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lovebugism · 17 days

Note

hi bug! Can I request you a ditzy or shy!reader where some girl flirts with Steve in front of her maybe at Family Video? Little angsty because she feels insicure of herself? Thank you🩷

ty for requesting!! — steve doesn't realize he's being flirted with because he's so in love with you (ditzy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, 1.6k)

You color in a scribbled heart with enough vigor to break the pink crayon in your hand.

Steve always hangs your drawings in his locker in the Family Video break room, so you tend to take your art pretty seriously. ‘Cause there’s absolutely nothing humorous about the two stick figures holding hands — each of them vaguely resembling the both of you — that you’re passionately scribbling behind the front counter.

He’d watch you work your magic on a piece of lined scrap paper if he could. He’s too busy tending to a regular now. Mia, he thinks, or maybe Maia. She rents movies every week, but according to the system, she doesn’t watch a single one of them.

“Well, what do you recommend?” she questions with a smirk on her painted lips, leaning her elbows on the counter until her chest juts out.

Steve leans slowly backward and tries not to cough at the overwhelming scent of her fruity perfume. “Uh… I don’t know,” he answers with an unenthusiastic shrug. “I usually just watch whatever.”

The girl squints her dolled-up eyes. “You don’t have a favorite movie?”

Steve ponders the question for a moment. ‘Cause he doesn’t have one, really. All his favorite films are your favorites because he spends the majority of movie nights watching you instead.

So, at a loss of how to answer, he tells her your first choice. “The Star Wars movies are pretty alright.”

“Do you have them here?” she wonders.

Steve nods and points her in the other direction. “Yeah. In the Sci-Fi section.”

“Can you show me?” the girl questions with a hopeful glint in her pale eyes. Everything about her sparkles with mischief, like a predator hunting for prey. Stealthy, like a ninja, Steve would’ve called the approach a couple years ago. Long before he found you.

He’s more into forthright proclamations of love these days — bubblegum pink lipstick stains pressed to his cheek and handmade pictures drawn in crayon.

But, for the sake of Keith totally reaming him for not helping a customer, Steve nods and rounds the front counter. “Uh. Yeah. Sure. Follow me,” he urges halfheartedly, sparing you a forlorn glance as he goes. You’re much too distracted to see it, though.

You’re too distracted to notice most things, really.

That’s why Robin’s angrier than you are about the whole thing. She exhales a big huff and stands across from you, peering over the tower of tapes there. “God, he’s so oblivious,” she groans.

Your hand freezes as you color in Steve’s vest. You glance up at her with wide eyes, heart sinking at the annoyed look on her freckled features. “Huh?”

“Steve. That girl’s been drooling over him for five minutes, and he hasn’t even realized.”

Your brows pinch. “What girl?”

“The one that’s hanging all over him,” Robin answers, nodding her head to the other side of the store. The girl in question lingers at Steve’s side, a little too close to be casual. She hangs on every word he says — which certainly can’t be a whole lot, considering he knows next to nothing about that Star Wars franchise.

“I thought she was just being nice,” you shrug.

“She was flirting with your boyfriend,” Robin corrects in a monotone. “It was disgusting. I’m pretty sure her flirt got all over my pants.”

You look back at the two across the room. Steve tenses when the pretty redhead presses her chest against his arm. For the sake of not making things totally awkward, he forces himself not to shrink away. What had seemed virtually innocuous to you now makes your stomach ache.

“She’s so pretty…” you observe quietly to yourself.

Robin only scoffs. “Yeah. If you’re into girls like that.”

You don’t know exactly what she means, but it makes you lean slightly forward in interest anyway. “Do you think… Do you think Steve’s into girls like that?”

“No,” Robin answers, features twisted like it’s obvious. “He’s into girls like you.”

For the first time ever, you find that slightly hard to believe. Why would Steve ever pick you over someone like her? The way she smiles is pretty. The way she laughs is pretty. Even the way she talks is pretty.

And what do you have? A couple of stupid crayon portraits?

A strange feeling sears your chest when Steve and the pretty girl walk back to the counter. He must’ve told her a joke or something ‘cause she tips back her head to laugh loudly in response. Jealous tears sting your eyes accordingly. You take your art and your box of dull crayons and scurry off to the break room.

“I can help you check out!” Robin offers, suddenly very chipper.

The redhead’s face twists. “Oh. I thought that—”

“Steve’s needed in the breakroom, actually,” Robin tells her when the stranger’s pleading eyes flit to the boy beside her. “I can handle it from here.”

“Wait— What’s in the breakroom?” he wonders obliviously.

“Your girlfriend, dingus.”

Steve blinks once. The sudden lack of your presence makes his chest ache. He stalks off to find you without another word.

The redhead, Mia or Maia or whatever, doesn’t bother to disguise the shock painting her dainty features. “Girlfriend?” she echoes, quiet with disbelief.

Robin nods and takes the tapes from her hands, knowing she’s only renting them ‘cause she thought Steve liked them. The scanner beeps as she rings them up. “Yeah. He’s kinda in love with her, turns out. It’s disgusting.”

The conversation fades the further Steve gets down the hall. He opens the door to the back room with a grating squeak. The rusted hinges screech again in protest when he swings it shut behind him. He finds you slouched over the table, vehemently scribbling with vibrantly colored crayons.

He can’t help but smile at the sight of you. “Whatcha doin’?” he lilts in place of a greeting, sliding back a chair to sit across from you.

“Nothin’…” you mutter distantly.

Steve folds his arms over the tabletop and rests his chin on top of them. It bobs with every word. “Why’d you leave me, huh?”

You shrug with a faint I don’t know type of sound.

“Can I see what you’re drawing, at least?”

He grins and reaches for you without thinking — because you always let him see. Needless to say, when flinch suddenly away from him, it scares him far more than it should. You scramble to cover the paper with your arms like you’re doing something wrong.

“No,” you answer in a mousy voice.

A chuckle spills from Steve’s mouth. “What? Why? You always show me.”

“It’s stupid…”

“It’s not stupid! I love when you draw stuff for me,” the boy insists with a lopsided smile, distantly surprised by your sheepishness. The pretty pink grin slips from his mouth at the crestfallen glint in your eye. He softens without thinking. “What’s wrong? What happened? Did— Did Robin say something?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

You avert your eyes from his prying ones, feeling half-suffocated beneath his honeyed gaze. You start to color again with an absentminded hand, if only to have something else to look at. “You’re just…” you trail off, shifting uncomfortably in your chair. “You’re too pretty.”

He laughs before he means to. “What?”

“You’re pretty, and I don’t like that other people get to look at you,” you confess quietly, coloring in Steve’s hair with the ‘deep golden’ crayon. “It’s not fair— No one else should think you’re as beautiful as I do. I don’t like that.”

Steve props his chin on his palm and hides his grin behind his fingers. He reaches for your busy hand with his free one to get your attention. “Well, you know what?” he starts when your eyes flit up to his. “You’re the only one I want looking at me. So what everyone else thinks doesn’t really matter.”

“It is when they’re drooling all over you,” you answer with a scrunched nose.

Steve can’t help but scoff out a laugh. Those words have Robin Buckley written all over them.

“Last I heard, Rob was giving that girl what for, so… you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he tells you, both to soothe the misplaced jealousy and to make you smile. He thinks it only half works. “Can I tell you a secret?”

You perk up at that. Steve grins and leans in close like he’s about to confess something serious. His dark eyes twinkle with mischief.

“I’m so stupid in love with you that I forget other girls exist sometimes,” he murmurs in true secret-spilling fashion. “And when they’re… drooling all over me? I don’t even see it. ‘Cause all I’m thinking about is how I have my own girl back home. And that I’d much rather have her drooling on me.”

“…Am I the girl?” you press in a tiny voice, just to be sure.

“Yes, baby, I’m talking about you,” Steve chuckles. “You should know that— You’rethe one drooling on my pillow every morning.”

Your nose scrunches sheepishly. “You’ve said that word too many times… It doesn’t sound real anymore.”

“What’s that called again?”

“Semantic satiation,” you answer without missing a beat.

“Well, now I’m gonna tell you I love you ’til you’re semantically satiated,” the boy teases with a knowing squint in his eyes. “‘Cause I love you.”

“Steve.”

“I love you.”

“Stop,” you say, sterner now, though your gaze still glimmers with something soft. Your eyes follow his form when he rises from the table, shifting the short distance to sit in the chair closest to you. “Steve, stop—”

“I love you,” he repeats, anyway, taking you into his arms and smacking a dramatic kiss to your warm cheek. Between each innocuous peck, he mumbles, “I love you— I love you— I love you—”

Steve doesn’t stop kissing you until he hears you giggling again. The pretty sound brightens the dull breakroom. And all he can think about is what a lucky schmuck he is. To get to kiss you and make you laugh forever.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #st drabbles #stevie drabble

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alastorss · 2 months

Note

HIIII so i had an idea for like a reader that's crushing on alastor, and angel dust making jokes about it in front of alastor and basically what would happen once he catches on

Have a lovely day, get good sleep!!!<33 luv ur writing<33

a/n: hello sweets <3 thank you and i hope you like this!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Alastor has watched you splash your martini all over Angel's face so many times this week, he's almost certain the star is provoking you on purpose just for a free drink.

In the short time he's come to know him, he's learned that if there's one thing Angel Dust is good at—besides looking pretty on film—it's that he can be absolutely shameless.

Alastor remembers, with a twinge of disgust, that the spider had once told him he came with built in reins. That comment kept him seething for hours.

And now, poor you, having fallen into the trap of his intricate web—the Radio Demon would be laughing if he didn't actually feel slightly bad for you. He knows what it's like to be on the receiving end of those comments, after all.

You, unlike your four-armed friend, have a capacity for shame the likes of which have never been seen before. All hot cheeks and wide eyes, lips pulled into a straight, thin line—embarrassment burns in every corner of your expression.

Though, that's probably why Angel has taken such a liking to teasing you.

Here he is again, crawling over the bar to get into your face as soon as Alastor appears in the room. His voice is low and melodic, so quiet the Overlord can't quite make out the words until—

"Look, hun. Your prince charming!"

Alastor raises a brow as he takes his seat next to you at the bar, setting down his newspaper.

"What was that?" He asks, eyes flickering between you and a coy-looking Angel Dust.

"Oh, nothin'. That right, sugar?"

You look nothing but utterly defeated, martini forgotten and abandoned. "Angel..." you mutter in warning. The spider only shrugs and gives you a toothy little grin.

"Hey Smiles," Angel suddenly grabs you by the cheeks and turns your face to look in Alastor's direction. You only blink at each other in surprise. "Cute, eh?"

You quickly smack his hand away from you, swivelling around to glare. "Quit it!"

Angel puts his hands up in mock surrender. He huffs, backing off. "Okay, okay! Fine! You two are unbelievable."

With that, he stalks off to bother Husk instead. You sigh in relief, head hitting the bar counter. For a moment, you completely forget that Alastor is still sitting beside you.

"Care to explain?"

He watches as you nearly jolt out of your skin, amused at how flustered you are from a little teasing. It's rather cute.

"It's nothing!" You sputter, waving your arms around in panic.

But you can't fool Alastor. Not anymore.

It hadn't clicked before—that perhaps there was some merit behind Angel Dust's words. He had gotten so used to empty threats of sexual advances that he had ruled out the possibility that the star was being a little serious for once.

He wasn't exactly subtle, always jumping on the opportunity to make your cheeks burn whenever the Radio Demon was around.

"It didn't sound like nothing," he sings, leaning in closer to you so he can gauge your reaction.

As expected, you nearly leap away from him when he suddenly invades your personal space. He snickers.

"Not you too..." you groan.

"Why, I didn't know you had such a crush on me, darling~"

"You're the worst."

"Ah, and I suppose that's why our dear friend has been teasing you about me all this time? Because I'm the worst, and you hate me?"

He's getting entirely too close. His face is nearly touching yours.

You stare at him in bewilderment, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Finally, you manage to stammer out a weak retort.

"You should butt out of other people's business."

"It sounds like it's about to be my business, dear. You know, if you liked me so much, you could have just told me instead of Angel Dust."

"I preferred it when you were just a regular asshole, and not a cocky one!"

"Oh, how you wound me~"

"Shut up!"

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nervoussagittarius · 11 days

Text

hey, let’s not be alone tonight

matt sturniolo x reader

summary: matt introduces his girlfriend to the world through a video on his personal channel, request

warnings: extreme fluff, maybe some swearing who knows lol

matt sat in the driver seat of his car looking down at his lap. his face displayed a slightly distraught look as he glanced up into the camera.

“hi guys welcome backs to my personal channel…god i hate filming by myself.” he said with a sigh.

his gloomy look soon brightened into a smile as he stated “luckily i’m alone tonight” and turned the camera hoping both of you were in frame. you simultaneously laughed at his little bit before realizing that the camera was in fact very much crooked.

“hey matt,” you said pointing to the lens.

“oh fuck, let me fix it. hang on guys” he said holding a hand up to the camera in a “wait” motion .

matt quickly got out of the car making his way around to the front. he conducted you on which way to move the camera so both of you were evenly in the frame.

you tried to concentrate at the task at hand, but everytime you looked at matt for direction he made a funny face back at you, making you laugh.

“is that good? i can’t tell” you said calling to matt. he sent you a thumbs up in response, and made his way back to his seat.

matt and you were in sync as you looked at each other, then to the camera, and then back to each other.

“you ready?” he questioned reaching down to hold your hand over the center console.

“absolutely” you replied.

“guys, you were all wrong…. i’m coming clean and telling you that i’m still as single as i’ve ever been” matt said with a very serious look on his face.

“what?” you exclaimed with a slight giggle, looking at matt. he tried not to break character, but didn’t last very long as you poked his cheek getting him to smile.

“i’m just kidding,” he said “this is my girlfriend y/n. all of you have been speculating so we thought it was time to announce it.”

”you can talk you know” he chuckled softly squeezing your hand.

“i know, i just didn’t want to cut you off” you whispered, looking into his blue eyes as they softened at your statement.

“hi guys, i’m y/n” you finally repeat waving at the camera.

matt couldn’t take his eyes off of you. you looked so perfect sitting under the lights of his car. he didn’t want to pressure you into having to succumb to parts of his lifestyle, but your willingness to participate in a video with him made him love you even more.

matt was very private with his personal business. he didn’t like people speculating or starting rumors. for the longest time he didn’t want to expose you to the hate that came from his job, but he wanted nothing more then to be able to show you off to the world. you were everything to him and he wanted to celebrate that.

“matt..” you said softly, grabbing his attention. “do you want to tell them what we’re doing today?”

“oh yeah, so i was gonna make an instagram story asking you guys to ask us questions, but i couldn’t figure out how to do it, and then i realized it would spoil the suprise. so nick and chris wrote us a couple questions that they figured you’d want us to answer.”

you released your hand from matt’s with a giggle at his statement, picking up your drink. this caught his attention as he quickly grabbed your drink from you, putting it in your other hand, and grasped the left one back in his.

this made you give him a “really?” look but he just responded with a shrug and a brief kiss to your cheek.

“alrighty” he said dragging out the y. “we’re gonna start out simple and take turns answering questions. y/n is going to go first with the question ‘how did we meet?’”

you laughed, “so matt and i actually have different views on how me met, but nick cleared it up for us because he has a better memory of the situation.” matt jokingly rolled his eyes and he looked at you intently.

“i know that we originally met at a vintage thrift store when i had complimented nick on his shirt. i was wearing this vintage leather jacket and he loved it, so he wanted to show matt and chris. that’s actually when we met, but matt claims he wasn’t there for that, so to him we met at a small gathering one of our mutual friends had for their birthday.”

“i promise i was not there when you first met nick and chris”

“how did they get to that vintage store then matt? you drive them everywhere.” you broke out in laughter at the dumbfounded look on his face.

“okay you may have a point, but i’m still sticking to my original story.” he said passing you the phone to ask the next question.

“okay baby, whatever you say.” you patted his cheek as he once again rolled his eyes at you lovingly.

“how long have we been together?” you asked.

he pretended to think for a second before saying “seven months. literally the best days of my fucking life.”

