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#soft hotel mattress
imanes · 2 months
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my little princess is living dangerously… I was so scared books would fall on her but these towers were sturdier than I thoughts. the fact that my bed is hard as a rock helps with the stability
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becomingabeing · 2 years
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Travelling is so much fun. You get to sleep in alien beds for one to two weeks which reminds you to appreciate your beautiful, wonderful, absolutely unmatched bed in your perfect little room more.
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landosjpg · 6 months
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morning runs | ln
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the one where your boyfriend finds you fast asleep in your hotel bed when he returns from his morning run.
lando norrix x fem!reader
word count: ~1.0k
warnings: smut MINORS DNI!!!!, porn without plot, somnophilia, p in v, unprotected sex (as always, take care please), slight praise
note: those pictures of him running around melbourne with his shirt off have sent me into a spiral and they're the only thing i could think about for the past two days. i could not help myself.
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no matter how many times you travelled long distances, you still weren't used to it; jet lag always kicked your ass every time you went to a race on the other side of the world with lando, messing up your sleeping schedule to the point it ended up knocking you out for the vast majority of the day.
you were trying your best to adapt to the time change, but it always took you a few days to get it right. this year, lando had decided that morning runs were the way to beat jet lag.
he had asked you to join a few times, promising it would be helpful, but the drowsiness made it impossible for you to climb out of bed that early and be productive. that's why he had left all by himself early in the morning, tucking you in and planting a soft kiss on your forehead before walking out the hotel room.
he came back only a few hours later, cheeks flushed and a thin layer of sweat covering his chest, tank top in hand. when he walked into your shared room, he found you were still in bed, in the same position he had left you earlier, sheets sprawled out barely covering your body now.
he softly smiled at the sight before him, the dim light that entered the room from the blinds tempting him to get back in bed with you. he would. righter after taking a shower, he promised himself.
however, he walked to where you were, smiling at your sleepy expression.
"i love you," he mumbled, leaning down to peck your slightly parted lips. he raised his eyebrows when he heard a small whimper leave your throat and you shifted around a little, his eyes scanning your half-naked body.
you were only weating one of his shirts. not that it was something you never did before, but something about tour drowsy state was drawing him in. he sat right beside you on the mattress, trying not to woke you up and his fingers slowly reached for your legs, stroking your bare sking tenderly with the tip of his fingers.
you sighed softly at his warm touch, stretching your body and your shirt sliding up, letting him have a look at your underwear. he moved his hand up, up, up, until his fingertips brushed against the hem of your panties. as if it was muscle memory, your legs slowly spread open for him.
and fuck, was it tempting.
it wouldn't be the first time you woke up to his fingers buried deep inside you or his head between your legs, but he knew this time you were too tired. and he would have stood up and taken a shower if you hadn't whimpered his name in your sleep the second he withdrew his hand from your core. the sweet sound that fell from your lips made him smile, fingers slowly going back to pull your underwear to the side so he could get a proper look at you.
his smirk grew wider at the sight of how wet you were, and when you stirred the second he softly pressed his thumb against your clit, he knew he couldn't just leave you yet. lazily, he got rid of his own clothes, discarding them on the floor and hovered over your body, pulling your shirt up to your hips gently, still not wanting to disturb your sleep.
"look so pretty like this, baby," he mumbled before leaning down to kiss your cheek as he slid his already hard cock between your folds, slowly pushing inside of you only a few seconds later. a low groan escaped his throat as you easily took all of him; the fact that you were so ready for him, even in your unaware state, making him smile once more.
he stilled his body as he bottomed out for a few seconds, his eyes taking in your sweet expression. he brushed a strand of your hair back as he started rolling his hips slowly, his breath getting heavier as you hummed in your sleep.
the groan he let out right next to your ear as you unconciously clenched around him woke you up, making your body squirm in confussion under him.
"s'me, baby..." he slurred, still fucking you slowly and gently. "it's just me, don't worry."
you softly whimpered when you heard your boyfriend's voice and felt his weight on you, chest pressed against yours.
"lando..." the moan that left your lips was low, and you lazily wrapped your arms around his waist, holding him close. your eyes fluttered open only to find out he was looking right back at you. through half-lidded eyes, you could see the slight flush of his cheeks, a chuckle leaving your lips before you closed them again.
"you're doing so good," he whispered, keeping his thrusts gentle, not wanting to take you out of your sleepy state. "my pretty, pretty baby," he added, bumping his nose on yours to kiss your lips before hiding his face in the crook of your neck and spreading little kisses all over your skin.
the build up was slow, whispered praises and sighs being the only sound filling the room that turned into low whimpers as soon as you felt your toes curling, your pussy tightening around your boyfriend's cock, stealing a string of curses from his lips when you felt him filling you up.
after a few seconds, he slowly rolled the two of you on the mattress, your body now on top of his with him still buried inside of you.
"go back to sleep, baby," he murmured, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your lips and pulling the bedsheets over your bodies again, his arms holding you close to his chest, keeping you warm and comfortable.
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https://www.snoozermattress.com/
Snoozer is one of the best luxury mattress brands in India, offering a wide range of mattresses that are designed to provide superior comfort and support. Our mattresses are made with the finest materials, including natural latex, memory foam, and pocket springs, and they are handcrafted to the highest standards.
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gojoest · 2 months
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“there is never a moment in which i do not adore you” — g. satoru
established relationship, gn!reader, tooth rotting fluff bc i love him terribly and sickeningly, the title quote is from marie antoinette’s letter to axel von fersen, dividers by @/cafekitsune
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it is way past midnight when the door clicks open. your ears catch on the barely audible sound of keys being carefully placed on the counter.
satoru is home, finally — after a long day of duties, teaching, meetings and missions, he made it back to you.
and he is being quiet, stepping lightly and silently sneaking in — he doesn’t want to wake you up.
but you are awake anyway, curled up in your shared bed. the shirt he slept in last night clutched against your chest; it smells like him still, and it brings a sense of safety and comfort knowing that he was here this morning, wearing the cloth hugged between your arms; that he took it off and placed it there, on the bed, to wear again tonight.
you know before he makes his way to the bathroom for a quick shower to wash the weight of the day off his body, he will come to give you a kiss. he always does. his lips trace the skin on your cheek ever so delicately, in fact so delicately one could barely feel them even when awake.
but you know, you can feel his breath on you. because you are never sleeping when he does this — just pretending. and part of him knows it — he can easily tell if you’re in slumber or not based on your breathing patter alone that he came to know in his marrow — and his lips curl into a silent smile, soft and loving, grateful to have you wait for him. thankful that there is one person looking forward for his return. that there is a home he can go back to. that there is you.
maybe he also knows that you can never sleep without him. and that the bed feels like an unfamiliar place, the emptiness on the mattress — unnatural. that it makes you restless. that you toss and turn, similar to when you are laid on a new bed you’re not accustomed to, perhaps in someone else’s house or at a hotel, and you can’t fall asleep because it’s not your bed. that you wait, for him to come and make the bed familiar and warm, make it yours again.
maybe this is why he’s been coming back home earlier, or at least trying to, but it’s not always up to him.
“you’re back”, you mutter, turning around to catch him just as he was about to plant a soft peck on the side of your face but paused to take your scent into his lungs. your nose nuzzles against his, arm snaking around his neck and pulling him closer to draw his lips near yours, and the kiss both of you have longed to taste all day finally comes to light.
if yearning was a sound, it would be that of the air you both breath in from the closed space between your faces just the moment before the kiss. the air that enters through your nostrils and lets the scent of the other in, and once it reaches your senses it births a moan in your throats. like that of a thirsty man in the blazing hot desert tasting water for the first time in days.
“you are awake”, he pulls away, but remains connected with you. forehead glued to yours, blindfold off and eyes gazing softly into yours in the dark. he can see you perfectly, and he is afraid to blink. because anytime he does, it robs him of the time he could spend looking at you.
