#old pepsi can

[dappled-canopy]

Found something extremely cool yesterday, to me, which is this old can! Looks old doesn't it? I wondered just how long it could have been underneath the shrub, and well!!!

I found it!!! Thank you CanMuseum.com! And the listed year of issue? 1973!!! This can has been littered in this spot for 50 years, and I think it's a real artifact =)

[colaloverforever]

˚₊‧ ♡ oh say can you see my stars ♡ ‧₊˚

[ravenncouture]

[this-doesnt-endd]

Theres one local theatre in my town thats at the end of the line of the bus route and theyll do throwback movies and a lot of the times its 80s movies and with the new 4k version of risky business on the horizion i desperatly need them to show it

[monzabee]

diet pepsi - ln4 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where you and Lando have a rather interesting way of resolving an argument. 

Pairing: lando norris x fwb!reader 

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: kinda cute ass fighting so fluff??, sex in a car, fingering, penetration, manhandling, no use of protection (wrap it before you tap it!!), cursing, minords dni!! 

Request: “okay but what about good old car sex with lando pleaseeee” 

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! first of all, who knew addison rae had the power to make a song that made me write this whole thing under 3 hours?? i certainly did not. secondly, i thought it would be nice to take a little break from the charles-carlos drama, and before i finish the third and final part to that little mini-series, i thought you guys would enjoy a little treat in the meantime! i have to admit writing for lando again was an interesting experience for me, but who knows, maybe i'll do it more often (i have one request that i'm obsessed with so that’s definitely coming your way as well!) also, i have an oscar fic in the works as well, so maybe the sudden change in mclaren also started to affect me lol. a quick psa, i know many people asked me in my last fic, but i do NOT have a taglist and i won’t be making one any time soon either! anywaaays, i hope you guys enjoy this fic, and feedback is welcome as always! thank you to the anon for their request, and good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee 

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

“I can’t believe you’re drinking that in my car.” Lando complains, shooting you a sideway glare as you sip your choice of beverage contently.  

You tilt the cup slightly in his direction, grinning. “Relax, it’s not like it’s going to explode, nor it is your car.” 

“It might as well,” Lando mutters, eyes back on the road. “Knowing your luck, the second I hit a bump, that thing will be all over the place and I’ll have to explain what happened to Zak. Do you even know how much it costs to clean these seats?” 

You laugh, swirling the drink in the cup. “You’re being dramatic, it’s not like you are the one to detail the cars you use. It’s fine, I’ve got this under control.” 

“Famous last words,” Lando grumbles. His grip tightens on the steering wheel as if he’s preparing for impact. 

You glance at him, amused. “Are you always this paranoid about your car, or is it just me?” 

“It’s you. Definitely you.” He shoots you another look, this one laced with mock suspicion. “You have a history, you know.” 

“Oh, puh-lease,” you drawl, rolling your eyes as you turn your upper body to face him. “Tell me one time I actually made a mess in your car, and I’ll throw away this can right now.” 

Lando doesn't hesitate as he answers quickly. “Monaco. Last year. You remember that smoothie incident, right?” 

You blink a couple of times, taken aback. “That doesn’t count! That was your fault for speeding around the corner like a maniac. How was I supposed to hold on to it?” 

He smirks, clearly enjoying the memory. “Oh, so now it’s my fault, huh? You were the one who insisted on bringing a smoothie into my car five minutes before a race.” 

“You didn’t even have to brake so hard,” you mutter, crossing your arms defensively. “I had it under control until you decided to turn it into a F1 race.” 

Lando chuckles, shaking his head. “Doesn't matter. I still won, throw it away now.” 

“That doesn’t count, it was clearly your fault!” You complain, holding the can protectively. “There’s no way I’m tossing this because of your bad driving.” 

Lando laughs, shaking his head. “Bad driving? I think I’d take that up with the people who hired me to race professionally.” 

“Professionally doesn’t mean you’re not reckless,” you quip, a playful glint in your eyes. “Especially when there’s a smoothie involved.”  

“Fine,” he contends, shrugging, “how about that time I made you come too hard, and you leaked onto the seats?”  

This manages to shut you down for a moment, with eyes nearly bulging out of your head, you gasp at Lando’s sudden choice of words. “Lando!” You exclaim, reaching over the console to hit him on the arm gently, “That’s vulgar!” 

Silently chuckling at your reaction, he reaches over as he places a hand on your upper thigh, his hand tightening as you hold his wrist in warning. “It’s the truth,” he reminds you with a smirk, “don’t go shy on me, now, you were the one to get the seats all messed up because of how wet you were.” If you weren’t blushing before, your face most definitely resembles a tomato now as he continues his stream of consciousness, “Not that I’m complaining, though, I’m pretty sure I came in my pants when I made you cum just from my fingers.”  

 “You– you did?” The question flies from your mouth before you can stop yourself.  

The smile that overtakes the smirk on Lando’s face is almost sweet, and he coos at the innocence of your question as he squeezes your thigh again. “Oh baby,” he coos, “it was the hottest thing ever.”  

Your thighs attempt to trap his hand as you inadvertently press them tighter together, your nose scrunching up in confusion. “But it was messy.”  

“That was the best part,” Lando confirms, his thumb caressing your skin. “I loved getting to clean you up afterwards, didn’t I? Almost as much as you loved it.” 

“Sure.” You mumble, shrugging as you do your best to ignore his burning stare. You’d be worried about the fact that he was supposed to be driving if it was someone else, but considering he’s a F1 driver, you don’t comment on Lando’s lack of his surroundings as he pushes your thighs apart. “What are you doing?” You ask, confused as he moves his fingers further up your skirt.  

“You just focus on finishing that drink, okay?” He mumbles as his fingers pull your underwear to the side. “I’m suddenly in the mood for something sweet myself.”  

“Lando, I don’t think we should do th–hat.” Your voice waivers towards the end as his fingertips press on your clit, drawing lax circles on the bundle of nerves. “Lando,” you try to warn him, but your voice comes out as a high-pitched whimper.  

He shushes you gently as his fingers spread your wetness around your skin, causing you to bite down on your lip to silence yourself. Lando lets his dissent known by clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, mumbling, “Don’t silence yourself, let me hear you, baby.” And when you give him what he wants and let out a loud moan as your hips involuntarily buck against his hand. Grinding the palm of his hand against your puffy clit, Lando uses your wetness to slowly push two of his fingers into you, drawing out another moan as you lean your head against the headrest. “My God, baby, look at you. You’re already making a mess on the seats.”  

“N-no,” you manage to whine, shaking your head as you give him a pleading but stubborn look, “I’m not making a mess.”  

“No?” He asks, mocking the pout that has found its way onto your lips. “Then who is so wet against my hand that it’s dripping, huh?” You're not sure if it’s his words or the way his fingers keep moving in and out of your cunt, but in either case, the overwhelming need of just something more causes you to attempt to put the can in your hand down, when Lando tuts again in warning, “You don’t get to put your drink down until you first come on my fingers.” 

After his words set in, you finally come to your senses, suddenly opening your eyes as you give him a shocked look. “Wha–what?” You ask, “What if I spill?” 

He shrugs, an innocent smile on his lips as he throws you a glance, “I guess you’ll just have to be careful and not spill it.” The smile on his lips grows as you let out a frustrated sound, and he responds by moving his fingers in a come-hither motion to git the spot, which causes your body to arch into his touch. “Are you going to give me what I want?” He asks, his concentration still on the road as he tries to find a secluded spot to park the car.  

“Uh-huh,” you mutter, voice shaky as you focus on not dropping the can in your hand, “I will, Lando, just keep doing that.”  

“Doing what?” He asks in a faux-innocent tone, as he goes back to simply continuing the pistoning movement of his fingers. “Like this?” He asks, with a shit eating grin on his face as you whine. “Or, like this?” He asks again, but this time, he repeats the movement of his fingers previously as he hits your g-spot again.  

You can’t control the scream that gets released from the back of your throat as your body shakes violently. “That,” you breathe out, your free hand holding onto the seatbelt so tight that you can feel it starting to cramp your hand a little bit, “don’t you dare stop doing that.” 

Lando lets out a low chuckle, clearly satisfied with your desperate plea. His fingers continue their relentless pace, teasing and coaxing you closer to the edge. “Oh, I won’t stop,” he murmurs, his tone soft yet commanding. “Not until you give me what I want.” 

Your entire body feels like it's on fire, the combination of his skilled fingers and the impossible task of not spilling your drink has you teetering on the edge. The car feels smaller, the world outside irrelevant, as Lando’s attention is focused solely on you. Being so consumed by the way Lando’s fingers move in and out of your cunt, you don’t even know that the car you are in at the moment has been abandoned in the side of a deserted road. You grip the can tighter, your hand trembling as the tension builds in your core. “Lando,” you gasp, a hint of desperation seeping into your voice. “I— I can't—” 

He smirks, enjoying your struggle. “You can,” he counters smoothly, leaning slightly closer while keeping one hand on the steering wheel. “You can do it, just let it go, baby.” His thumb presses harder on your clit, drawing another loud moan from your lips. 

“Lando, please,” you beg, your voice almost cracking under the weight of your impending release. “I’m going to—” 

“Good,” he cuts you off, his smirk widening. “Let go for me, baby. And don't you dare spill that drink." 

His words are your undoing. With one final flick of his fingers, you shatter around him, your body convulsing with pleasure as you ride out your high. Your head falls back against the seat, your hand gripping the can so hard you’re not surprised it bursts under the pressure. 

His words are your undoing. With one final flick of his fingers, you shatter around him, your body convulsing with pleasure as you ride out your high. Your head falls back against the seat, your hand gripping the can so hard you’re not surprised it bursts under the pressure. 

You hear Lando’s satisfied chuckle as he eases his fingers out of you, giving your thigh one last affectionate squeeze. “Good girl,” he murmurs, glancing over at you with a proud smile. “Look at how good you look.” He shamelessly holds his fingers in front of your face, then without missing a beat, he brings his fingers into his mouth. The way he moans is nothing short of sinful, and you watch him with your lips parted as he mumbles around his fingers, “I think you spilled it a little bit.” 

“E-Excuse me?” You stutter, looking at Lando with the horrified look on your face. “No, I didn’t!” 

Lando raises an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering as he glances down at the mess on the seat. “Oh, but you did,” he teases, licking his lips after savoring the taste of you on his fingers. His eyes gleam with amusement as he points at the spot between your legs. “Not the drink, though… you.” 

Your face burns with a mix of embarrassment and desire, your breath still uneven as you try to process what just happened. “That’s not what I—” you stammer, crossing your arms over your chest, but Lando just laughs softly. 

“Relax, love. It’s nothing a little cleaning can’t fix.” He leans back in his seat, eyes never leaving you, his hand returning to the steering wheel like what just happened was the most normal thing in the world. “Besides, I’d much rather clean you up later.” 

You feel the heat spread through your body again, and despite yourself, you can’t help but feel a wave of arousal wash over you. Lando’s confidence, the way he handles you with such ease, is almost intoxicating. But as much as you’re enjoying the moment, a small part of you knows this is ridiculous. 

“You’re insufferable,” you mutter, trying to regain some composure, though your flushed cheeks give you away. 

Lando just grins, completely unbothered. “You love it,” he says casually, shooting you another one of those playful sideway glances that makes your heart race. “Admit it. You like when I make you lose control.” 

You bite your lip, fighting the urge to throw a retort his way. But you can’t deny it, not after the way your body reacted to his touch. “You’re lucky you’re good at this,” you finally concede, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Lando’s smile softens, just for a moment. “Good at a lot of things,” he says, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. Then he pulls the car to a stop, turning off the engine before leaning toward you, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “And I’m just getting started.” 

[endless-ineffabilities]

Diet Pepsi (18+)

A modern Aemond Targaryen x girlfriend reader smutshot

When we drive in your car, I'm your baby So sweet Losing all my innocence in the backseat

a/n : how do I explain this? I suppose the song Diet Pepsi got stuck in my head, and when I watched the music video, the only male lead I could envision in that sorta situation is our Aemond/Ewan. So here ya go! Reading time... depends on what you get into 😉💋

masterlist

themes/warnings : pure smut, filthy actions and filthy language, complete disregard for sports car interiors, old money boyfriend Aemond x bratty internet starlet girlfriend reader, sticky surfaces, foggy windows, wayward fingers, sliding tongues, and YES YES YES

"What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours?"