“really?” you said looking up at him with a small smile on your face.

“of course. i love being with you”

you guys stared at eachother for a few seconds before you cleared your throat looking away with a slight blush on your face.

“okay, next question.” you got out quickly, not being able to make eye contact with matt.

you and matt have been together for a decent amount of time, yet he still manages to suprise you and make you nervous daily. he thinks it’s cute, but you find it a little frustrating. he loves seeing how he can still make you blush just by looking at you. it boosts his ego and tells him he’s doing something right.

“how do you manage a healthy relationship? i feel like nick and chris are asking this questions for themselves because neither of them can stay in a relationship” matt laughed.

“i think it’s all about how you communicate and developing a flow that will bind both of your lives without disrupting the previous routine.” you said through giggles.

“it’s definitely important to make time for each other, but you also have to make time for yourself. especially with matt’s job being very time consuming. we’ve done a lot of trial and error to figure out what’s best for us and our relationship. matt and i also have a rule that we can’t go to sleep mad at each other so it kinda forces us to figure our shit out.”

“i agree.” matt says looking at the camera giving them a slight head tilt. he leaned his head back on his seat turning to look at you.

“okay last question for the night. would we ever start a channel together?”

“do you want to answer this together?” matt asks. you nod.

“on three” you reply.

three counts are made before you both answer. “fuck no” “absolutely not”

the serious faces you’re both making are soon broken as you fall into eachother laughing. a few seconds pass before matt lifts his head first placing a kiss to your hair.

“listen, we’re not saying that y/n will never appear in a video again, but neither of us want the hassle or the constant publication of our relationship on the internet”

“yeah, we’re definitely not one of those couples.” you say with a smile, still leaning your head on matt’s shoulder.

matt finally released your hand, grabbing the camera off the dash. you took this time to take a sip of your drink as matt placed the focus on you.

“any last words for the viewers?”

“we love you all and i hope you’re prepared for matt’s constant talk about me, because nick and chris complain about it all the time.”

you grabbed the camera pointing it at matt.

“and what are your last words mr. matthew sturniolo?”

he looked over the camera to you and then back to the lens.

“let’s kiss the camera, babe” he said.

you both leaned forward to place a short peck on the camera lens. pulling back, you both laughed at the fog and matt wiped the lens clean as he ended the video.

“do you think they’ll like it?” you asked softly.

“i think they’ll love it because you’re perfect, and funny, and beautiful, and i love you.” matt rambled.

“i love you too, matt,” you smiled.

you took his hand, once again, as he started the short drive back to his house.

comments:

i’ve never seen two people more perfect for eachother

the fact that matt wouldn’t let go of her hand the entire time did something to me

i don’t blame y/n. i too would get nervous if i was in the presence of matt sturniolo

nick and chris being the biggest supporters of their relationship and making them questions is so cute.

i can’t wait to see all of the posts matt makes about y/n now

crying at how adorable they are

an: i’m in love with this one and them. i hope y’all enjoyed it as well🤍🤍

#matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo imagine #matt x reader #sturniolo fanfic

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sreidisms · 2 months

Note

Hey! I absolutely love your work, english is not my first lenguage so sorry for any grammar mistakes, but imagine season 1 Spencer and reader waking up after their first time, reader is all sleepy as she tries to find her clothes so Spencer is insecure if she regrets anything but she's like "baby, I'm only trying to find my panties, calm down"

I basically squealed when I read this! It's so cute and so reid <3 also no need to worry, I'm European so I know that being fluent in multiple languages isn't the easiest!

The Morning After

Insecure!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: you and your boyfriend Spencer have sex for the first time, but he wakes up the next morning asking if you regretted it.

Genre: slight angst, fluff, slight smut

Word Count: 1.1K

Warnings: mentions of genitalia, mentions of female reproductive system, kissing, 'baby' used as a pet name, insecurity from Spencer's end, reader is mentioned putting on Spencer's shirt but it's over-sized to make it more body inclusive.

A/N: This took me a couple of days to write out because I kept on changing the way the drabble evolved, so I hope it makes sense now 😭

The first thing you felt was the sensation of a super soft quilt draped over your body. You hummed and snuggled deeper underneath the warmth, squeezing your eyes tighter as you realised a sliver of sunshine had settled across your face. You hadn’t had this good of a rest in ages.

To lift the pressure off your right shoulder, you turned to the other side but hit something in the process. Your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. What the fuck?

With sleep still gluing your eyes shut, you slowly pried them open to be met with an unfamiliar form beside you. It took a while for your brain to adjust to your surroundings and register that oh, this wasn’t your bed, and oh, that was your boyfriend Spencer.

His usually gelled back hair was ruffled and the different strands were standing in different directions across his pillow and forehead. His signature pout adorned his lips, the one you often saw when you had sleepovers, which you thought was the definition of adorable. Spencer, like this, in his natural state, could have you staring at him in awe for hours. Your gaze followed the dip of his collarbone until it met his naked shoulder that was peeking from beneath the sheets.

And then it hit you. Last night you had slept together for the first time.

You could remember it clearly now: Spencer had invited you over to watch a film and have dinner together, because he had missed you so much. Cuddling had led to kissing, that to making out, and after some shared words of reassurance and consent, you somehow stumbled to the bedroom and got in each other’s pants.

Vivid images of fumbling hands and smooth skin flashed inside your head: the feeling of his weight against your body, his thin hips digging into your flesh as he gently rutted into you before picking up the speed, his breath fanning against your neck; the sound of skin against skin and the struggling moans and whimpers that originated from the man’s open mouth. You had shared all of it with Spencer and he had looked so beautiful while doing so.

You couldn’t resist reaching a hand over to cup his cheek, rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone. His brows further knotted together as he stirred in his sleep, leaning into your touch unknowingly.

After a few more strokes of your thumb, the boy’s eyes fluttered open, his pupils dilating as soon as he recognised you.

“Hi,” he smiled.

“Hi there, sleepyhead,” you whispered in return.

You leaned in to press a soft kiss on his nose and then a few more on his cheek. He giggled and scrunched his eyes and nose, melting into the affection that only you gave him.

“You slept well, darling?” you asked.

“Mmm, I always do when you’re here.”

After one more loving kiss on his plump lips, you shuffled out of bed in search of your missing underwear and a shirt to put on. All you could remember was throwing it into an unknown area, because your priorities were evidently somewhere else at the time.

It didn’t register in Spencer’s mind at first, but once he caught a glimpse of your bare ass and back, his eyes widened in shock. He fumbled under the sheets until he managed to sit against the headboard of his bed, looking downwards and realising yes, he was naked too. Naturally, memories from last night flooded his head: your lips on the sweaty skin of his neck, the softness of your entire body pressed against him in the most irresistible way, and most importantly, the way your cunt had engulfed him and it was so warm and wet. It made his cock twitch, but doubt overtook his thoughts, making the next words tumble out of his mouth like a reflex.

“Do you regret what we did … last night?”

His question pierced your ears and halted you mid-scavenger hunt. The choice of words - regret - concerned you, because you had enjoyed every single second of it. Did he regret it?

You turned around to face him, the worried wrinkles on your forehead appearing in an instant. “Regret? Of course not. Why is that worrying you?”

From where he was sitting, Spencer had a perfect view of your naked body. His eyes traced your shoulders, the swell of your breasts, the smoothness of your stomach and hips, not being subtle about it at all. He cleared his throat in an attempt to gather his thoughts, mind racing between insecurity and the very beautiful woman in front of him, one who he had no idea why chose him over all people.

“I- I don’t know …” He fumbled with his fingers and looked down at his lap. “You left the bed so quickly and I understand if you’re disgusted by me and you want to leave, I hope you didn’t feel pressured to have sex with me-”

“Spencer please,” you sighed, pressing the pads of your fingertips into your eyes and rubbing them. “I’m just trying to find my panties, baby, give me a second.”

He nodded timidly, scared he had said the wrong thing, chewing on his bottom lip with anxiety. You managed to find your underwear and slipped them on, hopping on one foot and then the other. Then, to simply satisfy the desire, you found Spencer’s over-sized Doctor Who t-shirt that had been abandoned and shrugged it onto your shoulders.

You padded across the wooden floorboards groggily and crawled back into your place on the bed, crossing your legs and sitting beside your doubt-ridden boyfriend. You tucked your forefinger under his chin, making him look at you.

“What’s going on in that smart brain of yours?”

The boy let out a chuckle that sounded more like a scoff, giving you a small glimpse of his gorgeous smile. “I thought you regretted what w-we did.” His cheeks tinged pink in embarrassment but also fear. What if you had just had sex with him because he wanted to? He couldn’t stand the thought.

You tilted your head to the side, gently holding his face in your hands and staring at him with pure love. “I loved every second of it, baby. I said yes because I wanted to, I really wanted to. I’m really glad you felt comfortable enough to share that moment with me, we created such a beautiful memory. I think what’s more important is if you enjoyed it, as it was your first time.”

Spencer smiled giddily, his cheeks getting redder. “I- I thoroughly enjoyed it.”

You grinned back, placing a kiss on his nose again. “That’s what I like to hear. And if it’s of any solace, you’ve got the prettiest body, love.” The comment hit him in the heart, the flush spreading downwards to his neck and chest.

You moved a hand to the nape of his neck, scratching the hair there. “I’d love to do it again.”

#writingreidisms #criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #mgg #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #mgg fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #mgg fluff #spencer reid x reader #mgg x reader #fem reader

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supernovafics · 2 months

Text

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 4.2k words

warnings: explicit language, fluff, smut (minors dni), fingering (f receiving), protected sex

summary: in which after a long drive back from denver, you and steve are back in your apartment and can finally lean into the fact that everything has changed

author's note: i told myself that i was gonna take at least a little break after the last thing i posted for this series/universe, but then i got this idea and i had to run with it because i have no self control lmao Anyways! hope yall enjoy this!<3333

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Winter 1986

The first thing you noticed was that his hair was damp from his shower, and the first thing he noticed was the pajamas you changed into after your own shower; a simple black tank top and a pair of shorts because it was really warm in the apartment for some reason.

You had initially come out of your bedroom to say a quick goodnight to him. It was almost eleven and after driving back home from Denver— a drive that actually felt a lot longer than the initial one— all you wanted to do was sleep for at least the next ten hours. You had especially been craving your bed at home during the final hour of the seventeen-hour car ride.

However, now you were looking at Steve and he was looking at you, and it seemed as if the current set of circumstances you were in hit you both all at once.

You were completely alone for the first time since things changed, since you both jumped into being something more with each other. You hadn’t even kissed since that first night— although you both had desperately wanted to— because the timing was never right. A movie night led to all of you falling asleep in the living room Saturday night, and then Sunday night mainly consisted of you all trying to get as much sleep as possible to prepare for the long drive back home.

Now it was Monday night and there was absolutely nothing bad about this timing. Even the exhaustion you’d felt before you took your shower and washed the entirety of the day away was long gone.

You joined Steve in the kitchen where he was drinking a glass of water. “Hi.”

“Hi,” He said as he set the glass down next to him and you leaned back against the counter across from him.

That short exchange was the extent of the conversation at that moment. You could’ve shifted it in absolutely any direction right then— mention picking Harold up from Dustin’s house tomorrow since he’d been taking care of the hamster for the past few days, or even randomly talk about how you two would be back in your Film & TV history class tomorrow and you’d forgotten to do the reading— but you didn’t want to say any of that.

After these last few days of pretending that everything was normal between you two around Robin and Eddie, it felt almost unbearably obvious what you both wanted to happen right here in this moment. But neither of you made any move to do it; maybe it was a little game of “who’d do something first?” that you two were unspokenly playing right then.

Your eyes flickered down to his lips for the briefest of moments and you could feel your cheeks warm at him taking in the entirety of your form; the simple tank top and pajama shorts you put on with the initial thought that you’d be going to sleep soon after you did— now sleep was the last thing on your mind. You suddenly felt so exposed, but at the same time, you didn’t really feel that shy under Steve’s gaze.

Still, though, you were feet away from each other, and neither of you took the plunge into finally acting on everything you’d wanted to for the last couple of days.

“This feels kinda weird, right?” You abruptly asked. “It’s the first time we’re entirely alone. And we actually don’t have to pretend that nothing has changed between us.”

“A little weird, yeah,” Steve answered as he finally stepped closer to you. “But, also, not really.”

He closed the entirety of the distance between you two and his hands found your hips. You could only smile up at him at first. The warmth from his touch made you inwardly sigh in contentment, and it made you want more.

“Actually, you’re right. This isn’t weird,” You decided with a quick shake of your head. “Just different. Good different.”

“Good different,” He agreed with a nod, smiling back at you.

One of his hands came up to softly cup your cheek and you instinctively leaned into him, letting your eyes slip shut as he dipped his head down toward you. Your noses brushed and his lips ghosted over yours just for a second. It was slow and teasing, and you knew that he was doing it on purpose, dragging out the moment that you both had been craving since the first time it happened in your bed at the cabin. And at first, you didn’t mind it— his lips pressing against the corner of your mouth and then against your other cheek and then your nose— you could see yourself wanting every single kiss you shared with him to be as drawn out and as sweet as this felt.

But then the anticipation became too much, and you were desperate to have his mouth against yours, so after his lips landed on your forehead, you whispered a soft and pleading, “Kiss me, Steve,” and you didn’t need to say it twice.

From there it was as if a flip was switched and there was no longer anything slow about this moment. His mouth was against yours and you hurriedly kissed him back, already reaching up to thread your fingers through the damp hair at the nape of his neck.

Just like it had that first night, this kiss felt so right and damn near perfect. You inwardly smiled and let out a happy hum against his lips, not wanting to pull away just yet although you could already feel yourself getting lightheaded.

You pushed yourself up on the countertop with the help of Steve’s hands on your waist, only detaching your lips from his for the briefest of moments to do so, and then you gripped the sides of his t-shirt to tug him closer to you. He was standing right in between your parted legs and your chests were flush against each other, but that still didn’t feel close enough to you.

There were probably a thousand things you wanted to say to him right then, mainly statements that would’ve started and ended with quietly muttered I love you’s. But, Steve fucking Harrington was a phenomenal kisser, and every thought you had in that moment seemed to vanish as soon as it came. He so easily turned you into a pile of want and need.

You were able to catch your breath when he pulled away from your lips and tilted your head upward so that he could kiss along your jaw and then move down to your neck. When he pressed his lips against a particularly sensitive part of your neck, it elicited a soft whimper from you, and you could feel him smile against your skin in response.

Steve pulled back to look at you, searching your face and seeing through you completely, he could probably easily read your current incoherent thoughts.

Even though he was the one pretty much doing everything right then, he still looked just as fucked out as you felt; flushed face and disheveled hair, you couldn’t even remember running your hands through it or pulling at it that much in the past few minutes. It felt nice to see the effect you had on him too.

One of his hands moved to your hip and started teasingly playing with the thin waistband of your shorts before slowly snaking its way inside of them. You sucked in a quick breath when his fingers made contact with the small wet patch at the front of your underwear.

You were absolutely soaked, that didn’t surprise you in the slightest, but you still couldn’t help but shyly turn your head and look away from him.

“You’re cute when you’re shy.”

You rolled your eyes and still avoided his gaze. “Shut up.”

Steve laughed at that. “Very, very cute, actually.”

You didn’t get a chance to say any sort of playful comeback to him because he started lightly teasing your clit through your underwear, which made everything you were about to say become lost on the tip of your tongue. His other hand moved to push the thin strap of your tank top off of your shoulder so that he could press a soft kiss against the skin there. Your brain was very close to completely short-circuiting, and you knew that he could tell that.

You were barely able to keep your eyes open, but you finally met his gaze again. Instead of looking even the slightest bit smug about how easily he was making you fold with everything that he was doing, even with the subtlest of touches, there was only the sweetest look written across his face and it made you want to combust. It still felt a bit insane to you that any of this was finally happening in the first place.

Steve’s hands hooked themselves into the waistband of your shorts and underwear. “Can I?”

“Please.” You were quick to nod at his question and were already lifting your hips a bit so that he could pull your bottoms off of you.