“i just happened to be”, you tell him, fingers gently scratching at his undercut, earning a soft hum from him followed by a “you’re a bad liar, but keep practicing”
you chuckle. he always sees through you.
satoru is leaning over you, avoiding to even sit by your side in his work clothes. the idea of possibly bringing residuals of the curses he’s exorcised that day into the place that he considers closest to heaven is just unacceptable to him. not that he’s ever admitted this, but it’s a pattern you’ve noticed.
but to you it doesn’t matter. you love the mess in him.
you wrap your other hand around him, an attempt to drag him into the bed. “come closer”, you coo.
he is resisting. “i need a shower first — i am sweaty. i smell bad”
“my satoru never smells bad”, you correct him.
he giggles. “you say that because i am your satoru”
“first, there’s no way you can ever be someone else’s satoru. second, please do not ruin my romantic moment — it’s rude”, you pout with a heavy sigh, but playfully.
this time he laughs — he’s missed this banter with you all day.
you can tell by the way his body shivers that he is wavering. his conscience might be in a dilemma right now whether he should break his rule just this once or not, but his muscles aren’t — they always lead him to you by default, like muscle memory. the fight is pointless. this one, he will lose. and he knows it.
and he caves.
the mattress sinks down as his massive self lays himself next to you, taking you into his arms. your forehead buried in his chest, his lips glued to the top of your head — you stay unmoving, in silence. in the dark, but in the warm — just breathing together.
a sigh breaks from his throat when you shift away from him. only slightly though — just to look at him.
“so— where was i before you interrupted my lovely speech”
“you were saying that your satoru never smells bad”, caressing your cheek he reminds you.
“right”, you nod, and then continue — “of course, it is because my satoru is mine — what a silly thing to state the obvious. but also because—“, you pause, charging your lips towards his, not to kiss. but to feed him your love, to pour it from your mouth and into his — “…because, there is never a moment in which i do not adore you”
a smile grows on your lips, but it isn’t your smile — you can feel his lips softly stretch against yours, curl up from the corners — it belongs to him.
and then the smile grows into a kiss, swallowing the love you give him. all of it, hungrily.
“i’ll take the day off tomorrow”, he pulls away, barely.
you smile, “i’ll make breakfast”
satoru thinks he got too lucky with you. and maybe he did.
but so did you, with him.
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g0dlyunsub · 2 months
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for the night.
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the flight back from a case gets delayed and the team’s forced to book rooms for the night. what a coincidence that you’re paired with spencer.
pairing :: s5!spencer x fem bau!reader
warnings :: fluff, flustered spencer, this is literally just an excuse to write about spencer with crutches
word count :: 1.7k
author’s note :: one of my favorite tropes asfdfafssfsd we all know where this is going right ;)
accompanying song :: let’s fall in love for the night by finneas
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“i have to admit, i am quite surprised. engine failures are extremely rare — statistically, they only occur once every 1.4 million flight hours.”
“uh-huh, very interesting.” you roll your eyes, but the smile that tempts to play on your lips is too overpowering to withhold. 
“it is!” spencer excitedly flashes you a smile. “we’re actually incredibly lucky to avoid an in-flight shutdown, which typically happens once per million flight hours-”
“reid, i think our luck might be running dry here. it’s 1 a.m., the jet’s engines are acting up, and we can’t leave portland.”
you take both of his crutches in your hands with an exasperated sigh. it’s not his fault, and you know better than to project your annoyance at him, but the disappointment of not being able to enjoy a nice, hot shower in the walls of your home has you uptight.
with an apologetic smile, you extend your shoulder to spencer; slowly, he places his hand on you, and you help him carefully descend the jet’s stairs.
the two of you are the last to join the rest of the group on the ground, and hotch sends an acknowledging nod in your direction once he sees that you’ve been assisting spencer. 
“l/n, reid, you guys okay with rooming together for the night?”
the words don’t initially register, and it’s only until spencer speaks up that you realize hotch isn’t asking – he’s confirming.
“we’re rooming in pairs?”
hotch nods, and his sidelong stare roams over spencer’s face like he’s challenging him to continue, to contest his proposal.
“emily? jj?” you pipe up this time, sending a pleading glance at both of them. they look back at you with sheepish smiles. 
“it looked like you guys were having a really good conversation back there. didn’t want to disturb you,” emily returns, slowly raising her shoulders and mouthing sorry.
spencer clears his throat and leans into your ear. “i can probably book a room at another place-”
you widen your eyes and immediately shake your head. “no, that’s not necessary, i’m completely fine with it! unless you’re… not?”
this time, spencer’s the one shaking his head fervently. “oh no, i’m entirely comfortable, perfectly content, uh- sharing a room with you.”
you display an awkward grin. “alright then, perfect.”
“i’ll set your bag on the table, is that okay?”
“yeah, thanks a lot.”
you heave a sigh of relief as you close the door behind you and rest spencer’s bookbag on the wooden table. spencer slowly lowers himself into a chair, and you gently lean his crutches against the walls near the door. 
you’re pleasantly surprised by the room’s decor; its soft carpet floor and mahogany picture frames hanging from the walls easily exceed your expectations for a traditional hotel room.
you’re about to make a comment commending the room’s quality when your eyes zero in on a terrifying sight.
there’s only one bed.
you do a double take, circling around the bedroom once more to check if there’s an extra mattress lying around somewhere – at this point, you really wouldn’t mind if the bed has a trundle.
“fuck me.”
“what?” 
spencer’s eyes immediately divert to you, and he stifles his reaction to your comment with a hasty cough.
you point to the bed, which prompts spencer to crane his neck to get a better view. 
“there’s only one bed.”
spencer’s eyes widen, and his gaze snaps up to your face so fast you wonder if you’ve just made a grave mistake of telling him. 
he was bound to find out anyway.
“it’s okay, i’ll take-” you start, but he cuts you off short.
“the floor? not a chance.”
you press your lips together tightly and gesture to his leg. “please, take the bed. your leg… you’re injured.”
spencer looks down at the floor briefly, a light shade of pink spreading across his face. “no, we can… we can share the bed.”
you feel your cheeks grow hot at his suggestion, but a refusal fails to surface on your lips. 
moving your hands to your hips, you nod slowly. “only because you’re insisting,” you murmur.
a brief silence veils the air, and the two of you have utterly no idea what to do next — neither of you wants to be the one to crawl into bed first.
but the clock’s hour hand had just moved past the two, and you know your eyelids aren’t going to stay open for much longer.
with a weary sigh, you gesture towards the lightswitch. “do you mind if we dimmed the lights a little?”
spencer turns, almost hobbling on his leg, and flips the switch for you. the room turns dark almost instantly, but a faint light emanates from a lamp on the nightstand.
“are you, um, going to sleep soon?”
you hate to be the first one to bring it up, but you have to — you can practically feel the tiredness tempting you like a fuzzy blanket.
“uh yeah, we should sleep.” 
you watch as spencer grabs a pillow from his side of the bed and positions it near the edge of the mattress. you’re about to ask him what he’s doing when he props himself onto the bed and rests his leg on top of the pillow, elevating his casted knee.
oh. as the realization hits you, you reach for your own pillow and gently place it next to his head. “here, use this.”
“that’s your pillow.” 
“i know.”
a soft chuckle sounds from his throat as spencer raises his head ever so slightly, allowing you to tuck the pillow beneath him.
“thanks,” he murmurs, and pats at the space next to him, urging you to join him on the bed.
once you’ve slipped your feet into the blanket, spencer stretches his arm to turn off the lamp and moves back to whisper a hushed good night into your ear.
you turn to say it back. “good n-”
his hand gently starts to wedge under your neck, and as he moves, strands of your hair coil around his fingers. 
he’s offering his arm as a pillow.
you lie frozen, your breath hitched in your throat, as his arm extends fully beneath you. 
“spence,” you exhale, caught off-guard by the sudden move.
“it’s okay. don’t worry about me,” he softly whispers, inclining his head towards your face.
you smile, though you doubt he can see your face in the pitch-black darkness. 
