he was stronger than you but willing to let his body fall back, lips pierced in a thin obedient line as his back hit the door repeatedly under your assault until he grasped both your forearms, holding them closely together. A wince escaped your mouth, his strength relenting and becoming lighter but still he held you. He leaned down, attempting to meet your face that now focused on the hardwood.

"I know I'm the bad guy. Still, what's it gonna be?"

You didn't look up at that. But you did at the vibration that sounded in his pocket just seconds later. There were always three.

Art doesn't waste a moment to release your arms, wrapping his own in an enclosure around your head to reach your lips, tugging you impossibly close to him. You can't help but not move-- letting him twist your head and invade your lips. It's only until you release a small moan you latch back.

After Art's kiss, your night was haunted, distorted beyond your eyes' power of correction. So when a pair of lips landed on yours again, you came back home. You gave in.

His hands ran down your body, invading each and every corner of you. Your hips, your waist, the small of your back, the back of your thighs which he used to hoist your body upwards and against the doorframe, caging you. As the wet kisses sound on your neck, you look past his head to the room you two now occupied, no bed. Just various pieces of miscellaneous covered in cream sheets. When you look towards the window, releasing another whimper as you feel his middle and index finger prod at your cotton panties, you can see dust aligning with the moonlight.

Like everything else he does, he's good at the way he touches you. No, instinctual. The very thing that sometimes is missing from his tennis. Art's fingers curve and level themselves out inside of you, yet he leaves his palms frigid, rubbing your clit back and forth with the surface of it. It makes you all so weak, Art murmuring your name as the two of you lower to the floor, you're suddenly reminded of the urgency of the matter.

"Art, I need--"

"I know,"

I know,

I know.

He repeats the sentiment into your skin and it almost makes your eyes brim with tears as you feel his bulge covered by denim slot against your soaked underwear. The feeling is delicious, so you excuse your decorum when you buck your hips against his. You watch as he detaches himself from you, the depth of his blonde hair twinkling in the moonlight. His lips and chin are swollen and wet from your messy kisses that appeared to be more tongue than anything. He lifts your hips to remove your skirt on his own once he catches the way your eyes watch him, still. He looks at you, sick with the same fever, but now you're not quite sure what this illness even is.

His hands move to tug your shirt up, yet you push his hands away, making them double up on his belt as both of you scramble to slide his jeans below his ass. You also help him when he leans to grab your right leg, sliding it up and against his hip as he sways above you. You watch as he thinks, only for a moment, places a feather right kiss on your knee, whispers something you can't hear, and promptly shoves his dick inside of you.

The force of it slams your head against the door, the hinges rattling but the surprise of his size makes it so you hardly notice. You close your eyes immediately until you're struck with the realization that you hope this never happens again. You hope you're never drunk enough, or lucky enough to have your boyfriend's best friend's dick rocking you back and forth ever again. You near your eyes open, willing to at least let yourself savor what little you have now, gazing in the middle of you two where you can see him disappear inside of you repeatedly.

Art huffs above you as your name escape his lips repeatedly as if it hadn't been the first time. You find yourself unable to cope, grabbing the hardwood until you realize there's not much give. So you resort to firmly biting his shoulder between your gasps and yelps. which only surges him on to drive into you faster, his hips snapping and the sounds of both your flesh filling the room.

You feel his clammy hand reach for the hair at the nape of your neck and you allow yourself to submissively follow regardless of your confusion. Art's breath mingles with yours as he asks:

"Is it good?"

You don't answer.

"Does it feel good?"

Your brows furrow together as you nod your head assertively up and down, chest heaving uncontrollably. He meets your lips and it feels as if he's kissing you solely for himself as he drags his hand on your cheeks and forehead, ridding your face of your sweat and hair. His other hand circulates your clit with a firm hold and you feel the familiar sensation approaching. Your skin felt both as cold and hot as it ever had, your teeth penetrating your bottom lip, biting Art in the process.

"I don't think we should do this.." You spit out quietly in intervals, because it feels like the right thing to say right before you come all over his cock and he leans down to look at the mess you've made in bliss. The results that it gives are fruitful, as you feel his fingers' relentlessness on your clit still. But you can tell he's struggling to stay where he is, trying to milk every moment he can inside of you.

You use your feet to push his hips back, arms reaching above your head as you untangle your limbs. Your legs remain sprawled out on his thighs, of which lay on his calves. The silence between you two is like molasses, and he stares at your core as you brush your socked toes against his abdomen, then cock.

You see a frown form on his face, but you're also met with the needy repeated rise of his hips that meet your foot and help you grind against him. You watch in awe as his eyes don't leave yours, confusion filling the air. You bring your feet faster, rubbing against his tip and watch as Art's whimper fills the air and his cum shoots to his lower stomach and your sock, his eyes closing, throat repeatedly bobbing as he rides his high. You watch as the thrusts into you become increasingly slower until they stop completely and the two of you are left still once again. You marvel in the way it seems almost as if he always gets what he wants. And Art isn't quite sure of what to make of you at all anymore, with his ears ringing and chest warm.

On his knees, he cascades towards your body that slumps against the door frame. He moves towards you slowly at first, hesitating if you wanted any of this at all. But you don't decline the warmth of his chest as he pulls you in, wordlessly. You let him bury his nose to your scalp as he takes you in.

And you both agree that if this may be a story of tonight alone, you both might as well melt indistinguishably into it once again.

#art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson smut #art donaldson x you #art donaldson /reader #art donaldson /you #challengers movie #challengers 2024 #art donaldson fic #art donaldson imagine

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crazy4leclerc · 1 day

Text

i can fix him (no really i can) — m.v.

The Tortured Drivers Department Series

pairing: fratboy!boxer!max verstappen x fem!reader

summary: you’re a bit too confident you can fix the stubborn boxer — max verstappen

warnings: angst, swearing, max being a stubborn lil bitch, dom!max?, and kissing

a/n: making a series called the tortured drivers department !!

—

never in my life did i think i would ever be watching an illegal boxing match, but here i am in this musty underground ring watching max beat the shit out of every opponent that dares to step foot in the ring.