Your boyfriend glances at you from the corner of his eye, barely, his attention remaining on the road. But his veiny hand reaches over to squeeze your thigh, fully exposed beneath the scrap of pale pink fabric that you try to pass off as a miniskirt.

Mission accomplished. After only a few minutes of pretending to stew while looking out the window, he is quick to sense that something is amiss with his kitten.

"Nothing," you respond in the best downcast tone you can manage, fighting the urge to clench your thighs to trap his thick fingers in the warmth between.

"Come on now," he clicks his tongue, "don't play around."

"I don't know what you mean."

"You've barely looked at me since you got in the fucking car." Poor baby. You're getting to him, as planned.

Time to rile him up in a way that only you can. "Do you think Maris is pretty?"

He scoffs, "Don't start, kitten."

"So you do," you egg him on. "I knew it. You were looking at her tits earlier. I bet you loved it when that skank bent over in front of you. Gave you a good view."

"Kitten, please," his grip on your flesh tightens, trying to get you stop. "You're being ridiculous."

"And you didn't answer my question, Aemond," you snap back, grabbing his hand and prying it from your leg.

"Fuck's sake," he groans. He then rests both his hands on the steering wheel, at the standard 10 and 2, grasping onto it so roughly that the leather squeaks.

You called him Aemond. Not babe. Not handsome. You must be pissed, for some imagined reason, and he simply does not have the time.

Impatient, he goes off on a tirade, "You've asked me this shit before, babe, and my answer remains the same. I don't care about any other girl. You're the only one that I want, that I will ever want."

Licking your lips, and looking slyly at him behind your done-up eyelashes, you say, "You could've fooled me." He raises his brow at your childishness, muscles flexing under his tight white shirt as he makes a sharp turn. You continue, "I know what I saw. You want her, is that it? Is it because she's got status like you?"

"You have status," he corrects you, "The whole damn country practically knows your name."

"But it's not the same," you moan. "I didn't come from money. My blood isn't blue."

He sighs audibly, "We talked about this. None of that fucking matters, kitten. Especially not to me."

You cross your legs, leaning against the car door as if to inch away from him, your devilishly handsome silver-haired aristocratic boyfriend. The very one you're so keen on tormenting now. "You don't know how I feel."

But he does. You've long since lost track of the countless times you've been blindsided by an uncharacteristic wave of self-doubt. You, infamous for being one of the bubbliest and most outgoing personalities on the internet, your lifestyle guides and fashion spreads a mainstay on every social media platform.

But ever since you started dating Aemond, you can't help but feel unworthy sometimes. He is Aemond Targaryen after all, a glowing young heir to one of the most powerful families in the country, his lineage extending back to the great Valyrian empire.

Old money, as they say. That was his life, but before him, you thought old money was just some fashion trend that dominated your Pinterest boards.

You met at a charity gala for the Hightower Foundation. Unaware of who he was, he was simply a hot guy you set your sights on, and you managed to get his attention by accidentally spilling your espresso martini down his crisp tailored shirt.

Women were not usually that forward when approaching him, especially not those who ran in the same circles as him, like the Baratheon sisters or the Tyrell heiress. But you were different. You were simply, unabashedly yourself. Your biggest asset was you - your personality, your style, your genuine warmth that allows you to build connections with anyone in the industry - you didn't walk into a room with the snootiness and entitlement of a girl born with a silver spoon in her mouth.

The chemistry was instant, overriding any superficial issues that may arise from someone like him getting with someone like you. Which is why you snuck out of the gala together, and fucked each other senseless in the backseat of his car, sweaty and giggling and whispering sweet nothings like you were already long-time lovers back then.

As you are now, nearly two years later. Aemond's love for you has only grown a thousand fold, and he shows this every day.

The car idles at a stop sign. He reaches for your face and implores, "Kitten, look at me, please."

"No," you impetuously say, making him drop his hand.

"Baby, come on."

"Don't feel like it, Aemond."

The light turns green. The car zooms past houses and open fields. Shops and smaller, unknown places of business. They all come together in a blur. The tension is at an all-time high in the car, just as you intended.

He makes several maneuvers, and the scenery outside begins to look unfamiliar to you. The street you enter next is particularly quiet, almost empty, all the shops closed for the day or boarded up. It's likely on the outskirts of King's Landing, far from the Targaryen estate in its central area of Red Keep.

"You still gonna be a brat?" he asks lowly.

You smirk, "Don't call me a fucking brat."

"Have it your way, kitten," he says, and it sounds like a promise. The car pulls up to a vacant parking lot behind an old restaurant, the surrounding area covered by a thin tree line. There is no one, and nothing in sight.

He leans back, and takes a few deep breaths.

"You've been a bad girl, my kitten."

"Have I?" you bite your lip, no longer fighting the urge to clench your thighs. The miniskirt rides up higher, and his eyes become drawn to the sight, his cock hardening underneath his blue jeans.

He hums, leaning over and grabbing your jaw towards him with one hand, "Yeah, bringing shit up like that. Like I would ever look at anyone besides you."

"Wouldn't you?"

"Want me to fucking mention the time you actually flirted with the Stark boy in front of me?"

"I wasn't - "

"Shut up, kitten," he spits. "I'm not dumb."

His voice dips low, and you feel your cunny growing wet and slick. Gods, he is so hot like this. Assertive yet downright sensual. He only wants one thing, and you will surrender it to him in a heartbeat.

"What you gonna do 'bout it, handsome?" You lick your gloss-covered lips and you are caught off guard when he pushes his thumb inside and orders, "Suck."

You obey. His pupil significantly dilates in one eye, while the sapphire fixture in the other glints beautifully. He looks regal, and he's all yours.

"That's right," he breathes, his vision clouding over in lust as he feels the pad of your tongue, "fucking minx. Always so insolent, huh?"

"Mhmmm." When tears blur the corners of your eyes, he takes his hand and sucks right where you did. Then he pulls you in roughly, kissing you with everything in him, the lewdest grunts of pleasure escaping him when you push your tongue past his teeth.

"Come... come 'ere," he places you on top of himself, straddling him in the driver's seat, the lace of your underwear rubbing against his denim. "Gods, this fucking skirt." He pokes at it, lips curling. "You torture me, darlin'. Now you gotta make up for it."

You jut your bottom lip out, dragging your bright pink fingernails across his cheek. His mouth parts at the sight of his pretty little kitten practically begging for it.

"Is that so, handsome? Why don't you make me?"

He anchors his fingers in the thin bands of your underwear and in a sure and decisive flash of movement, he rips the material apart. He throws it over his shoulder, and it lands in the backseat, among the littered lollipop and bubblegum wrappers you leave behind. He loves it when you suck on that hard candy shell in front of him. It's partially the reason why your penchant for sweet treats has gotten worse.

Your pussy is exposed to the cool draft coming from the AC of his car, and it's a good and familiar sensation. He fondles your clit, little slow circles, making you whimper. He presses on, eager to unwrap his kitten like a piece of candy to be devoured. The zip of your miniscule skirt slides down, and your bare ass and cunny is revealed to him.

"Gods fucking damn, kitten," he rasps, then slowly buries three whole fingers into your slickness, spreading your folds, pumping in and out.

"Aghhhh, baby," erupts from your glossy mouth, breath hitching as he picks up the pace. In and out. Out and in.

His face appears almost sinister, clouded over in lust, his bottom lip trapped under bunny teeth, but then he whispers, "I love you, kitten. I love you so fucking much," and you see him as your Aemond. He's offering more than just his body - to you, he has already surrendered his heart and soul.

"I love you too, baby," you respond in as firm of a voice as you can manage, made even more difficult when he probes that sweet spot inside your sopping cunt.

You leak onto his fingers, droplets of your milky white substance beginning to pool in his palm.

"Ask me again," he snarls, shapely lips pulling back to reveal his sharp teeth.

"Wh-what?" you reply in a daze.

"That stupid question," he says. His pace doesn't slow; if he keeps up, you just might forget how to speak, save for incoherent noises that make his cock twitch.

"You'd rather be... b' with... a fancy heiress," you try, pausing when he pinches your hardened nipple over your crop top with his other hand. "Maris... Baratheon... or Floris... or - "

"Look at me, princess," he says, "You feel that? You feel me? There's your fucking answer."

"Not enough," you shake your head feebly, keeping up the ruse. Judging by the buldge he sports, he's into it too.

Smirking, he pulls his glistening fingers out of you, and helps you out of your crop top. He chucks the material somewhere, before ducking his head and nipping at the mounds of your breasts.

"Unnnghhh," you hear him, muffled by your flesh. He undoes your lace bra and sucks wildly. You cradle his head with both hands, keeping him pressed against your tits. His tongue flickers out to taste your skin, and he angles his face so that your eyes meet when he takes a nipple in his mouth.

"Shit, baby," you whimper, heating up all over from the sheer intimacy of it all.

His mouth lets you go with a resounding pop, and he tilts his head toward the backseat, hands gripping your hips to guide you. He follows suit, removing his white shirt in the process, as well as his jeans, shimmying them off his legs as he scrambles after you.

He smacks your ass with an open palm as it is raised in front of him in full view, the sharp sting of it only making you grow wetter.

You shuffle onto your hands and knees, looking back to see him already in position. His fine Valyrian steel chain dangles from his neck, the one thing still on his person. His boxers are also discarded, and his length is fully erect, slapping his stomach when he leans over to hastily cover your mouth with his. Your tongues battle for dominance, drool dripping down your chins. You feel a strain in your neck from twisting back to accommodate his kiss, but you don't care.

You feel it poking at your backside, feel him, his cock all slippery from hot precum dribbling down the sides.

He rocks back, hands digging into the soft flesh of your ass, keeping you in the prime position for him to take.

In a swift movement that nearly drives you insane, he twists downward until his face is level with your opening, and he buries his tongue in your soaking pussy. You know he likes it rough, so do you, and this is his way of getting you ready.

"Fuuckkk," you collapse forward, the side of your face colliding with the smooth leather seat. He twirls his tongue around, and you swear you can see stars.

You must have blacked out for a split second, delirious from the high only he can give you, because a moment later you feel his tip edging itself slowly into your cunt.

"Ready, baby?" he asks.

"Fuck me," is your strained plea.

His cock stretches you out, inch by inch, your slicked walls straining against his sheer size. A whining noise leaves you, music to Aemond's ears, and when he's fully sheathed, he exhales, "So pretty. Such a good little slut for me, kitten." That sends you over the edge.

You move forward slightly, then back again, your ass slamming right into his pelvis. He gets the message, smart boy that he is.

With an animalistic growl, he proceeds to frantically buck his hips into you, his huge cock just about splitting you open. He slaps your ass as he goes, making you tremble.

Each thrust sends shockwaves throughout your body, causing your eyes to roll back in your head. Your dripping cunt begins to feel that familiar ache, your lower belly spasming from his ceaseless thrusts. Your knees threaten to buckle, and if they do, you imagine that his firm throbbing shaft will be enough to keep you propped up.

"Aemond... baby... " your moans echo in the car, joined by his, "Yes... yes, kitten... so fucking good, taking me like this... pussy so sweet for me... "

The filthiest of words spill from the two of you like prayers from the damned, just begging to be answered. And seven hells, with the way Aemond makes you feel like you're floating amongst the skies, he just might be your salvation.

He does not relent, intent on rearranging your insides with how deep he buries his cock inside of you. You don't want him to stop. You never do.

You have to hold onto something to keep steady, to keep from utterly flopping down in a mindless haze. Your palms reach for the fogged up windows, and Aemond angles your bodies so that you're half-seated atop his thighs. He grabs hold of your breasts as leverage, squeezing them as your leaking cunt squeezes his cock.

The angle allows him to fill you better, and that heated coil unfurls in your belly, a signal that you are about to reach your peak.

He draws forward, pressing his mouth to the back of your neck, licking your sweat with reckless abandon.

"Baby," he moans, "I'm gonna cum... gonna fill you up... "

"Oh, yeah?" you answer in a high-pitched, wanton manner.

"Yeah," he breathes.

"You promise?"