“sweet dreams,” you hum, and close your eyes to let sleep overtake you.
you wake up not to the sound of your alarm, not to the birds usually perched on the tree outside your window, but to the sound of spencer clearing his throat.
you think it’s a dream at first, but you can feel everything — the vibrations coming from his throat like he’s talking to you, his hands stroking a pattern on your back, his breaths tickling your hair.
you open your eyes to see spencer staring back at you with flustered cheeks, his eyes flickering back and forth between your face and… 
you follow his gaze and look down, only to see that your leg’s wrapped casually around his hips, anchoring him to the bed. with a panicked yelp, you immediately retract your leg and leap out of the bed, frantically apologizing to him over and over again.
“i’m so sorry about that, d-did i hurt you?”
your voice sounds scratchy from your parched throat, but how you sound right now is the least of your concerns.
spencer chuckles softly before slowly sitting up. “no, you didn’t do anything.”
you let out a relieved sigh at his response.
spencer grunts as he lifts himself up, tenderly listening to your continued apologies with a warm smile.
“by the way,” he starts, fixing his tie and reaching for his suit jacket, “we're a little late.”
“what?” you gasp, hurriedly tucking your dress shirt into your trousers, “fuck. how late?”
a pause, and then: “five minutes and twenty seconds.”
“oh my god,” you squeal as you fling your and spencer’s bag over your shoulders, “they’re probably all waiting for us.”
quickly turning the doorknob and making way for spencer’s crutches to move past the door, you rush to the elevator and hit the juddering call button.
“next time, you’re-“ you cough out as you try to catch your breath, “-you’re welcome to just push me off the bed. it’s guaranteed to wake me up instantly.”
spencer looks at you questioningly, a small grin spreading across his lips. “next time?”
you clasp a hand over your mouth. “wait no, i meant – hopefully we’ll never have to sleep in a room together ever again, but i’m saying in case-“
spencer tilts his head and lets out an amused laugh. thankfully, the elevator doors open just in time, and you’re spared the trouble of having to explain yourself further.
you bite your lips as the image of his lopsided grin lingers in the back of your mind, and the fresh regret of your words burns your face like a hot fever.
the embarrassment doesn’t end, however, as the doors open once again to reveal your team standing right outside. when the elevator’s chime echoes throughout the lobby, everyone’s heads turn to you and spencer.
you walk out with nervous steps, grimacing when hotch merely nods and announces that the plane is ready for takeoff. spencer makes his way over to derek, who tousles his hair teasingly.
“so, how’d you sleep last night?”
you freeze when rossi’s husky voice drifts into your ears.
you force out a smile. “i definitely could’ve slept better.”
“really?” he hums with a smirk, “i slept like a baby.”
“yeah, you upgraded your room, we get it, you’re rich,” you sigh, eliciting a hearty chuckle from the older agent.
once seated in your usual seat on the jet, you’re accompanied by spencer and morgan, who slump into their seats across from you.
you watch suspiciously as morgan wiggles his eyebrows at you and nudges his elbow into spencer’s sides. “so, late night, huh?”
spencer looks at you briefly, flushed cheeks failing to suppress the smile splaying across his face. 
“shut up.”
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giannaln4 · 3 months
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Make You Feel Better
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lando norris x fem reader
summary: Lando wasn't feeling the best after a long day of media duties, but he could always count on you to make him feel better. (915 words)
warnings: mdni, + 18, smut, unprotected sex, needy!lando
a/n: heyy everyone! sorry for disappearing after posting literally just one fic, but with uni and then summer i didn't really find the time to write but i'm working on a few fics right now! anyway please send some requests!
↺ back to navigation— send me a request!
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Some days were better than others, and Lando always tried to be positive around you, but today just wasn’t his day. He had a long day; media day wasn’t his favourite, too many people to talk to, cameras all around at all times, and on top of that, he was feeling a little under the weather. 
It’s not like he always felt that way, it was a part of his duties and he liked to meet fans. He loved seeing the people that supported him unconditionally so happy just by seeing him. He knew he had to do it anyway, but the triple header was getting to him, and it was only the second weekend.
He dragged himself back into his hotel, dragging his feet out of the elevator and through the hallways. He wasn’t expecting to see you awake, still waiting for him, but he was almost relieved when he spotted you sitting in his bed.
“Hi” You happily greeted him when he entered the room, putting your phone down to pay attention to him.
“Hi” He replied, not as happy as you. You could easily see that he was having a bad day. 
He dropped his bag next to the door and made his way to the bed, collapsing in your arms as soon as he got there. “Bad day” was all he said and you didn’t push it any further. You let him settle in your arms, rubbing his back as you both sink into the mattress.
“It’s okay, baby. You should get some rest, I know you haven’t been sleeping as much as you are supposed to” 
He shook his head into your chest “I had something else in mind”
“Go on” You knew where this was going, and honestly you couldn’t complain.
“I was thinking, uh- you could help me feel better” His voice was a little hesitant, but his hands were confident when they found your hips, squeezing them as if he was trying to give you a hint of what he wanted.
“Yeah? How?”
“I need you, please”
You smile down at him, suddenly needy for him “Is that what you want?”
He nodded desperately, and he immediately lifted his head and reached for your chin, pulling you in for a kiss. It started rough and passionate, you could barely catch your breath. You climbed into his lap, placing your knees to his sides.
“How do you want me?” You managed to ask in between kisses.
“Ride me”
As soon as he said that you got up, taking a step back and slowly undressing in front of him. “Are you gonna keep your clothes?”
“Uh- no” He quickly got rid of them, keeping his eyes on you the entire time.
You were both naked, and you returned to your previous position on his lap. After a moment of making out, you softly pushed him into the mattress and leaned down to meet his lips again.
“Want me to help you feel better? You had a bad day so you need me to ride you?” Lando’s eyes widened and he nodded quickly, bucking his hips up.
You shook your head, pulling away “Words, Lando”
“Yes. Baby, please” He begged, his hands on your hips again.
You smirk, satisfied with his answer. He was still holding onto your hips as you began to get comfortable on top of him, he then placed his hands on your tits, massaging them softly as you started to stroke his needy cock. He let out a loud moan at your touch.
Your pussy was soaking wet, brushing up against his thigh. The contact made you moan softly and you couldn't help but put more pressure, relieving your need a little bit. You kept rubbing your core against him as he let out soft whimpers, your hand still stroking him, but the relief you were giving him wasn’t nearly enough. “Please, baby” Lando moaned as you placed your hands on his stomach.
“Please what?”
“Please fuck me”
That was all you needed to hear, so you situated yourself and slowly sank down on his cock. He moaned loudly, and your hands moved up to his chest, as you began to roll your hips. His hands moved to your hips again as his own bucked up into you, making you whimper as loud as he was.
“You always make me feel so good” He cried out.
Your mind was too focused on your own pleasure you didn’t even answer him. You continued moving, a string of moans of his name leaving your lips. He was deep, deep inside of you and he just hit that place where you both feel incredibly good. 
“Fuck” Lando said with furrowed brows, his cheeks red and forehead full of sweat. His curls were stuck to his forehead, making him incredibly sexy. “I’m gonna cum,” he said when he started to get that feeling in his lower abdomen.
You didn’t say anything but you picked up your pace, bringing Lando even closer to his orgasm. It didn’t take long for him to shoot his release inside you, making you come closer to your own release.
He moaned your name repeatedly, and you collapsed on his chest when your mindblowing orgasm finally hit you. You were barely moving your hips now, dusting off your high.
You finally stopped moving and you stayed like that for a while, catching your breath as your cheek was pressed on his chest.
“Feel better, baby?”
“Yeah”
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niya-writesshit · 3 months
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variety
art donaldson x fem!reader
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TW: smut MDNI - p in v, oral m receiving - infidelity, art is a little bit of a perv, derogatory language
word count: 2047
¡! ❞ a/n: bold = art's thoughts!
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art knew it was wrong. he knew it was wrong when his eyes tracked your body with every stretch, every jump, when his dick began to rise as he watched you play, when he caught himself thinking of you while fucking his wife.
he knew it was all so, so, so wrong.
but yet, when you came up to him, after winning his match at the tournament the two of you were playing at, asking if he coached (he didn't), he found himself blurting out a desperate and high-pitched "yes!"
you raised your eyebrows slightly at his tone, but smiled brightly nonetheless. "great!" you responded, looking up at him through your lashes. "i'm gonna try out for the olympics, sooo. i need a really good coach."
i'm not a coach. tashi's a great coach, art thought. my wife, she's a great coach.