"he is a beast out there!" charles yells to me over the roaring of the crowd, "i know, it's unbelievable!" i exclaim.

me and charles are standing in the front row, watching as another opponent steps in the ring. i bite on my fingers nervously watching as they circle eachother in the ring.

suddenly, the guy takes a swing at max, which max dodges and smirks devishly at his opponent.

"please tell me this is the last match." i ask charles and he nods his head yes. i sigh out in relief because i don't know how much longer i can continue to watch max’s life be in danger.

a gasp escapes me as i watch the opponent take a upper cut right into max's jaw. max stumbles backwards into the rope, gripping onto it as his opponent stands in the middle of the ring while the crowd goes crazy.

"that's the first time someone has laid a finger on max in months." charles confesses next to me, "oh my god, i don't think i can watch this anymore." i say before i turn around to walk out of the roaring arena.

charles didn't stop me and i'm glad he didn't. he knew this was my first time ever coming to a match and i worry too much about max to watch him get hurt without me running over to him.

running my hand over my face and sighing, i make my way into max's locker room, thankfully i remembered where it was. i throw my purse on the nearby bench and taking a seat. i put my head in my hands trying to even figure out why max wants to do any of this, putting his life into danger because it's fun? because he gets paid?

mine and max's relationship was weird. we weren't dating yet but we also weren't just friends. i think we both decided that we were together just no labels without confirming. me and max met outside of a bar a couple months ago when i found him slumped on the sidewalk, nose bleeding and a black eye forming. the caring person that i am, of course i went to go check on him, which then lead to where we are now.

i should have known the day i found him beat up that i was getting myself wrapped up in a troubled man, but i really couldn't help myself. today was the first time he invited me to one of his matches since i finally demanded answers from him of why he would always visit me with bloodied and bruised knuckles. i remember the night he explained everything to me.

taking me out of my thoughts, charles walks in the locker room, "i figured you would be in here. the match is over, max should be back here any minute."

"oh thank god, is he okay?" charles his head, "yes, he is all good and he won.” i sigh out in relief as the man himself walks in.

i jump up from the bench and rush over to him, throwing my arms around his neck, "i was worried sick about you!" maxs' arm wraps around my waist, squeezing me back.

"i'm alright, sweetheart." he says and lets go of me and tosses his gloves on the bench.

"is there a reason you're still lurking, charles?" i watch as charles eyes widen at max and mumbled out a 'sorry' as he walks out the locker room, leaving me and max alone.

max takes a seat on the bench and i hear him hiss out in pain. "max you really shouldn't be doing this anymore, i hate seeing you like this." i say as i walk over to him and slot my way in between his thighs.

"i get your concern, schat, but this is what i want to do." he huffs out, beginning to untape his bloodied knuckles, "here, let me."

i grab his hand gently and slowly unpeel the tape off, i feel max grip the back of my thighs, pulling me closer as he hisses out in pain.

"i know it hurts, im sorry." i try my best to comfort him as he winces in pain. it makes my heart ache seeing him in pain like this knowing this is what he likes to do.

"can you just- c'mere." he huffs out and pulls me down into his lap. my cheeks flushed at the action, "this is better. i like having you close." he murmurs to me as i begin to work on his other hand.

"i need to doctor your hands and then i need to check out your jaw." i tell him sternly and he grips my hips, "no, you don't need to do all that, you know i'm fine." i roll my eyes at him as i stand up from his lap, getting out of his grip.

"max, you need to take this serious. i'm tired of seeing your hands all beat up every week and seeing bruises on your body. charles told me tonight was the first night anyone has hit you in months. you always refuse to just let me help you and doctor up the cuts and i don't understand why, just let me fix you." i confess and he just sits there, eyes refusing to meet mine as i stand in front of him.

i reach out to grab his bloodied hand, "max, please? can you just listen-" he catches me off guard as he stands up quickly, now towering over me. his eyes bore into mine as his hand reaches up and grabs my jaw, he tilts my head up and whispers,

"i don't need fixing, sweetheart."

i reach up to grab his hand but i'm too late when he rips his hand away from my face, walking around me to the bathroom, leaving me standing alone.

"max, c'mon. don't be like this. i have yet to complain about you being too stubborn to let me help you but you can't just try to push me away now that i'm opening up about it. you know i just want to help." i say as i watch max yank his shirt over his head, "me? stubborn? no baby, i never asked for your help so i don't need it."

i cross my arms and audibly groan out in frustration. "are we seriously arguing over me being concerned for your well-being?"

i hear him chuckle as i watch his strip to his boxers, "who said we were arguing? why don't you come in here and let me fuck the frustration out of you?" he taunts me and i scoff at him.

"we aren't solving this with sex, max." he shrugs as i watch him strip his boxers off, smirking at me, "your loss, schat."

i roll my eyes as at him as he turns the shower on, stepping in.

"i'm just going to ask charles to take me home!" i exclaim but i hear max laugh, "your funny, he's already left. i'm your only ride unless you want to walk home." sitting back down on the bench, i face away from the open door of the bathroom and try to calm myself down while max showers.

what am i even doing? trying to fix a broken man? a man that refuses to recieve any form of help? a man that beats the shit out of others for money and because he likes it? what the actual hell am i doing.

"still mad at me?" i jump at the sound of his voice and how close it is. but i don't respond.

i stare at the ground as i can feel max walking over to stand in front of me.

"look at me." i snap my eyes up to meet his, refusing to look anywhere else even though his chest was twinkling in the light from the water.

"y'know i apprciate you, baby?" he questions me, "i feel like you don't, i just want to help you-"

"and i know you do, but you need to understand that i don't need help. there is no changing me. there is no fixing me, and that is something you need to get through that pretty head of yours if you want to be with me. got it?" i sigh out and stand up as max reaches out to me, grabbing my face in his big hands, "do you got it, leifje."

"yes." i say and he smiles at me, "that's my girl." patting my cheek, he pulls away and gets dressed. "now since we established there is no fixing one another, what do you think about being my girlfriend, hm?"

i stand there, frozen at his words, "girlfriend?" i repeat back and he hums. "me? you want me to be your girlfriend?" he laughs at my dumbfoundness and walks over to me, grabbing my waist as he sits down, pulling me into his lap.

"yes, you y/n, will you be a good girl and take the honors of being my girlfriend?" i cup his face in my hands and pull him in as we meet in a searing kiss.