He chuckles, and you feel the sound reverberating as your back is pressed to his chest.

"My sweet kitten," he purrs.

"I'm getting close, baby," you let him know, and he takes it as his cue to pound his cock inside faster. His lips are pressed to your ear, arms wrapped around your torso possessively.

He lets himself go, decorating your insides white with his Targaryen seed. You glance down and see it spilling out of your cunt, milky rivulets staining the once-pristine leather seat. His cock convulses in your pussy, waves of his release pulsing like fragmented aftershocks. It hits the right spot, bringing you to that little death, your walls contracting from the dizzying pleasure he gives you.

With that stupid and blissed-out smile on your face, you lean back, collapsing on top of him. You soon find yourselves curled together on the backseat, a mess of sweaty and satisfied limbs.

His silver hair is matted against his forehead, and you reach up and brush them away. He catches your hand and presses a loving kiss to the back of it.

He props his head up on one arm, as you draw lazy circles on the firm planes of his chest. You whisper sweet nothings to each other, as you had on the night you met.

"You should rile me up more often, you little brat," he smirks crookedly.

You roll your eyes, but peck his lips anyway with a cheeky smack, "Isn't that all I do, baby?"

"Sure, kitten," he says, "and I fucking love you for it."

"Oh, baby," you purr, and your wayward fingers reach down to stroke his half-erect cock. His brows raise in amusement, but it only takes several good pumps before his shaft is again taut from your touch. You whisper, "I love you too."

And so the second round begins.

Taglists (refer here to be added)

Vhagar - @gwaynehightowerswhore @kravitzwhore @litchifaerie @g-cf2020 @9431789 @noxytopy @fan-goddess @m00n5t0n3 @diannnnsss @nsr-15 @the-awkward-barbie @rockstwrsz @yellowstonebaby @urdeftonesgrrrl @eddieslut69 @callsigncrushx @starwarsdinosaur @qweq-6802 @tulips2715 @hotdismylife @joyismm @itseunaimonia @just-mj-or-not @crystal-siren @zaldrizzes @all-for-aemond @ajantanijhum @darylandbethfanforever9 @vhwyrm @purpleskiesandroses @technicallystrangereview @jjkysnk

Targaryen - @angel6776 @different-tale-student @binchissimo @teasweeter @raging-panda @rhaenys-nyra @gelacat0413 @simplymurdock @yariany02 @barnes70stark @stupid---person @lonan-hane @thescooponsof @donalesaa @rosey1981 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @wabi-sabi1090 @girl-lost-not-found

P.S. eagle-eyed readers can probably spot the nod to chemical override ;)

[loud-sturniolos]

“MOVE ON”

Chris finally decides to try get over his ex

Warnings: Mentions of Y/N, fluff I guess, reader being a small fashion/makeup influencer, slightly shy!reader, mentions of drinking, kinda a cliffhanger

A/N: I have not wrote in a while, I’ve been focused on writing my book and not fanfics, so this may be quite shit.

A/N2: Part 2 has been posted, it is at the top of my page:)

It had been 2 months.

2 whole months since Chris’s ex had broken up with him.

And he was still moping around, barely leaving the house, and annoying his brothers, and they’d had enough.

Chris looked out the car window with a confused look, currently dressed in some basic jeans and a white shirt with a hoodie around his waist. Matt had told him, “Dress casual, we’re going out to eat,” but when the car pulled up in front of a lively house, with music blasting so loud you could hear it down the street, Chris realised he’d been tricked.

“Dude, I’m not going into that party.” He told Matt firmly as he turned off the car. “Yes, you are.” Was Matt’s response, leaving no room for argument. Nick butted in as he opened Chris’s car door for him, “You’ve been annoying us all week with your constant whining. Now you can go annoy others.” Chris rolled his eyes, but reluctantly got out the car and followed his brothers into the loud house.

As they walked in, Chris and his brothers were greeted by a lot of familiar faces. He gave a few waves and polite hello’s, but eventually snuck off to get a drink.

Walking up to the makeshift bar in the kitchen, his eyes immediately landed on the case of Pepsi’s left open, and he grabbed one before heading out the backdoor for some quiet. When he stepped out, he was met with a cool breeze, and then he saw a girl stood on the other side of the decking, drinking some colourful drink. He quickly tried to look away, not in the mood to talk to some girl he didn’t know, but she turned around and caught his eye. He gave a polite, but awkward, smile. “Hi.” He said, trying not to let his lips curve up at the sight of her shy smile. “Hi. You’re one of those triplets, right?” “Yeah, one of those triplets.” he repeated with a slight grin. “Which one are you? No, wait, let me guess.” She said, stepping up to Chris for a closer look.

Chris stared down at her as she tried to figure out who he was, giving her a lopsided grin as his hair falls over his eyes. “Are you.. Matt?” She finally says, making him let out a small chuckle and shake his head. “Nope. You want another guess, or?” He teased slightly, “..Are you Chris?” She guesses again, making him nod as he takes a sip of his Pepsi. “Yep. I’m Chris. And you are..?” He says, now feeling slightly bad he doesn’t know who this girl is. “I’m Y/N.” She says with a little smile, then quickly, and shyly, adds, “I’m not that known. But I do fashion and make up stuff on YouTube.” “Oh, that’s cool. I’ll have to check you out some time.” He responds, his eyes flicking down to her lips as her tongue darts out to wet them. He looks back at her eyes, then smirks a little at noticing her eyes flit down to his own lips.

After a while of talking, the two were now sat on the edge of the deck, watching the sun set together. Y/N was now in Chris’s hoodie, since it was cold, at least that’s what Chris kept telling himself. Chris finally piped up after a while of silence, “Soo.. how old are you?” He looked down at her head resting on his bicep. “Just turned 21.” She responded, lifting her head to look at him, and that’s when they realised how close they were. Her eyes flicked to Chris’s lips, and Chris’s flicked to hers, and then before either could say or do anything, Chris leaned forward.

Her lips were soft against his, her hands going to the ends of his hair and tugging gently. Chris groaned into her mouth, his own hands grabbing her hips and pulling her to straddle his lap. She moaned into his mouth at the sudden movement, and tried to press her tongue into his mouth. But Chris finally realised what he was doing.

Without warning, Chris pulled away and pushed her off him, standing up. “A.. are you okay? Did I do something wrong?” Y/N asked nervously, standing up and fidgeting with the sleeves of her his hoodie. “I have to go.” Is all Chris murmured in response, before quickly heading back inside. Y/N stood there awkwardly for a moment, before realising she still had his hoodie. She grabbed her glass and quickly followed him inside, pushing through the crowd of drunk and tipsy YouTubers, desperately trying to find Chris.

She finally saw the back of his head, and tried to push towards him, but the music changed, and suddenly another influencer friend grabbed her and dragged her to the dance floor, and Chris disappeared from view.

A/N(again): I wrote this in half an hour, and then Tumblr glitched and deleted the whole ending so I had to redo it😭

This is not proofread, if you see any, please inform me of any mistakes, misspellings, etc.

I will probably do pt.2 tomorrow, if you guys want it:)

[whosjunglejim4322]

Reconcile- E.M (S)

Smut!, fluff because uhm how could I not, angst! cause you guys are pent up from stress and this is basically a make up sex fic teehee, mentions of weed, brief arguing, Y’all just desperate and gross, Eddie fucks you till you cry and talks you through it like the slut he is, he cums inside of you, makes sure to fuck all that attitude away, PUSSY EATING, very graphic descriptions of passionate n nasty intercourse

You hadn’t foreseen this happening.

Sure, you and Ed’s have gotten into little disputes before. Petty, insignificant quarrels about whether or not the other person actually took out the garbage or who would pay next date night. Two years is still short to some, for you and Eddie it felt like forever and yesterday all in the same universe. Heavenly, and mundane.

But this is a different beast all together. This morning makes day two that you two have had this weird, suffocating energy between both of you. The antagonist of this situation, is undoubtedly the conversation that was had at Steve’s weekend hangout.

A few hits from a joint, a shot or two of tequila and goofy sentences being passed around between two best friends. You and Robin being the spectators, content in your own little bubble, puffing on a spliff of your own. Heavy, fluffy blankets kept you warm, gave you weight to lean on when your head began to feel like it might float away.

The Christmas lights and the hum of the deep freezer in the corner of Steve’s basement almost distracted you completely in your haze, until it didn’t. Until Chrissy Cunningham came up. Until it was an innocent giggling fit about whether or not Chrissy ever had a crush on Eddie, the oxymoron in and of itself.

“Imagine that ever happening,” Steve chuckled, lightheartedly, taking a sip of his Diet Pepsi. “can’t say I can’t see it. She wanted you for sure, dude.”

Your ears twitched. Eyes thinning into inquisitive slits. Nothing about Steve’s tone was meant to be rude, or disrespectful, but the nature of the comment itself felt awkward and uncomfortable underneath your skin.

You almost turned your attention back to the Walkman blasting David Bowie. Almost.

“I saw her the other day, she came in for an oil change. Honestly, I never would’ve even thought she wanted me,” Eddie takes another rip of his bong. “But then she asked me if I do at home visits. Said she wanted to catch up with me.”

Maybe your reptilian brain overreacted. Or, maybe it didn’t. Honestly, you don’t blame yourself completely for the way you reacted after that statement. Nothing else he said after that mattered. All you could hear was your heartbeat in your own ears. Loud, thunderous

“I told her I wouldn’t do that, obviously.”

White noise.

And not only were you intoxicated, but you were already burnt out from work and school, touch starved from not having any time with your boyfriend as of late. A period of your current reality that you know will pass as all things do in life; but it was too much. This hangout was supposed to be somewhat intimate, something for you to both do together. A simplicity that normally wouldn’t even have to be mentioned. You and Eddie exist on the same axis.

The blanket became too heavy and the smoke in the room threatened to choke you further. You all but threw the fluffy cover off of you and stormed out. You heard Robin call after you, and Eddie. A pair of voices that meshed together like the drum line in a song that is so in sync with the guitar chorus that you can barely decipher it. The steps spin, but you manage to stay upright.

Cold November air chilled your face, your neck. You too a deep breath in while marching to the van parked just a few feet away on the newly slabbed pavement of Steve’s home. His parents are at their lake house so often that Steve claims their Hawkins residence as his own.

Predictably, a heavy thump of boots followed closely behind you. The scrape of worn soles and the squeak of an old leather jacket. A billow of smoke follows him, clings onto him like jasmine and rosemary to the freshly bathed. Your back felt like the warning signs at a crossroad. He felt helpless.

“Baby, hey,” he sounded breathless, desperate and confused. He’s never seen you so upset that you’d just walk out unprompted. “stop walking god dammit, please.”

You stopped reluctantly, the tears of frustration in your waterline blurring your vision of the violet, cloudless skyline. A wide, warm palm touched your shoulder and the heat seared you even through your hoodie. You flinched away instinctively, sore in your limbs from your own concoction of emotions. When you met his eyes, they were wide. Like a deer staring down the barrel of a gun in its own home.

Your face must have been something to see. A scowl, a mirror of sadness reflected in his umber eyes. Angry. He’d never seen you look at him that way. It felt like having his intestines twisted between two cold hands.

“You didn’t tell me that happened.”

You stated it plainly, but spitefully in nature. Your voice cracked and it made a brewing tear spill over your waterline and down the plump of your cheek. He had the overwhelming urge to comfort you, but knew he couldn’t. Knew you would likely flinch away like you did five seconds ago and he didn’t think he would physically be able to bear you trying to get away from him again.

He didn’t exactly know what was making you so upset. The conversation wasn’t anything he wouldn’t have said in front of you, which is why all of it was said in front of you. Perhaps his own intoxication made it hard to fully understand the velocity of his words, what they meant and how they could’ve been interpreted from your point of view.

“I didn’t think it was important.” His thick brows scrunched and deepened the wrinkle between them. You looked like your eyes might bulge out of your head.

You nearly choked on your own spit, the words to your reply getting caught square in the middle of your throat; and so you said nothing. You stepped forward, and then past him. And he realized too late that you were walking away from him.

“I’m gonna ask Steve to take me home.”

He was too stunned to speak. To react. To stop you, to plead for you to tell him what he did wrong. Or at least how to fix it. He felt himself crumble on the inside, like his bones were made of ash.