"well, i'm a great coach!" art assured you. why did i say that? "at least, that's what, um, they tell me." who's they? shit, just shut up. he clamped his mouth shut.
"good," you nodded. "here's my number. just text me your availability." you fumbled with your purse, producing a wrinkled piece of paper with your phone number scrawled on it.
"will do," art answered, curt, dry, and professional so he wouldn't say anything too stupid like i'm super infatuated with you and i was staring at your tits the whole time you were talking and i want to bend you over and fuck your brains out every single time you make eye contact with me. or something along those lines.
you smiled again, flashing your perfect teeth before turning around on your heels and flouncing out of the court, leaving art standing there, jaw slightly agape as he watched your hips sway. he felt a tent begin to form in his pants and he cursed under his breath.
✮✮✮
"i'm so fucked." art downed another shot of vodka, slamming the glass down on the chipped wood veneer of the bar. "she's got, like, fucking pornstar tits, pat! it's so crazy."
patrick sat on the barstool next to him, cigarette dangling from his lips and fingers tapping a rhythm onto the bar. "and you're not gonna do anything about it?"
art looked at him with a look of disbelief, brows furrowed and lip captured by his front teeth. "obviously not! i have a wife."
"well, that's clearly not stopping you from thinking about her pornstar tits."
art sighed loudly, leg bouncing on the stool. "nothing wrong with having a little crush." he definitely wasn't thinking about how you'd look under him, pinned against the mattress of his fancy hotel room, eyes crossed, mouth agape, yelling his name. definitely not.
" 's long as you don't fuck her at your little private sesh," patrick sang, taking a long drag of the cigarette. art shot him a glare. "i'm not even discouraging it, bud. i think it'd be good for you."
"cheating on my wife would be good for me?"
"variety feels good," patrick said, passing him the cigarette. art took it gratefully, bringing it up to his lips and inhaling deeply. the two boys sat in silence for a few seconds, art surveying the dingy bar and patrick surveying the group of girls in the corner.
"i think i should tell her i don't coach."
"i think you should have sex with her."
✮✮✮
the day of your first private practice, art was wracked with emotion — mostly lust.
the night before, he called your number, almost creaming right then and there when your voice rang out, soft and sweet, exclaiming his name. he was perched on the bathtub of him and tashi's hotel room, afraid that simply talking to you was infidelious, and that any moment, tashi would burst in and just divorce him on the spot. but the conversation went smoothly, and the next morning, art was stumbling out to a private court, racket and a bucket of tennis balls in hand.
you were already there when he arrived at the court, dressed in a white tennis skirt and black tank, stretching your legs. you smiled when you saw art and bounced up to your feet. "you're late," you quipped.
"a little," art responded, already flustered. "sorry." he gave you a crooked smile.
you smiled back and beckoned him over to where you had been stretching. a notebook sat flipped open on the ground, and you bent over to pick it up, skirt hitching up high enough that art could see the beginnings of blue lace panties.
fuck.
"i watched over the recording of my match yesterday," you explained, handing him the notebook, which was filled with pretty handwriting and tennis diagrams. "my boyfriend and i just kind of wrote down everything we thought i needed to work on."
art didn't hear anything else you said after boyfriend. 'course she has a boyfriend. why wouldn't she? he nodded anyway, distracted by the light brush of your arm against his hand as you pointed out different things on the page. he can smell your shampoo. the scent of your perfume invades his senses, making him feel a little dizzy.
you looked up at him as you finished explaining, grin widening at the expression on his face. he was staring straight at you, eyes slightly glossy and breathing slow. you had him right where you wanted him.
"art?"
"yeah, sounds great!" art's voice was strained, and he blinked quickly to focus back in on your voice, which was now detailing how much time the two of you had to work.
two hours. that's all. c'mon, you can get through that without a boner.
✮✮✮
no he could not. the way you moved on the court, combined with your little squeals every time you hit the ball, combined with your tiny little skirt, combined with the grin you were flashing him, combined with you just being you, made his dick strain against his pants as he watched you from the bleachers, hitting balls into the wall.
"try to, um, keep your knees bent a little more." he was trying to coach, imitating the way tashi would talk to him when they were on the court. he barked commands that didn't really mean much and drew diagrams on the book that looked less like people and more like limp noodles.
you didn't really need the coaching — you were a beautiful player, fast and relentless with perfect technique. but you wanted art there, wanted to feel his gaze burning into your ass, or your tits, or the curve of your spine while you hit the tennis balls with amazing accuracy. he hadn't seemed to notice that you didn't need his help, because he continued to order you around in a tone that made your thighs clench and your panties soak.
after an hour, art joined you on the court, expression neutral but eyes still trained on your chest as you played a couple of sets. you kept making low eye contact with him, and it was driving him crazy.
fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!
your skirt flipped up as you jumped to the side for the ball, flashing him a gorgeous view of your underwear. it flew up again, and you seemingly didn't notice as you bent over to grab another ball. art noticed. he also noticed the prominent wet patch that was forming around your entrance, making his breath hitch in his throat yet again.
she's wet. for me?
you continued to play, but art was distracted, faulting again and again. "are you okay, art?" you called from across the court, noticing his troubled expression.
art nodded and replied with a pained smile, holding up a thumb.
"your serve."
✮✮✮
after your practice, you made your way back to the locker rooms. you were chattering about technique, taking great pleasure in the way art was looking at you, pupils blown and eyes low.
you split at the entrance, art making his way to the men's showers and you to the women's. "shit," you muttered, looking up at the big CLOSED FOR MAINTENANCE sign.
art was just standing under the water, letting the cold hit his skin as if to rid him of the thoughts he was having and the absolute raging desire that coursed through him. he jumped when he heard the creak of another shower knob turn behind him.
you were already undressed, and the sight of the perfect tits art had been dreaming about bare made him dizzy. you gave him a crooked little frown. "women's showers are closed. hope you don't mind."
art shook his head slowly, eyes locked on your figure. "not at all."
fuck this.
he couldn't contain himself any longer. he sprung at you, grabbing you by the hips and latching his lips onto yours as water continued to cascade over the two of you. you reciprocated the kiss sloppily, hands roaming over his toned skin as your tongues tangled.
you didn't really care, but you felt like you had to say something to protest, make up some type of excuse that made you seem like a little less of a bad person. "we really shouldn't," you panted, pulling away. "you have a wife."
"you have a boyfriend," art spat, hands still freely exploring your chest. "an' that didn't stop you from being a little slut back at the court." art's words were stinging, because this was all your fault. how was he supposed to focus on his wife when you were here, so beautiful and willing?
that was all you needed to kiss him again, nodding and swirling your tongue against his. art continued to grope at your tits, pinching and pulling at your nipples. you glanced down at his dick, which was brick-hard and glistening under the water. dropping to your knees, you tease his tip with soft, sloppy kisses, making him buck his hips against your mouth.
slowly, you took his dick down your mouth, sucking at the tip hard enough to elicit a low groan from the man. up and down up and down up and down on his dick went your mouth, your pace quickening as his hands reached down to grip onto your hair. "shit, love," he grunted, snapping his hips so he was fucking your throat, causing tears to spring into your eyes. you had never looked more beautiful in art's eyes, sopping wet, mascara smudged and hair sticking to your face in little ringlets. he continued to shove his cock down your throat despite the little gagging sounds you were making. with each thrust, his moans grew louder, his fingers tangling in your hair. finally, he pulled out of your mouth with a pop!, spurting cum all over your face and some into your open mouth.