"yes, i'll be your girlfriend, max." i whisper in the kiss and he smirks, pulling my hips closer, "and i will be your boyfriend."

meeting in another kiss, signifing our now relationship with labels, even though i couldn't fix him now, doesn't mean i won't stop trying in the future.

#nat writes #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #mv1 #mv1 x reader

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rafeandonlyrafe · 16 hours

Text

ready

words: 2.1k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, soft!rafe, inexperienced!reader (not a virgin though), p in v sex, mentions of past bad experiences

you feel like you've been kissing rafe for hours, but it's probably only been a few minutes as his lips gently glide against yours. his hands are placed securely at your waist, not venturing any further until you give him permission, even though he's itching to feel your bare skin.

“should we take this upstairs?” rafe asks, his voice a soft hum, sultry and low.

“oh, um-” you freeze, and rafe can feel the change in your body, the way you suddenly stiffen.

“just because wheezie is going to come home soon. we can just kiss, don't have to do anything you don't want to.” rafe quickly clarifies.

“yes, then.” you nod enthusiastically. “absolutely.”

rafe smiles, looping your hands together as he walks you upstairs to his room. you feel your heartbeat speed up, even though rafe assured you that you wouldn't be doing anything you weren't ready for.

“sorry for freaking out for a second earlier.” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as rafe shuts the door behind you.

“it's fine.” rafe shakes his head. “i should have been more clear. we take this at your pace, baby.”

“thank you.” you loop your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss. “who knew rafe cameron could be such a sweeatheart?”

“you bring it out in me, princess, i don't know what to say.” rafe backs you up until the back of your knees hit his bed and you lower yourself down.

“i do have a question though.” rafe hums as he sits himself down next to you. “and im not going to judge you either way, it's just for me to know how to handle things.”

“okay.” you nod, already guessing where this is going.

“are you a virgin?”

“no.” you shake your head. “ive had a couple experiences before but none of them have been… good.” you sigh, thinking back to your first boyfriend who took your virginity on prom night, in all of 30 seconds. “and i haven't had sex in a long time so in a way i kind of feel like a virgin.”

“okay.” rafe nods, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, gently cradling you against his side. “thank you for telling that to me.”

“i… want to, though. with you.”

“there's no rush, i want you too, but we can take our time.” rafe presses a kiss to your head.

“you're not gonna get bored waiting?” you duck your head as you speak, ashamed of the question even as you ask.

“never, babes. you're my girl, yeah? i don't take that lightly. if i wasn't willing to wait, i wouldn't have asked you out in the first place.”

a smile stretches across your cheeks as you hide your face in rafes shirt.

“oh, you're so cute when you're all shy.” rafe laughs, cupping your cheek and lifting your face up to look at him, pressing kisses all over your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose.

“i want you.” you say, chasing rafes lips to connect them.

“you already said that.”

“i mean-” you take a deep breath, considering your decision. “i mean i want you now. im ready.”

“right now? baby if you feel pressured-”

“no, no.” you grip his shirt. “i really want this.”

“okay.” rafe can't help the smile that stretches across his cheeks. “we're taking things slow though, alright?”

you nod, kissing him again as rafe moves you, guiding you to lay back against the pillows. he hovers over you, holding his weight up on his elbows.

rafe pulls back, looking down at you. “you're so beautiful.”

you feel your cheeks flush red as you blush, resisting the urge to cover your face.

“im gonna take my shirt off first, alright? make you feel nice and comfortable.” rafe says.

“you mean make me feel hot and turned on? because that's what happens when you take your shirt off around me.” you giggle.

“oh, i see the way you stare at me when i take you out on the boat.” rafe laughs, placing his knees on either side of your body on the bed, caging you in as he straightens out, pulling his shirt off.

“can i… touch you?” you question. you've hugged rafe before when he's shirtless, but you've never specifically focused on feeling his muscles.

rafe doesn't answer with his words, simply taking your hand and placing it on his abs.

you run your hand over the ridges of his abdomen before moving up, feeling his defined chest, pecks almost as big as your own breasts.

“satisfied?” rafe asks when you lower your hand.

“yeah im… im gonna take my shirt off now.” you tell rafe, wanting to feel rafe touching you, the way your bare skin presses together when he leans back down and kisses you.

rafe moves back, allowing you to pull your tank top off, leaving your bra covering your chest for now.

“so hot, baby.” rafe drops himself over you, kissing you again. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, feeling the way he's so sculpted there too as your hand drifts down his back.

“can i take your bra off?” rafe questions. “only if you want.”

“mhm.” you go to reach behind your back, but rafe moves faster than you, unclipping your bra and sliding the straps down your arms. he leaves you the final decision to pull the cups away.

you swear rafes eyes increase in size as he takes in your bare chest.

“it's okay, you can touch me. i-i want you to touch me.”

rafe nods, hands coming to cover your tits, large palms swallowing them.

“i know they're small-” you begin to explain, but rafe cuts you off.

“they're perfect, baby.” rafe says honestly. you can see him now beginning to tent in his shorts as he stays kneeling above you, hands moving to cup your tits, thumbs running around your nipples before swiping over them.

you gasp, surprised by how good it feels. none of the guys you slept with in the past paid any real attention to making you feel good as rafe continues, watching your nipples harden with every movement.

“we can stop here for today if you like.” rafe says, hands moving to your waist, wrapping around you as he drops once again to press a kiss to your lips.

“no, i don't want to stop.” you admit shyly. “i want you so bad.”

“good, because im hard as hell and if you wanted to stop id definitely have to go take care of myself in the bathroom.” rafes joke diffuses the situation even more as you let out a laugh.

“im just gonna touch you over your shorts for now. if at any point it's too much…” rafe trails off, knowing he's being so extra cautious you probably find it annoying, but he doesn't want today to be added to your list of bad experiences.

rafe moves himself to the side, distracting you with more kisses as his hand drops to spread your legs, fingers gently running over your thighs before moving up higher.

rafe keeps his movements light as he begins to rub your center, increasing the intensity when you moan against his mouth.

“does that feel good?” he smiles down at you, watching your face contort in pleasure.

“in… inside my shorts please.” you take rafes hand and move him one less barrier away. rafe sees your need and immediately begins to rub again, now with just your underwear in the way.