Your shorts and underwear were gone in one quick movement, hanging off your right ankle for barely a second before falling to the floor.

Steve gave you a look that was so full of lust and adoration that it made you feel flustered all over again. It was a look that had never been reserved for you. But, now, it was, and you knew that it always would be if everything stayed this way.

His fingers worked their way through your folds and teasingly traced up your slit. Your nervousness was immediately washed away when his middle finger slowly pushed into your entrance. The only thing falling from your lips was a quiet moan, and your hands found the edge of the counter and gripped tightly. Your eyes squeezed shut and you let out a louder moan when he added another finger inside of you.

It all too suddenly hit you that it was him doing this to you right then— way too easily turning you into an absolute mess on his fingers.

Your best friend. Your Steve.

The softest laugh fell from your lips at the abrupt thought.

“You okay?” He asked, and your eyes met his as you nodded because it was pretty much the only coherent thing you could do at that moment.

You leaned in to press a quick kiss against his lips, but then your brain was once again reminding you of what was happening and you abruptly let out another little giggle.

Steve gave you a curious look. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m okay, I’m good. And this is good too. Really, really good,” You assured him, somehow able to find your voice, even as his fingers continued their slow and steady movements inside of you. You let out a quick breath. “It’s just my mind keeps randomly reminding me that it’s you doing this right now, and that just seems so fucking surreal. Like, in a way, I kinda can’t believe this is happening. And none of what I just said probably even makes sense.” You let out another breath that turned into a moan. “Ah, but, anyway, I promise I’m so good right now. Really good.”

Steve only laughed at your rambling and then pressed a soft kiss against your lips.

His free hand found your hip again and he guided you to the edge of the counter so that he could hit a deeper angle with his fingers.

“Shit, fuck,” You breathed out at the new feeling. You couldn’t even feel embarrassed at how quickly he was bringing you to the precipice and how quickly you were about to fall over the cliff because you just felt so fucking good.

One of your hands let go of the counter and moved to find your clit; you just needed that little bit of extra pressure against the sensitive nub to fully send you over the edge. But, Steve was nudging your hand away before you could touch yourself so that he could do it instead. The pad of his thumb started stroking your clit almost too perfectly in quick circles and you had to bite your lip to keep from immediately screaming.

“M’gonna come,” You were probably moaning too loud at this point, but you didn’t care.

He kissed your cheek and then his mouth was right against your ear. “Go ahead. Come all over my fingers.”

His voice was low and could barely be heard over your moans and whimpers, but you still heard him perfectly. And with one particularly rough brush against your clit, you were squeezing tightly around his fingers and coming hard; heart pounding in your chest, ready to burst out of it completely, and seeing something equivalent to stars behind your shut eyes.

“Fuck, fuck, Steve,” You whispered, head tilting upward as he continued fingering you through your orgasm, trying to prolong it for as long as possible.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” He was smiling at you as you came down from your high and your bleary-eyed gaze met his.

In that moment, you could only smile back and slightly shake your head at him in response. Your brain was now a complete pile of mush, to say the least.

You let out a soft breath and leaned back, abruptly hitting your head against the cabinet behind you with a hard thud in the process. “Ouch.”

“Shit. Are you okay?” Steve asked as his hand came up to rub the back of your head and you leaned into his touch.

“Yeah,” You laughed a little. “I’m fine. It doesn’t really hurt.”

“You sure?”

“Mhm,” You nodded as your eyes traveled downward and you saw how noticeably hard he was beneath the navy blue basketball shorts he was wearing.

“Are you okay?” You asked, meeting his eyes again and smiling. You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you were reaching into his shorts and pushing past his boxers so that you could immediately wrap your hand around his length.

“Jesus Christ,” He muttered as his eyes slipped shut and you leaned in to kiss his neck. You stroked his cock in a soft and teasing way and could only smile at the strained “Fuck” he let out.

“Is that okay?” You asked, lips right against his ear.

“Perfect. Fucking perfect,” He answered in the quietest whisper before he dropped his forehead against your bare shoulder and then let out a soft chuckle against your skin.

“What?” You asked as you continued your slow movements.

“You were right,” He said, letting out a quick breath. “This does feel so surreal. But, really, really good.”

You laughed a bit. “Told you.”

After just a second, he pulled away from your shoulder and stopped your strokes by placing a hand on your wrist.

You tilted your head at him. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t wanna cum in my boxers. I need to be inside of you,” He said, and you immediately nodded at his words because there was actually nothing more you wanted than that too.

The next few moments moved in a quick kind of blur, and when you would later look back on this entire night, it would feel as if simply fingers were snapped and one moment was switched to the next. Steve was lifting you off of the counter and bringing you to his bedroom after your soft words of, “We can’t do it here because we’ve ruined the kitchen enough for one night.” You were simultaneously laughing and kissing his face as he led you to his room, arms circling the back of his neck to keep you steady.

He set you down at the foot of his bed and you moved upward. It wasn’t until your head was against his pillows and you were looking at him standing a few feet away from you that you noticed the difference between you two right then— he was still fully clothed, and all you had left on was your black tank top.

“This isn’t fair.”

“What?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows. “I’m basically naked, and you still have all of your clothes on.”

He nodded at your words and then peeled off his t-shirt and slipped out of his shorts so that he was just in his boxers. “Is that better?”

You nodded and smiled at him. “Mhm, much.”

Your head fell back against the pillows again and he simply stared at you for a few moments, eyes traveling from your bare legs all the way up to the small smile on your face.

“This slightly reminds me of that one game night we had at your house when we were sixteen.”

All you could do was laugh at the randomness of his words at first. “How can you possibly be reminded of Monopoly right now?”

“Not that night,” Steve said, laughing a little as he shook his head. He stepped into the bed and leaned over you, one hand brushing your side before settling on your bare hip. “The night when you invited some people from your school over too and someone suggested we all play strip poker.”

“Oh, that night,” You responded, quietly sighing in contentment at the feel of him tracing circles against your skin. You thought about the memory he was referring to. “That was the first time I saw you shirtless in a non-swimming or beach setting.”

He dipped down, nose brushing over yours before softly pecking your lips. “And that was the first time I ever saw you in just your bra and underwear.”

You playfully smiled up at him as you pushed a hand through his hair. “We really suck at poker.”

“Yeah,” He said, smiling back at you.

“And we both ended up making out with someone that wasn’t each other that night.” You weren’t entirely sure why you decided to bring that up when Steve was on top of you, settled between your parted legs with his boxer-covered hard-on pressing perfectly against your inner thigh.

You almost regretted saying it for fear of ruining “the mood,” but then he was laughing and kissing you again.

“And look at us now; finally making out with each other. Full circle moment.”

You smiled again. “I think we’re doing a lot more than just making out, but yes, very full circle.”

You started playing with the hem of your tank top and Steve helped pull it up and off of you. He tossed it somewhere on the floor and one of your hands found the back of his neck to bring him toward you in a needy kiss. He pulled away after a second and started kissing along your jaw and then moved down to your neck, leaving deep red marks against your skin that you knew would probably be annoying to attempt and hide from your friends later, but you couldn’t really find it in you to care about that right then. You were tugging harshly at his hair, which elicited the softest sounds from him, as you let out your own contented hums because of how much you adored having his mouth against you.

Everything felt so good right then, but it wasn’t enough.

“I need you. Please,” You told him, hips bucking upward so that you could feel something more and Steve groaned in your ear.

Your hands went to the waistband of his boxers, hurriedly trying to push them off of him. He moved away from you for a second, completely ridding himself of his boxers and then he started rummaging around in his nightstand drawer for a condom.

Before this moment— Steve seconds away from being inside of you— things felt unreal and in some ways a little funny because of how surreal it all was, but now it didn’t feel that way at all. He was the one person that knew almost everything about you and now you two were doing one of the few things that you actually didn’t know about each other. Surprisingly, that didn’t worry you in the slightest or make you feel scared, and maybe that said everything you needed it to. Things felt so real and so fucking right, and that made you smile.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked as he settled back on top of you.

“Nothing, really. I’m just so happy this is happening right now.”

“Me too,” He whispered before softly kissing your lips.

When he slowly entered you, every thought was wiped from your mind and all you could do was moan at the feeling of him filling you up so completely.

It was soft and sweet and everything in between. Steve moved slowly, pulling his length out of your dripping core until only the tip of him was inside of you before gently pushing back in.

He swallowed your moans and gasps with his lips, and you couldn’t help but close your eyes, savoring everything you were feeling at that moment, even though you wanted to hold his gaze.

“I love you,” He muttered against your warm cheek in between deep thrusts. He linked his fingers with yours and brought your intertwined hands over your head.

At first, all you could do was nod in response because your mind was so far gone, but then you were finding your voice and whispering the softest, “I love you too,” in the darkness of his bedroom.

Coherent words became lost from there, but with every haphazard and messy kiss that was shared between you two, everything was still conveyed.

The nearly pornographic sounds of skin slapping against skin along with your moans and his groans filled the quiet. You both were probably being way too loud, and maybe now was when your neighbors would start hating you two, but it was hard to feel bad about it right then.

Steve’s other hand suddenly firmly grabbed your hip so that he could push into you deeper, harder, which nearly sent you tumbling over the edge.

“I’m so close,” You heard yourself whispering, and you weren’t sure how the three words were even able to form on your tongue.

Steve’s hand moved away from your hip and started playing with your clit instead.

“Shit, yeah. Right there,” You said and he continued his steady movements, not letting up in the slightest.

Your orgasm hit you so abruptly, and you were coming around him with a loud cry before you could even realize it. How tightly you were squeezing his cock as you came only spurred on his own release. His forehead dropped against yours as he pushed as deep as he could inside of you and spilled into the condom.

Chest against chest, you found his lips in a slow kiss as you both came down from your highs and your collective breathing returned somewhat to normal.

The exhaustion from the day was finally catching up to you and you were close to falling asleep, eyes already falling shut, but Steve’s warmth leaving your body woke you up. He was slipping out of you with a low groan and then getting out of the bed to toss the condom in the garbage can that sat in the corner of his room. As he did that, you maneuvered around so that you were underneath the covers and he joined you.

Limbs became tangled beneath the blanket; his arms circling your waist to hold you close, your arms around his back and tracing mindless circles on his skin, and legs entangled. It was comfortable and perfect, and you were about to fall asleep just like that, but then an idea hit you.

Your eyes were shut and your face was buried in his neck. “We need to go on a first date.”

You felt Steve’s soft chuckle against the side of your head. “We’ve already said I love you and had sex. I think we’re far past the first date.”

“We have to do it,” You told him. “And we should make it super cheesy and dumb.”

“Fancy restaurant?” Steve asked, deciding to go along with the idea.

“Yes. And a movie too! Preferably, a very, very bad romcom,” You smiled into his neck. “Or, wait, actually I think a horror movie is much more first date appropriate.”

“Ah, yes, so I can put an arm around you and protect you from all of the scary scenes.”

“Yeah, exactly. Even though it will probably be me doing most of the protecting because I know how you get with scary movies,” You said, and then let out a laugh when he playfully poked your bare side. “Oh, and we should dress up really nice for it too. I expect to see you in a suit, Harrington.”

“Okay, well, in that case, you have to wear your prom dress,” He joked back.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, deal.”

Steve held you tighter against him, pressing the softest kiss against your forehead, and you fell asleep to the feel of his steady breaths fanning against the tip of your ear.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #stranger things imagine #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington series #stranger things angst #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things series

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ambiguouspuzuma · 10 months

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The single most important piece of writing advice I would give to a lot of amateur writers is to write less beautifully - or at least to write beautifully less.

I rarely find a piece of writing I can't read because it's too simple, or too concise and to-the-point - not memorable, perhaps, but also not a headache on a page. On the other hand, I see loads of pieces which are effectively unreadable because they're far too rich to swallow, and badly in need of watering down a bit.

The absolute worst culprit is the dialogue tags and stage directions. I'm a big fan of letting people write in their own style, but I would love it if a lot of writers could please cool it with letting me know every time a character blinks or licks their lips. I don't need to know that, especially if it happens every time they speak.

So many dialogue excerpts look like this:

"So this is how we talk?" he queried quietly, his eyebrows furrowed into knots. "Apparently," she replied with a puzzled grin, bouncing on the balls of her feet with restless energy. "Isn't that... exhausting?" he questioned, a lop-sided smile snaking its way across his lips. "The bouncing?" she asked shyly, her eyelids fluttering in shame. "No, of course not," he told her, his lean arms reached out to pull her closer. He buried his face into the mess of her hair, taking a deep breath of her perfume. "I just feel a little nauseated by all of these actions." "I don't know what you mean," she giggled, brushing the hair back out of her eyes as her cheeks flushed red. "Don't worry," he sighed, rolling his eyes up towards the ceiling.

I'm assuming this is a convention that comes from somewhere, given its ubiquity - perhaps somewhere in the world of fanfiction, where there will be short, intimate pieces entirely focused on the ways in which characters interact with each other. But to me, in an original work, it's so exhausting that I can't make it down the rest of the page.

Dialogue may be the worst, or most obvious offender, but the same principle extends pretty much everywhere else. Each line doesn't have to be some great quote you can hang on your wall, and it's hard to read a whole story written like that.

There's been some recent backlash on here against modern films where every line of dialogue is a quip, at the expense of building an authentic conversation, but that's how a lot of people start out writing - thinking that each sentence should be made as flowery as possible, when too many flowers in the same pot will crowd each other out.

You need to leave some gaps to let the sunlight in, and illuminate the beauty of the occasional flourish you do include. Think of it like vanilla extract, to make a reference that was topical when I started writing this post: you need to add a little for flavour, without which the writing will be too dull, but tip the bottle and I will actually be sick. Write beautifully less. Learn to embrace the prosaic.

#on writing #writing advice #writeblr

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inevesgf · 2 months

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ROULETTE⠀,⠀ george clarke.

synopsis ✩ you film a drinking video with george and the arthurs, which results in you waking up in george’s bed the morning.

warnings: smut, drinking, drunk sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (receiving), hair pulling, afab!reader. basically just really hot and heavy, desperate sex..

authors note: first smut i have wrote in awhileee… hope this satisfies all of you thirsty george girls and anon who requested this. xx

usually when arthur asked you to film a stupid drinking video for his channel , you declined — the idea of going to a random city to get drunk just didn’t seem fun to you. every time arthur hill, arthur and george went out to film one of those videos, they’d always try to coax you into coming. ‘it’ll be fun’ or ‘i’ll pay for your drinks’ just never seemed to work on you — except for this time.

the past few weeks had been rough for you and you desperately prayed for a pick me up. unfortunately, the pick me up the universe handed to you was in the form of arthur hill. with less begging than usual, he had finally persuaded you into being in one of his platform roulette videos. your only motivation to do this was really just to get out of the house. you knew you would stay in the slump you were in if you didn’t do something about it. obviously drinking was not a way to get out of a low point, but being around friends was — at least you weren’t drinking alone.

the night had concluded after an escape room, loud pub karaoke and lots and lots of drinks. you weren’t completely wasted; a slight buzz from the alcohol lingered on you. the mascara smeared lightly on your cheeks from sweating and the smell of guinness on your lips hinted at your intoxication to those near you. when the train pulled up to the station yourself, george and the arthur’s stumbled in, picking an area to nicely pack the four of you into. as george sat in the window seat, you slid in next to him, the warmth of his body next to yours keeping you warm from the cold uk air. arthur was completely trashed as he laid his head against the train window on the seat opposite of you — this action enough to get a laugh out of everyone. “are you okay, bud?” george chuckled, looking over at you drunkenly to share the laugh. arthur did not say anything, he just groaned, closing his eyes. the poor guy was miserable — after loosing a lot of forfeits he had had more drinks than anyone. it made you think about the consequences to your actions. you had fun that night, but the hangover that was sure to come to you the next morning cancelled that out. “dont remind me that i’m going to be absolutely dead tomorrow morning,” you spoke, “this is all your fault, arthur — if the hangover kills me tell everyone arthur did it.” george laughed at your words, lifting his arm up and slinging it around your shoulder. a blush crept onto your face, the alcohol making your thoughts drift somewhere they shouldn’t be. “maybe you spend the night at mine?” george’s words were unsure, the alcohol barely giving him and confidence. “i can take care of you.” there was something so sensual about the way he said it, making a pit of anxiety grow in your stomach.