When he got back to the trailer that night, you weren’t there. And that’s when it all really set in. That he fucked up. For the past two weeks you’ve been here with him, playing house while Wayne caught a gig further up north. He thought, he thought that when you said home, maybe you meant here. With him.

He called that night, almost ten times. You answered on the eighth.

“I’m at my apartment Ed’s, I’m fine. I don’t want to argue, or talk. I just need to be by myself right now.”

He felt paralyzed by the pang in his chest. More so, he felt angry. Genuinely angry, and not just at himself, but selfishly, at you.

“Fine, glad you’re safe.”

He nearly broke the fucking landline.

Your eyes have to adjust to the brightness of your living room. Well, your bedroom, slash living room, slash kitchen. A studio in Hawkins is relatively affordable, but they aren’t lying when they say it’s a studio. The events from yesterday scream in your head instantly, along with the pounding of your pulse. Your bed is almost unfamiliar at this point, the blankets not worn enough, the sheets the scent of fresh dryer sheets instead of you and Eddie’s shared scent.

The beeping of your answering machine pulls you back down to reality, though not one you want to participate in currently. Unfortunately, you have no other choice.

They’re all from Eddie of course, and now that you’re not high you feel those wounds from the night before coming back, sticking you in the chest, ribs, liver. Along with the pain, you feel guilty. For your less than mature reaction. Though you know you can’t blame yourself, not having ever been in that situation. You’re human and reacted as so. But he’s your Eddie.

You listen to the last message, sent twenty five minutes ago.

“I’m coming over in thirty minutes, I don’t care if you don’t want to see me. We are going to talk this out. I love you.”

You huff in frustration, though you can’t say you aren’t relieved. Relieved that he’s coming, that he’s not giving up over some quarrel about Chrissy Cunningham. You have a tendency to think the entire world is caving in around you upon one minor inconvenience. This disruption in your daily routine feels like Armageddon.

You have time to brush your teeth and rinse the remaining paste off of your mouth before your front door opens. If you didn’t recognize his footsteps so well, it might be off putting to have someone just waltz into your home.

The bathroom door is open, so he spots you immediately, slipping off his worn in boots and placing them beside the door. He takes his leather jacket off and puts it over the stool that sits at your kitchen island. It makes your face hot, still. The ease in which you two have melded into each others lives. Even if you’re angry at him.

“I don’t know what to say, Ed’s.” It’s a lie. You walk past him to the kitchen and open the fridge, hiding from his gaze as you pretend to search for something. He clears his throat and you reluctantly close the refrigerator door, staring at the floor and backing yourself against the sink.

“I just - you’ve never left. Without telling me. Or talking to me. And, fuck I-“ he’s stammering already, taking steady breaths and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t think I had to tell you about an insignificant interaction with Chrissy Cunningham.”

You scoff, although it’s more of a giggle. And he looks at you like you’ve just lost your mind. Rare, for Eddie Munson to think someone else has lost their mind.

“Well you and Steve sure seemed to enjoy talking about it. You both were pretty giddy discussing whether or not Chrissy wanted to, or, sorry -“ you’re being defensive. Rude. You can’t help it. “wants to fuck you. Why would I want to hear about that? Why would I want to hear you guys talk about whether or not you both can see you and Chrissy together? Does that not sound incredibly fucked up, Ed’s?”

So much for not talking. Now it’s spilling out like a cracked flower vase. Your chest is heaving rapidly, face and body hot with anger. Your arms are crossed across your chest, a protection against whatever it is he might say, despite the fact that you’re the one who’s being rhetorical.

He shoves his ringed fingers into his hair, scratching his scalp and pulling lightly at the roots as he closes his eyes, contemplating. Seeing things through your eyes, attempting to. He winces.

“That’s not what we were trying to say,” he bites his cheek. “I mean I know it doesn’t matter what we were trying to say, the conversation shouldn’t have happened, but I can’t take it back. For fucks sake.”

He’s murmuring to himself, rubbing his rough palms over his tired face. He’s wearing one of your favorite tee shirts of his to steal. Iron Maiden. The sleeves are short enough to reveal the splattering of ink that crawls up his biceps. When his muscles move underneath his skin, the ink moves with them. It’s captured your attention suddenly, and now you’re raking your eyes over his entire figure.

Familiar black sweats cling onto his lower half. They fit perfectly on his lithe waist, loose on the rest. Except for his ass. He has a really cute ass. And these sweats specifically accentuate the shape before billowing down his thighs.

“Baby? You with me?”

The low timbre of his voice shakes you from your reverie. You’ve simmered off, the anger replaced with a different heat. It’s been too long since the two of you have just been together, this fight might be the most communication you’ve had in the past week due to your jobs, and school. Or the worries of the world, the overwhelming need to sleep when you aren’t working, to work when you aren’t sleeping.

You’ve forgotten about each other. Briefly, but not inevitably. Never that. You feel like you may collapse.

“I’m- yeah I’m with you.”

You let out a sigh, uncrossing your arms. You look and sound as defeated as you feel. He can’t pretend to not have noticed your silky, thin sleeping gown, but he is just a man. And your nipples are hard underneath the garment and he has never not thought you’re one of the most beautiful creatures he’s ever seen. You haven’t worn it in a while, preferring his clothes to sleep in since you’ve been staying with him. He missed seeing you like this.

He steps closer. Tentatively, afraid you might run away from him. You sense his hesitancy and a piece of your heart breaks, the piece where he lives. You meet his eyes, silently inviting him, glancing from his mouth then back up to his softening gaze. You watch his Adam’s Apple bob in his throat.

“I’m sorry.” He says, earnestly. His hands threaten to tremble when you reach out and grab them, heavy in your own. He hovers above you the closer he gets, your limbs connecting in a symbiotic way. One you feel the others skin, you can’t get away from it. Not until you’re pressed together, belly to belly, your chin tilted upward.

“You - ugh.” You can’t get words out anymore. They dissolve in your larynx and your head falls, the need to cry or scream or kiss him an overwhelming choice.

“I know baby, I know. I’m sorry.” He pats down your hair, rough thumbs caressing the softness of your cheeks. He pulls your face upwards again, staring down at you with regret, adoration, hunger.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have just left.”

He leans closer, till you smell the coffee on his breath and the hazelnut creamer alike. Your noses bump and rub against the other, his thick eyelashes fanning across his own cheekbones - casting a fluttery shadow.

“It’s okay now. We’re okay now.” He says it softly, just between the little space left between you two. “Let me take care of it. Please.” He closes the gap.

Some people assume it’s not supposed to feel as good as it does, kissing someone who’s lips you’ve mapped out like an atlas. That couldn’t be further from the truth, because kissing Eddie feels like being consumed.

And not just metaphorically, because it’s evident in the nips to your bottom lip, the sucking of your tongue whenever he feels it lick his teeth; that your small period of separation, and longer period of not having indulged each other, has weighed heavily on him as well. He’s starving.

You’re overtaken within seconds by the veracity of his mouth, your fingers taking purchase in the curls at his crown. Smacks and kisses and wet noises fill the small space, and the center of your stomach swells with a simmering heat. A reminder of how neglectful you both have been. Your nipples harden against him, as his dick twitches between his legs.

You feel nervous. Tentative. Excited.

His hands implore you like a new discovery, grasping at your back, and then down the sensitive slopes of your sides and over the plushness of your hips. Through the silky nightgown the sensation is riveting, enough to drive a person insane. You arch against him, and a whimper escapes your mouth into his throat.

“Mmm, mhm.” He groans.

“Eddie,” it’s a cry, wanton sound that makes him rut himself against you instinctively. Anything to relieve you. Anything to relieve himself. “baby.”

He smiles against your mouth, pecking it a few times before departing only for a second to see your kiss bitten lips, his and your spit coating your mouth. Your blown out pupils. He mirrors your appearance, like a wild creature.

“Never again,” his index fingers knuckle strokes the inside of your thigh, and you shudder, holding onto his broad shoulders for an anchor. You separate your legs without thinking. “we will never go through this again. I’m gonna make sure of it.”

Three knuckles stroke your pubic mound, then down your covered slit where dampness threatens to leak. Your fingernails grip his shirt, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted in anticipation. He’s so warm, so palpable. You want him to bury himself inside of you.

He’s in front of you, and then he’s not. You blink, and hair tickles your thighs like you’re frolicking through an overgrown field. Strong, rough hands lift the delicate silk of your nightie until it’s being bunched between ringed fingers above your navel. He’s on his knees, devout for you.

You gasp when his tongue broadens against your center. Your panties are just enough barrier to make you wanna cry out in desperation, while also offering enough sensation to not dare stop for even a moment to pull them off. You’re at his mercy. Or is he at yours? Neither of you know anymore, and it’s not important.

Not when he gets a taste of you. Not when he peers up at you between lust sodden lashes and sees you looking down at him like you’re about to crumble. Your knees shake and he bunches the nightie in one fist instead of two, placing his free hand on the back of your thighs to steady you while he soaks your underwear with the spit from his tongue.

The shape of your slit and the plump lips around it begins to show its phantom form through the material from the soaking. He sucks, prods with the tip of his wet muscle.

“Ed’s, fuck.” Your voice is so weak. His cock weeps in his sweats, dribbling with copious amounts of precum. It’s torturous to not touch himself but he’s too focused on watching you, pleasing you. You hums against your mound, mocking you.

He pulls the elastic to the side, not patient enough to take them off all the way. You get to see his face for a split second, cherry red cheeks and a messy halo of hair and stubble on his chin. And then, you feel it.

His nose keeps your lips separated, his tongue already splayed against the soft, sensitive flesh between them. You’re slick and sticky and coating the lower half of his face, though you have trouble grasping onto the helms of reality when he’s licking your pussy like this. He shakes his head from side to side, tongue still flat until he’s spreading your thighs farther, so that he can lick your honey from the source.

“Hold it.” He mumbles, struggling to hand the falling material of your night gown to your shaking hands, though you get the memo when it threatens to cover his head completely. You use one hand to hold it, and the other to tug at his hair.

You can barely hear anything another than the sloppy wetness of his mouth working on you, and the sound of your own heartbeat, but you’re sure you’re whining. You can feel the rawness of your throat as you let your head fall back and cry to the ceiling, feeling the need to tear up.

You grip the roots of his locks, rocking against his mouth like you’ve got no other choice. He hums, encouraged by every squeak and moan that comes out of you, by every drip of your cunt and tensing of your muscles.

He doesn’t care that your thighs are squeezing around his head, or that you can barely hold yourself together. You’re using his face like second nature and his cock weeps in his pants. He feels himself throbbing in tandem with the pulsing of your hole around his tongue.

Then he pulls your lips apart with his thumbs, revealing the pink bud that resides underneath your hood, suckling and coating it with enough spit to drip onto the floor.

“Oh god,” you pant “m’gonna cum. Please don’t stop please please please.” 

You’re throttled, and not just by the pleasure but by how fast you’re descending into your own madness. You can’t hear much of anything, see anything but the back of your own eyelids - and your boyfriend is using half of his strength to keep your body upwards as you threaten to wilt.

He doesn’t stop, per your request but to your ultimate demise. You feel yourself leaking as your clit throbs from the aftershocks of a powerful - much needed and thoroughly missed, orgasm.

You think you might pass out, but he feels the trembling in your body and despite his need to keep going until you’re completely done for, all but comatose- he stops.

Through your clouded and hazy senses, your hands tug at his face, his head, his neck. Lazily you attempt to pull him up from his knees, and it’s not your strength that does it, it’s his own. But he lets you believe you pulled him to your mouth, before he even has the chance to wipe your essence off. Not that he cares to.

Your tongues collide in a messy exploration, he’s rough and saccharine and sweet all at once. Your paw at him like you’ve never felt him before, like he didn’t just have his mouth on your most private of parts.

“I need you in me.” You slur the words between open mouthed kisses. He’s pressed so flush against you that you can feel his dick throbbing, and you’re not sure if the wetness is your own or his. Perhaps both.

You’re hungry for it. He’s still starving, and your fingers clumsily pull the waistband of his sweats down until they’re pooled at his ankles. You wrap your hand around the thick member, angrily red at the tip, veins bulging from either side. The thatch of curly hair at his base is covered by his shirt but you don’t have the energy to remove it- to do anything other than ogle at the blood rushing through him, the feel of his pulse through his manhood. He throws his head back for a split second, taking a deep breath.