“oh god, you're so wet.” rafe groans, focusing in on your clit as you let out soft moans, aware that you're likely no longer alone in the house.

“i-i need you rafe.”

“yeah.” rafe pulls his hand out, clearly unable to wait as he's straining against the zipper of his shorts.

rafe steps off the bed and you watch in fascination as he undoes his shorts, sliding them off to reveal his incredibly obvious bulge in his underwear before rifling through his nightstand to pull out a condom.

“no complaints.” he says when you open your mouth. “i know you're on birth control but your first time with me is not going to be raw. just in case you don't like it.”

you giggle, rolling your eyes. “i know im gonna like it, rafe.”

“still.” he leans down, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

you watch intensely as rafes underwear is also pushed off his hips, his cock standing hard and up away from his body.

“do you want me to… suck it or something?”

“if you do that i won't get to fuck you.” it takes you a second to realize what rafe means.

“oh!”

“you just… really turn me on.” he admits.

you lift your hips and push your shorts and underwear down in one go, kicking them off the bed to add to the piles of clothes on the floor

rafe smirks, glad you're growing more and more confident every minute.

rafe lays back down next to you, both turning to the side to face each other.

“are you nervous?” rafe questions, hand falling to your bare hip, rubbing your leg and keeping his eyes locked with yours, despite wanting to look down and see all of you.

“i thought i would be.” you admit softly. “but im not. not with you.”

“im gonna let you control everything at first.” rafe lifts your leg and sets it over his hip, his cock nestling between your thighs.

you close your eyes as you press down, experimenting with the way rafes cock rubs through your folds, having to remember to keep your moans quiet when it bumps against your clit.

“whenever you're ready.” rafe says, his eyes now squeezed shut as he concentrates on holding himself back.

you reach down, grasping rafes cock as you move him against your entrance, angling your hips as you sink forward until he's as far inside of you as he can get in this position.

“just…” rafes hand squeezes at your hip. “stay like that for a second, baby.”

you need a moment to adjust anyways, so you keep your hips still until rafe exhales and nods at you.

you look down between your bodies, watching the way his cock disappears inside of you with every movement.

“god, you feel amazing.” he moans.

“you can move. please.” you whimper. rafe nods again, beginning to rock back and forth, making the mattress squeak underneath you as he meets your thrusts.

the movements may be slow, but you're gradually building up, experimenting by shifting your hips and seeing what feels best.

you let out a sudden moan when you tilt your hips and rafes cock hits a new sensitive spot inside of you.

“no one's ever done that before for you, huh?” rafe smiles at your clear shock and pleasure as he thrusts in and presses the spot again.

“oh fuck.” you whine, head leaning back as rafe carefully moves you onto your back so he can take over.

“you don't know how long ive wanted to see you like this.” rafe says, balancing on his elbows as his hips press into you, keeping the thrusts slow but deep.

“moaning beneath me. god, i would have waited forever for you but im so glad we're doing this now.”

“rafe, stop.” you whine. “you're gonna make me cry and im way too horny to start sobbing.”

rafe laughs, bending down to press a kiss to your forehead before refocusing on your pleasure as he speeds up.

“im gonna touch your clit as i fuck you, baby.” rafe informs you before moving his hand, thumb pressing over your clit as he rubs.

“oh shit!” you squeal before quickly covering your mouth, your hips lifting off the bed as rafe continues to fuck into you.

“are you close?” he questions, glad that you nod, not sure how much longer he can hold off.

rafe pushes his pleasure aside for a bit longer as he presses inside of you, sighing with relief when he feels you tighten around him.

“oh my god, rafe!” you moan as your high suddenly hits, entire body shaking as your pussy pulses around his cock, spurring on rafes own orgasm as he cums with a moan of your name, filling the condom.

he gives you a feel final thrusts, his thumb shakily rubbing your clit through your high until he can't hold himself up any longer, collapsing on the bed to the side of you.

you're both breathing heavily, recovering from the intensity. as soon as rafe can get his muscles to respond to him, he pulls you in close, tucking you against his side.

“so, was i good baby?” he asks, even as your body still shakes with the after waves of your pleasure.

“best ive ever had.” you grin up at him. “by a long shot.”

“just what i like to hear.” rafe bends down to give you a kiss before pushing your hair away from his face and leaning to whisper into your ear. “and you haven't even got to feel my mouth yet. just wait until i eat you out.”

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moonstruckme · 5 hours

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Hi 🥺 can I pretty please ask for a fic with emt!marauders treating and helping reader get through getting stitches? Maybe having a huge fear of needles and they always make her so faint and nauseous so the boys fix up their clumsy girl and coach her through getting them because it’s just the absolute worst time ever?

Hi lovely, thank you for requesting! These always get so long because I get wrapped up in the semantics haha. I don’t think this is an accurate reflection of how things work for paramedics, but for the purposes of fiction we’re gonna ignore that :3

Cw: needles, hospital, mention of nausea

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 2.1k words

James is murmuring what you imagine to be placations into the side of your head, so quietly you can’t make them out, and you’re doing your best to keep your hand completely still as a nurse cleans the cut on your palm.

Sirius is watching you from beside the small bed with tension written all over him. He’s digging his fingernails into his biceps and looking like he might actually jump the nurse if she makes a wrong move.

“Where’s Remus?” he asks, not for the first time.

“He’s just finishing up with another patient,” she answers again. “He’ll be here shortly.”

As eager as you are to see your boyfriend, dread curls like vines around your ribcage. James, sensing this, presses his lips to your temple.

Ordinarily, paramedics don’t handle stitches, but at your request and after some sweet-talking on James’ part, the director agreed to let Remus see to you. What was staunchly not allowed, however, was for anyone not currently on shift to step in, so your remaining two boyfriends are stuck providing emotional support. James seems to be taking this better, whereas Sirius has been antsy and overprotective since you’d arrived.

A fraction of the tautness in his biceps dissipates when a familiar set of quick footsteps draws closer on the tiled floor outside your curtain. The nurse is the only one who doesn’t seem to notice, the three of you perking up like meerkats the moment before Remus pulls back the curtain, stepping inside.

“Hi,” he says, a small, automatic smile curving his lips at the sight of all of you.

