#one lonely night
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cantsayidont · 6 months ago
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Robert McGinnis painting for a 1966 Dutch paperback edition of Mickey Spillane's red-baiting Mike Hammer novel ONE LONELY NIGHT, published with the Dutch title SPIONNE MET EEN ZWOELE LACH (SPY WITH A SULTRY SMILE).
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oakendesk · 1 year ago
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book cover - One Lonely Night - 1951
Barye Phillips
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duranduratulsa · 5 months ago
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REO Speedwagon - One Lonely Night
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80's Fest Less Popular Favorites: One Lonely Night by REO Speedwagon (1985) from Wheels Are Turning #REOSpeedwagon #ONELONELYNIGHT #wheelsareturning #80s #80sfest #durandurantulsas6thannual80sfest
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marvelouslizzie · 1 year ago
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A Lonely Night
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summary: Your crush on your roommate gets out of hand. His smile ruins you in a way you never expected.
pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader 
word count: 1.9K
warnings: 18+, masturbation (fingering, vibrator use), fantasies, daddy kink, no mention of y/n 
A/N: I actually planned this as a 3 part story where we see his POV as well. I hope to write the remaining 2 parts. I hope my inspiration lasts.
The gif represents the smile that ruined the reader. Who can blame her?
Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing on such short notice. You're a lifesaver!
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.
Read more tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.
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You don’t know how you ended up here. You had no intention of doing something like this. You didn’t intend to think about sex at all, especially not while your roommate is home. But when you saw his charming smile and those shiny blue eyes, you felt a jolt of electricity running through your body. It somehow felt like a 0.5-millisecond orgasm. It doesn’t matter how short it was, though, because you can feel the dampness of your panties, so you have no other choice but do something about it.
The TV is on, and it sounds like Bucky is watching the news. That’s not the sexiest thing to hear while touching yourself, yet you are grateful there’s something that covers the noises you make. It’s not like you are a really loud person. Especially not while touching yourself, but this time… You feel there’s something different about this time. The way your body responds to your own touch is not something you’ve experienced before. Neither is the wetness that is dripping out of you. It’s like your body is desperate for this. Desperate for attention and release.
You keep rubbing your pussy, touching all the different spots that make yourself feel good, and your whole body starts to shake, your ears buzzing, and your mind completely blank except for the image of Bucky. His smile and those blue eyes... You want him to be on top of you, touching you the way you like it, fingering you, telling you to be a good girl for him, and making you come over and over again. Then when you think it’s over you want him to push himself inside you, making your abused pussy clench with need. You can imagine how tired you would feel yet how wonderful it would be to finally have him inside you. He would start slowly, making you ask for it. You would either beg him to give you a break because you can’t come one more time or beg him to go harder, faster so you can just lose yourself. The thought of him consumes you while you are coming. It’s such a sweet orgasm, not all-consuming. It feels like you are floating in the air. So good. Exactly what you needed. What you don’t expect is how long it lasts. 
You don’t remember the last time you felt like this. Self-pleasuring is something you do often, but it never felt this good. Normally you would be done by now: already reached the top and breathing heavily while enjoying your after-glow, but this time it’s like your body wants even more. You can’t stop touching yourself. It just doesn’t stop feeling good, no overstimulation. At least not yet.
So if your body wants more, you are going to give it more. You will continue until you feel absolutely satisfied. That’s why you keep touching yourself, testing what feels the best and using your wetness. You haven’t used an ounce of lube since you started and yet your fingers are unbelievably sticky. You can’t help yourself but raise on your elbows and look at your pussy. You move your fingers apart and the wetness creates a bridge between them.
“Oh my god…”
He just gave you the most charming smile on the face of the earth. Nothing more. Why are you so freaking wet?
You can actually think of a couple of reasons. One of them is not having sex for a while. You don’t remember when was the last time. You can only remember it wasn’t impressive so you came home and took your vibrator out and rode it until you collapsed on the bed, finally feeling satisfied enough to sleep. Since then, you either used your fingers or your vibrator to get off, and your body needed more. A lot more.
The other reason is, your growing crush on Bucky. You knew this would be a problem when you decided to be roommates with him, yet it didn’t stop you. It’s delightful to see his handsome face every day, but it’s also torture. Seeing him getting out of the shower, with only a towel around his waist, or half naked while working out… It’s impossible not to get a crush. And on top of that, he’s super kind. Always considering you. He doesn’t sleep much, you know that, but he never makes any noise at night. Never disturbs you. Never eats your food. He never even brought someone over. At least not yet. You are dreading the day that might happen. It will hurt so badly, and there’ll be nothing you can do about it. Maybe that will help you get over your silly crush. But truth be told, you’d rather have it forever than hear him fucking someone else.