you had spent most of the night eyeing george. there was something about him that evening; the way his hair laid messy on his head, his smile when he laughed at something funny; that was so captivating to you. even in your sober moments, you couldn’t help but admire him sometimes. the words he spoke sent a shiver down your spine and you could see arthur(tv) smirking in your direction — the words george spoke seemingly catching his attention. “if i won’t be a bother,” you were reluctant, which made george nod. “not at all — your company would be nice.” you shot a drunken smile over at him, a haze of tiredness coming over you as the alcohol caught up.

after a long day of being out with george and the arthurs, you had finally reached a place to relax. after parting with the others, you and george took your time walking to his flat, which was only a few blocks away from the station. upon entering his flat, you sighed, exhausted. george laughed at you, causing you to raise a brow in confusion. “you have mascara all over your cheeks.” as he spoke you recalled examining your face in a pub bathroom, smeared mascara under your eyes from sweating it off. “oops.” was all you muttered out, a small laugh escaping your lips as you did. “cmon,” george spoke, taking your hand as he pulled you away from the door, “lets get you cleaned up.” you held on to his hand reluctantly as he pulled you over to the bathroom. “sit up on the cabinet.” george smiled over at you as you tiredly entered the bathroom. you slowly pulled yourself onto the cabinet, letting your legs dangle over the edge. you swung your legs back and forth, patiently waiting as george stumbled into the other room. he entered back quickly, a small towel in his hand as he got it wet in the sink. “close your eyes.” george spoke as you closed them in response. he dabbed the wet towel on your cheeks, erasing the smeared mascara from them with a satisfied hum. the warmth of the towel on your face woke you up from your once sleepy state. “thank you.” a drunken smile plastered itself on your face. george smiled, locking his gaze onto you. time seemed to go by so slow and after long seconds passed you had gathered the silence around you. “are you okay, george? you’re awfully quiet.” all he could do in response was let out a nervous chuckle. “you’re just gorgeous,” his words made your heart beat fast in your chest, a pink flush bringing itself to your cheeks, “i know im drunk right now, but god.” george let out a loud breath, making your spine tingle as a smile crept onto your face.

before your brain could catch up with your actions; before you could stop yourself; you found yourself leaning into george’s touch. lips pressed together softly as you snaked your arms around george’s neck, letting yourself melt into him. without liquid courage, you knew you wouldn’t have the confidence to do this; this reality would linger as a fantasy in your head. george, without being intoxicated, would never had had the courage to let his lips dance against yours in return — in that moment all his anxiety faded away. you wrapped your legs around george’s waist, tugging him closer, his body now pressed up against the bathroom cabinet and between your legs. george allowed himself to deepen the kiss, letting his tongue tangle in yours as his arms found themselves around your waist. your heart pounded in your chest; the rhythm matching the slick kisses george laid upon your lips. you let your hands travel from george’s neck to his chest, tracing what you could feel of his abs through his tee. his breath hitched, interrupting the rhythm of your kiss before he resumed his once harmonic pattern on yours lips. george’s hands traveled from your waist to your thighs, letting himself massage them slightly as his lips escaped from yours. he placed his lips upon your neck, leaving small kisses which caused you to gasp as he found your sweet spot. george allowed himself to suck slightly at the spot, eliciting a soft moan from you as he was sure to leave a mark on your neck.

your hands traveled back up george body and to his hair, your fingers tangling in his light curls as you tugged a little from the pleasure. the action made george groan softly against your neck, giving him more courage to advance the moment. he pulled away slowly, letting his eyes lock onto yours again. placing his hands at the hem on your black dress, he spoke, this time his tone more husky — sexy — “may i?” an eager nod was what he earned from you as he began to roll up your dress, revealing himself to you in your underwear. george wasted no time before he put himself on to his knees, peppering kisses on your thighs which made you shutter. you ached under the fabric of your underwear, a thin layer only separating george and the area of you that craved him most. with a slow, teasing manner, george began to rid you of your underwear, placing them onto the side. you spread your legs slowly, revealing yourself to george in an eager, yet shy manner. you could tell george was as impatient as you were; his eyes studied your body conscientiously as rough breaths escaped his lips. george placed his head in between your thighs, his tongue licking onto your clit like it had danced along your tongue. you shuttered, a little whine escaping your lips as he let his tongue travel around your sensitive spots, sucking down onto your bud. a ragged moan escaped your lips, causing your toes to curl as shivers traveled up and down your body. george took his time teasing at your clit, letting his tongue run circles along it. it didn’t take long of george’s actions before you began to feel a clutter in your stomach, the high close as you arched your hips into george’s tongue. before you could finish, george removed his lips from your sweet spot, the loss of the feeling making your eager for more.

a pant escaped your lips as george returned his head up to your level, your slick glistening on his lips. you scanned george’s body, your interests peaking as you spotted the tent that had formed under his slacks. george missed his body on yours as he was quick to return it. placing his lips back onto yours, you hummed as you could feel the heat on his lips from your body. george’s hands traveled down to his belt, struggling to unfasten it as he left his lips locked on yours. once he had gotten it off, he rid himself of his slacks, allowing them to fall to the floor around his ankles. now feeling more comfortable in your state, you roamed your hands down to his boxers, letting your hands palm onto his hard on which elicited a moan from george. this action alerted george of how bad you wanted him; how much your sweet spot craved his attention again. george’s hands returned to the hem of your dress, breaking the kiss for a small second to slip it off over your head and on to the floor. you spread your legs again, revealing your wet core to george as he finally freed himself from his boxers. the tension between you two was heavy; george could barely contain himself from thrusting into you hardly. letting the tip of his cock tease against your folds, george lined himself up with you before slowly sliding in. a moan escaped your lips as you pulled george closer with your legs, letting his cock slip deeper into you as you did. again, your hands found yourself tangled in george’s hair, pulling at his curls as you physically begged for more. george thrusted into you almost rhythmically as his eyes studied your face, his lips laying a gap from pleasure. your head rolled back as you laid it against the mirror, sounds of delectation escaping your lips as he fucked into you. with each sloppy thrust, george’s pace grew faster, shooting the feeling of delight through your body. as one hand wrapped itself around your thigh, the others fingers found themselves on your clit, rubbing soft circles around your core. “does that feel good?” he breathed out, a teasing tone you had never heard from george spoke. you bit your lip, holding in loud moans as you nodded. “yes — so good.” you panted out, your mouth staying open in awe. you were overwhelmed with pleasure, soft whines escaping your lips as he payed focus to your clit. his thrusts grew disorganized, signaling he was coming to an end as his fingers danced faster against you. the familiar clutter found itself forming in your stomach again as you reached your high, tensing yourself around george as you finished. seconds later george found himself reaching that same high as he pulled out, decorating his cum along yours thighs. you took time to recollect yourself, fast breaths still escaping your lips as your skin glistened from sweat. george was dumbfounded, his lips still laid open, collecting the pleasure he had just ensued. coming down upon yours, george laid another kiss on your lips, making you feel cozy against his once desperate touch.

the next morning you woke up tangled in his sheets, no clothes, as you remembered the previous nights events more than you expected too. a sleepy, yet awake george laid next to you, a soft smile forming on his lips once he noticed you had woke. you returned the smile, greeting george with a ‘good morning’ as the sun pooled from the window, illuminating your face. “can we do that again sometime?” george spoke, last nights confidence still prominent. you let out a laugh, a reluctant one at that, “please.” was all you chuckled out as you let your body lay onto george’s. george placed his hand on your jaw, turning your head slightly to expose the side of your neck. a chuckle escaped his lips, “well, hope you can cover that up — we’ve gottta film today.” george winked, memories of the loving bruises he had left on your neck coming back to you. you were sure to relive this night with george again; your skin already missing the feeling of his on yours.

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saey707 · 6 months

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Paranoiac

✿ Prompt: You make a home video with Yone, Kayn, and Ezreal ✿

♡ champion focuses: yone, kayn, ezreal ♡ tw: HEAVY nsfw, vulgar language ♡ Female reader

Author's Note: I needed a break from all the requests and wanted to make something a tad more self-indulgent to help myself get out of writer's block/burnout ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ This piece is probably going to be my most NSFW work to date so please read at your own discretion!! Hope you guys enjoy! (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

It was your first time making a home video, and frankly, you weren't sure what to expect... At the very least, your three friends would be at your side to help you, and capture all the best angles! Well... To their best ability, of course...~

There were cameras pointing at you from 3 different angles, but only one of them was giving any good results...

The first was the camera in Kayn's hands, trembling between his shaky fingers. He would have been able to hold it steady, completely focused on you... If only you weren't about to give him the best fucking head of his life!

"Wrap those pretty lips around it, princess..." Kayn hastily huffed out. You were apprehensive about the idea of allowing Kayn to speak to you so obscenely... But at the same time, you fucking loved the desperate, raspy tones of his voice, encouraging you to let him fuck your mouth.

Kayn was standing before your sitting figure atop the bed. The camera stuttered as he moved his hand to roughly grab at your exposed breast, giving it a generous squeeze and massaging it between his fingers.

He soon after took hold of your chin, gently caressing your soft skin. His grip was firm to keep your eyes directed up and locked with his own. His cock was buried deep inside your mouth as you rocked your head back and forth, servicing his length.

A series of choked sobs and moans bumbled up from the back of your throat, the bad boy's attention fixed solely on you through his phone's cracked screen. Steadying himself, Kayn began to tangle his fingers through your hair, allowing his hips to rock in unison with that pretty, pretty mouth of yours.

"Ughhh, princess, that's it... Take all of my fucking cock inside that dirty mouth of yours~!"

Kayn would happily admit that he absolutely fucking loved seeing such a pained expression on your face. Was it because of him or the man you were romping up and down on...

"Agh~ Yes! Yes! Yes! You feel so good... Keep sucking~" Kayn begged, "Do you like how Yone's dick feels inside of you, princess? Huh? Do you want him to keep fucking you?"

"Mmmmhmphh~!!" You responded against Kayn's length, eliciting a quiet chuckle from the man beneath you.

"You're such a filthy fucking whore~" The producer spoke.

The second camera was, in fact, Yone's, partially capturing you bouncing up and down on his dick. His length was flushed red, slicked over with a film of precum, sliding in and out of you effortlessly as he slammed his hips up into your pussy, while you simultaneously sucked and bounced.

His free hand slid up and down your back, slapping your ass every time you went up and following it with a gentle rub. "Mm~ Your pussy feels so good, sweetheart..."

Pent up and unable to hold himself back any longer, Yone slid out of you, positioning the camera to capture a high-quality clip of him climaxing all over your backside. You gasped at the sudden hot, sticky sensation. Hell, you felt a little empty without Yone's dick pounding and filling you up... but were shut up almost immediately when you felt someone climb behind you.

"Knock yourself out, Ezreal~" Yone mumbled sleepily.

The final camera was Ezreal's, and he was all for assuring his section of the film had you and him in it. His arm was extended, capturing a selfie of you sucking off Kayn while he kissed your cheek. His chest was pressed against your back, sandwiching you between Kayn's cock in your mouth and Yone laying beneath the both of you.

"Come here, kitty kitty~ Smile for the camera... Uh huh~ Lift that ass up of yours for me… That's it!!"

Ezreal held your hips with his free hand, slowly pushing himself inside of your ass. The pain was almost unbearable. You never allowed anyone to take you there before! Still, Ezreal was gentle, allowing you to adjust to his size before he began to rock his hips.

Your arms gave out on you from the pressure, but that wasn't going to stop Ezreal. He positioned his camera against a pillow, letting it go so he could wrap his arms around you, holding you up in his strong embrace. "A-Ah~! Mmfph~ It feels so fucking good!" The pop star prince exclaimed while he fucked you.

It didn't take long for Yone to regain his sense of control, pulling your thighs back down so he could push himself back into your throbbing pussy. His fingers massaged your clitoris, amplifying your pleasure until you felt entirely numb. "Yone, you're going to make her pass out!" "Nonsense Ezreal, she's a good girl. She can take it!" "Hey, make sure you losers keep her clean! I want to fuck one of her holes next!!"

Every hole of yours was being generously filled, every camera capturing you being abused by three handsome men. And you loved it. You loved being used. You loved the way their cocks felt inside of you. You loved how they treated you like their little fuck toy... And you loved the way all three of them climaxed simultaneously inside of you!

Their savory moans drove you beyond the boundary, your eyes rolling back as you finally got your first fresh breath of air. Your body shivered, permitting them to move you like a ragdoll as they repositioned themselves differently.

You wanted more... No, you needed more~!

"Use her well, boys... Our next stop won't be until we're in the next country over!"

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ohbabydollie · 1 month

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omg so i’m new here but i currently have brainrot for 2 things

1) being a famous celebrity (sortaaaa like the famous streamer one but more famous) where ur like, an actress or model, things like that. and having a semi-public relationship with schlatt where you’ll be spotted holding hands on occasion, or on a red carpet but not really publicly discussing your relationship (even though everyone knows you’re together), and everyone is either super happy and ships the ever loving shit out of you, or they clown on you a bit and make “who’s punching up” videos and odd comments, and just not giving a fuck and being happy together but kinda wanting to be viewed like any other couple and not just another famous couple to be analyzed. (also similar to mutual break up but you don’t care about hate and stay together)

AND

2) schlatt made a joke about having his cock out in the latest chuckle sandwich episode and….. giving him head under his desk when he films….. for some things, like recordings where he’s not showing his face, it’s easy, but when he has his face out, it’s a bit more challenging. he has to restrain the urge to watch you and moan SOOO bad…. that’s all.

LMAO NONNIE THE FIRST ONE, I HAD TOO

okay, let’s say you’re a celebrity that is agreed by men, women, etc. to be absolutely stunning

so many people that love you, call you their wife, etc.

you are an absolute style icon, wearing pieces made for you to exclusive red carpet events

even people who hate you have to agree you’ve got a great style in clothes and makeup and yes, you’re iconic, at least a little

then somehow you make your way to the youtube community

people assume from you being so open and sweet and social is how you find yourself starring in a project directed by Ted Nivison

you’re so excited for it, interacting with other creators, etc.

Jschlatt knows of you, but thinks you’re probably like all those LA stuck up influencers that managed to make enough connections to get what you wanted

but when he has his first interaction with you on twitter??

he’s taking the chance to flirt with you publicly

in any way shape or form

and is so public about his crush on you to the point everyone is convinced he runs a stan account for you

you both do get closer behind the scenes but don’t tell much people about it

especially considering his jokes that people love taking seriously and out of context

you both are pretty secretive about it, super down low about it until the day he decides to pay for your nails

a small j is on the underside of your ring finger as to not show it off too much

it can’t even be seen unless it’s up close

then someone points it out on twitter in a selfie

you say it was dirt, but they know what they saw

then the paparazzi comes in and takes a photo that goes viral of you in sweats and a suspiciously familiar wilson hoodie

you say it a coincidence over and over again but the evidence is undeniable when you post multiple selfies in familiar hoodies that look just a little too large for you

small scratches and bite marks on your arms but you never mentioned getting a cat

then you appear in a chuckle sandwich interview

but the vibe is different in that video compared to the rest with guests

schlatt is polite??? and listening to you??

he looks at you with so much affection

yeah, your team does damage control and quickly

claiming that you’re currently single and focused on your career

then you fuck up on your own

a misclick on a story made for your close friends of you kissing your boyfriend’s cheek as he has the biggest smile ever plastered on his face

oh well, too late to deny anymore

so you don’t say anything until your next red carpet event where he’s essentially your accessory

like arm candy and dressed to match you

then everyone definitely knows

and let me tell you, some stans are sobbing

lots of “i waited 3 1/2 years, white man did it in one week” from fans and other celebrities

punching the air too

lots of crying and audios after they realize you’re dating him fr fr and not them

people definitely make memes out of it

goddess s/o and bf they probably found digging around in the trash and probably has rabies

yk that one meme of shining armor and princess cadence?

yeah, that + other attractive partner and their silly bf

so so so many of those “do you think we’re…in another universe?” slides

they clip any time he talks about you and use it for edits

editing characters you play with c! schlatt (it’s giving jack frost x elsa)

they love the two of you and seriously cannot get enough

but they really are punching the air when he marries you and when he gets you pregnant (if applicable)

#schlatt x reader #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x y/n #schlatt x y/n #schlatt x you #dollie yaps 🗣️#jschlatt hcs #jschlatt headcanons #jschlatt fluff #schlatt fluff

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oncomingnight · 6 months

Text

You're beautiful and I'm insane ๋࣭ ⭑˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

Pt. Two of Yandere! musician

Elias cannot fall asleep without you. If you wander away from bed due to you not being unable to sleep, he'll eventually wake up as he feels that you're no longer beside him, then, he quickly follows after you. He'll stay up as long as you need him to, he'll warm up some milk, heat up a packet of chamomile tea, or even cut up some vegetables and make you a bowl of warm soup to help lull you to sleep. Yes, he'd doing this because he deeply cares about you and wants you to be well rested, on the other hand, as I said, he just cannot and will not sleep without you.