The nurse finishes with perfect timing, tossing the wipe into the trash as she starts to leave. You and Remus both thank her, and once the curtain closes the four of you in together everything feels suddenly more right. You hear James sigh softly.

Remus gets closer than he was willing with a colleague present, wrapping a kind hand around your elbow and soothing upward from there. “Hi, darling,” he says again, softer now. “They tell me you’ve had a kitchen accident.”

“Totally intentional,” James jokes. “We all just really missed you, needed an excuse to visit.”

You try to laugh for his sake, and though it’s not fully felt it still helps to loosen the knot of unease in your chest.

Remus smiles gently. His thumb strokes up and down the back of your arm. “How are you doing?” he asks you.

You do your best to smile back at him, though from Sirius’ expression it must not be very good. “Honestly? I already feel kind of nauseous.”

“That’s okay,” he promises, and you can tell he’s making his voice extra low and smooth on purpose. Any other time you might laugh at him for it, but actually it’s quite helpful. “It makes sense to be a bit nervous, yeah? But you won’t feel anything, and so long as you don’t look at it while I’m working I think we’ll be all right.”

Remus looks you in the eyes for a moment longer to make sure you understand. His eyes are the color of tea steeped just the way you like it, warm and honey-sweet. And maybe you’re feeling vulnerable and mushy, but you think you fall a little more in love with him.

You nod, letting him take your injured hand.

“I have to numb it,” he warns you, “and that will likely be the hardest part, but once it’s done things will go fairly easily. Okay?”

You press your lips together, nodding again not because you want to but because you know you don’t have much choice. James readjusts his hold on you, gripping you tightly with one arm around your shoulders and the other folding your head into his chest. You suspect it’s partly to keep you from moving and partly because he knows you need it, but it feels as though he’s just doing his best to give you a continual hug. You appreciate the effort.

You follow the movement of Remus’ hand as he picks up a syringe from the tray the nurse had brought in. There’s that odd tingly feeling of the blood draining from your face, the awful queasiness in your stomach.

“Don’t look,” Sirius tells you, voice just as caring as it is tense. You can tell he’s trying to calm himself for your sake, even if he’s not very good at it. You’ve heard from James and Remus that he’s cool as a cucumber when he works with other patients, but when it’s you or someone he cares about he can’t help getting a bit rattled. “You’re okay, baby, just close your eyes. Think of something else.”

You can manage the first but not the second. When you feel Remus shifting his hold on your hand your breaths shallow.

“Quick poke,” he murmurs, and your grip on James tightens as his does on you.

Though you think you’re prepared for it, a mortifying pained sound rises in your throat at the sting. Both James and Sirius coo sympathetically, but then it’s done, and Remus is murmuring praises while James presses kiss after kiss into your hair.

You open your eyes to find Sirius has moved closer. He passes you a vomit bag, and you take it thankfully, trying to breathe through the closure in your throat.

“You’ve got it,” he tells you, brows knit together by both sympathy and concern. “You’re okay, it’s already over with.”

“I don’t really feel like I’m completely out of the woods,” you try to joke. The truth to it tightens something in you nonetheless.

“You won’t even feel the rest,” James assures you, still with his lips stuck to you like it’s his job. He smells nice, his eucalyptus shampoo cutting through the icky hospital scent. “You’ll hardly know it’s happening, lovie, we’ll just talk about other things and be out of here before you know it.”

“I really don’t want to faint,” you say. “I feel like today has been bad enough without fainting.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” says Remus. You’ve been avoiding looking at him, wary of catching sight of another needle or worsening your nausea by seeing your cut, but his gloved hands are empty. He cradles your injured hand in one, the other drawing a tranquilizing path up and down the side of your thigh. “You won’t faint, sweetheart. We’ll do our best to keep you distracted, and if you need to take breaks we can do that. It’s whatever you need.”

You blow out a long breath, nodding. Remus gives you a small smile.

“I only ask that you don’t hold any of this against me,” he teases. “I’m going to require lots of assurance that you’re not upset when I get home.”

James coos, sounding like he’s considering pulling Remus into your hug as well.

“No, I know this is all my own fault,” you admit. Sirius huffs his agreement. “I could never hold my clumsiness against you.”

“I appreciate that.” Remus sends Sirius an intrigued look. “Though maybe I’ll have to make it up to you by cooking, since it seems like you could be barred from the kitchen for some time. Can you feel that?”

You blink at him. “Feel what?”

“Good.”

Remus starts messing with things on the tray again, and both James and Sirius seem to come to attention, James putting his arm around your head again while Sirius pulls up a chair by the bed.

“The medicine’s working,” Remus tells you, “so I’m going to go ahead and get started, okay? Just try and relax for me, sweetheart.”

Your eyes go automatically to what he’s doing, but Sirius says sharply, “Hey.”

That gets your attention, and he gives you an apologetic look, gentling his tone as he takes your good hand.

“Just look at me,” he tells you. You don’t know if he knows it, but his thumb is tracing a line below your thumb that’s exactly where your cut is on your other palm. “Are you okay to talk, pretty girl?”

You hum. It comes out high-pitched and shakier than you would’ve expected.

“Why don’t you tell us about that book you want Remus to read?”

For a moment, surprise eclipses your anxiety. “You really wanna hear about that?”

Sirius grins. “No, but you’ve got a captive audience. If I were you I’d seize my chance.”

You start to smile back at him, but then there’s an odd tugging sensation on your hand. Sirius notices the change, moving to block your view with his hand before you can look towards Remus’ work. Still, your stomach rolls uneasily. Your head feels unnaturally light.

Sirius says your name firmly. “Tell us about the book, baby.”

“It’s…” You fight to solidify your thoughts. “It’s a true story.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I thought it was fiction, but it’s not.” Another tug, and you whimper. “Sorry, I don’t feel well.”

“You’re doing great,” James says, and Sirius takes the bag from you, opening it up in case you need it. “Just stay relaxed, we’ve got you.”

“What’s the true story?” Sirius asks, trying to get you back on task. “What’s it about?”

“This guy,” you answer. “He’s from Syria, but he lives in New Orleans and he’s there when Hurricane Katrina hits. I’m not that far in, but so far it’s about, like—” you swallow “—how he’s discriminated against even when he’s helping people.”