You keep rubbing yourself, over and over again until your head is thrown back. There’s this hunger building inside you. God, you feel like begging even though you are the one touching yourself.
“Please, please, please…” You try to be as quiet as possible. It’s just a whisper.
“I really need it, please…”
You do. You really do. You need to come so hard that you can’t breathe. Maybe then it will be enough. Maybe then you will feel satisfied. Your fingers start working even faster. You can feel your second orgasm, but there’s something on the back of your mind that’s holding you back. The thought of Bucky finding you like this. You don’t want that to happen. So you are holding back a little. You can’t risk it, can you? Otherwise, you won’t be able to look at him. You keep rubbing different spots trying to find the best one for this orgasm. Nothing works until you hear a sound from the living room. Probably Bucky moving around in the apartment. Somehow that sets you off. Your orgasm comes crashing in, taking your breath away while you silently keep touching yourself. You keep going until you can’t anymore. You feel buzzed, breathing heavily. That might be the best orgasm you had lately. You take a deep breath in, and then out. The thought of him catching you was terrifying yet you couldn’t stop. You didn’t want to stop. Can you be actually terrified and excited at the same time? If so, that’s exactly how you felt.
You lay there, in the comfort of your bed, and try to collect your mind. A part of you feels guilty because of what you’ve just done. Not the masturbation part, but pleasuring yourself at the thought of Bucky because he has no idea. He probably never even looked at you like that. Still, you can’t help but feel attraction, and it’s not just a physical thing. His personality is making everything worse. If he was just an asshole, everything would be easier, but he had to be the most amazing guy you’ve ever met. So, it’s his fault if you are masturbating to the thought of him, right? He’s just too perfect.
You breathe in and out, trying to deal with the guilt and your racing thoughts. Normally, this would be more than enough. Two back-to-back orgasms and the second one was so fucking intense yet you can still feel the need. It’s right there. Your core is silently begging while your wetness keeps dripping out of you. When you close your eyes and imagine Bucky pushing himself inside you, your muscles contract and your whole body begs for more.
Sighing, you open your bedside drawer. Here it is, your beloved vibrator. You close the drawer and look at it for a couple of seconds, trying to decide if you should really do this. He’s still in the living room, you can still hear the TV. It’s possible you might get caught, yet the hunger inside you takes over any rational thought. 
After a couple of seconds, you finally give in. Slowly, you push the vibrator inside you and your pussy clenches around it. Even without moving or turning it on, it feels amazing. The feeling of being full… You missed it so much. Then you start to move it in and out, slowly. You close your eyes and imagine it’s a real cock inside you, but it’s hard to get lost in that thought. The texture of the vibrator is far from realistic and the size isn’t that impressive. When that doesn’t work out, you turn it on and let yourself feel it. It’s better. Much better but still not enough. 
“God…” You complain silently while changing your position. You flip around and go on all fours, pushing your ass out as much as you can, the way you would do during sex. That finally hits the spot. You grab your pillow with haste and push your face into it, trying to cover any noise you might make.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” Your muffled moans can’t reach Bucky. He’s watching the TV after all.
“Yess, right there.” The words leave your lips before you are able to process them. Where are these words coming from? Who are you talking to? Is it a fantasy? You don’t know, but it feels good to let it out.
“Oh please, fuck me.” You try to push all the rational thoughts aside. It’s not the time for that.
“Fuck me, daddy, please.” You close your eyes and imagine Bucky again. Him taking his sweet time, edging you until you beg for release. You would give anything, absolutely anything to do this with him.
“Harder, please, daddy, I need it harder,” you mumble and then turn and press the vibration button again. It starts to pulse faster inside you and you feel like there is no air in your lungs anymore. You choke for a second, raising your head up from the pillow, and take a deep breath while your orgasm rips you apart. It’s nothing like you’ve experienced before. A part of your brain thinks you’re unlocking another level of orgasm while the other part is trying to enjoy this feeling while it lasts.
“Yes, yes, yes. Right there.” You let your head fall back on the pillow as you keep imagining Bucky. You have no idea how long your orgasm actually lasts. It’s definitely the longest one you’ve ever had. When your pussy starts to feel too sensitive you take out the vibrator and turn it off. 
Finally, you are feeling satisfied. You place the vibrator on top of your nightstand while you get on your back again. After taking a couple of deep breaths, you notice the lack of TV noise.
Shit.
Why did he turn the TV off? And more important, when? You look at the clock on the wall in front of you and the news program is not over yet. Did he hear you? 
God, please... Don’t let that happen.
You quickly stand up, putting your clothes back on quickly, and then you open the door as carefully as possible. The living room is empty. All you can hear is the shower running.