You turn around, facing the sink and resting your cheek against the cool metal of the edge. You offer yourself to him like this, an invitation in the form of a leaking cunt and buckling knees. His hands, rough and wide pull this godforsaken nightgown up and over the swell of your ass, knuckles grazing the back of your thighs in the process.

You want to look at him but you’re far too flustered, ironically. It’s completely idiotic to still be embarrassed at your own need for your own boyfriend - but someone as beautiful as Eddie doesn’t come around very often. Getting to do this feels like retribution.

“You’re so pretty,” he groans, out of breath. He crudely spits on his cock, you can hear the slick sounds of his precum mixing with his saliva as he strokes himself a few times, one hand on your left hip while he guides his mauve tip to your slit.

“I’m gonna fuck all that attitude away baby.”

The stretch is jarring and unexpected, but the sounds you both make as he sticks himself passed your gummy entrance isn’t. You grip the counter, and he leans his weight over you so that he can mouth at your shoulders while he pushes himself in to the hilt- kissing your cervix before his cock moved around it.

“Yeah?” He taunts, hair tickling your back and lips smearing kisses against your nape. “You’re so goddamn wet, this is all you needed huh?”

He’s genuine within the ruggedness of his voice. Within seconds he’s pulling himself out and shoving himself back in with something fierce driving him. He’s unforgiving in his pace once he gets into a comfortable stance, kicking his sweats off of his ankles and planting his feet behind you.

It’s a symphony of sticky, wet sounds, and grunts with compositions of skin against skin in your small kitchen. It’s been so long since you’ve felt him, since he’s felt you. He’s not just fucking you from the back, he’s mounting you - panting lewdly in your ear while his hands snake themselves around your shoulders.

You cry out, nothing coherent leaving your mouth. Your poor cunt was still contracting from the orgasm he gave you with his mouth when shoved himself inside of you, and now that little spongey spot is being brutally massaged over and over again with each stroke.

“That’s - s-so - good.” Your words are staccato, followed by petulant whines. You’re thankful for his hit breath on your neck, the groans leaving him, the weight of his body behind you. He’s close while still delivering a delicious punishment - a fucking that’s meant to make you forget about anything that’s happened this past week.

“Awe baby, it feels good hmm? You - fucking hell-“

His balls tighten and he knows he’s gonna cum soon, he’s too caught up in how you’re squeezing around him, throbbing from the inside out with your admiration for him. You try to reach back and touch him, but he holds your arms in front of you, a sort of embrace and restraint all in one.

“need to cum baby, need to show you how much I love you. Need to fill you - oh baby - need to fill you all the way. That’s it - there you go there you go, I know.”

He kisses your cheek where a tear falls down, your knees beginning to tremble again in tandem with his own. He ruts and ruts and ruts, your cream coating his cock, your warmth swallowing him whole.

He pulls out, and you think you might start weeping, till he turns you around by your waist and licks the inside of your parted lips. He hiked your leg up around his lithe waist, bends his knees and maneuvers his hips forward so that he can slide back into you.

Now that he can see your face, and you can see his, you both feel cathartic.

You hang onto his shoulders, clawing at his curls and he holds your face, damp lips centimeters away from your own while your foreheads rest against each other. You look down to watch him disappear inside of you, and you marvel at it. Your juices and the sounds they make, how pretty his dick looks coated in your release and his own pre ejaculate.

“M’so fucking deep,” he’s shaking now, sweat beading down his neck. His bottom lip quivers and you begin to realize how this must feel for him as well. How badly you both needed the other. “it feels so fucking good, so good so good so good.”

He’s babbling and you pull his mouth to yours again, suckling on his tongue. With some foreign strength, you use your voice.

“Please cum, I love you Eddie. I want you to cum for me please please, I can’t take it. Cum for me cum for me cum for me I love you.”

He thinks he might cry, he’s so fucking deep when you wrap your arms around him, when your hips are connected so closely that you can’t tell where one of you begins and the other one ends - when the sweet lullaby that is your voice serenades him, begs him to let go.

“Oh god, oh fuck I’m - fuuuuck.”

He tightens, stuttering inside of you while small gasps of pleasure leave him like hiccups. You inhale the scent of his hair, feel the rise and fall of his breath from between his shoulder blades. You’re both twitching, barely standing. A mess, and certainly a sight to see.

He stays like that for a few moments, just enough for all of his cum to dribble out from the tip and into you. When he pulls out, the sound is audible and crude, and he swears to himself he will clean the mess on your kitchen floor.

You don’t know who kisses who first.

Both of you go for the others neck, cheeks, forehead. Gently, with enough love to fill an entire universe itself. It’s a juxtaposition to the way you just had each other. It’s love. Pure, unadulterated, sickeningly sweet to the melancholy.

“I’m staying here tonight,” he kisses your eyelids, then your nose, out of breath. “and I’m gonna make breakfast in the morning. We are never letting this happen again.”

You scratch his scalp.

“Which part? Cause-“ he rolls his eyes, smiling boyishly. Enough to show his dimples, flash his teeth.

“You know which part, I’ll give you whatever you want. But I’m never going this long without being around you. Not ever.”

He’s devout, sincere in a way that is irrevocable. You don’t argue, don’t wince, don’t make a face. You nod, suckling his bottom lip.

You listen.

[emeraldgreenbeautiesstu]

written for this request : matt x hooters girl, i’m thinking the triplets are recurring customers that only come to see her because matt thinks she’s hot. (pls pls pls pls! make it smutty!)

warnings : dom!matt, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), oral (male receiving) degradation, public (kinda?) sex.

lowercase intended.

a/n : this is my first time writing smut so right now i'm just testing out the waters, thanks for the request! and as always, feedback is appreciated!

-

y/n had been working at a hooters in la for about four months and it was definitely an interesting job. and it paid good. she tended to rack up the most tips out of all of her coworkers, being the hottest one. She had double d’s and a nice ass, as well as sunkissed skin, and caramel brown hair. she was used to old shriveled patrons hitting on her by now, but she wasn't used to younger people coming in as much. but recently, a group of three men had been coming in about once a week for about a month and a half now, and the change of scenery was a big step up from the wrinkly perverts who she typically served. she recognized the boys to be youtubers, the sturniolo triplets. y/n had never watched their videos, but she knew enough about them to know they post the videos in their car, and that 12 year old girls go crazy over them.

y/n was nearing the end of her shift with only two hours left, when the hot regulars walked in. she found them all attractive, but the quiet one was her favorite. she watched as they sat in her section as they always do, smiling to herself. y/n made her way to their table, swaying her hips and making her tits bounce slightly as she pulled out her notepad and pen. it was a tactic she used to get more tips. “hey yall, welcome to hooters! can i get yall something to drink?” her sweet southern accent rang out.

the one she recognized to be nick spoke up saying, “i'll have a dr. pepper, and they'll have pepsis.” he said, pointing to his brothers. y/n noticed the one she recognized as matt had moved his hand to his pants, readjusting as he tried not to look at her. she smiled, loving the effect she had on him. shed be lying if she said she didnt think about him fucking her.

“ sure honey, ill be right back with that.” she walked away, making sure to ‘accidentally’ brush matts arm with her hip as she walked away.

time had past and the boys had gotten their food. y/n had passed their table, after teasing matt all night, brushing his hand as she gave him refills, hitting his shoulder when she laughed, etc. she soon noticed that matt had gotten up behind her. “im sorry did i forget something?” she said, turning around.

“something like that.” he grumbled, motioning for her to follow him as he walked past her. he led her to the back room, and pinned her against the wall, hands on either side of her head. “if you wanna act like a little slut all night, ill treat you like one.” he growled, not breaking eye contact. the breath hitched in y/ns throat, as she nodded. he broke away to lock the door. “knees.” matt said, sitting in a chair and manspreading, the bulge in his tight pants was extremely visible. she nodded, clenching her legs before getting on her knees, feeling matts gaze burning her skin. she unbuckled his belt, looking up to meet his eyes. she undid his pants and moved his boxers, his dick springing up to hit his stomach. he was big. “how bad do you want it sweetheart.” he inquired with his boston accent more prominent on the word 'sweetheart'.

“bad. so so bad.” y/n said, reaching for his aching member. she wrapped a hand around it, slowly pumping up and down his full length. matt got impatient. he grabbed her hair by the base of her ponytail, pushing her mouth onto his dick.

“you're such a slut y/n. working here with your tits on display? you know all the men here are starin, and you love it you whore. now you're blowing a costumer in the breakroom.” he growled, watching her pump up and down on his dick, his grip on her ponytail tight as he helped her bob. “s’pretty.”

he released into her mouth and she pulled off, starting to spit when matt said. “nup, good girls swallow it.” she did what she was told. she wanted to be a good girl. matt immediately pulled her up from the floor to a standing position, moving her to the wall once more. y/n stood dripping, when matt ripped her tiny shorts off, revealing no underwear. he smirked, seeing how soaked he was. “so wet already?”

“matt i need you.” she moaned out, taking matt by surprise. with no more words, he picked her up by her thighs and slammed into her, feeling her walls stretch. she yelped at the feeling, not even attempting to muffle her sounds as he aggressively thrusted in and out. after minutes of him absolutely rocking her shit, she moaned out “matt i- im gonna cum” the tension in her stomach having little to no give.

"you cum when i say you cum." he said, continuing to pound into her. he came again, pumping it into her. "dont wanna waste it now do we sweetheart?" he asked, realizing y/ns eyes were closed and her head was back. she responded with a weak 'mhm', he grabbed her chin with his thumb and index, pulling her face down to meet his. "answer me." he growled.

"no, we dont wanna waste it." she spat out. she came all over his dick, moaning as she couldnt hold it in any longer. they snapped out of their high when they heard a fist pounding on the door.

"whos in there!" the manager of the store shouted through the door.

shit.

a/n : tbh, probs could've done better but oh well! 🎀

[glass--beach]

we used to just throw around rofl like it was nothing. “Rolling On the Floor Laughing”… have you ever actually done that? have you ever laid your body on the carpet or the wood or whatever and just… rolled back and forth, “laughing out loud” the entire time? well, i just did. yeah, that’s right. i didn’t even mean to, it was a gut reaction, not planned at all. i wasn’t even thinking about that old internet abbreviation, i mean who out there even thinks about rofl now, we’ve moved onto new words, like, at this point even “lmao” just comes across detached or passive aggressive. anyway, it was a really weird thing to do but i had a good time i guess. actually i don’t know why i’m underselling it, i had a great time. an excellent one, even. honestly, you should go try it right now. like seriously, go try it, why not! roll on the floor and laugh out loud! *smiles warmly* did you do it? felt pretty good, huh? yeah? okay, let’s be real, i know you didn’t actually just do it. you just kept reading the post thinking i wasn’t gonna notice. mhm. whatever, i don’t even care, i’m not gonna go cry about it or anything. just keep on scrolling. go on. it’s just. am i not worth your time? do you hate me just kidding lol could you imagine if i was actually like that. i’m just playing pretend! just a joke. see, that’s something that’s cool about the Internet: you can be true to yourself OR you can be a little silly. you can even go back and forth, or sit somewhere in the middle, or go waaaay outside like off the charts like terra australis, like fuck binaries right? this shit isn’t “coke or pepsi” it’s not xbox vs playstation (which, i might add, has no games) it’s not red pill blue pill, it’s real life. aaaand that’s my post, hope you enjoyed it, see you next time everybody, have a nice day, don’t forget to drink water etc

[hotgirlssupportlando]

one day x lando norris

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader summary of series: a series following one day of every summer from 2016 onwards in y/n’s and landos lives, exploring their friendship and love for one another. of course some angst and fights along the way in this rollercoaster of emotions. a friends to lovers, growing up together kind of thing. summary of this part: the start of y/n and landos friendship/crush. y/n is bored at the eurocup where a stranger (lando) is suggesting a betting game to make her interested in the sport (and him). wc: 1,2k notes: im too obsessed with one day atm so just had to write a story inspired by it!! it’s very modified tho, and i haven’t decided yet if it will have the same ending, don’t know if i can handle that haha! also pls ignore the charles pic, couldn't find a better atm. hmu if you have any requests for any of the years x part two here

summer of 2016

Red Bull Ring, Austria

”please y/n, you’re 16 years old, can’t you go elsewhere and entertain yourself, you’re getting a bit annoying now” y/n’s dad told her whilst he was trying to fix the broken car.