Though you try to stop it, a tear skids down your cheek. Sirius wipes it away gently. “Yeah?” he asks you. “Are you liking it so far?”

You nod, feeling more in your own body as you try to focus on the conversation. Even the panic is a bit of a relief, better than the strange weightlessness of your head when you’re on the brink of passing out.

“I don’t think I would have picked it up if I’d known it was nonfiction,” you tell Sirius. He smiles wryly, which looks like it takes effort. “I usually only read fiction, but this was done really well.”

“I think you’re right,” he replies. “Remus absolutely should read that.”

“Not you?” James teases.

Sirius shoots a mean look over your head, though you can tell he’s relieved at the familiar banter. “Are you volunteering?” he asks James. “No? Didn’t think so.”

“Surely there’s a movie version we can watch instead. Lovie, do you know?”

“I haven’t heard of one,” you admit, “but the book’s a bit older, so maybe the movie came out before I’d heard about it.”

“We’ll have to look it up,” Sirius decides. “If it’s really that good, there’ll be a movie.”

That’s something you could argue about forever, and he knows it, but just then you hear something snip and Remus says, “There.”

“There?” you echo.

Sirius looses a breath, and James hugs you tightly. “You’re all done, angel,” he says brightly.

“Oh.” You feel, perhaps, not as relieved as you ought to, and Sirius chuckles at your confusion, taking your face between his hands and planting a kiss between your brows.

“You really are done,” he promises you. “You killed it, babe.”

James loosens his grip on you and Sirius moves his hand, letting you turn your head to see Remus securing a bandage over your palm. He looks up at you when he pulls off his gloves, pride and fondness mingled in his expression. His eyes narrow at the look on your face.

“Hug?” he guesses, and you nod as you sit forward, wrapping your hands around his shoulders.

It’s the closure you need, relief dissolving the tension in your muscles and gut as Remus’ thumb strokes your nape reassuringly. “Thanks,” you mumble into his shoulder.

“You did it, darling,” he tells you. “Nothing to thank me for.”

“Before I bled all over our counter, I was cutting tomatoes for pasta tonight,” you say. “I’ll finish it up when I get home so I can thank you with dinner.”

Sirius scoffs loudly. “Yeah, fat chance. You’re not going near another knife for the rest of your life.”

You roll your eyes as you pull away from Remus, but he raises an eyebrow at you, smiling faintly. “I’m with him on this one,” he says. “At least a temporary kitchen ban is in order.”

You groan, leaning sideways until your shoulder rests on James’ chest. He wraps his arms around you automatically. “You guys are so lame,” you gripe.

“Don’t worry, lovie,” says James, kissing the side of your nose lightly. “I’ll finish your pasta when we get home. Everybody wins.”

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spatialwave · 2 days

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“𝓼𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓪 𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓼𝓮, 𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓮 𝓪 𝓬𝓸𝔀𝓫𝓸𝔂”

pairing: pre-war cooper howard x fem!reader

word count: 938

summary: you’re cooper’s favourite cowgirl.

warnings: mdni! smut, porn w plot, affair/cheating, riding, cooper loves the view ;)

notes: two posts within 12 hours?? i am addicted 🫣

you’d met cooper on a film set working as a seamstress, your skilled hands sewing and tailoring the clothing he wore on the big screen. the two of you grew close as the weeks and months passed by, especially when his career took a turn for the worst when he started filming advertisements for vault-tec. it was unfortunate to watch him as his energy depleted, each day looking worse for wear as his passion vanished.

gossip spread like wildfire and you’d learned from a few girls in the makeup pertinent about his life at home and how he and his wife were going through a tough spot—a divorce. you couldn’t imagine the heartbreak

you were careful to bring up barb in conversation, the pain in his eyes taking forefront anytime her name was mentioned, but acting like it was no issue.

you were there for him as much as you could be, taking him for a hot cup of coffee once in a while in an attempt to bring some cheer into his life. to be a friend of cooper howard was a title you held near and dear to your heart, you hadn’t expected for it to get any farther than it did.

it all started one night when you two met for drinks—gin, whiskey, martinis and everything in between. it only took three drinks for cooper to spill his guts about barb. how she wasn’t who he thought she was, and that it was destroying their family.

he didn’t go into the gritty details, but you believed him and you were there for him. what was only a polite, reassuring touch on his shoulder had ignited a flame in both of you, eyes connecting when you shared the same thought.

an hour later you found yourself on your bed, with cooper’s tongue pressed against your wet arousal and your fingers tugging on his dark, greying hair. it became a regular occurrence, but you kept telling yourself that this was okay. it was okay because he was going through a divorce.

even if they were technically still married… even if he was still living at home with barb and his daughter, still wearing his wedding ring. this was okay.

right?

“oh my god—“ you cried out, your legs spread open as your lover fucked you with his face buried into your neck. he peppered you with hundreds of kisses, biting and leaving the faintest of marks along your soft skin, “don’t stop, coop, fuck me,” you whined into his ear, your eyes closed while your fingernails scratched down his back.

he moaned against your skin as his cock stretched you with each forward snap of his hips. he was tired, sweat beading on his forehead—he didn’t have the endurance like he used to, but he had an easy fix.

cooper pushed himself back until he was settled on his knees, pulling out of you as his thick cock sprung up and gave you quite the view. you let out a whiny, pitiful sound at the emptiness as you clenched around nothing like a needy young thing. the older man could stay like this forever, happily watching his lover begging and pleading to be fucked by him until you were filled up with his cum—a sight for sore eyes.

just before you could protest his actions and ask him to keep fucking you dumb, he wrapped an arm under your waist and moved to rest on his back with you straddling him. your knees dug into the plush comforter, palms flattening onto cooper’s bare chest.

your voice cracked as you shuddered out a moan, the overbearing fullness of his cock pushing deep inside your slick cunt. his calloused hands were tight on your hips as he guided your movements, wanting to see you fuck yourself on him.

“look at me,” cooper drawled, that disgustingly beautiful smirk on his lips, “what a pretty cowgirl. you look so good ridin’ me like that,” he murmured, thumb now circling over your clit as you started grinding your hips against his to get the friction you craved.

obediently, you forced your eyes open to look into cooper’s hazel orbs and lifted your hands away from his chest to settle on weight on his hips. you gave him the perfect view, able to watch as you rolled your hips forward and seeing how your perky tits bounced. his eyes glazed over as mouth opened, a heady moan falling from his lips as you rode him with the practiced movements you’d learned from the handfuls of nights shared together.