He's got a weird sense of humor and it never fails to shine through. When someone he's not too fond of is speaking, he'll silently mock them and pull strange faces. There are too many videos of him on the internet comically eyeing the camera as an interview rambles on and asks him and his band mates odd questions. There have been many times where he's made you laugh to the point the apples of your cheeks are hurting and you're out of breath.

When you're sitting stageside and admiring your boyfriend absolutely ripping on his guitar, he's doing some admiring of his own. He'll repeatedly turn his head towards your direction, sending you a little wink along with a lovingly blown kiss. As soon as he gets off of stage, he's all over you as he whispers on about how much he adores you and how pretty you look in the dress he bought you. Oh, and now he's sneaking you off to his trailer behind the festival's stage. No one is surprised when you both come out of his trailer with him missing some patches of face & body paint meanwhile you're covered in a mixture of colors that rubbed off on you.

Elias enjoys wearing coordinated outfits and even outright matching outfits. He simply thinks its an adorable display of affection and it's a way to show others that he belongs to someone.

He has your name tattooed on his forearm in cursive, written in red ink.

He adores speaking about you to his friends, it's mostly him obsessively babbling & bragging about how perfect you are as a lover and how, soon, you're going to have a heavy diamond on your finger. An interviewer could ask him one simple question about you and he wouldn't stop rambling unless the interview was coming to an end, he loves you desperately, selfishly, and protectively.

Even if there were to be available seating near the two of you, he will always want you to sit on his lap. It's not for a sexual reason, it's more so because he finds it comforting when you put your weight on him

Elias has brutally beat people an inch of their life because they decided it'd be humorous to bother the peace in your life. Though, this doesn't mean he's only beat people. He's done much more gruesome actions towards people that he deemed as negative impacts on your life. He only ever does such things to protect you, his precious, sweet girl. If anything horrible were to happen to you, who knows what he'd do to not only the one who hurt you, but everyone else related to them.

He never lets a second go by without letting you know just how much you mean to him and his existence, he could never go on without you, he wouldn't want to. "No one could ever love me as much as you do and no one could ever love you as much as I do. Do you know what I'd do for you, baby? You've got me stuck, and 'm not complainin'"

He keeps a Polaroid picture of you in his black, leather wallet.

He adores filming you doing random things around your shared apartment, whether its you doing your hair, getting dressed, the two of you cuddling in bed, cooking a meal or baking him a batch of pastries. He also enjoys filming the two of you having sex, he'll prop up a camera on the vanity of your shared bedroom before he starts having his fun with you. He likes looking back on all of the videos he takes but especially the sexual ones, as he can re-experience your reactions and note down what you really liked.

Elias stands at a staggering height of 6'3, he towers over you and he leans down to be able to hear you better if you're in an extremely loud and packed area.

Spoiling you is something that Elias finds extreme happiness and pride in, he's the type of boyfriend to always be eager to grant your wishes in the most pleasant way possible.

He's always excited to introduce you to his favorite metal bands that helped paved the way to his musicality, his favored genre of film (horror) and video games he's fixated on for long periods of time.

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eideticmemory · 1 year

Text

WILDEST DREAMS | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

While directing a new film, Matthew becomes infatuated with you, the lead actress, and he’s having a hard time not making it obvious.

Word Count: 4k.

Warning/Includes: Age gap, pining, smut.

The best thing to do is be casual. Calm, collected, cool. You’re not doing anything wrong. In fact, you’re not really doing anything at all. It’s all in the walk - slow, steady strides - you don’t want to look too eager. Keep your head up high, only glance down for a moment at a time, keep your hands busy.

Play the part.

As your knuckles lightly rasp on the trailer door, you look around, fanning yourself with the stack of paper in your hand. When you turn back around, Matthew is opening the door and this grand, bright smile stretches across his entire face the moment he sees you.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hey,” you grin, tilting your head. “Wanted to go over something in the script with you. Do you have a second?”

Only taking a beief moment to look around the barren lot, Matthews eyes fall back on you, and there’s a certain spark in them as he says, “Of course. Of course, come in.”

“Thanks,” you tell him as you step inside.

And then the door is locked and the script is on the floor and you’re straddling his lap, your mouth open so he can stick his tongue inside of it. Your fingers tangle themselves in his curls, your nails scratching his scalp. He makes this soft purring noise, but his hold on your waist is tight, his nails digging through the fabric of your shirt and into your skin. With a roll of your hips, he’s left gasping for air and his hands begin to wander, trailing from your waist to your thigh. His fingertips creep towards the apex of your hips and you tighten them around his waist. It’s at this point that you grab onto his wrists and you’re well aware that he doesn’t have to let you pin them behind his head, he could easily stop you. If he wanted to. He doesn’t. He wants to do absolutely whatever you want.

Matthew’s head rolls back and you take the opportunity to plant gentle kisses on his neck. He wonders if you know how much friction you’re creating between your bodies, but then he feels your nails sink into the skin on his wrist, the vibration of a quiet moan against his neck, and he knows the answer. He has the impulse to touch you, but he’s weak underneath your body and he goes limp as your tongue traces his jaw.

“God, you’re killing me,” he mumbles.

You giggle, the sound echoing in his ear before you kiss his cheek, “So dramatic.”

“I’ll do anything,” he begs, and his breath catches in his throat, your nose nuzzled against his.

“Mhm...”

“Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Anything.”

Looking into his eyes, you slowly release your grip on his wrists and place your hands on his face, “Just kiss me,” you whisper. His arms wrap back around your waist and he does. He just kisses you.

By the end, when you’ve hopped off of his lap and begun applying your lipgloss, he’s watching you in a daze. His eyes scan over you from head to toe and it raises goosebumps on your skin.

“[y/n],” he calls.

“Mm-hmm?” you hum, checking your reflection.

“You know, I’m kinda in love with you, right?”

You burst into laughter and roll your eyes, “L. O. L.”

“Why is that funny?”

“You’re hilarious.”

“I’m so dead serious. We-we could do stuff.”

“Stuff? What kinda stuff?”

“Like,” he shrugs. “Maybe a little dating, a little marriage, some kids…something like that, I don’t know.”

“Mmm, but how would that look?” you ask, tilting your head at him.

“What do you mean?”

“It would look like I submitted my cooch as an audition tape and I didn’t. I dont want people to think this was a hand out. I earned it, right?”

“Of course,” he rises to his feet and steps towards you, “Of course. I would never-never wanna take away from that, I just-“

“And it’s the whole thing of it all, you know that. You’re the director, I’m the lead actress, plus you’re like, a senior citizen.”

He cackles, “That’s never bothered you before.”

“And I’m focused on this movie.”

“Oh, me too. Definitely, me too. Of course, me too…..you just, um…make it a little bit…harder.”

“Hm, I see that,” you smirk, glancing down at his crotch.

He laughs, his arms reaching out for you, his face nearing yours, and you put your hand to his chest. Push him away, “Chill. I just reapplied my lipgloss.”

He rolls his eyes as you pick up the script from the floor and flash him a smile. “Okay,�� you huff. “Back to work,” then you plant a kiss on your fingertips and mush your hand into Matthew’s cheek.

He tries to pull you in, but you slide your wrist out of his grasp and you’re gone.

Your costar - Sam - he’s cute. Okay, Sam is very cute. Sam is cute in a way that you thought they didn’t make men anymore. He’s pretty, but he doesn’t know it. He takes everyone else’s word for it. He’s kind, respectful, talks to you like a human being. There’s a spark between you two that is, truly, the core of creating a solid movie. It makes all the kissing and the touching much easier. Sam is a good guy. If your type were age appropriate, Sam would definitely be your type. You would totally fuck Sam.

But Matthew’s your type, if you’re being honest. You want to fuck Matthew. You want to fuck Matthew very, very much and that’s going to make this sex scene a lot harder. But for the sake of professionalism, you bite the inside of your cheek, ground yourself in the moment. Matthew makes eye contact with you from behind the camera and he gives you a quick wink. It gets your engine started, just enough so that when he calls “Action!” you close your eyes and think of him.

This is the longest three and a half minutes of Matthew’s life. It’s not suspicious that he’s watching you so closely, but the way he’s pinching the skin on his wrist is certainly not helping.

Fake sex with Sam is fun and you will certainly feel different about him afterwards. He moves against you in a certain way and you have to keep this euphoric look on your face for every camera angle and your brain is like well, alright then, maybe Sammy Boy is an option.

Then, Matthew yells. “Cut!”

And your body comes to a complete halt, your breathing returns to normal. You catch a glimpse of Matthew and your brain goes: Oh, yes. Him.

“You okay?” Sam asks you, keeping you at arms length.

“Yes,” you nod, giving him a genuine smile. “Yes. Are you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he nods. He holds out his hand and you both laugh as he gives you a firm handshake.

Cast and crew agree it was perfect straight shot and Matthew just approves with a thumbs up. You wonder if he’ll comment more but when he doesn’t, you just shrug it off, put on a robe, put your arm around Sam and walk off set with him.

When everyone starts to leave for the day, you walk past Matthew’s trailer and he pokes his head out the door, “Nice performance today, [y/n],” he waves.

You turn to him and laugh, “Thanks? Perv.”

“Why do you hurt me this way?”

“I’m going home. See you tomorrow,” you wave.

And as you walk away, he says, “I’ll be counting down the minutes,” and you have to keep going like you didn’t hear it.

It’s another 2 months before the movie is finished filming and the wrap party is that Friday. Matthew has been trying his best to keep some distance from you, but he finds himself texting you to find out if he’ll see you tonight. He’s tired of looking at you through a lense. It’s done, it’s over, it’s in post production. You don’t have to let his tongue in your mouth, but he hopes maybe he can hold your hand. Give you a hug.

Matthew’s not sure when you’ll arrive at the party until you’re there. You already have a beer in your hand and you’re grinning as you walk up to him. He takes you in this real tight side hug and you rest your head on his shoulder.

“You look nice,” he whispers in your ear.

“So do you,” you tell you. “I like this suit.”

He lets out a long sigh, “Thank you,” he chuckles. “Thank you, I thought you might.”

You hold his gaze for a moment and then seperate your bodies before you absolutely lose your mind.

You mix and mingle. You take pictures. A lot of pictures. You knock back a few drinks and by the time people have started clearing out, you’re cackling with Sam and other cast members out on the patio.

Matthew comes by to say goodnight to everyone and you all wave to him with a loud, collective “Bye!”

He goes around giving handshakes and hugs and when he gets to you, he leans down and wrap his arm around you. Your face nuzzles into his neck and he rubs your back softly. When he releases you, you can still smell him.

“Bye, [y/n],” he smiles and you can tell he wants to touch your face. But he doesn’t.

He leaves and you can still smell his minutes later. You take a deep breath, tell everyone you’re going to the bathroom, get up, and once you’re sure no one can see you, you run.

You catch Matthew as he’s hoping in his car and you call out his name. His heart stops and he turns to you, jaw dropped just slightly. “Hi, gorgeous.”

You chuckle under your breath, “Hi.”

Your face feels hot and tense, like you’re trying to keep yourself from grinning too much. “Can I have a ride?” you ask.

He not only drives you home, but he lets you control the music. He regrets the decision immediately.

“Don’t be such a grandpa!” you scold him.

“I’m-I’m not! I just don’t understand why it’s so…loud? And angry! Oh, my god…”

“Yeah.”

“I do sound like a grandpa.”

“Yeah,” you laugh, throwing your head back. “But I’m into it.”

He blushes, bites down on his lip, “What’d you think of Link’s speech? Too sappy, right?”

“It wasn’t until he cried.”

Matthew laughs, “Yeah, he’s a softie, but this movie is his baby.”

“Yours too, kinda.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I can’t believe filming is already over.”

“Gonna miss me?”

“Fuck, [y/n]…come on, I miss you all the time. I’m kinda in love with you, remember?”

You roll your eyes, shake your head, “Over here. On the left.”

He turns into your parking deck and you unbuckle your seatbelt. You reach over his body, your knees tucked in the seat as you type in your passcode. Matthew’s eyes are wide and his hands are limp on the steering wheel. His eyes linger on your waist and your thighs. The gate opens and you plop back down in your seat and he drives off like nothing happened. He parks in a corner near the elevator and you look over at him, “Thank you.”

“Of course. Anytime. Anything-Anything you need.”

You smile at him.

“Y’know,” he says. “You can call me. You can text me and we can see each other, outside of press stuff and stuff. If you ever just-just wanna talk. I’m here, I’m here for that, for anything.”

You nod your head at him, slowly, your eyes scanning him up and down, lingering on his shaky hands. You lean over and unbuckle his seat belt. Confused he lets it slide off of his body and he follows your lead as you grab his opposite wrist and pull it towards you. You lean back in your seat and pull your dress over your thighs. You pull back your lace underwear and stick Matthew’s hand in it.

“Oh.” he says.

You arch your back, just slightly, his fingertips grazing your clit.

“What-what do I do?” Matthew asks.

You shrug, look up at him with dreary eyes, “Whatever feels right, I guess.”

And he moves his body closer to you, lowers his hand in your panties and rubs your clit. Soft, slow circles that make your eyes flutter shut. You spread your legs as far as they’ll go and he dips a finger inside of you, swims around in the flood. You grip onto the edge of your seat and Matthew touches the tip of his nose to yours. As he catches you in a kiss, his fingers slide into you and you can feel every inch. They curl in towards your belly and you whine against his lips, grinding your hips against his palm.

Matthew’s thumb pops into your mouth, his forehead pressed against yours, his wrist moving to match the rhythm of your hips. Choking on your moans, you widen your mouth, letting him slide two fingers towards the back of your throat. You can feel him watching you, but with every movement of his fingers, you’re nearing the brink and you can barely function.

He pinches your face between his fingers, covering your cheeks in your own saliva. Your groans echo around the small space, breaking up into choppy cries as Matthew increases his force, pushing his fingers as deep as they’ll go. You grip onto both of his wrists and whimper through gritted teeth, your thighs tightening around his hand.

“Fuck,” you gasp. “Oh, fuck!”

With his hand around your throat, Matthew makes you come so hard that you’re entire body spasms, your hips riding it out on his hand until you go completely weak.

“Oh, look at you,” he whispers, his voice soft and dreamy as he pushes your hair back, touches your face. He pulls his fingers out of you and sucks on them, moaning at the taste of you. You grab onto his arm and dazedly begin to nibble on his forearm. At certain points near his elbow, you sink your teeth in really deep, taking a moment to feel his skin in your mouth. The pain makes him gasp underneath his breath, but he doesn’t mind. He likes the view. You take three of his fingers in your mouth and moan as they hit the back of your throat.

Matthew hooks on by your bottom teeth, leans in and tells you, “If you want me, I’m right here…I’m right here…”

And you fix your panties, fix your dress, gives him one last kiss on the knuckles. “Thanks for the ride.”

He nods, “Anything for you. Anything.”

When the movie premiere, everyone is anxious. Everyone. No one is exempt. There are, however, those that handle it better than others. You, being those, and Matthew, being others. When he sees you, standing there in your pretty dress, looking like an angel, he rushes over to you and takes you into a hug.