Thank god!
Bucky is taking a shower. So even with no TV on, he couldn’t have possibly heard you. The sound of the water would cover your moans, right? You hope so at least.
You go back to your room, clueless about the fact that Bucky heard everything, how he paid attention to every single detail, trying to memorize how you sound while coming. How you moan, how you rub yourself, and how needy you are.
Feeling like a creep, he jumped in the shower. Clearly, you were imagining someone else, and he had no right to listen to something as private as this. Yet he couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t stop imaging how it would be the one that you call daddy. And he definitely couldn't stop his left hand from wrapping around his cock.
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guardian-angle22 · 14 days ago
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carlos reyes and his black stetson
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poisonouspastels · 11 months ago
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Hey, brother, nice and steady Put down your drink, you ready? It's hard when things get messy (They call it lonely digging)
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unloneliest · 2 years ago
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in the lonely hearts club job leverage asks the question "does romantic love exist?" and answers it by having eliot buy parker a venus fly trap on hardison's behalf, expecting no recognition and revealing eliot remembers a throwaway comment parker made on their second job together.
we all know this.
but was anybody going to tell me hardison already had a browser window open looking for restaurants to buy eliot in portland in response at the start of the episode immediately after that? or was i supposed to figure it out on a rewatch all by myself?!
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suusoh · 21 days ago
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(pwp or something idk. just got horny in the tags of my last post about eddie not looking anywhere else but at his wife and only his wife while doing his husbandly duties.)
cw: female reader, sex, eddie's orbs, overuse of the word staring because I want you to start feeling annoyed and maim this man, slight yandere (maybe if you squint?) cheesy and unfunny frank valli reference at the end.
———
he's staring at you again.
Eyes fogged with a love sick haze in them at the absolute sight of you, his wife, all warm, soft, and pliant under him. You try to close your eyes from time to time, but even when you open them again— it just comes back to the first thing you see which is this man on top of you, mouth switching between grinning and gasping, and eyes wide open.
"...Eddie?"
He hums tenderly. "What is it, dear?"
"I-I.. can you just-"
It's so hard to talk when his hips don't stop moving despite his concern. The weight and absolute mass of him on top of you and grounding you into the bed with each thrust makes it all the more harder to think straight.
Thoughts on how to sound out your request begin to blur and buzz out with him fucking into you like this. In and out, in and out, inside of you. over and over again as he buries himself deep within your cunt. your pubic bone practically connecting with his, and sending sparks of heat inside your belly with each time he ruts himself into you.
"Just what? What does my darling wife want?" He starts searching your face for any indication or answer to complete it for you what you want him to do now. Still looking at you intensely.
Looking. He keeps looking. Which is, sort of the thing you wanted to point out in the first place.
"You're... o-oh- oh-"
"I...?" he acts as if he's not quite catching on. Pondering for a second with the sounds of your moans and wanton sighs, and the creaking of the worn out bed acting as background noise to aid his thinking.
"Oh! I'm doing a swell job is that it? Is that what you're trying to say, dearest?" he lets out a content loving sigh, and your breathe stutters as he picks up his pace. "You and your words never fail to make me blush, my love."
Another particularly good thrust has you arching your back, of which he's making sure his eyes connect with yours once more while you writhe and wiggle underneath. But your wriggling quickly eases from bodily pleasure, to slowly morphing into a sense of discomfort now.
Because he's staring at you.
Again.
Which should be good isn't it? Eye contact during sex is a sign after all of a good partner paying attention to your needs. And with someone like Eddie, him paying attention to your needs is the tiniest sliver of hope you cling onto to make sure his reason for keeping you alive is a bit more... cemented, substantial even. Gives you a little bit more reason (or delusion) to believe he'd be inclined to make this relationship, make you, last longer.
(Compared to the alternative route of him using your body for his own sick dispositions, and casually stringing you all up when he's done.)
Though you're sure that this is not the type of bedroom eye contact many normally wish for.
"Y-you... you're.." you try to murmur out again.
Not that you should talk about having anything normal with this man. You might as well find the solution to world hunger long before you find anything even remotely "normal" in this place.
It's not that you're expecting him to do things normally, but can't he... can't he just... do something else maybe?
Look anywhere but you for just a split second, maybe bury himself into your neck, or close his own eyes to focus on the feeling of his cock getting squeezed, or look at any other part of your body that could possibly entrance him; mouth, chest, stomach... hell, you could even hope that he tries to glance down at your clit? Maybe marvel at the sight of where the two of you connect, since that's all his fucked up baby fever mind thinks about anyways?