“am i your favourite cowgirl?” you asked, pouting your lips and moaning while his thumb rubbed slow, calculated movements along your clit. you both had slowed your movements, taking in the raw intimacy and pleasure you shared. savouring every last bit of it because neither of you ever wanted it to end.

“don’t be coy with me, baby,” he answered quietly, reaching his free hand to touch your breast, giving a firm squeeze, then rolling your nipple between his fingers, “you know the answer.”

mewling, you closed your eyes tight when he pinched your puffy, hard nipple and a sharp pain shot through your nerves before settling into a sick, twisted feeling of pleasure.

“keep, ridin’,” he whispered, voice raspy, “c’mon, doll, i know you want to cum on my cock.”

you nodded pitifully, trying your best to will your thighs to keep bouncing on him, even as you ached.

cooper watched you with a lazy grin, keeping his thumb right where you needed it until you came with a loud cry—loving every goddamn second.

#cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #walton goggins #fallout fic #fallout prime fic #cooper howard fic #the ghoul fic #wordsbyspatial

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mattslolita · 1 day

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older - m. sturniolo

in which ... your boyfriend comes back pissed off, and you let him take his anger out on you. older!boyfriend!matt x black!fem!reader

warnings ; rough!dom!matt , sub!reader , unprotected piv ( wrap it freaks ), oral ( fem! receiving ), fingering , creampie

"𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒃𝒊𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓, 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒐𝒇𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰

you had just got home from your shopping spree with your friend, a happy and giddy mess as you held your bags in your hand whilst you made your way up to your boyfriend's room.

since he had work, he had made sure to give you one of the spare keys to the home he shared with he and his brothers — he took care of everything, even providing you with a place to live, as he wanted you living with him.

you also wanted to hurry and get your bags sorted out before he came back, in case he needed to finish up some work so you wouldn't be in his way.

after putting your bags on the bed in you guys' shared bedroom, you strip from your outside clothing into your pajamas for the rest of the day, deciding to keep the pink bow you wore in your hair. you then made your way downstairs into the kitchen. you slid around in your socks as you stopped in front of the fridge, opening it as you hummed to a song under your breath.

you took out fresh strawberries and a rootbeer, setting them both on the counter as you closed the fridge — whilst balancing the strawberries in one hand and the rootbeer can in the other, you pranced back upstairs into the room, closing the door behind you as you did so.

you set the strawberries on the neat and tidy desk space, along with the root beer. cracking the can open, you take a small sip of the bubbly, sugary liquid as it goes down your throat.

the small mini speaker you kept on the vanity desk sat there, causing you to grin as you hooked your phone to it, turning on the bluetooth. you sat down at the vanity desk, a hand under your chin as you put both your feet under thighs, causing your ass to pop out slightly.

you begin to hum as you can be the boss by lana del rey plays throughout the speaker, standing up and walking over to the bags.

"you taste like the fourth of july, malt liquor on your breath my my," you sing, taking out a cute top, "i love you but i don't know why."

your socks padded against the floor as you almost bounced over to the mirror, holding the top up to you as you tilted your head while gazing at yourself. a smile instantly overtakes your features as you go to hang the top up in the closet.

a loud opening of the bedroom door causes you to gasp and turn around, only to find your boyfriend with an irritable expression painting his features, running a hand along the stubble on his jaw.

"hi baby!" you say cheerily, in attempt to fix his frown, his eyes immediately raking over your body causing you to tingle nervously, "is everything okay?"

"everything's fine, doll," he huffs, and you frown at this, crossing your arms over your chest taking slow steps towards him. "i'm just pissed as fuck right now."

his eyes settle onto your shared bed just then, causing you to bite your lip worriedly as they scan the various shopping bags. "where'd you go while i was gone?"

"it's no big deal, i just went shopping with sasha," you say nervously, prancing over towards the bed as you hold up a different top to show him, "do you like this?"

"whose money did you use?" he curves your question with his own, his arms crossing over his chest as you get a full view of the tatted arm causing a wetness to form in the cloth of your thong.

"mine..." you answer him, your doe eyes looking up at him as you blink.

"your money," he chuckles, except there's not a hint of amusement in his tone of voice — it's a condescending tone he takes with you, and you can already see what's going to happen before it does.

"what'd i tell you?" he asks you, walking up to you slowly, as your legs are now pressed against the bed while his hands go to grip your waist harshly, "about spending your money? did you forget the rules, bunny?"

"n-no," you swallow, attempting to divert your gaze elsewhere.

his ringed hand hooks onto your jaw, forcing your gaze upright towards his. "look at me when i'm talking to you, doll. did you forget the rules?"

"no, i didn't forget the rules," you shake your head, your bottom lip pouting slightly as you answered him.

"tuh, i was almost hoping you had forgotten," he says with a shake of his head, his jaw ticking, "i'm already pissed the fuck off about work, then i come home to see this?"

"m'sorry, baby," you tell him, your eyes downcast slightly, until suddenly they glimmer with an idea as you look up at him. "do you wanna talk about work?"

"no," he grunts, tracing small patterns along your waist as you're still pressed up against him, causing your legs to almost give out, "i don't want to talk about shit."

"you can take your anger out on me," you meekly suggest to him, looking up with doe eyes as you trace patterns along his chest.

his blue eyes turn dark and his gaze on you now primal, as he licks his lips whilst he looks down at you — he pulls you flush against himself, connecting your lips angrily as your teeth clash. he hooks his arms under your legs and lifts you onto the bed, throwing you back down as his lips never leave yours.

he swallows a moan you let out as his tongue explores your mouth, the kiss sloppy while his hands travel up and down your body — he tugs at your bottom lips and clamps down on it slightly, causing you to whine as he pulls away, your saliva connecting both of your lips.

"such a whiny girl, always so needy," matt hums, tugging on the waistband of your shorts as he licks his lips, "you gonna let me taste you, princess?"