”ugh, sure i’ll go for a walk then” y/n sighed and went to go for a walk around the paddock hoping to see something more interesting than broken cars. her friends were jealous that y/n could tag along her father around europe all summer watching the eurocup formula renault 2.0, but she wasn’t very impressed. despite having a father working as a mechanic and utterly interested in motorsport she hadn’t inherited any interested in the sport what so ever. but at least she could escape england and the rain for some time so it felt like a win although she sometimes felt like dying from boredom. 

y/n walked around the paddock and decided to facetime her friend y/f/n.

”please come and save me, austria is so fucking boring and where the hell are all the cute guys i was waiting for??” y/n proclaimed. 

”omg y/n stop it, you’re always nagging about everything, you should be happy!! nothing happens here either so might as well be in another country doing the same” y/f/n said as y/n entered a tent where they served drinks and snacks. while she was ordering she noticed a curly haired boy shaking his head whilst smiling her way but she just continued her conversation with y/f/n. after enough discussion about the lack of interest y/n had for the sport and talking about y/f/n new crush y/n ended the call, sat down and opened her pepsi in front of her. it took about five milliseconds before the curly haired boy reappeared, this time in the seat in front of her. 

”hi” the boy squealed. 

”…hi?” y/n said questioning what he wanted, she weren’t exactly in the bestest of moods so to say. 

”i heard you hated the eurocup and that you think every guy is ugly here, so here i am to prove you otherwise” he said grinning. y/n chuckled at the way the boy seemed to have no time to waste in proving her wrong. 

”and how are you supposed to do that? do you have a masterplan?” y/n asked looking amused.

”glad you asked! well first of all here i am so now you’ve at least seen one cute boy around the paddock so there’s one problem solved an-” the boy was interrupted with y/n’s laugh. she couldn’t help herself from laughing but tried to gesticulate with her hand that he could continue. 

with a smile he proceeded to tell the girl about a betting game that could make her interested in watching the races. y/n was immediately down for the idea because honestly she could’ve done anything at this moment to have some fun. they had to come up with one condition each for the bet and agreed on saying them at the same time so no-one could back out. the curly haired boy betted that he would stand on the podium on today’s race and y/n betted that he wouldn’t, easy as that. now to the conditions. the boy apparently had his condition already planned out so y/n panicked trying to come up with one quickly too. she looked around her and went with the first random idea she got. 

”okay so we’ll say them on three?” y/n asked getting a nod for an answer.

”one.. two.. three” 

”you’ll buy me-” y/n started before getting interrupted.

”you’ll give me a kiss” the boy said with a cheeky smile. 

”…a pepsi. WHOA! you’re wasting no time mister” y/n laughed out after finding out the big differences in the conditions given. she was followed by a laughter from the boy too who was unsurprisingly very pleased with the bet. y/n wasn’t disappointed either, the boy was indeed quite cute for being a driver but she couldn’t let him know that. imagine the hubris he would get then, in comparison what he already had. 

the pair shook hands and locked in the bet. they decided to meet up after the race either at the podium or at his team, depending on how the race went. y/n was excited and almost felt a little butterfly in her stomach getting loose. 

”see you later then…” the boy hesitated realizing he hadn’t asked her name.

”y/n l/n, and yours was?” she asked.

”lando norris, but there’s no need to remember that, you will see the name on the top of the podium later” he chuckled walking away to his team. 

y/n could only smile and shake her head while walking away too. 

—

”and lando norris takes his fourth victory in this seasons eurocup!!” the presenter shouts excitingly. 

y/n was smiling so big her dad had to check up on her, how she immediately had watched a whole race after watching exactly zero of them up until now this summer. y/n had no time to explain to him what was going on and started to run along the paddock until she reached the podium. she was so excited and nervous that she was about to burst, it was hard to believe that she was developing some kind of a crush to this random driver. 

because she had little to none sense of direction the celebration at the podium was already done and dusted when she reached it. a bit disappointed and confused she looked around to see if she could see lando somewhere. there was surprisingly many people running around here.

”looking for someone?” a familiar voice said and y/n turned around. there he was, a happy lando holding a trophy in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. she smiled and congratulated him partly for the victory and partly because he somehow got her interest in the sport for once. 

”i know it’s not nearly as good as a pepsi but you can have my flowers as a consolation prize” he said handing them to her. she took the flowers and admired them with a smile feeling her butterflies about to let loose. she collected some courage and looked up at his eyes before quickly looking at his lips and crashing onto them. the kiss took lando a bit with surprise but he was quick to answer it. with the hand not holding the trophy lando gently grabbed the back of y/n’s head, slowly deepening the kiss. the butterflies were officially out and about in y/n’s stomach. she tried so hard to hide the excitement but at the end she couldn’t resist smiling and therefore accidentally ending the kiss. slowly they pulled away from each other, leaving them both with blushing smiles on their lips. they looked at each other in silence for a moment before abruptly getting interrupted.

”lando! we’re taking pictures! come here now!” a member of his team shouted.

”well i guess i have to go then.. hope i’ll see you around” lando shyly told the girl.

”i hope so too” y/n stated not knowing the rollercoaster of joys and troubles they’d share in the future as friends and lovers. 

—

notes: feel free to give feedback and requests for future parts! x

[ravenncouture]

[corroded-hellfire]

Fic request idea baby: what about Eddie with a gf who used to have an ED but she's doing better now but he notices that she's starting to relapse like skipping meals and he brings it up to her and just angst to fluff

+ Hey if ur taking requests:

what about if Effie's gf randomly stops changing in front of him like she's getting into pj and she goes to the bathroom and then starts asking for the lights to be off during sex and he's super confused and asks her about it and basically angst bc she's trying to hide it but may be she had a slip during ED recovery?

+ Hi lovie a lil request! What about Eddie with a gf whose in eating disorder recovery like she used to struggle but it's been a few years since then and she's don't just fine but he notices she's starting to relapse?

These three requests seemed to overlap just perfectly. The beautiful and talented @munson-blurbs was kind enough to write these with me so go shower her with all the love 💚

Warnings: eating disorders, body image issues, relapse struggles. Please, if you want or need to talk to somebody, I'm always here.

Words: 1.5k

You’re fairly certain you’re living on the sun’s surface. 

Logic would say that you haven’t left Hawkins, but the temperature outside begs to differ. 

“Christ, it’s like 1,000 degrees in here,” Eddie mumbles, cracking open a cold can of Pepsi and taking a swig. He plants a kiss on your forehead, careful not to disturb your reading. 

You smile but keep your nose buried in the bridal magazine Nancy had bought for you. Page after page of wedding dresses had you swimming in a sea of white, each more beautiful—and expensive—than the last. 

Oh, well. At least it would give you an idea of what to look for at your bridal appointment in a few weeks. 

What truly caught your eye was an article tucked towards the back of the magazine. Its title boldly declares, “Shedding for the Wedding: Lose that Weight and Look Great!” 

You shouldn’t read it. It’ll only upset you, only bring back the bad thoughts and routines and restrictions that you’d fought so hard to overcome. And yet you’re drawn to it, eyes scanning each fad diet for one that might help you. 

No. Yes. No. Yes. Put the magazine down. Stop reading the diet tips and comparing yourself to the models. 

But they’re so pretty and so skinny. If Eddie saw them, he might not even want to marry you anymore. Not when he saw how beautiful women were supposed to look in wedding dresses. 

Maybe losing a few pounds wouldn’t hurt. One diet couldn’t be so bad. It would be temporary, just until the wedding. 

It was totally fine. 

“What are we thinking for dinner tonight, babe?” Eddie rifles through the pantry and pulls out two boxes of pasta. “We have bowties and rigatoni. I’m personally more of a bowtie man myself, but it’s your call.”

You shake your head. “I’m good. Just gonna have some soup.” Reaching around him, you pluck a can of Progresso off of the shelf. 

“Soup?” Eddie wrinkles his nose in confusion. “It’s hotter than Satan’s tits outside.”

You shrug, trying to play it off casually. “Period craving.”

“You’re not on your period.”

“Well, PMS.”

Something nags at you—if you have to hide your new soup diet from your husband-to-be, maybe it’s not a good idea. Maybe you should put the can away and make pasta instead. But then you remember those gorgeous models, so svelte and sculpted and perfect. 

Soup it is. 

It’s harder to ignore the problem as more symptoms of the illness start to return. The first time you’d gathered up your pajamas and taken them into the bathroom with you, Eddie just assumed you were going to take a shower. When you emerged with bone-dry hair not two minutes later, he was puzzled. But he didn’t say anything, not wanting to come across as overprotective or overbearing. Maybe there was some simple excuse and he didn’t want to make you feel like you have to answer to him about every little thing. 

Eddie can’t ignore that there’s a problem anymore when you slip back into one of your old habits that has always broken his heart. Sex was now lights off and you kept your shirt on. Eddie wanted to see every part of you, touch every part of you. He was going to be your husband and the fact that you didn’t want him to see this part of you—that he has made very clear in the past that he fucking loves—disheartens him. 

Stress begins to build up within Eddie. He feels like he’s toeing the line because he doesn’t want to sound accusatory, but he also knows something is going on with you. And he has a pretty good idea of what it is. You try to hide how you pinch at your stomach and thighs, but he sees. The way you measure your wrists with your fingers all throughout the day. He wonders if you even realize you’re doing it, or if it’s reflexive at this point. 

Though you never mention it, you always have your green journal around the kitchen. Eddie respects your privacy enough not to go through it, but reaching for the keys over your shoulder one evening he notices that you’re making a list of what you’ve eaten that day. His stomach sinks as yet another familiar pattern emerges from the days when your disorder was at its worst. Your fiancé is coming closer to his breaking point and he still doesn’t know what to do or even who to go to about this. 

The final straw though is when you turn down girls’ night with Nancy and Robin at the Cheesecake Factory. You lived for nights out with your two best friends. They knew you almost as well as Eddie did though, so he knew you wouldn’t be able to sit down at a restaurant with them and bullshit your way out of not eating a proper meal like you should. 

Eddie knows now he has to say something. Anything, really. When you walk out of your shared bedroom in sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, Eddie chews on his bottom lip as he mentally prepares for the conversation he knows needs to happen. 

The moment you sit down on the couch, Eddie sits next to you. You reach for the remote but your hand doesn’t even make it to the piece of plastic before Eddie speaks.

“Can we, um, talk?”

“About what?” you ask, sitting back against the couch cushions. 

Your fiancé leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He rubs his hands together and his tongue pokes out of his pouty pink lips like it does whenever he’s concentrating on something. 

“I’m worried about you, babe,” he finally says. “You’re not yourself.” 

Eddie doesn’t miss the way you reflexively shrink in on yourself.

“I’m just stressed with wedding stuff,” you say. 

“That’s why you didn’t hang out with Nancy and Robin?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows. 

“Mhm.”

“And all the pinching and not eating and not wanting me to see you naked? Is that because of wedding stress, too?”

You turn away from him and pull your knees to your chest, but he moves to face you again. “Baby, I know something’s wrong. And the last time I saw you like this, it was because…”

“I told you, I’m fine,” you snap. “I’m just stressed. Maybe if you spent more time helping me plan and less time planning stupid campaigns for a game you played back in high school, you’d understand.”

The accusation is unfair, and you know it. Sure, you’ve been doing most of the planning, but he’s been there every step of the way.

Eddie winces at your harsh tone. He looks like he has a rebuttal but gives up after a moment “Fine. Let’s just go to bed.”

Guilt from your outburst wracks your body and holds sleep hostage. After tossing and turning for a little while, you hear soft cries coming from Eddie’s side of the bed. 

“Eds?” Your heart leaps into your chest. “What’s going on?” You give him a hug from behind, latching on like a koala to a tree trunk until he turns to face you. 