"turn around."
you turned your body so you were flush against the wall, ass sticking up and chest pressed up against the cold tile. art surveying your folds, unable to tell if the sopping entrance was covered in just water or arousal too. either way, it served as the perfect lubricant, allowing his cock to slip right into you, making you arch your back against him. the moans slipping past your lips were practically pornographic as he rammed into you hard enough that you could feel the bulge in your belly. art grunted with each snapping movement of his hips. "fuck," he hissed lowly, the feeling of your beautiful, tight little pussy around his cock so good he heard himself whimper.
your whole body moved as he pounded into you feverishly, hands slipping against the wall as you tried to stabilize yourself. your pussy clenched around him, legs shuddering as your release rushed through your body like an avalanche of pleasure. you glanced back at him, taking in the way his eyes fluttered and his mouth shook. "does tashi feel as good as i do?"
and that was it. 8 words that threw him right over the edge, spurting into you with fervor. infidelity shouldn't turn him on this much, shouldn't feel so fucking good. but it did.
and when he stumbled back to the hotel room, pecking tashi lightly on the lips, cock still throbbing, he thought to himself — patrick was right, variety felt amazing.
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mr-inkslinger · 5 months
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Arthur gripped your hips, he suggested this position, not really suggested. He mostly had lifted you off him the second you had clenched around him, he took advantage of your orgasm to reposition you. His hand held your hips, keeping you up. He gave the curve of you ass an affectionate pat. "You're alright.." His voice was soft, the roughness of it soothing your nerves as your thighs trembled. "Arthur.. please." You weren't even sure if you wanted a break or more, the please seemed to go either way. "You okay?" He mumbled, that rough hand that was always gentle with you smoothed up your spine to the nape of your neck as he leaned over to kiss your shoulder. You panted as you nodded, soft hairs stuck to your forehead. "Want more?" It took you a second to process what he was asking and before you even processed what you were doing, there was a faint nod. He smiled against your skin, "Atta girl.." Arthur had never ending praise for you. For even the simplest of things. A good job for eating dinner or waking up in the morning. Any act of living earned praised, you were his world. His girl. His everything. During these tumultuous times, he found solace in the tiny hotel room he was able to steal you away in. He was able to pretend it was all different. Maybe you two had a home or at least the gang wasn't falling apart.. he snapped out of it as he leaned back, bringing your hips up again.
He eased into you, a breathless gasp followed by a higher pitch moan left your throat. He kept your back arched with one big hand pressed between your shoulders as his other gripped your hip. His blunt nails biting at your skin, leaving little crescents. He wasn't being particularly gentle but nonetheless paused to catch his breath. Your velvet walls were clenching around him, almost painfully tight and too hot. He let out a throaty groan, it came from up in his chest. Almost a breathless noise. Arthur threw his head back, his fingers drumming on your back lightly. He huffed, pulling his hips back, he could feel how you suctioned around him, so he didn't pull out completely. He didn't was to lose that. He snapped his hips, grinning at your breath hitching, nice and loud. You had abused your pussy riding him, until she was puffy and soaked. He offered occasional help, but he mostly thrusted upwards to surprise you when he felt you getting close. He liked watching you do all the work, so it was time to return the favor. Each time he pulled out and rolled his hips forward, they got faster and stronger. He leaned over you, slowly pressing his chest to your back. It was strong and warm, damp with sweat and his hair soft. His hand flew to the headboard, caging you between one arm next to your head and his firm bicep. Built like a piece of sinewy lumber, strong and unmoving, he had you trapped. The noises coming from your dripping cunt were filthy. How could you be soaked for him? A tough, gritty man. A killer. An outlaw. A bad, bad, bad-
"Arthur..!" The way you squeaked his name caught his attention, he could feel your walls around him, shit, your poor pussy never caught a break. He could feel you clenching and writhing and your nails dug into his thick wrist. But he didn't let up, even when you were pushed forward by the sheer force of his thrusts. "Don't- run from me." He gritted out, teeth clenched, his head pressed to the back of yours. His arm shifted, his forearm pressed to the front of your shoulder, keeping you from jolting forward. You were ruining the sheets, his thighs were sticky and slick with you, his dick coated in your cream, his hairs frothy. He wasn't even attempting to quiet himself now. "God.. damn it." Your legs gave out without his hand holding you up, you pressed flat on your stomach, feeling the sheets sticking to your wet skin, beads of sweat sliding down the column of your neck.
"Look'atchu.. You're a good girl.." His praises deep and guttural, he pressed you further into the mattress. Your moans had progressed into soft screams, your face half hidden in your pillow, hair messed. His hand that wasn't white knuckling the headboard slid between the mattress and you, finding your clit. Poor thing was twitching at just the slightest touch from him. "There ya go.. Takin' me and lookin' so pretty.." His lips pressed to the crown of your skull, your hair tickling his nose. With just a few soft circle from his finger, he ripped another orgasm out of you, you soaked his cock while he pounded you into the mattress. You were a sobbing mess, choking on your words. A mix of please, Arthur, I can't do it and don't stop, harder, deeper. He liked fucking the brains right out if your pretty head. Feeling your cunt drenched him and constrict around him so perfectly, like your pussy was made to take his thick cock and keeping it nice and tight and warm, seated so deep within you, made his stomach taught. His own legs trembled at the way his release hit him like a damn freight train.
"Fuck-" he had no words, nothing to describe how it felt, rutting his seed deeper in you with his dick twitching. He collapsed, mind empty, body numb, nearly crushing you and keeping the wind knocked from your lungs. Your hand patted his head. "Good job.. I can't breathe." Arthur's laugh was soft, his eyes closed. "Sorry, sweetheart."
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sturnslcver · 7 months
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FIRST TIME WITH CHRIS
ੈ✩‧₊˚ HOTEL ORDEAL ˚.°: ₊˚ ୨
— chris sturniolo x fem reader —
— fluff, smut, cock warming, orgasms, face riding, side sex, sex warnings!
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you sighed impatiently awaiting chris’ arrival. you’d barely seen him all day, as he’d been out for content purposes and business meetings. you lay stiff under the covers, shivering, entwined into a ball in attempt to warm yourself up. you were nearly asleep when you heard chris wriggling the door handle. your back remained to him. he shut the door gently and slowly, deeming you might be asleep. he leaned down, peeking over your shoulder. “hey” he whispered before placing a delicate kiss on your temple. “hi.” you turned your head just a bit, connecting both of your lips. he immediately set down his things and dropped down behind you, his chest pressed against your back. his knuckles came up, delicately moving up and down your arm. his face lowered into the crook of your neck. you felt his warm, balanced breaths tickling your skin.
“you tired?” he mumbled. “just cold.” you reshuffled yourself to rest comfortably, brushing against his groin. he emit a soft groan into your neck, resting his hand on your hip. “sorry.” all he did was smile. you turned to face chris, resting your head in your hand. “i really missed you today.” you tilted toward him placing a soft kiss to the corner of his lips. he slanted toward you just as you were backing away, dragging out the kiss. you smiled into the kiss before he began to back away. “what’d you do today?” he questioned sweetly before reaching down to nibble your shoulder, working his way up to behind your ear. you swiftly sucked a breath in, feeling an intense warmth develop between your legs. you squeezed them tight before replying. “bed rot?” “okay..” he chuckled. “chris?” you urged. “mhm?” his mouth still active to your ear. “i wanna try..” “try what?” you fell silent for just a moment, hesitant to get your request through to him. “you know..” his head shot up, examining you carefully. “you’re sure?” you nodded, chris taking in a big breath before scanning up and down your body.
he continued to pepper you with kisses all across your face, and down your neck. his hands wrapping around your waist, slightly pushing up your shirt. his fingertips trickled up to your back, you arching into his touch. he unclipped your bra with ease, glancing up at you, practically pleading for permission to slip off your top and bra. you obliged. he delicately discarded the clothing to the floor before lowering, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your pants, leaving sloppy kisses all across your abdomen. you gently lifted as he stripped you of your shorts. he traced figures into your skin, goosebumps forming. his face fell forward, placing light kisses and hot breaths to your clothed clit, before nibbling at the waistband of your underwear, slowly revealing your glistening vulva. his hands slid to wrap around your thighs, his tongue gliding along your calves all the way down to your ankles, slowly lifting them to rest up against his shoulder. “you ready?” he uttered breathily. “mhm” you nodded, your eyes travelling from the ceiling to chris.