“Oh,” you whisper, chuckling, “Oh, Matthew.”

“I’m about to piss myself.”

“Please don’t.”

“How are you not freaking out right now?” he asks, holding you under his arm as he looks at you.

“Someone’s gotta stay calm so you can freak out.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Oh don’t do this-“ you roll your eyes.

“When you fell from heaven?”

“I need to walk the carpet, you do, too. C’mon.” And you hold his hand.

He can’t believe it, you hold his hand!

There’s all sorts of mixing and matching that goes into the photos. You take a lot with Sam, a handful with the rest of the cast and only a few with Matthew and the rest of the crew. The energy is high and light. The interviews are positive and everyone is smiling.

You sit, you hope, you pray that this is the tone for the rest of the night.

And then the movie ends with a standing ovation.

And the energy gets even higher. You are a star. People clamor around you and Sam like royalty and you guys humbly accept it all. You ride back to the hotel with Sam and a few others, a bottle of champagne and music blasting through the speakers.

“[y/n]!” Sam calls as you part ways. “More drinks in the lobby?”

“For sure! I’m going to change into more celebrity casual, I’ll be right there!”

He laughs and waves as you head up the elevator.

You step into your hotel room and drop the key on the kitchenette counter. You stand in the center, just underneath the big, bright chandelier. And you dance. You jump. Your cheer. You nearly fall to yours knees and then there’s a knock on the door.

You skip over and open it to find Matthew, a big smile on his face and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You don’t even think about it, you just jump into his arms and the two of your erupt into joyous laughter. He carries you into your room, lets the door shut behind you and places your flowers down.

“The times. The post!” he exclaims. “Everyone is talking about you.”

“Shut up,” you shake your head, your hands pressed to his chest.

“No, you shut up!” he embraces you, laughing as he says, “They like you! They really, really like you!” He looks down at you, your eyes laced with happy tears, and he pushes your hair back. “I…” he whispers. “Really, really like you.”

You smile at him, reach up and run your hands through his curls. You nuzzle your body into his and your eyelids get heavy as you breathe him in. You lift yourself up on the tip of your toes and give him a kiss. Then another kiss. Then another. And you drive yourself into him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pushing your tongue into his mouth. You back him up against a wall and he gasps, “[y/n]-mm…oh, god…” he hands wanders around your body, gripping onto your ass. “What are you doing?”

You moan, throw your head back, “Just-fuck-take this dress off of me,” you order, holding his face in your hands as you peck at his lips.

“Okay, okay, okay,” he whispers. “Slower…” he tells you. His fingers push the spaghetti straps off of your shoulders and he gives you a nice, long kiss, “Slower, slower…”

You let him steadily roll the straps down your arms, feel the curves of your body as he pushes the dress past your hips. Leaving you in just your bra and panties, he takes you in his arms and loses his breath between your mouths.

He sweeps you up in his arms and your legs wrap around his torso. He drops you onto the bed and you chuckle as you bounce in the air. He leans over and you help him take his jacket off, throw it onto the floor. As he gives you a sloppy kiss, you unbutton his shirt, feels around his chest. He unhooks your bra and pulls it off, his tongue wet all over your jaw and collar and chest.

Matthews lips wrap around your nipple and your head rolls back, your hands tangled in his hair. He leaves a slimy trail down your stomach and looks up at you as he slides your panties down your legs.

“Oh, my god…” he whispers. He looks down at you, touching you all over, flat, warm, open palms on your breasts and ribs. “You’re so beautiful. So, so beautiful,” and he falls to his knees. He holds your legs open and starts to eat you off. Soft, slow, with a strong hold on your thighs. He buries his face between your legs and laps at you like he’s dehydrated.

You purr, pull at his hair, arch your back as you grind against his face. The noises you make come out jumbled and strained and Matthew can’t get enough. He hums against you, speeding up his tongue to bring you to the edge. You squeal and you squirm, but Matthew keeps you locked in place. You grip onto his arms, digging your nails into the flesh. You mutter soft, stuttering profanities, your throat raw from all the noise.

When you come, Matthew is moaning, loving the way your hold tightens around his face and your hands tug at his hair. As he returns to kiss you, you push his shirt off of his body and undo his pants. With his pants and boxers kicked off, he just falls straight into you and it’s like the whole earth shakes. You cry out, wrapping your arms around him. He breathes shakily into your ear, his hands getting under your thighs, pushing your knees to your chest.

The bed rocks back and forth as he pounds you, his eyes trained on you, your moans loud enough to shatter glass. You are absolutely everything he ever imagined you to be and more. So, so much more. You wrap around his dick in just the right way and his head falls back, his mouth falls open and his says your name on this broken, breathy loop. “[y/n], [y/n], oh, fuck, [y/n], baby.”

He watches you rub your clit in fast, hard circles, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. He moves into you harder, faster, leaning in so he can hear your moans in his ear. You grip onto his shoulder and then his hair and then his throat and he peers into your eyes. He’s trying to hold on, to savor the moment, to keep you here. Just like this. But your thumb runs over his cheekbone and he breaks down and his face softens and he dissipates into these weak whimpers.

“Y-you going to come, baby?” he asks you, feeling your thighs twitch and tighten against his body.

“Y-yes,” you moan. “Fuck, yes.”

He kisses you, grunting against your lips as he uses his body to carve you out like marble, folding you in half, thrusting himself as deep as he can because he can tell how much you love it.

“C’mon, [y/n], come for me,” he groans in your ear. “Please, please, please, please.”

Your fingers work tirelessly on your clit and with one good move inside of you, you crumble. You pull Matthew close, spread your legs and let him fuck you through it. He’s talking to you, he’s telling you that you’re amazing, that you’re incredible, beautiful, sexy and you’re screaming too loud to hear any of it.

He had been waiting for you to let himself go and he stares at you the entire time he comes. You moan as you feel it splatter all over your stomach, your chest. You chuckle, wiping some off with your finger and popping the digit into your mouth, “Oh, fuck.”

Matthew laughs and crashes on top of you, holding your face as he kisses you. “Come on,” he orders, hopping up.

“Huh?”

“I’m taking you on a date.”

“Right now?” you prop yourself up. “You don’t think we’re going in the wrong order here?”

“Oh, duh, right,” he says and suddenly he picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder. “We’ve gotta shower first.”

And as you laugh on the way to the bathroom, Matthew squeezes you real tight. Real, real tight, thinking:

Finally.

#mine #mgg #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler fic #matthew gray gubler smut #Spotify

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spicycinnabun · 2 months

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pt. 1 2 3 4 5 7 💐

Later that night, when Eddie showed Wayne the flowers for Kathleen, Wayne’s face cycled through a variety of expressions, none of which Eddie understood until he went over to a large gift bag that was sitting on the Lay-Z-Boy.

Wayne opened it, revealing a huge bouquet of about forty roses he had bought that morning. It was absolutely breathtaking, and that meant only one thing: he had gone to Harrington Floral.

“Awww, Uncle Wayne, you big ‘ol romantic!” Eddie grinned, clasping his hands over his heart. It made him happy to see his uncle—usually so cantankerous—head over heels.

“You be quiet now, boy,” Wayne said. His ears were turning the same color as the roses.

Eddie would do no such thing. “I will do no such thing.”

“Brat.”

Giving Kathleen two bouquets seemed silly, so Eddie put his in a tall glass of water and set it on the windowsill to admire.

He was secretly pleased that he got to keep the flowers. It was almost like they were meant for him instead.

He could pretend.

~🌹~

Kathleen was a wonderful woman, and Eddie really liked her.

She was the complete opposite of his uncle, but their differences complimented each other, and Wayne hadn’t stopped smiling the entire night. Eddie had never seen him so animated.

The roses made Kathleen cry, horrifying them, but she assured them they were happy tears. She said nobody had ever gotten her flowers before.

“Expect many more, Kathy,” Wayne said, looking a little heartbroken by the admission.

Eddie looked down at his feet because, hell, this was too much for his little black heart to handle.

Then Wayne got down on one knee and pulled out a ring, just like Steve had predicted, and Eddie couldn’t stop the waterworks when Kathleen said yes.

Wayne actually picked her up and spun her around like they were in a ‘50s romance film.

“Congratulations,” Eddie said, laughing through tears. He tried to hide them, overcome and unused to the emotional onslaught of a good thing.

Wayne hugged him and ruffled his hair like he used to do when Eddie was a kid.

“I’m going to take very good care of your uncle,” Kathleen reassured him.

It was unnecessary, but Eddie appreciated the gesture.

They talked late into the night, swapping stories. Wayne told Kathleen all of Eddie’s embarrassing childhood moments, like when he’d accidentally shaved one of his eyebrows off and glued on a pipe cleaner to replace it.

Eddie retaliated by telling Kathleen about the time they had gone to a department store when he was seven, and Wayne had thought one of the mannequins was a real person and had asked it for directions to the little boys' clothing section.

Kathleen cried again—that time, from laughing so hard.

~🌹~

Eddie ended up calling the number from the ad the next day.

He waited with the phone caught between his cheek and shoulder, twirling his spoon in his bowl of Franken Berry.

Someone picked up on the fifth ring. “Hello?”

It was a man. He had a friendly and almost… nasally voice.

“Uh, hi. I’m calling about the ad you placed outside Starcourt Mall. Are you still looking for a roommate, by chance?” Eddie let go of his spoon to cross his fingers. It clinked against the side of his bowl.

There was silence, then a sneeze on the other end of the line and a heartfelt curse.

Eddie glanced suspiciously at the bouquet on the windowsill above the dull green sink. The sun was reflecting against the glass and making it sparkle, the flowers looking bright and cheerful.

He could have been wrong, but that sneeze sounded nearly identical to the ones he’d heard yesterday.

“…Steve?”

🌷🪻🌻🌹

co-writing this with @batty4steddie 💕

#fic #wybmb #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #stranger things #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie au #steddie fic #florist au #florist!steve harrington #i’ve eddited this about a hundred times #it’s time to just release it to the wild #enjoy the sap #💐

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

Text

juicy • r. braun

no thots, just pornstar reiner and his love of baby oil.

content warning: plus size!black reader, bulging, cumshot, baby oil, reader wearing heels, backshots, twerking, reiner talking so dirty, squirting, reader wearing plug, reiner wearing cxck ring, spit play, recording/filming, mentions of oral sex, short drabble, use of daddy, this is porn without plot tbh, self indulge bc aren’t all my reiner fics atp (I’m so sick of ovulation week lmao), minors, please get the absolute fuck away from my page.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰───────✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰

“Leave it right there..stay just like that, baby. Goddamn.”

“Mmm..Rei, hurry up, pleaseeee. Need that dick in me..”

the words leaving Reiner’s mouth in a disgruntled huff and yours in pure frustration as he shuffled over to the other side of the spacious bedroom. Shrouded in dim illumination and a ring light pointed directly at the bed. Sheets crumpled and damn near disheveled from the mattress. All a direct result of the rough love making that had been transpiring and nowhere near its conclusion.

starting when your boyfriend decided to bring you home from dinner and get his fill of dessert by hoisting you to face level and eating your pussy mid-air once he got you back home. Those fresh, pastel pink coffin tips shuffling through his dirty blonde locks as he licked in and out of every one of those silky folds. Sucking, lapping..so greedily. Only to be followed by him setting you atop his face and letting you bounce that ass on it. Riding his tongue like it was the last thing you’d do and needless to say, he couldn’t get enough. Drenching the corners of his mouth and chin in that sweet stickiness. When you brought up the fact that you could possibly be too heavy, he’d slap your ass so hard that it rippled and told you to keep grinding on his tongue until he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t give a damn how much you howled, yelped and moaned, he merely told you to ride his face until he felt letting you up; giving you heavy handed smacks on those big, round cheeks as a form of encouragement. Which resulted in you coming twice. Now here you were sprawled out..sporting nothing more than a pair of strappy black heels and a wide smile as you awaited his next move.

dating a part time pornstar was not for the weak. This man had stamina for miles on end and he was putting it and you to the test tonight. With his next order of business being to douse that sexy body in baby oil, which had been on his mind heavily. Seeing your soft, delicate, dark skin drenched in the silky, clear liquid as he fucked you relentlessly was just one of the many things he had wanted to do with you.

“Don’t worry, sugar. I won’t keep you waitin’ long but I need you to do something f’r me real quick..' ' walking back over with the tiny bottle and the cap flipped open as he crawled onto the bed to join you once more. Opposite palm stroking that thick cock, studded with a silver ring at the base..which only made those balls more swollen and that red tip far more sensitive. All the more reason to drain him dry, in your opinion! With that back arched, sitting on your hands and knees, you’d toss your head back along with those thirty inches of hair that he had so happily paid for. “Mmm…anything you want, daddy. What is it?” Licking your lips in a salacious manner, so much so, you’d have him twitching and jumping. “Do that little trick from earlier. Let me see that ass move.” Needing a front facing, up close view and you of course, did not disappoint. Glancing directly at him, (y/n) began throwing that ass back, sticking your tongue out and making it clap for his viewing pleasure. “Oh? You mean this?” Letting those cheeks collide in a thunderous haze that had your man mesmerized. Stealing glances of that heart shaped pink plug residing between them. While you did so, he made haste in covering every square inch of you in that fluid and let it contrast with that beautiful skin tone. Oh, how he loved watching you in action..almost as if it were moving in slow motion. Meanwhile, it dripped down your body like honey from its comb.

his palms working it onto your flesh; from those thick thighs, pudgy tummy, plump pussy lips and of course, that ass as it moved. He’d even reach around, tugging you up to coat those tits, pinching your nipples in the process.

“Yesss, fuck yes, baby. Thaaaat’s the one. My nasty girl..I love it. I swear that never gets old..” his voice dropped to a low growl as he caressed you all over and even gave you a couple more slaps, encouraging you even more. “Show off for the camera, sweetheart. Let all of these folks see how fucking sexy you are.” And he didn’t have to tell you twice. You’d do exactly as he asked..knowing it didn’t take much to awake that slutty side anyways. Both of you, polar opposites from the professionals at your corporate day job. That tight entrance; frothing and begging to be filled up. Suddenly, you’d feel his large hands grasp the curvature of your spine, pulling you towards him for his pelvis to mesh with your bottom. Giving you backshots was undoubtedly his favorite, probably right next to letting you get on top and ride him to kingdom come. Especially when you wrap that smaller hand around his throat and let saliva drip down onto his tongue. He was one hell of a problem on his lonesome but something about having you as his co-star made Reiner’s inner freak come out full blown. “God…I can’t wait to see you do that with me inside of ya’..bouncing on that fucking dick, baby..just take it..take it deep, baby..” his whiskey smooth southern drawl ringing out in your ear; giving both you and anyone else listening a sensation between your thighs that couldn’t be contained. Once he finished covering you from chest to toe, he was ready for the next step and that was to knock your shit out of the frame.

under the glow of the ring and phone lights, he’d let your bodies collide and meet in a series of thunderous backshots..one right after the next and being better than the last. Reiner started out a little slow, trying to let you readjust to the rhythm; but once he saw how eager you were to catch it, he had no problem throwing dick your way! Bringing you back against him with all his force, he’d buck his hips forward, and keep drilling until he invoked a milky sheet of arousal from that pretty pussy. Those heavy balls colliding with your clit and smacking with your entrance. “Right there, Rei! Fuck me.. fuck this pussy, daddy..” when you begged so nicely, he couldn’t help but to fulfill your request. Especially when that glossy liquid glistening on your skin; the plump fat of that ass looking even more mesmerizing than normal with..brighter than any diamonds ever could. You were picture perfect and the most beautiful sight he had ever witnessed. Wanting to fuck on you all the time, whether or not his audience was watching. Picking up the bottle once more while burying himself to the hilt between your folds, Reiner let out another chuckle, profusely chewing at his bottom lip before tugging you towards him with a hand on your throat;

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m staying in it all night..you just keep fucking me back.”

and of course, letting him cover you in that baby oil.