"please," you whine out, bucking your hips up into his to gain some sort of friction, "need you so bad, matt."

he presses your hips back down into the mattress, connecting your lips once again in a hungry, impatient kiss. he travels down to your neck, biting on the sensitive skin there and pulling out a moan from you, as he continues in a pattern leaving you writhing under his grasp.

he pulls away to admire his work with a smirk. "can't wait for you to see what that looks like."

his lips are back on your skin feverishly, pulling your top over your head as he travels down and leaves a trail of kisses to your stomach down to your navel, causing you to whine as he makes his way to the lower half of your body slowly. "matt, don't tease me-"

"i can tease you however i want, bunny," matt growls as he latches onto your thighs, his fingers creating crescent shapes in your plush brown skin as he yanks you closer to him. "now be a good girl and let me have a taste."

he's quick to snatch both your shorts and thong off your body, moving so that his face was level with your already wet pussy — he wastes no time in attaching his mouth to your sensitive bud, licking and sucking at it harshly causing a string of moans to erupt from your throat.

"f-fuck matt, feels so good!" you moan out, arching your back as one hand goes to grip his hair whilst the other fists the sheets.

he continues his assault on your pussy, licking a stripe up it before he decides to add two fingers in your dripping core while he eats you out. "oh m-my gosh, yes!"

"could taste this pussy for hours," matt groans, diving back into you with his mouth as his fingers curl inside your walls.

"please, don't stop!" you whine out, tugging at his hair harshly as his fingers curl into the sweet spot inside you, his tongue nipping and sucking at your bundle of nerves.

"you close yet, angel?" matt asks you, coming up quickly as he stares at you, your head thrown back and back arched, and he feels the way your walls squeeze his ringed fingers. "let go f'me, c'mon."

"fuck, i'm-"

like a tidal wave your orgasm comes crashing down, and you let out a loud pornographic moan of matt's name whilst you squirt all over his tongue — he lapped up the remainder of your juices, swallowing every drop as he comes up, a wicked grin painting his features as he stares down at you.

"can't wait to fuck you dumb, baby," he mumbles, quickly sliding out of his sweatpants and boxers, his cock wet with precum.

your eyes widen slightly, your lip beginning to quiver. "m-matt, i'm still sensitive-"

"i know you can take it, doll," matt tells you, stroking his cock along your pussy, lubricating his cock in your juices causing him to let out a low moan, "look at me."

without warning, he rams into you, his hips snapping against your pelvis causing you to cry out, the pain soon turning into pleasure — your nails dig into his back which were sure to create scratches as he plows into you.

"oh fuck me, your pussy feels so good," matt groans, his cock sliding in and out of you at an ungodly pace. all that could be heard was the squelching of both your juices mixed with the slapping of skin.

"right there, fuck!" you moan, arching your back as his tip kisses your cervix, causing your eyes to roll in the back of your head as your nails dig into his flesh.

"such a potty mouth," matt tuts, gripping your chin and forcing you to look up at him. he glares down at you, one hand wrapping around your throat, putting slight pressure onto it, "oh, and did you think i forgot about your little shopping spree? such a bad girl, don't know when to listen to me."

he throws one of your legs over his shoulder, this new angle causing you to see stars as his pace somehow increases — you're a moaning mess and you'll definitely be sore by the time he's finished, but you didn't care; you loved when he fucked you senseless.

a small puddle of drool formed at the creases of your mouth, your eyes still rolled back as matt's cock continued thrusting into you harshly. "look at that, all fucked out f'me. you liked being fucked like a slut?"

all you could do is nod and whimper, causing his to grip your chin once again, forcing your gaze towards his own. "use your fuckin' words, doll face. you like being fucked like a slut?"

"y-yes, matt," you babbled, clenching around his cock as your nails drove into his flesh harder, "m'close again..."

"yeah?" matt groans, his hips snapping against yours relentlessly as his cock drilled into you, "hold it."

"i-i can't-"

"you can bunny, and you will," matt growls in your ear, biting down on your earlobe slightly before he presses sloppy kisses against your neck, biting down harshly, "fuck, i'm gonna cum. gonna let me fill you up, princess?"

"please," you whimper, feeling his cock twitch inside you.

with a moan of your name and multiple curses, matt shoots his load inside of you, painting your walls a creamy white as his hips sputter — however, he doesn't stop his assault on your pussy, still drilling his cock in and out of you.

"go on and cum f'me angel, i can feel you squeezing me," you groans in your ear.

another loud moan ensued, as your legs shook and you came on his cock, your juices now mixing with his — after one last sloppy thrust, matt pulls out of you and falls down next to you.

"you okay, bunny?" matt asks you, placing a kiss to your temple as he rubs his hand along your stomach.

"just can't move that good," you mumble weakly, giving him a small smile.

"fuck, c'mere baby," matt curses, and you scoot as close to him as possible.

he hooks both arms under your legs and your head, carrying you towards your shared bathroom — you stood there weakly, your legs still shaking as he helps you sit down so you can pee.

"stay here, and you better pee, okay?" matt instructs you, and you hum as he leaves the bathroom momentarily.

he comes back with a washcloth, wiping your legs up and rubbing smooth circles around it, causing you to relax as you smile down at him shyly.

"how bout we take a shower?" matt asks you, and you nod giddily.

matt helps you stand up and he flushes the toilet. when you turn to the mirror, your eyes widen at your neck, and you move as to get a better look at what it says.

m a t t.

lil 💌

hi gang, hope i ain't disappoint w this smut😞 my thighs were lowkey clenched the entire time, i need someone to ruin me like this💔 i love you guysss hope you enjoyed ts muah💌.

@luverboychris @muwapsturniolo @guccifrog @thenickgirl @prettiest-poision @mattsturniolosleftnut @mrssturnioloo @junnniiieee07 @astrowh0r3 @v33angel @ilovechrissturniolo1 @e1ias3 @eyeliketoeatpoosay @middlepartmatt @chris-slut @chrissturniolossidehoe @sturnprime @sp3aknaur @hysteria-things @stasiesturn @moonk1ss3d @l0akkzz @sturn777 @prettypinkprincess15 @breeloveschris @summerssover @mayhem-72 @riasturns @v33angel @h3arts4harry @stargirll567 @bitchydragonparadise @heartsforchrisandmatt @pepsienthusiasts @tillies33ssss @k4di333 @pinksturniolo @jnkvivi @hoesformatt @sturncakez @livelovepercabeth

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