Even in the darkness, you can see the way his eyes shine with tears. “I know you relapsed and…and I don’t know what to do,” he manages through his sobs. “I don’t know how to help, so I just stand there like a goddamn idiot, but I can’t keep pretending like nothing’s wrong! I can’t keep pretending that you’re not hurting yourself!”

He knew. The whole time you thought you’d been protecting him from the truth, and he knew. 

You wipe at his cheeks, feeling the moisture on your palms. “I’m sorry.”

Eddie shakes his head. “‘S not your fault, I know it’s not, but…you need to get help for this. I can’t lose my girl.” He presses his lips to your forehead and lets them linger there, holding you as tightly as he can. “Please. Please.”

No. You need to lose weight. You need to look good; no, perfect in your dress. All eyes are going to be on you, and you can’t show a single flaw. 

The argument sits on your tongue, defensiveness ready to spring into action. But then you see his brokenness, his vulnerability as he unabashedly wears his heart on his sleeve. 

Skinny. Skinnier. Skinniest. 

But then—Eddie. 

Eddie, who laid his heart out for you. Who let down the walls he’d spent years building just so he could receive your love. Who felt your pain despite your best attempts to shield him from it. 

Maybe you weren’t ready to get better for yourself, but until you were, you could do it for him. 

You nod, pulling back and kissing him softly. “I will. I promise. First thing tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll wake you up the moment the sun rises.”

At this, you have to let out a small laugh. “The therapy clinic doesn’t open until nine.”

Eddie cradles your face in his calloused palms, leaning in to gently kiss your nose. “Then I’ll wake you up at nine.”

[ericshoney]

Pepsi Princess ~ Chris Sturniolo

The day five year old Y/n met three identical seven year old boys, was the day Chris Sturniolo became your best friend. Nick and Matt both became close with you as well, however you and Chris had much more in common. You were both outgoing, being the most chatty and of course, your love for Pepsi.

Years flew by and you were still close with the triplets, occasionally flying out to LA to see them before they flew to Boston and today was one of those days.

You had flown out to LA last week, spending some time with your favourite trio. You woke up in Chris' room and could hear screaming from the kitchen area. You knew the guys were filming a video so you took the time to have a nice hot shower, taking time to wash your hair as well.

Once you finished, you dried your hair and got dressed before heading upstairs to see the three cleaning up.

"Morning, what happened?" You asked as you walked over.

"Just another blind, deaf and mute baking challenge." Nick answered, making you laugh at the sight of icing on his t-shirt.

"We didn't wake you, did we?" Matt asked, feeling guilty to possibly have disturbed your sleep.

"No you didn't." You reassured him, making him smile.

"What did you make?" You questioned.

"Cupcakes! Wanna try one?" Chris asked you excitedly.

You smiled and nodded as he passed you one. You took a small bite, smiling at the sweet taste.

"It tastes good." You said, making the trio smile.

The three continued to clean up as you went to the fridge to grab a drink. You of course, wanted a Pepsi, but noticed only one left.

"There's only one Pepsi left." You informed the guys.

"We can go to the store later." Matt told you.

"You can have it." Chris said, making Nick and Matt gasp.

"What?" He called.

"Your letting someone drink the last Pepsi?" Matt asked.

"Not someone, my best friend who loves Pepsi as much as me." Chris answered. You smiled and took it out the fridge.

"Man, you must be special." Nick said, rolling his eyes, which made you giggle.

"She's my Pepsi Princess." Chris said, pulling you into a warm hug.

"That's kinda cute." Matt stated.

"And kinda sick." Nick added.

You both laughed as you happily drank the last Pepsi, being the Pepsi Princess you are.

[petew21-blog]

Sturniolo triple swap

MORNING

Chris woke up, groggy. He yawned and strechted his arms, feeling a bit different this morning. He stood up and rubbed his face. But something mettalic bumped into the side of his pinky. He froze. Now confused, he blinked. "Why am I in Nick's room?" he thought to himself. He tried to touch the mettalic thing again. No... that's not possible. He stumbled to the nearest mirror, almost tripping on the way. There it was, Nick's face. His piercing was the thing that he touched.

"Holy shit! Nick?" Nick's voice answered, but it was Chris who controlled it along with the shocked face who mimicked his expressions. Or more easily now, reflected.

Chris stared at himself. He looked at his body, lifting up the shirt. He wasn't fat, but Nick was naturally heavier. And Chris felt the difference. He touched the tatoos. "This is insane..."

Matt

Matt started his morning like he always would. He woke up, put on his favourite hoodie and headed to the bathroom. His eyes still not used to the light didn't really notice any difference. Or even Matt himself didn't. He didn't even notice that he came out of Chris's room.

Matt splashed water on his face. He looked up at himself. "Woah" he noticed the hair. They were much longer. He brushed through them and couldn't believe how much they have grown over night. And then he noticed. That wasn't hsi face that he was used to see every morning in the mirror.

"Okay... it's ok. It's just a dream."

Matt closes his eyes, breathing slowly.

He hears a scream coming from his own bedroom.

"Ok, maybe it's not a dream"

Nick

Nick strechted in the bed, not wanting to get up so early. He felt he was hard. He decided to ignore the hard on.

He opened his eyes and immediately knew something was off. This wasn't his room. He got up and looked around. "WTF Matt?" but the voice was different, it sounded just like his brother.

He got up and went straight to the mirror. He knew this was real, way too real.

"How am I Matt? I could Freaky Friday with anyone, but I swap with Matt? Hello? Like..."

He looked at himself again. He flexed his arms, lifting his shirt. "Well it could be worse I guess."

"MAAAAAATTTTTT, CHRIIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSS!" Nick screamed through the whole house

Nick, Matt, Chris

Nick:"Can anybody explain why I'm in Matt's body?"

Matt:"Who are you?"

Chris:"Who else would be so loud in this house"

Matt pointing at Nick's body:"So you're Chris in Nick's body and Nick is in mine. And I am in Chris's"

Nick:"So can anyone explain what happened?"

Matt looking concerned at Nick:"No, but can you explain, why is my dick hard?" he pointed at his old body. Chris was laughing, while Nick was trying to hide it. "I just woke up, don't pretend like it doesn't happen to you"

Matt:"It does, but in my own body. intentionally"

Chris:"Hello? Can we stop talking about Matt's wonderful dick and try to figure out what to do?"

Nick:"If this is like Freaky Friday we'll have to pretend to be each other and live our lives"

Matt:"We're triplets, we could pretend to be ourselves actually"

Chris:"Yeah, like everyone who knows us can't tell the difference, right? Even our Tiktok fans can tell who we are. Putting on clothes won't change that"

Nick:"We should go on like we normally do and see if we swap back"

Matt:"But we're suppose to shoot today in the car. Why am I feeling so uneasy?"

Chris:"My body needs Pepsi, you should go get some. We got some preparing to do. Let's get dressed"

They had to figure out who goes to who's room according to their bodies, which took a minute, but they eventually did.

Nick

Nick found some clothes that Matt usualy wears and that fit him well. He thought about mocking him, but Chris might do the same thing to him.

He stood in front of the mirror. His heart started racing. There was one thing he was curious about. He was gay, but Matt's body wasn't. Maybe he... nah that would be too much. But still, it would be good to know

Nick closed the door and sat on the bed. He pulled out Matt's phone. Searched Pornhub and already saw some favourite links Matt had. He watched for a moment, not knowing if he was observing the man or the woman. But Nick felt his briefs tightening. Jesus, he was hard in Matt's body. Was he really gonna do what he thought of?

"Ah fuck it" he pushed his hand under the waistband and grabbed his new hard dick. "Ok, pretty nice brother." he pulled down his sweatpants and now his briefs. His new shaved dick was right there. He started jerking it. Still watching the porn. Yeah, he was into it. Or his body atleast. This wasn't so bad. Maybe if he had to have sex as Matt with some girl, he would be good

"Are you fucking serious right now?!" Matt in Chris's body was standing in the doorway watching Nick, Chris in his body right behind him amused. "Does this mean we are allowed to jerk off to? I kinda wanna try some of your toys" Chris shouted at Nick

"Matt I'm so so sorry. I really didn't want to" Nick apologized abruptly

"Yeah and is that why the porn is on as well?" Matt shouted

"I just wanted to know if I was straight now. Nothing else..." Nick tried to apologize in a way

"Wait. Do you guys think I'm gay now? Oh no. I must be, right? Since Nick has your dick hard from that straight porn. Oh no, I'm gonna be sucking dick" Chris panicked

"STOP. Both of you. No jerking off. No sucking dick. We'll switch back tonight. Let's shoot the video so that we'll be back asap. Nick get my keys. You'll be driving as I normally do." Matt took the lead of the moment and gave out orders

"Are you crazy? He's gonna kill us in that car. You know how he drives" Chris pointed at Nick aggressively

"Shut up. I'm a decent driver" Nick replied, but both of them saw the look Matt was giving them, so they took their things and went to the car

Parking lot in front od Chipotle

"See. We survived" Nick defended himself

"No, Chris is right. You can't drive on the way home" Matt said in shock and fear combined after the journey they just experienced

"Oh come on. Don't be like that. It wasn't THAT bad" Nick replied

"Sure. Tell that to the lady on the crossing that had to jump to save herself" Chris laughed as he recalled the moment

"Let's start the video?" Matt asked and both Chris and Nick nodded

Matt instinctively started. "Hey, guys. It's the Sturniolo triplets. Me, Nick and Chris..." he was interrupted by Nick. "Matt, stop. You called me Nick. I'm you and you're Chris now."

Matt:"Ah, fuck. Right. This is gonna be so confusing."

Chris:"I don't think I can pretend to be Nick. He has his mimics I can't

Nick:"I have an idea. What if we do it on purpose?"

Chris:"People will notice and call us out"

Nick:"Yeah, that's my point. Let them. Let's name the video Pretending to be each other or Body swap or something and just shoot the video. We can put some jokes in there making fun of ourselves and it could work out"

Matt:"Is that our style though? Is that something we would normally do?"

Chris:"Dude, just imagine the fanfictions om Wattpad the fans are gonna write after they see this"

Nick:"So? They already write them. Atleast we'll have a good popular video and we'll manage it even in different bodies"

They looked at each other and they knew that Nick's idea was good.

8 hours later

Chris:"Guys, Nick was right. The video was a success. People love it"

Matt:"sturniolabiggestfan88 'Nick was good at pretending to be Chris, but the other guys weren't as good. U need practice' Yeah right. Wanna see how hard we're practicing, bitch?" They laughed at the ikony of the comment

Nick:"So what if we don't swap?"

Chris:"We have to hope"

Matt:"What about the intimate part of the swap? We still need to do basic hygiene, we all got needs as we saw before, right Nick?"

Chris:"Dude, we're triplets. We couldn't be in more similar bodies. Yes we know how different we are and yet we aren't. And we know each other better than anyone else, so let's treat our bodies with respect as we would have our own. Right?"

They nodded and smiled how good their relationship together was

Chris:"Ok, now that this is out of the way, I think I got the most exploring to do. So If you'll excuse me, me and Nick's body got a date in the shower with some of his toys. Have a great night." He said not turning around to watch their reaction. Matt laughed immediately as he saw his own body looking shocked and speechless

2 years later

Nick was waiting for his boyfriend to show up. They were supposed to go to their family gathering with everyone. Nick had to get used to his new name and a different body, which he actually didn't mind at all. He also had to come out of the closet again, but now as Matt.

Matt in Chris's body basically didn't change that much. He was still straight and had a new girlfriend. They met in university

The most surprising was Chris. He got used to having Nick's body. And after some time he figured out that he was still attracted to women, but now men as well. So this bisexual king was now hooking up with everyone he fancied.

When they arrived to their home. They always hugged first. Their bond was strong even if they were far away from each other. Nick thought that after they found out that the swap was permanent, that they wouldn't speak at all. The gift was sent by some fan. They found the note eventually and found out that it was cursed. The fan was some homophobic shit who wanted to do harm to Nick.

Nick was now in his... sorry, in Matt's old bedroom. His boyfriend was passed out on the bed after the passionate sex they had. Nick looked at the side of the bed and remembered the first day when they swapped and his first jerk off session in Matt's body.

He explored the room. All of Matt and some of his stuff were there. And... no way. The gift was there. Along with the note. Nick observed it and after a moment of consideration tossed it in the trash. He picked up the note and burned it. Now feeling as if there were no open cases in his life. He went to bed, next to his boyfriend and fell asleep, happy.