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hollybell51 · 9 months

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If I don't have you

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Ethan Hunt x AFAB!Reader

Mission Impossible (around MI3)

Word count: 6.6K

Summary: your mind won't let go of a close call, or all the things that remain unsaid between you and Ethan.

Content: gratuitous smut, angst, light blood/wounds (canon typical), swearing, angst with a happy ending, some mildly dubious moments (ie., sneaking into people's beds), but there's explicit consent so dw about that. Friends to lovers, first kisses (like between people), oral (f receiving), handjobs, making out, missionary, unprotected sex, bit of dirty talk, sappy love confessions (I'm a sap myself, give me a break). I think that's it but let me know if I missed anything.

Notes: hey guys I'm back with another terrible title and porn nobody asked for! I've recently been consumed by Mission Impossible and was devastated by the lack of Ethan Hunt content, and I may or may not be starting down the Tom Cruise rabbit hole, so I did the natural thing and wrote some good old smut. This man makes me absolutely feral in every film (sixty fucking one and he's still got it! What the fuck!) but the long hair really gets me (you all know this already) so I chose to go with somewhere around the MI3 mark. I'm also somehow convinced that he just gets hotter with each film but that's another issue.

Mandatory disclaimer, I don't really care what Tom Cruise does in his own free time with his money and energy but I personally don't fuck with scientology, so yeah. Anyways, enjoy!

The door to the hotel room banged shut behind you, loud and sudden in the cool stillness of the evening. Your face felt hot, and not just because of the heat outside or the fact that you’d just effectively undertaken a high-speed parkour course, blood rushing in your ears, heart pounding.

“What the hell, Ethan?” you hissed as you spun to face him, jerking your arm out of his grip.

He ignored you, stepping closer in the narrow entryway. “Are you hurt?”

Were you hurt? God, it never failed to amaze you just how little regard this man had for his own safety. First he’d quite literally jumped off the roof of a building (albeit a low building, and he’d slid down the tented roof of one of the market stalls first), then raced head-first into what had nearly ended up an all-out fire fight, despite you and Luther both yelling across the comms at him to stop, go around and cut them off! Unsurprisingly, he hadn’t listened.

“That was fucking insane!” you burst.

“Are you ok?”

You were being pursued, first at a walk and then a run. Ethan had seen, you’d told him and Luther both over the comms, and had been receiving directions from the latter. But there were three men chasing you – working for the man you were stalking, most likely, although you weren’t sure – and the streets were unfamiliar, the heat of the evening oppressive, the crush of bodies at the market stifling and the air dusty and thick. You knew, even as your feet pounded on the uneven ground, that you were not going to outlast these men – locals, larger and more numerous than you.

“You’re fucking insane, you know that?”

Ethan had barrelled into you from the side just as the first gunshot had gone off, rolling with a grunt and a curse over some poor stallholder’s display and behind a wall of crates. The rush of relief his presence unfailingly conjured was short-lived as he dragged you to your feet, a quick “alright?” and that goddamn movie-star grin before he was pushing you out from behind the makeshift shelter and back into the crowd. You hadn’t even noticed the substantial tear in his shirt or the rough hatching of a graze high on his cheek until you’d been leaning against a wall, panting and a little shaky, but alive and free of your pursuers.

You’d almost ripped him a (another) new one then and there, but then he’d shaken his head at you and held up his hand, panting, “let’s just get back,” before you could even open your mouth. So you’d held your tongue. Until you’d gotten back.

Now, both his hands were on your shoulders, firm and warm, holding you still. “(Y/N),” he was saying, his eyes searching your face. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” you sighed after a moment, half tempted to jerk out of his grasp again. You didn’t. “I’m fine. Are you?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He nodded, his hands sliding down to grip your arms. The graze wasn’t too bad up close, but as your eyes flicked to the cut on his arm, your anger reared its head again. God, if that had been twenty centimetres to the right…

“No you’re fuckin not,” you said, breathing deeply. It was late, and you didn’t want to disturb anyone more than you already had. “Let me see that.”

His hands dropped from you altogether, and he stepped back. “It’s fine, (Y/N), just a graze.”

“A bullet graze!”

“It’s fine.”

You shook your head, closing what little distance had opened up between you to point your finger into his chest. “Don’t ever pull shit like that again.”

“No promises,” he shrugged.

Jesus fucking Christ! You had half a mind to grab his gun off him and finish the job right there, see how fine he’d be with his brains blown onto the wall behind him. Even then he’d brush it off as a bruise, maybe a light concussion. You swallowed. “Ethan, you could have been killed !”

“But I wasn’t. All that matters is that you’re alright.” He’d taken your hand, folding your accusing finger back towards your palm gently – so gently it made your heart ache – and enclosing your fist in his much larger one. Your stupid, traitorous stomach did a flip to rival his acrobatics.

“No,” you gritted, “that’s not all that matters! You fucking–” matter. You matter to me. You pressed your lips firmly together, the words boiling in the back of your throat, spiralling into a hard, painful lump. You matter, Ethan, more than any fucking mission. None of it would mean shit if you didn’t make it, if I didn’t have you. You matter and I fucking love you, you idiot!

He was looking at you oddly, you realised, the silence hanging between you so thickly you’d need a damn chainsaw to cut it. His hand still cradled yours, but as you watched, his shoulders slumped ever so slightly and the ready-for-anything gleam you were so painfully familiar with faded from his eyes.

You both turned as someone – Luther – cleared his throat, a sharp silhouette against the glow of twilight through the window behind him.

“Are you alright?” your friend asked, looking between the two of you.

“Yeah,” you huffed, pulling back and running both your now-free hands through your hair.

“Ethan?”

“Yeah.”

Another silence, though less tense.

“Taking a shower,” you muttered, feeling your own body slouch as the adrenaline drained from you. You were sweaty, hot, dusty, shaky and too strung out for any more of this shit. Nobody stopped you as you trudged past first Ethan, then Luther, down the narrow hallway and into the small hotel bathroom. You thought you could hear Luther’s rumbling voice over the stream of shower water, Ethan’s higher-pitched response, but couldn’t make out any words. Maybe that was for the better.

In your dream, Ethan wasn’t fine. In your dream, he hadn’t moved as fast and wasn’t stumbling to his feet, pulling you with him. In your dream, he went down and stayed down, breath coming fast and short, and instead of a rip in his sleeve there was a dark stain spreading over his chest.

“Ethan?” you said, watching yourself scramble across the rough dirt of the street to his side, your hands flitting uselessly over his torso.

He cursed, taking your hand as he had so many times before, big and warm and more comforting than it had any right to be. “You alright?” he asked, teeth gritted.

“Yeah, fine. Fuck, Ethan hold on–”

“No, (Y/N)–”

“Hold on , dammit!” It was amazing how viscerally you could feel the pain, sharp and hot like a gunshot wound of your own. You fumbled at your pockets with one hand, pressing down on his chest with the other, but your phone was nowhere to be found. When you shouted for an ambulance or help or anything at all, nobody was listening. The market bustled on around you, the people no more real than shadows on a wall.

Ethan was saying your name again, his blood hot and wet against your palm. Too much, too much too fast.

“All that matters is that you’re alright,” he was telling you, and half your mind was seeing him as he had been in the hallway – serious, sweaty, patch of pink skin over his cheekbone hatched with where the dirt had caught and cut it as he’d rolled.

In your dream, you told the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth, words spilling from you in a sick waterfall. “You matter, Ethan. You matter to me, I love you, do you know how much you matter to me?”

You’d seen people die before. It was part and parcel of your job, so you knew what it looked like. This was no different. Ethan’s eyes were hazy, unfocussed, and he was too pale. There was a light sheen of sweat beading his face and neck. His chest was soaked with his blood and your hands were slick with it. His fingers were loosening around your own.

“Ethan?” you asked, your own grip slackening as his head lolled. “Ethan, come on, just hold on–”

No one’s coming.

“Hold on, Ethan. Don’t go. Don’t go, I can’t do this without you.”

He wasn’t looking at you anymore.

“Please, just– listen to me. You don’t know. You have no idea how much you matter to me, how much I need you. Ethan, come on, I love you!”

In your dream, Ethan was dead and you woke shivering despite the warmth of the room. You lay stock-still, counting to ten again and again until your breathing finally slowed and your heart rate returned to normal. You wriggled down under the sheet you’d draped over yourself, curling inwards and wishing for something more substantial than the loose t-shirt – once Ethan’s – and your underwear.

You’d watched Ethan die a thousand times, in a thousand different ways. Nobody would ever torture it out of you, but these – when he didn’t know, when it was too late before you told him – were the worst. It left you with a sick feeling in your gut, a hollow emptiness in your chest where your heart and lungs should have been, and limbs so heavy you were always surprised you managed to get up the next morning. And, of course, the inevitable wave of loathing at how fucking pathetic you were dreaming about telling your partner – friend , probably your best friend, because you were long past being coworkers – that you loved him.

You sighed, turning over. It was close to the full moon, the open window casting a rectangle of silver over the lump that was your legs, the light breeze moving the curtains gently. You could get up and close it. You should.

You’d been too pissed off and tired after your shower to do much more than grunt thanks to Luther when he handed you a cold doner kebab, eat it, then fall onto your bed and close your eyes. Usually, you’d have forced Ethan to take a shower too, waited until he emerged in fresh clothes and smelling like cheap soap, hair damp and curling around his ears, and patted the spot on the couch or bed or floor beside you. He’d always roll his eyes but sit anyway, and he’d stay sitting as you cleaned and dressed – sometimes stitched – whatever injuries he’d acquired with only minimal complaining. He’d give you the same treatment afterwards.

You hadn’t done any of that before, and now you missed the little ritual. You’d been mentally cataloguing the first aid kit for antiseptic cream, bandages, wound pads, suture needles and sterile thread as soon as it had even clocked in your mind that he had more than just the graze to his cheek, the uncomfortable weight of your dream growing heavier with the realisation that you’d left it all to him. And Luther, you supposed.

It was such a little thing, but in the moment it seemed to loom over you, blocking out the moon’s rectangle.

You sighed again, your feet hitting the floor before you’d even fully realised that you were getting up. 2.28 AM glowed sickly green from the digital clock on the nightstand. Maybe if you hadn’t had that specific dream, you thought, you would have given this more consideration. Turned over and closed your eyes, decided to wait until morning proper, dismissed your guilt and concern as remnants of a stressful evening. But you had had that dream, and now that you’d eased the door open and were slipping down the hallway towards the room Ethan occupied, there was no way you could have turned back.

His door was ajar, and didn’t squeal or protest when you eased it open. The set-up, like most hotel bedrooms, was exactly the same as your own. Cupboard on one wall (open, with a duffle bag resting half in and half out of it), dresser next to the door (two guns and a few spare magazines next to them), and a double bed by the window. The orientation of the room meant that the moonlight fell on the floor instead of the bed, but you could still clearly make out Ethan’s prone form, sheet wrinkled and twisted under him, one arm dangling over the side of the mattress, a few strands of hair over his face fluttering with each breath.

You’d seen him asleep before, of course you had. There hadn’t always been hotel rooms with two bedrooms and a pull-out couch to rotate through, nice as that was. There hadn’t even always been separate beds or mattresses – or any at all. Sometimes you ended up side by side in a queen that was supposed to be two singles, slumped on top of him in the back of a van or on a rooftop, curled against his back in a sleeping bag that was only really meant for one person. You didn’t mind, not really, but seeing him like that – totally relaxed, peaceful – tugged at something deep inside you.

You hesitated, one hand on the doorframe, shivering once more in the breeze from his open window. The curtains billowed inwards, floated suspended for a moment, then receded back to brush at the thick sill. The bed rustled as Ethan turned over, and you froze. He’d said something, you thought he’d said something that sounded like your name. Then he did it again, and you were sure.

“(Y/N).”

You crossed the room silently, kneeling then lying smoothly on the bed and against his back like you were made to fit there. He hummed softly as your arm slid over his ribs, your fingers splayed over his heart. Still beating, strong and even and alive.

He sighed, shifting ever so slightly back towards you, his own hand finding yours, larger fingers lacing with your own.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed. The dressing on his arm where the bullet had clipped him seemed to glow, taunting you. He did this himself, it said. You left, he almost took a fucking bullet for you and you didn’t even fix it for him .

The slow expansion and contraction of his torso paused for a moment. Neither of you were heavy sleepers, your job had seen to that. “(Y/N)?”

“Yeah.”

“What’re you sorry for?” he asked, voice thick with sleep.

Everything. “Yelling at you. I just…” You paused, no longer cold in the shadow of your dream, but still aware of its presence. “I don’t wanna see you get hurt.”

There was a beat of silence, then he was turning over again to face you, his hand slipping from your own to run up over your forearm, your elbow, your upper arm, catching momentarily on the sleeve of your shirt before coming to rest on your shoulder. “You’re here,” he whispered. “Thought I was dreaming…”

You smiled, reaching out to run your fingers around the neck of his wifebeater singlet. Even just waking up, he looked good in the damn thing. “You were.”

He frowned, the patch of rough red hashing standing out in the silvery dimness. Up this close, you could see every minute crease between his brows that hadn’t been there a minute ago, every tiny line of tension around his eyes. “What’re you doing here?” he asked.

You shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. I felt bad.” I couldn’t help you. I couldn’t help you and I couldn’t tell you, and you still don’t know.

“For yelling at me?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t wanna see you get hurt, either. That’s–”

“All that matters. You said.”

You were at a crossroads. You felt it as if someone had infused your every cell with the knowledge that you had two options, and you could only take one, and it would change things. How, you weren’t sure, but the sticky warmth of Ethan’s blood between your fingers and the rough dirt digging into your knees still made your skin tingle.

“You’re wrong,” you continued. “That’s not all that matters.”

The frown deepened. “Hm?”

“You matter, Ethan. To me. If I don’t have you…” You shrugged, once again counting your breaths. How was it that you were more highly strung now than you had been while you were quite literally being chased through a market and shot at? It was so far away now, a distant memory of someone else. This, here, the gap barely wider than ten centimetres between your face and Ethan’s, the warm air and the pale moonlight, the warmer weight of his hand still on your shoulder… That was real.

But bravery – a strange word, you realised, even as you had the thought – only went so far. “Don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you,” you finished lamely.

He knew it wasn’t what you’d been going to say, that it barely went half way to getting across what you wanted to. But still, he just smiled and gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You won’t ever have to find out.”

Maybe you weren’t really awake. Maybe you’d wandered into his dream instead of his room, or maybe (and more likely) he’d found his way into yours. Maybe you really had turned over and gone back to sleep instead of padding down the hall and sliding in next to him, and this was your mind’s way of apologising to you for the earlier horror show. It must be, you reasoned, because somewhere you’d ended up pressed against his front – something that hadn’t happened before; you always found yourself curled around him from behind. Your skin felt like it was on fire as his hand slid across your collar, up your neck to rest on your cheek.

The kiss, when it came, hardly registered as something new. After all, how many times had this played out in your mind? How many times had you wondered what it would be like to move those last few centimetres, lean across that last gap, shove the two of you over that line like he’d shoved you out of the way of that bullet. It was an extension of where you were right now, of where you’d been for the last however long, of where you’d somehow known you were eventually going to end up.

He was as gentle with you as he’d always been, soft and so painfully careful. He held you like you might break, as if you were something precious and delicate, his hand warm where he cradled your face. You felt the last sticky residue of tension and fear drain from your body as you slid the hand that had been resting on his chest down, over his ribs, around his back, pressing between his shoulder blades.

“Ethan,” you whispered as he pulled away, still close enough that you could feel his breath on your face. You weren’t shivering anymore.

“You’re so beautiful,” he replied, brushing a stray piece of hair away from your face.

You smiled, every cell in your body tingling with warmth. “So’re you.”

“Mm-mm,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Not like you. You have no idea how beautiful you are.”

There wasn’t much your kiss-addled, Ethan-filled brain could say to that. You closed the gap once more, his mouth impossibly soft, the faint hint of his toothpaste clinging to his tongue when it slid against your own. Someone – you or him, you weren’t sure – made a tiny noise somewhere in the realm of a sigh as you shifted even closer to him, hooking your leg over his.