almost immediately, you began to squirm to the feeling of chris’ lips latching on to your clit, sucking insistently. you immediately wriggled into his touch, letting out consistent whimpers as he held you down by your thighs, digging his nails into your skin. you swiftly glanced around the room looking for anything to grip onto as the knot in your stomach increased. just as you’d gotten ahold of the edge of the mattress, you felt your hole swallow chris’ tongue as he shoved and swirled into you. right as the knot in your stomach was about to snap, chris’ head lifted from between your legs. “chris” you spoke in a needy groan . “dont let go yet” chris shook his head. he kept his hands to your thighs, delicately flipping you over to face your insides.
you shivered at the sensation of his sharp breaths and soft groans to your lower half. “sit” he uttered, lining his nose up to your clit. “are you sure?” chris smirked, his eyes found your face as he left bites all along the inside of your thighs. “i’m positive..” growing impatient to your leisurely lowering, he pulled you down onto his face himself. you trembled at the friction between your clit and chris’ nose, frozen in fear at the thought of suffocating chris. between chris’ nose, tongue, and repeated squeezing to your thighs, you rapidly began to chase your orgasm, violently rocking back and forth against his nose. you peered down to see chris already staring at you, his face drowning in your juices, his tongue still swirling in and out consuming all he could as you let go all over his face, your hand grasping the headboard as your head flew back, setting free a series of wails. chris released his grip gently nudging you off of him, finally sucking in the air.
you were now sitting upright beside chris’ shoulders, him facing you, his back still glued to the bed. he gaped down taking notice to your quivering legs, raising a hand, smoothly rubbing his thumb across your knee. you lightly squeezed chris’ hand inspecting him alluringly. “still not done?” he raised a brow astounded. chuckling, he reached an arm out, scooping you up into him. you now lay with the back of your head to his chest. his fingers faintly motioned through your hair as the both of you tuned in to one another’s breaths slowing.
you gnawed at chris’ bicep imploring that you wanted more. still regaining composure, chris flipped your back to him, tapping on your hip, motioning you to arch. you did, along with unfurling your legs. he rimmed himself to your entrance, letting a soft whimper leave his lips, his jaw falling slack into your cheek. you seized chris’ other hand, which was resting underneath you as he slowly passed unremittingly through you. you whinced, adjusting to his size. his freehand took ahold of your side as his he felt his climax emerging. he sped up a bit, your head slightly turning to discover his clenched abdomen. beads of sweat dripped down his forehead and his brows furrowed as he fell balls deep into you, both of your juices combining, as you came in conjunction.
chris remained motionless inside of you, moving the hand from your waist up to your cheek. he lightly brushed the sweaty hair sticking to your face away. “you were amazing for me” he breathed into the nape of your neck. you clutched the hand of his you were holding, resting your cheek to it. “really?” “really.” he confirmed. his fingers traced from your cheek all the way down to your outer thigh, as your eyelids began growing heavy. chris rest his head on yours as you let out a yawn. “goodnight. i love you” he beamed. “love you” you uttered moments before falling fast asleep, chris still immersed inside of you, your fingers remained connected with one another’s.
this was a very rushed and sloppy fic and i am sorry for that. it’s been extremely difficult for me to sit, focus, and write. i have lots going on at home rn. i hope this was still an enjoyable read for you :) love you guys!
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twola · 6 months
Note
Arthur definitely grips the headboard
Softness
Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI
➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link
Somehow you always had known he could be like this. One doesn’t get the reputation that he does by handing out flowers and being gentle.
Deep down, you had also known that this side of him simmered beneath the surface. Though he has been nothing but a gentleman to you through this courtship, or whatever you’d call it, you knew there would be a moment when he snaps, taut like a rope.
The pillow mercifully muffles your hoarse voice, strung out and breathless as you are completely under his control, pressed down into the mattress as if you were to melt into it.
Thoroughly used and fucked out, your moans and cries have become guttural as you smother them by shoving your face into the pillow, having lost your fight with gravity long ago.
Although you can do nothing more than accept, he on the other hand is still full of energy he is taking out on you. Your arms have gone useless, unable to hold you up for some time now. Having fallen forward into the pillow, your back is arched and hips held up by one of his large hands.
“Tha’s it,” he grunts above you, throwing his hips into yours, mercilessly pumping his cock into your cunt. You groan again into the pillow as he slams into you hard.
“Take it, fuck - take it,” he hisses as he leans further over you, one of his hands leaving your hips and clutching at the headboard of the bed. It’s been banging against the wall for the last several minutes, surely alerting the other guests of the hotel what you were up to.
You mewl piteously. You won’t be able to ride a horse for a week at this point. Your cunt is sopping wet as he pounds into you, bruises from his fingers already blooming across your skin. You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve come; from the second he shut the door behind you in this hotel room, he’s been on you like a man possessed.
Maybe he’s riding the high of the score. Maybe it’s taking frustration out.
“Ngh, Arth- agh - Arthur-”
Hearing his name muffled into the pillow seems to drive him wild, clenching your hips with one hand and pressing you down, down into the mattress as his cock hits spots so deep inside you you swear you’re going to pass out.
“Fuck, you’re such a good girl-” he pants as his breakneck pace begins to falter, leaning heavily on the headboard, his knuckles white from gripping it.
“Gonna fill you up, g-gonna-”
His babbling devolves into a low moan as he slams his hips down into yours one final time. He remains still for a moment, breathing heavily as he finds his release deep into your waiting cunt.
Arthur groans as he pulls out, his cock near dripping with his spend and your slick. He flops down next to you in the bed as you slowly roll onto your side.
He breathes out through his nose, and chuckles softly as he turns his head toward you, “Well that was different there, darl-”
“Shit, shit -” his satisfied grin drops as he sees your tear- streaked face, “Oh, oh honey - I didn’t - shit.”
He draws you into his embrace, cupping your cheek as his brow furrows, you can see in his eyes the guilt overtaking him.
“ M’okay-”
“Jesus, what a bastard I am-”
“Arthur-” You press your hand against his sweat-dotted sternum, “I’m fine. Seriously. Maybe just gonna a bit sore riding.”
He clenches his jaw, obviously not thrilled with your answer.
“Christ, I’m sorry. Last thing I ever want to do is hurt-”
You cut him off by surging forward and pressing your lips to his, pressing your tongue inside, throwing your leg over his hip to plaster yourself against him.
He’s breathless by the time you pull away, one arm tight around your waist.
You smile, reaching up and brushing a lock of his hair from his forehead.
“Just warn a girl next time, Mister Morgan.”
His cheeks blaze red for a moment before you lean in and kiss him again.
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rynwritesreid · 5 months
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Feel so close| Spencer Reid
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A/N: if anyone has any good ideas for angst or fluff, or wants to send some requests through. Please do. I obviously love all of your smut requests (i truly do) but I would also love some angst and fluff ones (heavy on the angst ones).
Summary: It’s yours and Spencer’s wedding night and you want to give him what he has always wanted.
Content: Fem!reader. Fluff. Smut. 18+ MDNI. Oral (r!receiving). Creampie. P in V. Slight dom/sub undertones. Breeding kink. Very fluff filled sex I won’t lie. Porn with a plot.
Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation
Spencer was so close to living his dream life, and he could not be any happier. He had just seen his dream girl walk down the aisle to become Mrs Reid. And while he couldn’t be any happier, there was one thing, or really rather a few things, missing that would make his life perfect. 
As he watched the last of the guests fade away, he couldn’t wait to take you to your shared hotel room. He couldn’t stop staring at you, knowing that tonight was the beginning of your forever together. 
As you both entered the elegant suite, Spencer couldn’t get enough of how you looked in your wedding dress, but he also couldn’t wait to get it off you.
 His hands trembled with anticipation as he reached out to caress the delicate lace adorning your shoulder. The room was aglow with the soft light of a dozen candles, casting flickering shadows across your face. 
He leaned in to press a tender kiss against your lips, savouring the sweetness of the moment. “I love you Mrs Reid.” Spencer whispered, his voice filled with love and adoration. You smiled back at him, feeling a rush of warmth and happiness in your chest.
“I love you more, Dr Reid.” You whispered back, your voice barely above a breath.