"Chris, baby. What would you like for breakfast?" the female voice said. Nick opened his eyes. "Not again!"

Inbox request by @archeronfire

Can you do a three way body swap with the sturniolo triples? Specifically Chris becoming Nick, Nick becoming Matt, and Matt becoming Chris.

Hey. So this was fun, but at the same time one of the hardest stories I had to write :D

Since I didn't know much about Sturniolos, I had to ask for advice and watch a few videos, because I was worried I might screw this up. So I hope I wrote a decent story. Let me know what you think :)

[tpwk-formula1]

Hii, first I just have to say how much I adore your request-format! It makes the whole process so fun, and I can’t wait to read more of your writing😚❤️❤️❤️

For the order, I’m really craving a gluten-free pizza, served by Franco, with some red sauce. But I’d like it kind of both ways, so red sauce from him and red sauce from reader, if you know what I mean. Like they’re fighting for dominance, switch x switch ❤️ and are kinda mean to each other. But for vibe, I’d love sort of a teasing, intense tone, where Franco’s just really teasing, charming and cocky. So rough but not too onesided, you know!❤️

Then for toppings I’d love pepperoni, tomatoes, gorgonzola and gouda, but again sort of evenly between them. I’d love for them both to be kinda mean. ❤️

To drink I’m really craving a diet coke, diet pepsi, red bull, white claw and an Old Fashion to finish it off. (Both crying)

Also dessert would be amazing, thank you!!❤️❤️❤️

For an extra add-on, if that’s okay (otherwise just ignore this part❤️), I’d love it if he spoke some spanish to reader, not really dirty talk but some hot pet names and teasing sentences that reader doesn’t understand. Translate is fine, so don’t worry abt it having to be perfect, but if you’re not comfortable just ignore this!❤️

Thank you, I’m really looking forward to reading your fics!!❤️❤️

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

gluten-free rivals red sauce rough sex pepperoni "Be a good girl, and you'll get what you want" tomatoes "Do you enjoy pissing me off?" gorgonzola "Are you always this fucking loud?" gouda “Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl” diet coke recording kink diet pepsi biting redbull hickeys white claw crying old fashion drunk sex dessert yes served by Franco Colapinto

Franco x rival! reader

TW - switch x switch, edging, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, crying, rough, begging, unprotected sex, creampies, GOOGLE TRANSLATED SPANISH - MDNI 18+

WC - TBD

Y/N POV

"Do you guys ever get along?" I hear one of the drivers on the grid ask making Ollie groan and answer before Franco or I can answer.

"They were finding a way to fight each other even when she was promoted to F1," Ollie says making me laugh slightly.

"He just knows how to get under my skin," I saw while shrugging my shoulders not seeing how this was any of their business.

"You mean to tell me when she would be gone and we couldn't find her she was terrorizing him?" George asks. I just smile and nod my head proudly.

When I joined Mercedes at the beginning of the season and became teammates with George I still would pop my head into the F2 paddock to say hi to some of my old teammates while also finding ways to piss the Argentinian off. But when he joined mid season replacing Logan we where finally racing together again which meant messing with one another became so much easier.

As the night out progressed and the drinks kept coming Franco and I found ourselves shoved in a dark corner together.

"God you smell like tequila," I state when he gets close trying to pull me in for a kiss. I just push at his chest pulling a fake disgusted look which only had him roughly grabbing my jaw and placing a kiss on my lips.

"Been thinking about that all night," Franco admits making me pull a disgusted look at him.

"That's prety fucking domestic," I state while pulling him in closer by shirt before I release my grip on his shirt and move my hand to his neck where I gave it a good squeeze while I plant my lips back on his.

"You're a fucking whore," I whisper against his lips when he whimpers at my tight grip.

"Vas a ser la puta en un momento," Franco whispers back against my lips making me pull back slightly giving him a raised brow. He knew I didn't understand much Spanish which made moments like this that much more intense.

"Let's get out of here," Franco says while turning away and walking towards the exit which had me following a few minutes after not trying to look like I was going home with him. I knew damn well the second they realized the 2 of us missing they would put 2 and 2 together rather quickly and Ollie was never shy to expose what we really did when we where alone.

When I finally pull up to Franco's hotel I waste no time in getting up to his room and knocking on the door.

When he opens the door he instantly pulls me into his room and closes the door before he roughly shoves me against it pulling out a loud whimper.

I feel Franco move his hand to my neck choking me in the same manner I had done to him when we where in the club. I whimper when I feel his grip tighten on my neck but quick compose myself and push against his hand so I can move away from the wall where I quick use my strength to push him against the wall and pull him back for a kiss.

Franco still had his hand around my neck but due to his shock of the position change made his grip loosen slightly. But it take Franco little to no time to gather himself and move his hand from my throat to my hair where he pulls me near the bed and push me on the ground so I was on my knees with my back resting against the foot of the bed to trap me in the position.

Franco wastes no time in pulling his pants and briefs off and pushing my head near his hard length. I open my mouth and let Franco start face cum me.

"joder siempre tómalo tan bien," Franco grunts out as he pushes my head against the mattress and uses it to his advantage. With my head not being able to move anymore he pushed his length all the way down my throat making me gag and almost instantly start tearing up.

"Fuck, you're a pathetic slut," Franco grunts when he sees the tears start rolling down my cheek. When he starts fucking into my face and hitting my gag reflex each time he pushes in I start fighting back slightly. I'm pushing at his thighs trying to slow down a bit which only has him going harder.

"Jodida tómalo," Franco grunts out while still fucking my mouth.

Franco pushes my head all the way down his cock making sure I take the fuck length leaving me to gag and tear up around his cock fighting to gain some air. When he finally released my head I pull off his cock and start coughing and gasping for air trying to gather myself before I stand up and push Franco on the bed. I quickly strip out of all my clothes while Franco pulls his shirt off and climb into bed to join him.

When I get into the bed I start teasing Franco's cock with my tongue making him hiss at the stimulation to his sensitive cock. I knew after face fucking me he wouldn't last long but I didn't care, I wasn't planning to let him cum, just wanted him begging under me.

"Fuck, hermosa," Franco hisses when I start pulling his cock into my mouth while still teasing his sensitive tip with my tongue.

While still swirling my tongue around the tip of Franco's cock I move a free hand down to his balls and start squeezing them making Frnaco moan rather loudly.

"Fuck, m'not gonna last long," Franco whines out making me speed up my actions on his balls and start bobbing my head bringing him close to the edge. I could tell Franco was about to fall over the edge which had me instantly moving away from his cock to watch him start bucking his hip and whining at the loss of contact.

"Fuck, no please! I was so close, I fucking need it! Please Hermosa hazme venir," Franco whines.

"Are you always this fucking loud? Begging to cum already? Pathetic little thing," I tell him while slowly stroking his length. I loved watching the way Franco gets exceptionally more desperate and needy when he was this close to cumming.

As I was leaning down to continue my teasing Franco roughly grips into my hair and pulling me up so he can plant a kiss on my lips before flipping us over so he was now the one on top.

I feel Franco instantly push his full length into my tight pussy giving me no time to adjust before he was roughly fucking into my pussy making me cry out in a loud moan.

"Now, who's the loud one?" Franco questions back with a smirk while he continues to fuck into my pussy making me loudly moan at the pleasure coursing through me.

"Faster please," I beg which has Franco instantly fucking into my pussy at a faster pace.

"Fuck, the way you clench around me is gonna make me cum," Franco grunts out making me clench around him around.

"More, please," I beg again needing more feeling my orgasm starting to build up.

Franco speeds up into a brutal pace becoming too much almost instantly.

"Fuck Franco," I cry while cumming all over his cock. Franco continues to fuck me through my orgasm at the brutal pace making me start crying in overstimulation while begging him to slow down.

"Franco can't take it. Slow down please!"

“Slow down? You just told me to speed up, make up your mind silly girl,” Franco teases back only going at a faster pace.

I knew I was a crying mess under him again but I didn't care when I felt my orgasm starting to build deep within my pussy once again.

"Fuck, gonna cum for me again?" Franco states when he can feel my pussy throbbing around his cock in anticipation for another orgasm.

"Fuck, Franco," I cry out as I start cumming all over his cock once again. Franco helps me ride my orgasm out finally slowing his pace down to let me catch my breath. Once I've settled down I flip Franco and I over once again climbing off his dick and getting back on my knees so I can pull him into my mouth again.

"I taste amazing on your cock," I say once I've collected some of my slick. I lean up and spit directly into Franco's mouth knowing he would only be able to taste my spit, but not caring because I loved seeing him swallow like a whore.

"Fuck, Hermose, please," Franco begs which has me leaning back down to his cock to pull him deep into my throat and bobbing my head.

"Fuck," Franco manages out while bucking his hips right on the edge of cumming.

I pull back at the last second while squeezing his cock knowing it'll help him from cumming before I was ready to let him.

"Please," Franco cries out making me smirk at him at how desperate he is.

"Shut up," I tell him before pulling him back into my mouth and repeating the same process while he was under me crying and begging for his release.

"I said shut up! Do you enjoy pissing me off?" I snap at him while sending down a harsh slap on his inner thigh making him whimper at the sudden and sharp pain.

"Please! I'll be good! I'm so close, please!" Franco begs while tears start rolling down his face.

"Look like a proper whore! Crying for me like you weren't just doing the same thing to me," I tease before taking Franco back into my mouth and edging him once again.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," Franco groans out once again making me pull away from his cock entirely to watch as it bounces against his lower tummy in search of stimulation so it could finally be put out of it's misery.

"Mierda, Please lo necesito tan malo," Franco says so lost in his pleasure he's asking in Spanish. I let Franco start to come down from the edge while I lean down and start kissing his inner thighs before I start taking small little bites of out his sink before I finally sink my teeth in and leave a little hickey on his inner thight while i repeat the process a few times letting his once bare thighs be scattered with hickeys made by me.

"Given, I don't know Spanish I'm gonna take it you want me to do it again!" I say with a smirk only resulting in Franco crying out again while thrashing his body around a bit.

"Quite it!" I say while sending down a hard slap on his inner thigh knowing it'll get him to stop squirming around under me.

I lean back down and pull Franco into my mouth again and start bobbing my head which has Franco instantly gripping at my hair trying to keep me down on his cock, but it didn't work because the second he was about to cum I use all my strength to pull my mouth away.

"No, no, no, no, I can't do it anymore," Franco cries out making me smirk before climbing into his lap and sinking down on his cock making him cum almost instantly.

"Mierda, sentirse tan bien envuelta alrededor de mi polla," Franco chants in Spanish while I ride him through his orgasm.

"Fuck, I need you still Franco please," I beg while riding his cock which had him flipping us back over so he was over me again while he starts pounding into ym pussy as if he hadn't just cum.

"FUck, Franco, not gonna last long," I cry out making him speed up.

"Fucking hold it and be a good girl, and you'll get what you want," Franco grunts back making me whimper.

"PLease, Franco can't hold it back," I whine out making Franco roll his eyes and pull his cock out right before I was about to cum.

"Franco! What the fuck," I try to shout but it comes out more like a whine making Franco smirk at me.

"I'm just giving you the same treatment," Franco replies back before plunging his cock deep into my pussy and fucking me.

“Please!” I beg once again which has Franco speeding up his actions while bringing his head down and biting my neck making me whimper while throwing me over the edge and into another orgasm.

When I finally come down from my high Franco slows his hips down and unleashes another load deep into my pussy to join the first load he gave me.

“Fuck,” Franco groans while pulling out of me slowly and climbing out of bed to clean me up.

“Im not moving from this bed for atleast 12 hours,” I joke while curling into Franco’s side and relaxing into his warm embrace.

“Sounds like 12 hours of free range to fuck you,” Franco jokes back which has me whining and clenching my thighs at the thought.

“You like that idea I see,” Franco further teases with a laugh making me burry my face in his chest and start kissing his skin before making my way to his mouth and pull him in for a kiss.

“Think your teammate would believe it if I said you’re actually pretty sweet to me sometimes,” Franco says making me laugh softly and shake my head.

“No George is convinced Im heartless,” I reply back making both of us giggle softly.