He was almost on top of you now, leaning over you, suspended carefully on one arm. You’d been here before, pressed into the floor of wherever you were sparring, sweaty and determined to do whatever it took to gain the upper hand again. Secretly, though, you’d wondered what that would feel like like this, and now you wondered if he had, too.

Just as you had all those other times, you pushed your hips up off the mattress and flipped him smoothly. He huffed as you straddled him, blinking up at you in surprise before a smile spread over his face and he sat up, kissing you once more, his hands settling on your hips. You were half aware of your body curving towards his as your hands tangled in his hair, the rapid deterioration of your kisses into something that probably wouldn’t fit the word under any stringent definition.

“Can I?” he asked, fingers flitting around the hem of your shirt.

You just nodded, pulling the garment over your head quicker than you ever had before and casting it aside. If Ethan recognised it, he didn’t say anything.

“You too,” you whispered when he didn’t show any signs of copying you, pulling at the thin cotton of his own shirt.

“Huh?”

“Shirt, dummy,” you smiled. “It’s not fair if I’m the only one who’s naked.”

“All’s fair in love and war.”

Love. Your heart sped up at the word. This could be love. Or war, you supposed.

“I don’t think that’s what that means,” you said, wrinkling your nose.

“Sure it is,” he shrugged. But his hands were at the hem of the stupid thing, and before you could say anything else he was easing it over his head – mindful of his arm – and tossing it to join yours. “Fair now?”

“Yeah.” You’d seen him without a shirt before. Changing in the back of a van, bandaging a cracked rib or disinfecting a patch of tiny cuts where he’d rolled through broken glass (which happened far too frequently, in your opinion), passing him on his way out of the bathroom. Every time made your stomach flip over and your mind race, but you’d never been able to touch him like this before; run your hands down over his shoulders and arms, across his stomach, up again over his chest, around his ribcage, down the curve of his spine.

He was in the same boat, you supposed, smiling as his hand slid appreciatively up your side, thumb skimming the soft underside of your breast. You moaned as he bent to kiss down the column of your throat, sucking at the flesh over your jugular and where your neck met your shoulder, teeth grazing the skin occasionally, tongue soothing the blossoming marks left behind.

“Can I ask you something?” you sighed as he mouthed at the hollow of your collar bone.

“Yeah.”

“You said my name before. Were you dreaming about me?”

Again, “Yeah.”

You smiled. “What about me?”

“That you were here.” He broke away from your skin, stretching to place a soft kiss on your lips. “And you were safe.”

“Well I am.” There was more to it, you could feel it.

“You are.” Another kiss, almost chaste in its brevity.

“What else?” you asked.

He paused, hesitant, then, “You had your legs around my neck.”

Oh. Oh.

“Fuck, Ethan,” you whispered. That image wasn’t a new one. The fact that he dreamed about you was news enough, but that… That sent a veritable deluge of heat and desire down through your body, pooling wetly between your thighs. You had to consciously stop yourself from grinding on him right then and there.

You wouldn’t have been able to, anyway. He was pushing you backwards now, his kisses trailing down over your sternum, between your breasts – he paused here to mouth at one, kneading the other gently, making you moan again – and on to your stomach. He slowed when he reached the waistband of your underwear, kissing across the bridge between your hip bones, leaving you a belt of faint hickeys.

“Can–”

“Yes,” you answered.

He looked up at you from where he’d slid between your legs, one hand on your hip and the other pushing at your thigh. His hair hung over his forehead and almost into his eyes (you’d been trying to get him to let you trim it for weeks now), lips pink and kiss-swollen and so pretty. “Ok,” he smiled, pulling your underwear down over your legs shockingly easily, considering they were still wrapped around his waist. You cursed softly as he bent his head again, kissing the inside of your thigh.

“Wondered what this’d be like,” he whispered, sucking at a spot beside it.

“Fuck, Ethan,” you gasped, your hand sliding down to rest on his head, fingers carding through his hair.

He hummed softly into your skin. “What you’d taste like.”

You cursed again as he licked over the mark, fingers skirting where you wanted him most, your skin on fire with every kiss.

“What you’d sound like.”

You pressed your lips together firmly, stifling any sound as he slid a finger over your wetness. You raised your head, meeting his eyes directly. “Do you wanna find out?”

“Yes,” he breathed. His breath hitched in his chest, and there was that perfect movie-star grin. “Fuck, yes.”

You opened your mouth to say something to that, but before the words had formed in your mind Ethan was licking up your cunt and the only thing that came out of your mouth was an embarrassingly loud moan. You felt him smile, his own soft noise of pleasure muffled against your flesh as he licked again, then sucked determinedly at your clit.

“Oh, fuck , Ethan–” you gasped, fingers tightening in his hair, legs locked around his shoulders.

“Hm?”

“That’s fucking– You’re– Holy shit that’s good.”

Ethan just grinned again, his tongue flicking over you, one finger circling your entrance. A suggestion. “Is this alright?”

You nodded frantically, pressing your lips together as he pushed it inside you. “Yes,” you whined as he licked you again, letting yourself fall back onto the mattress as the hand not gripping his hair twisted in the sheets. He groaned softly, the sound reverberating over you as he sucked your clit, his finger working your hole. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop–” you panted, practically grinding on his face.

A soft hum, then he was adding a second finger, lapping up everything you were giving him as you squirmed , your breath coming in ragged gasps. You could feel the orgasm coming now, coiling in your stomach like a spring, hot and tight and Ethan was the one building it up. Every curl of his fingers, every brush of his tongue and lips, every little grunt or hum, and his free hand gripping your thigh like a vice. You hoped you’d have bruises.

“Oh, oh, Ethan, oh my God–”

Close, you were so damn close. You were aware of your hips jutting up against his face, and the tiny part of your brain that wasn’t consumed with pleasure and want might have felt bad.

“I’m gonna– fuck – holy shit , Ethan– Ethan I’m gonna–”

Then everything was crashing around you and you were crying his name, your legs spasming and your spine arching, electricity fizzing through you. Ethan continued fucking you with his hand, slower and gentler now, his mouth soft on your sensitive clit. Maybe it was gradual, maybe not, but eventually your body transitioned from roiling static to a gentle buzz and your grip on his hair slackened, your legs relaxing around his shoulders.

He sat calmly between your legs, licking his fingers. The entire lower half of his face shone silver in the moonlight with your slick, his lips pink and swollen, eyes fixed keenly on you. You thought if he looked at you like that a second longer, you were going to cum all over again.

You smiled at him, your hand finding his where it still rested on your hip. Gently (though maybe it was because your limbs still felt so heavy and floppy), you pulled him up the bed and down on top of yourself, stretching up to kiss him hard. You could taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue when it slid into your mouth, and his hand on your skin was slightly sticky. It slid around your waist, pushing against the small of your back, pressing your chest to his. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to get enough of it.

You whispered his name against his lips, your own hands settled firmly around his shoulders, holding on for dear life. The fabric of his underwear – why the hell was he still wearing anything? – seemed to burn where it brushed over your hip, pressing hot and hard against you.

“(Y/N),” he breathed, pulling back enough to study your face carefully, as if he were memorising every detail.

You felt the air catch in your lungs, your heart skip a beat. “You’re so…” Pretty. Lovely. Gorgeous. Hot. Handsome. Beautiful. You’re everything, Ethan. “God, I love you.”

He froze, and it was only then that you realised you’d said it. You’d actually said the goddamn words, aloud, to him.

“Are you serious?” he asked. Not incredulous, not judgemental, simply seeking clarification.

And how the hell were you supposed to lie? You nodded, your mouth suddenly dry.

“Say it again.”

“I love you,” you repeated numbly. Then, swallowing, “Is that ok?”

Another beat passed in silence, then he laughed. “Yes, dammit, I love you too.”

“You… love me too.” Had you heard him right? Had you somehow wandered back to your dream, fallen into an orgasm-dulled sleep and imagined the last few minutes? But no, Ethan’s lips felt real enough when they brushed yours again, his fingers felt real enough on your back.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“Say it again.”

“I love you. And you love me, don’t you?”

You nodded, an absurd bubble of laughter swelling in your chest. “Yes,” you grinned. “I love you, Ethan.”

This kiss was different. A kiss has to taste different after something like that, you supposed, and you were both still smiling. You reached down, your fingers skirting the waistband of his underwear, then further still to press your hand against his hard bulge. He moaned into your mouth, breaking the kiss to glance down, up again.

“Off,” you whispered, already pulling at the fabric. He obliged, quickly and smoothly as he’d rid himself of his shirt, and in a moment his lips were back against your own, hot and hungry. You took his cock in your hand, your own lips moving away from his across his jaw, the hollow where it met his neck, his skin clean and smooth and tasting faintly of hotel soap.

His dick was hot to the touch, thick and long and roped with veins. You’d wondered, sometimes, what this would feel like. You’d imagined the sound he’d make when you touched him like this (it couldn’t ever have come close to the real thing, you knew that now), how that hot weight would feel against your tongue. He groaned in earnest as you stroked your hand along his length, your thumb swiping around the leaking head. He cursed softly, your name hissing between his teeth, hips moving gently in tandem with your hand.

“I wanted you for so long, Ethan,” you murmured into his neck. “You have no idea.”

“Yeah?”

You smiled. “I dream about you too, you know.”

He faltered, just for a moment, then, “What about me?”

You felt your smile widen and you frantically suppressed the urge to laugh again at the echo of your own earlier words. “I dream about fucking you six ways into next week,” you said simply. “Sucking your cock till I’m choking on it and making you cum in my mouth. Or in my pussy, I don’t care.”

“Oh fuck, (Y/N), Jesus,” he groaned, the sound sending another bolt of heat to your still sensitive pussy. “You think about that when we’re out there?”

“Mhm.” This time you did laugh, nothing more than a soft exhale, not stopping your hand’s movements. “Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like to jerk you off when you’re tryna aim a gun.”

His cock twitched in your grasp, a low moan pressed back behind his lips. “God, (Y/N) that’s–”

“Insane?”

“So fucking hot. You’re so fucking hot.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Wanna feel you, all of you. Can I?”

Now it was your turn to curse. “Yes,” you breathed, wriggling to wrap your legs around his waist, your hand leaving its place to grip his shoulder, run down his arm, guide his hand to your hip. “Please, Ethan.”

“Here?”

“Yeah. Here.” You ground your hips against his, already tingling as his cock slid against your slick centre. “I want you inside me. Need you.”

“Shit, ok, just let me–” He broke off as he sank into you, his hum of pleasure mingling with your own breathy moan. Maybe it was the after effects of your earlier orgasm, the dream state you still weren’t entirely sure you’d broken out of, or a combination of both, but you swore that nothing would ever top this feeling. It was like he was made for you, slow and soft as he pulled out and pushed back in, did it again, then again and again.

“Shit, Ethan,” you whispered, your hand coming up to run over the back of his head, fingers carding through his mussed-up hair as he bent his head to kiss your chest. You were glad it was still long enough for this, that you hadn’t managed to get him to cut it. He groaned against you and you smiled to yourself, stroking his scalp again and coaxing another wonderful little moan. You curled your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, lifting your hips off the mattress in time with his thrusts. His breath fanned over your neck, the muscles of his arm taut.

“Harder?” you murmured. “Don’t have to be so gentle.”

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he replied, his breath warm against your skin.

“You won’t, don’t worry. Please?”

He raised his head, eyes searching your face. “Ok,” he said, dipping down to kiss your lips quickly and softly before he was drawing away and sitting back between your legs, lifting your hips with one hand and sliding a pillow under your lower back with the other.

Your heart skipped a beat, butterflies swirling alongside the magma in your stomach. This time he pushed hard into you, his cock stroking every inch of your insides, the hand that had been on your hip sliding to press down on your pelvis. “Yes,” you gasped, “yes, just like that.”

“Like this?” Another thrust, even and determined.

“Yeah, oh fuck that’s so good.” You reached up over your head, one hand gripping the headboard of the bed as the other twisted in the sheets, eyes fixed on Ethan. He was so beautiful in the moonlight, shining as though he was cast in silver. He was a fucking masterpiece.

“You’re so good,” he said. “You look so perfect like that, feel like Heaven, (Y/N), I swear.”

Oh, did he know what he was doing to you? Every jolt of his hips against yours building low inside you, his barely restrained little sounds and the heaving of his chest. You weren’t going to last much longer.

“Don’t stop,” you gasped, “ fuck, Ethan, you feel so good. Making me feel so fucking good, so good , you have no idea.”

“Hm?”

“So hot. You’re so goddamn hot, you know that?”

“(Y/N)–”

You were close. You were so fucking close, wound tight and ready to snap at any moment. You whined his name, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts, legs tight around his waist.

“Fuck, (Y/N), I’m– I’m gonna–” He broke off, pressing his lips together, his eyes fixed on you.

“Yeah? You gonna cum?”

“Yeah, fuck, where do I–”

“In me.”

“You sure?”

Were you sure? You’d been sure for way too long now. “Yeah, dammit, wanna feel you cum in my pussy, fucking filling me up so good–”

That did it. His thrusts stuttered and slowed as he spilled inside you, his chest heaving and his head tilted back, eyes closed, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. God, he was just too much, and you’d made him look like that. It had been you, all you, and it was you he was still buried deep inside. Your own climax rolled over you with that, your body squeezing tight and hot around him, your grip on the bed hard enough that you were sure your knuckles were white, spine arching as bliss flooded your body. You might have said his name, he might have said yours again, but it didn’t matter.

You lay there, warm all over and shaking, watching him. After a moment, his eyes opened and he smiled at you, gingerly pulling out to flop beside you on the mattress.

“Clean up?” he asked, already reaching over the side of the bed.

“Yeah.” You were too heavy to do anything but let him gently run the towel he’d found between your legs, thighs and stomach twitching when the rough cotton came into contact with your oversensitive clit.

“Sorry,” he muttered, cursorily wiping at his own crotch before tossing the piece of fabric away. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you sighed again, wriggling off the pillow and kicking it aside. You shifted closer to him, his arm sliding around your shoulders and pulling you against his side, his heart beating strong next to your own. Your eyes were drawn to the darker, rougher patch on his cheek, and you frowned.

“What?” he asked.

“This.” You ran your fingers over it gently, barely even touching the skin, doing the same to the dressing on his arm. “And this. Can I have a look tomorrow?”

“It is tomorrow.” He nodded to the clock. Right, yeah. After midnight. “I thought I did an ok job,” he went on before you could say anything.

“Ethan, there’s nothing even on this one,” you protested. “It’s just… there.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re not gonna kiss it better?”

“I never said that.” You smiled, dipping to brush the spot with your lips. Featherlight, barely there. “Better?”

He nodded.

“I still want to check them.”

“Ok,” he relented, squeezing your shoulder gently.

You shifted closer, your face inches from his own. Up this close, you could see the baby hairs stuck to his forehead with sweat, every eyelash shining iridescent white under the moon. “I meant it,” you whispered.

“What?”

“That you matter to me. You’re the most important thing in the world to me.”

His breath rushed through his lungs and back out again as he stretched to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’re the most important thing to me, too. I love you.”

You tilted your face to his, this time meeting his lips with your own. It was slow, unhurried, relaxed and tender, and everything you adored in Ethan. “I love you, too,” you whispered into it. Then, grinning as you drew back, “And I meant all the other stuff, too.”

He raised an eyebrow, “All of it?”

“Yeah.”

His chest shook with faint laughter under you, his hand stroking over your shoulder. “I didn’t know you thought like that. Didn’t know you thought about me like that.”

“Yeah, well…” You trailed off, shrugging, your cheeks warm. “Sorry if it was a bit much.”

“Don’t worry,” he smiled, “it wasn’t. I liked it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You know,” you said as you lay down, “anyone else couldn’t waterboard that out of me.”

“Guess I’m just that special.”

“You are, Ethan.” You weren’t shivering anymore, the only weight in you was the pleasant kind of exhaustion that came with finally being safe, being home. Ethan was alive and he knew, he knew you loved him, and he knew what he meant to you, and he loved you too. If this was a dream, it was the best one you’d ever had.

#ethan hunt #ethan hunt x reader #mission impossible #shameless smut #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #tom cruise

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