His heart swelled with joy at your words, feeling like the luckiest man alive. He gently lifted you into his arms, carrying you towards the luxurious four-poster bed adorned with rose petals. 
“You know there is only one thing right now that could make me even happier.” Spencer grinned mischievously as he lowered you onto the soft mattress, the petals fluttering around you like a fragrant snowfall. His eyes sparkled with desire as he leaned into whisper in your ear.
"What's that?" you asked, your voice laced with anticipation, your heart pounding with excitement at the prospect of what was to come.
“If you were to become pregnant with my child.” Spencer gently confessed; his voice filled with hope. 
“I’m sure we can make that happen, Spencer.” You whispered back, a playful glint in your eyes. “I know you have always wanted to be a dad.”
Spencer's face lit up with pure happiness at your words, his heart overflowing with love for you. Without wasting another moment, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss, letting all his emotions pour into the moment.
Spencer carefully started to undress you, his movements slow and reverent as if unwrapping a precious gift. The air was thick with desire and anticipation as he leaned in to kiss every inch of your exposed skin, worshipping you like a devoted lover.
“You are officially my pretty girl now.” Spencer murmured against your skin; his hand was placed on your stomach “I can’t wait to see carrying my child.” 
With a loving smile, you traced your fingers along his jawline, savouring the moment. “And I can’t wait to start a family with you, Spencer,” you whispered, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world to have him by your side.
Once your dress had come completely off, Spencer couldn’t take his eyes of your white lingerie that hugged your curves in all the right places. Desire burned in his eyes as he slowly removed his own clothes, every movement deliberate and filled with longing.
In that moment, nothing else existed for Spencer except for you, the woman who held his heart in her hands. As he kissed you with a hunger that spoke of all the love and passion he felt.
Spencer slowly started kissing his way down your body, leaving no part of you neglected. His mouth was tender and passionate as he explored every inch, savouring each taste and touch. You laid there, feeling like the most desired woman in the world, your body responding to his every move.
His hands traced delicate patterns over your skin, sending ripples of desire through you. His lips then lingered at the base of your neck, and you could feel the heat from his breath. It was a gentle yet powerful affirmation of his deep love for you.
Your breathing became shallow and quick as Spencer continued his exploration, and you found yourself arching your back, inviting him closer. He seemed to sense your need and desire, and his own lustrous eyes betrayed the intensity of his own cravings.
When his lips finally reached the most intimate part of your body, a soft gasp escaped your lips. His touch was gentle yet so powerful in its ability to awaken you, and you knew that no one else could make you feel this way.
As his lips continued to lavish attention upon you, your entire body seemed to come alive with electricity, every nerve ending firing in response to his tender caresses.
You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, and whispered, "Spencer, I need you inside me more than ever. I want to feel you, I want to feel you complete me." Your voice trembled with desire as you spoke.
Spencer looked into your eyes, his love for you a fiery catalyst. He positioned himself over you, the anticipation making his heart race with excitement. With a deep breath, he slowly entered you, the feeling of the warmth and tightness of your body around him, unparalleled.
He slowly began to move, his rhythm in perfect harmony with the pulse of your body, matching the rhythm of your breath as his love for you grew with every stroke.
Spencer once again placed his hand on your lower stomach, he knew realistically he couldn’t feel himself, but he cherished every moment, every sensation, every feeling of being deep within you. He kissed you gently, passionately, and whispered soft encouragement, "It won't be long before I can feel you carrying my child."
Your breaths became more ragged, you wanted nothing more than to make Spencer a dad, to let everyone know you belonged to him.  And so, you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper inside you, increasing the intensity of the moment.
Spencer's eyes locked with yours, the love and desire in them impossible to resist. He moved faster, his pace becoming more urgent, as he sought to fulfil your shared dream. Your bodies moved in perfect sync.
Every muscle in your body tightened in response to his touch, as your climax drew closer with each thrust, a primal urge to merge with him and create new life together overwhelmed you.
Spencer wasn’t far from his own release. His heart was pounding in his chest, and a sense of awe and gratitude washed over him as he felt himself getting closer.
With one final thrust, Spencer cried out your name, his pleasure mingling with the tenderness of the moment. His heart overflowed with love and gratitude. 
He collapsed onto you, his breath ragged and his heart pounding in your ears. You held onto him, feeling the pulse of his heart against the warmth of your skin, and a bond stronger than any connection you'd ever known.
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cordeliawhohung · 2 months
Text
soap x f!reader | drabble
cw: smut, dub-con voyeurism, religious talk and standards, virginity taking/hymen breaking, breeding kink, just a lot of fucking filth, unrealistic sex, this was just an idea i need to get out of my brain so i can work on something else lmao
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You always knew Johnny was a traditional and devout Catholic, but you didn't think he'd consummate your marriage with an audience; let alone in front of the members of his task force.
"It's okay," he coos softly. Soft sheets sprawl underneath your bare body as your wide eyes catch sight of the three men entering the hotel suite. Shaky hands grab Johnny's arms as you attempt to bury yourself in his exposed skin to save yourself any sort of embarrassment. You recognize them instantly as attendants of your wedding — they're even still wearing their suits — but that doesn't ease your anxiety any further. "They're just 'ere tae watch. Ah work with them. Trust them with mah life. Won't speak a word."
There are only so many chairs in the room for them to take. John, who you remember being introduced to earlier that night as Johnny's captain, drags one of the office chairs to the foot of the bed. He sits with a polite smile, as if you're meeting for Sunday brunch. Kyle does the same, both of them sitting, legs spread far, knees nearly knocking together. The lieutenant, Simon, doesn't make himself nearly as comfortable. He stands behind them, arms crossed over a broad chest as his eyes wander your body, taking in the sight of your soft skin and neatly done bridal makeup. Your skin perks, prompting you to cover yourself with your arms as a chill racks your body.
"To watch?" you repeat, teeth sinking into your lower lip. "I don't... I don't know, Johnny."
"We have tae," he presses, fingers ghosting over your cheek and turning your attention to him. The mazarine hue of his eyes bores into you as he leans up, hand wandering over your torso until he rests on your stomach. "Everyone has tae know this bairn A'm gonna give ye is mine."
"But, I've never-" you begin to protest.
"I know ye haven't," he shushes. "This is how it's always been done. Tradition, aye? Please, mah love."
You love Johnny. You wouldn't have married him if you didn't. But this strong ambivalence is torturous. It tingles up your spine in line with the watchful eyes at the foot of your bed. But you love Johnny, and if this is what he wants, then you'll give it to him.
"Okay," you eventually concede.
He grins. "Ah love ye."
When his lips meet yours, you feel the warm beads of his rosary rest on your chest. He had you pray with him before this. Kneeling next to the bed, elbows resting on the mattress, thanking the Lord for your union and the child you'll eventually bring to this world. Despite tradition, consummating your marriage this way feels blasphemous, put on display for his teammates to see like a whore rather than a wife.
Johnny's hand begins to wander between your legs, rubbing over your clit in a way that leaves your hips bucking into his touch. You rarely touch yourself like this, too afraid to revel in sin, but his touch is searing. Unfamiliar and burning. He chuckles, warm and low, as his fingers begin to prod further, relentless ardor exuding from his body. When he presses into your cunt and meets resistance, he pauses, eyebrows furrowing as he leans back.
"Spread yer legs for me, lovely," he prompts.
Body stuck on auto pilot, you listen before your brain has time to process his request. Knees bent, your thighs separate as the heels of your feet dig into the soft mattress, and Johnny wastes no time spreading the lips of your pussy for the boys to see.
"Christ," John groans. "She's still intact."
You make the mistake of looking past Johnny, and you see the way the boys paw at themselves. Chubbed cocks straining against the pristine fabric of their dress pants, palms rubbing at themselves for any fraction of relief.
"Look at ye, so lovely," Johnny sighs. He settles between your legs, body blocking the view of your bare, unfucked cunt. He tugs at his aching cock, and this is the first time you've allowed yourself to push past your bashfulness and look at it. Delicate reddened skin, a thick base and heavy veins — he's going to tear you apart. "Gonna let me have ye? Tell me yer mine."
You swallow the discomfiture stuck in your throat. "I'm yours, Johnny."