You'll take anything really, just one small thing to act as a reminder that you guys are indeed having... sex— and not engaging in some sort of impromptu staring contest out of nowhere.
Because his eyes are doing absolutely nothing but looking into your own and as they continue staring at you.
and staring at you...
and staring...
and staring...
and staring...
Jesus fucking christ you don't think he's even blinked in the past few seconds anymore.
You let out a mix of a whine and a groan, opting to shut your eyelids close and try to shield your face away from his unmoving eyeballs by trying to wiggle your hands free out of his grasp (him and his damn insistence to hold hands while making love as he calls it.).
"What is it my love? Must I pay you a penny for your thoughts perhaps?"
"You keep staring... "
You try to wiggle free again, inadvertently adding onto the delightful friction between your parts and his— to which he gets a small shiver of his own at the roll of your hips. A light laugh escapes him at your captivating and somewhat fruitless display. He finally gives reprieve to your brain's rising fear of being uncannily perceived at, and blinks.
"Ohhh, my darling."
He lets go of one of your hands so that he can cradle your face, tilting it so he can capture your mouth into a kiss. humming into your mouth, but the humming isn't just the usual sighs of pleasure, as you can pick up the movement of him saying some words.
He pulls apart from his half kissing-half speaking into your mouth, as he slowly begins to playfully laugh again.
"You can't blame a man for looking at his wife when she's like this; all breathless and beautiful, now can you? I sure can't!"
Said wife that he just knows for certain was sent down by god all-mighty himself into the 7th circle of hell named "mount massive asylums".
When Eddie sees you, he can't help but imagine your rotting carcass somewhere else. An alternate place where those filthy bastards could have gotten their hands on you, torn you limb from limb (if they didn't have the patience to pull your teeth and your eyes out first), then have their way with using your dead body as a urinal afterwards.
You must have been scared to not have your dear husband around to protect you from all the nasty violence around the asylum, weren't you darling?
No, no. No meed to fret now and get your panties in a twist! None of that here. Not when your dear ol' Eddie is here now.
You are very much alive and perfect, preserved by your own sheer dumb luck or maybe by fate itself to be kept alive long enough for him. Just him.
And under his care, your body is experiencing the furthest thing from excruciating physical pain right now, isn't it darling? Feels good, yes? To have your husband make love to you like the passionate man he is. Lest he's supposed to take in the sight of you rolling your eyes back and your legs hooking around his waist, pulling him in for more as something otherwise?
Oh goodness him... It's almost too good to be true.
And he really can't take his eyes off of you.
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royaltea000 · 4 months ago
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He’s like the worlds shittiest Madonna to me
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cinturon-cadena · 1 year ago
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I suddenly deeply understand all the DPxDC headcannons that kryptonite is crystalized ectoplasm. Like, at first I was like "Oh yeah, bc they're both green and semi-glowy(?) and it's a fun plot point for the crossover!"
But now?
In Smallville it straight-up gives people powers. And not just any powers, but powers associated with whatever that person happened to be exposed to/obsessed with at the time of exposure! It's extremely emotionally reactive, just like (headcannoned) ectoplasm!!
It all makes sense now!
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sampilled · 20 days ago
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I hate that they gave Sam a stupid reason for hating Halloween (he embarrassed himself at a Halloween party) when his initial reason for hating Halloween, that his life FUCKING SUCKED was a much better reason
Like he had an alcoholic father that was lost in his grief and who didn’t try to make anything special for him and his brother never mind the holiday that happens 2 DAYSSSS before the anniversary of his wife’s death
Like he says it himself. He doesn’t care about Christmas or Halloween. He never trick or treated. They had kfc for Christmas. His first experience of a family holiday was with someone else’s family. No one ever cut the crusts of his sandwiches!!!!
Like dean sees Halloween and horror movies and dressing up as escapism. Halloween was probably his fav for the opportunity to escape his life for a night and get free treats that he wouldn’t usually get.
Sam sees holidays as depressing reminders of how shitty his life is 💯
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johnslittlespoon · 7 months ago
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– i think of you all of the time.
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purple-petrichor · 7 months ago
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The Count when his dear friend Jonathan Harker is staying over:
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duranduratulsa · 2 years ago
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Watch "REO Speedwagon - One Lonely Night" on YouTube
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Song 🎵 🎶 of the day 2: One Lonely Night by REO Speedwagon (1985) from Wheels Are Turning #REOSpeedwagon #onelonelynight #wheelsareturning #80s
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starflungwaddledee · 10 months ago
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did you know that coo is canonically lonely? {shipaganza prompt by @veveisveryuncool}
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guardian-angle22 · 4 months ago
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911: Lone Star | Owen & Carlos ↳ for @paperstorm
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