There's no more time to waste — he presses into you, leaky tip butting against the thin membrane of your hymen. Pressure builds as he pushes, and your eyes screw tight at the sting as thin skin stretches and accommodates his length.
"Go on, love," Kyle prompts. "Don't hold back now."
You whimper, but you don't know if it's from the teasing or from Johnny finally bottoming out. Wide eyes stare down between your legs where the two of you are joined, and you see the slight tinge of blood that covers the base of his cock. You groan as your head hits the pillow, never having felt so full in your entire life.
"Fuckin' hell. Hardly gave 'er any time to adjust, you dog," Simon teases through a grunt.
Johnny's hips slowly move back, leaving you empty for only a split moment before he pushes forward again, hips hitting yours with a lewd slap. You gasp, air being sucked free from your lungs as he grinds deep inside of you, in a place where no one else has been.
"Cannae help maself," he breathes, face burrowing into the side of your neck. Instinctively, your arms wrap around his neck, holding him close as you drown your moans into his skin. "Have'ta give mah wife the best. Cannae settle for any less. Need'ta give her a sweet bairn, just like Ah promised."
Your mind goes blank as more moaning and grunts join in harmony with yours and Johnny's. Belts become undone with quiet clinks followed quickly by sticky skin on skin contact as the boys rut into their own palms. There's no time to feel bashful about their transgressions in your presence. Pure hedonia captures your mind, numbing anything else as Johnny's thumb presses against your clit. You tighten around him, and he growls against your throat.
Something overwhelms him. Makes him insatiable as his cock pistons into you at a relentless pace. When you finally get your eyes to open through it all, a halo of light illuminates behind him as if he were an angel. Soft, defused, and gentle as the rosary around his neck swings with his movements. You feel something build inside of you, a needy pressure that expands in the heat of your stomach, where it grows, and grows, and grows until-
"J-Johnny, f... fuck!"
It's a sin to enjoy sex. You've known as much since you were young. But this is the closest to heaven you've ever felt. Not even praising God in the pews of your grandiose church has ever brought you this much bliss. The curse falls from your lips as that pressure snaps, body convulsing, pussy clenching around Johnny as if to draw him in, beckoning, demanding he give what he's promised.
And he does. Stuttering hips seize as his cock pulses inside of you, and you swear you feel every single throb as his body pins yours to the bed, warm sweat staining the sheets. He sows his seed, and you feel tears prick the corner of your eyes at the utter ardor you harbor for him in your heart.
When Johnny pulls out, he keeps your legs spread wide to show the boys, each of whom have made messes of themselves. Wasted cum coats their fingers where they quickly clean themselves up on handkerchiefs, eyes still glued to your leaking cunt. Simon mutters something about you dripping, that he shouldn't let his work go to waste, and Johnny agrees by gathering his spend on his fingers and shoving it back inside of you. They chuckle at the way you jolt.
Just as promised, the boys leave once everything is clean, each of them muttering congratulations as the hotel room door shuts behind them. But he can't stop himself there. He lies with you as you both catch your breaths, but it's only minutes before he's shoving his cock into you once more. You whimper, tell him that you shouldn't have sex more than necessary, that it's a terrible sin you'll both have to repent for, but he coos and tells you not to worry. He just wants to make sure his seed takes. That he gives you what he swore he would.
"Besides," he whispers, lips brushing against your ear just as his cock hits your cervix, "don't have'tae hold back anymore with the boys gone. Can have mah lovely wife all to maself now."
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driverlando · 3 months
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🏎️ so in honour of oscar getting bumped down to p7, maybe some angry sex to release pent up frustration???? but it’s not how we expect it at all cause he would be messy asf
I’m so glad he got 2nd today 🥹
The aftermath of the race hung heavy in the air, a palpable tension radiating from Oscar as he stormed into the hotel room. The unexpected demotion to P7 had clearly taken its toll, his normally calm demeanor replaced by a simmering frustration that was evident in every line of his body.
You watched from the bed as he paced the room, his hands clenching and unclenching as he tried to work through his anger. The sight of him so worked up was both concerning and oddly electrifying, a potent mix of emotions that made your heart race.
“Oscar,” you called softly, hoping to break through the storm of emotions swirling around him.
He paused, his gaze snapping to you, eyes dark with a mix of frustration and desire. “I just… I needed that win,” he muttered, his voice tight with suppressed emotion. “I needed it, and it was taken from me.”
You understood his pain, the weight of the expectations and the pressure he put on himself. You wanted to comfort him, to help him release the pent-up frustration in a way that would bring you both closer. Rising from the bed, you crossed the room to stand before him, your hands reaching out to gently touch his chest.
“It’s okay to be angry,” you murmured, your touch soothing as you moved closer. “But let’s channel that anger into something else, something that will make you feel better.”
Oscar’s eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and understanding, his body slowly relaxing under your touch. He nodded, his hands coming up to rest on your hips, pulling you closer. The heat between you was immediate, the air charged with a different kind of tension now.
He leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both desperate and hungry. The frustration melted into desire, his hands roaming your body with a need that was almost palpable. You responded eagerly, your own need rising to meet his, the intensity of the moment consuming you both.
Oscar’s touch was messy, his usual careful control slipping away as he let his emotions guide him. His hands were everywhere, sliding under your shirt, pulling you closer, needing to feel every inch of you against him. The kiss deepened, tongues tangling in a dance of passion and urgency.
He broke the kiss, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “I need you, now.”
The raw need in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, your own desire flaring in response. “Then take me,” you whispered back, your voice breathless with anticipation.
Oscar didn’t need any further encouragement. He moved quickly, his hands deftly removing your clothes, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of you. He shed his own clothes just as quickly, his movements a mix of urgency and desperation.
When he finally pushed you down onto the bed, his body covering yours, the heat between you was almost unbearable. He kissed you again, his hands tangling in your hair, his body pressing you into the mattress. The intensity of his need was overwhelming, his movements driven by the frustration and anger that had been building all day.
He entered you with a single thrust, the suddenness of it making you gasp. The sensation was immediate and intense, your body arching up to meet his. Oscar’s hands gripped your hips, his movements rough and uncoordinated as he sought to lose himself in you.
The room was filled with the sounds of your shared passion, the slap of skin against skin, the ragged breaths and soft moans that escaped your lips. Oscar’s control was gone, his usual careful rhythm replaced by a desperate need to find release.
You clung to him, your nails digging into his back as you rode the waves of pleasure and pain. The intensity of it all was almost too much, your body trembling with the force of it. But you didn’t want him to stop, didn’t want the connection to break.
Oscar’s hands moved to your thighs, lifting them to wrap around his waist, changing the angle and driving him deeper. The new position sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your breath hitching as you clung to him even tighter.
He was relentless, his thrusts hard and fast, his grip on your hips almost bruising. But it was exactly what you needed, the roughness and intensity matching the chaotic storm of emotions inside you. The pleasure built steadily, a tight coil of desire winding tighter and tighter with each movement.
“Oscar,” you gasped, your voice a mix of pleasure and desperation. “I can’t… it’s too much…”
“You can take it,” he growled, his voice rough with need. “I need you to take it.”
His words sent a thrill through you, his dominance a potent aphrodisiac. You surrendered completely, letting him drive you to the edge and beyond. The pleasure built to a fever pitch, your body trembling with the effort to hold on.
When your orgasm finally hit, it was like a tidal wave, crashing over you with a force that left you breathless and shaking. Oscar didn’t let up, his movements relentless as he chased his own release. The overstimulation was almost too much, your body convulsing with the intensity of it.
With a final, desperate thrust, Oscar found his release, his body shuddering against yours. He collapsed onto you, his breath hot against your neck as you both rode out the aftershocks of pleasure. The room was filled with the sound of your ragged breaths, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat.
As the intensity faded, a soft silence settled over you. Oscar lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t mean to be so rough.”
You shook your head, a soft smile playing on your lips. “It’s okay,” you whispered, your hand coming up to caress his cheek. “I needed it too.”
He returned your smile, his eyes softening as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice filled with gratitude. “For understanding, for being here.”
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